It starts after his battle with Beck. At first, he thinks, it'll go away. Residual anxiety from fighting various villains, like how he was scared of heights for a week after fighting the Vulture, or afraid of locked rooms. A quick 'is this real?' whispered at Ned during class, or an embarrassing check with Aunt May during dinner. They all say it's okay, that he has the right to be worried, after all he's been through.

He wakes up at night with the feeling of the gun pointed at his head, Beck's finger still on the trigger. The feeling of the train hitting him, multiple bones breaking under his skin, enough to make him breathless and weak. Watching MJ fall down the Eiffel Tower, unable to save her.

And worst of all, Tony's cracked iron-man suit, infested with the spider that had bitten him when he was fourteen, telling him all the ways he screwed up.

"Looks like you screwed the pooch, kiddo. What kind of Spider-Man are you if you can't even save people? You should've pulled off the gauntlet when you had the chance. Hell, even better, you should've snapped your fingers. You were the strongest out of all of us."

Each day he tried to reason with Tony, but the insults only got worse. Telling him he shouldn't be around if he can't save one single person, constantly belittling his relationship with MJ, saying he doesn't even deserve her.

It gets so bad that he starts to not sleep at night, going out on more riskier patrols. He almost wishes for muggers to have guns, just hoping that maybe one day he would be too slow to dodge a bullet to the head or heart.

It scares him to know what he's become, all because of Beck's betrayal. His words cut into him like a knife he can't escape, digging deeper until he finally bleeds out.

"Maybe if you were better, Tony would still be alive."

He wakes up in the middle of the night to find Aunt May hovering over his bed, with tears in her eyes. The one woman who he's had for most of his life, one of the strongest women he knew (besides MJ) having literal tears in her eyes.

"Peter?" She asked, sitting down at the foot of his bed. She reaches out to touch his face, being made starkly aware of the tears falling from his eyes.

"A-Aunt May?" He responded, his voice scratchy and raw.

Like he had been screaming.

She gasped, throwing herself at Peter and gripping her with all of her strength. She had rubbed his back while whispering it was alright, while he was confused why she was crying.

"What's…" He trailed off, before the memories hit him. The patrol. The mugger, pointing at his head and screaming at him. How he had froze up, letting the man shoot his victim.

How he had ran home, almost 1 am, too exhausted to even have emotions as he fell asleep. How Tony had taunted him yet again, telling him in too many words about how he should kill himself.

Aunt May had saw all of that, his thrashing and screaming and cries of 'Please don't hurt her!', cutting off into whimpers and soft cries of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…'

His tears started to fall rapidly as the memories rushed through him, making him feel like the air was stolen from his lungs. He wrapped his hands around Aunt May and buried his head into her shoulder, violent sobs wracking his body as he held onto her frame.

He's reminded all over again of Beck's betrayal, and a wave of anxiety washes over him. Was this all real? Or was it just a simulation, like he had been put through before?

God, what was wrong with him?

"Is this real…?" He whispered to himself as they sat in his darkened room, moonlight hitting their shaking bodies. The nightmares, that woman's breath leaving her body as she lay there, bleeding out on the sidewalk.

"Yes, it is…  I'm sorry, Peter, that you have to go through this," He hears May murmur, her fingers intertwined in his hair. "Such a sweet boy…"

His breath hitches as May's words wash through him, a pang of regret and guilt hitting him.

"May," He breathes out, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I was Spider-Man."

He doesn't know why he's saying it, but the words keep tumbling out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry I lied about the internship, I'm sorry I've been risking my life every single day without telling you, making you even more worried," His voice breaks, fresh tears welling up in his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry for being such a crappy son, who can't even tell what's real and what's not."

May's eyes widen as she hears Peter whisper those words, recoiling like she was slapped.

"Don't you ever say that," She spoke lowly, cradling his face in her hands. "If anything, I have the best son I could ever ask for."

Peter shakes his head, gripping her shoulders with a controlled strength.

"No, you don't…" He whispers, looking down. "A normal son would be sneaking out to parties, not to fight crime."

He always turns the thought over in his head, what if he had been normal? What if he wasn't cursed with the powers the spider had given him? Someone else would have to fight Beck, be put through their various personal demons.

Why him?

"Who says I have to have a normal son?" May asks, a soft smile growing on her face. "I wouldn't want you any different, Pete. Not many people can say their son has saved the world, and still can be humble about it."

"But maybe… maybe if I had been better," Peter murmurs