A/N: hello!
you guys, this chapter is really heavy and dark. it's probably the darkest chapter since this story started so i'm just gonna go ahead and say, this chapter is not for everyone and you can totally skip it if you don't feel comfortable with this stuff
⚠️ tw: self harm and suicidal thoughts ⚠️
the song possibilities from twilight is up there in case you want to make this sadder than it already is
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MAY
Adelaide sat by her phone for endless hours, painfully waiting, hoping, praying that in the next moment, it would buzz with Peter's name and she would pick it up and hear his voice again.
Maybe even just a text would ease the pain a little. But as she sat there for hours day after day, waiting for the impossible, her phone stayed dark and unringing. Because all the people she ever called on that phone were gone. And now her phone was useless as the voice in her mind trying to convince her to move on.
So she wrapped her fingers around the phone and chucked it across the room as hard as she could.
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JUNE
She screamed, shoving the table over.
Glass shattered across the room. A piece flew into her arm. She paused, staring at it curiously. She watched the blood oozing out. It was dripping out slowly, as if hesitant. She studied the piece of glass. It was roughly the shape of a triangle. She concentrated on the physical pain. It hurt less.
With trembling fingers, she pulled the piece of glass out, tossing it aside.
Sobbing, she ran her finger along the cut. Her finger was bloody now. She pulled at the cut, opening it up further. It stung like hell. But it still hurt less.
Adelaide fell to the floor, staring at the cut on her arm. Her eyes ran over the glass. She found the one that had been in her arm moments earlier and picked it up, turning it around. The tears were rolling down her face, spilling into her mouth. She gasped for air, feeling her throat burn like hellfire.
"I'm sorry, Pete," she sobbed, dragging the glass across her wrist, opening up a new wound for blood to come through. She didn't wait for the pain to register as she made another cut just under it.
"I'm so sorry," she choked out, her entire body heaving, "I couldn't save you."
Dark blood was spilling out quickly now and her arm was covered in a terrifying shade of red.
"I should have stopped it," she gasped, feeling the sting traveling up her arm. She gripped her arm, squeezing it as hard as she could. She groaned in pain, tucking her arm into her abdomen.
"I'm...so...sorry," she cried, shaking with sobs.
The cuts stung. But not nearly enough.
She wrapped her bloody hand into a fist, digging her nails into her palm as hard as she could. She let out a muffled, agonizing scream. She felt her veins under nails. She gritted her teeth and pressed harder.
There were more cuts now, more blood. But the pain wasn't enough, still. She didn't understand. How much physical pain would it take for it equal her hurting? How many more cuts of glass?
"Adie?" someone whispered. He sounded like he couldn't believe what he saw. She didn't look up. She hadn't heard the door opening. But it didn't matter.
"Adie...honey..." he whispered, crossing the room to reach her. The glass crunched under his shoes like snow. He crouched in front of her, staring at the mess she had made of herself.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, staring at the blood and beginning to shake even more. What had she done? Tears pricked his eyes.
"No, sweetheart, I'm sorry," he whispered softly, swallowing. He gently took the glass out of her hand and put it on the floor. "I am so, so sorry."
"Tony," she whispered, trembling now. She ran her fingers over the cuts. She smeared the blood over her hands. The dark red, ominous liquid dropped onto the white carpet, staining the shards of glass there and making it look like morning dew on blades of glass as the sun from the window reflected on it. "I can't...I can't feel anything."
He wrapped his arms around her tightly. She was shivering under his hold. She was too frozen to hug him back.
"I'm scared," he heard her whisper. He swallowed painfully.
"I know," he said, rubbing her back, "We're gonna get through this...We will."
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"Hey, it's Peter. I'm probably busy right now—coming, May! Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! And Mr. Wrong Number, if this is you, can you please stop calling? I haven't seen your cat, sorry. Have a good day!"
"Please leave a message after the tone."
Beep.
"I'm...I'm so sorry."
—————
JULY
"Adie?" Tony said, frantic, "Oh thank god. Oh my god."
It was well past midnight and he when Pepper and Happy had realized their teenager was missing. They had been looking for her for hours now only for the billionaire to find her alone and sitting on some random street with her knees pulled up to her chest, crying to herself.
