TRIGGER WARNINGS: Rape, non-consensual physical intimacy, child sexual abuse (16-year-old committing it to a 10-year-old; later 23-year-old to a 17-year-old), extensive discussion of said abuse, references to suicide/self-harm, brief talk of teenage prostitution.

A/N: I've had this one on the backburner for a while. I've been toying with how it would go and, with my recent Road to Infinity War marathon, decided it's one of those things in between the events of Homecoming and Infinity War, seeing as there's a two-year gap between them.

Monday. The day everyone hated most. Peter was less than enthusiastic about going to school, which he used to love, but not so much following Liz's departure to Oregon and the whole Vulture debacle, as well as Aunt May finding out his double identity as New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, which was succeeded by one of the only times he'd ever had his aunt hollering at him. She had finally relaxed—or at least, stopped shouting—once Mr. Stark talked to her—Peter wasn't a part of that conversation but he had a feeling he knew how it went—but she still ordered that Peter stop patrolling at eleven. The thought of Spider-Man having a curfew bugged him.

"Yo, Penis Parker!" Peter exhaled. The sound of Flash's voice was not a good way to start the day. Peter dodged being bumped by Flash's car, which Peter had heard Mr. Thompson made Flash drive despite being stolen—and subsequently damaged—by Spider-Man. He couldn't help the grin playing at his lips. "Move it!" Flash honked the horn, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

Peter's shoulders sagged and he stepped out of the road, narrowly stepping on a skateboard that was just lying on the sidewalk. The brunet bent down and picked it up. Whoever owned it needed to keep track of their stuff. Flipping it over, he raised an eyebrow, observing the art that had clearly been done by an assortment of Sharpies. The owner's name was there. Jackson Shanley. Peter nodded and headed inside; he'd never heard of the guy. He was probably new.

Jackson stood at his locker, staring at the empty metal box. He glanced around, seeing the pictures and little pieces of their lives other people had put up. His first day back and he felt lamer than ever. He dug around in his bag for a memento of some kind, eventually producing a picture he'd taken of Spider-Man in Times Square. The boy smiled, tucking the photo on the bottom of the door.

"You a freshman?" He turned at the sound of a voice laced heavily with ego. A boy, probably a year or two younger but at least a few inches taller than himself, stood before him. He was flanked by a couple average looking guys. Jackson had more than enough experience with people like this so he crossed his arms and leaned against the open locker.

"Senior," he answered, looking at the darker-skinned male with distaste.

"You're a senior? But you're so tiny!" The goons laughed stupidly. Jackson rolled his eyes. If these guys were even half as moronic as he suspected, how the hell did they get into a school like Midtown? Rich parents, he assumed.

"Kick his ass, Flash," one of the guys said.

"What kind of nickname is Flash?" Jackson made a face. "Let me guess. You bust a nut in seconds? That charm of yours is gone in a flash?" Flash's face had begun to go red. "You're not intimidating, no matter how much you want to be. You seem more like a... What's the word I'm looking for? A nerd." Jackson snapped his fingers. "I got it. Decathlon. You're the fastest to hit the buzzer. Am I right?"

Flash didn't say anything. Jackson straightened up and he got chest to chest with the other. "Don't you know me? I know word travels fast in high school, any high school. I got a nice, long—rather unnecessarily overlong—suspension. Know why?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I put three people in the hospital, all intensive care. Want that pretty face all busted up?"

Peter had no idea but the second he saw Flash and two other guys harassing some poor kid, he had a feeling that the victim was none other than the skateboard owner. Said boy was dressed like a stereotypical emo kid: stylishly ripped jeans, sleeveless T-shirt, spiked bracelets facing outwards, eye shadow and a hairstyle that could easily rival Green Day. He put the artwork and the boy's outward appearance together. Peter kept his distance from the confrontation but his enhanced hearing picked up everything.

"Pretty, huh?" Flash scoffed. "I think all of this," he waved Jackson up and down, "is some cover. Looking tough isn't going to make you tough." He backed off and made to leave. "See you later, midget." His cronies laughed as they walked away.

Jackson turned back to the metal door and began counting. Clearly, he was trying to control his anger. Peter waited until ten before going over. On approach, he could feel his Spidey senses acting up. "Jackson?" The boy looked up as if daring him to say something about his look. "I think this is yours." He held out the skateboard.

Bright blue eyes instantly softened. "Oh, I'm sorry, man. Thanks." He took the board. "You probably just saw what happened. It took so much self-control not to deck that guy."

"Flash can be... a bit of a handful." Understatement of the century there, Parker.

"More like fucking tool. Dealt with many like him before. They're usually... well, bigger. I mean, I'm probably an inch or two smaller than him and I could totally kick his ass." Jackson forced his bag into the locker, utilizing a little extra strength. "Never caught your name, by the way."

Peter grinned. He liked this guy. "Didn't throw it. Peter. Parker." He held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Peter." Jackson returned the gesture. "Y'know, I've been meeting a lot of people with alliterative names. Peter Parker, Reed Richards, Wade Wilson..." He winked and looked at the paper in his hand. "By the way, you know where Mr. Lieber's homeroom is?"

