#prepowers

Peter sighed as he bypassed the hallway he knew Ned was waiting in and made his way out of the school. One in the midst of a crowd.

He slipped away, down the stairs and outside. Breathing fast he quickened his pace and kept his head forward when he heard his name being called from behind.

“Peter!”

The toes of his shoe dangled off the top step. Peter turned around as Flash reached him. Flash put his hands in his pockets and Peter shifted under the gaze of his friend.

“You’re avoiding me.” He said.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, pulled the hair there when he felt the blush rise on his neck and cheeks.  

“No, I’m not.”

“Let’s not pretend I’m stupid. I know you’re avoiding me and the rest of the little group.” Flash said.  His eyes pierced Peter until he dropped them to the ground, looking small for once. “We need to talk about it, Peter.”

He was beginning to hate the sound of his name anytime someone said it. Since Oscorp, his name became more of a plea, a worry from the people around him.

Peter glanced at his watch.

“No, we really don’t. I’m late so I’ll see you around sometime.” He said turning around and walking down the stairs.

“Answer your text messages.” Flash yelled from the top of the steps to Peter.

Peter shook his head to himself and continued on his way. His stomach clenched at the confrontation and he turned off his phone, even though it was only a matter of time before something would happen and everyone wouldn’t be content with only trying to talk to him.

Still, they hadn’t tried anything too uncomfortable yet and after the conference he could distance himself further in the summer. He would have to keep working, now in the library, until after their presentation.

The subway ride was full of people on their way to jobs in the city.

It was the same subway he’d taken before to get into the city. The same one to get to the internship.  

Peter put his headphones in, blocking out the thoughts that threatened to overrun him.

He was fine.

After he got off the subway he walked by a rusting news stand. Across ten screens a woman was crying, speaking between breaths about being mugged. She called for help to the people and the government to stop the frequency of crime in her neighborhood. She called for someone to help.

Peter pulled his jacket tighter around his body and began walking again. Peter navigated through the other hordes of people and kept his head down.

Barry Electronics was situated across from a Bagel & Coffee and a Starbucks. Barry, the owner, joked with Peter that they would never run out of snacks and more often than not Peter found himself waiting in line, food order in hand.

The small brick and mortar shop door was innocuous and the sign nonexistent. Dave, his Ham friend from Dayton was the one who the one told Peter about the store and their opening.  

The bell rung as he entered the shop and rows of transmitters and radios greeted him. Classical music wound through the aisles. Peter sat behind a desk in the back where a Yaesu FT-DX3000D sat exposed. Its parts were scattered across the desk all in place where he left them yesterday.

“How’s it going back here?” Barry leaned around the doorframe, taking in the tense set of his newest employee’s shoulders.

“It’s going well, Mr. Barry.” Peter said. He stood up, pushing the chair in to face his boss. He played with the hem of his sweatshirt before looking down at the man’s shoes. The white plastic covering the toes of the Converse were pealing and brown but the red color of the canvas was bright. Peter looked at his own black ones and the holes forming in the side.

“I just wanted to apologize again, sir. I’m not the best with peo-”

“Now stop there, young man. You don’t have anything to apologize for. Mr. Steffes has been coming here for a long time and you were doing your job is all. Not your fault you knew more about the FT than he did.”

“But isn’t the customer always right?”

The man stepped into the room, pulling the ends of his beard and observing Peter.

“Well, normally that’s right but us radio folks sometimes think we know everything and when a new comer, especially a young one such as yourself, arrives it can be intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” Peter never in a million years would have thought he would be described as that.

Barry shrugged and Peter smiled with a fresh blush and another thought to the sale he’d lost them at his boss’s next words.

“You’re young and you know your stuff. That’s why I hired you, kid.”

At the nickname Peter flinched, curling his shoulders in on themselves.

“Sorry again, Mr. Barry, and thanks for putting me back here.”

The man sighed and Peter stopped himself from remembering another person who sighed the same way only a couple weeks ago.

“Think nothing of it, eh? If you’re more comfortable back here, I can deal with those pesky customers, alright?”

His shoulders dropped a smidge when Barry left and Peter got back to work. He allowed himself to get lost in the turn of the screw and the electrical board.

-

The street lights were long on by the time he arrived back at their apartment. May was already asleep and Peter leaned against the counted in the kitchen watching the ramen spin around the microwave.

