The Other One(STOPPED WRITING)

Chapter 18: The vents...

I lay in my bed, alone.
I needed rest. But I couldn't.
I was bound to have a nightmare this time.
I just got lucky yesterday.
I sit up, wincing, and looking out the window.
My neck still hurt, and the chip left a burn.
That would leave a scar. Another one.
I had a lot of scars, actually. All over my body.
There were multiple on my actual arm from times I had to.. kill. And other times from when I wouldn't cooperate.
There were scars on my knees and legs, too.
(TW: Self harm. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this subject, skip past it. I wouldn't want to be responsible for any possible triggers.)

Then there were the scars on my shoulder. The shoulder that attached my metal arm.
There were multiple scars from times I tried to scratch the arm off.
I wanted to bleed... and die.
I almost did, too. But they just reattached the arm.
The scars just sat there, now.
I was so done with everything at the time I tried to do that.
I realized I'd never get away with anything, though. So I never did it again.
...
I'm laying in bed, when there's a knock on the door.
"Come in." I say.
Natasha comes in.
I sit up on the bed, letting her sit down.
"How are you holding up?" She asks.
I shrug. I didn't really know how I felt.
She sighs.
"You'll be okay, you know. We've fought them before. We can do it again." She says, trying to smile.
"What if you can't?" I ask.
She looks down at her hands resting in her lap.
"We will." She says.
You don't know that.
"Okay."
She looks back up at me.
"Have you been resting?" She asks.
"A bit." I lie. I couldn't sleep.
She smiles a bit, "Something must be wrong with the security camera, then."
"I just...can't sleep."
"Nightmares? Barnes told me."
I nod.
"Well, then, just relax a bit." She smiles.
"I'll try."
"It's progress." She says, before leaving and closing the door.

Suddenly, the vent opens up.
Peter, oh my gosh.
He sticks out his head.
"Is she gone?" He asks.
"I think if she was still here she would've seen you and said something." I smile.
"Uh- yeah, probably." He laughs, climbing down.
"You know, there's a perfectly good door right there." I say, pointing.
"Well, yeah... but the vents are cool. Mr. Clint is always in them, though, so I go only in them when he isn't around."
"Clint hides in vents?" I laugh.
"Uh- yeah,"He smiles, "Who knows why..."
He stands silent, just for a second, before saying something.
"Oh- I ordered a pizza. I almost forgot." He says, looking back in the vents.
I laugh.
He pulls out the pizza from the vents.
"Be careful, Clint might smell it from the vents." I joke. 
"Sound like he already has." He laughs.
"Kid!" I hear, yelling outside the door.
The door flies open and Clint stands at the doorway.
"I smelt pizza." He says.
Peter lifts up the box to show him that we, indeed, had pizza.
He walks over to the box and opens it.
"I get a piece, then I'll leave you alone." He says, taking a piece.
"Oh, okay." Peter laughs.
He's about to close the door.
"Oh, and Peter. Stop using the vents. You've gotten a perfectly good door right here." He says, closing it.
As soon as he leaves, we both start laughing.
"I told you he'd know!" I exclaim.
He shrugs and puts on a funny smile.
"Let's just have some pizza." He laughs.