Chapter Text
Peter Parker had always known that he was a boy.
He absolutely despised the name Piper and he despised every time his mother would force him into a dress, even if it was for just a few hours. It made him feel like a clown. He hated every time someone called him a girl and every time his father would call him his little princess. After one too many long arguments with a small, yet feisty Piper, his parents finally decided to let him do as he pleased. They bought him action figures, toy trucks, whatever clothes he wanted to wear since he wouldn’t wear the pink ones he owned. Things were right in Peter’s world for the first time.
The first day of preschool came around, he kissed his parents goodbye and ran into the classroom. Everyone sat at small desks, mingling with each other, playing games, coloring, and as Peter scanned the room for a place to sit, he only found one open seat in the back. He inched his way to the open chair and noticed that the boy in the opposite seat was playing with what appeared to be two Lego figures, fighting back and forth with them.
“Is that Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader?” Peter exclaimed seeing his two favorite characters in the hands of the larger boy. The kid looked up with a smile on his face. “Yeah! They’re dueling right now! Wanna play?” Peter nodded excitedly and sat down.
“I’m Ned.” he said as he handed Peter a Lego figure. “I’m Piper.” God he hated that name. He pushed down any negative feelings down and tried to focus on playing with Ned. Soon the teacher called for the class to stand up and separate into two sides of the room for a game.
Boys on one side. Girls on the other.
Peter froze in his seat. His gut dropped. Everyone stood and went to their respective spots but Peter couldn’t move and he stayed glued to his chair. He didn’t think something like this would happen. He looked over at the girls side and couldn’t bring himself to go stand with them, he knew he wasn’t one of them. Ned looked at him in sympathy even if he had no clue what Peter was feeling.
“Piper? Why aren’t you standing?” Ms. Woods asked in a gentle voice. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing would come out, his eyes started to well with tears. Peter was a boy but no one saw him as one and they would all laugh and point and call him name and− he couldn’t take it. He bolted to the bathroom in the back of the classroom and locked the door.
That night Richard and Mary Parker sat their child down in the living room and properly discussed what had happened at school that day. Peter wouldn’t tell them what was wrong. He was stubborn and wouldn’t say anything other than that he refused to go back. After a battle well fought, Richard compromised with him, telling him that he wouldn’t have to go tomorrow and he could just have a day spent with his parents before they left for their business trip that night and his aunt and uncle would come to take care of him.
Around eight the next night, Peter watched as May dropped the house phone with a sob. Ben held her as she sobbed next to the phone.
□■□■
Peter was seven when he told May he was a boy.
Ten minutes he stood outside of May’s room trying to compose himself. Ben was at work still so it wouldn’t be as hard to tell one of them instead of both, right? He ran through every possible outcome. Peter thought he was alone in this, that he was the only one who has ever been born in the wrong body. It just isn’t normal, he tells himself, I’m just a freak. He tries to shake away all the gross feelings and thinks of what he’s going to say.
The door feels like lead as he pushes it open.
“Aunt May, can I talk to you?” Peter said, eyes aimed at the floor. “Of course kiddo, what’s up?” she looked at him with concern in her eyes.
She grabbed his hand gently. “Piper, what’s wrong?” Tears were welling in his eyes. “I- I don’t want to be called Piper anymore. I want,” he took a deep breath, trying to prevent the tears from spilling over. “I want you to call me Peter.”
May looked at him with a small smile on her face. “Peter is a lovely name.”
Later that evening, Peter sat on a stool in the kitchen as Ben circled around him with precision in every cut he made to his hair. The moment he looked in the mirror he knew everything was right in the world again.
□■□■
Peter’s world came to a crashing halt. His heart ached with guilt as he held tight to his uncle’s lifeless body on the empty sidewalk. His mask disregarded on the cement beside him, his gloves soaked in blood as he sobbed against his uncle’s tarnished shirt.
He shouldn’t have let that thief, that murderer, run free. The words that had come out of his mouth hours ago haunted him: “It’s not my responsibility to catch criminals.” God what a fucking idiot. It’s all my fault, he thought, May is a widow because my head was too far up my ass to think of any consequences.
The sirens were getting closer. Hot tears streaked down his face as he left the scene. The paramedics covered his body with a sheet and police stalked about the scene. Peter tried not to sob too loudly from his perch a couple stories up.
Peter didn’t leave his room for three days. May did not either. He heard the wails coming from May’s room in the middle of the night on the fourth day and he knew he had to be strong for her. Opening the door slowly, he crept into her room and laid down next to her and held her in his arms until she fell asleep.
As much as it pains him to think about, he can’t help but notice how her smile has never been the same. Every so often he has to fight the demons in his head that tell him that it is his fault. He knows he can’t let his self hatred destroy him, he’s all that May has left. He keeps fighting and tries his best to stay safe for her.
His world is never the same again.