The Waiting Game
...
After a half hour, I'm hungry and angry. I can move now, and worked the feeling back into my legs by jogging angrily in the circular cell. The circle felt as if it grew smaller and smaller with each pass, to the point where it felt like there was no point at all. The moment I took off, I was passing by Rocket and Bereet again. They watched with bored expressions, till I gave up.
I pace instead, peppering Rocket and Bereet with questions, but none of them have any answers.
Finally, the door slides open again. But there's no one there.
"Ah, finally, my favorite time of the day," Rocket cracks his knuckles and waltzes right out, followed by Bereet.
"They're letting us out?" I ask, quickly following them, flinching when the door slides shut way too quickly behind us. It could have cut me clean in half if I had hesitated a half-second sooner.
Rocket walks right through the annex into the weapons room that I saw, gloating gleefully over the racks. "This is more like it," he says happily.
"I would pick out a weapon, if I were you," Bereet says, nodding to a guard at the door. The guard opens the door for her. "See you."
"Wait. Where are you going?"
"To put on my outfit. You should pick out a weapon." She gestures to my face. "Don't clean up too much. You'll look more intimidating with that handprint."
She smiles at the guard, and he greets her with familiarity. "Silver or gold today?" he asks.
"It's a surprise," she smiles back. Catching my look, she frowns. "Not everyone here is evil," she says lightly. The guard shuts the door behind her, and stares at me awkwardly.
"Hey," I say.
"Greetings," he replies confusedly.
"Want to hold the door open for me?" I quip, grinning.
"I'm not allowed to," he responds slowly, looking confused. "You must be new."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Sadly. If you want my advice, get a range weapon, not melee." The man gestures over to Rocket. "The rat child has the right idea."
"How do I know you're not setting me up?" I ask, tilting my head. "You're keeping us in here."
He narrows his eyes at me. "I'm in here too, child. We've got two ways we can look at life on Sakaar. Either we're slaves, or we're prisoners with jobs. This is my job. Door duty."
"What's your name?"
"Gorin. You?"
"Peter."
Suddenly there is a cackle of laughter. Rocket is testing a strange looking crossbow without arrows. It's a bit thicker, white-metal plated with red stripes. Instead of string, it has small mechanisms shaped like turbines.
A small bolt of energy sings out, putting a red-hot hole in the wall the size of a baseball. Smoke trails out of it. Another guard quickly rushes over and holds out his hand. "Give it over, Rocket," he demands. "You're not supposed to use 'em in here."
"You chumps spoil all the fun," Rocket hands the gun back to him, subdued.
"So why should I get something long range?" I ask, turning back to Gorin. He's a large person, heavily armored in dark green and blackened metal. He wears a long, magenta cape, and carries the same type of weapon Rocket was looking at, only it's much - much bigger. His skin is as dark as the metal, his beard and thick, curling hair even darker.
His eyes are a startling golden-yellow as they bore into me. "Because you are small, and the game-players are mighty. By the time you are in close hand-to-hand combat, you're dead. But you buy yourself a few moments of life if you can take them out before they get to you."
"Oh, okay."
"I would not take too long deciding," Gorin glances nervously up at a neon-pink marquee about the size of a breadbox affixed to the wall near the ceiling. The letters, very Star-Wars looking and entirely unreadable by me, are ticking down and changing shapes. "It's almost your turn."
I feel my stomach turn over. I walk over to join Rocket, examining the weapons hanging on the walls. "Long range?" I ask weakly.
"Well, well, well, you've come to the right place," Rocket says creepily, pointing at a long handled battle axe. The blades are shaped more like the Federation symbol from Star Trek, not like a dwarven fighting axe in a fantasy movie.
I pull it off the wall carefully. It's heavy, but not unmanageable. "This is not long range," I say.
"That trigger there on the handle shoots out blue energy blasts from that point, y'know," Rocket answers. "It's great range. How's your aim?"
I think about my web shooters. Wishing I had them. "It's decent."
"Good. Load up. Let's get you that one. Ooh, and put this knife in your boot."
"I'm not wearing boots."
