A/N: Hi! Sorry this chapter has been a beast to write, I ended up with like three potential endings. Ugh. But, here it is.
Also, I would like to ask you guys for requests for dialogue or small scenes with Peter and Loki, or Peter with the Avengers! Please feel free to PM me with any ideas, I'll do what I can. KEEP IN MIND: this story will continue with the plot, and if the idea doesn't fit in, I can't put it in, but I would love to hear from you all!
Enjoy today's chapter (hopefully)!
"They claim he was 'under control'. Are you kidding me? Under control or not, do they have any idea how many people died in that invasion? And now, him and that Thunder God waltz in here and expect us to believe that he's different?" A woman said, frustrated. She looked around her at the grocery check-out line, trying to find someone else that felt the same. Mostly, people in New York didn't care.
"Our children aren't safe as long as he's here," a man finally responded. "My niece was killed that day; it nearly wrecked my sister. I can't let that happen to my kid." He clenched a fist, and his biceps flexed. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep my girl safe. That monster needs to be stopped." The woman handed him a flyer, nodding in sympathy. It read, 'Avengers: Heroes or Criminals?'
Under his breath, he whispered, "Even if I have to kill every superhero in this city to get to him."
xXx
Peter was planning on landing smoothly, but the combination of hunger, cold, and exhaustion made it more of a crash. Fortunately, he crashed onto his mattress, so it didn't hurt too bad. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to release the tension from his aching back and shoulders (at this point, I can't even imagine getting up to brush my teeth). Regardless of the chilly air, the second his eyes were closed, he was asleep.
That night, he dreamed in memories.
It was his first day as an Intern to Iron Man, and Tony wasn't even there yet. FRIDAY informed him that Mr. Stark was in a meeting and would be there shortly, so he was doing homework on the floor.
After a few minutes, Peter jumped to the sound of laughing. He and the robot next to him looked up toward the door at the noise. Embarrassment flooded his system, and he dropped his paintbrush.
"Mr. Stark! I uh-"
"You were teaching Dum-E to paint?" Tony said, amused.
"Well, I- he uh. He just seemed kind of lonely over there, and I needed to finish this art project… a-and I didn't think you would be back for a couple of minutes… so I just… sorry," Peter finished, ears red.
"No, no, it's ok! I enjoyed that. I really did."
Peter finally chuckled along with him, and then they got to work.
Later that night, they were sitting and designing stealth suits for the team, when the older man interrupted, "Hey, kid, what's your take on Nanotech?" He spun around in his chair, tossing something back and forth in his hands.
Peter's eyes lit up. "You mean molecular nanotechnology? As in precisely manipulating atoms and molecules for fabrication of macroscale products?" He blushed and looked down. "Erm, sorry."
"Never apologize for knowing, Pete," Tony said, and tossed a small object at him. Peter caught it with ease and examined it.
"What is this?" As he spoke, a red and gold glove materialized around his fist. It looked exactly like the Iron Man gauntlet, but smaller. It fit him perfectly. "You're telling me," he said in fascination. "That you figured it out? Bottom-up molecular nanotechnology?"
Mr. Stark opened his arms in a "What can I say?" gesture and smirked. "That is what I am telling
you, yes."
Peter's mouth hung open. "Do you know the applications of this? I mean, surface science, organic chemistry, molecular biology, semiconductor physics, energy storage, microfabrication, molecular engineering, to name a few! You… you could save lives," his eyes were alight with wonder. "I mean, more than you already do, of course."
"And that's what I need you for," Tony said, and casually stood. He walked over to Peter and tapped on the metal glove. It dissolved into his hand. "You're a genius, kid. Whether you agree or disagree, it's true. I mean, what can you say, Tony Stark is your idol." He winked. "I want you to help me develop the tech further. Well? You in?"
"Am I- Am I in? Of course! You have no idea how excited-" he stopped again. "Uh, sure. That sounds cool."
Tony laughed. "Alright, then. Let's get to work."
The dream blurred and skipped ahead.
