Runaway | Peter Parker angsty fic

Home. - Chapter 14

Tw: implied sewerside attempt, vomiting

He sat on the roof again, this time a cigarette in his mouth. A whole day had gone by and he didn't know. The sun was painting the sky with its oranges again. Why hadn't he notice the time going by? And he was hungry. Extremely hungry.

His thigh still hurt and so did the rest of his body for that matter but his cigarette made it kinda better. Most people would've gone to the hospital by now but he should've been healed up by now. Why did it still hurt?

He rolled his eyes as he heard a scream.

He sat up drenched in sweat and blood. His stomach growled from it's emptiness and his body screamed in pain from its wounds. The cut on his thigh was gone but new cuts and bruises just replaced it. He didn't know what day it was or how long he'd been out. It's clear someone else control's his body when he's unconscious. Is he possessed? As he ever messed with the occult? Or maybe it's just that voice. The weeping one.

"Hey, crying person!" He calls out into his mind but no to no avail. Maybe he can try again later. For now, try to get something to ease the pain.

After stumbling around in the streets, he found a convenient store. Apon entering, the employee there looks stund to see him.

"Spida-man? In Jersey City?" She says in shock. "Wait no, ya're probably just some kid with a costume on, a homeless one at that" She reasoned.

"What? No I am Spider-man" He argued and shot a web even though he felt like he was lieing. Why did he feel like that? "Look, I don't have any money right now but I just really need some pain killers or something"

"Are ya really Spida man? Prove it." She said in all seriousness.

"I just did, did you not see the web?" He responded.

"Pick something up with it and climb on the wall" She demanded.

He sighed and slung his web out to a near by shelf, grabbing a bag of chips from it. The bag come flying back towards him and he caught it with ease. Next he walked over to the small store's walls and climbed them, dangling from the ceiling for a bit before hopping down.

"Alright, Spida-man get whateva it's on the house" She said excitedly as she returns to her phone.

As he's looking for pain killers, a thought crossed his mind. No, not a thought, a memory.

His parents. They had just brought out a cake. The cake for his fourth birthday, it had a giant number four on it. They were singing.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you" They set the cake down on the table. "Happy birthday dear Ben. Happy birthday to you"

With that he blew out the candles.

Ben? Why did they call him Ben, that was his uncle's name? That didn't matter right now, he needed some pain meds. His stomach growled. Maybe food wasn't a bad idea also.

"Hey lady, would it also be okay for me to get some food and water?" He asked from acrossed the store.

"Oh yeah its all on me"

With that, he got 5 bottles of ibuprofen, ten premade sandwiches, and a few small cases of water bottles. The lady rang it up and paid for it with her card. She also threw in a bag for him to carry it all in and a med kit, which he was thankful for. Peter went into that shop fully prepared to steal but thankfully, he didn't have too.

He put the bag on his back and started swinging back up to the building he's sleeping on when he heard a scream.

4 days. He hadn't been awake for 4 days. He only new from a radio someone was blasting from the street below. His body ached in pain but all the bottles of pain pills he could find were empty, there were even new ones but they were all gone. He's stomach twisted and turned. Had he not eaten? There were still 7 sandwiches left. So he hadn't eaten much at all. But this sickness felt different. He reached over the side of the building and-

Blugh. All over the luckily empty ally way below. Why was he sick? Shouldn't his body not be able to get sick like this?

Unless it was- no, he would've remembered if he tried to do... that. He, he couldn't of. He must be sick from not eating enough. Yeah, that. He knew he was going through a tough time but it wouldn't come to that. Nope, never.

He had no time to think as his weakened body reacted to a scream.

Peter was growing tired of this song and dance. He stared at the sun and the sun stared back as his only companion. Not even that crying voice came around a lot. Maybe because he wasn't crying. He wasn't angry or sad, just bored and annoyed.

He wanted to go back home but he felt he didn't have one to go back too. He had Aunt May's place, why can't he go back to her? Something tells him something bad happened but he doesn't know what. Was aunt may hurt? Why did he run away? Or was he kicked out? Did she find out he's been stealing her cigarettes? Is that why he got kicked out? Or did aunt may- no, there's no way she died. She has so much to live for.

Fine, aunt May's off the table. Maybe Mr. Stark? He also felt like something bad happened there. Did he get fired? Or forgotten? Or did they find out about things? They'd probably think he was weak if they knew. Or maybe they found out about spider-man and they're trying to get him to quick? Whatever the reason, it's off limits. Jersey City is the only place that feels like home and now he protects it. At least, that's what he thinks he's doing.

As day turned into night, Peter couldn't sleep. He felt lonely but there was no one for him to talk too. He wanted nothing more than to sleep on an actual bed for once. This thought sparked a memory.

He sat in a cold, hard room. The walls were painted a light blue with faint childish designs on it. The four year old traced one of the old designs with his finger as he waited for something to happen. He sat on a hard slab covered in a single blanket. He just wanted to sleep on a real bed again.

He looked up at the door across the room from him. Outside, he could see people moving around through a small window in the door. Right next to the door he saw the words 'Jersey City'.

An: btw if you couldn't tell by now but I do not go back and read what I wrote before I publish anything