Peter Parker & The Avengers oneshots - 2

For Long

For as long as he'd known it, he'd been alone...all of his life.

Every...moment, anniversairy, birthday, holiday. Everything, he'd only known it himself. No-one else seemed to stick around for very long, well, not long enough to find out anyhow.

From being a kid, he grew up quicker than most. He became more mature for his age, as if he was both 43 and an 80 year old man in one.

He long to keep hold of the child-like innocence. But any time he'd show it, he'd be called a child, or pathetic. Or when something really hurt him, if he even showed a tear, he'd be seen as weak. He'd be told it was okay to cry and he wanted to believe them, but the looks on their faces said otherwise.

Their faces showed judgement and tried to tell him he wasn't allowed to be like that.

He'd tell them, to their faces whenever it would be brought up, that he'd probably seen more than any of them would ever see in their entire life time. And they'd nod, and maybe agree with him once in a while. But he knew they didn't believe him.

So he built barriers.

Assume the worst, you won't be so dissapointed in the end, right?

It had worked for years.

People would ask him, "Aren't you tired?" or "Don't you just want to stay?" and the reason he always shook his head was because he knew, if he stayed, he'd just suffer more dissapointment. They thought they wanted him, but once they had him, they'd come to realise, they should of just let him go. Let him go to the next Banks family would would need him until the wind changed once more.

He'd met so many people in his life, he knew that he wasn't really noticed.

He was knew of, but once he walked out of the door, his name was forgotten. Everything they knew about him, shoved into a gutter and someone else could take the credit.

He longed to find a family, friends or even just a place where he could stay longer than just a few weeks. A place he could call his home, not a house.

People had told him, "But this is your home." but it wasn't. To him, it was just a house, just brick and cement, nothing more, nothing less.

He wanted a home.

Not a house.

Not...people. He wanted a family.

So once he finally found a family, he wanted to never let them go, never wanted to see them get hurt. But he could never let himself get too attached.

Sometimes he'd be called dramatic or be told, "Stop feeling so sorry for yourself." But he wasn't. If they had known and seen what he'd had lived, believe me, they wouldn't even think of saying those words.

He never let himself get attached because once he did, he knew they'd get sick of him, have them wishing they never met him or brought him in. Have them wishing they could just throw him to the curb like a piece of rubbish.

That was why he was always so reserved. He never really told them much about his past and how he got to where he was. He told them some things, and they knew he was trustworthy and honest. He'd never lie to anyone, but always somehow made people note that if anyone asked for the truth, he'd tell them.

He didn't want people living in lies, because once they start, soon enough they blow up and one person is always left to clean them up, and usually that person was him.

All he wanted to be able to do was feel human and accepted. But as a family member, not as someone who was created to just help people through their stuggles whether that be building almost an entire house back together, or sowing a families values back together.