A/N: I was just thinking about how differently people seem to view MCU Peter: super depressed, or pure and untouchable. So this is me analyzing some reasons why Peter Parker is Not Okay. It's mostly written with Spider-Man: Homecoming in mind, but I pulled from Amazing Spider-Man too. Enjoy?

"Are you okay?"

Lately, people were always asking Peter if he was okay. Like any other teenager, he always insisted that he was fine. Just fine. He had his best friend Ned, the warm and comforting love of Aunt May, and Tony Stark as a mentor. He was cheerful, even cracking jokes at the criminals he apprehended. He smiled with his teeth; big, honest, full of hope. So when it came to people asking if he was okay, he didn't even think about it.

Why wouldn't he be?

He never thought about it - until Captain America asked, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

For once, Peter hesitated on the instinct to insist that he was fine, really thinking about it for the first time.

Why wouldn't he be okay?

Sure, his parents died when he was a kid, but he barely remembered them, so how could that affect him now, at 15 years old? After all, Aunt May and Uncle Ben were amazing guardians. They were basically his parents at this point, although calling them Mom and Dad never felt right. Even still, with them he felt warm and safe, as a home should. They provided and cared for him, and showed him the wonders of New York City. Sometimes he missed his parents; the slight ache of knowing that he would never run home to tell his mom about the 98% he got on his math test. That it would never be his dad ruffling his hair and telling him "Nice job, sport." Aunt May and Uncle Ben were great, but they weren't Mom and Dad.

But that was fine, he assured himself. He loved them all the same, and how could that not be okay?

At least, that was the constant until Uncle Ben was murdered right in front of him. Peter spent months tracking down the person who had done it, until the criminals all looked the same and he could barely remember what the killer even looked like. He blamed it on the lack of sleep. Things changed when he first saved a life. The gratitude and pure relief that flooded people's faces when they realized that their loved ones were safe filled Peter with so much emotion. Pride and joy. The knowledge that a child got to go home safe in his father's arms. The tendrils of envy wrapping around his heart made the smile under the mask falter. He wished that he could have had that moment; that Uncle Ben would hold him, safe and sound.

He pushed that aside, focusing on the happiness. He was helping people, and that made it all okay. Didn't it?

He truly became Spider-Man then. Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. Saving cats in trees, stopping muggings, giving directions. He even met Tony Stark! Got the chance to fight alongside him! Of course, the fight left him with some seriously bruised ribs, but it was still cool. He wanted to know more about the dude with the metal arm. He wanted more fights with the Avengers; preferably with them all on the same team. But coming home, his life settled back into the Friendly Neighbourhood action. Until Vulture showed up with some seriously destructive weapons made from alien tech and dropped a building on him. Peter had never been so scared in his life, or in more danger. Lying there, he had wished he could curl up and cry, but there was a ton of rubble on him and no one was coming to help. So he got himself free then jumped right in the middle of a plane crash and the vulture wings exploding. If he hadn't been Spider-Man, he definitely would have died on three (3) separate occasions that night.

He saved a lot of people though, and even if he died doing it, that would be okay.

Or so he kept telling himself.

Looking up into Captain America's imploring blue eyes, he wasn't so sure.

Peter Parker was not okay, and Steve Rogers knew it.