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Peter was sitting on the edge of a building, late one night. It was cold out. He didn't care. He didn't feel it anyway. He felt numb. Like nothing mattered anymore. He looked down to the streets of Queens, observing its people. Each one of them has their own life. It's weird to think about. Peter wishes he could trade lives with someone down there. They must be so careless, so free.
He neither felt careless, nor free. He felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Like it was his responsibility to save everyone, but who was there to save him?
He looked at the stars, even though they were barely visible. “Stupid lights everywhere” he thought to himself. He misses the lake house when he's not there. He usually stays with Tony on the weekends. He loves playing with Morgan, helping Pepper in the kitchen and tinkering with Tony in his garage. He loves being a normal teenager. Loved.
He doesn't see the point of living anymore. It's like days blend together. Everything passes in a daze. School, patrol, the long car rides with Happy to the lake house. He used to chat with him about school and what not. Nowadays he sits quietly. He just can't muster up the energy to open his mouth. He knows Happy is worried about him. He can see him looking in the rear view mirror, sending him concerned glances. He just doesn't care enough to do anything about it.
And then there is the cutting. It wasn't supposed to happen. The first time was an accident. He got injured on patrol. A mugger cut his arm with a knife. It wasn't life threatening by any means, but for the first time in months, Peter felt something. The stinging sensation was welcome for a change. He relished it and needed to find a way to feel it again. So he began using his pocket knife to make shallow cuts on his thighs and upper arms. Make it so he could still wear a T-shirt and shorts without anyone noticing. The shallow cuts got deeper as time went on. He would sit in the bathtub in his tiny Queens apartment with a razor blade. He figured out those were sharper than his knife so he could easily go deeper and deeper. He would sit in the tub for up to an hour at the time, watching the little rivers of blood trickle down his arms and legs. When he was done he would start the shower and clean out the wounds. May never noticed. She worked long shifts to support the both of them financially. Peter often felt like a burden because of this. His aunt would be better off without him.
Peter wasn't even wearing his suit right now. Just his web shooters. He didn't feel like going on patrol tonight. He stuck his hand in his pocket and felt around for the joint he rolled earlier that evening. He knew he shouldn't be doing drugs, but once again he just didn't care enough. Besides, he needed that little push if he was gonna do what he had planned.
He lit the joint with the lighter he grabbed from his other pocket and took a hit. He started coughing almost immediately, the change from cold air to warm smoke being too much for his lungs. With every hit he felt himself caring less and less about all his problems. Why was he up here again?
Right. He was going to jump. At least that's the plan. He even wrote a note and left it on his bed for May to find.
Dear May, it read.
First of all, I want you to know that I love you very much. The decision I made had in no way anything to do with you. You probably couldn't have stopped me, so please don't feel guilty. I'm broken, I have been for a while. You'll be better off without me. You won't have to work as much and you will have more time to spend with people who are actually worth it.
Will you check up on Tony every once in a while. You two can keep each other company.
I'm very sorry it had to end this way.
Love, Peter <3
Peter felt a tear fall down his face. He knew it was time. If he waited any longer he would chicken out, so he got up on his feet and looked over the edge once more. Surely this had to be high enough, even to kill Spider-man. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.
For the first time in a long time he felt free. He closed his eyes and smiled. He felt the wind on his face, drying all his tears. He could hear the traffic getting clearer as he came closer, he could also hear something else. The thrusters from the Iron man suit. He opened his eyes to see Tony rapidly approaching him. Before he knew it he was in Iron man's arms, being carried back to the same roof he jumped off of only seconds ago.
Tony set him down on the roof, stepped out of his suit and hugged Peter tightly. Peter began to cry. Harsh sobs wracked his body. His knees buckled and Tony helped him to the ground.
“It's alright bambino, I got you, you're safe.”
They sat there like that for a while until Peter's crying quieted down. He looked up only to see that the older man's eyes were also red and watery.
“H-how did you f-find me?”
“Your aunt found the note and called me. I tracked your phone and flew over as quickly as I could. I barely made it in time.”
Was May's shift over already? He must have been sitting on that roof longer that he thought.
“I'm sorry…”
“Don't apologize. I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. God, how did I not notice you were feeling like this!?” He let out a frustrated grunt.
“I'm sorry Pete. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't come to me. I'm sorry I didn't see… see how bad things were. I wanna be there for you, but you have to let me in.”
Peter started crying for the third time that night. “I want to let you in but, it's just- it's all too much and I don't even know where to begin.” Another sob escaped his throat.
"Shhh, it's okay, we'll figure it out together. I love you Pete, and I don't know what I would do without you.”
I love you too Mr. Stark.