He fell to his knees, wrapping her up into his arms in relief and kissing her head a million times over.
"I miss him," Adelaide sobbed into his shirt. The gut-wrenching sound of her crying pained him.
"Why did he have to go?" she cried, holding onto him tighter. The sound of her sobs was a raw, agonizing noise. Tony squeezed her tightly, slowly rubbing her back.
"Bring him back. Please," she begged, "I-I didn't even get to say— goodbye." A strangled noise of desperation escaped her throat. He swallowed. He couldn't see her like this. She was in pieces. Lately, he was getting frustrated with himself for not being able to do or provide anything except for the comfort of his arms.
"I-I can't live without him." She was gasping for air now, "I-I can't—" She broke down into his shoulder, sobbing and convulsing with noises of bare agony.
"I loved him, Tony," she sobbed, "I loved him so much. So, so mu–" She broke apart again, clutching his shirt in her fist like it was keeping her from completely shattering.
"I know, honey," he whispered, closing his eyes and burying his face into her hair, "So did I. So did I."
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"Hey, it's Peter. I'm probably busy right now—coming, May! Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! And Mr. Wrong Number, if this is you, can you please stop calling? I haven't seen your cat, sorry. Have a good day!"
"Please leave a message after the tone."
Beep.
She could only sob into the phone.
—————
AUGUST
Adelaide heard the door to her room creaking open in the dark.
Tony thought the teenager would have been sleeping by now, but he wasn't entirely surprised to find her sitting at her desk in her chair with her back to him and her knees pulled up to her chest, as she stared blankly out the window. He silently let himself inside and sat down at the foot of her bed.
"Can't sleep?" he whispered. She didn't answer for a long time.
"If I had started school earlier...when I first came to New York..." she said quietly. Tony could tell by her voice that she hadn't used it in hours. His heart gave a familiar squeeze. "Then I would have had a few more months with him."
She had been sitting this way for hours. Her legs were numb and back was aching, but all she could do was move and match things around in her mind, trying to squeeze in imaginary time with him. She swallowed.
Tony sighed, "Don't do this to yourself."
"If we hadn't fought that summer, I would had three extra months with him," she continued, "If we didn't go to Italy. Two more weeks. If I never went into a coma. Another week."
"You know that's not possible," he said, trying to bring her out of her mind, back into reality. This could go on infinitely.
But Adie had sunken into her very own rabbit hole and Tony knew a piece of her was lost forever.
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Peter.
Peter.
Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter.
She'd written his name everywhere. Over and over. She liked writing his name. Adelaide almost felt like if she didn't write his name, then people would forget him. She was scared that she would forget him. Even for a minute.
She was too scared to let go of the pain. It had become a part of her for so long. She felt guilty if she wasn't in pain.
She'd filled an entire notebook with his name. She wrote it in different colors, with different pens, in different handwriting. Every page read Peter. Peter Parker. In her every thought and breath and heartbeat.
The space on the wall above her headboard was where it had started. It was written harmlessly with a pencil. Then, one day, she was feeling bold and she scribbled his name with a Sharpie. Now it was there when she fell asleep and when she woke up. Every day.
She wrote it on a sticker and stuck on her wardrobe.
She put it on a sticky note above her desk.
She scratched it into the leg of the bedside table with a pair of scissors.
She traced it on the foggy mirror after a hot shower.
Sometimes, she even wrote it on her palm, never really letting the ink on her skin fade away as she traced over it relentlessly day after day.
Peter Parker.
The love of her life, now just a scribble above her bed.
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"Hey, it's Peter. I'm probably busy right now—coming, May! Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! And Mr. Wrong Number, if this is you, can you please stop calling? I haven't seen your cat, sorry. Have a good day!"
"Please leave a message after the tone."
Beep.
"Tony thinks we should sell your apartment to someone else so I can move on. I've actually moved into it. It's the only way I can feel close to you. I spend most of my days in your room, pretending really hard that you're there with me, but Pepper says it's not healthy. I don't want to sell your apartment. It's the only thing that feels like home anymore."
