𝐈𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

Chapter 5

Peters hands fidgeted with the end of his suit, his senses were overloaded with so much noise and feelings. The lights were way to bright, they gave the headache he already had a worse feeling. His hands were shaking along with his body, he was to stressed for any of this.
Even worse, what was his aunt going to say about this? It wasn't her fault, no he didn't want her to have to worry about him. He closed his eyes, it was to bright in here and he just wanted to scream.

"The lights...please.." Petter mumbled with a small groan.
Bruce was quick to turn the lights down to a duller setting. Moments after Tony entered to room, a look of unsure on his face.

"What was that about?" Bruce questioned, but Tony was quick to answer.
"Nothing, a stupid deal...seller...thing.." His eyes wondered over to Peter, who looked about as run down as if he had ran across the world and back without stopping. And he was sure that's what he must have felt like too.

Tony shoved the phone into his pocket, rubbing his forehead slightly.

"Kid you should probably get some rest." Tony commanded more than suggested.

Peter, hunched over as he sat, shrugged as if he wasn't truly listening.

"Kid."
Once again he didn't really respond.

"Peter?"
He looked up slightly, his attention had finally been caught. He had been too caught in his own world of thinking.

"I can get you some of extra clothes, there's an extra room where you can rest. Alright?"

Peter only responded with a small nod, wincing as he moved. Pain shot through his body, so he went back to his hunched position. Tony headed off to go up to another floor and get a pair of clothes for Peter to change into so he could hurry and get some rest. He felt horrible for the kid, the news he had received. He didn't know what to do with it. He figured he would just tell him later. If he could.

Bruce had helped Peter up to the spare bedroom they had for him, Tony had set the clothes in there for him. Bruce had offered to help him get changed but Peter refused. He said he could get himself dressed. He didn't like getting fed these things like a baby, already this was enough for his stomach to churn and feel sick.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed and slowly peeled the suit off himself. He ran a hand down his leg, letting it run over the scars and cuts. He winced once more, hurriedly pulling the pajama pants and plain shit on so he didn't have to look at the self inflicted pain any longer. But the shirt was short sleeved. He didn't like that. He laid back and crawled into the larger blanket set into the bed. He nestled up in a small ball and closed his eyes tight. He felt so drained of everything. All he wanted to do was sleep.