Chapter 8: …and Go About It In A Way That I Shouldn't
"SHIELD…" I couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe this.
Tony waved a hand dismissively, "They're like FBI, or CIA, or NCIS whatever, except they went way kinkier with their acronyms. They're kinda like the Flying Monkeys of America. Still."
"Flying Monkeys," I repeated faintly. I couldn't think. I was thinking too much. S.H.I.E.L.D. I'd almost forgotten the organization, but seeing the symbol in front of me, realizing the implications, suddenly all those memories came flooding back. I swallowed, squeezing my hands into fists. I didn't want to think about this. Didn't want to think about what yet another secret in my father's life meant.
"The government is evil," Tony whispered conspiratorially before straightening with a curious look in his eyes. "You recognize this."
"They're on wiki," I replied weakly. They were. I had looked up everything that I could on SHIELD the days immediately following Fury's terrifying visit to my home.
Tony's gaze was speculative, as if he suspected that I was holding something back, but he only nodded and leaned back with a grin, "You know some pretty useless information, Peter."
"Oh like you're one to talk," I retorted, though it lacked my usual levity. I took a breath, my voice embarrassingly stuttering, "Wh—why do you think my father's files are all classified?"
The grin dropped from Tony's face, leaving his expression unusually serious, "Peter, I know you're smart enough to know why."
I exhaled, slumping in my seat, "Yeah, I know."
"It doesn't change anything," Tony continued in a lighter tone of voice, even though he knew that it did. "I can still get your dad's files. It'll just take a wee more effort than a spontaneous hack job. But I'm Tony Stark. Give me some time and I can—"
"Tony." I interrupted. I smiled feebly, "Tony it's alright. It was just a thought anyway. We shouldn't hack into government protected files."
"I was planning to hack into SHIELD's mainframe sometime anyway," Tony replied, looking at me searchingly. "They're kind of sketchy. Like even more so than Dr. Evil."
"I'm sure you'll report it if they're breaking any copyright laws," I grinned. And then my grin smoothed into a timid smile, "I—thank you."
I was thanking him for trying. Trying even now. Thanking him also for not asking questions, although I could tell that he was dying to. The newspapers all said that Tony's worth was dependent on his genius. I thought it should have been for his kindness.
Tony's expressions softened, and leaning forward, he gave my hair a quick ruffle, "No problem kiddo."
We left that conversation there, but Tuesday found me in front of the door to the SHIELD HQ. I didn't take up Tony's offer to find what my dad's files contained because I didn't want to involve him, not because I was willing to take it lying down. SHIELD had come to me previously about Spiderman, but they had neglected to mention that my father was connected to them. I held no small amount of anger for that slight.
The headquarters of what according to Tony was a 'super spy organization' turned out to be rather mundane. It was about three stories of unassuming brown brick, although the front entrance walls were a classy glass that did rather pull the whole look off.
I took a breath, and stalked in.
There were a few men and women poised in the foyer who looked like guards or just workers in need of a break, but I only needed one person. I stopped before the secretary's desk. The secretary was a man with rippling muscles that bled away some of my righteous anger and made me feel rather nervous.
The secretary, who had been typing away on his computer, looked up with dark brittle eyes. His voice was steel, "May I help you?"
"Hi," I said as authoritatively as possible, "I was wondering if I could speak with Nick Fury?"
If possible, the secretary's eyes became harder, "The director."
He didn't say it like a question.
I jerked my head in a nod, "Yeah, him."
The secretary didn't take his eyes off me as he reached to the right and grabbed a phone. He punched in the numbers so quickly I almost didn't see them and after a second I heard the distinct ringing through the earpiece.
"Your name?" The secretary asked.
For an insane moment I wondered if I should give a false name, but thankfully common sense came through and I dismissed the thought. Fury had already shown that SHIELD knew about me, so there was no point in going incognito.
"It's Peter," I replied, "Peter Parker."
The secretary looked like he was going to ask more questions, but thankfully I was saved by a click from the phone as the other end finally picked up.
"Hello?" The secretary said in a flat voice, "There's a Peter Parker here for Nick Fury. Yes, he asked for him specifically."
A few lines were exchanged before the secretary finally set down the phone. The guy on the other end indicated that he was going to check the databases, and gave the green light for me. I was instantly wary, because although I knew SHEILD knew about me, this was indication that they had my information on their computers, and I couldn't say I liked the sound of that.
