Bad day?

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Summary: Peter's having a very bad day. But maybe, just maybe, at the end of the day it isn't as bad as he first thought it was.

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Peter wasn't having a great day, per say. Flash had been mocking him the whole day, he had missed a class for an important robbery happening nearby, in which he was also hurt with no one to help him, and then he had lost his backpack (and his phone that had been in it) again.

He tried hard to look happy as he entered the car Tony always sent to pick him up.

"Hi, Happy!" Peter said, hoping- begging internally that the man wouldn't shut him off that day. He really needed someone, anyone.

The divider rolled up.

Peter looked down in sadness, holding back tears.

What had he done wrong? He couldn't think of anything that explained why Flash was so hateful, or why his teacher was so harsh after he came bleeding into class after no one picked up the phone to help him, or why people kept stealing his bag every time he went out of his way to save their asses, or why Happy didn't give him a second chance when he tried his best.

His bleak thoughts accompanied him the whole way to Stark Towers.

"Thank you, Happy," Peter said, though he knew Happy wasn't listening.

The teen made his way through the front gate and headed to the private elevator, only to be stopped by a new guard.

"You can't be here."

Peter looked down. He wanted to cry. "I'm supposed to be."

"This is not a place to joke around, kid. You need to leave."

He looked at the guard, his eyes shining but not in his usual way, before sighing and lightly pushing him to the side. He scanned his badge and hand, and the screen lit up in green. The guard seemed taken aback and a bit scared, but Peter didn't look back at him (nor up, actually) as he went inside the elevator and let Friday take him to the penthouse.

The elevator doors opened up to show the penthouse, as expected, but no one in it.

"Is anyone in here?" Peter called out, directing his question both at the empty space and to Friday.

"There's no one currently in the penthouse, Peter," the AI contributed.

Peter looked down once again. "Is Mr. Stark in his lab?"

There was a pause.

"Mr. Stark is not in the building."

A single tear made its way down Peter's left cheek.

"Okay," he said weakly. "That's okay."

Defeatedly, he sat down on the couch, wondering if he was even supposed to be there at all.

•××ו

It had been two hours before anyone appeared at the penthouse.

Peter lay on the couch; he had cried himself to sleep. And that's how the Avengers found him.

"Hi, Pete!" Clint said brightly, though he seemed tired.

"Hey, маленький паук," Nat said softly.

They all greeted him with happiness and affection, but they had yet to see his tear stained face and bloody shirt.

"Hi," was the Peter's slightly broken response. "Was I supposed to come today?"

They looked at each other in confusion before noticing the teen's appearance and gaping for half a second.

Natasha run to his side, immediately cutting his shirt to see and attend the wound as she frantically asked, "Is everything okay? Peter, what happened?"

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