Peter Parker & The Avengers oneshots - 2

Training Nightmares

Peter had been on the team for a few months now...

He enjoyed working with the Avengers and loved working in the labs for SI, but something else seemed to trouble him.

You could say it was the stress he put on himself to get everything perfect since he was 19 and was doing alot, but he couldn't help but question is it was indeed stress...

For the past few nights, Peter had gotten barely any sleep.

He knew why, but him being him, he pushed it aside. Something inside of him told him he should tell someone, but he couldn't. He physically couldn't.

It was about 4 am in the training room and Peter was the only person awake in the whole building. Tony, Steve, Natasha, Sam and Clint had all crashed out since they had been on a mission for three nights.

Peter had been awake since around 1 and been in the training room within 30 minutes. It was the only thing he could think off to take his mind off what he was seeing.

Every time he'd close his eyes, he relived everything bad that had ever happened to him. It would start off good but then it would turn dark and suffocating. He'd wake up in a pool of sweat and adrenaline rushing through his blood. He'd probably built up more muscles simply through his nightmares.

Some of them had been about Ben, others had been about the Vulture and if he ever came back and Peter was the only one left. Others were of the team dying in front of his eyes, believing it was his fault. That he was the reason the world would never have the Avengers again.

He continuously punched the punching bag, seeing these images flash before his eyes as if he was living them all over again.

Suddenly, however, he was snapped away from them for a split second as the bag tore completely open and was thrashed to the other side of the training room.

"Couldn't sleep neither, huh?" Said a voice by the door.

Peter had been seeing the images that intensly, his senses hadn't detected anything for the past couple of hours.

He turned around, sweat rolling down him like an ocean. His cheeks red and his hear curling. He saw Bucky walking inside. But Peter was the only one up...wasn't he?

Peter didn't say anything, just walked over to the pile of punching bags and picked up another, hanging it up again.

Starting off slower than before, Peter punched at the bag again.

"You want to talk about it?" Bucky asked.

Peter paused for a moment. "Talk about what?"

"What you're seeing." Bucky answered.

Peter hesitated in punching the bag for a short moment before continuing. "I'm not seeing anything."

Bucky gave a slight smirk. "Really? Because I've watched you for the past 5 minutes and you have the same look Steve had on his face every time he'd be seeing flashbacks from the war."

Peter clenched his jaw, continuing to punch. "Well, it doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Peter asked.

"Why don't the images matter?" Bucky questioned.

Peter let out a sigh, his punches getting a little harder. "Because. They've already happened."

"And the one's that haven't?"

"They're made up."

Bucky had maybe seen this a thousand times before, but he never reacted any differently. He knew what it was like to wake up, clenching and screaming from nightmares so vile in your own mind, that sometimes it can take years for them to go away and for your mind to forget them.