Notes: I kinda went into a zone writing this one, so I hope it comes across clearly like it did to me while I was writing it. My thought process was a little whack while I wrote this so yeah.

Tags: Tags: dissociation, depression, intrusive thoughts, self-harm, attempted suicide. Please be careful with this one my loves!!!

-

Sound the bugle now

Play it just for me

As the seasons change

Remember how I used to be

Now I can't go on

I can't even start

I got nothing left

Just an empty heart

I'm a soldier wounded

So I must give up the fight

There's nothing more for me

Lead me away

Or leave me lying here

Peter woke to fog. A thick, hazy, fog that made him feel heavy and like he was floating away at the same time. He woke up and he knew it was a grey day.

He hated grey days. They were the days where everything and everyone felt just out of reach. He constantly felt like he was drowning in the deepest, darkest part of the ocean only to suddenly feel as if he was floating in space, watching everything happen around him with no way of getting back down.

On grey days he hurt. His head, his body, his heart, everything hurt.

He knew he was lucky because on those days May or - if he was staying at the tower - Tony would know and would let him stay home. More often than not, one of them would stay with him, and if they couldn't then they had someone else, like Rhodey, Pepper, or even Happy, MJ, or Ned, stay with him.

It didn't always stop the thoughts. The dark, terrifying, consuming thoughts. There wasn't always a way to stop them, sometimes he just had to ride it out and on those days the only person that could get through to him was Tony. But Tony was in Beijing after a sudden SI emergency there and wouldn't be back until later that night.

He knew that he should have called Tony or someone when the first few thoughts appeared. But he didn't and that was his downfall.

It was as if the thoughts took the darkest most hidden thoughts from him… and blew them up at the forefront of his mind. There wasn't a way to tune them out, there wasn't a miracle off button he could press, there was nothing.

He was stuck in a spiral of you're not worth anything.

You don't deserve May's love after killing her husband.

Orphan.

The only good thing you do is be Spiderman and you still screw that up.

Ned isn't really your friend. He just hangs around because you're Spiderman.

Tony only keeps you around to keep an eye on you so he doesn't have to feel responsible when you do something wrong again.

Burden.

Maybe if you weren't here your parents and Ben would still be alive.

May wouldn't have to work so much if you weren't around.

Tony wouldn't be woken up at night by your nightmares and spirals, nevermind injuries from patrol.

Worthless.

It would be so easy...

A step off the roof of the tower.

Swallowing a bottle of the pills made to work with his metabolism.

A web around his neck and letting himself drop from the tall penthouse ceilings.

A knife from the kitchen to draw his life from his arms.

Peter felt himself get up from the couch in the living room as if he was in a trance.

He walked out to the kitchen, his hand finding the sharpest knife towards the back of the cutlery drawer.

Somewhere in the background, he heard a voice say something about not listening and alerting someone but it was quickly forgotten.

His body was still on autopilot, feeling like he was watching himself from the outside.

He felt himself walk out to the stairs leading to the upper floor of the penthouse where the bedrooms and bathrooms were.

All of a sudden he was in his bathroom sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bath, looking down at his arm. Drops of red formed before flowing from the wounds, painting his skin in veins of red.

Sound the bugle now

Tell them I don't care

There's not a road I know

That leads to anywhere

Without a light, I fear that I will

Stumble in the dark

Lay right down, decide not to go on

It was like a flood when he came back to himself.

The feeling of the floor, the awareness of everything around him, the blade in his hand, it overwhelmed him.

'No no no! Please no!' He thought, 'I don't wanna go! I never really wanted to go, I wanted to stay! I need May and Tony. I can't do this!'

A broken sob fell from his mouth. "FRIDAY! Help me! Call Tony or- or May! Please! I didn't mean to do this! I don- I don't-" he couldn't get any words past the lump in his throat.

His vision started to darken and he didn't know if it was from the panic surging through him or from the blood loss. His head slumped against the bath behind him. The lure of sleep became stronger and he saw the door being blown open (when had he closed, never mind locked, the door?), pieces of wood and metal from the lock falling to the floor.

"Fuck! No please no!" He heard a voice cry out in terror. He knew that voice. "Don't do this to me, Peter! Don't leave me, Kid!" He felt himself being lifted into strong arms, head lolling against a firm chest. A soft light near his head that he couldn't make sense of.

"Please stay awake. Don't close your eyes. C'mon, Pete, please!" The same familiar voice from earlier sobbed.

It was the last thing he heard as he fell into unconsciousness.

Then from on high

Somewhere in the distance

There's a voice that calls

Remember who you are

If you lose yourself

Your courage soon will follow

So be strong tonight

Remember who you are

Yeah

You're a soldier now

Fighting in a battle

To be free once more

Yeah, that's worth fighting for