Shiz been happenin'. 

=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=

Stark Tower

Peter's Room

9:23 A.M. 

Next Day

Peter sniffed in his pillow. He'd gotten about the total of three hours of sleep. He'd woken up four times last night, due to the agonizing screams of the girl he'd let down. The nightmares didn't stop, and Peter was breathing fast. 

Too fast. 

He was breathing in and out, trying to calm his need for air. 

"Peter, you are hyperventilating. If you cannot sustain your breathing, I will have to inform Mr. Rogers," Jarvis informed. Peter slowed his breathing, even though his lungs burned for air. Eventually he got it under control. He was sweating, and tears just added to the mixture. He was just now aware of the burning feeling in his leg, and remembered that was where his stitches were. It was irritated, indicating that he needed to take them out. He groaned, sitting up. Taking a glance at his leg, his suspicions were correct, the skin was irritated, taking a red glow, and his skin was pretty much healed. He needed to take out the stitches before his skin grew over it, and it would be very painful and uncomfortable. Moving slowly, Peter limped his way over to the Medical Room, trying not to move his leg too much. He grabbed the medical scissors and disinfectant. Grabbing the magnifying glass to place it in the right position, Peter bit into a towel as he snipped the stitches out. 

After making sure that he'd gotten every stitch out of the wound, Peter drenched a rag with disinfectant and softly padded it onto his leg. It stung, and Peter had to do his best not to flinch. After wiping it for the last time, Peter really looked at the wound. It was nothing but a small cut, and should be fully healed by noon. He was happy that it mostly closed. 

Peter sighed in relief, putting everything back where he'd found it. 

Walking out of the Medical Room, he was met with Tony. The billionaire was just coming out of his own room, presumably to eat breakfast. He raised his brow at Peter, asking, 

"What are you doing in the Medical Room?" Tony questioned. Peter shrugged at him. 

"Got shot last night. Couldn't leave the bullet in my thigh, could I?" Peter responded. Tony stood there, in stunned silence, as Peter started walking past him. 

"By the way, you need more pain killers. You were out," Peter told him. He entered the main room, where the kitchen was. Tony sputtered after him. 

"Wait," he yelled after Peter. "Are you telling me that you removed a bullet from your thigh without pain killers?" Tony asked, stunned. Peter just shrugged his shoulders, completely unaware of the rest of the Avengers watching the two. 

"Couldn't wait for you to buy some, and I would've bled out by the time I got to the hospital. Even if I could have gotten there on time, I would've let them known about my secret identity. No choice," Peter said, shrugging his shoulders. Tony's mouth dropped. 

"Did you do it alone?" Tony asked. 

"No I had-," 

"Me," Clint finished. He looked at Peter in the eye. "Though I only sat and watched him. The little bug had gotten the bullet out and started stitching by the time Jarvis told me what happened. I need to talk to you, Peter." Peter felt uncomfortable. He slowly nodded at the archer, grabbing an apple. He now just noticed everyone was watching him with shocked and concerned faces. 

"Are you okay, Peter?" Steve asked, looking at the teenager with concern. Peter shooed him off. 

"I'm fine. Look," Peter lifted his leg up to show his leader. "Clear as day," he assured. Steve's face drew up in surprise. Pietro zoomed over to take a look. 

"Ya sure it was a bullet? I hear you can dodge them at point black range. It looks like a paper-cut. And couldn't you just web them up like me?" Pietro asked, glaring at the boy. Peter winced at that. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. To uh all of you that I webbed. Really just making sure you didn't follow me. And for the bullet-," Peter cut off, memories coming back to the previous night. 

"I'd rather not talk about that," Peter said, an edge to his voice. 

"What, you scared?" Pietro challenged, "or even better, you embarrassed?" Pietro joked. Peter held his breath, clenching his eyes. 

"I-I've got to go," Peter said, running out of the room. Pietro's eyes widened, he'd only been toying around with the boy, apparently he'd gone too far. Steve looked at him, disappointed.

"You need to go and apologize." he said sternly. Pietro ducked his head and nodded as he walked towards the boy's room. 

Clint followed him.

