The Cloak of Levitation Makes A Good Blanket
Peter was sitting on the couch in the Avengers tower living room, knees tucked into his chest as he cried into a pillow, attempting to stifle his sobs. He didn’t want to bother anyone who might have been in the tower at the time. Nobody knew he was here, as it wasn’t one of his normal days to come over. But he couldn’t have gone home, because he knew the second he walked into the apartment, May would know something was up. She’d ask for an explanation, and even though Peter felt bad for saying it, he didn’t want to talk to her right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. So instead, he had texted her after school, pretending he had a last second internship meeting with Tony. And now he was here, sobbing in the middle of a house of superpowers. And he hated every minute of it, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop the tears.
Simply put, the reason he was upset was Flash. But Peter knew it was more than that. A while ago, while being Spider-Man, Peter had discovered that Flash’s father mentally, and sometimes physically abused him. And after that, something just changed in the way Peter looked at him. Peter just couldn’t stand to fight back, defend himself, or do anything that would add to Flash’s pain. He knew it wasn’t healthy for him, but he couldn’t be the reason anyone was getting hurt. Not when he could prevent it. So he just suffered silently. Usually, he could just try to avoid Flash and his friend. Peter would just attempt to tune him out, or walk away. But Flash had been especially nasty today, making jokes about Peter’s parents, and even mocking his uncle, which made it ten times harder to ignore. Peter had done his best to block it out, but at lunch, Flash and his friends had gotten up in his face, insulting his mom, and mimicking his dad, seemingly looking for a fight, until Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He got up, biting his lip to keep from crying, and left the cafeteria in a rush. Ned and Mj had stood up, yelling at Flash. When Peter turned back to look, MJ was giving him the middle finger, and Ned was talking to the teacher currently on lunch duty. Peter knew they were just trying to help, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause a fuss. So he kept walking away, and walked around the school round. A couple minutes later, the end-of-lunch bell rang, and Ned and MJ showed up. They didn’t say anything, knowing Peter needed to be alone. So instead, they did what they could to help him survive the rest of the day. Like reminding him to stay awake in class, and covering for him when he fell asleep anyway. When the day finally ended, Peter didn’t spare them a goodbye, just grabbed his backpack, informed May he was going to see Tony, and left. He boarded a bus and headed to the tower. He had a keycard to the building, so he let himself in, forcing himself not to cry until got all the way inside, before collapsing onto the couch. He hadn’t moved since then, besides instructing Jarvis not to tell anyone he was there, still crying nonstop.
None of the any heroes had made an appearance, so Peter assumed they were either in their rooms, or out to grab dinner. He continued to hug a pillow on the couch, trying to block his emotions out. All of a sudden, he felt himself being enveloped in something warm and soft, wrapping him up in a comforting heat. Peter subconsciously curled into it, laying down on the couch, before he even thought to open his eyes. He was greeted by Dr. Strange leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his face emotionless. Peter’s eyes moved to the blanket surrounding him, only to find it wasn’t actually a blanket. Peter panicked, sitting straight up and attempting to shove the scarlet cape off him, to no avail, apologizing profusely as he did so. The cape seemed to hold on, refusing to yield. After a moment, Strange seemed to take pity on Peter, clearing his throat and motioning for him to stop moving. Strange pursed his lips, “I think at this moment, you may need it more than I do,” Peter, who had stopped moving, looked at him with an expression that made the corners of Strange’s mouth twitch upwards. Peter didn’t say anything in reply, just laid back down on the couch, practically snuggling the blanket, and closed his eyes. Strange recomposed himself, and walked out of the room, leaving Peter to get some sleep. But not before taking a picture of the young boy, who looked almost peaceful as he slept, and setting it as his lockscreen. He supposed getting closer to Peter wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.