Peter
Peter spent the rest of his afternoon after his lunch with Rhodey in his bed. He was so physically and emotionally drained after their talk, and his stomach was finally full for the first time in days and was dedicating all of his energy to healing his injuries. He figured he’d be too stressed to sleep when he laid down, but he had a surprisingly restful nap.
He got up a little bit before Bill and Diane are due to arrive home to make sure everything in the apartment is picked up. The last thing he needed was another thing for his body to worry about healing. He must’ve done a good enough job, because they seemed content with the state of things when they arrived.
Now, he’s in the kitchen like usual for the evenings, gathering supplies to make dinner. He just gets all the vegetables out to start chopping when he hears the doorbell ring. He doesn’t bother paying it any attention since it’s usually just a girl scout selling cookies or one of the neighbors or something.
He hears the door open and the murmuring of Bill speaking to whoever is there, but he just tunes it out and focuses on his dinner preparation. Which is why he has absolutely no warning when his name is called from the direction of the door. He jumps slightly and almost drops his knife.
Great. Whatever this is, it can’t be good.
He hustles to the front, knowing well that if someone is asking for him, he’s definitely getting punished for it tonight.
He comes around the corner and his stomach immediately drops to his feet. Bill is smiling at him in the way that makes it look like he’s trying to kill Peter with just his eyes since he can’t actually kill him in front of a witness, and he’s holding the door open for a woman. She’s middle aged, blonde, wearing a bright pink blazer and dress pants, and carrying a clip board.
Peter can practically feel the blood draining out of his face.
A social worker. She has to be.
“Hi!” The woman calls to him with a wave. “You must be Peter! My name is Mrs. Casey and I’m with the Office of Children and Family Services. I’m just coming by to check in with you and make sure everything is going okay here.”
She is way too cheery for the moment and her smile is too wide.
Peter thinks he totally stops breathing for a moment. This isn’t a routine visit. Normal visits are on a regular schedule. Rhodey lied to him.
“Uh…where’s Miss Rachel?” Peter stammers out after a moment.
The woman purses her lips. “Miss Rachel wasn’t available today so they sent me instead. Is that okay with you?”
Peter wants to scowl at her condescending tone. She’s speaking to him like he’s a toddler. But, he holds it in. He knows Rhodey called and reported the abuse, so they’re already suspicious. He needs to keep this place around as a back up plan in case things don’t work out with his dad.
He forces a smile onto his face. “Of course. What can I do for you, ma’am?”
She looks at him with an impressed smile, then back to Bill who is standing at attention next to her. “What a polite young man you have here.” She says to Bill, like he’s the one who made Peter this way. It takes everything in his willpower to hold in the eye roll.
“I’m just here for a quick check in.” She continues. “I’ll take a look around the home, ask a few questions. I won’t be too long.”
“Oh, okay.” Peter replies, trying his best to remain calm and collected. “Can I show you around the apartment?”
“Oh, no thank you, dear.” She responds. “I would actually like to speak with you and your foster parents separately, so I’ll let them take me on a quick tour of your home and I’ll meet you in your bedroom. Okay?”
Peter nods his approval and turns around to walk calmly down the hall. As soon as he’s out of their sight, he rushes into his room and shuts the door, putting his back against it and sliding down to the floor. His heart is racing and he feels like he might throw up.
Rhodey lied to him. He can’t believe it. The man promised to give him until Saturday. It’s just two more days! It’s not even a big deal. And now CPS is here and he has to convince them that he’s completely fine so they don’t take him away and he’ll never get to see his dad or Rhodey or Ned or MJ ever again and he’ll have to switch schools away from midtown and this is the first school he’s actually enjoyed in years and he was actually thinking about maybe going to college afterwards like maybe there was a chance he could get in to a good one and have a future and now his entire future is on the line and oh god he’s starting to see black spots in his vision.
Breathe, Peter. Breathe.
He takes a few gasping breaths through his panic and soon enough he’s regained a bit of his composure. He takes a couple minutes to get his breathing back under control.
