Irondad Oneshots

hold on, i still need you

Requested by SlytherinTimeWarlock and istanstanley

TW: self-harm and suicide attempt and alcohol abuse (tho not very graphic at all)

Based off the song: Hold On by Chord Overstreet 

Post-Endgame 

*

Nightmares riddled his every sleeping moment and his every waking moment, too. Hell on earth. He had lost everything. His parents, Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and now Tony. He had nothing left.

He had nothing.

Just emptiness and darkness. His life, an abyss.

He went into the bathroom and stared at the boy in the mirror. Still a child, but far from it if you count the decades of pain stored in tired eyes.

He looked about as messy as he felt. A mess of probably greasy hair from having gone one too many days without a shower, strands of hair in every direction. Pimples on a pale face like mountains on a landscape. Picked at scabs leaving marks of dried blood. Dark circles beneath his eyes like someone has stepped all over him, leaving behind dark shoeprints and sunken skin. An emptiness behind dark eyes like an abyss hiding too much underneath for someone so young.

Being a teenager is supposed to be one of the best times of your life. It's the time where you're meant to feel free and happy. Like sticking your arm out the window of the car while screaming along to your favourite songs with your friends. Like jumping fences to break into playgrounds in the middle of the night. Like staying up till the early morning hours, tipsy enough to feel the buzz and sharing your deepest secrets with your close friends.

It's meant to be something more than this.

It's not supposed to feel like you're wading through solidifying concrete. To feel like you've gone swimming, but someone's grabbed your ankles and has dragged you out to sea, water filling your lungs and you scream but no one can hear you. To feel like you're in a vehicle flying towards a brick wall and you try to swerve or hit the brakes, but there's nothing to do but slam straight into the wall. To feel like this.

Like someone has carved a hole in your chest and you can feel it bleeding everywhere, and there's so much blood, and you're sure you're going to die, so you ask people for help, to save you, but everyone says that you're fine. That they've had worse happen to them and they were able to stitch up the wound and move on. That it's fine and that you're overreacting.

Like you've fallen down an abyss that's nothing but darkness and pointy rocks and nothing but cold empty air below. And everyone above you is just laughing and telling you to just climb up. But every time you grab at the sides, your hands bleed and the gravity gets heavier and you can't possibly climb out because the light is getting harder and harder to see at the top of the abyss.

*

Morgan lost a father.

But she had Peter. She had a big brother who took care of her and loved her and told her stories of her wonderful superhero dad.

She had Peter.

What more could she ask for?

*

The first year passed in a blur of alcohol and dissociating and sleeping the hours away and throwing all of him into projects to keep the thoughts at bay.

The second year passed in a blur of pain and panic attacks and locking himself in the bathroom to keep Morgan blissfully unaware of his worsening state.