Casualty of the Darkness

Peter dangled his feet haphazardly off of the examination table he was perched on. He raised his legs straight out into the air in front of his face, wiggling his sockless toes and trying to focus on anything but the weight of his own body on the table. But it was hard to focus elsewhere, when the cool metal of the table caused goosebumps to break across the bare skin of his lower legs and thighs and his teeth chattered in the cool temperature.

The boy desperately wanted to be wearing a giant sweater at this moment. Or to curl up under a mound of blankets, wearing fuzzy socks and drinking warm tea. The room was freezing, it felt like if he was exhaling little icy clouds of air every few seconds. His chilly hands pulled and pushed at the fabric of the short black gym shorts he was wearing, and at the bottom of the faded green t shirt adorning his skinny frame.  

The attire was not ideal by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren’t a disaster either. When Mr. Stark had first dragged the boy back down to the medical bay, he had pushed a sterile white hospital gown into his hands. The man explained that he should change into the gown while he waited for his friend to await at the tower. However, the boy adamantly refused to change (hence the clothing he was now wearing). Regardless of the fact that Mr. Stark had seen him naked mere minutes before, something about the robe made him panic. He hated the thought of being so naked, so exposed. Anyone could easily rip open the robe and add to the dozens of bruises and cuts marking his pale flesh. The fact that an unidentified person was going to be there as well, made it even worse. Peter did not want to be vulnerable in front of anyone, especially a presumed stranger.

He learned nearly an hour and thirty minutes later, that the ‘friend’ Mr. Stark had called was not a stranger. Peter’s face blushed bright red due to him being self conscious beyond belief. The two had never technically met before, but Peter sure as hell knew who he was. In fact Peter practically idolized him.

The man standing in front of him was small in stature, however not as small as the boy himself. He was wearing a rumpled purple shirt, scoffed black dress shoes and what were clearly second hand grey slacks. The buttons on his shirt were all done up wrong, it wasn’t tucked into his pants and his left shoe was untied. All served as a testament of truly how quickly the man must’ve gotten ready. Adding to the messy look, his dark, curly hair  stuck up in every direction and his wireframe glasses lay lopsided on his nose.

The usually calm man had entered the room frantically. He looked like a child on a sugar high, manic in an uncharacteristic way. But as soon as a he saw Tony, who was leaning against a desk piled high with papers in the corner of the room, all of the mania slid away. He took in a deep breath, fixed his glasses and reached forward to hug the man.

The sound of Tony’s hand hitting the other man’s back resonated loudly in the room. The two men embraced like they hadn’t seen each other in a century and Tony leaned forward to whisper something in the other’s ear. In response he hummed in understanding and then spun on his heels to face the examination table.

Dark eyes met his own and the man in front of him gave a little wave, awkwardly running his fingers over his upper arm, “Hi Peter! I’m Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can just call me Bruce.”

Peter’s jaw dropped at the words. He had known who Dr. Banner was from the second he had entered the room, but it was still surreal to hear the words spoken.

“Tony,” he gestured vaguely in the direction of the man, “Called me to help out with something…” he trailed off awkwardly at the end, clearly uncomfortable with describing the nature of the exam.

“So that I am clear upfront, I am not exactly a medical doctor per say, fun fact my title of doctor actually comes from having 7 PHDs,” his soft voice rumbled in a small chuckle, and Peter was stunned by the eccentricity of the brilliant man. “But I know a significant amount about medical examination from my time helping those in need while I was...abroad..” he finally says for lack of a better term, “and I am certainly qualified to perform this examination for you.”

Peter’s head automatically drops down to stare at his lap. His face flushed and his ears tinted bright red when he heard the man mention the mortifying nature in which they were meeting. His hands pulled at the fabric of his black gym shorts, trying to cover his black and blue speckled thighs and the tracks of blood and semen that marred his skin. He had never been more embarrassed in his life, meeting one of his childhood heroes never should of worked out this way.

A gentle hand ran through his hair, pushing several curls back behind his ear. Hot air hit the boys neck and the whispered words of, “You got this, I believe in you kiddo!” making his heart soar.  

