Spider-Man One Shots

burb

A/N: ⚠️ tw: self harm, depression.

This is an old draft, and a bit of a short chapter but here you go.

So I have a question. Are any of you directioners?

Follow up, if you are a directioner, are you a Larrie?

Follow up to the follow up, if you're a larrie, do you read larrie fanfiction?

Okay that's all, thank you for attending my questionnaire.

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Peter sat down at the table. His wrists ached with pain now. It was... Nice. Yes, it hurt, but at least he felt something.

"It's been a long time since the team has been together for dinner, with everyone so busy, I can't believe I'm saying this but it's nice to see you all." Natasha said, scooping out some potatos onto her plate.

Soon all the avengers were chattering loudly about their days apart, missions they went on, new scores on Mario Kart, all the usual things.

Peter, wasn't feeling too well. He felt really... Hot. So hot that it was unbearable, like he could just rip his skin off to cool down.

His head beat with pain.

It's fine, this is fine.

Just don't tell anyone. This is fine. This is what makes you feel right? So we have a solution to our problem. We don't need to ask for help. All the other avengers expirence way worse than us, and they all seem fine.

Peters vision wasn't the best. Every now and then things would smear together, especially if he moved his head to fast.

He tried to focus on his jagged, quiet breath over the noise.

There voices were becoming blurred and unclear.

Peter picked up his fork. It hurt his wrist.

He ate a bite of mashed potato, but that just made him want to throw up.

"Peter? You look really tired, you okay?"

Peter looked over to what might be Peppers voice. He didn't hear what she said exactly, but he heard his name, and everyone was looking at him.

"What?" Peter said trying to stabilize his voice so it didn't sound so exhausted.

"I said are you okay? You look tired." Pepper said with concern giving a glace at Tony.

"Oh yeah I'm fine... Just finals you know?"

Pepper nodded slowly.

"Um did you would excuse me, I have homework..."

Peter got up from the table quickly stabilizing himself, after become dizzy from the quick movement.

"Peter, you didn't eat anything!" Tony called after him.

"Had a big lunch, sorry, the meal looked delicious." Peter said and with that he closed his bathroom door.

He sat down on the floor. The world was going black, and before he knew it he passed out.

He woke up a few minutes later looking up to see Clint standing above him, with a look of horror on his face.

"I can explain! Here, close the door."

Peter closed the door, "What are you doing in my bathroom?"

"I um, came to see if you were okay but when you didn't answer I got worried... And then I found you passed out on the floor."

Peter sighed, "I'm fine. Trust me I'm just tired."

Clint shook his head, "Peter, you passed out! You are not fine! We need to get you to the doctor! Let me get Tony-"

"No!" Peter said quickly. Luckily there was one of his web shooters on the bathroom floor next to him, so he shot at Clint's hand, leaving Clint stuck.

"Then... Tell me what's going on. What's happening."

"Nothing. I told you I'm fine, I don't need a doctor."

Clint shook his head, "You expect me to believe you?! You look like you haven't slept in... In weeks! You didn't eat anything, you can't stand up without practically toppling over- Peter I'm worried about you. You aren't fine."

Peter got up, using all his might to not stumble as he walked toward Clint, "I. Am. Fine. Why can't you believe me?!" Peter slammed his hands down on the counter, causing him to wince.

"Peter." Clint said voice unsteady now.

Clint used his free hand to quickly push up Peters sleeve.

Peter hide his wrist quickly, but it was too late. He could see in Clint's eyes that he saw. He knew.

"Peter." Clint said, looking him in the eyes.

Peter gulped, "It's nothing."

Clint shook his head, "No. It's something. It's something that could end up killing you. We can't lose anyone else. We- we already lost so much. Peter, I want to help you."

Peter stood there for a moment before crumpling to the for and starting to cry, "Don't tell Tony. Please Clint, don't tell him.'

Clint cut his hand out of the webs, "I'm not going to. Listen we need to get you help. You know we have a therapist, for the avengers, there are people to help Peter."

"No one can know, please Clint, there's no reason-" Peter cried shakily.

"Shh, shh, Peter, it's going to be okay. I'm the only one who knows okay, and if you can stay clean we don't have to tell anyone else- but you're going to the therapist Pete. It'll help I promise, and doctor patient confidentiality, yeah?" Clint said, now on the floor comforting Peter.

Peter just kept crying into Clint's arms.

"Someday things will look up Peter, I promise you, okay?"

"Okay."

Later my gators 🐊