He’s fine. He can do this. All he has to do is be convincing to this lady and she’ll leave them alone. CPS never wants to do extra work if they can get out of it. He just has to keep that in mind.
The whole house is clean. He knows that because he’s the one that does it. He’s a healthy weight again, and the bruises and belt marks have finally healed after all the food and sleep he got today.
Oh wait, belt marks.
The Pattersons are totally going to kill him after this is over.
He hears a knock on the bedroom door.
He pushes all thoughts of what is going to happen afterwards out of his mind. He needs to get through this visit first, then he can worry about how badly he’s going to be punished for this.
He stands up and straightens up his clothes, not that it really helps the rags that he’s wearing, but it makes him feel better. Then he puts on a neutral expression and opens the door.
“You can come in, ma’am” Peter tells her, gesturing with his hand. “How did you like the apartment?”
“Oh, it’s just lovely.” She says in a false sweet voice. Peter is curious how many pitches higher her social work voice is than her normal voice. It’s got to be a lot. She glances around his room before taking a seat on the edge of his bed since there isn’t any other seating. Peter just takes a seat on the floor in front of her.
She is casually gripping her clipboard in her lap as she looks around his room with suspicious eyes.
“Your room here is awfully…um…plain.” She comments, searching for a nonoffensive term. Peter doesn’t mind. He knows it’s plain.
“Do your foster parents not let you decorate?” She asks.
“I’m sure they would.” Peter replies. No, actually, he’s sure they wouldn’t. “I didn’t want to decorate because I’m used to moving around so much. I got tired of putting things up just to take them down again.” Also true, but it’s the version that sounds better.
She nods understandingly, marking a box on her paper.
“So tell me a little bit about your life here with the Pattersons.” She prompts him. “Do they have reasonable rules, a curfew, do you do any chores?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Peter replies casually. “All their rules are pretty normal I think. I help clean on the weekends and sometimes I help cook dinner during the week. They make sure I go to school and do all my homework.”
Peter is just spewing off random things that sound good. Things he would assume normal families do for their kids.
“Good, good.” The woman mutters to herself, continuously making notes on her clipboard.
“Now, do you feel safe living here? You can tell me the truth. You won’t get in trouble.”
Peter wants to roll his eyes so badly. This is the dumbest shit he’s ever had to do. She’s barely even trying. But whatever, he’ll continue with the lies.
“Yes, ma’am. I haven’t had any problems here. Bill and Diane are taking very good care of me.” He replies, fairly convincingly he thinks.
She takes a few seconds to think on what he’s said before replying hesitantly.
“Now Peter, normally I wouldn’t say anything, especially to your foster family, but we did get an anonymous tip from someone claiming to know you that said you were in physical danger at this residence and have been physically harmed by your foster parents in the last few days. Does any of that have any merit?”
Peter does his best to let some shock bleed out onto his face. “Really? Someone said that?” He asks. “No, ma’am. Bill and Diane would never.” He insists.
“That is so good to hear.” She replies with a smile.
She asks him a few more questions, nothing too complicated, before she gets up to leave. Peter stands as well to open the door for her as she goes.
“Your regular case worker should be in touch to check in again soon, Mr. Parker, but if you need anything before that just let us know.”
She reaches out to shake his hand as she leaves, passing him her business card with her phone number as well.
“I will. Thank you Mrs. Casey.” He says with a smile, shutting his door behind her once she’s a little ways down the hallway.
He finally takes a breath of relief and sinks back down to the floor. He thinks he did a pretty good job convincing her that all was well. Of course he wanted her to believe him, but at the same time that felt way too easy. She just took his word at face value with no evidence. It’s kind of disgusting, and what landed him in this mess in the first place.
He’s going to have to start seriously considering his options now that the visit from the case worker is over. He knows Bill, and he knows the man is going to be furious. He could just stand here and take whatever punishment Bill wants to give him. That’s what he used to do. He used to even egg Bill on and get it worse than he would’ve. But that was the old Peter. This Peter is much wimpier. He doesn’t want to just stand here and get whipped with a belt because he knows he might have another option. His dad would never hit him. Peter knows this. What if-
His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing again. Shit. The lady left, and he’s alone with Bill and Diane.
