Chapter Text
It wasn’t always like this and he knew it.
There wasn’t always blood on his hands.
Not just others, but his.
Peter sat on the toilet seat in his bathroom. May was out on a mandated break from work, like she deserved. He was so happy that May was getting the things she worked so hard to have. And he had a rough day at school, with no one to turn to he found himself in the bathroom.
Before he became Spider-man he had a nasty habit, harming himself. Yet when he became Spider-man he felt that he might have a chance to work off his ‘debts’. And it did work for a while, helping keep the thoughts at bay while helping the people he could. But then it started piling up.
So now he longed for release and a way to pay for the things he wastes.
He let out a sharp inhale as he dragged the blade across his thigh, looking at it for a couple seconds until it started to bleed. Then he moved onto the next, following the same process until he couldn't find a clean space. He didn’t like his blades getting covered in blood, it corroded the blade and made it dull. He couldn’t have that now could he?
He released the towel he had been grabbing onto, and set the blade down. He looked down to his thigh, red streaks everywhere. He gently moved his shaky hands down to the wounds, pulling them each open further. When he was satisfied with his work he pulled up his pants, slightly wincing as the black jean texture rubbed into the open wounds.
He opened the door to the bathroom, snatching his phone off the counter. He unlocked his phone with slight ease as he sadly smiled at the lack of messages. He was stupid to even think anyone would care or notice. Instead of letting that ferment in his brain, his brain trailed to his new ‘project’. He knew that Mr. Stark has put monitoring devices throughout his home, but to get them to not report, that was his project.
He opened the door to his room.
“Hello Peter.” The AI boomed from his room. The main reason he wanted to start this project, to be able to move from the bathroom to his room. Without being reported that is.
“Hey, Karen.” Peter mumbled, slipping into his desk, pulling out his blueprints. He needed to make a small malware, something to go undetected by Mr. Stark, but still do its function.
“Your mood levels seem down, would you like support?” Karen asked, a small tab popping up on his computer of Mr. Stark’s direct email, like he didn't have the man's phone number.
“No thanks Karen, just a bad day at school, nothing some tinkering won’t fix, right?” He lightened his tone to not set the AI off. He had already adjusted her settings so if she scanned for injuries, she would just bypass the cuts anywhere on his body.
It was quiet after that and Peter took that as his sign to start working, after about an hour it was finally complete. He could finally break down in his room, where he was comfortable. He opened Karen's file on his computer. He had sworn to Mr. Stark that he wouldn't do anything without his permission, but he didn't care, what's another broken promise?
He slipped his little chip into his household ‘watch’ system, conveniently connected to Karen’s system in his room. He watched the screen flicker for a moment before it took. He let out a pleased hum, happy with his success. He glanced over to his phone, still no messages. He opened the text messages app, thumbing through Happy’s texts first. Though it was more Peter talking to himself, with the hope that the man would respond. The same thing was similar in the text threads with Mr. Stark. Lonely radio silence.
It's no wonder they don't talk to me, I’m so annoying.
I think, at this point, they would rather me be dead than texting them non-stop.
He ran his hand through his honey curls, letting out a pained exhale. He slammed his upper half against the table in frustration.
What ever made you think they liked you?
You know they don't want you around, so why do you still try?
His thighs and arms burned, but one thigh was already bloody from moments prior, and the other thigh was healing from a few days before. He raised his head, looking down at his arms with a groan.
You know no one with care if you do. You’re just a reliability to them.
He let the words swirl in his head, a dangerous smile appeared on his face. He rolled his chair back to his bed, grabbing one of his blades out.
It was a good time to test his work.
“Peter, your heart rate and respiration rate are drastically increasing, showing signs of clinical stress. Are you sure you wouldn't want to contact someone?”
“I’m positive.”
“I understand.”
Peter smiled, normally Karen wouldn’t ask about contacting, she just would. Which definitely caused some false alarms, that Mr. Stark would just send one of his suits for collateral. This meant it was working, now she wouldn’t contact anyone without explicit instruction to.
He let out a huff of relief as he grabbed a silky textured blanket, gently rubbing his fingers against it before tightly grasping it. He held his blade in his hand as the words circled his brain.
You owe your life to these people.
You don’t deserve the air you breathe.
Life would be easier for everyone if you weren't here, or anywhere, anymore.
