Casualty of the Darkness

Peter sat curled up like a cat under a mound of 3 brightly colored fuzzy blankets on the sleek black leather couch in Mr. Stark’s living room. His fingers were wrapped around a large black mug, a bright red Spider-Man logo proudly displayed on the front. His hot chocolate was steaming in little wisps hovering inches above the mug. Every time he tipped the drink back, gooey half melted marshmallow stuck to his chapped lips. 

The couch shifted as Mr. Stark's weight sunk into the pile of fuzzy blankets next to him. The man’s own mug was half full with burning hot coffee, but little marshmallows still floated in the black liquid. His goatee had a small amount of marshmallow fluff stuck in the dark hair. 

“I think we need to talk kid,” Tony’s voice was soft and careful. His head tipped back to take another sip of his coffee before he continued talking. “I’m really worried about you sweetheart, and all I want is to protect you from this big, bad, scary world. But I can’t protect you if you never tell me what’s wrong.”

Peter groaned at the man’s guilt trip. He stared down at the little swirls of melted marshmallow and hot cocoa in his mug. It looked like a galaxy of browns and whites, swirling together and tempting him with its otherworldly nature.  

“Please talk to me kid, I promise to listen to everything you say, but I can’t help if you don’t at least clue me in a little.”

Peter’s eyes shifted up from the chocolate galaxy and into the abyss of Tony’s dark orbs. He traced the movement of a tear dripping down his tan skin. The liquid caught in the corner of his mouth, and the man’s tongue darted out to catch it.

“I’m not trying to threaten you sweetheart, so please don’t misinterpret this, but if you don’t talk to me I don’t have a ton of options. I haven’t even reached out to May yet kid…” his voice trailed off. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re welcome to stay here anytime you want, hell you could even move in permanently if you wanted to, but we have to talk before we can make any decisions. Once we talk we can make a game plan and then one or both of us can call your Aunt.”

Peter started back down at the chocolate and marshmallow swirls of his drink. His fingers wrapped tighter around the warm mug and he sighed. The boy had completely forgotten about his aunt. She was probably worried out of her mind about him and he hadn’t even think about her for a second. He was a horrible nephew, self centered and dirty and fucking broken. He didn’t deserve to have an Aunt like May. He was too disgusting, too much of a freak for someone as  perfect as May to love.

“Hey, hey, hey kiddo” Tony soothed the boy. His warm hand gripped Peter’s chin softly and the boy lifted his gaze to stare into the man’s eyes. “We don’t have to worry about that quite yet Peter, but I still want you to talk to me, kid. We’re going to figure it out together, but I need you to trust me. Please trust me kiddo”

Peter’s stomach churned violently. He knew the man was speaking the truth, but it still hurt him to hear. He hated the notion that he didn’t trust Mr. Stark. The man truly was one of the biggest supports in his entire life; a person who was there for Peter through thick and thin. But this felt too horrifying to talk about. He didn’t want to lose the man’s respect over some stupid relationship problems he could probably handle himself. 

“...please,” Mr. Stark begged, the tears still dripped down his face heavily. “Just talk to me kid.”

Minutes ticked by as Peter started down at his mug. This was the moment of truth. The moment when he could make it alright again. He held the power right now and maybe he could use it. 

“We met at a party last year,” Peter’s soft voice made Tony’s head snap up. The boy shrunk back because his mentor was now staring straight at him, but he forced himself to continue. “I was having a complete freak out because there were too many people and everything was too loud and I was such a hot mess. I was hiding in the bathroom, where I thought I had locked the stupid door, when this guy came rushing into the room. At first I was mortified, this random ass guy had caught me hysterically crying in the bathroom at a party and I hated that he saw me looking like such a freak.” Tony shifted when he heard that word, but Peter continued before he could comment. “Anyways, instead of making fun of me or leaving or anything normal like that, he sat down on the floor. He sat down right next to me and talked for literally hours. We talked about everything and anything and at the end he kissed me a single time before disappearing back into the party.”

