.marvel character and actor parent preferences.

Can You Hear Me Screaming, Please Don't Leave Me; S.Stan

Warnings; SUICIDE ATTEMPT, angst, depression, swearing, mentions of hospitals, past child abuse? Depression.

Word Count; 2.5k

Parts of this are based on what I myself experienced in the psych ward. Also, please listen to the warnings, it's a sad one.

--

The sound of your record player faded away. You didn't have the energy to put the record back in its sleeve, you didn't even have the energy to do much anymore. Everything just felt so hard, your dad was gone more often than he usually was, so you felt alone. Sure, your grandma came and checked on you every few days to make sure you were okay, but that was it. Most people in your school only wanted to use you, so you didn't have many friends. It just added to the loneliness you were feeling. You were diagnosed with depression when you were 15, you were now 17. Most times, you could handle it, you could keep going with your life and it wouldn't affect you much. But you're stuck in possibly the worst depressive episode that you've been in, and going through it alone doesn't make the situation any better. You would try and talk to people, but the voice in the back of your mind would scream at you that you were nothing but a burden to the people you were talking to. At some point, everything just had begun to feel pointless, the things you did didn't matter to most people, so why should they matter to you. Your phone pinged, shooting you out of your trance-like state.

Dad; Open the door, it's cold out here.

A smile made its way onto your face. He was home! You shot up from your bed and went to the front door, opening it to reveal your dad standing in front of it. You wrapped your arms around him.

"Woah, someone missed me," He commented. You nodded and let him go, thinking he was uncomfortable. "Well, how was it being alone for the first time in forever?" He asked. 

Horrible, I barely managed to get to school on time most days.

"Good! It was more peaceful without you here," You lied. As much as you would hate to admit it, you liked the amount of noise your dad would make around the house, it made you feel safe. You had moved back into the apartment and sat on the couch.

"So you wouldn't be mad if I told you I'm only here for three days?" He asked rhetorically. Your heart shattered,  surely it must be you. Why would he keep leaving like that, was there something wrong with you? But you kept up your act.

"No, not really. 3 days is better than none, right?" You tried to mask the sadness in your voice, but it unintentionally slipped out. Sebastian sighed looked at you, a sorry look on his face.

"It's just some re-shoots, alright? I won't be gone for any more than a week, okay? I promise that after that, I'm all yours," He said. You smiled and nodded. You knew he had good intentions, but it was an empty promise. It wasn't your dad's fault, he tried his hardest, but he didn't exactly have a normal 9 to 5 lifestyle that meant he could just call up and say he was sick. It wasn't the lifestyle he wanted to raise you in, he tried to keep you out of the public eye as much as possible, which made you think that he was ashamed of you. He never even expected you in the first place, so why would he want to show you off, you were just the product of a careless one night stand. "Okay, go finish whatever you were doing, then come back out okay? I wanna talk to you,"  You nodded and stood up. "I love you, alright?"

"I know, I love you too," 

--

You sat on the countertop of your sink in the bathroom that was conjoined to your room. You sniffled and rubbed your nose with the sleeve of your hoodie that Chris Evans had bought you for your birthday. The little orange tub in front of you was screaming out your name, telling you to take all of the pills and not wake up. If you did, you would stop bringing your dad down, he would be happy that he didn't have to worry about you anymore. No one would have to worry about you anymore. You took the bottle and counted out 8 pills, looking at them down in your hands. You swallowed them dry and then coughed as they nearly got stuck in your throat, you went to your bed and laid down, but not before changing the record on your turntable to (Y/F/A). You couldn't cry anymore, you felt numb to everything. Sebastian sat in the living room and called Chris, who was in New York for filming too.