For hours, Peter screamed and punched at the door holding him captive in the world's most boring room. He shouted all sorts of things from pleas to bartering and even resorted to cursing when desperation hit him hard.
Nothing happened though. No one came. They left him.
Peter went to the bed. He flopped down, the mattress softening the blow. Yet, his whole body hurt. Mind. Heart. Lungs even. His eyes were red and vision blurry. Not to mention he was starving. He hadn't eaten anything since the kidnapping. Which, he didn't even know how long that had been.
He thought of Aunt May. Was she looking for him? Worried sick? Did she think he died somewhere? Like Uncle Ben did? That made Peter's heart ache. He never wanted to worry Aunt May. She didn't deserve it.
But, Mr. Stark said he would take care of it. Whatever that meant. Probably nothing good.
And that was a whole different problem. His hero—Tony Stark, aka Iron Man—was not the hero he believed him to be. He knew the fallout between him and Captain America was bad. Every news outlet discussed it, all of them stating that the world entered a new era of superheroes. A new era of how the world would govern with superheroes out and about.
At the beginning, Peter didn't think anything would drastically change. After all, he thought the Accords were for the Avengers—not everyone. Everything changed. Not for the better.
He wished for those years the Avengers were a team. Together, fighting off aliens and saving New York—thus, the world. He missed those days. When Iron Man caught the nuclear bomb and sent it straight to space. Or Captain America punching aliens in the face with Hulk hopping from one ship to the next in a wave of destruction. Those were the Avengers Peter rooted for and admired. Those were the Avengers he wanted to become.
Not… this.
Whatever this was.
Food arrived. Turkey club sandwich, apple, broccoli and… some kind of dessert that smelled awful. He didn't even touch it. Peter ate everything else. Meal finished, the only thing left to do was sleep. But, he didn't want to sleep. He was afraid to sleep. Afraid what they might do to him if he was not awake to defend himself. He had to stay alert. Ready to fight when or if they come back.
He hoped they came back. If only to do something other than stare at a blank wall. Otherwise, he was certain he would die of boredom.
How much time had passed? How long has he been held here against his will? Hours? Days? Weeks? No—cannot be weeks. Maybe a few hours. A day at most. God—he wanted out. He wanted out of this room!
Peter got up and went to the door. He pounded his fist against the heavy door. "I want out!" he screamed as loud as his tired voice allowed. "Anyone? Hey! Anyone listening? I'm a kid! This is kidnapping!"
Nothing again. No surprise. Peter slapped the door in frustration and huffed. He paced his room. Still bored, he tried another tactic. He jumped to the ceiling and let himself hang from there. What did it matter if he showed off his skills? They already knew he was Spider-man.
He stayed upside down, not at all feeling the blood rushing to his head. Not that his blood did that. It was something of a spider trait. He never tested how long he could remain upside down without passing out. Maybe he could try now?
The test didn't last long. His super-hearing picked up a commotion, drawing louder near his door. Peter dropped from the ceiling, landing perfectly on his feet as he stood in the middle and listened.
Two people were talking. Discussing about tests, practices and concerns that Peter didn't quite understand. The voices ceased and in that brief moment, Peter's heart still until the door opened.
Peter's shoulder dropped upon seeing the man again, filling the door and imposing upon Peter. Behind him, was someone even smaller than Peter. It was a woman. Her brown hair knotted in a bun and she held kindness in her eyes as she gazed at Peter.
"Hi!" she smiled at him. "You must be Peter Parker. Is that correct?"
Peter shifted his gaze from the man to the woman. "Um…"
"Don't worry about Wondy, here," the woman gestured to Peter's enforcer. "He's not going to bite you. Simon?"
The man approached Peter, but Peter jumped away from him. He grabbed the wall and slithered up to the ceiling. He glued his fingers and feet to the ceiling and glared down at the man and woman.
Neither of them acted surprise. More… exasperated. They must deal with difficult people all the time.
The man approached, his hands reaching up to snatch Peter.
Peter growled. "Stay back! Get away from me!"
The man did not listen and tried to snatch him. Peter dodged him and moved along the ceiling to the opposite side of the room.
The man went to follow, but the woman stopped him. "Let me take it from here, Simon," she said and looked at Peter. "Hey—there's no need to be afraid of us, Mr. Parker. We are here to help you."
