Chapter 7 - Old Wounds, Fresh Cuts
It had been a long week for Peter. His frustration had continually been building up and every day turned out crappier than the previous one. His mind constantly wanted to drift off even now as he read through his notes from biology class. Well, Ned's notes. Peter never really was the kind of student who had to sit down and study. He was lucky enough to just pick up most of the facts by listening in class, which came in handy with all the afternoons and evenings he spent with Spider-Man patrols. His level of frustration was directly proportionate to his listening abilities though, it seemed. After the embarrassing episode in Mrs. Warren's class, he'd been called out repeatedly by different teachers throughout the week for daydreaming. He wasn't really daydreaming though, he'd been building his case. He was bursting with his big secret. He needed to talk to someone - really anyone – but first had to try and figure out the best way to tell Ned or May. It was driving him mad. The constant tension and worry that he would let something slip. Everything he had experienced was piling up in his mind and there was nobody to unload his stories on or bounce his questions off.
For more than a week he had mulled over his speeches to May and Ned in his head, there was one thing he'd realized though. He didn't know enough. He didn't really understand what had happened to him - well, apart from the obvious result of the radioactive spider bite that had left him with spider powers, somehow. But he had no idea what had actually happened to his body. If he were to tell Ned he'd be sure of one thing: he'd be bombarded with a million questions about his powers and what it meant and how it worked and how it felt. And he didn't have a single answer to any of it. No, it just wasn't an option. As much as all the secrecy started to bother him, he first had to find some more answers.
Now, telling May would not just mean a million questions in addition to a thousand reproachful scoldings. If he ever wanted to even start to work on getting May's blessing to keep his Spider-Man career going, he would definitely have to be able to answer some of those questions. So far, he'd really just gone with the flow. He tested out his strength and his boundaries. He had no idea if his powers were at all evolving or changing. Was he as strong as he had been that first time he had surprised himself with actually being able to lift a car? He was healing faster now than he had before the bite. A lot faster. Any scratch would be gone in a few hours. He had cut his finger helping May prepare dinner the other week. It had hurt like hell and the cut had been deep enough to send May running for the first-aid kit.
"Let me see that." May hurried back from the bathroom, first-aid kit in hand."
"It's fine, I can do it!"
"Don't be silly, show me!"
He took off the paper towel he'd been pressing on his left index finger and let her take his hand.
"Oh, god! Put that towel back on your finger and put some pressure on it!" She opened the kit, cursed under her breath. Peter could see her shuffle through the limited material still left in the box.
"It's fine, May! It'll stop bleeding on its own in a bit!"
"You, be quiet!" She took a deep breath and Peter groaned in frustration.
"Seriously, May, I know you can't stand blood. It'll be fine."
She had found a piece of wound-dressing and a small roll of gauze.
"Finger!"
He rolled his eyes and stretched out his left hand towards her. She dragged him closer to the kitchen sink and turned on the water. After she had tested the temperature she eased his finger under the soft stream and swallowed hard eyes on the blood flowing out of his wound as it mixed with the water. "Does that hurt?"
"It stings a little, but it's not too bad."
"Alright." She held his hand and turned his finger from side to side to clean the wound. Peter could feel it throbbing and took a deep breath, careful to be quiet about it. He struggled to keep a straight face. May would freak out if he let this get to him. It did sting. He'd dealt with small scrapes and the odd bump since becoming Spider-Man. Especially in the beginning when he was still figuring out his strength, his clumsiness earned him a few scraped knees and bruises when he occasionally got knocked against a building wall before he was able to completely control his swinging. Nothing too serious though. Nothing too hurtful. And the injuries disappeared within a few hours. As he was watching the blood flow freely from the deep cut in his finger, he truly realized for the first time since he had started his crime-fighting that a proper injury, if something were to pierce his skin… It would hurt. A lot. His Spidey-powers were no help here. They didn't dull the pain. The longer he looked at his finger, the stronger the sting seemed to get. Were his senses amplifying the pain?
"Peter, are you alright? You've gone all white!" Her hand softly ruffled his hair, then wandered down cupping his face. "Should we take you to the emergency room? Get this stitched up?"
