This next chapter definitely took longer to write than the previous ones! What do you guys think about possibly adding Deadpool into the story? Warnings: mild language and violence.
Spiderman was brought into a containment room specifically designed to withhold the strength of Hulk. It was meticulously built with a single door for entering and exiting. The Tony decided it would be best for the vigilante to use the room previously designated as Bruce's training during his Hulk sessions. In a previous time, they would probably have put Loki, the God of Mischief in the same holding room. Unfortunately, Thor was currently in Asgard taking care of royal duties and Loki was banished from Earth after his last stunt of attempted world domination.
The team knew from afar Spiderman was able to stick to multiple kinds of surfaces, use strength far greater than that of an average human being, somehow produce web from his wrists, and endorse an incredible amount of flexibility. Bruce was very curious about Spiderman's abilities and hoped to work with him in the future if he so desired. Of course, he would never wish to force the vigilante to do anything he didn't want. He wasn't Hydra. Bruce shuddered at the thought of the rumors he heard about the organization from Steve.
Hydra was slowly coming onto the Avenger's radar as it started to fester in suspicious activities, again. The organization was worse than a cockroach, no matter how many times it was killed or discombobulated, more scientists would eventually crawl up from the gutter. Rumors of an underground lab circulated around the mutants living in New York. Spiderman probably had no idea what kind of twisted people lay beneath the sewers of the buzzing city.
Bruce and Steve met up with Clint and Natasha who waited at the entrance after moving the unconscious Spiderman into the room. Steve watched Tony land in his suit on the patio and casually step out. However, it was not lost on him the enraged expression held in his features.
Catching Tony's eye in his decent, Steve threw him questioning look. "Someone decided to ruin my suit," flashing his eyes, "now I'll have to deal with it manually."
SHIELD had a fairly lengthy list of questions for Spiderman, Steve had hoped to get them answered as quickly as possible to avoid any further headache for either party involved. They would start with simple questions tonight and then proceed with the more complicated questions tomorrow after a more throughout debriefing.
Inside the room, Peter could distantly hear Stark's nasally voice complaining about something through the door. Eyeing the door from his place on the floor, Peter looked for a possible escape. He started to realize it was electric with no door handles after being unable to see a lock. Whelp, I can't use my lock picking skills. Squeezing his eyes shut he started to catalog his situation.
He'd been fighting the Avengers. He was brought to the Avengers Tower, or at least he assumed. His Spiderman mask was still in place, okay that's a little fishy. Peter briefly wondered if the mask had been taken off while he was incapacitated but shook the idea off as his senses were quiet at the thought. His head hurt like a mother and he could scarcely move his stiff right side. Fortunately, his calf injury slowed to a sluggish bleed. Besides some other minor cuts and colorful array of bruises, he was fine. At least the raw understatement of fine that all people who are certainly not fine claim outwardly. He was kind of fine, mostly. He had to be fine.
The harsh white light in the room did nothing to calm his anxious nerves. Peter felt as if his sensory input was dialed to the max. The netting encasing his supine form felt like unwanted hands, poking, and prodding at pressure points on his body. The light assaulted his eyes, piercing through to the back of his skull and worsening his headache.
Besides the occasional murmur Peter heard beyond the door the silence was deafening, the room is definitely soundproof, he thought. Quiet allowed Peter's mind to wander in the stark white room. What kind of questions did the Avengers want answered? What would happen to Peter if he decided to not answer them? A loud gurgle interrupted his jumbled thoughts, making Peter jolt unexpectedly. His stomach decided to remind him he hadn't eaten since lunch and needed food for his healing abilities to kick in, great, just great.
Peter started to feel his spider senses pulse at the nape of his neck, a soft warning. Shooting a worried glance at the door Peter started to feel panicky. Was there enough air in this room? He wasn't ready for a round two with the Avengers just yet. Come on Peter, think, think. His brain couldn't seem to function enough through the fog to come up with a plan for escape. Peter swallowed thickly as he heard a mechanical sound and voices becoming louder.
Suddenly, in a whir of motion, the metal netting rapidly warped itself back into its original round shape. Now formed into a black ball and landed with a light thump between Peter's thighs.
"Ahh, what the—" Peter yelped in surprise at the unexpected physical movement.
Curling into a sitting position to get a better look at the object, Peter winced at the movement before noticing the electric door open. Without waiting any longer, the team entered the room.
Spiderman immediately made eye contact with Tony Stark in the flesh. As if on instinct, Peter's limbs scrambled back into the farthest corner of the room out of fear. The sounds and smells of repulsors firing at his body flashed before his mind as Peter's breathing quickened.
"Relax Spiderman, SHIELD has few questions for you. Just, don't do anything stupid and we won't have a reason to physically restrain you." Stark warned the flighty figure.
Stark continued to walk up closer to the vigilante, leaving about a meter between them. Natasha, Bruce, Steve, and Clint held back closer to the door, waiting and watching the scene unfold.
"How old are you?" Stark interrogated sans introductions, leading with a blasé attitude.
Although not unkind, he was straight and to the point. There was no beating around the bush. Peter blinked upward to the looming façade, head still throbbing from his recent movement. Iron Man was way too close to his personal space, again. Memories of repulsors flashed into his mind as he made eye contact with Stark.
"What day is it?" Peter asked, confused from the trauma and physical strain of the past few hours. Huh, were his eyes always so out-of-focus? Peter slowly blinked to clear his blurred vision to no avail. At least my mask is still on, he though bewilderedly.
"June 1st Spiderman," Tony shot off irately in clipped words. He hated when people questioned his questions more questions.
