Depression
Three Months after the snap
Three Months and A Week After Harley finds Out
Depression
Abbie stared at her phone.
She hadn’t been on it much since the snap. It had been three months or so since it, and she was still trying her best to help her dad and Miles and everyone she can, get back on their feet. No time to really think about phones or friends.
Her background was a photo of Lila Barton and Jesse Thompson, grinning at her over some matcha ice cream down in a dinner somewhere in queens. The photo was light, filtering in a way that made Abbie think of summer days. Probably because it had been a summer day.
It wasn’t summer anymore. And she had no time to be looking at a picture on her phone.
She had a brother to drag out of his room.
She loved Harley with all of her heart, but the boy needed to get out of that dark closed off space. It wasn’t good for him to be wallowing in his room, especially now.
He hadn’t gotten out of there since he had gotten back from the church a week ago. And if Abbie hadn’t known better she would think her brother was dead. But Abbie did know better, she knew better and more importantly, she knew her brother. Plus the fact that Friday was constantly monitoring the status of everyone in the entire tower helped.
Harley just hadn’t gotten out of his room in a week. A solid week in total isolation.
She was pretty sure that her dad had tried to get in there, but Harley had enlisted a total blackout policy. Which she wasn’t really sure how he had gotten access to that since he wasn’t allowed full control over the AI’s, but who was she to question her brothers methods, especially when she knew that everyone in the tower could hack through it.
She just wasn't sure they wanted too.
More specifically she wasn’t sure her dad wanted to. She loved Tony Stark with all her heart- he was the only dad she had ever truly known- but the man sometimes confused her. Harley was sad, but that doesn't mean that he should just break away from society and mope around all day. He just needed a little shove to rejoin the general public and then he’d be right as rain. Or as right as rain could be when there's acid in the air.
She stood in front of his door, a sense of deja vu washing over her as she spoke out to Harley through the door, “Can I come in?”
There was no response, but Abbie wasn’t surprised about that. He could be on the other side of the room, or asleep. She sighed, “Please?”
Still nothing.
“Friday, let me in.”
“Harley has requested a total blackout, Little Boss.”
“Total blackout has never applied to me before, Fri.”
The AI seemed to think on their words, “This is slightly difference. Before, any time Mini Boss enacted protocol it was for work. He enacted this one for solitude.”
“Just let me in.”
“Alright.”
The door opened with a soft hiss.
Harley’s room was inky black. The only light in the room came from a small nightlight that Abbie knew was Peter Parkers. Or at least, was at Peter’s apartment usually. Harley must have brought it here the last time he had visited Peter’s place. She slipped into the room, sliding the curtains open a bit, letting more light in.
Despite the fact that Harley was facing the wall, his breathing normal, the room looked as if it was a tomb. Everything was so still, not the well loved well lived in chaos that she usually associated with her brother.
There were no machine parts laying on the floor. No blueprints on the desk. No well loved and well worn goggles on the door handle of the closet. Any tub of leftover grease that he kept in his room for spares was gone. Clean. Gray. Dead. That's what the room felt like.
But Harley himself wasn’t dead.
He was breathing on the bed, and was awake from what Abbie could tell. She stepped towards him, “Hey.”
Harley turned slightly, craning his neck to see her, “Hey.”
His voice sounded gone from lack of use and Abbie found herself flinching at the roughness of it. Her brothers eyes were red, rimmed with unshed tears that clearly had been falling a lot if the dried tear tracks were any indicator. They looked so…. empty. They were not anything like her brothers eyes, usually full of mischief and life. She blinked.
“You planning on coming out of your room anytime soon?” Abbie sat on the desk, “You know there's a world out there.”
“I don’t want to.”
Abbie frowned, “Yeah but you really should.”
“Nah. I think I just wanna stay in bed for awhile.”
Harley returned to looking at the wall, and Abbie knew a dismissal when she saw one. But she wasn’t about to leave him alone now. Not when he clearly needs to get out of bed and do something, anything to help himself feel better.
“Come on,” She kept her voice light, a trick she had learned from Pepper, “You need to get out and say hi to Tony or Miles.”