Peter almost stopped at the next part. He was unsure of how much he should share with the man. He didn't want Mr. Stark to hate him, but he wasn’t sure he could keep anything a secret anymore. “At that time, I had already been questioning my sexuality for years.” He stared over at the man, content when his expression did not change in the slightest. No disgust was present on the man’s face and he instead seemed to simply be listening.“That was my first kiss with a guy though, I guess it was actually my first kiss altogether, but girls never appealed to me anyways. And I guess it was the moment I finally came to terms with being gay. It wasn’t even that good of a kiss, all wet and unsure, but kissing a boy at all just felt so right.”

Tony’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “The way you talk about him would be seriously adorable if he wasn’t an abusive jerk.”

Peter’s face contorted into a painful grimace. “He really wasn’t always bad. He used to buy my favorite chocolate milkshakes for me when I was sad. We would watch sci-fi movies curled up together and go on long walks together. We were the perfect couple, he was strong and handsome and I was the little, pathetic dork he took pity on and dated.”

“Hey, hey, don’t say that about yourself, Peter,” Tony’s voice chastised him softly, wringing his hands in anxiety. 

“It’s true though…” Peter’s voice spit out like venom, “I am pathetic and we all know it.. you don’t need to humor me because you feel bad.” 

Tony’s hands ran through the boy’s hair. His fingertips rubbing and scratching behind his ears. It made his breathing even out and he leaned in to fingers like a touch starved baby animal. 

“You know I love you, right?” Tony continued rubbing his fingers through the boy’s hair. His voice was soft and unsure, the question full of apprehensive insecurity. 

Peter started down at his lap. He knew Tony had told him multiple times that he loved the boy. But, he wasn’t sure he necessarily believed him. Loving Peter wasn’t an easy task. He was needy, traumatized and self destructive. He made caring about him miserable for others. They often would stay for a little while, thinking they could fix him and then leaving when they realized he was too broken to fix.

 Peter started speaking softly, not sure of what to say. “I guess I know you, uh, you know...love me and all...but sometimes I just forget. And like, I think you won’t love me anymore if you find out what a freak I am.” His voice awkwardly resonates, getting louder at the next phrase. “No one loves broken people Mr. Stark and I’m fucking broken!”

Tony’s hand pulled from his hair and settled on Peter’s upper arm. “You're not a freak Peter, and you’re certainly not broken. You’re amazing and strong and badass and the sweetest kid I have ever met in my entire life.” 

Peter scowled up at the man, “How can you even say that though? Don’t you get it I am a freak! A fucking horrible, piece of shit faggot who deserves to die. Even my fucking boyfriend believes that, so why shouldn't I? People like me aren’t meant to be happy. We have to be punished for being so repulsive. PLEASE, let me punish myself. Please.”

While he was yelling, Peter started hitting his hand on his thigh. It started slow, getting faster and faster until Tony grabbed his wrist. “Stop hurting yourself Peter, please stop hurting yourself kid,” The man begged the boy. 

“I can’t!” Peter screamed, “I can never fucking stop hurting myself because I deserve it and it feels so good.” Peter’s voice lowered and he stared straight into Tony’s eyes “I think I might be addicted to it. Sometimes I even push at the bruises just to feel the pain and I feel sick when I remember that I did not give them to myself. He gave them to me and I can’t help but loving them...loving him..lovin-”

“Can I show you something?” Mr. Stark interrupted, twitching his free hand in anxiety. The man looked nervous, but determined. 

When Peter nodded his head in confusion, the man stood up from the couch. He stood parallel to the boy, staring down at him with an intense gaze. He rolled the top of his bright green, hulk themed sweatpants down to his knees. A new pair of clean, plaid boxers were revealed under the fabric.

 His hands darted down to the edge of his boxers, and he ran the fabric between two fingers pinched together. Lifting the edge of the boxers, the skin of his thigh was revealed. The tarnished flesh was in stark contrast to the creamy texture of the rest of his skin. His thighs were a canvas of a million tiny white scars, crisscrossing in every which way. Some scars were larger and deeper than others, some more shallow (appearing more like tiny cat scratches on his thighs). They were old, the white scars faded with decades of healing. A few were newer, but none could’ve been from the last several years. Peter knew the scars would never fade from his thighs. They would live on forever, displayed on Tony’s skin. A canvas of faded pain and a reminder of every battle he had had with himself. It was clear the man had lost many, but ultimately he had won. His presence in this room, in Peter’s life, was a testament to the fact that Tony had made it. He had defeated his demons and survived. Mr. Stark was one of the strongest people he had ever met and knowing this information made the boy respect him even more. Mr. Stark was his role model and knowing he struggled with self harm as well, made him feel safer and more welcome than ever. 

