CHAPTER 11: THE NIGHTS ARE DRAWN OUT LONG
***GWEN***
I look at the image of the big green Hulk throwing Loki around Tony Stark's office ("'Puny god,'" he says, or something similar), then I turn back to Peter. "No. No, I don't remember that name." I look around at everyone else in the room - Tony, Clint, Steve, and Natasha all shake their heads.
"As well you shouldn't," says a deep voice somewhere behind us. The movie pauses, even though the remote control is sitting on top of the projector with nobody touching it. "He was never brought out of this world like the rest of you were."
I turn around, along with everyone else, to see a tall, thin man holding up a red-gloved hand, with one finger extended towards the screen. He's wearing a dark blue suit with a red scarf peeking out from underneath the lapels of his jacket. He looks down on us with piercing, icy blue eyes.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"And why are you dressed like the immortal guy from Forever?" asks Steve. Tony looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "What? I can't watch Forever? My dad loves it, and he got me into it too."
Peter grins at Steve. "I never thought I'd meet anyone else who watched that show."
"I don't know what you kids are talking about, I'm afraid." The man in the suit slides one hand into his jacket and extracts something from an inside pocket. It's a DVD case - I recognize the cover artwork from Body of Proof.
"Well, if you like that show," Peter says, pointing to the DVD in the man's hand, "you'll love this one. Take Body of Proof, turn the ME into an immortal guy, add some flashbacks as far back as the War of 1812, and you'll have Forever."
"Interesting," says the man. He pops open the cabinet under the projector, kneels down, and puts the DVD inside it.
"There you are, Doctor," Coulson says, coming into the room. "Kids, this is Dr. Stephen Strange. He's a neurosurgeon and sorcerer."
"I prefer the term 'metaphysical consultant,'" says Strange. "But I see none of you are surprised by Agent Coulson's revelation about my job?"
"Why would we be?" Peter asks. "We only just found out today that most of us are movie characters. I don't think we can be shocked by anything anymore."
"I'll take up that bet," says Strange. "Twenty dollars says I can shock you right here and now, literally."
"You're on," Peter laughs.
Strange raises his right hand towards Peter, then a bolt of lightning zaps out. Peter, however, jumps out of the way just in time, so the lightning barely brushes his leg. I do, however, notice a small burn mark on his jeans.
Strange, however, either doesn't notice the burn, or decides to consider his bet lost. He then reaches into his jacket again to pull out a wallet and give Peter twenty bucks. I notice as the bill is exchanged that Strange's hand is trembling a bit.
"You're not here to scare the kids, are you, Doctor?" Coulson asks, giving Strange a placid half-smile.
"Hardly," Strange says. "I'm mostly here to leave some lasting impressions. And to make them wonder why one Avenger was left out of this whole mix." He puts one arm around Coulson's shoulder and steers him towards the door. "Now, I know Stark recommends that one shawarma restaurant in New York, but I can do you one better…"
Before Strange leaves the room, he uses his finger to play the movie again. The movie keeps playing, but I don't think I'm the only one not paying much attention anymore. Doctor Strange is exactly what his name implies, and because of that, he's really sticking in my brain much more than Joss Whedon's vision of an apocalyptic alien attack on New York. As is the fact that he obviously knows something about why we're all here, why we've all been supposedly brought down to normal teenager status. I guess that makes sense, though, so we could all be the same age. Is it harder to reverse-age a person than to age them forward, though? After all, if we were to all be adults, it would be a lot easier since Peter and I would have been the only ones who needed to have our ages changed…
Before I know it, the movie's over. Have I really spent this much time thinking about forward vs. reverse aging? Doctor Strange must have gotten even more into my head than I thought. I'm thinking he's the one who's responsible for the de-aging of everyone else, too. The man can make lightning come out of his hands, and can also act as a human remote control. What other sci-fi sorcery is he capable of? As Arctic Monkeys would say, "Do I Wanna Know?"
I look at the others as Coulson comes back in and pops the DVD out of its player. All of them are staring into space, but when Coulson asks if any of them have recovered any memories, they don't talk about anything other than what we've already heard.
"That's okay," Coulson says. "I'm sure before long, the memories will start coming back on their own. For you too, Gwen," he adds, looking at me and making me shrink a bit in my seat. In answer to the Arctic Monkeys question, I really don't wanna know. But I'll probably have to anyway.
We leave the media room and head back to our barracks. It's a bit awkward, hugging all the guys good night. I mean, sure, we all know each other, but not that well. It's not like we've ever been this close before. Peter is the only one I feel totally comfortable embracing - even when he leaves a light, gentle kiss on my lips. I come around to him last for precisely that reason.
While I sit on my bunk bed, I look over at Skye, who's on the bed in the next row over from mine. She and I lock eyes for a moment, then she averts her gaze. I remember how she would always be so affectionate with Peter, so there's an understandable awkwardness between us.