With Mr. Stark still running his calloused hand through the boy's hair, Peter had the courage to look up once again. Bruce must’ve moved across the room while the boy was freaking out, because he now stood right in front of him. The man’s stance was casual and his surprisingly small hands held a medium sized white cardboard box.

The box was about the size of a first aid kit. The side of the white cardboard proclaimed ‘Sexual Assault Evidence Collection Kit’ in large navy blue lettering and the top had a bright orange ‘biohazard’ sticker in the corner. There were instructions written on the top of the box in the same navy blue lettering and the word ‘male’ was underlined in sloppy red ink.

Peter stared down at the floor. He wiggled his toes, clutched the fabric of his pants tightly, and squinted his eyes closed. Maybe if he didn’t look at it, that stupid box would disappear.  Or he simply could pretend it didn’t exist and that he wasn’t in this crappy situation.

Mr. Stark’s warm hand squeezed the boy’s upper arms. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered into the boy’s ears, “I know you’re scared, but we need to do this to make sure you’re safe and healthy.” His voice faltered on the next few words, “I wish I could do it myself sweetheart, but I’m not qualified and you’re gonna have to trust Brucie-Bear to do it. He’s one of my best friends Peter and I promise, promise, promise it’s going to be alright.”

When Peter finally looked up at the man in front of him, he was gifted with a small smile and a pat on the back from his mentor, followed by a softly murmured ‘good boy’. Peter preened at the praise, training his breath to even out. He tried to convince himself to calm down. He was safe. He was safe. He was safe.

Bruce then slowly approached the table, making sure to keep his actions large and obvious. He kept his hands visible at all times, terrified of scarring the fragile boy.

When he reached the table, he laid the offending box down on the crinkling paper covering a small strip of the metal. The sounds made Peter’s hair stand on edge. Every inch of his pale flesh shivered in anticipation and fear. But he ignored the apprehension in favor of staying focused on his breathing.

The box next to him emitted a loud noise as it was opened. Bruce’s small hands reached out, pulling a piece of paper from the stack of objects in the box. It was loudly unfolded and Peter cringed at the sound. He was terrified of what the paper will read and he wanted nothing more than to leap off the examination table and run away. He wanted to go find Alex, and chase after the feelings of love and safety that no longer existed. He wanted to escape the harsh questioning and probing of the two men in the room.

But, that option quickly became exhausted when the man next to him gently started to talk. “Alright Peter, the first step is all about consent.” Peter eyed the man questioningly, but he simply continued talking, “In this exam I am going to ask you to do and speak about a lot of things that you might find scary, uncomfortable or intrusive” Peter’s entire body shuddered at those words. “I want you to truly give it your all and cooperate as much and as well as you possibly can. However, you have to right to say no to anything I ask you do to. I’m not here to traumatize you further and  I promise you that everything I do will be with express verbal consent on your part. Do you understand?”

Peter moved to nod his head, but knowing the man was looking for verbal consent he stumbled out a ‘yes Dr. Banner’.

“Alright then, can I please get a verbal consent to start the examination?”

Peter felt like his voice disappeared. His throat was dry and he felt like there were a hundred butterflies flapping their little wings in his stomach. But, the boy still managed to let out a soft ‘yes’, dropping his gaze down to his lap. The single word caused his heart to race. His hands shook nervously and he tried to push his nails into his palms- chasing the sweet feeling of a painful release. But in the blink of an eye, one of Tony’s large hands dropped from his hair and wrapped around the boy’s skinny wrist.  He rubbed circles onto the back of his skin with the pads of his fingers and he used the other to gently sweep a stray curl out of his face. The man’s lips ghosted against his ear as he whispered “I’m proud of you kid.”

Regardless of the verbal consent he had given Bruce, the boy was still quite nervous about the exam. His stomach churned in fear and apprehension clawed at his conscious. His skinny fingers tried to dig into his bruised skin, but Tony’s grip tightened around his wrist.  

This entire situation was confusing, because Peter genuinely didn’t know what he wanted. On one hand, he wanted to make sure he was STD free and HIV negative. But he didn’t need to go through this entire process and he certainly didn’t need one of his idols viewing him as a poor, traumatized victim.  

