Title: In The Dark
Summary: "There's a boy in the dumpster, Michelle tells herself again, with bruises on his chest and back and a wild look in his eye." Michelle spots a wounded Peter Parker in an alleyway and months later, she's still hanging out with him. AU.
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Marvel and make no profit from any of what I am posting.
Warning: Dark. Almost rape. Non-descriptive.
Chapter 1
There's a boy in the dumpster lying face down in nothing but his boxers. His chest rises and falls slowly, his breath coming out in wheezes and, for a moment, all Michelle can do is stare at him, rooted to the spot.
"Excuse me?" she says at last, because it's the first thing that comes to her head, and the boy's eyes fly open at once.
He pushes himself up, wincing at the movement, but sitting swiftly anyway and turns to stare at her. His eyes widen, and he seems to shrink away when Michelle takes a step forward. Like a deer in headlights, she thinks.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she says quietly.
He smiles at that. "No," the boy agrees. "I didn't think you would."
There's a boy in the dumpster, Michelle tells herself again, with bruises on his chest and back and a wild look in his eye. She thinks he might be a bit mad. She thinks she might be a lot madder for talking to him.
He turns away from her, and picks up a schoolbag Michelle hadn't noticed before. He pulls out a long sleeved shirt and deftly puts it on, without wincing or revealing even the slightest pain.
"Sorry about that," he says, grabbing a pair of trousers next and pulling out a number of books and pens in the process. He doesn't pay heed to them as he tries to fit one leg into his jeans, hopping on the spot for a few moments before he manages to get it past his ankle.
He looks at her again, brown eyes boring into Michelle's. "Shouldn't have scared you like that."
She shakes her, then: "Should I be worried?"
That makes him grin again, and he takes a step towards her, bag dangling from one shoulder and his free hand in his hair. "Fear not, Ma'am," he says. "We're in the safest part of Queens."
Michelle doesn't agree, but she doesn't bother to contradict him. He's the one with cuts and bruises all over his back and torso; he should definitely be concerned for his safety more than hers. She leaves before the conversation continues.
He's there the next day too — the boy. He's standing with his back to her, school back dumped by his feet. He turns, as though sensing her arrival, and his expression instantly switches from one of apprehension to a warm smile.
"You're back!" the boy exclaims, running a hand through his hair. He takes a step forward, and then another until he's standing right in front of her.
"Yeah. You okay now?"
"Brilliant," he says. Michelle doesn't believe him.
She rolls her eyes, because that's what Michelle does, and takes a step forward. His bag's in one corner again, but nothing else is out of place. She wonders if he lives here. Michelle doesn't dare to ask.
"It's pretty late," the boy says. "Where you headed to?"
"Home." She falls silent for a moment. "Sorry, I don't know you yet and - "
He raises his hands in mock defeat again. "It's alright. I get it." The smile, again, then he tugs a hand through his hair. "Goodnight Ma'am."
"Goodnight." She's smiling despite herself.
He's not there on the third night, but there are three men webbed to a brick wall not far from her home. Michelle doesn't dare approach them. She's heard about the Spider-Man and the kind of criminals he catches. In the distance, a police siren wails. She walks home a little faster.
The boy is back on the fourth night, legs crossed and a cup of takeaway noodles in one hand. He looks up when Michelle peeps in, smiling broadly.
"Miss me?"
She rolls her eyes. "As if."
"It's late," he says, eyes fixed on her unblinkingly.
She should refuse again, she almost does. Then Michelle nods. "Yeah."
He's up in a moment, lifting his backpack and stepping into his shoes. He offers her the takeout, but Michelle shakes her head. It's one thing to let a stranger walk her home. She definitely isn't taking food from him as well.
"I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Parker." He takes another spoonful (forkful?) of his noodles, slurping them loudly. "It's okay if you don't want to introduce yourself yet."
"Thanks."
He beams, stuffs his mouth with more noodles and Michelle turns away.
"Do - do you live in the dumpster?"
That makes him snort, and then cough. Michelle thinks he might be dying with all thr coughing and slamming his fist into his chest. Then the logical part of her brain begins to function, and she smacks his back, hoping that will help.
The coughing stops and Peter Parker grins at her, his eyes watery and a noodle stuck to the front of his shirt.
"Nah. Just like it over there." At least he doesn't sound like he almost choked.
"That's not normal."
Peter shrugs. "I live two blocks down from here. With my Aunt."
"Oh. Don't you like it there?"
He shakes his head wildly. "Love it. She's the best Aunt in the universe. You'd agree if you met her. I just need to do something. For me and maybe for her too."
"Drugs?" Michelle asks because it's the first thing that comes to her head and would definitely explain a lot. Peter Parker seems amused though. "I'm not a fan of law-breaking," he says.
They're a few streets away from her home, and Michelle stops walking, looking at her feet and then at his shirt.
"We're here."
Parker nods. "Goodnight, Ma'am." He's gone before she can reply.
He walks her home almost every night after that. He never asks for her name or wonders out loud about why she makes him drop her on a different street each night. In fact, if he has any questions about her, they never come up.
Michelle can't say the same about herself.
She asks him about his bruises, and questions his decision to stay in the dumpster. She asks him about what he's trying to do too. He doesn't tell her much, but she doesn't stop persisting.
"Doesn't your Aunt worry?"
He shrugs. "She used to, but my friend covers for me on nights when I get particularly late." He pauses, slurping the coke he's brought tonight. "Plus, she won't notice much as long as my grades are perfect."
