Kid?

Chapter 13: Where Next

Peter sat on the edge of his bed, staring at a wall. He couldn't believe what he'd just said, couldn't believe that the team had just heard that. He wanted to cry, to scream, to let it all out. But nothing happened. He sat frozen, paralysed by his own thoughts.

The team were just as still, it seemed as though none of them dared to utter a word after what they'd just heard. The reality of Peter's speech was sinking in to each and every one of them, his harsh words were seeping through every fibre of their being. He wanted to die. Not in an impulsive, thoughtless way. He'd thought about it, considered it, for fuck sake he'd tried it. And their little boy had come out the other side wishing he hadn't. A scream pierced through the teams silence. And as though they were one person, they ran in unison to Peter's room. Terrified of what their kid might've done to himself.

In a moment, the weight of Peter's feelings came crashing down on him, and he sobbed. Tears flowing down his face like he'd never let them before. He didn't know what to do. What hope was he supposed to have, he'd tried dying, he'd tried talking about it, he'd tried being silent, he'd tried getting support. What more was there. As the emotions continued to hit him he let out a guttural scream, he let out every bad feeling he'd ever felt. And he pushed himself forward onto the floor, curling into a ball as though that would save him. If he never uncurled himself, he'd never have to face reality. If he kept his arms in front of his face, he'd never have to see the world again.

It could've been expected that everyone would be relieved to find that Peter wasn't physically in harms way. He didn't appear to be on the verge of death, as they'd found him before. But no one was relieved. They gazed at the kid curled up on the floor. The broken kid. Their broken kid. But what were they supposed to do, no one had trained them for this fight. No one had ever imagined that the fun-loving Peter they first met would one day end up on the floor. Tony was the first to step forward, towards his kid bundled up, caving in on himself. He knelt down and put his had on Peters shoulder.
"I'm here. I'm right here and I'm not going to leave, I promise."
Ungracefully he shuffled so he could move Peter's head, and he placed it on his lap.
Natasha appeared beside Peter next, she simply placed her hand on his, letting Peter know she was there.

Peter felt the people around him. He thought about these people, who cared about him, made him laugh, looked after him, and always came back. He'd tried to convince himself time and time again that they didn't care, but he could never quite figure out why they always came back. And here they were again, awkwardly standing around him, wanting to comfort him in any way possible. They cared.
Peter realised that at some point he would have to remove his arms from his face, at some point he would need to move, if you think about it logically. And moving could go either way, he could continue to cave in on himself and take his sorry ass back up to the roof. Or he could lean on his family, for real this time. Pulling his arms away from his face, Peter realised he'd already seen how the first option played out, and it ended with the people he loved coming to his rescue. So he looked up and into the eyes of Tony Stark. A man he had once worshipped as a god among men, who's eyes were now soft and sad as he looked back at Peter.
"Tony?"
"Yes, son"
"I think I'm ready to get help"

And like that, there was a glimmer of hope.

Published:16.10.2020
I know it's not a particularly interesting ending, but I wanted to finish it