Chapter 7: The Gauntlet Part 1
Back with another chapter. This one is a bit different but it was something my friend was talking to me about and I felt it was a cool idea.
Please enjoy!
A few days later, Peter went to training at the abandoned city blocks again. Since Peter had skipped training that day, Steve had made the last few training's hell. Which killed Peter in more ways the one since he would still be recovering from going on patrol the night before.
However, today Steve had a bit more planned. What Natasha had said about not making training 'fun' echoed in his mind. That and the fact that Peter had a good time while also training when he was with Gwen gave him an idea.
"Get suited up, hot shot." Steve said throwing him a new mask, specially made by Tony Stark himself.
"For what and what's with the new suit?"
"I felt like you needed extra protection other than spandex and Tony agreed. So he made you a brand new suit that much more durable, stable, waterproof, and provides more protection than your original. Today we test it out!" He answered.
"Cool!" Peter exclaimed looking at the mask. "Thanks!"
"Don't thank me yet. It's time for the gauntlet challenge." Steve said in his best game show voice.
"Gauntlet challenge?" Peter asked, looking up.
"For training today, you're going to have to go through a series of challenges in order to prove your skills." Steve smirked.
"Like a relay race?" Peter asked.
"Kind of." Steve shrugged. "But you don't have any partners. You're, completely, on your own."
"That doesn't sound fair." Peter whined.
"I never said it was." Steve smirked.
Peter took a long, comforting breath. "Alright then. What do I got to do?"
"Here's the deal," Steve began, "there will be seven total challenges. You must pass four of them to go home tonight. If you pass the first four, then you're out of here. Home-free. But if you don't you'll keep going until all seven have been attempted." He pulled out a laminated, green and black strip of paper that said 'Pass' on it. "After each challenge you will receive this. If you do then that means you passed, if you don't then consider it a fail."
"This is like English all over again." Peter mumbled, shaking his head.
"You'll get two hours to pass four challenges or attempt all seven." Steve explained.
"I have only a two hours for this whole thing!" Peter shouted in shock. "What happens if I don't make the time?"
"If you still fail after all seven challenges or you don't make the time limit, we'll do this again tomorrow with a whole different set of challenges. This will continue every day until you get it right."
"What is this? Military camp?"
"In high combat situations sometimes you have to do the impossible under strict time constraints. I've been training you for a month now. It's time to test your progress."
"How the heck am I supposed to complete seven challenges in two hours?"
"You only have to complete four. My advice," Steve smiled, slyly. Usually someone else like Tony or Clint would grin like that, it was a lot scarier when Steve did it. "Remember your training. Don't fail."
"Easier said than done." Peter replied.
"Scared, hot shot?" Steve asked, bending down to Peter's height, smirking.
Peter clenched his jaw, standing up to his full height. "You wish." Peter shot back, just as determined. "What are the challenges?"
"Some of them are physical, some are mental. It depends on who set up the challenge."
"What does that mean?"
"I've asked for some help with this training exercise. In fact, all the Avengers are involved, each person has one challenge that they created themselves. Not even I know what it is. Then there are two that we came up with together. Those are probably the most difficult."
"So it's like a challenge scavenger hunt."
"Guess you can think of it that way."
"So what's the first challenge?"
"How about you go get changed and meet me four blocks west from here."
Steve ran off in the other direction, leaving Peter to stare at the suit in his hands. He looked back up to see that Steve had disappeared. With one last breath he went into the nearest building to get changed and start 'The Gauntlet.'
Peter met Steve exactly where he said. He was dressed in his new Spiderman suit, without the mask, though he held it in his hand. As he walked to Steve it reminded Peter how they met. His mask being torn off and then him running through the city streets to get away only to be found and kidnapped at school.
That was a great day. Peter thought to himself, sarcastically.
When he finally reached Steve, he stood in front of him. Excitement and nervousness bubbled in his veins as he awaited his first challenge. He noticed that a long, rectangular platform was suspended 20 feet above a large water tank. Along with that, there were two cranes on each side of the platform with wrecking balls attached to their chains.
The fact that wrecking balls were being used at all added slight fear to Peter's current emotional status.
"The first challenge, is my challenge." Steve started as he stood up, putting his arms behind his back. "I call it hit and run."
Peter suppressed a laugh. "How long did it take you to come up with that name?" Peter joked.
"As long as it took you to come up with your superhero name."
