Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The release bell rang loud enough to continue echoing in Peter’s ears for a good few minutes. He was sure to have a blinding migraine by the end of the day thanks to the annoying ring adding onto the headache that had already established earlier in the week as a result of his recent insomnia. So, already, the beginning of his dreaded weekend was off to a rocky start, and he had to shuffle through the crowd with his shoulders pulled up to his ears to avoid being shoulder checked by another student. His patience and sanity were both teetering on thin ice and he felt that any other minute inconvenience will make him fucking explode… God, he hated Fridays. 

Everyone was always so excited, which just seemed to sour his mood even more. Listening all day to the weekend plans his peers would discuss in whispered undertones during class, or amongst the chaotic chatter of the lunchroom-- about spending time with their families, and friends, maybe going on a short little vacation-- it got to him sometimes. It made his eye twitch, and it made him scowl. He had never used to be a person prone to envy, but lately, he’s found himself grinding his teeth when he overhears the fantastical tales his classmates would speak about during school. Whether it was about the new phone they got for their birthday, or simple complaints about their sibling trashing their room… Peter always found something to be jealous of.

“Peter!” Ned pushes through the crowd when he spots him, “Have you started the English project yet?” Ned grasps the straps of his backpack with both hands, grinning in anticipation as they walk towards Peter’s locker at the end of the hall. “Who did you decide to write about?”

Peter frowns… the stupid English project. It’s like the teacher couldn’t find a better way to torture an abused orphan. 

“No, I haven’t started yet,” Peter grunts. Usually he’d apologize for his salty mood, but Ned’s known him long enough to remember that Friday’s were not as joyous an occasion as most students found it to be. Plus, his stomach was killing him. It’s only been a few hours since lunch and it already felt like his insides were clawing a hole through his abdomen. That didn’t help his mood. “It’s not due for another, like, four months. I’ve got time.”

“Yeah, but you gotta do a whole powerpoint, and a whole philosophical analysis… you did see the rubric right? This project is going to take forever!” Ned groans dramatically, following Peter through the slowly emptying hall now that he’d finished at his locker. “I think I’m gonna get MJ’s help. She’s a sucker for this sorta thing.”

“--Sucker for what sorta thing?”

Speak of the devil.

“The English project. Peter hasn’t even started on his yet.”

“You might wanna get on that Parker,” MJ points out, “you may be a genius, but you can’t write a 7 page analytically comprehensive essay in a night. Also, I’d advise studying up on Plato’s philosophies on morality. He has some interesting ideas that go along with the whole ‘defining a hero’ concept Mrs. Morris likes. I’m actually surprised she didn’t recommend his book before assigning the project.”

MJ zones out in thought and Peter stares at her. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her speak for that long in a single period of time.

“Yeah, but I don’t even know who to write about, and that’s the backbone for the whole project.” Peter eventually says, shoulders slumping in defeat. He rubs his head while he’s at it. The ringing had at least finally stopped, but now the lights were a bit bright and he was only dreading the walk home beneath the bright afternoon sun… Maybe he could stop by Delmar’s for an hour or two. He could probably scrounge up enough change along the sidewalk for a sandwich too. Or maybe offer to work for it. Mr. Delmar’s let him wash the dishes in payment for a sandwich before.

“What about your Uncle,” Ned offered, “he was a police officer right? And he went head to head with Iron Man when he was tearing up the city! You could write about that.”

Peter laughs with a humorless undertone. “Sure, because he definitely stood a chance before the first repulsor blast tore a hole through his chest.” Peter grimaced at his own words, wincing at the disrespect in his tone like he was expecting Ben to rise from the grave to exhibit his disapproval. It’s been three years, yet he still reacts like his Uncle was still around to enact a punishment. 

Weak, Parker… weak. 

“Wow,” MJ scoffed. “Morbid, much?”

“Sorry,” Peter sneered, “I’m just kinda grumpy today.” 

Ned’s mouth fell into a frown. “Oh yeah. I’m sorry Peter. I forgot.”

“What’s wrong?” MJ asked, and if Peter wasn’t mistaken, he’d say there was a smidgen of genuine worry in her tone.

“Peter hates Fridays,” Ned answers for him, “he has to do chores all weekend.”

