Spiderkid oneshots

Road to a new home

TW: Abuse, claustrophobia

Peter rushed out of the flat. Today was Saturday. His favorite day. May and her boyfriend - Dan were both at work, which meant that as long as he was home on time to make them dinner he was free to do whatever he wanted. And even better his internship was today. Definitely the best day of the week. The boy didn't take any public transports. If May or even worse Dan would find out about him spending money, Peter didn't want to think about it. Besides he didn't mind walking, he had enough time to make the 50-minute walk.

Once the boy had made it to the tower, he used the shining building as a mirror, smoothed his hair and the old clothes, trying to look a bit more in place among the fancy personnel. Then he went in still amazed by the waiting room in which you could put more than 10 of his flats. The boy walked up to the administration.

"Hello, I'm Peter Parker, I'm Mr. Stark's personal intern," He greeted. The college student side-eyed Peter with a suspicious look, typed something in the computer and with a surprised look nodded, and pressed a button to make one of the gates open.

Peter happily passed through and went to one of the elevators. He pressed the button to one of the upper floors. The elevator ride wasn't great, the boy wasn't a big fan of small spaces, but you couldn't really call the elevator small since it could probably contain a two-person bed.

"Hi, Mr. Stark!" he greeted happily entering the lab, which's size, but mostly the crowd of amazing technologies still made his eyes sparkle.

The man was doing something that made the space around him jump with sparks. When he heard the boy, he stopped and took the metal mask he was wearing for protection off. Peter was happy to see that he had gotten Mr. Stark to use it: "Hi, Pete!" Tony came forward to greet the boy, who still wasn't all that happy about the nickname, "Your design worked! Good job, kid!" the man took Peter, by his shoulder and led him to the finished prototype. Peter was really happy. He had worked hard on the device. Tony clapped his back. A sharp pain shot through the back, making him flinch, the footprints from the last beating still weren't gone. Tony noticed the sudden stiffness but didn't say anything.

"I'm glad, Mr. Stark," the boy smiled.

The rest of the day went by fast. While they were working, Peter introduced Tony to Hamilton and the man said he would take Peter to the show someday. Of course, the boy knew he would never be allowed to go, but the idea itself was exciting. Around 2 pm they ate sandwiches. They were tasty, especially for the boy who hadn't eaten in a while. After eating they turned back to work. It was amazing brainstorming ideas and solutions while listening to music. Saturdays really were the best days.

They were taking a short break when the boy noticed the clock showing 7 pm. He was late. That was bad. That was really bad. At 7 pm there was supposed to be dinner on the table. Peter would be lucky if he was there by 7:30. His face completely changed: "I have to go, Mr. Stark, otherwise my Aunt will be a-," he almost said angry, "-am, worried about me."

"Alright, 'till we meet again," the man shook Peter's hand jokingly. The boy moved to the door and waved Tony final goodbye. The man waved back watching as the tracking/listening device crawled into his intern's jean pocket.

As soon as Peter got out of the tower he ran. Ran through the masses of people, through empty alleys. And even though he ran quickly, when he reached the apartment complex, the clock was 7:22 pm. He chose the stairs over the elevator, mainly because he couldn't just stand still, not because he was faster.

He opened the door, bracing himself for what was to come. He knew it was going to be bad. Both of them were sitting in the kitchen. When they heard the door open aunt May got up and walked over to him. She raised her hand. Peter could physically stop her. But he couldn't. May was his only relative, she was taking care of him, and today he had let her down. He stood completely still as her hand made contact with his face.

"We do everything for you, you ungrateful, stupid brat!" she yelled. Peter put his hands behind his back and locked them together. It would be better if he wouldn't defend himself.

"How dare you disobey us?" the man he was forced to call uncle screamed from the other side of the room, "We provide for you, we work every day, tiring ourselves, and you can't get here in time to make us dinner?" He opened the cupboard in which the dishes were held and took one out, "May, darling, step aside," he said through closed teeth. She did as told. The man threw the plate at Peter, who no longer could stand still. He stepped back and fell against the wall. He slid down it and took his head in his hands. A few more cups and dishes rained over him. Making him crawl closer into himself and away from Dan. The rain stopped. The boy's hands were cut and so was his face. Tears were mixing with the blood. His body was trembling and squirming away, even though there was nowhere to go.

After a few seconds, he peeked through his hands, only to see the man approaching him angrily. After a few more, the man was luring over Peter, who was trying to be as small as possible. Dan took one of the boy's wrists and dragged him along with him. Peter didn't understand why couldn't he do anything. Why couldn't he do anything against the man, except try to get his wrist out of his huge palm and try to protest to no avail: "No, no, please no, I promise I will never be late again, please," the man didn't budge. Instead, he opened the closet door and threw Peter in. Then he locked the door from outside and left the boy in complete dark.

The walls were so close together, and they were getting closer, and the ceiling was getting closer, and there was something heavy on his lungs, he couldn't breathe. He tried to break the closet with his fists, he tried to scream but nothing came out, except a few choking sounds. The walls were eating him and so was the dark. Everything was so close. Everything was quiet, but the sound was tearing apart his ears.

And then the door opened. Peter felt the light on his closed eyes but didn't dare to open them. Instead, he tried to crawl deeper into the closet, putting his hands over his head again. He tried to be quiet, but loud sobs escaped his mouth: "I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry..." he half whispered, half cried.

Something touched his shoulder softly and a calm man's voice was heard: "It's okey, Pete, it's me Tony."

Softly? Pete? Tony? The boy looked through his arms to see Mr. Stark squatting in front of him. Slowly Peter lowered his hands.

"You can come out, Pete, they're not gonna hurt you anymore," Tony said calmly. The man waited patiently for the boy to stand on his trembling legs and almost instantly fell on Tony, who was now standing up, for support.

"Do you mind coming to the tower with me?" The man asked and Peter shook his head. They passed the broken plates on the ground, stepped out in the corridor where neighbors were staring. Instintavly Tony put a hand around Peter. They stepped into the elevator and silently waited for it to stop.

When they stepped out of the building sounds of sirens were heard. Cop cars were standing in front of the door and one of the cops was waiting for them: "Thank you, Mr. Stark, for your help, now Peter will be safe, coming with us," She said. Peter's eyes widened. Was he really going to take him away?

"No," said Tony, "Pete's coming with me, I can give him the best medical attention, the rest can wait a few days," there was no room for argument.

"Do you want to go with Mr. Stark, Peter?" the lady asked and the boy immediately nodded. She also nodded and turned away.

The pair got in the car and drove to the tower, which soon became Peter's new home.