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He always covered his body in clothes. Always pants even during the summer, long sleeves no matter how hot it was outside, no swimming or undressing of any kind in front of anyone. Because no one knew.
No one knew that he pressed broken glass to his arms every night. Sometimes his hips, thighs, ankles, he even had a few on his shoulders.
His wrists were the best place. Easiest to get to. Best to scratch during the day. His left was worse than his right. He’d attempted twice with a blade before trying with pills.
Failing three times… he’s a coward. Didn’t cut deep enough. Didn’t take enough pills. Maybe god wanted him to suffer through life. Even if god did exist, he’s a dick.
May had her own problems. Money, her job, him. He was a fucking burden.
Ned and MJ. They didn’t need to know. He didn’t want to burden them. Make them think it was their fault. It was only his fault no one else’s.
The Avengers, Tony. He was just a stupid teenager seeking attention why would he tell them? Why would he tell anyone?
So he continued to do it. Some lines straight, others jagged, some deep others shallow, some turned to pink scars others turned white, some were raised scars others just drawings on smooth skin.
He liked to look at them sometimes. Trace his fingers over them. Only ever in his bedroom alone. Only when he knew he was truly alone.
On a particularly terrible day he decided to be dumb enough to do it at the avengers compound. What an idiot. Thinking he wouldn’t get caught. Dumbass him.
The day was bad straight from the start. He caught May early in the morning talking on the phone about bills. He was eating her out of house and home. He was costing her so much money.
Then he got pushed around by Flash. Like usual but it just added to the stress level that was already there.
He forgot to do his homework, too many patrols too many break downs he forgot in the mist of it all. On top of that he was given more by that same teacher so he could catch up.
Plus on his patrol after school he couldn’t save someone. This woman was being mugged and Peter tried his hardest but then the man pulled a gun shot at him then shot her in the head.
He’d cried over her body before the cops finally came around. Then he had three break downs on the way to the avengers compound. He was staying there tonight since it was Friday.
Speaking of Friday. FRIDAY was always watching. He should have thought about it. He shouldn’t have been so stupid…
He found some bandage first because today was a bad day. Bad days are always when he went deep. Never too deep though.
He cut for ever bad thing he did. Then some more. Then some more.
“Stop, stop, stop, stop.” He muttered to himself tears rushing down his face mixing with the blood on the porcelain of the sink.
He calmed himself before he started cleaning up. Once he started cleaning himself and the bathroom up though he started crying again.
He washed his arms, then wiped his hips and thighs. He was shaking the entire time. He bandaged them carefully. He always had bandages in his bag. In case of patrol mishaps or if he was doing this away from home.
Peter had never done it away from home though. It was always at home. He put the large bandages over his hips then a few over his thighs. He then wrapped his arms and slowly readjusted his clothes so they looked alright.
He jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Shit, shit, shit, shit. He quickly wrapped the broken glass in toilet paper then threw it in the garbage beside the toilet.
“Peter? We’re having dinner. Nat made her famous mac & cheese. Don’t worry Steve didn’t touch it this time.” Tony’s voice made him wince. There’s no way he could know. FRIDAY is not in the bathroom so there’s no way he’d know.
“I’ll be there in a second just washing my hands.” Peter turned the tap on as he made sure everything looked normal in case anyone decided to go in his bathroom.
He was done in seconds turning off the water after wetting his hands and then opened the door. Tony was standing there still. He looked concerned. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Mac & cheese right? Nat’s is my favourite.” Peter made his way out of the room Tony right on his heels.
“FRIDAY said you were in distress in there. That you had wounds that weren’t from patrolling.” Tony said but Peter just frowned entering their little dining area.
From the looks on the other Avengers faces FRIDAY had alerted them all about it. Fucking great. Time for acting, hopefully he was as good as the time May found a bloody tissue in the trash.
“What? No, I did have some scraps from patrol but that’s it.” Peter said as they got to the table. Tony grabbed his arm gently stopping him from sitting down and ignoring this.
“Let’s go to the med bay then. Get someone to look at them.” Tony said and Peter continued trying to act obvious.
“Well I already bandaged them. I always have medical bandages in bag in case. I usually just do it myself.” Peter said to which Tony carefully and slowly moving his hand to the kids wrist.
He turned it over and rolled up the sleeve. Peter continued his act knowing how to play this out. He went over how to hide them if anyone found out. He asked May for a cat once even. Which was a better excuse the patrol all the time.
“Mind if I take the bandage off?” Tony asked and Peter frowned in fake confusion.
Peter reached down as if to do it himself. There was a wrap around his arm. The bandaids weren’t big enough to fit the amount of cuts on his arm so he used wrap. He then looked up at Tony with a fake realization.
“You think I did this to myself?” He asked softly and almost hurt. Tony just stood there. Peter just laughed. “Why the hell would I do that?” He asked but Tony didn’t answer.
