The Pain of Existing

Chapter 4

Ok, another chapter as promised! Every Saturday now!

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

Peter's P.O.V.

"It takes away... the pain of existing."

I stare at the ground, waiting for him to say something.

"Mister Stark?" I whisper.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Are you mad at me?" I hear my voice crack on the last word. Mister Stark sighs.

"No, Pete, just... I don't know how I feel about this," He puts his arm around me. "I know you've been through a lot, but you need to understand that hurting yourself is not the answer." I close my eyes, leaning into him.

"So what are we gonna do?" I ask after a long pause.

"You are not going anywhere until we have this little 'hobby' taken care of. Call your aunt, tell her you're staying for awhile." I flinch when he calls it a hobby, but I take out my phone nevertheless. I click on Aunt May's contact, and call her. She picks up on the second ring.

"Hello? Peter? Are you ok?" She asks frantically.

"I'm fine, but I wanted to let you know that I'm going to stay at Avengers Tower a little longer," I say.

"You're not still sick, are you?" She questions.

"No, no, I'm just going to be working on my internship here. Not permanently, just for now." She hesitates, and I hear her sigh.

"Ok, I guess. But I expect you to call at least twice a week, or I'll march down there and pick you up myself, you hear?"

"Yes, Aunt May. Bye!" I agree.

"Bye, Peter," she murmurs. "Be safe." She hangs up, and I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I heard my mentor outside the door, and remembered why I was staying here in the first place.

"Kid, you done yet?" He poked his head in, and I nodded. "Good. I called some of the other Avengers to let them know you're staying here, and, naturally, they have some questions for you. They're downstairs, if you want to-"

"No!" I yell.

"It's ok, you don't have to." I sigh in relief. "But sooner or later you're going to have to tell them something." I shake my head furiously. "Well, either you tell them, or I tell them."

"I don't want them to know," I whisper. His gaze softened, and he nodded sympathetically. He thought for a moment, before coming up with a solution.

"How about I tell them that you're going through some rough times, and leave out the details?" I give him a tiny nod. "Ok kid, I can do that." He turns to leave, and I suddenly remember something.

"Mister Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to Mister Banner?" He gives me a small smile, before nodding.

"Sure, I can go get him." He left, and a few minutes later, I heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," I call. Bruce walked in, fidgeting with a small object.

"You wanted to see me?" He smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I admit.

"That's good." He held out the object he was fiddling with. "I thought you might need this. It's a stress ball." I take the stress ball from his outstretched palm. "When you feel overwhelmed, or upset, or nervous, it helps distract you from not feeling good."

"Thanks," I say, squeezing the ball.

"No problem. I would keep that with you all the time, to keep yourself in control." He suggests. I nod, squeezing the stress ball over and over. "So... is there anything you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yeah. How do you do it?"

"Oh, um, well, first of all, stay grounded. Try to think about the positives of a situation. Have something to distract you from bad feelings." Bruce gestures to the stress ball in my hand. "You can also think about something or someone that makes you happy."

"Ok, but what if I get... urges?" Bruce puts his hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eye.

"Peter. You are good enough. You are strong enough. You are enough. And don't ever let someone tell you you're not. Promise me that you won't hurt yourself again." He stares into my eyes, unblinking.

"I'll try."

"Promise me that you won't," he says again.

"I won't," I assure him. Bruce suddenly looks awkward, patting my shoulder. He clears his throat, eyes darting around the room to finally land on me.

"Ok, good. Um, I'll just, uh, I'll just go now..." He slips out the door, leaving me alone to ponder what he had said. I fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Eventually, I feel my eyelids growing heavy, and fall asleep.

Ok, so not really great, whoops, but at least I stuck with my deadline! Yay! So I wrote this while floating down a river in a kayak...

Next chapter comes next Saturday!