Chapter 1
3rd Person POV...Sort of
Peter trudged in through the rotating glass doors of Stark Tower with only 2 things in mind. 1. Mister Stark would kill him if he didn't get into the lab in exactly 34.5281 seconds of stepping foot inside the mighty building (He had found out that he had a "Tower Curfew" a bit too late) and 2. The extra appendages tucked close to his back were starting to ache from Flash's beatings.
It had been a month since they had started coming in and frankly, he was terrified of how long they would become. When stretched out, one measured to be 217 inches, roughly 5.5 meters. The base, which was connected to his spine, was only the width of a large chicken egg, however, they sharpened down into fine points. Razor sharp and deadly, Peter couldn't afford to tell anyone about them. Anyone in their right mind would run at the sight of them, but that wasn't what had Peter tarring at his hair. Mister Stark would disown him if he ever found out and the Avengers would hate him for being weird and chuck him out of the compound. Sometimes, Peter hated his life.
So, here he was, lightly stepping around the opening elevator doors, which would take him up to the personal labs of Stark and Banner, where his secret could be unraveled. Dreading his existence had become a regular in his day to day life. Better not stop now.
"Kid!" Tony shouted at Peter as soon as the lift doors opened. He was working on the Mark 41's left gauntlet as it kept malfunctioning and trying to shoot him in the face. Clint has nearly exploded when he found out Peter had recorded it. Around him were papers strewn across random workbenches, long forgotten projects that would probably get done while Tony was having a breakdown, and coffee mugs littered everywhere. His lab was nothing short of amazing though. Floor to ceiling windows covered most of the walls, apart from the lift area and the kitchen/lounge/bedroom space in the far corner. A little messy but hey, Peter doesn't complain. His room in the penthouse is always an absolute tip so he wasn't allowed to judge. An "Organised mess" Pepper called it, so and "Organised mess" it shall stay.
"Hey Mister Stark." Peter said wearily as he sat down on one of the comfy sofas in the corner. He sighed in bliss and pulled out his Chemistry textbook to get a start on his homework. His back had been giving him pains all week as the sections of flesh continued to grow. Today was especially bad. It felt like pins and needles were being sprinkled down his sides and spine. His back wasn't used to carrying as much weight as it was, what with his rucksack and his new-ish appendages.
"You okay kid? Ya seem like you're in pain." Tony questioned as he shot Peter a sideways concerned glance. The poor child had been coming back from school with even more bruises, gashes, cuts and concussions since he's uncle died. Yes is was a tough loss and he had Tony's complete sympathy, but he shouldn't get into so many fights. Tony had had enough when that Flash kid jabbed on that the Stark Internship wasn't real, but as always, Peter wouldn't let Tony do anything about it. He knew his way with Tony and the puppy dog eyes were a hit whenever he was about to do something that could damage someone else's confidence or self-esteem. Stupid Guardian Angel Peter.
Peter sighed and slowly turned to give Tony a lopsided grin.
"I'm fine Mister Stark. Just fine."
He got a raised eyebrow at his sentence and a heaving gesture from across the room.
"Yeah... I thought that you were okay for a second, but then you repeated it and then I knew that you definitely weren't, no matter how hard you try to hide it."
Damn. Stark was good.
"What's up Chuck?"
Peter thought about it. He could tell Tony what was bothering him so much and get it over with, or he could hide it and suffer. The pains flowed back into him at full force at that moment, and he folded in on himself, groaning. Suffering it is then.
"Really Mister Stark, it's nothing." Peter spat out as the pain intensified.
An unsatisfied grunt sounded next to him and a ACDC clad arm dropped onto his shoulders. The warmth was a welcome distraction to Peter's pain-riddled mind.
"You don't look or sound okay to me bud. Death has a better appearance than yours right now and you had to practically push out a reaponce to my question. Really, what's wrong?"
Annoyance was tiptoeing its way through Peter's cells at Tony's reply. His patience always wore thin when he was upset or in pain.
"Stark. It's nothing. Stop pestering me about it. Just a rough day at school. Nothing more. Theres nothing you can do about it so you can just stuff it and, leave. Me. Alone."
