mr.stark, help...

ch.15

⚠️⚠️Trigger warning, vividly describes suicide⚠️⚠️

Pov. Peter
"you need to rest, call if you need anything, ok?" Mr.stark says as he turn out the light in my room in his way out the door.

"I will." I say, pulling the blackets up to my chin. "Good night kiddo." He says, closing my door behind him. I hear him walk away down the hall.

I can't sleep, I know I can't sleep. I sit up in my bed and look up at ceiling. I see his face in the textured ceiling. I feel my heart squeeze in my chest.

I get out a notebook full of notes, love notes, not-so-fake suicide notes, just notes that no one will ever read. I don't think about it, I just start writing. Reading what I wrote makes me realize something.

Dear wade, I'm sorry. I didnt mean to hurt you, I love you so much, its my fault you might be dead. It's my fault you're dying. I ruin everything, don't I? If I die, maybe I'll be with you forever, or if you survive and I don't, you won't have to deal with me anymore. I just want what's best for you. I know it hurts now but in the long run your life will be better without me.

I'm sorry, but this is what's best for you.

I stare at the page in front of me. I'm shaking. I'm just being dramatic, right? I flio to the next page and start writing again, not thinking about it, just letting my emotions lead my hand.

Dear mr.stark, I'm sorry. You didn't have to save me, I only made things harder for you. The news is freaking out, and you shouldn't have to deal with my crying. It's not your fault I'm so fucked up, I have no one to blame but myself for that.    You were so much happier before you met me. I'll just drag you down with me if I stay, so I won't. It'll hurt for a little while, but I know you're strong enough to live through the bad times. I promise, things can only get better for you from here. Oh and, don't expect to see spiderman after this. I want you to tell everyone who I was, I want them to know that this kind of thing can happen to anyone.

I look at my words on the page, and feel the tears sting at my eyes. I'm holding the one so tightly that I'm shaking. I try to take a deep breath, but when I breath out, I make a small crying sound.

I flip back to the first page and stare at the note that I wrote wade.

I ruin everything, don't I? If I die, maybe I'll be with you forever, or if you survive and I don't, you won't have to deal with me anymore

That's what I wrote. That's what I felt, no, feel. I stare at the words and realize that it's true. I ruin everything.

I flip the note book to the page for mr.stark, and put it on the bed next to me. The tears are running down my face and I have to cover my mouth so no one hears me sobbing. 

I walk into my bathroom and reach under the sink for my blades. I can't find them. Where are they?

I pick up the vox of bandages that's usually on top of them, and instead of blades, there's a sticky note.

I guess no one told you we share a bathroom. Found them looking for shaving cream. If you need them, talk to me.   -bucky.

Shit. He found them. I can't talk to him, especially not like this, he'll know, I won't be able to pull off the lie, but I need those blades.

I run back into my room and slamm the bathroom door behind me. I grab a hoodie and a few dollars out of my bag.

I open my door and bucky is standing right there, hand hovering where the door knob would be. He seems out of breath, like he's been running.

"Peter! Are you ok?" He asks, panic in his voice. "yeah I'm fi-" "were you crying?" He asks, stepping back slightly. I notice the box of blades in the hall closet behind him.

"no, yes, it doesn't matter, I'm okay." I say, trying to squeeze past him. He puts his metal arm in front of me and blocks me.

"kid, don't." He says. I still back into my room, waiting for him to drop his guard so I can run.

"What's up with you? Why are you blocking me?" I ask. It's hard not to get mad when someone is blocking you from your only outlet.

"you slammed a door, I git scared that you were... trying to find something I took." He says, sounding genuinely concerned.

I feel like an asshole, but I'm trying my best not to be. I'm just a bad person by nature, why would I be getting this mad otherwise?

"you took something?" I ask, trying not to sound like I'm lying. I guess I just sounded mad because he dropped his guard and stepped back.

"no, I mean, I guess it wasn't what I thought. Nevermind." He says, walking back to his room. I feel like an asshole. I'm being an asshole.

I run out of the elevator on the first floor, and run to the gas station. I grab a box of razor blades, and walk up to the counter.

"will that be all today ma'm?" The cashier says. My heart sinks even lower in my chest. "yup." "$4.28" he says. I put a five dollar bill on the counter and grab the blades.

"keep the change." I shout as I run out the door and back to the tower. I go through the back way so no one see's me.

I close the door to my room and sit on my bed. I started sobbing again as soon as I closed the door. I sit down on my bed and grab the notebook and pen, flipping yo the next blank page.

Dear uncle bucky, I'm sorry. I was acting like an asshole, there's no excuse for that. I didn't mean to, I was scared. You were right. I know you figured it out, and I know you were just worried about me. When you were in my doorway I was on my way to the store to buy more blades because you took mine. I was so desperate that I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry. Don't blame yourself for this, please. There was nothing you could have done, nothing anyone could have done. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sorry that was the last time we spoke.

I put the notebook on the bed next to me and go to grab my blades. I notice a note slipped under the door. I get up and read the note.

I can hear you crying, maybe your laughing, I can't tell. If you want to talk I'm just next door. -bucky

Shit, he can hear me crying. I put the note back where I found it, and pretend I didn't see it. I grab the box of blades and take them into the bathroom.

I sit in the bathtub and pull up by sleeve. I never cut near my wrists, I was always scared I would die, but now that's the point.

I'm still crying. I'm holding my breath so no one hears me. I breath out slowly, collecting my final thoughts.

I open the box of blades and take out about three of them. I hold them to my wrist, one blade between each finger. I don't think one cut will do the trick, but I don't want the pain to be drawn out.

I don't notice untill it's to late, but I'm crying so hard I'm shaking at this point, and my breathing it heavy and it hurts.

I lower the blades and push lightly against my skin, and the pain stings in a good way. A way that shouldn't be comforting, but it feels safe. I can feel the blood already.

I breath in sharply as I push harder. I begin to slide and I feel tge blades go deeper into my wrist. My fingers touch my skin, but I still push harder.

I take one finally breath, before sliding quickly and pushing as hard as I can. I expected to hear something, like the blood hitting the tub, or the blades dropping against the tile floor, but I don't hear anything.

My vision begins to fade as I realize what I've done. I've done the one thing everyone's told me wasn't I brave enough to do. I've done the one thing almost everyone I've ever meet has told me to do.

I catch a glimpse of a figure in the door way as my vision goes completely.