Marvel One-Shots [NO REQUESTS]

OUT IN THE SNOW

To say that it was cold outside was such a severe understatement that it deserved a slap to the face. There was a couple of inches of snow outside, covering pretty much everything. A few children had made snowballs or snowmen, a lot of adults had cleared aths to get to work, and plenty of childish adults had drawn dicks with sticks or their footprints.

Flash stuffed his hands in his pockets. He was glad he had his thickest coat, even if it was far from his more stylish clothes. There hadn't been much time to grab much before his parents literally shoved him out of the door, locking it behind him. His own copy of the house key was inside, confiscated, and it didn't look like he was going to be let back inside anytime soon.

It was the weekend, meaning there was no chance of huddling inside Midtown for warmth and he had nowhere to go. The nearest homeless shelter was about a forty minute walk but Flash wasn't sure if he could make it that far. His face was numb, his legs were beginning to shake and struggle to continue carrying him.

His phone was out of charge, the screen black, and had been dropped as he was kicked onto the streets. Flash seriously doubted that, if he did manage to put it on charge, it would even turn on again.

The hunger was making him dizzy, his stomach hurt like hell, and he just wanted to sleep. That was all he wanted. Maybe, if he closed his eyes, he wouldn't wake up and his parents wouldn't be burdened with his existence. The more he thought about, death didn't seem too bad.

There was a store across the street, which had been closed for years with no one taking interest in buying the building, he could take shelter under. He stumbled towards the road, almost keeling over, and managed to walk as quickly as he could across, barely missing the car rushing past by an inch.

Flash ducked under the roof over the locked door and collapsed onto the stairs. He pulled the top of his coat up, hoping to warm his face, and finally let his eyelids drop. He wasn't as stupid as his parents believed him to be, Flash was well aware the chances of his lasting the night with his malnutrition in the freezing cold were slim.

His mind wandered to his actions which would live on far longer than him. He was called a bully, for good reason too, and that was one of the things he most deeply regretted. Perhaps his parents had been right about him, he ruined everything, he was a monster. He had never had any friends in Midtown that weren't assholes, they only egged him on when it came to his horrible behaviour, and he'd pushed anyone genuine away for no good reason other than his lack of trust.

"Flash?"

Any other day, he would of opened his eyes to see who was calling out his name, but he was too tired. He was slipping further and further, falling unconscious. He never even saw the familiar face sprinting towards him before he passed out.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

If Peter hadn't run out of pancake mix, he would never of found Flash seconds before he passed out in the street. Taking advantage of his super-human strength, he managed to lift his classmate and quickly walk home, careful not to slip over on the ice.

May was at an old friends, as she would be for another hour. She had been working so hard that, the moment she got a day off from her jobs, Peter refused to let her fuss over him and insisted she get back in touch with her old college roommate. When she returned, from an afternoon of great food at a restaurant, maybe a glass of wine or two, catching up with a woman who had been her closest friend, she found a random boy on her couch, unconscious, with her nephew asleep in the armchair next to him.

He had fallen asleep, tired from patrolling and school, but only after he made sure Flash didn't have a fever and was a safe temperature. Peter didn't want to wake up and immediately have to rush him to A&E.