The Web Heads

As the familiar door bell to the Deli jingled, Flash felt a little more at ease the second day in Parker’s neighborhood. Maybe he was too quick to judge, after all, things weren’t so bad here. 

The huge orange cat laying on the counter started to purr when Peter rubbed his hand over his head. Flash scrunched his face in disgust. So the cat on the Deli counter was still unsanitary in his mind, but at least he didn’t almost get hit by a car today.

Peter walked over and bumped his shoulder, “I’m surprised you wanted to ride the subway again. I thought for sure after yesterday you would drive.”

Flash shrugged. “Ah, I wanted to try the Deli sandwich thing.”

“Really?” The way Peter was looking at him, with a mix of surprise and amusement, irritated Flash to no ends. 

“Shut up, Parker. Don’t make me regret this.”

Peter chuckled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But after you claimed how unsanitary Mr. Delmar’s Deli was, I thought you would never want to try a sandwich here.”

“Yeah well, if I get Rabies because of that cat, I’m blaming you.”

Peter shook his head, giving him a small shove in the direction of the counter. Flash made sure he gave Parker a good long glare before turning his attention to Mr. Delmar. 

“Oh, you again.” The man muttered, then in Spanish, he said to Peter, “¿Què hace este idiota aquì atràs?”

“Dale otra oportunidad.”

“Wow, very good, Mr. Parker. You’re Spanish is improving.”

“Thank you.”

Flash turned towards Peter, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning in to his ear. “What did he say?” He whispered.

“I told him to give you another chance.” Peter whispered before pulling away. 

Flash narrowed his eyes. “Another chance? Why because I said he was violating health policies last time? Well I’m sorry, but having a cat -“

“He’ll take a number eight.” Peter interrupted. 

“Want me to add pickles and smoosh it down for him too?”

“No.” Flash said, “I don’t like pickles, or anchovies, or any green thing. In fact, if it has lettuce I think you should take that off.”

Mr. Delmar rolled his eyes, and grabbed Peter’s packets of sour patch kids. “Anything else for you today, kid.”

“No thanks.”

“Very cheap, only 75 cents.”

Peter pulled out his wallet and grabbed a bunch of coins out of the back compartment. He was sliding quite a few nickels and pennies over the counter. Counting them out as he went. “There you go.” 

It never crossed Flash’s mind how living without much money could affect someone. But watching Peter struggle to find change to pay for a bag of sour patch kids really put it in perspective for him. 

If it were Flash paying, he would probably just throw down his credit card that he shares with his mother. That’s what he is going to do for the sandwich. But it appeared as though Peter didn’t have that luxury. 

Yesterday, Liz paid for the whole group, and it’s slowly dawning on Flash that she might have saved Peter a lot of money by doing so.

“Hey Parker?” He asked as they started walking down the street, nibbling on their food as they went to meet Liz, MJ, and Ned in her car, on 5th street. “Do you have a shared credit card with your aunt?”

“Oh, no.” Peter grinned, tilting his face towards the sun in the sky. Flash wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “I don’t even have a bank account. My Uncle was going to take me to get one set-up on my sixteenth birthday but -“ 

“Yeah, I get it.” Flash said quickly, not wanting Peter to dwell in bad thoughts. He still couldn’t believe Peter’s uncle was dead. It was something Flash never knew. He knew about Peter’s parents being dead. He supposed it’s because he knew Peter lived with his aunt and uncle and most people generally lived with their parents unless they weren’t able too. Therefore, it seemed obvious that Peter’s parents had died at some point. But he didn’t know Peter was only six, and he didn’t know Peter’s uncle died too. 

“So I guess you get paid with cash then?” Flash said, looking at his cat-infested sandwich with disgust. 

“What?”

“At the stark internship? He must pay you in cash if you don’t have a bank account.”

“Oh... oh yeah. He does.” Peter mumbled, popping a sour-patch kid in his mouth. 

