One of the saddest things in life is when you don't want anything anymore. You're not in despair, you know you're not alone, you know it can get better, but you don't want any of it.
He sat on the porch of the building May's apartment was in. Peter's apartment was in. His classmate had said he'd be back from superheroeing in two hours so they could watch movies together and Peter could show him the new formula for his web fluid which they would try to make and then have a web fight as they always did.
He said that four hours ago.
But it was okay. He knew how important the superhero business was. How much crime there was in Queens and how good Peter was at stopping it when he saw it. He'd told him that the urge of helping when he saw something happen had become overwhelming since he had been able to actually do something about it. So he got it! Really he did!
He should've listened to his mom. The jacket was to thin for this time of year.
He'd argued back by telling her he'd only have to walk a few blocks and that he'd be inside in no time.
He'd been sitting there for two hours now.
He knew that if he buzzed, May would let him in right away. Would fake being mad at him for standing outside for so long and even make him a cup of tea even if he insisted on doing it himself.
She would ask about his day and if he had found another cool hat for the next big party they'd probably never attend. He'd answer that it had been fine or go off into an excited rant about something new he'd read or learned and tell her about how he was actually going to try to not wear one next time because it had been embarrassing.
She'd tell him it had been a wonderful hat and that kids were stupid and he'd agree.
He didn't ring the doorbell though.
If you were to ask him why he wouldn't be able to give you a straight answer either. He truly didn't know himself. But as soon as he had sat down on the steps, moving became this incredibly difficult task and getting up seemed even harder. He just stared blankly, aware of the tears swimming just behind his eyes wanting to be released though he didn't let them.
There was no reason to cry so why would he?
After another ten minutes, he did move. Getting up and starting to walk down the street, not knowing where he'd go and not really caring either. His mind on autopilot, emotions dangerously numb and eyes pricking with tears that he didn't let go because there was no reason to cry. Nothing had happened, life was great, he should be happy.
He was. Wasn't he?
How he had ended up near the bridge he didn't know.
He didn't want to jump, not really. Wouldn't do so anyway.
But he walked over to the spot near the water, the little wall separating him from a fall that would surely break his neck if he landed right. Wrong. If he landed wrong.
He and Peter sat there often. Not as often anymore but it was still a nice spot to come and talk or wait for each other until the other was there before they walked all the way back and talked about everything and nothing. That specific spot had seen them both laugh and cry. Had seen their friendship officially start and grow into something more. A bond so strong he was sure that even the Hulk wouldn't be able to break it.
That spot had seen a lot.
Never him scooting closer to the water though.
He didn't want to jump.
Not really anyway.
But somehow he still scooted closer and closer to the water. Head numb and fingers only loosely clinging to the rough stone, not enough to hold him if he were to topple over the wall. Not enough to prevent it from happening if he dared to take the leap.
One of the saddest things is when you don't want anything anymore.
He was on the very edge now, looking down at the water that looked almost black in the late hour, moon not yet showing behind the clouds and buildings, the sky dark as the last bit of purple that the sun had left behind bled away slowly.
You're not in despair, you know you're not alone, you know it can get better.
He knew. Of course, he knew. There was no reason for him to feel or act like this in the first place. He was the cheery one, wasn't he? The happy and excited friend in their little group. He always had been. So why in the world had it slowly turned into a bad act. A ripoff of the actual thing without actual happiness behind it.
He wasn't really acting either. He could convince his mind that he actually felt happy when with his friends. He could laugh and hug them and rant about how the new star wars timeline wasn't accurate or bicker with Peter about how Startrek wasn't better or about how they could go for a slushy at the new place the nice man in the corner shop had opened and then see if they could make him sticky shoes so he could walk on the ceiling as well.
but you don't want any of it.
He did. He didn't. He wasn't sure. He knew he liked his life and liked his friends but he wasn't sure it was worth it anymore.
He didn't do anything to endanger or harm himself before. He knew it would break his friends and families heart so he didn't. He never would. So why was he here?
You're just tired of living. And you're not sure if anyone can really help at that point.
He was nearly losing his balance now, a strong wind would topple him over the edge if it suddenly blew against his back. And still, he didn't feel it.
He didn't yet feel the fear people tell you about. That you're supposed to feel when being mere moments away from death.
You're just tired of living.
The wind picked up and his hands were still only loosely grabbing the edge of the little stone wall. If it would just tug a little harder he wouldn't actually have to do it himself. It could be seen as an accident, by him at least. He wouldn't have done it himself if the wind just pushed a bit more, came a bit more sudden.
"Don't do it, sir!"
Peter. Peter was swinging towards him, spiderman outfit slightly dusty which meant he had been fighting some people but hadn't been hurt too badly. It meant he would have bruises he would see healing in a matter of hours if the door was locked so May wouldn't be mad at him for getting hurt and he left the t-shirt on that he always used as pyjamas. The oversized shirt a gift from Tony Stark himself, he had said.
"Sir please I can-Please get off the wall please?"
It was dark of course, though he was fairly certain that if Peter wanted, he could have his AI recognise him in mere seconds. He hadn't yet though, and he was hidden by the shadows of the trees around him and the hood he had put on. When had he put it on?
Peter got closer now, landed on the grass behind him with a soft noise.
He knew what his friend looked like right now, hands outstretched as to tell him he didn't mean harm, carefully stepping closer and thinking of what to say to get him to turn around.
He should almost be able to recognise him without the extra help of his AI now, should be able to make out the familiar jacket he was wearing and his silhouette as a whole should be pretty much a giveaway for him to-
"Ned?"