Everyone pities you.
You’re unnatural.
You’re too much of a monster.
He dug the blade into his arm, dragging it across with precise speed. The blade pulled at hair, split the skin, and dug deeper, but Peter had no care. He stared at the wound as he pulled the blade away. It started out white, but quickly started to fill with blood. He smiled as Karen remained silent.
He settled the blade on a different spot on his arm, quickly pulling the blade back against the skin. The skin tore and the layers underneath followed. He watched as it did the same thing as the last one. His smile was wavering as his eyes blinked away tears.
Useless!
One
You are a failure to everyone.
Two
You don’t deserve the ground you walk on.
Three
It eventually turned into a fury of thoughts and blood. Tears gradually found their way down his face, mixing with his blood. When he was done he stumbled upward, grabbing a towel and putting some water from a water bottle on it and wiping the blade.
He turned to his arm and gently tugged the sleeve down.
“Peter, I advise you to seek medical attention or contact somebody to help you. You are bleeding profusely out the arm and have mild lacerations on your thighs.”
“Karen, I said no.”
If the AI could huff, she would. Peter rubbed where he hit his head against the table and slipped his blade away. He hit his bed with a loud ‘oof’ before wrapping himself carefully in the blanket to not get blood on it.
He looked at the messages one more time before going to bed. He shook his head at how pitiful he was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As his mind found even more ways to spiral, cutting slowly encroached on his school and Spider-man life. Same with depression and anxiety, depression more though. He found himself escaping away to the bathroom whenever the chance was offered, all this work to keep up the sunshine child was exhausting. But soon, his self harm became less of a punishment and more of a reward. If it was a reward he would cut lighter and get to watch the blood. But if it was a punishment, it was quick and deep, with no time to relish over it. Naturally he had no reason to be at the compound, so he didn't worry too much about Mr. Stark finding out.
Yet on the lovely afternoon of a rainy Thursday, Peter got a text, right before patrol.
[Mr. Stark] Hey kid, we on for tomorrow? Happy will get you like normal and we could do some updates to your suit.
Peter paused, phone in hand. Well wasn’t this a strange turn of events. Peter checked his calendar, there's no way Mr. Stark is randomly asking him to the tower on such short notice without a reason.
[Peter] Of course, Mr. Stark, what’s the occasion?
[Mr. Stark] Nothing much, just haven’t seen my favorite spider-boy in a while.
Peter sighed, but didn’t care enough to correct him. He needed to get his patrol over so he could reward himself. He slipped on his mask and swung out the window.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He returned to, of course, an empty house. He wasn’t surprised, he just sometimes forgot.
He slipped off his suit as he moved to the kitchen, making himself a sandwich before making his way back to his room.
Karen made an alert noise, lately she had been doing that. It was a way to let Peter know she was there. Especially due to his new habits. She would ask every time and get the same sharp ‘no’.
Peter let out a mildly annoyed sound, slipping into his blood soaked black clothing. Sure, it was gross beyond all belief, but he didn’t want to ruin more clothes.
As he did his evening routine, he answered the same to all of the questions, but there was one that caught him off guard. Karen had a way of doing that.
He sat on his bed watching the blood ooze out of his arm. The blood was warm against his skin, leaving an almost sticky residue.
“What would Mr. Stark think if he saw you doing this?”
That made him look up to the corner of the room where Karen's AI resided.
“..what?”
“What would Mr. Stark-”
He cut her off. “No I heard you, just… I don’t know. Probably nothing spectacular.”
There was a minor silence before he sighed, assuming Karen was done for today. He got up before the blood could get on the sheets, he went up to his calendar and swiped some blood off his arm and crossed out the day. One week and a day until May came back.
“That is a biohazard.”
“I know! Just- stop talking.”
He pressed his forehead against the wall, letting out a frustrated groan. He tapped his head against the wall as he felt it slowly rattle his brain.
“Continuing this behavior has a chance to give you a concussion, discretion is advised.”
He slammed his head into the wall, letting the pain swell into his head. After a moment he pushed off the wall, going back to his bed. He slid down his sleeves before slipping into bed, staring up at the mattress above him.
Why would Mr. Stark ever care for you? You’re just a burden on him and the others.
He turned to his side.
The Avengers wish you would just die.
He curled up on himself.