“PARKER!” The man screams. “I don’t know what you did or who you told that made us get an unscheduled visit, but you’re dead for it!”
Bill appears in his doorway, absolutely fuming. Peter has to use all of his willpower to force himself to stay still as the man storms up to him and grabs a fistful of his hair, standing him up off the bed and shoving him up against the wall. Peter can’t help but let out a yelp at his poor head.
“You fucking no good, rotten little piece of shit! You can’t even do one single thing right can you?” Bill screams right in his face, spewing drops of saliva all over his face. “I don’t even know why we even keep you around at this point! You’re worthless, unlovable. You’re lucky we’re willing to keep you here boy, because this is the best you’ll ever get.”
Peter tries to squirm away, but the grip on his hair just gets tighter and more painful.
Suddenly, he feels fingers wrapping around his neck, slowly constricting his airway.
“I could kill you for what you did to us!” Bill screams at him. “You could’ve gotten us sent to fucking jail, you worthless little maggot!”
As the fingers around his neck get tighter and tighter, Peter feels his windpipe closing until he can’t breathe. He tries to pry Bill’s fingers off his throat, but he’s starting to feel dizzy and black spots are starting to dance around his vision.
Finally, before the world goes completely black, Bill lets go and drops Peter onto the floor, where he starts gasping for air and coughing on his hands and knees.
Before he can even fully catch his breath, black spots still dotting his vision, Bill plants a solid kick to his ribs, knocking him over again. He grabs the collar of Peter’s shirt and pulls him back up against the wall.
“Maybe I will just kill you. It sure would make things easier, wouldn’t it?”
Peter has been hurt very frequently by this man, but he’s never actually feared for his life before this moment. He looks at Bill’s face and can see nothing but hatred in his eyes, and Peter is afraid. He’s desperately afraid.
Bill draws back a fist to punch Peter in the face, but Peter sees it coming even through the black spots in his vision and ducks out of the way, wiggling out of Bill’s grasp on his shirt and stumbling for the door. He doesn’t have time to think. He just reacts. He’s scared and he’s getting out of here.
He can hear Bill chasing after him as he runs as fast as he can through the halls. He plows through Diane when she steps in his way, and sprints straight out the door. He hears Bill screaming behind him.
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life locked in the closet when you comes crawling back!”
He keeps running even after he makes it outside. He’s getting as far from this place as possible. He doesn’t have a whole lot of options. He would go to Ned’s, but he’s on summer vacation with his family. He doesn’t feel like he’s close enough to MJ to come barging into her apartment, especially since she doesn’t know the full story of what’s going on and he doesn’t want to explain it. He doesn’t have any of his things. He left so fast be didn’t think to grab his backpack with all his things off the floor. He’s just lucky he still had his shoes on.
Once he gets far enough away from the apartment that he feels like he can stop and take a breath, he comes to the only conclusion he can make. He knows what he has to do. He turns the direction of downtown and starts walking towards Stark Tower. It’s time he finally told his father the truth. Either the man accepts him and lets him stay, or he has to go face the music with Bill. He only hopes the man would calm down a bit in the time that he’s gone.
By the time he gets to the tower, the sun is pretty much set. He uses the cover of darkness to climb up the tower to the top, where he knows his dad would be. He can’t go in through the front door this late. It’ll look suspicious.
Mr. Stark has to protect him. Peter knows he will. Peter will apologize if he’s still angry and make the man forgive him. He’ll do anything. He thought he could handle things at home, but its gotten so out of hand. He needs his dad.
He gets to the penthouse of the tower and Friday lets him in the first window he comes to. It opens to one of Tony’s many spare bedrooms. Luckily he hasn’t had anyone except Rhodey stay with him the entire time Peter has known him, so he knows he won’t walk, or crawl rather, in on someone. Once he’s inside, he can finally relax. He opens the door and he can hear his dad in the living room talking to someone. As he gets closer, he realizes it’s Natasha that he’s hearing. She must be over for dinner or something tonight. He likes her and trusts her of course, so this is fine by him. Hopefully Mr. Stark will agree to speak with him in private for a minute though so he can apologize for their fight.