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She wore his clothes every day.
It was a race. Wear as many as she could before his scent went away.
Sometimes she spent the entire day in his room, pretending he was in the kitchen getting popcorn while she was starting up a movie. But the popcorn never came and the movie played on with no one to watch it.
She spent her nights there, sleeping in his bed. It wasn't nearly as comforting as having him there, but the scent of him got her at least a couple hours of sleep which was much more than she could ask for.
Adelaide had lost herself in him. When he died, it was like she had too. Nothing — nothing — made her happy anymore. She was dead inside. And for the first time in her life, even her mind was absolutely silent. No thoughts, no emotions, nothing.
Just...silence.
—————
"Hey, it's Peter. I'm probably busy right now—coming, May! Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! And Mr. Wrong Number, if this is you, can you please stop calling? I haven't seen your cat, sorry. Have a good day!"
"Please leave a message after the tone."
Beep.
"I found your old hoodie in your closet. It still smells like you," she said into her phone as she fumbled with the hoodie strings, "I'm wearing it right now and if I close my eyes, I can pretend you're hugging me. I think I might be losing my mind."
She sighed, ending the call and tossing the phone onto his bed. She ran a tired hand down her face.
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"Hey Pete. I've been staring at a picture of you for...I'm not sure how long. I never noticed the little scar you have behind your ear. I can't stop wondering how you got it. I made up a story about it in my head since I can't ask you. I'm guessing it was a biking accident when you were a kid. But there's no way I can know."
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"I just wanted to say that I love you. I realized I hadn't said it in a while and...yeah. I love you, Pete."
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"I organized your closet today. Your clothes are officially color coded. I even bought you some new sweaters. I really think you'll like them. And I found this adorable Spider-Man lamp that I put on your desk. I can't tell if it makes it obvious. Maybe it does. Not that it matters—no one else comes in here anyway."
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She had been going through her suitcase of her stuff that she moved from the Tower to Peter's apartment when she found something that made her pause.
"I got you something, too. You open it first."
Adelaide tore open the wrapping paper. Inside the box there was a little brown teddy bear wearing a red and blue Spider-Man hoodie with the spider symbol on its chest. He looked adorable. Completely different from Maxwell, but adorable all the same. The two of them would look great together on her shelf.
"Press the button," Peter told her. Glancing at him questioningly, she pressed it.
"What kind of ghost has the best hearing?" the teddy bear said, "The eeriest."
At that, Adelaide laughed aloud, making Peter smile. That was kind of the reaction he had been hoping for.
"He'll say a new joke every time you press the button," Peter said, "You know, just in case you're feeling down and I'm not around to cheer you up." She smiled at him, hugging the bear close to herself.
"It's perfect, Pete. Thank you," she said, "Although, I doubt he'll be able to replace you. No one tells me stupider jokes than you."
"I try my best," he shrugged.
She pressed the button on the bear's chest, holding her breath.
"What do you call a man that irons clothes?" the bear said. There was a pause before the teddy bear answered himself. "Iron man."
She chuckled, staring at the bear. She ran her fingers over the Spider-Man logo on the bear's t-shirt.
Even when you're not here, you're still looking out for me, she thought to herself.
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"I made a playlist of songs I think you'll like. I wish you could hear them. They're nice."
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"How did you ever survive when Ben died? This is torture. Maybe you're stronger than me. Who am I kidding? Of course you are. I'm a mess right now and you'd probably be swinging around the city, helping other people. God, I miss having you with me. I love you so much. I feel completely useless without you."
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"Was the doorknob to your room broken when you moved in? It keeps getting stuck and I have to wiggle it loose. I might have to call someone to fix it tomorrow. Who fixes doorknobs? Are there special door repair people?"
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"I cleaned the entire apartment today. I bet you could never find anything in your room anymore. It's so clean. Don't worry though, I'll tell you where everything is."
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"I wish I could hold your hand again. I love holding your hand. And I love how you always rubbed your thumb on the back of my hand. I miss that. I miss you."
