Peter Parker... Stark?

Not Anymore

Peter sat on the side of a skyscraper, his knees pulled close to his chest. He'd positioned himself just right so that he was covered by shadow.

No one could see the tears running down his face. No one could see that he'd taken off his mask.

After Lincoln had left, he'd had to explain to Ms. Walters where Lincoln had gotten the crazy notion that Tanner was Spider-Man. Of course, she'd somehow managed to spin Peter's words into something punishable.

He never thought she would hit him, though.

"When I was your age, we were punished with this," she'd said, taking something long and flat off of the top of her office bookshelf. "I think it's about time you got what you deserve."

Peter had begged her to please don't, I'm sorry ma'am, but she stood blocking the doorway, clenching the strap and grinning as he pleaded with her.

"Hands out."

"Ms. Walters, please, I--"

"Hands. Out."

Peter had eventually hung his head and stuck his shaking hands out, palms up, in front of him. He shut his eyes, bracing himself for the pain, but after four lashes, he couldn't hold back a whimper. It felt like his hands were on fire.

"Shut up!" Ms. Walters had snapped, then lashed his hands again. Peter recoiled instinctively, drawing his hands towards his chest. A drop of blood dripped down the side of his hand and onto the carpet, which only made Ms. Walters' facial expression even more sour.

"Clean that up," she'd hissed, placing the strap back on her shelf, out of sight. Then she had tromped out of the room with a smile.

It was close to two in the morning now. Peter had been sitting on the side of the building for over an hour, watching his hands slowly heal, crying over everything he'd lost.

May had made him promise to find family, but since her death, he'd never felt more alone.

~~~

Peter was halfway through the long swing back to the orphanage when he felt the familiar sensation of his spider-sense warning him of incoming danger. He didn't hesitate before reacting, arching his back mid-swing and flipping over top of the arrow that had been shot at him. He landed gracefully on the side of a nearby building and didn't take the time to see who was shooting at him before moving.

He dodged a second arrow, then a third, then vaulted over the edge of the roof and booked it to the other side.

He was tired of fighting the Avengers, and when several repulsor blasts echoed through the night and singed the cement beneath his feet, he knew that he might have trouble getting out of this one so easily.

Nat had promised she wouldn't hold back next time, and Peter knew he'd worn the Avengers's patience thin.

So he resorted to leaping and dodging, completely relying on his spider-sense to tell him where to go and when.

Suddenly, the attacks stopped, and Peter realized that he'd accidentally backed himself into a trap. He was surrounded on all sides, and each of the Avengers had some sort of weapon pointed at his face.

"Give it up, kid," Captain America said, stepping forward, "stop this pointless fighting and take off the mask. You are surrounded. You can't win this."

"Who says I'm trying to win?" Peter asked. Before he could change his mind, he webbed the Captain's feet to the ground before using his webs to launch himself at him. The force of his attack knocked the super soldier to the ground, and he could hear Nat yelling at the others to hold their fire. They couldn't risk hitting Cap should Peter dodge out of the way.