When it came down to it, Peter refused to believe that he was a victim. He was in a relationship with Alex for gods sake and he certainly hadn’t raped him. So why the fuck did he need to get a rape test done anyways? It didn’t make sense to the boy. It made his heart race and his blood boil. Why wasn't he allowed to be loved by anyone? He was so fucked up, such a freak that no one actually loved him. So why did he have to ruin the closest thing he had ever had to love by getting a rape kit. He hadn't been raped, end of story. So why the fuck did he need this stupid exam anyways?

“Alright Peter,” Bruce started talking while unfolding the piece of paper in his small fingers. He squinted his eyes through his glasses to read the first item, “First we have to establish the narrative, you can tell me as little or as much as you feel up to. This stage primarily helps me determine what is applicable for the rest of the exam, but it can also be quite therapeutic to talk about the event if you feel comfortable.”

When Dr. Banner finished speaking, Peter growled at the man like a wild animal. His teeth were bared and his breathing was erratic. The boy’s fists were clenched at his sides. The pads of Tony’s fingers rubbed soothing circles into the pale inside of Peter’s wrist, but he tore his hands away. The hold on his hands felt too familiar. He felt trapped like a wild animal backed into a corner.

Peter’s naked body was splayed across the bed. His pale complexion complimented the soft yellows and whites of the bed like a patch of wild flowers. However, the inky blue and black bruises on his thighs stood out in heavy contrast. Like storm clouds heavy in the sky on a warm summer day.

A single one of Alex's hands pushed both of the boys wrists firmly together. They were tightly pinned above his head, trapped on top of a fluffy yellow pillow. However, the soft pillow case felt like sandpaper under his skin. The only movement of his hands were in his fingers. He traced them up and down the soft fabric, trying to regain any sense of control over the situation.

Warm air brushed against Peter’s bare collarbone. The boy squirmed, trying to escape the tight grasp of his boyfriend pinning him down. But Alex simply chuckled, and held on to the boy tighter. He lowered his head down, staring up through his long eyelashes and the terrified boy.

His lips traced against Peter’s skin, nipping and sinking his teeth down painfully. Hs entire body jolted when teeth scraped across his nipple and bit down harsly. The boy frantically tried to squirm away, but Alex held his arms so tight he thought they were going to snap and bit down harder.   

He felt like his skin was on fire. The patterns of bruises and bite marks adorning his skin were fiery comets in the starry night sky and his eyes leaked raindrop tears. The boy’s head was tipped back and Alex’s teeth sunk into his pale flesh like predator and prey. A scream ripped from his chest, piercing through the air.

The hand not grasping his wrists, clamped over his mouth. Fingers dug into the side of face and Alex leaned down licking and kissing the skin around his fingers. Spittle flew across the skin of his face and chest as he spoke,“Shut the fuck up Peter. I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

Peter escaped the flashback like a rubber band snapping, quickly, loudly and with force.

He held his hands close to his chest, making himself smaller and physically scooting his body away from Tony. He shook like an autumn leave and he gnawed at his bottom lip aggressively.

“I can’t fucking establish a narrative Dr. Banner because there is no story to be told.” Bruce’s face flashed with hurt at the harshness of Peter’s words and for a second the boy felt guilty. He hadn’t meant to hurt Dr. Banner, the man looked like a teddy bear and Peter certainly wouldn’t internationally hurt him. But, he had to make it very clear from the get go that there was no story to tell.

“I’m sorry sir,” his voice was quiet and apprehensive, “but I simply don’t have a story to tell. I had completely consensual sex with my boyfriend and Mr. Stark is just overreacting. I’m only doing this to make him happy anyways…” Peter scowled and stared down at his lap at those words. He wanted to convince himself that his decision was only for Mr. Stark’s benefit, but that was  a not necessarily true sentiment. He decided to get the exam both for Mr. Stark AND for himself. As selfish and disrespectful he was being to Alex, Peter needed to make sure he was safe and healthy. He need to protect himself from potential life threatening diseases, and keep himself at least physically healthy.

