Bruised But Not Broken - Irondad/spiderson

Flash

My heartbeat spikes. Acid crawls up my throat as panic takes hold. I know Flash is going to make his move. I can feel it in my bones.

The class moves into an open space filled with tables, couches, and scattered seating.

"Students of Midtown," Emma says, smiling easily. "This is the cafeteria. We have organised meals for everyone. Find a place to sit, and food will be handed out shortly."

My eyes lock onto the bathroom sign across the room.

I do not wait.

I slip away as food is passed out, my hands shaking. The door swings shut behind me, and the noise dulls instantly. I barely make it to the sink before nausea crashes through me.

I lean over, gagging, chest heaving.

Cold water splashes against my face as I turn the tap. I let it run down my neck, soaking into my collar. My reflection stares back at me, pale and wide-eyed.

Then another reflection appears behind me.

Flash.

My heart slams hard enough to hurt. I spin and try to dart past him.

He grabs my shoulder and throws me down.

My body hits the tile with a sharp crack. Pain explodes through my side as my breath punches out of me in a broken wheeze. Flash crouches low, looming over me. His breath is hot and sickly sweet.

"You cannot escape me, loser," he sneers.

Fear and rage crash together inside my chest. I know I cannot fight him. Not here. Not like this.

"You think you can work here, Penis?" he growls.

His foot slams into my side.

Something cracks.

Freshly healed ribs give way with a wet, sickening sound. A scream rips out of me before I can stop it.

"Arghh!"

He kicks again.

And again.

Full force into my stomach. My vision blurs. Bile burns my throat. I gag and cough, choking on air that will not come fast enough.

Flash rolls me onto my back with his shoe.

He looks down at me like I am nothing. Like prey.

"You think you're so clever."

His fist slams into my cheek.

White light bursts behind my eyes. Pain radiates through my skull, sharp and overwhelming. Blood floods my mouth.

"Good luck making an impression here," he sneers, "when you're crying on the bathroom floor like a baby."

His fist crashes down one last time.

Something cracks.

Everything goes black.

Ned

Peter gets up suddenly and rushes toward the bathroom.

I frown but stay seated as food is handed out. Duty calls, I guess. He has not been eating much lately.

I eat slowly, still buzzing from everything we have seen today. This place is incredible. I overhear Emma telling Mr. Harrington that we will be heading to the intern office next. There will be a demonstration, and anyone interested can take a test while others wait outside.

I wish Peter were here.

He deserves this more than anyone I know.

Once, I watched him build an automated tooth brushing system out of string, marbles, and rubber bands. It actually worked.

My phone buzzes with a message from my mom asking if the trip is going well. I smile and text back that everything is amazing.

When I look up again, Peter is still not back.

I stand.

I should check on him.

A hand taps my shoulder. Emma gestures for us to follow her. We are heading to the intern office.

Peter probably feels sick, I tell myself. He will catch up.

But the thought sits wrong in my chest.

The intern office is huge. Screens glow along the walls. Fans hum overhead. Everything feels important and intimidating. Emma introduces us to a group of interns working on different projects.

They show us their inventions. A robot that folds laundry. A smart fridge that orders groceries.

Then another one.

A mental health robot.

It sits quietly on the table, soft lights glowing. The interns explain how it keeps people company. How it encourages small tasks when everything feels overwhelming.

My throat tightens.

Peter would love this.

After the demonstration, Emma explains the test. I take it, hands shaking, brain buzzing. The questions are hard, but I try.

When I finish, I look around.

Peter never made it.

That is not like him.

Something is wrong.

Out in the hallway, Flash is laughing loudly with his friends, shoving them around. I walk straight to Mr. Harrington.

"Peter's been gone for a while," I say. "He went to the bathroom during lunch."

Mr. Harrington sighs.

"Do not worry about Parker," he snaps. "As long as he is not causing trouble, he can do whatever he wants."

My stomach drops.

"He could be hurt," I say. "Can I go check on him?"

"No," he says sharply. "Get back in line. Parker is enough of a mess on his own."

He herds me forward with the rest of the group.

It has been over two hours.

As we walk through the Arc Reactor history room, I barely see any of it. Emma keeps glancing around, counting heads.

I pull her aside.

"Miss Emma," I whisper. "Peter ran to the bathroom at lunch and never came back. Mr. Harrington would not let me check on him."

Her face drains of colour.

"That was nearly three hours ago," she says quietly. "And your teacher did not tell me?"

She lifts her wrist.

"FRIDAY, locate Peter Parker. Guest badge. Level One."

I hold my breath.

Seconds later, she nods sharply.

"Thank you for telling me," she says. "Stay with the group. We will handle this."

Relief floods through me, followed immediately by fear.

I rejoin the class, but my eyes keep drifting toward every doorway.

Please be okay, Peter.

Please.