Jumping out of windows and into panic attacks
“Who’s he?” Matt asks, and Peter can’t help but curl in on himself. He really didn’t want to think about him.
“Mr.Stark.”
Peter did his best to ignore how he saw Franks fist clench, trying not to think about who, exactly, the man is angry at.
“He’s not making me.” Peter repeats firmly then presses his lips shut. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn't want to think about it. (because then he might try to do something about it, and that would mean telling someone about- There’s nothing to tell).
Matt took a deep breath and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. Peter assumed he was praying, and felt vaguely uncomfortable with how distraught these men were.
“I'm going to school” He said, desperate to leave, and immediately ran to the (thankfully) open window and jumped, pulling on his mask.
Peter shot out a web midair and started swinging through Manhattan, towards the school, when he realized his backpack is still at Mr. Stark’s. Shitnoodles, He cursed, dreading seeing the man.
Deciding to get it after school, he arrives in the alley by Midtown High and wiggles out of the spider suit, revealing the clothes he wore underneath.
Walking out of the alley and into the crowd of students in the school, he was immediately so incredibly uncomfy with all the people bumping into him. He held his breath as a large senior brushed against him, and started to silently mouth the periodic table song to himself so he wouldn’t do something stupid.
Antimony, Arsenic, Aluminum, Selenium...
He swiped a hoodie from the lost and found on the way to class, and crossed his fingers that nobody noticed he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. The bell rang for the first period.
Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen, Rhenium...
Walking into Mr.Carter’s Geometry class, He kept his gaze on the floor and slid into his seat in the back of the room next to Ned. Ned, his best friend forever. His guy in the chair. The Alfred to his batman. His mastermind.
“Hey Peter, I got the new Legos we talked about! Wanna come over this weekend?” Ned whisper-shouted, his excitement rendering him oblivious to Peter’s… everything.
Nickel, Neodymium, Neptunium, Germanium...
“Peter?” Ned asked, but he still couldn’t answer. Oh fuck, Ned was gonna hate him. Oh shit.
This was it. Their friendship was over. Ned was gonna leave him. Peter took a shaky breath and his stupid fucking tears started falling out of his eyes.
Iron, Americium, Ruthenium, Uranium…
Scrunching his eyes shut, Peter was suddenly aware of Ned’s hand on his shoulder and a voice by his ear. “Mr. Carter, Peter has a migraine, I’m gonna take him to the nurse”.
Peter numbly lets Ned guide him up from his chair and out of the classroom. They make it into what most students call the “Hallway of Doom”, a dimly lit corridor with no functional classrooms, where Ned lets go of Peter's shoulder. He stumbles backward into the wall, slumping downward and burying his face in his arms and pulling his knees close.
Europium, Zirconium, Lutetium, Vanadium…
Peter can’t help but wonder how it was possible to feel so completely numb and terrified all at once.
Ned sits down beside him, prompting Peter to take a mild sabbatical from rational thought and collapse into him, face buried in the other boy’s shoulder.
Lanthanum and Ozmium and Astatine and Radium...
“Hey,” Ned says mildly alarmed, wrapping his arms around Peter. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here. I promise.”
“So am I” He hears MJ and registers zir presence as he feels zir hand card through his hair. Not sure when ze got there but not really caring, he sat there for a while, just crying. God, he was gonna have to get Ned a new shirt.
Peter doesn’t know how long he stayed there. Eventually, he sluggishly removed his head from Ned’s shoulder, leaning it against the wall.
“I’m sorry” he said, and he almost flinched in surprise at how meek he sounded.
“Don’t be sorry” MJ decreed, kindly but firmly in the most MJ-like way. Peter knew better than to argue with zir royal highness, so he fell silent again.
“Peter,” Ned starts, hesitant, “Have you been taking your meds?”
A teary laugh broke out of Peter. He knew they were going to figure it out eventually, he should have just told them. “They don’t work anymore. Super metabolism.” His admission was met with a small gasp and an even tighter hug.
“It’ll be okay”, MJ whispers with so much force he almost believes zem.
Peter wants to wrap his arms around MJ like he was Jack from the titanic and ze was a piece of driftwood. He doesn’t.
He knows he would lose control and hurt zem, a spider themed Frankenstein's monster. At least, he thinks so, as he was basing this comparison on what he knew about it from Tumblr and cartoons, having never actually read the book.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, because there were thousands of things he could be apologizing for.
For not telling his friends sooner. Sorry for having a panic attack, for being a burden. Sorry for lying, for letting them think being off his meds (Fuck, he was insane) was the only reason he was so upset.
They didn’t need to know about Mr.Stark. Of course they don’t because there’s nothing to know.
Peter is overreacting.
He is overreacting because he is off his meds. He is so overreacting because there is so much nothing going on that there isn’t even anything for him to overreact about (That made more sense in his head.) .
The point is nothing is going on. At all.
There is nothing to tell them, and besides, they haven’t even asked.
Oh god, what if they ask.
Peter will just explain that nothing is wrong and he’s overreacting. He won’t lie. That wouldn’t be a lie.
“Nothing’s going on, I’m overreacting.” Peter explains, sluggish from the tears.
MJ pulls back and Ned furrows his brows, and asks what he means.
Shit.
They hadn’t asked.