Wrong number :/~~Spider-Man

🕺

It wasn't helping.

As he relived the past hour, every inch he knew made contact was rubbed raw by his nonexistent nails. He sobbed, harshly tugging at his neck as he tried grasping it.

Why?

Why did he let it happen?

Why was Skip after him??

Why was he doing this??

Minutes passed by, and he didn't stop until he saw the red that was beginning to leak onto his fingers as well.

This drove him into a panic, his breathing remaining the elevated pace he'd held up for much longer than was healthy.

Why didn't it work??

How was he going to clean this up?

What would Tony do if he found out??

Peter tried holding his breath to shut himself up from the hyperventilating he had driven himself into.

"I'm sorry" he choked out to himself, wrapping his arms around his knees, "I'm sorry" he repeated.

He kept that on loop quietly, rocking himself back and fourth.

Alone on the roof, the teen tried forcing himself out of the attack. His arms hurt, and he felt like he was being compressed. All of the torn skin he had ached, and his neck felt like hands were..

He took a deep, shaky breath through his nose, managing to keep it in for a solid second. This sparked hope of him calming down.

He brushed his hair out of his face to try and make things clearer, breathing in and out smoother each time.

"It's okay" he whispered, switching up the the useless apologies he'd been spewing. "it's gonna be okay".

Of course, he didn't believe that, but it did help him relax.

Eyes closed, he finally reached a point where he could feel almost normal again.

He laid down again, ignoring the smell and taste of his stomach's painfully blatant unwelcomed houseguests in a puddle next to him.

He was a horrible person.

A horrible, horrible person.

He gave a spiteful laugh to himself. Why did he think things could be fixed so simply?

Could they ever be fixed?

He felt his phone continue to blow up across the floor. It was giving him a headache.

Grabbing the putrid mask, and the suit directly from his bag, he webbed the rest of his contents to the floor and leaped over the edge.

From there, he slipped on the mask and found a place to change his attire in private.

Once suited up, and brushing down the now manageable mask, he shot himself a line and lunged himself into the sky.

He could hear shouts below him, and at first he thought he'd just skimmed over something important.

It took him a moment to realize that they were cheering.

People were cheering for him.

For Spider-Man.