Peter didn't know how it happened.

They were fighting. The Avengers and the Guardians and the Wakandans all together in one last ditch effort to prevent the apocalypse from happening. It was going pretty well, he thought. And he felt amazing! Knowing that he was able to help in something as extraordinary as this. Knowing that he could do something good for others. Maybe prove himself further to Mr. Stark.

But like most things in Peter's seventeen years, it all went to crap pretty quickly.

They were overrun by Thanos' henchmen. The "Black Order" they called themselves. Peter thought that would make a killer goth band name.

He watched as his friends tried to hold them off from getting to the red android guy. He had an Infinity Stone attached to his head. And Thanos was desperate to get to it.

He slung web after web in an attempt to distract the enemy. But they were strong. The largest one, who easily stood 15 feet high, with scaly skin and large spiky tusk things on his jaw lumbered towards him. Peter yelped and volted high into the air, dislodging sticky webs into his assailant's face. Tusky roared in fury, yelling obscenities in a language Peter couldn't understand.

Peter whooped, and continued leaping around the giant, throwing web after web at him until he was almost completely immobilized.

He noticed someone land heavily beside him. It was the Star guy. Star-God or something like that. Quill. That's right. He liked Quill. He was funny and he had good taste in music. Movies, not so much. But there was an air of cheerful youth about the man that drew Peter to him. If Quill were in highschool they'd probably be best friends. Maybe, once all this was over and the world was saved, he'd invite him to Queens. Give him a tour of New York and show him how to build his Lego Death Star set with Ned. Aunt May would love him.

Quill shot a quick nod Peter's way, raising his blasters and letting loose a volley of energy blasts into Tusky's face, who yelled in fury and pain. Peter could almost feel the smile behind Quill's mask. He flipped through the air, using his boots to propel him up and over the monster, smacking him on the head with his gun for good measure.

So sick, Peter thought.

Spiderman stuck his tongue out in concentration, ready to finish the job with his new teammate when suddenly Tusky managed to get one of his massive arms free. He batted Quill out of the air like a fly, and swung his arm towards Peter, who easily leapt to the side to avoid the hit. But he deeply underestimated Tusky's reflexes, because the moment he thought he was in the clear, the other giant arm came sailing towards him.

It crashed right onto Peter's left shoulder and upper chest, denting the metal of his Iron Spider suit and throwing him to the ground. He cried out in agony as he heard a faint 'pop,' the pain blinding him.

He gasped and tried to roll over, do anything to avoid being killed. But black spots littered his vision and he couldn't move and where was Mr. Stark?

He blinked his eyes open and desperately sought out the red and gold armor he was so familiar with. But he couldn't find it anywhere. A pit formed in his stomach. He hoped Mr. Stark was okay.

The ground shook as Tusky bounded towards him, raising a large, hammer type weapon in his hand. He held it over his head and swung it down directly towards Peter.

Peter closed his eyes, preparing for his end. Mr. Stark would be so disappointed.

But before the awful crash of the weapon came down on him, he was snatched from the ground.

Flying, he thought absently. He looked up at his rescuer.

"Star-Man," was all he could manage to mutter. His vision faded in and out.

Quill looked down at him, mask still activated. He snorted, "Close enough, kid." They soared high above the carnage.

"Where... goin'?" Peter mumbled, wondering why Quill was taking him away from the fight rather than back towards it.

"Gettin' you to safety." Quill responded, adjusting his hold on Peter's good shoulder.

"Gotta fight," Peter tried to remove himself from Quill's grasp, but stopped when he remembered that they were 40 feet above ground.

"Yeah, no." Quill said, darting quickly to the side as a wayward blast came their way. "You got hit pretty bad, it's too danger-"

A whoosh of air, an impact, a grunt of pain, and they were falling.

Falling right into the raging war below.

The ground rushed up to meet them fast, and Peter found himself wondering why the war had to be in the middle of a freaking African savannah instead of in a city surrounded by buildings. There was no place for him to shoot his webs. Just open air. No way for him to save them.

They probably wouldn't die falling from that height. At least he wouldn't, with his spider enhanced body and advanced healing. He couldn't say the same for Quill.

Just as they were about to hit, a firey orange ring opened up below them. Instead of crashing to the hard ground, they were crashing into cold water.

Peter gasped at the impact, mouth filling with water. His arm felt like it had been ripped off. Maybe it was, he thought. His vision darkened again and he felt himself sinking down, the black water beckoning him to sleep.

He really wanted to sleep. He hoped Quill had made it out okay. As he drifted away, he thought of May. He hoped she was safe. Happy. He knew Mr. Stark would make sure she was. He thought of Uncle Ben. His parents. Maybe now he'd be able to see them again.

He let the darkness consume him.