Peter Parker... Stark?

Powerless

Peter huddled with the other boys around the orphanage's small TV as Tony Stark addressed the restless crowd of journalists vying for his attention. Finally he waved his hands and waited for the noise to die down before speaking.

"It has been decided that the Rogue Avengers are to be relocated from the Raft to Avengers Tower. I don't know who made that decision or why, but on Tuesday the Avengers Tower will be home to most of the Avengers once more."

Peter frowned. Despite the friendly wording, it was clear that Tony was not at all happy that the Rogues were coming back. His words were clipped and forced, and he held the podium in a white-knuckle grip. Colonel Rhodes and Pepper were standing in the background of the conference with equally disapproving looks on their faces as the antsy reporters spouted questions once more.

Suddenly, the TV switched off, and the boys all whipped around to see an agitated Ms. Walters standing behind them with the remote in hand.

"It's past your bedtime. All your bedtimes," she said with a scowl, "Go!" All the boys jumped up and ran upstairs, almost trampling over each other as they scrambled to obey Ms. Walters.

Lincoln, the youngest of the group and easily the most envied, tripped on his way up the stairs and skinned a knee. Peter, who was the last one to the stairs, quickly dropped to comfort him.

Lincoln had big blue eyes and soft dirty blonde hair. He was only four years old, and Ms. Walters doted on him like there was no tomorrow. Many of the older boys blatantly ignored him. His presence was a constant reminder that no one would want them while Lincoln was there.

"It-it hurts!" Lincoln whimpered. Peter hugged the boy to his chest and gently rubbed his back.

"Shhh, hey, it's alright. It's only a little scratch. If we put a Bandaid on it, it will feel better in no time!" Lincoln took a couple gasping breaths before nodding and wiping the tears off his face with a balled fist.

Peter lifted Lincoln into his arms and turned to keep going up the stairs when Ms. Walters' shrill voice echoed up the stairwell.

"Peter! What have you done?" Peter turned to face her, confused and more than a little frightened as she stormed up the stairs and wrenched the boy from his arms, eliciting a wail of disdain from the four year old.

"That's it! You've gone too far, Parker! Hurting a child?"

"Ms. Walters, please, I didn't hurt him! He tripped and-"

"Enough!" she shrieked. "You are now responsible for both Tanner's and Robert's chores for the next two weeks! If you don't get them done, you will start missing meals as well. Is that clear?"

Peter stared at her, shocked at the unfairness of it all. "But I didn't-"

"Make that a month!" Peter closed his eyes as her signature spray of spit cascaded towards his face, and when he opened them again she was already making her way downstairs with Lincoln clutched tightly to her chest.

"There, there," she cooed, "don't be frightened. Peter won't hurt you anymore."

Peter fled up the stairs, tears streaming down his face. Tanner and Robert threw him sympathetic glances as he stormed into their shared bedroom and flung himself into bed. Their pity only served to make him angrier.

I'm Spider-Man, for crying out loud, and I can't even stand up for myself against an old fat lady. Even with the spider bite, I'm powerless here. Peter wanted to take back his thoughts the minute they entered his mind, but he couldn't deny the truth in them.

I'm powerless here.

I'm powerless here.

I'm powerless here.