~Iron Family~

Please. I Eat Shields for Breakfast.

IMPORTANT: The next few chapters are very dark, depressing, and there are less jokes.
TW for abuse, panic attacks, blood, trauma, and violence.
I'm not going to put a warning before every chapter, so if you are sensitive to these things please stop reading or skip over these next few chapters until the one titled Honey, Look What I Brought Home. After that point it will go back to being ridiculously humorous.
It will not get any darker than this.

Thank you, stay safe :)

***

Peter's self-ban on Spider-Man lasted two days.

After having to walk to and from school every day, getting his lunch stolen, and not getting a welcome-to-school greeting by a single person, staff or student, he decided to go blow off some steam. One little swing wouldn't hurt, right?

Oh, it hurt. It hurt real bad.

The Avengers were seemingly waiting for him. He rounded a corner, and boom--straight into Captain America's shield.

While he was trying to blink the red and blue stars out of his eyes, Iron Man used the opportunity to try and taze him. A little chip, buzzing with faint electricity Peter guessed only he could hear, zipped by a centimeter from his neck.

"What the--"

"Language!" Captain interrupted from the street. Peter clung to the wall of a building, gazing down at him below. Iron Man was coming at him again, and his whole body screamed for him to move.

He sprung straight up in the air, a good twenty feet, and clumsily landed on the roof of the building. He didn't stop there, though--he sprinted to the edge and jumped right off on the opposite side, firing webs and swinging out of there.

He went as fast as he could, but Iron Man was faster. He eventually caught up to him, flying neck-and-neck as if to taunt him.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Mr. Stark's voice yelled over the whooshing wind in Peter's ears. Peter kept his jaw clamped shut, afraid he might start talking and Mr. Stark would recognize his voice.

"Please just come in peacefully. We don't want to fight you."

"Me either!" Peter squeaked, making a sudden sharp left turn. He could hear Iron Man's thrusters slow as he adjusted his flight path. An idea sparked in his mind.

He could make tighter turns than Mr. Stark could, simply because Mr. Stark's suit had more power and speed.

That's how he could escape.

The tactic worked--sort of. He put on bursts of speed that left his arms aching each time he turned a corner, zipping through the streets and in and out of buildings, making a complex web of things.

Eventually Iron Man's blasters faded behind him, but he knew that was only temporary. He shot himself like a bullet to the ground and ran for his life through the busy morning pedestrian traffic, throwing himself into the nearest busy store.

It was a children's clothing store that was having a start-of-fall sale, so it was packed with moms trying to fit their crying kids into turtlenecks and vests. There were some startled yelps as he sprinted to the back of the store where a bright neon sign read DRESSING ROOMS.

Peter darted into the only unoccupied space and unzipped his outer red hoodie, shoving it into his backpack. He slipped off his red shoes and long red socks, grimacing as his bare feet touched the freezing floor. He dropped his backpack on the ground and frantically dug around for his clothes.

After catching a glimpse of his face in the mirror, he stifled a groan. There was a huge black-and-blue bruise that highlighted around his eye socket, covering his cheek and around to his jaw. Great. That would sure attract attention.