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Survival is human instinct. We have fight or flight for a reason. You don't naturally want to die. So why do so many people want to kill themselves?
Everything becomes a matter of control. Humans need it, they crave it more than anything. School counselors and self-proclaimed "mental health advocate"s will talk about how "Eating disorders are more than just body issues, but a lack of control" as if it hasn't been said a thousand times before, and this suddenly made them a scholar in the subject.
To an extent they're right, though (God be damned); all we ever want is control and we get it through any means necessary. Whether it includes our own downfall or others.
And then there's the haunting realization that we will never truly have control. Maybe that's why we want to kill ourselves, because it's the final act. It's the one thing we can control; our death.
He knows this is just another futile attempt at having any semblance of control in his life. Everything shattered when Ben died but the pieces never fell out of the frame until people began to shake it. Now he was just glass on the floor.
The wallet feels heavy in his hands. He can't tell if it's because of the heavy setting guilt or that there's probably an insane amount of money inside of it. He doesn't want to take it, he shouldn't take it, but he does, and he almost thinks he'll get away with taking just a couple hundred dollars-
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The wallet drops from his hands. The fifty-dollar bill was still pinched between his fingers but he quickly lets that fall into the bag too. He lets his hands fall at his sides and tries to stutter an excuse. Tries, because there's no excuse he can give.
"I'm- I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark- Sir- There's no excuse, I just-" He cuts himself off, swallowing a thick trail of saliva.
"Clearly there isn't. I want an explanation, kid." The word kid had, since then, always been so endearing, but right then it made him sick to his stomach with worry and regret. Tears pool in his eyes but he forces them back. He doesn't have the right to cry.
"It was wrong- I'm sorry- I can leave. Just please don't press charges, May can't afford that. Not because of me. You'll never have to see me again and-"
"Kindly? Shut up." Tony pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'm not suing you, Jesus. There's nothing I'd get out of suing you other than a couple thousand dollars that I, frankly, don't need. Is money tight at home, kid?" His voice gets softer, slowly. He's still precautious, but he takes a step toward Peter. "You seriously don't- You should've just told me, if it is. You know I've got the money but I can't trust you if you're taking money."
He almost says yes, that that's what's going on. And to an extent it's true; it always is. It was hard enough with Ben, but without they're just barely getting by. Still, it's nothing they can't handle. Even without Peter's constant need to stay strong in front of everyone, he'd agree to that.
But he can't lie. Not to Tony's face, and not after this. "No, it isn't that," Peter whispers.
"Then what is it? For Christ's sake, I know you- Or I thought I did. You'd never do this. Don't- Don't tell me you're buying drugs, Underoos, because I swear to god I will make you take a test and send your ass straight to rehab-"
"No!" Peter shouts. "It isn't drugs!" He can't stop the tears now. "You know I wouldn't ever-" He wipes at the onslaught of snot and tears, trying to get it together in front of his idol whose trust he completely tarnished.
"Pete," Tony whispers, letting his hands rest on the teenager's shoulders. "I need you to tell me what's going on. I don't care if you need some money from me, I have more than enough, what I need is to be able to trust you."
"I know. I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," Peter cries, and against his own wishes he shoves his face in the chest of Tony. It's met with a familiar firm but soft hand running up and down his back, despite Peter's initial embarrassment. "I can leave, make it easier. We don't- We don't have to go through it and you'll never-"
"See you again, I know. I want to see you again, what don't you get?"
Peter is silent for a long while, because if he's honest, he doesn't know what to say to that. Tony of all people wanted to see him? He had assumed the sudden meetings were all obligation after the vulture.
"I should've just jumped," he whispers, to no one but himself. But the room had been completely silent. Tony's reassuring hand had stopped, leaving the older man frozen in place. Eventually, he pulls away slowly.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Peter mumbles. "I didn't- I'm sorry."
"I know, you keep saying that. You can give me twenty more but I'm not letting this go until you tell me what the money was for."
Peter's hands wring themselves together until he's barely able to utter, "I was going to run away."
Tony blinks. Once, twice, thrice. "You- You're serious?"
"You wanted an explanation," Peter snaps, and then softens. "I'm sorry, fuck- I don't want to take from May. I'm sick of it. And I know it's messed up to take from you instead, but you've got so much money I didn't think it would matter. It's still wrong and I'm sorry-"
"Why in the hell do you want to run away? Is May hurting you?"