=-=-=

Peter breathed in and out. It was his fault, if he wasn't alive Uncle Ben'd be alive, Gwen would, Captain Stacy would, and that girl in the alleyway would be, too. He was miserable. His labored breathing evened out. 

There was a knock at his door. Peter took a deep breath, answering: 

"Y-Yes?" his voice sounded choked, and Peter wish he hadn't stuttered. 

It just made him sound like he was crying. 

On the other side of the door, Pietro and Clint looked nervously at each other. 

"I uh, Peter can we come in?" Pietro asked, tracing the curves of the door with his fingertip. There was a shuffle of papers in the room before Peter replied with: 

"Uh, y-yeah come in," Peter muttered, barely audible. 

When Pietro opened the door, all he saw was a messy room, papers everywhere; things toppled over, and other things ripped from the walls. Peter was on his bed, facing the wall, back to them. 

"We need to talk to you, Peter," Clint started, stepping in the room. He and Pietro shared a wild stare. 

"I'm sorry," Pietro blurted, tumbling over his words, "I didn't mean to upset you, I just meant it as a joke!" Peter stiffened, turning his head to look at the boy. He sighed, turning his whole body to look at the two men in front of him. 

"I guess I should say sorry, too." Peter said, looking at both men. Pietro seemed surprised, and Clint just looked confused. "I shouldn't have walked out, Pietro.  I was just upset because-," he choked on his words. He looked down and fiddled with his hands. He took a deep breath. Clint and Pietro both walked towards the boy, sitting on his bed with him. 

"The night I got shot, Clint. Remember?" when he got a nod, Peter continued. "I guess I should explain why I did get shot. It will explain both the reasons." Peter took a deep breath, continuing. "I should start from the beginning.

"There was this girl, her name was Gwen Stacy. She was the love of my life," Pietro flinched when he heard, "was". 

"She was brilliant. She- uh- was the only one besides my Aunt that really believed in me. She knew about Spider-Man, too. She was going to go to Oxford. She was going to move away to England, and I wanted to go with her, to have a happy life with her. 

"She never got there, though. Harry," Peter said, moving on. "was my best friend ever since we were little, I can't think of one moment of when I wasn't with him. He moved away. I haven't seen him in a long time. Just about six or so months ago I saw him again. He was dying. He knew that Spider-Man could heal. He had a sickness that no one knew the cure to. He thought that if I gave him my, or Spider-Man's, DNA, it would save him." Peter shook his head. "The spider venom only worked in my blood because my dad made the spider with his DNA, and since we're related it fit in my DNA. Harry couldn't take my blood or something could've happened to him. So I said no. He found some spider venom somewhere else, and put it inside of him. It turned him into a monster. Then Electro came in. We fought, blah blah blah. Gwen wanted to come. I said no, but she's very persistent. She came anyway. I told her, "no! It's too dangerous here!" she replied with, "this is my choice, nobody chose my decisions. My choice.'" Peter choked, "I beat Electro because Gwen reentered the power in the power grid. It hurt," Both men looked concerned when they heard that. "We beat him. We celebrated. 

"Too soon. Harry came. He told me that I take away hope, so he was going to take away mine. He grabbed Gwen, and flew to the watchtower. We fought, and Gwen was hanging on my webbing." A tear escaped from Peter's eye. 

"It snapped. She fell. I threw Harry off of me, and I flew after her as she fell. I wasn't fast enough. I caught her, but she was already dead." 

Peter choked on his sobs. He drew in a weak breath. 

"I killed her." Clint opened his mouth, and Peter just shushed him. 

"That night I got shot. There was this robbery. I took it like any other. But the hostages, one of them looked exactly like Gwen. It just made me want to protect her. I was dodging the bullets, and when I dodged, it hit her instead. Right," he rose his shaking arm and pointed to the middle of his forehead, "here. I was having flashbacks when I got shot. I got him, and I got the boy out. Then I left, and that's when you found me." Peter weakly laughed. 

"You guys say I give hope? No. I take it away," 

=-=--=-=

A\N #IHasDaFeelz if ya feel it. 

<#IHasDaFeelz>

AHEM 

Sorry, school. 

To make it up for you, I made this super long. 

This work currently has 1648 words

XOXO

Nightmare