Tony’s voice sounded on the edge of tears as he started talking, “When I was 16, I was a fucking mess kiddo. Just like you,” He gestured vaguely to his thighs and then towards Peter’s hands, “I was addicted to hurting myself, an alcoholic at an age I couldn’t even legally drink at, and abused by someone who was supposed to love me.”

“I’m not abused Tony…he loves me. I swear he lo-”

Tony plopped back down on the pile of fuzzy blankets, not bothering to pull his pants back up. “Calm down and let me finish kid. I know you think he loves you but Alex,” Peter flinched violently at the name, “that’s the scumbags name right?” He didn’t wait for an answer, already knowing he was correct. “He doesn’t love. Just like my dad didn’t love me, he doesn’t love you. And what sucks, is that we’re the ones who wind up with an addiction to our own pain, while they get to go on living their life as normal. We wind up fucked up and hating ourselves. We wind up feeling broken beyond repair. And I hate to break it to you kid, but we are NOT broken and I fucking refuse to let you turn into me. You’re too bright to turn into a cranky old man who never healed from his childhood trauma. You have a future in front of you that I refuse to let it contain addictions you will spend forever fighting. You will not be another Tony fucking Stark. Another little boy who never faced their abuser. Peter I need you to hear me when I say that I never faced my abuser because he died before he could take accountability. My father fucking died before I could heal and I will not let you live with that burden. You are going to have the opportunity to heal if it’s the last thing I ever do. I promise that you will be able to heal kiddo.”

Tears ran down Peter’s face. They landed in little droplets in the boy’s mug of cold hot chocolate. The drink diluted the slightest, tears swirling in the little galaxies of brown and white liquid. 

“Does he really not love me? Like not at all?” Peter’s tone was pleading, begging the man to say the words he would never hear; promise love that never existed in the first place. 

“No Peter,” Tony’s head shook harshly. “He really doesn't love you sweetheart.” 

Peter felt like his heart stopped. His breathing was erratic and he tried to beg with the man.“But...but... I love him so much Mr. Stark. I really truly love him, he can’t not love me. It isn’t fair, he has to love me.”

Tony sighed loudly, reaching out to card his hand through Peter’s curls. “He doesn’t love you Peter. I promise he doesn’t love you. I know this doesn’t make sense to you right now kiddo, but I swear he doesn’t love you. Love doesn't hurt sweetheart. Love is beautiful and magical and amazing, but love doesn't hurt. If the person that claims to love you hurts you, it’s not true love. It’s fake and dangerous and scary and you don’t deserve that Peter. You deserve magical kisses in the rain, soft hugs and dancing in the moonlight. You don’t deserves bruises or cuts or douchebags forcing you to have sex with them. You’re too perfect for the pain he causes you- too fucking perfect kid. ” 

The boy curled further into the fuzzy blankets on the couch. He wanted to bury himself in the weight of the world. He wanted to hide or run away from the entire human race or to stand on a rooftop screaming into the air. “I’m scared of him not loving me. I’m scared that no one else will love me again now that I’m broken. I’m scared to go to school. I’m scared to be in crowds. I’m scared of people touching me. I’m scared of people leaving me. I’m scared Mr. Stark. I am so fucking scared.” 

He felt like his face was the rocks under a waterfall. He was drowning in his own tears, they were coming so fast.  “I just want to make you proud…”

“And you are, making me proud that is. By talking to me, you are proving how strong you are. You are letting yourself heal one tiny piece at a time, piece by piece you are putting yourself back together. That is more than I could ever ask for, Peter. You are stronger than you think you are.” The pads of Tony’s fingers caught tears from his eyes like catching fireflies on a warm spring night. He rubbed soothing circles into his pale wet skin. Regardless of the cool tears, he felt warm and safe at the man’s touch. “We’re going to make it through this together Peter, I promise.” 

The boy nodded his head, for the first time in a long time truly believing it. “I’m sorry I freaked out during the rape kit… I didn’t want to offend Dr. Banner or anything, I just couldn't deal with it. I felt like a was suffocating when I couldn’t see him touching me. It made my skin crawl.”  

