A/N: Howdy, I probably should warn you these next two chapters are going to have a lot more cursing in them than my other chapters. So..yeah..kk bye. Happy Reading!
Sure enough, just as Tony said, Peter kept the dishes in the room with him. The teen heard the admission from the team after Rhodes left the door. Yes, he eventually took the food. His stomach overpowering his mind. That was three days ago.
The Avengers kept supplying him with food, leaving it at the door for him to grab. He had a bathroom and a bed, so all his basic needs were being met. At one point he heard Tony suggest that they let him starve until he came out, but that was quickly vetoed by the rest of the team. Some call it childish and others call it barbaric. Either way, the billionaire's idea was rejected and Peter couldn't help but be glad.
Turning his head, he stared up at the pile of dirty dishes that were stacked on the nightstand. The dried left over food had already started crusting to the dishes, and a smell started to float from the items as well. Every ounce of his being told him to take the dishes to the sink and wash them. The voice of May filled his ears. Peter Parker, you have no job. The least you could do is keep your room clean. There is no reason you should be living in a pigsty.
A smile graced his face as her voice faded away. Tears burned his eyes as he looked down. Furiously swiping at them, he stood. No need to wallow in pity Parker, his brain barked. You've got a mission to work on.
Looking around the room, his eyes fell on his backpack that laid open. Grabbing it, he dumped the contents on the bed and eyed it under a critical inspection. His Spiderman suit laid there innocently, waiting to be used. God knows how many people needed saving and he wasn't there.
Focus, Parker. What's your mission? What's your objectives? His brain asked.
The mission: Find out who A1 is.
"The easiest way is to give them my DNA," he mumbled.
That is a stupid idea. His brain scoffed.
Objective One: Leave the compound.
Now we're getting somewhere.
Objective Two: Return as Spiderman. And show them the folder.
No, you're backpedaling.
Objective Three: Find out more about Vanessa.
Demand answers, his brain agreed.
"Let's focus on objective one," he mumbled to himself. Turning, he stuffed the items back in his bag. Making sure he had everything, he turned to the dishes and one by one, he took them to the sink in the connecting bathroom and allowed the water from the sink to wash over them, wiping away any trace of DNA. After piling the dishes high in the sink, he dropped low, and by the grace of whoever was above, he found his target.
The bleach bottle stared at him from under the sink in all its glory. Grabbing the item, he dumped the contents over the dishes, soaking them. The smell assaulted his nose making him slightly dizzy. Gripping the counter, he braced himself before stumbling out into the room. Inhaling deeply, he looked to the ceiling. As if luck were on his side, his eyes immediately found a vent that sat alone. Eyeing his web shooters that sat abandoned on the nightstand, he started to reach for it but his feet had other ideas. They remained rooted as if they knew something Peter had yet to catch onto. Slowly the haziness from the bleach subsided and his brain caught up with the rest of him. If I use the web shooters, they will know I'm Spiderman. Releasing a sigh, he glanced at the dresser that sat off to the side. Okay, we're doing this the hard way.
If we're doing this, then we are doing it quickly, he thought as he threw his backpack on and attached his web shooters to his wrist. Rushing over, slapped his hand against the wooden dresser before slowly pushing it right under the vent. It was this moment Peter was glad that Friday didn't have cameras in the rooms. But she might have sensors in the vents, his brain objected. All the more reason to move quickly.
Reaching up, he gently pushed against the barrier that was there and watched as it created an opening. Pausing a moment, he listened. Waiting for the inevitable sound of the Avengers rushing towards his room to stop him but all was quiet. Glancing at the door once, he breathed a sigh of relief before pulling himself up into the enclosed space. Gripping the vent cover, he carefully replaced it before waiting another moment, but all remained silent. Releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, he carefully crawled on his hands and knees throughout the vent. Trying his best to ignore the fact that the walls seem to be closing in on him, he focused on moving.
The sound of voices reached his ears causing him to pause before he noticed the small light that broke through the darkness just ahead of him. As quietly as he could, he crawled over and looked down. The top of someone's head greeted him. The mop of brown hair shook as the words flowed from the mouth of the owner.
"Seriously, it's been three days. You think the kid would have gotten bored by himself by now."
"Tony, first he has a name and it's Peter. Second, you have to realize he has probably been by himself for over a year. He's most likely used to it," Rhodes sighed.
"Still, it's been a long time."
"Tony's right."
"Oh my, the old man is agreeing with me. Someone call the news media."
"Tony," Steve warned but his voice didn't hold the usual Steveness to it. He sounded tired and honestly annoyed.
"Like how do we even know he's alive?" Tony gripped as he flopped on the sofa.
"He's taking the food we leave at the door," Rhodes pointed out.
"Yeah, but how do we know he's eating it. For all we know he could be a skeleton in there on death's doorstep."
All was silent as everyone stared at the genius. "What?"
"Nothing," Natasha started as she narrowed her eyes at him. "It's...just you seem to really care. It's an interesting look on you."
"Of course I care. Pepper is on her way back and if the kid dies on my watch, then Pepper would never forgive me and I'd like to marry her sometime soon."
