Kid?

Prologue: Once Again

Note: Okay in this AU Peter is living with Tony, I really can't be bothered to come up with a reason why??? So maybe I'll give a reason why later or maybe not. Also this takes place after Endgame but everyone is alive because I don't want to except the deaths (although it's just Peter in this chapter)

TW: Self Harm

Peter sat up in his bed and gasped for air, he felt his heart pounding in his chest and he was covered in a layer of sweat. He tried counting his breaths, in for 5 out for 5. It didn't help. After weeks of these nightmares, it still never helped. He sat there crying in his dark room at the avengers tower and wondered how his life ended up like this.

His nightmare was still running through his head, it replayed in his mind like it had been etched onto the inside of his eyelids. It began with him sprinting, he was trying to escape from something but he didn't know what. His Spidey-sense was in overdrive and he could feel the thing catching up to him. That's when it changed, and it kept changing. He snuck onto the ship. He was in the terrifying abyss of space. Thanos. Dusting. Then it just became a running list of his greatest failures. It went to May lying in her hospital bed right before her death and then ended with uncle Ben.

That's when his body had bolted him upright.
He was still crying, he still couldn't stop, his breathing was calming but it still hadn't evened out. Peter groaned like he was in pain and decided he didn't care anymore.

Peter decided that he didn't care that he had kept himself from doing it for so long .He knew he could keep it a secret, he was sure of it, some of his old scars were still visible and no one had ever pointed them out. He was good at hiding them, well practiced.

He stood up and immediately felt light headed, he almost fell as he rushed out into the corridor and into the communal bathroom. He desperately searched through the drawers hoping he would find what he was looking for. Surely some staff member would have placed some there at some point for the heroes who passed through. He flung open his third drawer and hit the jackpot, a box of blades, easily available to add to the single use razors for anyone who needed a shave. At least that was their intended use. Before scrambling back to his room Peter haphazardly shut the drawers back up so no one would notice the disturbance he had made.

Gently he sat down on his double bed. He stared hard at the three blades he had placed on his duvet. He had pretty much recovered from his nightmare, but something in him had snapped and now that he had decided he would cut the urge just wouldn't back down. And he was so tired of ignoring it. So peter stashed two blades in his bedside table. He picked up the third and pushed it into his skin. Then he quickly dragged it across his thigh. Watching as the first beads of blood formed he let out a shuddering breath, he felt ashamed of himself for giving in after years of keeping it together. Once again being so weak as to give in to the temptation. However even stronger was the feeling of calm that washed over him and the distraction of his physical pain, feelings he didn't know how to replicate in any other way. That was why self harm was so easy to get addicted to, so hard to get clean from, and so easy to relapse in.

Another note: I in no way want to glamorise self harm and I'm definitely not trying to make it come across that way. It's not a fun thing to go through and it's not easy to get past.
Published:31.05.19