Peter shook his head. "Liar!"
The woman's smile never faltered. Her eyes remained kind. "I know you're scared," she said. "That's normal. Everyone has gone through exactly what you are going through."
Everyone? There were others like him? Trapped and held against their will? How many people did Mr. Stark steal?
The woman kept talking, her voice soft and homely. She reminded Peter of his aunt. "I'm not here to hurt you," she assured him. "Neither is Simon. Think of him as a helper. If you have questions or need anything, you can ask him. As for me, my name is Nellie and I'm a nurse. I'm under oath to do no harm."
Peter scoffed. "You're holding me against my will."
Nellie didn't act bothered by it. "Nothing will happen to you," she said. "You will be well cared for. All we need is a physical done."
Did she really think he would come down from the ceiling and willingly go with her? If she thought that, then she was insane. Everyone here was insane. How did they not think kidnapping a minor wasn't problematic?
A tickle of warning spiked within him. It gave him a split second heads up to dodge Simon's rough hands. The man snuck up while Nellie spoke to him and tried to yank him down from the ceiling. With Simon's hand missing by mere millimeters, Peter swung away to the next wall.
Taking in the situation, Peter noticed the door to the room was opened and exposed. Neither Nellie nor Simon were in position to block him. Freedom was within reach.
Time to go.
Peter leapt over Nellie, who shrieked when he came barreling near her head. She ducked right as Peter landed outside the door, in front of a long stretched hallway. No other person. A direct route to freedom.
He bolted, hearing cries and roars behind him. He didn't care to know what they were yelling. His only thought focused on escaping. Get out of the building. Find a phone. Or a road. Or something. Anything.
He sprinted down the hall, passing door after door. None opened despite the commotion following him. Maybe they were all locked as well. Other people trapped behind those doors, needing rescue.
Once he got out and found authorities, he would free them. He promised.
He slid around the corner, his feet gripping the tile to stop him from crashing into the wall. Panting and heart acting rabid against his rib cage, beating madly to get out, he thought he was about to have an actual heart attack.
Stay alive, Peter silently encouraged his heart. Stay alive and get out.
Peter spotted the elevator. Freedom! He charged forward, hitting the button repeatedly. He checked behind him. He saw Simon coming after him, but too far to catch him if the elevator doors opened now—
The elevator door opened and Peter jumped in, scanning the panel for buttons. There were no buttons. Nothing. Shit.
Peter ran his hands all over the sleek panel, but his hands hit nothing. There were no buttons anywhere. Then, he remembered. Simon spoke the level aloud. It was a smart elevator.
Peter glanced up, looking for something that resembled a camera or speaker. "Ground floor," he panted. "First floor? The floor with the exit."
Nothing. The door didn't even close. Was there something he had to do? Say something?
"Come on!" Peter shouted as loud as he could. "Close the door! Move!"
But it didn't. Nothing happened.
Peter peeked his head out. Simon was closing in. Too close for comfort. If the elevator didn't move…
Forget it, Peter decided. The elevator wasn't going to move on his command. Everything always had to be difficult for him. Damn Parker luck.
His only option was to go through the elevator's ceiling and into the shaft. He's seen old movies of action heroes jumping into elevator shafts and scaling them up and down. He can do it too. He was Spider-man. It would be easy.
Peter launched himself to the ceiling, searching for the hatch that would let him out to the shaft. He crawled along the top, searching and checking each square. Yet, he didn't find the hatch. There was nothing. How could there be nothing?
The pounding footsteps were loud. Simon was close. Peter was out of time.
He dropped from the ceiling and abandoned the elevator. Maybe there were stairs somewhere? All buildings required stairs.
Peter rushed out of the elevator as Simon got close enough to tackle him. Peter jumped out of the way and went full sprint down the hallway. His senses screamed of danger, warning him to run.
So, he ran. Fast. Faster. Don't look back. Keep running.
More commotion sounded around him. It blew his ears off, but Peter persisted. He checked each door, hoping to find the stairs to freedom. Yet, each door was the exact same. Steel and closed off.
Come on! Peter fumed as he came across no staircase. There had to be stairs! There had to be!
Peter whirled around the corner and found that he went in a big circle. He was back to where the room he escaped from. And Nellie, the nurse, stood right outside the opened room with a look of surprise.