"No!" He shook his head and pulled his hand back. The blood-soaked paper towel tightly in his hand, he quickly covered the finger with it. "It's just a small cut. I'll be fine!"
It would heal super quick. There was absolutely no way he'd let May pay a ridiculous emergency room bill for something that his healing factor would handle in no time!
"It's pretty deep, Peter. It will probably scar."
"It's just a cut."
May bit her lip and studied him. "Alright then." She reached for his hand again, carefully applied the wound dressing and then wrapped it with gauze.
"We'll look at it in the morning. If there's any sign of infection, we'll go straight to the doctor."
Peter's eye widened. "It's... it'll be just fine!" He had no idea how fast this cut would heal, but he assumed fast enough that May would get mighty suspicious come morning time if his finger happened to look almost untouched.
"Go sit down, honey. I'll finish dinner."
That night he could hardly sleep at all. His alarm was set to 5:30. That would give him an hour before May got up, but he just couldn't go to sleep. His mind mulled over all the possibilities again and again. Well, the two possibilities he could come up with to keep May in the dark about his accelerated healing speed. He could either leave the apartment before she was properly awake and would remember that she wanted to check his finger or he would have to, well, recreate the wound. Take that knife from the kitchen counter and slice up his own finger deep enough to convince May. His heart would race just at the thought and a shiver ran through his body. A glance to his bedside table told him that it was 1:20 am. He was slowly stroking his finger before he softly pressed onto the wound. It was still tender and the cut throbbed slightly, but there was no telling how far along the healing process had gotten. It was still covered by gauze and he wasn't really into the idea to take it off. What if the cut was gone come morning. He gasped for air. He would have to run for the kitchen and grab the knife to cut his finger. What if the panic had made him forget which finger was injured in the first place?
"Stop it." His voice shook. He needed to calm the eff down.
In the morning Peter just couldn't do it. His head would fill with the beat of his erratic heart and he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Just the thought of pulling back the gauze... no! By the time May got up, he was already dressed for school, really just waiting for her to come out of her bedroom so he could shout a quick "Totally forgot, early project meeting with Ned!" and dash from the apartment before May could even answer. It took him another 30 minutes and a nice morning sandwich from Delmar's to muster up the nerve to take off the bandage.
A red line was still clearly visible, but the wound had completely dried up and was almost closed. He had let out a shaky breath and bit the nails on his right hand. All he could do was to just stare at the finger. Come evening, there wouldn't be much of a wound left for May to inspect. Unless...
His head propped up in his right hand, Peter had his elbow resting on his desk. He had abandoned his biology notes to stare at his left index finger. No scar, no nothing that reminded of the incident from a few weeks ago. Nothing that would suggest that he had cut this finger what had felt like to the bone. In the rational part of his mind, he knew that it hadn't been that deep of a cut, but to his panicked brain, that's what it had felt like. Definitely deep enough that is would have taken a normal person a couple of weeks to heal. In his panic to keep May in the dark, he had reopened that wound twice a day for over a week. It was probably the most messed up thing he'd done since he had become Spider-Man. Well, the most messed up thing he had done, period. May could never find out about that particular incident. Even if he could muster up the courage to tell her about his Spidey-powers, this little anecdote was too much.
He wasn't sure if his healing had changed since he had first developed his enhancements. If it had improved over time or if his powers came in all at once. There was no way to tell and his healing factor was definitely not among the things he would poke around in his quest for answers. The less he needed that particular skill, the better.
He could test out his strength and his agility and then just assume whatever increase or decrease he could record over time would be directly related to his healing factor as well. More important would be to figure out if the bite had changed his human makeup, his core. He reached over for Ned's biology notes on the discovery of the DNA Double Helix. This would have to be his starting point.
Tony was sitting outside on the platform of his Penthouse, coffee in hand. He'd been discussing the remodel with two different contractors all morning and most of the afternoon. It hadn't been hard to pick out the more qualified one, or rather the one who would promise to deliver results promptly. A little bonus incentive had persuaded the man to start the next day. Never let it be said that money can't buy happiness. His own floors in the tower with all the personal freedom of movement that entailed was all the happiness he could wish for right now. His plan was unfolding nicely and with the little extra financial injection, the groundwork would be done in about a week. It was only a few walls and a proper paint job after all. He turned back around and headed inside. It was only March and up on the 68th floor, the wind tended to be chilly.
