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Peter was having a miserable day, to say the least. Flash was being extra annoying, and it had only just passed first period. Their teacher had handed back their Chemistry tests yesterday, and Peter had forgotten about the test so the grade had been less than satisfactory. He wasn’t too worried, seeing as he understood much better after Mr. Stark had comforted him and explained the material to him. When he came home crying about it, the man had all but dropped his project in the lab and spent ample time making sure Peter was reassured.
He’d actually woken up in a relatively good mood today, but of course that didn’t last long once he got to school. Flash had somehow found out about the botched test and teased him relentlessly in front of everybody, managing to hit directly on all of his insecurities. It wasn’t anything he didn’t usually tease him about, just… triggered the shadows of insecurity in his mind.
He was pulled out of his stupor when the teacher called his name sharply, and his head shot up from his hand where it had been resting. He looked around frantically, and Ned was looking at him, clearly having been trying to get his attention before the teacher. Peter looked at the board and there was a redox equation on it, and the teacher was telling him to walk the class through the steps of balancing it. Thankfully, this was part of the new unit, one which he’d already learned with Mr. Stark before doing a lab, so he tried to shake the distracting thoughts from his mind as he mindlessly listed off the steps, unaware the teacher had not actually told them how to do it yet.
His classmates looked at him incredulously, and he grew alarmed as he felt his spidey-sense flicker up his spine. Not even a second later, a note was thrown onto his desk from behind. He almost didn’t bother to look at it, but he couldn’t focus properly with the paper glaring at him from where he’d stuffed it in his pocket, so he glanced at the teacher, who was furiously scribbling something barely legible on the board. He brought his hand to his pocket, unravelling the crumpled paper slowly, making sure not to make too much noise. His heart dropped in his chest as he read what it said.
I know you’re cheating, Parker. There’s no way you know that, the teacher hasn’t even mentioned it yet, dipshit. Nice try, but it’s kind of obvious what’s actually going on. Stupid, useless, orphan Peter Parker, only good for his pretty face. No wonder you're the top student, I bet the teachers have so much fun with you.
Peter gagged at the implications. The teacher wasn’t even favouring him that much, he was just smart. He used to be proud of his intelligence, but Flash had ruined that for him, constantly going on about how useless he was.
When class ended, he hurried along to his next class to try and prevent Flash catching him in the halls, but the class wasn’t much of a safe haven either. The Algebra II teacher hated him, and let Flash get away with a ridiculous amount of bullying considering how much he went on about the strict no-bullying policy whenever there were applying students visiting. Peter sat down next to Ned and sighed, trying to ignore the nasty thoughts going through his head. He acted like they were just fleeting, in one ear out the other type thoughts, but really he’d be up late thinking about them and wondering if there was more truth than he’d like to admit.
Flash was bullying him throughout his next periods, constantly showing him insulting notes from his seat in front of Peter. He’d do it at unsuspecting times when the teacher was writing something, so that Peter was already looking at the board and couldn’t ignore it. By the time lunch period came around, Peter’s lack of sleep the previous night had caught up with him and he just really wanted to go home. His mind was overrun with unpleasant thoughts, and he was starving but didn’t want to get food to risk Flash dumping it all over him like he did yesterday.
Flash hadn’t shown up in the lunch room yet, so Peter decided to risk it because he knew he was at risk of passing out if he didn’t eat anything until he got home from school. As he bit into his lunch, though, pain bloomed throughout his back teeth and he winced. He hadn’t felt anything, but now that he did he noticed a severe pain in his back teeth, on both sides of his jaw. He opened his mouth after swallowing a painful mouthful of food, massaging his jaw and unable to mask his pained expression. Ned looked at him worriedly, asking him if he was alright. He thought about saying yes, but Ned knew him better than that and his day was shitty already, so he doubted he’d be able to come up with a believable lie.
“I didn’t even notice until now but my teeth really hurt,” Peter said quietly, sighing and pushing away his plate of food. Ned looked at him, concerned.
“Are you okay? I’ll take you to the nurse if you want, I’m sure she can do something about it… I have apple sauce in my lunch if you want something soft to eat,” Ned replied, sliding his bowl of apple sauce in front of Peter. Peter smiled gratefully and ate the sauce, grateful he didn’t have to chew. He thought about the comment about the nurse, not wanting to be a bother to his aunt or Tony because they both had busy jobs, but he really was in a lot of pain. He didn’t know if he’d make it to the end of the day, especially if Flash kept up.