He’s about to walk in when he hears his name in the conversation.
“Look, I appreciate the concern, but you have no business in what’s going on with me and the kid. So if you’ll please just leave me alone, I’d appreciate it.” Mr. Stark says, sounding really annoyed. Did Tony tell her that they’re fighting?
“Not happening, Tony.” He hears Natasha say. “I already know there’s no helping you, I’m just here for Peter.”
He hears Tony let out an annoyed huff. “Why do you always feel the need to butt into everyone else’s business, Red? How did you even find out?”
“I’m not butting in of my own accord, although I’m glad I know something is wrong so maybe I can talk some sense into you. Rhodey told me you and the kid were fighting, and I’m here to see it resolved. Peter needs you-“
“Peter doesn’t need me!” His dad exclaims, raising his voice. “Why does everyone keep saying that? He doesn’t need me. In fact, he’ll be much better off without me.”
Natasha scoffs. “You’re so clueless, Stark. For a genius, you’re acting awfully stupid right now. Peter loves you. He looks up at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
“And that’s the problem!” Tony exclaims.
“What even happened to start all this?” Natasha questions. “Why has it become such a problem now? Peter has acted the same way around you that he always has.”
Mr. Stark hesitates before responding.
“I found out that Peter is being abused by his foster family.”
There’s a pause of silence before Peter hears Natasha reply.
“He told you this?” She asks quietly.
“I found the belt marks on his back.” His dad answers. “He tried to lie to me about it, but he told Rhodey the truth.”
“Wow….that’s just….what are we going to do about it?”
“We?” Tony asks her, surprised.
“Yeah, we.” She repeats. “Did you go kick their asses? Get them put in jail? Do we need to go get him?”
“Why is everyone assuming I’m just going to go get him?” Tony asks.
“Back to this again?” Natasha asks, sounding annoyed. “You can’t convince me that you don’t care, Tony. You wouldn’t just leave Peter with people who are hurting him. You freak out if he comes back from patrol with a single bruise.”
“I didn’t go get him because that’s not my job, Red.” He retorts. “I called CPS. They’ll get him moved somewhere safe.”
“You did what?!” Natasha asks in a low voice, sounding very angry.
“I called CPS. The place whose literal job it is to fix this kind of problem.”
“Stark I swear you are either a way bigger asshole than I ever expected or you’re the dumbest man on the planet.” She exclaims furiously. “CPS isn’t going to do any good! Haven’t you ever heard Clint talk about his experiences in foster care as a kid?”
“Of course I have!” Tony exclaims, getting defensive. “That was like 30 something years ago. Things aren’t the same as they were.”
“Oh yeah?” Nat questions. “So you’re telling me that Peter hasn’t been placed in abusive foster homes constantly since the beginning? Because that’s the story I heard. And who placed him with all those families? Who placed him with this one? You think all of a sudden he’s going to end up in the perfect happy nuclear family?”
“What did you want me to do? Go steal him away to live here?” He asks sarcastically.
“Yes!” She yells. “That’s exactly what you should’ve done. Peter is practically your kid already-“
“He’s not my kid!” Mr. Stark yells back. Peter wants to leave, but he can’t make his legs move. He doesn’t want to listen to this anymore.
“I hate how everyone comes waltzing in and demanding I adopt the kid.” His dad continues. “I’m not father material. You should know that already. Stark’s are horrible, bitter, selfish human beings who shouldn’t have kids. That’s just the way things are. Peter needs to find somebody else, because he’s not going to find what he wants here.”
Peter leans against the wall of the hallway, trying his best not to collapse. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything. His dad doesn’t want him. He just said so.
He doesn’t try to prevent it as the tears start welling up in his eyes and rapidly falling down his face. He lets out an involuntary sob before turning around and running away from his dad. He can’t stay here after hearing that. He needs some time to pull himself together.
This was his last chance, and somehow he blew it before it even began.