╔══•XXXVII•══╗

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Peter's pov:
I woke up in my bed the next day. I don't even remember how I got there. I look at the clock next to me. It's 8:33, I haven't got this much sleep in a really long time. I just lay in my room, staring at the ceiling as some thoughts fill my head. A knock on my door and Tony's voice snaps me back to reality. "Are you awake kid? We finish breakfast soon, you should come down" he says. Shit, how long have I been laying here? I look at my alarm. It's 9:10, I must've zoned out. I get up from my bed exhausted and dress up.

When I go down to have breakfast, I see Bucky and Natasha eating. I don't say anything, I'm too exhausted to do that and I guess that's how I grieve. "Please eat something," Nat says. I see eggs and bacon cooked on the counter. I grab a plate and get a small but enough portion so that it's not noticeable. At least I thought it will be enough, but Nat speaks up "Are you sure that's gonna be enough?" "I'll be okay," I say and I put some eggs into my mouth. It makes me want to throw up already, but I just swallow it instead. I know I'll need to get this out after but I continue to force the food into my body. I finish half of the plate struggling but I just can't eat more. I put my plate on the dishes and get going to go up to my room. Natasha already went into hers but Bucky stayed there, even though he had eaten all his food a while ago. "You need to eat Peter," he says with a dead serious face. "It's fine." I shrug my shoulders, trying to hide my anxiety. He just sighs and doesn't say anything.

I go immediately to the bathroom and throw up. Then I go to my room and lay down. I wonder if May's okay, up there with uncle Ben. God, I miss them so much. And it's all my fault. Everything is my fault. I couldn't help May. I killed her. I'm a very bad person. I'm a murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer. Matthew's voice echoes in my head. I shouldn't be alive. I should've died instead of her. I can never make this better, I deserve everything bad that will happen from now. I should've been there to protect her and save her. I should've paid more attention, she deserves to live, but I don't. Also, memories of May come back and it's so raw and fresh in me, it's so painful to relive those moments again.

My arm is itching already. I need it, now. I rush to my bathroom and dig out my box of blades. I lock the door and take one out. Without thinking I push it into my wrist. I feel a drop of something on my arm. I just realize I'm crying. But I don't care now. I just want to feel. Feel the sting, the pain, the blood. The peace, the quiet, the comfort. I make a few cuts on my arm. I don't even know why but I start crying even more then I feel the burn and a drop of warm blood running down my arm. I cut more and more, deeper and deeper, making my whole arm bleed out on the floor. I'm literally sitting in a pool of my own blood.

Steve's pov:
Tony just told us to get ready for training and I've got the task to tell anyone else who hasn't been there. It's just Clint and Peter who weren't there. First I go and knock into Clint's room, telling him to get ready. As soon as I finish my sentence he steps out of the room fully dressed and ready for training. I smile. He's always so on time. Then I make my way to Peter's room. As I'm about to knock on his door I hear soft and very quiet sobs. I don't knock this time. I try to say calmly "Hey Peter. We're going training if you wanna come." I hear Peter's slightly shaky and panicked voice answering, "Okay I'm coming......shit". I almost ask if he's okay but I decide to leave it alone and ask him about it later.

Peter's pov:
I jump as I hear Cap's voice from behind my door. I cut a little too deep but I don't realize until I answer and I assume he goes away. I see the deep cut in my arm bleed over everything, "shit" I whisper. I try to put a bunch of toilet paper on it but it bleeds through it way too quickly. Did I hit a vein? I think. I don't find any bandages in the bathroom. I don't know what to do. I'm panicking. I can't go out of here like this, I can't let them see it. The panic locks my brain down. I can't think but it's still bleeding everywhere. I'm even getting dizzy, I have to do something. Or I could just stay here and bleed out. I keep thinking about this for a few minutes but as I'm getting way too dizzy, I decide to do something. I sigh. I can't do anything else now. "Hey, Friday. Could you call just Bucky here?" I say shakily. "Of course Peter. He'll be here in a second". Bucky arrives knocking on my door. "Hey, Peter. Are you okay? Friday said you needed me." "Y-yes I do. But please don't freak out.." I stand up and unlock my bathroom door.

Bucky's pov:
My eyes widen as I open the door. I see Peter and his cried-out eyes. But my eye mostly stops at his deeply cut and bleeding arm. "Give me the blade Peter," I move closer carefully, knowing he's not stable at all. He looks at me, hesitating for a second but he hands me the blade eventually. "Shit, what happened Pete?" I say as I kneel down next to him, trying to stop the bleeding. "I-I just. It's just bleeding too mu-ch and I don't know what to do. I know it's my fault I'm sorry. Please help." he panics. "Hold on Peter, you're speaking too fast. Nothing is your fault I promise. Second of all, I don't think I can stop the bleeding, it's going everywhere. We need to go to the med bay to Bruce. I know you don't want to, I'm sorry" He sighs, "Just please don't tell Mr. Stark, " he says quietly. I don't tell him anything but I know I'll have to talk about this with Tony. He's like a father to him, he needs to know.

Just the typical sad marvel thing /PeterWhere stories live. Discover now