“I’m tired, Abbie.”
“You’ve been in your room all week, probably sleeping,” Abbie countered, “You should get out of bed.”
“I’m just kind of tired.”
“You haven’t been doing anything all week, though!”
“Abbie,” Harley’s voice was exhausted and cracking, “I just don’t feel good right now. I wanna be alone.”
“But-”
“Please?”
Abbie blinked back.
Her brothers voice was destroyed. Maybe not in an overt way. If she was anyone else she would think that he was apathetic. But she wasn’t anyone else. She was Abbie Keener. And she knew her brother.
Harley was never apathetic.
He was never this quiet. His voice never had that tilt of complete and utter brokenness. He sounded like he was giving up.
Abbie blinked, “Okay.”
She would be back again, she knew as she turned on her heel and walked to the door. A soft hiss and the room locked behind her. She stared at the wall across from his door. Her brother sounded like he wanted to give up.
Harley wasn’t known to give up. She had never known Harley to give up. When they were younger… and now he just never truly gave up everything no matter how bad the situation got. Because they were Keeners. Because they were Keener-Starks. They didn’t just give up.
They found new ways to do it. New ways to succeed.
And yet her brother was still laying in his bed with a stare of complete and utter destruction. With eyes like glass. Lifeless and listless.
She frowned.
She would try again tomorrow.
Three Months after the snap
Three Months and Two Weeks After Harley finds Out
Depression
“Dad has a plan,” Abbie grinned at her brother as she walked in the room, “He has a plan and he’s gonna fix it!”
Harley didn’t sit up, but to be honest, Abbie wasn’t expecting him too. Or at least wasn’t expecting him to sit up until she explained that their dad had a plan and it was going to fix everything. It was the best thing she had ever heard, to be honest, because it meant everyone was going to be back! Everyone was going to be back, and everyone would be happy again.
Abbie sat at the foot of his bed, facing him and crossing her legs, “He has a plan to fix what Thanos did.”
“I know.”
“Wha-” Abbie blinked, confused, “How do you know? He literally just announced it!”
“He came to talk to me about it last night, when he realized it.”
“Then why aren’t you more excited?”
“Abbie,” Harley sat up, and she could see the exhaustion in his face. It was written in his eyes, which were dull from lack of sleep, and maybe something more. She was confused, “It won’t work.”
“What do you mean it won’t work?” Abbie felt her voice raise in pitch, “Of course it will!”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t.”
“Harley,” Abbie was aware on how scathing her voice sounded to her own ears. She sounded like their mom used to when Harley blew up something without her permission, and she almost wanted to flinch at her own voice. But Harley didn’t flinch, just kept looking at something directly over her shoulder, “Why?”
Harley sighed, “It's just all hypotheticals. It’s not solid, and Tony genuinely doesn’t know if it will work.”
“But it will!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Well we have to hope that!”
Harley’s entire body slumped in on itself a little further, “We can hope that, yes.”
“But you don’t hope that,” Abbie came to a realization, “You don’t think it will work. You genuinely don’t think it will work. This isn’t you being a butt, this is you genuinely thinking it wont work. That they’ll fail.”
Harley stayed silent. But it was all the confirmation that Abbie needed.
“Fucking unbelievable,” she growled, getting off her brothers bed, “You’ve spent the last three months rattling off theories about where they could be and how to get them back and when push come to shove-”
Harley’s eyes snapped to hers, “I gave up on those theories because they didn’t make sense-”
“Even though you’re being offered a chance to see if you can get him back-”
“I want him to get back-”
“Yet you don’t think it will work-”
“I cant-”
“Can’t what-”
“I can’t keep hoping-”
“So you don’t even wanna hold onto the idea that he could come back-”
“Abigail!”
