Spider-Man Oneshots

11. I Leave The 8 Blank

Summary: Peter struggles to cope with the loss of Mr. Stark

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One is red.

My therapist recommended this activity, but I think it's a waste of time. I've always been more of a science person, not an artistic one. That was always MJ.

Making this picture wasn't creative or productive, but I guess it kind of helps.

Sitting in my class, everyone is too focused in their own world, worrying about what people think about them. They don't realize the pain that I'm experiencing, not that I want them to. I do my color by numbers to tell Ned and MJ that I can't talk. If I do I'll shatter, and won't be rebuilt.

Find the next area.

I try not to think of the silence when his arc reactor stopped the gentle humming. The humming that meant he was alive.

One is red. The color of the wild flowers that glazed the forest floor.

The color of the blood that stained his—

No. Don't think of that.

Aunt May started taking me to church.

Why? Why would I believe in a god that will step off of his all mighty throne to help someone find their glasses, but let so many innocent people die every day? People that we sacrifice our lives for, and let the bad people live.

Two is orange. I do that one next.

I think of him at the worst moments. Mid-swing, taking a test.

I think of the moments of him correcting my suit's wiring, reciting word for word the lines in Star Wars. Those moments I smile. A sad one, but still a smile.

Three is brown. The color of the tree trunks and pine cones.

"Mr. Stark!" I yelled as I felt something crack over my head, the yolk dripping down my face.

"What?" He asked innocently, though I see the smirk gracing his mouth.

In retaliation, I fling the entire bowl of cake batter on him.

Laughs echo around the kitchen as the food fight continues. Flour clouds the air, but I can still see Mr. Stark's beaming smile.

"What the hell is going on in here?" A voice calls from the entrance. Captain Rogers.

"Language Cap!" Mr. Stark and I both shout at the same time. We both burst out laughing.

"Will you never let me live that down," I hear him mutter with my super hearing.

"I'm always needing to clean up after you boys," Ms. Nat said, appearing out of who knows where.

Four is blue, the color of freedom and openness. I don't feel free, trapped in my own mind. I can't escape. I'm not open any more. I try not to show my emotions.

I enter the lab, not knowing if I should go in there. Always overthinking. My gaze travels to our work bench and desk.

Before, the desk seemed to be constantly a mess with blueprints and various tools. Now it was empty. Unused.

I sat down grabbing a random wire off of the floor and fiddling with it. This wasn't the same room I have so many memories in.

Five is green. The color of grass.

Who could of known green would ever hurt.

The thought of the grass that now covered the grave of my only father figure since Uncle Ben made my eyes start to water. And I thought I had run out of tears. It seemed like it was yesterday when they lowered his casket into the earth, when it was a fresh mound. Hadn't it had been last week when they started that food fight?

Six is pink, the color of love.

Lately, I've felt like no one even remembers him lately. The news stopped talking about his death, how it would affect the economy. The Avengers don't bring up his name. Pepper is locked in her room, only coming out for Morgan, his last gift from him to her.

My friends have stopped asking if I'm okay.

Purple, seven. The color of the late sunset, of the iris.

Sometimes I feel obsolete, a teenager coloring a pointless color by number. Morgan's probably doing the same thing right now.

My therapist thinks I should think about getting a part time job. Help get my mind off things. She doesn't know about Spider-man, and that's probably the hardest part. Why she can't help me fully.

Getting a job would help. It would help Aunt May pay for the bills. The insurance only covers so much for my mental health.

But I can't.

There are so many things I can't do. At times it feels like I can't do anything, and the things I can do I don't do right.

The final color, is yellow. The 8th color. Sunshine is what I think of when I see the yellow. Happiness.

How can I be happy when he's not here?

It was sunny the day we laid him to rest, The priest said something about it being Mr. Stark smiling down on us. Right. Good weather still existed, even if I always felt like it was raining.

The sun always comes up. Day after day it does. The world keeps spinning even though one of the people that meant most to me is dead. Never coming back.

I stop then. Before even touching the yellow color pencil. I want it to be obvious that it isn't finished. I can't fill in the spaces where he was and that hole will always be in my heart. No one can fill in for Mr. Stark. No one can replace him.

So I leave the eight blank.

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Hey! I'm SO sorry for not updating for almost a year! Life has been crazy but I'll be updating more frequently now! I'm currently working on in your shoes pt. 2 :)