She moved right into his path, holding her hands out to stop him. "Wait! Mr. Parker—"
Peter slammed on his brakes, nearly tripping over his feet before he re-balanced himself. He was going to have to—
All the air went out of Peter's lungs when something collided into him. His feet were knocked off and Peter thought for a minute he was flying. His feet were up in the air, wind rushing through his hair and his eyes only saw the ceiling. But, a heavy anchor wrapped around him, crushing him.
God! He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?
He heard shouting overhead. Nellie's voice screaming as her face came closer to him. "Stop it! Stop!" she said. "You're choking him!"
That's why he couldn't breathe. Someone was choking him. Peter rolled his eyes as far back as he could, trying to see the face of his choker. But everything was dimming. Oxygen deprivation. He read about it on the Internet. In a few minutes, he's going to pass out. Or die.
That's not good.
Nellie's voice boomed louder. "Let him go!"
The grip around Peter's chest loosened. His bones pulled back from his organs. His lungs immediately expanded in relief and Peter gave out a gasping choke. He hacked and cough, barely recovering from the brink of suffocation.
Someone's fingers carded through his hair and whispers filtered in and out of his ears. "Easy… breathe… another… you're doing great… over here!"
Peter felt dizzy as he sucked in more oxygen. His vision got better and he saw Nellie again. She stood in front of him and he realized it was her fingers carding through his hair. She smiled at him when she realized he was looking at her.
"You're okay," she comforted. "You're doing great."
What was he doing? He checked around him. There were enormous biceps around him, pinning his arms to his side. His feet dangled, not even touching the floor. He was helpless as he remained locked in place with Nellie brushing his hair away from his face.
Like his Aunt May did whenever he was upset or sick.
Peter jerked away. "Don't touch me!"
Nellie pulled her hand back. "Sorry," she said, but Peter didn't think she meant it. "Just trying to distract you."
"Distract me?"
He felt a prick go right into the crook of his elbow. He let out a sharp gasp and swung his head to his right side. There were two new people in the hallway. Both wearing doctor scrubs and one was holding a needle.
"That should do it," the man with the needle said. "It'll work quickly, so I suggest we start heading over."
"Do you think he can walk?" Nellie asked.
"I'll carry him," Peter heard Simon's voice behind him. It was he who tackled him from behind. "Don't need him to stick onto anything."
Suddenly, he was on the move. Simon carried him, arms pinned and feet barely scraping the surface of the floor. Peter squirmed, resisting their efforts, but the more he struggled, the more tired he became. In fact, every muscle in his body slacked. Almost like he lost all strength. Even speaking took too much of an effort.
What was happening to him?
They reached the elevators again. They all hopped into the elevator, scotching in to make room for everyone. Strange fingers touched Peter's neck, trying to find a pulse.
"Heartbeat is good," someone declared. "How you feeling, champ?"
Peter furrowed his eyes at the nickname. Champ? Really? "I… y-you…" It was too hard to speak. His tongue slipped on words and his lips barely formed any shape to make a decent-sound of any word in any language.
He resorted to a glare.
"He's fine," Simon said. "All in?"
Nellie, who remained in front of Peter, nodded. "Yep," she said. "All right, FRIDAY? Level six please?"
To Peter's immense displeasure, the doors closed and the elevator began to move. Why did it not do that for him when he needed to make his escape?
The ride was surprisingly short. The elevator dropped them off at the appropriate floor of what looked like to be some sort of medical ward. Peter eyed it all as Simon carried him through the passage, following Nellie's lead as the other two quickly disappeared in the throngs of other medical workers.
"This way," Nellie gestured for Simon to follow her. "We have his room set up here."
Simon carried him after her, reaching to a door with a number on it. 616.
Nellie opened the door and the first thing Peter saw was an examination table. She pointed to the examination table. "You can put him down there," she said to Simon.
Simon took one, long stride and reached the examination table. To Peter's surprise, the man gently laid him down before reaching for the restraining cuffs that were attached on both sides of the table.
Nellie put her hand on Simon's arm. "It's okay, Wondy," she said. "He won't do anything."
"He may run," Simon replied.
"Not in this state."
