TW: Abuse

***

The Wagners certainly knew how to save money.

They only spent what they made on the kids, which meant they had around $160 a week on food. All Bernard earned from his own job he kept for himself. Now that Peter had temporarily (he hoped) joined them, they had started getting a bit more money from the state, but he was also another mouth to feed. Not to mention he was older than the other kids and he had super high metabolism.

Although Miranda didn't have a job other than being a foster mom, she didn't really care what they did all day. She mostly talked on the phone to her friends or watched TV.

When Mr. Stark had called, Bernard had been upset at Diego, who had done something to the refrigerator. Now it had to be looked at. He'd been so angry he'd smashed a beer bottle on the ground, and Peter was just thankful he'd thrown it at the ground and not a kid.

Bernard had stormed out of the room and ordered Peter to take the kids to the park, which he did after cleaning up the glass, since no one else was going to do it. He'd gotten a handful of glass splinters in his palm, but he ignored them, hoping his super-healing would take care of it.

They were currently heading to the park, Peter in the lead because he was the oldest.

"Why do you get to be in front?" Kayla complained, dragging her feet. "I'm the only girl and I keep you dummies in line. I should be in front."

"We're not dummies!" Arnwaldo exclaimed as he tripped over his own shoe, which was on backwards. Peter didn't want to know how that had happened.

"Because I'm the oldest," Peter sighed.

"By how much?" Diego asked suspiciously, stroking his chin.

"I'll be fifteen tomorrow."

"It's your birthday tomorrow?" Kayla yelped. She started jumping up and down.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Billy asked.

"I didn't think it was very important."

"Of course it is, my dude," Arnwaldo panted, leaning heavily on Peter's shoulder as he attempted to fix his shoe. "Fine fifteen man, you can drive now!"

"You need to be sixteen for that, dummy," Kayla reminded him.

"Stop calling me a dummy!"

"Guys," Peter held out his arms as if that would calm them. "We'll never get to the park at this rate. You can argue later."

They gave him grumpy looks, but stopped fighting.

***

They made it to the playground with the only casualty being a worm, so Peter took that as things going well so far.

Diego and Kayla made a break for the only two swings that weren't for babies and Billy ran for the monkey bars.

"Don't you wanna go play?" Peter asked Arnwaldo, who was standing stock-still next to him.

"I'm too old for such things," he insisted sophistically, eye twitching. He groaned, then sprinted towards the swings, hollering "Wait for meeeee!"

Peter laughed and shook his head. Arnwaldo was just plain weird.

He stood there supervising them for about five minutes before someone rounded the corner down the sidewalk that made Peter's heart leap in his chest. He was talking to a girl that was a head shorter than him.

"Ned!" he screamed, breaking into a sprint. Ned's face was a blank slate of pure shock, but he quickly got over it and returned Peter's slamming hug with equal bone-crushing ferocity.

Peter couldn't understand any of their conversation for the next few seconds. It was mostly yelling and gesturing.

"Peter?"

"Ned!"

"Peter!"

"Ned!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk!"

"It's been forever--"

"I missed you so much!"

"I can't believe it's--"

"--never thought I'd--"

"--missed you more than fruit cobbler--"

Peter pulled away from Ned and gave his little sister a tight squeeze. She gave a laughing cry.

"Peter! We thought we'd never see you again!"

Peter smiled, panting from excitement.

"Isla! You got so tall!"

She snorted and gave him a dramatic curtsy. "Unfortunately not tall enough to pass up Ned."

"This is the greatest day of my life, dude!" Ned cheered, pulling Peter into a headlock hug and ruffling his hair. He gave a gasp and shook his shoulders, rattling Peter's teeth. "Did you see the new Star Wars movie?"

"Of course not, Ned!" Peter rubbed his jaw and cracked his neck. "Ouch. No, I've barely had enough money to eat!"

"Oh, right, right," Ned nodded. "I forgot. Hey, I can explain it to you in great detail, frame by frame. So we open up on an--"

"That'll be great to hear some other time," Peter patted his shoulder. "I've gotta watch these kids for now."

