@spideyshop | ≬ | “ i’m so proud of you. i know it’s hard to get past these rough days, but… i still want you to know that i’m proud of you. “
The worst part about almost dying is how long it takes to recover; at least, that’s what Fern would say if someone were to ask him about it. He’s not sure how true that statement would be, because as it turns out there’s a lot that fucking sucks about almost dying — but he knows he’s never been very good at taking it easy.
He feels especially awful about it now, when he knows he could be out there helping people if he weren’t so useless. If he had Peter’s enhanced healing, or even the ability to do basic fucking tasks without feeling like he’s going to pass out, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; maybe Fern would be able to save people like he promised he would. Instead, he’s sitting in his stupid apartment on the verge of stupid tears because he barely even made it through his stupid physical therapy. (That’s not fair. It’s not Lori’s fault that his body doesn’t cooperate with him anymore.)
And of course, Peter has to be sweet about it. Has to tell Fern that he’s proud of him, as if he’s not just a total waste of space and letting everyone down —
Fern takes a deep breath, rubbing shaky hands over his face and doing his best not to cry. The guilt is overwhelming, self-hatred burning in his throat and making it difficult to swallow; he can’t even bring himself to look at Peter now. Not when he has that sincere face, and Fern knows he’s done nothing to deserve any of this.
“Why?” The word slips out before he can stop it, and it sounds just as broken and pathetic as he feels.
“I didn’t… I mean, it’s nice of you to say and all, and I get that you’re trying to make me feel better and shit. And I appreciate that, but I’m not… you shouldn’t be proud of me, Peter,” Fern grits out. Tears sting in his eyes, vision starting to blur as he fails to even blink them away. “I’m fucking useless. I should be better, I should be… I shouldn’t be struggling so much! It’s bullshit! I’m bullshit, and I can’t… I’m just sitting around like an asshole doing nothing, when I could be helping people! I could be helping, but I just…”
All the fight leaves him at once. His shoulders slump, and he frantically tries to wipe away the tears that are dripping down his cheeks. “Sorry. Sorry, just… god. This sucks, I’m sorry. I feel like I should be doing more.” He cringes at the way his voice cracks, burying his face in his hands for a second. “Can we just pretend I didn’t say any of that?”