"FRIDAY, I'm going to need a few suggestions on what furniture to buy."
"Of course, Sir. I can research the latest interior design blogs and trade fair articles for current trends."
"Hmm..."
"I could also forward you additional information on room arrangements corresponding to the latest scientific findings concerning its influence on mood and personality attributes."
"Didn't we redo SI HQ in LA last year?"
"Yes, Sir. Miss Potts oversaw most of the remodel and the coordination of the interior design. I can inform her about your desire to-"
"No!"
"Very well, Sir."
"Just... just send me the list of the furniture she bought... I just want to browse through it."
"Will do, Boss."
Tony looked down at his phone. It had been over a week. He'd tried to call her last Saturday, but she hadn't answered. He had tried again before Rhodey came to visit. Honestly, he hadn't been surprised when she hadn't picked up. At first Tony had been glad when the call went to voicemail and he hadn't bothered to leave a message. He had not really been ready to talk to her and she had all the right in the world to still be pissed. He had called again on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday... every day for over a week. He sighed. After a week, on Saturday he had left the first voicemail, had asked her to call him back, told her he didn't want to apologize via her answering machine. But she hadn't. He'd tried again every day at noon and after the evening news when he'd be less likely to disturb her routine.
Just as he was about to put the phone back into his pocket if rang and Rogers face popped up on the screen.
"Urgh..."
"Boss, we have a code B1."
He picked up the call at once. "Rogers, shoot."
"Subject we've been monitoring. Biochemical. Van heading west from Queens towards Manhattan, probably Queensboro Bridge. Target assumed to be the subway. Lexington Avenue station on 59th street most convenient on the route."
The suit had assembled around Tony.
"I'm at the Tower, only a minute trip for me."
"We're leaving the Compound in a couple of minutes. I need you to wait."
"Wait? Are you serious?"
"You can't handle this on your own. They might set it off prematurely if they know we're onto them!"
"Yeah, cause the Quinjet will be super low key. Come on, Cap!"
"The Quinjet can be cloaked. We're boarding now. Stay out of sight!"
Rogers hung up and left Tony planted in the living room of the penthouse in the Iron Man suit. Okay… what was the most inconspicuous way that he could get himself 17 blocks to the north?
"FRI, did we get any tracking data from the team to monitor the subject?" He went outside onto the platform, his gaze towards Queens. "And, also, the team?"
"Not so far, Boss."
Tony opened up the channel to the team com "Cap, do you read me?"
Radio silence. They were not in range then. Yet. He paced up and down the platform.
"Screw this." He simply jumped off to the southern side of the tower, circled around it and headed up Park Avenue. He kept himself high enough to be out of sight of the pedestrians and slow enough not to cause too much attention. The high Manhattan buildings to his right covered him for the eyes of anyone coming from the east.
"Guys, do you read me?" He made it 57th street in about a minute and had landed on the Four Seasons only a couple blocks from the subway station he assumed Rogers had been talking about.
"FRIDAY, pick out any vans coming over the bridge."
"Will do, Boss."
"Guys?"
"Tony, we read you." Natasha's voice came through, still crackling. "We're about 10 miles out. Slowing down for final approach."
"I'm on top of the Four Season. What am I looking for?"
Rogers gave him the update. "White Van, no markings. 4 people. It's heading toward the bridge. Stay put for now, Tony."
"Alright, Cap. Mind sending over the tracking info?"
"Sam is sending you the data we have."
Just then the van appeared on the interface of his helmet.
"FRIDAY calculates that they are three minutes out."
"We're here. Will leave the Quinjet cloaked overhead the station." Nat's voice was strained as she was focused on the different levers and buttons to get the Quinjet in position.
"Vision, get yourself down underground in case they try to run down the steps before we can get to all of them. Sam, I want you popped up on one of the middle sized buildings overhead the entrance to the station. Wanda, you're taking the other side. Nat and I will get down onto the sidewalk. Tony, any way you can make your way over here without causing a scene among the pedestrian?"