He piled blankets over his lap and ate the siracha soaked noodles in bed while trying to finish some last-minute math homework for the next day.

The empty bowl sat on his nightstand beside his turned off phone. Peter worked until he fell asleep, slumped over the Pythagorean theorem.

His woke with a start, chest heaving against his pounding heart. Peter grabbed his t-shirt. Hands raked down his chest trying to wipe the blood dripping off of it away.

He brought his knees to his chest knowing in a distant part of his mind that there was only sweat there. There was no blood now. It was only a memory now.

Shivers racked his spine. Without turning on a light Peter swung his legs off the edge and walked over to his backpack. By feel he found his old notebook and brought it

Without turning on the light Peter swung his legs off the edge and walked over to his backpack. By feel he found his old notebook and brought it back to his bed. He curled under the covers and flipped to a random page.

Peter couldn’t see the words but he knew they were there stained across the page. The indents from the pen on paper created strange patterns on the tips of his fingers. Some were deep and others he could barely feel at all.

He knew his were the deeper scratches. His scrawling handwriting stabbed into the paper in an attempt to sow all his thoughts into something coherent. In the urgency to prove himself Peter often found his wrist cramping and the sides of his hand smeared with black ink. He wrote as if this was all he could, as his life poured onto the page along with the ink.

The other handwriting took up the margins and like small vines plunged into the spaced between his own thoughts on the page. The indents there were shallow, casual, in their impression. They began sparse, only filling in spaces here and there with notes of encouragement or corrections, but as Peter flipped farther into the book they began to intermingle with his writings. The two merged, playing off of each other and entangling.

Tear drops fell onto the pages, smearing the words into something illegible.

And sleep stayed a stranger till the morning. Peter woke to find the notebook crushed between his fist.

He shoved it in the crack between the wall and his bed frame as the alarm blared, before stumbling to the shower.

-

Please answer. We’re all worried about you - Julia.

Peter shoved his phone into the locker and straightened the visor he was wearing. He’d have to make sure to email her the rest of his work for their project later.

Suppressing a yawn, he walked to the front of the café mentally going over the different coffee recipes he needed to learn.

Cindy, his manager, stared at him as he began cleaning the counter and he wondered again why she was a manager at a coffee shop if she was not a morning person.

“You’re taking orders today. Can you handle that?”

No.

“Sure.” he said.

The cash register glared at him. He tapped the counter wishing the shift would go faster and hoping, against prior reason, school would get there faster.

As he typed in the code for a chai latte and toasted bagel, he berated himself for thinking he would excel at a job at a coffee shop.

There were appealing aspects such as the routine which was filled to the brim with recipes and schedules, but there were drawbacks.  People, however kind they were at normal hours of the day, weren’t at their best in the morning.

His late hours were making work before school a problem he should have seen coming. But all he thought about filling out the applications was that he needed to keep busy, to do something with his time now and not how to talk with customers.

Not to mention, now that his involvement with Stark Industries had ended so prematurely, he had to make up for it with something for his applications.

Cindy wasn’t as accommodating as Barry it turned out and this morning Peter was taking a woman in a smart suit’s order.

“Right up, Ma’am” he said, not making eye contact.

The woman stepped aside, she was a regular and knew the drill, and two teenagers around his age stepped forward asking what their specials were and how they were made.

He couldn’t wait till school.

-

He couldn’t wait till school was over.

Peter sat in stacks of the library, lunch forgotten beside him. His eyes traced over his work and school schedules again. He swallowed. One more glance at all the deadlines in red and closed his planner.

His eyes closed. He exhaled. The air around him was still.

Peter’s mind wandered around safe topics: his new jobs, May’s attempt at making flan, and the laundry he needed to do.

Someone poked him and Peter flinched back, hitting his head against the books.

“Sorry.”

Ned sat next to him munching on pretzels. The boy glanced over from the corner of his eyes and back up the aisle. Peter went to gather his stuff but Ned interrupted him before he could stand up.

“Don’t go. I- I’ll go if you want to be alone but I won’t pester you. Not right now at least.” He said the words softer than necessary for the library and Peter settled back tensed against his spot.

As if calculating his movements, Ned settled back against the shelves. He handed the bag over and Peter grabbed a pretzel, nibbling at the ends of it.