Peter dolefully smiled down at his gloved hands. "It's my birthday," he stated dejectedly before returning a doe-like gaze at Tony Stark who just continued to stare at Peter in confusion. Silence filled the air with a heavy and charged static-like energy.
Alarmed at the personal information he just revealed, Peter flicked his gaze to the rest of the group like deer in headlights as fear bubbled out of his realization. Did he just give away his identity? No, they couldn't possibly piece together who he was from just his birthdate right?
"I'm not going to ask you again, how old are you Spiderman?" Tony seethed through his teeth. Jeez, this is like pulling teeth, Stark thought angrily.
Tony scowled at the recoiling figure who scarcely sounded old enough to drive a car. A whisper breathed into the eerie silence of the room. Tony had to replay it in his head to make sure he heard it correctly.
"I'm 18," Peter softly spoke with eyes cast downwards, not trusting his voice to speak any louder.
Was he ashamed of his age? No, certainly not. Yet, the unnerving gazes of five Avengers burned holes straight through his colorfully torn up Spiderman suit. As multiple sounds of surprise echoed from the semi-circle of Avengers, their murmurs lead him to stress even more at the rapidly unfolding situation.
Peter's eyes shifted to spare another quick glance at the Avengers standing on opposite sides of the room. Disappointment clearly plastered on their faces.
Why did they care so much about his age? What would they do to him if they discovered his real identity? Would he go to jail for webbing up criminals? Would they subject him to experimental testing for SHIELD to learn more about his powers? Peter briefly closed his eyes at the disturbing thought and silently prayed he would never find himself in such a situation.
Stark sucked in a sharp inhale, "Dammit Spidey."
Hawkeye furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the number. Natasha momentarily softened her gaze towards Spiderman before schooling her expression back to its regular poker-face.
Peter felt a soft, embarrassed blush creep onto his cheeks as he tried to keep exhausted tears from making an appearance, not that they could see his facial expressions. He was royally screwed. Peter felt like a child whose hand was caught in a cookie jar.
Captain America, still with his full gear on, had a look between guilty concern and shock for the spaced-out vigilante. Bruce winced at the sight before him just now taking in the physical injuries caused by his teammates. Spiderman looked more like a kicked puppy than a cornered vigilante.
Peter was officially an adult. Officially able to be charged as an adult. Great day to get caught Parker, just blame it on rotten Parker luck. He allowed his head to loll down to his chest. God he was tired, and in his whole body throbbed in pain. Also, why was it so cold in the room?
Peter tried to even out his nervous breaths, hoping to find any ounce of bravery he had left in his battered body. Anxiety coursed through his veins, leaving his muscles taut like a string as he waited for anger or shouting, anything.
Steve sighed regrettably "Oh bud," before glancing up at Tony who was still standing with his mouth agape.
Steve tore his gaze between Peter's rigid form pressed into the corner of the room and the shocked stares plastered on the rest of the Avenger's faces. Without any further conversation, Stark impassively strode out of the room. All the Avengers begrudgingly followed suit, leaving a confused Spiderman to process their actions.
"How the hell did we not get a confirmed age on this guy beforehand? JARVIS what was the previously calculated age range for Spiderman," Stark demanded angrily from his AI.
"We averaged 25-30 years of age, sir." JARVIS informed, chipperly oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
"Shit!" Tony shouted in frustration as he slammed his hand against the wall.
"Yeah," Steve replied in a soft voice, shaking his head. "How did we get it so wrong?" A guilty look plagued his eyes.
The American hero paced around the room and ran a hand through his hair in a loss for words. They attacked a minor. Where were his parents? Did they know he was Spiderman? Steve paced with apprehension of the situation they found themselves in. SHIELD would be thrilled.
"Oh my God, I shot a kid." Clint rested his hands on his knees, looking green with disgust. Clint felt like puking at the thought of hurting a child, he himself had kids and would never fathom such a thing.
"There was nothing in his file. No information to suggest otherwise." Natasha offered quietly. She stood silently, processing the new information about Spiderman.
Bruce placed a gentle hand on Clint's shoulder, "You didn't know Clint."
His eyes looked up at each of their distressed faces. "None of us could have guessed he was just a kid," the scientist said softly, taking another glimpse at the room Spiderman was being held in.
Steve cleared his throat, "Spiderman looked pretty roughed up in there, we should make sure he doesn't need urgent medical attention." He saw the team nod in agreement as they frequently stopped by the medical wing after missions.
"I'll go," Bruce interrupted, "I have the most medical expertise out of all of us. Plus, I haven't caused any of his injuries," he added sullenly. The three Avengers shared remorseful looks across the room as they avoided his eyes.
While attempting to control his alter ego in the past, Bruce had learned a lot about pain management and controlling his emotions in dangerous situations. Although he never actually went to medical school for a medical doctorate degree, he had significant medical training with the Avengers. The basics of suturing, wound care, and emergency field procedures were common occurrences after risky missions. Bruce couldn't count the numerous times he had fished out bullets and removed chunks of debris from his teammates.
Steve gave Bruce a brisk nod, "I'll wait outside in case you need anything."
As the team leader, Steve decided it was best for the rest of the Avengers to debrief and take a breather from the Spiderman situation. The team agreed it would be best to brainstorm what to do with him and tackle it in the morning after both sides had some time to recollect themselves.
Now all Steve had to do was figure out how to tell Nick Fury that an 18-year-old teenager outsmarted three of the world's finest heroes for weeks on end before being forcefully brought in against his will. That's going to be a fun phone call, Steve mused. He was flustered at the mess of the situation; it was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Steve silently watched Bruce gather up different pieces of medical equipment and gave the scientist a quick nod before he entered the room.