T.W : panic attack, dark thoughts, dysphoria 

*

Peter jumps when he hears the bell announcing the end of his last class. He feels disoriented for a second, before realizing what it means. Quickly, he throws all of his stuff in his bag under the amused glares of his friends, before running through the door and yelling "I'll text you later guys !"

To say he is excited would be a lie. It didn't take long for him to come back from his concentrated self, and now it's almost like pure joy is flooding inside his veins. He earns some insults as he runs through the corridor, bumping into people, but he doesn't care. He knows May is right outside the school, waiting for him, and he wants to reach her as fast as he can. He has another hour and a half before his appointment, but he doesn't want to be late, and he is well aware that he will need time to actually calm himself once he will arrive.

"Pete, slow down love !" his aunt's voice stops him in his race as she catches him in her arms in order to stop him from falling. He really has to contain himself.

"Hey May !" Peter's tone is filled with excitement and makes her roll his eyes as a smile appears on her face, mirroring the one of her nephew, "Can we go right now ? I don't want to be late !"

"Yeah, of course we can" she answers, and the boy erupts in joy once more. He can't control it, he's just so overwhelmed by what is happening that he can't contain.

It's weird how this morning he wasn't in such a good mood, how the day and the week before he wanted to end it all ; and now he seems like the happiest teen ever. He never quite understood why he would always go from an extreme to another in so little time, but he just goes along with it. He is used to it now, and this time it feels good. Peter loves the way his chest is so light and warm, the way his cheeks are hurting from smiling so much, he loves seeing everything in a brighter way. Of course, he is aware deep down that it probably won't last long, that his tiredness will come back soon enough to annoy him - but he doesn't care. It's just motivating him to enjoy this more. It feels so good to feel good.

"You know" May interrupts him, "if you want to actually get going, you need to move."

The teen's head jolts up to glare at her as he nods fiercely. He knows, but he was just so lost in his happiness that he forgot the life around him.

"Let's go !" he answers, half yelling, pulling her by the wrist to the closest bus stop.

This is also a reason why he wanted to go so early. They don't actually own a car, so they have to take many buses to arrive at the clinic - which can take a lot of time, and lead them to be really late.

From the corner of his eyes, Peter can see his aunt shaking her head as she follows him. He wants to apologize to her during a second for being this excited, but something in his guts tells him that she doesn't mind. After all, she's probably as excited as him, and she must be so happy to see him act this way for once. It's been a while since he acted like a child during Christmas, and he is aware that she suffers from his lack of liveliness these days. But he can't do much about it, apart from letting her see how much of an impact today has on him.

Their travel to the clinic isn't long, but it feels like eternity to the boy. At the very beginning of it, he slipped a headphone in his left ear and handed the second one to his aunt. He definitely couldn't stay ecstatic in the bus, and he aslo had to prepare himself mentally for the meeting - but he didn't want to let May alone, so sharing his music seemed like a good option. They listened to most of his 'when you just want to jump around of joy' playlist, and he had to give his all not to sing the lyrics from the top of his lungs. Actually, even Aunt May had a hard time to stay impassible, and Peter often found her whispering the words or shaking her head and shoulders along the beat. He liked those kind of travel, he really liked it. But now, they are in front of the right building and all of is fears are running back to him and surrounding his mind.

"Pete, come on," he tries to focus on May's voice as soon as he hears her but he can't.

His body is paralyzed, and a part of him wants to go back to their apartment and face any doctor at all. What if they told him he couldn't start T? What if they couldn't afford it after all? What if he learned that his body wasn't compatible with an extra dose of T? What if the appointments were messed and they actually didn't have one for him? He doesn't want the appointment to go wrong and to see his hopes crash down once again. To be honest, he isn't sure he could survive it. It's been so long since he learnt about T, since he wanted to be able to take it, and having to wait another two years after being so close to it was a living hell. How could he survive another year if today the doctor tells him he wasn't allowed to start the treatment? He can't. He's been fighting for so long with the feeling of never progressing at all. Learning any bad news today would kill him on the spot. He won't be able to go on if he-

"Peter!" his eyes widen as soon as he hears the tone of his aunt. He can feel her warmth in his palm, and he only realizes now that she was holding his hand.

