Peter was walking home, hands in his pockets, now drenched in his new hoodie. The rain picked up, like it would in any movie when a sad scene plays. Why did Ned have to find out?

A part of him wanted someone to know about his cutting. He desperately wanted to talk about everything that was bothering him, but he felt it wouldn't be enough. Nothing could make the pain go away like the cutting did, right?

He just hoped Ned would listen to him. Peter was slightly crying, but the rain made it go unnoticed, not to say if it was noticeable anyone would say anything. Lately he had just been feeling useless. He never believed in the saying "boys don't cry" but this was just getting ridiculous. It felt as if everyday he had some kind of event, dream, flashback, SOMETHING that made him cry.

That night Peter decided to never let people get close again. Being so close to Aunt May and Uncle Ben was amazing, but losing them brought him so much pain. He was starting to get closer with Tony, and then everything went crazy bad. Now Ned? Peter used to think bad luck just ran in his family, now he was starting to wonder if he WAS the bad luck. If he never got close to anyone it wouldn't be as hard to see them go than if he was close with them. Cause no one would stay, right?

Right. He would make sure no one would get close enough for him to have to ask that question again.

He looked up, finally making it back to Avengers tower. He wanted to go straight to his room, but he assumed Tony would want to see him before, considering it was the first time he had really been out in a while.

He made his way to the lounge area, assuming that's where he'd be. His guess proved to be right as he walked in and saw Tony, cooking? He never really expected the millionaire to cook for himself, but he should know by know Tony's full of surprises.

"Where's the team?" Peter asked.

"Watching a new movie. It wasn't really my taste and I wanted to stay and wait for this teenager to get home safe. So how was the concer—why are you soaking wet?" Tony asked, finally turning around and seeing water dripping from Peter's clothes.

"It's raining cats and dogs," Peter said calmly, pointing to a window behind him with his thumb.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Tony said sarcastically, "but it wasn't raining that bad earlier. Besides, the drive could've given you some time to dry off. You didn't walk home, did you?"

Peter was about to say something before realizing Tony said home. Months had passed and he still hadn't grasped that the tower was now, in fact, his home, and that this was his life. It had been for weeks.

"Hello? Earth to Peter," Tony said, snapping his fingers in the kid's face, "answer the question."

"What? Obviously I didn't walk home, Tony. That's crazy," Peter said with a nervous laugh.

"Fine, I'll just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to show me the last ten minutes of video footage from the camera outside then."

Tony opened his mouth, but Peter cut him off before he could speak.

"Okay! I walked home."

"And why would you do that?"

Of all the excuses to use, Peter's first one he thought of was 'it was a nice day.' He quickly shot that down, lightning striking outside as if to remind him just how flooded the streets were becoming.

"I just… hadn't been out in a while. The weather wasn't as close to being as bad as it is now, so I wanted to walk home, I guess."

"You guess? Do you know how careless that was? Someone could've tried mugging you, or kidnapping you, or worse!"

"Yeah, well just because you took away my suit doesn't mean you took away my powers. I could've taken either of those guys."

"You're missing my point," Tony said, running a hand through his hair, "Look, Pete, you've managed to make it on a very small list of people I care about. Whether or not you have powers, or abilities, it doesn't change anything, so I'm sorry if my protectiveness upsets you. I just want you to be safe."

"We're in New York, Tony. Safe is practically inevitable. Why can't you see that? You think taking away Spider-Man will protect me but it only puts me in danger. You took my web shooters, something I always carried with me in case I was ever in danger. And yeah, I save other people too, but you have no right to tell me I can't do that while your Iron Man suits are in the same tower we live in!"

"This must be why people don't have kids," Tony mumbled to himself, "I thought it would be great because you're a mature teenager, so I skipped past the hard parts, but I guess I was wrong. You don't understand."

"Then help me understand! And don't give me that 'you'll understand when you're older' crap because I don't want to hear it!"

"Yeah? Well maybe I don't want to tell it. You don't need to understand everything. Why can't I have a conversation with you that doesn't end with us fighting?"

"I don't know, maybe because you've practically ruined my life ever since I've come here."

"All right, that's enough. Go to your room," Tony said, pointing towards the elevator.

"I will, but don't think I'm doing it because I'm listening to you. I'm only doing it to get away from you," Peter said, turning quickly and going to his room.

Tony sighed. In his mind, he truly didn't understand where he'd gone wrong. He was starting to realize that Peter really did need Spider-Man, but Peter was in no condition to go out at night. He would be too reckless, and maybe even get himself killed because of it. Tony wasn't willing to take that risk.

Meanwhile, a frustrated teenager made it to his room. Peter slammed the door, wanting Tony to hear it, although it wasn't likely. He was so angry at Tony, he took the papers on his desk and shoved them off. He kicked the chair so hard it flew into the wall and busted through some of the drywall.

He sat on the bed, not caring that the water was soaking through his clothes into the sheets. He pulled at his hair with both hands, hating everything. After a few minutes he stopped, though his mind was still racing. Lightning struck and the glint of his pocketknife caught his eye.

Peter stared at. Ned was right; cutting would never be enough. But he could just end it all.

Peter eyed his arms, noticing how much the cuts had already healed. Never had he cut close to his wrist before, fearing he might accidentally cut a vein or artery. That wasn't something he wanted to explain to Tony. If he was dead, he wouldn't have to.

Peter made his decision, grabbing the knife and taking his spot back on the bed. He pulled his sleeve up. All he had to do was cut deep enough, then it would all be over.

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Sorry it's short and a cliffhanger. I was going to update it sooner, but corona happened and my classes became way more difficult online. I finally finished my semester, so I'm hoping to finish this story soon.

Please review :) I'll be back soon.