“Harley, why the fuck-”
“Shut up!” Harley’s voice held so much emotion, “ Of course I want Peter back! But what the fuck do you think is going to happen if they lose?! I CAN'T AFFORD TO GET MY HOPES UP-”
“BUT YOU WONT EVEN LET YOURSELF THINK IT WILL WORK-”
“BECAUSE WHAT IF IT DOESN’T?” Her brother yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking, “what if it doesn't and I let myself think it does and it doesn’t?! What if I let myself believe I’ll have him back only to have everything ripped away from me again?! I can’t fucking go through that again! That’s why I don’t think it will work! That’s why I’m not even going to fight! I can’t! I can’t hold onto a belief that he’s going to be back only to not get that! I can’t do shit! Because if I let myself believe that he’s going to be back- that he’ll be here to hold me and love me and be with me again- and it turns out he won’t be back- that it was all some stupid thing we tried and failed- do you know what that’ll do to me?!”
She stopped, processing his words, “You’re not even going to fight?”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
“I don’t understand,” Abbie shook her head, looking at him again, “I don’t understand.”
“I just can’t fight a battle that I don’t know for sure we’ll win,” Harley told her, voice softer than it had been moments ago, “I’m sorry I snapped, and I’m sorry I yelled, but I can’t fight in something that might not even save him.”
Abbie blinked back, shaking her head again, “I’m sorry for pushing- but I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I just don’t get it, Harley,” Her head was spinning with all the reasons why, “You care about him so much. Isn’t it worth it? Isn’t even the chance to have him back worth it?"
“Of course it is-”
“Then why won’t you fight?”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Harley looked away from her, focusing on his hands. On the ring, “What if it doesn’t work and I thought it would. What happens then, Abbie?"
“You find a new way.”
“There is no new way.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I just,” he paused, before shaking his head, “I can’t fight.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.”
She walked to the door, turning slightly when she reached the frame, “He would’ve fought for you.”
“He always was the better one of us.”
Four Months after the snap
Three Months and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out
Depression
“Tony?”
Her dad looked up from his plans, eyes startled before settling on his daughter with a soft and fond expression, one she knew was reserved for just his kids, “Yeah kid?”
“Can we talk?”
The fond expression slipped off his face as it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. He nodded and she stepped into the room, which was filled to the brim of reminders of what was to come. Of the real final battle.
She sat down next to him, “Harley isn’t going to fight.”
“I know that,” Tony’s brow furrowed deeper, “Is that okay?”
“I just don’t understand why he won’t fight, I guess.”
“Kiddo,” Tony was trying to soften his voice best he could, she could tell. She loved her dad but he always was bad at being gentle when he was upset, “He’s grieving.”
“But shouldn’t that grief be used to get him back?”
“That's not how grief works.”
“Then I don't understand how it works,” Abbie admitted with a shrug, “I just don't get why he’s… like this. I don’t know.”
“Like this?”
“He won’t get out of bed,” She told Tony what she was sure he already knew, “And despite not leaving his bed he won’t sleep. He won’t eat unless explicitly told too- he’s losing weight at an alarming rate. He just kind of sits there, staring at the wall. And I can tell he’s on the brink of breaking down because everytime I pass by his door now days, he’s always talking to Peter like he's there when Peter isn’t.”
Tony’s entire body deflated, some sort of realization in his eyes, “He’s depressed.”
“Harley doesn’t get depressed.”
“Everyone gets depressed.”
“Not my brother.”
“Yes,” Tony told her softly, “Even your brother gets depressed.”
“But he’s Harley!”
“But he also just lost someone he loves very much.”
“But we’re getting him back.”
Her dad’s eyes were sad, slightly broken, and it really made him look his age. It made him look like a dad that didn’t know what to do, “That doesn’t matter.”
“It should.”
“You’re right,” He admitted to her, “It should. But it doesn’t. Logically, Harley isn’t hurt. He’s not wounded. He’s not dying. He’s okay and he’s stable. But emotionally? Harley is destroyed. Peter was a huge part of his life, who was suddenly just ripped away from him in the worst way possible. Especially for Harley who has always had so much faith in Peter and Peter’s ability to come back. And now all of that- all that faith, all that love- has been torn to shreds because Peter isn’t here right now-”
“But he’s going to be here,” Abbie protested, “Y’all are gonna save him and it will be oaky- so Harley should get his ass out of bed and help!”