Peter couldn't argue with that logic. He was lethargic. Everything was too heavy for him. Including his eyelids, which dangerously almost closed. What did they give him? He thought his overactive metabolism would prevent any medicine from working that quickly?
Nellie pulled up a chair and swiveled over to the table. "Okay, Mr. Parker," she said, a smile plastered on her face again. "I'm just going to do a routine check. Blood pressure, hearing test, etc."
She had a portable table next to her and a hologram shot up. Peter stared and recognized it as his profile again. The same one Mr. Stark had in the interrogation room. The screen switched, his face fizzling out, morphing into the appearance of a hospital chart.
Nellie peered at the screen. "I see you are up-to-date with your vaccines. That's good," she commented. "You had your wisdom teeth recently removed."
If whatever drug wasn't coursing through Peter's veins and making him too lax to move, Peter would still be frozen on the examination table. They have his health records? All of them?
Nellie continued reading the records, making notes before she pushed the portable table back into its old position. "Seems like you are a healthy boy to begin with," she said. "So—again, I'm going to do the basic check-up. Nothing to be afraid of. Okay?"
No, but what could he do about it? Even if he wasn't completely helpless, there was still Simon. The man never left the room. He stayed in the corner, all stoic and silent that it creeped Peter out.
Nellie did as she told him. She took his blood pressure, checked his eyes and tongue, and her fingers moved around his neck and jaw, checking for any inflammation. Then, she brought out a stethoscope.
"Going to lift your shirt, okay?"
Again, he couldn't protest and she proceeded to lift his shirt, showing his bare chest. She pressed the cold stethoscope against his skin over his heart. She listened carefully and Peter watched her eyes squint in concern.
"Does your heart normally beat that fast?" she asked.
The drug prevented an easy response, so it took him a long time to gasp out a 'yes' to her question. His heart did normally beat that fast since the bite.
Nellie marked it down in her notes. She moved the stethoscope to his middle and asked for a big breath. He did his best and she typed in more notes. She told Peter she was done and that his doctor would come in to finish the rest.
"You just stay and relax," Nellie said, still holding that fond smile. "Dr. Cho is nice. You'll like her."
Peter doubted. He didn't like anyone at the moment. He also failed to relax. Can't with Simon looming nearby, watching him like a predator waiting for its prey to make a mistake. Almost daring it.
As the time passed, Peter's strength slowly returned. His toes wiggled and his fingers twitched. Then, the other muscles followed. At first, it all felt sore and stiff, but he pushed forward. He lifted his arm. A few centimeters from the table until he got it off a few inches. He smiled in victory as he achieved control of his body.
He shifted on the table and Simon suddenly stepped up to him as if to nail him down to the table. Peter lifted his hands up as far as he could to shield himself when the door opened again.
A sleek Asian woman entered, carrying a tablet in her arms. She had her hair tied back in a bun, revealing a gentle and intelligent face. She greeted Simon first, asking how he was doing before she moved to take over the seat Nellie once occupied.
She rested the tablet on the portable table and turned to him. "You must be Mr. Parker," she greeted. "I'm Helen Cho. You're primary doctor."
Helen Cho wasn't as delicate or friendly as Nellie. She was direct and unafraid. Like it was normal for a boy to be here. In a medical examination. Without his guardian and being held against his will.
Once Dr. Cho got situated and read over the notes Nellie left for her in his new health chart, she turned her chair to him. "So—how you feeling, Mr. Parker?"
"Fine."
"Really?"
Peter studied her for a moment before his eyes slid over to where Simon kept his post. "Yes."
Dr. Cho followed his line of sight. "Simon? Can you give Mr. Parker and me a moment?"
"He runs, Doctor," was all Simon said.
"So do I when I get the chance," Dr. Cho got up from her seat and opened the door for him. "Now, I need to speak to my patient in private. After all, I have to uphold my duty and that includes doctor-patient confidentiality."
Simon shot a distrustful look at Peter, but complied with Dr. Cho's request. He stepped out, but not without telling her that he would be right outside the door. Dr. Cho thanked him and closed the door.
"Now that it's you and me," Dr. Cho said, retaking her seat. "How are you feeling?"
"Scared," Peter answered. He was afraid of what was going to happen. Not only to him, but to his aunt as well. How was she handling his disappearance? Did she know? Was she afraid? What was Mr. Stark going to do to her?