Tony’s laugh broke the tense air, “Oh sweetheart, Dr. Banner wasn’t offended at all and I’m sure he would love to talk to you sometime about science. You can even be science bro junior if you want… Oh my god you can be our science son!” Peter’s ears turned bright red and Tony’s tone turned more serious. “But I do owe you an apology, kiddo. I was so blindsided by your pain, I couldn't see straight. I never should have forced you to get an exam you didn’t want and weren’t feeling up to, that was seriously not cool of me. You are in control of your own life sweetheart and not even I get to control what you do. The kit is still downstairs in the medical bay and if you want we can destroy it- have a ‘fuck the system’ bonfire and burn it. But, if you don’t want to destroy it, I will be there every step of the way. I promise you however, that whatever you choose I will not leave you to struggle alone.”

Their hearts were beating louder than a thunderstorm. His short legs were tucked under his skinny frame and his arms curled around his midsection. He knew he was safe, but taking up the least amount of space was ingrained in his entire being.

He wanted to thank the man for his kindness, hug him and cry his eyes out. But, his body wouldn’t move. Guilt was present in every inch of his body. It was in the curved tears running down his face and bruises on his thighs and the little piece of hair sticking up near his ear.

He snuggled deeper into the blankets, drinking the final dredges of his cold hot chocolate and tapping on his leg repeatedly.  His eyes were cast down in guilt as he spoke. “You don’t have to apologize Mr. Stark, you did the right thing.” 

He swallowed the rest of the melted marshmallows, savoring the sweet taste. “I think...I think I was r-r-raped Mr. Stark. At first I thought it was consensual, because we’re in a relationship… but I didn’t even want sex in the first place.”  His eyes are smushed tightly shut, “We’ve been having sex for months, months Mr. Stark, and..and..and I don’t think I ever ever ever EVER agreed to it. But I convinced myself that it was ok because we were in a relationship and that compromise in a relationship is important.” 

Tony inhaled sharply. “... just because you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean you consent. Consent is an ongoing thing, just because you said yes once doesn’t mean you permanently agreed. He doesn’t get to take whatever he wants from you; that is not healthy or consensual.”  His eyes drift down to Peter’s legs, staring as if he can see through the layers of three fuzzy blankets and sweatpants. “He also doesn’t get to do that to you.” His hand gestured towards the boy’s legs. “Bruises like that are dangerous Peter. It doesn’t make you any more strong to let your boyfriend hurt you. It doesn’t prove anything about you, it just shows how shitty he is as a person.”

“But...but... I really think he loves me deep down. He probably started doing this because of something I did. Maybe it really is my fault, maybe I just have to do better.” Peter was sure this was his fault. After all, Alex used to be sweet with him. But then it all changed, like a light flip was switched, and now Alex hated him. There had to be a reason why this happened. Peter had to have done something, anything wrong. 

As if reading his thoughts, Tony butted in. “No, this is absolutely not on you Peter. You did nothing wrong and nothing you do will change him. You have to get out of there before it gets worse though. I can’t lose you because you were too noble to get your ass out of a bad situation. I refuse to lose you to your own thick head, kid.” 

Peter shrunk in on himself. He hated the hearing Mr. Stark being angry. It terrified him to hear the man’s harsh tone and the way his arm kept on shooting out like he was about to blast someone with his repulsers.

Following Peter’s gaze, the man quickly dropped his arm. “I feel like I want to kill him.” He whispered, “As soon as you uttered his name, all I could imagine was his body falling to the ground lifeless.” He stared down at his legs, “I am ashamed to admit that I would do it. I would kill that son of a bitch if it meant I could protect you. I would do anything for you Peter, anything.”

“Please don’t talk about Alex like that..please Mr. Stark, I love him too much.”

Tony scoffed, but his face softened when he saw Peter’s expression. “I know you don’t want to hear this Peter, but you need to understand how repulsive Alex is. People who hurt the ones they claim to love, are scumbags. They are truly, truly horrible people. I hate him for doing this to you and I hate him even more for still possessing your love.”

“I guess I'm scared of not loving him,” His voice came out almost like a whisper, “If I admit that I don’t love him, if I finally come to terms with calling what he did rape or abuse, I might just fall apart. I don’t know anything but the pain, so how could I manage to live without it?”