“You’re a shit liar.” Flash said, as he wrapped the sandwich back up. “I bet you don’t really have a Stark internship, do you?”

“I do.” Peter declared boldly, “it’s just... an unpaid internship.”

“That sucks.” Flash shook his head. “You work so hard, and the guy is a billionaire, you would think the least he could do is pay you.”

Peter shrugged again, not very talkative on the topic. “Are you gonna eat your sandwich? It’s really good, trust me.”

Flash sucked in a breath. “Trust you,” he muttered while unwrapping his sandwich and sticking it between his lips, “I hardly know you - holy shit. This is amazing.”

Peter shrugged. “I wouldn’t lie.”

Flash smiled at him. For the next few minutes they walked in comfortable silence, with the exception of Flash’s chewing. Then, when curiosity got the best of him, Flash asked, “Do you like learning Spanish? You’re pretty damn good at it.”

Peter’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Thanks. I’m trying to become fluent. Uncle Ben said school is important, but only if you can utilize the skills you learned. See, I used to memorize history exam facts and I would ace my tests, but then two days later when Uncle Ben would ask me something about history, I had already forgotten it. He said that was no good, you know?” 

Flash felt like he was being personally attacked. “Well that’s my entire schooling, just memorization and forgetting. So thanks a lot.”

“No, no. Listen, he also said, it’s okay to do that with some subjects that aren’t as important. But when you find what your truly interested in, once you do, then commit that to memory and develop that skill. For me, that’s Spanish. I really want to become fluent, maybe even go to Spain someday. But for you, I think it‘s science. You really have skills when it comes to testing chemicals.”

Flash snorted. Listen to Parker try and cheer him up. It was weird as hell. 

“Yeah well, I better be good at science. My mother is a scientist.”

“Hey, just because your mother is a scientists doesn’t mean you have to be.”

“Try telling that to my Dad. He doesn’t want me to be a scientist, but he wants me to be exactly like him.”

“Oh. But that’s not fair. You’re not him.”

“Oh trust me I know. I’m about as similar to my father as ice is to fire.”

Before Peter could say anything else there was a loud honking coming from Liz’s car. Ned leaned out the passenger window and ushered them to hurry up.

Flash and Peter didn’t waste any time, feet slapping the asphalt as they ran to get inside Liz’s vehicle.

“Come on! Come on!” Liz shouted with an excited squeal. “We have so much work to do, omg.”

“So get this, you know those Spider-Man masks we were designing for security purposes? Well check it out!” MJ handed them the finished product and wow did it look amazing.

“Holy crap! This is awesome.” Flash said, putting his on immediately. “Do I look like Spider-Man?”

“Oh definitely.” Ned agreed. His mask was on too.

“Okay, so we were thinking about having glow sticks during the rally.” Liz said from the front seat. “What do you guys think?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Peter agreed.

“But let’s be sensible,” MJ added, “How are we going to get over a hundred glow sticks by tomorrow?”

“I’ll go out to the party store tonight.” Liz shrugged, “it’s not a problem. What is a problem, however, is my speech! Guys I need help!”

“Okay, calm down, we can look it over for you.” 

She sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

The ride to Peter’s apartment was so much shorter than the walk they took yesterday. Liz driving her car was definitely a smart choice. 

“May! I’m home.” Peter shouted as he entered his apartment in a rush, tossing his shoes on the rug and slipping into the kitchen. 

Flash and the rest of the Web Heads waited awkwardly by the door, unsure if they were allowed to enter or not.

When Peter returned, his face was pinched. “That’s weird, she’s not home. She must be out with... hey you guys can come in. Come on.”

Nodding, the four teens walked furthered into his apartment, going directly to the bedroom they spent all day in yesterday, before disposing their backpacks on his floor. 

“Thanks again, Peter, for letting us work here. I owe you big time.” Liz said, grabbing his hand into her own, and caressing his palm. 

“Oh...uh... you’re welcome.” He stuttered, blushing like a madman.

MJ cleared her throat. “Can we read your speech yet?”

