Captain Hook
“What the fuck is this Peter?” Obadiah said as he waved the half eaten piece of bread in front of Peter’s face.
“I’m sorry!” Peter protested, trying to wrench his arm out of the man’s vice like grip. “I just got so hungry, I’m really sorry! I won’t – I won’t do it again.” Peter tried to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks, but despite his best efforts, he felt them making their salty path down his face, mingling with the blood slowly dribbling out of his split lip.
“After everything I’ve done for you, taking you in when your dad died, feeding you, spending money out of my own pocket, taking time out of my day to put aside for you. You know your dad left you nothing – everything I do, I do out of my own kindness.” Obadiah said calmly, face inching closer to the terrified boy. Peter could almost laugh – Kindness? He thinks this is being kind?
“I’m sorry, I really am. I’ll put it back!” Peter continued to protest, breath hitching as Obadiah’s hand landed on his shoulder.
“Well that would be okay Peter, but I think you’ve already eaten some of it.” Obadiah said as he looked once again at the half eaten bread. Peter looked back up at him, eyes wide in terror. “And that’s not okay behaviour. And you know what happens when your behaviour is not okay, don’t you Peter.”
“I-I get punished…”
“I think you’re missing something there Peter.” Obadiah loomed over the small boy who was now shaking out of fear.
“S-sir.” Peter managed to whisper, tears flowing freely. Obadiah grabbed the back of Peter’s head, flattening his curls, his touch wholly different to the way Tony used to card his fingers through his hair and whisper love into his ear. The memory grew dimmer and dimmer everytime Obadiah looked in his direction. Obadiah grabbed Peter’s chin roughly, forcing the boys mouth open, shoving two meaty fingers into it, pushing further and further until Peter couldn’t help but gag. Obadiah simply wiped away the few escaping tears from the boy’s eyes with his unoccupied hand, lifting them to his lips as he slowly licked the small beads of liquid, all the while continuing to watch the small child writhe and gag with a sadistic smile.
Peter couldn’t hold it anymore, and he threw up what little food remained in his stomach. All this for a piece of bread – it wasn’t Peter’s fault that Obadiah only fed him whatever scraps were left from his own meal and he couldn’t stand the hunger pains anymore.
“Look at that. Disgusting.” Obadiah said as he stared down at the small boy, who was currently coughing violently, eyes transfixed on the small amount of vomit in front of him on the floor. “What do you do now Peter?” The older man asked pointedly, glaring at Peter who had once again started to cry. Peter didn’t even respond as he stood back up, walking towards the door to where he knew Obadiah kept the cleaning supplies. However, before he got there, Obadiah grabbed his hair once again, pushing him forward so his head smashed painfully against the hard wood of the door. Peter, for once, stopped crying, too dazed and shocked as blood began to slowly gush out of his very obviously broken nose, the black eyes he was already sporting already developing into a deeper shade of purple. “Now look. You’ve made an even bigger mess.” Obadiah spat, as he pointing towards the small trail of blood Peter was leaving behind.
“Forget the cleaning. It’s clear you still refuse to learn correct behaviour. The cheek of it – making a mess like that.” Obadiah said, leaving Peter heavily confused. Why was he getting punished for something Obadiah did? The man grabbed his arm once again, only adding to the constant ring of bruises which seemed to reside there, and dragged the small child, who was for once not fighting him, towards a small closet. “Maybe a day or two in here again will make you learn your lesson.”
“No, no, no please!” Peter pleaded, looking fearfully towards the cupboard. “NO! Please!” Peter pleaded again, as Obadiah threw him in the small, dark, damp, locked space with a small chuckle, glee lighting up his features.
“With no distractions, maybe you’ll have time to think about your actions… Bambi.” Obadiah spat the nickname out.
Something in Peter broke. That nickname, that term of love, reserved only for his father, had come out of the mouth of his abuser. The one precious memory Peter had of his father vanished in an instant, and he was left alone, the silence only being broken by his shallow breathing, and stomach grumbling unhappily at the lack of food.
He was alone, in the dark.
He was alone again.
Now he truly knew,
No one was coming to save him.
Peter awoke, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin as he gasped for breath, clawing at his chest in vain. He couldn’t breathe, it was like someone had his lungs in an iron vice, and they were just making it tighter. His lungs burned at the lack of oxygen, and Peter didn’t even realise he had been screaming until May ran into the room, sleep still lingering on her features.
“Peter, Pete baby you gotta breathe okay? Breathe for me?” May said, sitting on the end of Peter’s bed, careful not to touch him.
Peter’s eyes widened in panic as he tried to claw the blankets from his body. “He’s gonna, he’s coming – May he is gonna put me back there! We gotta go before he finds me…” Peter said, his entire body vibrating with fear. He knew he wasn’t in real danger – if he was, his spider sense would have alerted him to the threat. But there was no odd feeling, no tingling at the base of his neck, just a dull sort of ache which came with the lack of oxygen.
