Trigger Warning: Panic Attack and semi-suicidal and hateful thoughts, read at your own disgression

(2 months later, Peter POV in third person bcs I kinda forgot I was doing Peter's POV and not just narrating lol)

Peter smiled as Ham walked into the kitchen of their small flat, the 14-year-old's hair a mess. 'Sleep good?' Peter asked kindly, flipping over the pancake.

Ham nodded enthusiastically: 'Ready for another day of being awesome!' he cheered, plopping down at the kitchen table.

Peter chuckled to himself: Ham had been enjoying school a lot lately: he had immediately fit in and whenever he did something out of the ordinary, that any other teenager wouldn't do, people just blamed it on his depressing past and shot him pitying looks, though this didn't bother Ham in the slightest.

Peter smiled as he realised he had already started referring to the kid as Ham, not as Gideon. He really was playing his part of any normal teenager out there. He had quickly risen in respect amongst his classmates, when he managed to break the school's record of the most pushups - 32 - and turned the record into 59.

The day Ham had did that he had become the most popular guy there. He had told Peter the story when they sat down for dinner, chuckling at the fact that he could've done way more than just 59, but didn't want to be suspicious.

In short: Ham was enjoying himself, but Peter had noticed something had been bothering the kid. Every time he brought it up, Ham just shied away from the subject; saying everything was alright and there was nothing to worry about.

Peter's thoughts had immediately shifted towards HYDRA? Had they found them? After a bit of 'light' research, he had found this was not so - the research being hacking into HYDRA's database and also into that of SHIELD, an organisation Peter had found about a month prior.

Ham was now swinging his legs as he eyed Peter sceptically: 'The pancake is burning.' he told Peter with a smile.

Peter flushed red as he realised that in fact, the pancake was burning: 'Uhh... sorry.' he said with a groan, quickly flipping it out of the pan.

'Ehh, it's fine,' Ham said with a shrug, stuffing the burnt half-baked batter into his mouth, 'It's not like I've never eaten worse.' he added with a chuckle, making Peter stiffen slightly.

Ham joked about it so easily, while Peter, he just tried to avoid the subject in it's entirety. It was really weird, them being brothers now and all: before they escaped HYDRA, Peter had never even met the kid! They had just been locked into a cell together the night that they escaped - the night Peter had planned his escape.

Ham didn't know of course, he didn't know about the years of meticulous research Peter had done of the lay-out of the base, or of the shifts of the guards: he just thought they had been lucky, and Peter was fine with him thinking that.

One of the reasons Ham was probably okay with discussing HYDRA, was that he had only been there for a week before he had joined Peter in his cell. Ham's parents had died when he was younger, and the kid had lived on the streets ever since. Not the best childhood, but Peter's had been arguably worse. Heck, Ham had probably never even been tortured during his time in HYDRA.

Peter smiled at that thought: it was nice to know Ham had never had to go through what he did, though it did make him a bit jealous: Ham was so good at letting his emotions show on his face, whereas Peter was a hot mess when it came to emotions.

Emotions meant weakness. He really tried his best to not be monotone, but it was just his permanent resting face at this point, which made many people give him weird glances. Whenever he tried to smile, it came out weird and people complained he was smiling creepily.

Being a teenager was definitely not all the fun he thought it would be, but at least it was more fun than the other stuff he could be doing right now, which was a plus.

(Ham POV)

I watched bemusedly as Peter burned a pancake, once again the vacant look in his eyes that he sported way too often, which either meant:

a: He was thinking about science

b: He was thinking about chemistry

c: He was thinking about smart-people stuff in general

d: He was thinking about his time in Hydra

e: He was thinking about me

Right now, it was option e: if he were thinking about science, chemistry or whatever, he would have a tiny curve in his lips, one only few people could notice. If he were thinking about HYDRA his face would be devoid entirely of emotion, which only left option e, the one I liked the most to see, and hated at the same time. He was thinking about me, and his eyes would be filled with love, but I hated it because I knew he was worrying about me. He was the perfect older brother.

And yet, I wanted more.

