Marvel Imagines

YDB High school kids - Peter B. Parker (S:ITSV) (PRT 2)

Mentions of:
•Depression
•Anxiety
•Torture
•Nightmares
•Things related to what's listed above
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's been two months since Peter has been living with you. He's lost his pot belly, and he's been eating pretty healthy. You've taught him some healthy coping mechanisms you learned since high school. You'd see him flying through the streets of Queens in his suit, which has been in much better condition since you've been washing it daily. He walked in the door, taking off his mask and throwing it in the laundry bin. It was pouring outside, so he was probably soaking wet.

"I wanna try something." He said. He sticks his web fluid to the ceiling, turning himself upside down. "Yes! The ceiling is strong enough!"

You smiled, holding a plate of food and setting it on the coffee table. "Food's ready when you are."

"You really are the best, [name]." He said, taking a fork and eating. "This is good, what is it?"

"Leftover dinner from the steakhouse." You said. "Someone's gotta eat it."

He laughed. The sound in the room died off as you both ate. He got down from the ceiling and sat criss-cross on the floor. He gulped, speaking.

"I keep staring at that photo of you in high school." He says. "The one in your room."

"Snooping in my shit, have we?" You ask, trying to joke around.

"You never told me." He said. "Why you were so depressed."

You freeze, dropping the fork on your plate. You sip some water, your mouth dry even with the liquid in your mouth. "What do you mean?"

"You were so unhappy in those years." He said. "Freshman year was the only year I saw you happy. From then on, you practically never smiled. Never laughed. You developed bags under your eyes. You stopped..you stopped trying."

You stare at him, and he looks down in shame. "It really scared me."

"Parker.." You said. "The thing is, I'm ok now. You don't have to worry-"

"But I do." He said, turning to you. "Remember junior year?"

"Clearly."

"Do you remember May 16th of that year?"

"No, not really."

"You almost got killed, [name]." He said. "The guy pressed a gun against your head. You didn't even flinch. You were like a rag doll. You didn't move unless he made you."

"Peter-"

"It scared me shitless." He said. He looked back down. "But it didn't even affect you. When.."

He paused for a second or two. The memory of the day ran through your head. "When he threaten to pull the triggered..you even smiled."

Your lip trembled. "Peter, there was this whole thing that I was going through-"

"Please." He said. "Tell me."

"Peter, I don't want you to worry."

"Please, [name]." He said. "I just..I want to know. So it doesn't happen again."

You sighed. You walked to him, sitting on the couch. He sits next to you, holding your hand protectively. "You can put it basically or you can go into detail, I don't care. As long as I know the story and can protect you."

You smiled. "When I went to Asgard that summer to visit my dad and the family, I saw someone I never saw before.."

You arrived in the lobby of Heimdall's dome, expecting to see him. See his smiling face and orange eyes. Expecting to exchange memories and chat before he escorted you to the palace of your father's home. He wasn't there. A man with a bald head, goatee, and tattoos spiraling in his head was there. He growled.

"You're coming with me." He said, taking you by the back of your neck. He dragged you all the way to the palace, dropping you at the floor before Odin's throne. Expecting to see your angry grandfather, you saw another person.

A woman.

She wasn't your grandmother, she died long ago. You stood. Antler horns rested on a helmet she wore, wearing a black and green suit. She looked a lot like uncle Loki, but she was a woman. You knew that Loki was a He.

"Who are you?" You asked, about to take out your sword, Sumarbrander; a gift from your grandmother, Frigga. She smiled cockily.

"[name] Odinson." She said, standing, walking towards you. "I am Hela, your father and Loki's older sister."

"You're my aunt?" You asked. "I'm starting to wonder if dad was the adopted one."

"Come. We must tell our people of the new ruler of Asgard." She said, walking past you.

"Who?"

"Me."

You gulp, trying not to remember her face. But you couldn't resist it. He terrified you to this day.

"She killed the entire army. One by one. Blood spilled. I never truly understood the meaning of bloodbath until she knocked me down when I resisted to kill the general."

"Dad!" You screamed.

"Let them go!"

"You see this world, Thor? It's crumbling at the edges without me."

"Give me my child back!"

You told the entire story. "After that, I stayed up at night thinking about that summer. I would look at my hands and see the blood of the army dripping off of me like it did that day." You said. "She tortured me. Abused me for not wanting to rule the kingdom with her. When I looked at my father, would see his face in pure agony as she ripped out his eye. When I saw Heimdall, I still saw his terrified face when he saw me chained to the top of the dome. When I saw Loki, I saw nothing but anger beyond imagine. I was traumatized, my anxiety increased, I was caught in a deep depression, my therapist thinks it's PTSD.

That's why I was so depressed. I could've save that army by killing her with the ax instead of dropping it. I wanted the release of death so I could apologize to all who died at her hands; whether I knew them or not."

By then, Peter had wrapped his arms around you, still holding your hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. That was long ago, there's nothing wrong-"

"I saw you in the bathroom." He said abruptly.

"What?"

"I saw you in the bathroom...a bottle of pills in your hand..you take antidepressants?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

"It's ok." He shakes a small pill bottle. "I do too."

You smile weakly, like you did in that one photo. "I'm sorry for telling you all that."

"No, no! You didn't do anything wrong!" He said. "Trust me, I'm glad you told me. I know more about you. I can help you."

That night, you couldn't sleep. It was like this every night, but usually it wasn't as bad. No one can save you now, weakling. Her words echoed through your head. Not even your puny father.

You tossed and turned, looking outside the window. You sat up, tears flowing down your face for no reason. You get up, walking to the fridge and looking for something to drink. You grab a bottle of lemonade, closing the refrigerator door to become face to face with Peter.

"Do you sleep in your Spider-Man suit or something?" You ask.

"Why are you awake, it's three AM." He said, his arms crossed.

"I couldn't sleep." You said.

"Nightmares?" You nod. "You want to come sleep with me?"

"Maybe." You said. "My bed's comfier than yours, come into my room."

"What do you mean, your beds comfier than yours?" He said, offended. You laugh. He jumped onto the bed, snuggling you when you laid down. "Tell me if I need to leave, okay?"

"I don't think I want you to." You said, hugging him. "Goodnight, Peter."

"G'night, [name]."