Work Text:
PROLOGUE
Why do my thoughts control me?
A light in a small bedroom flickered to life. The walls lined with Star Wars posters, insanely high level formulas and equations, and complex drawings. You could almost picture the teenage boy that inhabited it by that alone.
Why can’t I choose how I feel or think?
One of the pictures was visibly tattered. Red and black outlines crinkled and ripped, tape covering the tears. Smack. A shaking hand slammed into it, a boy attached. He, he looked nothing close to the story that was painted on the walls. His breaths came in short, quick bursts.
I’d like to get some rest..
But voices echo in my head—
“Maybe if you would’ve done better...” he gasped, tearing the picture off of the wall once more, though this time it seemed he was unaware. “T— Tony would still...”
My heart, it races in my chest
His voice broke. “—Would still be alive.”
But feels heavy full of lead.
The boy gulped, covering his ears as if a train’s horn was sounding too loud— perhaps it was. He was clearly hearing so much more than what he’d repeated. He muttered ‘stop’ so many times in his panicked state, the word was foreign and puzzling on his tongue. He stumbled toward another door.
Cant escape, I know I’ve tried.
His eyes hit a dimly lit mirror, an almost unrecognizable figure standing—swirling before him. His dark hair was matted to his forehead, his lips quivering, his skin two shades paler than normal. He turned away, nearly tripping as he fell into the glassed case, his hand turning the knob to the coolest setting before feeling the rain-like drops from the shower-head. As he fell to the floor, he let the icy water numb the pain.
But I’m trapped inside my mind.
Sobs finally escaped the dark haired boys trembling lips. He could hear his phone ringing, blaring with the enhanced strength of his ears— though it was muffled behind the voices that screamed within his head.
Next, the phone in the little kitchen in the new apartment he’d been placed in, the twenty-sixth one in four months after being exposed to the world. It was louder, yet nearly silent. He didn’t move, only shuddered.
Cold. It was so, so cold. Especially with his powers, the thing that had bitten him had made the cold so— so much worse.
There were so many thoughts running through his mind, so many scenarios playing out differently, though he had the power to see infinite futures... like someone he knew. He let his hands to his forehead, pushing the drenched hair out of his face.
“Breathe..” He tried to tell himself, but just as the phone stopped ringing, so did his ears. He stopped shaking, stopped letting out rushed breaths, just stared in front of him.
Beep
”Peter fucking Parker! I swear if you’re dead I’m gonna kill you!”
“Tired...”
Well, cue Peter Parker not listening, and blackout.