"You might, though. Take that knife off the top - I can't reach - good. And grab that spear. You can throw that. No, grab two."
"I only have two hands."
Rocket grins. "You only got one life."
Another door at the far end of the room opens, and the guard hands Rocket the weapon he had taken away from him earlier.
"Wish me luck," Rocket cranks the lever on the gun with a satisfying ker-chick.
"Wait - you're fighting?"
"Why do ya think they had me in there for? Keepin' you company? I'm a fighter too! And a good one!" Rocket's bushy tail disappears through the door, followed closely by the guard. "They give me all the tiny aliens to kill. It's a frickin' insult."
"Holy shit," I say. "Well - uh - good lu…"
The door slides shut behind him.
So much for that.
It doesn't take long for the walls to shake with cheers and crashes from somewhere beyond the room. I can hear a thunderous crowd, the rattling of heavy thuds in the ground.
I start pacing again to try and distract myself.
"Hey! You!" says a familiar voice.
I turn slowly and look at the pink, electrical bars of energy separating the weapons hall from the bar on the other side.
It's MJ. She looks as radiant - and as confused - as she did before. The sapphire dress reflects the pink energy, turning it a slight purple color. She's not carrying a tray of drinks this time. Her eyes rove over me, as if to look for signs of any familiarity - but she finds nothing.
"MJ," I whisper hoarsely.
"Stop using that name," she hisses. "Come here. I need to talk to you." She looks over my shoulder briefly. "Gorin, right?" she asks.
Gorin shakes his head. "I absolve myself of this." With a sheenk sound, he opens the same door he let Bereet through, steps inside, and shuts it again.
There's an awkward pause, and I look at MJ again. Really look at her. She's too thin. She's paler. She hands look a little too long for her body - I realize she's malnourished. Actually malnourished.
I take a few careful steps towards her. "It's you. It's really you."
"Who are you?" she asks firmly. "I don't have a lot of time before Gorin comes back. So no bullshit."
"It's - it's me. Peter Parker," I say, taking a few more steps. "You don't remember me?"
"Of course not. How would I know you?"
"We grew up together. On Midgard. We're best friends."
She gives me a critical look. "You don't look like a friend."
I don't expect the animosity radiating from her, and it saddens me to my core - making me feel heavier, somehow. The air between us drawn and worn through with darkness.
"What do I look like, then?" I ask confusedly.
"You look like someone who is going to die in the next game."
"I might," I say quickly. "I might. So. If I do. Before I go. You should know that you are missed very much. Your parents. My aunt and I. Ned. We all love you. We thought you had died, we thought…"
"Slow down," she says, and her voice aches with pain, shaking her head as if the physical movement will ward off the truth. "I have no life before Sakaar. Everyone knows that. When you wake up here, and eat the food, you forget. And that's it. So. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Petra…"
"Peter." I pause, painfully. "So I can't call you MJ?"
"They call me Sendriel. You'll need to call me that too."
"I am not calling you that."
"Call me Sendriel, or it's back to the pens for me, and getting force-fed something to make me even dumber than I am now," she snarls angrily.
Then she quickly hushes, glancing worriedly over her shoulder. No one is paying us any attention. Patrons are drinking, playing card games, canoodling in dark corners.
"So you know the food is making you forget," I whisper.
"Of course I do. I see what it does to all the newcomers," she sighs. "Listen, I don't want that to happen to you. I pulled some untainted water for you. And a few crackers. Here." She slips them between the pink, humming beams.
I accept the small waterskin and the palm-sized paper wrapping that looks small enough to have, maybe, three saltine crackers in it.
"Why are you helping me?" I ask.
"If you knew me from Midgard…"
"I did!"
"If you knew me from Midgard - then - I'm - well, call it an investment. I have questions about myself. If you survive. My curiosity is conditional."
"I'll tell you anything."
"Shit. Just slow down, okay? It's a two-edged sword. I also can't trust anything you say."
"Then why bother?"
"Because I can't trust anyone, so," MJ shrugs. "Might as well hear you out."
"When can we talk?"
MJ sighs. "If you survive your first battle, we'll talk after."