“Peter, no one is here. It’s just you and me baby, don’t worry. Pete you’ve really gotta breathe.” May said, trying not to let her panic show in her voice. “It was just a nightmare sweetie, I promise you you’re okay.”
Peter’s breathing began to level slightly, but the fear still lingered in his eyes. “He isn’t here?” Peter asked hopefully, trying to blink back the tears in his eyes.
“No sweetheart, he isn’t. Can I touch you Pete?” May asked softly. Peter nodded his head slightly, letting himself relax into his Aunt’s side. May stroked his soft curls and the two sat there for 10 minutes, basking in the calming influence each other.
“I want Uncle Ben.” Peter mumbled out, pretending not to notice how May’s breath hitched when he said his name.
“I know Sweetie, I know.” May muttered back, sitting Peter up and looking at him in the eye. “You know I larb you right?” May asked, with a slight glint in her eye.
Peter chuckled slightly, looking back at her with a fierce gaze. “I larb you more.”
“You gonna be okay now?”
“Yeah, yeah I feel much better. Thanks May.” Peter said, lying back down on the bottom bunk that he had collapsed onto hours earlier after patrol. Peter’s eyes suddenly flew wide open again – He had forgotten to tell Mr Stark what had happened on patrol! As soon as May quietly shuffled out of the room, he reached for his phone, groaning as the offensive light hit his eyes, pulled up the contact for Happy, and began to type.
Peter: Kinda quiet tonight boss – not much happened. Stopped a grand theft bicycle, helped an old lady cross the road, stopped a mugging, kinda got stabbed but it’s okay now – not serious or anything.
Peter: I think I’m ready for more now – just text me when the next mission comes up#
Peter: Sorry it’s late, you’re probably asleep…
Peter: Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow after patrol – Remember to text me if anything comes up!
Peter: This is Peter BTW. Peter Parker
Peter: Sorry I’m being annoying I will actually leave you alone now :)
Mr. Stark: Kid – we need to talk. Come by the tower on Thursday.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You have to be kidding me.” Happy groaned as he reached over to his bedside table, grabbing the buzzing phone and blinking at the intrusive light it provided. After a quick scroll though the millions of messages from one Peter Parker, Happy made up his mind. Closing down Peter’s messages and pressing the number he had on speed dial, Happy waited until Tony picked up.
“Happy? What are you doing up?” Tony asked, silently cursing under his breath as he spilled a small amount of coffee on his faded Black Sabbath T shirt.
“Could say the same to you Boss.” Happy sparked back, trying to get to his point. “Look it’s about the kid.”
“What’s wrong? Is he okay? I haven’t got any updates from the suit? Shit is he okay?” Tony asked in rapid fire, coffee now forgotten on the worktop.
“Tony chill the kid is fine – although you wouldn’t guess it with the amount of texts he blew my phone up with.”
“Okayyyy so why are you calling?” Tony asked, his heart rate beginning to return to its normal pace.
“This isn’t my job and you know it Tony. I don’t wanna be his babysitter anymore. I’m changing his contact to your phone so he can finally leave me alone.” Happy said in an annoyed tone, the perfect juxtaposition to his name.
Tony sighed and rested his forehead against his palm, ignoring the motor oil now smudged on his face. “Okay, fine. I’ll have them sent through FRIDAY. I’m sorry Happy I know it’s a lot to ask from you, but I’ve just gotta make sure he is safe. What if something happens to him? I’d never forgive myself – I still haven’t forgiven myself. Not like my father my ass.” Tony muttered.
“Look Tony there is something else.” Happy said, sleep evident in his voice. Tony waited with baited breath as Happy tried to figure out the best way to break the major news. “The kid, he um, he… well he knows, Tony.”
“Knows what? You gotta be a little more specific there buddy.” Tony said sarcastically.
“He knows you’re his dad.” Happy bluntly said. There was a long stretch of silence before Tony finally answered.
“Give me the number. I gotta go.” Tony said abruptly before ending the call. A small ping signalled to Tony that Happy had forwarded the messages from Peter, and without thinking Tony quickly typed a reply.
Tony: Kid – we need to talk. Come by the tower on Thursday.
Tony collapsed onto his chair, placing his phone face down on the worktop and running his hands through his hair and over his face. How did he find out? How could he have known? The doctors had called it voluntary Amnesia – Peter had subconsciously chosen to block out all his painful memories of his childhood, and that included his life with Tony. Though loosing Peter was the hardest thing Tony had ever done, he knew May had been right. He had failed him, failed his Bambi, and though May had to drag Peter kicking and screaming away from Tony, he knew that he had messed that child up 5000 times more than Howard ever could.
Tony really was a Stark after all.