Peter Parker One Shots

Epilepsy

Request from juiceylemons tadaaaaaaaa

⚠TW!!!⚠ mentions of abuse, an ed (eating disorder), and sucicide attempts (and seizures, ‘cause duh)

This one is packed! Its really long and kinda up and down. I made Peter in this shot kinda like me, except the abuse and full eating disorder. It was actually fun to write, and when i was writing the woods scene, i wanted to cry cause i live where there's basically no trees at all unless you drive to a place where there is, and I hate cars, so I just kind of die.

Anyways, enjoy!
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Peter woke up feeling dizzy. Fortunately for him, it was a Sunday, so he didn’t have to worry about going to school. Though school would have been a welcome distraction from the argument he and Tony had had the night before. It hadn’t been anything big, just Tony commenting on Peters’ lack of eating as much as he should, and Peter getting defensive. To be fair, Peter always got defensive when he felt criticized. It was just part of him after being bullied and abused for years. Tony hadn’t taken finding out that May was abusive too well, but when that argument was over, Peter found himself living in the tower. It was nice, if he was being honest. Everyone took care of him and respected his boundaries, and he appreciated it a lot.

Peter groaned and turned over in his bed, burying his face in his pillow, trying to make the world dark. It worked to an extent. No sooner had be hidden when he was being nudged by something warm and wet. Peter sighed, swatting at Tessa, hoping she would let him sleep more.

His hopes were ignored. Tessa kept poking at him, whining and yipping until Peter removed his face from the pillow. The dog immediately relaxed, curling into a ball by Peters’ stomach. Peter sighed again, letting his hand drift between her ears, scratching softly.

Peter loved Tessa, no matter how much he insisted he didn’t need her. See, Tessa was Peters’ service dog, and as much as Peter hated to admit it, she did help. A lot. She was there when he got sad, the kind of sad that ended with him back on suicide watch again. When he didn’t want to get out of bed and get food (on the days when he even wanted food at all), she would bound on out to the kitchen and grab a granola bar from the cupboard they had tied a string to so she could open it. She would sit with him when he was still awake at three am, and she would warn him when he was going to seize.

Peter hated a lot of things, but epilepsy was in the top three. Maybe even in the number one spot. He hated it. He hated Tessas’ cues, hated the feeling of laying on his back waiting for the seizure to start, hated the drowsy feeling after, the scared, pitiful looks from anyone around. Granted, Tony had gotten better at not giving him The Look, but sometimes his face slipped, and Peter could see the pity.

Tessa nudged him again, and Peter sighed.

“What? What’s up, Tess?”

Tessa yipped again, jumping off the bed, grabbing her leash. Peter smiled at her attempt to get him out of bed. He shook his head.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, standing slowly. The dizziness hit him hard, and he braced a hand on his nightstand, waiting for it to pass. Tessa whined, pawing at his leg. Not the cue to lay down, just the cue to take it slow. Peter nodded once the wave passed and bent down, hooking the leash to Tessas’ collar.

They walked out of his room and down the hallway, heading to the stairs so they could go out the back door. He yelled a quick, “Tess and I are going on a walk!” to whoever was in the kitchen and walked down the steps, Tessa looking back at Peter every once in a while.