Okay, guys. This is it! I have completed Whumptober! It was a lot of work, but I'm so glad I did this! I want to thank everyone for their favorites, follows, and comments. Specifically, Belbelanne and EmilyAnnMcGarret-Winchester for all of their encouraging comments! You guys are the best!

Prompts 28, 29, 30, and 31 The last three prompts were supposed to be numb, recovery, and embrace, but I decided to change them to fit this chapter.

Rating: T

Peter is abused and neglected by his aunt and her boyfriend.

Warnings: violence and some language.

I'm sorry for cramming four prompts into one again. This one is the longest chapter, so I hope that makes up for it! I'm ready to be done with Whumptober. I really want to get back to my multi-chapter MCU fic.

I was hungry when I wrote this so I was overly descriptive in the beginning. Sorry about that!

Beaten, Touch-Starved, "Stay Quiet", and Breathless

Peter Parker has made a lot of mistakes in his life. His biggest mistake was telling May about Spider-Man.

Avengers

"Peter!"

The teen jumped when May shouted his name. He scrambled off his bed, down the hall, and into the living room as fast as his legs would carry him. "M-May?" he asked timidly.

"Mark will be home an hour early. He wants dinner ready when he gets back." She wouldn't look at him when she spoke. She hardly ever looked at him anymore. She usually tried to pretend that he didn't exist.

Peter looked at the clock. Mark would be home in less than an hour. He felt his eyes sting as he went to the kitchen.

He pulled a pot from the cupboard, filled it with water, and set it on the stove to boil. Next, he grabbed a package of angel hair and a jar of marinara. He took the meatballs out of the freezer and preheated the oven.

He hoped that he would be able to get everything ready in time. He really didn't want Mark to get mad again.

He poured the sauce into a pan and put a lid on it so it didn't splatter. When the oven was at the right temperature, he dumped some meatballs onto a cookie sheet and put them in. He was careful to measure the right amount of pasta before he dropped it into the boiling water.

He was only ever allowed to eat what he was given. If he made too much food, he would be punished for wasting it.

He retrieved everything he needed to make the salad. He chopped the vegetables and tossed them with some dressing. He strained the pasta and removed the meatballs before he grabbed the garlic bread and placed it in the oven to warm.

He made sure to wash the dishes as he went; Mark hated it when Peter left a mess.

He poured the angel hair into a bowl, mixed the marinara and meatballs into another bowl, and set the table. He was just pulling the bread out of the oven when he heard the door open. He quickly started cutting the bread with trembling hands. He managed to cut half of it and set it on the table before Mark and May walked in.

He stood in front of the stove as they sat down. "Do we get anything to drink with dinner?" Mark asked.

Peter's trembling increased when he realized his mistake. "Y-yes! Of course. I'm sorry, I'll get it now." He took two glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the table before he went to the fridge for the wine. He poured some into each glass and set the bottle on the table.

"Thank you, Peter. You may go now."

"Thank you, sir," Peter whispered before he left the kitchen and went to his room. He shut the door and sank onto his bed, wrapping his arms around himself. He wondered why Mark came home early. It had to be part of the reason he was in a good mood.

Peter looked around his room. A couple of months after he told May about Spider-Man, she started dating Mark. May had barely spoken to him in months; she hadn't smiled once. Peter hated that he was the reason. When she started bringing Mark home, Peter had hoped that life would get better.

He had been so wrong. Mark hit Peter for the first time after just two weeks. He made sure that May didn't know about it. Then, two months later, Mark backhanded Peter in front of May. Everyone froze. May looked between them with a confused expression before she turned and walked away. She never said anything. After that, Mark hit him all the time.

Three months later, they moved out of the apartment and into the man's home. It was a two-story, four-bedroom, two and a half bathroom house. Peter was given the tiny room in the back corner of the house. It didn't have a window, so it wasn't technically a bedroom. He had a mattress in one corner and a shelf in the other. He had two shirts, one hoodie, two pairs of pants, four pairs of socks and underwear, and one pair of shoes. He also had three books that he had read cover to cover more times then he could count. That was it; he wasn't allowed to have anything else.

Peter had been kicked out of Midtown a month before school ended his sophomore year. His grades had dropped, and he lost the scholarship that paid his tuition. That's when Mark told him that he wouldn't be going back to school. Peter had cried himself to sleep for days. School was the one place he felt safe. He had Ned, and no one tried to hurt him or yell at him. Flash still bullied him, but it was usually just name-calling, that he could deal with.

