Peter was hungry.
It's something you think he'd be used to- he hasn't had the opportunity to eat his fill in at least a month. But it's an achy feeling, gnawing, always present.
Just like the cold.
It wasn't really cold out, but he's lost a lot of weight. Peter guesses the lack of calories to burn gives him less ability to maintain his body temperature, even in August. He's not looking forward to fall.
He has serious doubts about being able to survive winter out here.
Peter feels horrible, but when he's huddled up on the roof of some building late at night, wrapped up in a couple blankets he's found, hunched in over his stomach in an attempt to lessen the hunger pains,that's when he misses Ben and May the most. He feels like he's being so selfish- their lives cut so short in a tragedy, and he misses them because they fed him, and clothed him, and hugged him when he needed it.
Ben always had a thing about self pity- "You never have it as bad as someone else does," he'd say. He often took Peter out when he volunteered- at soup kitchens, at homeless shelters- to drive that point home. Peter's trying really hard to keep that in mind right now. He's got super powers. He can climb buildings to sleep on roofs instead of doorways or park benches. He can fight off attackers without issue.
But despite all that, he's drowning in misery.
Peter knows he can go back to the system. He'd at least have a shot to be fed regularly. Have a bed to sleep in. Take showers regularly.
The cost of that though- he just can't.
His first time in foster care had been right after his parents had died. He knew Ben wanted to take him in right away but May had been a little hesitant- she had never really wanted kids. So he spent a few weeks in a foster care home while they "sorted the paperwork". It had been terrifying- they were kind, but had so many foster kids, and he was in shock so he was withdrawn as it is- he guesses that's why Skip had targeted him.
Skip was the couple's only biological child. He had a tendency to sneak into the smaller boy's room. The first few times he just said he wanted to sleep with him so that he wouldn't be alone- but each night there was more and more touching. He told Mr. Westcott he wanted to sleep alone but Skip said that Peter was having nightmares and he was just making sure he was O.K. Mr. Westcott believed Skip, and Skip made sure to tell Peter he would never be believed. Thankfully, he was soon taken for a visitation with Ben and May, and while he didn't get up the courage to come out and say it until months later, they knew something had happened from the way he pleaded to go live with them and took custody of him the very next day.
May had always felt horrible about hesitating, and made sure from then on to remind him he was loved and wanted. What he wouldn't give to have that now.
And this time, when they put him in two homes in a row that were abusive- the first mental and emotional and the last physical- he gave up and ran away. He wasn't waiting for something
to happen-again. His caseworker had believed him- but there was never proof. The adults all said he was the one causing trouble and lying when he came forward, and ask that he be moved. The caseworker, her hands tied, was getting a little exasperated, even if she tried not to show it. Peter knew there wasn't a lot of homes, but he wasn't trying to cause trouble- he was trying to protect himself, and the younger kids in the home with him. He knew the next step was a group home, where he knew the hard core teens were that would cause problems for him. Where if he goofed up, he may be faced with Juvie. Where he'd be severely limited in his free time and ability to move around, and watched so closely.
He wouldn't be able to do what he needed to do from that place. Things like this:
Peter jumped from the fire escape to the alley below, then careened around a corner to where he heard the yelling. He found three guys cornering another, threatening him with knives. The guy that was cornered had what looked like a piece of wood, trying to keep them away from him.
Peter quickly grabbed the closest guy and threw him towards the street. He was able to also toss one other guy into the wall before he was even noticed. The third had time to turn towards him, and quickly but sloppily take a swipe at him with the knife. Peter dodged, and punched him in the nose, causing the guy to yell and immediately double over, covering his face. Peter then just pushed him over to the ground.
He felt a chill up his spine. His danger sense that had developed with his powers had been on a low grade hum now for weeks, but it did get stronger when something was about to happen. He turned to the mugee to check and make sure he was okay, and was surprised to find him with the wood grasped over his head in an attack position, and barely had time to duck. The wood cut the air just to his left, though, and took the guy that was back up and trying to sneak behind him back to the ground again.
Peter was impressed. Normally, the people he'd help would either be running away already, with no concern to the person that just saved them, or just staring numbly in shock.
"Dude," he said in awe, and held out his fist to the guy.
The man, still white in his young face and breathing hard, just stared at his fist for a second before slowly fist bumping him.
"You got a phone to call this in?" Peter asked, noting that the first guy he'd thrown was long gone.
"Yeah, yeah. Hey, thanks man. I've heard about you, didn't expect to ever meet you in person," The young man said, already dialing.
"No problem," Peter replied nonchalantly, even as on the inside he was getting that rush he always got after saving someone. "Glad I came by at the right time."
He turned to leave, but suddenly found that the rush of adrenaline high was already leaving him, and he found himself dizzy and swaying to the right a bit.
"Woah," the young man exclaimed, putting a hand out to steady Peter. "You okay? Did they hit you or something?"