Yeah… the chores weren't really the problem. 

“Well, sucks to suck,” MJ chuckled, “have fun cleaning Parker.” And with that she waves, breaking away from the pair when her mother honks the horn from the car-pickup line.

Ned grabs his shoulder. “I’m really sorry Peter. Hopefully he’s a little more bearable this weekend. You’re always welcome to come over if you’re able to get away. My Mom’s making the Poi you like.”

Peter shakes his head. “You know I can’t, Ned. I wish I could.”

“Alright then,” Ned sighs, “I’ll see you Monday, and I’ll make sure to bring you some leftovers!” Peter smiles. He didn’t deserve a friend like Ned. No one did. “Maybe you could use the project as an excuse to stay in your room this weekend.” Ned smiles, hoping to lift Peter’s spirits, and Peter’s too afraid to tell him it wasn’t worth the effort, so he just kept smiling and bid his best friend goodbye before tugging his hood over his head to block out the sun and heading back to the apartment, keeping his pace slow and allowing himself to absorb the last hour of peace before the weekend truly began.

He was in for a long couple of days...

He steps through the door, closing it behind himself as quietly as he could manage, but it was no use.

“Peter!” The joyous shout made him wince scornfully. “How was school?”

The man steps into the room, wiping flour from his hands with a dish cloth and grinning like there was nothing wrong with the world. 

“Good, sir,” Peter answers with a numb frown and dull tone, “I have a lot of homework this weekend, though.”

“Sorry to hear that pal,” the man frowned. “Why don’t you get a head start on that so you still have time to do your chores this weekend?”

Aaaand that's exactly the plan. Peter offered him a tight smile and escaped to his room. He shuffled around for a while, deciding whether he should power through his procrastination and get started on that project, or just lay face down on his mattress and wallow in his own misery, hoping his migraine would magically go away.

He decided the former would be better, just in case an impromptu visit from his foster father was in his near future. So he powers through the dull throb in his head and sits at his desk, grabs a pencil and a clean sheet of paper and begins to brainstorm… he thinks of every person he knows who may be qualified to star in the project worth half his grade. He’d probably choose Mr. Delmar if he knew more about him… he didn’t think he could write an entire 7 page, in-depth, essay about the sandwich shop owner without at least conducting an interview first, and he’d rather not go through that awkward exchange. 

Ned was the closest second, but he knows Mrs. Morris wouldn’t approve of him using a peer as his self-proclaimed hero. And, god, Ned would go all mushy on him and he really didn’t want that either.

He toys with the idea of using Uncle Ben, just to have something to throw on the page, but his conscience wouldn’t let him do it… not when he knew the man for who he was outside of the uniform.

So, he makes a list-- A checklist to be more precise-- to help him make an informed decision 

What makes a hero?

• Brave
• Honest
• Selfless
• Good
• Caring
• Strong…

The list went on, and at the rate he was able to scribble down the words, the faster he came to realize that by these standards there was no one in his life qualified to don the title of his hero. 

He pouts… staring down at the first sheet of paper he’d neatly laid over his desk. It was blank, besides his name scrawled in the top right corner. Out of all the essays he’s written, he thinks this might be the hardest of them all. Give him a prompt, and a research topic and he can write all day long, but using his own opinion and discretion? On a matter inherently personal and subjective? Most people would find it easy, but it was going to be a struggle for him.

He had no hero to write of… but maybe that in itself was something to write about. Mrs. Morris might appreciate the unique twist. So, he begins to write. He lets his pen scrawl across the paper, jotting down any thought that comes to him in hopes it will spark some sort of creativity...and he doesn’t stop until his hand is cramping and he forces himself to look back through his messy scrawl of his rough draft to correct any mistakes he might have made.

Peter B. Parker

Mrs. Morris

English 101

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

            “With great power comes great responsibility,” a wise man once told me. At the time I wasn’t sure what it meant, or the implications behind the words, but now I think I understand it better. This is why I’ve come to the conclusion that I do not have a hero. Most students would probably choose their parents, or one of the Avengers, but for me both of those would be used in the past tense. To be a hero is so much more than just helping people. It takes determination, courage, morality, and strength, because the load any hero must carry is heavy, and most can’t handle the weight. Heroes are a thing of the past, and I theorize that they may not have ever even existed at all. A man or woman may appear heroic, but that does not make them a hero at heart. In this thesis I will discuss examples of heroes of the past, the struggle they had faced, the criteria I believe makes a true hero, and the string of elements that have brought me to the conclusion I’ve drawn.