“It's not that simple.”
“Its plenty simple.”
“Abbie…” Tony seemed to think on his words for a second, “Do you remember when your mom died.”
Abbie bristled. It’d been three years, and she still couldn’t handle the mention of it without feeling horrible. She blinked hard, “Of course.”
“He’s finally grieving.”
“What does my mom have to do with that?”
“A lot, if we’re honest-”
“I don’t wanna talk about this right now,” She said, standing up and walking away from her dad, shoving her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, “I’ll see you later, dad.”
“Abbie,” Pepper’s voice sounded from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?”
“Could I stop you?”
The door opened with a hiss to show Pepper with her arms crossed, “Ha ha, very funny.”
“Is this about yesterday?” Abbie skipped their usual banter, “Because if it is, I really don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Yesterday?”
“With Tony?”
Pepper blinked and shuffled to move inside the room and sit on the bed, “I wasn’t aware there was a yesterday, to be honest.”
“There was a yesterday.”
“What was it about?”
“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” Abbie huffed, feeling a tad bit like a snake with people tapping on the glass, “The gist of it is I think Harley should fight, and Tony asked me questions about my mom. Its whatever. I just kind of want to read.”
“Reading your feelings away?” Pepper hummed under her breath, “You did that then too.”
Abbie sat up, putting her book to the side, “what do you mean.”
“When you first came to live with us, you read a lot.”
“Why does that matter?”
“You were grieving.”
“So?”
“Abbie,” Pepper sighed softly, “You and Harley are more similar than you think.”
“We’re siblings,” Abbie pointed out, “Of course we’re similar.”
“You two grieve the same.”
Abbie looked at her adopted mom, “What do you mean?”
“You were like this when you first came here,” Pepper shrugged softly, “Sad. Sullen. Withdrawn. After your mom died… you might not remember it.”
That was a fair statement. It’d been three years, and she remembered her moms actual death. The month after that though, not really. She remembered a lot more of her time in the care of the Starks after she had started going to school.
She didn’t remember after her mom died. Pepper must have taken that as a sign to continue though, because she did, “You got really sick a few days after your mom's funeral. At first we thought it was because you weren’t feeling well, but it turns out you hadn’t been sleeping or eating much. You cried a lot, so you were very very dehydrated… it was hard seeing you like that.”
She blinked. She definitely didn’t remember getting sick.
Pepper continued with no comment on her silence, “It was hard on Harley too. He didn’t know what to do or how to help. And he wanted to help as best as he could. But he just didn’t know how. You were inconsolable. It was hard on everyone. You-”
“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Abbie stood up, her hands shaking.
She didn’t remember this.
She didn’t remember grieving like that.
She didn’t remember getting sick.
And she didn’t want to.
She walked away from Pepper, trying to stop her hands.
She didn’t want Harley to get sick. To waste away.
She ran to Harley’s room, away from Pepper in the living room, and started banging on his door. It opened with a hiss and he was sitting up in bed, eyes wide with something she thought could be panic, “Harley!”
“Are you okay?” Her brother asked, his voice still hoarse from disuse, “What’s wrong?”
“Get out of bed!”
“What?”
“You have to get out of bed,” Abbie moved towards him, grabbing his hand, “You need to!”
“Okay,” Harley still looked concerned, “Why?”
“You just need to!”
“Abbie,” His voice was perturbed, “Whats going on?”
“You can’t waste away!”
“I’m not-”
“Then get out of bed!”
Harley inhaled, “I just don’t feel well.”
“Why?!”
“I just don’t-”
“Please?”
A silence ran over the siblings, and Abbie could feel her temper rising, biting at her to yell and try to get him to react with anything but concern or apathy. She was still shaking, “Get out.”
“Abbie-”
Abbie cut him off, “Get out and fight! Get out and fight or something! Join them to go fight, just- just- get out of bed.”
“Abbie,” Harley’s voice rang with warning and unease, “I told you why I wasn’t going to fight. I don’t wanna talk about it again-”
“Then get out of bed and do something!” Abbie pleaded, aware she sounded like a mad man, “God fucking dammit Harley!”