Peter shrugged him off and shook his head to clear it. "Adrenaline crash- it's a real thing, man. No worries. Be safe!" He knew he needed to get out of there before the police came. These dizzy spells were happening more and more often after a fight or a rescue, and he knew he'd be fine if he just sat and rested for a second. So Peter waved to the guy once again, and made his way back into the alley.
The webs would come in handy right about now, Peter thought. He hadn't had webs in over a month- he no longer had access to his school's chemistry room and therefore ran out of the stash he had with no ability to make more. He was left with just his physical powers, but he was well aware that with the lack of food and rest, he was burning reserves he just didn't have.
Sighing, Peter scaled up to the first landing and climbed on, slowly making his way to the roof of the building. He'd rest here, at least until the cops finally made it, to make sure the guy below didn't run into any more problems, and to recover from the dizzy spell.
He desperately needed food, he knew. Even with Ben and May, he wasn't eating what he knew his body needed. Both because they'd figure something was up, and food was just so expensive. Now on the streets things were even more dire. He went to the soup kitchens a few times early on, but on top of them being suspicious just because of his age, several volunteers there knew him by site from his visits with Ben. The last time he went he had to sneak out a window to avoid a social worker called on him.
He'd be in even more trouble without Mr. Delmar. He initially hired Peter on four days a week in the afternoons because he thought it was admirable that Peter wanted to help out at home. Peter knew he was growing suspicious though. Peter looked gaunt now, and often came in the same clothes over and over again. He was able to keep them clean as he was able to sneak in to the old apartment building and use the machines, even if he rarely had soap to use. He figured it was only a matter of time before Mr. Delmar decided it was time to just concernedly question him, and there would go the food he got to take from the deli bar at the end of his shift- stale breads, expired meats and cheeses, wilted lettuce. It was usually enough to make one meal a day, and it was the only thing keeping him going now.
He wondered idly how much loneliness and stress were plaguing his body as well. The hum of his danger sense hadn't stopped for weeks, an annoying thrum he knew was probably in a full feedback loop at this point. He was so scared of everything he was pretty sure it was just himself setting it off- worrying about being caught sleeping on a roof. About Mr. Delmar telling him he couldn't help him anymore. The cold in his bones, and how he would likely not survive if he was still sleeping outside this winter. How the only thing that made any sense, gave him a reason to go on, was Spider-Man. Helping people. How his body might not let him do that without getting himself killed pretty soon here.
The hum notched up a bit, and he looked around wildly for a second before he noticed his breath and heart rate had picked up- he was sending himself into a panic attack about how much he was panicking about things. He laughed at himself, but there was no real humor. He had just turned fifteen years old. How was he going to make it to eighteen, when he could make himself legit again?
He heard a commotion from down below and realized the cops had arrived and had things well in hand. Peter wearily climbed to his feet and planned his route back to where he had his stuff stashed. It would be so much easier with his webs, he thought. Jumping from roof to roof, climbing up the walls, just sucked more energy out of him. More life out of him.
"You never have it as bad as someone else does," He mumbled to himself tiredly, and made a running leap to the next roof.
Tony was annoyed. He was hitting roadblocks everywhere he turned in an attempt to find this kid. He'd been in the city for three weeks now, much longer than he thought it would take to track down a runaway kid. He talked to everybody he could think of. The social worker in charge had barely remembered any details about Peter- hadn't spent much time with him and couldn't give him any information that wasn't in the file about where he would go. Neighbors in the kid's old apartment building, along with the landlord, just reported that he had no friends to speak of- he was a book worm and nerd, they said. Spent more time at home than anywhere else. Teachers at his public school had nothing but praise for him- besides the pity about his circumstances, anyway- but said the same thing. He was so much smarter than the other kids, straight up gifted, that it caused Peter to be very isolated, even picked on sometimes.
Friday was continuously scanning the city's CCTV and any big security cameras in the area the kid had lived with his aunt and uncle, with no success. Tony had figured the kid would stick to the area he knew. It was like the kid had vanished. It was pissing Tony off- and making him genuinely start to worry. Had the progeny of the world's most famous billionaire die in the streets? Or was he now somewhere even Tony would never find him, suffering? Tony in his time had come across the kinds of people a street kid needed to fear- drug czars needing mules, sadistic violent offenders praying on easy targets, and the one that made him literally sick to his stomach to think about- child traffickers.
In a last ditch effort, and well aware it would bring attention to both himself and the kid, he contacted the police in an attempt to see what he could do next. The desk sergeant, knowing Tony Stark would not stand for the standard channels, forwarded him to a detective. The detective sat and talked with him a bit, gave him some good tips about checking some of the shelters and food kitchens in the area. He questioned Tony about why he was interested in a certain boy. Using the slight connection to Mary (that he still didn't remember) to his advantage Tony overstated their relationship, said that he had just learned about her son's circumstances and felt he owed it to her to check up on her son. He was nowhere near ready to admit to paternity of the kid.