As if sensing my thoughts, Skye clears her throat and says, "Hey, you do know I was only tryin' to get close to Peter 'cause I was playin' a character, right?"
I rub my forehead, trying to keep my eyes open. It's been a long day, and I'm so dog-tired. But I don't think I'll be able to sleep, not with all the new information I've learned today swimming around in my head.
"Sure, I guess," I say, not sure what else to add to that. Then a thought comes into my head. "Um...okay, so our movie versions aren't adults yet, right? So does that mean we weren't de-aged like the others?"
"You and Peter weren't de-aged, as far as we're aware," Skye says. "You're officially eighteen, not sixteen or seventeen or however old you think you are. Peter's nineteen, but only 'cause, well...you never made it to your nineteenth birthday."
"How would you know we're not de-aged?" I ask, my mind once again starting to reel. I'm a whole year older than I thought I was. There's something else you don't hear every day. I'm pretty sure there's a book I've read that has a similar twist involved.
"Trust me, we know," Skye says. "We can tell the difference. It's pretty obvious for Peter, for instance, if you know what you're lookin' for. When he was actually seventeen, he was a couple inches shorter than he is now. Haven't you noticed he's stayed the exact same height for six months? That's how long it's been, roughly, since you got here. And very few seventeen-year-old guys are done growing. At least, so Simmons told me. And Honey. And Wasabi. So many scientists in the house, you know what I'm sayin'?"
"Uh-huh. Right." I pause before coming up with another question. "Wasn't Steve...wasn't he this really skinny kid before he became all buff and superheroic and-"
"Before he was Captain America?" Skye interrupts, sliding off her bunk and stretching her legs. "Yep, he was. But because the whole Howard Stark super-serum Vita-Ray thing is now a part of his body, it stayed with him when he was de-aged. So teenage Cap is still quite the stud." Seeing me look at her all weirded out, she adds with an awkward laugh, "Don't worry. You guys, biologically, are all eighteen or nineteen. Even the ones who used to be full-on adults. I'm not tryin' to be a skeevy Kate Argent-type here."
"Who now?"
"You don't watch Teen Wolf?" Skye whistles under her breath. "Huh. Guess you're more into the Twilight romance versus Teen Wolf action, huh?"
"How'd you know I…?"
"If you look closely in the background of the first Amazing Spider-Man movie, there's copies of the Twilight books on your bookshelf," Skye says. "Which I guess makes sense. Edward likes to stalk Bella, and Peter likes to stalk you."
"Peter, stalk me?" I'm about to roll my eyes in disbelief, but I realize Skye's right. In the second movie, they do show Peter following me from afar, watching me from a really high ledge in his Spider-Man suit.
"Now you get what I mean?"
I look down at the floor, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Well, at least he's not a psycho about it."
"True," Skye says. "But that's how you know I wouldn't actually want to get together with Peter. I don't like stalkers. Even the nice ones creep me out too much."
"But you're a hacker," I point out. "Isn't stalking a huge part of your job description?"
"Actually, it is," Skye says. "But I try to justify it by sayin' it's good work, for the good of humanity. I've actually had experience with bein' stalked by a boy. It wasn't fun, lemme tell you."
"Okay," I say, feeling uncomfortable with this topic. "But back to Captain America. He really stayed all super-strong and shit?"
"Yeah, he did," Skye says. She also sounds pretty enthusiastic about the change of subject. "But I couldn't even begin to explain how. If you really wanna know, I suggest you take it up with Doctor Strange."
"That's actually the next question I was gonna ask," I say. "Thanks for answering it."
Skye winks. "Don't mention it. Seriously, don't. I'm not supposed to know he zapped you guys from this universe." She looks around, as if expecting to be listened in on. "Coulson thinks his talks with the good doctor are all private and classified and shit, but that's another time for me to say, 'Okay, now I gotta do some cyber-stalking and eavesdropping.'" She sits back down on her bunk, then looks up as someone comes into the barracks. It's Go-Go, whose bed is on the other side of the room, far from either of ours. "I also know why the Hulk didn't get brought to San Cas with the rest of you. Apparently, he was told to leave one Avenger behind, and he chose to leave Hulk because the gamma rays in him interfere with his magic or something."
"Who told him to leave one behind?" I ask, my curiosity really piqued.
"That, I don't know, I'm afraid," Skye says, frowning. "I'm still tryin' to find that out."
I lean back against the pillow, when another weird thought pops into my head. "If radiation messes with Doctor Strange's powers, then how come he was able to bring Peter here? I thought he got his powers from a radioactive spider."
"Sort of," Skye says. "It's mildly radioactive, yes, but the key ingredient here is DNA modification. Genetic engineering, you know. And don't worry - Peter's not like Edward. Not all his bodily fluids have been converted into radioactive spider venom or anything. You can safely kiss him. Or have his babies, if you guys ever go there."
I burst out laughing, causing Go-Go to look up briefly before returning her attention to other matters. "Are you serious?"
