Darkness
Peter wasn't a stranger to small, dark enclosed spaces. When he was little, he found them comforting. Tucked into the corner of a wooden closet, hidden away the flowery prints that smelt of perfume, he was invisible to the world - just how he liked it. He used to pretend he couldn't hear the shouting. It was better that way.
However, this was not the cupboard of flowery dresses nor was he six years old anymore. Now it was a cold hard nothing. But he got through it like always, counting the decimals of pi until his brain went numb, or imagining a chess set on the ceiling, moving the pieces against an imaginary opponent. His mind kept drifting back to his interview though and he realized not for the first time, how much he truly wanted it. For kid like him, it could be life-changing.
Time passed weirdly, but eventually the door cracked open and a slither of light flooded in the room. Reliefs overwhelmed the bitter anger that had settled in the pit of his stomach, and he choked out more appeasing apologies. Reassuringly, the staff's faces returned to the familiar indifferent grimace, but the other boys, his reluctant friends or perhaps allies is the more accurate term to describe to their relationship, wouldn't meet his eye. Maybe he just desperately lonely, or confused or he didn't know what, but he kept trying, however futile his attempts may be.
Nothing changed at school, except maybe his darker under eye bags, but Peter had mastered fake enthusiasm a long time ago, and the happy go lucky kid that Midtown knew was still there, masking his exhaustion. Ned was a lifesaver like always, and the incessant interrogation about Stark Industries was a comfort really - his enthusiasm ensured an avoidance of more unsavoury topics.
"I cannot believe you were the youngest one there. Peter, do you know what this means?! The most reputable, sought-out internship like ever, and to get it in high school! How incredible!" Ned rambles excitedly, his hands waving around animatedly, and unpredictably.
"Slow down Ned, I haven't got in yet, it was just an interview," Peter responded, still trying to finish the physics worksheet before next lesson.
"Oh come on, we all know you'll get it, and then my best friend will officially be an intern at stark industries. And then you'll go to MIT and be a famous scientist and like rule the world or something -" he continued. He only paused when mj and Peter started chuckling.
"Rule the world?" mj questioned laughing, but still managed to narrowly dodge the pencil chucked at her head.
"You're telling me that Tony Stark doesn't rule the world? With all his money and influence, that man had more power than the president! Why couldn't Peter do that?" Ned continued.
Peter laughed heartily, "What? I'm not Tony stark!"
"No, no he does have a point," Mj interjected, "You could be the ethical Tony Stark."
"Do I need to remind you again, that I haven't actually got this internship?" Peter retorted.
Ned continue on, ignoring his pessimism, "What if you get to meet the Tony stark? I'd literally die!"
"All Stark had to do was possess half a brain, and wait for his dad to die to get his inheritance, I'd rather meet Pepper Potts, the icon went from being an assistant to the fucking CEO of the most powerful company in the world!" Mj replied.
"Well, once Peter becomes friends with Tony Stark, the he can introduce you to Miss Potts."
"Haven't got the internship, and not meeting Tony Stark!!"
"You're such a pessimist," Mj retorted.
"Says you," Peter replied.
God, how his life would be so much better if he had a phone to contact them outside of school. But they were still here, he got to see them everyday at school, and was not gonna take that for granted any time soon. He wondered about the others at the group home. Did they have these kind of friends? How long has it been since they got to see them? How long will it be before he gets cut of from his friends?
Sometimes when these kind of questions won't stop bouncing around his head, Peter thinks that maybe he should have stuck out with Ben for longer. Sure it was awful, but this kind of instability was torture. He could he ripped away form his whole life tomorrow and what could he do about it? Fuck all.
But dwelling on all this wasn't productive, nor useful, and Peter was determined that he wasn't gonna be another statistic.
He was surprised to find his backpack and shared room returned to him, bedding and all. Not only that but it wasn't empty. Silent and gloomy but not empty. Peter didn't want to pry, despite his burning questions, so he stayed quiet, put his head down and tried to concentrate on an essay of his. It was difficult to do so though, considering the constant darkness the room was immersed in, as well as his apprehension in disrupting the others. He found a slither of light that peeked in through the bar window, just enough to see his scribbles if he positioned it just correctly. The only problem was that Felipe was by the window, playing with the curtains. He kept closing and opening them like he was hoping to see something different. Something other than the dreary grey of the congregate garden. No luck yet though.