"And here we thought your concern was for the child," Bucky mumbled.
"I mean yeah sure, that would be tragic too," Tony said with a wave of his hand.
Silence surrounded everyone before Tony broke it once more. "You know, I knew I should have installed cameras in the rooms."
"We've talked about that. It would be an invasion of privacy," Rhodes objected.
"Yeah, honeybear, I heard you the first time."
Honeybear, Peter thought as he frowned. What the-
"So, I vote for someone to talk to him," Sam voiced as he walked into the room.
"How?"
"Through the door, and I vote it be Bruce."
"Why me?" Bruce piped up.
"He's spoken to you once before, what's to say he won't do it again?"
"He has a point," Steve added. Everyone nodded in agreement before the man stood.
"Alright, I'll give it a try."
Time to go, Peter's brain seemed to shout. Not needing to be told twice the teenager carefully crawled past.
Time seemed to move slow but for every vent that Peter passed, he burned the room into his brain. He passed the living room with the Avengers, the kitchen, and even various bedrooms, when he got lost. All that was fine but what he couldn't understand was why Friday had not sounded the alarm that he was in the vents.
Stop questioning miracles, and keep moving, his brain scolded.
"Who knew inner thoughts could be so annoying?" he mumbled as he passed yet another vent in the sea of endless vents. Peeking through, he tried to memorize the room from his vision. Only to come face to face with a giant machine. Wires crisscrossed and flowed from the object as if it were an octopus with thousands of arms rather that the eight they are supposed to have.
"You Parker, have reached the motherboard," he mumbled but just as he opened the vent and prepared to drop down, a faint buzz started building up in his right side. Turning his head, he came face to face with a small machine that Peter would have mistaken for a fly if it had not been for the blinking red light on top.
Frozen for a second, he stared at the object that was recording him, before he shot out his hand and snatched it up, like a frog snatching a fly. Staring down at it, he watched as it attempted to whirl it's camera around to face him. Closing his hand into a fist, he crushed it and dropped down into the room below.
Landing perfectly, he took in the room, staring in awe at the equipment that stood before him. Every ounce of him wanted to start geeking out but his eyes were on another mission. The took in every inch of the room, burning the images in his brain.
"Now which one of these turns off the lock down?"
You are in a restricted area.
Peter jumped a mile high as his head shot to the ceiling. So Friday was alive.
You are in a restricted area. Identify yourself.
"Um…
You are in a restricted area. Identify yourself.
Turning around, Peter eyed the cords wondering which one would shut her up.
You are in a restricted area. Identify yourself.
Grabbing the first cord he saw, Peter yanked with all his might. Looking towards the ceiling he waited another second but nothing happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, he walked around and eyed the cords more carefully.
You are in a restricted area. Identify yourself.
"God dammit!" he shouted. He bent down to eye the cords again when Friday sounded off once more.
Alarm Protocol Activated. Enter the shut off code.
Eyes growing wide, Peter yanked out another cord only to have a large image of a time appear in front of him.
10 Second
"Shit!"
9 seconds
Peter yanked out another cord.
8 seconds.
Peter yanked out two cords at once before glancing at the timer.
7 seconds.
6 seconds.
Grabbing a hand full of cords, he yanked with all his might. Glancing at the clock Peter exhaled hard as the timer froze. Adjusting his backpack, he proceeded to study the cords closer.
Alarm Protocol Activated. Enter the shut off code. 5 seconds.
Peter's head shot up fast enough that his brain registered a brief moment of whiplash. Grabbing a few more cords, he pulled hard. This time instead of looking to the clock he grabbed another handful and unplugged those. The room was suddenly engulfed in darkness. The only thing that lit up the room was the red timmer that continued to count down.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 seconds.
0.
Peter stood as the red zero stared back at him mockingly. He waited for the alarm to go off drawing the Avengers to him. He would be caught, his DNA taken and his secret exposed.
Silence greeted the teen as he stood breathing hard. Focusing on his hearing, he listened for the sound of footsteps but none came. Turning back to the cords, he studied them and noticed that some of the cords were marked.
How the hell did you not notice that?
Glancing down at the cords in his hand, he stared at one of the green ones, with the label that sent a shot of pure joy through him. It was neatly labeled, Alarm.
"Thank God," he sighed as he dropped them. Sneaking a peek at the timer again, he went to investigate the cords. It only took him moments to find the right ones. They sat next to each other staring at him all innocent.
Camera and Lock down.
Grabbing the two, he yanked the camera cord first, successfully disconnecting the cameras. A smile graced Peter's face as he realized the taste of freedom was a moment away from his grasp. Grabbing the camera cord, he yanked it out and waited. Seconds later the sound of the locked doors lifting and the barriers lifting filled the air. Metal crashing into each other as they lifted on command. Peter released a breath and dropped the cord.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Peter shouted.
Not wasting anytime, Peter ran to the door, throwing it open. With one quick scan of the hall, he ran towards a side door. The sound of feet pounding on the ground grew steadily louder.
Move your ass Parker! His brain screamed.
Turning, he ran towards the woods before shooting a web at a tree and swinging away from the alarm and the compound.
