I'm not going to sugarcoat it. This was HARD to write. Not in the sense that I had to keep multiple timelines straight or adhere to a super strict word count, but in the sense that I had to give life to some truly horrible things, and it pained me to do so. So many of you have called for a Parker prequel, and let this be your warning that it's not pretty. What you saw in Gravesen only hinted at the trauma that came before, and now you will read it in real time and at full force. These first four chapters are pretty jam-packed. Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of violence, graphic depictions of illness, major character death, and borderline suicidal thoughts.
Most of you have probably grown used to my balance of hard-core angst and fluff. This story has much more of the former, as it is told from the perspective of a person suffering from a mental illness. The stream of consciousness narration, especially towards the middle, reflects a very unhealthy state of mind. The Parker we met in chapter one of Gravesen has had months of healing, but here we will explore the rock-bottom that came before.
With that said, there will still be fluff, just probably not as much as you're used to coming from me. So that everyone can take a breath after that dire warning I just gave, I'm going to briefly hint at some of my favorite fluff moments you can look forward to in this Gravesen prequel (not in order): fun times with the foster fam, a Gravesen Christmas, some spectacular Carol content, and some truly adorable toddler Peter Parker.
I apologize for that insanely long author's note, but this story carries more weight than any other both because of the sheer reader demand and the thematic elements. All of that needed to be said. Now that's out of the way, please enjoy "They Call Me Parker."
Chapter 1: Peter Parker
He'd always loved his name. Peter Parker. It had so many things going for it. It was easy to pronounce, so teachers—even substitutes—never said it wrong. The double P at the beginning made it fun to say, and the –er at the end gave it an almost-rhyme that he thought sounded pretty cool. Plus, there was the extra loving ruffle of his hair when his dad read him Pete the Cat, Peter Rabbit, or Peter Pan books before bed. Sometimes he liked to pretend the stories were about him, that he led all these adventures himself.
Then there was his middle name, Benjamin, after his Uncle Ben. He liked having something special in common with a man he idolized more than any other, except his father. Finally, his last name. Parker tied him to the rest of his family, grouped him in with Mom, Dad, Aunt May, and Uncle Ben. Exactly where he wanted to be.
His name was actually the first thing he ever said, when he finally started speaking at the age of three, much to the relief of his parents and all the specialists they'd taken him to see. Peter wasn't deaf, he didn't fall on the autism spectrum, and he didn't have defective vocal cords. As far as anyone could tell, he just hadn't decided to talk until then. They accepted the cause of the delay as a mystery and just embraced his newfound form of communication.
Now that he'd made the choice to start using his voice, he used it often. More than anything else, he talked about his two favorite things: science and Star Wars. He came home from preschool every day raving about everything they'd learned, especially when it fascinated him—which was basically always. At dinner, he'd explain with wide-eyed excitement to his attentive parents all about the solar system, the five senses, the changing of the seasons, insects, birds, or fish, oftentimes getting so caught up that he neglected to eat until Mommy or Daddy gently reminded him. Then he'd take a bite and get back to talking, usually before he even finished chewing.
He wasn't allowed to talk about Star Wars at dinner anymore, because last time he did his enthusiasm grew big enough that he knocked Mommy's water glass right off the table and shattered it. Peter apologized more times than he could count, nearly in tears with guilt, but she didn't get mad. She only told him that he had to wait until they cleaned up the table before reenacting any light saber duels in the future. He took this lesson to heart and stuck to less grandiose topics at the table.
But after dinner, all bets were off. He and Daddy would chase each other around the living room with plastic light sabers, sometimes dueling each other, sometimes working together to protect the galaxy, and always reciting quotes from the movies with a worthy amount of drama and gravitas. Oftentimes it ended with Peter vanquishing the evil Emperor (played by Daddy) with a well-aimed slice of his light saber. He would collapse to the floor, lamenting his defeat at the hands of such a gallant hero, and as soon as he pretended to take his last breath he'd reach out and pull Peter down with him, tickling him until he was breathless with giggles.
As he grew older, his hunger for knowledge grew with him. Kindergarten frankly bored him, as he could learn the day's material in less than half the time it took most of his peers. His teacher one day took him for special testing in a quiet room in the school's library. These problems genuinely challenged him, and Peter worked furiously to answer them all. He didn't hear anything about the special test until a week later. Mommy sat down with him and asked if he wanted to skip ahead all the way to first grade.
"No," Peter insisted.
"Why not?" she asked. "Your teacher told us that you finish all your work so fast that you have nothing to do most of the day."
"I know. But I don't want to miss anything important! What if kindergarteners get to do something really fun next month and I miss out because I'm already in first grade doing their work?"