On the other hand, the secretary relaxed minutely, seeming to realize that I wasn't a threat. Small blessings.
"Director Fury is not in at the moment," the secretary said to me. His voice was still pretty flat but it lacked the tinge of hostility that had been there before, "If your situation is urgent, we have others who can handle the crisis until Director Fury is back. Or you could wait in Director Fury's office."
I smiled weakly, "The second option sounds pretty good."
"Very well," the secretary nodded, before waving one of the guards over, "Harrison will guide you to Director Fury's office."
I thanked him and nodded at the big guy who came over at the secretary's command. He gave a short nod back before turning towards the elevators, and, knowing I was supposed to follow, I trailed after him.
Nick Fury's office was different from Tony Stark's office. Then again, I hadn't really expected them to be similar. Or anyone's office to be like Tony's, really. Fury's workplace was clean and well organized, and while there were little hints of sentimentality, there was nothing gaudy like a lego toy.
Harrison left me as soon as he showed me in. I'd really meant to wait. I really did. But then I saw the floor plans.
They were a plaque on Fury's wall. They were practically demanding to be looked at.
And I saw.
While the building was about an average New York structure size outside, it was another story for the inside. There was an elaborate design of basements that while were gloomy, were apparently safer or something than a high rise. And Basement #1 had a records room.
A records room.
I didn't even think. I was moving before I was aware of it.
I took a breath, feeling abnormally jittery. Then again, that was the kind of feeling you usually got when you were about to break the law and had a very very high chance of getting caught.
Steeling myself, I squared my shoulders and slipped out of Fury's office.
The first thing I noticed was that they had more security than Oscorp Thankfully with my days as Spiderman, I'd learned all there was to avoiding security cameras. I observed them for a minute to figure out the rotation patterns and blindspots before ducking forward with inhuman speed.
I had a feeling I'd be caught anyway, but hopefully by then I'd have had a peek at what might be on my father in the records room.
I almost, almost made it there without incident.
And then my luck ran out.
I was crossing one of the empty garages of huge white trucks when quite suddenly, the doors were being slammed open and the garage wasn't quite so empty anymore. With a curse I quickly ducked into the backs of one of the trucks, quickly closing the doors behind me in order not to be seen.
I had to wait with baited breath for the hurried shuffling of feet from the SHIELD personnel to disappear so that I could get out again, except that never came. Instead, the truck I was sitting in began to vibrate.
My eyes widened.
Oh woooow. Oh wow this could not be happening. Except that it was. It very, very much was.
My hiding place rolled forward and I was reluctantly being taken along for the ride.
Escape plans flitted in and out of my head like a maladjusted butterfly, but in the end even I didn't want to risk jumping out of a moving car so I stayed where I was. By the time the car finally came to a stop I'd fallen asleep, and was actually jerked awake by the motion.
And then truck doors were being shoved open, and dazzling sunlight came spilling in. I had to wince, the sudden change in brightness level wreaking havoc on my enhanced eyesight. There was a shout, and when my eyes finally adjusted I was staring down the barrel of five different guns.
The people wielding them didn't look happy.
I grinned nervously, "Um, hi."
I received no replies.
I shifted, my mind working furiously over how to talk out of this one. I wasn't very good at that, the talking thing.
Thankfully, I was saved before I could speak and possibly become a very hole ridden spider with my abysmal negotiating skills. A brown haired, long faced man strode into view, took one look at me, and lifted a hand. That was apparently code for 'he's safe' because a second later, all five guns were lowered.
"Peter Parker." The long faced man stated. Like the secretary, he didn't say it like a question. He took a step back and motioned for me to get out of the truck.
I didn't know the guy. I wasn't sure that I liked that he could recognize me on sight. But whatever, if he could get guns off me, I'm down with letting him in on even the incident when I was in the second grade with the geese. I moved, "Yeah, that's me. Sorry about being here. That was kind of… a mistake."
"Evidently," the SHIELD personnel said dryly. Nevertheless he gave me a nod, "Agent Coulson. Care to explain your mistake for us, because you have us at a loss."
I was now fully out of the empty truck, and my eyes widened at the scene before me. We were at an airport of some kind, and there were at least a dozen more trucks like the one I was in. SHIELD personnel were everywhere, transporting something from the sole airplane on scene to the trucks.
"I uh—" my mind scrambled for an excuse, "I was taking a nap."
Coulson raised a single brow.
I deflated, "…or that was what I was going to say, but I guess it won't cut it?"
The brow only rose further.