Now he had no escape. He was allowed to leave the house to go grocery shopping, and that was it. Sometimes he wondered what would happen when he turned eighteen. Would they kick him out? Would they keep him here? He didn't have the willpower to fight back anymore. It had been beaten out of him a long time ago.

His stomach growled, and he hoped that there would be some food left when they finished. He wasn't allowed much food; it had taken its toll on his body. He was so skinny that he could see all of his ribs when he looked in the mirror.

It had been over a year since that day. He could still stick to things, but his strength and healing had diminished about a month after May found out. She took his suit, and he never saw it again. Sometimes he wondered what people thought about Spider-Man's disappearance. Did they think he died? Or worse, did they think he gave up? Maybe he did. He could have taken his suit and run, but he couldn't leave May. What would Ben think?

"Peter!"

Mark was in a really good mood. He didn't usually call Peter by his name; he usually called him boy. He stood and quickly made his way to the kitchen. "Yes, sir?"

"We're done."

"Yes, sir." He watched them leave before he went straight for the food. The pasta was gone, but there was still a little sauce left. He grabbed the two remaining pieces of bread and used them to scoop it out. There were also a few bites of salad leftover. Once he had eaten every last drop of food, he went about cleaning up. He put the bread he didn't cut away before he did the dishes and wiped down the surfaces. He drank as much water as he could straight from the faucet; he didn't want to dirty a cup.

He went back to his room and hoped tomorrow would be a good day.

Avengers

It had been a week since Peter's 'good day'. The days had been okay enough, but last night, Mark came home early, without warning this time. Peter didn't have dinner ready, and he was furious.

Peter had been sent to his room till after dinner. He paced for a while before he curled up in the corner. He jumped to his feet and pressed himself into the corner when he heard footsteps approach his room.

Mark threw the door open, and Peter flinched when it bounced off the wall. He couldn't hold back a whimper of fear when he saw the belt in the man's hand. Mark stormed over and threw him to the floor, ripping one of his two shirts before he started to beat Peter.

He pulled himself from the memory as he neared the grocery store. Usually, he would bring his backpack with him to carry some of the heavier food in, but that wasn't an option today. Not with his sore back. He was glad that he hadn't bled. He only had one shirt now, and he didn't want to ruin it.

He walked through the doors and grabbed a cart before he took out his list. He walked up and down the aisles to collect everything he needed and then checked out and paid. He had made it halfway across the parking lot when someone opened their car door and bashed him in the side. He yelped and dropped several bags as he fell to his knees. He looked on in horror as the jug of milk broke and flooded the ground and the eggs cracked and oozed to mix with the milk.

"Oh, shit! I totally didn't see you, kid!"

Peter could hear the words, but they didn't register. He was too busy panicking to focus. All he could think about was how angry Mark would be when he found out. Last night's punishment would be a walk in the park compared to what he would do for this. He could feel tears on his cheeks as he tried to get his breathing under control.

He yelped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He brought his hands up to cover his head and cowered in fear.

"Woah! It's okay, kid. I'm not going to hurt you. That was 100% my fault." Peter looked up and gaped. The man standing over him was none other than Tony Stark. He had been his favorite superhero since forever. And he was cowering on the ground as he cried like a baby.

In front of Iron Man.

A puzzled look crossed the man's face before it morphed into anger. "Who did that to you?"

Peter gasped and pulled his hoodie down to cover the welts and bruises on his back. "N-no one," he whispered before he turned to gather his remaining groceries. He was trying to find a bag that wasn't torn or covered in milk.

"Stop." Peter froze. "Who did that to you?" he asked again, more forcefully this time. He placed a gentle hand on Peter's arm and carefully helped him up.

"No one."

"Okay, well, I could give you a ride and explain why half of your groceries are missing to your parents.

"Uh- no, no, you can't- I mean- they're-"

"Slow down, kid. I could just call someone then."

"No! Please don't. I'll be fine," Peter insisted.

"Okay, suit yourself." Tony patted him on the shoulder and helped him gather his bags before he turned and walked into the building.

Peter took a breath turned toward the bus stop. He hoped that the eggs and milk they had would last the week.

