I now have the same amount of chapters posted that Vitaliciouscreations has within Reintroducing Hope! With her 14 chapters having 62,742 words and my 14 chapters having 65,385 words I thought it was awesome it was such a close word count.

I was really excited to get to my 14th chapter because I feel that this story is just as much mine as it Vitaliciouscreations now. And that just made me feel really happy, so thought I would share. :)

Anyways, sorry for leaving you guys on that horrible cliffhanger, hope you enjoy this chapter! ;)


Chapter 28:

Peter felt his eyes widen as Steve's blue ones found him. The man marched forward his steps determined and steady. Peter pushed himself back hitting his shoulder on a leg of the table as he scurried across the floor. The teenager pulled himself across the ground, his hand getting sliced open by the glass shards that littered the tile, what was left of the expensive vials for experimentation shattered there.

"S-Steve?" Peter stuttered out as he scooted away from the approaching man. Cap didn't answer, choosing instead to shove the table away, it's legs squeaking on the floor, moving the only obstacle keeping the soldier from the teen.

Peter felt his body tense, his heart constricting painfully within his chest as he kicked off the floor, springing to the ceiling. Steve stared at him, his face still blank, but his mouth turned down in a frown. The Captain's movements were so fluid, so fast.

Spidey's spider-sense fired off a moment too late. The super soldier picking up the table before flinging it at the teen. Peter felt himself gasp as he twisted out of the way, but the table still managed to smack into his side. The thick hard metal definitely leaving behind a nasty bruise. Peter fell to the floor as he grabbed at his most likely cracked ribs, groaning out in pain.

The boy wasn't given a moment to think, the second his body hit the floor, a booted foot stomped onto Peter's lower back. The air 'whooshed' from his aching lungs for a third time that day, and Peter groaned to himself. Why did crap like this always happen to him?

The teenager struggled beneath the man's foot, wiggling around like the trapped bug he was. Peter smacked, and kicked at the man's legs, but just like Sam he didn't even react, (well not that Peter could see) he was pinned down on his stomach his nose touching the cold floor.

The Captain leaned down putting his knee on Spidey's upper back, pressing all his weight onto the teen's body pinned beneath his. Peter couldn't breathe, couldn't get any of that precious air into his pleading lungs. Spidey could barely move under the man, even as he tried to thrash about. His ribs protesting the movement.

Peter's lungs began to burn inside of him. He hadn't gotten a chance to suck in any air after it was kicked from his already abused lungs. And it left his body feeling weak and sore.

The boy's spidey-sense screamed shrill and high in his skull, adrenaline pumping through his body as he caught a glimpse of a needle held in the blonde's hand. Peter didn't think about what he was doing, he just acted. Grabbing the man's leg, using his sticky fingers so he wouldn't lose his grip, and tossing the super soldier to the other side of the room.

Steve slammed into the wall a moment later, a loud thud coming from the impacted. But still, his face remained blank. Peter sprung himself back up to the ceiling, panting, and sucking in all the air he had lost. His vision still bombarded with black dots.

"What," Peter panted after a moment. "is with you guys, a-and trying to stab me with n-needles?" He asked.

Peter could feel that cold fear spreading throughout his body again. It had faded away a bit when Jarvis had talked to him, settling down like a weight in the teen's stomach. It had helped when the AI had told Peter the bits and pieces he knew of their situation. It hadn't made things better, but information always made Peter feel more in control. Now, however, now in their destroyed lab, with Captain freaking America staring him down and trying to inject an unknown substance into him, Peter had no control, none, zip, nada.

And it made him feel on edge, and helpless.

"As if I didn't already need a bunch of therapy. I mean yeesh, cut an arachnid a break here, man." Peter told the blond, his voice was horse, his throat a bit strained. But he blamed it on the fact that he had the air beaten from his lungs far too many times today.

Peter started to make his retreat, slowly crawling his way backward as he kept his eyes on the man below. He knew he couldn't win a fight against Steve. Least of all without his web-shooters. His best chance was to get away, and hopefully, find help.

So basically what Peter had been trying to do before a crazy star-spangled-solider had attacked him.