"Well, I managed to come up Park just fine..."
"Alright, I want you to stay on the corner of Park in case we miscalculated and they continue further west. If they do, engage. Wait for my sign though. Otherwise, we'll need to you get the civilians out of our way."
"Copy that." Tony sighed and made his way off the Four Seasons further to the north. "They're on the bridge now."
"Alright, everyone. Sam, Wanda, give us a heads up when you have eyes on them."
A short "Copy, in position." came through from Wanda. Sam's drone showed up on Tony's radar.
"Redwing has eyes on them. Scanning now. 4 dudes, alright. They all have breathing masks with them. Two of them carry what looks like vials. One might be a decoy. They're coming off the bridge now, should get off the feeder any moment."
"Everyone in place?" The team confirmed their positions. Tony had made it to 59th street, staying high, he once again used the building on the corner as a shield.
"They're here Cap," Sam spoke in a low but clear voice.
"Copy, I have eyes on them as well. We need to find the weapon before we engage. Wanda?"
"Van parked across the street. They're getting out."
"Tall dude, leather Jacket is #1 one. The other tall dude with no hair has the second."
"Wanda, you keep an eye out for those vials to appear. Secure them when you can."
Then everything happened super fast. Bald, tall guy broke away from the group and headed towards the stairs that lead down to the subway. Natasha was on his heal, immediately warned Vision so they could trap him between them. Cap, Sam, and Wanda engage the other three and Wanda tried to immobilize Leather-Jacket. As soon as Tony could tell that they were made by the terrorists, he swooped in, stopped and diverted traffic. He urged people to run into the other direction as he got closer to the action.
"We got the bald guy. Got the vial, clear liquid, probably the decoy." Nat was breathing heavily.
"I'm tying him to the handrail on the stairs. Natasha is making her way up to the street." Visions voice, in contrast, was the personification of calm.
"Did anyone inform the authorities to halt the subway line?" Tony had almost made it to Cap and Wanda. Sam flew overhead them. Maybe he would have circled around them, but the men had pulled out guns and backtracked slowly towards the bridge.
"Not the time, Tony." Not the time? Was Cap serio- An explosion rocked the street and set the cars in front of them on fire.
"They pulled out the grenades."
"You didn't say anything about grenades, Sam!"
"Sorry, Cap. Grenades were implied."
Tony shot quickly toward the smoke, the suits scanners outlined moving bodies even though his own view was obstructed by smoke.
"They're pulling in people." Tony updated the others.
"He's right, 7 civilians now lined around them as shields. They keep moving towards the bridge." Sam had landed on top of The Home Depot and peered through the smoke.
"Wanda, any chance you can access that vial?"
"Sorry, Steve. It's fastened somewhere and won't budge."
"We need to get those people out!" Tony could feel Rogers follow behind him. "Tony, what do you see?"
"Two of them are threatening the civilians, one of them Leather-Jacket. The third is pulling more people in."
"Distract them and Wanda and I will get the people out!"
"Distract them how? I go at them, they might set off the device!"
"Guys, something's happening." Sam pulled their attention back towards the terrorists turned kidnappers. Tony had just made it through the smoke, Rogers on his heals.
"Nat, where are you at?"
"I'm on your left, have eyes on them. Wanda's hovering somewhere above me. Fuck, this is getting tricky."
Tony had his eyes still fixed on the group in front of him when Leather-Jacket stepped out in front of the crowd of hostages. He dragged a young woman by her neck, vial pressed against her face. His henchmen still fired shots towards Wilson and Wanda above them.
"Avengers," his voice cold and mocking. "How about you fuck off and everyone here gets to go home in one piece?"
Tony forced out the breath he had just realized he had been holding when Rogers' voice came quietly over the comm.
"Wanda, any chance of getting that vial?" Another round of bullets delayed her answer to Rogers question.
"He's gripping it too tightly. If I interfere, he might just smash it right there. Vis, can you get around them?"
"Certainly!"
"Wait, Vision. If we have someone shot out from behind them, it might escalate the situation." Steve was right behind him now. "Tony, what do we do?"
