Peter
An early morning haze envelopes the city of New York. It’s early October. The leaves are starting to change and the temperatures are dropping, especially this early in the morning. It’s a grey and cloudy day, with a slight drizzle coming down. People are walking to work in their coats, frowning and wishing they were anywhere but there, until one of the pedestrians points up at the sky enthusiastically with a cry of “Hey, look! It’s Spider-Man!”
All of a sudden, the bad mood is lost throughout the crowd as everyone immediately looks to the sky for the familiar streak of red and blue, calling out and waving to their favorite neighborhood super hero.
“Hey Spider-Man!”
“Good morning, Spidey!
“Stay safe Spider-Man!”
“Hey, everyone!” The hero calls back with a wave mid-swing. He shoots his next web and does some midair acrobatics for the crowd, inciting plenty of “oohs” and “ahs” before continuing on his way.
Spider-Man flashes by, shooting web after web from his wrists and flying between buildings. Eventually, he comes to a stop in a lonely alleyway. The spandex clad hero looks around carefully, weary of anyone who could be walking by unannounced, before reaching behind a dumpster and pulling out a faded blue backpack, wincing at the sounds of popping seams in the strap. He pulls out a bundle of clothes and quickly throws them on over the suit, frowning at the way his ankles show at the bottom of his jeans. With one last check around for anyone watching, he pulls off the mask, revealing the face of a young boy named Peter Benjamin Parker.
No, not young. Appears young, perhaps, but Peter will gladly argue with anyone who calls him a child. Being young implied a certain innocence, naivety, inexperience at life, and Peter most certainly was anything but those. Sure, he looked young, but with two sets of dead guardians and a handful of foster homes under his belt, he sure felt at this point that he would just be better off looking after himself. Unfortunately at 14 he was too young to legally have a job, or else he would’ve been long gone out of the foster system by now.
Don’t get him wrong, he’s tried to live on his own a few different times in the last couple of years since his aunt and uncle were killed, but an enhanced metabolism and lack of thermoregulation in the winter made that pretty difficult.
Peter throws his backpack over his shoulder by the one good strap, then sets off down the street with a little extra spring to his step. His walk quickens to a jog after seeing the time outside of a nearby building. Soon enough, he’s hopping up the steps of the West Brooklyn Community High School. He’s on time for class, he didn’t get any injuries on patrol this morning, and this old lady was so grateful for him helping her carry her groceries home from the corner store that she gave him a bagel for breakfast. The only time he ever got food before his free school lunch was when some kind person gave something to Spider-Man as a thank you, and he isn’t going to take it for granted. Today is going to be a good day. He can feel it.
“What’s got you in such a good mood, Parker? Your dad finally come back for you?” A gruff voice calls after him, interrupting his peaceful stroll down the hallway to his locker. Derek McDaniels. Fuck. Maybe it won’t be such a good day after all.
Peter rolls his eyes and keeps walking, hoping ignoring his problems is a good strategy for today.
“I’m talking to you, dipshit!” The voice, Derek, yells angrily, closer than before.
Peter’s sense flares and he mentally reminds himself that Peter Parker wouldn’t be able to dodge as a hand grabs onto his backpack and yanks hard. His already weakened backpack strap finally gives in and rips away from the fabric of the pack.
Peter is fuming. It took him forever to sew that strap back on the last time it ripped. He looks up at his assailant with rage in his eyes, but the other boy isn’t backing down. He just looks at Peter with a smug smile.
“Oh, my bad, Parker. I added a new hole to your trash backpack. Why don’t you just have your Mommy buy you a new one?”
Oh, it’s on.
Peter drops his remaining backpack strap and grabs the boy by the front of his shirt.
“What’s your problem today, Derek!” He growls, shoving the boy backwards into the lockers. “Still this upset about Erika Chen dumping your ass in the cafeteria last week? Or is this about the biology test you failed yesterday? How many more F’s before your parents ship you off to boarding school?” Peter shakes his head at the boy condescendingly.