I exhaled.
"To be fair I was taking a nap," I blurted, "although that happened after I got on the truck. I swear I didn't know you were planning to leave, otherwise I never would have gotten on. I was only hiding from SHIELD officers so I wouldn't get caught, but it seems, in fact, that due to that I'm now caught."
"You would be correct," Coulson said blandly. "And, why exactly did you not wait in Director Fury's office as instructed?"
I shrugged sheepishly, "I got impatient?"
Coulson exhaled with his nostrils, and looked to the sky with a face I recognized as the universal look for 'teenagers'. I should have maybe been disgruntled about the fact that the agent hadn't changed his expression once until this point.
"Barton!" He called pleasantly to his left, his voice somehow carrying over the clamoring of the airport. "Get over here."
I swallowed, desperately hoping that he was not calling over some big muscled interrogator. My fears were not assuaged when a dark eyed, broad shouldered man came into view moments later.
"Yeah Phil?" The man asked agreeably as he stopped before us. He took a look at me, at the other agents, and then grinned, "Oh, a stowaway huh?"
"Yes," Coulson said flatly. "Barton, take him back to HQ. Disciplinary action will be assigned by Director Fury."
The broad shouldered man's face immediately shut down. "You want me to babysit?"
"Agent Barton." Coulson said mildly, yet there was a hint of underlying steel in that voice that bespoke no disagreement.
Barton tensed, seeming to have heard it too, and with a curt nod, took my arm. I had half a mind to shake him off, but with the edgy air that had suddenly been released with the command, I didn't dare try.
"Come on then, kid," he muttered as he proceeded to drag me out of the ring of agents and across the rumbling airport..
"You can uh, let go," I said uncertainly as I nearly stumbled due to the awkward positioning. It was only my enhanced balance that saved my dignity. "I promise I won't run. Nowhere to run to, anyway."
Barton glanced back at me, took a moment to seemingly size me up, and with a grunt, let go. "You should have maybe thought of that before you decided to tag along for this joyride."
I frowned as I pulled my arm back to me and rubbed it to get the blood flowing again. He had a tight grip. It wasn't bruising, but it had been uncomfortable. "I didn't exactly know I'd end up here. I know I didn't want to."
We stopped beside a non-descript black car. Barton rolled his eyes as he took out his keys, "Where did you think you'd end up? Disneyland?"
My eyes flashed as Barton unlocked the vehicle and slid in the driver's side, shutting the door after him. I knew I was at fault, but I hated, hated bullying, and it took nearly all of my self control not to snap back a retort and aggravate the situation. I likewise took the passenger seat and shut the door, glaring sullenly at the man I was stuck with.
He started up the car and within moments, we were rolling away from the secret airport. We drove for a long time without saying anything to each other. I was glad for it at first, but as it wore on I began doubting myself more and more. I'd never done well with awkward silence.
I sighed. Uncle Ben had always taught me to apologize when I'd committed a wrong, even if the other had also done wrong.
"Look," I finally said, my face turned to the window so I didn't have to meet the agent's eyes, "I'm sorry that you have to drive me home. I know that it's probably not what you signed up for when you joined SHIELD. Probably less soccer mom and more kick-ass ninja doing secret things."
I glanced back to the agent, and thought I caught something like amusement flicker across his eyes, but his face remained stoic.
"I really was looking forward to this trip," he said seriously, and then let out a patented sigh. "But I suppose you'll get enough flak from Fury about that."
I winced, "How bad is it going to be?"
Barton only shrugged, "I've never done anything crazy enough to warrant Fury's attention." A grin made its way across his face as he glanced over at me. It made him appear years younger. "I have to say, I've probably broken the rules more than any other trainee in my time, but I've never gotten the director's direct attention. Then again, trying to sneak a peek at Captain America is pretty unprecedented."
I'd been following up until the last sentence. My mouth dropped open, "Captain America?"
Barton's eyes widened, "Shit! You didn't know?"
I'd thought, maybe, that 'Captain America' was a code for something. And not really, you know, Captain America. But Barton's reaction was making me think otherwise. I was panicking and excited all at once. "You found where he crashed? Is his shield still intact? The plane? The hydra weapons?"
Everyone knew the story of Captain America. He'd saved the war with his Howling Commandos and then America when he died driving a plane of highly advance missiles into the arctic. He was who everyone aspired to be.
"Classified," Barton replied in a strained tone of voice. "Shit kid, please don't tell anyone that I even let that much slip out. Phil would kill me. I never thought that you—what were you doing on that truck if you didn't know, then?"
