Growing Pains (Part 1)

"I swear, I only shoved him! I didn’t mean to… Okay, I was angry at the time. That bastard actually dared to insult Gwen!" Peter complained as he walked along with his backpack slung over his shoulders.

Stark patted him on the back and said, "It’s fine. Even if you’d beaten him up, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Someone was harassing your girlfriend, and all you did was throw one punch? That would’ve been going easy on him."

"I didn’t punch him…" Peter said helplessly.

"Alright, alright, I know. Come on, I hired an Italian chef. We’re having pizza tonight," Stark said happily.

It had all started that morning.

Peter had arrived at school in high spirits and waited for Gwen at the gates early in the morning. They chatted as they walked, and even when they reached their classroom door, neither wanted to say goodbye.

Public high schools in the United States did not care much about students dating. As long as they did not go too far, the teachers did not mind.

So Peter and Gwen held hands as they said goodbye outside the classroom. Then a member of the Football Team from the neighboring class came over. Not only did he mock Peter, but he also insulted Gwen with some truly nasty words.

Peter was furious. The football player came over and made an obscene gesture at him. In a fit of anger, Peter shoved him. Naturally, the result was that the football player nearly ended up embedded in the wall.

Peter could more or less control that immense strength now, but he had been angry at the time. He had used too much force when he pushed the guy, sending him flying and breaking one of his ribs.

As a result, the other boy’s parents raised a fuss with the school over bullying. Naturally, the school had to call in Peter’s guardians as well, but Peter had no way to explain to his uncle and aunt where he had gotten such incredible strength. With no other choice, he left Stark’s number.

The teacher promptly called Stark Tower headquarters. After Jarvis received the call, he specifically transferred it to Stark.

Stark drove a flashy sports car straight to the school. How could the other parents possibly fail to recognize the richest man in the world? They immediately declared it all a misunderstanding. Stark, meanwhile, kept encouraging Peter, saying he should have punched that bastard.

Gwen comforted him too, saying that bastard had deserved it, but Peter was still depressed. As a good student, he had never had his guardians called in before. Yet Stark’s big mouth went around bragging about it everywhere. Within days, the fact that Peter had gotten Stark called to school after causing trouble had spread throughout the entire superhero circle.

Kids that age hated being treated like children, but now Peter was being teased by everyone in turn. He was utterly miserable.

In the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria, Steve said, "You could have left my number instead. At least I look much more put together than that asshole who stays up all night and drinks himself stupid."

Coulson, sitting beside him, said, "At least you’re definitely old enough."

"I’m old enough in terms of seniority too. I’m Stark’s uncle."

"But…" Steve cut off a piece of steak and said, "You need to learn to control your emotions. I was the same way when I first underwent the enhancement. Whenever my emotions fluctuated too much, I couldn’t control my superhuman strength."

"How did you improve in the end?"

"On one hand, you need to recognize the problem yourself. On the other, you can seek help from professionals and learn how to stabilize your emotions."

"I’m not usually someone who gets angry easily," Peter said gloomily. "But whenever certain things are involved, I just can’t help myself."

Steve smiled and said, "Don’t worry about it. I was the same. Back when I was in the army, some troublemakers kept giving Peggy a hard time and insulting her. I beat every last one of them up."

"Of course, you need to control your strength when you hit people, or you’ll get yourself into trouble. But as long as you control it, it’s just an ordinary fight at most. You might get detention."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. He had not expected Captain America to have that side to him, but it made sense. The flawless saintly image from propaganda films and movies could never possibly exist in reality.

That evening, Peter went to Schiller’s psychology clinic again. He said, "Doctor, I’m afraid I’ll need to borrow your place to do some homework. My uncle and aunt insisted on renovating my entire bedroom, and the paint smell still hasn’t faded. I really can’t stand staying there."

"Come in. Go clear off that desk. Pikachu! Pikachu! Get over here! Hurry up and take away those box after box of peanut butter. You’ve been occupying my desk for more than three days…"

Peter picked up the Pikachu that hopped over and said, "Have you gotten a little fatter? Why do you feel heavier?"

"Of course he’s gotten fatter. If you ate five jars of peanut butter and two pounds of cheese a day, you’d get fat too."

Pikachu flicked his tail and said, "Mind your own business, kid. I’m just a rat, not Mr. Universe. What’s wrong with being a little fat?"

Peter opened his backpack at the desk and took out his textbooks. As Schiller cooked in the kitchen, he said, "I heard your teacher called Stark in as your guardian? Didn’t he piss the teacher off to death?"

