Chapter Text
"Helloooo!? Hellooooooo!? Please, I'm down here, yeah I'm down here! I'm stuck! I'm stuck, I can't move!"
Peter
"If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it."
Peter!
"C'mon Peter, come on Spider-man, come on Spider-man. Come on Spider-man, come on Spider-man! Aaaaaahhhh!"
"Peter!"
Peter woke up with a start. Tony was standing over him, concerned look in his eyes.
"Are you alright kid? Pep and I heard you screaming all the way from our room." He said with a sympathetic expression on his face. "You have another nightmare?"
Peter just nodded. The older man moved closer to wipe away the tears on Peter's cheeks. When did he even start crying? He doesn't remember. Peter loved it when Tony did that. He can feel his warm hands against his cheek, it makes him feel safe, and loved. It was exactly what he needed, but right now it wasn't enough.
Right now he needed more, he needed his blade. He needed to feel the sting, that rush that makes him forget about all of his problems. The feeling of little rivers of blood sliding down his arms and legs. He shouldn't even be thinking about this. "Keep yourself occupied", is what his therapist told him. "Let someone in, tell them about what's going on"
He couldn't do that. Not to Ned, not to Pepper and especially not to Tony. It would break him. Hiding the fresh wounds and scars had not been easy. He needs to be wearing sweaters or long sleeved shirts at all times, never change in front of anyone. Scratch that, never change in front of loved ones. He couldn't care less about what other people thought of him. He is broken, and everyone who pays even a little attention knows this. He got pulled from his thoughts by Tony's warm voice.
"Pete, bud, you hear me?"
He shook his head. "No sorry, I kinda zoned out."
Tony put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I asked you if you wanted me to stay for a bit, until you fall asleep again."
Usually Peter would say yes. But right now he couldn't. He needed to cut, to be able to breathe again.
"No, you should sleep. You have that big meeting in the morning. I'll be fine on my own."
Tony looked a bit sceptical, but chose to believe him. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I'm sure, promise". Peter knew he was anything but okay right now. He needed to make this feeling stop. And there was only one way to do that.
"Alright then, sleep well bambino" he placed a kiss on the top of his head and walked out of the room.
Peter focussed his enhanced hearing to make sure the coast was clear. As soon as he heard Tony crawl back in bed he got up and made his way to the ensuite, where he kept one of his razor blades, hidden behind the mirror.
He sat down against the bathtub, blade in his hand. The voices in his head were screaming. Voices of the people he couldn't save. But also his own voice. Telling him he's not good enough. That no one likes him. That they just pretend to, because they feel bad.
He makes the first cut, just above his wrist. It's shallow and it doesn't sting too bad. "Dammit Parker, can't even do this right", he thought to himself.
He made a second cut, a little higher up his arm. This one was deeper and blood started to bubble up immediately. The voices started to quiet down, finally.
"One more", he tells himself. He just wants to be able to sleep without the dreams. He's exhausted all the time. Falling asleep in class. His grades are slipping and his teachers are starting to notice something is wrong. Last week Mr. Harrington pulled him aside to ask about how things were at home. He told him everything was fine.
He made the final cut. Straight down his arm so it crossed the previous cuts, which hurt even more. The voices were gone, but this euphoric feeling never lasted long. He had to clean up this mess and dress the wounds.
He looked down. Blood was still dripping on the white bathroom tile. He grabbed a piece of paper and pressed it hard against the cuts, savoring the stinging feeling. He bandaged his arm and cleaned the floor. Made it look as if nothing happened. Then he went back to bed and fell into a fitful sleep.