“Oh yeah!” The senior girl dropped Peter’s hand and rushed over to her backpack. Flash smirked when he saw the smug expression on MJ’s face. Oh yeah, she was whipped for Peter.

This was gold, and normally Flash would tease them both relentlessly about it, but that was before he got to know them. Besides, both Peter and MJ could tease him about his father, but they didn’t. So he decided he wouldn’t mess with them either.

Not too much at least...

“So what did you think? Be honest? Was it too short? Too long?” 

Liz’s speech was good, but a little scripted. Flash didn’t know how to tell her without hurting her feelings.

“I liked it.” Ned said with his mouth full of Doritos. 

“Yeah, it was... promising.” MJ said. “Did you actually mean what you were saying?”

“Yes of course I did.”

“Oh, well, you might want to convey that better.”

“I think what MJ is trying to say, is that, your speech sounds rehearsed.” Flash explained, leaning back in Peter’s desk chair, while the rest of the Web Heads were sitting on the floor.

“That’s because it is rehearsed.”

“Yeah but - there’s no heart behind it.”

“Heart? You’re kidding, right?”

Flash slouched forward and twiddled his thumbs, “You talk a lot about your own accomplishments...”

“That’s what the members of the homecoming court do.”

“Yeah, but I think maybe instead of reading word-for-word from your flash cards, maybe you should speak directly from your heart. You know, say exactly how you feel.”

Liz paused for a long moment then looked around the room. “Anyone else?”

Peter shrugged. “I think Flash has some good advice.”

“Peter! You of all people should know how difficult it is to just ‘speak from the heart.’ If I say anything that isn’t rehearsed it will be butchered and I’ll sound like a complete fool.”

“Sounds like you’ll be taking a risk.” Flash commented.

“Exactly. A risk I don’t need to take.”

“Only those who risk to go too far can find out how far it is possible to go.”

“Did you just quote T.S. Eliot?” Peter asked, to which Flash shrugged. 

“Hey, I read... sometimes.”

“Maybe that’s your skill? Poetry?”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.” Flash muttered. 

“What’s wrong with poetry?” MJ crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not for guys like me, okay?”

“Oh so it’s not for big macho football players?” Liz huffed, “Well, I hate to break it to you, Flash, but I’ve seen a lot of TED talks from guy poets and some of them used to play football.”

Flash rolled his eyes. “We’re getting off subject. The point is, you should take a risk, Liz, and speak from your heart. That’s my advice for you. But hey, do whatever you want, it’s your campaign.”

Liz looked up at Flash with a big grin. “Thanks for the advice. I do appreciate it.”

She stood and then collapsed on Peter’s bed, hugging one of his pillows. “Do you think we should go over the plan for food one more time?”

“I think we got it covered. Peter will bring the sandwiches from the Deli and a whole bunch of soda, Liz will bring snacks like chips and dip. That should be good.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

The door clicked. “Hey Peter, are you getting ready -“

A tall man, with a nice slender face, and lots of stubble, froze in the middle of Peter’s doorway. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” He said, with a very relaxed tone. “What have you been up to?” He pulled his lips into a tight smile which sent shivers down Flash’s spine. 

“Nothing!” Peter blurted out like his life was on the line. When Flash turned to him, he could see how red Peter’s face was, and how shaken he seemed. Whoever this person was, Peter didn’t seem to like him too much. 

“I mean, we’re just working on school stuff.” Peter stuttered, shifting around on the floor. 

Liz nodded along with Ned. 

“Oh,” The man’s face twisted into a grimace. “I’ll leave you alone, then.” He quietly closed the door and Peter stood up on shaky legs. 

“Are you okay, Peter?” Liz asked, getting up off of his bed. 

“I don’t feel so good.”

Liz frowned, worriedly. “Here, why don’t you lay down.”

“Do you think it’s something you ate?” MJ asked. 

“I told you!” Flash snapped his fingers, “I told you that sandwich was cat-infested.”

