(A few days later...)
Peter's POV:

Things were going okay at the tower. It was quite surprising to me. I had Tony help me with telling the hundreds of interviewers that I need time before I can take all of this on.

Because it IS a lot. And as much as I hate to admit it, I am still a kid. In no way am I prepared to take all of this on at the moment. Especially with how my depression has been lately.

I've been sleeping most of the day away, and haven't really been eating much. MJ says she's worried about me. I told her that I'm okay, just tired from patrol most of the time.
I think she's buying into it.

After laying in thought for a while, I snap out of it when I suddenly feel nauseous. I sit up, tried to relax, but the nausea grew more intense by the second. I stood up shakily, and stumbled to my bathroom. I opened the toilet and prepared for the worst.

I gagged and gagged for about twenty seconds straight. Nothing came out. It was the worst feeling. After calming myself down, and sitting by the toilet for a while, I felt well enough to stand. I pushed myself up, and passed the mirror.
I was pale, with bags under my eyes and my features were sunken in. I looked dead.

I noticed I was drenched in sweat, so I took off my shirt and was just left in my PJ bottoms.
My curly mop was an absolute mess, so I tried brushing it for the first time in days. Combing my fingers through it, I felt several strands tangle through my hands and come out with ease. I quickly threw the clumps of hair away, my heart beating out of my chest.

What's happening to me?

I drag myself to the kitchen and see Tony in the nearby living room watching TV.

"Sounds like somebody finally got out of-"
Tony turned to look at me.

"Peter? Are you okay?"
I walked to the couch and sat next to him.

"I-I don't know. I woke up feeling nauseous, and started gagging. It feels like I'm going t-to pass out."
I somehow manage to get my message across.

Tony walks me to medical area and sat me down on a comfy chair.

"Give me a finger."
He says.
I gave him my right pointer finger and he gives it a small prick. I didn't even flinch. He uses this weird device that took some of the blood off, then he wrapped up my finger in an Iron Man band-aid.

He looked at the device until it beeped.

"Kid, when was the last time you ate?"
He looked at me with concern.

"Uh....I-I think it was, um... friday? I had a slice of leftover pizza."

"Jesus kid, no wonder your blood sugar is low! You haven't eaten in days!"
I give him a shocked look.

"What? Wait, what day is it?"
I ask.

"Wednesday. 3:15PM. You need to eat."
Tony walks me back to the kitchen and sits me down at the island. The next thing I know, I have a sandwhich on my plate with some applesauce and apple juice.
I sigh, knowing that I'm not hungry, but also knowing he won't let me go without eating.

"I suggest starting with the apple juice. It'll raise your blood sugar and get rid of the nausea. And if the sandwich is too much I can give you crackers and a banana instead. But you have to eat as much as you can. What's been going on with you lately?"
Tony has never looked so worried for me. At least not in a long time.
I sigh, drinking the apple juice.

"I don't know. I'm just feeling really sad. Depressed is probably a better word for it. I just don't have any energy or motivation. It's hard to explain..."
I began with the applesauce, then took small bites of the sandwich.

"Well, first off, eating and drinking enough will help with the energy. And less naps would probably do you some good. Maybe try a new hobby, or..."
Tony's words faded into the background. I stared off into space, thinking about all the ways I could feel better sooner. Anti-depressants wouldn't work the same on me as they would on regular people. My body is just too different chemically.
My eyes make their way to the knife drawer.
That reminds me...

"Hey, kid? Kid!!"
Tony snaps me out of my trance.

"S-sorry. I'm just tired..."
Tony sadly looks at my barely-ate sandwich, but looks satisfied with the rest.

"Okay. I'll let you rest more today. But I'll be bringing you meals throughout the day so that you don't forget to eat. Also, I love you kiddo, but you need a shower."
He chuckles. I crack a smile.

"Thanks dad."
I get up and walk back to my room, locking the door. I take off my clothes and set out clean ones for the first time in days.
I then thought back to the knife drawer, then thought about the one thing that could make me feel something.
My eyes glance to the bathroom floor, and I pull the rug up to grab my bag of hidden treasures. I hop in the shower, feeling refreshed from the warm water hugging my skin. I wasn't sure how long I was in there, but it must've been for quite a while, because the water slowly started to run cold.

Whoops.

I step out, drying myself off, feeling better already. Yet, I still look over to the bag of razors I have yet to re-use in a while. I know I shouldn't. But I can't resist.
I get dressed, and get the gauze out. I make the familiar marks on my arms, watching the crimson color drop into the white sink. I snap out of my daze when I hear Tony knock.

"Peter? I've got a snack for you and some water. I'll set it outside your door, please eat it and drink all of the water, it'll help. I promise."
I hear his footsteps fade away and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I patched up my arms, cleaned the sink, and took care of the evidence. Putting on a hoodie, I opened my room door to find a plate of churros with a glass of water. I pick it up, shut my door, and set it on my nighstand. I took a few bites, as well as some sips of water, then felt full.
I guess I'm not used to this much food.

I sigh and check my phone.
I've got several messages from MJ. She's not too happy with me ignoring her.
Just as I read the last message, I get a call from her. Panicking, I pick up.

"Hello?"

"Peter Parker, where on earth have you been?!"
She yells.

"Look, it has been a long week MJ, I just haven't been able to get back to you, I'm sorry."

"Peter, I don't mean any disrespect, but you're fucking Spiderman. You live with THE Tony Stark, you know, only one of the richest and smartest guys on the planet!"

"Okay MJ, I get it-"
She cuts me off.

"No Peter! I don't think you do! You don't just get to cut off your friends and girlfriend because Mr. Spiderboy is too busy living his best life! How is that fair to Ned and I?!!"
She sounded angry. Very angry. But it hurt to hear that this is what she thinks of me.

"What? That's not it at all. MJ, listen-"

"Don't you tell me to fucking listen Peter! You're the one who ignored my texts and calls for a week, who has been blowing me off and cancelling plans 24/7!"
I waited until she was done with her rant, and then I heard her sigh.

"Pete. I'm sorry. I can't do this."
My heart had cracked.

"W-wait MJ what do you mean? Like, like-"

"Yes Peter. I'm breaking up with you. This is what happens when the other person doesn't feel like they're getting the love they signed up for, if they're getting any love at all."
My heart broke.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye, Peter."
My heart shattered.

I heard the beeping on the other end, confirming what just happened.

I fucked it all up. I fucked everything up with MJ. Now she thinks I'm some snobby, selfish asshole.

Ned probably thinks the same.

Hot tears run down my face as my brain searches for solutions.

That's when I packed a bag, put on my suit and leaped out of my window, swinging from one building to another.

I know what I've gotta do.

I know what I need to do.

----

Thank you to everyone in the comments section who helped me think of ideas for this next chapter!
Again, so sorry that updates have been slow, I'm in treatment at the moment, but I'm trying my best to stay with this story!
Enjoy!