            First, I would like to bring out a prime example of my theory: Tony Stark, aka. Iron Man. He was once known as a great hero, possibly one of the greatest of all time. Had he not done what he did, Tony Stark would be the theme of this essay, but instead his transgressions have inspired doubt and bitterness. In another life he would still be considered a great man, and I would have continued to look up to him, but the pressure he faced crushed whatever goodness he had before. The pressure of such a strong responsibility can easily become overwhelming, and a debilitating mental disorder is not uncommon in his line of work. “A career dedicated to protecting and serving others may leave minimal time for self-care in addition to being frequently exposed to trauma. The unique pressures experienced by these first responders lead to a high occurrence of substance use and mental health disorders” (Hull 2012)...

Peter frowns as he reads through what he just wrote. He was in no way trying to excuse the actions of Tony Stark, yet that’s what it was sounding like. What the man had done was despicable and unforgivable, and Peter couldn’t think of a better example to prove his point. Tony Stark was no hero… there was no such thing as heroes anymore. But, as per the rules of essay writing, he couldn’t be entirely subjective. So he must prove his point through facts and logic, and Tony Stark was a prime candidate to do just that.

... There is plenty of speculation regarding Tony Stark’s breakdown, though most of the theories can be trailed back to a long line of undiagnosed mental health disorders. This fact in no way excuses the actions Tony Stark committed, just as a person suffering from psychopathy is not excused for any violent actions they may commit…

There, that makes him feel better.

...This account is simply to help better understand why Tony Stark may have chosen the path he did when he held so much promise in the future of his career. 

            Before Tony Stark ever donned the title of Iron Man, he had suffered from many mental illnesses. Ranging from alcoholism, to severe depression and dissociative tendencies (Everheart 2009). After becoming Iron Man, he did amazing work that would have properly designated him as a hero according to the criteria I have put together. He put the people first, he created several charities dedicated to helping people in need, and he helped form the avengers to save the world from the extraterrestrial attack of 2012. He was selfless in many ways, but selfish in so many more, and this alone disqualifies him from his heroic position. His position in this particular tile of my rubric, had gone unnoticed for many years, forgotten after his former years of malicious and careless actions. One day, it culminated, as most already know, after he lost his longtime partner and friend Pepper Potts in an accident. This, as most believe, is the driving force behind the mass murder that followed. There are still many missing details in regards to this complete turnaround in his character. Even before the Avengers were betrayed and killed by one of their trusted leaders, there had been many testimonies coming forth of the sudden animosity between them and Stark. The people turned against him as soon as word spread, and government officials even attempted to detain him. There is plenty of video feed of the occurrence, most capturing Stark’s attempt to explain the reason for his actions of killing his former teammates, but the disregard and the hatred people rightfully spewed led to a devastation of New York far worse than what the city had seen a year prior. These were the acts of a troubled man. A man who was once considered a hero; one of the best the world has ever seen, yet the natural mental disposition of man led to his downfall. That is why no man can be considered a true hero.

Tony Stark killed his family. Tony Stark was responsible for his suffering. The man deserved a death far more tortuous than the one he enacted on himself. Peter’s glad he’s dead… because if he was alive, he might just consider doing the deed himself. He can only hope the man was rotting away in hell.

Peter stares down at the page, scowling at his own words. Just because he couldn’t be a true hero like he aspired to be, didn’t mean he couldn’t try. He could-- no he would be better than Tony Stark.

He turned in his desk chair to stare at his ratty backpack which held his most prized possession, then he glanced back towards his bedroom door. It was too risky to go out now; he’d have to wait until Beck drank himself into a drunken stupor before he could sneak out the window. He was exhausted… and his bones felt heavy, but he couldn’t use that as an excuse. Maybe he’d take a short nap after dinner to replenish his energy before going out, but for now, he decided to put the essay aside and begin on his Calc work. After all, the hardest part of an essay was starting.