The flickering of the limited light was beginning to frustrate Peter though. If he didn't ace this essay, his grade in English might drop to a B, and school was still his first priory.
Just when he was about blurt out something to get him to stop, Peter noticed a makeshift bandage tied lossless around Felipe's right palm. Faint lines of red stood out when a ray of sun glanced over his hand.
A question barely formed on Peter's lips when Felipe had followed his gaze, and then decisively shut the curtain. The sudden darkness obscuring his hand from sight.
Peter glanced over to the bunk bed where Miles was curled up just in time to catch him shoving his hand under the grey blanket, hiding it from sight. They made eye contact for a few tense seconds before Miles turned over and pulled the blanket over his head. Looking up at the two other boys on the top bunks, he was met with blank stares.
"What happened- " he began, curiosity overwhelming his apprehension.
"Don't ask, kid," Felipe evenly.
"Was it them? Did they.. for yesterday?"
He only received silence and empty stares in return.
"I don't understand. Why- " Peter started before being cut off.
"Yeah, you don't understand a lot. You're fucking gone half the time," a voice sounded form a top bunk.
"I thought group homes don't hit," Peter whispered, a bit more subdued, "I didn't get-"
"Yeah well, if they don't let you outside, then who cares what they do?"
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Like you haven't received your fair share of hits," Felipe scoffed.
"Not like that."
"Well that's life."
The room was silent for hours. Or maybe it was seconds. Being in a room with no phone, no clock, and shut curtains fucked with Peter's mind, more than he would admit.
A sigh filled the room.
"It's not that bad, kid," Felipe, "Sorry, I'm just bitter, and I wish that I could leave."
Peter looked up at him sympathetically.
"You've got a golden ticket. I ain't saying that you haven't struggled, we all have, and we all know that foster kids come with built in trauma. But you- nice, intelligent, polite white kid - you're the one people want to help. You're the one that they give scholarships to, you're the one in the movies that gets taken in, cared for, and encouraged by those adults that just fell good about themselves. You're the one that gonna succeed, you are the exception. And that's great, that's - we all want that, it's just - it just a hard pill to swallow. Hard to see you, with the internship, and the fancy school, and us stuck with Matron, dark, small rooms and bleeding palms."
After a beat of consideration, "yeah, I get that," Peter replied, "do you - do you want me to say anything, you know about... about all this?"
"No." Miles added, "Nothing good ever comes from reporting."
"I wish I reported," Peter replied quietly, " I wish I got a few good years with my aunt, I'd give anything to know her as someone separate to him."
"Same with my mum. If it weren't for that guy and his drugs, she could have been ... I don't know, better, but now, I ain't got nobody. This place, you guys are all I got," Felipe questioned.
"I reported." Miles said.
The other boys heads turned in his direction.
"And I regret it every single day."
He didn't elaborate further, and no-one asked him to. Maybe there wasn't a right choice and a wrong choice. Maybe there were just choices. Maybe one type of person could choose whatever they wanted, and it'd be the right choice. And maybe for another person, every option they had would lead to a wrong choice.
This weighed on his mind all night, all morning. He walked slowly into school, appreciating the little pockets of solitude he found in his day. He couldn't do anything for the others, but he could for himself - appreciate his opportunities, and fight every day to be a better version of himself. As he walked up to the doors of his school, Ned stood on the steps, beaming widely when he saw Peter. He rushed over, full of energy and tackled him into a huge hug.
"I knew you'd do it. You are fucking incredible ... I cannot believe it.." he rambled excitedly.
Mj hung back, leaning against the school doors with a soft smile. A crease formed in between her eyebrow.
"You have heard right?" Mj questioned.
"Heard?" Peter replied, as his heart began to race. Could it be? Oh how he hoped it was.
"You got in loser, congratulations," she added, smiling more widely.
Pure joy filled him from head to toe as he struggled to process this incredible news. This was his dream and it was actually coming true. Ned tackled him again into a tight hug, and Peter laughed breathlessly.
He was gonna be okay. He was gonna be more than okay.