Ned smiled at Peter.

They sat in silence until the bell rang. Ned squeezed Peter’s shoulder before he hurried off to class and handed him the rest of the pretzels.

Peter held back the tightness nestled in his chest.  

-

The time in the library replayed in his mind on the subway into the city.

He’d almost forgotten how understanding Ned could. How patient his friend was.

But he knew the questions would start soon. From Ned or Julia or someone. The curiosity practically burned in their eyes and he couldn’t talk about it. Any of it.

Barry smiled from the front desk when Peter walked in.

“The FT is waiting for you in the back. I got the part she needed.”

Peter nodded and after punching his card, wandered into the back.

May was gone when he got home and a note sat at her place on the kitchen table.  He didn’t heat anything up for dinner and played his filled lunchbox back into the fridge to use tomorrow.

Peter climbed into bed, clothes on and cracked his back. He set an alarm for the coffee shop in the morning and refused to think about May’s handwriting and her missing him at dinner.

He closed his eyes and thought about coffee orders and radio parts.

The new routine was good. Peter was busy now and busy was good.

Not two hours passed from when he laid down that Peter jerked up with nightmares clinging to his pores and sweat sticking to his back.

He groped the notebook in the slot besides the bed and laid there thinking about how tomorrow and the next day would be the same.

How he hated his new routine.

Thank you all for reading! :)

A/N: Barry Electronics is a real shop in New York!

Thank you all!

You can check out my fan fiction (Elizabeth234) or AO3 account as well :)

Taglist (message me if you want to be added): @demi-starzak @whatisthou @warmwithafewfrostymoments

He shivered.

“Peter?” Julia called from ahead. He hurried to catch up, each step bringing him under the shadow of the building. It was ironic, he thought, the steps would lead down to the entrance, not up.

Standing away from the line of people waiting, Peter bent down and grabbed the papers out of his backpack before handing them to Flash. Their group watched as he talked to the receptionist. He returned with badges labeled guest.

“We have to wait here for our guide and we’re all set to go.”

Flash began to point out various awards hanging around the lobby stopping when a bored looking woman came up to them.

“Team Stark?” She said raising her eyebrow at their group nickname. Monica nodded and stepped forward to shake the woman’s hand.

“My name is Estee and I’m one of the junior research members here at Oscorp. Mr. Thompson was kind enough to orchestrate this for you today. I hear you’re interested in the anaerobic turbine? We will go see that amount other facilities today. Follow me.” She said this with an efficiency of someone always five minutes late. They looked at each other and then followed behind.

“And this is where we test all the equipment contracted out to NASA among other companies.” She pointed to a large dome like room in the center of the building. The elevator they took was on the outer wall, but it was too difficult see out the dark glass.

“No way.” Monica replied with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm. “You came up with the nanotube trenches technique?”

“I didn’t but, yes, Oscorp had a hand in it.”

“Those copper filings between the trenches are used all the time now in their equipment and spacesuits.”

They all looked at her and she shrugged murmuring something about being interested in space. Estee smiled for the first time since meeting her and they continued to talk about the different thermodynamic technologies utilized today. As they continued the tour Peter noticed her voice was quiet enough only Monica could hear.

“Aren’t they cozy?” Flash said and Peter elbowed him.

Their model was next and they were all interested in the introduction of chemicals to up the rate of decomposition while still keeping the end product viable.

“This anaerobic design catches the methane produced which can be further used for heating and electrical generation.” Estee told them and promised to send the analytics and design to them later.

Peter and Flash stayed behind to take a look at how the compost was loaded into the device. Flash drummed his fingers along the railing, complaining to Peter he had “already seen everything in this place” while Peter took notes. For the sixth time Flash glanced at his watch mumbling that now school was officially over he should duck out and go home. Peter didn’t respond.

The back of his neck prickled and he heard Frank ask: “Hey, what’s in there?”  

They all looked over to see a restricted personal sign. She sighed, first making it clear how many times the question came up in tours and then explaining it was where they did confidential lab exercises usually not open to the public.

It was normal for a facility like this to have a space like that. Peter had seen one at the Tower but that didn’t stop his curiously from being peaked. He wasn’t the only one. They all looked at each other in agreement. Monica, in a rare display of deception, stepped closer to Estee.

