Marvel One-Shots [NO REQUESTS]

LET ME FALL [TRIGGER WARNING]

WARNING:

THERE ARE SUICIDAL THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER, DO NOT READ ON IF IT IS TRIGGERING OR UPSETS YOU.

Peter looked around at his friends; Michelle was smiling at Ned's dumb joke and Betty was resting her head on her boyfriends arm. He didn't say anything, just forced a smile and continued to pretend to eat his lunch. He didn't feel like he could stomach it, he felt sick. Not because he was ill, some part of him was sick at what he planned to do later that day.

When the final bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, Peter started to walk out of school. He never got to the front gate, Michelle pulling him into an abandoned classroom to talk to him.

"Peter? Are you okay, you've been acting a bit off lately." She asked, just about covering the waver in her voice, and searched Peter's eyes for something.

"I'm fine MJ, I've just been tired from studying so much," He lied as he had many times before, immediately using the same excuse for when people asked if he was okay "I promise, I'll be fine once I catch up on sleep." Another lie and a promise he knew he was never going to be able to keep.

Reluctantly, Michelle let it go. Before leaving, she unexpectedly hugged Peter tight and walked out, mumbling a "See you tomorrow" as she left. Peter felt guilty. He'd tried to talk to them more that day, be the kindest he could to leave some good memories for his friends. There was, in his mind, no avoiding what he had planned.

Aunt May was staying at a friends for the week, leaving him some money for food and a bit extra just in case. Peter hadn't touched the dollar bills or any of the food in the apartment, not wanting to waste it.

The prewritten note was placed by the money in a place where May would see it easily. Hs Spider-Man suit was folded neatly in the bag Mr Stark had left it in for him, a separate note for him in with it, and the badge Peter had been gifted to be allowed into the Compound. 

He wouldn't need it anymore.

His room had been tidied, packing his belongings away into labelled boxes and draws. It would be easier when they had to sort through his things. On his desk were half a dozen letters, sealed in envelopes and the names for the recipients scrawled onto the front. Hopefully they'd get them, there was so much he had to tell his friends but couldn't bare to do it to their faces.

The bag he took to school was discarded by his bed, the textbooks from that day still inside and his barely-touched lunch pushed to the bottom. Peter didn't bother changing his clothes to less formal ones, he couldn't care less.

Peter opened the medicine cabinet that was always fully stocked. He took a few pills of painkillers, almost enough to overdose but definitely enough for what he was about to do next be much more bearable.

He didn't leave his house key behind, making sure to lock the apartment door behind him and started to walk towards the building he had found a few weeks ago. It was abandoned but rarely monitored by security. There was an unhinged door near the back that he could sneak into and make his way to the roof.

Peter started what he had planned, climbing up the dusty stairs to the floor he knew held the next set of stairs to the roof. He went slowly, knowing that no one was going to be searching for him, they were all far too busy with their own lives.

He finally reached the top. The view stretched out across all of Queen's, the large buildings making Peter feel smaller than ever before. The streets below him were alive, people passing by to their jobs or to pick up their children. They all looked like ants from the roof, bustling about to wherever they needed to be.

Moving away from the edge, Peter walked to the other end of the room. From there he could see a deserted patch of land that most likely was owned by whoever created the building. It would take longer to be found there, but the note he'd left would explain exactly where he was.

Time slowed down as he stepped forward into the air, his arms stretching out. He let his body fall forward, plummeting head first to his demise. He expected to fall, to finally let the constant voices in his head shut up, not for a pair of metals arms to grab him and take him to safety.

Before he could even see who had saved him or realise that they were talking to him, the lack of food and sleep took its toll. Then there were the drugs he had taken, they certainly weren't helping in the slightest. Peter fell limp, blacking out, and only worried Tony more.

"Come on kid, stay with me." He pleaded to him, knowing that his words were falling on deaf ears. Tony didn't care, ayway, they were intended to comfort himself more than Peter.

Upon landing at the Compound, he stormed into the medical wing and ordered those working there to help his kid. The expertly trained doctors and nurses got to work the moment Stark stepped in, preparing a hospital bed and all equipment that may be needed.

Tony stood in the doorway, unable to move in fear, and watched at Peter was taken away. He had woken up before they took him, whispering hoarsely a few words before slipping back into unconsciousness.

"Why didn't you let me fall?"

A/N

[PUBLISHED 08/07/2019]

[EDITED 18/07/2019]

Fixed a few typos while working on part two as a request, using this as a reference

That was darker than I originally intended.

Still on short holiday so this note is being typed on my phone, sorry.

The WiFi here is really slow so if you comment, I may not see it at first.

Bye!