You make everyone's jobs harder, even if you try to make it easier, your efforts are futile.
He choked back a sob.
You should just die.
His chest heaved.
“Penis Parker isn't even smart enough to have an internship with Stark Industries!”
He fingers gripped onto his hair.
“If you are nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it.”
Tears slowly dribbled down his cheeks.
“Penis!.... Parker!..... Penis!..... PARKER!”
He sat up, breathing uneven as he dug for one of his spare blades. Tears brimmed his eyes as he leaned his head back with the blade in his hand. He was crying now.
Crying? What are you, 3? You are supposed to be a SUPERHERO, yet you can’t even grow up.
He sliced, his vision went white as all he felt searing pain. He tossed the blade from his hand as he scrambled for his towel, applying pressure.
“Peter, there is a large laceration on your arm, please, seek immediate medical attention or call someone,”
“Stop trying Karen!” He heaved, in his arm he could only feel pain.
The world started to go fuzzy, he leaned back taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He woke up groggy. To put it lightly.
He barely remembered what had happened until he looked down to the blood soaked towel. He swiftly returned to his previous panic. He scrambled to get it patched up and to not look at it. It was fatty, disgusting even, he gagged every time he looked at it. He noted that he should probably look to steal sutures or something from the compound.
He wrapped it as best he could for what he had available. He ignored Karen’s suggestions, he deemed them quite foolish. ‘You could call Happy to drive you’ or ‘you should call Tony’ or even ‘you might pass out from blood loss’. The only suggestion he did follow was about food and water, taking a water bottle and a sandwich before rushing out the door.
It was raining and he barely made it to school on time, but he did.
Throughout the school day he had to change his bandages, but it was nice to not be worried about needing to cut. It may seem that the voices are taking a break.
He waited outside the school as he waited for Happy to show up. Just as he started to turn to go to the train, disappointment stretched across his face as he heard a car come to a stop behind him. His mind had already started to spiral.
Maybe they set me up to prove how dependent and willing to bend to their whims he was.
“Peter!”
He turned as the voice pulled him out of his spiral. He saw Happy lean out over the center console, the passenger window rolled down as Happy motioned him to get in the car.
Peter climbed in the backseat, guilt quietly chomping at his brain.
Now you made him feel bad, he probably feels bad for you expecting him to show you up.
He gripped the inside door, sighing. He looked out the window as rain dropped down on it.
“Hey, kid, how has it been lately? You haven’t been texting as of late.”
Peter glanced over to Happy as he drove, he wanted to let it all out but it felt like there was a log in his throat. He also really didn’t want to be even more of a burden and annoyance than he already was.
“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you for picking me up.” Peter mumbled
Happy smiled, saying something about not worrying about it, but Peter was back to looking out the window.
The rest of the car ride was filled with the sound of rain hitting the top of the car. Peter wouldn’t admit it but he definitely had silent panic attacks in the car, causing him to rip off some scabs in the moment,
When they got out of the car and walked to the compound it was silent. The compound never stopped being impressive to Peter, large glass panes, heavy metal structures, and clean architecture.
They made their way to the lab and Tony was already working on something. Peter wandered in, clearing his throat as he made himself known.
Why would you do that? You’re disrupting Mr. Stark's peace.
He sees Tony spin around in his chair with a small smile.
It made Peter sick to his stomach.
Tony got up with delicate ease, standing in front of the mentee.
“You know how many times I’ve done that little sappy happy spin around expecting you? Let me answer, a lot. So you better appreciate this.”
Tony was talking fast, but Peter was barely listening. He glanced at the lab.
“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Stark.”
Tony mentally deadpanned, but he knew the Mr. Stark wasn’t really gonna change… no matter how much he nagged.
He pulled his suit out of his bag, neatly folded and set it on the table. He turned to Tony with an expecting look. Tony’s lips pulled into a tight line.
“Look, kid, I didn’t really call you for that, we could do that if you wanted, but it was mainly to get you to come up here.”
The elder paused.
“We don’t see, or hear, from you much anymore…” Tony trailed off. “Are you okay? Is Spider-boy-ing getting too much-”
“No!”
Tony paused, Peter looked at him with a worried glance.
“I mean- No, it's not too much. I’m doing okay.”
Peter glanced away. Tony mumbled ‘okkkaayyy’ as he moved to the workbench.
