Just the typical sad marvel thing /Peter

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[time skip - five days later]

Peter's pov:
I wake up to Bruce messing with something next to me. After about two hours of sleep, I feel exhausted. As he notices I'm awake, he smiles and says, "I think you can go now, the treatment is finished. But know that we're here. Everyone is there for you, so you can talk to basically anyone." I nod and then get to my room as fast as possible. I feel so dirty and disgusting. I take a shower. And then I lay in my comfy bed, with my favorite blanket, and put in my headphones. I've decided to talk as little as possible and because I'm angry with Bucky and Steve, I'll not talk to them at all. So this way no one will know anything about me. I don't care anymore. I'll make a new plan, a new place. I'll have enough time with my thoughts to ensure I succeed this time. I turn the volume up on my phone to the maximum. I don't want to talk to anyone. A little while after, someone comes into my room but I don't hear it. After a few minutes, I noticed from the corner of my eye but I pretended I didn't hear or see him. It was Steve. I heard his muffled talking but I didn't care enough to stop the music in my ears. He stands there for minutes before coming to the other side of my bed to face me. I purposely don't look at him, I stare towards my bathroom, not focusing on anything in particular. Then after a while my eyes tremble up at his and I see his mouth moving but I don't hear him. I turn away after a few seconds and then wait until he leaves. I get back to my own little world of thoughts.

Bucky's pov:
I talked with Steve about Peter being mad at us and he just went to talk with him. So, I'm sitting in the living room now alone. Alone with my thoughts and they're killing me already. If Steve hadn't been there, you wouldn't have saved him, you're useless. You were the reason he went to the roof that day. Peter hates you now. You're worthless. You couldn't even do anything well. I need some distractions before this turns into something way worse. My first thought is to turn on the TV. I don't care what show I'm watching, I just need something to get me away from my mind. When Steve comes back to me, the TV is going but I'm just staring at the ground. It clearly was not helping like I wanted it to. "Buck," Steve says so I look up at him. "You good?" I nod. I turn off the TV and ask him about what happened. "He was listening to music. I'm not even sure he heard me because I could hear the music coming through his earphones. He was avoiding eye contact and was ignoring me." "Well, I thought this was gonna happen. He's angry at us. He didn't want to be saved..." I say, "Let's just give him some time and then we'll see," Steve nods. "What's wrong?" he asks. "What do you mean?" I look at him confused. "You were spacing out here when I came back, what's going on?" "I uhm," I pause. I don't want to bother him with my things. And I know I can take care of it myself. I decide to lie, even though it's a risk because he usually knows when I lie. "I was just thinking how to make the kid speak," I say after all. He looks me in the eyes for a quick second, staying silent. Then he says, "I'm here if you need to talk, you can trust me, Buck." I feel a lump forming in my throat as he says this. But I hold it in and just nod and say thank you. I think I can swallow this one down and act fine, I can't cry.

Tony's pov:
A few hours ago, I already tried to go and talk with Peter but he was sleeping. Now I'm seeing if he's awake yet because I want to know what's going on with him and check on him. I open his door slightly to see if he's awake. I see him standing in front of his window, looking out. I knock before opening in. "Hey, kid." He takes his earphones out and says hi. "How are you?" "Fine I guess," he says unsurely. "You can talk to me," I say. He doesn't say anything at first but then he says, "I don't want to talk to anyone... sorry." "It's okay, you don't have to say sorry, I understand." "How's your arm?" I ask. "It hurts. But whatever," he says emotionlessly. I sigh, "I was so worried, kiddo. I was so helpless. I thought... I thought you would never..." He doesn't react to my sentences. He acts like he doesn't care. But does he? He still just looks out the window, staring in front of himself. He finally mutters 'I'm sorry.' He acts differently, I don't know what to do. "Talk to me kid, please." He just shakes his head. "I'm not going to, I don't want to talk to anyone," he repeates. I hear in his voice that he's choked up already. "Okay," I sigh and I go out of his room.