Tony froze. His hand clenched where it rested on his shoulder. Peter hated having to snap at Tony, his favourite Avenger, but he couldn't put up with much more talking. The fleshy limbs were threatening to brake through his restraint and fighting to keep them back was hard. His body was telling him that it was natural to keep them out at all times, locking them away hurt his mental health.
The stiffened arm on his shoulder withdrew after a few seconds.
"Fine. I was being comforting and trying to give my support to you, but it looks like you won't have it. A waste of time."
Tony got up and started to walk away to the lift, no doubt going to Steve for hugs. His were the best.
"No, Mister Stark... wait."
But he didn't stop walking. Not even to look back to hear what Peter had to say. Just kept going. Peter knew he had messed up and placed his head in his hands. Tony had been working on his emotions since Peter joined the team/household. He found out that Peter saw him as a father figure and wanted to persue that. He wanted to be a better father than Howard ever was. He was trying. But what he said next though, hurt the most to Peter. Worse then nearly being crushed by the 7 ton wearhouse no one knows about.
"There wasn't much point helping a brat like you anyway."
The lift opened and he slipped through.
The doors clamped shut.
Peter's resolve snapped.
The monster was out to play.
LLLIIINNNEEE BBBRRREEEAAAKKK!
Wanda's POV...Kinda
Steve and I were just enjoying a calming reading session in the main lounge of the penthouse when unexpectedly, Stark sags in without his protege, in the middle of the afternoon. It was so out of character for him. Reading though his thoughts would be rude so I blocked his brainwaves out and found a nice piece of carpet that was rather interesting to look at. Another glance up and I thought that he would slump on Steve's back and sob right then and there. He was quietly sniffling into his hand and reaching for the secret vodka in the back cupboard. We all knew that's where he kept his special vodka for when he is feeling super down. Just as Tony was about to take a swig of the burning alcohol, Clint the stupid bastard, thought it would be a great time to ask where Peter was which caused Tony to stiffen. I threw a burst of magic at the back of the stupid moron's head.
" HEY! Wanda! What the hell was that for?!"
I used my you are an idiot glare that I copied from Natasha, and he shut right up. Satisfied, a click of the fingers caught my attention. Steve's face read what he thought was going on. They definitely had an argument it said. I gave a slight nod.
Taking a slight look at Tony's feelings that were wafting through the air, I had a fairly solid idea of what went on down in the lab too.
"So are you going to tell us what happened between you two, or am I going to have to sort though your mind to decipher what went on in the lab?"
I smiled sweetly just like Natasha had taught me to, and Tony's lips turned into a tight line as he made contact with my eyes.
He opened his mouth to say something, probably that it wasn't his fault and yada, yada, yada, when Peter came in through the door. An assult of power smashed into my mental shields and I toppeled off the sofa.
"Wanda, are you alright?" Steve tentatively asked, helping me to stand.
"Yeah... Yeah I'm fine." I lied. That had really hurt and a thundering headache began to play it's wonderful melody behind my eyelids.
Suddenly Steve's grip on my forearm tightened as a low growl escaped Peter's thoat. His eyes, that had been trained on the carpeted floor, shot up to look at us. I couldn't help but let out a gasp at what I saw. Blood red eyes stared at us. Steve got into a defensive position and Clint just watched from afar. He swivelled his gaze to Tony, and Tony he knew he was skewed.
"Peter? What are you doing?" Tony asked incredulously. He hopped from foot to foot as the vodka was placed down ontop the counter. He received no reply. Just got the dangerously pretty eyes locked on his.
"Peter? Son? Are you okay?" Steve was trying to move forward to protect Tony as his armour was being repaired, but Peter gave another animalistic growl and crouched low to the ground, left foot extended outwards so the right could be his centre point of balance. The Bloody pools narrowed into thin slits.
"Steve, stay where you are. I don't think he wants you to move." I whispered. Something was definitely wrong. Seriously wrong. I couldn't breach his mind.
"No Wanda, Tony needs protecting if Peter tries anything."
After the soldier took a few steps around the sofa, and stopped. He was at a crossroad. I dipped into his mind to see what he was seeing. Peter was less than 2 meters in front of him. He could either go back around the sofa to the other side to get to Tony, or he could walk past Peter. Granted, he would be much closer to peter, but he would be behind him and out of his eyesight, so it seemed like it was the best idea he had. I quickly disentangled myself from his thoughts to try and stop him, but it was too late. Steve didn't notice Peter tensing. When Steve stepped forward to see if Peter would do anything, he sat deathly still. Waiting for a chance. A sigh of relief pasted Steve's lips and 3 more unreserved steps were taken. Big mistake.
