I don't really have much of a reason for not updating...

I know this is really short but I'm planning for the next one to be a lot longer. And I promise to do my best and not take 4 months to update again.


The equations in front of Peter didn't make much sense to his sleep-deprived brain. Peter knew he should be able to answer the question with ease. It was simple seventh-grade algebra. He just had to rearrange the equation. It wasn't too difficult. Yet, the numbers made little sense, and the letters were foreign. He would carry a number from one side of the equation to the other and somehow end up with another term.

Happy had said Peter should stop and get rest.

Peter had disagreed.

For the time being, Peter sat at an oversized desk. The oak cost more than his apartment and was so large he would never use it all. Peter appreciated its beauty, though. As he ran his hand along the legs, he could feel creases and bumps unnoticeable to the naked eye—the telltale sign of handmade furniture.

Peter didn't understand why there was still beauty when the world around him was falling apart.

Cursing himself, Peter returned to the equations. He wasn't to think about that. The Avengers were sorting the problem out. It would all be over soon enough. Everything would be back to normal.

But what if it isn't?

What if the Avengers couldn't bring everyone back? What if his family and friends never returned? What would he do? May, Ned, and MJ were all he had. He wouldn't be able to live without them.

The snap of his pen and ink flooding over his hand woke Peter from his thoughts. He cursed under his breath, moving to stop the blue ink from spilling onto the desk. Tears began forming in Peter's peripheral as he made his way to the bathroom. They trailed down his cheeks as he attempted to wash the blue from his hand.

What was he going to do? Peter had known there was danger before everyone had disappeared. His Spidersense gave him a warning that no one else had, and he had done nothing. Yet, he stood unmoving as Ned disappeared; he didn't rush to help the passengers of crashed cars after he escaped school grounds and didn't speak to the Avengers when he had the chance to. All along Peter had done nothing.

Look, when you can do the things I can do, but you don't… and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.

Even though he couldn't have done anything to stop people from disappearing, Peter could have at least tried. But he hadn't. And now his family were dead.

With the tap still running, and his hands stained blue, Peter leant against the white bathroom wall and sunk to the ground. Tears flowed down his cheeks as silent sobs wracked his body.