Decidedly no

Peter sat alone in his cell. It had been a week, ten days, more. He had lost track in his isolation moping as he lamented his life, his circumstances, his failures. No one had come to release him, no one had contacted him, or answered his attempts to contact the outside world. He was terrified something had happened to them. MJ was probably fine, Jameson didn't give a fuck about him but the lack of communication with his Aunt had him tingling with frustration. She was more than capable as a still vibrant woman, but he also knew she had some suitors which he didn't particularly care for snooping around. At least she seemed to have an on again off again relationship with Mr. Stark and his driver. Peter was still a bit confused about how that all worked out.

For the first time in his life he felt his face and barely recognized it. He was unshaven for days and had grown a mild mustache and beard. His youthful looks and demeanor were gone with the poor sleep, poor food and poor privacy. He barely slept these days, as when he did was when the vultures attacked. The warden, guards, or inmates seemed to monitor when he was falling asleep and he had woken more than once to a tingling spidey-sense, heard the jangling of keys before the door slid open and fists, or feet came at him. They still fed him, but each meal was the same. A glass of water, a slice of moldy bread, some white soup mixed with less than a handful of rice and grilled chicken fat. It was the most disgusting meal he had ever had, the soup was salty and had thick white globs of something in it, almost congealed salt.

After the fifth meal he had gotten used to it, but even his supernatural body and mind couldn't keep him safe. He had slipped more than once the last two days and been subjected to fierce beatings, which left him bruised on his chest and back but no more. He was slipping day by day and he felt the meals were coming at different times than the other inmates. Still he sat and ate his latest meal until he heard a guard walk up to his bars his baton clanking against the door to get Peter's attention.

"Hey Parker, how's the cum drop soup?" Peter heard the sneer, "This one is special, a gift from you 'benefactor'."

Peter felt his stomach lurch before he rushed to the toilet in the corner and spewed foul bile from his mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Your benefactor said, and I quote, 'This was drawn from the source by your beautiful aunt May. You chose, you eat it, or she does.'" The cackle which followed left Peter green in the face as he kneeled, "The man also said, if you chose to partake, you can't vomit it up. Each time you do it will extend your Aunt's stay. Also, as a reward, no more beatings. Your Aunt will still draw the material, but she will eat good food. So what's your choice Peter."

Peter knelt silently as his mind reeled, his breathing haggard as his mind began to plummet into self recrimination and doubt.

"Tick tock spidey."

They knew, that was not good. "I'll eat it."

"Ohh I forgot, the man also said he couldn't be expected to always provide it, so if he doesn't as he travels you will have to get your own material from a source." More laughter came from the man's mouth, "And lucky me, I love pretty boys like you."

Peter felt lower than ever as he prayed for his friend and lawyer Matt to get him in front of a judge soon. He had no problem with gay people, but he wasn't gay, was he? He had started to suck Craig a bit, but that was only because he was confused and scared.

He didn't hate it though, did he. He was so focused on the gruesome laughter from his keeper that he completely neglected to think of his aunt's predicament.