He was sure he was still going to walk away from the kid once he got him safe and sound. It was better for the both of them. Poor kid had been through enough without being saddled with a bio dad popping up out of nowhere that was more of a mess than the kid was himself.
On that advice, he went with his school picture of Peter to homeless shelters and then food kitchens to see if he'd been around. That's where he began to finally gain some traction. The director of one of the shelters recognized him by name, and knew him as "Ben's kid". That was the extent of what the director knew, but he gave him the name of a woman who ran one of the smaller soup kitchens on the edge of Queens. Apparently Ben had volunteered there the most as it was near his work. Allison hadn't seen him in over a year, but heard one of the volunteers saying something about seeing Peter a few months ago. Allison had given him a name of that volunteer, a Charlie, and Friday did her magic and provided him with a number.
Charlie, it turns out, was a wealth of information. He was a former gang banger and drug addict, and was well versed in both the criminal and homeless element. Charlie told him he hadn't seen Peter recently, but agreed to meet Tony at a diner after he got off work to see if they could come up with something together.
"Peter always was a charming little thing," Charlie was saying fondly, stirring sugar into his coffee. "Ridiculously smart, you can tell as soon as you meet him. But so friendly! I'm a big guy, all tatted up, and I intimidate a lot of people that come into the shelter. Peter sidled right up to me though! It actually concerned me a bit- sometimes people aren't right in the head, the ones that come into the shelters and kitchens- but he always seemed to know how to talk to people and disarm them quickly. Damn shame about his Uncle- good man, good kid. Shame."
Tony smiled, Charlie was obvious in his fondness for Peter. Peter sounded like a good kid, and he was weirdly proud despite him having no impact on Peter's life to this point, and not wanting one going forward. He was also impatient. "When did you see him last?"
Charlie sighed. "I goofed up on that one. I had heard he came into the kitchen a few times before I saw him myself. It had been a few months since Ben's death, I just figured maybe he'd came to be close to Ben? It's tough, being thrown into the system like that." Charlie frowned. "Then he came when I was there. He looked so sad, had obviously lost weight. I sat and talked with him a bit. He said he was in a foster home but just needed to get away sometimes. I bought it, and told him he could come around anytime. And he did a few times, and we talked. I tried to get him to tell me what was up with him, but he just wanted to talk superficial stuff, and I got that. Sometimes you just need an escape.
But the last time he came in, he wasn't right. His clothes were dirty, and he looked like death warmed over. I finally had to admit that the kids was likely a runaway even if he wouldn't admit it, and wasn't doing a bang up job of looking after himself. I called a social worker that volunteered a few times a month, and she agreed to take a look at his file and see what was up. I told Peter that we could use his help at the next lunchtime, so I knew he'd show up."
Charlie laughed, a big belly laugh that had the others in the small diner looking at their table. "Kid showed up, alright. And so did his social worker. I swear, he was next to me in the kitchen one minute, and gone the next. And there's no back door that way! I still don't know how he got out without going past either me or the social worker. The windows are way too high for a short fry like Peter to climb out of." Charlie shrugged. "I didn't mean to catch him out like that- I was hoping I'd get to have a talk with him once I knew his circumstances better, and maybe take him in to his social worker myself. But I guess the social worker got a little impatient. Haven't seen him since."
Tony nodded. He wasn't a fan of the social worker, as she seemed dismissive of Peter at first. Eventually, she admitted her caseload was so heavy that she was working twelve to fourteen hours a day on the kids she could get her hands on, much less the ones that had ran. She really did try to give him something to help him search, but there was nothing.
"Do you have any idea of where he could be now?" Tony asked.
"No, not really. I'll go down over the next couple days and ask around some of the places the runaway kids frequent. See if anyone has seen him. I don't hold out much hope for that though. Kid like Peter, he'd be eaten alive in an atmosphere like that." Charlie turned the waitress away when she offered to refill the coffee. He looked at his watch, then back up at Tony. "Not somewhere you'd be safe going either, Iron Man or not," He said with a smirk. "I've got to get to my second job now, but I'll go soon."
Tony huffed at the delay, but thought he'd make more waves than he wanted at this point trying to do that himself anyway. "Alright, thanks. Just call this number," he said, handing over a card with one of Friday's numbers on it. "It goes to my personal assistant, she can get you in touch with me if you find anything."
Charlie nodded, and stood. "Good luck, man. I really hope you can help him. Like I said, a really smart charming kid." They shook hands, and Charlie made his way towards the door.
Tony abruptly realized he had exhausted everything he could think of that he could do to find the kid. He hated not having anything to do.
"Charlie, is there anything else you think I can do over the next few days to try and find him?"
Charlie turned, and thought for a second. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you find that one superhero guy that hangs out in Queens, see if he's seen him. That's right up your alley, right?"
Tony had no idea who he was talking about. "Superhero guy?"
Charlie grinned. "Yeah, cool dude. Helps people out all the time, could have possibly came across a homeless kid in a bind. Lame name though. He goes by Spider-man."