Tony's POV

Chat: The Grown-Ups Are Talking
People: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Stephen Strange, Bucky Barnes

Me:
Avengers, assemble!

Capsicle:

That is my line, Tony.

Me:
Pish posh

Scary Spider:

This better be important, I was in the middle of beating Clint up in training

Me:
Just be at meeting room A in five

Magic Go Whoosh:
Already there.

In seven minutes (Bucky insisted he needed to get coffee), the Avengers had assembled. I sat at the head of the table, with everyone else gathered around the sides.

"What is the purpose of this meeting exactly, Tony?" Stephen asked, raising an eyebrow at me expectantly. Even his cape looked menacing - unfortunately, the magician would freak out if he wasn't included, so he had to be there.

"You all know Nikki, correct?" I began simply, planning to lead up to my point.

There were mainly nods all around, but Thor looked mildly confused. "Nikki? Is there some new Avenger who has joined our ranks?"

Ah. Right. Thor had been off-world for the last couple months, only recently returning, so he wouldn't know her. "No, not an Avenger. To summarize, she's one of Peter's friends, he begged me to let her stay here, I agreed, she won't answer, and ever since he's been trying to convince her, joined by Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and I yesterday."

"And that information required a meeting...why?" Once again, Stephen was questioning my ability to make choices and be a leader once in a while.

"Because, I've decided that we're going to somehow find a way to make her live here. Peter's been in a funk because she won't give him a clear answer, and to put it simply, it's incredibly annoying to be around a teenager acting like that. Besides, it's not like we have anything else to work on."

"If it means less time being beaten into a pulp by Natasha, I'm in." Clint agreed almost instantaneously, understandably so. He had seen Nikki several times around the tower, and having kids himself, seeing her refuse to admit needing help must have activated some kind of parental protection protocol.

Nikki's POV

The last few days had been crap, but Peter didn't need to know that. Due to spending so much time with him, the tiny amount of money I usually made had shrunk even more, and money from my uncle was strictly set aside for rent. Even that money was starting to grow thin, and my birthday wasn't for another few weeks so I couldn't count on more to replenish my needs.

I hadn't eaten in two days. That wasn't a new concept; I often went a few days without eating, or if I did eat, it was usually only one, possibly two 'meals' a day. It was a choice I made; I'm simply not hungry or wanting to eat very often. The last time I ate, the food apparently had milk in it; I had been so desperate I forgot to check. Let's just say that evening wasn't a pleasant one. It didn't help that my mentality was suffering more than usual too.

I need to get a regular job...

I pushed away the thought that had been nagging me for at least the last week. If I got a job, it would almost be admitting defeat, and Peter would be able to tell that my sources were running thin, which would add to his argument that I should live at the tower.

My phone suddenly started vibrating and I checked the screen. Speak of the devil...

Sighing, I slid my finger across the screen to accept the incoming call.

"Yeah?"

"Woah, you actually answered." Peter's voice sounded surprised, which was understandable as I had been more or less avoiding him the last few days.

"Well yeah, I was bored and figured talking to you for a few minutes might not suck."

"In that case, you're coming over to the tower tonight. 6 pm. No arguments, I will literally drag you out of your apartment if you don't show."

I regretted answering the phone. After a few moments of my silence, Peter filled the empty space.

"Come on, you've been ignoring me for three days. You're coming over, no if's, and's, or but's. Just show up or you'll be forced to."

"Fine." Before he could add any more, I hung up the phone and put my face in my hands. It wasn't my fault that mental illness had hit me like a truck this last week, causing an extremely prolonged episode of depression, with a twist of constant panic attacks! So much fun.

Sitting on my couch, I hugged my single pillow as I stared out the window at the city, bright with lights and people rushing all about.

Apparently I sat in the same position for a lot longer than I intended to, because when I was rudely jerked back to reality by my phone buzzing, the time showed 6:04. Of course, Peter had sent a text, threatening to come and force me from my safe spot called home. Breathing deeply, I put my facade back up to pretend I was okay, then replied that I was just running late and would be there in fifteen minutes.

I pulled on some already-tied shoes, then stepped out my front door for the first time in a while. I'd made the choice to not wear my foot/ankle brace, giving my foot a weird, too-light feeling as I walked. Peter would probably disagree, but as far as he knew, it was just a minor, short-term injury that was healed now. True, it hadn't hurt as badly lately, but the real reason I didn't want to wear it was because it had been too long since my foot was free, and without it, I felt almost unstoppable. Well, as unstoppable as one can when their brain is having to fight itself to live.

The only braces and precautions I had on now were a brace on my knee and KT tape on my shoulder, both of which were easily hidden by my clothing. As far as everyone knew, I was all good now. Besides, they were pretty common injuries which probably wouldn't be questioned even if they were seen.

I arrived at the tower shortly, after walking down the familiar streets, lost in thought. I made sure that nothing would seem amiss before I stepped into the elevator, knowing that I would be berated with questions if my usual facade slipped for even half a second.