The man standing next to him shifted his stance, letting the weight sink from his right foot into his left one. Tony’s voice is soft in volume when he speaks, but the inflection and tone of his voice is powerful and loud, “Brucie-Bear, Peter is feeling a little apprehensive about that part of the exam” His eyes darkened and he looked like he wanted to elaborate, but he instead continued speaking, “Maybe we can move on to the next part and come back to this later on if Peter feels comfortable?”

Bruce nodded his head quickly, both understanding the sentiment and wanting to avoid confrontation. Mr. Starks statement had been phrased as a question, but it was clear there was no other option. “We can totally do that, no problem whatsoever Peter,” he awkwardly smoothed his hands over the rumpled purple fabric of his shirt.

The short man moved to rustle through the white box sitting on the edge of the table. He pulled out several objects, laying them to rest next to the box. Among them were a sealed bag of long white swabs, a thick grey comb, several envelopes, a pack of clear plastic vials and a crinkly package labeled ‘gloves’.

Dr. Banner tore the package open first, swiftly pulling the gloves over his hands. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, using the inside of his wrist in order to not contaminate the gloves, and turned to face the boy. His hair was still as messy as before and his outfit was distinctively unkempt. In fact, it is quite weird to see the professional gloves against the casual, disheveled appearance of the man. He almost looked like a regular person who had accidentally stumbled into a doctors office. But the way his hands moved with precision and the way his dark eyes meet his own, told a different story. Bruce Banner was clearly a doctor, the eyes alone gave it away. The man looked at him with a sense of kindness and gentleness usually reserved for the sickest of patients or the victims of sexual assault or violent crime.

When the man looked at him, his skin felt like it was on fire. He ducked his head staring down at his toes. He hated being seen as a victim. He was Spider-Man, not some dumb rape victim who received pitying glances and gentle words. Peter shook his head at that thought, because it wasn’t like he thought all rape victims were dumb, or any rape victims for that matter. It wasn’t about shaming victims or any of that crap, it was about that fact that he fucking hated himself.

He was supposed to be invisible, but he didn't feel that way. He felt like he was a shattered glass window, a bicycle left abandoned on the side of the hill during a storm, or the rotten apple laying at the base of a tree during the fall. He felt disposable, like something you can use until it's broken and then throw away.

Bruce’s voice was soft and caring as he twirled the little baggy of swabs between his gloved fingers, “The next part of the exam starts out pretty simple. I have a couple of swabs here,” he held the bag up to show the boy exactly what they looked like, “and with permission, I would like to swap the inside of your mouth.” Bruce waits for the information to settle in slightly, before asking “Does that sound ok.”

Peter softly agreed, while still staring down at his toes. He could hear the plastic bag tear loudly, causing his breathing to speed up the tiniest. Terrified of eventually becoming stuck in a whirlwind of panic, he sucked in deep soothing breathes. He reminded himself that this is only a swab in mouth. He could handle having something small in his mouth, it was like sucking on candy or chewing on the end of an eraser. This will be ok, he promised himself over and over and over again.

The feeling of cotton was heavy on the boys tongue. The swab pushed and pulled over his tongue, up the sides of his mouth and over his sore gums. When it is pulled away, Peter could see a small amount of his own blood on the wet cotton. Other than the slight red twinge of the material, the completely normal looking swab was pushed into an envelope. Bruce placed a large, orange ‘evidence’ sticker on the flap and pushed the envelope of to the side.

Behind him, he heard Mr. Stark sharply inhale when he saw the sticker. The hands by the man's side, jerked forward as if he wanted to grab the envelope from the table. However, his large hands hovered inches away from the  boy’s skin. He stared straight into Peter’s eyes, his eyes firey and out of control. “Can I touch you?” he asked, voice firm and strong.

When the boy quickly agreed to Mr. Stark’s touch, the man's hands closed the gap between them. Large fingers ran across the boy’s upper arm. Feeling the warm fingers danced across his flesh, made the boy sigh contently. It made him feel grounded and his hands radited courage like a pulse.

Bruce stood in front of him once again, having placed the envelope in the correct spot. One gloved hand held a comb, while the other held another several swabs. “Before we get onto the harder part of the examination, may I have your consent to recover samples from your hair and under your fingernails?”