Avengers

Tony couldn't stop thinking about the kid. He had been pretty freaked out, and when he mentioned talking to his parents, he could see the fear in his eyes. Not to mention how skinny he was and the welts on his back. He didn't want to interrogate him in the parking lot. He could see the growing panic and had decided to back off on the questioning.

He had forgotten what he had stopped for, but he didn't care. He was going to figure out what was going on with that kid.

He talked to some of the employees about him. He found out that his name was Peter and that he came to the store every Wednesday. Several of the employees had noticed that way he flinched at noises and shied away from touch. Some of them had even see scars or bruises. They tried to offer help, but Peter always insisted that he was fine. No one wanted to report him because they knew how terrible the foster system could be. They thought he might already be in the system, and no one wanted to make it worse.

When he went back out to his car, he was glad that he had slipped his watch into one of the bags. He followed the tracker to a house a few blocks away and parked across the street. He decided to do some research before he knocked on the door. He wanted to know who he was dealing with.

Avengers

Peter was in his room; an expensive Stark watch rested in his hand. He couldn't believe he had found it in one of the bags. He didn't know what to do with it; would Mr. Stark report it stolen? He couldn't let anyone see it. Maybe he could mail it to him?

He shoved it under his pillow when he heard the front door open. He heard May and Mark laughing, and he hoped that they wouldn't notice the missing groceries.

Peter didn't cook on Wednesdays; Mark always ordered food. Peter rarely ever got any, so he would probably have to wait until tomorrow to eat again. The last thing he had eaten was May's leftover eggs from breakfast. He had grown used to the gnawing emptiness in his stomach a long time ago, but it still hurt. He had little energy most of the time; he slept a lot. He knew it was getting worse. He could barely get to the store and back anymore.

About an hour later, Peter heard the fridge slam shut and Mark's raised voice. His breathing sped up, and he backed into the corner. He tried to keep the tears at bay, but when he heard Mark storming through the house, he couldn't stop them. His door banged open, and he yelped when a hand tangled in his hair.

"Where's the milk and eggs you bought today?"

"I-it was an ac-accident. Someone r-ran in-into me-"

"I don't want to hear excuses!"

"I'm sorry!"

"That's not good enough!" he screamed before he punched Peter in the stomach. He released his grip on Peter's hair, and the teen fell to the floor. He laid breathless for a few seconds before he felt Mark's boot crash into his side. Peter gasped and tried to curl into a ball to protect himself. He received a few more kicks before Mark stomped out of the room.

Peter cried into his knees as he gasped for breath. At the man's returning footsteps, he could hold back the sobs that racked his body. He screamed when he felt the familiar bite of leather.

"Stay quiet!" Mark yelled before he swung again. Peter clamped a hand over his mouth as the blows continued.

"Mark!" May called from the doorway. The man stopped and looked up. "Tere's someone at the door."

Mark dropped the belt and left. Peter tried to breathe through the pain; he could feel blood trickling down his back. He heard shouting and pressed his hands into his ears to block it out.

He yelped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid. It's okay now. No one's going to hurt you."

Peter looked into Tony Stark's eyes. "M-Mr. Stark?" Peter whispered.

"Yeah."

"Are you here for your watch?"

"No, kiddo. I'm here for you."

"Oh."

Peter flinched when he heard more yelling. "It's okay. I called the police. Do you think you can stand?"

Peter nodded and stood with Tony's help. "Where are we going?"

"My place," the man said with a smirk.

"Why?"

"Well, it seems to me that you need a place to stay."

"What?"

"I spent the last three hours researching you. I know you're a smart kid. I saw your test scores and some of your school projects. I think you could benefit from my genius."

Peter didn't really know what to say to that, so he just nodded. Who was he to question Tony Stark? He was led to the man's car, and they drove to Avengers Tower. He was checked over in the med bay before they went to the kitchen. Mr. Stark made him dinner, and he ate until he couldn't fit another bite. Then, they moved to the living room, and Tony let him pick a movie; he couldn't remember the last time he had sat down and watched a movie.

Halfway through the film, Peter was leaned on Tony's shoulder, the man's arm gently draped over Peter. He felt safe for the first time in a long time. He knew that tomorrow would be a good day.

Avengers

Belbelanne: I'm working on a kidnapping fic right now, so I tried to make it different. I have a hard time with Tony's perspective, so I thought I'd practice. I love the thought of Tony being intimidated by May. I feel like she could be pretty scary if she wanted to be.