He didn't need help, he needed a distraction. A distraction from this ever present need to save everyone. A distraction to keep him from reliving ever single mistake he'd made in his life.
He didn't need newspaper clippings; pinned to his wall with faces and names he'd memorized all too obsessively. He needed friends, and he needed his family, but the past few years of his life had told him all too clearly how impossible that was to be.
When it really came down to it, the one who needed saving was Peter.
Trudging into his house and sliding closed all the locks; he strode toward his wall of shame. The newspaper clippings dared to protest this, but no one had seen the other side, the names written in his quick scrawl, names of each and every person he'd let down. People he'd let die.
Brushing his fingers down the rough texture, he released a sigh and dropped himself to the floor, sitting with his back against the wall and resting his face in his hands, the phone ringing behind him before passing onto the phone box, his brother's voice speaking into it but he didn't care what. He was too exhausted, too tired of trying to save everyone, for once, he would let Nathan wait.
-Surrounded by your mistakes and guilt, how mature…-
Swallowing, he clenched his teeth together, refusing to react. The voice had been stronger in the back of his head of late; he'd lost all his powers, only able to retain one at a time, but that hunger, that voice wouldn't give up. It whispered into his ear in the familiar voice of his self-proclaimed nemesis.
-I told you, didn't I Peter? You're the villain, and I'm the hero…It only makes sense. You let all those people down, I just liberated them from their suffering.-
The chuckling rung in his ear and he clasped his hands over his ears, trying to ignore the condescending tone whispering taunts and insults into his ears, ceasing only when a pounding met the door.
Standing and unlocking the door, his body tensed as it was engulfed in an embrace, "Oh, thank God…" Nathan whispered, refusing to let Peter free, "I think I'm in trouble, Peter…" And once again, he pushed his own problems to the back of his head.
He was a Hero, and would always be the doing the saving. But in the end, who would save him when the voice won?