Am I... The Villian? {~Book One~} {~2021-2022~}

Chapter Nineteen; {~A Boy With 'No' Rights To Being Scared~}

{~12/07/2021~}
{~Unedited~}
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Ever Enough
{~Book; One~}
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WARNING: ⚠️
{~This chapter contains, Panic Attack, mentions of abuse, self harm, child abuse, swear words, mentions of suicide, death, torture, Memories of the past if I missed any please tell me~}

{~Previously On~}

Third Person Pov~
Lastly was Bucky, the man didn't introduce himself right away, and he seemed hesitant to give the boy his hand. He too noticed the boys far off look, noticed how the boys eyes could never linger on one thing for long. The kid was blind, maybe not fully, but enough for his face and the others to have been unknown. Bruce told them to offer their hands as a way for the kid to be able to recognize people. A way for him to be able to know who's around him.

"I do-" Sam pushed Bucky's hand against the boy, and almost immediately the two froze up. Peter's hands were soft, though rough. They were the ones that belonged to a killer, Bucky's too. There was a shared familiarity in each other's grasp, something that neither of them seemed to have understood. The two stared between each other, staying in that position for awhile before Bucky was able to find the strength to introduce himself.

"B-Bucky Barnes." The man had announced, eyes somewhat wide. Bucky had felt these hands before, though he wasn't sure on who they were. A part of Bucky didn't like the touch, though another part of him refuged to let go, a protective manner washing over him. He didn't want to let this kid go, he didn't want the boy to leave his side.

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{~Present Time~}
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Third Person Pov~
Tony stared at the filled table before him, his breath hitching as his eyes landed on the boy not far from him. Peter's eyes were covered in bandages much to his dismay. The kids head hung low and his hand was grasped upon his bandaged up one almost in an annoyed like way. All Tony could do was stare helplessly at the boy he had once considered as his son.

Bruce was the first to respond to his sudden entrance, having shifted out of his spot across from the boy to stand himself next to his life long friend. Bruce hadn't yet told Tony of Peter's condition, never once mentioning his self destructive tendencies or his self mutilating habits. It wasn't entirely something you could easily say aloud then laugh it off like a stupid blooper from awhile ago.

This wasn't funny in any way, it was sick. Nothing more and nothing left. The boy had tried to mutilate his own arm with a shard of glass, got far enough along to cut through half a dozen nerves all while maintaining consciousness. The kid didn't have much, if any feeling in his hand, the nerves were barely functional. Temporary loss of sight was looming over the boy like a starving mosquito over its prey. It wasn't leaving any time soon and it was only leaving the kid with more pain and irritation then before.

Tony hadn't seen, spoken to or even touched the younger boy in months. No one way hugs, no draping an arm over his shoulder as the pair walked, and definitely no high-fives or fist bumps around the lab. In simple terms, Tony was more then terrified to see the kid once more. As last time he laid his eyes on him, he had killed a man gruesomely before trying to kill him. Those events had surprisingly put a real damper on their relationship.

Who would've ever guessed watching your believed to be son kill a man brutally then try to kill you, his so called father figure, would be considered as something that would drive people apart.