Tony's POV

I'm a terrible uncle.

I mean, what sort of person doesn't recognize their own niece, especially when said niece has been living under their roof for weeks?

And not only that, who doesn't realize how badly someone's struggling when there's so much it should be obvious?

Heck, I haven't even visited her family for over a decade, despite them literally being my only relatives.

Sure, I've sent them money a lot but...what kind of person pretty much forgets about their sibling and her family?

~~change in POV even though Tony's was super short~~

Nikki's POV

The darkness of my room offered some comfort. After I had retreated from the roof I had immediately locked myself in here, fighting the urge to cut. They knew. It caused so much anxiety, but for the first time, I resisted.

But it wasn't enough. It was enough to not do it until I passed out, but I still did it.

Run.

Just leave

You'll never be left alone anymore

They'll ask too many questions.

"Shut up." I tried distracting myself by blasting music into my ears, but that could only do so much.

Just wait until Peter finds out.

He'll never stop worrying.

Just wait until Stark calls your parents.

He'll hate you even more once he finds out.

A buzz came from my phone.

Petey Boy
I'm boredddd
Do you wanna come and play Mario Kart
Pls
I'm going to die if I don't do something

Me
You do know you can play Mario Kart single player, right?

Petey Boy
Well yeah but it's more fun to play with someone else
Please Nikkiiiii

Me
Fine.
I'll be there in five minutes
You better be ready to get your butt kicked

I stood up, throwing on a sweater and putting my phone in its pocket before heading to Peter and I's designated Mario Kart room.

"Oh, Nikki, if you don't mind, could I ask you a few more questions?" Dr. Banner's voice came from the kitchen as I saw his head peek around the corner into the room I was currently walking through.

"Actually, I was just about to go do something with Peter. Maybe later." Glad for an excuse to not delve into my issues, I took about another two steps before a younger, higher voice joined the mix.

"Um...actually I just asked you to come so that you would leave your room...sorry, but he made me."

Of course he did.

Seeing no other way to get out of this, I sighed and rubbed my hands down my face.

"Fine. But just you and I. Stark doesn't get to be in there."

I heard a small cry of protest come from further in the kitchen, confirming my suspicions that he had been planning to crash and listen in to me sharing some of my...interesting past.

"Which also includes the fact that he doesn't get to use Friday to eavesdrop."

"That's fine, kid. Any other requests?" Okay, Dr. Banner is actually apparently really nice and considerate. I wasn't used to adults like that.

"No."

We didn't exchange any other words; I just followed him back to the medbay, with Peter shooting me a thumbs up as I glanced back at him.

"Dr. Banner-"

"Call me Bruce. Please. And you can take a seat." He gestured to a few chairs. I took the one in the corner, so that I could lean my head against the conjoining walls.

"Bruce," ew, it feels so weird to call an adult by their first name. "I don't want to be pitied. Okay? That's one of the things I hate the most. Whatever you ask, I'll answer honestly, I swear. Just...please don't pity me."

He nodded. "Alright. I just want to start by following up on how you're feeling from earlier; falling off your apartment building and all."

I took a slightly shaky breath. Great; diving right into the difficult answers. "Speaking of that, I...want to confess something."

When I paused, he reassured me, "That's okay kid, take your time."

"I didn't fall."

Surprisingly, he didn't look very phased by this fact. "I didn't think so. When Spiderman brought you in and told us what happened...it was pretty obvious."

"Oh, and I know that Peter's Spiderman, just for the record. You don't have to hide it. But...yeah. I jumped."

"Can I ask why?"

"Because I was tired of all the lies building up on top of each other that I was telling all of you guys. So, that's why I'm going to be completely honest. I'm going to tell you everything, as well as I can remember it."

"Alright, kid. I'll be taking notes on what you tell me, but...no one needs to know anything except for what you want them to. This is just for your file, which I'll be upgrading so that Tony can't access it if you want me to."

"Thanks. I'll...think about what I want to do with my file later."

"Okay. First thing, I'm just going to ask about your sprains. There's several on record, and I'm assuming even more off. Is that a recurring problem?"

"Yeah. I have weak joints so they're getting badly twisted and sprained pretty often."

"This also shows that you're diagnosed with autism, anxiety, and depression, is that right?"

I nodded.

"And you're on medication for the second two?"

Another nod.

Over the next hour, Dr. Ban- I mean, Bruce, asked me a lot more questions, and I expounded on a lot of things, having to take a lot of breaks to re-balance my emotions. I also told him about a lot of the things not on file...like patulous eustachian tubes, plantar fasciitis, how I have trust issues, super thin skin, the intrusive thoughts, and even how I self harm and have a mild eating disorder that stemmed from my allergies. And then he asked the question I had sincerely hoped would be avoided.

"Just one last thing...what led you to move from Arizona to New York and live by yourself?"

I debated lying, but actually surprisingly found myself wanting to get it off my chest and finally tell someone. "Um. Well...you see...I kind of...ran away after I came out to my parents."

A look of alarm came over him. "You ran away from home? Did they start hurting you or something after you told them you were gay?"

I managed a slight laugh, which lightened the mood a little. "Not exactly. They didn't hurt me. And...I'm not gay."

He looked confused now. Ah, I'd forgotten how fun it was to mess with clueless heteros who thought the only options were to be straight or gay.

"I'm aroace. Aromantic asexual. In simplest terms, it means that I don't feel any attraction to people other than platonic."

"Oh...but your coming out was harmful enough to you that you decided to run away?"

"Yeah. They pretended to be accepted at first but then started acting like I had never told them, constantly bugging me about 'when you get married' and 'when you have kids', even pretty much telling me that I was lying to myself and was broken.

"And...I know that there's a lot of that that happens to almost everyone who's not straight or cis but...it bugged me so much, especially when they would go out of their way to make homophobic comments when I was around. So...yeah. One day I just kind of snapped and...left home, flying to New York."

I finished my explanation, and looked up to see Bruce staring at me sympathetically.

"Kid, I'm so sorry that your coming out didn't go well. But I'm glad that you were able to come here and we were able to meet you. I hope you know that every person in this tower is here for and supportive of you, no matter what."

"Thanks..." I didn't know what else to say, but that didn't matter because as soon as I muttered my appreciation, my stomach growled. Loudly.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Dunno. Yesterday, maybe?"

Bruce sighed. "Let's go down; you need to eat something. I know you won't want to eat a lot, but you do need to get something in your system. I'll work on a food plan for you so that you can start to get healthier as well."

Awkwardly, I stood up and followed him down to the kitchen, where he opened the fridge and showed me some vegetables. I took a head of lettuce, washed the leaves, then grabbed two and put the rest in a Ziploc bag.

I crunched on the lettuce, then drank a glass of water. Bruce now knew about my allergies to dairy, wheat, soy, almonds, (somehow) fats, and my lactose intolerance, so thankfully he wouldn't force me to eat all the things that would make my stomach feel like it was slowly being ripped apart by a dull dagger from the inside.

Maybe this opening up to people thing isn't so bad after all.

Word Count: 1415