Marvel's Avengers One shots

Save me: part 1

Peter's POV

I sit on the bottom bunk of my bed, flashbacks plaguing my mind. I never meant for Tony to be mad at me, I only wanted to help. I never imagined that the suit would be taken from me -forever. I just wanted to do something right for once, but nope. I fucked it up just like I do everything else.

Aunt May is working another late shift, which means I'm home alone for the night. Alone with my thoughts. I'm constantly being bombarded with nightmares and flashbacks, but nobody knows. They can't know anything.

It's been 3 months since the ferry incident. Happy has been ignoring my texts, while Mr. Stark ignores my phone calls. I've basically given up. I know that I'll never be Spider-Man again. Do I really want to though? The city has the Avengers, they don't need their "friendly neighborhood Spider-Man" anymore.

I look over at the nightstand, the clock reads 11:00 pm. I've been struggling for weeks, and everything has been piling up on me. Maybe that has something to do with not telling anyone... I don't know. Either way, my mind has traveled to some very dark places recently.

When I was in middle school, I tended to struggle. Apparently I was a perfect target for bullies. I never knew why and I still don't. I got to the point of being so stressed out I needed something to help. For me, that something was cutting. I stopped when I got bit by that spider though. The feeling of swinging from building to building and being able to help people, was more than I could have ever asked for. But when the suit got taken, the only thing that ever helped me also got taken. I don't blame Mr. Stark though, he never had any idea.

Recently I have taken up the old habit again. May doesn't know, Ned doesn't know, it would worry them too much and nobody needs that.

As I pulled off my sweatshirt, you could see the angry red lines that covered most of my left arm and some of my stomach. If you really looked close enough, you could also see many faded, white scars. I just stare at my reflection for a while, before finally making a decision. I'm not thinking that clearly, my brain is kinda hazy, but I still get up and open the door anyway. I make my way to the bathroom, but not before stopping by the kitchen to grab some kind of alcohol. At this point, I don't really care what it is, as long as it helps numb these feelings of worthlessness.

Sitting on the floor, I grab the bottle and take a long drink. It burns my throat but somehow it feels welcoming. I drink and I drink, feeling more relaxed and carefree with each gulp.

Eventually the bottle is empty, and I'm sitting with nothing else to do. I feel so god damn angry at Tony now. Why'd he do this to me? Was I not good enough for him? What's wrong with me? Something has to be wrong with me... With that in mind, I grab a razor blade from underneath the cabinet. I sit against the wall, looking down at myself. I'll never be enough.

A drag the razor over my arm, and watch the beads of blood form. I cut over and over again. One cut for fucking up, one for disappointing Tony, another for simply being me. My arm is covered in cuts, and some of them pretty deep. I guess I just wasn't aware of how deep I was going, thanks to the alcohol.

Tony. I suddenly have the urge to call him -one more time won't hurt, will it? I'm just gonna leave a voice mail -tell him I'm done, I've excepted the fact of never being Spider-Man again. I also want to thank him. He's helped more than he knows.

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Tony's POV

AC/DC is blasting through the lab speakers, while I try to focus on my latest project.

"Excuse me sir," Jarvis interrupted, "Mr. Parker is calling again. Shall I send it to voicemail?"

Damn Peter. He's been calling nonstop for the last couple months, trying to explain himself to me. I've heard enough though, and frankly I'm sick of it. I gave him a chance and he blew it. "Let it go to voicemail, and turn my music back on."

***