Dr. Cho nodded, knowingly. "I understand. The first few weeks are difficult to adjust," she said. "But everyone here wants to help you succeed."
"Succeed?"
"In reaching your full potential," Dr. Cho clarified as she brought over his health chart to him. "So—it seems everything is normal. At least, for your condition. Blood results came back good too."
Peter's brows crinkled in confusion. Nellie didn't draw his blood.
Dr. Cho must have seen his expression because she quickly explained. "When you first arrived, we drew some vials of your blood to get a better understanding of your biological make-up."
That didn't make Peter feel better. "You stole blood?"
Dr. Cho hardly acknowledged the statement. "We used it to help us understand your mutated genetics and to help us develop the necessary medicine for you. Such as the drug you took today."
"You mean forced," Peter corrected with a bite in his tone. How many more violations are these people willing to make?
Dr. Cho gave a tight, uncomfortable smile. "In order to help you, we had to take samples," she said to excuse their invasion of privacy and thievery. "Now, I don't know how much you were told, but the next step is to do a power analysis."
"A what?"
"Power analysis," Dr. Cho repeated again, as if that would clear up any confusion. "We need to know of your strengths and weaknesses to create the best plan for you."
"Plan?" Peter said. "What plan? What…"
Peter forced himself into a sitting position. The drug weaned off and it didn't hurt that much for him to sit up. He swung his legs over the side, feet dangling over the edge as his toes gently brushed the cold tile below him.
A lot of things were happening and it was happening too fast. "Listen—I do not belong here," he said to Dr. Cho. "Do you know I am a minor? I'm fifteen! Mr. Stark or, whoever, kidnapped me. This is all illegal!"
Dr. Cho simply stared at him. No expression of sympathy or pity. Only a blank slate.
That frustrated Peter. "I want to go home!" he half-shouted. "Okay? I want to go home! I don't want to be here. I want—"
God—he was crying. He felt tears slipping out of the corner of his eyes and sliding down his cheek. Peter rubbed his hands over his face, trying to hide them, but he knew Dr. Cho saw them. No way she didn't catch the sight of those two tears escaping from his eyes.
He heard Dr. Cho sigh. "It's okay to be scared," she said to him, offering a tissue. "As I said before, many people have a hard time adjusting at the beginning, but eventually, it becomes normal. They make friends and become part of the team. You will too."
Peter took the tissue, but shook his head. No way. He would not go along with this ploy. He won't be some kind of secret warrior for Tony Stark or whoever.
But Dr. Cho didn't seem to believe in his silent conviction. "I understand why you're scared. You are young and it must be intimidating for you to be by yourself," she said. "But, none of us here wants to hurt you. We want to help you."
They have said that before, but hearing them repeat it over and over again didn't convince Peter to trust them.
"Now, Mr. Stark specifically asked me to ensure you feel comfortable and safe," Dr. Cho continued on, surprising Peter with that tidbit of knowledge. "I will do my best, but unlike most people here, I do not have any underlying power. I cannot read minds, so you must tell me whenever you aren't comfortable with something or if you feel too stressed, okay?"
Peter said nothing and Dr. Cho took that as a silent acceptance to his fate.
"Why don't we start with your first test, okay?" she said and handed him some kind of ball. "I need you to squeeze this as hard as you can. This is to measure your strength without any acceleration."
Peter completed the first test of many that day. Once he nearly punctured the ball in his palm, she switched it out with another ball, one with more resistance than the previous ball. After that, she basically did a tour of the floor with him. He had his vision tested at all different angles and distances. The same with hearing. How far away could he hear and how loud or soft pitches could he tuned in. Then she had him hanging upside-down to measure his heart-rate and blood pressure as he stayed up there for an hour. He did weight-lifting as well along with hand tosses and jumping tests.
The tests were all weird. None of them remotely close to the ones he did for his primary physician back in Queens. Then again, his doctor didn't know about his spider-like abilities.
During it all, Peter never gave his full effort. He acted like he did, breathing heavier purposefully to avoid any questions or doubts. Especially when Simon trailed behind them, watching him like a hawk.
After the brief lap on the indoor track, Dr. Cho declared his tests were done. They returned to the medical room 616 and Dr. Cho requested for Peter to sit on the examination table. He did and Dr. Cho fiddled with something on the counter.
