It's Peter. - Trans!Peter Parker

Chapter Three

It's been a good year and a half. Loads has happened since then. First things first, I was bitten by a spider than then made me super powerful and stuff? So that was super awesome. I became Spider-Man, a superhero.

Then the craziest thing happened. Tony Stark, as in the Tony Stark, had approached me to fight with him. I got a really good suit, made by him. The only problem was I don't think he knows I'm trans, because it's really difficult to fight while wearing the binder and a suit. And if I don't wear the binder, well, the suit is skin tight...

I know you're not really supposed to wear binders while doing difficult exercise, and you should only wear it for like nine-ten hours, but... I can't not wear it during patrol, and I have to wear it during school, so... see my problem?

I also fought this vulture guy. Yeah, the worst part of the fight was either when he was slamming me repeatedly against the ground or when I was trapped under a huge pile of building. Both were not ideal.

Something else happened. It was... it was bad, it didn't happen too long ago. Only like a month ago.

One of the villains I had put in prison? Yeah, he escaped. He went to our apartment, and I was out on patrol. I should have been there, but I wasn't, I was on stupid patrol. But when I got back, I was met with Aunt May's dead body.

I didn't know what to do. First Uncle Ben, now Aunt May. Both blood on my hands.

I did the smart thing, AKA the stupidest thing I could have thought of, I ran away. I packed my suit, extra clothes, and other necessities into a bag and ran. I couldn't stop. I couldn't bear to be there anymore.

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I was on the streets for a good two weeks. School had already been out when May... when the incident happened, and so I didn't have to worry about homework or getting there on time. But the main pain was when I would try to wash my binder. I didn't have enough money to buy another one, and putting it in the washer would degrade the lifespan by a lot.

I tried to go on patrol as often as I could, but my ribs were acting up, and not being able to afford much food wasn't helping my energy levels.

You guys are probably saying to your screens right now, 'Peter, why not just go to Mr. Stark? He has loads of money and he's pretty cool!' but I can't. I can't look him in the eyes and say, 'hey Mr. Stark, so funny story! Aunt May died because of me and I'm homeless now. Could you spare some money?" then watch as he too gazes at me in disappointment.

"Hey kid, what are you doing back here," I hear from behind me. I was behind a building, I wasn't sure which one since I hadn't cared to look. I turn around and see a Police Officer with his hands by his sides, one hand resting on his baton.

"I was just, um, trying to find somewhere to sit for a while," I say, hoping he wouldn't see my backpack and see how obviously homeless I was.

"Where do you live young man," the officer asked me. I faltered but pointed up the street a ways, but I guess he saw through the lie, "Young man, I'm taking you down to the station."

"What! Why," I asked, backing away from him.

"You're obviously a homeless underaged civilian. I am authorized to bring you to a home."

"No, really, I'm fine," I protested.

"Young man I will have to resort to force," the policeman said, tightening his grip on his baton. I was breathing heavily. I didn't want to go to an orphanage, or foster care or whatever, I didn't want to go anywhere. But I had nowhere else to go, unless... No, I wouldn't go to Mister Stark. I don't want to let him down or be a burden or whatever.

I silently slipped into the backseat of his police car and he drives us to the station.