"First graders get to do fun things too."
"But Mommy, I want to do all the fun things."
"If you insist," she said with a warm smile. "But how about we go to the library this weekend and pick out some books for you to bring to school with you and read in your free time?"
"Okay!" Peter agreed. He spent the rest of kindergarten racing through his assignments so he could pull the current book out of his desk and crack it open. His teacher looked over his shoulder at his completed work and fondly congratulated him. The other kids, still trudging through their math problems or writing workshop, looked at him with jealousy. Peter smiled at them and offered to help if they got stuck, but they rarely took him up on it. When this happened, he just shrugged and went back to his book. He couldn't help it if he was smart and nice and they were neither.
~0~
"We'll come get you tomorrow morning," Mommy promised, giving Peter one last kiss on the forehead. Daddy bent down to give him a goodbye kiss too, and Peter took the opportunity to tighten the knot on his tie because it had started to come undone.
"Thanks, padawan," he said.
"You're welcome. Bye!" he called as they turned around to go. Daddy's boss was having a dinner party to discuss the plans for the company in the coming year, so he and Mommy dressed up all fancy for the occasion. Peter would be sleeping over at Aunt May and Uncle Ben's because it would run long past his bedtime.
"Don't give your aunt and uncle too much trouble," Daddy reminded him.
"I won't!" Peter promised. He knew Daddy was just kidding. Peter never made trouble. He was a "perfect angel child" as Aunt May told his parents whenever they came to pick him up after staying with them. Aunt May and Uncle Ben babysat him often, whenever Mommy and Daddy attended an event or wanted a date night all by themselves. Nights with May and Ben were some of Peter's favorites—as long as Ben did all the cooking. Aunt May liked to cook, but she wasn't very good at it. One time Peter snuck a bunch of snacks from his kitchen at home into his suitcase to give to Uncle Ben because he wanted him to have options.
Ben had laughed and assured Peter that he'd grown used to May's cooking, but thanked him all the same. They'd shared the snacks between all three of them while playing board games that night. "What do you want to do tonight, Peter?" Uncle Ben asked him. Peter made straight for the closet where he knew they kept the games and procured the deck of cards. Last time he stayed over, they taught him the rules of poker, but they'd first made him promise not to tell his parents. Peter hadn't breathed a word of it, as much as he'd wanted to. Keeping his mouth shut when he was excited about something was one of the most difficult things ever.
"Think you can beat me this time?" Uncle Ben asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
"I know I can," Peter retorted with a grin. "But only if I can have the special drink."
"The what?" Aunt May interjected. As Ben headed toward the kitchen, she stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips to block him.
"Relax, it's just apple juice in a tumbler," Uncle Ben assured her.
"It makes the game feel more authentic," Peter stated matter-of-factly. Aunt May rolled her eyes, but she let Ben pass. He came back with Peter's drink, and one for himself that smelled very different. They used coins from Ben's spare change jar as poker chips, but after the game they put it all back in the jar no matter who won. By the time Peter finished his drink, Aunt May was winning handedly after a full house and a flush in back-to-back hands. A few hands later, Peter yawned for the third time in as many minutes.
"Alright, I think we should call it a night," Uncle Ben announced. "Neither of us stands a chance at taking this game back from your aunt."
"Okay," Peter agreed. He got changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth with the red and blue toothbrush that he kept at Aunt May and Uncle Ben's place for when he stayed over. His toothbrush at home was much plainer. When he emerged from the bathroom to ask Uncle Ben to tuck him in, he found the man on the phone with a stunned expression on his face while May watched him frightfully.
"What's wrong?" he asked, tugging on his aunt's hand to get her attention. She startled, almost as if she forgot her nephew was even here, and looked at him solemnly. She didn't say anything until Uncle Ben hung up the phone. He shook his head slowly and deliberately and then he did something that completely baffled Peter—he let out a shaking sob. Peter had never been so scared in his life. "What's going on?" he asked again, desperate for answers. As soon as he heard this question, Uncle Ben composed himself. He and May guided Peter into the living room and sat down with him on the sofa.
"Peter," Uncle Ben began slowly, as if he'd forgotten how to speak. "There was a car accident while your parents were driving to dinner. They—they didn't survive."
"They died?" All the words in Ben's statement made sense, but not in that order. Peter's parents were coming back in the morning to pick him up and take him home. They couldn't do that if they were dead.
"Yes, sweetheart," Aunt May said. "I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tighter than he'd ever felt before. Peter squeezed back, not knowing what else to do in the wake of this news. Uncle Ben leaned in and wrapped them both up. The three of them fell asleep like that on the sofa, too weighed down to even think about moving.
