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Chocolate Cake

Summary:

Rowan is ready to die.

They're about to jump, when Spider-Man appears on the roof next to them.

Notes:

Warning: Suicide ideation. Don't read if it will trigger you.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tears blurred Rowan's vision and stained their cheeks as they looked down, down, down over the edge of the roof. The apartment building Rowan had been living in for the past two years and was now standing at the top of was certainly not the tallest in Queens, but it was more than tall enough to do what Rowan wanted.

 

They had already sent their goodbye texts to all the people who had stuck around in Rowan's life – even that kind man at the bar down the street with the tired eyes. Rowan had almost worked up the nerve to ask him out many times, but in the end, backed out. As much as they liked him, Rowan couldn’t handle another relationship; not with how horribly the last one ended and left them. And the situationship before that.

 

More tears flowed down Rowan's cheeks at the memories. The memories that plagued their every day and every night. The memories that were wonderful company to the ones of motivation and energy slipping through their fingers like water; of staring at the blank canvas that occupied Rowan's easel for over a month and feeling nothing; of waking up and wishing they hadn't.

 

The usual sounds of sirens wailing grew louder until police cars and ambulances grew closer until they parked haphazardly in the parking of the apartment building below Rowan. More dread filled them when they realized the error in not having the goodbye messages be set to send at a set time; One of them must have called 911.

 

A sob escaped Rowan's chapped lips. They had been hoping to be able to do this quietly without much fuss outside of their own. It was too late for that now. Rowan calmed their sobs a bit by taking a deep breath and looking up at the sky. They would be able to see the stars if not for the light pollution of the large city. It didn't matter anyway. They wouldn't be able to stop them. They heard all the phrases before: “You have so much to live for,” “It's a bad day, not a bad life,” and so on. They especially didn't want to hear it from people who just saw them as just another depressed person to calm down. No. Rowan definitely didn't want to go through that. They closed their eyes, tears escaping as they did, and took a deep breath.

 

A soft thump behind them. Rowan turned their head down from the light-choked sky and opened their eyes, but didn't turn around. It was probably a cop coming up to try to talk them down.

 

“Hey,” said a voice. It wasn't cautious, like the person was treading eggshells, as if Rowan might jump off the roof at the word. It wasn’t apathetic, like the person was only pretending to care for Rowan because this was a part of their job. It didn't even sound that professional. It was said… conversationally?

 

Rowan turned their head to look at the person and nearly tripped off the roof's edge at the sight of bright red and blue spandex covering a small figure standing calmly a few yards away. The surprise was quickly replaced with frustration and annoyance that he was most likely here for the same reason the cops and paramedics were.

 

“Don't,” Rowan said, their tone flat as they tried to swallow down the tears. “Don't give me the whole spiel about how I’m making a mistake, how it could be worse, how much my family will miss me.”

 

Spider-Man raised his hands in a show of surrender. “I won't. I won't. I promise.”

 

Rowan was momentarily caught off-guard at how he didn’t even fight back. He didn't even try to get any closer to pull them away from the edge.

 

They nodded. “Okay.”

 

The vigilante's bug-eye lenses watched them, but by the calm way he held himself, Rowan could tell the expression under the mask was most likely not wary or impassive. They turned back to look over the edge of the apartment building roof. The police and paramedics had left their vehicles and now littered the parking lot, looking up, watching them.

 

Tears pooled in Rowan's eyes once more, and they blinked them out. They spilled down their cheeks, tracing the salty trails of the tears that had dried in the gentle wind.

 

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

 

Rowan scoffed, whipping their head around to glare at the arachnid. “Give me one good reason not to do it.”

 

He didn't immediately give them an over-used answer, one probably heard in some movie. Instead… he paused, tilting his head to the side slightly, as if actually thinking. As if actually looking for a good answer.

 

Spider-Man looked back at them. “Don't kill yourself… because you still have to make the perfect chocolate cake.”

 

Rowan faltered, their brain seeming to short-circuit. “What?”

 

The mask shifted and the lenses narrowed slightly. He was smiling. “Don't kill yourself… because you still need to become an expert on penguins,” he continued.

 

They opened their mouth to respond to the nonsense, but no words came.

 

Spidey pressed on. “Don't kill yourself, because… there's still that little bit of frozen yogurt left in the freezer.”

 

There was, in fact, no leftover frozen yogurt in Rowan's fridge. The vigilante was making things up on the spot.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because you haven't seen the northern lights up close.”

 

They… hadn't.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because you… haven't gotten that silly little tattoo you know you’ll regret later.”

 

A wet laugh startled out of Rowan.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because you still need to learn how to make candles.”

 

Rowan thought of their mother. She always did love candles.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because who else will wear your favorite outfit as well as you do?”

 

They took a step away from the edge.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because you haven't listened to your favorite song 1,001 times.”

 

More tears flowed.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because who will appreciate your pet rocks as much as you do?”

 

A small smile.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because you still don't know how to pronounce the longest word in the dictionary.”

 

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.

 

“Don't kill yourself, because you'll miss the feeling of staying up all night binge-watching or binge-reading, and being so tired that you fall asleep in the warm sun.”

 

Rowan walked forward on shaking knees. Spider-Man met them halfway and pulled them close into a hug.

 

“And don’t kill yourself, because there are so many little reasons it’s worth staying alive for... and you are worth it.”

Notes:

I believe in you. You're so much stronger than you could ever know.

<3

 

ALSO! I am taking requests, so if you have a Spider-Man story idea, and you like my writing style, let me know what it is in the comments, or send me an email (my email address should be in my profile)!