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- Peter Parker Pov -

My skin is crawling, itching and stinging. But the more I scratch, the more I tear my nails through my skin the more raw and red my arm becomes. That's obvious, is it not?
Think of it like this, when you dig your hands into the sand at the beach; you do it for a sense of relaxation. To feel the hot sand seep through your fingers, it's a wonderful feeling. But then again, that same sand irritates you're skin, rubbing at it; lusting for you to wash it of, to free that feeling. And how do you do that?
You scratch, you cut, you do whatever you can to free that feeling.

Or, sand wise, you can take a shower.

I felt the hot water trail down my body, steam covering the mirrors in the bathroom with a wet residue of the heat.
But when I step out, I can still feel the cold. As the heat of the concealed shower fades away. And I'm just left dripping on a fluffy mat, wondering what the purpose of this really is.

I mean come on, what am I doing?!

Life is pointless. My life, is pointless. Yet I carry on anyways, even though it would be my decision not to.

I eye the razor sitting lifeless on my shower shelf. I am not going to empty my wrists and kill myself, not now. Anyways. But that burning feeling still hits, the itching and the uncontrollable and unconscious feeling of wanting to free my own blood.
I pick up the metal blade,

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...
That's enough. I bend down and open up the the bathroom cabinet, soaking a cloth and cleaning the cuts. It stings, and a disturbed part of me loved the feeling. I grab some plasters and close the cabinets doors. Messily concealing the cuts. It wasn't enough, but it's all I had.

I dress myself in grey joggers and a classic white ling sleeved tee-shirt, and sit in the edge of the single bed. Elbows resting on my knees, chin on my hands.

And I wait. Because I know, soon enough. Tony will want the talk.

-Third person pov-

Tony knocked on Peters door twice lightly, Natasha and Bruce both standing behind him. They thought the pressure of all three of them hoarding Peters room would be too much. So while Tony made his way inside, Natasha and Bruce stayed concealed by the door.

"Pete, Friday informed me of blood loss. You want to talk about it?"-Peter hid his hand behind his back slowly and out of view from Tony, before slashing one of his fingernails against his finger. Creating a small, and long gash-"Natasha and Bruce are behind the door. We can go get you looked at easily now... or we can wait a bit. Either way, we all need to sit down and chat. Before or after." Tony sat down next to Peter on his bed, looking towards his turned head.

"Mr Stark I'm not suicidal. I slipped." He lied through his teeth, before turning around and holding up his finger. "Paper cut."

"Peter if you slipped, why would you admit to stepping off when we were on the roof?" Tony asked, still eyeing the small amounts of blood that spotted through Peters white shirt, that Peter himself had yet to notice was happening.

"I didn't." Peter acknowledged, finally looking to where Tony's eyes led and then looking him straight in the eye. "It bled a lot, used my sleeve to wipe it." Peter looked away.

"You said school has been getting you down, do you want to talk about that?" Tony pressured.

Peter faked a sad laugh,
"God, no Tony." Tony was taken aback by the sudden use of his first name, Peter never addressed him by his first name. "Nothing is wrong, I am fine! -" Peter faked a smile. "- see! I don't know why you brought me here, I was just having a bad day. That is all." He sighed, getting up from his seat on the bed and walking towards the closed door.

"A bad enough day for you to kill yourself?" Tony almost laughed, Peter actually did laugh- a really obnoxious, aggravated; fake laugh.

"Bad enough to kill myself." He chuckled. Opening the door and walking straight past Natasha and Bruce, "I feel like pancakes! Who wants pancakes?" Peter beamed, dancing across the large open space in the compound.

"Kid, it's 3am." Bruce sighed, walking towards Peter with Natasha close behind. "Peter can you come here?" Bruce asked.

"No!" Peter still faked a smile. "No I don't think I will! I feel like dancing. Because I am just a super happy person!" Peter slid across the slippery compound floor in his socks, before his stomach bashed into the kitchen bar. "Oops! Haha, oh well!"
"Kid..." Tony wailed, wishing for Peter to stop, to tell him it's okay to be sad.
But Peter just scrambled on top of the bar table tops and stood, looking at the three people staring straight back at him with worry.

"Peter, what's going on with you. We know that you're going through something. Tell us!" Natasha strained, crossing her arms and sticking out her hip in a stanced pose.

"Can people stop asking me to tell you shit? I am fine!" He shouted, shocking everyone.

"Peter you're not fine!" Tony shouted back, even louder. "You have to tell us whats going on with you, or we can't help!" He yelled, forcing Peter down from the bar top, pushing him through the corridor back into his room and back onto the bed.

"Then send me back Mr Stark, because you never listen when I tell you. You keep asking 'what's wrong! Oh Peter what's wrong!' But you ask me that when you can physically see I'm sad. You know what, it doesn't matter. Stop worrying Mr Stark, I'm fine. I called May as soon as I got in your car, she's here now. And I'm leaving. I'll drop the suit off when I can." Peter stood back up and exited the building, waiting for Aunt May outside.

"I don't want the suit back kid, I want you happy." Tony yelled at Peter as he travelled down the staircase, throwing his arms up for the kid and incasing him in a hug. "We're there now kid. And I will always be only a call away. But, Peter I called the hospital. I want you to go in, if you don't feel comfortable with Banner..." Tony sighed. "At least go see a normal doctor." He let go of Peter and handed him a postit note, the address and name of the hospital spelled out. It wasn't Tony's writing though, it was Nat's.

"Okay..." He mumbled, throwing the suit that was in his bag on the floor of the tour. "But I'm not worthy of this, I'm sorry."

When May arrived, Peter didn't even wave goodbye. He just got in, and told May to drive away.

And she did.

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2 Chapters left ya'll :D
Hope you're enjoying it so far!!

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