“I don’t know about the nurse… I’m considering it but I think I’ll at least try to come to my afternoon classes…. We are reviewing for the history in-class essay tomorrow next period and I really don’t want to miss it because history is one of my worst subjects,” Peter said worriedly.
“It’s okay, man, I’ll take notes for you, and I’m sure MJ will send you a copy of hers too if you ask, she just had some appointment this morning but she’ll be here by next period,” Ned said, trying to persuade his friend to go to the nurse. Usually, Peter wouldn’t even entertain the thought of going to the nurse, he only ever went if he had no choice. Even then, it was never willingly— he always had to be forced because he took school that seriously.
“I still want to be there, though…” Peter said, trailing off as he noticed Flash’s familiar voice approaching him from behind. His spidey-sense prickled sharply down his spine, and he had a good idea of what was going to happen but he knew it would only get worse if he avoided it. True to his thoughts, a bowl of hot miso soup was upturned over his head a moment later. He flinched at the hot temperature, unintentionally clenching his jaw to avoid yelling in pain. The soup was burning hot, literally— he could feel the skin on his neck, back, and chest blistering with burns. The soup was mostly liquid, save for the white squares of something falling out of his hair and a green leaflike thing peeling off his shoulder.
Peter could barely stop himself from breaking down in tears right then and there in front of the whole cafeteria; he was in so much pain, both physically and mentally, his mind screaming at him how useless he was and he shouldn’t even think about going to the nurse because he couldn’t handle a bit of rough treatment. (He knew, somewhere, that it was not just rough treatment, but his mind was running a mile a minute with distress and he could only believe the thoughts, even if they felt like knives piercing his head sharply)
He stood up, not bothering to grab his bag before quickly walking out of there as quickly as possible, finding his way to the single-stall bathroom on the third floor that no one uses. He shuts the door and locks it, finally letting the tears fall. Ugly sobs are ripped from his chest painfully, and he tears off his burning shirt to look at the damage. His skin is bright red, and painfully so, way worse than how it looks after he’s taken a shower just a little hotter than he should. His skin is flaking and peeling like it does for sunburns, and his entire neck, back, chest, and stomach are covered in it. He peels off all the seaweed from his skin, and shakes the little white squares of tofu from his hair before running his head under the tap water. His skin burns painfully, and he’s crying pathetically but he can’t bring himself to stop. He knows it would be a useless attempt anyway, so he just lets the tears fall.
After a good half an hour, he’s managed to get all the food from his clothes and body. His shirt is still soaked, but luckily his pants and underwear are spotless because he was sitting down and he reacted quickly. He squeezes out his shirt before going to put it in his backpack when he realises he doesn’t have it with him. He left it in the lunch room with Ned and Flash and his groupies. He swears colourfully, realising that also means he doesn't have his jacket to put on.
He decides that he’ll go to gym lockers to put on his gym shirt because it’s near here and no one will be there because gym blocks don’t start until next period. Once he carefully opens the bathroom door, he hears footsteps coming up the stairs, but recognizes his friend's fast heartbeat so he doesn’t hide. Ned, bless him, brought him his backpack and the rest of his apple sauce.
Peter thanks Ned and grabs his backpack and takes his black hoodie out of it, quickly putting it on and zipping it up. Obviously Ned has seen how serious the burns are, but he’s hoping he won’t mention it. (Not likely.) He’s quiet for now, at least. Save for Peter’s small word of gratitude, neither of them say anything.
As they’re walking, though, Ned does bring it up. He takes in a breath and says, “Those looked pretty bad, dude. You sure you don’t need to go to the nurse?”
“Yeah, Ned. I heal fast, remember? I’ll be fine by tomorrow or the day after,” Peter says tiredly, not really wanting to talk about what happened.
“I know, but just because you heal faster than normal doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Ned says, and Peter bites his lip because if that wasn’t one of the biggest annoyances in his life. No matter how fast he healed, there was still pain— physical or not.
They sit down on a bench in an empty hall, Peter drawing his knees to his face and hiding his head in them. Peter hates himself for it, but he feels the tears fall before he realises.