“You tell us Peter.” Wanda said and Peter looked over at the other Avengers hand still on his bandage more blocking Tony from doing it. It did look like he was frozen in the middle of taking it off though.
“I don’t know because I don’t? I have such a good life. I’ve got good grades, amazing friends, I love my aunt, and I hang out with the freaking Avengers for god sakes. What’s there to be sad about?” Peter smiles looking up Tony who seems conflicted. Like he really wants to know but he also wants to trust Peter’s word.
“You don’t have to have a reason to be sad Peter.” Sam says and that hurt something inside Peter.
He pulls away from Tony and looks away wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Tears have never come on so fast before in his life. Stupid Sam knowing exactly what to say.
“Peter—"
“There’s no reason for me to be sad!” Peter shouted looking up at them the act gone far away from his thoughts. “There’s no reason for you to even care. No one cares.” Peter whispered the last bit and Tony stepped toward him only for Peter to step back.
“We care kid.” Tony said to him but he shook his head.
“No, no, I’m just another enhanced person for you to use in battle. I’m just a stupid annoying kid who’s death you don’t want on your conscious!” Peter kept backing up but he ran into someone. He turned finding Steve behind him a soft sorrowful expression on his face.
“Peter we care more than you know. If you were just some annoying kid you wouldn’t be staying here with us every weekend. I wouldn’t have you come over and see Morgan. I wouldn’t think of you as my son, if I didn’t care.” Tony said as Peter moved further back into Steve who didn’t move. Tony just gripped his shoulder and he winced.
“Sorry.” Peter said shrugging Tony’s hand off. “I’m sorry. I—"
“Peter?” It was a different voice this time. One he didn’t hear often. “If I show you mine will you show me yours?” Bucky said giving the kid a smile and rolling up his own sleeve.
Peter stared at the white lines that went up and down his forearm. Some were jagged, others straight, some crossed others, there was a long faint one down the centre from his wrist to his inner elbow.
Peter touched his arm tracing the lines on it. Bucky flipped his arm revealing more but these ones were smaller and never touched each other.
“Can I see yours?” Bucky asked softly and Peter looked down at his arms that were covered by his sweatshirt.
It was a minute. Peter stared at Bucky, at his arms. Tears continued to fall even as he did. No one spoke. No one moved an inch.
They all needed Peter to break the silence and he did when he was ready. He hesitated but he spoke to the super soldier before him.
“Hold on I just gotta…" Peter glanced around quickly before whispering something in Bucky’s ear.
“Okay, okay, is it alright if I go with you? Just cause—"
“Yeah, I get it.” Peter said before moving out of the room.
“Buck?” Sam called after Bucky as he followed making him pause turning back.
“He’s just gonna get changed.” Bucky said and they frowned. “You’ll understand when you see.” He said before going after Peter.
The Avengers left in the room stood silently. Peter was barely sixteen and he was hurting himself. Tony put his head in his hands and Steve held him.
—
Peter changed into a t-shirt and shorts. Bucky had to give them to him because he only had things that covered his body. Long sleeves, pants, hoodies.
He stared at himself in the mirror. His bandaged legs, hips, ankles, shoulders, wrists. The scars that spilled from underneath the bandages. He looked awful.
“Peter? It’s been a while you alright?” Bucky’s voice was soft behind the door.
“No.”
“Can I come in?”
Peter didn’t want that. He wasn’t hurting himself but he didn’t want anyone to see him like this. He knew he had to show them. He knew they deserved to know but he hated himself like this. Not just the cuts, no some of the scars gave him comfort but, he hated his body.
“Peter?”
“I uh… I don’t like myself.” He said and knew Bucky was concerned. He hadn’t locked the door and Bucky knew that. It was comforting that he actually asked Peter to let him in instead of just bursting in.
“That’s alright. We’re gonna help you okay? I’ve got some people I know, superhero’s as well as non super people, who’ve been through this. I’ll introduce them to you one day. You just can’t tell Tony. He doesn’t like many of them.” Peter smiled at that.
“Okay you can… c—come in.” He choked out eventually and the door slowly opened.
Bucky didn’t look at him as if he was some broken fragile thing that needed fixing. He liked that. He knew what to expect when the others saw him.
“I think that you look just fine. That no matter if you have open wounds or scars, that it shows you’re working through it. You not doing this from now on, shows you’re working through it.” Bucky said moving his hand to Peter’s upper arm. Just below the bandages on his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
With that Peter went with Bucky back to the dining room. He had loose navy basketball shorts on, the t-shirt Bucky gave him was big he was practically swimming in it.
The other Avengers all had different reactions to how many places Peter had cut his body. It was mostly full of sadness. But Sam and Natasha just looked at him proudly as if he’d done something no one else could do.
He liked them a lot. Same with Bucky. He was definitely gonna hang out with them more now.
“I uh…” he sat down and tried to get out what he needed to say. He knew the wraps on his arms were slowly bleeding through. “I don’t think any are deep enough for stitches but uh… you can—you can ch—eck.” Bucky rubbed his back soothingly knowing that trusting people with looking at the wounds was hard.
