Peter is your average teenage boy... except he's not. Peter Parker knows all about secret identities. Not only is he Spider-Man, he's also a trans guy.
From bullies to bad guys, Peter Parker must get past obstacles like Flash, dysphoria, and hig...
*Trigger warning* picture containing graphic content (blood, hospital) ——————————————————————— Peter woke up to the sound of beeping in his ears. Groggily, he turned his head and saw that he had tubes attached to him.
Where am I? Wait... is this a hospital?
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The room was much more pleasant than a hospital, but the bed he was on and the equipment hooked up to him was definitely medical.
"You're awake," Bruce said. "You've been unconscious for a couple days. Concussion, major bruising, rib damage. Narrowly escaped lung damage when Tony caught you falling from a skyscraper. I know you're Spider-Man and swing around high places but... what happened?" Bruce gave him a sad look.
"I... fell." Peter lied, poorly.
Bruce stared at him over his glasses with a doubtful look. He gave a long, sad sigh. "Listen, Peter... you were bleeding out from your wrist. Self-induced bleeding, no less. Not to mention a lot of your bleeding was internal. Please, tell me what happened."
"I... I don't know," his voice cracked. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. How the hell did I survive that? I shouldn't have... and Mr. Stark caught me?
"It's okay. I know what it's like to not want to talk about it." Bruce paused. "Kid, let me tell you something." Another pause. "I... I've tried to end it all before, too. I know life is hard, but you need to talk to people about what's going on."
A lump formed in Peter's throat. Aren't you supposed to be the mad guy? Not the sad one? Why would you do that?
"How?" Peter asked.
"Just tell people what's going on."
"No I meant... how? How did you... try?" Peter asked, glancing away.
Bruce didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, he responded. "I uh... I shot a bullet into my mouth, and the Hulk spit it out."
Peter stared at him, not sure what to say.
"You'd be surprised how many of us Avengers have mental health problems," he said in a low tone, adding an empty chuckle. "I had hoped maybe you'd be the exception, with your age and chipper mood, but-."
"...sorry."
"Don't be. You'll get better."
"You don't even understand what's wrong," Peter mumbled, hugging his chest to his knees.
"Do you think you could tell me? I'm a doctor, and I have your best interest at heart."
Peter considered it. "Were you the one that patched me up?"