“Abbie,” He repeated, “You need to calm down. I just don’t feel too well right now.”
You can’t be fucking depressed forever!” She ran her hands through her hair, a nervous tick she new she had taken from him, “You need to fucking do something!”
“I don’t feel well-”
“You need to get over it!” Abbie threw her hands up and out in frustration, that she knew wasn’t really frustration at all, but concern, “You need to get over it, please!”
By the end of her sentence she was shouting as loud as she could without screaming, suddenly aware that she had been slowly growing in volume along her little tirade. Harley had just been sitting there, taking the shouting without flinching. She blinked back, aware of what she just said.
Because what she just said wasn’t right.
Harley didn’t need to get over it. He was mourning Peter, and that was okay. What wasn’t okay was that she was reacting like this, all anger and anguish, in an attempt to make him better. He wasn’t better. He wasn’t going to be better.
He wasn’t going to be better, just because she didn’t understand why. He wasn’t going to feel better just because she wanted him to. He wasn’t going to get better just because she wanted him to. And it was stupid of her to ask that of him. It was all stupid.
And yet here she was yelling at him for something he couldn’t control. All because she didn’t understand. Because she didn't understand.
“I’m sorry,” She whispered, looking at him with what she suspected were tears, “I shouldn’t be shouting at you right now. You don’t have to get over it. I’m sorry.”
After what felt like several billion hours, which might have only been seconds, she turned on her heel, away from her brother.
She couldn’t face him right now.
Four Months after the snap
Three Months and Three Weeks After Harley finds Out
Depression
“Harley?” Abbie whispered into the darkness of her brothers room, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”
When they were younger, they had shared a room. By default, whenever had a Abbie had nightmare or was generally not okay, Harley was always there for her. They hadn’t shared a room in three years. Especially not in the last year when Harley found himself sharing a bed with Peter more often than not.
But it was still something they found themselves doing. Whenever Abbie was afraid to sleep because of anything, she came to stay with her older brother. And more often than not, Peter joined them on the sleepovers after him and Harley started dating.
It didn’t change the fact that it only ever happened when Abbie was seriously upset.
Harley moved against the darkness, turning on a lamp to look at her, “Are you okay?”
“I don't wanna be alone,” She admitted, trudging over to her brother, “I don't want you to be alone either.”
“I’m okay.”
Abbie sat on the bed, her voice soft, “You’re really not.”
Harley stayed silent for a second, before lying down again, turning off the lamp, “Neither are you.”
“I-” Abbie blinked, her feelings bubbling up in her chest. Her mind flashed to their mom, “Do you remember when dad left?”
“Yeah,” Harley rolled to be facing her, “I do.”
“Mom always talked about how you stepped up.”
“I had to.”
Abbie lied down, facing him, “Mom always talked about how hard that first year was. How I was upset and inconsolable and how you really stepped in as a brother because she was always gone.”
“I wanted to,” Harley shrugged in the darkness, his voice just as soft, “When he left you cried for days when you seemingly realized that he wasn’t coming back. And Mom was suddenly so busy with everything she had to do to make sure we had enough money to live. So I took care of you.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“You’re my baby sister, Abbie,” Harley told her, “No matter what kind of fights we get in, what kind of arguments, I still care about you.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been like this.”
“Don’t be,” Abbie told him honestly, “You have a right to mourn and be upset. Peter was your everything and now… I’m sorry I’ve been so me about all of this.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s really not.”
“Maybe it’s not.”
Abbie chuckled sadly, “It’s not. Me yelling at you and screaming at you just because I don’t understand how you’re feeling isn’t okay.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Abbie shushed him, “I’m always right.”
The two stayed in silence for a moment. The only sound was their own breathing, and Abbie thought back to a time when she was young and they had split the room up with a sheet that their mom had dubbed the Berlin Wall. It had cut off all the light from the nightlight from the bathroom, so it was always pitch black. She and Harley had talked through the sheet until the fight was over.
She smiled at the memory.