Ned sighs sympathetically and comforts him quietly. He does feel bad— he doesn’t usually break down like this in front of anyone, let alone in the middle of school where anyone could see. He realises that it would probably be a fruitless attempt if he tried to go back to class now, so he gives a resigned sigh and stands, making his way to the nurse. He thanks Ned again, and the boy smiles sadly.
“It was nothing, dude. I’m sorry they treat you like that, it’s really harsh. No one should have to go through that, Flash is a dick, man. You should really tell someone,” Ned says.
“I know, but no one will believe me. Flash’s parents fund, like, a quarter of the events at this school. No matter how much proof I have, they can’t do anything about it because they need the money,” Peter says.
“Yeah, but your boss has way more money than Flash’s family. I’m sure if you told him he’d get Flash expelled within an inch of his life,” Ned said, sighing dreamily at the prospect of school without Flash. “You could probably even persuade him to let you go to a different school altogether if you wanted.”
“I could, but I don’t want to bother him. And I can’t go to another school, I want to graduate with you and MJ. You should get back to your class, I can get to the nurses office on my own,” Peter says, not meaning to dismiss Ned but he just wants to be alone right now.
His entire being craves comfort he hasn’t had since he was a child, and that’s not May’s fault she can’t provide it for him but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. As nice and loving as she is, she’s still not his parent. He’s had many a moment in his life when he’s wanted someone to comfort him, someone alive who he can love and who can love him. That’s not to say May doesn’t, but there’s a level of parental love a lot of children get that’s missing in his life, no matter how much he loves his aunt.
Recently with being Spider-man, having a lot more injuries and witnessing a lot of unspeakable things the average teen probably wouldn’t… it gets to him, sometimes, and he just wants someone to be there for him. It isn’t Ned’s fault, though, so he smiles gratefully at the boy and watches until he turns around the corner and goes out of sight.
He makes his way to the nurse’s office, knocking on the door before peeking his head in. Luckily, there are no other people in the office right now so he doesn’t have to worry about prying eyes.
“Hello, hon. Can I help you with something?”
“Yeah, I… uh, got burned. And I think I have a tooth infection,” Peter says quietly.
“Okay, let’s get you fixed up. What is your name? I’m new to the job, I don’t think I’ve met you yet.”
“Uh, Peter. Peter Parker,” Peter says, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.
“Alright, let me see the burns first. Where does it hurt?” Peter gulps nervously and grips the zipper to his hoodie, tensely taking it off.
“Oh, honey… I’ll get the burn cream, why don’t you tell me what happened?” The nurse sighs as she grabs the cream and hands it to him to put on his skin.
“I spilled my soup on myself at lunch. I tried to run it under water, but I didn’t really succeed…” He says quietly, embarrassed at the story because it seems a bit stupid. Like, really, Spiderman spilled his lunch and got bad burns? What are Aunt May or Mr. Stark going to say?
“Alright, well let me take a look at those teeth. I’m no dentist, but I should be able to give you something for them,” She says, prompting him to open his mouth. He does, and she frowns.
“Yes, it looks like there’s something here… you’re bleeding pretty badly, hunny, can you taste blood?” She asks him, concerned. Now that he’s looking for it, though, he recognizes the metallic taste.
“Actually, yeah, I can. Just wasn’t paying attention, haha...” He laughs awkwardly, wondering what she’s doing when she bustles off to the supply cabinet again. She comes back with a roll of gauze and little circle stickers. She gives him a cup of water to wash his mouth, and he hands it back mixed with the red colour of his blood. He didn’t even realise he was bleeding that much, but looking at the colour, it is actually a lot of blood. He’s given a new cup of water and he washes his mouth out several times with clean water before the nurse puts a whole lot of something soft mixed with gauze in his mouth. She’s attached the gauze around his jaw with the small stickers, but it prevents him from being able to talk properly.