As soon as he sees her eyes, guilt punches him in the stomach. The boy must have scared her to death right now and he wasn't even aware of it. He is now. He feels the burns in his lungs, the speed with which he is trying to breathe, the pain in his head, the weakness in his legs. He feels it all and he hates it. He was so good just a few minutes ago, and he had to go and let his fears ruin everything once again. He really hates being this mentally weak.

"Hey Pete," May's voice is softer now, and it brings back the teen to reality in a matter of seconds. He must stop letting his thoughts take over him. "It's going to be okay kiddo, we just have to go and wait now, right? It's almost time."

The boy only nods, trying not to let her see his eyes watering when he hears her using the nickname uncle Ben always used for him. She never used it before, and it feels weird to hear it coming from someone else's mouth. Of course, he knows that Mr. Stark already called it that sometimes before, but it wasn't the same. He had no way to know how much this name was important to him, only May can. and the fact that she uses it now, when he is hours or minutes away to maybe go on T makes him want to cry. It's as if Ben was with them, with him, looking at him achieving another step in his transition to be who he really is.

"Come on," Aunt May smiles and pulls him inside before leading him to the right waiting room.

Peter walks and acts mechanically. He sits next to the woman, and stares blankly at the white wall in front of him, before searching for his headphones once again. He doesn't know how much they have to wait until it's their turn, but he has to come back to Earth. He can't stay in this state of mind for the appointment, and music seems to be the only thing that can help him - plus it will help him to forget all of the other noises that are starting to get louder and louder and to give him a headache. Maybe he could sleep a little too, he could definitely use a little nap, and May would surely wake him up in time. But will he be able to fall asleep?

Shaking his head, he smiles a little at his aunt before sliding in the earphones and putting on a playlist of Hang Massive to relax. Closing his eyes slowly, he leans in the chair and try to find the most comfortable position possible, before sighing. The boy focuses on his breathing, counting the seconds he inspires and the seconds he expires. Breathing exercises work most of the time on him, and if they don't calm him enough, they at least help him to think about something that isn't his worries.

Peter loves music; he always did. Even now, when his senses don't really allow him to blast rock at the maximum volume, he still adores it. The bass makes him smile and he enjoys feeling his heart beat to the rhythm of the drums more than anything. Music is what shut down most of his dark thoughts when he lost Uncle Ben, it's what gives him back his control over himself when he isn't okay, it's a source of pure joy for Aunt May and him. How many Sundays did he wake up to May blasting some old music and dancing in the living room, asking him to join her? How many times did she put any songs she knows by heart just to sing it because she had a bad day at work or because her nephew had a bad day at school? The possibilities with music are infinite for Peter, and he cherishes that. If he didn't hold it so close to his heart, he wouldn't be slightly smiling right now, enjoying the softness of the song resonating in his ears.

In rare moments like those, the teen forgets about his powers. He doesn't feel that special anymore, doesn't remember having super strength or healing abilities, nor super senses. He is just an average teenage boy, like everyone else; and it feels good. Especially now; of course, music is distracting him, and his appointment is making him happy, but he can't forget how tired he is. If he started paying close attention to it, the soreness of the entirety of his muscles would appear to him, his eyelids would be too heavy to keep them open. It really is for the best if he doesn't think about it.

"Mister Parker?"

He hears his name, but it seems so far away that he doesn't move - that is, until aunt May shakes his arm a bit to get his attention. That's when he realizes. If his name is called out, it's obviously because it's his turn to meet the doctor now. Eyes wide opened and his hands trembling a bit, he gets up and follows his aunt at the same time as he tries to stop his phone. The stress is overwhelming him. As if, as soon as his neurons clicked, it just agreed to kill him softly - to the point that he doesn't realize he is shaking the doctor's hand, nor that he is seating in their office next to a smiling May.