"I've just been waiting for a chance to go there," Skye laughs, grinning mischievously at me.
I roll my eyes, then look down at my suitcase. "Okay, where's the shower in this place?"
"Feelin' dirty, huh?" Skye jerks her thumb behind herself. "Second door on the right headin' back towards the hangar. It should be free right now - we girls have all got a schedule worked out for who gets to use the shower and when. Honey's usually the last one, and she should be comin' back right about…" Honey enters the barracks. "Now."
"Thanks," I say, grabbing my overnight bag and taking my shower. I go quickly, because Natasha says she wants to go after me. Ten minutes later, I'm back in my bunk, and trying to fall asleep. That doesn't happen for a while, however. Not until the lights go out. According to the clock on my phone, that happens at midnight. It's really only midnight? I feel like it's been days since the science fair fiasco.
Even then, my brain doesn't want to shut off. Not on its own, anyway. It refuses to calm down because of all the new information running around. I feel like it's another whole day before I finally close my eyes for good.
But even that doesn't last very long.
Next thing I know, I'm dreaming about falling through that clock tower. It was horrible enough remembering it earlier today after seeing it in the movie, and the second time around is no improvement. Once again, I'm helplessly falling, focusing my eyes on the sight of Peter as he leaps after me, launching a webline which reaches down to me. It even takes on the shape of a hand as it descends.
And Peter doesn't break my fall in time. The webline reaches my body, but before he can tie it off, I hit the bottom of the tower. There's a very short flash of agony as the back of my skull impacts on the floor - then nothing but blackness.
Nothing but infinite blackness - until a hazy light filters into my eyes.
Then my head explodes again. It feels like there's an army of scorpions sticking their stingers into my brain. I blink, and the light resolves itself into its full brightness. So bright, in fact, that it's blocking the view of the shadowy figures around me.
I don't belong here.
I should be in the dark.
And everyone around me knows it, because of the words I'm saying on an endless loop, like a broken record.
"Please...let me die…"
One figure turns to another and says in a deep voice, "Are you sure this is going to work?"
"Absolutely." This second voice is unnervingly familiar, one I've heard too many times today. "Your magic is the secret ingredient that SHIELD never had. It'll keep her from losing her grip on reality the way so many of their agents did."
The second figure steps out of the shadows. If not for the fact that I can't stop begging to die, I'd gasp in fright. This thing isn't even human. Instead, it's a mechanical man with a rounded, sculptural, gunmetal-colored body, with his eyes and mouth glowing a fiery red.
"We need this one alive, too," says Ultron's voice from that menacing mouth. "She's Spider-Man's anchor, Doctor. Without her, he'll be lost in his new world. Aimless. He'll have no one to remind him of his true purpose."
Ultron gazes somewhere to my left. I stop talking long enough to flick my eyes over in that direction - I can't turn my head. But I can see, out of the corner of my eye, a row of cylindrical blue tanks.
The assault on my head finally stops. Then the surface I'm lying on moves from horizontal to vertical, and swivels so I can face the tanks.
All but the last tank are occupied by people submerged in some kind of fluid. There's no tubes connecting to their mouths or noses, or any other parts of their bodies. Maybe the fluid helps them breathe? Feeds them? Hydrates them? All of the above?
Every single person in the tanks is just floating in there, lifelessly. They're completely naked, except for tight-fitting white briefs. And what look like bikini tops, in the case of the females. Most of them look like they're in their mid-twenties or so, but I can still recognize most them. Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Thor and Loki Odinsson. And, of course, Peter. He's the only one who looks exactly the same.
There are also three girls who aren't with us right now. They all have different hair colors - one strawberry blonde, one brunette, and one with black hair. I recognize the first one right away. She's Ginny Potts, aka "Pepper" Potts. She's a really good friend of Tony's, and rumor has it she's asked him out several times. But nothing's ever come of it - because as far as anyone knows, Tony only has eyes for me.
The other two, however, I don't recognize at all.
And I don't even have enough time to try and figure out who they are, because next thing I know, the lights are coming back on in the barracks, waking me up.
"Good morning," Skye says, stretching and yawning. "You all right, Gwen? You're lookin' a little pale."
"Um...yeah, I'm fine," I lie. "I'm just hungry, is all."
"Then let's get some breakfast," Skye says. She heads for the door, but then stops upon seeing that I'm not following her out just yet. "You comin' or what? You should hurry before Hunter grabs all the good English muffins. Even though they're neither English nor muffins, but whatever."
I look up at the bunk above mine, where Natasha's rustling around, probably trying to grab a few extra winks. I can't look at her right now - I'll only be able to see her floating in a freaky sci-fi horror-movie de-aging tank.
I pull my hoodie on - there's a real chill in the air, and I'm not just talking about the air conditioning. Then I get off my bunk, continuing to not look at Natasha as I follow Skye to the mess hall.