Peter couldn't stop thinking about Jackson. He was unlike anyone else he'd ever met. He overheard a couple girls in class whispering about him while he was making new web fluid. A snippet of their conversation included Jackson being an orphan and had a lot of behavioral problems, including having hospitalized a number of people before he disappeared. Peter couldn't imagine Jackson doing that to someone but he barely knew the guy. He just saw his good side, or most of it.

"You want to come over and build more Death Star later?" Ned whispered from Peter's other side.

"You know it." Peter shut the drawer and looked up, beaming. "You hear anything about this guy named Jackson?"

Ned glanced around and leaned over. "Contrary to popular belief, he's not new. He's been gone for a few months after his parents died." Peter knew the feeling. "Car accident, they say."

Peter glanced down at the closed drawer. "He seems kind of... might have some anger issues. And I think he's more than what he's dressed as. As in, more than a normal kid."

"You think he's—"

"I dunno. Maybe?"

"Mr. Parker, would you care to share your conversation with Mr. Leeds?" The teacher tipped her glasses at him.

He shook his head. "No, ma'am."

"Keep it for after class." Peter and Ned shared a look but silenced.

Jackson dreaded the day he'd have to return. He was good at the front he put up. The emo kid persona was, hopefully, a cover for people to leave him alone. So far, not going very well. He walked into homeroom and everyone was staring at him. He figured most of them were trying to figure out if he was new.

"Jackson?" He spun around to see a group of who were his sort-of friends before the accident. "Oh my God. Is that really you?" Jason stepped forward and looked at him with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

Betty kept a distance. "Is it true? Wh-what you did?"

"What other senior is the size of a freshman?" They were used to his sarcasm. "Yeah. It's true. You know me. Good old unpredictable Jackson." He smiled a little. "But I'm okay. Really." He really wasn't but he hated being a burden on his friends. "Where's Liz?" She was the first girl he'd ever gone out with, in their sophomore year, before Jackson came to terms with his preference for men. She supported it and they spent a lot of time talking about boys.

The group looked at each other. Betty cleared her throat. "Liz... moved. Her dad was involved in some underground criminal thing and didn't want her and her mom here for the trial." She rooted around in her bag for a moment and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Jackson. "She entrusted me with this for you."

Jackson took the letter and stared at it for a moment. "Thanks, guys." He smiled softly.

"Mr. Shanley." He looked towards the front of the room. Mr. Harrington gave him a smile. "Glad to have you back. I take it you'll be rejoining Decathlon?" He cleared his throat. "Once you've reassimilated, of course."

Jackson nodded. "Yeah. Totally." He did miss the team. There was probably a new crop of them, after his time away. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Wait. Is that him?" Ned pointed a French fry at the popular table, where Jackson was sitting between Jason and Betty. "If he's hanging out with them, he probably knows—" He stopped, glancing at Peter, who was fidgeting with his web shooters under the table.

The brunet looked up. "Yeah. That's him." That sense was going haywire again. "And I'm feeling it. I wonder what he is."

It felt good being surrounded by his friends again. Jackson glanced up to see Peter and he put up his hand in a wave.

"You know Peter Parker?"

"Met him this morning. Cool guy." Jackson had a strange, tingling feeling Peter wasn't like most kids but he ignored it. "Why? What's up?" His friends glanced at each other. "What? It's not like he's Spider-Man. Come on."

Peter felt the back of his neck heat up. He caught the words out of Jackson's mouth.

"It's nothing major. Just... something's off about him. He disappears all the time. Like he went to the dance with Liz, and then he bailed."

"Uh-huh." Jackson popped a chicken nugget into his mouth. "Well then, I'm going to keep my friendship with him because you two are always busy with the news and probably making out when I'm not looking." Jason and Betty looked scandalized. "Please, just because I'm gone for four months doesn't mean I haven't noticed." He eyed their hands being dangerously close to each other. "Yeah." He picked up his tray. "See you lovebirds later."

Ned cleared his throat. "Incoming!" Peter dropped his web shooters into his bag under the table.

"Hey, guys." Jackson sat down across from them. He'd actually removed the eyeliner before lunch due to its uncomfortability. "I'm Jackson." He held out his hand—decked out with black nail polish—to Ned, who stared at him for a moment before returning the gesture. "Sup with you, Parker?"

Peter looked up and a gentle smile crossed his features. "Just... lost in thought, I guess."

"I get that. You guys doing anything after school?"

"We're building a Lego Death Star!" Ned blurted out. Peter glanced over at Jackson, expecting a laugh or derisive snort from the older boy.

Instead, a smile slowly spread across Jackson's face. "Dudes, I cannot even begin to tell you how big of a Star Wars nerd I am." He pulled out his phone to show them his lockscreen, which was a self-created portrait of C-3PO and R2-D2. "This took me three days to finish."

Both boys leaned forward in awe. "You... made that?" Ned's voice was hushed.

"Pete found my board this morning." He held it up. "If you look really closely," he pointed a finger, "there's Skywalker's lightsaber as the L in my surname."

Peter and Ned looked at each other, almost unable to contain their excitement over their new friend. "You want to come over?" That feeling was back but Peter pushed it to the back of his mind. He trusted too easily but Jackson seemed so cool, and he and Ned didn't have anyone at their level of nerdiness.

"Sounds awesome."