With the proper given consent, the comb ran through his hair swiftly and the swabs quickly brushed under his nails. The entire time, Peter stared down at his toes and focused solely on the feeling of Mr. Starks warm hands on his upper arms.

When the evidence was properly bagged and the orange stickers had been stuck to the envelopes, the tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Dark shadows danced across the ceiling and Peter wanted nothing more for them to swallow him up whole.

Bruce stood in front of the boy, trying to exude a confidence he did not possess. His gloved hands awkwardly held new swabs and a recently disinfected comb. When he spoke, his voice cracked like thunder in a dry storm. “So we’ve now reached the really super uncomfortable part of the exam...” his voice trailed off slightly, but he continued on soon after, “Before we start I want to set up a few guidelines. I want you to know that you are in one hundred percent control of what happens right now and what you say goes. I am going to make this go as quickly as possible, but I also have to be thorough in order for this to work best.” His eyes darted to Mr. Stark, but he continued speaking without losing a beat, “Because this next part of the exam is sensitive you can either have Mr. Stark leave the room or he can stay here to support you. I need your verbal consent to start this process, so please tell me what you’re feeling up to when you’re ready.”

When Peter heard those words, he automatically wanted to send Tony away from the room. He didn’t want Mr. Stark to see him in the state he was sure to be in during the next part of the examination. It was mortifying, and the boy’s face flushed bright red in embarrassment. The man probably hated him already for being a dirty faggot, he didn’t need to add to the list of reasons he was a disappointment.

But on the other hand, Mr. Stark staying sounded so damn appealing. He was addicted to the feeling of his warm hands rubbing his upper arm and the sweet nothings the man whispered in his ear truly helped the boy feel more grounded. He wasn’t even sure he could make it through this next part if Mr. Stark didn’t stay . Without Tony, who would protect him? Who would save the day and make him feel better?

“I want him to stay...please..and I’m ready for the exam now, you just need to tell me exactly what’s happening before you touch me...” His voice was as quiet as the flap of a single butterflies wings. He was terrified of sharing his needs with the men, but if Dr. Banner touched him when he wasn’t looking or someplace scary, he feared he would have a complete and utter mental breakdown.

Tony’s hands started rubbing the boy’s arms faster after he spoke. Peter felt like he could feel the man’s entire body vibrating through his hands, like a cat purring in content. He leaned into the touch, just focusing on the feeling of fingertips trailing over his skin. He was going to be ok. He was going to be ok. He was going to be ok.

“Sounds like a plan” Bruce exclaimed, as he moved slightly closer to the examination table. “The first step is going to be easiest,” His eyes glance down at the marred flesh on Peter’s exposed thighs. “I’m going to swab over your thighs in order to catch any dried semen or blood samples. Do I have permission to collect these samples.”

Peter pushed outward, chasing the feeling of Mr. Stark’s hands on his arm. The man pushed down harder in response, kneading the skin and grounding Peter to this moment. “Alright..” Peter's voice was small, but Bruce clearly heard it.

The man lifted a long, white swab from the examination table. He twirled it once between his fingers and then moved slightly forward to stand in front of the boy. “I’m going to touch you with only the swab Peter. It probably won’t hurt, but it may stick a little bit. I need to scrape it several times across your skin to collect the samples and then you’ll be all done.” His voice is gentle and kind, but it was also clinical and outlined the steps he was going to take in great detail.

The swab was cold when it made contact with his skin. The cotton scraped and scratched at the substances that coated his thighs. It didn’t hurt, but every time the material came in contact with the bruises he would clench his fists together. He dug his nails into his palms, but Mr. Stark caught his small hands in his larger ones. Everytime the boy moved to injure himself, Tony would wedge his fingers between Peter’s nails and his palms. The silence in the room, only accompanied by the small scratching sound of the swab, was broken by Tony’s voice. “I don’t think so kid. Hurt me if you need to hurt someone, but your body does not get a mark from yourself while I’m around.”

Dr. Banner took in a sharp inhale when he heard the word, but he simply continued swabbing as if heard nothing. Little flecks of white and red flaked up, and Bruce quickly coated the swab in the scrapings. He then moved to place the tainted swab into another envelope, sealing it with an orange evidence sticker and sealing it quickly. His hands shook as he placed it with the previous envelope.

