Long Days

Chapter 12

A/N: This is the most intense thing I've written, and it takes a dark turn at the end. (You didn't think I'd write two fluffy chapters in a row, did you?) Therefore,

there is a trigger warning for sexual assault in this chapter.

It's not graphic (I don't think) and characters remain fully clothed, but if you don't feel comfortable reading it, you can skip to my note at the end of the chapter where I've included a chapter summary. I've also marked the sections with asterisks (*) if you want to read around it.

This will be the only time I will do this. I'm so sorry. Hang tight, readers.

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Now on winter break and having been forced to quit his job at the café, Peter decided to try and catch up on school material. His teachers had generously decided not to assign homework over break, but a few had scheduled mid-year exams in January. Initially, Peter had complained like the rest of his classmates, but his opinions changed when he realized that they would be a good opportunity to bring up his grades. Therefore, instead of watching cartoons that night, the boy was curled up on the bottom of one of the many bunk-beds with his face pressed into a textbook.

Peter was just getting to the end of the section about women's suffrage when his book was roughly smacked out of his hands and onto the floor. "Wha‒!"

"I said 'Hey, newbie!' like ten times," justified a boy in front of Peter. He looked to be a year or two older than Peter and was surrounded by a few other teens. Like himself, the group generally sported overgrown hair if it hadn't been hacked at by one's own scissors, and their clothes were ill-fitted hand-me-downs with stray threads and occasional holes. However, unlike Peter, the teens seemed to reek of smoke and something else that Peter couldn't immediately identify.

"What do you want?" Peter asked with an edge in his voice, ignoring his recently-dubbed nickname. He had been called worse things, and he was used to getting targeted from school.

"You been here for, like, a week now, so I guess you ain't leaving any time soon, yeah?"

Peter looked down at his book on the floor. It had been about a week since he was ripped from his apartment, a week since he tried to run away, and a week since Tony promised that he wouldn't be here for very long.

"Listen, I'mma be real with you for a sec," the guy said in a low voice. He and the rest of the group proceeded to sit on Peter's bed, surrounding him as if they had been long-time best friends. "Me 'n' Dan over there saw you come in through the window the other night without making a sound. That's a real nice skill you got. We wanna help you..." He trailed off, moving his hand in a circular motion as he tried to choose effective wording.

"You're in a shit hole where no one gives a crap about you or where you go in the middle of the night," the girl to Peter's left filled in. "We want to show you how to put your talent for creeping around to better use." The others chuckled and flashed wicked grins to one another.

Peter was confused, but he didn't want to get involved with this crowd. He was also grateful that Tony made him change out of his Spider-Man suit before climbing back into the house that night. Instead of giving a direct rejection which might lead to trouble, he tried to play it off. "I don't really sneak around like that. I just got lucky that time, I guess."

Then, an older boy who hadn't sat down on the bed lunged at Peter and grabbed him by his throat, pinning him to the wall. At the same time, the attacker pointed the tip of a knife against the left side of his chest. Up close to his face, Peter could see the redness in his eyes. "I don't ask nicely like these idiots. How 'bout you do what we tell you to do or we make it look like you offed yourself by sitting on this big ol' knife?"