the mistake

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Peter woke up the next morning to extreme pain and trouble breathing

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Peter woke up the next morning to extreme pain and trouble breathing. He wheezed, trying to figure out what happened. He turned his head to see Tony curled up in a chair. He coughed hard as anxiety swelled on his chest.

"Fuck," Peter wheezed, throwing himself out of bed. Using the wall to support himself, he stumbled to the bathroom (not before seeing Clint naked and sleeping by accident, which will now be forever burned into his brain). He tugged off his shirt to see his binder pressing into his rib cage. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He forced himself to take it off, sliding his shirt on immediately afterwards, trying to not look at his chest. He started crying again. This day couldn't get worse. He couldn't wear his binder and Tony would find out he's transgender and kick him out and Flash would mock him more and everything would go to shit. The worst part? He knew damn well not to wear his binder to sleep, but he became so paranoid Tony would already hate him he did it anyway. He wanted to slam his head on the wall. He pressed his back against the door, trying to help himself breathe better.

Deep breath in.

And out.

Deep breath in.

And out.

Deep breath in.

And out.

He started to examine his chest, thankfully no bruises or blood showing up. Just some trouble breathing. Thank god. He pulled on the water of the shower and checked his phone. 05:00. Good, no Avenger should be up for a while, right?

Peter undressed and slipped into the shower, avoiding looking down. He tried to wash himself quickly, seeing as running water helps him think and thinking for Peter isn't exactly the best thing. When he thinks the... bad thoughts come to play.

Like how he was never going to be a real boy.

And how his dad will never love him since he was never with him.

And how all of his other family is dead.

And how most of those deaths were all his fault.

Okay, that's enough shower, Peter thought, trying to snap himself out of a daze. He dried off as quickly as he could, wrestled with his binder to pull it over his damp chest, and took a few deep breaths, making sure it wasn't hurting him again. He smiled since he would be fine. The magic of showers. And, ya know, being bit by a radioactive spider. He tugged on his clothes from the day before.

A loud knock rang in the bathroom. "Thor, what the FUCK have I told about showering before me!"

"It's not Thor! It's Peter!"

"Oh, shit, sorry, kid!"

Peter exited the bathroom, towel thrown over his shoulders. The blonde man smiled. "Sorry about scaring you. Again."

"I-It's okay, Mr. Barton!" Would it be a good time to ask him to wear clothes while he sleeps? Before Peter said anything to embarrass himself, Clint locked himself in the bathroom.

Peter shuffled back to his room, ruffling his hair with the towel. He bumped open the room. He nudged Tony which made the older man scream. Tony clutched his chest, scared that he might have a heart attack despite the arc reactor planted firmly in his chest.

"Jesus Christ, kid, don't scare me like that!" Tony's eyes looked a bit frenzied.

"Sorry, Mr. St-Dad," Peter whimpered, cowering down. Yelling? Not his thing.

Tony's lips pressed into a thin line with worry. "It's okay, Peter. Just- try not to scare me again, alright?"

Peter nodded quickly. "D-Do you mind leaving so I can get dressed-?"

"Oh, yes! Sorry."

Tony slipped out of the room, letting Peter slip on his academic decathlon sweatshirt and jeans. He smiled softly at his reflection, seeing as he passed pretty well that day. He grabbed a comb and pushed his hair out of his face like his Aunt May used to always tell him to do-

Peter dropped the comb and ruffled his hair back into his eyes. He didn't need to have a depressed episode on the first day with his dad. He took a deep breath and plastered on his fake smile. Great.

He made his way down to where Tony showed him where the kitchen was. He stopped hearing harsh whispers coming from the room. Thank goodness for spidey-hearing.

"I don't give a shit, Steve! Don't you dare talk to Peter since I know you'll find a way to hurt that poor kid."

"Look, Tony, shouldn't I know the teen that living in our ho-"

"My house. And if Rhodey didn't like your best friend so much, you'd be kicked out in an instant. Now, fuck off."

Reminder: never get Tony Stark on your bad side, Peter thought. Peter accidentally bumped shoulders with the captain on the way out, but Steve's eyes were fixated on the floor, rimmed with light red and tears sprinkled in. Peter walked into the kitchen while Steve stormed up the stairs.

Only ten minutes later, Sam walked into Steve's room to see the taller man shoving his clothes hastily into a duffle bag.

"Steve- STEVE! What in hell are you doing?"

Steve turned to face his smaller friend, tears spilling down his face. "Moving out."

"Steve, what in- do you even have a place? Why are you doing this?"

"Tony looked me straight in the eye and told me, if you weren't dating Rhodey, and if I wasn't your best friend, he would have kicked me out of the tower a long time ago."

Steve could practically see the gears grinding in Sam's head. Sometimes, Steve wished his friends were a little worse at being friends.

"Steve, come on, I'll talk to him-"

"You don't get it!" Steve yelled, fists shaking as he gripped onto a shirt. "He doesn't want me here! I mess- no, I fucked up! Tony doesn't want me here, he isn't taking me back anytime soon, and I'm just torturing myself by being near him constantly! I-"

Steve fell back on the bed, curling in on himself. "I give up. I messed up everything me and him could have had."

Sam wrapped an arm around Steve. "It's gonna be okay, Steve."

Steve took everything bad he's ever said about his friends, they're absolutely amazing.

Word count: 1055

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