"He's not my boyfriend..."

He didn't mean for the words to fall out of his mouth, and judging by the other's expression, he really shouldn't have started there.

"Wait no!" he starts to panic and gestures quickly, "I know it was stupid, but it was the only clear thought I had in mind okay? I'm... still processing. But I know you're right, whatever I can say. You're right, and we should have talked about this a long time ago; but now isn't the right moment. But I know, Ned, okay? I know you're here, and you want to help, and I know you see everything, and you know me better than anyone else. I know, 'is just hard to open up sometimes. But I'll do it, I promise. Like, I don't know, you could come over after school – you too MJ – and we all could say everything that we have to say. Or something like that, I don't know..."

"Okay."

MJ's response makes Peter's head snap up. She was quick to answer – maybe too quick. But her eyes are not like usual, and it's a look the boy never saw on her face. He knows when she's determined, happy, angry, annoyed, tired, pissed; but this, this is different. There is some kind of relief in her pupils, and it makes the teen feel guilty. He really messed up.

Chewing on his bottom lip nervously, he takes a shy glance as his other best friend. Ned still looked overly pissed but nods his head nonetheless – and Peter lets a big sigh escape him. Now that this is settled, he just has to survive the day and avoid Flash, nothing too difficult-

"Okay, but I'm gonna bring your phone to the principle, and you can't stop me."

Peter talked too fast. He shuts his eyes firmly when he hears the girl talk once again. He knows he can't do anything about it, she will go anyways; but he's really unsure about outcome.

"You know that there is no actual proof that those texts are from Flash, right?" he really can't help but ask, a little bit of hope in his voice. Snitching on the bully wasn't a good idea at all, he could feel it in his entire body though he didn't speak his thoughts.

"I have my ways."

And with that, their conversation was over, the teacher arriving in class and shutting all the students up – but he couldn't stop Peter's chills. MJ has always been intimidating in her own way, and it sometimes confused him. He loves her endlessly though, just like Ned; but he still has difficulty to understand how she does it sometimes. She always knows. She knows when something is wrong, when something is coming up, when something is missing, and she can achieve things that normally no teenagers could. She's from a different kind than Peter, another form of genius – and he admires her. Her power is maybe in her speech, or her knowledge; maybe it is in her observant side, he doesn't know, but it's huge. She could take over the world if she wanted, and the boy is glad that he can count on her and consider her as one of his best friends.

The rest of the day goes awfully smoothly. Nothing happens. But it doesn't help Peter relax. His body remains tense – it's too calm, way too calm, and a storm is obviously going to fall on him before he goes home. There are no other possibilities.

But nothing comes.

The teen is walking into the corridor for the last time of day, preparing himself to reach the entrance, and Flash is still nowhere to be seen. It's not normal. He observes his surroundings as he passes through the crowd of students, hurrying. He just has a couple of meters left and he'll meet up Ned and MJ, they'll go together to his apartment, and he'll be out of danger; so why does his spider-senses go crazy? It makes no sense.

Except it does.

He doesn't see it, but he feels it. A hand yanks him away of his path by the backpack, violently, and before he even has the time to blink, he finds himself hitting the wall violently, someone pinning him. There it goes.

"I told you, didn't I?" Flash's voice is filled with venom, and Peter can't help but gulp. It's not going to end well. "I told you not to come, but you decided that you could disobey just like that, huh? I'm pretty sure a stupid girl like you thought she was better than me, hum? You thought I wouldn't do it, Parker?"

The boy's eyes burn with tears. He should be used to hear the bully misgender him and insult him, but it still hurts. Before he can find the time to answer, a knee connects harshly with his stomach, stopping his breath. He didn't see that one coming. Bent in half, he coughs, and his eyes widen with fear when he already spits blood. Something is wrong.

Peter turns his head to look at the teen in front of him, placing his hand between them in an attempt to stop him – in vain. Flash catches his wrists and punches him in the jaw before sending a foot to his ribs. He doesn't feel it right away, but the cracking noise coming from his side grounds the boy into reality. This isn't good. Even with super-healing, broken ribs are way too dangerous. He can't let it happen. He can't let his friends find him beaten up once again. He can't not fight back.

The teen closes his eyes for a second before opening them once again and taking a deep breath. It hurts, his lungs are burning, and something is awfully wrong, but he can't just withstand the blows. Finally listening to the tickling he feels in his body and at the back of his head, he nudges the punch thrown at him. Flash may be strong, but Peter is stronger – and he has experience. Of course, he can't move as freely as when he's in his Spiderman suit, but he surely can win a fight. He blocks the three next attacks Flash attempts with ease, and he can't help but love the frustrated frown appearing on the bully's face.

Peter really wants to fight back – to throw fists and hurt the other, but he can't. He can't belittle himself like that. So he doesn't. Instead, he catches every wrist supposed to touch his face, every leg supposed to hurt his ribs even more. He can already feel his super-healing kicking in and he grimaces at the idea. He can't heal in front of Flash, not at this pace. He has to cut the sparring short as fast as he can.

The boy's thoughts are racing. He doesn't have a lot of solutions. Breathing as deep as he can without fainting because of the pain, he prepares himself. He has to be quick. It's easy to stop one of Flash's blow, what is harder is to be able to push him down. Peter tries three times before succeeding, and as soon as he sees the body hit the floor and hear the dull sound it makes, he rushes back to the entrance. He doesn't look back, only placing a hand to his ribs. As soon as he passes through the door and finds himself outside, he hurries to find his friends.

"Ned!" his voice is hoarse and broken as he calls, gesturing the boy to go as soon as he gets their attention.

Maybe it is the look on his face, or the way he obviously is running away from something – someone – but they don't try to understand and run with him as soon as he reaches them.

"Flash." He says nothing else to answer their looks and wipe his mouth of with the sleeves of his shirt, straining it with droplets of blood.

The danger is behind him for now, and the citizens probably are taking them for fools as they make their way to the different streets leading to Peter's apartment, but he doesn't care. He has to keep going, he'll think later. He still has to patch himself up, and to put everything down with his friends. Nothing else matters for now.

The danger is too far behind or too far ahead. Neither Flash nor Doctor Strange should worry him right now.

The boy is panting, hardly breathing, by the time they reach the good door. He stumbles when he tries to enter, and he falls on the couch, quickly taking off his shirt. Wincing, he sends an apologetic look to his friends as they turn away, and he takes his binder off. He doesn't call MJ and Ned until he places his shirt in order to hide his chest. He didn't dare look down during the process, and he really doesn't want know what it looks like. The bruises, wounds, blood... he's used to feel it, but he hates seeing his body weakened.

The next time he looks up, he finds MJ kneeling in front of him with his first aid kit, and Ned already wetting a cotton with disinfectant. He can't help but smile at the sight. He really is lucky to have them – and he's lucky that Aunt May taught them the basics to heal him after she discovered the whole Spiderman thing. He doesn't say a word as his friends work, wincing and groaning here and there. He has known better days, but also worse ones; and even if he could, they just wouldn't let him touch a thing to help them. Closing his eyes through another wave of pain, he lets his head lean on the backrest of the furniture.

"Thanks," Peter mumbles in a little voice, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

He's safe – for now.

So um... hi?
I'm really sorry, I know I disappeared for a long time.
Truth is, I wasn't okay. It's still hard but I manage. I tried my best to write more of this fic, but couldn't and I somehow forgot that I had two parts already ready to be posted.... so... surprise?
I don't know when I'll post again, nor if I'll keep this fanfic here (might relocate it and post it on AO3).
But still, I hope you still like it.

Stay safe and hydrate,
H.