It was his second week as an intern, and Tony was in another meeting. So, Peter was doing what he did last time: homework. A few minutes into it found him pacing back and forth, scrawling in his notebook. He muttered to himself occasionally, trying to understand the complex problems that Mr. Benson had given the class. Peter heard footsteps, but didn't look up.
"What the crap!"
Peter started at his mentor's voice, looking up for trouble. "What? What's wrong?"
His notebook slipped from his hands and fell, hitting Mr. Stark in the face.
The mechanic grabbed it and smiled. "You're on the ceiling, Peter."
xXx
Peter rolled up his blanket and shoved it under the large piece of cardboard. He always hid his stuff before he left in the morning, just in case someone came up here. While it was difficult to hide the mattress and suitcase, he managed to make it nearly invisible.
Once he was satisfied, Peter grabbed his backpack and turned to hop off the roof (It looks cloudy… I hope it doesn't snow today). He was stopped, running smack dab into someone (crap. CRAP! Who's up here? Did they see?). Whoever they were, they were wearing a smooth matte black suit, with green cuff links. Slowly, Peter tilted his head up and met the even stare of Loki, God of Mischief (shoot shoot shoot. Please tell me he didn't see that).
"Oh, uh, sorry, Mr. Loki. I… I didn't see you there," he said cheerily, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart.
"Yes, well, obviously," Loki sniffed and stepped back. He gazed around the small rooftop, mild confusion written on his face. "What on Earth are you doing up here?" (calm down, Peter. He didn't see. He would have said something about it if he saw. I think.)
"I-I, uh. I was, um… swinging around last night, and I dropped my backpack on the roof… on the way inside. I was getting it for… school… today," he finished, forcing his hands not to twitch (there's no way he'll buy it! I'm screwed. Imagine when Mr. Stark finds out that Spider-Man, a superhero, is homeless! That's so pathetic… I'll never be part of the team).
"I was under the impression that Midgardians didn't attend school on Saturday," Loki's bright green eyes were suspicious and questioning.
"Oh, not normally. But, I had an extra Decathlon practice today." This part was true. It felt kind of good to not lie about his day for once. "My girlfriend MJ is the captain, and she would kill me if I was late."
He seemed to accept that. "Ah, yes. You should be going, then."
"Wait, what did you need?"
Loki rolled his eyes (he usually does that when he's talking about Mr. Stark). "Stark sent me to give you this. He seems to think I'm some… errand boy." He held out a sleek silver case.
Peter grabbed it gently; he wasn't sure if it was fragile (what would Mr. Stark want me to have?). He knelt on the ground and undid the latches. Loki leaned over his shoulder, curious. They both stood there, frozen, as Peter looked at it.
"Are you… going to open it?" The man asked, eyebrow quirked.
The kid laughed, albeit nervously, and responded, "Yeah… yeah. I just- this feels important."
He took a deep breath and lifted the lid. It was almost infuriating how slowly he did it.
"No. Way."
Peter gaped at the red and blue suit in awe. He reached out and lightly touched the eyes, not daring to breathe (this is a dream. This has to be a dream).
"I-is… Is this… mine?"
A note fluttered to the ground, having previously been tucked under a fold in the smooth fabric.
"'An Upgrade. T.S.,'" Loki read aloud. "An upgrade from what?"
"Well, my suit. After... a few weeks ago, I tried to sew my old one back together. It didn't look great. But now," Peter raised it reverently from the box and held it up in front of him. "This is awesome!"
Loki couldn't help but smile at the kid's unbridled enthusiasm for a suit. He quickly caught himself before Peter noticed, and forced his expression back to normal.
"I suppose it is," he paused. "Awesome."
"Listen, I really have to-" Peter turned to respond, but Loki had disappeared. "He has to teach me that!"
xXx
It was not a good day. Despite having an amazing weekend testing out his new suit, Monday slammed into him with the force of a train. Peter had slept through his alarm, missed his train, and didn't even get the chance to have breakfast at the school. What's worse, he was exhausted from patrol last night, cold from the layer of frost he woke up to, and very, very hungry. Lunch was the only thing he looked forward to that day (well, that and my friends).
