Irondad and Spiderson One-shots (Discontinued)

Crybaby ~ Angst

Based on a Melanie Martinez song titled "Crybaby".

~TRIGGER WARNINGS~
-Blood
-Mentions of depressing thoughts
-Crying. Lots of it
-Rude Avengers
-Cursing

(Third person)

Peter sat on the top of the building, dangerously close to the edge.

He didn't intend on trying anything.

Even if he did, someone would inevitably catch him and scold him. Maybe even threaten him, scaring him to the point where he wouldn't come out of his room for days.

Every single word that they say is spat out like venom, each one worse than the ones before.

It rips his heart into a million microscopic pieces.

He can never explain his actions. They don't care. But he's cut off by them, or cut off by the tears welling up inside of him.

And he runs up to his room and cries.

He doesn't eat

He doesn't sleep.

He doesn't talk.

He only cries. Cries so much he looks like he has lost everything he had. Which is the sad truth.

His last blood relative. Dead. Aunt May is dead.

Him sitting on the edge of the building uses his nail to cut his skin on his arm, making small drawings and messages. It draws a bit of blood. But it doesn't hurt. He just smiles and welcomes the small pain.

His friends are also gone.

Ned's parents had to move. They couldn't afford their house for much longer, so Ned had to move schools and is now 3 hours away from Peter.

MJ... he doesn't know what happened to her. MJ just dissapeared from school one day and wasn't seen after that. MJ had been mad at him before though, so it didn't matter. She wasn't talking to him and Peter was fine with that. It was her decision. He can't force anything on anyone.

Nobody was there to comfort him.

They don't understand the pain or torture because he plasters a fake smile on his face and fakes a happy attitude every single day.

He cries himself to sleep and has nightmares every night, surrounding his head and swamping him with memories he wishes he could forget. He only usually gets 2 hours of sleep if he's lucky. He's scared to sleep.

He's acknowledged his bags under his eyes and how skinny he is in the mirror. He looks like he hasn't slept in  weeks.

(Peter's POV)

It's so hard.

I don't know if this is normal for a teenager. Usually everything turns out okay though, right? Right...

I'm doubting myself.

But what can I do anymore? I feel helpless. Lost.

Is this how it's going to end? Me in a silent abyss with nobody around.

And nobody's gonna care.

But no, I can't do that right now.

I feel like I'm in the clouds. I'm so high up. So high that people from this height look like tiny little ants. People laughing, having birthdays, celebrating important events like anniversaries. It's nice knowing that the world is going on while your stuck in a sort of hell where you're not cared for.

It hurts, though.

Every breath, every step, every living moment spent knowing that... you're a burden to people around you.

But you don't want to hear that. Nobody does.

I can hear them shouting my name to come down. They sound furious. But I just sit there and smile, cutting my arm with my nail, making small pictures as blood drips down my arm.

I realise that there's blood speckled around me and finally pull my sleeves over my cuts. They should go away in around 30 minutes. So I'm not scared.

I pull my hood over my head regardless. I get my web shooters and put them around my wrists.

I'm wearing my old suit. Tony got rid of my other one.

People inside are screaming my name. They sound like they're about to kill me.

But I'm scared of what they'll do. So I sit on the edge, smiling.

I'm almost about to fall. But even if I did, I'd catch myself.

Then someone comes on the roof.

"Peter... you are so dead." I hear Natasha's voice.

They all eventually come up here.

"Let's teach this twerp a lesson." I hear Tony say.

It hurts the most from him.

"It's not hard." I simply respond.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Tony asked, enraged. And they come to realize the blood at the sides of me. I can sense their looks of horror.

"It's not hard to let me go. You all wouldn't have to push me around if I wasn't here. So I've decided... maybe I should go. I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't want."

I hear complete silence.

I take a shaky breath and continue.

"You haven't realized my pain, have you?"

I'm getting angry. I can't deal with it anymore.

I get up and turn around.

"NONE OF THIS WOULD BE HAPPENING IF ANY OF YOU WOULD JUST LISTEN TO ME! I'M AFRAID OF ALL OF YOU! CAN'T YOU TELL?!? YOU ALL DON'T CARE, AND I'M SICK OF BEING YOUR RAGDOLL!"

I take a step back and start crying, tears running down my face. I see their regretful and shocked faces.

"Goodbye. Come find me if you ever need me."

I take another step and start falling down.

I enjoy falling for a few seconds.

I then swing away into an alleyway where I'm sure I won't be seen again.

Like I said. It's not hard.

I'm just a big, dumb crybaby.

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