Still Peter Parker (One Shots)

Helpless

TW knife and like mugging i guess

He was late, again. But then again when wasn't he late. In his defence, the bus had been earlier than usual, and he had burnt his toast, and then accidentally warped the toaster in a totally unrelated incident than had to do with his crispy breakfast and all to do with a fly and an incessant buzzing noise.

So, now he ran, with a piece of toast in his mouth and running to catch up with the bus that was zooming away. For New York traffic, it would usually not even go a few feet before stopping, yet today the traffic moved seamlessly and the bus was long gone.

He could, in theory, swing his way to school in his Spider-Man suit, but the issue with that was he had run out the web formula late last night (or earlier this morning, depending on if you consider 5 am in the morning of the current day or night of the previous). So, Peter Parker, with his Parker Luck, would be running to school considering he had also lost his MetroCard the week before.

Of course, Peter couldn't have a regular jog to school, no, he needed to have a terrible start to the day with a terrible walk to school.

See, it all started with Peter cutting through an alley on his way to school, alleyways are the best shortcuts, and if he wanted to get to school in time for American Literature he had to use shortcuts. And in New York, well any place really, going through alleys as a scrawny sixteen-year-old has its risks. And it just so happened that Peter had run the gamble of using the alleyways and lost.

"What are you doing sneaking through the alleys, huh, kid?" an ominous voice boomed throughout the alley, and a tall, bulky silhouette to match loomed in the corner.

Peter startled and his Spidey Senses (or Peter Tingle as Aunt May had lovingly dubbed it) started to fire causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. This was not good, someone was going to get hurt, and Peter couldn't shake the feeling that it would be him wrapped in bandages later tonight instead of the man in front of him.

The men stepped out of the shadows, and Peter registered the tall man to be wearing ragged jeans and a ripped up shirt. He slowly approached Peter, his feet dragging on the hot concrete as his footsteps thundered, each loud thump getting him closer and closer to Peter.

"Uhh, sorry sir, I was just on my way to school you see-" Peter struggled to answer as his senses went into overdrive making every step he made too loud, and the sun too bright, and his shirt too scratchy, and the scent of the dumpster a couple of streets down too pungent. Everything was just too much.

"I don't care whatcha was doin," the man snarled, leaning closer as Peter's heart rate started to pick up. Despite being a hero at night, roaming the streets as Spider-Man and kicking evil's ass, as Peter Parker though, he was just a kid, a kid going to Midtown High School, a kid on the debate team, a kid who got bullied daily.

Out of the suit, he was nothing.

Nothing but a scared little kid.

So when the man pulled out a rusted pocket knife and held it to Peter's throat, Peter did not move. He didn't fight, he didn't run, he didn't do anything. Instead, he froze and let the man take his wallet and phone and let him take out Peter's homework and throw it on the mud ridden ground.

Parker Luck. The Fates had it out for him, and who was he to go against the gods? So, Peter stood there, blade pressed against his skin, and silently watched it happen. And when the man was done, and when he angrily spat on Peter's face and laughed before disappearing, Peter just grabbed his things and started to jog just a tad faster than a normal human could,

It wasn't till he was almost at school did Peter realize he was crying. It was stupid really, tears wasted over his lunch money and old beaten up cellphone that he knew Mr Stark would replace. But it wasn't the things he lost to the man, no, not really. It was the sense of helplessness that he hadn't felt since a building was dropped on him. A sense of overwhelming fear with the knowledge he couldn't do something at the risk of his secret identity.

Angrily, he wiped the tears away and stopped at the corner before the school. He brushed off his clothes and a voice in his head whispered: "that's right, as Spider-Man you were strong and untouchable, but as Peter- well that's all you'll ever be, helpless, a target for others to hurt."

And he couldn't shake the feeling that the voice was right. Peter Parker was helpless and there was nothing he could ever do about it.

-=-

I am here to break your hearts with angst, was written hastily though so who knows if it was good.

Hope you all enjoyed it though!

-SecretsInMyHead