Not Anymore

Chapter 5: The Mouth Moves Faster Than The Brain [Peter Parker's POV]

I followed the man tentatively, nervous of what he was going to do to me. A cage wrapped itself in my chest, closing in and creating this intense pressure like feeling in my heart. I felt terrified that he was taking me somewhere to hurt him. And then he didn't.

I was told to take a seat in one of the chairs as the man, Mr. Tony Stark Sir himself, went over to the kitchen and started to whip something together.

[Something is the key word because it looks like this man has no idea on how to properly cook.]

Someone started shouting in the background, but a quick word from Mr. Stark sir made the voice shut up and move on, with only a soft grumbling trailing behind it.

"Don't know if this is what you wanted, but a grilled cheese sandwich is the only thing I know how to make," Mr. Stark sir said to me, pushing a plate in my direction with two sandwiches on it. I know that with my metabolism, I should typically be eating roughly six or seven of these triangles. But who was I to complain? I have barely eaten in the past few days I spent on the streets. I tried stealing money, but it's hard taking the green bills from kind looking people.

[Who was I to know about kindness? I have never experienced it and I have never shown it. Rule number four: show no mercy. A fear of punishment forced that into my head and now I can pull the trigger without a second thought.]

"Thank you so much Mr. Stark sir," I mumbled, looking down. I couldn't see the face he made but, for some reason, I felt like he was angry at me. Hesitantly, I grabbed the edges of the plate and pulled it closer to me before he could take the food away.

I bit into the sandwich carefully, not really sure what to expect. I never received foods with colors back in Hydra. I received gray gruel and that only. I saw the soldiers and the real people eating real people food, though, once. Real people food that had color. I was told I was worthless. Nothing. I did not deserve that.

The sandwich was a light brown on the outside with bright yellow trickling down from the sides. It tasted glorious. It was so tasty and so good. There were not that many different flavors that triggered a sensory overload, something that I absolutely hated but my trainers would forcibly inflict on me as a source of punishment, but it was still absolutely delightful. I started scarfing down and quickly finished the two sandwiches in a solid minute and two seconds flat.

I quickly finished chewing and swallowed down the sandwiches that I practically inhaled. I took a second to catch my breath, a small smile tugging in the corner of my lips.

"Thank you so much, sir, the grilled cheese sandwich was amazing," I mumbled back. He still has not spoken a word, but looked at me curiously. Carefully, I lifted up my head to look him in the eye and see his facial expression. Was this all just a trick? Was he trying to lure me in and then hurt me? Was Hydra right? Was this man really the bad guy?

"You're not in trouble," the man finally said, breaking into laughter. "By that terrified expression on your face, you would think that you thought I was going to kill you."

I merely blinked, not really sure what to do with that statement. It was neither an order or command or anything in between. Simply a statement with no practical value to me.

"I'm not mad at you. You just looked really, really hungry. I can make you more if you want. Young growing boys need a lot of food."

"No sir, I don't need any more food. Thank you again sir," I just mumbled in return.

"Drop the sir, kid! And, well, if that's enough for you, I can call Happy to drive you home because I've got to head back down to my lab and get so—" Mr. Stark started to say but stopped when he got a look at the perked up expression on my face when hearing the word lab.