Chapter 20

This was another tricky chapter, but there's only one more after this. I hope this ending is satisfying so far!

Peter blinked his eyes open, which was more challenging than it should have been. Every muscle in his body felt weak and sore, even his eyelids. But he got them open, allowing himself to see he was in what appeared to be a hospital bed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he saw the heart monitor at his bedside and gradually became aware of the slow and steady beeping it emitted. An IV stand stood beside it.

Part of Peter was disappointed that he seemed to have been unconscious for the remainder of the mission. Another part was relieved to realize that, despite how weak he was, his arm and sides were no longer throbbing. He looked down at his arm. It was wrapped very thoroughly in bandages.

He knew this couldn't really be a normal hospital room. However, there were still two possibilities for his location: Shield's med bay, or one of Octavius's many, many labs.

Was it wrong that Peter almost didn't care where he was so long as his arm remained covered and painless?

But he did keep looking around as his vision became steadily clearer, and soon enough he spotted a computer in the corner with a Shield logo on it. This knowledge did, in fact, relieve Peter further for a variety of reasons. Perhaps most importantly, it meant that he was in the central hubbub of heroes, so he wouldn't have to wait long to hear how everyone was doing.

The more Peter wondered about his friends and family, the faster the heart monitor beeped. He wracked his brains to remember the last few moments before he activated the transmitter.

The transmitter . . . That reminded Peter of his symbiote. From the silence in his head, he knew it was gone. He hadn't really thought about it before, but . . . he had essentially sentenced it and all the rest of the symbiotes in the entire city to death. That wouldn't have been terribly upsetting considering how most of those symbiotes had been trying to kill him. Yet his symbiote had been very helpful. It was likely only because of its help that Peter had stayed conscious long enough to plug in the transmitter.

He hadn't even named his symbiote.

Octavius had been right. It wasn't always possible to save everyone.

Spending a minute in silence for the lost symbiotes, Peter soon found his grief was overshadowed by his worry for his friends. Where were they? Doctor Connors was usually quick to know when his patients were awake, or else his team would be waiting nearby. Where was everyone?

But that was being unfair, wasn't it? Peter didn't know what else had happened in the past few . . . hours (or at least he hoped it had only been hours). Stormin' Norman was all about power. If he had had an army at the Empire State Building, he could have also sent an army to attack Shield. That would even explain why there hadn't been more heroes there at the building. And now that he thought about it, Peter vaguely remembered Ava mentioning that as the reason for their lack of backup. Which meant there could be far more people wounded than Peter had originally assumed. Doctor Connors and the rest of the medics could be swamped for all he knew.

And yet . . .

Peter looked around again, his gaze falling on the other bed in the room. The empty bed.

If others had gotten hurt, Shield would have used every available bed. So why was this one empty?

Peter returned to recalling every detail from the battle, particularly those regarding his team. Luke had been with him. Norman had also gotten to the top floor by then. So Luke had probably been one of the first to deal with the Goblin after the transmitter destroyed his symbiote. As resilient as Power Man was, Peter hoped he hadn't been hurt.

Where had the rest of the team been? Ava and Adrian had been contaminated by symbiotes, so they would have also been rendered unconscious. But Peter didn't know where they might have been when the transmitter freed them. He realized he should have asked Danny to lure them to a safe area. But, then again, he hadn't really had the time to wait for anyone to get to safety.

And what about Danny? He had never said anything about his own location. Peter could only hope that was because he had been safe. Knowing Danny, he would have gone to help Ava and Adrian, or maybe the Hulk. Norman had reportedly knocked the Hulk out, but the (not always) gentle green giant was hard to keep down for long. With any luck, Hulk would have woken up soon enough to help in the ensuing fight with the Goblin.

But there was one teammate missing. Sam. Where had Sam been in all of that? Peter hadn't seen him, and no one had so much as mentioned his name. And, being the only team member who flew, wouldn't he have been their biggest asset? Luke would have certainly asked him to give them a lift to the top floor. Now that Peter thought about it, he didn't even remember seeing Sam before they got to the Empire State Building, not that those memories were all too clear. So what could have happened to Sam? Peter wished he had noticed his absence prior, back when there had been people around to ask.

His gaze returned to the empty bed.

Where was everyone?