Peter knows he should give the doctor his undivided attention, he knows it – but he can't. There isn't any specific reason behind his inability to do so, just a strong stress eating him from inside. That isn't the worst though. Peter knows he should listen, but before he can even process the fact that he has to force himself to be focused, the clock on the wall in front of him moved to twenty minutes later. And he doesn't remember any of those twenty minute. Nothing. As if he jumped through time, as if his brain deleted the files concerning those twenty minutes. He still doesn't hear a thing either though. He is conscious of what is happening, but he is entirely deaf to the sounds. That is, until he feels May tugging strongly on his hand.

"Pete, honey?" the sounds are still a little be muffled, but he can hear the worry in her voice.

It takes him a few seconds before he is able to bring his eyes to her face. He's so out of it right now, and he hates it deeply. His body feels like it's in slow motion and his mind is hardly processing anything.

Another tug brings him back to his aunt's face, allowing him to see her lips moving once again. "Peter? You're with me?"

He is barely aware of the second presence by his side, the person not being in his field of view. He wants to speak, he wants to answer to May, but his throat feels so sore and won't stop tightening each time he tries to swallow. He doesn't know what's happening to him, but strangely he remains somehow calm. He isn't panicking, or panting, gasping for air, his senses aren't that much overload. Nothing like that. He's just... out of it.

"Mister Parker, can you hear us?" he feels a hand pressing lightly his shoulder, and he forces himself to turn his head in the direction. He knows the person in front of him must be his doctor – probably the same doctor his saw two years ago – but he doesn't recognize her face, even when he saw her when he entered the room.

Peter furrows his brows, trying to process the shutdown his brain is doing. He checks briefly even part of his body, but nothing is weird; he isn't shaking, and he can feel each one of his legs and arms.

He can see someone handing him a glass of water, and for a second, he considers throwing it directly on his face in order to wake himself up, but he is quick to abandon the idea. Slowly, he takes the glass and drink it, doing his best not to choke himself on the liquid.

"Is it better now?" the doctor's voice is nice, warm, and the boy is surprised he didn't notice it before. He always loved warm voices, like Ben's or Wade's.

Hesitant, he nods and smiles a little. Next to him, he can hear his aunt letting out a deep sigh and his chest tightens a bit – he is always worrying her.

"Sorry" he mutters, barely loud enough to be audible.

"It's okay Pete," May squeezes his hand into hers as she speaks, "we just wanted you to come back to us, okay? You had us a little worried, but it's alright. You're alright."

The smile on her face warms Peter's chest and his lips curl back. He moves a bit on his chair, putting the empty glass on the desk and watching as the doctor makes her way back to her own sit. The boy is still incredibly stressed, but his body is heating up because of the embarrassment – maybe that's the reason everything to be back to normal now. He nibbles at his bottom lips, feeling his cheeks getting warmer and warmer as a blush extends on his face. He stays quiet, focusing on the woman in front of him, glaring at each of her movements.

"Seeing the state you were in, I guess you didn't hear anything of what we said before with your aunt, right ?" the question makes Peter's heart pounds harder into his chest and he nods slightly, ashamed. "It's okay, I understand. I know that you must be really stressed because of this meeting and we all react in our own ways."

"Thanks," he doesn't know what else to say. He finds himself being taken back by her words, not excepting this kind of reaction.

The woman shots him a fond smile before continuing, "I'm doctor Ruth, and yes that is my last name and not my first name. And you're mister Peter Parker. Now, Peter – I can call you Peter, right?"

The boy's eyes widen as he nods his head quickly. It feels like forever since he last saw a doctor, but he is quite sure that he never met one like her – or maybe he just remembered after everything that happened the night he lost Ben?

"Okay Peter," Doctor Ruth continues giving a quick look at her notes, "you didn't actually miss anything important. We were just going through your medical history with your aunt and talking about the possibilities you have to take the treatment. I'm pretty sure you know it already, but you can either get testosterone through gel or through injection, and for those injections you can do them alone (except the first one, because we actually have to show you how to get it done) or you can ask for a nurse's help – but this would mean that you'd have to go to a nurse office each time you would need to take your shot. Do you have a preference or any questions regarding that?"

The teen finds himself unable to react. Why is she explaining him the different options the treatment offers? Isn't she supposed to decide first if he can start T?

"I- "he tries to form a sentence with his thoughts but falls back into silence for a second. He's lost. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you're asking me?"

