how to be a Gen Z, by Peter Parker

How to push through- get help from your family

Warnings: self harm, self doubt

Ships: *sighs* spiderfrost and Ironstrange. 

I stared down at the razor I was holding in my hands. I had thought about it for months, but Loki always stopped me. The idea was, that I already had so many scars, what's a few more? The first month after aunt May died, the voice was the loudest. Nagging me, telling me to. I managed to block it out, knowing that I was loved. I was dealing with the pain, and then Loki left, he left me. He said he would be back soon, but it's been weeks. Nearly a month and a half. What if he never returned to me? I sat on the floor of the bathroom, staring into space, debating on if I should. The voice spoke up,

"no one would notice. They haven't noticed anything else. They haven't noticed your" pain.

I tiredly glanced down at my body, riddled with scars, old and new. I knew I shouldn't, I knew it was bad, I knew this was not the solution. However I had turned cold, it seemed as all the warmth had left me, leaving me empty. Empty smiles, empty laughs, empty truths, 'I am fine!' 'never better!' 'do not worry about me!'. I rolled the draw out to reveal the little razor blades, so tiny, just little pieces of printed metal, produced in mass production.

I sat down on the cold tiles, fingers tracing over the delicate and thin metal. Rolling up my sleeves I looked down. 'You know know one cares' the little manipulative voice whispered in my ear. 'They all hate you, you are a burden, they pretend' it whispered, voice growing stronger this time. I raised the blade to my arm and pressed down, watching with a sick fascination as blood seemed to bubble out. I slashed across my arm, a stream of blood poetically flowed out of my scarred arm. A tickle of pain, but nothing. Annoyed, I slashed again and again as if my arm was a canvas waiting to be painted on by an artist's delicate brush. Nothing again, I suppose when you experience enough pain in life, nothing hurts. Physical, a fucking warehouse, Emotional? My whole family, Aunt, Uncle, Dad, Mum.

I screamed in frustration, launching the razer across the room, effectively shattering the mirror. I got up and broke everything, rage flowed through my veins, fuelling my actions. I once again screamed as I ripped the posh sink from the beautiful marble and through it at the glass shower, shattering it. I punched the marble, the walls, everything. I broke, it is as simple as that. I screamed and cried, for the first time in months, I felt something. The crushing, immovable weight of depression. I sank to my knees and cried, cried and cried. I faintly heard the knock at the door, the knocking grew more and more frantic, voices joining it. At least 3 people were behind the door screaming at me to open it. I heard F.R.I.D.A.Y override one of the numerous protocols and the door flew off the hinges, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

Loki, Dad and Pops sprinted in, worry plastered across their faces. Loki ran in first and sprinted over to my trembling form and pulled me onto his lap, while sitting onto the floor. I buried my head into his neck, thanking whatever entity out there that he was back.

"Y-your back" I mumbled, still crying into his neck.

"Of course honey" I felt some foreign tears land on my head, while two more sets of arms warped around me and Loki. A voice full of raw and powerful emotion spoke up,

"Bambino, why didn't you tell us?" It was clearly the voice of my once mentor, and now dad, Tony. Someone, who I assumed was Dr Strange, my pops, pulled at my shredded arm, inspecting it.

"Oh Peter" I heard a voice crack, this voice belonged to pops, I was surprised. Pops never cried, this caused me to look up, still being cradled in the arms of my Loki. Stephen had silent streams of emotion trailing down his face, commonly known as tears.

"How long?" Tony asked from beside me, giving me a kiss on my forehead. He too had silent train tracks of tears running down his saddened face.

"It was always bad" I mumbled, once again shoving my face into Loki's neck, inhaling the scent of old books and mint. Loki just continued to tighten his hold on me, almost like he was scared that if he let go, I would simply disappear.

"Loki always stopped me, then he left and I tried, I tried so hard" Sobs started to rack my body at a more merciless pace.

"You promised you would be back soon, and you weren't! I knew you had stuff to do, however I thought you had left!"

I was crying harder now, my voice echoing across the destroyed bathroom. I could hear Loki muttering 'Sorries' into my hair

"The doubts started to creep in and I gave up! I know it is bad! I know it is wrong. However, I just wanted to feel something, anything! The more and more slashes and scars, it was never enough! The pain was only ever a prick. The one thing people don't tell you when you become a superhero is the amount of pain you go through. You eventually go through so much, that a little more makes no difference. Bullet wounds are pinpricks and stabs are scratches! Every inch of me is scarred and broken and this felt like the only way out. It all just broke when you left, I know I know I should have waited! It just got too much, too much." My wails travelled throughout the Avengers tower, like a lullaby of sadness. Touching the walls and tickling the ears for all to hear.

"Oh Peter, I never left you and I never will" Loki spoke in a watery tone, small sobs coursing through his tall frame.

"Honey, talk to us next time, we will always be here for you. We as well, will never leave you, you are our world. We can not imagine our lives without you" Stephen spoke, a small reassuring smile gracing his face.

"Lets clear this up, Loki take Peter to med bay and get him checked out, Stephen prepare some healing tea for Peter and make a nest of blankets and hot water bottles on the bed." Tony ordered softly to the surrounding people. At this command I found myself rather exhausted, holding Loki closer as he got up, still holding onto me and heading down to the medbay.

I barely even acknowledged the people outside of the door, all with equally concerned looks on their faces. Only a slow stream of tears remained after my breakdown, Loki still whispering 'sorries' and 'I love you' in my sensitive ears.

Little time skip -

I snuggled into my bed, arms bandaged, and my emotional state slightly more balanced than before. Loki had his long arms wrapped around me, with my parents on my other side, occasionally running their hands through my curly hair. A movie of some sort was playing on the TV and, overall, I felt safe and cared for.

From that day on it got better, not instantly though. I always had my bad days where emotion was not a concept in my over analyzing brain. Some days the razor was too tempting for my hands. Somedays the prospect of getting out of bed was an impossible mission only to be performed by knights in a kingdom far away. To be honest, most days are still a struggle, eating is a quest for me to complete, but each day, each week, each month it gets a tiny bit better. Loki was always here for cuddles to boost my mood. He was always happy to sit in bed with me and braid the long strands of my hair. He was always willing to cradle my broken state in meltdowns, always happy to force feed me food when the world seemed too cruel. He was always there, holding my hand when life got too tough and that is what matters. He is all that matters and I will forever be grateful for his charming smile, reassuring kisses, those hugs that could lift anyone's heart. I am, and will always be eternally grateful for the universe to grant me a boyfriend as great as him. He never complains, he never wines, never cuts short, he is always there. That is why I love Loki Friggerson, and I will never, ever forget him.