“I didn’t eat a Deli sandwich today, genius.”

“Okay. You know what, Parker? You’re lucky you feel sick, because if you didn’t I would totally kick your ass right now.”

“Oh shut up, Eugene.” MJ snapped.

“You shut up, Michelle.”

“Both of you, shut up.” Ned yelled, “We have to go over the plan one more time and smooth out any last minute issues.”

“Okay, let’s take it from the top.” The group spent the next three hours together, talking about everything from the plan, to their favorite movies, to their favorite YouTube videos. 

They were currently exchanging favorite videos, taking turns showing each other on Ned’s laptop. Peter had felt better after ten minutes of lying down, and he was right back into the party spirit after a funny dog video. 

They grabbed left-over chocolate cake from Peter’s refrigerator and were currently eating that while listening to Ned’s long ass speech on the history of Star Wars. 

“When you have a dream like that, you just gotta go for it. It worked with George Lucas. It can work with any of us.”

“You really think so?” Liz asked, scraping her fork against her plate. 

“Yup! We all have the opportunity to achieve something great in this world if we follow our dreams.”

“Wow Ned, you should give a TED talk, you’re very inspiring.”

Peter laughed, “Yeah and call it a NED talk in all caps.”

“How did TED talks get their name? Does it stand for something?”

“Yeah, Technology, Entertainment and Design.” Liz explained, “Speaking of which, you guys have to see this one.”

Before long, the sun set low in the sky, and it was suddenly dark outside. Flash noticed his watch said 8:15 and he quickly jumped out of his chair. 

“I hate to call it a night, but I have to get home soon or I’ll be taking the subway home really really late.”

“Oh no, I can drive you.” Liz said, “Don’t worry about it, rich boy.”

Flash crossed his arms, but shot her an kind smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Everyone knows the plan, right?”

The Web Heads nodded and put their hands together. “One, two three, Web Heads!”

Peter swung his legs inside his bedroom window, yawning into his shoulder, his eyelids heavy. It was just after midnight that Sunday night. As soon as his friends left, Peter went out patrolling the city as Spider-Man and it was fantastic. 

He should have been asleep long ago, but he was too excited with the Web Heads plan tomorrow. It was going to be amazing to have this rally for Liz. She deserved it. She really did. 

Peter was just slipping his checkered blue pajamas pants on when his door creaked open. The hairs on his arm spiked, and Peter knew without looking that it was Beck who entered his room. He was getting a Spidey tingle every time Beck was near him these days. Mostly because all Beck ever did was harm him. But tonight, his Spidey sense was skyrocketing with impending doom. It didn’t feel good at all.

“Wanna tell me what the hell you were doing earlier with all of your friends earlier?”

Peter watched through squinted eyes as Beck unbuttoned and meticulously rolled up the sleeves to his flannel shirt. 

“I already told you, we were doing school stuff, it was nothing.” 

Beck nodded slowly as he stepped further into the room. “You got some nerve letting them stay in your room.”

Peter scoffed. He didn’t catch himself before Beck turned to look at him. 

“What? You got something to say?” Beck asked, voice dangerously low.

“I’m... I’m allowed to have my friends over. You can’t tell me -“

“But I can!” Beck snapped, effectively shutting Peter up. “See, I need to know that when I want to hang out with you, you’ll be ready. I can’t have your little friends in the way.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, kid. If you ever have friends over here again, I’m going to make this feel like a love-tap. Get your ass over that chair.”

Beck reached the desk table, pulled out a chair from under it, and pointed. Peter’s stomach knotted as he watched Beck unbuckle his belt, slipping it through the loops of his pants. Oh no. Oh no no no.

“I’m not - you can’t! - this isn’t fair. We were just hanging out.”

“I don’t want to punish you at all, Peter. But I need to make sure you remember. What you did today was very bad.”

Peter set his jaw, blood beating through the vein in his temple. This wasn’t fair. He was not going to listen this time. He was so done with Beck’s bullshit. 

