TRIGGER WARNING: attempted suicide- please refrain from reading if this topic makes you uncomfortable and/or may trigger a flashback

note- slight (?) endgame spoilers with no context

Peter bites his lip as he turns the bath handle, water gushing from its spout. The loud sound of the water crashing against the white ceramic bath tub fills his ears. He stands and shrugs his sweatshirt off, revealing his chest and torso.

Dull red and grey marks line his pale skin, jutting out in all different directions. It was his little secret, the pain he inflicted on himself. It was his way of coping with his father's death.

Sometimes he wonders why exactly he was put into this world. All he does is fuck up and the world around him seems to scream, "Screw you!"

Peter sighs softly as he lines up his stuff on the edge of the bathtub;  a bottle of anti-depressants, a rag and his trusty blade. It's stood with him for the past few months, only needing a few washes to look good as new.

Once the bath was filled with the water, Peter stepped in cautiously, sitting down and sprawling out as his back touched the tub. His shorts stuck to his legs- after all, he didn't need anyone coming in and finding him naked. He soaked for a little while, running the idea in his mind over.

Was it really worth going through the trouble of killing himself?

Or was the pain he faced every single day worse than taking his life?

Peter had heard stories of suicide. It was a topic they briefly touched on in history class. And last year- Gwen Stacy, hung herself in her bedroom from the window sill. There was a school-side funeral for her two days after the event, her family and close friends mourning the young girl's lost life.

And then there was Harley- Peter's older brother. When the "Infinity War" happened he couldn't take it, ending in overdosing on over the counter medication. Their dad took it hard and began drinking again, but soon stopped once Morgan was born.

Oh god, what about Morgan.

Peter couldn't just leave her- the poor girl had already lost her dad and her older brother, even though she didn't even know he existed. Peter was her only rock since Pepper was busy maintaining Stark Industries with Happy and Rhodes by her side. But if Peter took away his life, maybe Morgan wouldn't have to grow up with a fuck up for a brother.

Peter reached over and picked up the blade, massaging it between his forefinger and thumb. The metal glinted in the light, a small sparkle glittering against the wall. Peter closed his eyes and made a small cut against his wrist, blood beginning to seep through. He made five more, wincing at the stinging sensation every time he dragged the blade across his wrist.

Peter cut himself everywhere; he cut his thighs, his stomach, his arms and shoulders, as well as his collarbone, and soon the once clear water was riddled with red swirls. Peter could barely see any of his pale skin against the red blood as he reached over and popped his medication open, smiling a few into his hand.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

By the thirteenth, Peter began to feel dizzy. He knew that his healing factor wouldn't be able to catch up in time as he ruined his body. He could feel his pulse slow and his blood begin to move slowly through his veins. With a few more tired blinks, Peter's eyes closed, the bottle falling to the floor. The remaining pills sprawled out across the floor helplessly, and some fell into the tub.

Peter woke up to white upon white. A loud beeping was to his right, and there was a soft whir coming from his left. His eyes shifted around the room he was in, only for him to realize he was in a hospital.

Shit, it didn't work.

Peter tried to sit up but noticed that he could barely move, his muscles weak and aching. He tried to speak, but realized there was a tube down his throat.

"Hrmpph..." Peter gargled, the tube triggering his gag reflex. The door suddenly burst open, revealing Happy with Morgan on his back and a few nurses.

"Mr. Parker, stop struggling- the tube is helping you breathe," one nurse stressed, rushing to his beside. She had long and thick black hair that was put into a tight ponytail. Her skin was darker than his, more of a mocha shade. She had freckles and deep brown eyes with hints of green.

Peter made himself calm down, the urge to cough soon dissipating. He blinked tired at a nurse who was changing his IV. Soon they left, leaving Happy and Morgan alone with Peter.

"Peter! Peter!" Morgan giggled, reaching out towards the teenager. Peter looked at Happy whose eyes were filled with sorrow and exhaustion.

"You gave us a scare back there, kid," he said in the softest voice Peter had ever heard. It was a weird change to what he's used to. He could only blink at the security guard-turned uncle.

Morgan climbed up onto the bed, sitting gracefully next to her big brother. She smiled widely and booped his nose with a giggle. Peter could only blink.

The tube in his throat was extremely uncomfortable and he wanted to rip it out of his mouth. He already knew what they did to him- he watch enough medical tv shows to understand. They pumped his stomach to get rid of the medication and Peter could see the bandages wrapped around his arms and stomach.

Peter was good at a lot of things, but killing himself was definitely not one of them.