Multi Fandom One Shots And Short Stories

(TASM2- PARKSBORN) Use Me (Part 4)

I really pulled all the stops for this one, dudes. There's so many switching points of view and it was so difficult to write! I really hope you guys like it!

TW- mentions of noncon, serious depression, stress, nightmares and panic attacks, miscarriage, mentions of death, manipulation, self-hate, victim blaming, Tiffany should have a warning all her own. There's probably more that I'm forgetting, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Word count: 3734

The week leading up to the trial was a nightmare. Peter was stressed out of his mind and finding it increasingly difficult to balance his life, Spider-Man, and Harry all on top of each other. He knew that Harry would always win out in the end, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel guilty about not doing his regular patrols around the city.

Peter had taken to texting Gwen when things got to be to much. He liked to think she knew a bit more about the situation than he did, even if she'd only been a bystander and he had been in the thick of it. There was just something about her natural empathy that made him want to lean on her more.

May was also trying to balance a lot and it was showing. She'd developed a new habit of coming home after her shift at the hospital and crashing on the couch, not even making it to her room before she passed out. She started bringing home more takeout, saying she just didn't feel like cooking that night. Peter could see through her: she was just as exhausted as the rest of them.

But, out of all of them, Harry was taking it the worst. Ever since that night, the night this had all happened, the commanding presence his father had instilled in him had shrunk into something Peter could barely define as living. He wasn't eating anymore. He had no energy to even get out of bed, let alone attempt a conversation. Peter could see, even as it was happening, that Harry was slowly shutting everyone out. He didn't talk unless it was short one-or-two-word answers, he spent most of his time curled up in their shared bedroom, and his phone hadn't been charged in days. He just laid there, alone in the dark, starring at things only he could see.

Peter was worried sick about him. How could he not be? He'd loved him since they were little boys and that love had never faded. Now, to see the boy he loved trapped inside his own personal nightmare? If it was hell on Peter, he couldn't imagine the kind of internal anguish Harry was going through.

(๑•﹏•)

The trial was 7 days away.

Peter had woken that morning to a terrified scream ripping through the apartment. It was normal, at this point, and Peter detested how accustomed he'd grown to it.

Another night meant another nightmare and another nightmare meant another panic attack. Peter had anxiety, he always had. If you thought about it, his spidey-sense was basically just ridiculously heightened anxiety! He'd never been thankful for it before this, but now he thanked whatever deities were out there that he knew just how to calm someone down.

It took a while before Harry would let him touch him, but when he did he leaned into his side heavily. Tears were tracing thick lines down his cheeks and he was biting his lip to keep from crying out loud.

Peter pulled him closer and rocked them, waving Aunt May away when she cracked their door open to check on them.

"We're okay," he whispered to her.

Her brows were pinched and her face was worried, but she gave a sad smile and nodded before shutting the door behind her. She loved Harry as if he were her own son and it wasn't any easier on her to see him hurting like this than it would have been if it was Peter.

Peter soothed his partner back to sleep with little comforting words and kisses. He held him in his arms, still rocking even after he'd fallen asleep. He didn't realize that he did it, most nights. He just kept on rocking, needing to do something to keep his mind off the hopeless feeling that was encroaching on his thoughts every day.