The solitude was beginning to get on Peter's nerves, if only because he was dying to know what had happened. Considering the team's prior experiences with the Goblin, someone was bound to be hurt. And what about the rest of the city? What about May? Had the symbiote army gotten as far as Queens? Could she have been unlucky enough to be in the city at the time of the attack? And what about Octavius? Not only could he have been harmed by Norman, but Shield would have undoubtedly tried to capture him the moment the main threat was over. And—

Peter paused. Why was he worried that Octavius might have been locked up? There was something off there. What had Octavius taught him? To notice confusion, right. Peter noticed he was confused. He really didn't want Octavius to be incarcerated. But then, why did he also feel like that was wrong, like Octavius deserved to be imprisoned? At this point, he knew that Octavius had never really meant to become Doctor Octopus.

Once more, Peter looked at the empty bed. There was something about that. Something he was missing. He had determined that the odds were at least one of his teammates might also be injured (no matter how he hoped they weren't). So why was he here alone? Was Shield keeping him isolated on purpose? What made him different from—?

In an instant, Peter broke through his subconsciously imposed barrier of ignorance, reaching the hard truth (just like Octavius had taught him).

Shield didn't trust him. They feared Octavius had succeeded in changing him.

And Peter wasn't sure if they were right.

He squeezed the fist of his good arm. The bandages prevented the motion in his other arm.

For several minutes he had blissfully forgotten that one fact. He had forgotten that he hadn't just lost days at the hands of Octavius. He seemed to have lost his identity too.

Peter hadn't had time to think about that too deeply during the chaos, but now it looked like he had plenty of time. He could finally weigh all the facts: was he still Peter Parker? He remembered how uncertain he had been when Adrian had asked the same question, when he had lied and said that of course he was still Peter.

He now had a horrible feeling that he wasn't.

For one, he had been calling Goblin by his real name a lot. He had even called him Norman several times in the past few minutes. And he had willingly, gratefully used some things Octavius had taught him. And he had restrained Adrian by force. And—Peter's blood went cold all over again—he had almost called Octavius his father.

The beeping of the heart monitor was faster than ever.

How could he have even thought of that? Adrian had said he had only been with Octavius for five days. That wasn't nearly long enough to form a real bond, which meant that the effects of Octavius's mind control were lasting. It meant that Octavius had really gotten into his head, had really changed him. That was the only way such a horrible thought could pop into his head.

(If Peter had never called Uncle Ben his father, there was no way Octavius could ever hold that title.)

But then . . . there was no denying it. Adrian was right. Octavius was right. He just wasn't Peter Parker anymore.

And maybe he never had been.

He shut his eyes as other memories came back, memories that hadn't been his until a few days ago. Memories of Oscorp just as he suspected it was. Memories of universities just as he hoped they would be. Memories of high school almost just like his own. Memories of a childhood not quite as he had expected it could be with still living parents . . .

He certainly would never be Peter Parker again.

One further memory came back, this one more assuredly his own. It was of the computer screen in the Empire State Building, the one that had been logged in. How lucky Peter had felt when he had seen it.

If he had really been Peter Parker, the Parker Luck wouldn't have allowed something so fortuitous.

Movement restricted by all the bandages, the IV insert, and his weakened state, he could only shut his eyes tightly as the tears began fall.

"He's crying," the woman with the short bob of white hair said breathlessly. "He's crying! Is that enough reason to let me in yet?"

"It's a development," the dark man with the eyepatch said noncommittally.

May Parker didn't even bother to glare at Nick Fury. She only had eyes for the screen that showed the boy she declared as her nephew, regardless of what everyone else in the room seemed to think at the moment.

They were in a surveillance room in the Shield Helicarrier. Fury hadn't wanted to let anyone in here to view Peter, but had relented after a rather large argument. Then it was only supposed to be him, May, and Dr. Connors, until May began to demand answers that the two men couldn't give. So Adrian and Luke were reluctantly invited. Sam forced his way in on crutches. Only Ava and Danny were absent since both had injuries that were currently being tended to.

The moment they arrived, May began pelting the boys with questions. Strangely enough, Luke and Adrian gave vastly different answers. Adrian was convinced that Peter was just another Octavius now. Luke admitted he had noticed some changes, but argued that he was still mostly Peter.

Was it so wrong that May was siding with what she wanted to hear?

Sam, for his part, remained silent. His still healing injuries contributed to Adrian's argument, but May knew from his silence that he also agreed with Luke.