A crowd starts to gather around them. Good. Let it be a lesson to them. Peter just started at this school at the beginning of this semester, and his classmates still haven’t gotten the idea into their thick skulls that he isn’t to be messed with.
Spider-Man is good, and kind. Peter Parker didn’t have to be.
Derek recovers quickly from being thrown into the lockers, and winds up a punch right at Peter’s jaw. He easily ducks out of the way, grabbing Derek’s arm and twisting it around his back painfully, pushing his face hard against the lockers. He holds the boy there for a few seconds before throwing him to the ground and backing away.
“What are you all looking at?” He snaps at the crowd and they quickly disperse. Maybe they’re finally learning.
Peter has been through this plenty of times in the last few years, the new school thing. If it wasn’t because he was getting kicked out for one reason or another, it was because he was moved foster homes to a different school district. He’s pretty much constantly the new kid, which means you either get picked on until you get moved again, or you quickly show the other kids that you’re the top dog around here. It’s been a little over a month at West Brooklyn, and these dumbass kids still were having trouble grasping that concept, especially that dickwad Derek McDaniels.
Peter doesn’t like to think of himself as a particularly violent person. Sure he’s got a mouth on him, and he shoves bullies around to make a statement, but he doesn’t actually enjoy hurting people. Luckily, shoving people around a bit and being good at dodging and talking shit are about all it takes to get a bad rep in a high school.
Peter makes it almost through the day with no more trouble, until he hears his phone buzz in the middle of his last class. Mrs. Fernandez was in the middle of explaining balancing chemical equations, something Peter could easily do in his sleep, so he pulls his phone out to look at the text.
It was from his best friend, Ned….okay, his only friend, Ned. But even if he did have other friends, Ned would still be the best. He’s been Peter’s best friend since they were in elementary school, and they were in all the same classes until Aunt May and Uncle Ben died a few years ago and Peter had to switch schools away from Queens Middle to wherever that first foster home had landed him. Honestly, he’s been so many places by now that he can’t really remember them all anymore.
Ned: hang out at mine after class today? Lola got me a new PS4 game for acing that AP bio test I had last week.
Peter types out a quick reply that he would be there at four, and glances up to see his teacher staring daggers at him from the front of the room and the whole class watching in silence.
“Mr. Parker,” she begins with an annoyed drawl. “What have I told you about phones in class?” Her lips purse together as she waits for him to respond like the respectful young gentleman she for some reason expects him to be. She always seems like she has it out for Peter. He always sees her looking at him out of her thin framed glasses with a look of disapproval. Peter is convinced that he can get her to retire by the time he gets kicked out of this school. He’s done it before, and he’s sure she’s well past old enough.
“Umm” he says thoughtfully as he puts on his best thinking face. “I believe it was that if your lessons are so boring that I physically could not look at you anymore, then I could entertain myself with something more productive.”
The murderous look on her wrinkled face made the whole exchange worth it. He almost chuckled. She keeps her cool this time. Sometimes she loses her shit which Peter always finds very amusing.
She waltzes over to him and holds out her hand, palm up.
“Phone. Now.”
Peter hands it over with a roll of his eyes. Mrs. Fernandez smirks as she turns around, and as Peter could never let her have the last laugh, he brings both hands to the top of his desk, middle fingers up, with a loud thump.
His teacher spins around quickly as soon as she hears the noise, and Peter just as quickly puts his middle fingers down and his thumbs up. Her eyes dart from his face to his hands, but she says nothing else before returning to the front of the room and continuing the lecture.
He gets his phone back after class along with a Saturday detention slip. Just great. Ned had just replied that he would see Peter after school, so Peter turned the opposite direction of the house that he’s currently living in, and started walking to Ned’s.
The sight of Ned’s apartment always brought some peace to Peter. He wouldn’t say it felt like home, but since May and Ben died, it’s the only place that has felt familiar and permanent. It’s a safe place.
Peter knocks on the front door and is quickly ushered in by his friend.
“Dude, I cannot WAIT for you to see this new game that Lola got me. It’s INSANE!”