“I’m going to call your parents, okay? You need to go to a real doctor to get that burn treated,” The nurse says, walking away to the phone. He hears the dial tone as she calls who he thinks is Aunt May because she’s listed first as his emergency contact. He waits anxiously to see if she’ll pick up— it’s always a waiting game with her, the way her job works means it’s always changing. He has no idea what her schedule is, so sometimes she’ll pick up immediately and sometimes she’ll miss all the calls no matter how many times the poor nurse tries to contact her. He knows Mr. Stark is his second emergency contact, so when the nurse asks whether he wants her to try again or call someone else, he tells her to try the second one on the list. Mr. Stark has picked him up from school once before, and that was actually the first time since lower school that he went home early. His life with Aunt May and how busy she was trying to make money meant that she often couldn’t pick up the phone even if he was injured enough to warrant a school nurse visit before said nurse would tell him to go home. In the end, whoever was on at the time would give him a pitying smile before forcing him to lie in the bed in the office for a while. After half an hour passed they had let him go back to classes, seeing no point in making him mope around all day.
The nurse, obviously a new one because she reacted obviously when she saw Tony Stark’s name listed, didn’t ask him about that, thankfully. As a nurse, she probably had lots of experience with what was her business and what wasn’t.
She put the phone to her ear and Peter listened quietly. He was really, really hoping Mr. Stark would pick up because he didn’t know if he could make it through the rest of the day. Thankfully, a familiar voice answered the phone and Peter let out a full-body sigh of relief. Thank God. After a couple minutes of quiet conversation Peter couldn’t quite overhear, the nurse handed the phne over to Peter. Peter held the phone to his ear and warmth filled his heart as he heard Mr. Stark’s worried voice fill his ears.
“Kid? Are you alright? The nurse said you were in pretty bad condition. How did you manage to burn yourself that badly? And a toothache, too?” Mr. Stark asked worriedly.
“I… uh… no’ doin’ so well, M’s’r S’ark (Mr. Stark). Toof hur’s, an’ bu’n hur’s. (burn hurts.)
“Yeah, I feel ya, kiddo. You want me to come pick you up, and get you checked into the med ward?”
“Yeah. P’ease come. But, wan’... wan’ go ‘o s’eep, p’ease, M’s’r S’ark. (want to go to sleep, please, Mr. Stark.)
“I hear ya. I promise you can go to sleep right after you get checked up, but we just need to make sure you’re okay. I’m getting in the car now— I’ll see you in five. Can I hang up now, Peter?” Peter whimpered, wanting the comfort of his father figure but he knew Mr. Stark would arrive soon so he nodded, before realising belatedly that the man couldn’t see him over the phone, so he blushed, embarrassed, before mumbling an affirmative. Mr. Stark hung up, and he felt silly for pouting but he really craved comfort right now.
Suddenly, he felt a bit cold. The nurse had opened the window, and there was a breeze filtering through. He shivered, the cold air biting into his bare skin. He wants to put his hoodie back on, but at the same time it will be all the more painful for the burns. Soon, though, Mr. Stark arrives and he all but forgets about the burns, launching himself into a hug with the older man.
Tears fall from his eyes without his consent, and he sniffles miserably. He wouldn’t be surprised if he caught a cold from walking to school in the rain this morning. Sure enough, he’s sneezing and coughing as he’s led out the door to the car. He shivers violently when they get outside, Mr. Stark’s figure doing only so much to protect him from the freezing rain. He barely registers the comforting words being murmured in his ear before he falls asleep, collapsing in Mr. Stark’s arms.
He wakes up surrounded by warm, soft blankets that, surprisingly, don’t bother his burns too much. He groans, feeling like his head is filled with cotton. He keeps his eyes closed for a while longer, drifting in and out of sleep. After a while, he grows tired of sleeping so he blearily opens his eyes. Thankfully, the lights are all off and the room must be in blackout mode because he can’t hear anything either.
He sits up, looking around the room and his enhanced sight assuring him that it is, in fact, his own room in the tower. He sighs, relieved they didn’t keep him in the med ward. He’s not that sick, or even sick at all, just a bunch of unlikely events all in the same day. Getting up, he wraps his blanket around himself and his stuffy before wandering into the kitchen to find Mr. Stark.
Mr. Stark is on the couch on his laptop, and Peter’s sickly mind doesn’t see anything wrong with just crawling onto the couch and leaning his head in Mr. Stark’s lap. Luckily, the billionaire doesn’t say anything, just giving him a comforting head scratch. He falls right back asleep with the comfort of his mentor, wanting to just get this day over with.