“Do you get to work in there?” She asked Estee, her eyes trained on their tour guide.

“Yes, all personal above a certain security are encouraged to do their research there.”

Monica stepped forward a hair into Estee’s space and Peter watched as a wisp watercolor blush stole across both of their cheeks.

“That’s so cool. I would - we would - love to see what you’re working on. If that’s possible.”

Estee regarded them each then returned her eyes to their leader. There was doubt in the furrow between her eyes but after a moment – breaths held in their collective group – she motioned them forward.

Even Flash perked up as they walked toward the red signs. The door locks clicked open and they were in.

“Follow me.” Estee instructed with Monica on her heels, followed by Frank. The rest of them tagging behind at a slower pace trying to take everything in.

“Have you ever been back here?” Peter asked Flash, eyes not moving from all the people.

“Nah, my dad would never let me back here. Look at that thing,” he said pointing to something that looked like a laser. “It’s dangerous and so cool.”

His eyes hovered around its red tip imagining all the destruction it would do when glowing hot.

Someone on the lower level caught his attention.

There, in all the chaos of science, was Seymour. Flash and Julia stopped next to him where he halted and followed his gaze.

“Shit.” Flash said when Seymour looked up from his computer.

He smiled at them slowly and Peter’s stomach clenched thinking of how that same smile appeared when they saw each other at the internship finals. The phantom pain of a blow to his back tingled on his spine. Flash stood frowning next to him. Peter wondered if they were still friends.

“Who is that?” Julia whispered.

Spurred on by her comment, Flash tapped their arms and turned them the other way, aware Seymour had left his station to follow them.

Their group came to a reluctant halt at the sound of their names.

“Look who it is. Did you have to beg Daddy to get you in here Flash?”

The trio turned around to look at the intruder. His chest was pushed forward, Oscorp badge gleaming in the light. Flash smiled wide and like he’d been doing it forever relaxed into a confident stance, legs apart and arms to the side. Peter thought he saw a flare of uncertainty in his eyes but it was gone.

“Seymour,” he said. “You work here man?”

Peter was suddenly aware of the thrumming in his veins. Without thinking his eyes went to Flash. His tone was friendly enough but there was something weary, maybe the way he stepped slightly forward in front of them, in the interaction. He’d never asked Flash what happened in the fallout over the winners of the internship only observing during his lunch days with Ned that Flash hadn’t been so chummy with Seymour after. At the time it seemed like none of his business. Now it did. Sorry wouldn’t help in this situation.

“What else would I be doing here? Touring?” He said heavy with sarcasm.

“Look, we’ve got to go.”

Before Peter could breathe Seymour stepped into Flash’s space. He wound an arm around his shoulder, staring at Peter the whole time.

From a stranger’s perspective it would be easy to image an alternative perception of this whole encounter. Catching your schoolmates’ eyes across the room before rushing over and greeting them with a smile. Simple.

“I insist on showing you guys around. After all, it’s technically because of you I’m here. Right, Flash?”

Not so simple to get away though. Flash strained against the arm around his shoulder and stepped away. There was a tightening around Seymour’s mouth but he said nothing.

“It was fair and square and you know that. I tried explaining that to you.”

Seymour grimaced. They moved into an area less densely populated. No one from their group, not even Estee, was in sight.

“That’s what you said anyway.” Seymour ripped his badge from his jacket and swiped it. This time Peter held no curiosity about what was kept beyond the door.  He stepped closer to Julia.

Their footsteps rang alone in the hallway, closed labs framing them in on either side.

“I’ll think you’ll like what’s in here.” Seymour said giving Peter a wink.

The door closed behind them, sinking them further away from their team.  He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and the overwhelming sound of his heart.

On the wall across from them glowed a still image of a rabbit. Seymour must have turned on live footage because it started moving around the cage, nosing the hay and feed scattered about the cage.

Two arms reached into its space, the doors they emerged from snapping shut leaving no room to escape. The whirling mechanisms were open to see under a clear layer of protection, some type of pliant plastic Peter guessed. The rabbit stopped, nose twitching as it watched the arms move in closer. With a snap, the arms seized the rabbit up, holding it in place despite the thrashing and scared noises playing over the audio in the room.

Peter saw Flash take a step back out of the corner of his eye.

