*shaky breath* Okay guys, hello, this is a brand new story of mine.

I'm kind of a new writer here, but I'm not really nervous because of that, rather than the fact I'm kind of nervous because I almost cried while editing this.

Sounds nerdy, right?

Oh, well. Considering how I don't really cry over anything at all, I'd say it's an accomplishment!

*happy sing-song voice* Anyway though, this little one-shot of mine takes place in Infinity War, based on the leaked trailer with that little Spidey scene. So, if you haven't seen that, do not read this.

Now, this originally wasn't supposed to have character death, but my editor decided it'd be fun to make me cry tears and, so, added it in. Thanks, Gummy(bear1178). Don't worry, I'm not offended or anything though. XD. I just cried happy tears because of how beautiful the editing was and because of depressing the ending was. :)

So, yeah, editing credits goes to Gummy. She added in the entire vision thing with Wanda—which I had no clue about—so the amazing editing goes to her. I had no clue about anything that happened in any other superhero films until tonight, so creds go to her. :)

This, of course, is also dedicated to KatTheGracefulKlutz. It's meant to be a surprise, but she probably won't see it until she gets back from camp (five days! Squee!), so I figure it's okay, right? :) The perks of not going to a non-electronic camp while your best buddy is. XD.

Since this is my first Avengers/Spider-Man fic though, please, no negative comments. Just constructive criticism and that'll be enough.

Anyway though, enjoy!

He saw it happen, before Spider Man himself even did.

The intelligent billionaire fell, pushed to the ground, and, almost immediately, the smell of burning flesh filled the air. And to put it lightly? Well, it was sickening.

But what was even more sickening was the sight of the fifteen year old teenager, who had just saved his life, lying on the ground before him.

And whether he was dead or unconscious, Tony didn't know, but he supposed it didn't matter. His question was about to be answered.

"Peter!" He screamed and in response, the teenage superhero's shrieks returned and filled the air. Tony seemed to be the only one fazed by it though, as the rest of the Avengers and Guardians were too busy to notice. Instead, they kept fighting off the alien goons Thanos challenged against them, taking no notice to the youngest of the heroes lying on the ground, screaming in pain.

As he dropped himself beside the injured superhero, the younger of the two's screams died down and he groaned, but that didn't help Tony's worry. Instead, it only increased as he took a look at the wound the teenager took for him.

"Damn…" He muttered. Damn, this was bad. He didn't get a clear look at the laceration, but he knew it was bad from the way the kid clutched his side and from the way the blood coated and covered his skin, suit, and hands.

He knew it was bad, but he also knew the kid was dying. He knew he was fading and he knew he was fading fast.

Somehow though, he didn't want to believe that. He didn't want to believe that the most innocent of the heroes that had ever existed that Peter Parker, Spider-Man, of all of those heroes, was the one that this was happening too. And it was all his fault.

If only he hadn't brought him along...

"Peter!" He called again and upon hearing his name, the teenager's eyes opened before he snapped them closed. Everything was spinning and his head was pounding. Not only that, but if he couldn't pinpoint what was happening to or around him, then he was pretty sure he couldn't pinpoint where he was or who was with him.

"Peter!" The teenager heard and, in response, fluttered his eyes open slightly, almost as if forcing himself to stay awake. He couldn't fall asleep, he thought to himself. Not now. Not if there was a chance he'd never wake up.

"Peter!" He heard again and, again, the boy winced at how hard the noise hit his ears. "Peter, you stay awake, you hear me? You stay awake!" Why—Why was there so much yelling?

"Peter!" He continued hearing and as his curiosity got the better of him, the boy lifted his head ever so slightly. But, it was only to see who's scared screeches filled his ears. Scattered shards of glass sprinkled in his hair stirred as this happened and, for a minute, the teen thought he'd gotten some in his eyes, before his vision cleared a bit and he could make out the face of whoever was hovering above.

"T-Tony?" The teenager coughed, nearly choking on the taste of his own blood in his mouth. "Wha—Wha' h'ppened?" His eyes darted over to his mentor and, a second later, the boy groaned, unable to control or hold back the pain his injury was currently giving him.

It was like a knife was being sliced through his skin.

Gosh, it hurt…

Why did it hurt so much?!

Almost as if reading the boy's spiralling mind, Tony chose that moment to speak. "You're hurt, Peter," He replied and the vague definition of these words seemed to put the teen at ease. "Y-You're hurt and you saved my life, and you might feel like you're gonna die, but you won't, okay? You're gonna be fine and you're gonna stay alive because you saved my life, so I'm gonna save yours, okay? I'm gonna save your life." He stated the last part of his statement with a forceful of determination, but he wasn't saying those things to Peter anymore as much as he was to saying them to himself. He had to save this kid. He had to, and not just because he saved him from that one shot. No, Peter had saved him many, many more times before that. Whether he knew it or not, he did. He saved him emotionally, physically and in every way possible.

There was no way he could let him go now.

The teen sighed, nodding quietly, but drew in a breath, audibly. It came faint, uneven, and sharp, like the beat of his heart. "O-Okay." He muttered. Yeah, everything was gonna be okay, he was gonna live, he was gonna be okay.