Soon enough, he was stationed on the floor of Ned’s room with a controller in his hand and his best friend right beside him. Yeah, he definitely needed this.
“Do you want to order a pizza while you’re here?” The bigger boy eventually asks, as the light shining through Ned’s bedroom window quickly grows dimmer.
Peter drops his controller onto the carpet, just now noticing how hungry he was. “Pizza sounds amazing, dude. All I’ve had the last 24 hours is a soggy school hamburger and a bagel. What would I ever do without you?”
Ned looks at him seriously. “Starve.” He responds. “Are you sure you don’t want to report the Pattersons and get moved? Withholding food really isn’t okay.”
Peter scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Ned, come on. Who cares that the Patterson’s sometimes don’t feed me. I talk back constantly. It’s just a punishment.”
Ned looks at his friend like he wants to argue. “I don’t know, Peter. This really seems like abuse. It might be better than some other places you’ve been to, but it still isn’t right.”
Peter rolls his eyes again at his friends dramatics. It’s not abuse. They don’t do anything to Peter that he doesn’t deserve, not that he could ever tell Ned that. The other boy wouldn’t understand.
Sometimes Peter feels like he’s only able to be his real self when he’s with Ned, and other times he feels like all he does with his friend is put on a good show. Ned doesn’t know about everything he’s done. He doesn’t know how bad of a person Peter is now. He’s only still friends with Peter because Peter still acts like he’s the same kid that Ned befriended in elementary school. Ned doesn’t know how far he’s fallen, nor does he need to.
Sometimes, Peter thinks that Ned would be better off without him, but every time he’s tried to break off their friendship, Ned hasn’t let him. Even the look of sympathy his friend is giving him right now is too much. He doesn’t deserve Ned or his sympathy.
“It’s really okay, Ned.” He finally replies. “I have you looking out for me. I can handle a few missed meals until I age out of the system.”
Ned looks back at him with pity, but he doesn’t argue. “I still think if we just found out who your dad is, that you could go live with him instead of the stupid Pattersons.”
Peter huffed in annoyance. “This again, Ned? I’ve told you a million times, it’s not going to happen.”
Ned looked back at him with a look of determination that Peter knew after years of friendship meant that Ned was never going to give his idea up.
“I know, I know, but if you find your dad and he wants to take care of you, then that would be the answer to all of your problems!”
Peter opened his mouth to retaliate, but Ned put a finger up to hush him before he even started speaking.
“And I don’t want to hear any of your excuses about how he doesn’t want you, because more than likely he doesn’t even know that you exist. I’m just trying to help you get out of that shitty foster-“
“And what if he’s worse?” Peter interrupts loudly, silencing his friend. Ned stares at him for a moment in shock.
“What if I find him, and he’s worse?” Peter asks again, quieter. “Then what? I’m stuck there. I can’t just get up and move to another foster home, because I’d be with my real, biological parent. What then, Ned?”
Peter could see the determined look still in Ned’s eyes, and knew his friend still wasn’t deterred.
“I wouldn’t let that happen to you.” The other boy replies, but Peter knows there are some things no one can protect you from. Even now, Ned only knew the minimum of the abuse that Peter us taken throughout the years, and Peter would do anything to keep his friend ignorant.
“Of course I know that.” Peter replies anyway. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? Can we just drop it for now?”
Ned looks like he has a lot more to say on the subject, but he holds his tongue this time and just nods. “Sure. But don’t think we’re done talking about it completely.”
Oh yes, Peter definitely knows. They would never be done talking about this, but for now, they get back to their pizza and video games until Ned’s mom inevitably kicks Peter out of the house when it gets too late. It is a school night after all.
What Peter doesn’t know as he makes the long trek back to his foster house is that Ned decided that day that he was done waiting around for Peter to help himself. He finally saved enough money for a DNA test, and he was going to help his friend, even if Peter claimed he didn’t want it. He swabbed some DNA from the cups that Peter drank from that night, and in 6-8 weeks he would have the information he needs to save his best friend.