The camera filming moved to zoom in on the other side of the animal. Peter’s face paled. The new angle revealed an open wound on its side. Dried patches of brown and glistening red covered the fur and hind foot. He could see the patches of it staining the bottom of the cage and moved to look at his feet. For a moment, Peter swore similar patches were in the concrete where he was standing.  

“Watch this,” Seymour said without taking his eyes off the projection.

Another arm entered the frame carrying a small clear vial. The rabbit twitched uttering another squeal when the arm tipped the vial over and a transparent liquid rushed onto the wound. It sunk into it and created a pinkish layer of congealed mucous. Then it started moving. Before their eyes the wound began to close up. Another projection started underneath showing a microscopic look at what was happening.

It was a process he knew all too well.

The rabbit shook, trying to pull away from the arms. Its small squeals echoing around the room. Small tears formed in the gelatinous mesh concealing the blood from view. It increasingly fractured the more the animal fought, scarring into the center of it. After no more than five minters, though it felt like forever, the tear connected in the middle and dripped off, leaving a larger, more enflamed wound than before.  

The arms tightened around the rabbit and before they could utter any protests the hologram shut off. The audio did not and after a heart wrenching there was a dull thud.

Someone started talking, gloating over their protests at them – at Peter, but there was a film blocking his thoughts. He could not move, only stare at the grey wall. Someone grabbed his arm. Flash, he thought. Then a soft face was standing before him, whispering to him and holding one of his hands.

Sounds and smell and feeling come roaring back. He remembered the feeling of going on a water slide when he was young. The plastic tubes blocked out the sounds of the water park leaving you falling with nothing but your own thoughts and the water. At the last moment, when he thought everything was helpless, the water came rushing out into the pool right before the tube emerged into the world again.

Julia let go of his hand but stayed next to him. Flash continued to look between him and Seymour.

He should have stayed in bed today.

“Well, Parker. Congratulate me. Mr. Osborn took one look at it and let me come work here after school.”

Julia spoke up though her face was pale.  “I don’t know who you are but this is stolen property”

He really should have stayed home. The rabbit would have been alive then. None of them would have had to seen that.

“Who says?” Seymour’s smile never faded.

Flash had never seen Peter’s presentation and his face was lined with confusion.

“That’s…. Its mine.” Peter spoke, eyes blazing at the boy in front of him.

Seymour scoffed.

“I don’t think so. It’s here in Oscorp. That makes it their property.”

His nails bit into the skin of his palm while his mind racked itself for an answer to the unasked question. After months of hard work; of guilt fueling sleepless nights and unending days it was somehow in another’s grasp. Someone who hated him. Someone who had mocked him all year. Peter couldn’t even comprehend how it was being tested.

“He created this,” Julia spoke stepping in front of Peter. “That’s what he used get into Stark’s internship.” She paused again before continuing though Peter wished she would stop.  “But you know that, don’t you? Because you were rejected for bribery.”

It was the first time in all their interactions Peter could say a genuine emotion showed on Seymour’s face. He took a step toward Julia, mouth squeezed into a tight line. Peter’s hands reached forward to grab onto her and pull her back if necessary.

“Why you little bitch…” he said, stalking closer and then the doors opened tearing down the waterslide tube they were all stuck in and left them exposed to the outer world once again.

They all froze. Peter’s hand gripping Julia’s backpack, Flash stood to the side looking at Seymour with wide eyes, and Julia, proud with her chin up and standing tall. Seymour moved first, stepping back with a lazy smile.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Osborn.” He said gazing at the door.  

Peter couldn’t recall much of the newcomer’s appearance besides the eerie similarities he had to the very building they were in. He was tall, all sharp angles, shadowing all the deep contours in his face and neck. And his smile. His smile curled at the edges. The only soft thing on the man’s face.

“Hello, Seymour. Glad you are showing our guests your project.” The man brought his phone up and scrolled through it not taking mentioning the strange circumstances he found them in. “We’ve got Julia Lang, Flash Thompson, your father is an excellent employee, and Peter Parker.”

He glanced up and smiled largely, leaving them with no question of who was in charge. Peter stared at the ground but he could feel eyes lingering on him.

“Welcome to Oscorp.”

Hope you enjoyed!! Here is the link to the NASA page I used for reference. 

Taglist: @verdonafrost @whatisthou @demi-starzak