TW: bullying, self-harm, suicide
Peter never truly understood why people always said, "Do not meet your idols."
To him, meeting his idols would be the coolest thing ever. Who wouldn't want to have the opportunity to brag about meeting their idols, especially when they were the Avengers?
So, when Peter first met the Avengers as Spider-Man, he was absolutely over the moon. He was right. It was the coolest thing ever. They treated him extremely well, and he felt like he was a part of their dysfunctional family even though he had only met them for a few minutes.
However, things began to go downhill after Aunt May fell victim to a robber and passed away. Distraught, Peter had stumbled into Stark Tower with his mask on, demanding to see Tony Stark. Minutes later, the billionaire had agreed to let Peter stay with them for as long as he needed to, for which Peter felt immensely grateful.
During his first day at Stark Tower, Peter had removed his mask and revealed his identity to the Avengers, feeling like he at least owed them that much for letting him stay. One can only imagine his shock when the Avengers erupted into laughter upon seeing his face.
"A kid?" Steve Rogers blurted out while laughing. "The criminals are being taken down by a goddamn kid?"
Peter awkwardly slipped away after that, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Thinking back, he found himself wishing that they'd stuck to merely laughing and mocking him, for less than a week after that, he'd officially become the team's punching bag.
Often, bruises decorated Peter's arms and chest from where Natasha accidentally hit him a little too hard or from where Wanda misaimed and sent a ball of energy flying at him. Whenever Peter brought those incidents up, the Avengers would instantly deny them, telling him that he was coming up with things. Peter stopped speaking to them three weeks ago.
He wondered how long it would take for them to notice if one day, he just disappeared.
~~~
As Peter stepped into Stark Tower after a bad day of school, he mentally prepared himself for another day of assault.
"Welcome back, Spider-Wimp. I've informed boss about your arrival." FRIDAY announced after Peter tapped his ID card at the entrance.
"Oh, so now it's wimp," Peter muttered to himself, unamused by Tony's name-calling.
"Look who's back," Clint drawled as he pointed at Peter, who'd just stepped out of the elevator. Judging by the dark looks on their faces, the Avengers were not in a good mood at all. Normally, that would have terrified Peter, but after dealing with Flash at school, he was not in the mood to deal with anymore bullshit.
Ignoring all of them, Peter turned and headed for his room, only to be stopped by Natasha who dragged him back by his hoodie and slammed him against a wall.
"Do not ignore us like that, is that clear?" she spat out in disgust. "We let you live here. The least you could so is show us some respect."
Not wanting to provoke Natasha or anyone else, Peter nodded curtly. Natasha released her hold on him and he quickly slipped into his room, locking the door behind him. Deciding that he needed to do something to distract himself, Peter changed into his suit and leapt out of the window in his room, swinging through the streets of New York.
After stopping three robberies and a murder, Peter decided to call it a day. With adrenaline still pumping through his system, Peter swung back home, only to find himself outside his old apartment building in Queens. His muscle memory had brought him back there, and Peter felt all of the adrenaline leave his system as he looked into the window leading to the living room of his old apartment.
For a moment, he thought that he would see May there, that she would welcome him in and give him a warm hug, telling him that she was okay, that everything would be okay. But that remained a fantasy, and what Peter saw instead was a father playing tic-tac-toe with his daughter. Peter gulped, jealousy and sorrow swelling in his chest and burning like twin flames.
Now conscious of his actions, Peter swung all the way back to Stark Tower and took a quick bathe before heading to the dining room for dinner. He ate in silence as the Avengers chattered away happily, seemingly unaware of his presence.
After dinner, Peter was putting away his dishes and Steve sneered at him, ordering,"Go to your room. We don't want to see you for the rest of the night."
Peter nodded and left the room as the muffled chattering resumed behind him. He returned to his room and headed for the bathroom to wash his face and freshen up. After all, he still had homework to complete.
As Peter splashed water onto his face and stared into the mirror, he paused. He had sunken eyes that were surrounded by dark eye circles, and he was so thin that his cheekbones were prominently protruding out. Peter chuckled wryly. He really was pathetic.
Before Peter knew it, he had picked up the razor lying next to the sink and held it against his left forearm that was lined with barely healed scars. He didn't know when he started this self-mutilation, but he didn't want to stop either. It was like a drug. Without it, Peter felt disoriented and less like himself. He needed it, and it scared him. But he deserved it, didn't he?
"Just one cut," Peter whispered to himself, pressing the razor into his skin and dragging it across his forearm. "Just one."
One turned into two.
Two turned into three.
And three turned into ten.