"I'll survive," I say heatedly. "I promise. I'll do whatever it takes. There's something else, though… I need..."
"That's all the food I can sneak you for now, you dope. Do you realize how it hard it was to get that? If anything, at least you won't forget your own name."
"It's not about food. My aunt. May."
"Who?"
"My aunt was taken in the square. I fought and I was brought here. But she had some of the food and forgot… well, she got weird, and then we were separated…"
"Oh," MJ looks disheartened. "I know where she is."
"You DO?" I nearly throw my whole body through the beams right then and there, remembering at the last minute that I didn't know if they delivered a simple shock, or sliced through a body like lightsabers. "Where is she? Is she okay?"
MJ doesn't answer at first, filling me with dread.
"Please, please, please tell me if she's okay," I whisper, my eyes filling unexpectedly. "She's all I have. Especially… especially if the MJ I knew is gone for good. Please. Where is she?"
MJ gives me a look of surprise. "She's imprisoned."
"Oh, god. Are they mistreating her?"
"Not that she'd notice." MJ gives a brief nod over my shoulder. The other door slid open, and Gorin returns to his post, arms crossing over his chest. "Times up," she says. "I have to go."
"No wait, please, wait!"
But then she's gone, and the second door is sliding open behind me.
Rocket comes stumbling through, looking a little disheveled, but not injured in anyway. His small vest is rumpled, and he's forced to hand the gun back over to the guard that followed him in.
"Here ya go, you filthy bastard," Rocket says in a congenial tone. He gives me a challenging look and a shit-eating grin. "Pick up your weapons, Parks. It's your turn."
...
...
NEXT: A fight to the death for Peter and a familiar creature...
Thank you so much to Crystal, QueenofCrystallopia here on fanfic, for being the listening ear when I struggle so hard on the tiniest things!
Personal Review Replies
blueflame4676 - Thank-you so so much for reviewing! I live off these! I am so glad you are enjoying my story.
Tightpants182 - Your wish is my command! This chapter was a bit longer! I'm trying to do shorter ones for this story (at least shorter than Avenge the Departed, because wow, those were long lol...) so that I don't get burnt out and post more frequently. But this one just flowed too easily from one scene to the next, I couldn't find a good stopping place haha.
LoonyLovegood1981 - Thank-you so much for your review as always! you're the best! We will get to see May soon (ish)
Guest - iGracias por tu evaluación!
Further Reading on my profile!
Into Oblivion - Peter Parker's uncle left him an infinity stone, and he'll have to do whatever it takes to get it off planet and destroy it before Thanos can return. Epic, galaxy wide adventure starring many other Avengers and based on The Fellowship of the Ring.
**NEW STORY** Rewrite the Stars - MJ and Peter finally admit their feelings for one another in a less-than-ideal setting.
Avenge the Departed - An epic crime thriller of every dark and violent nightmare come to life in the Marvel world, also featuring Deadpool. Peter Parker goes undercover sans mask in the Vulture's crime world, and Bucky Barnes is planted in the Avengers by Hydra. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers scramble to stay ahead of the corruption. Based on "The Departed" movie.
The Vast Marvel - collection of Marvel one shots! I suggest adding this story to an "alert" for when I post short drabbles!
Deadpool is Pissed - humorous one shot featuring Deadpool, Peter Parker, and Korg!
Down Came the Rain - my first fully fledged Spider-Man fic, starring other Avengers as well. Peter is kidnapped by a rogue NYPD cop, tortured for information on the Avengers, and released. He copes badly with the psychological aftermath. Interlude book between Spider-Man: Homecoming and Infinity War. Told in flash backs and flash forwards like 13 Reasons Why.
Down Came the Rain Retold - a repost of the above fic, and may I say, the far superior version. Told chronologically, scenes are added and expanded, plot holes and timelines fixed, characterization added... easier to read, track with. Plot and character growth is more obvious.
That One Time Peter Parker Accidentally Did Cocaine - yup, based on another crazy dream I had. One shot. Title is exactly how it sounds haha. Peter does drugs, and his totally (alive!) Dad is not happy about it - for more reasons than one. Tony Stark is even worse.