usm . story dump

Trapped [ ]

All right, this oneshot is actually inspired and based off of Colorless from Reticent Monsters ('cause that book is a timeless, flawless masterpiece which deserves more praise, because it's written by the one and only OfficialUSMWriter, the angst is so good).

I highkey struggled to write fluff this time so I'm writing more angst. And if you have read Reticent Monsters you most probably know where this is going. (:

So, I guess this is a fanfiction of a fanfiction (which I really hope turns canon ;w;)

Editing self: I just realised how redundant this part is, I'll probably make a better version of this when I learn to write, haha--

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White.

Everything was white.

Everything was just white.

No other colour... It was all just white...

It was like he was in a white empty void, with only himself occupying the space.

Talking to himself wasn't an option; it was so quiet that he had tried to kick things around to make any sound. His attempts were futile; he was far too faded to even make it slide a single milimetre.

It only infuriated him even more, driving him to want to scream. Just to listen to something to know that is wasn't trapped in a void.

Peter was going crazy; he hadn't seen another colour other than white, and at this point, he might as well go blind.

He needed to see some other colour. Hear something other than his own breathing. He even went as far as biting his gums just to see a different colour, despite not having the energy to hurt himself and make him bleed.

He hated that his arms were stuck to his back at that he couldn't scream just to calm himself down. No matter how hard he forced himself to utter a single noise or sound, the room was just silent.

It was so quiet that he could even hear the air wash by him.

It was slowly driving him crazy. He couldn't scream. He couldn't hear another sound. He couldn't see another colour. He would've just tried to sleep it all off, but was forever stuck in the reality that there was no escape. He wanted to roll over and accept his fate; he'll never end up making it out alive.

He'll stay here forever.

There's no one here to protect him.

No one to save him.

No one to make sure he's fine after waking up.

He missed actually seeing colour.

He missed having a voice.

He missed his family. Both of them. His aunt May and S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. No matter what, he misses them.

He wanted...

He wanted to run back to them all, and rest. But doing that would be a little difficult at the moment.

He hated waking up to seeing the bright, fluorescent lights shine upon him as if he was being interrogated the moment he awakened. He hated not being able to speak to himself to preserve any form of sanity, despite sounding crazy by even talking to himself. He hated not seeing his family again.

Lying down on the white ground, Peter started to contemplate everything that had been happening to him. A spider bite caused this all to happen. The thing that Peter thought helped him was ultimately his downfall. And he was going to die in this white room.

The hope that his team mates were going to find him was slowly fading, and he felt that they have given up. That Hydra had led them to a wild goose chase and that they have decided it was all over for him.

They probably found someone else to take charge.

He was fated to die.

Even the hoarse, unfamiliar voice in his head had agreed. Chanting "die" as if it were the first and only word in its vocabulary. It was even worse than the silence, because Peter just wanted to ram himself into the wall until he could see a splatter of blood, just to stare at something that isn't white. Maybe even to force a sound so forced and loud that he could actually hear something, even if it meant hurting himself.

At this point, there were no such thing as barriers. There was no point in hoping anymore; he was a lost cause. He was far too gone to even be found.

Hoping for being found and rescued was as frustrating as trying to get Nova to stop bickering, and that thought only made his heart ache more, knowing that he wasn't back in the safety of home, with his family.

He wanted to screech profanities and break out, but he was weak.

He was gone.

And there was no point in anything anymore.

There was no point in being alive anymore.

There was no point in even breathing when he was going to use up all the air in this damned room.

He was just going to die slowly, and history will forget him.

Perhaps... This was what was destined to happen. Perhaps he was supposed to feel the pain of those he hurt just by existing.

Maybe the spider bite was more of a curse than a gift. He knew he should've just hid away his power, but the selfless, heroic part of himself knew that straying away from being a hero was impossible. Inevitably, this would have happened.

Being a hero, asides from its perks, came with more downfalls. It's all part of the job description: "you save the world, but you, yourself, are going to be completely miserable".

It should've been a lesson he'd learned a long, long time ago.

And yet, he didn't listen.

Because it was inevitable.

Oh, my. He's repeating himself. Hehe... Hydra won. He's going mad. He's going crazy. They won.

Hydra won.

They really broke him.

He wanted to just stop existing, just to not feel anything anymore.

He stopped believing, because he's endured too much.

His will has broken, because he was weak, and the pain was too much to bare.

The voices, sounding hoarse and faded, screamed for him to just end himself, despite his weakened healing factor making that task a little difficult.

He got back on his feet, and attempted to get himself together. He wanted all of this to be a real long dream, but he knew he would never wake up.

He was trapped in this hell.

Of white.

Of silence.

Of dull pain.

Stuck here until they've really cracked him.

Until they've really finished toying with his already fragile mind.

He was left in the mercy of fate, and his future is looking bleaker the second he breathes.

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Inspired by OfficialUSMWriter