"Come on Parker, pick it up, pick it up!" Mr. Ammons clapped his large hands (I guess in my efforts to look normal, I ended up doing worse). He jogged a little faster, not even breaking a sweat. Since the spider, first hour gym class became his easiest period of the day. In fact, it was kind of nice… sort of relaxing (except for when coach yells at us).
"Alright, bring it in!"
The class gathered in front of Mr. Ammons. He crossed his arms in front of him, muscles flexing. "Ok, who can tell me the four kinds of tissue?" Their teacher always ended his class with a discussion about health and the human body. Peter had never had a gym teacher like him.
Mr. Ammons was huge, 6'4" or 6'5", and beefy. Everywhere you could have a muscle, he had one. He also sported big tattoos up and down his arms, depicting images of black and white flowers, dates, and faces. As if that wasn't intimidating enough, the guy had served several years in the Marines before an injury forced him home.
Now he stood, glaring at them and expecting an answer. "Thompson! Four types of tissue, go!"
Flash looked up and threw him an arrogant smirk. "Come on Coach, what is this, biology?"
A few students snickered, but most were too afraid of Mr. Ammons to laugh. The teacher narrowed his piercing blue eyes.
"Don't give me crap. Four types of tissue." His voice was steely.
The teen rolled his eyes. "Whatever man, if I wanted a test I'd-"
"Shut up," Coach interrupted. "Parker? Would you like to save him the embarrassment?"
Peter looked up from his shoes. "Uh, epithelial, connective, muscular, and nervous, sir," he answered quickly, earning a stink eye from Flash. From beside him, MJ smiled in approval.
"Correct! Consider coming prepared to my class next time, Thompson." He launched into a discussion of tissue, deciding not to pick on any more students today.
Peter had just finished changing into his clothes when Flash shoved him. The locker room was mostly empty now; only a few people were lingering.
"What's with you?" The black-haired teen asked angrily.
"It's not my fault I pay attention," Peter responded (I am not in the mood to deal with this right now). Some of the other guys chuckled, but most of them ignored the pair. This was part of the norm.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Peter said, walking away. He had other classes to get to today, and this would only delay him. Also, MJ was waiting outside the door so they could walk to Math together. He smiled thinking about it.
"Don't turn away from me, Parker," Flash said from behind him, and Peter felt himself being pushed forward. He stumbled a little, but tried to ignore it. This pretty much happened every day. "You're a coward." The other boy added under his breath, "Apple doesn't fall far…"
These were the times he wished he didn't have heightened senses.
Peter's entire body stilled. He turned slowly, fingers twitching. Fire burned in his stomach. "What did you just say?"
Flash sneered, delighted to get a reaction. "I said, apple doesn't fall far." His voice was nasty, filling the room.
It all transpired at once. Suddenly, Peter's hands were grabbing Flash's collar and pinning him against the wall. He dragged him up so that his expensive sneakers were a few inches from the ground.
"You can hit me all you want, Flash," Peter spat, tone low and threatening. "But don't ever insult my parents again. They were braver than you'll ever be." His uncle's words rang through his mind: With great power, comes great responsibility. And with that, as quickly as it had begun, the fire burned out, and he dropped the other teen. "S-sorry," he mumbled, and then left, leaving a stuttering Flash in his wake.
As he stumbled away, Peter had the weird urge to talk to Loki. For some reason, he felt like the God might understand (who am I kidding. He won't want to talk to me). Peter tried to fight the tears that were pricking his eyes; Flash had dug up some unpleasant memories.
I miss you guys. So much.
A/N: Argh. This one was hard to finish. Also, I promise all of this stuff matters to the story! It wasn't just filler (well, kind of)!
REVIEWS:
poohbear123: thanks, haha. I don't think this chapter was as funny, but I'm working on it :D
Ori: Yay! I'm glad!
AmaltheaLuchiaAizen: It appears your foretellings are accurate ;)
Belbelanne: Three cheers for Loki!
wolfimus prime: Thank you so much! I hope I didn't disappoint!
justHereToEnjoyTheStories: Thank you!
orangiethefox: here it is, I hope it didn't suck!
xSapphirexRosesxFanx: We'll get into that more in the coming chapters, but it has to do with Peter's abilities.
See you next time!
-katilange