Backfired. Peter thought.
"Here's how it works." Steve pointed to the platform. "You will be on that platform. It's 100 feet from one side to the other. There are two buttons, one on each side. You will have to run from one side of the platform to the other, pressing the buttons each time. Every time you press a button, the score board over here," he pointed to a large screen that connected to a building on the other side, "will give you one point. To pass this challenge you will need to get at least ten points to pass. The scoreboard will also show your time."
"So what happens if I get more than ten?" Peter asked.
"Hopefully you'll be smart enough to stop since you have other challenges." Steve smirked. Then he continued. "Those cranes will be randomly throwing their differently sized wrecking balls at you. You can duck, dodge, jump, or do whatever you need to do but you must remain on your feet at all times. No clinging to the wrecking balls." Steve shaking his finger to Peter. "In fact, you're not allowed to touch the wrecking ball in anyway, unless it smashes you into the water below." Steve held out his hand. "You will also give me those web shooters of yours."
Peter met his eyes. "I'm not allowed to use them?" Peter asked, hesitant to give up his most power weapon.
"Nope." Steve explained. "This challenge is about speed, reflexes and endurance. All of which you 'naturally' have. Not to mention you rely on these webs too much. Don't worry though, you'll get them back once the challenge it over."
Peter glanced at his wrists. He'd never really gone without his web shooters before, even during training he always equipped them. But if he had to… "Alright." Peter breathed. He took off his shooters, handing them to Steve.
Steve wrapped his arm around his shoulders, leaning in close. "Note that Tony created those cranes. They are completely random. That means that they will not swing in a pattern. If you get hit off into the water or don't get ten points in ten minutes, you fail." Steve looked Peter directly in the eyes.
"Well there goes that plan." Peter's shoulder's shrunk. He figured that at he could predict the movement of those wrecking balls.
Steve nodded to the top of the platform. "Better get yourself situated."
"R-right." Peter stumbled, walking up to the closest side of the bridge.
"Any last minute advice?" Peter asked Steve, his voice cracking slightly at his nerves. He waited for a small section of the bridge to cut off of the whole and slowly lower itself until Peter could step on it.
"You can go as fast or as slow as you want. Remember you only have two hours to complete four challenges. Pace yourself, don't waste all your energy on one challenge. But most of all, find your groove and stick with it." Steve replied. He then leaned in close, placing hands on both of Peter's shoulders, and in all seriousness he said, "don't tear yourself up, hot shot."
Peter nodded, a small, chaste nod. The platform lowered itself to the ground. Peter stepped on it, slightly losing his balance as it raised itself back up and attached to the rest of the bridge.
Peter looked down the metal bridge, it might have been 1000 feet but it looked like it went on for miles. With a large gulp, Peter put his mask on and fitted it to his face. His heart was already beating out of his chest.
He took a moment to get use to the new lenses which changed their shape based on the level of concentration Peter admitted.
When he felt ready, he reached for the first button to start the challenge. "I forgot to tell you!" Steve shouted up to him. He froze his fingers barely grazing the button, but not fully pushing it down. "When you press the button your two hours will start! Use your time wisely! And Good Luck!"
Peter gave him a thumbs up.
And with one last deep breath…
He pressed the button.
He booked it down the platform at full speed. After the first ten feet, Peter sensed a wrecking ball coming at him. It didn't have time to reach him thought before he blasted past it's opening.
In his head, Peter was cheering for himself for at least dodging the first wrecking ball. That was at least a start.
The second one wasn't as easy; it came off its hinge long before Peter reached it. Peter actually had to decrease his speed to a near stop in order to dodge it, losing some time. Before he had made it even half way down the platform he had wasted 15 seconds.
The easiest way to think of this challenge was to aim for a minute per lap. That way he would get done be going for ten minutes' total. It also allowed for some extra time in case he got stuck by a wrecking ball or had to take a jogging break.
But eventually, after dodging the other wrecking balls he pressed the button on the other side.
He took a quick glance at the clock: 45 seconds.
Alright! I can work with that! Peter thought.
He ran back to the other side. The wrecking balls swung again, but after completing his first lap his adrenaline doubled, making Peter lose all sense of time and energy for the moment. Instead he focused on the thrill and the button on the other side.
Steve was impressed with how fast he managed his first lap. Originally, he figured Peter would over think this challenge trying to calculate the pattern of wrecking balls, divide the time by ten in order to know exactly what time he should be at.