“Is this what you would like to be doing with our time?” Tony asked, examining the suit. Peter made sure to remove all his ‘adaptations’ before bringing it in, he did still keep some of the notifying injury factors off, but that was in case he was told to put it on.
“I mean, yeah, I don’t mind, it’ll end up helping more in the end.” Peter scratched at his head. Tony hummed, and then they started on basic things, system updates, patches on the suit.
Midway through patching a wiring error in the suit Tony grabbed Peter’s arm to propel the rolling chair forward with him on it. Peter held back a scream, attempting to hold his composure as Tony turned back to Peter.
Tony caught a small wince from Peter, but knew not to ask.
So on they continued, Peter let himself get lost in the work of his suit and webshooters. His hands worked with careful precision as he attempted to get his new webfluid to work with him.
After a while, the sun had gone down. Pepper walked into the lab and kissed Tony on the head.
“Ooo, you stink… Is Peter staying? I’ll make food.” Pepper laughed, ruffling Tony’s hair.
Tony looked to Peter as he nodded. “We will go on patrol later, after food.” Tony stated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter thanked Pepper as he made his way back to the lab, he swiped his suit off the table. Tony had just been rushing him moments before, he was momentarily excited. He didn’t get to patrol with Tony very often. The entire time he was eating dinner, guilt was eating him alive for eating food he didn’t deserve. Yet that was besides the point.
Peter quickly changed in the bathroom, glancing at his bandages before removing them and putting a bandaid over the wound. He slipped out of the bathroom, tugging at his webslingers. He glanced around the hallway, face falling slightly as he noticed Tony wasn’t where he said he would be.
Stupid to even think he wanted to go on patrol with you.
His hands clenched at his sides, his breathing got shallow.
You’re such a dependent loser, Penis Parker. Can’t even handle getting stood up. You just have to have another panic attack today.
Sensitive.
Useless child.
You will never amount to anything.
He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he forced himself to look normal to onlookers.
He noticed Tony at the end of the hall, but something was wrong… He looked almost hesitant.
“Mr. Stark?” He mumbled.
“Hey, kiddo, do you wanna talk…? I feel you haven’t been honest with me.”
His heart rate picked up again. He couldn’t know, wouldn’t.
“Peter, I’ve noticed a spike in stress and panic attack symptoms, if the stress continues or goes any higher I am obligated to report it to Mr. Stark.” Karen said, voice forever monotone.
Karen. That wasn’t what he told her to say. He froze, eyes wide beneath the mask. The updates, it must’ve reset her protocols. That means…
Run.
He ran, as fast as his feet could carry him. Which to give credit where it's due, is fairly quickly. He could feel the vibration of someone yelling behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It wasn’t too long until doors started to lock in his face.
Did that let that stop him?
No.
Not with the voices pleading for him to run. Not with them telling him what would happen to him if he got caught. For him, this was life or death.
Sounds couldn’t quite reach his ears, but he could still sense.
Tony was lagging behind, coming to a complete stop at one point.
Then came the other vibrations, flanking from the left, the direction of the Avengers quarters. He started running right, slipping under a closed door… but before he could register anything someone was on top of him. The person flipped Peter to his stomach with careful hands, holding his wrists in front of Peter in a delicate but tough grip. He tried to move his legs and found the nameless person laying over his legs.
He let out a few noises of annoyance as he attempted to squirm out. He felt the presence of the other people hovering around the now closed door. After a moment, forcing his body to relax, sound slowly filled his ears as he heard two sets of heavy breathing. His face was pressed to the ground as he heard Tony and Dr. Banner talking, both seemingly out of breath.
Tony was the one on top of him, holding him down, not quite in restraint. Fear bubbled up in his chest, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was like he was under water.
His brain started to plan almost immediately. He felt Tony let up on him a little. Simple human failure. Naturally when they feel less resistance they will let up to preserve energy. Simple mistake.
Peter immediately took his chance. He pushed up and started to surge forward. He heard a faint yell from Tony behind him before he felt a prick in his shoulder.
A tranq…
He looked to the direction it came from, Pepper. Her face was twisted in concern.
Fake concern.
He attempted to continue forward but his body stopped mid step.
“We are sorry Peter, we are just very scared righ-.”
The world went dark.