Peter stared at his arm that had just turned a crimson red as blood poured out profusely from his wounds. Peter felt himself starting to panic. He'd never cut that deep before, and Peter found himself wondering if he'd die. Oddly enough, the panic was soon flooded away by a sense of serenity.
He was going to die.
The pain was going to end.
In his delirious state, a small smile graced Peter's face. Before the darkness finally consumed him, Peter wondered again how long it'd take for the Avengers to notice if he just disappeared.
~~~
"Boss, Spider-Wimp's health stats are low," FRIDAY's voice interrupted the cheerful conversation in the kitchen. "He is losing blood at a dangerously fast rate."
"He's probably on patrol or something. He can handle it," Tony replied nonchalantly before re-initiating the conversation.
"He's actually in his bathroom, sir, and he is unconscious," FRIDAY interjected again.
"Fine," Tony groaned. "I'll go check on him if that gets you to shut up."
Frustrated at having been pulled away from the fun in the kitchen, Tony trudged towards Peter's room and violently knocked on the door. When there was no response, Tony pushed the door open and entered with an angry look on his face.
Heading for the bathroom, Tony knocked again and called, "If you don't open this door, I'm breaking in, Parker."
Once again, Tony was met with silence. Sighing, he order FRIDAY to unlock the door and stepped into the bathroom immediately.
The strong scent of blood greeted him. Tony cringed slightly but and was about to step out to get rid of the stench when he caught sight of Peter's limp form on the ground. Tony turned rigid, his muscles tensing up and his throat tightening.
"FRIDAY," he rasped out, "get Bruce to prepare for surgery in the med bay now."
"On it, boss," FRIDAY agreed. Tony distantly heard FRIDAY announcing something in the kitchen, but his focus was still on Peter. Carefully, he reached down, placing one arm under Peter's legs and using the other to support Peter's back. He was surprised by how light Peter was — he was way lighter than any boy his age should be, and that worried Tony slightly.
Mindful to not make any sudden movements so as to prevent Peter's arm from bleeding any more, Tony hurried to the medical bay, painfully aware of the trail of blood behind him.
Fortunately, Bruce was already there by the time Tony reach. Tony hurriedly set Peter down on the surgical table and briefly explained the situation to Bruce. As Bruce began working on closing the cuts on Peter's wrist, Tony flinched at the awfully peaceful look on Peter's face.
For the first time in his life, Tony saw just how much their actions had affected Peter, who was just a child no older than sixteen.
Tony's eyes flickered towards the blood seeping through his suit. It wasn't his blood, but it still terrified him. He'd seen a lot of death during his time as an Avenger, but he'd never thought that somebody as small as Peter could store that much blood.
Still staring at his bloodied suit, Tony suddenly realised that Peter had never once bothered fighting back.
~~~
"He's stable now. He's probably going to be out for a while because of the blood loss and also because of a minor concussion. I suspect that he knocked his head on the sink when he fell to the ground. You can see him if you want," Bruce told the Avengers before going to check on Peter again.
The team of superheroes, however, did not move. They'd been in that position ever since Tony told them what happened. The last time they'd been at such a loss was when they were fighting Ultron.
"I... we fucked up, didn't we?" breathed Wanda, her eyes a dull red. "Oh, my God, we were so bad to him for no reason..."
Natasha had a comforting hand on Wanda's shoulder, but she didn't say anything, knowing that she had no right to.
"I'll go in and see him," Tony whispered, getting up slowly.
"You should get a change of clothes first, Tony," Natasha suggested. "It'll do no good if he wakes up to a sight of you in a bloodied suit."
"Right," Tony agreed. "I'll do that."
The solemn atmosphere did not dissipate for ages. It wasn't until Bruce told them to get some sleep that they finally moved from their seats and back to their rooms to get some rest.
Tony, however, entered the medical bay, taking a seat on the chair next to Peter's bed. He gently grabbed onto Peter's uninjured hand and lowered his head tiredly. Minutes later, Tony had succumbed to sleep, still clutching onto Peter's hand like it was a lifeline.
When Peter woke up days later, he was greeted by Bruce who had a smile on his face.
"You're awake," said Bruce. "We were worried."
"Worried," Peter echoed numbly. "Right, er..."
He hesitated when he looked down and realised that Tony was asleep next to him. Bruce chuckled softly upon receiving a look of confusion from Peter.
"He hasn't left your side for the three days you were unconscious for," Bruce explained. "I'll go grab some food. Just yell if you need anything."
Peter nodded as he glanced back at Tony, unable to suppress a smile.
Maybe things were going to be okay.
They noticed.
word count: 1878 [ edited : 26 march 2022 ]