There it was.
Though he didn't turn around. just kept looking down. He wasn't going to do anything. He really wasn't. But his lack of reaction was enough for Peter to take a shaky breath and pull off his mask, the rustling of the fabric giving it away to him.
"Ned. Hey, bud can you, can you come down from there for a second? I know it's your favourite spot but I uhm. Please?"
He sounded so scared he could almost physically feel it. The hurt, the confusion.
The hurt.
He had promised himself not to hurt anybody again because of his messed up brain and Peter sounded hurt.
"Ned, please come down from there."
Moving was still an impossible task but Peter asked him to do something so he did. He scooted back, hands still loosely grabbing the edge of the wall before he pulled his legs up and turned around, facing his friend.
"What's wrong bud?"
"I don't know man. I don't know."
It was hard, removing the happy part of him that always appeared when he was with friends. The happy part that wasn't truly happy. It had always come on automatically, turning it off in favour of being not only honest with his friend but also with himself was something he never imagined to be this difficult but he did it anyway.
"You- you weren't going to jump were you?"
"I don't think I was."
"You don't think? So you aren't sure you weren't either?"
"I'm not sure of anything man."
Peter was shaking as he looked at his friend, still sitting on the wall, still dangerously close to the drop he was edging towards mere seconds ago.
"Ned please come--please come down, will you? We'll talk about this if you want to but not while you're-..."
"yeah. Yeah sorry."
He hoped down, taking a few steps towards his friend to show he wasn't in danger. That he wouldn't try anything.
"Let's go home. You must be freezing. May will get us hot chocolate."
His friend's voice was gentle. Though the edge of panic still very much there as he laid a hand on Ned's underarm, silently urging him to follow him.
He really shouldn't feel like this. Just looking at how scared his friend was for his wellbeing drove that fact home painfully hard.
Still, he did though.
And still, he didn't feel bad for scaring Peter. Not as bad as he should've at least.
"come on let's get you home."
You're just tired of living and you're not sure if anyone can really help at that point.
They did go to the apartment. May looking up in surprise as Peter came in still in the Spiderman costume, holding onto his friend as if he was afraid he'd fade away into the thin air if he'd let him go.
"Hey May."
"Hey May."
"Hello, you two. Pete, you're past curfew we talked about this. And Ned, I thought you'd come over a few hours ago. Did something happen?"
"Actually he w-" "Nothing happened. Just got too shy to come in because Peter wasn't here yet."
May didn't believe him, he saw it at how she shifted slightly, how her smile lessened just a little bit.
But she didn't comment on it. Trusting it wasn't of crucial importance if he didn't want to tell her.
"Ned you're welcome anytime even if this doof isn't here yet because he needs to play hero. I'll make you two something hot to drink and you can pick out a movie. No math homework or star wars talk today for the both of you, we're doing movie night."
Peter grunted in fake protest and Ned smiled at her slightly before they went to Peter's room, the boy in question closing the door and locking it quickly before finally letting go of his friend as he turned around towards him.
" Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know. You have questions so if you want an answer I can try to give it to you."
"I know you can or will try Ned. But I need to know if you're okay with talking about it."
"Yeah, I think so."
They talked quietly as they changed into their pyjamas, One of Ned's laying in Peter's closet as per usual so if they decided to do one of their many many sleepovers he wouldn't have to take too much with him.
He stopped changing as he noticed Peter, who had finished a bit before, looking at him, close to examining him.
"Do you have these kinds of urges often? To uhm-to harm yourself?"
Scars. He was looking for scars.
Of course.
He didn't have any though. He wouldn't want to hurt people like that. Didn't see a reason to do so.
"It's called being passive suicidal."
The word made Peter flinch as if he was suddenly hit with the reality of it all. As if, if they just wouldn't call it by name, it wouldn't really be there.
"Passive as in...?"
"As in wanting to die but not actively trying to do so. So not minding being run over by a car but not jumping in front of one."
"Okay..."
Peters' voice was shaky again, so we're his hands. He couldn't see them of course. Peter had put them in his hoodie pockets. But he was sure that if his friend were to hold them up they would be shaking.
"But today you sat- you were going to-"
"Yeah. I don't uhm- I don't know what happened there. I guess I zoned out and I went from passive to active for a moment. I would never actually do it though you know that right? I couldn't hurt my family like that. Hurt you like that."
Peter nodded. Though Ned knew he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure he wouldn't try again.
And he knew that Peter would act differently around him now. That he'd glance down at his arms when they were exposed to check if he still kept the promise of not harming himself.
He'd check up on him more. Be more careful of what he said or did.
It'd be annoying. Because it meant that he wouldn't be himself around him. Not fully anyhow.
"Pete I want you to know that I'll never do anything okay? You can trust me that I won't. And that I'll call you if I find myself going bad again okay? But please can you- can we just be normal? Just be us okay?"
"Just be us."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Now come on. May is waiting and we really need to watch Sharknado this time."
"That movie is terrible though!"
"That's the whole point man! Come on!"
As they walked out of the room Ned knew they couldn't be just them anymore. Not like they were before.
But Peter tried his best to just let them be as close to them as they could get after this. And he appreciated that more than he could ever put into words.
And maybe he felt dangerously numb still. And he knew there'd be certain days on which passive would turn into active again for a moment or two. And maybe he wasn't okay.
But he would be.
Eventually.
But for now, they'd just be them.
As much as they could be.