[Reforming as a whole, living person again takes a lot out of you. The day he'd reappeared alongside the guardians on Titan had been one of confusion and panic and — and all kinds of freaking out. Peter, though, he'd been shell-shocked by the whole situation, all the way up 'til the Guardians dropped off Dr. Strange and the kid, patted him on the shoulder, and nudged him back into the relieved arms of Tony Stark. It was certainly not the first hug he had gotten in that short time — a relieved Ned, a crying Aunt May, to which he let her cling while he closed his eyes and let himself exist in the moment.
He hasn't really addressed whatever's going on in his head, the feeling like his spidey senses have been spiked up to 100 instead of 11. Turns out, it's probably just general anxiety. But it's a stupid thing to have, because half the world suffered the same thing he did. Everyone else had to endure this, and they moved on with life, so he should move on with life, too. So he does his homework, he jokes and goofs around and wears the Spider-Man suit, and it does help.
But he can't sleep, and it's harder to focus. There's a lot of static.
Aunt May's worried, of course she is. Peter isn't too aware of her going behind his back and asking if he can stay with the Avengers for a short time — not for the heroism, but to help him through the funk he's in, because if there's anyone who can tell he's just going through the motions, it's her. So he's here, helping with different experiments, doing an essay due on Monday, straining to find the same energy he'd had before Thanos. It's not getting worse. That's good, yeah? Yeah.
He can't sleep because he dreams about ugly things he can't shake lose, so he wanders around the establishment instead, looking out the big windows and - and maybe poking around Stark's lab when he's probably off-limits. But there's some interesting stuff in here, and it kind of immediately lifts his spirits a little.
We won, Pete, he thinks. We're alive, so just... chill out. Okay?]
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He hasn't really addressed whatever's going on in his head, the feeling like his spidey senses have been spiked up to 100 instead of 11. Turns out, it's probably just general anxiety. But it's a stupid thing to have, because half the world suffered the same thing he did. Everyone else had to endure this, and they moved on with life, so he should move on with life, too. So he does his homework, he jokes and goofs around and wears the Spider-Man suit, and it does help.
But he can't sleep, and it's harder to focus. There's a lot of static.
Aunt May's worried, of course she is. Peter isn't too aware of her going behind his back and asking if he can stay with the Avengers for a short time — not for the heroism, but to help him through the funk he's in, because if there's anyone who can tell he's just going through the motions, it's her. So he's here, helping with different experiments, doing an essay due on Monday, straining to find the same energy he'd had before Thanos. It's not getting worse. That's good, yeah? Yeah.
He can't sleep because he dreams about ugly things he can't shake lose, so he wanders around the establishment instead, looking out the big windows and - and maybe poking around Stark's lab when he's probably off-limits. But there's some interesting stuff in here, and it kind of immediately lifts his spirits a little.
We won, Pete, he thinks. We're alive, so just... chill out. Okay?]