Peter paced back and forth; he walked to the end of the street, turned, and walked back. Rinse and repeat. He still didn't know what to do; he really should go and apologise to Steve. If for anything he should thank the man for saving him from being kidnapped. Sure Peter could have gotten free himself but the soldier had still gone through lasers and faced flying arrows for him. He paused for a second as he thought about that and suddenly took off running.

From force of habit he still turned a corner to take a different street and even hopped onto a rood to make his travel faster and avoid cameras. Because of his speed it didn't take him too long before he skidded into the Avenger's tower.

"JARVIS?"

"Thirteenth floor Sir."

"Thanks," Peter let out even as he practically flew up the stairs and into the room. "It was a trap," he blurted into the sudden silence. "They didn't want to kill anyone; none of the lasers were at a high enough frequency to even sever limbs let alone cause death and they weren't shooting to kill only wound."

Steve wouldn't have even been shot if it weren't for Peter but he shoved that thought away for the moment.

"And the floor had a slight slope which caused everything to slide down. They wanted Steve's blood."

He stopped talking and placed his hands on his knees to breath. Sure he had more stamina then most people but he had just ran to the tower and up thirteen flights of stairs.

"Uh yeah, we know."

What.

"What?" Peter asked as he looked up at Tony.

"Two of the people in this room are genius's Peter," the billionaire pointed out as they all stared at him. "We figured this out ages ago."

Oh.

"Oh," the young man replied weakly and then sank to the ground behind the couch and rested his back against it.

He really didn't want to see any of their faces right now not to mention everything was catching up now that the panic had faded. Of course they had figured it out; Peter had been stupid for even worrying about it. They were the Avengers; it was only natural they had it all under control while Peter had nothing under control. His whole life was unravelling beneath him; there wasn't any strands of web left to hold him up.

He buried his head into his arms as he felt each strand snapping; all the cracks spreading. Peter had been doing a passible job of holding things together. He had even gotten a teleporter working and it had stopped disintegrating on him. This accomplishment should have made him happy; it was one step closer to home but all it reminded him of was the fact that he was still here.

People were dying and he was still here. Every time he shut his eyes he could hear Aunt May calling for him; could hear screams. Sleeping just brought dreams of blood; blood he was helpless to stop.

He felt a heavy hand rest on his shoulder and heard a voice though he couldn't make out the words through the thundering of his heart.

So he avoided sleep the best he could; getting enough to make sure he was able to function properly. The nightmares often woke him up so the point was moot anyway. The only time he felt a little better; when the screams grew muffled was when he was around the Avengers. They didn't mend anything but they allowed him to forget and he couldn't. Peter wasn't allowed to forget what had happened; what was happening because of him.

There were more voices and then something warm was placed over him.

Even now with his eyes shut he could see the blood and hear screams. How many bodies lay unmoving in New York's streets because of him? Each second he was here could mean another life gone. How many children were being orphaned? How many families were losing loved ones?

"Peter," a soft voice came through the haze and he lifted his eyes up slowly. The haze of blood lightened slightly allowing him to see the room again.

The only people currently still in it were Bruce and Steve; both of which looked worried. Steve was kneeling before him and Bruce held a glass of water. Peter took in their worried eyes tiredly and went to rest his head back in his arms only for Steve to pull it into forward against the man's shoulder instead. The younger man immediately stiffened up and Steve sighed.

"It's alright," he murmured. "You can be weak Peter."

No he couldn't; Peter didn't have the time to be weak. He had so much to do and he was wasting time even now. Steve slid a hand into his hair to hold him in place so the young man couldn't run again.

"Breath Peter," Bruce said calmly. "Breath and try to think of a relaxing place. Whatever is worrying you can wait."

No it really couldn't. Peter couldn't make people wait for him when they needed him and he hadn't even realised he was having trouble breathing till right then.

"Breath," Bruce said again. "You can't do anything in this state. You need to calm down."

'Calm down,' Peter thought slightly hysterically. 'How am I supposed to calm down?'

"I'm going to count to five Peter," Bruce told him. "I want you to breath with me. In for five and out for five."

Steve ran his fingers through Peter's hair soothingly as the young man followed Bruce's instructions. It took a bit but his breath finally started to slow as he focused on the counting and Steve's breaths.

'They are right,' he realised. 'I can't do anything in this state.'

He felt gratefully for the softness of Steve's shirt beneath his forehead, and the steady thump of the man's heart, but he eventually pulled back and accepted the glass of water from Bruce. The young man could feel a strand of web strengthening under his feet. It was fragile, not a full web, it would barely hold his weight but it was something to hold him up for the moment.

"Drink slowly," Bruce ordered as Peter made to gulp the water down and the young man slowed down as commanded.

"Thanks," he muttered quietly.

He knew he should stand up and move but it felt so nice to be there. With a blanket draped over his back and two people he could call friends beside him. Bruce stood and brought back another glass of water. This one Peter drank more slowly without being told and remained still as Bruce felt his forehead.

"Have you always had anxiety attacks?" the man asked him professionally.

Peter frowned, shook his head, and then paused. There had been several breakdowns after Uncle Ben and Gwen. He'd never thought of them as that though.

"A couple," he offered hesitantly.

"Can you talk about it?"

Peter blanched at the thought and Bruce nodded.

"Alright."

Steve was still running his fingers through Peter's hair which felt really nice but he needed to distance himself, he still didn't deserve this, so he pulled back.

"I need to go."

"Absolutely not," Steve said firmly and Peter stared at him. "You are, at the very least, staying the night Peter."

Peter took in a breath to argue but the other man shook his head.

"No; I've had a panic attack before. You are not going off to be by yourself. You are going to stay here, have a good meal, and sleep in an actual bed. Am I understood?"

Peter just stared at him for a moment before nodding with a small smile.

"Yes sir."

XXXXX

AN: I'm sorry for the long wait; I had no idea what to do for this chapter so it took a fairly long time... It didn't help that I kept getting distracted by other stories too. I have an idea of what will happen for next chapter so hopefully it won't be as long of a wait and it will hopefully be a longer chapter as well. Thank you all for your patience and your reviews. I love each and every one of them.