For a while all of them had been standing around, disagreeing about who Peter was and what they should do with him. The moment Peter woke up, though, everyone's attention focused on the screen. It was at this point that May noticed the camera feed was coming from one of medical rooms in the cell block. One usually reserved for villains. Her heart had cracked.

And now her nephew was crying, and her heart was practically in pieces.

"We should sedate him to run more tests," Fury was saying now. "After that I'll arrange some interviews to determine his motives. We should assign a team of psychologists to analyze all surveillance and—"

"WHY?" May yelled, unable to contain herself anymore. "Why are you letting him suffer alone when I can go in there and get you your answers in minutes?!"

Dr. Connors shifted uneasily. "We're not sure if he may be violent—"

"He's lost a nearly lethal amount of blood! Super strong or not, he can hardly get out of that bed, let alone attack someone!"

"That won't stop him from playing mind games," Fury said.

"So you're not going to listen to his side of the story at all?" May asked, voice breaking.

"We will, but we need to bear in mind that we can't really trust his words."

Words were beginning to fail May. She turned to the young boys for some backup. Adrian had his arms crossed. Luke was still watching the screen. And Sam—

"Where did Sam go?" May looked around the room several times even though it was much too small to allow anyone to hide.

When it became clear that Sam must have left, the atmosphere shifted suddenly to urgency. Fury shouted some orders into his communicator, demanding the hall be locked down. But seconds later on the screen, the door to Peter's room opened and Sam hobbled in on his crutches. The men in the surveillance room began to discuss what should be done. Bolstered by Sam's disregard of authority, May left them to their quibbling. She went to see her nephew.

Sam entered the villain med bay. He had never been in here before. He was surprised by how much it looked like the regular med bay. The only difference was the entrance, which had a few extra layers of security. But that didn't do much when most Shield agents were busy cleaning up. Sam had a good enough standing that the few guards around let him pass without questions.

"Hey, Pete. Looks like we're even now."

Peter looked up at him, blinking the tears out of his eyes. At this point, Sam had seen him cry a few times, but it never got less awkward.

"Sam? Wha—What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, you probably don't remember that. You know back when we snuck into the Hydra base and Octavius first gooped you with symbiote?"

Peter nodded slowly. "Yeah, which was—that was about five or six days ago, right?"

"Right, so I'm almost all healed up now. But it was like a four-way beating between Goblin, Octavius, Taskmaster, and you."

"I'm so sorry," Peter said earnestly. He looked absolutely aghast at the thought. Sam didn't smirk at the camera, but he hoped Fury was seeing this. Maybe it wouldn't change his mind, but it was evidence nonetheless.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine now, and it wasn't really your fault."

"But—"

"Forget about it. That's ancient history. How are you?"

Peter looked down at his sheets. "I don't know."

Of all the things Peter could have said, Sam had to admit that was a curveball. He was used to hearing variations of 'I'm fine' with varying levels of authenticity. But even Sam would be lying if he told Peter that everything would be fine. Judging from what he had heard back in the surveillance room, Fury was extremely suspicious. Truth be told, Sam was also a little suspicious. But he at least had the decency to figure this out for himself.

Right now, the kid in front of him sure was acting like the Peter he knew. For the most part.

"How . . . how is everyone else?"

Yup, definitely the Peter he knew.

"They're all fine. Ava might or might not have a concussion, and Danny sprained his non-iron fist, but aside from that we're all good. Shield was attacked, but there were no major damages. You stopped the symbiotes before they could get past most of the defenses."

Peter nodded. He opened and closed his mouth, obviously hesitant to ask his next question. "And how . . . what happened to Octavius? Did he help?"

Sam was suddenly very curious to see how he would react to the answer. "According to the rest of the team he stuck around long enough to restrain Goblin. He disappeared after that." He paused there, still just a little surprised by what he was about to say next. "Ava and Luke went looking for him. Instead they found a subtle trail to you. It looks like Octavius had gone back to hide you in a safe place. He even put a tourniquet on your arm."

Peter looked down at his arm. A hollow "Oh," was all he said.

"So, what did you and Octavius even do for all that time in his secret lair?" Sam said, changing the subject without really changing the subject.

Peter sniffed. For a second, he looked ready to deflect the question. Then he said, "He taught me pretty much everything he knows."