Steve turned his head slowly as if seeing something. Before he leaned down and reached within some debris. Peter was only about ten feet from the door now, he could make it. He had to make it. His breathing was more under control now, the black dots no longer swimming before his eyes.

The Captain pulled something out from under a shelf, and Peter felt his heart stutter.

His shield…

The shield…

That is probably what the man had come in here for in the first place, Peter realized. It made since no one knew that Spidey was down here. Cap must have lost it in the fight with Iron Man, and now that he either finished Tony or lost him, he had come back to retrieve his favorite weapon.

Peter's breath came out in a shaky exhale before his spider-sense made him drop to the floor in a quick move. The red, silver, and blue weapon bounced from where the teen had just been clinging, before spinning its way back to its rightful owner.

Peter felt his eyes widen before he rushed for the door. Alright, this might seem like a wimpy thing to do, to just leave, to just run away. But ohmygod Steve had almost taken Peter down without his shield, he was sure to do so with it!

Spidey jumped over a table, his socked feet skidding across the messy floor as he sprinted for escape. Peter ducked as the weapon came flying over his head, the wind from it rustling his brown hair. But a moment later the shield bounced off the far wall and came barreling back at the teen. The metal disk slammed into Peter's stomach, making him drop to his hands and knees.

A large hand grabbed a hand full of the boy's hair, twisting Peter around a moment later, the super soldier slamming the brunette's body on the tiled floor. Peter's head 'thunked' against the ground, a headache blooming. The man's right hand came up to wrap around Peter's neck, and Spidey kicked out in a panic, his foot connecting with Steve's shin. But the man didn't seem to notice.

The warm, large, gloved hand squeezed the teen's neck. Making him wheeze and splutter as his head filled with pressure. Peter kicked out again, this time getting Steve in the knee, the man pressed all his body weight onto Peter then, pinning his legs down, and stepping on one of Peter's hands with his booted foot, trapping it there.

Peter grabbed and pulled at the hand around his throat with his own shaking one, his lungs shuddering inside of him as the blood 'whooshed' in his ears. Steve's blue eyes stared at Peter's reddening face, his other hand reaching for the needle. Peter felt a mixture of fear and panic race through his body and renewed his struggles. Wiggling and withering under the veteran, but it made no difference.

The needle came forward, the reddish tint of it more vibrant in the florescent lights of the lab. Peter's chest was burning with the need to breathe, his head pounding with the desperation of it.

Steve brought the needle down aiming for Peter's shoulder. But Spidey grabbed the older man's arm, holding it in place, the needle tip far too close to the teen's skin. The black dots were back, making it hard to see, but Peter fought them, trying to stay awake as he held off Steve.

The man's eye twitched the only movement Peter had seen on his face during this whole fight. Before he tried shoving the needle forward. Peter twisted Steve's arm the wrong way, making the man drop the needle to the floor. Spidey swiped it up with clumsy fingers before throwing it to the other side of the room. The vile of red hitting the far wall and shattering.

Steve's face twitched again before his lips turned down into a deep frown, Peter didn't have a moment to think about that little detail before the man pinning him down lashed out. The Captain's fist collided with the teen's collar bone, a sickening 'crack' coming from it. Peter let out a silent scream, the hand still choking the air from him not allowing any sound out.

Steve's fist connected with Peter's jaw next, the action making stars' bloom and mix with the darkness covering the teen's eyes. Spidey punched Steve in the face with his free hand, causing the man to lose some of his balance. Peter bucked his hips up, before kicking the man in the stomach and knocking the blond to the floor.

Peter sucked in a shaking, wheezing, breath, his vision a blurry mess. His spider-sense still screaming. His lungs a burning inferno, his chest agony. The teen pulled himself up on weak limbs before running to the door, almost falling down in the process he was so dizzy.

He could hear Steve running after him, booted feet crunching on broken glass. But Peter didn't care, he just needed to get away. Spidey swung the door open before slamming it shut and running down a flight of stairs. Breathing was hard, an invisible hand still wrapped around his throat, the ghosted fingers of Steve still holding tightly. But Peter ignored it, for now, running as fast as he could before jumping up and prying open an air vent.

