Peter
Peter leaves the tower feeling more upset than he has probably since his aunt and uncle died. He walks aimlessly for a few blocks until he finds an empty alleyway to collapse in and just cry horrible, hitching sobs. His dad, the only adult Peter thought he could count on, didn’t want him. He doesn’t even know why he’s surprised. People have been telling him for years the same thing, that he’s worthless, unlovable, and that no one would ever want him around.
Things with his dad were different though. He really thought the man cared about him, clearly not enough to want to keep him around permanently though.
This is exactly what he was afraid of when he decided to give things with his dad a chance. He got attached, and it blew up in his face. And this time, it was entirely his fault. He should’ve known not to let himself get soft. He had rules. Don’t get attached, don’t trust anyone, and you can’t be disappointed with the inevitable end.
After a long while of sitting on the ground alone, Peter runs out of tears and energy to keep crying. He scrubs off his face with his shirt, gets up off the ground, and decides to pull himself together. His dad doesn’t want him, and that sucks, it really fucking sucks, but he’s gotten through worse and he’ll get through this.
First, he needs to figure out what he’s going to do. He can’t stay with the Pattersons anymore. He’s been planning on that being plan B this whole time, but Bill has taken things too far. Peter thinks he might’ve actually been trying to kill him earlier. His standards for a living situation aren’t high, but they definitely still include living.
He starts walking while he thinks. Step one is getting all his things from the apartment. It shouldn’t be too hard to sneak back into his room to grab his backpack and sneak back out. But what then?
Ned is on vacation. He could try MJ. He really didn’t want to drag her into all this, but at this point it’s kind of the best option. They’ve been getting closer recently. He’s sure she’ll forgive him for this. If she can’t help him, he could call Rhodey. The man said he’d help Peter if he needed it. Despite how upset he is with his dad, he knows how important Rhodey is to him. Peter really didn’t want to steal the man’s best friend away from him or cause any fights, so he’ll keep him as a last resort.
He gets back to the apartment pretty late at night. At least, he thinks. He doesn’t have anything on him that can tell time, but he’ll have his phone soon enough. Since it’s dark, he risks climbing up the side of the building without his suit to get to his window. He slides it open like he always does and slips inside quietly.
All the lights are off and the door is closed. He feels around in the dark for a couple minutes as quietly as possible, searching for his backpack, but he can’t find it. He takes a risk and flips the light switch on, and his backpack isn’t sitting on the floor where he left it.
This is really not good.
He searches around his room just in case it got shoved under something in the chaos. He even looks in his dresser drawers just in case they shoved it in there to get it out of the way. It’s no where.
Fuck. This is so bad. Everything he owns is in that backpack.
He doesn’t want to panic just yet, so he turns the light off and slowly opens the bedroom door, mindful of the creaking. He slips down the hallway silently, but he still can’t see anything with the rooms this dark. He has to risk it. He gets to the living room and turns on a lamp with a small click. There’s still no sign of his backpack. He’ll have to leave and come back while Bill and Diane are working so he can search more.
“Looking for this?” A voice calls from the hallway. Peter’s stomach drops down into his feet. He turns around reluctantly to see Bill standing in the hallway to the bedrooms holding Peter’s backpack by the handle.
Peter hardens his expression. “I’m not staying here anymore.” He says, trying to sound stern. “Just give me the backpack and I’ll go. You can keep telling my case workers that I’m here so you can get your money.”
Bill just smirks, pissing Peter off.
“You’re not going anywhere, Peter. Or should I say Spider-Man?”
Peter’s eyes widen in horror as Bill reaches into the backpack and pulls out his suit, dropping it onto the floor in a pile.
“That’s right, Petey.” Bill says cruelly with a smile. “You’re always so protective of this backpack and I’ve never wondered why. When you ran out without it, I figured it was the perfect opportunity to see what you were hiding. And as it turns out, it’s a lot.”
He reaches back in the pack and starts pulling out everything Peter has been hiding, dropping it on the floor with the suit carelessly.
“I found your costume that I’m sure Stark made for you, your secret phone that he gave you, your secret credit card that he pays for. You’ve really been holding out on me, Parker. You want to explain why a man like Tony Stark would waste any time or money on a stupid piece of shit teenager like you?”
Peter clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t have anything to say. He’s out of words. Bill knows everything.
“I bet you went to see him when you ran off, didn’t you? Why didn’t you stay there? He didn’t want you either?”
“Shut up!” Peter exclaims, overcome with anger at the comments. He thought he was out of tears, but there are a few stubborn ones trying to form again.
“Now that’s not how you should speak to the person who has access to your secret identity, is it now?”
Peter’s whole body is tense and he can feel his adrenaline rushing. He wants to run so badly, but he can’t without his things or with Bill threatening his secret identity like this.
“Sorry sir.” He manages to get out through clenched teeth. “What do I have to do for you to keep this to yourself?”
Bill appears to be thinking for a moment. “Well, first of all, you can man up and take the punishment you deserve for what you did yesterday. Then we’ll see.”
Peter steels himself. He’s going to have to just take it. Maybe afterwards, Bill will let his guard down enough for Peter to get his things and slip away. He doesn’t have any proof that Peter is Spider-Man, right?
“Fine.” Peter spits out. “What’s my punishment?”
“Shirt off and up against the wall.” Bill commands, dropping Peter’s backpack with the rest of his things and beginning to take off his belt.