I wanted to be normal, I wanted my mum to pick me up from school or a dad who did that. Don't get me wrong, Peter really had grown on my like a brother-figure, but there was only so much he could offer. And I just wished for a family.

Of course, I didn't tell him that. I was lucky! He had only known me for a day, then took pity on me and helped me. He took me with him on his escape route, then without question took me in as his younger brother, not even really knowing me. I grinned to myself as I ate the rest of the pancake I had just taken from him: he really had a saviour complex.

In all fairness, I knew something was bothering him, and it wasn't just me. He was restless - it probably came with him being such an adrenaline junky - and it was showing, though only to me, who had got used to deciphering his cryptic facial expressions, or the lack thereof.

I grabbed my backpack as I quickly glanced at the clock: it was high time I went to catch the bus. 'See ya Pete!' I called behind me as I rushed out the door, just in time to hear him grumble that his name was supposed to be Lix. I merely chuckled as I slammed the door behind me, running at a jog so I could still catch the bus in time.

I came to the busstop 5 minutes before the bus was due: I had run for nothing. I plopped down on the bench and stared into the distance, contemplating which classes I was going to take this day (honestly I never knew until I reached school andactuallychecked my schedule).

I wasn't dumb of course, I was just... not the smartest either. I guess I was just average.

Peter, however, he was genius. Straight A student from what I had heard. We had been enrolled in the same school a month ago, but he soon got a scholarship to a school called Midtown Tech, what with his awesome GPA and all. He really was smart and it was fun to hear him gush about science and chemistry.

Two women sat down next to me on the bunch and I gave them a friendly nod and they smiled in returning, then continued with a conversation they had obviously already been having before sitting down:

'I'm just saying, you should try being a foster mom.' woman number 1 proclaimed to her friend, whom just sighed in return:

'I don't know, you think I could do it?'

I scrunched up my eyebrows: what was a foster mom. And me, being me, I asked: 'What's a foster mom?' I asked woman number 2, who seemed to be the more approachable one.

She seemed taken aback from the question, then hesitantly answered: 'Well, it's when you don't have any parents or other family members over the age of 20 who can take you in. Then you go into foster care and get assigned to a house, where you get foster parents. They're sort of like, replacement parents so to speak. Your new family.'

Family.The word buzzed through my mind, realising I hadn't answered yet I nodded slightly: 'Ah okay thanks.' then an idea struck me, 'Hey, why does a family member have to be over 20. I live with my 16-year-old brother, and we are doing just fine.' I blurted out, not even thinking about it.

Both heads snapped towards me: 'What?!' they asked in unison. My cheeks flushed red: I messed up. I let out a snorty laugh:

'Uhm... y'know, I'm just kidding.' I said awkwardly, hoping my fib would stick.

The woman seemed to relax slightly, then number 2 turned to me: 'I'm Margaret by the way.' she said, sticking out her hand. I shook it:

'Hamilton Smith.' I answered with a smile. She returned it, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes were filled with a weird emotion: was it suspicion? Or was it concern?

I shrugged it off as my bus came into view: 'This is my bus.' I said, forcing cheerfulness into my voice, 'See ya around m'amm's!' I called, running towards the bus, then at the last second turned: 'Oh and hey, your friend is right miss Margaret, you would make a great foster mum!'

Margaret smiled back at me, all of her teeth showing and shouted a "Thank You" back, making a warm feeling course through my body: I think I like her, I told myself, hoping I would see more of her in the days to come.

(Peter POV)

I trudged into school half an hour after Ham had left the apartment, my head hanging low as I tried to hide the tired look in my eyes: life was tough, having to take care of Ham and myself as well as doing homework.

Homework.

Was there something I was forgetting?

Realisation hit me: my biology homework! I hadn't done it, I totally forgot. And my first period was biology, which meant I couldn't secretly do it in another class either.

I mentally face-palmed as I made a bee-line towards my biology class, deciding to sit down early and try to do the homework without anyone noticing me. I could've done it in the hallway of course, but the chances of running into Eugene Thompson were too high here.

I unceremoniosly opened the door to the biology class, then shut it silently behind me.

