Just watched the Justice League movie and it was amazing!!! I know I'm late to the party. Lol
I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. It was supposed to be up yesterday but my exotic animal enrichment classes are super in-depth. But fun nonetheless:)
Song for this chapter is Tightrope by the Score
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Peter gripped the strap of his backpack tightly, much tighter than was necessary. But he couldn't help it, his anxiety soaring through the proverbial glass ceiling. It was Sunday night and the end of May's extra shifts, which meant leaving the safety of Avengers Tower, where he felt most at home. He didn't want to go.
"Kiddo?" Tony spoke up from behind the teen, not expecting said teenager to let out a frightened squeak and jump up onto the ceiling. "Oh my-" he tried to suppress his laughter but failed, "sorry, bud. I didn't mean to scare ya."
"It's okay," Peter said as he dropped down from the ceiling, landing silently on his feet. "'M just getting ready to head out."
The teen's reluctance was unmistakable, and it pulled at Tony's heartstrings, playing a sad tune he couldn't bear to hear.
Peter, of all people, didn't deserve to suffer under the weight of being a hero. Not while he had to maintain a three-point seven GPA to keep the scholarship for Midtown, a place where he got bullied and was labeled an outcast. Not when he lived in poverty, struggling to afford basic needs every human being should have without question. Not after having a tragic childhood filled with abuse and medical experimentation.
Tony wanted nothing more than to pull the skinny little hero into a big hug and cuddle together up in his king-sized bed in the penthouse to watch a movie. To tell Peter how much he and the team loved him, how excellent of a hero he was, and that he made the world a safer, brighter place just by existing.
Anything to help Peter relax and feel loved. The kid deserved that much.
But he kept those thoughts to himself, tucking them away for a later time, and instead settled on, "I'll see you again soon. Friday'll be here before you know it." He ruffled the younger hero's hair, "you're my favorite intern. You know that, right?"
"Hey!" Peter swatted at his mentor's hand, playfully. His curls were hard enough to tame as it was; he didn't need anyone fluffing them up any further. "I'm your only intern, Mr. Stark," Peter smirked, looking and sounding more like Tony than he realized.
"Ah, speaking of intern," Tony muttered to himself as he pulled a thick white envelope from his back jeans pocket, "here. I almost forgot." He handed the envelope, which was now creased and crumpled from being in his pocket to Peter.
"No, Mr. Stark," Peter immediately tried to push the envelope back into the billionaire's hands, not keen on taking any of the man's money. Despite what the Avengers might think, he was not a charity case. Tony did this every other week despite Peter's insistence that he did not need to be paid. "I can't accept this."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Kid, you fix armor and make high-tech weapons for the Avengers. You fight with us on missions and risk your life patrolling on a daily basis. Not to mention that you help make SI tech and assist me immensely in the lab." He stuck his hands in his pocket and leaned back against the wall behind him. "You more than deserve to be paid for what you do. Besides, you need the money."
"I..." Peter let the sentence drop off, knowing Tony was right; he needed the money. Badly.
May barely made enough money to keep the apartment, her nursing job not being very lucrative. What little money was leftover went towards gas for May's decade-old car and food. On such a tight budget, May could only afford enough groceries to sustain one normal person. But Peter was not normal, and his aunt wasn't too keen on sharing any food with him. Not that he could blame her.
"Fine," Peter grumbled, reluctantly pocketing the envelope, which was undoubtedly filled with too much money.
He didn't want Tony, or anyone else for that matter, to see him as a charity case. But he couldn't help but feel relieved to have one less weight on his shoulders. Now, he didn't need to hunt for food this week. Hesitantly, Peter stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tony's neck, holding onto him loosely in case Tony wanted to pull away, not one for physical affection.
"Thank you, Mr. Stark, truly. I really appreciate it." And he did, because it wasn't often someone went out of their way to help him. Besides his two best friends, Mr. Delmar, and a few select teachers, no one was ever kind to him. Instead of being recognized as the gifted student he was, Peter got labeled a problem student because of the bullies that targeted him. Other SI scientists often ignored his genius, their inherent jealousy of the young protégé overshadowing everything Peter accomplished. Even Spider-Man got criticized, the Daily Bugle and anti-mutant organizations tearing apart his every move. Sometimes, Peter felt as if he couldn't do anything right, his insecurities blooming under the constant judgment that plagued him.
Tony cleared his throat, fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. No child should ever have to scavenge for food, fear going home, or struggle to live with a neglectful family. No one deserved that, especially not Peter. Squeezing his eyes shut, Tony managed to choke out a response, "no problem, Underoos."
"See ya later this week, kid." Happy gave the teen a curt nod before pulling away from the dilapidated apartment building.
Peter stood on the cracked, graffiti-covered sidewalk and watched Happy drive away until the black Audi merged into traffic and became lost in the sea of cars. He waited another few minutes before heading into his apartment building, trying to prolong the too-short moments before he had to confront his aunt.
One thing he had to look forward to was the one-thousand dollars tucked away in his backpack. A thousand dollars! Not nearly enough to feed his metabolism for more than a month or so, but it was much better than nothing. He survived on much less in the past and could certainly make do with what he had now.
Bypassing the broken elevator that had sat unused for nearly three decades, Peter made his way up seven flights of stairs. He stood outside of his apartment door, mentally preparing himself for whatever happened to be behind that cheap pine door. Slowly, Peter breathed in and counted to five before releasing the air in his lungs. If he learned one thing from his meditation sessions with Bruce, it was how to slow his heart rate and lower his cortisol levels effectively.