“You have until the count of three to get your sorry ass over here, or you’re not going to like the consequences.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Peter growled, “And you can’t keep treating me like this.”

“Wow, I‘ve given you a break for two days and this is the thanks I get. I can see that obviously you need a serious reminder of who is in charge around here.”

“You disgusting creep! I hate you!” Peter shrieked as Beck moved towards him like a cheetah attacking it’s pretty. 

It was too much. Too much!

Beck grabbed his arm and twisted it, forcing Peter to spin around. The boy rose on his tip-toes, back arching as he struggled to remain upright. 

“Get off of me!” Peter yelled, fighting to free his wrist as he latched his foot back and kicked. Beck cried in agony as a wave of pain radiated from his kneecap. In one swift motion, he swept Peter’s feet out from under him, sending him tumbling towards the table. 

It was a messy tackle, roughly executed and the kid went down hard, his cheek colliding with the table top, the sharp snap of bone on wood clearly auditable. That was going to leave a bruise, they both knew it.

Beck had his fingers wrapped around Peter’s left arm so tight, Peter thought for sure it would fall off. And then Beck whipped forward and the belt smacked down on Peter and he screamed. 

He didn’t even know if it hurt yet, but he knew it was loud, and scary, and Beck was doing this to hurt him. Beck was mean, and evil and God, Peter hated him. He hated him.

Another crack of the belt and the world narrowed down to the stinging pain in his butt. Peter shouted again, blood rushing to his ears, his face flushed.

Without warning, Beck yanked him back up off the desk by the back of his hair. “Now get over the chair like I damn well told you to the first time! And bare your ass.”

Peter glared hard. He thought about fighting further, but he knew Beck wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. So Peter pushed his pants down with his boxers and bent over the creaky old chair beside his dresser. Beck pushed up the back of his shirt to fully expose his backside and then tapped the double piece of leather over the exposed skin. 

Peter yelped sharply when it snapped down, leaving a dark steak over his upper-thighs. The belt landed with a heavy whack, and Peter lurched forward to clutch the chair seat with a gasp. The strikes were coming so fast he barely had time to catch his breath between each blow. Peter clenched his jaw and tried to keep still as the leather scorched his hide. He bit his sleeve to keep quiet, feeling nothing but pain for the next few seconds. 

“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again.” Beck’s voice was tight and gruff, but he released his hold on Peter, and took a step back. 

Peter straightened slowly, cautiously. As if he expected Beck to start in on him again. He drew up his pants and turned around to face Beck. The older man winced at the red mark just below his eye, tracing across the top of his cheekbone. 

“Peter,” he said gently, reaching out to settle his hand on the boy’s shoulder, but Peter ducked away from his grip, standing just out of Beck’s reach, eyes bright with unshed tears. He was waiting to be dismissed.

Beck scrubbed a hand over his face. “Go on to bed,” he ordered and Peter relaxed, sagging his shoulders like a broken puppet.

The boy cringed past Beck, cowering his head like a whipped pup and folded back the covers to his bed. 

Beck grabbed his whiskey bottle that he left on Peter’s dresser and escaped into the other room, leaving Peter alone to wallow.

Peter lowered himself into bed, and cringed, having to flip over and lie on his stomach. He settled onto his pillow, with his head facing away from his door. He laid there for a long time staring at the moon outside his window, struggling to catch his breath. 

This was his life now. Fuck Beck for telling him he couldn’t have friends over. That was one rule Peter was never going to follow. Even if it meant he had to get beat every night. 

Peter grimaced as he tried to get comfortable, shifting every so often. It was bad enough he came home late on a school night, but now, with this new lingering pain, he was never going to get any sleep, and he had a big day tomorrow. His friends needed him. 

Reaching for his phone that was sitting on his bedside table, Peter made sure the alarm was set, and decided to make a back-up for his back-up, just in case. Once he was sure he would get up tomorrow, he let his eyes flutter closed.