That catches Michelle by surprise. She isn't expecting her dumpster buddy to be smart. Though, then again, who is she to judge?
She's back again the next evening, peering into his dumpster alley, hoping that he'll be there but also hoping that he won't, when, for the first time in weeks, she's met with silence. No grinning boy or quiet music. She steps in, pulling her phone out of her bag and shaking it to turn on the flash.
He's on the ground again, back towards her and hair drenched in sweat. There's a long cut down his back and a pool of blood around him. Michelle stifles a scream, covering her mouth with her hand. Peter turns, wincing but smiling through the pain.
"Good evening, Ma'am," he says, and she doesn't know what to make of it. "I'm fine," he promises, sitting up, but there's so much blood on the ground that she can't bring herself to believe him. Not this time.
"Don't," she says, wrapping her fingers around his arm. "Stop lying and pretending like you're fine. I don't know what's up with you and what you do all day, but you've got to stop." She's breathing heavily, gripping his arm tightly. "You've got to stop, or you'll die."
Peter Parker smiles. "I don't plan on doing that anytime soon," he promises.
He eases her grip, on his arm, and then encases her hand between his, bringing it to his lips and kissing her fingertips.
"I'm fine," he promises, and Michelle almost believes him.
"Let me take a look," she says. Not that she knows the first thing about deep cuts and how to deal with them.
Peter Parker stares at her, blue-brown eyes fixed on hers. She thinks he's going to agree, but then he shakes his head, still holding her hand. "I'm sorry. I can't. Do - do you want me to walk you back?"
She shakes her head, pulls her hand away. He's a stranger. She hasn't told him her name or where she lives. He doesn't know the first thing about her and deep down Michelle knows it's the wrong to expect him to share his own story.
But it still hurts.
It hurts so fucking much.
"I'm good," she says, chewing on her lip. Michelle leaves before she changes her mind.
He's not there the next day or the day after. She tells herself to forget him and, yet, Michelle can't bring herself to stop checking. Just in case.
On the fifth day, a warm hand grabs her wrist, pulling Michelle into a different alley. He's in front of her - Peter Parker. His hood pulled up and a wild look in his eyes.
"I need your help," he says and, despite every curse she's sent his way in the past week, Michelle nods.
He makes her take him to McDonald's, and she watches in silence as he inhales three burgers and a coke. It occurs to Michelle that the story about an Aunt might have been a lie, though she doesn't dare bring it up just then.
"Thank you, Ma'am," he says once he's done. "Thanks a lot."
"Michelle," she says. "My name's Michelle."
She remembers the warmth of his lips when he kissed her fingertips, and it sends a chill down her back. Peter Parker knows nothing about her and yet, in moments like these, she feels as though she could trust him with her world. When he looks at her, Michelle thinks about kissing him.
She doesn't.
He waits outside the dumpster alleyway after that, backpack resting on his shoulders and looking like an excited puppy. She lets Peter walk her home because she feels safer that way, but also because she likes his company.
She gets late on her birthday: Michelle stops at the bakery to pick up a slice of cake and two plastic spoons for them to share and she's almost giddy with excitement because in her head, sharing cake with Peter Parker is way more romantic than it actually will be.
She holds the cake box with utmost care, purse dangling from one hand and a smile lighting up her face. Maybe she should have realised that everything was just too good to last.
She doesn't notice the shadow that follows her until a rough hand grabs her by the wrist, jolting Michelle sideways.
The cakebox falls, her purse is roughly pulled away from her and Michelle goes numb on the inside.
Then adrenaline jerks her back to the present, and she kicks and thrashes and screams, but the shadow is bigger and stronger than she is and pins her to the wall with surprising ease. She can feel his breath against her skin, his grip on her wrist disappears but she's still pressed against the wall. Something in Michelle dies.
This is the end, she thinks, squeezing her eyes shut. There's no going back from this.
Suddenly the weight is pulled off her, and there's a splutter and a slurp. When she opens her eyes, there's a man webbed to a wall and a masked hero standing inches away from her.
"You okay?"
Michelle nods then shakes her head, then nods again. She suddenly wishes Peter were here.
"Thanks," she says, her voice trembling.
And then she's wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder even though he's a stranger and smells of sweat and blood. He doesn't move for a moment, then slowly wraps his arms around her.
"You're safe now," he says gently, his voice so familiar it makes Michelle feel at home. "He won't touch anyone again."
When she meets Peter a few minutes later, he silently gives her a bag of takeout and slides his hand into hers, squeezing ut briefly. No questions asked and no complaints made. Michelle forgets to tell him it's her birthday, but she almost tells him about the Spider-Man who saved her life.
Almost.
They reach her home too soon. They've barely eaten the takeaway, and she hasn't said a word even though there's so much she wants to say./p
"I- " Michelle begins.
Peter shakes his head, slipping his hand out of hers. She misses the warmth as soon as it's gone. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers, and Michelle really hopes he will.
NOTE: I'm not usually one to delete and repost a fic but my previous upload of this got hit by some spam bots threatening to delete my fic and I guess I just didn't want to keep that up there forever. They're also the reason my old profile has disappeared.
Advice for anyone being hit by the bots: DO NOT open their profiles. It allows them to modify your profile. More info on the Critics United forum!
It's been a while, aye? Life sorta took over and I haven't read or written a lot recently. I wrote a draft of this a while ago when life was being shitty and fell in love with the rhythm of it. Doesn't help that the new footage from FFH had me screaming and I couldn't come up with anything new.
Should have the second part up in a few days! Comments and criticism are always welcome!
Love you!