"I wasn't exactly trying to be on that truck," I replied in bemusement. I didn't regret it now though. Captain America. I quickly explained how I'd come to SHIELD to look at some files, got bored while waiting, and ended up here as a result.
Barton let out a low whistle at the end of my explanation, "So you're a civi. And you still got an appointment with Fury. You're not like his nephew or something are you?"
I stared at him incredulously, "Uh, yeah. I just, I dunno, bleached my skin. Thought it was the hip thing to do."
"Hey don't hate," Barton said with a grin. "You could have been adopted. Like, illegally adopted because you came with a meteor shower and Fury didn't know what to do with you except proclaim you're his nephew."
I let out a snort at that, "So I'm Superman?"
"Not that cool," Barton said with a shake of his head. "Really though, why's our director making time for you?"
"Classified," I shot back.
"You cheeky little son of a—"
He didn't get to finish that sentence, because it was at that moment that his car alarm decided to go crazy. Barton's entire body coiled with the sound and he slammed the brakes to his car, stopping us mid-road. I realized then it wasn't a car alarm. It was an alarm, period.
Barton quickly punched in some numbers on the radio, and a moment later a buzzing came through and I realized the dashboard doubled as some kind of high tech walkie talkie. It didn't sound good on the other side. I knew I heard explosions.
"Barton here!" My companion said in a panicked sort of tone, "What's going on? Repeat. What's going on? Answer me."
There was no reply. And then the radio went blank.
"Shit!" Barton's fists tightened so much that he was drawing blood, "Fuck!" He glanced behind us, a helpless look in his eyes that seemed completely at odds with his well toned body, "Look kid, I have to—"
I knew instantly what he wanted. I did some lightning calculations in my head, "We haven't driven that far. From the specs of this car, we might be able to make it back in time to do something."
Barton glanced at me, something akin to gratefulness in his eyes. But then he hesitated, "Phil trusted me to deliver you back to Fury."
I spluttered incredulously. That wasn't seriously a problem? "You can do that afterwards!"
"I can't just drop you off here," Barton muttered under his breath, "dunno how high priority you are, and can't let you escape."
"That's easily solved," I said in annoyance. "Just take me back with you."
"It could be dangerous over there!"
"There's no time for this!" I interrupted, "Your friends are in danger you only have so big of a window of opportunity. We need to go."
Barton gritted his teeth, but the warning of what might happen to his friends decided it for him. He gunned the car again, whipping it in a U-turn before driving back the way we came at full speed.
There was a glimmer of respect in his eyes as he glanced at me, though his tone was hard, "Look, this isn't a video game. You heard the radio. There were bombs and there will be gunfire. You could die."
I inhaled. It wasn't like I didn't know that. I still distinctly remembered the harrying flight from the police department during that terrible night. Dodging bullets was neither fun nor easy. I'd sooner never have to do it again. But…
"I can take care of myself."
"We have no idea what we're driving into," Barton grunted.
"Well there isn't really another choice is there?" I demanded.
Barton closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again the crinkles at the corners were twisted into deep frown lines. "I shouldn't even be driving back. My mission was to deliver you to Fury."
"You want to help your friends," I said in reply. "I get it."
"And I'll put a civilian in the line of fire," Barton replied with a downward curl of his lips. He sighed and reached out with his right hand to fiddle with the pull out in front of my seat. When it opened, I could only stare wide eyed at the cache of weapons within.
My mouth was dry. I didn't know how I felt about unknowingly sitting before enough guns to fund a whole mob the entire time. "That's—"
"Take your pick," Barton said as he moved his hand back to the wheel. "You need to be armed. You had any training with any of those?"
"No!"
"Then take a taser. One of the batons, too. You can't shoot a gun without training. It's not like the movies where anyone can pick it up. If you don't do it right you'll not only not hit your target, but you'll hurt yourself. Recoil and all that. But anyone can use a taser, and a police baton's as good of a defence as any."
I hesitantly picked up the weapons he recommended. Not for the first time, I wished I carried my biocable with me.
Barton then proceeded to give me a lighting fast lesson on how the two worked, and how I should use them to receive maximum output. He grabbed a baton and began showing me with one hand while he drove with the other, which I wasn't sure was safe but didn't have much time to protest between his tests.
"…put your arm at this angle for prime defence. See you can shift into three different forms depending on where your opponent is aiming and block his attacks. Then if you want to attack you—shit!"
