His Protective Dad (Starker FF)

The Fight He Didn't Fight

The day had been a blur of classes, teasing from Wade, and the usual routine. Peter was looking forward to gym class being over so he could hang out with MJ and the rest of the group. As the bell rang, signaling the end of the previous period, Peter made his way to the locker room to change into his gym clothes.

When he entered the gym, it was almost empty. Most of the students were still in the locker room or milling about, waiting for the class to officially start. Peter saw an opportunity to practice a few basketball shots before the rest of the group showed up. He grabbed a ball and started dribbling, zoning out in the empty space.

But that moment of peace didn’t last long.

“Look who it is. Practicing for the big leagues, Parker?”

Peter’s heart sank as he heard Flash’s voice echo through the gym. He turned and saw Flash walking toward him, Brad and a few of their friends trailing behind him like a pack of hyenas. Peter quickly glanced around—no one else had arrived yet, and they were alone in the gym.

Peter sighed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Flash, I’m not in the mood. Just leave me alone.”

Flash chuckled darkly, tossing his backpack to the side as he closed the distance between them. “Leave you alone? Why would I do that? You’re my favorite target, Parker.”

Peter tightened his grip on the basketball, trying to keep his cool. He could handle this—he’d dealt with Flash before. But something felt different this time. There was a look in Flash’s eyes, something more hostile than usual.

Flash stepped right into Peter’s space, knocking the ball out of his hands and shoving him backward with a force that made Peter stumble. Peter could have stood his ground easily, could have brushed off Flash’s shove like it was nothing—but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not if he wanted to keep his powers a secret.

“Come on, Parker,” Flash sneered, “what’s the matter? Too weak to stand up for yourself?”

Before Peter could respond, Brad and the others stepped in, circling around him like predators. Brad shoved Peter hard from behind, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the gym floor. Peter’s palms scraped against the hardwood, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay calm. He could handle this.

“You’re such a freak, Parker,” Brad said, looking down at him with disgust. “Always hanging around with the popular kids like you belong with them. But we know the truth. You’re just a loser.”

Peter slowly got to his feet, dusting himself off. His instincts screamed at him to fight back, to put an end to this, but he couldn’t. Not like this. If he used his strength, even a little, it would raise too many questions. So he stayed silent, hoping they’d get bored and leave.

But they didn’t.

Flash’s fist came out of nowhere, slamming into Peter’s stomach with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Peter doubled over, gasping for air, but still, he didn’t retaliate. The pain was sharp, but he’d felt worse before. He could handle this.

“Look at you,” Flash taunted, circling around Peter like a vulture. “Pathetic. You’re weak, Parker. You don’t belong here. Why don’t you go crawl back into whatever hole you came from?”

Peter’s head was spinning, but he managed to straighten up, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. He could feel the anger bubbling inside him, but he forced it down, clenching his fists at his sides.

Flash wasn’t done. He shoved Peter again, harder this time, sending him crashing into the bleachers. Peter winced as his back hit the metal bars, but he still didn’t fight back. He couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of these guys.

Brad stepped forward, grabbing Peter by the collar of his shirt and yanking him to his feet. “You think you’re better than us, don’t you, Parker? Hanging out with Stark’s kid and acting like you’re one of the cool ones.”

Peter didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His mind was racing, trying to figure out how to get out of this without revealing too much. He could take all of them down in seconds if he wanted to—but that wasn’t an option.

Flash stepped in again, slamming his fist into Peter’s ribs this time. Peter grunted in pain, but he refused to give Flash the satisfaction of a reaction. He knew what Flash wanted, and he wasn’t going to give it to him.

“You’re nothing, Parker,” Flash hissed, his voice low and venomous. “Just a weak little nerd who doesn’t know when to quit.”

The punches kept coming—Brad, Flash, and the others taking turns landing blows. Peter took every hit, forcing himself not to flinch, not to react. It wasn’t the physical pain that hurt the most—it was the frustration of knowing that he could end this in an instant, but couldn’t. Not without revealing who he really was.

After what felt like an eternity, Flash finally stepped back, wiping his hands on his pants as if Peter had dirtied him.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Flash said with a satisfied smirk. He turned to his friends, motioning for them to follow him. “Come on, guys. I think we’ve made our point.”

Brad gave Peter one last shove, sending him sprawling to the floor again before following Flash out of the gym. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Peter alone in the silent gym, the sound of their laughter echoing in the distance.

Peter lay there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, his body aching from the beating. He clenched his jaw, swallowing the anger and humiliation that burned in his chest. He could have fought back. He could have stopped them. But at what cost?

Slowly, he pushed himself up, wincing as he stood. His ribs hurt, his face stung from where Flash had hit him, and he was sure there would be bruises later. But he could handle it. He always did.

As Peter limped over to his locker to grab his bag, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his double life pressing down on him. Being Spider-Man came with responsibilities, but being Peter Parker meant keeping those powers in check. And sometimes, that was the hardest battle of all.

With a deep breath, Peter gathered his things and walked out of the gym, hoping no one would notice the pain he was hiding beneath the surface.