Broken

chapter seven

TW - sexual assault, self-harm

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Peter shot up gasping as he woke from his nightmare. Frantically, he looked around trying to get his bearings. He didn't even remember falling asleep or going to his room.

"Peter? Peter, it's okay, look at me." His eyes found Harley's and he immediately calmed down a bit. Harley must've woken him up from his nightmare.

Harley sat next to him as his breathing slowed. Once he'd calmed down enough, they both laid down into their normal positions, Peter clinging to Harley.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Harley offered.

Peter hesitated, because in truth he did. He couldn't give away too many details, but he desperately wanted to talk to someone.

"There was just someone who was hurting you and– and Ned, MJ, and May," he started, his voice cracking halfway through. "And they started hurting me instead and I c-couldn't do anything about it."

Peter focused on staring at the wall behind Harley. He couldn't bring himself to meet Harley's gaze. Harley wrapped his arms around Peter tighter and rubbe his back. "I'm sorry, darlin'."

They laid together, neither bothering to say anything for a while. Peter took comfort in laying there with Harley until he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the warmth of his comforter surrounded him as his body sank down onto the comfortable mattress.

Yesterday felt normal. He didn't have to go to Skip's. He wasn't bullied by Flash. He hung out with his family and boyfriend all day, eating and watching movies. He went on patrol.

Those were the normal things he hadn't gotten to do much lately. He'd hoped today would be the same, but yesterday was just a fluke in Parker Luck.

Today on the other hand, he woke up to a text. I want you over at 2 Einstein.

He sighed and got dressed in his now familiar sweatpants and crewneck. It didn't used to be familiar. His nerdy t-shirts and jeans were familiar, but now those were foreign. Those were clothes for when he cared more.

Harley helped him make a snack since he'd slept in and missed breakfast. Peter spent the morning with everyone. Clint started some sort of game or something with Thor and Bucky. No one really knew how it worked, but it involved a lot of them running away from each other, mostly Bucky, fighting that wasn't too harsh, and pranks.

The game was amusing to watch and it continued all the way through lunch and up until he left. They asked where he was going. He answered vaguely that he was just going to hang out. That he might grab his suit and go on patrol. He doubted that though.

Skip's hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him in, just like always. The now familiar, yet repulsive feeling of his calloused hand pushing against his bruises caused dread to settle in his stomach.

How long would it be this time? How bad would it be?

He ended up staying the rest of the day and overnight. Skip didn't make him do any more than he normally did, but it didn't make him feel much better. He did choke him and hit him again though.

The next morning, he thought Skip might've wanted to keep him there for the day, but had a last-minute change of plans and let him go. That would at least explain why he looked so irritated and was reluctant to let him leave.

He was already late for school though. After taking the subway and rushing home, he sped into the building. He didn't have enough energy to run, but he hurried the best he could.