~0~
They went back to Peter's apartment where he'd spent his entire life to gather up all his parent's things and clean it out. It felt so strange to set foot in there feeling like a visitor instead of a permanent resident. Peter didn't even believe in the word permanent anymore. While Aunt May and Uncle Ben systematically went through things, Peter dove right for Daddy's closet. He found and old sweatshirt of his and put it on, letting its massive size envelope him completely. Rolling up the sleeves so he could actually use his hands, he walked over to the dresser and opened Mommy's jewelry box to find the locket she wore most days. It contained a picture of the three of them smiling, and joyful, and together. Without thinking, Peter slipped it around his neck and curled up on their big bed in the same spot he used to whenever he had a bad dream and couldn't fall asleep in his own bed. However, instead of the two warm bodies of his parents on either side of him, Peter felt nothing but empty space.
Aunt May and Uncle Ben found him there almost an hour later. "You can keep these, if you want," Ben said, indicating the locket and sweatshirt. Peter wrapped his hand around the charm containing their picture and nodded. Aunt May helped him to pack up everything from his bedroom and move it into their guest room where he stayed last night—now Peter's bedroom. He'd never asked directly, but Aunt May and Uncle Ben made it obvious from the beginning that they would be assuming the role of his primary caretakers and legal guardians. Peter didn't need to see any fancy documents to know they'd take care of him as long as he needed them to.
He didn't speak for two and a half weeks. Mommy and Daddy weren't there to listen, so he didn't see much point. Peter woke up in the middle of the night from a dream and wandered into the living room, where he found Uncle Ben wide awake in front of the TV. He instantly recognized the movie playing: the Empire Strikes Back. "Why are you watching this?" he asked, his first words since the news.
"I know how much you and your dad love Star Wars, so I thought I'd catch up," he explained. Peter approached and gently wiped away the tear tracks on his uncle's face. "You're just like Luke Skywalker now, being raised by your aunt and uncle."
"Yeah, I guess so," Peter sighed. Of all the things to have in common with his hero, he didn't want it to be that.
~0~
By the time Peter started middle school, he'd been living with his aunt and uncle for five years. Most people that didn't know them well just assumed they were his parents, and at some point May and Ben stopped correcting them. However, with people they ended up getting to know better over time, it always resulted in that conversation eventually. He hated how profusely they always apologized for assuming Peter was May and Ben's son when they found out he wasn't. It was a perfectly reasonable assumption given their living situation. Occasionally, Peter almost slipped up and called May "Mom" or Ben "Dad," but after the one time he said it out loud and Ben nearly started crying he was extra careful to catch himself. Peter's dad had been Ben's little brother, and the last thing Ben wanted was to replace him in the eyes of his son.
Peter wore his mother's locket every day; the charm was plain and unadorned enough not to be too dressy, and it had enough room for four little photos. Currently, it housed one of him and his parents from when he was a toddler, one of him, May, and Ben, and a wedding photo featuring all four of his guardians. The fourth slot he left empty, for now. He also still had his dad's sweatshirt, though he only wore it on bad days. Now, those were few and far between. Peter's memory of his parents had grown hazy, though thanks to pictures their faces were still clear in his mind. He loved May and Ben with the same ferocity, although he definitely missed his mom's cooking. Peter might not remember all that much about them, but he remembered their food being way better than the dishes May created. Uncle Ben liked to joke with him that they'd have better odds fishing through the dumpster behind the apartment building. Sometimes, that's exactly where their dinner ended up, followed swiftly by a pizza box or two. At least May was a good sport about it, laughing at her own failures just as much as Peter and Ben did.
Middle school was the best thing to happen to Peter since fifth grade, which was the best thing since fourth grade, et cetera. Peter was always eager to learn bigger and better things, and now they offered classes of varying difficulty levels to accommodate different students. He'd tested into the highest level of everything without really trying and was elated to finally learn at a pace closer to his natural. Math and science were by far his favorite subjects, and just as he'd been doing since he was a little kid, he talked all about whatever they did that day at the dinner table. Only now the topics extended to things like algebra, history, and basic chemistry and biology.
Most Friday nights however, he raved about whatever movie they'd be watching later. More often than not, it was a rewatch of any and all Star Wars material, but May managed to sneak in a few of her own favorites and Ben occasionally convinced Peter to venture into other genres. He thoroughly enjoyed all the Indiana Jones, Back to the Future, and even Star Trek, but of course nothing could ever replace his favorite. His memories of light saber fights with his dad were some of the most vivid he retained from his childhood.
