Scars

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Spooktober.21


a/n: figured I wouldn't write anything with death in it this time 😌


⚠️TW: battle scars, wounds, mentions of blood and scars⚠️



"That's so cool!" One of Peter's classmates laughs. "I've got a scar on my elbow. I got it from skateboarding into a tree."

Peter remained quiet during the entire discussion. He didn't have any interest in actually contributing, but he couldn't help but imagine how his classmates would react if the saw the scars from fighting painted all over his body.

Just the other day he had gotten stitches for a particularly nasty cut that came from being thrown into the edge of a building. It stretched across his left shoulder, and all thought it would heal just fine, it would definitely leave a thin white sliver from where the cut used to bleed.

"I got a scar on my pinky finger," one girl says with amusement. "It's because a cat scratched me when I was a kid."

Peter doesn't have any scars on his hands. His hands are instead what get calloused from the constant pull of a web. His knuckles are bruised in ugly purples every night, begging to be soothed with ice once he gets home.

His hands were bruised green this morning, so they were covered lightly in foundation before he left the house. While the pencil usually would slip around in his hands, he luckily had a special ability to sticking to things he gravitationally shouldn't be able to.

In his earlier years, he made the mistake of going to school without the coverage. He got a wave of concern from Ned, disappointed lectures from teachers, and a lot of desperate sounding lines from Flash about wanting to start a fight with him. Never again.

"Peter, do you have any cool scars?"

Peter looks up from his paper. His shoulders tensed up from the unexpected question. "What? No."

"Yeah, he does," a guy calls out. "You had a scar over your ear. Flash pointed it out in Gym one time. He looked really freaked."

That scar had actually been from before the spider bite. His life had been easier back then, but he still went through a great deal of challenges.

One of these challenges just happened to be bullying.

He had mostly grown out of it, of course, part of it no doubt being the lowkey confidence boost given to him after he started saving people. But before all of it, he was just some scrawny teenager who was too passionate about things people usually weren't. That got you into a lot of trouble.

It hadn't actually been Flash who had pushed him head first into the door of a locker. It had been one of his friends. Nevertheless, Peter's luck had kicked in and managed to get the locker closed on his ear in the process.

He doesn't remember much of the incident, because while it was only a few years ago, he had gone through a much greater deal of pain, and getting his ear slammed into a locker was now considered a mild inconvenience at most.

Flash had apologized profusely for a week, seemingly putting down his guard and annoying personality for genuine concern and guilt. Peter forgave him, more or less, just by dismissing his apologies until they stopped coming.

Flash had seen the scar on his ear earlier in the trimester in the locker room, and suddenly was apologizing all over again. Apparently he hadn't known it caused an actual scar.

Peter would have laughed, because he doesn't remember half of the scars he gets these days, but Flash was a mess of remorse and Peter began to find the situation uncomfortable. He forgave him quickly and then left the locker room, Ned trailing after him to recount the entire story with a snicker.

"Oh." Peter's hand went up to his ear. "Oh, right. Yeah. Uh..."

His gaze travels up to Flash and grimaces as he imagines the middle school story traveling around the halls. So, he does the thing that he doesn't do best, and lies.

"Yeah. He threw a paper plane and it nicked me in the ear."

The boy who pointed out the scar makes a funny look and chokes back a laugh. "You got a scar from a paper plane?"

"It—It was cardstock." Peter says quickly. He nods to reaffirm his story. "Yeah."

"Well, guys, I think we found a winner for the 'lamest scar' competition," a girl teases playfully. She smiles at Peter.

Peter laughs a little. They really had no idea. "I guess so."

It was a stupid competition, but Peter somehow felt like a winner all the same.

He wouldn't say he was proud of his scars. They were battle marks, meaning they should be worn with pride, but Peter never fought for the pride aspect of it.

He fought because it was the only right thing he could do, and that's why he keeps fighting. He doesn't get much attention for his wins, especially when the news stations hate him one day and love him another.

But he was proud of this. A fake win to a fake competition for a stupid scar. Maybe it was because it was something he could safely be acknowledged for, rather than showing all of the marks he's gotten from knives and gunshots and broken rubble to a bunch of the kids he goes to school with.

A scar on the ear; symbolizing the first real fight he has proof of but never fought. The first of many scars to come, and yet he thinks this one might be his favourite.

He smiles down at his paper. 

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