Simon returned to the room as well, guarding the door. He still didn't trust Peter to not make a break. Smart thinking.
"All right," Dr. Cho said, turning in her chair. "Can I see your arm?"
Peter timidly lifted left arm, the one closest to her. He wondered what she was going to do next. Take more blood?
To his surprise, she snapped a metal bracelet around his wrist. It locked together and a blue light eliminated from the silver shine of the thin bracelet. Peter stared, looking it over with perplexity.
"That's your identification bracelet," Dr. Cho said and Peter looked up to her. "It'll give you access to certain areas in the compound like the cafeteria, gym, your bedroom, etc. It will also monitor your health, like heart-rate, stress levels and blood pressure."
"Basically it's a tracking device," Peter grumbled as he tried to rip it off him. It was impossible. "Why won't it—"
"It cannot come off," Dr. Cho answered his unfinished question. "It's made of vibranium. The strongest metal on Earth. And once I finish encoding your power analysis into the system, it will take the necessary actions to subdue you to prevent you from breaking it."
"So this is a collar, right?" Peter growled. "It will zap me if I try to remove it?"
"Or drug you," Dr. Cho added. "Only to sedate, nothing lethal." When she saw the look on his face, she emphasized, "Again, we aren't here to hurt you."
"Saying it over and over again won't make me believe you."
Dr. Cho finished inputting her data and notes into his profile. She tapped on a few things and received confirmation. The bracelet glowed again and Peter knew it was over. It was officially locked and loaded.
"Your power score is a six," Dr. Cho told him as she closed down the hologram. "Not too bad considering your age. After a few months of training, you may be upgraded, but right now, you are average. Again, not a bad thing considering you are only fifteen."
Peter gaped at the doctor. Was he supposed to be impressed? "Okay."
Dr. Cho smiled. "Remember—if you ever feel uncomfortable or stressed, let us know."
"I feel uncomfortable and I am highly stressed," Peter said and meant it.
Dr. Cho only offered a small smile of sympathy. There was a knock on the door and Dr. Cho gave her nod of approval for Simon to open the door. Another man stepped in, dressed in a basic black and gold uniform, and his blue eyes spotted Peter at once. As if he already knew exactly his position.
Dr. Cho waved the man entrance. "Mr. Reynolds," she greeted. "You're early."
The man—Mr. Reynolds—didn't look away from Peter. "I was told I have a new recruit," he said. "Came as quickly as I could."
Dr. Cho blushed as she fiddled with the tablet. "Um… oh! Yes, Peter," she started. "This is Peter Parker. Peter? This is—"
"Robert Reynolds," the man cut in, stepping forward and shoving his hand into Peter's for a strong handshake. "You are not exactly what I expected, but it is nice to meet you. Mr. Stark told me you are the Spiderling? Spider-Boy?"
"Spider-man," Peter said.
Mr. Reynolds smiled, clearly humored by the name. "Right. Of course," he said. "Well, most people call me Rob or Reynolds. But, my hero name is Sentry. I'm to be your captain."
Peter arched his brows up. "Huh?"
Robert Reynolds—Sentry—turned to Dr. Cho. "Did anyone talk to him about this?"
"He's having a difficult time adjusting," Dr. Cho explained as Peter stewed over the fragile treatment. "His mind is still trying to comprehend everything."
Reynolds gave an affirmative nod. "Okay, well, then," he said, turning his attention back to Peter. "I guess I'll do my best to explain it all on the way to meet the others."
"Others?" Peter uttered. There were more people he had to meet? More people to terrorize him?
"Yes," he said. "Going to meet the team."
"Team?"
"Yes," Reynolds' voice was smoothe and unthreatening. "Here—let's get you some shoes and your training clothes first. I'll tell you more on the way."
Peter didn't even realize the man grabbed his elbow and dragged him off the table. Dr. Cho passed on her good-byes and reminders while Simon stayed behind as he had no need to follow. After all, Reynold's grip was far stronger Simon's hold. Peter even worried that his bone was breaking under those stubby fingers.
"Where are you taking me?" Peter questioned as Reynolds took him to the elevator again. He was nervous. His spider-senses spiked a bit, but he didn't know if it was due to his fears or if he was truly in danger.
Probably both.