Taking another deep breath, he unlocked the door and slowly entered the dimly lit apartment with plain beige walls. The smell of smoke struck him immediately, and his spider-sense buzzed incessantly at the base of his skull.
"Where were you? Hm?" May asked from her seat in the living room, a heavy frown masking her delicate features. She gestured to the small space that was sparsely decorated with second-hand furniture, her scowl deepening. "I came home, and you weren't here. Even though you were supposed to be." She looked him up and down expectantly, a lit cigarette between her lips.
After a moment of pathetic stammering, Peter managed to stutter out a full sentence, his voice small and shaky. "I-I um... was at the-the in-internship. Mr. Stark needed my help with some Stark Industries tech."
May hardly ever bothered to ask where Peter was or what he was doing, not caring about her nephew in the slightest. The only times she bothered to talk to him was if she needed him to do something, like cleaning the apartment or if she was angry at him for some reason. Reasons he never seemed to be privy to.
She looked pretty damn mad right now. And Peter knew he was in for a beating by the time this conversation was over.
"I don't remember giving you permission." May stalked towards him, like a tiger cornering its prey, teeth bared and claws out. She grabbed his arm, slowly rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie, and pressed the lit end of her cigarette against his skin.
A quiet whimper escaped him at the sharp pain the smoldering paper brought. Peter fought his fight or flight instincts, forcing himself to remain still. If he tried to fight back, there would be hell to pay and there was nowhere to go so he couldn't run. Multiple small burn marks soon painted his forearm, sharply contrasting against the paleness of his skin.
"Now," May ran her fingers through her nephew's curls in mock gentleness, "what should I do with you?"
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MJ knew something was going on with Peter. Apart from the usual craziness that came with being a super-powered vigilante and Tony Stark's personal intern, something was bothering him. He was reticent and, despite his shy persona, was acting incredibly timid. So, when Ned headed off to his kitchen to grab some snacks for their weekly study/hangout, MJ decided to say something.
"What's up, loser?" She asked, going for a broad approach.
"W-what d'you mean?" Peter stammered lamely. He cleared his throat before trying again. "Nothing's up, MJ?"
She quirked an eyebrow and huffed sarcastically, "right. And the sky isn't blue." MJ lightly touched her friend's neck, her fingers ghosting over the barely-visible bruises. Bruises that looked like someone had dug their fingers into his skin. "Ned might be oblivious, but I'm not."
Peter shook his head, well aware of the fingerprint-shaped bruises on his neck. He was very malnourished, so his healing factor was slower than usual, leaving even the smallest of wounds unhealed. He even wore the MIT hoodie Tony gifted him in hopes that the collar would cover the lower half of his neck. "Nothing's wr-wrong." He managed to choke out. "Just uh, Spider-Man stuff."
"You don't have to lie to me." In a rare display of affection, MJ took Peter's hand and held it against her chest, just above her steadily-beating heart. "I care about you, dork. If you're in trouble, then I intend to help."
May beat me with one of Uncle Ben's old belts Sunday night and then nearly choked me to death less than two hours ago. He quickly shook those thoughts out of his mind. There was absolutely no way he would pull his friends into that mess. They didn't deserve that.
"I care about you, too." He spoke genuinely, lightly squeezing his crush's hand. "But I'm okay. Please don't worry about me."
MJ's typical demeanor of aloof indifference faltered momentarily. Peter, the skinny, adorable, lovable little nerd, made her happy. She couldn't deny how much he meant to her. If something ever happened to him...
"Hey, MJ?" Peter blurted, wringing his hands in nervous anticipation. He couldn't help but admire how beautiful MJ looked, the bright sunlight pouring through the windows illuminated her delicate features. "Do you, um... are you busy this weekend?" Holy shit. I can't believe I asked her. It was only Thursday, so he hoped he wasn't asking on too short a notice.
"My parents and I are going to visit my grandmother in Pennsylvania." She paged through her AP biology textbook as she talked. "She's turning ninety-seven, so we're throwing her a party."
He couldn't stop the little, discouraged, "oh," that escaped him, disappointment washing over him. But he quickly pulled himself together, not keen on letting MJ know how much her casual response hurt him. Obviously, it wasn't her fault, but he hoped he could have spent some time with her. Who knows if he could work up the nerve to ask her to hang out again?
"But I'm free the following weekend."
Peter's face lit up instantly, which caused MJ to smile. "Really!" He was positively beaming. "Do you want to, um, go to the park, maybe? Can we walk around and talk? Only if you want to, that is."
MJ giggled her cute little laugh that Peter had grown to love so much. "Sure," she nodded, "it's a date."
"Hey, guys. I got the good stuff." Ned said proudly, dumping a large handful of single-sized chip bags, packs of randomly assorted candy, and a six-pack of Pepsi onto the floor. He looked back and forth between his two friends in confusion. "What'd I miss?"
******
Crow stepped out of his inconspicuous moving van and began walking down the bustling sidewalks of Queens, New York. He could feel a buzzing in his veins that he knew was being caused by the child. The buzzing... It was pure energy. Raw power. And he wanted more of it.
"Oh, Peter."
He spun around to see two young teens walking out of a quaint corner-store cafe. Their hands were entwined, and they laughed as they walked, taking pleasure in the other's company. As the boy, Peter stepped closer, another wave of energy hit him.
"Peter." Crow smiled as he backed up into a nearby alleyway. "Can't wait to meet you."
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Also, I use the term meta and mutant interchangeably. I just wanted to say that in case anyone got confused.