Irondad & spiderson One shots {open}

Darkness

*3RD POV*

Peter hadn't been Spider-man for over a month

He hadn't seen Tony for just as long.

He hadn't even had a home.

Almost two months ago, he failed May. He failed to save her. They were fucking robbers. He was good at stopping those, but he couldn't even save his own aunt from them. It was just like Uncle Ben...

After the day she's died, he'd stayed in his apartment and cried. He didn't know how long, he just remembers he would sob loudly in his bed, wishing she would just come into his room and tell him everything would be ok. He wanted her back.

Since that day, he had only known his dark room. It swallowed him up whole, with no mercy. It broke him down slowly, day by day.

Tony had called and texted him countless times, only for Peter to whimper pathetically and curl back into his bed. Tony wouldn't want to deal with this mess anyway. Why would he? Peter surely didn't.

The man had actually come over twice. The first time, he had only knocked and when he was met with no answer, he left. The second time, he used his keys to get in. As soon as Peter heard him walk in, he hid.

Everything was quiet after that but about two weeks, there was knocking at his door.

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

Another few knocks.

"I'm Mrs. Wescott and I'm a social worker. Peter are you in there?"

Shit they were going to take him away. They were going to put him in foster care. Peter couldn't do that, he just couldn't.

Peter may have been sad but he was fine on his own. He didn't need any help. Did he know the last time he ate? No, but he was perfectly fine where he was. It would just be better if May was there...

"Peter honey I'm going to need you to open the door." The woman's voice was soft and sympathetic, trying to coax him to open the door. It reminded him of May and how she would speak to him on a bad day, how she would pull him into a warm hug and whisper reassurances in his ear.

If he left his home, he wouldn't have anything of Aunt May left. Nothing of Uncle Ben.

If he opened that door, his life as he knew it was over. Then again, it was over already, wasn't it?

His decision made, Peter grabbed his suit, money, and a few other things, shoved them in a back pack, and quietly slipped out the window.

Since then, he'd been on his own in the streets.

He disabled the tracker in his suit and phone so Tony didn't find him. Then again, why would he even try?

Peter started to live in an abandoned motel. It wasn't too dusty and broken down. Peter had found a room with one bed and a leaky sink and decided it was fine.

He didn't leave a lot for food. Most of the time, he stayed inside and held an old picture of May and Ben close to his chest and cried until there were no more tears left to cry. Even when he couldn't cry though, the darkness was still suffocating him. He needed to breathe, please help.