Prompts Filled: Rituals & Witching Hour
Everyone was up in a tizzy. Someone had broken into the safe of Stark Industries and had stolen the broken Iron Man armor. The same armor that Tony Stark died in, that Pepper had had locked up so that no one could ever steal his designs and use them for anything other than what Tony intended.
And someone had stolen it! Had taken it right under security’s nose!
What on Earth would someone want with broken, empty armor?
Peter hadn’t meant to get so caught up in this. What had started all of this was the arc reactor, of all things.
(That, and he just missed Tony Stark so damn much.)
He had stood by, holding hands with May, and just watched as Pepper let the original arc reactor float away in the water. And he got it, that this was symbolsing of the world letting go of Tony Stark or whatever, but all he could think about was that she shouldn’t have done that, now anyone could end up finding it and does who-knows-what with it!
So, once it had gotten dark, he had crept back out to the lake - grateful that Pepper and Morgan had gone to stay with her family for a couple of days - and dived in, finding the reactor and taking it back to the apartment.
It was all downhill from there, really.
Peter was desperate. And when he had found the spell one day by accident when he was helping out Dr. Strange, how could he not attempt it? The ritual itself seemed easy enough, and really, if it didn’t work, no one would have to know what he had done, right?
So… he stole the Iron Man suit.
And now… now he was out in the cemetery, in a large black hoodie with the hood covering his face - and laying out the broken pieces of the Iron Man armor. Next, he pulled out the picture of him and Mr. Stark, sitting it down next to him. Next came some candles, the copy of the spell he had made so Dr. Strange wouldn’t notice the book missing, and then the herbs he “borrowed” from the other man to make up for the ones he couldn’t find himself. The final pieces he needed were the arc reactor, and a small vial of blood. Breaking the arc reactor out of the little case it was in, he gently placed it on top of the empty chest of the suit. Then, lighting the candles, he sat back on his knees, pulling a pocket knife out.
Like he said, he was desperate, okay?
Glancing up at the full moon above him, he took a deep breath. He didn’t even really need the paper, he had memorized the spell word for word at this point. He didn’t want to risk messing anything up.
“As the witching hour rises with the glow of the moon
I bring to you, the pieces of a soul taken too soon.”
He closed his eyes and took another deep breath before he opened up the vial and dropping the few drops in the middle of the reactor. It was Morgan’s, which he had gotten from Stark Industries, since Tony had been paranoid - he had blood samples of everyone he knew and cared about, and Peter had only needed the few drops, so it wouldn't be missed.
“With the blood of the family and the blood of the willing,” he said, now dragging the knife across his hand and dripping his own blood on top of the reactor. He took a shaky breath as he glanced at his watch.
“Now with the power of the full moon, I will you to come back to the living!”
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Nothing. He rested his head on the cold metal, heartbroken. It didn’t work. He felt a few tears slip down his cheeks and fall onto the metal below his cheek.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Peter’s body locked up as his spidey sense went haywire, and then he felt a large metal hand come up to cradle the back of his head.
