25: Wounds

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Trigger warning: Suicide attempt, death


Peter wrapped my ribs and leg in guaze, and decided his best choice was to just "slap a bunch of bandaid's on my face."

We went outside to the roof and slept for the rest of the night there. I had to let my wings dry, and Peter had to watch me, make sure I didn't have another episode.

At one point, I woke up around four AM. The sun was just lighting up the sky, and it woke me up with it.

I didn't know what I was thinking, I just stepped closer to the edge of the building.

Just as I was about to fall off, a web stuck to my back and yanked me onto the ground. Peter woke up after I got up and thought I was going to kill myself.

"Max." He said.

"What."

"What are you doing."

I shrugged.

"Max, come on." He pulled me into a hug. "It's okay."

I didn't move.

"I know sometimes it might feel like that's the only way out, but it's gonna be okay." He whispered.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." He put his hands on my shoulders, looking at me eye to eye. We were about the same height.

"I'm fine."

"Let's go inside," Peter suggested.

I didn't move.

"Max, come on. You're not staying out here alone."

"I'm fine."

"No. We're going to go back inside, you can go to your room, or the commons area, whatever you want. But I can't leave your side." He protested. 

"I'm fine," I repeated, throwing his hands off my shoulders.

"No, you're not fine!" Peter shouted. "You just tried to kill yourself! I am not leaving you until you can genuinely tell me you're okay!"

"I'm fine!" I shouted in response.

"Max, come inside." He said. "I will literally pick you up and carry you if that's what it takes."

"No."

"Max." He warned.

I stepped back.

He shot a web at me, pulling me towards him. I stumbled on the concrete ground.

"We are going inside." He said. He wrapped one arm around my shoulders, forcing me to bend my wings.

"No."

"Please, Max." He said. "It's going to be okay."

I didn't reply, just allowed myself to be carried into the elevator by Peter.

He set me down on the floor, pushing the button for our rooms.

I didn't speak.

"You need to get a pair of pants," Peter said. "To cover your leg."

"They're going to see my face."

"We'll just tell them you tried to hug a cactus."

"I'm not stupid."

"Fine, you tripped and scraped up your face."

"Fine."

We entered my room. Peter watched me as I pulled a pair of sweatpants from my drawer. He turned around as I changed.

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