"Kids?" Ned craned his neck and just seemed to notice the three children heading in their direction, curious to see what all the fuss was about. Arnwaldo had gotten into a baby swing and was now desperately trying to get himself out.

"Guys! Wait up!" he yelled, kicking his legs furiously and looking quite like an overgrown toddler. "Get me out of here!"

"Ned, meet Diego, Kayla, and Billy." Each kid gave a small wave and Peter jerked his thumb behind his shoulder. "That's Francisco Arnwaldo."

"Wow! Oh, wow! Great! So great to meet you all!" Ned gave them high fives. "I'm Peter's best friend. Well, we used to be best friends when we went to the same school but then he had a thing and he couldn't come anymore so I had to finish school by myself and I didn't get to talk to him and I'm not sure if he still wants to be best friends, but I'm definitely up for it and--"

"Okay that's great," Peter chuckled nervously. "Thanks, Ned."

"Helloo," Diego stuck out his hand to Isla. "And who might you be?"

"Isla," she answered disdainfully, ignoring his hand.

"This is so awesome, dude," Ned gave him another hug. "I still can't believe you're real! Not a picture on my phone! Hey, did you get kidnapped by aliens?"

***

Peter and Ned talked for what was probably hours, exchanging stories and whatnot. Ned said he wanted to come over the next day to wish Peter a happy birthday, but Peter hadn't thought it was a good idea considering Leonard's bottle-smashing habits. He didn't mention the bottles, but they agreed to meet at Ned's house around five.

"You can't go without a birthday party," Ned had insisted. "It can also be a welcome home party! And it's your sweet sixteen! Oh man, this'll be the best party ever!"

Peter eventually took the kids home and told Miranda, who wasn't listening, he was going to be at Ned's house for a few hours.

As soon as he grabbed his backpack, he made a break for the tunnel slide on the playground. He quickly jumped into his suit, a normal teenager going in and a crime-fighting vigilante sliding out.

It felt good to be back in the suit after his three-day break. He hadn't known it, but pressure and stress from not Spider-Maning and the new family had slowly been building in his chest. As he swung around the city, the pressure slowly released, clearing his head and sharpening his senses.

He only stopped one robbery before the appliances attacked again.

He'd swung up to the roof of a building, scanning the streets for crime, when a clicking sound had started behind him. With his spidey and common sense he should've ran away, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. With his spidey sense exploding, he'd peered inside of an abandoned greenhouse on the roof.

Something had suddenly flown at his face, tazing him with little spider-legs and shooting coffee beans at his eye. He'd pried off the Thing and thrown it across the greenhouse, sending it crashing into a flowerpot. Dirt flew everywhere, and Peter was finally able to see it was another evil coffee pot.

"Not you again," Peter groaned as the coffee pot deployed a spinning metal ridge. The blades looked sharp.

"You know, I just destroyed your cousin!" Peter taunted, shooting webs at it. The little machine was surprisingly quick and agile, but it took a few hits. He didn't feel stupid at all for talking to it until later in the day.

"Yeah, I crushed 'im like a soda can!" He dove in and grabbed the machine, ignoring the pain as it swiped the little spinning wedge-thing across his wrist. He used his other hand to grab the arm the knife was on and rip it off, pulling out a few wires as well.

The cappuccino machine did a funky little dance before it shorted out and collapsed, sparks spitting from the hole Peter had made.

"Huh," Peter slowly got up from the floor and dusted himself off, tilting his head at the little machine. "You kinda let me go. Your cousin put up so much more of a fight..."

He opened the side compartment and searched through the wires and circuit boards. Finally his eyes landed on a pulsing red chip, which he slowly pulled out. It was connected to a thick wire, which took some tugging to dislodge, even for him. He doubted he could've pulled it off with his bare hands if he wasn't Spider-Man.

Something told him not to keep it, but like earlier, his curiosity got the better of him and he slipped it into his pocket. Maybe he could hack it later or something.

He pulled a few band-aids out of his backpack and stuck them on his wrist, which was now bleeding. It wasn't too bad, though.

