Power of Love (Peter Parker)

Five

Warning: may be triggering. Abuse is used in this chapter. Please read A/N at the end ❤️

After Steve left that evening, I hurried up the stairs and began packing for my adventure to Germany. It was an absurd thought to think that I was going to be joining Captain America's team in a head-on battle against Iron Man and his team. I never pictured a time when the two would become divided, nor did I ever picture a time when Steve Rogers would recruit me for his team.

It was a little after nine when my dad finally stumbled through the door. The smell of alcohol lingered on him and I knew that he had made a stop at the bar on his way home. He trudged through the hallway, his legs moving slowly, as if he was trying to seize the moment. I could hear him plop down on the couch from where I stood in the kitchen dicing up some strawberries I found in the refrigerator.

"Hadley!" My father yelled out to me. His words were slurred, but I understood what he was saying. It was upsetting to say that I had grown use to it after awhile.

"What do you need? I'm busy!" I shout back out to him, beginning to place the cut strawberries into a clear container.

"Bring me a beer!" I rolled my eyes at his demand. He had already reached his drinking capacity and there was no way I was going to allow him to indulge anymore intoxicating beverages.

"No dad. You already had enough. I'm cutting you off," I hollered to him, cutting the last few strawberries and placing them into the same container. I find a place in the fridge and put the container on the shelf. On the door I find a bottle of grape juice. I crack it open and swing the door closed. I turn around and come face to face with my drunken father. The bottle of grape juice falls from my hand and spills all over the hardwood floor. His face wore a mask of anger and his clenched hands showed a sight I had never seen before.

"What did you say to me?" His voice was hard as he spoke, and I could see his hands clenching tighter into fists.

"I said you've had enough," my voice a mixture of shakiness and a little of true panic. I didn't know what he was capable of doing to me.

"Move out of the way," he stormed towards me, his hands reaching for the refrigerator door. On impulse, my hand grabs his and I shove him back. "Dad stop," my voice is trembling now and my hands are shaking. His elbow connects with my face and my hand travels to my wound. Another blow to the face and my body fell to the ground begging for it to be over with. I could hear the refrigerator open as I lay on the floor, spitting the blood out of my mouth. I watched as it formed a puddle in front of me. I was interrupted by a sharp pain that erupted through my body. He began to kick me repeatedly before giving up and walking away, leaving me to lay on the ground in an immense amount of pain.

My hands wondered down to my pants pocket, the cold feeling of my phone causing a wave of relief to flood over me. I gripped onto it and carefully tugged it out. I quickly dialed 911 and waited for the dispatcher to answer. It felt like an eternity before someone finally picked up the phone.

"911, what is your emergency?" It was the voice of a man with a deep voice that was rather pleasing to hear.

My voice was a whisper as I spoke into the phone; I didn't want my father to hear my pleads for help. "I need help. My-my father is drunk and I, he hit me, and there is blood. There's a lot of blood. I'm on the floor and the pain is extraordinary. Please help me. Please." Tears were rolling down my face and I don't think I've ever cried this much in so long.

"What is your name and age?"
"My name is Hadley Campbell and I am sixteen years old."
"Okay, Hadley. What is your location?"
"128 Lincoln Avenue. Please hurry."
"Stay on the phone with me, Hadley. Help is on its way."
"Okay," I whispered into the phone. I started to move around the floor to see if my father was anywhere around and when I saw his shadow emerge from around the corner, I felt my heart skip a beat. Without thinking, I let a scream slip from my lips.

"Leave me alone!" I tried to kick him, but it was pointless. My body was completely useless at this point. I wouldn't be surprised at this point if he were to kill me.

"Who'd you call? You think they're going to help you. No, Hadley, they're not. You know, I blame you. If it weren't for you, your mom would still be here. It's all your fault. You killed her and now I'm going to kill you t--," my father was interrupted by a figure emerging from out of nowhere. They were dressed in a red suit from head to toe. It appeared to be detailed with black lines. There was no way to see who was beyond the suit, unless they were to take off their mask and reveal themselves. Whoever it was, I was extremely thankful for, yet confused by, because I thought I was the only superhero in Queens.

My dad stood back up, giving the person a scolding look. "Who the hell are you?" The figure held his hand out and what happened next baffled not only me but my father as well. Webs shot out at my father, trapping him against the wall.

"My name is Spider-Man." My eyebrows raised in confusion, the voice being so familiar to me, but I could not manage to put a face to it. It wasn't a man though; It was the voice of a teenage boy. The boy rushed over and crouched down beside me, his hand reaching out and moving my hair away to examine all of my injuries.

"Hadley, I'm not going to let him hurt you. The police and paramedics will be here in about a minute. I'm going to pick you up so we can meet them out there." His hands reached under me to lift me in his arms, a couple of groans spilling from my lips at the amount of pain I was experiencing.

"How do you know my name?" I whispered to him, my eyes scanning the mask of the boy. He carried me down the hallway and stopped at the door.

"Because I know who you are, plus I just heard it on the radio too." He opened to door and stepped out with me still in his arms. The sound of police cars and ambulances were heard flying down the road. When they all arrived, they jumped out and rushed towards us two. Spider-Man handed me off to the paramedics so they could get me the help I needed. I grabbed onto the boy's hand and squeezed it as tight as I could.

"Thank you, Spider-Man. You saved my life."

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A/N// Chapter five is complete. This chapter was hard to write, because it's so powerful and abuse is something that occurs everyday. Not everyone has their superhero that can just come in and save them but I just want to say this. There are so many people that are willing to help you. Please reach out to somebody if you or someone you know is going through this. As a teenager who has experienced her father past his intoxication level, I know it can be scary. Though my father has never laid a hand on me, you can never be to sure on what may happen. Because of this, I have not seen my father since. Please just remember that I am here and willing to talk to you. Stay strong loves ❤️