The teen pulled it shut a moment later, pressing a shaking hand to his quivering lips as he watched Captain America pass below, his shield strapped to his back as he ran forward. The man stopped under the vent, and Peter forced himself to hold his breath.

The blonde scanned the stairwell for a moment, the silence deafening to Peter's ears, before the man's head turned up, and blue eyes met brown…

Peter gasped as he shuffled away, crawling frantically through the vent. His heart beating rapidly within his chest. The teen's head was spinning.

Steve can't get up here, he can't he can't he can't, Peter chanted to himself. It was far to high up, he wouldn't be able to jump that far, there was no way. And he was way to broad, he wouldn't fit in here either, he'd get stuck. He couldn't he wouldn't he shouldn't!

A smashing sound rang in Spidey's ears a moment before the red, gray, and blue of America's favorite hero's famous weapon broke through the drywall and buried itself into the vent, not two inches from Peter's face.

The teen gasped as he watched the weapon ripped from the wall, metal squealing against metal shaking through the air, and hurting Peter's already ringing ears. Spidey crawled forward his chest heaving as he tried to race through the cramped air duct.

The shield smashed its way into the vent once again, right behind Peter's foot, but the teen ignored it rushing forward as dread pooled in his stomach. Steve was smart enough to know he wouldn't fit within this small space. He didn't plan on trying to climb in.

But whether the man was just trying to stop the teen, or kill him, Peter didn't know. And he didn't plan on sticking around to find out either.

Spidey could see a fork in the vent up ahead, sighing with relief as he rushed for it. The shield came up again, that awful squealing sound accompanying it each time it broke its way into the wall. This time a shard of broken metal, (maybe a pipe from within the wall) sliced down Peter's leg, making the boy wince as he pulled himself to the corner.

Spidey rolled around a bend, hearing the attack of the shield still going on behind him. Drywall crumbling, metal bending, the shield squealing as it was ripped away again and again. But Peter paid it no mind, just kept moving. After a few more minutes of crawling through the small space, when Spidey could no longer hear the shield breaking through the wall and into the vent, Peter stopped, his arms shaking under him, his head pounding.

He watched as a few drops of crimson fell to the shiny metal of the air duct, mixing in with the dust that lay there. Peter pressed a trembling hand to his throat, it was bleeding again. Steve having reopened the wound that Sam had left-

A bubble of desperate laughter choked Peter, the sound coming out quiet and pinched. But it was loud to the teen's ears being that it was the only noise in the empty air vent.

The Avengers were attacking him. They were hunting him down and trying to inject the teen with some sort of drug. They didn't care about beating or hurting him, possibly even ending the boy's life. And if that wasn't scary, then Peter didn't know what was.

Peter pressed a hand to his lips. Grimacing as he realized he just smeared blood over his mouth. His breathing was still shaky, his lungs rattling with his chest.

He needed help. But who do you call for help when it's the freaking Avengers attacking you? Wait, Peter still wasn't even sure if these people were the real Avengers. And there were still the others Clint, Tony, Bruce. Well maybe, if those look-alike psychos didn't already get to them.

But it was going to be nearly impossible to find them without Jarvis's help, and clearly the AI was offline or still fighting for control, because otherwise, he would have helped Peter when Steve was on top of him, breaking his collar bone, strangling him, blue blank eyes watching as the life was choked out of-

NOT GOING THERE! Keep your head on straight Parker! Peter yelled at himself, he needed to stay composed, needed to keep himself from panicking more than he already was.

Finding the others was a priority, Peter still had no idea what was going on, and he needed help, he couldn't fix this by himself, or keep fighting his friends. Clearly, if he was found again he was going to have trouble fighting back without having to seriously hurt one of the others, and he really didn't want to do that. But what if something else did happen? What if he was found again? Peter couldn't imagine what would happen if Falcon and Captain America teamed up. Yeah, no, not thinking about that.

He was safe for right now in this air-vent, but he couldn't just stay in here. In order to find the others, he would have to be willing to open himself up for an attack, though. And Peter still wasn't sure if that was the best idea. No, not until he knew whether or not these Avengers were the real deal. He couldn't properly defend himself when he was unsure of whom he was hurting.