The sun was sinking low into the sky and it was getting dark. The Wagners would probably want to eat dinner soon, so Peter changed into his clothes in a nearby store. He started the walk home, hoping he wouldn't get in trouble for leaving the house. The Wagners wouldn't get mad for him supposedly going to his friend's house, would they?

He was wrong.

As soon as he opened the door, he could tell something was off. The TV was, for one thing, but it was also very quiet.

He slowly stepped further into the house, slipping out of his shoes and glancing in the dining room.

Everyone was seated at the table except for Bernard, who was pacing around it, wooden spoon in hand. Pasta simmered on the stove, so he was probably cooking.

The kids stared at Peter with wide, fearful eyes. Miranda's lips were pursed and she sent him a glare filled with daggers.

"H--hello," Peter stuttered, slowly dropping his backpack to the floor.

"Hello to you too," Bernard said in a dangerously calm voice. "Do you know how long you were gone?"

"Um..." Peter felt his face heat up and pulse quicken. "Just a couple hours. I told Miranda where I was going, I went to see my friend who--"

"Just a couple hours," Bernard repeated slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. He began making his way over to Peter, who wanted to run away in terror. "Well, 'just a couple hours' ago, you dropped off these dang kids at the door and told Miranda you'd be leavin'. You know how irresponsible that was?"

"I--I'm sorry, sir," Peter stuttered, refusing to make eye contact even when Bernard was breathing down his face. He stared at a spot on the floor that looked kind of like Iron Man's helmet. "I don't really know the rules around here, but I just went to go see my--"

His spidey-sense alerted him of the slap coming and he dodged automatically. Bernard's hand swiped harshly through the air where Peter's face had been moments ago. He looked at Peter with anger when he dodged, and Peter figured it was about to get a lot worse.

"We left you'n the care of our children because we thought you were responsible," he spat. "You don't go leaving 'em on our doorstep after two hours, claimin' you're visiting a friend."

His spidey-sense alerted him Bernard was going to push him, but there wasn't much he could do. He didn't want to fight back and make him more angry, or worse, arouse suspicion that he didn't have the average teen's strength.

Bernard shoved him a lot harder than what he anticipated. He stumbled backwards and ran into the coffee table by the couch, sending coasters and empty coffee mugs clattering to the floor. His back jammed into the hard corner and he sucked in his breath, slowly pushing himself up from the table.

Before he could, Bernard's foot made contact with his ribs. It was a hard kick and he grunted in pain, scooting backwards against the wall. Now he really couldn't move.

"You're lucky we took you in, boy! No one else was gonna, and now I see why! I never want you goin' anywhere without our permission again, is that clear?" Leonard shouted, smacking him with the wooden spoon. He nodded fearfully, curling up into a ball. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing his super-healing would make all the pain go away tomorrow.

Bernard didn't hit him again, instead stalking back into the kitchen and muttering under his breath about Peter's worthlessnes. He slowly sat up, taking in shaky breaths. Kayla and Billy were crying and Diego's hands were pressed over his ears. Arnwaldo stared out the window, picking his nose.

"Up to bed," Miranda called angrily, pointing a finger to the ceiling. Peter nodded mutely, grabbing his backpack and running up the stairs.

He closed the door as quietly as he could, locking it and resting his forehead against the cool wooden surface. His chest felt sore, so he took off his shirt to inspect himself and sucked in his breath.

His wrist had soaked through the thin band-aids he had applied earlier, he had a bruise near his ribs where Leonard had kicked him, and a few red welts from the spoon. One of the really bad ones was slowly oozing blood. Judging from the pain in his back, he probably had a few there as well.

He couldn't tell what was blood and what was pasta sauce on his shirt, so he balled it up angrily and threw it into the laundry hamper.

He curled up in the corner and cried.

He didn't care how much he deserved this punishment, he didn't want to stay here anymore.

He wanted his old life back, with Aunt May, Uncle Ben, no spider powers, his old school, and a nice bed to sleep in every night.

He wanted to go home.