Chapter 1
“I was once a star, shining bright
You pulled me out of the sky
Stole all my light, why?
Why?”
Uncle Ben has piercing blue eyes that used to make Peter feel safe and loved. They sparkled with life, with wisdom, complementing the goofy smile that always rested upon his face. But now they were dull, empty. The brightness died the day May did. And now Peter doesn’t find comfort in them, he finds hate.
But it’s not like he should find comfort in them anyway. That would be selfish, right? It is his fault that May was dead, and now Ben was forced to care for him alone. He never wanted kids.
And if he wants to grieve by getting drunk and beating his wife’s killer black and blue, who was Peter to stop him?
Because that would be selfish.
But he always had Ned to find comfort in, and that was enough for him. That’s all he needs.
And it seemed that he might be needing him again right now because Ben was mad.
But that was Peter’s fault—everything was Peter’s fault.
Ben noticed that Peter left. He leaves every night for patrol, coming back at around midnight on school nights and three in the morning on weekends. But Ben had never noticed because he was too busy drinking or playing poker—not to mention the fact that he didn’t care enough about Peter to check on him. But he noticed tonight.
Peter could practically see steam leaking from his ears as he climbed into his bedroom from his window. Ben was sitting in the chair at his desk, seeming to have been waiting for him.
It’s a good thing he’d changed from his suit in an alley already, that would have caused a whole other set of problems.
“Where have you been?” Ben asked.
“I—I was…” He didn’t really know what to say. He was out as Spider-Man, but it’s not like he could say that. “I was at… Ned’s house.”
“Why?”
“We have… a partner project. For Chemistry. I didn’t think you would let me go and… and we had to finish it.”
“So you snuck out.”
“I—yes.”
“What was that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you understand that sneaking out is against the rules, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben nodded, rubbing a finger over his chin.
“You know what happens when you break the rules, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben nodded again before standing with a sigh and unbuckling his belt.
“My brother? My sister-in-law? My wife? And now I’m stuck with you and you can’t even listen to the basic rules. It’s like a curse. Used to think it was Parker Luck, but it seems to just be Peter Luck. God, you’re so selfish. You’ve ruined my life. Do you get that?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it.”
He motioned for Peter to turn around and get into position. He swallowed and bit his lip before turning, tugging off his shirt as he did so, and placed his hands above his head onto the wall.
His now exposed back was littered with scars, but that didn’t deter his quietly furious uncle.
He was always the worst when he was quiet. He wished Ben would yell, or throw something.
He hissed and clenched his eyes as the first strike landed on his bare skin.
Ben brought the belt down again. And again. And again.
His back was red and inflamed but he continued, bringing it back onto the places already injured.
Eventually, Peter could feel his skin start to break, beads of blood beginning to escape and then cling to the belt as it landed on top of them.
Ben unfolded the belt, now holding it in the middle, deciding to hit Peter with the buckle.
And Peter couldn’t help it, he cried. Tears streamed down his cheeks and sobs wracked his body, which seemed to only make Ben angrier.
The man grunted. “Turn around.”
Peter whimpered as he straightened his body out. Moving shouldn’t hurt this much. His turn was slow, and Ben was becoming impatient.
He whipped the belt again, and it made contact with his half-turned face. The buckle hit his upper cheek.
He gasped, moving his hand to the wound.
Ben usually never went for the face, for obvious reasons.
And damn, it hurt.
He turned as fast as he could, facing his uncle. They locked eyes for a few seconds, and that was when Peter realized that he caught no scent of alcohol at all.
He had super senses. He could hear his uncle’s heartbeat, hell, he could hear the heartbeats of every person in the entire apartment complex if he focused enough. He could smell the dish soap a stranger used across the street if he wanted to. But no alcohol.
Ben was sober.
Peter closed his eyes again, tears falling from them as he did so.
Ben kicked him, and he fell back into the wall on his damaged back. He then proceeded to punch him in the chest and stomach, and Peter could feel his ribs cracking and breaking.
And then Ben punched him in the side of the head and Peter fell to the floor.
“What are you?”
“Self’sh,” he coughed out in response.
“And?”
“Waste ‘f space.”
“And?”
“Mur’r’r”
“I don’t enjoy doing this, Peter. You do this to yourself. Stop breaking my rules.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben dropped the belt on the floor. “And wipe the blood off of that. Get it back to me by tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben stood there for a moment and then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Peter choked on a sob and then opened his eyes. His vision was blurry with tears and dots danced in his sight.
Was his room moving?
He crawled toward his bed, his movements stiff and painful. Blood was still flowing slowly from his back, staining his pants.
He did ultimately make it to his bed, and he grabbed his backpack from atop it. He opened it and fumbled for his phone.
He closed his eyes again for a moment.
God, he was dizzy. And those black dots weren’t going away.
He opened his eyes again and clicked on his messages, tapping quickly at Ned’s contact (named Chair Guy affectionately).
ned i know youre prob busy or smth and this is stupid but i kinda maybe need some help
He noticed that his hand was shaking as he pressed send.
i think i might pass out if i stand
also i might need stitches im not sure
also i really cant breathe my ribs are fucked
its not healing but thats not very surprising
he was really mad
anyway i totally get it if youre too busy i can fix it on my own
sorry this isnt your problem
say hi to your mom for me and thank her for the sandwich
see you at school on monday
Peter closed his eyes again and let his phone slip from his hand and onto the floor.
Why’d he have to bring Ned into this? Again?
Ben was right. He was selfish.