Bruce moved toward him carefully and smiled. Peter knew he’d tried to die before. He could relate to him. Everyone at the table had their own struggles. Maybe they couldn’t directly relate but in a way…
Peter nodded when Bruce grabbed his arm softly. He got more and more anxious as the wrap came off. Bucky crouched down beside him as he saw Peter’s leg jump up and down. His free hand also gripped the chair quite hard.
Bucky took his free hand with his telling him to squeeze as hard as he could. His metal hand just kept rubbing Peter’s back.
“These ones look alright. Could use a butterfly stitch to a couple if that’s alright Peter?” Bruce asked and Peter nodded jerkily.
“You doing so good Pete.” Tony said from across the table and Peter looked up at him and tears spilled from his eyes. “Can I come give you a hug?” Tony seemed to have tears in his eyes as well.
Peter just nodded and Tony moved over to him Bucky moving away. Peter let Bruce continue with his arm and gave Tony a one armed hug.
“Can I ask how many you got?” Tony asked softly and Peter hesitated.
He just stayed silent watching Bruce put the last butterfly bandaid on his arm. His arm was wrapped back up after that.
He bit his lip and stopped Bruce when he went to look at the other arm. Peter was slow and hesitant, so much so that they weren’t sure what he was doing until he spoke.
“I got uh…” he paused standing looking up at Tony who had been leaning against the table. Bucky hadn’t moved from where he stood behind Peter. “I’m sorry. ‘Bout all this.” Peter muttered biting his lip and Tony just moved his hand to the side of the kids head making sure they made eye contact.
“It’s no trouble. I’m just glad you’re okay with us being here. Helping you. We’re gonna get you help.” They hugged again and Peter let tears loose into Tony’s shoulder.
It went on for a few moments before Peter pulled away. He swallowed wiping his face of tears.
“You said—“ his voice cracked, “you said you wanted to know how many…" Tony grabbed Peter’s hand before he could unwrap his other arm.
“You don’t have to show us all of them kid. You can go with Bruce to the med bay and he can check you out.” Tony said but Peter shook his head.
“‘S okay.” He said slowly unwrapping his arm, the one Bruce hadn’t cleaned up yet.
This wrist was worse and Tony held back his own whimper of pain. There was blood drying to his arm. Some wounds looked deep.
He then moved the t-shirt out of the way. There was white bandages on his right hip, old white scars on his left. The wounds under the bandage had bled through. He winced taking it off.
Peter lifted the shorts up to reveal cuts on his thighs. Some new, some old, a bandage covered a few. He took those off revealing fresh cuts.
Then he leaned down and took his left sock off. Tony could see a few faint white scars on his right ankle. Peter took the bandage off his left ankle.
After that he moved the short sleeve of the t-shirt and took off the bandage there revealing neat red lines on his shoulder. Then he did the same with his right shoulder.
“It’s—it’s a lot. I’m sorry—“
“Don’t apologize kid. It’s gonna be okay.” Tony said giving the kid, his kid, a sad smile.
Peter moved shrinking into Tony’s chest and the man welcomed him. He wrapped his arms around the boy not caring about the tears and snot or the dried blood.
“I’m gonna be okay.” Peter muttered into his mentor, his fathers, chest.
—
After that Peter got better. Tony was always there for him. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it he hadn’t before but he tried.
Peter’s therapist was nice. Her name was Zella. She worked specifically with people who had enhanced abilities. She was nice and knew that sitting in some dull room wouldn’t help him much. Usually they sat outside in the grass watching the day go by.
Bucky took him to different people he knew who went through terrible things like they did. Peter got new friends that way.
A girl named Gwen, she was nice and quiet but good to talk to. Deadpool was hilarious and he knew Tony wouldn’t approve. But once Peter went back out on patrols he totally had tacos with Wade every Tuesday and Thursday on the roof of some random bar.
He met a princess who didn’t really have any problems except being part of gen z like him. They exchanged numbers and she was quickly added to his, Ned, and MJ’s “wtf are the DADvengers” group chat. Don’t ask him about the name he doesn’t even know anymore it changes on a daily basis.
Tony brought a kid in only a year older than him. Harley Keener. Peter didn’t know he liked women and men until Harley kissed him and told him he didn’t care about the outside only the inside.
Basically he forgot.
He forgot about the sadness for a long while. And when he remembered it… Harley was there. Shuri was there. Gwen was there. Wade was there. Bucky was there. Nat was there. Sam was there. The rest of the Avengers were there too. Ned was there. MJ was there. Aunt May was there. Tony— Dad —was there.
He wasn’t alone anymore. He was never going to be alone again. And maybe he’d remember the sadness again, and again, and again, but they’d still be there. They’d always be there.
He finally figured out he was loved no matter if he remembered the sadness was there or not.
—