Barton was cut off mid sentence as he was forced to quickly swerve to avoid crashing his car into a pile of smothering rubble. The car skidded to a stop as we stared incredulously at what had forced Barton to stop driving. We were still on the road back to the airport, but it became evident that we didn't need to go any further.
Before us were all the SHIELD transports that I'd seen back at the airport. Many were turned over. The few that were not had deflated wheels or smoking engines. It was evident that SHIELD was not attacked at the transport site as we'd initially imagined, but rather during the transportation itself.
"Should have guessed," Barton grunted as he shoved open his side's door with his elbow. I noticed him take a few guns. "I thought the time was a little off, and besides, it's easier to attack during transportation… you, stay in the car."
SHIELD agents were exchanging harrying gunfire with another group dressed all in black. Bombs went off every once in a while. The whole road was a mess. We were at the edges still, safe for the moment.
"I'll help," I replied as I tried to clamp down on the tremors flowing through my body. I helped with petty street crime, and that was months ago. But this… this was war. I had to admit, I was scared out of my wits. My grip tightened around the police baton, "Isn't this why you gave me weapons."
"No, I gave you them to defend yourself with, 'cause you wanted to be here. But you're not going to be there," Barton jerked a nod at the ensuing chaos not two yards away. "This isn't your fight. We're soldiers and we signed up for this. You didn't and you wouldn't even know what you're fighting for. So, stay."
He didn't wait to hear my reply. It was obvious from his anxious expression that he'd wanted to have left ten minutes ago. He dashed towards the others. His comrades.
For a moment I hesitated. Barton was right. I was not SHIELD personnel and for all I knew this was just turf wars or something. Unlike the civilians at the bank, everybody here prepared and even wanted this, maybe. They didn't need me.
And then I saw one of the cars explode and a large piece bowling over Barton and a guy he'd engaged with and I was running towards them before the thought had fully formed in my head. They'd disappeared under the rubble.
I picked my way across the field, somehow managing to avoid being shot or catching the attention of anyone good enough to take down three guys with just their fists. When I made it to Barton I saw that the other guy had managed to get out, leaving only the SHIELD agent stuck beneath what appeared to be half a truck.
Barton was pale and only the upper part of his body was visible. He didn't look good.
"Hang on, hang on," I said shakily, "I'll get you out of there."
"Peter," Barton breathed. Even half buried he still managed to look pissed, "What are you doing here—no nevermind, just get out! Go back to the car! Hell, take the car and drive the heck out of here."
"No I—" I grunted as I bent over and lifted the large chunk of truck bit from Barton. It creaked with the strain and it was with a sigh of relief that I finally heaved the whole thing up and tossed it to the side. "I can't leave you."
"Holy crap," Barton said with wide eyes, "you really are Superman." He moved to get up, only to swear as his leg buckled and he went down again. "Fuck!"
I just managed to catch him, "Maybe we should get back to the car."
His leg was a mangled mess.
"Can't," Barton said grimly. "That guy I was chasing, can't let him get away. He has a disk with data on the supersoldier serum."
I sucked in a startled breath. I instantly understood the implications of what Barton was saying. If a criminal organization was able to replicate the effects of the supersoldier serum… it would be disasterous.
"Why do you—" Why was SHIELD looking into that anyway? It was only looking for trouble. But like I told Barton earlier, this wasn't the time. I exhaled, forcing my frustration out with that breath. "Alright," I said as I set Barton down and turned to the direction the man had gone, "I'll go and retrieve the disk for you."
Barton opened his mouth to protest, but I didn't give him a chance. I was already gone.
Chasing down the bad guy was a lot harder than I remembered. With no modified biocable to give me shortcuts, I found myself moving at a much slower pace than I was used to. Plus, no tricks. But there was enough noise and blinding flash bombs to cover me.
I managed somehow to completely catch the other guy by surprise by leaping on him, electing a startled yelp from him as we both tumbled to the floor. And then there was a lot of grappling as I struggled for the disk, and caught off guard by my sudden appearance, the man actually let go for a split second.
It was all I needed.
I ripped the disk from his fingers, just as he got his wits back again and elbowed me hard in the ribs. It knocked the breath out of me. He moved for another hit but I was already rolling away from him, leaping up and moving into a fighter's stance. I couldn't help but favor my ribs as I did so, my teeth gritted.
He was wearing some kind of armor that made his hits harder, so that they even affected me. I didn't have much more time to think about it before he rushed at me.
