A/N: This idea came to me while trying to work on a chapter for my other story. Don't hate me for uploading this instead of updating my other story, lol.

TW: Self-harm, abuse

"Hey, Penis!" Dread filled Peter's body as he heard Flash yell at him from down the hall behind him. His eyes frantically searched the empty corridor for Ned or MJ, desperately hoping that he wasn't alone in the hall with Flash during class. But, once again, he was, and he braced for impact as his backpack was ripped off his shoulders and he was thrown against the lockers.

"Have you been avoiding me?" The sickening smirk dared Peter to respond.

"Well, I think you would avoid someone who shoves you into lockers, too."

"Ah, so you think you're funny, Penis." He lifted Peter up higher by his shirt and Peter prayed that he couldn't feel the way his hair stood up straight on the back of his neck. "I think it'd be funnier if you weren't so fucking full of yourself."

"I'm no-"

"Walking around wearing this stupid Stark jacket… We all know it's a big fake. Where did you find the jacket, huh? The dumpster? The thrift store? Did your mommy make it? Oh wait, she's dead!" A classroom door behind Flash opened and Peter briefly felt relieved that someone might help, but it was one of Flash's cronies, who sauntered over and helped by striking Peter with a quick punch to the gut.

"Hey, they can hear you in Ms. Desandres's class, I'm gonna tell her it was a TikTok, but you need to move to the gym hall. It's empty."

"Thanks dude! Penis, you wanna walk or call your mommy to carry you?"

"I'll walk," Peter said breathily, doubling over as Flash released him. If he could just use his powers, he knew he could beat Flash in an instant, but this had been going on since 7th grade and he couldn't then, so he shouldn't now. As time had gone on and they were now juniors, Flash's abuse had only gotten worse. It went from occasionally tripping him in class or spreading a nasty rumor to daily outward physical and verbal abuse.

As they walked, Peter's dread only grew as he imagined the situations that could happen. He no longer had his backpack, but maybe Ned and MJ would find it in the hallway. He had his phone in his back pocket, but he wasn't sure if it had cracked or was even charged, truthfully. He had been out on parol until nearly 2 in the morning since May was working the overnight shift a lot more these days. Mr. Stark told his suit to send him home at 2 when they talked around midnight, and that's only because Peter was planning to stay out all night to avoid sleep and being home alone. The thoughts crept in at night and always resulted in adding a few new lines to his arm.

"In," Flash said, opening the door to a janitor's closet and mooning to Peter to go into the small room.

"Weird way to ask me out, Flash." Wrong move. He shoved Peter in and immediately kicked his ribs.

"I don't want to fuck you, Penis. You're hideous and worthless. I'd be happiest if you were fucking dead." He spat on Peter's face and continued speaking. "But before that, give me your fucking jacket, dickhead."

"Why would you want a jacket that you think is fake?" Another kick to the ribs, resulting in a sickening crack.

"You don't deserve that jacket and I bet Stark would be humiliated to see it on you. You're a disgrace by wearing that and I'm going to take it - so you can either give it to me or I'll take it."

"Please Flash," he panicked, immediately becoming more aware of the fresh cuts on his arms from their interaction during lunch and his resulting attempt to calm himself down.

"Hand it over, Penis."

"You don't want to do this. Mr. Stark is…"

"Shut the fuck up, you and I both know you don't know him." Flash grabbed the edge of the jacket off his left arm and began to pull it off, getting it off of one arm and seeing the cuts in the bright fluorescent light. "Oh, and what do we have here?!" Peter tried to wiggle his wrist out of the larger boy's grasp, but Flash held tightly.

"Quit it, you're going too far."

"You don't tell me when I'm going too far," he seethed, pressing his thumbnail into one of the lower cuts. "Little suicidal freak. I told you that you'd be better of dead, so why are you cutting across the road instead of down the street? Don't be shy… This is fucking rich." Flash continued to rip off his jacket while Peter stared at a bottle of cleaner on the top shelf of one of the racks, trying desperately to imagine himself being anywhere else.

"Jesus Christ, Penis Parker. Gonna have to start calling you a fucking emo freak. I thought you were lying before, but there's no way Stark would hire a cutter!" He laughed heartily and grabbed some rope out of his backpack, letting Peter know this was planned. He tied Peter's wrists together behind his back, with Peter not even caring to struggle, staring at the same Windex bottle.

"Thanks for the jacket, freak!" Flash yelled behind him as the bell rang and he darted back into the hallway.