Ok, this is going to be a long one!
I KNOW I haven't updated my main story since, like, last weekend, but I had a test Thursday, and sh*t hit the friggin' fan that day, and I've been out of commission since, trying to feel better, AND catch up on the sh*t I've been letting go.
I'M SUCH A PROCRASTINATING POTATO!
Peter knew what was right and what was wrong. He knew good guys from bad guys, and he saw the line between the two sides every day.
His dad was good. Dad played Mousetrap with Peter, and made the best cookies- even though they always came out burnt, Peter knew they would've been the best- and he worked with Uncle Tony who was really cool 'cuz he made Peter fun toys, and Dad let Peter sit in the lab with them and make important decisions, even if those decisions turned out badly. He and Uncle Tony would always explain why the machine exploded or what caused the chemicals to fizz and smell icky. They were nice, and treated him like he was smart enough to understand, unlike Peter's teachers who thought children Peter's age couldn't handle glue and stickers.
Peter's dad was good, Peter knew. Flash Thompson was not good.
Peter figured this out the first day of elementary school when Flash stole Peter's snacks when the teacher wasn't looking, and pinched him so he wouldn't tell.
This went on throughout elementary school, even if Flash cycled through his victims, Peter always seemed to be a favorite.
It was on one particular day, as Peter watched Flash holding a smaller boy up so that the boy's feet dangled off the ground, that Peter contemplated using his powers to stop Flash. His dad said that Peter's powers were a big responsibility and had to be used wisely. Dad had said that it was dangerous for people to know that Peter was so special, because then somebody might want to take Peter away from his Daddy and family. Peter had no problem agreeing if it meant he could stay with his family. Bruce had also said that nobody was allowed to hurt Peter, though, and if they did, Peter should tell Daddy or any of his aunts or uncles.
Peter frowned. Well, Flash tried to hurt Peter, and he did hurt his feelings by taking his snacks or crumpling his drawings, but he had yet to actually hurt Peter. Hurting meant leaving bruises or blood or something, like when Tony sparred with Aunt Tasha.
No, Flash only pinched him or pulled his hair or shoved him to the ground, and Peter could always catch himself, so he was always fine.
The real problem was the other kids. They weren't like Peter, and couldn't make Flash stop hurting them. And, Peter thought with a twist of his nose, nobody ever said anything about it. The teachers would say that the kids were clumsy and shouldn't shove one another on the playground or somebody would get hurt, and blah blah blah.
Peter also knew that, if he were to tell a teacher or his daddy, he'd be a tattle-tail, and tattle-tails were bad. Nobody would play with him if he was a tattle-tail. Plus, Flash would really not like him, and he might get picked on even more!
Peter was at a dilemma. How to help without being a tattle-tail and without using his powers?
Peter huffed, before a sound caught his attention. He looked up just in time to see the young boy race around the corner of the building- past where the teachers said it was ok to play- and Flash followed him, disappearing seemingly without the teacher noticing.
Peter followed quickly- his heightened hearing picked up the little boy's crying and Flash's mean words. Before he turned the corner, he heard it.
Taking the corner, Peter took in the sight of Flash standing over the boy- whose nose was now bleeding. Flash had never hit anyone before, not that Peter had seen.
That was the last straw.
Peter didn't want to listen to the taunts anymore, so he took a step forward- before stopping. No, he couldn't use his powers.
Ok, what to do then?
Flash looked about ready to punch the boy again, so Peter looked around, trying to find anything to help him.
What to do what to do what to do!
Looking at the building, he finally noticed it- a fire escape leading to the roof.
The ladder to the fire escape was too high, but there was a fence a few away against the mid-side of the building that he could climb. Then, he wouldn't be too close to Flash to be labeled a tattle-tail, the teacher would try to stop him and would hear Flash and everything would work out!
Peter ran the short distance to the fence and started to climb the chainlinks- immediately, the teacher on recess duty began yelling at him to get down. The young woman began walking over to him, and Peter pretended not to hear, making his way up the fence just a little, before shifting farther left, towards Flash and the boy. The teacher came over, pulling him off the fence, and began to lecture him, but Peter wasn't really listening.
He waited for Flash or the boy to be loud enough, but no new sounds could be heard from around the corner.
"Are you even listening to me?" the teacher asked.
Tsking, she grabbed Peter's arm and began to pull him away towards the time-out area, but Peter struggled. He'd thought this plan out perfectly; if only she'd wait a second longer, she might hear-
A strangled scream and loud sobs followed, catching the teacher's ears and making her turn. She paused before hauling Peter with her as she rounded the corner- only to find something very similar to what Peter had seen earlier- Flash standing over the little boy, whose nose was bleeding profusely nose and seemed to be holding his eye.