Maybe he could get ahold of Jarvis, ask the butler of anyone's whereabouts and then go to them through the air ducts. That might work, but that was assuming he could talk to the AI, and that was a big if.

Peter sighed blowing his bangs up as he slumped forward. His collar bone was throbbing, his ribs doing the same. His whole body already feeling tired and abused. But he had to keep going.

The teen crawled forward, trying to be as quiet as possible so not to draw attention to himself. A moment later he found himself crouching above someone's bedroom.

The inside left dark, the lights off, the window left open. The shadows of furniture, a large bed, a dresser, bookshelf, and nightstands, the only thing Peter could make out.

Brown eyes scanned the room for any other living being. But didn't find one. Spidey pushed the vent open, landing with a soft 'thud' on the carpeted floor a moment later. Peter didn't know who's room he was currently occupying. He still hadn't been on everyone's floors as of yet, and definitely not everyone's bedrooms.

But that didn't matter. Peter decided a moment later. Turning his head up to the ceiling as he prepared to address the AI. The teen's lips parted "Jar-" The sound that left Peter's throat abruptly cut off sounding choked. Peter snapped his mouth back shut, biting his lip, hard. He couldn't get the sound out. And it wasn't just because he had been strangled only fifteen minutes ago.

No, Peter knew this feeling. He knew it very intimately. His stomach twisting inside of him, his throat feeling tight, and his breathing becoming more unsteady. Oh, he knew this feeling. He had dealt with it for months upon months.

Peter felt his face scrunch up as he glared into the blackness. He thought he overcame this. He thought that he was passed this. The not talking, the being mute, and alone. He thought that was all over. He had started conversing again. Sure he was still working on it. He still used sign language for a good portion of his conversations, and sometimes he would still have to overcome the queasiness that talking out loud left him with. But it had been getting better, he was feeling more comfortable, and he figured with a little more time he would be back to normal. (Well at least in that one aspect of his life) But apparently his muteness could come back with the snap of some fingers, or y'know the snap of a collar bone.

Peter shuddered at the thought, the sound echoing in his ears. It wasn't the actual injuries that were getting to the spider. No. He had had much worse in the few years he had started fighting crime. It was who had given them to him. Those were memories that were going to take some time to overcome. Y'know if Peter actually survived this, to even come to that point.

You can deal with your anxiety and emotional problems later Parker! Peter gripped at himself, turning away from where he was glaring out the window, to trudge to the door.

Peter cracked the door open slightly, peering out into the darkness of the rooms that lay ahead. He stepped forward a second later, his spider-sense quite for the moment. The living room was anything but crowded. Nothing like Sam's empty floor, though. It looked lived in and put together. But everything was put away, clean, and in its place. Peter was guessing either Natasha or Bruce's floor.

The teen wasn't sure of what to do. He clearly couldn't call for Jarvis. And he had no idea where anyone was. But he seriously disliked the idea of searching blindly and without any way of defense. Though the teen knew he had to get moving, come up with a plan. Because Spiderman wouldn't just sit back or cower in the safety of this floor. No matter how much he might want to.

Peter walked to the elevator, finding that he was on the eighty-eighth floor, so yes, Bruce's apartment. Sam's floor was on eight-sixth, so two down. That shouldn't take very long for Peter to get down too.

But what if Steve is still in the stairway looking for him? What if Sam had gone back down to his own floor to search for the teen, or to wait for him? Those options made Peter's stomach twist.

But he needed to get into his room so he could grab his web-shooters. Maybe even his suit if he had time. Those were things he needed if he was going to fight. It was worth the risk the boy decided a moment later.

Peter's ruled out the elevator right away, even if it did work, and Spidey was kind of doubting it. That would be an idiotic move to make. The stairs would be pretty fast, but the teen wasn't sure he was ready to face Steve quite yet. The teen turned his head staring at the window, watching the rain fall. He could climb down he realized. But if Falcon attacked him out there again, Peter wasn't sure he could fight him off without his webs.

So that left the arachnid with the air-vents once again. No one would catch him in there, well he at least hoped not. The only problem was that Peter didn't really know his way around the whole Tower on foot, let alone in an air-vent. So that might be wasting some valuable time.