'Well, someone is early.' My biology teacher's cheerful voice said from behind me. My shoulders sagged: so much for faking having done my homework.

I turned around slowly: 'Oh yeah... uh... hi.' I stuttered, trying to hide the homework behind my back, my biology teacher however - who's name was mister Banner by the way, but insisted I call him Bruce, which I did not do - noticed and grabbed it, looking it over quickly.

He chuckled slightly: 'Was someone planning to cram their homework into the 10 minutes before class?' he asked playfully, giving me a comforting smile.

I hung my head, then did the thing that I always did at school: I rambled. I hated doing it, but I had woven around me the persona of some weird nerdy nervous kid, and sadly, in that, rambling belonged, I was pretty good at it by now. I had found, that if you just said exaclty what your intrusive thoughts were telling you at the moment, you could ramble forever, so that's what I did. I shut my brain off and rambled an excuse, not even listening to what I was saying myself, just letting my mind speak:

'I'm sorry mister Banner! I was going to do it honest! I love your class so much, biology is fun. Do you think biology is fun? Of course you do, you teach it! I was going to do it, but stuff got in the way. Yesterday evening I had to clean the apartment and this morning I had to bake breakfast for Ham and he eat a lot you see so I had to make a lot and I burned the pancakes. I don't know how to make pancakes, I never had a mum who taught me or a dad so I burned them but he ate them anyway and then I forgot to eat and I'm hungry. And then I didn't remember to do my homework becasue I had to quickly pay the bills and I had to run to catch the bus and I was going to the homework here in class honest before you would notice and I'm sorry...'

I was about to ramble some more, not even aware what I had been saying: it was nice to speak your mind, but also something that was not so, if you get what I mean. But then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I tensed under it, then noticed it was doctor Banner's hand, and I relaxed slightly:

'Pete,' he said soflty and I looked up. His eyes,... were weird. They were a mixture of sadness, love and,... was that concern. Oh no, what had I said?!

'I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to ramble like that. Just give me an F or something.' I said soflty, averting my eyes.

'It's Bruce kid, and no, I'm not going to give you an F, you can finish your homework during this class, I know you don't really need to pay attention. After all: you know all of this stuff already.' he added with a chuckle. I smiled soflty, looking up at him and meeting his eyes: why were they so full of love. Why would anyone love me except for Ham? I got why Ham did: I had taken him with me when I escaped, but anyone else? Why? I was a monster, and yet he looked at me like I was worth caring about. Like I wasn't some kind of plague to avoid at all costs.

He saw my searching look and he softened his expression even more, if that was even possible, then he turned deadly serious: 'Pete, I need you to answer me truthfully okay?' I nodded, 'Are you taking care of your little brother ... all on your own?' I nodded again: no use denying it, I had already admitted that in the forced ramble - I hated this self-made personna so much! And yet, it was better than normal me: emotionless me, robot monster me.

Mister Banner sighed and massaged his temples as he lent against his desk, then turned to me: 'How long have you been taking care of him kid?' he asked soflty.

I looked him in the eyes: trying to figure out what I had said when I hacked into the government databases, how many years had I said again? I went for the safest option: I shrugged.

Mister Banenr sighed again: 'So you're saying: Your family is dead and you guys are not in foster care or anything?!' I shrugged again: I didn't get what the big deal was. I could protect Ham, I could protect myself so we were fine right?

'Peter,' Mister Banner sighed, 'You know that's not normal right?'

Not Normal... Not Normal... Not Normal...The words floated through my head, I could hear my heart speeding up, but couldn't get it to chill out.He knows!my mind screamed at meHe knows what you are, you need to get rid of him!I shook my head, grabbing it: no that was Hydra talking,I don't kill. I don't kill. I don't kill anymore. I am a good person. I am a good person. I am a good person. But I'm a murderer. I'm not good, I'm bad, I deserve to be locked up forever.

Faintly I heard someone call my name, but I didn't understand what they were saying. Slowly I slid to the ground, the cool feeling grounding me a little, until my mind started screaming again:

Murderer! You deserve to die! You're not worthy to live! You're useless! Bad! You don't deserve Love!