Tony spoke with confidence now, “We’re going to make it work. Me, your Aunt, Ned, all of the people who love you- we’re going to help you feel alright again. It’s not going to take a day, but I promise you will eventually feel ok again”

Peter stared up at him, holding his hand out expectantly in front of his face. “Pinky promise?”

Tony chuckled but nonetheless linked his pinky with the boy’s, “I promise kiddo. And not just any promise, I pinky promise.”

Still linked to Mr. Stark’s pinky, Peter shifted on his side. He curled himself into the corner of the couch, laying his head down on the fuzzy pillow. A loud yawn left his mouth and he pulled the hand connected to Tony’s up to rub at his eyes. “I’m really tired dad,” Tony’s smiled largely at the name, “and I think I’m ready to just watch a movie or something now. I’m feeling really overwhelmed and I want to stop talking if it’s ok.” 

Tony’s dark eyes gazed at the boy and he squeezed the boy’s pinky with his own.“Alright kiddo, I’ve got a Lego Batman Movie with your name on it.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the juvenile choice, but internally cheered. Lego Batman was his shit. The boy often wondered if Tony secretly thought he was a toddler. Pink Hello Kitty pajama Pants, animated movies, superhero bandaids and juice boxes were a staple in their relationship. He often wondered if Tony was trying to make up for the years of his life the man had missed. All the fourth grade science exhibits he never went to and the ‘boo boos’ he never got to kiss. Peter’s entire existence seemed like a giant ‘boo boo’ at this point. 

Or perhaps the man was simply just being an overprotective dad. The ‘baby monitor’ protocol was only half ironically named and Tony often spent hours combing over the footage weekly to make sure the boy was ok. The man always treated the boy like he was wrapped in bubble wrap; coddling him and making sure the boy was alright.

“You know I’m not actually four, right?” He giggled while asking the man.

Tony ruffled his hair fondly, “Keep on telling yourself that kiddo, keep on telling yourself that.” Peter stuck his tongue out at the man. “That’s not exactly helping your case.” Tony teased, while queuing up the movie to play.

“You know you love me, though.” Peter quipped back, wiggling his tongue back and forth.

“Sure do.” Tony said, leaning forward to boop the boy’s nose. “I love you just like you were my own ridiculous, goofball of a four year old son.”

Peter laughed, trying to act cool. But his insides felt like they were melting. Tony called him his son, a four year old, but a son nonetheless. Trying to be nonchalant, Peter replied with a joking, “I love you too dad.” But the phrase felt more like reality than a joke. The world ‘dad’ had felt foreign, yet familiar on his tongue. He liked the way it felt though and he wanted to say it again. 

Tony’s face broke into a lopsided grin. The tan skin around his goatee crinkling in smile lines and dimples. “You know kiddo,” His voice was unsure as he started to speak, “I don’t mind you calling me that.” Peter looked up at him confused. “Dad… I mean. You can call me Dad if you want, Peter.”  

Peter’s heart caught in his throat. He had never really had a dad before. His own father had passed away when he was younger. He only had faint memories of the man, the sound of a laugh tinkling like sea glass or a smile catching the light. Uncle Ben had quickly filled the role, acting as the father figure that had guided him through his childhood years into the complex years of being a teenager.  

The past few years had been complicated for the boy to navigate. He loved his Aunt more than words could ever describe, but something always felt missing. He had hated himself for wanting more for the longest time. It felt like he was betraying her trust, or somehow saying that she had been a bad parent. But, he genuinely didn’t feel that way. He simply craved having more love than a single person could provide and perhaps he also craved having father figure. As a gay guy and the child of a single parent, Peter understood that you didn’t always need traditional parents to be happy. Lots of queer people provided love to their children and single parents were some of the most badass people in the world. But, something about Peter’s psyche made him crave having a father in his life. 

Overtime, Peter found Tony filling that role in his life more and more. From pep talks to the best hugs in the entire world, Mr. Stark had always been there for him. The man had never left when Peter had ugly cried all over his expensive shirts, or fucked up and endangered hundreds of people on the Staten Island Ferry. He helped often with homework and he always bought Peter double chocolate chunk ice cream when he got an A. But most importantly, he loved the boy.

