I wake up shaking and crying. Why does this keep happening to me? I get put of bed and grab my suit as fast as I can and swing out the window.

I swing up to the tallest building I can see and sit on the roof. I take my mask off and feel the wind blow through my hair, feel the cold air brush my face, feel it sting at my tear filled eyes.

I close my eyes and just breathe. After a while, I put my mask back on and swing around town. 20 minutes later I swing back into the boys home.

I still feel numb, but at the same time, I'm feeling too much at once. What's happening to me? I go to my bag and take out my blades. We all know what I did.

I slowly take a blade out of my box, pull up my sleeve, and begin to cut. Each one deeper than the last. I don't stop until my entire forearm is covered.

I take two of the wrap bandages from my first aid kit and wrap both of my arms. I pull my sleeves back down and go to bed.

For a long time, I just lay there, waiting. I'm not sure what I was waiting for, but I eventually fell asleep.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

I'm in the lab trying to build the kid a new suit, a safer suit. I hear my phone ding, Peter texted me.

'would it be ok if I interned for a while today?'

'sure. Tell me where you are and I'll have happy pick you up.'

'I'm actually at the sandwich shop across the way'

'cool. Just come on over then. See you soon'

Next thing I know, Peter walks out of the elevator and walks up to me. His face lights up when he sees the suit.

He stares at the suit, starry eyed. "can I help? If that's ok?" Peter asks, excitedly.

"sure. After all, its your suit" I tell him. He looks at me, confused and shocked, I think. "it is?" He asks.

"of course it is."

We work on the suit for a few hours. At this point I'm overheating from the lights and mechanics. I look over and see Peter still wearing his jacket.

"you can take off your jacket if you want to." I tell him. He smiles and takes off his jacket. He has just a plain black long sleeve shirt on.

When we get most of the suit done, we go upstairs to the living room.

Clint, natasha, and bucky all sit on the couch watching a friends marathon. Peter and I sit on the floor in front of the couch.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Everyone is starting to get a little hungry. Clint gets up to cook something for them to eat, other than take out.

"do you mind if I help? I really love cooking, and I'm good at it, I think." I ask as he stands up.

"sure, why not?" He says, and we walk to the kitchen.

We stand by the stove and start to make spaghetti for everyone. We don't talk at all until clint quietly asks me something.

"does anyone else know?" He asks, sounding concerned, but not scared. "know about what?" I say, nervously.

"your arms." He says, makeing sure no one else hears him but me."um, I can explain. No one knows I just-" I start to panic a bit. He cuts me off.

"its ok. Be a little quieter." he rolls up his sleeve to reveal old scars all over his arms. The kind of scars that never fully heal. He keeps cooking like nothing happened.

"I didn't know. I'm sorry." I say quietly. "no need to be sorry Peter. But you need to stop. It only gets worse."

As he says this, he rolls his sleeves back down and we serve the pasta. Afterwards, I go back to boys home. Mr.stark and dr.strange get full custody of me in one week.