Chapter Text
He was there again. Faceless people standing over him, watching and laughing at him. Distorted whispers bouncing from ear to ear. Isn’t he a pretty one? A hand reached out and touched his shoulder. Another slid down his back. A nice catch, if I say so myself. The people had faces now, but they seemed to morph and slip into a different person every time Peter tried to look at one. They all shifted, but something always stayed the same. Their eyes. Cold and dark. Peter knew those eyes. Another hand moved up his leg. Peter tried to open his mouth to cry for help. To say something. Anything.
It wouldn’t open. His lips seemed to be sealed shut. His screams were muffled, but audible. Nobody seemed to pay them any attention. One of the shadows with his face leaned in close. Peter could smell the beer on his breath. The shadow raised it’s hand and…
BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP
Peter never thought the day would come when he was thankful for his morning alarm. He shot up, breath ragged, eyes darting around the room for a few seconds before he reached his hand up to shield his eyes from the light pouring through his small window. He fumbled around with his other hand on his bedside table, if you could call it that, for his phone, squinting at the harsh blue light. It was seven in the morning, and shouting could already be heard from downstairs. The Gordians weren’t exactly the quietest foster family he’d ever been with.
But having been in their care for a little over a year, it had just become background noise. Loud, harsh, background noise. Mrs. Gordian always seemed to be mad at something. The neighbors, the little yappy dog that lived across the street, or how her husband never cleaned up after himself. And most often, Peter. Peter was just glad he didn’t have to share a room with their son. He was the spitting image of his parents.
Peter threw on whatever shirt wasn’t incredibly wrinkled and headed downstairs. He slipped past the living room that was currently occupied by the Gordians and their screaming match and into the kitchen. He moved quickly and quietly, but Mrs. Gordian still saw him.
“Peter!”
“Yes, Mrs. Gordian?” He asked cautiously.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She came through the doors and watched as Peter got a box of cereal and a banana.
“Making breakfast?”
She eyed the banana on the counter. “Don’t get greedy, boy. There are others in this house that need to eat too. And you know how little the system pays me to keep your ungrateful behind here,” Her voice was calm, but dripping with malice. Peter slowly put the banana back in the fruit bowl. Mrs. Gordian left, and Peter scarfed down the rest of his cereal. He raced back upstairs to grab his backpack.
“Don’t run in the house!” Mr. Gordian yelled.
“Sorry!” Peter walked the rest of the way out the door. He was thankful that his foster parents had given him a Metrocard. Or, rather, not taken it away when they found out he had one. He rode the three stops to school, peoplewatched on the way, and blended in with the swarm of students walking up the steps to the front door.
As promised, Ned was standing at the entrance, and wordlessly handed Peter a granola bar. Ned was Peter’s first real friend. Not just at Midtown, but ever. Not counting the other three-year olds that were in the playgroup his mom put him in all those years ago. Ned was also the only person who knew about Peter’s “parental situation” and all the horrors it entailed. Ever since Peter had told him, Ned always packed a few extra things in his lunch to give to Peter.
“Thanks, man.” Peter said as he took the granola bar.
“Don’t worry about it. So, I was thinking- after school today, do you wanna come to my house and watch Star Trek? There’s a new episode!” Ned walked beside Peter, extremely careful not to brush shoulders without warning.
“Dude, of course! I just gotta be home by-”
“Home by 6:30. Yup. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let you get your ass beat just because we were watching Star Trek.” Ned laughed. Peter grimaced, knowing that if he was late, he would, in fact, get his ass beat. Quite literally.
“Can we go in already? I gotta turn something in to my chem teacher.” Peter readjusted his backpack.
“You mean our chem teacher? We sit next to each other!”
“ Our chem teacher.” Peter rolled his eyes. He pulled a piece of paper out of his bag and handed it to the teacher.
“Peter, I’ll let you know if I hear anything back.” Their teacher smiled, as they practically ran out of the door to make it to homeroom on time.
“What was that?”
“You mean the thing I turned in?”
“Yeah.”
“An internship application.”
“I didn’t know there was an internship available? It wasn’t on the board…?” Ned seemed confused.
“I don’t know, man. Ms. Reynolds just gave the packet to me.”
“Where is it? The lab at Queens Community? I heard that’s a pretty good one.”
“Nah. Stark Industries.”
Ned’s jaw dropped. “Peter. What the fuck. A Stark internship? A. Stark. Internship. Do you know how cool that is? When you get it it’ll look absolutely fantastic on your resume. You know how colleges eat that stuff up.”
“ If I get it. It’s typically for college students working on their Master’s and graduate degrees. Mrs. Reynolds just thought my test scores and practical experience might be enough to get me in. I don’t think I’ll get it, though. I looked on the website and it says that people from STEM colleges usually apply. Like, MIT and Georgia Tech, and stuff like that.”
“Well, I’m rooting for you.” Ned said sincerely.