Like a father, Tony promised never to leave Peter and to protect him at all costs. He stuck his neck out for the boy, held him close when he cried and put on his favorite shitty movies when he was sad.

Peter nestled his face against the fuzzy blanket. His lips were pulled up in a smile, a giggle bubbling up to the surface, “Alright dad,” his voice sounded like wind chimes, “can I ask a question though?” Apprehension was clear in his voice and the way he held his body. “If I talk to May about it, can I stay here for a couple of weeks or maybe a month...or something?” As soon as the question was asked, he stumbled to add, “If it’s not too much to ask, of course, I would never want to burden you or anything.” 

The smile on Tony’s face was as bright as a thousand suns. “Of course you can sweetheart, you are always welcome here kid.” The man moved to stand up, finally pulling his bright green, Hulk sweatpants back up. He grabbed his phone from the couch, “I’m going to call May now and explain what’s going on.” 

Peter felt apprehension at that comment. He knew May had to be filled in on the situation and he loved his Aunt more than words could explain, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for her to know about everything that had been happening in his life. He didn’t want to hurt the women. She took everything so personally and would no doubt blame herself for what had happened.

 He also wasn’t ready to be out to her. Regardless of how well it had gone with Tony, he was not ready for his Aunt to know his sexuality. He didn’t expect her to be a bigot or anything, but every time he came out it felt like there was a weight crushing him. He was never sure of how people would react. Sometimes even the most accepting, sweetest people could turn out to be a homophobic asshole. You never knew what private opinions someone held until the situation rose. It was even sadder to consider that some parents who seemed completely accepting of other LGBT people, turned their back on their own queer children. It’s one thing to accept the existence of queer people and an entire other thing to accept and love your own child. When it’s other people, it’s easy to ignore what you don’t approve of or push it to the side.  But when it's your own child and the exact thing you find uncomfortable is right in your face, it becomes harder to ignore bias. Even the sweetest parents have been known to turn on their own children when they come out and Peter simply wasn’t risking it. 

On top of everything, the boy wasn’t feeling ready to go back to his little cozy apartment in Queens. Everything there felt tainted. The sheets were stained with his own blood, ruined clothing was strewn across the room and demons hid in the darkness under his bed. His bedroom at the tower felt safer than any other place in the entire world. His posters, his soft blue and black sheets, the Legos adorning his room- they all held an air of safety and familiarity. Not to mention his mentor’s room being only inches away. One loud scream for help and Mr. Stark, his dad, would come running to save him. 

Tony tapped on his phone and moved to leave the room. In fear of what Tony would say to the women, Peter moved to stand up as well. He was going to follow the man and make sure he said the right things to May, or maybe beg him not to call at all. 

But the man pushed him back into the fuzzy mound of blankets. “Don’t worry kid, I’m just going to tell her you’re here and safe.” Peter scowled at the man, moving to get up again, But Tony pushed him back down, running his hand through the boy’s hair. “Don’t give me that look you goofball.”

Tony stuck his tongue out at the boy. Peter scowled at the man again. However when Tony tried to leave again, his small hand shoot up to grab his wrist.“Can you just... like… you know... leave out the gory details? I want to uhhh… I want her to hear it from me” The boy hastily tried to form a coherent sentence. 

Tony smiled down at the boy. Pulling his wrist from Peter’s hand, he ruffled his hair affectionately. “I promise to only tell her you’re safe and ask if you can stay for a little while longer. I know you’re scared Peter, but she is your guardian and she loves you more than anyone else in the world.” 

Peter stared down at his lap, feeling guilty once again. May truly loved him and she did have a right to know what was happening as the women who had raised him. But right now he needed to be with Tony, he needed to be with his dad.

He dropped his hands back into his lap, running the pads of his fingers over the soft fabric. “Alright Tony, just come back soon please.”

Tony nodded his head quickly and the man hastily left the room, already pressing the phone to his ear. He disappeared into his bedroom, leaving the boy to sulk on the couch. 

When Mr. Stark was gone, Peter turned his head to face the TV once again. His head lay heavily on the side of the couch and his ears tuned into the animated movie on the screen. As he continued watching, the colors on the screen blurred into brightly colored blobs. His eyes drifted shut over and over and over again, staying closed for longer periods of time as time ticked by, until he finally drifted into a peaceful slumber.