But Steve could tell Peter wasn't as focused as he should be. He wasn't pacing himself, at all. He's running at full speed. Even after his second completed lap, Steve could tell that Peter was slowly getting tired and slowing down. Not enough to hinder his time that much, but it may be a problem with the future.
Luckily, Steve created this challenge so that Peter would definitely pass. He knew he could. Not to mention since this was his first challenge he didn't want to crush his confidence right away, especially when he didn't know what the other Avengers had in store for him.
Huffing and puffing at this point, Peter ran across the bridge once again, for the third time. As the minutes ticked by Peter felt less confident and the adrenaline was running out but his heart continued to pump blood into his limbs in order for him to continue. At the very least he couldn't fail the first challenge.
That's loser status! He thought. It's like a participation ribbon.
As he was thinking, he was almost hit by a wrecking ball, in fact it skimmed his foot, almost knocking him sideways. Luckily he gained his balance back within seconds and was flying back down the track. The biggest problem to his time was the fact that he had to dodge the wrecking balls.
Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning.
"Dodge the wrecking balls all at once." He gasped out. Once clear of the next wrecking ball he ran left and flipped off the side of the platform, only to catch it with one hand as he dangled one the side.
Steve watched in total puzzlement as he saw Peter hang off the side of the platform. But as quick as Peter flipped off he tucked his feet in until he could get a solid footing in the back of the platform. Then he walked his hands down until he was completely upside down on the backside of the metal.
The wrecking balls only crossed over the top of the platform, but the underside was completely unprotected.
"Whoever said I rely on my webs too much was wrong." Peter cheered to himself, proud of the loophole he found. He then crawled his way back and forth, flipping up to press the button and then overturning his body back down so that he could crawl on the underneath. He wasn't as fast as he ran while he crawled, but after a while he got into almost a doggy run so that he could pick up pace.
Steve just smiled the whole time, watching Spidey with both fascination and pride. Peter's smart. I'll give him that.
He ended up hitting the last button around the nine-minute mark. Steve cheered for him down below as Peter let himself fall into the water tank. The cool, refreshing water washed off the perspiration from the running and aided his already aching muscles.
Steve helped him out, reaching a hand into the tank. "Good job, hot shot. Way to find the loophole." Steve grinned.
"Did you know that was a loophole?" Peter panted, out of breath.
"Of course I did. However, I didn't realize you'd basically suicide off the platform just to flip upside-down."
Peter grabbed his hand. Steve pulled him up and over, dropping him to the asphalt of the street below. Peter landed in a crouch and then relaxed into a sitting position, his back up against the tank.
"You'd better hurry." Steve hopped down next to him. "You have three more challenges to complete."
He handed Peter the pass card. "What time is it?" Peter gasped out looking around frantically.
The both glanced at the clock, above the scoreboard. 11:35… :36… :37…
Peter jumped to his feet, his aching muscles screaming, but he ignored the pain for now. "Where's the next challenge?"
"Clint is waiting for you on the roof of that building." Steve pointed to the tallest building of the abandoned city blocks.
"Great." Peter groaned.
"Catch!" Steve called out. Peter did, out of reflex, catch his web shooters. He gathered them up and equipped them to his wrists, feeling the comfort that came with them being there again. His wrists were cold without them.
Steve pushed him forward, roughly to get him going. Peter took a few running steps before flinging himself into the air toward the next challenge.
Clint was relaxing on the roof when Peter reached him. His tipped his sunglasses up and smirked at the teen as he landed. "Wondering when you would get here." He said.
"So what's you're challenge?"
"Why are you being so hasty?" Clint placed his sunglasses back on and relaxed his head on the ground. "Relax a little."
"I don't have time for that and you know it."
"Fine." Clint grunted as he stood up. "You're cutting into my tanning time, kid."
"Boo-hoo." Peter smiled behind the mask.
"I'm guessing you passed Steve's test?"
"Why would you say that?"
"Because you're getting cocky and you always get cocky when you do well."
"I'm not cocky; I'm short on time. There's a difference." Peter complained, exasperated. "Now, come on."
"Alright. It's pretty simple. In the 'biz' we call it embassy. But it's like capture the flag."
"Where is it?"
"It's two miles south. You'll see a purple flag, several of them actually."
"You're only supposed to have one flag in capture the flag." Peter said.