"I couldn’t help it. How was I supposed to explain to my uncle that I could send a ninety-kilogram football player flying with one shove?"

"Oh, right." Peter turned around and said, "Doctor, can you teach me how to control my emotions? I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was just too angry and couldn’t control my strength…"

"Why do you want to do that? Why have you started thinking about controlling your emotions and holding back your strength?"

"I… because I don’t want this strength to hurt someone someday after I lose control."

"Then why would you lose control?"

"Because that guy insulted Gwen, and he said some really awful things."

"Isn’t that his problem? He should be the one learning to control his emotions, not you."

"But…"

"You’re always too good at reflecting on your own problems, pinning everything on yourself. But the truth is, you exceed ordinary people’s moral standards by far too much, and that will bring you greater pain."

"You shouldn’t always look for the cause within yourself. Have you considered that perhaps the one in the wrong isn’t you, but this world?"

Peter opened his mouth. Confused, he said, "I thought… I thought psychologists were supposed to…"

"That’s only what you thought."

Schiller carried over a plate. Smelling the fried eggs, Peter swallowed. Schiller set the plate down and said, "Psychologists aren’t military instructors, nor are we schoolteachers. We aren’t responsible for telling you who is right or wrong in a given situation. All the counseling and treatment I provide is from your perspective. That is, I put myself in your mind and discover your psychological problems from another angle…"

"Alright, I know I sometimes overthink things. I’m always worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet."

"That’s a common problem among geniuses. Stark is the same."

"What happened to Mr. Stark?"

"The day before yesterday, he had another huge fight with Pepper. He stormed out to go street racing, but Connors saw him. The next morning, Connors mocked him relentlessly, and then Steve happened to run into him when he went out…"

"Then he called me and asked whether he was the world’s number one asshole, and whether that was why the whole world was against him."

"And then?"

"Of course, I gave him about two hours of psychological treatment. After that, he made up with them."

Peter said skeptically, "What kind of treatment works that fast?"

"I cursed him out, and then he felt that everyone else had gone easy on him. Naturally, they made up."

At that moment, Peter felt sympathy for Stark.

A while later, Peter had finished both his homework and dinner. He lay on the couch staring blankly into space instead of playing games with Pikachu as usual.

Schiller wrote a paper at a nearby table. Peter rested an arm across his forehead and said, "Why are there so many strange things in this world? Why does trouble always come one thing after another? Why do people have so many worries?"

"Because your life is gradually getting better. The better life gets, the more noticeable those trivial troubles become."

"Why don’t you think about what your life was like back when you felt you didn’t have so many worries? If this kind of trouble had happened back then, would you even have cared?"

Peter thought about it. Back when Uncle Ben and Aunt May had gotten poor results from their medical examinations, they had no money, and Peter could not find a way out. If he had gotten into an argument with a classmate at school then, he might have forgotten about it almost immediately, because he had much bigger problems to deal with.

Compared to the pressure of survival, a minor verbal dispute was nothing. In the past, how could he have had so much free time to lie here and complain? He would probably still have been running errands for people to earn money.

Peter said, "Sometimes I want to grow up quickly, go to college quickly, then buy a house of my own so Uncle Ben and Aunt May can live somewhere more spacious. I want to find a respectable job and get engaged to Gwen. Isn’t that what adults do?"

"But sometimes, I hope this year will never pass. I could stay a high school student forever. I’d only need to listen in class every day, come home and do homework, then sleep until dawn."

Schiller merely listened quietly. The soft tapping of his keyboard echoed through the dim room.

"Sometimes I dream. I dream about countless stars woven into a net. I dream that I become a giant spider. Maybe being a spider would be pretty good too, right?"

"Other times, I dream that I’ve lost Uncle Ben and Aunt May, and Gwen is gone too. The entire world has only me left in it."

"They say dreams reflect the essence of a person’s heart. Do you think that’s true, Doctor?"

"I crave freedom, but I’m afraid of losing things. I want to be a hero, but I don’t even know what a hero is supposed to be like…"

Peter did not wait for an answer before falling asleep. Outside the window, the night sky was full of stars. The computer screen was the only thing still lit in the room, and Schiller had already left.

Pikachu hugged a pillow and tucked it beneath Peter’s head, then threw a blanket over him. He muttered to himself, "Humans sure have a lot going on. Out of all the people who come and go here every day, not one of them is free of worries."

Then he looked at Peter and said, "You’re already lucky, kid. Maybe all these people are lucky. Even rats are the same…"

"When does growing up ever come without worries?"