spiderman angst/sickfic oneshots

the fifth day of sickmas: seasonal depression

He shrugged in response. He had more or less ghosted his friends.

"I got a text from Ned today." She admitted, "he says you haven't been answering his texts, why not?"

He shrugged again. He didn't know why. He just didn't know what to say anymore. He knew the second May left after this conversation he was going to add cuts to his arms to relieve himself of some of the guilt for doing that. He deserved the pain for making everyone around him worry. Now he felt even more like shit.

"When was the last time you went to your internship?" She asked, "I got a text from someone named ....Happy? He said you have been answering him either." She said, not trying to get on his case but getting on his case.

"I don't even know if my phone is charged." He mumbled. He hadn't even been on his phone, he'd just been laying in bed for hours upon hours. Sleeping or staring at the wall descending into horrid thoughts about himself, fantasizing of ways to end his life. He didn't get up to eat or drink water, barely to use the bathroom. He only really ate when May was home and forced him to, which was becoming only breakfast, the smallest meal of the day.

"Why don't we call Mr. Stark and talk about going back this week? I think it'll do you some good to get out of the apartment." She said, standing up and offering out a hand.

Peter took it hesitantly and stood, revealing how thin he'd gotten. His pajama pants sat lower on his bong hips now and his T-shirt sagged over highlighted collarbones.

"Come out of your room, I'm gonna make dinner. I love you, Peter." She said, pulling him into a hug.

He didn't hug back, but rested his head on her shoulder, "love you too, May."

--------

The next week, May found out she had to be out of town for Christmas. So Tony agreed to house him while she was way away, especially after May expressed her concern's about her nephew's mental and physical health. Before Peter knew it May was chaperoning him on the subway to get to the Avenger's tower. He didn't want to go.

Peter had argued with May over it.
Then cried over it.
Then cried over yelling at May.
And then sliced his wrists deeper than he'd ever gone before. His super quick healing wasn't doing so good of a job anymore.

He was fine with that.

When he got to the lab on Christmas Eve, Mr. Stark pulled him into a hug. He weakly hugged back, not smiling. He was wearing a big hoodie and carrying a backpack full of changes of clothes he wasn't sure he'd even use.

"It's been a while. Excited about Christmas?" He asked after they'd finished hugging.

Peter just nodded. He couldn't smile. He didn't have the energy. It sort of came off as him being assholish, but Tony pushed it off. He'd been assholish himself and this wasn't that, he could tell.

When Peter didn't continue the conversation, the mentor frowned.

"What's wrong, bud?" Tony asked, genuinely concerned. Something deeper was going on here and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. He was Tony Stark for fucks sake he had handled aliens and terrorists, a kid who's been a little down lately should be a piece of cake!

"I'm just tired, can I take a nap?" He asked, no care in his eyes.

"Oh, well I was hoping we could get in some lab time first, but if you're tired you should sleep. When do you want me to wake you up?" Tony asked, "I'll set Friday to it."

Peter glanced around to find a clock, and then answered, "three hours?" Hopefully he could skip dinner that way. He didn't know why he didn't want to eat, he just wasn't hungry.