"Like, science and stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. So you're pretty much at PhD level stuff in less than a week?"

"Well, maybe not PhD level, but—I don't really know." Peter was beginning to look confused by Sam's line of questioning.

"I bet you could probably pass college exams in a snap now."

"I mean, maybe? Wh—why? Does it matter?"

"You of all people should know why I'm interested in a nearly instant method of knowledge transfer."

Peter blinked a few more times. "I was kidnapped and held mentally and physically hostage for five days, and all you care about is trying to weasel your way out of years of school?" He hiccupped, shaking his head wryly. His lips twitched in a way that was almost a smile. "Only you, Bucket Head."

Sam grinned, relieved. "I see you haven't changed a bit."

The tiny sliver of a smile fell from Peter's lips. He hiccupped again. "But—but I di—"

He was interrupted by a commotion outside the door. There were some muffled shouts and a bang. A minute later, Aunt May came rushing through the door, shutting it tightly behind her. She held a laser shield in one arm.

"May?" Peter choked out, the waterworks starting up again.

"Peter!" May exclaimed happily as threw the shield aside. She rushed forward to envelop him in a tight yet gentle hug.

Sam refrained from gagging.

After several minutes, the two finally broke apart. And Peter broke down further.

"I'm s—sorry," he said, sobbing. "I'm so—so sorry!"

The change was so sudden, Sam was caught off guard. He just stared at Peter, unsure of what was going on, not even sure what to say.

"What on earth could you be sorry about?" May asked, apparently just as confused.

Peter looked at her, obviously pained. "I'm not your nephew anymore," he said quietly.

"But—but we've already established that little technicality," May said. "You know I will always consider you my nephew."

Peter shook his head. "He changed me now. Octavius changed me," he continued in that same small voice.

As soon as his initial shock was over, Sam spoke his mind. "What are you talking about? I haven't noticed anything different about you aside from a few missing chunks of skin!"

Sure, it was partially a lie, but it wouldn't be the first time one of them acted strange after a big injury. Having a medley of medicines in your system was bound to throw you off.

Peter's head kept shaking. Back and forth, back and forth. "He got into my head! I—I know things that I didn't know before! I know haven't been like my—my usual self! I—"

May grabbed his head, ceasing his movements. "Peter, heaven knows I'm not being insensitive, but of course he got into your head. That was his whole plan and even he's bound to succeed in something at some point. And maybe I'm not an expert psychologist, but I know my boy. My considerate and anxious little boy. Do you really think that Octavius would be crying over this?"

"Well . . . I guess not . . . but—"

"Do you really think Octavius would be telling us everything you're telling us?"

"Maybe not . . . but—"

"And do you think Octavius would have hugged me like you just did?" She paused thoughtfully. "I didn't hug you too hard, did I?"

"No, not at all!" Peter assured her.

"Then how could you really think you're different?"

Peter bit his lip. "I just . . . I can feel it."

"Well there you go! Case closed!" Sam brushed his hands together. "If you're aware that you're different, then there's got to still be enough old Pete in there to notice the difference. I mean, if he had changed you completely you wouldn't notice anything strange about how you are, right?"

"That's not a bad point, Alexander."

Startled by the unexpected voice, Sam turned on his crutches to find Fury stepping through the door, Connors in tow.

"Did you just agree with my idea?" Sam asked, temporarily distracted.

"I said it wasn't bad," Fury repeated. "But I suppose I can agree to an extent."

May turned to face the Director, placing herself protectively between him and Peter. "Is this enough proof for you yet?"

"From a psychological point of view, it is substantial," Connors admitted, glancing at Fury.

"It's all right if you want to lock me up," Peter offered quietly. "I understand the danger."

"You are not a danger, Peter," May insisted. She never took her eyes off of the Director. "Nick Fury, this is the same teenage boy you promised to help me keep safe. Of all the things I've consented to, I will not allow you to take his future away just because of a few suspicions."

Fury strolled forward slowly. "Relax, Mrs. Parker. I never was planning on keeping him confined indefinitely. I merely want to be certain I'm making the right choice." He peeked over May's shoulder, eye locked on Peter's. "I'll confess Parker does have a unique . . . charm that still seems to be present."

"You all really think so?" Peter asked, sounding surprised. Sam did his best not to roll his eyes.

