irondad & spiderson oneshots

xvii. breaking down (1)

TW: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS. the next part of this small series needs this trigger warning too

Peter sighs as he scrolls through all his unanswered texts to Happy. Of course the man didn't care. Why would he? Peter was nothing special. He tucks his phone away and slips his mask back on.

"Peter may I suggest calling Mr. Stark? You are extremely malnourished sleep deprived." Karen says immediately. Peter rolls his eyes. "Just shut it Karen! Don't call Mr. Stark! Never call Mr. Stark!" He snaps.

He feels slightly bad for snapping at the AI for doing what she was programmed to do, but it wasn't like Mr. Stark would answer anyway. If Happy wouldn't even respond to his texts why would Iron Man respond to his calls?

He'd only seen Mr. Stark twice since Leipzig and it was when he dropped his suit off for repairs. And then came back to get it. That was it. That was the two times.

And each time he plastered on a fake smile and rambled endlessly to Happy to try to distract himself from his dangerous and spiraling thoughts. But Happy raised the riser in the car to silence him.

Peter had dropped his fake smile and looked out the window, letting his thoughts take control. He normally tried to distract himself from the thoughts but lately it was the only thing ever on his mind.

"Of course, Peter." Karen responds. Peter scans the street below him, not spotting anything suspicious. "Any crime for me Karen?" He asks. "No Peter. I suggest that you please go home and rest." She says.

Peter sighs. "I don't need rest. I need a crime to stop." He says exasperatedly. "Of course Peter. There appears to be a mugging going on two blocks away." She says after a moment.

"Thank you." He mumbles sarcastically, standing up and swinging across the streets. His vision blacks out for a second and his grip losses on the webs and he has one thought -what if I let go?- but he quickly snaps out of his stupor and keeps going.

He tightens his grip and finally lands down in the alley. His knees nearly give out but he doesn't show it. "Your mom ever teach you that it isn't nice to aim guns at ladies?" He quips with fake enthusiasm.

The masked man immediately spins, aiming his gun at the teen. "Bug boy!" He cries out. Peter doesn't have it in him to argue. His hand shoots out to web the gun out of the way but it fires just as it flies from his hand.

The man looks shocked and tries to run but Peter webs him up next. He turns to the shaken woman. "Call the police, Okay?" He asks. She nods, tears in her eyes. He swings himself a few blocks away and onto a roof, a searing pain enveloping him.

He whimpers in pain, putting a hand to his sore side. He finally looks down and it suddenly makes sense as to why it hurts. A bullet wound would do that to you. "Peter you should call Mr. Stark. With how unhealthy you are, you probably won't survive a gunshot wound like this. You need to seek immediate medical attention." Karen says urgently.

And Peter stops to think, would that really be so bad? And the answer sends a chill down his spine. It wouldn't. He could finally sleep. Sleep forever and not open his eyes again.

"I... don't call him." He says softly. Karen lets out a sad, agitated noise. "Understood Peter." She says. He frowns pulling the mask off shakily. He pulls out his phone, deciding to send one last text to May to say goodbye.

His vision blurs with tears as he types - i'm Sorry. I can't do this anymore. Goodbye. - he hits send without a second thought but as tears drip from his eyes he realizes he sent it to the wrong person.

Happy. Oh well. He sniffles and walks to the edge of the roof, taking note of the blood that spills from his side and splatters on the roof beneath him. It hurt so bad. It would be easier if he just jumped.

If he jumped it would be quick and painless. He bets nobody would even notice if-when he died. He drops the phone on the ground next to him, ignoring how it starts ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

He sniffles, wiping his face and looking down at the silent and still street below him. He feels something smear across his face and realizes it's probably blood. But he doesn't care.

He takes one more step and he's suddenly free falling. He closes his eyes, feeling at peace knowing he was seconds from the end. Just when he thinks it's almost over, he feels familiar metal arms wrapping around him and then he's not falling anymore.