“Thanks.” Peter laughed. “I hope I get it. It’s probably only going to be going on coffee runs anyway. Still, it’s another thing to keep me busy. So I don’t have to be at home.” He looked down at his feet, wishing he hadn’t brought that point up. He hadn’t meant to pull the “poor orphan Peter” card.
“You know, you’re welcome at my place any time, right? Just say you’re coming over for a sleepover.”
“Pfft. You’d really think they’d let me go for a sleepover? They’re pissy enough as it is when I just come for the afternoon.”
“Just sayin’. Maybe I could…” Ned’s eyes lit up. “Shove you in my suitcase and cart you off to the Bahamas with me.”
They laughed loudly, getting a few side-eye looks from the students around them. “You know I’m not a fan of small spaces. I’d probably spontaneously combust as soon as you started zipping me up.”
“You’re claustrophobic?”
“Yeah, dude. Harry Potter situation? Living under the stairs?” It was an attic, but still.
“Right. I’ll just get a big suitcase then.” They started to laugh again, but this time got an accusatory throat clearing from the teacher. The entire student body was convinced that Mrs. Curnow had a stick up her ass. That’s why she was so uptight. “Sorry, Mrs. Curnow.”
She gave them a glare, and returned to angrily typing on her laptop. They sat in silence for the rest of the class. Homeroom was only ten minutes, but it was the principle of the matter that bothered Peter.
Classes seemingly went by in mere seconds. They only half paid attention to the lectures, choosing instead to write notes and whisper things across the aisle. They’d got really good at not getting called out by the teachers. At lunch, Peter was sitting in his regular place, eating the food that may or may not have been supplied by Ned.
The tingle in the back of Peter’s skull realised the apple was coming before Peter did. It hit him square in the back of his head, but Peter stayed still. He didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was. Couldn’t Flash leave the food fights to poorly produced teen dramas?
Peter rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the lump already forming. He didn’t allow himself to look in Flash’s direction. Instead, Flash walked over to him and sat in the seat to his right.
“What’s up, Penis? Smooth sailing with your boyfriend?” Peter winced once again at the malicious-sounding voice, shuffling a bit across his seat in an attempt to get away.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Peter mumbled. He flashed an awkward side-eye to Ned. I’m sorry .
“Flash, can we not? Can we not do this today?” Ned rubbed his brow, clearly unimpressed with Flash’s bravado.
“Why? Want me to leave so you can ‘get it on’ with ol’ Parker here?” Flash made a kissy face.
“Seriously, dude. If you sink any lower, you’d hit bedrock. Let’s just eat a civilized lunch today.” Peter turned around to face Flash. A chime sounded somewhere out in the hall.
“Fine. But only cause the bell rang and I gotta turn in an internship application for Stark Industries .” He was clearly bragging now. Peter and Ned just let it drop, rolling their eyes before gathering their stuff and leaving for class.
“Wow. Stark Industries. So impressive.” Peter deadpanned.
“Well, now you’ve got another legitimate reason to win this internship.” Ned offered.
“And what is that?”
“To rub it in Flash’s ugly face, of course.” Ned gave an awkward smile and waved as he went to his next class. He had French while Peter took Spanish. He was good at it, but it was his least favorite class. The class periods after lunch seemed to move so slowly compared to the rest of the day. He went home without seeing Ned again. He didn’t even bother to engage with his foster parents, choosing instead to head straight up to his room.
The next few weeks were uneventful. Nothing happened at school. Nothing happened at home, which was unusual. The November chill had set in, and everyone and everything seemed to be too cold to do anything. Even the taxis seemed to honk a little less aggressively. The slow motion seemed to stop as soon as Mrs. Reynolds told Peter to stay after class that afternoon.
He frantically sent a text asking permission to his foster parents, getting a “K” in response. Ned said that he would wait for him outside the class, and then they could walk home together. He flashed a quick thumbs up to Mrs. Reynolds. As the last bell rang, Peter made his way to the chemistry lab. He tentatively knocked on the door and asked, “Mrs. Reynolds? You wanted to see me?”
She looked up from her computer and smiled. “Yes! Peter, it’s good to see you. Remember when I asked you and some other students to apply for the Stark internship?”
“Yeah. Didn’t Flash apply as well?”
Mrs. Reynolds pursed her lips. “He did, but I didn’t recommend him for it. Between you and me, he’s a bit arrogant.” Peter knew all too well. “Anyways, you could apply to multiple intern positions with the same application. I looked over yours before I mailed it in, and signed you up for the positions that I thought you would do the best in.”
“And…?” Peter furrowed his brows.
“I would like to congratulate you on your new internship! I’m so proud of you, Peter. This is an amazing opportunity and I wish you the best of luck. Now, before you go asking, I don’t know your official position yet. All I got was an email saying you were accepted.”
Peter’s face broke into a huge grin. “Mrs. Reynolds! Thank you so much! Can I hug you?”
Mrs. Reynolds smiled and walked around in front of her desk. She opened her arms and welcomed Peter in for a hug. She was shorter than Peter, but she gave pretty damn good hugs.