"I said it was like capture the flag. But this game is a game of embassy."
"So how do you play embassy?"
"If you'd stop asking questions, I'll tell you." Clint repeated, more frustrated. Peter felt a whack at the back of his head when Clint smacked him, causing a small yelp to escape his lips. Then Clint continued to explain, "Underneath each flag, there are puzzle pieces. You'll have to put the puzzle together in order to get a clue which will then lead you to a box with a key. That key unlocks this flagpole." He leans against the pull in emphasis and points out the locked chain. "In order to win, you have to raise the flag on this pole to the top."
"Sounds easy enough, I—," Peter began.
"Hold up." Clint interrupted. "There are just a few itsy-bitsy things to look out for. Number one," he held up one finger, "not all pieces under the flags are usable pieces. Number two," he added another finger, "You must put the entire puzzle together before going after the key. Number three, you only have two minutes in each safe zone each time you enter."
"What are the safe zones?"
"The flag poles and the roof top connected to them are safe zones. That means that you can't be hit."
"Hit? What the he—"
"Number four," Clint interrupted again. "You will have to avoid my arrows the whole time, except in safe zones obviously."
"You're going to be shooting arrows at me!" Peter shouted.
"Flaming arrows to be precise." Clint smiled.
"Why?" Peter squealed.
"This test is about intuition, detective work, reflexes, concentration and ability to finish a mission at all costs. Missions are not fun and games. Often times you'll have people with a different skill sets coming after you. It's good to be aware." Clint then smiled slyly. "Not to mention, I thought it would be fun."
Peter groaned.
"By the way, if you get hit by my arrow, even once, you fail this test."
"And lose my life." Peter mumbled under his breath.
"You can always quit now." Clint smirked, his crooked smile, that helped fuel Peter into the mindset to kill this challenge.
"I'll whip that smirk right off your face." Peter replied.
"There's that cockiness again." Clint grinned, pointing a finger to Peter. "I'll be generous. I'll give you a ten second head st—."
Peter didn't give him a chance to finish before he flung himself off the side of the building in an absolute free fall.
He let his webs go trying to keep low to the ground with all the buildings. Since he was no longer in the safe zone, Clint could go after him. Arrows don't exactly corner well so as long as he stays within the buildings he'd be hard to hit.
At least that's what he hoped.
Clint was a badass with his bow. Though it seemed old-fashioned to Peter, he suspected that Clint had an arsenal of weapons to you on him. He wouldn't even put throwing knives against him. Though those may be much too slow.
That wasn't going to stop him from being cautious. Clint was out for blood.
Not sure why.
But he was.
By the time Peter reached the flags, Clint had already pin-pointed him. The arrows, as promised, were on fire but they didn't have a point, instead they had a hard, cylinder that still was aerodynamic and could fly through the air with minimal resistance. But Thank Goodness, that they wouldn't hurt!
Still, he had to act like they were real. Peter could still fail if he were to get hit, that's probably why Clint wanted flaming arrows. If he did get hit, he'd have a mark or something to give away that he failed.
Frantically, Peter searched through the puzzle pieces. He luckily got a few to fit, but whether it was the puzzle he was looking for or not, he wasn't sure.
From the look of it there were three puzzles total. Fortunately, they were bigger puzzle pieces, signaling that it was a smaller puzzle, probably 25 pieces, tops.
His two minutes were running out fast. After he got about four pieces together he jumped off the roof, out of the safe zone.
From that moment he was targeted to the point where he was pretty far away from the puzzle pieces. Luckily he turned around that backside of the puzzle building and broke in through the window. Clint never said he couldn't.
This way, Clint would have an even harder time catching him in between the walls. Though he wouldn't put it pass Clint if he had some kind of exploding arrows too.
He reached the roof quite easily. He got more puzzle pieces together but they didn't fit the original four. But there were wording on these ones, so that alone seemed like a good sign that these were the real ones.
His two minutes went by extremely fast, but he luckily seemed to have about half the puzzle done before he had to jump again.
He repeated the process. Looks like hiding in the building was the best way to avoid Clint's arrows, that was until Clint also entered the building. Then it became more difficult as Peter had to swing and dodge arrows in a tightly confined space.
He was skimmed several times by arrows, knifes, and got smashed by the punches and kicks. But Clint didn't say anything so the game was still on. Peter was lucky that his suit protected his skin, otherwise he might have already caught fire. That and his combat training started to pay off as he could dodge, duck, and even fight back.