"What? Oh my god, no!" Peter protests. "I know it's stupid. May is great to me so I shouldn't want to run away and I'm just being selfish and-"
"Hey, no, slow down. That wasn't what I was saying. You're not selfish, you're just.. going through a lot, right? Can you tell me why you wanted to run away?"
Peter's throat closes up. He swallows, once, twice, before he's able to speak. "I'm really tired," he starts off, "Fuck. I'm always so tired. And, it's like- I can't run from it. I've tried writing, playing guitar, hell, I tried school, a couple times I got drunk and it worked more than I'd like it to but I never let it get.. too bad." He's lying, and Tony can probably tell, but his substance abuse issues can be a conversation for another time, when he isn't on the verge of breaking down again.
"I'm fucking, sad, or not, I don't know. I don't know what's going on or why I feel like absolute shit but maybe if I run away things can get better. I know it's stupid but maybe-" He sniffles away a sob. His eyes sting too much to let out and more tears, which he's honestly grateful for. He's sure if he had the confidence to look up at Tony, he'd find tear and snot stains on the mans shirt.
"Hey, Pete? I need you to hear me out, okay? And, I might just be stupid in assuming you didn't already know this, but, have you ever considered that you've got depression?"
Peter freezes. He has, of course he has. It's in his face everyday and has been for longer than he'd ever admit. But he tries to keep up the idea that everything is fine if just to convince himself. "I- I mean I guess, but, I can't- It's not like it's bad, and I'll be fine. I'm sorry for trying to take your money but it won't happen again, and I'll-"
"The money issue is the last of my worries right now, Peter. I might be cautious, but you're struggling and I won't punish you for that. Can you be honest with me right now?" Tony leans forward, all seriousness, and stares at Peter. The teenager nods, hesitantly, because Tony Stark is never this serious. "If I were to take you home, to your apartment, and you were alone, would you be safe?"
Oh. Oh. Fuck.
"I don't know. I-I mean, yeah, yeah, I would be."
"Is that a yes? I need a yes or no. No 'maybe's."
Peter clears his throat, but it doesn't help the way his voice wavers. "I don't know."
"Do you.. are you having thoughts of hurting yourself?" Tony's whole body is beginning to tense, and he slowly sits up to get a better overview of Peter.
Tears fill his eyes. He can lie, and Tony might go along with it, but neither are going to believe it. "I was going to.. to jump off the Queensboro bridge. I had money to give back to May, for all the things she's had to do. And I had notes for her, and Ned, and you-"
Peter has never seen Tony Stark cry. He doesn't think most of the world has. Maybe Pepper, and Rhodey, and maybe a few of the Avengers. But you can smell the toxic masculinity and need to repress his emotions from his pores.
And yet, there the man is, crying in front of Peter Parker himself.
"Christ, kid," The man sputters with a pathetic laugh. "I- I'm so fucking glad, that you didn't. Next time, next time you call me, right away, okay? Or Happy. Hell, you know Sam Wilson? I'll send you his number, he's great at this stuff. Ned or MJ or May or- Do you realize how many people need you?"
Peter stays silent. He knows, he has realized, awhile ago. "After awhile it's just harder to care."
Tony inhales and wipes his tears away with his sleeve. The next thing he knows Peter is pulled into a hug so tight he doesn't think he'll make it out alive. He does, in the end. Tony has to excuse himself and five minutes later, when he's back, he looks like he always does; a cocky grin and no sign of negative emotion there.
"Alright, Underoos, here's the rundown. I'm calling May, and- Nope, this is final, I see that face- we're gonna sit down, have a nice long talk, and work things out. Might add in some hot chocolate, pop corn, maybe a movie if the feelings talk gets too old. Capisce?"
Peter has no option but to agree.
~_~_~_~
Peter starts to consider that Tony's "No emotion" rule was a good one. Talking about your pent up emotions is not what it's cracked up to be. The whole "Weight off your chest" is only so true. If anything, he feels heavier.
May barely keeps it together, but she gets through it. She nods, and speaks when she can, and agrees that it's best if Peter starts seeing someone. He doesn't have much of a say in it. They all know he's hesitant, but it's better than a psych ward or Tony locking him up in the tower until he's "not a danger to himself." (Neither of which were threatened, but, with Tony's track record of overprotectiveness..)
By the end of it, they start a movie and Peter falls asleep not a third of the way in, exhausted from crying and letting out all the heavy baggage he had intended on keeping shut. He had planned to be on a bus to Baltimore by then, but instead he was sleeping against the chest of Tony Stark.
You can't control most things, but the next morning, Peter chose to stay.