Ch 2

Waking up after passing out really shouldn't become a habit. It certainly wasn't a very comfortable one. Peter could attest to that well enough, judging by his aching head and the general soreness of his slim frame. When Peter returned to the land of the living, he was frightened to realize that he was now alone in a small, white walled room. There was a bucket in one corner and a thin mat in the other, with a locked door on the opposite wall. There were bars over the door's window.

Peter stiffly crawled over to the mat, hoping for some insulation against the frigid concrete floor. The air itself was cold and musty, as though the room was deep underground. The room was dark, the only light came through the barred window on the door, the same white, clinical light from the bright room. It made Peter shrink back into his corner at the memory.

His arm, where he had been injected, was sore, aching, and sporting a dark bruise the size of a baseball around the injection site. It was swollen enough to make his arm difficult to bend, so he kept it cradled in his lap. Peter looked around his room with sad brown eyes. Where was Uncle Ben? Uncle Ben was always there to chase the nightmares away. Why wasn't he here now?!

Tears welled up and Peter found himself wishing for his parents for the umpteenth time. When they left him at his aunt's and uncle's place it wasn't supposed to be forever, just a little while. Maybe a few weeks or so...

Somebody... Anybody... Why was there no one to rescue him?

Time passed slowly, yet also at the speed of light. Peter wished it had gone slower when his cell's door swung open with another screech-clang. The same silent henchman stood in the rectangle of light, just as before. And, just as before, Peter was dragged out of his cell with all the gentleness one would apply to a bag of trash.

Peter was dragged through a series of hallways that were lit by bright, white lights, casting a sickly pallor on all the occupants. Lining the halls were doors, like the one to his cell. Past the doors, Peter could hear the heartbreaking sound of children in pain and fear. Sobbing, screaming, and whimpering echoed through the sterile, white halls as the man dragged Peter through them.

Along the way, Peter passed several more adults. Men and women littered the halls, some wearing lab coats and being the more studious type, while others were tall and beefy, obviously belonging to a similar work class as the brute with a vice grip on Peter's arm. Not a single adult looked at Peter. Not as he cried, begged, or pleaded for rescue. The only one that did made Peter shiver. It was like the woman in the lab coat was viewing a piece of meat instead of a child.

After a few more twists and turns, the henchman dragged Peter back into what looked like the same room as before. It was hard to tell though, all the rooms Peter had seen thus far had been the same pure, clean white. It could have been a different room, despite having another gurney in the middle and more steel cabinets lining the walls. It looked like it was the same doctor too, but Peter couldn't be sure. Last night, or whenever he had been in this room last, had been very frightening and Peter hadn't paid attention to the man's face, more the needle in his hands.

Peter was also afraid now.

Uncle Ben.. Aunt May... Where are you?

Peter was once more strapped onto the metal gurney, despite his protests, which neither adult seemed to hear. All too soon, the doctor was looming over him. Peter watched him with wide brown eyes, the man didn't have a needle yet, but he found himself unable to look away regardless.

"Alright," said the doctor, "Looks like this one survived the night. There is a contusion around the injection site, so there was some tissue damage, but it seems to have stopped spreading with a radius of about 2 inches, with minor swelling."

Peter whimpered as the man handled his swollen elbow, he wasn't gentle, grabbing and prodding without a care for the owner of said arm.

"Due to the burst capillaries surrounding the primary injection site, the secondary injection will be introduced via the opposite limb. A cortizone shot to the neck should also promote tissue health there. Subject is alert and aware with healthy skin coloring. Heartbeat is within normal limits, if a little high. Temperature is normal. Beginning Secondary Injection."

Peter's breath caught when he saw the doctor grab a syringe from the tray beside the gurney. Not again!

This syringe contained a clear fluid, a sharp contrast to the terrifying iridescent blue from the night before. Though, it was no less terrifying when the doctor began to clean the side of his neck a swab dipped in alcohol solution. Peter tried to flinch away, but the henchman grabbed the sides of his head, forcing him down and still on the icy metal gurney.

Peter's eyes watered as he felt the signature sharp pinching pain in the side of his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut to prepare for the nausea and dizziness that would accompany it, but it didn't come. Instead, he felt it as a cotton ball was taped over the tiny wound.

Peter opened his eyes to see the doctor's back to him. When the man turned back around, Peter started crying again in terror. In the man's hand was another syringe of the glowing blue fluid from the night before. This time, the doctor swabbed Peter's good arm clean. The shot was administered in swift, short order.

Peter yelled as the fluid once again entered the surrounding vessels near his elbow. It felt like there were fire ants swarming inside of his arm. The dizziness and nausea from the last time was back with a vengeance. Peter could feel his heart racing so fast, surely if it went any faster it would burst!

Peter thought he would pass out again, his vision went dark several times, but he managed to hold on to consciousness by the skin of his teeth. The doctor and the henchman still towered over him, keeping track of his heart rate and reactions. Peter felt like the lions at the zoo he had so loved to see. On display. He didn't like it.

The doctor started talking into his recorder again after several more minutes, during which Peter's heart rate had slowed and the burning in his arm had dulled to a bearable throb. "Subject has remain conscious after the secondary injection, heart rate and breathing remain elevated, but within safe perimeters. Reactive rise in both were noticeably lower and less stressed than the first injection's reactions. Subject is adapting and accepting more of the serum than anticipated. Very promising."

A few more minutes passed as the white coated man made several other comments and took down a few notes and measurements. Eventually, it was deemed safe enough to move Peter and the henchman once again hauled him up by his upper arm, earning a pained cry from Peter as they were now both bruised or bruising. Peter was taken back to his cell. He felt so sick and weak that all he had the energy to do was crawl over to his mat and collapse into a ball. He wasn't awake long enough to even be bothered by the chill in the room.

AN: Here's the next one! maybe I can do this, lol:) BTW, Seeing as I post these the day they are written, I don't have time to edit or get them proofread. I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes on my part, send me a review or pm, and I'll fix them when I can.