Fury nodded once. Connors gave Peter a small smile. "You've always left a good impression."

For a second, Sam was afraid the waterworks were going to start again, but Fury interrupted the moment. "If you two don't mind," he said, looking at Sam and May. "I would like to speak to you for a minute. Then I'll have a private discussion with Parker."

Glancing back at Peter, Sam and May agreed. The four of them went into the hall. Luke and Adrian were waiting there. They looked extremely curious, but waited for Fury to speak first.

"Well," Fury said, turning to May. "I don't appreciate you threatening my agents." It was then Sam noticed the two guards nearby rubbing their heads.

"I don't appreciate you threatening my nephew."

Fury's brow twitched in acknowledgement. "I'm not threatening him. Extra precautions never hurt in this line of work."

May folded her arms. "All right then, what's your plan?"

"Dr. Connors has made a suggestion that greatly simplifies it. The X-Men will be back in the States in a few days. Their telekinetic, Grey, is willing to donate her services to assure us of Parker's identity and current intentions. By the time he's recovered from his wounds, we'll be able to determine if we can allow him to return to his life. He'll be back home in a little over a week if you're right. But we'll hold onto him if Grey deems him as a threat."

"That sounds . . . not perfectly fair, but fair enough," May replied dubiously.

"Didn't you notice how much he's changed?" Adrian asked, flabbergasted.

Everyone rounded on him now, but Fury was the one to speak first. "All people change at some point. It's how he's stayed the same that intrigues me. Now," he said, switching to his extra authoritative voice. "The cell blocks need to be checked for damage. Toomes, Cage, you're on Block D. Connors, go back in to check on Parker. Alexander, get back to your room for your past due examination."

The orders were followed, albeit reluctantly, and the four agents named left in their respective directions. Sam found himself tired from all the walking, so he hid around the nearest corner to spy on the two remaining in the hallway.

Once they (thought they) were alone, Fury turned to May silently, expectantly.

"How can you stand there," May began slowly. "Talking about locking Peter away for crimes he hasn't even committed? Crimes he may never commit even if Adrian is right!"

"We don't know what he and Octavius could have been planning for all those days. If they were able to come up with a successful plan to save the city within an hour, imagine what they could have been capable of plotting in five days," Fury replied coolly.

"Touché." May stared up at him. Sam couldn't see her face from here, but he knew she was giving Fury the scary look. "But Octavius obviously hasn't erased Peter's personality or morals. There is no way he can follow in Octavius's path."

"Their paths wouldn't be identical, but we don't know what might trigger a collaboration. They spent a lot of time together. Best case scenario: Parker has a soft spot for Octavius. We both know how . . . big his heart is. Worst case scenario: Stockholm syndrome."

"As if Peter looks like he was suffering from that," May said, voice hard. As she continued, sarcasm became more and more evident in her tone "But don't let me stop you and your 'precautions'. We wouldn't want Peter to head down Octavius's path, now would we? I have no idea what might 'trigger' that, as you say, so obviously it would be best to keep him locked away. And he's a bright boy; maybe he can even continue making new toys for your agents. Yes, that sounds just like the right thing to do, doesn't it? That's what Norman Osborn did with Octavius for all those years."

Silence followed her speech. Sam stared on in awe, waiting to see Fury's response. Not for the first time, he wondered if May would adopt him too. If she was willing to harbor a clone of Otto Octavius under her roof, then she certainly wouldn't mind Sam at all.

"Point taken," Fury relented. "But don't forget that I was given my position based on my realism. Or my pessimism, as others would say."

"What does that have to do with anything?" May asked, taken aback.

"It means I have a reputation to uphold, and Toomes was suspicious. Talking about various doubts doesn't necessarily mean I believe in them."

Sam had to clamp his hand over his mouth so he didn't gasp audibly.

Connors emerged from Peter's room then. "Peter is stable and healing up nicely. I'll administer some sedatives to assist with the healing process after you've had your little chat."

"It won't take too long. Mrs. Parker, I suggest you head home for the night. I'll arrange another visit for you tomorrow." Fury made his way to the door. He turned back to the doctor before he entered. "Oh, and Connors, I need you to do one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Please escort Alexander to his room before he rips out his stitches."

"Yes sir."

Fury's eye caught Sam's, and Sam ducked out of sight, running to his room as fast as his crutches would carry him.