Unfortunately, when it came to hand to hand combat. Peter wasn't an expert. His style was more dodging and avoid while webbing them up from a distance. He was a long-range fighter, but that worked for him.
"You're going to have to fight back eventually, kid." Clint huffed, as he threw yet another right hook.
"Not really," Peter sucked in a desperate breath, "part of the mission."
"Already worn out?" Clint smiled.
"You try running your heart out trying to avoid wrecking balls and then having to do this." Peter booked it down the next hallway. He shot himself into the air vent, knocking the outer metal piece out of place. Clint shot an arrow down the vent, but Peter webbed himself in with thick webbing.
Peter crawled for his life as the fire of the arrow began destroying the web. He quickly turned the corner and then turned to the next airshaft up.
Clint was way ahead of. He'd already blocked off the exits to the air vents that lead to the roof with reinforced titanium. Hopefully that was enough to stop the kid's super strength.
When Peter crawled out onto the twenty fifth story after having wasted too much time with the vents, Clint easily took him down with a single arrow that shot out of the window from him on the other side.
Peter crashed into the wall from the impact, leaving a gaping hole.
For a moment, Clint thought he may have actually killed the kid, until Peter started reaching for his mask, tearing it off.
"Close, but no cigar." Clint smiled as he avoided the broken glass from the shattered window and walked in.
"Damn." Peter cursed under his breath.
"You know; you shouldn't be cursing at your age." Clint lowered his smile into a small smirk as he helped the young hero from the rubble.
Peter hummed in acknowledgement as he brushed himself off.
"I figured you'd be better." Clint started, pausing for effect. "You know, with the whole sneaking out for patrol and all."
Peter was caught off guard. But before he looked up, he changed his facial expression from shocked to confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Can't lie to me, kiddo."
Peter groaned. "How'd you find out?"
"Simple." Clint started. "I was walking home after going out with some buddies of mine and I happen to run across a certain burglary. At a certain bank. Which a certain hooded teenager took out the guy. Odd, I know."
"How'd you know it was me?" Peter opened his hands by his sides with shaking his head, obviously annoyed.
"I've been helping you train for what? A month now?" Clint walked around Peter, his hands behind his back. "I know those moves from anywhere. Mostly because I taught them to you. That and your hood slid off as you climbed the building after taking the guy out. Smart: not using your suit and all."
"Great." Peter grunted, scratching his neck.
"Hold up, I'm not done." Clint continued, simply. "I also, sorta-kinda, may have, tried to catch you in the act."
"What does that mean?"
"I wanted to catch you and expose you for the liar you are. So I thought it would be funny if you showed up at home and I was… suddenly there."
"You went to my apartment?" Peter asked, becoming more anxious.
"Well I broke into your room. Only to realize—,"
"You broke into my room?!" Peter interrupted.
"Shut up, would you! I'm telling a story here!" Clint slapped him on the back on the head. "Listen. I went into your room, only to realize that you share a room with a guy that looks… nothing… like…you!" He emphasized each word. "At first, I thought maybe you were adopted but that wasn't it. No. Because you share a room with another kid. Then I had to hide in the closet because a woman, that couldn't possibly be your mother, came in to check on her kids."
Peter gulped. He rested his arm on his chest, hoping to calm his speeding heart. "One of the kids said that she was Mrs. Mason." He pointed to Peter. "Now I don't know about you, but I don't usually call my parents by their last name."
"So what?"
"So you're a foster kid, aren't you?"
"What does it matter!" Peter shouted getting worked up.
"It matters because you didn't tell us!" Clint shouted back, getting equally worked up.
"Yes! Okay!" Peter panted, trying to stay as calm as possible. It wasn't working. "You're right! I'm a foster kid!"
"Why didn't you tell us, then?" Clint asked, loudly.
Peter massaged his temples. "Because it's not important!"
"Yes, it is!"
"No, it's not!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!
"Stop it!" Peter shouted, pressing his hands to head. He was so filled with emotions he was having a hard time calming himself. Rage, distrust, sadness, guilt, fear… all the emotions that bubbled within the teen as he almost started hyperventilating.
"Alright. Let's just calm down." Clint moved toward Peter like he was trying to calm a wild animal. Peter turned away, backing up against a wall. Clint stopped his pursuit immediately when seeing his reaction.