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"The nightmares have gotten so bad that Dr. Norwood had to give me pills to help me sleep. They work sometimes. I feel like I'm going crazy. What if she says I have to move into an asylum or something? I'm not mental. I just miss you. Nobody understands."
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"I found an old video on my phone of when you first moved in here. You and Ned were sledding down the stairs and Ned broke his arm. He was still laughing. God, you guys were crazy."
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"There isn't a minute when I'm not thinking about you. I don't think anyone's ever missed someone this much. Every single day is so hard. I never thought I'd ever have to go a day without you. It's just so hard, Pete...I wish things were different."
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SEPTEMBER
Peter was in pain.
He was curled up on his bed, shaking with sobs. Everything hurt. Every bone, muscle, and area of his body was aching. It was agonizing.
Adelaide was standing at the door, watching him with much discomfort. As if sensing her, he looked up from the bed. His face was covered in rolling tears and sickening bruises and his eyes were bloodshot.
"A-Ada?" he whispered. She took a step forward and then hesitated. He was looking at her with a desperate gaze, not being able to stop crying.
"Please," he whispered, "Help me."
She couldn't find the right words to say. He looked like he was dying. Something sick twisted inside her stomach. She swallowed.
"I-I need your help, Ada. Please," he begged, clutching his abdomen. He began coughing slowly and then urgently. He bent over the side of the bed, coughing up blood. Adelaide winced. He rested his forehead on the edge of the bed.
"I don't feel so good," he croaked, "Please Ada, I don't wanna go."
"Pete," she whispered shakily, reaching out to him and then hesitating. He coughed up more blood and then groaned, clutching his stomach. She began to cry and fell onto the floor beside the bed.
He looked up and their eyes met.
"I...love you," he whispered feebly, touching her cheek lightly.
Adelaide looked down at her hands as a wisp of fire burned up her arms. Her eyes widened at the sight. Her arms were being burned from a fire inside her veins. She screamed in pain, clutching her arms to her chest.
"I really love you," he said. The fire traveled up her arms, sinking into her chest. Everything began to burn like hell.
"Stop," she begged, sobbing, "Stop saying that!"
"But I do," he whispered, "I love you. So much."
The fire screamed inside her veins. Her vision turned red, flickering. Her throat was aflame now. She couldn't breathe anymore. Her entire body was glowing a miserable red from the literal fire inside of her.
"Stop, please," she gasped, clutching her throat, "You're going to kill me!"
"I love you," he said again, "And I'll never stop."
Adelaide screamed, clawing at her skin desperately to put out the fire. It reached her head and began burning through her skull. Everything turned black and Peter disappeared. All she could hear over the flames in her head was his echoing voice.
"I'll always love you, Ada," he whispered to her.
Adelaide stopped struggling.
There was no use. It was too late. The pain was too much to bear. Every time he told her he loved her, it just got worse. She couldn't escape his love. She couldn't escape him. It was too late.
She looked into the black void, taking her last breaths as the flame slowly consumed her.
"I love you too, Pete," she whispered, "So much that it's going to kill me."
And then the flame claimed her last breath.
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"Hey, it's Peter. I'm probably busy right now—coming, May! Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! And Mr. Wrong Number, if this is you, can you please stop calling? I haven't seen your cat, sorry. Have a good day!"
"The voicemail box is full, please try again later."
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OCTOBER
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NOVEMBER
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DECEMBER
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JANUARY
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FEBRUARY
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A/N: yes, the last few months being blank are intentional. took a page out of stephanie meyer's book (pun intended) for that one to signify how depression can really make every day feel like it's just dragging on and all the days just blend into one and not nothing stands out enough for you to see things clearly anymore. and yes, the empty quote at the beginning is for the same reason. totally not from personal experience lol
also, next wednesday will be a double update! i'm going to florida for a week to visit disney world and universal and the beach and stuff so i thought i'd give y'all a bit of a gift too. i promise not every chapter of endgame is this depressing!
anyone else going back to the old chapters and rereading the chapters with peter in them because you miss him? just me? i miss writing him, writing them together. they were actually my favorite thing to write they were so in love 🥺
question: which book felt more depressing? book one or book two so far? this one does get worse, just a heads up
see you next wednesday with a double update!