Inevitable doom

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Third Person POV: 
Trigger Warning: Anxiety/Panic attack
A/n: I apologize for whatever this is. I've had a really, really stressful past two weeks and this just became the product of the two. I promise I will write you guys something that isn't so like not good here as soon as I can. I also want to use this opportunity to say thank you for 2.6k reads and 100 votes! Seriously, you guys mean the absolute world to me and this is amazing! You all are the best! Sending you all love <3<3<3
Word Count: 5,733

 It was days like this that Peter hated. The days where we woke up to a knot in his stomach. The days where his nerves were on edge the whole day, warning him of some impending doom that was soon to come. The days where he couldn't focus on anything but the thoughts of danger or the fear that something terrible might happen. The days where he felt like he was having a mild panic attack that lasted from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. The days where he stayed by his friend's side and texted May and Tony every hour just to make sure that they were still alive. The days where he couldn't stop himself from immediately going on patrol after school in fear that if he didn't wasn't going to be able to save someone that needed him to. The days where he wouldn't get back to his apartment until late and would just collapse onto his bed from how exhausted the day had made him.

He wasn't really sure what caused those days. Typically, nothing bad really ever happened on those days. There might have been something like a robbery or a thief that he would stop. There might be a car crash that he helped prevent or an old lady he helped cross the street. It was never anything big. It was never anything that seemed worth all the anxiousness and all the worry. He chopped it down after the fifth time to his overactive senses doing just that, overreacting. Still, those days sucked.

Today was one of those days.

He woke up and immediately felt the urge to throw up from how tight the knot in his stomach was. He managed not to, pushing himself out of bed and getting ready as quickly as he could. He made sure he had everything in his bag. Then he checked again. Then again. He threw his suit into his bag. He immediately checked to make sure that it was in there. Satisfied that he had everything, he walked out of his bedroom. May was leaning on the counter in the kitchen. She was looking through a stack of papers. Bill, probably. Peter studied her for a second. No, it couldn't have been bills. Her face wasn't wrinkled with worry. It couldn't be bills. He wanted to ask, but he didn't.

May looked up and smiled an effortless smile. "Peter. You're up early," she said as she looked at the watch she wore on her wrist. It used to reside on Ben's wrist, but when he died and it was released from evidence, May slid it onto her wrist. She had to adjust the size to fit her. Even then, it was too big. It didn't look perfect on her wrist, but she wouldn't take it off. Peter still felt a pang of sadness every time he saw that watch on her wrist. "You did get some sleep last night, right? I don't remember hearing you come back in after patrol." The smile she wore slightly dropped when she said that.

Peter was quick to reassure her. "No, I was home last night. I went through the window though, sorry. Old habit," he said. He started scratching his head. Once he realized he was, he immediately stopped. That was typically a dead give away that something was bothering him. "I don't know, I just woke up," he said with a shrug. He left out the 'because of the giant knot in my stomach' part. It didn't feel important.

The smile returned onto May's face. "Oh, that's good. You had me worried for a second." She laid the papers she had down on the counter and walked over to Peter. "I'm glad you woke up early. I have a meeting today and I'm leaving a little earlier than usual. I figured I could pick up some coffee. I was going to leave you a note, but since you are up, I'll just tell you." She stood on her tiptoes, kissing Peter's forehead. She looked at Peter and tilted her head slightly. "Are you okay honey? You're looking a little pale."

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