<Okay, so this one got really dark somehow so I wanted to warn people. This one deals with serious depression and possibly borderline suicidal thoughts and could definitely be a trigger for some people. This was based on an ask by @corgidoggies, sorry if this wasn't exactly what you we're thinking but I guess this is where my messed up brain took me. The prompt was "Peter getting bullied at school and the Avengers find out." But I guess in this one, the bully is himself and his own thoughts and mental illness. But I guess the moral is that your depression is part of you, but it doesn't have to be. It's okay to let people in, to let them see you're hurting. There are people that care I promise, no matter how hard it seems. If you're struggling, please talk to someone. There are great counselors that will help you come to a better place and there is always someone who cares and will listen and understands. Stay strong, you are worth it!>

Peter wasn't sick. At least not as far as anyone could see. He had made sure of that. Slowly but surely, he had put distance between himself and his team, even from May. They couldn't fix his problem. Even he couldn't fix his problem, and that was the worst part, because technically he COULD do something about it, but it would only cause trouble for him. He hated being Spider-Man and Peter Parker at the same time. Spider-Man, he dealt with bullies all the time. He could swing in, make a witty comment, and save people from petty theft, rape, kidnapping, anything. But as Peter Parker, he could do nothing. Not when he was the one being bullied. He would love to punch the bully repeatedly until his face bled and he couldn't walk and he would hate himself for every little thing. But he couldn't do that. He had to hold back the darkness that kept getting worse, the voices in his head telling him to end that awful person, just because he could. But that would make him part of the evil. He couldn't do that, he had to keep the darkness at bay.

So he did what he could to avoid it, but nothing worked. He changed his class schedule so he wouldn't have to deal with him in class. He ate lunch alone in the band room with just Ned and sometimes MJ so he wouldn't be publicly humiliated at lunch. He took to leaving school just a few minutes early and quickly swinging away when he could get away with it. He deleted his Instagram so he wouldn't see the mean posts. He turned up the volume on his earbuds so he wouldn't hear the whispers.

But whatever he did, the bully worked harder. There was always in between classes. There was always the days Ned and MJ weren't there. There was always the days he couldn't leave early and he had to walk home. There was always something. If it had been physical bullying, he could have done something about it. If he had come home with bruises, the whole of the Avengers would have suited up and ended this kid. But it wasn't physical. It was the subtle whispers, the looks the jabs. The slow turning of everyone against him. Everyone hated him now. They hated him for something he hadn't done, but could never prove without revealing his secret identity. And besides, no one would believe him that he was Spider-Man. And he couldn't tell the Avengers. They wouldn't understand. After all, all of them were someone. They all could do something, he just pretended to.

Peter walked into his first period class, his stomach sinking. He forgot that the semester had changed. And the person he hated most in the entire world was sitting down smugly, with the only open seat being next to him. Peter sat down, putting his body as far out on the chair as possible. This was calculus, which should have been his favorite class because it was super easy for him. But he was stupid and worthless. He couldn't do anything right. He got called on to answer a question about the fundamental theorem of calculus, a simple theorem, but he blanked. He said the wrong answer. The whole class laughed at him. Each laugh sounded like knives being driven into his brain. He could feel the horrible smirk of that awful person. He could already feel the thoughts coming, no matter how hard he pushed against them. Worthless. Stupid. See, you thought you were smarter than the rest of us, but it turns out you're not even close. You don't deserve to be here. You can't even do this right. Shut up! Peter yelled in his mind. Shutupshutupshutup. Stupid voices. And then he realized everyone was staring at him. Without thinking, he ran. As far away and as fast as he could. He ran right out of the school building and into the streets of New York.

But he couldn't outrun the whispers. They chased him, no matter where he tried to run. Keep running, Parker. Keep trying to get away from me. You'll never succeed. No one cares for you. No one will listen to you. No one will find you or care when you die.

Peter has stopped running. He didn't know where he was or what he was doing. He mig he be sitting  against a wall, he might be flying through the air. He didn't know and he didn't care. The voice was right. No one cared for him. Everything was a lie. Maybe he was dead now. He was probably in hell. That would explain a lot. It was everything he deserved. He had never made a difference. Now was no different. Just take me, he whispered to the voice. You're right. I am nothing.

Time passed. He didn't know how long. But faintly, he heard someone calling his name. "Peter? Peter? Can you answer me? Peter, please wake up."

What was happening. Peter slowly opened his eyes. He saw red hair, eyes, and dress. Flames receded from her eyes, and she looked at his gently. "Peter, are you alright?"

Who was this? Wanda? A name floated into his mind. That sounded right, but why did he have no memory of her? She seemed nice though. Maybe she could rescue him from this pit of darkness. But as soon as he had this thought, another replaced it. No. She'll never save you. She doesn't love you. Besides, you're mine. All mine. You will always be mine. No one could save you, even if they wanted to. And the darkness moved around him again. The darkness caressed his cheek and led him far away. The darkness was where he belonged. The darkness was where he was safe. The darkness was him now.

~POV switch- Wanda~

Peter's eyes were closed again, and he was thrashing. Wanda tried to run forward and save him, but she was blocked by an invisible wall. She pushed back with her magic as hard as she could, and the wall parted just enough that she could see a dark figure surrounding Peter. The figure was holding Peter's body, now limp and still, and before she could get to him, the wall was back up. What was this? This was like nothing she had ever faced before. She needed backup, and fast. She sent out a pulse of her magic to the two people she knew could help her. And within seconds, the Sorcerer Supreme himself and the mind powered supercomputer landed next to her.

The three of them tried everything. They sent wave after wave of magic at the darkness, but it never receded for more than a second. And after a few minutes, Wanda become aware of a cry she was all too used to. It was Peter.  Doctor Strange readied his hands for a powerful blast of magic. "Wait!" Wanda yelled! "Stephen, don't!" But it was too late. The magic rushed forward, only to be consumed by the darkness.

And then suddenly it receded. Only Peter was left lying on the ground. Wanda looked around. The darkness was gone. And so was Strange.

"Stephen?" She yelled? "Where are you?" She got no response. She felt a hand on her back and turned to Vision.

"You must help him," Vision stated.

Wanda took a deep breath and approached Peter's lifeless form. She almost reached him when suddenly the darkness surrounded her. And now she could hear the whispers too. Worthless. Broken. Unloved. Undeserving. They swirled around Peter like knives. Wanda probed it with her magic. She could feel the dark force grasping for her. And then she felt peace. She knew what she had to do.

She reached out with her magic, not to attack, but to heal. She reached into all the dark thoughts and pushed them aside. She reached all the way into the center, where the evil figure looked over Peter. And she pushed with all her power. She pushed memory after memory into him. She filled him with goodness, with light, with love. And finally, he released Peter from his claws, the darkness peeling back and back until only a young boy remained.

It was Peter. There were two Peter's. The one in the ground and the one in front of her. She looked at then both closely. They were the same, but different. The Peter in front of her had all the light stolen from his eyes. He looked  haunted, haggard. Wanda reached out her hand to him and let him share his memories with her.

After it was done, he faded almost to nothing. But he was still there. He was a shadow that attached himself to Peter. And Wanda knew he might always be there. But she would always be here too. She would always be there for Peter. She would keep showing him that he was loved, that he did matter. And maybe some day, the voices in his head would disappear completely. But for now, she would be here for him, darkness and all.