The teacher gasped before grabbing Flash, wrenching the boy away from the crying child, and taking him by the ear. She momentarily let go of Peter, glaring at him in a way that said she hadn't forgotten him, before taking out her walkie-talkie and 'calling for backup' as Uncle Clint called it.
A few moments later- most of which were filled with Flash crying as the teacher ranted at him- a second teacher turned the corner and spoke with the first before picking up the bloodied little boy and carrying him away. Flash and Peter were roughly dragged off the playground, all the other children stopping to stare, and dragged inside to the secretary's office. They were told to sit in the waiting chairs and wait for the principal to see them.
Peter was a little worried, but at least his plan worked, so he wasn't too scared.
On second thought, Peter said to himself, scratch that. Flash was staring at him like he was imagining burning holes on Peter's forehead with a magnifying glass.
Peter looked down, intimidated. Obviously, Flash figured out his plan. He would definitely not get out of this free and clear.
The boys ended up being talked to by the principal together, and for some unfair reason, Peter was given the same punishment as Flash- as if he had any part in beating up the other kid! Both boys would have the parents called and be sent home early. They'd also have to do class chores during recess from now on until their teacher said otherwise.
Dad was gonna be so mad, Peter thought, and Flash now hated his guts for sure.
Peter's day really couldn't get any worse. He felt like he could cry.
When his Dad finally did pull up, chauffeured by Happy, Peter's eyes were red and his nose was running. Daddy opened the door for him and as they buckled their seat belts, Peter watched as another car pulled up- a really beat up truck that looked really dirty. The man that got out looked extremely angry and moved like he was gonna be violent. He grabbed Flash, who was standing on the curve, looking down, and nearly through the little boy into the passenger seat, slamming the door and nearly clipping the bully's feet. He was yelling angrily, something about having to leave work.
Peter finally looked over to his Dad- who had yet to say a word. Daddy was also looking at the man as he drove off, frowning slightly, before noticing Peter looking at him.
"Peter, what happened today?" He asked quietly. That voice was the worst, because Peter could never tell if Dad was angry, or even worse, disappointed.
Peter felt his eyes water as he tried to explain what happened at recess. His story was barely coherent in-between his hiccupping sobs, but Dad seemed to get the jist of it.
"Peter, as much as I don't like what you did, you did a very good thing," Peter stared back confused, "You should have told the teacher, instead of getting in trouble to get her attention. I know you said that you didn't want to be a tattle-tail, but bullies like that boy, Flash-" Dad paused looking back at the spot the old truck once was (they were still sitting in front of the school, Happy having yet to head home for some reason), "It wouldn't be tattling if you're trying to help someone. Adults sometimes don't see bullies, and if we can't see them, how are we supposed to know they're there if no one tells us?"
Peter considered this bit of wisdom.
Dad continued, "Now, while what you did wasn't necessarily ok, you still followed the rules, and didn't use your powers. That, I think, is reason enough to go get ice cream, don't you?" As soon as the words left his mouth, the car started, and Peter smiled tearfully, and the car moved away from the school.
Peter felt excited. He'd done the right thing in the end- maybe he'd gone about it the wrong way, but he'd learn from this, and try to do it better next time.
Looking up at his Dad, Peter noticed him frowning. He frowned too, thinking back to the mean man who shoved Flash into the truck.
Peter had never considered how to deal with adult bullies. He asked his dad just that, and received a grimace in return, "Adult bullies are meant for adults to fight, not children. Even so, we don't know what's going on in Flash's home, and it's not our place to know. We can tell the school, and they can ask the right people to check up on Flash, but we can't do anything ourselves."
Peter nodded, staring out the window; maybe bullies were like other children, they learned stuff from their parents. Peter had learned to make cool stuff with his dad, and his dad taught him important things like that stealing was bad and that you shouldn't lie. Maybe Flash's dad taught him to be mean and to hurt others. Peter frowned, so, maybe it wasn't Flash's fault that he was so mean to others. He didn't know any better.
Peter sighed, as his world became less black and white. So the bad guys might not be totally bad, and if they were, it might not be their fault.
Good vs. Bad
Peter shook his head and sighed, this was something he hoped he'd understand when he was older.
Sorry it's so long! I kept trying to find a good way to end it, and everything kept leading to something else, so it took a while. Hope you still liked it! I personally consider this part of my story's canon, but since I haven't gotten that far, I'll post it here until I think the main story needs it.
