Yay! Another new chapter!
Peter felt cold. He was shivering violently, but he got the sense that his shivers were not just being caused by the cold, but also by… something else. Fear? Excitement? Whatever the feeling was, it apparently gave Peter enough confidence to jog to the edge of a rooftop and just blindly leap forward.
He wasn't as scared of jumping off a building as he thought he should be. In fact, despite the bitter cold, he was grinning. He fell into a graceful free-fall, not at all worried about his health and safety. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter realized he was dreaming, which really took the edge off of the imminent probability of death.
Worries aside, he reached out and instinctively made a weird gesture where his middle and ring fingers stretched inward to touch the palm of his hand. Just after he did so, a thin white rope shot out of his wrist and stuck to a nearby awning. Peter was abruptly yanked out of his free-fall and began to swing forward, holding onto the tiny thin line that was keeping him in the air. Just as he was about to hit the climax of his swing, he let go, falling once again.
Peter could no longer concentrate on keeping himself in the air. The cold that had been seeping into him was now much stronger than it was before. In horror, Peter watched as his whole arm froze before his eyes, crystallizing into solid ice. He had only a few seconds to be terrified before his body hit the ground beneath him…
Peter woke from his nap with a jolt. He glanced around at his surroundings groggily, relieved to be back on the couch in the Bartons' living room. Looking down, he noticed that the blanket Clint had thrown over him earlier had fallen onto the floor, leaving his arms exposed. "Okay," Peter muttered to himself, "that's the last time I sleep without a blanket."
At this time Clint entered the room, tripped on one of Cooper's legos, and then proceeded on like he hadn't just face planted in front of his teen house guest.
"Should've bought him Mega Blocks instead," Clint muttered. "Okay, good. You're awake. Dr. Irvine from S.H.I.E.L.D. is here to check up on you again. Come on to the kitchen so we can get started."
Peter followed Clint into the kitchen where Dr. Irvine was waiting. He had his usual briefcase full of basic medical supplies, as well as a pen and flashlight in his hand.
"Alright, Peter, you know the drill. Follow the pen with your eyes."
Peter sighed but obeyed the doctor's instructions, always keeping the pen the focus of his vision. Huh, I bet without the help of following the pen, I couldn't move my eyes this fluidly. Distracted by his thoughts, Peter didn't notice when Dr. Irvine started talking to him.
"...really hope you understood all of that, because it's a little complicated to explain to someone who's never had medical training. So, have you got all that, Peter?" Dr. Irvine finished, looking up at the boy expectantly.
"Oh… um, were you talking to me?" Peter lamely supplied.
Dr. Irvine refrained from face-palming. He did, however, let out a loud, irritated sigh. "Who would've thought a doctor, such as myself, was addressing his patient? I was obviously talking to the flashlight."
Before Peter could retort back to defend himself, Clint cut in. "Now Doc, he is on the young side. Cut the kid some slack! Besides, I heard everything you were saying, and I've got the gist. Peter's head was whacked really hard, causing cognitive recalibration. Hopefully, the neurons in his brain will reconnect on their own, and his memories will come back. Isn't that right?"
Dr. Irvine's jaw dropped in surprise. "Well, to put it in layman's terms… yes." He added, "I didn't know a field agent such as yourself was this knowledgeable about cranial injuries."
"Well, let's just say this head has had to be 'recalibrated' before."
"I see. That will be all, Agent Barton. Until Peter here starts to remember something, I'm not sure what else we can do for him."
Clint rolled his eyes. "Seeing as you and I both work for an intelligence agency, I think that statement's a bit inaccurate." He pulled a flash drive with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo out of his pocket and held it out to the doctor. "Since you're about to report back to a Helicarrier, why don't you give this to Agent Romanoff?"
Dr. Irvine let out an involuntary squeak of fear. "Agent Romanoff, you say? Why not someone friendlier, like.. um, Agent Thompson? And what's actually on this flash drive?"
"I shot Peter yesterday- whoa, don't look at me like that, you know I meant shot as in to take a photo. So, yeah, I want Agent Romanoff to have the kid's picture so she can personally join the manhunt for Peter's family. Be sure it gets to her." Clint ordered sternly.
Dr. Irvine sighed as he packed up his things. "Very well. I'll take it straight to her." And with that, he left.
Dr. Irvine pulled over at a gas station after about half an hour of driving through deserted wilderness. He had complained to himself throughout the drive about how inconvenient a location this was for his patient to be.
After setting up his car to get the fuel he needed to make it back to the Helicarrier, he headed inside the gas station. He was just about to grab a bag of gummy worms for the road when someone from behind yanked him away from the candy aisle and dragged him outside. The cashier was mysteriously nowhere to be found, which meant that Dr. Irvine was alone with the thug that had grabbed him.
The irritated doctor finally piped up. "Keith, enough! I was just about to call you; there's no need to get impatient."
The gas station thug Keith answered, "Yeah, well, my boss hates two things more than anything: waiting and loose ends. And ever since that spider-freak showed up at one of our ops, he's been a huge loose end. The Kingpin don't take too kindly to potential witnesses getting away alive."
Dr. Irvine interjected, "Yes, well, it's not my fault you're too dumb to check if you actually killed the brat before dumping his 'body' in the woods next door to an Avenger! You're lucky we have our little agreement, or else you would be answering to your boss about why you couldn't off a kid half your size."
Keith bristled at the man's insults, but kept his cool for the sake of the job. "So, do you have what I want or not?"
"The boy's name is Peter. Lucky for you he's got a severe case of amnesia, or else he might already have alerted the police to your boss's little operations in the city." He paused to reach into his briefcase. "Everything S.H.I.E.L.D. would have known about the case is on this flash drive. Including a recent picture."
"Good. Now that I know they're clueless, I can just shoot the boy and be done."
Dr. Irvine scoffed at the thug's incompetence. "Easier said than done, Hotshot. You can't kill Peter around Hawkeye the Avenger. You'll need to get him away from that house first. However, that's your problem. Now, do you have what I want?"
True to their usual dealings, Keith handed over the wads of cash he had used to buy information. Dr. Irvine drove away from the gas station with a smile on his face. Keith crushed the flash drive in his hand. He vowed to himself that the spider-boy Peter would be next.
Thanks for reading! Also, I slipped a kid's movie reference into this chapter by naming the thug Keith. Can anyone tell me what it's from? Leave your answers in the comments :)