Peter expected this much. He can handle the belt one more time. After this, he’s going to find a way out. He will. He obediently pulls off his shirt and tosses it on his pile of things, hoping to keep them together for when he retrieves them.
The first few hits, Peter barely even feels. After a few, when Bill starts going after the same spots he had already hit, that’s when Peter actually snaps back to reality and starts screaming. He stops holding back and just lets the tears fall as Bill whips him.
After a few more hits, Bill suddenly stops. Peter glances up at him over his shoulder. His back is on fire, and he can feel what he assumes is blood dripping down, but as bad as it already is, he expects much worse by the time Bill is finished.
Then he hears Bill bark another order. “Pants too. Now.”
Peter’s eyes widen. Bill had never asked him to take off any more than his shirt before. All the other foster parents that tried to make him strip, he had left immediately before anything could happen. Like he said before, he doesn’t have high standards, but that crosses the line.
“Take your damn pants off now before I make this even worse for you boy. I’ll call the fucking news station in the morning if that’s what you want.”
Is keeping his secret worth this? How far is he planning on going to placate the man?
He hesitantly sheds out of his jeans so he’s just in his boxer briefs, and Bill gestures for him to get back up against the wall.
When he’s back in position, Bill resumes with the beating. He stumbles as soon as Bill gets the first hit on the back of his thigh.
“Fuck!” Peter screams, almost falling to the ground, but he plants his hands on the wall and tries his best to keep going. He’s desperate. He needs to keep Spider-Man a secret.
It only takes a few more hit before Peter completely collapses from the pain. Bill throws the belt to the ground and stomps up to him. He pulls his leg back and plants a solid kick to Peter’s ribs, knocking him completely to the ground.
“I can’t believe a wimpy little shithead like you is Spider-Man.” Bill laughs at him from above. “You’re a no good, selfish, stupid, worthless kid.”
He punctuates every point with another punch or kick to some part of Peter’s body. Even if Peter could fight back, he doesn’t know that he would. Maybe Bill is right. Nobody does want him. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he is just unlovable. He’s been messing up a lot lately. He probably deserves what he’s getting.
He feels like he’s on the verge of passing out, and he welcomes it, but before he can, he feels Bill’s fingers grab onto a section of his hair and pull hard.
Peter yelps and tries to pry the man’s fingers off him, but he doesn’t feel like he has any control of his body. Bill drags him towards the closet by his head, Peter doing his best to stumble behind him.
“You’re staying here with me until I find someone who’ll take you off my hands. I’m sure Spider-Man has some enemies that will pay big money for the chance to have you to themselves for a while, don’t you think?”
The man opens the closet door and shoves Peter down to the ground. He slams his head hard against the floor and everything finally goes black.
The next time he comes to, everything is dark. He must still be locked in the closet, but he has no idea how much time has gone by. It must still be night since there’s no light coming in through the crack under the door, but Peter doesn’t even know if it’s the same day or days later. His hands are cuffed to a pipe against the wall of the closet, and there’s something shoved in his mouth, gagging him, that he can’t get out. His movement is restricted from the cuffs, but he’s whole body is in so much pain that he doesn’t think he’d be able to move if he wanted to. He tries his best to curl up in the fetal position, but his torso hurts too badly.
Everything smells like urine. He must’ve soiled himself when he passed out. That doesn’t happen very often. He must’ve really been out of it. He’s pretty disgusted with himself. This is what Spider-Man has come to. He supposed to be a hero, and instead he’s laying here mostly naked in his own piss.
He doesn’t cry. He can’t. He feels like all the emotion has been drained out of him. He’s grateful he’s not laying on his back because it feels like it’s on fire.
He wishes he had a little bit of light so he could see how bad everything looked, but it isn’t that important. Anything that happened to him the last few days, he had brought on himself. He deserved this. Now he’s stuck here waiting on his fate. He isn’t awake for too much longer before his consciousness is dragged back under.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Peter has been trapped in this fucking closet for who knows how many days. He’s been drifting in and out. He knows he’s in pretty bad shape. He can’t remember the last time he ate, and the energy his metabolism is demanding to try to heal some of his injuries is completely draining him to the point where he can barely stay awake, let alone break himself out. He should have never come back. He should’ve just left Spider-Man behind and run as far away from New York as possible. This city has brought him nothing but pain in years. He doesn’t know anymore if he was going to make it out of this or not.
He wakes up once more to a knocking at the front door. Must be another one of the Patterson’s friends over for dinner or something. Maybe a neighbor coming to complain about Peter screaming in pain the other night. Peter tries to tune it out at first, but he can tell Bill isn’t happy with whoever was there. He perks up a little bit at Bill’s distressed voice and strains to hear. He almost doesn’t believe it when he recognizes his dad’s voice, but it has to be him.
What is he doing here? Does he know what’s going on? Did Rhodey tell him when he didn’t show up Saturday morning? Maybe he’s just coming by to tell Peter that he’s cutting him off and never wants to see him again?
Either way, he can’t stay in the closet for one more day, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever build up enough strength to break out on his own like this. Even if his dad hates him, he could at least let him out of this infernal room. He owes Peter that much. He’s not waiting around the be sold off to the highest bidder any more. He does the only thing he can, and scoots himself down as far as he can towards the door. He’s laying prone with his hands reaching above his head to wrap around the pipe, but he feels his feet hit the door. He pulls back a leg and kicks the door as hard as he can manage.