Peter bit his lip in thought, rubbing at his ribs as they 'panged' with hurt. No, it didn't matter if he wasted a few extra minutes. He needed his webs, and he wasn't sure if he would even make it to them if he went another way.

Peter went back into the bedroom, hopping back up into the cold dusty vent and started to head in what he hoped, was the right direction…

It took Spidey a bit longer than he would have liked traveling by vent. But he eventually made it into his and Sam's floor. Peter listened for a few seconds waiting to hear a sound or for his spider-sense to warn him. But when nothing happened he popped open the vent and landed in a crouch on the couch. Their living room was just as he had left it, a mess. The glass still laying on the floor, blood smeared across the ceiling, and the large window letting in the cold air of the night.

Peter pried his eyes away, feeling his stomach turn within him. The teen kept as quiet as he could, soundlessly making his way to his bedroom, and toeing open the door. He raised an eyebrow as he saw that it had been left ajar he hadn't remembered doing so.

The teen couldn't help the gasp he let out as he stepped inside. His room was destroyed. And not in the way you might think, like most teenager's rooms were. Peter usually kept his room immaculate. Don't get Peter wrong, his room would sometimes end up a pigsty when he was still living with Aunt May.

She had come in many times her brow creased as she looked around the mess, that was his bedroom. Telling the teenager in her sweet, but irritated voice, that he needed to 'pick up after himself.' Peter was anything but organized. Well, at least when it came to his bedroom.

But not this room, Peter had made sure to keep it clean. He appreciated it on a different level now. Not having a room, or a bed for that matter, for so long had made the teen take better care of his new found space. He still felt awed and thankful each time he entered 'his' bedroom. So in effect, the boy had kept it as orderly as he could.

But it was anything but tidy at this very moment.

His bed was overturned, the headboard cracked in half, his computer smoking as it laid in the middle of the floor, his dresser was laying on its side underneath the window. The glass left cracked there, one of his draws half embedded in a wall. Peter bit his lip as he took it all in.

His clothes ransacked and left on the floor, his bookshelf tipped over, leaving papers sprawled on the ground with the clothes. His light left flickering as it desperately held onto its wire. His large beanbag was ripped open, it's innards left spilling onto the floor. His pictures left broken, and crinkled, his photo album ripped apart, his camera smashed looking stepped on. Spidey swallowed hard. It was okay, he didn't have any of these things a month ago, and he wasn't allowed to be upset that he no-longer had them now. It was fine, Tony had gotten him to many gifts anyways. Stuff like this happened, he knew stuff like this happened, things get taken away, things can be destroyed. It was nothing to be upset over. Things, objects, they were nothing to be mad or sad over. No, they didn't matter.

That's what Peter told himself as he marched forward stepping over his possessions, as he determinedly set forward, in a search for his web-shooters. His jaw was clenched in a way to hold in his emotions, his movements stiff and robotic as he tried to keep his eyes from glancing about the room. It was only after five minutes of Spidey's digging through his belongings that the Tower let out a strange noise.

Something on the upper floors exploding or setting off, as the rest of the Tower shook with the abrupt sound. Peter's head snapped up, his spider-sense a low hum, as he heard the high pitched screech. Peter slapped his palms over his ears as the sound increased, grimacing at the scratched chalkboard like sound, that was filling the air. The teen's brown eyes watched as his bedroom window exploded, the glass seeming to turn into powder as it burst, and rain down on the street below. Peter's head snapped backward seeing the same thing occur to the remaining windows in the Livingroom.

The sound stopped as suddenly as it had started. Leaving Spidey's head spinning as he lowered his hands from his head. A moment later the hum of the Tower, went off, the air no longer blowing from the vent overhead, the silence catching Peter off guard. But the teen didn't have a moment to process before the lights flickered off.

Leaving him in darkness.


Thanks so much for reading! I hope you guys liked this week's chapter.

Sorry it was a little late today, I was in the middle of finishing another Spidey fic, and I was writing it like a mad woman and I just finished it, it's called 'What Has Been Seen, Cannot Be Undone'. (You guys would like it, you should go check it out)

So anyways, thank you to all my readers and reviewers, please tell me what you think! See you in a few days! Fernandidilly-yo out! ;)