Suddenly though, another scream ripped through his throat and slowly, the boy's screeches turned into silent, but saddening, sobs. "B-But, T-Tony…" He whispered, quietly.

"Yeah?" The billionaire looked down at the fifteen year old in his arms, hopefully, but also kind of desperately. They'd known each other for a year or so, so far—maybe a year and a half—but, in that time, they'd grown closer than ever and, in that time, though Tony would never admit it, he thought of Peter as a son—as the son he never had, as his son. He wanted to be the father he wished his was and he didn't care if he wasn't actually his father. He wanted to be that character and play that role for him.

He didn't know it was possible to get so close to someone so quickly.

But, at that moment, as the mentor peered down at the fragile figure in his arms, he realized just how small and young he really was.

Peter was only fifteen, just a month away from turning sixteen.

There was no way he could die. At least, not now.

"Yeah, bud?" He continued, his voice cracking so slightly he didn't even notice it until he continued talking. He tried to keep it together though—oh, how he desperately tried to keep it and stitch it back together—to no avail. It wasn't gonna work, he couldn't hold back his emotions anymore. "Yeah, sport? What's up?" He gritted his teeth to hold back his tears.

Unfortunately, it didn't work.

Crap, that was embarrassing…

….But, then again, didn't that only show he cared? Why had it become embarrassing to show emotion, to show love, to show admiration? To show that he cared? What about that made him weak?

He supposed it didn't matter. Really, the only thing that did at the moment, was the kid.

The kid, that was dying, crying, screaming and bleeding in his arms.

He sighed. Man, did he mess up big time…

All he could think about was the vision Wanda had shown him, just a few years ago, with all the Avengers lying dead. He was the only one still standing, he was the one who was forced to see them all dead. Yet he found himself there again, staring down at a boy who he had grown attached to, dying, and all he could do was sit there. Watching as he died, while he survived.

And, for once, Tony wished the roles were reversed because he—he did not deserve to survive while this fifteen year old—a fifteen year old boy—died.

"I-I'm sorry," the young superhero mumbled. His hands were still covered over his wound, over his injury, putting pressure on it, but now they were under Tony's, the two both trying to stop and block the blood. It wasn't working, though. Nothing was. The kid was still bleeding out, losing too much blood to be what was considered to be healthy, and the crimson liquid was still standing out against kid's pale, ghost-like skin. "I-I'm sorry, Tony," He continued, "T-Tony, I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry, Tony, I'm sorry. I-I failed you, I failed you, Tony, I failed you, and I'm so, so sorry for failing you..."

Upon hearing these words, Iron Man's heart broke a little more than what it did before. Slowly, he cast a glance down at the frail figure and smiled what he hoped was a hopeful smile, though he was pretty sure it came off as a sad one, more than anything else.

He sighed suddenly. The kid didn't deserve this.

Heck, he didn't deserve any of what was coming to him.

Good thing he was gonna make sure he lived to know that.

"Don't apologize, Peter," He whispered as the kid's eyes met his, before the former tried to shift uncomfortably in the latter's arms. He was trying to find a comfortable position, Tony knew that, he observed that, but, then again, the boy couldn't really do that when it wasn't one limb that was in pain, rather than his entire body.

"Don't apologize," He continued. "Okay? Just don't. You've done more things in your year and a half of being Spider-Man than I have in the past few years of being Iron Man and there's no need to apologize for that, okay?"

"B-But…" Peter groaned and the next few words that he muttered broke the older man's heart, completely shattering it to bits and pieces. "But, I was supposed to b-be better…"

'Crap,' the genius inventor realized. 'Crap, I really did it this time…'

"You are," the man replied after a minute, and he specifically made sure to use present tense. "You are, Peter, and you're so much better than me, okay? So much better. You didn't fail me. You could never fail me. If anything I failed you, okay?" He said each word without hesitation, making sure to emphasize each one to purposely prove his point.

"O-Okay," The boy whispered, his eyes fluttering shut. His voice was fading faster and faster and Tony wasn't sure whether he was beginning to fall fully dead or fully unconscious, but he chose to believe the latter. There was no way he could believe anything else.

And so, slowly, the teens breaths became even, as he succumbed to the darkness. As he did so, however, he let out two, final, and two, simple, words.

His final words.

His final mark on the world.

The end of a legacy, one that had just barely started.

No wild declarations, no grand wishes, and no long speeches.

His final words, were two simple words.

Two simple words, from an extraordinary person.

"Th-Thanks, T-T-Tony…"

Wellll, that didn't mean to happen...

Guess that's what happens when you work with someone who loves Spider-Man and superheroes as much as you do.

...The main character gets killed off. XD.

My—er, our bad XD.

Haha, it's fine though, right? Hopefully that won't happen in the actual film.

I need Homecoming 2, people! And more Pony! (the father-son pairing of Peter and Tony) XD.

So, hopefully you guys loved reading this as much as I loved writing it! And, if you did, then, hey, maybe you could leave a little comment or somethin' in the little box below? :)

Until next time!

~Star :)