The doctor looks surprised by his unsure tone. "I wanted to know if you'd prefer to have T shots or a gel to get your testosterone. I would usually advice people to chose shots as it's easier to regulate the dosage, but we can make it work with injections."

Peter's brows furrow even more as he tries to process the information. "But why would you make me choose if we're not sure yet that I can go on T?"

From the moment the words leave his mouth, the boy knows he must sound silly and childish. He isn't surprised when Doctor Ruth starts to laugh softly – though her eyes widen when she heard him.

"Well, Peter," she starts, letting her chin rest on one of her hand, "the whole point of this meeting is to allow you to go on T. And by that, I mean giving you the proper dosage and checking one last time with you if you're sure about your decision."

She smiles. It's the first thing that he understands. Only then, he slowly gets what she means, and as he does, he turns his head toward May, his eyes wide open and watering, his mouth slightly open.

Suddenly, it feels like something explodes in his chest, and he feels the tears rolling down his cheeks. The stress is gone, and his body isn't tensed anymore – he feels like floating.

"I'm allowed to start T?" he breathes out, wiping his tears off. "For real?"

He can feel his aunt's warmth around him before he can see her hugging him. She holds onto him firmly, squeezing him and murmuring into his ear. "Yes, you are kiddo."

And Peter cries harder. And harder. And harder. He's sobbing into his doctor's office, but he couldn't care less – and he is pretty sure both women couldn't either.

He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna start T. He's gonna-

"Peter?" the warmth tone of Doctor Ruth brings him back to reality, and he detaches himself from aunt May slowly, glaring at her as he wipes his tears off. "I know it's probably overwhelming, but do you have an answer to the question I asked you?"

It takes him a few to remember that, yes, indeed, she asked him something before he started crying into May's shirt.

"Shots," he says in a hoarse voice, "I'd prefer shots."

It always has been sure for him, even when he learnt about the gel's existence.

"Really?"

He shots a smile towards his aunt when he hears her surprise. "Yeah," he explains, "because if it's in gel I'd most likely forget it one day, or I won't be able to always put the same amount each day on my skin, and all. So, shots sound just right, even if that means injecting myself with it each time for the rest of my life."

She stays silent, a smile growing on her face, before nodding. "Okay."

"Okay Peter," the boy turns his attention back to the other woman as she starts shifting papers of place on her desk. "Injections it is then. Now, regarding the results of your last blood analysis, you'd have to take one shot each week. I'm not going to go too much in detail because you will have everything wrote down on paper just after so that you can get your treatment. Eventually, we'll have to check in around three months how it is going for you and if the dosage is correct. However, if you find yourself having any problem beforehand, you can call me secretary and we'll schedule a meeting okay?"

Peter nods at her words, not quite sure to understood everything she said – but it's not important. He's going on T, and everything will be better from now on.

"Wonderful" the woman continues as she quickly taps something on her computer and print it before handing the paper back to May. "Here, you'll be able to get the shots for the three next months, and you also have the exact dosage of the injections. Now, all you have to do is to go to the entrance and show this paper to my colleague, she'll explain to you where you have to go for the appointment you took with the nurse office, and will take your payment."

Aunt May nods before thanking and Peter is quick to do the same. He's still quite in the dark regarding what is happening, only mirroring May's movements, but he doesn't care. He's happy.

He's happy when he gets up and shakes the doctor's hand once again; he's happy when the secretary explain to them where he has to go to get his first shot; he's happy when a nurse from the clinic explains them step by step how to inject the liquid; he's happy when he feels the needle piercing through his skin; and he's happy once they get back on the bus, the bandage aid on his thigh hidden by his jeans.

I know this part is way longer than the others (almost 4 000 words), but I couldn't possibly cut it in half, so I apologize. However, I also want to precise that I tried my best to do reasearches and all about T appointment but the result porbably isn't anywhere near the reality. Once again, I'm sorry (I wanted to give the exact dose of T for example, and ended up on a website talking about packers and sextoys for transmen so... finding the infos was hard).

Any ways, I hope you still enjoyed this part! The next one should come out soon (It's already written, I just have to correct it), and things should start from now.

Stay safe and hydrate,

H.