Note:

I will be incorporating the other heroes into this story, not quickly or all at once, because this is a Spiderman fanfiction, but the Avengers (and others) will be in this book at some point in time.

*

The wind pressed against me, making my chest feel like it was being crushed. The sky was grey, and stormy, the clouds looked molten. My legs shook as I walked to the edge of the building, and I got up onto the side wall, and stood there, peacefully gazing across the city landscape. I closed my eyes, and I could feel the depression coiled inside me stir, and it bit my heart like a snake, its poison leaking into it. I was so depressed that sometimes, I felt completely numb, but now, my emotions opened its jaw, and they crashed out like a tsunami. Overwhelmed, I began to sob, my heart being pulverized in my chest, and I covered my face with my arm, the movement stinging the cuts, and ripping open scabs. For a minute, I hesitated, my mom, dads, and brothers face flashing behind my eyelids, but they vanished at the thought of how relieved I would be to finally be still, for eternity. 

I hadn't made any friends in the short two weeks we had been in New York, and Midtown high school didn't have time to care that there was a new kid, which would be fine if I had at least one friend. The wind grabbed at me with claws, eagerly trying to pull me off the building, and I realized it wasn't the wind grabbing at me, it was my demons, itching to throw me off the building. Thinking to my family, and how upset they would be a having no warning, I sent them an apology in my head, but before I could finish, gravity pulled me off the edge, and then I was floating. Opening my eyes, I saw the ground slowly coming towards me, and I smiled at how soft the concrete looked, my eyes stung from my tears and the wind, and I closed my eyes, letting myself ragdoll. 

A jolt went through my body and for a second I thought I hit the ground, but it was only around my waist, and I dredged open my eyes to see red and blue. Confused, I felt my stomach do flips as he swung...through the air...? 

"What the fu-"

"Hey! Sorry but I think you got off on the wrong floor." He said in a cheerful voice, but I could hear turmoil underneath the facade. He set us off on a much shorter rooftop, and kept his hands on my waist as I rested my feet down, but only for a second, but the unexpected intimacy of the situation made my heart leap all over my chest in confusion. I felt the situation slap me across the face as I realized, that he now knew I attempted suicide.

"Hey, uh are you okay?" he said, his face full of concern, and although he wore a mask, I knew he must have seen the cuts. I hadn't bothered trying to hide them on the way here, I had ripped off one of my hundreds of hoodies, and left me fully vulnerable in my short sleeve shirt. A luxury I had not given myself in a long time, I felt naked, which added to the intimate situation. I just met this man and he knew my darkest secret, and I didn't know anything about him.

"Who are you?" I ask, interrupting him before he had the chance to speak.

"Oh yeah, uh, I'm Spiderman! Nice to meet you!" he said, his innocent and cheerful voice made me realize he had to be around my age. I remembered hearing about him being in New York, so it was during one of my numb episodes, so I forgot about it. Silently, I calculated what to say next, because I knew he wouldn't tell me his real name. My emotions felt raw like they had been chafed from being so open, and now they felt like I was a little kid, fluctuating everyone. I was confused, depressed, shocked, and I felt so hopeless that I felt like I was falling down an endless pit.

"I'm (Y/n). How old are you?" I whisper, wanting to hear his voice, he sounded familiar, a very vague bell ringing in the back of my head.

"I'm 18 years old!" He responded immediately. I nodded, a little bit older than me then, I was a week away from being 18. I could hear him talking, babbling about how I mattered, in the usual post-suicide-attempt-pep-talk kind of way, and I interrupted him, deciding that I might not ever see him again, which was fine, and I could feel how vulnerable I was as I looked him sadly in the eyes.

"No, I don't. And I never will so don't expect a thank you for saving me." I whispered, turning to leave, not feeling comfortable with my arms exposed, talking to a guy as old as me, who saved me when I clearly had tried to kill myself. 

"Don't tell a single person about this or else," I called back to him as aggressively as I could.

"Or else what?" he asked, and I knew it wasn't a threat, he sounded genuinely curious.

"Or else I'll end you," I said, shocked to hear a very vague sense of playfulness in my own voice. Beet red, I entered the staircase down, and let the door shut behind me. I stood for a minute, and the loneliness hit me like a truck, I could feel an ache for friendship hug me tightly like a straitjacket, and I collapsed on the top stair, and balled, all of my issues swarming to me once again.