The next few seconds flew past in a blur of white. Peter shot out his stretched out left leg, smashing it into Steve's abdomen. A groan escaped him, however he wasn't given time to ponder on it as he was webbed to the floor. Where the webs came from, I had no clue. Being too late to register what was happening, I too found my body encased in the sticky substance, this time to a wall. Clint had gone down the same time as Cap, having fainted on the floor. Seriously? The great Hawkeye, out cold on the floor, all because of a teenager. Haha. Dizzy from the sudden change in position, I gazed over at Tony. I would've smiled at the sight of the great Tony Stark shaking in his boots if I wasn't taped to a goddamn wall! Stupid Wanda Luck.
Silently, the Webster snuck forward and sniffed the air. Growling, he whipped around and webbed the dark oak does shut. No one was getting in. Or out.
It's feeding time.
LLLIIINNNEEE BBBRRREEEAAAKKK!
3rd Person POV
Tony cowered away from Peter as another step was taken. He knew that he'd messed up royally. The kid was probably just cranky from school like he said he was. But nooooo, Tony had to go and get on his nerves which was probably what set him off.
"Pete? Buddy? You can stop with the scary demeanour now. I'm sorry for dismissing you down in the lab. I haven't slept in at least 3 days. Normally I wouldn't be feeling this wound up. I'm... I'm... wow this is hard. I'm... I'm sorry Peter."
Wanda gave Tony the best understanding look she could muster while being stuck to a wall. They all knew how hard it was on stark to express his feelings. She understood. Peter, on the other hand, wasn't fazed at all by the partly moving few sentences his mentor said to him. Peter could only hear the breaths of his prey rebounding off the creamy walls, and the drumming of his damaged, shrapnel covered heart. A twinge of guilt trembled through his body at the realisation of calling his mentor/father figure "prey", but it was quickly smothered by anger. Prey wasn't meant to be feared by the predator. The predator was the dominant species. NOT PREY! Hunger erupted out of his stomach, demanding food to enter. At the mere mention of food, the carefully hidden lengths of flesh, which Peter had done so hard to keep unnoticed, peeled away from his restraint, ripping through his favourite science-y shirt. Collective gasps were heard throughout the blocked-off area as the witnesses drank in the sight.
Spider legs.
Great long, thin spider legs.
They produced out from his shoulder blades and stood on the ground. Peter, being the lanky 5'11 greenbean he was, was easily lifted off the carpeted/tiled floor of the floor. The appendages supported his weight entirely, suspending him high above the cocooned bodies of his family. It was completely freaky and disturbing, but that's not what had Tony's attention the most. It was the patterning of them which boggled his mind. (And seriously, he has seen a lot of weird shit in his past days of sleeping around) They were coloured magnificently. Black at the base and fading into a red at the tips, with silver strips cascading down all 8 lengths. Opening his mouth to hiss at his prey showed off the long fangs that had pierced through his canines, dripping in a blueish liquid. It was odd that with everything that had just been revealed to them, it was all so out of character for the little Peter Parker. The new legs wouldv'e been fit for a circus clown, not a skinny highschooler. Scared brown eyes stared into the firey irises from the kitchen counter.
Tony nearly had a full blown panic attack when the legs, that had lifted the tall teenager off the ground without any struggle, started to walk towards him. Thinking that Peter was going to end him, he sank down onto his knees and waited for the sound of elongated teeth to pierce into the soft fleshyness of his exposed neck.
But it never came.
The monster's time was up.
Maybe next time.
Probably.
The world swirled out of focus for Peter. Darkness was his friend after all.
LLLIIINNNEEE BBBRRREEEAAAKKK!
Author's Note:
Hello wolves. I'm new to this "conveyin' my feelings into a weird story that might or might not have a plot but I'm not too sure" thingy, so... ya'll have to give me a break. Will probably be a part 2 comin' up, but don't get ya wee hopes up.
See ya next time my little pack.