“Time for the next step,” his voice was artificially cheerful, “This step is probably going to be the hardest, but I promise we are going to be here the entire time and I will make it go as quickly as possible. If we go through with this step, I’m going to ask you to remove your shorts and underwear,” Peter’s fingers moved to dig into his palm, he needed to feel pain. But, Tony held onto his hands tightly and refused to move his fingers from in between the boy’s nails and palms. “ I am going to have you roll on your back and I am going to spend approximately 90 seconds swabbing in and around your anus for any DNA your attacker might’ve left.” Peter scowled at the word attacker, but his breathing was far too frantic already for him to truly care. The boy was truly in panic mode. He felt like he was about to walk off a cliff or like there was an imaginary hand around his neck, choking him.  

But, the boy swallowed hard, quelling his fear and forcing himself to calm down and put on a brave face. He harshly pulled a hand from his mentor’s grasp, running his fingers over the fabric of the black gym shorts he was wearing.

A tear landed on the fabric with a soft thud. He ran his fingertips through the liquid, meshing it with the fabric. The rational side of his brain knew that he was safe. The feeling of Mr. Stark grasping his other hand helped him know this. But, he was still terrified. The prospect of being so vulnerable in the presence of two powerful men put him on edge. Not only was it mortifying, but what would happen if they took advantage of him? What would happen if they overpowered him and forced him to do unthinkable things. Neither of the men were as tall or large as Alex. Neither were as cruel as his boyfriend. But, they were both larger than him and he felt like they could easily overpower him if they wanted to.

Peter took in a deep breath. He was ok, he trusted Mr. Stark with his life and the man would not hurt him. He was safe. He was safe. He was safe.

The fabric of his shorts and underwear slipped over his bruised thighs. He pulled them down quickly, staring at his toes and focusing on the weight of Mr. Stark’s hand in his own. He  was safe here. No one was going to hurt him. He was safe here.

The fabric landed in a pool on the floor, with a soft thud. The paper crinkled loudly as the boy maneuvered his body to be lying on his stomach. His nose pressed against the cool metal of the table and he focused on taking in several deep breaths. He was ok. He was ok. He was ok.

“Do I have permission to touch you Peter?” Bruce asked gently. The response was delayed by a few seconds before he received a soft ‘yes from the boy.

A gloved hand touched the back of his upper thigh, spreading his legs in the slightest bit. Peter jerked away from the touch, trying to get away.

Alex’s large, warm hand was touching the skin of his lower thigh. He was laying on his back, head pressed into the soft fabric of a pillowcase. The scent of lemon burned his nose. But he forced himself to breath in the toxic scent, having gone dizzy only seconds earlier when he had tried to stop breathing.  

The rough hand grabbed the fabric of the boy’s boxers. It twisted and pulled at the material, inching it lower and lower down his legs.

The boy begged his boyfriend not to undress him, to leave him be. But a heavy leg pressed into his back and the underwear was quickly yanked down the rest of the way.

“You're not in control of this Peter,” Alex’s voice spit, “Only I decided when and what I want to do with your body”

“Please, please don’t,” He started to beg now. The hand pulled away from his skin, and Tony’s hands tightly gripped his own.

The man tipped his head down, catching eye contact with the terrified boy, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable sweetheart. Just say the word and I promise it will be over.”

Peter stared straight into the man’s dark brown orbs. He was trying to plead with him through the eye contact. Beg the man to not let this happen. To save him from the horrors he has had to endure.

But Tony’s eyes hold a look of confusion, small pools of tears threatening to spill at the corner. “Please talk to me kid, tell me what’s wrong and I promise to fix it,” His voice was soft and pleading. “I love you so much sweetheart and if this hurts you, we don’t have to do it.”

Peter felt like he had lost his voice. Like there was a dam blocking his vocal chords. No words were coming out and all he could do was shake his head over and over and over again. He couldn’t do this. No, he couldn't do this. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this.

“Please save me Mr. Stark...please don’t let him hurt me…please make him go away...make Alex leave...”