"Nikki!"

"Ah. Kid. You're finally back. I was starting to wonder if you hated Peter."

I lightly glared at Stark as he spoke, remembering that the last time I had been over, he had been one of the ones trying to keep me from leaving.

Instead of responding to him, I turned to Peter. "Remind me why I was forced here?"

"Well it's just...been a while and I figured it might be good for you to see some people...?"

"And since when are you my mother? Besides, it's only been three days. You can't even leave me alone for that long?" I raised an eyebrow, mildly interested in how he would respond.

Peter opened his mouth, but before he could let sound escape, Natasha stalked over to me, looking a mix of concerned and confused.

"Woah, kid. What happened to you the last couple days? You are feisty all of a sudden. Well, for you at least."

I just crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. "Or maybe I finally got annoyed enough to show y'all my real self."

Steve looked worried at that, but I refused to acknowledge the silent questions he was shooting myself and everyone in the room.

Peter approached cautiously, as if worried I would bite his head off if he made any sudden movements. It was a bit of a confusing act; I wasn't acting that much different than I usually did, was I?

"Nikki, um, you want to go play...Mario Kart or something?"

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

When we were both situated on the couch a floor above, sitting in awkward silence, Peter attempted to make conversation.

"Are you...alright? Like...is there something going on? Do you need help with anything?"

I rolled my eyes again. Hopefully the muscles wouldn't end up sore from overuse. "What, was this your purpose? Drag me out of my perfectly comfortable home to interrogate me?"

His eyes sparked in alarm at his mistake. "No! No, not at all! I'm just worried."

"Oh. Worried? About what, exactly? As you can see, I'm fine." I snapped back. Okay, maybe I was starting to get a little hangry; a perfect mix with depression and anxiety. How lovely.

"Just...you're not acting like yourself! You're snappy, you haven't communicated with me in days, and...wait, where's your foot brace?" He seemed to be gaining confidence, but then distracted himself. Thankfully.

"I don't need it anymore."

"Are you sure? You had it on for a pretty long time, do you want Bruce to check it and make sure everything really is okay?"

I turned to face him, trying to keep anger from lighting a fire to fuel my annoyance even higher. "Peter. I'm fine. Now either shut up so we can play or I'm just going to leave again."

He quieted, and we played a few rounds of the game. After a bit, obviously he couldn't contain himself anymore, because he asked, "Is it because of what happened last time you were here?"

Having relieved some of my emotions playing the game, it took me a minute to remember what he was talking about. "You mean four of your parents blocking me from leaving?"

To my surprise, he didn't acknowledge the parent comment, but responded once again with concern. "Yeah. Did that...piss you off more than we thought? I'm really sorry again about that if I had known they were gonna ambush you like that I would've suggested going to a different elevator I just-"

I shook my head while he was talking. "No, I've really just not been feeling like being around people the last couple days." My voice was softening slightly; I was attempting to make a special effort to show him that nothing was the matter.

"Oh. Well...sorry to drag you away from your solitude. Buuuut, I know you missed me, so I had to make an excuse for you to finally come back." His signature playful smile was back, causing his eyes to shine happily.

"Oh, yeah, totally." This nonchalant attitude was killing me to perform, but if it meant avoiding prolonged Peter-worry, it would be worth it.

We fell back into silence, playing several more rounds of Mario Kart until I checked my phone and found that I had been there for over two hours.

Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go." I wasn't sorry. I was relieved. Finally, I would be able to drop this fakeness.

Peter's face fell slightly. "Oh. Well...enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Yeah, thanks."

~~timeskip brought to you by Natasha's knife collection~~TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS

Weak.

Slice.

Waste of space.

Slice.

They hate you.

I know. Slice.

If they ever found out they'd probably kill you.

Good. Slice.

You don't deserve all the help and support he gives you.

I'm well aware. Slice.

You've ruined everything.

Slice.

I had promised myself. A while ago, yes; but promised myself nonetheless. I swore I would never do it again, but after feeling like I'd messed up with Peter and made the other Avengers hate me, the numbness felt too overwhelming.

It weighed too heavily on my chest; crushing my heart, squeezing my lungs, twisting my neck.

So I did the one thing I knew could help relieve it. I went home, locked myself in the bathroom, and made the fatal decision of glancing in the cabinet where my supplies were hidden.

A year ago, after I had just moved to New York, being fourteen and already on my own, dealing with the memories of what forced me to leave, I had found my way to cope. I had disassembled an extra razor shaving blade, taking out the three thin blades inside.

I had held one to my skin that first time, wondering if this was really necessary. 

And then I had cut.

Now here I was, resetting my count for being clean. I had almost reached four months. Now...now I was at about thirty seconds. 

I didn't return to the habit excessively, only making eight not terribly deep cuts on my shoulder. And yet, those few gave me a high I hadn't felt in a while. As much as I didn't want to admit it...I had really missed this feeling.

Word Count: 2039