Harley broke the silence, because for as long as Harley Keener existed, he hated silence, “Do you think mom would be proud of us?”
“I think she would.”
“I know she would be proud of you,” Harley shrugged in the inky darkness again, “She was always proud of you.”
“She was always proud of you too.”
“She didn’t know I was gay.”
Abbie raised an eyebrow at the statement, “She wouldn’t have cared. Mom loved us more than she loved anything in the world. She would have accepted you without hesitation. And she would have loved Peter.”
“Yeah,” Harley breathed out, “She would have loved him.”
“And he would have loved her.”
“Yeah,” Harley repeated, “He would have loved her.”
“Are you okay?”
“Not really,” Harley’s voice sounded like a breeze coated in sorrow, “I keep asking myself what if she had been here.”
“She would have loved everything.”
“She would have loved him,” Harley shifted onto his back, “And she would have been so excited when he proposed to me.”
Abbie inhaled sharply, “He would have asked her for permission. Like he asked me.”
“He was sweet like that.”
“He was.”
“We were going to get married, Abbie.”
“I know.”
“I just,” Harley’s voice was shaky, “I just… he was going to propose to me on the roof of Stark Tower. Did you know that?”
“I did.”
“He was going to propose to me on the roof of Stark Tower, because that place means so much to us,” Abbie felt tears well in her eyes at the raw heartbreak in her brothers voice, “The first time we kissed. Our first real fight. Our first real time saying I love you. All on Stark Tower. And he was going to propose on the roof.”
Harley sniffled, his voice still shaking, “And I would have said yes, because it was going to be so perfect. He would have some romantic cheesy speech prepared but he’d be so nervous he’d stumble over his words with jitters but he wouldn’t need it because I would have said yes the second he pulled out the ring. And I would have been so happy.”
“I was gonna be happy, Abbie,” Harley whispered into the darkness, “I was going to be so happy. I was gonna marry the love of my life and we were gonna be happy. Tony was gonna walk me down the aisle, and you and MJ and Shuri would be my grooms maids. It was going to be perfect. And I would have been so so so happy. And right when Tony gave me away, you and I would have looked at each other because we both knew that mom was here with us. That mom was proud of us. What we’ve done with our lives.”
“And after college,” Harley’s voice caught, “After we were stable, we would have gotten kids. Macy May. After mom and May. And she would have been perfect. God our lives would have been so good. And I would be have been so so so happy.”
Harley was crying now, “But I can’t be happy. I can’t be happy now. Now that he’s gone.”
That's when it hit her.
Peter Parker was gone.
Peter Parker was gone, and so was May Parker. So were Jesse Thompson and Lila Barton. So were her friends from school. So was half the population.
They were all gone. They were all gone and they had no way to come back. And god if that didn’t hurt so much more than it had any right too.
She hadn’t wanted to think about it at all. Hadn’t wanted to dwell on the dead. She’d just wanted to live, to make sure she was safe. That Harley was safe. That Miles was safe. That they were going to be okay. But she had refused to think of the dead.
She didn’t want to think about Peter Parker, who was a second brother- a future brother in law. She didn’t want to think about all the times Peter had made her laugh uncontrollably when she was sad. To think of all the times that Peter had helped her pull a prank on Harley. She didn’t want to think of how Peter Parker was now dead.
To think of May Parker who had become her aunt in so many ways. To think of all the times May had helped her be herself. To think of all the times that May had known what to do when no one else did. She didn’t want to think of how now May Parker was dead.
She hadn’t wanted to think of Jesse Thompson, with her long black hair and shy smile. She didn’t want to think of how many times Jesse had helped her with her math homework. Or how Jesse used to make jokes about things that flew over her head. She hadn’t wanted to think about how Jesse Thompson was dead.
She never wanted to think about how Lila- Lila, sweet Lila- was dead.
But it hit her.
And it hit her hard.
She cried, for the first real time that since the decimation.
She cried for Lila Barton. She cried for Jesse Thompson. She cried for Aunt May. She cried for Peter Parker.
And she cried for her brother.