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Jake relaxed into the wall, the cold biting at his skin through his pyjamas. The rooftop was colder than the last time he came up here, but he didn’t particularly mind as it gave him something to focus on.
Alert, he scanned the surroundings, looking at the skyline of the buildings across from him. He could hear the traffic from below, and the sound, along with the wind began to ground him. Jake was still on high alert from his night terror and even though it was only 3 in the morning, he knew that he wouldn’t be sleeping again. Instead, he’d sit here and watch the sunrise and then load up on caffeine before school.
His head whipped around at the sound of feet coming across the concrete, a sound he probably wouldn’t have noticed without his hyperawareness.
Somebody was walking towards him.
//-//
“Is it weird to follow someone that you’re worried about?” Peter absently asked Wade from where he was on the roof.
Wade shrugged, humming. “Well, I tend to only follow the people I'm planning on murdering, so I'm not sure. Maybe you should ask Double D?”
Peter sighed. He should have realised that asking Deadpool wouldn’t be particularly useful. “Right. Yeah. Somebody I can base my moral compass on. Somebody who actually has a moral compass” His eyes scanned the street, tracking Jake as he made his way back to his apartment.
“Who is your moral compass based on? Wade pondered out loud as they settled down on the rooftop for a night of observation. “Captain America? Stark? I know I would follow those golden boy rules if it meant I ever had a chance with him,” He finished wistfully.
Peter snorted. “Definitely not Cap,” he replied. “That man would break any law for justice or to get what he wants. Mr. Stark though? Maybe.” He paused to consider. “Well, no. I mean his morals are good, but sometimes his vision gets clouded. I would actually say that Pepper is more my voice of reason. And May. Can’t forget Aunt May.” He finished.
They continued chatting through the night, and Peter was beginning to struggle to stay awake. He missed it when Jake stumbled onto the roof, but Deadpool didn’t. He tapped Peter’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “Hey, is that your little project?” He asked.
Peter frowned under his mask. “Hey, don’t call him that,” He defended as he looked up. “Yeah, stay here. I’m gonna go and speak to him.” He said, and stepped up to the ledge to shoot a web to the other side.
He landed and made his approach known when he walked over.
Jake looked up and Peter could hear his heart pounding in his chest. “Hey,” He said, and sank down next to him. “Nightmare?”
Jake took a shuddery breath. Calm down, it’s only S pider-Man. He internally berated himself, wishing that he could feel safe with anybody who he knew wasn’t dangerous. “Yeah.” He replied. “Can’t sleep after them.”
Peter hummed, leaning his head against the wall. “Neither can I,” He said. “I used to patrol before I went to bed, but now I often go when I wake up. What use is laying in bed when I can be outside, right?”
“Where the room feels like it’s closing in on you.” Jake agreed. That’s why he came up here.
They sat in silence for a while, and Jake forced his eyes closed, despite the inescapable panic that was building in his chest that told him not to, that told him he was in danger.
Peter noticed the climb in Jake’s heart rate, and continued speaking to try and draw him out of his panic. “Y’know, it took me years to know that I had PTSD,” he said drawing his knees up. “It took me longer to accept it and get help.”
Jake huffed. He knew what Spider-Man was implying. “You’re Spider-Man ,” he said. “You experience trauma like that on a regular basis, so you have a reason for it,”
Peter had expected this. He was prepared, as much as he didn’t like to talk about it. “No, Jake. No. Some of my trauma stems from doing this,” He gestured to the suit. “But I had PTSD long before that, from a trauma I experienced as a child.”
Jake looked towards him. “What happened?” He asked, his voice coming out almost as a whisper.
“I’m not going to tell you that,” Peter said. Images of Skip and what he had done were beginning to surface, and he didn’t want to have to deal with a flashback whilst trying to help Jake. “You don’t need to know about what happened to me, and I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m not going to ask what happened to you, either.”
“Oh.” Jake said. “I’m sorry, That’s- yeah. I get that.”
Another pause lingered between them.
“Do you- does it still hurt?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, It does. Not as bad as it did, but that’s because I get help for it,” Jake let out a sigh. Peter realised that he didn’t really want to talk about it any more, and took the decision to make an excuse. “You go back inside, Jake.” He said, watching the goosebumps on his arms. “You look frozen.”
Jake nodded standing up. “Night, Spidey.” He said with a niggling feeling that he hadn’t actually told Spider-Man his name. However, he conceded, he wasn't particularly in the right state of mind for remembering details like that, with the night terrors and all.
“I’ll be here tomorrow night.” He promised, “Only if you need me.”
//-//
Peter was up on the roof the following night and for many nights after the first one, usually beating Jake there.
“Hey, Jake.” He said as the boy slunk against the wall, about a month after the first night. They talked regularly, and Spider-Man had gotten Jake to agree to try out therapy.
Jake’s heart was still pounding as he grinded his teeth together. “I’m going to take your hands,” Spider-Man said, and Jake was glad for the warming. He knew that he would have probably tried to punch spider-Man if he hadn’t, and wouldn’t that just leave a stellar impression. “Okay, let's breathe together.”
Peter went through his breathing exercises with Jake, listening until his heartbeat had calmed completely.
“How did you know to do that?” Jake asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. His voice was still shaky and pitched slightly wrong, but it was getting better.
Peter shrugged. “My therapist taught me the breathing techniques,” He explained. “But I know what to do when somebody is panicking. I know a lot of people with superpowers who get panic attacks or need to be calmed from a night terror. It comes with the territory.”
“Do you- they-” Jake cut off his sentence, sighing.
Peter cocked his head. “What is it?” He asked, reassuring.
A beat passed, until Jake’s timid voice cut through the silence, like he was embarrassed. “Do they ever get violent?” Peter bit his lip and was about to reply before Jake interrupted him. “I get violent sometimes, if someone startles me.” He whispered. “I-It’s scary. I decided to learn self-defence from this guy I know. I didn’t want to feel weak, a-and thought maybe that It would get better if I knew how to defend myself, but now it’s worse. I punched my dad the other day, and I’m so scared that I’ll do it to my little sister.”
Jake sounded so broken that Peter’s heart leapt up to his throat. He tightened his grip on Jakes’ hands, reassuringly. “Hey, I understand.” He said. “We all have combat training and can defend ourselves if anyone gets violent, but we all also know how to tread around any triggers.” Peter couldn’t count the amount of times that somebodies fist had clocked his face whilst staying with the avengers. “Have you told your therapist about this?”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t think that I’d really know what to say,” he admitted. “I don’t know how she could help me with that.”
“You’d be surprised,” Peter said.
//-//
“I’m getting a service dog,” Jake told him. They had been meeting less recently, Jakes nightmares becoming fewer and he worked through trauma and was able to manage his PTSD better.
“You are?” Peter said, prompting Jake to explain further.
“My therapist suggested it. She said that it could help my PTSD, and keep me and others safe.” He explained.
Peter was already aware that Jake’s parents were talking about pulling him out of school if he couldn’t manage his instinct to hit anything that made him jump. Having a service dog seemed a reasonable solution to this- It would allow Jake to continue on at school, whilst giving him any help that he needed.
“That seems good,” Peter commented, smiling. “Really good.” He was truly happy for Jake.
//-//
Peter saw Jake around school with his service dog and watched how she helped him.
Charlotte,
Jake had told him one night.
From charlotte’s web, because you’re a spider.
Peter appreciated the reference. He saw the change in Jake when he got the dog, watched his confidence gain as she worked with him. He felt happy that he could help, and pushed the ‘
what if’
away, if he hadn’t taken it as his responsibility to help.