Chapter Text
1. you're scared of a world where you're needed
Frank doesn’t like that Peter must think he’s stupid, or worse, an ignorant prick. ‘Cause that’s the only explanation as to why Peter assumes he’s getting away with isolating himself again.
Peter
sorry frank!! busy today, so i’m gonna have to skip out on dinner </3
i’ll try to swing by in the future :P
He had been staring at the text message for a little while, trying to read in between the lines. Peter’s been ditching their poorly planned hangouts for a couple weeks now, which wouldn’t have made Frank think twice if it weren’t for the fact that he himself has been initiating a few of their plans.
At first he wondered if maybe the guy was trying to gradually drift apart from their fragile friendship—but was too soft to outright say it—and it was a real, weighted thought that made him feel empty with sudden resignation.
Then he started retracing their interactions together. Uselessly contemplating whether there was a certain, defining point where Peter finally realised that Frank wasn’t worth the trouble.
Frank’s eyes had gradually glazed over to the newspaper laying down next to his pillow, wanting to begin pinpointing the dates of their interactions before it drives him crazy. It’s the latest issue, detailing Spider-Man’s heroic actions in not one hostage situation, but three in the same day. That's when he suddenly realised with clarity that this persistent push might not be his fault this time.
Me
Keeping yourself busy with work?
Peter’s typing bubble appears and disappears in a loop for an awkward minute.
Peter
yup
haha
nothing to worry about
The guy must think Frank is an absolute dumbass.
Me
I’m not a dumbass.
Peter
???
i never said you were
did i accidentally type that somewhere
hello???
He can’t be fucked anymore to continue typing on his stupidly tiny burner phone, so he decides to promptly call Peter.
“Whoa- What- Shit!”
“...You done?”
“Frank? Why are you- uh, calling me?” His voice keeps pitching higher with each word as if he’s somehow lying even by asking questions. Jesus, Frank will never understand how the kid keeps his identity under wraps.
The word kid reverberates through his numb skull as he thinks it. He swallows a lump in his throat. Tries to bury the hollow sound of a gunshot along with it.
“There’s naive and stupid, kid. And I’m neither of that shit.”
“...M’not a kid.”
“You think I can’t tell what you’re doing? That- that bullshit you’re pulling?”
“Uh, n-no?”
“Look, being alone was never a choice for me. It just happened, whether or not I wanted it to.” Frank takes a deep breath before he continues, aware it might take a while to get through to the kid’s thick skull.
“But you, you’ve got people who want you in their lives. You might not have had people like that a few years ago, or even a couple months ago, but you do now. You don’t get to choose to be alone anymore.”
Peter scoffs. “Oh, but you get to?”
“...I’m here talkin’ to you, aren’t I?”
There’s a moment where the conversation stills, letting that admission linger before it fades. It feels too intimate of a confession, for someone like Frank to imply that they’re friends not because of anything other than the desire to be. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted something pure like that.
Peter takes an audible deep breath, and Frank can tell that something wet and defeated hitches his sigh.
“I don’t know how to explain it, y’know? It’s like- I get why people need Spider-Man. And I’ve always been there for them as a hero…” Something catches in his throat, a forced pause interrupts him.
“...But I don’t know how to be there for people as someone else. As Peter Parker.”
“Been avoiding all your friends, haven’t ya?”
“...Mhm.”
“You think what, just ‘cause the mask gives you some cover, that it isn’t still you underneath it?”
“I don’t know what I think. I just don’t wanna disappoint people.”
“D’aah, bullshit, you’re scared of disappointing people even with the mask on,” He drags out his disbelief, “Why’s it different this time?”
“...’M scared that people will start needing me more as Peter Parker. I only know how to- how to be needed when I’m wearing the suit.”
Frank stays silent.
“I dunno how to talk to new people, or- or how to fake my own life. I barely lived as myself the past four years—what am I meant to say to people my age who've lived through so much more than I could ever dream of?” He keeps going, the truth bubbling up from his throat.
“Ned wanted to introduce me to some of his friends… But I freaked out and cancelled at the last minute, lied and told him I had a Spider-Man related emergency. And he– he believed me so easily. He got excited and said it‘s fine, that we’ll reschedule any day that Spider-Man’s not busy.”
Frank listens patiently, aching with the need for Peter to understand that it’s okay to get things wrong the first time. That it’s okay that he doesn’t want to do something, isn’t ready to yet. He shouldn’t need to lie to save face if his friends are as good as he says they are.
What comes out of his mouth, however, is a different story.
“...You’re such a people pleaser.”
Peter sputters, indignant. “As if you wouldn’t be if you were in my shoes.”
“Nah, I’d know how to say no when I wanted to.”
“You’re acting like it’s so easy. I just got him back as a friend.”
“Kid, the first step of being there for people is by being honest. This friend of yours would probably understand if you just told him what you’re telling me.”
“...”
“You’re gonna stop being an asshole, tell him the truth, and stop isolating yourself, ‘kay?”
“...Stop bossing me around.”
“Say yes, Peter.”
“Fine, but I want you to do something too,” His tone is only half playful. “Stop calling me kid. And thinking that I am one.”
Frank’s hands start to feel clammy. “Maybe once you stop acting like one.”
“I’m serious, Frank. I want us to be on an equal standing. I don’t want our dynamic to be something like–” His sentence cuts short, as if regretting his train of thought, “I just… I don't want you to be another mentor figure.”
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks. And thanks for… for knowing I was uh- spiraling.” A self-deprecating chuckle escapes his mouth in one rush.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Bye.” Frank hangs up just as abruptly as he began the call.
He doesn’t let the sappiness of the conversation’s aftermath stall itself into something too sweet and too deserving of him. His phone buzzes once anyways.
Peter
can i come over tomorrow with takeaway
Me
👍
Frank huffs out a pointed chuckle, warmed by the thought that Peter possibly chose him to spend time with first. He sure as hell deserves at least that, after dishing out tacky advice to a guy who has more friends than him.
His eyes open hurriedly, not even realising they were closed in the first place. What the fuck?
When did he start thinking he deserved shit?
Groaning, he rubs both palms harshly against his eyelids, struck with embarrassment. So selfishly, he had been content with labelling them as friends. It wasn’t such a stretch, both of them banter and protect each other. But that’s the thing. It’s Frank’s job now to look after the kid.
‘Stop calling me kid. And thinking that I am one.’
He agreed to it for Peter’s sake, but he should know better. He knows that Peter would be livid to discover that Frank lied to him during their call about honesty, would probably explode and call him a hypocrite…
…But he thinks of gunpowder. The smell of iron in his trembling hands, and the weight of a small body wrapped in his scarred arms.
He thinks of how it haunts him, every night he tries to sleep. The fact that he almost got someone so good killed again. It's safer to think of Peter as someone to look out for than a friend.
The Punisher doesn't deserve Peter Parker as an equal.
He turns in his bed and faces the empty wall, deciding that what Peter doesn't know won't hurt him.
It’s fine, Frank will just have to make sure he doesn't find out.