Save Me

|20|

Tony again didn't know what to do the only things he could think of were May and Peter's therapist. Both were something Peter said no to.

Though Tony ignored him and called them both.

He knew he couldn't trust that Peter was safe, or wouldn't do anything no matter how much he promised. Tony knew that was a promise Peter might not be able to keep.

And it would be his fault. Not Peter's.

And Tony would never be able to live with himself if that happened. He could live with how angry Peter was at him right now. For having to go back into hospital.

Because he knew he'd calm down. He'd understand why he had to do what he'd done.

Peter wouldn't let Tony see him. Mj visited him. Ned's mom too a few times. But that was it.

He spoke to May most days, he was angry at her too but she told him she'd come back if he didn't talk to her. So he did. It took a lot for Peter to make her come to that much of a compromise.

Which definitely surprised him. But he was glad.

Peter was told he'd been there for at least two weeks. Which he knew wasn't as bad as it could've been, but still he hated it.

Though he also knew they wouldn't let him leave if he kept not letting Tony in to see him. That didn't stop him saying no though.

His therapist had changed his medication, saw him most days and he was also visited by a grief therapist. Help him fully process Ned's death. Help him start begin to live again.

Peter wasn't sure if that was even possible.

He felt like his life was over. He wanted his life to be over. He lay on his bed, contemplating his life. Thinking about the last few months. Weeks. Days.

There was so much bad. So much darkness. So much that he regretted. He remembered when he had the gun in his hand, his mind begging him to put it to his head and pull the trigger.

Why didn't you just do it?

There was something in him that hated himself for not doing it.

He heard a knock before the door opened, it was a nurse. They came to check on everyone every half hour. Some people every fifteen minutes, Peter was one of them. He knew it was because of how much of a risk they thought he was.

Plus he'd only just started having any time alone at all so he didn't care too much.

Though instead of the nurse closing his door again and leaving him she began to walk towards him.

"Are you okay Peter?"

Fuck.

"I'm fine," Peter told her as he sat up. Though his voice breaking told her he was lying.

He began tracing over one of his scars he had across each wrist, his suicide attempt one's. He done that a lot, usually when he felt like doing it again.

"What are you thinking about Peter?"

"I wish I was dead," he said quietly as tears formed in his eyes.

"Why don't you come out to the main room? There's a few others playing a game," she asked with a soft voice. Like she'd heard that before. She wasn't shocked or surprised. She was calm.

"I guess."

He wiped his eyes as he stood up, the nurse gave him a smile as she waited for him to walk out the room first. Peter picked up his hoodie and put it on as he walked out the door. He left it unzipped and put his hands in his pockets.