All Too Much

Chapter 2

Peter woke up to a knock at his door. He rolled over to check the time. 10:15. It was summer vacation so he never had to wake up early for things and usually slept in when he could. He was grateful he didn't have to go to school. That way he could spend his days hanging out with the team, training or more likely, sleeping. Sleep was like an escape to him. It didn't come easily but it always lasted long enough to avoid the day at least a little. He frowned thinking about having to get out of bed. Today already seemed especially bad for the young spider. He judged this based on the overwhelming mixture of sadness and loneliness that overtook him as soon as he opened his eyes.

"Get up kid, Nat made breakfast." Tony had opened the door slightly as he spoke, just enough to see his young protege still curled up in his bed with a sad look on his face. Tony often caught Peter with these types of expressions. They always occurred when he thought people weren't looking and only lasted for a split second. This time was no different. As soon as he saw his mentor in the doorway the kids' features perked up to his normal, happy smile. Tony never really thought much of it. His aunt had just died only a little while ago so the older avenger just assumed that he was just missing her. He also ignored the fact that after his aunt died was not the only time he had seen this in Peter. He didn't want to think that anything else could be wrong with his kid. Peter didn't give Tony an answer but he didn't really wait for one before sighing and heading back downstairs either.

As Tony shut the door, Peter slowly got out of bed, being very grateful that he had blankets covering his arm so that the damage he did last night would not be discovered. He didn't know what he would do if someone found out. He picked up the plain grey sweatshirt still on the ground from yesterday and put it on along with his usual blue jeans before heading downstairs. It was his favorite sweatshirt. When things were bad he wore it almost everyday. It was comforting. It had always been able to make him feel safe but lately it also had the added effect of reminding him of his old life with May. He let out a long breath realizing he had worn it the last three days in row. The avengers would surely notice if he continued to wear it but he didn't really care at the moment. As he was walking he looked down at his left sleeve, pulling at it to make sure it covered every last bit of dried blood left on his skin from the night before. He still didn't feel like cleaning it off. For some reason his mind was telling him not to. It was almost like he felt it should get infected. Like he should hurt for longer. He knew his powers would help it heal within a few days anyway, just leaving a few small lines behind.

When he got to the kitchen, everyone was already sitting at the table ready to eat the pancakes Nat had prepared. Peter took his seat in between her and Tony like he did for every meal. They didn't have designated seats but they all basically ended up in the same place every time. The avengers all began grabbing the food that had been neatly set in the center of the table. Peter got his food last. A singular pancake with nothing on it. That alone should concern the others. Peter had quite the sweet tooth and could often be seen putting loads of sugary toppings, like syrup for his pancakes, on all of his foods. But he didn't care for food much these days. In fact, the thought of eating anything made him feel sick. Sometimes he would even throw up at the smell of food. He didn't really know how it had gotten that far. At first he just simply didn't feel like eating. He always would just rather go to bed or do something that engaged his mind to distract himself from his thoughts. He wasn't doing it on purpose. At least that's what he told himself. Peter knew he had lost quite a bit of weight and he knew that his metabolism required him to eat more than the average human but he just couldn't bring himself to eat more than a few bites at a time. No one seemed to notice though. He just ate slowly so that he finished at the same time as the others and didn't draw much attention to himself at meal time. Everyone just thought he was quiet when he ate.

Peter was halfway done with his plate when he began to feel overwhelmingly nauseous. The kid put his fork down and sat back in his chair for a moment. No one noticed which he was grateful for. The others finished eating in the next few minutes and everyone began cleaning their plates. That's when Steve said something, right as Peter threw away half a pancake.

"You feeling ok kid? You didn't eat very much." Steve spoke with concern in his voice, placing a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. The young avenger looked up at his elder, his face falling for a split second. He hoped it went unnoticed.

"Oh yeah I'm good. My stomach is just bothering me a little." It wasn't a lie it just wasn't the whole truth. Peter often told himself this to make himself feel better about not telling people things. He didn't like dishonesty and hiding things very much. He only did it when he had to. "I think I'm just going to go to bed actually. Thanks for breakfast Nat, it was great!" Peter rushed out the words out and hurried back upstairs to his room, two steps at a time.

Once his door was closed, Peter threw himself onto his bed. He felt increasingly sick over the next few moments and eventually found himself lying on the floor of the bathroom attached to his room. He had just gotten sick and was really hoping nobody heard.

"Would you like me to alert Mr.Stark?" Peter heard Friday speak above him.

"No, no I'm good. Don't tell Mr.Stark." He spoke as loud as he could muster. He didn't get a response from the ceiling. Peter stayed on the ground for a while. He just didn't feel like getting up. He was right. This would be a bad day. He slowly felt his eyelids grow heavy. He soon drifted off to sleep, still curled up on the cold tile floor.