The comm stayed quiet then. Tony mulled the situation over. Shit, there was no obvious path here. He could take them out execution-style but there was always a chance that the vial got smashed. If they would back off, Leather-Jacket might just strap on his mask, smash it and run for it. They couldn't advance any further or he might smash it either way in a panic and sacrifice himself in the process, so they stayed put.
"Seriously, Cap, now you come to me for advice on a maneuver?"
Rogers huffed. "We need to do something!"
"I'm aware of that!" Tony gritted his teeth. His glance wandered over the buildings to their right side. "They're only a few feet from the crossing to 3rd Avenue. They'll probably want to move further down and then we'll have the other two guys disappearing off to somewhere while we're kept here by Leather-Jacket. He'll give them a head start and pop that vial, probably put on his mask and take his chances to outrun us through the hostages." Tony took a deep breath and added in a low voice. "We have to engage, now."
Rogers' huff echoed through the comm. "We engage now and those hostages will die and who knows how many more as this is swept across town."
"We wait and they'll probably die anyway and we let the terrorists escape to do it again." Tony flexed his muscles and got the suit into positions to strike. "I'll set up a headshot. Wanda could try to contain whatever's in that vial if he does crack it before I get to him."
"I don't know if I can do that."
"Well, give it your best shot."
"Tony, you can't -" Rogers had taken a step towards him but froze when he realized. There was a commotion among the hostages. Leather-Jacket turned and looked back and forth. Before either of the Avengers could react he was covered in a cocoon-like an oversized caterpillar.
The Avengers minus Tony were just as stunned as the hostages and actually missed a beat to follow the other two now escaping terrorists. Oh boy… Tony blew out a deep breath and shot forward. "Come on, guys!" He shooed the remaining hostages out of the way and made them run towards the subway for cover. The henchmen skedaddled towards 3rd Avenue, headed into different directions while they kept up the firestorm to shield themselves. One of them threw another grenade not into the direction of the Avengers but towards the bridge. Their target dodged the grenade. Spider-Man then pinned the shell onto the street behind him and ducked at it exploded. The man dropped his arms, turned and stared at the hole the grenade had left in the middle of the road.
"I got this Cap, go after them!"
"Vision, Wanda, make your way to the left. Sam, come with me!"
Tony focused on Leather-Jacket and the woman who still stood right next to him.
"Nat, we need a perimeter," he quietly told her over the comm as he landed right in front of the terrorist and his young hostage.
Natasha was right behind him, shouting orders at the law enforcement officers that had shown up, as he let his face mask retract. "Hey, young lady, you'll be just fine, alright. Deep breaths." He gave her what he hoped looked like a confident nod. The asshole had his legs and left arm webbed to the road and was immobilized. The other arm and the vial inside his hand glued to the girl. Just then did Tony realize that the girl too had been webbed to the street and to her kidnapper.
"Hey, Spiderling! Snap out of it and get over here!"
Spider-Man flinched before he tore his glance from the hole in the ground and the burning cars around him. He rolled back and forth on his feet before he took a few slow and small steps over to where Natasha now tried to soothe the girl. Tony pulled at the web on her arm but got nowhere.
"Mr. Stark... Good to see you again." Nat's head shot up at Tony, her brow furrowed.
"We need to get this off. I really don't want to use the laser around her."
"She needs to stay still, 'til you get that vial out of his hand first." Spider-Man kept his distance from them. As he spoke his eyes wandered up and down the street. "If that thing in his hand is what it seems to be, all these people need to get away fast."
The girl's eyes widened and her breathing started to border on hyperventilating.
"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious." Nat's voice came low and venomous. "Tony, what is going on here."
Tony shook his head and her a look. Now was not the time! The gauntlet on his right hand retracted now as well and he cupped the girl's face. "Alright, breath with me. You're okay. We'll get you out of this, alright." He mimicked a couple of deep breaths until he saw the Spiderling come closer.
He put a hand on the girl's shoulder and awkwardly patted it twice. "He can't move his hand. I webbed it so he can't smash it or drop it." Then he looked up at Tony and tilted his head a bit.
Great. He couldn't drop it as long as he was glued in place. Glued to her. When they would free her, they would also free him.
Just great.