"Why do you guys care so much?" Peter mumbled.
"What do you mean?"
"You track me down. Kidnap me. Force me into some weird Avenger's training sessions. Then—,"
"Technically, Steve did that." Clint cut in.
"Then you poke your way into my private life. Why?"
"We're family."
"I don't want a family!" Peter shouted. "I've gone through eight 'families', two of which I actually cared about! Eight sets of parents, and who knows how many siblings! I-I—,"
"That's not your fault!"
"Face it, I'm just no good at families! I'm just not meant to have one."
"You're wrong and you know it. Besides telling us helps us trust you, something very unique in our line of work." Clint said simply, changing his answer. "Knowing something personal creates trust."
"No it doesn't. Just because you know my favorite color doesn't mean I trust you." Peter said as an example.
"A random dude on the street can figure out your favorite color. I'm talking about personal-personal knowledge: like knowing their life. Their fears. Their weaknesses. Their enemies and their friends. Their likes and dislikes beyond color." He lists. "When you know that, it forms a bond, a bond is based on trust."
"I can't afford to make bonds!"
"Yes you can!"
"How do you know?" Peter shouted in complete frustration, tears starting to edge his eye lids, though they never fell.
"Because I've been there! Peter!"
That caught Peter's attention, that and that Clint actually used his name. "You've been where?"
"In foster care."
"You were in foster care?" Peter repeated, unbelievingly. He slid down the wall to a sitting position, his anger quickly fading at the outburst.
"Yeah." Clint nodded. "When I was younger my brother, Barney, and I worked at my dad's barber shop. My dad was a heavy, heavy drinker. He became abusive. That was when Barney and I tried learning how to fight back. Hence my hand-to-hand combat training." He smiled at that.
"Seems silly." Peter pointed out.
"But one night," Clint continued, coming to sit next to Peter, "him and our mom were driving home and they were killed in a car crash. Dad's fault, obviously. So we were forced into foster care."
"Sorry." Peter mumbled, feeling guilty.
"Foster care was awful." Clint chuckled sadly, continuing his story. "So Barney and I ran away. Eventually we ran into a traveling circus and ended up joining up."
Peter huffed, rolling his eyes at the irony. "Figures." Peter giggled softly, earning him an elbow to his ribs.
"Don't make fun. I met Jacques DuQuesne (a.k.a. the Swordsman) and Buck Chisholm (a.k.a. Trick Shot) there."
"Who were they?"
"My trainers. Trained me with a bow, with a sword, knives... you name it."
"So what's this got to do with me?" Peter asked.
"You have a future out there, beyond foster care. Who knows but this," Clint gestured to his surroundings, "may be your chance."
Though he was pointing to a broken building, Peter got the point.
"You have a family, here." Clint smiled, placing a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. "Take it."
For a moment, Peter was puzzled. He wanted to follow Clint's advice, but he felt cursed when it came to families.
They were going to die.
He supposed that everyone was going to die. But superheroes put themselves out there do die. Comes with the territory.
Eventually Peter chuckled at his own indecisiveness before saying, "This is weird."
"What?"
"You being all… mystic and wise."
"Hey!" Clint elbowed him again. "I'm still wise. It's more of the sappy stuff I'm not use to."
Peter laughed. "Thanks, Clint."
"You're welcome. Word from the wise though: you should tell Steve. He really enjoys having you around. I mean we all do, but him especially."
"You sound like Gwen." Peter smiled.
"Great minds, think alike."
"What's with the clichés today?"
"I'm in a cliché mood." Clint laid back against crossed arms.
Peter looked down at his folded hands that rested on his lap this whole time. "I'll think about it."
"Yeah. Yeah." Clint ruffled his hair. "You'd better get going. Since you failed this challenge, you still have three more to complete. You've wasted a lot of time, sitting here."
"Shoot! I forgot! Where's the next one?" Peter shot up to a standing position before running to the window looking for one of several screens that was connected to buildings around the city. Each showed his time. From the looks of it. As he did Clint gave him the location of the next challenge.
The clock read 43:21. He only had an hour and 16 minutes' left.
He looked back at Clint one last time, giving him a small smile before swinging off to his next task.
So Clint found out. Yes, that is the true story of Clint Barton, at least, according to comics. So I didn't make it up.
How did you like it? Was it too long?
There is a 'Gauntlet Part 2' so I hope you're ready for another one.
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