Disappear

Ready

1st Person/Peter Parker POV: Location: ??, VT

I am damaged. Always were.
I am broken. Don't deserve to be whole.
I am gone beyond repair. Thank God.
The light is too much. You are weak.
My body has given up. Pathetic freak-show.
My mind has split, a million pieces, unwilling to be put back together. Good riddance.

Nobody wants you back. Please find me.
Mr. Stark hates you. I don't think you're wrong.
You won't get out with your life. I know.
Axel knows what he's doing. It's for the best.
Queen's mistake. They don't deserve my flaws.
If you come back, the cheers will stop and it will be worse than before. Make it stop.

I jolt awake, a brief clang of chains in a hauntingly quiet room. My breathing is heavy and desperate, quiet gasps of one who cannot get enough air despite the plenty of it. I know I won't last much longer; my normally advanced healing is nonexistent and the drip that has been in my arm for the past... I don't even know how many days... has completely run out of fluid. The needle now jabs into the crook of my elbow, my skin pinched around it in a desperate attempt to close the wound; it will hurt if I ever get it out.

I can't concentrate on anything, blood rushing into my ears at all times, creating a low and threatening rumbling to set off the high pitched ringing that hasn't ceased in, what feels like, days. My eyes wander the room in a squint at all times. I know the area like the back of my hand... or better know since I haven't seen them since I first was chained to this wall. All of the sudden my eyes lazily fall upon the black monitor in the corner, unmoving red light indicating its constant, emotionless recoding.

I take a breath and begin to talk.

"Hey. Peter here. I guess you already know that, if you're watching. If nobody comes to get me and I don't make it out, can you send this to those who I name? Please?" You won't get out, save your voice for a time you need it. Shut up.

The camera doesn't respond, giving no indication of hearing the desperation that peeks through my voice. The sounds that come from my throat are barely human, scratchy and inconsistent from unforgiving days of silence and screams. I begin once more, praying the notice goes out to the people I care about, not that they may return the affection.

"To Ned and MJ. I... I'm so sorry about this. You guys are my two best friends and... there's nothing I can do to repay you for all the kindness you've shown me, in each of your ways. MJ, you've been an incredible person to get to know, even through you call me a loser." I give a lazy half-smile to the camera, "Ned. My best friend. My guy in the chair. I can always count on you to cheer me up after Flash's... annoyance. Sorry that I won't be there in the same way for you guys, but... "I trail off, lost in thought until my brain reminds me to continue, "I'm sorry for bringing this onto you, I guess. Don't miss me too much. I love you both."

I take a deep breath and hold back the tears that threaten to spill over my eyes as I force my muddled mind to keep talking, "To May. I don't know if what they told me is true, but if it is then I'm sorry. If it's not, then you're in for a little bit of a surprise. Guess what... I'm Spider-Man!" I chuckle emotionlessly, eyes darkening from memories. "I know you told me to run away from that stuff, but... it's second nature. I have to help. Please don't put this onto yourself, okay? I know that you're probably going to blame yourself but it wasn't you; you're the best aunt that anyone could ever have. I lo- I larb you so so so much and will miss you dearly but hey, I get to see my parents again, yeah? I'll say hi to them and Uncle Ben for you. I'm sorry for getting you into this stuff and... I love you, okay? I love you. And, if what they are telling me is true, then...
Then I'll meet you on the other side."

The tears are freely streaming down my face at this point, occasional streaks of fire against my cracked skin. Where I have the liquid in my body to cry is beyond me, but I don't care. I need to get out one last goodbye.

"To Mr. Stark. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for disappointing you and making stupid decisions to get myself in trouble. You're my hero, Iron Man or not, and I'm so glad to have gotten to know you through my... internship. Although the media may not show it, you're one of the kindest people I've met in my life. You're so brave and willing to open your heart to an inexperienced teenager that has no business fighting with the worlds toughest heroes, but you believed in me. You've helped me in ways you don't even know about, I just wish I could repay you somehow. Like I said to May, please don't blame this on yourself. I know you, and this isn't your fault, okay? Thank you for everything you've done, but if I may ask one more favor?" I pause, unable to speak from the lump in my throat. "When I'm gone, look out for New York, will ya? Someone's gotta fight for the little guy. I don't care who it is or if it becomes a shared position, but someone watch out for my home.
It seems to attract trouble from everywhere and I just wanna keep the legacy going, ya know? Anyway, thank you for everything and I'm sorry I forced this upon you."

The tears have subsided, no more water is able to be spared from my dehydrated body.

My mind begins to spiral and I hear voices echoing around me, whispers of my past attempting to reconnect with my fractured mind. The world fades out of view, as if someone had taken the exposure setting in my occipital lobe and turned it up completely. It becomes loud; too loud to hear, to think, to breathe. I cannot escape the confines of my broken imagination conjuring painful memories; I'm pulled into flashbacks of my parents hugging me before waving from the car as they drive away, promises of returning soon crumbling with my soul; my aunt reassuring me her and Ben would take care of me as my innocent mentality shattered; the final, earth-shaking sound of a single bullet as it lodges itself inside my uncle's chest. The memories force their way into my brain and I am left gasping for air I cannot suck in.

It is quiet.
Everything is peaceful.
I can't feel anything.
I don't hurt anymore.
My vision is clouded by white.
Uncle Ben appears, two figures behind him.
He asks if I am ready to go.
I ask if I did a good job.
He only nods.

I am ready to go.

1st Person/Tony Stark POV: Glastenbury, VT

I'm stressing out. We're on our way to nowhere, Vermont. This town has a literal population of eight. Could it be anymore creepy? I'm just worried about Peter. He doesn't deserve this. No one does, but especially not him.

I receive an email from a classified address, and, thinking it's Fury, open it immediately.

There's one line of text and an attachment that hasn't yet downloaded.

Are you ready to see your son?

The video is...

It's loaded...

It's Peter.
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[1307 words]
These chapters keep getting longer and longer. Also, a consistent updating schedule? I don't know her. This is completely unedited and written in one go; if you have any grammatical suggestions please comment!
Any notes/criticism/complements (yeah right) are greatly appreciated.
Thanks again and adiós por ahora,
Aliyah