Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

You're here in my arms (and I'll never let you go)

(Not Spiderman+ someone wanted me to write a fic about child predators and this kinda happened around my school, so trigger warning and stay safe. But Peter’s okay, he just gets scared. + this bitch had two panic attacks over the past week- one for overthinking and one about commas lets gOOO) 
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Peter “Parker” Stark-Rogers hummed a tune that matched the song streaming from his earbuds, swinging his backpack over his other shoulder to evenly distribute the bag’s weight. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked from MidTown High to the Avengers Tower, which also happened to be where he lived with his Dads Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. 

The air was brisk and spring’s scent filled Peter’s airways as the sun shone radiantly over the people of the world. A feeling of joy and carelessness was contagious as Peter felt his lips curve upwards into a smile. 

But nothing lasts forever. 

About fifteen minutes into his way home, Peter felt his chest drop. His pace automatically quickened by force of habit, and he removed one earbud from his ear. The off feeling only grew stronger the more Peter continued to walk. 

He pretended to read the graffiti on the walls of the cafe adjacent to him. He spotted an oddly dressed man wearing an oversized black hoodie and black pants walking in the same direction as him, and was exactly seven feet away from him. 

Peter quickly faced forward and quickened his pace, worry inching throughout his body. Something felt suspicious about the man, and was most likely dangerous. 

Peter didn’t want to jump to conclusions, at least not until he was three thousand percent sure of what he hoped wasn’t being implied. He gulped as he realized that there wasn’t anyone else on the streets around him, and Peter thickly swallowed, Adam’s Apple bouncing. He curled his fingers over the edge of his phone, trying to ground himself before a panic attack could get a hold of him. 

Peter sucked in a breath and spurred himself to walk faster and discreetly, periodically checking to see if the stranger was still following him. 

Ten minutes later when Peter turned around, the man was still following him. The words of his Health teacher rang in his head, Some sick people are child predators. They’re usually and almost always pedophiles, and they usually go after kids walking alone, typically before and after school. They follow you to see where you live and then the next day or even later that day they make their move.

Peter gulped as he felt his chest seize and his fingers tremble. Two signs that he was close to diving headfirst into a panic attack. 

He turned around and accidentally made eye contact with the hooded man who sickly smiled sweetly at him. Peter quickly threw his head forward as his heart lurched and beatted so loud, the teenager was sure that the creep could hear it. 

The Stark-Rogers felt extremely helpless as dozens of scenarios played in his head. He couldn’t go inside, the man would surely follow him and trap him there. He felt his vision blur, he needed his Dads. He quickly dialed his Papa’s number, praying to Odin, Thor, Hela, Loki, every single god/goddess he could think of from Norse Mythology that his Papa would pick up. His Dad was at important business meeting and he didn’t want to disturb him. 

Luckily, Steve answered. Peter heard Steve’s voice ask with slight concern, “Peter? Is something wrong? You don’t really call after school.”

Peter quickly breathed out, “Papa, someone’s following me, since I got out of school.” He felt like crying, “I’m scared, Papa.”

Steve spoke softly yet in a grounding tone, “Hey, Peter. Breathe. You did the right thing calling either me or your Dad. First step is breathing. I know you’re panicking, but you think you can hold off on that until you get home?”