The fighting was even for a while because while he had superior training and armor, I had enhanced abilities. We both managed to destroy each other's weapons or at least fling them away far enough that the other couldn't use them, but in the end, on-the-fly style fighting could only get me so far.
My preferred weapon of choice was not available at the moment and I had the cumbersome task of protecting the stupid data disk now that I had it. At the same time, I couldn't very well give it to him and make it his disadvantage, because then he'd just run away with it. When I went in for a punch he grabbed my arm and managed to use my momentum against me.
He threw me forward into one of the trucks. I grunted as I hit the sharp furniture things within, gasping in pain as I slid to the floor and struggled to get up again. My shoulder blades were throbbing. Thankfully I did have a minute, because I was now holding the disk, so the guy couldn't just take off and leave me hanging.
Unfortunately I didn't have a long minute, because the next moment the guy rushed into the truck and came surging at me.
I quickly pushed myself to the left, just barely avoiding a particularly mean looking punch. It actually put a dent in the wall that had been behind me. He shifted to punch again but this time I was ready. I leapt to the ceiling and stuck there, making him lose his balance and stumble.
I didn't waste any time. I flipped over his back in one fluid motion and jammed my shoulder between his. He went careening forward into a computer. Unlike the truck I had arrived in, this one held a lot of state of the art technology. I winced as the computer broke, and hoped that SHIELD wouldn't be too mad at me.
Now would have been an excellent time for a quip, except the man didn't give me a chance as he went with the motion and used his hands as some kind of foundation for a sweeping kick. I leaped again but this time he was ready for me and used his other leg for a high kick which sent me crashing back.
I hit and broke a table. Everything on it collapsed. The man was advancing on me again and my limbs felt bruised and weak. I quickly scrabbled for the leg of the table or something to defend myself with, but he was on me before I had the chance.
With a snarl the man put his weight on me, knocking the breath from my chest. He pinned my arms in a way that even my superior strength couldn't easily get out of. And then he ripped the data disk from my fingers.
"Now," he grinned, showing all teeth. His eyes glittered coldly, "Let's end this."
"No!" I gasped as I twisted, because I couldn't let him get away with this and couldn't die here. I kicked, hoping to find some purchase, but only managed to knock another table near us.
I need to get out of here.
And then a blue cube like object came tumbling from the surface of the table I'd tilted. It hit the floor. Something deep within me shook.
Light exploded from nowhere and everywhere at once, drowning out the shouting and the bombs and the roaring. It was deathly still. It was deafeningly loud. A sea of stars. A land of darkness. My head felt as if it were going to explode.
And then, as suddenly as it had come, it stopped. The world tilted into view again and I was aware once more of the hard floor beneath my limbs and the air within my lungs. I gasped as I shakily raised myself to all fours, trying to draw in as much of it as possible. I was not nothingness. I still had a body. I was still here.
And then I realized that something was off.
The floor I was on was not the dirty pavement of the airport, but a shining gold that reflected intricate designs. And it was too still, too quiet. Not daring to breath, I lifted my eyes from the ground.
White and gold marble lined the cavernous room. A high ceiling of breathtaking design. There was a white haired man in front of me in shining armour and a golden sceptre, eyes narrowed as he gazed upon little Peter Parker. Behind me were rows upon rows of others that I dared not look upon too long. They were all inhumanly still.
Eyepatch, I thought dimly as I gazed wearily at the old man standing before a seat that could only be a throne. This guy had an eyepatch too, just like Fury. I randomly wondered if it was just a thing for the people in charge to only have one eye. It was a wonder they didn't get assassinated though. Depth perception details would have been a pain.
The white haired man raised his staff, and rested the point directly over my trembling heart. His voice was booming and calm all at once, and irrationally, I was afraid. "Why have you come to Asgard, mortal?"
A/n: Okay you will never believe how incredibly hard it was to get this chapter out, but you guys deserved a resolution from that cliffhanger. And now that that's done, you probably won't see an update until Thor: The Dark World comes out. By the way, changing the title to Tangled Web (which still sucks but I can live with), so don't get confused.
p.s. How was Peter able to navigate SHIELD HQ so easily? I'm going with that the HQ that is shown to the public is a front, and the real SHIELD stuff is somewhere else. Peter would never be able to duck the security there without notice, but he stayed in an area where SHIELD didn't have anything really valuable and therefore didn't need to waste their money on iron clad security.
