Peter turned off the tap and put his toothbrush down before ruffling his hair and walking out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He let himself fall on his bed with a 'oof', and enjoyed the small bouncing motion of the mattress for a few seconds before reaching over and turning off his bedroom's light. Keeping his blanket down near his feet – he never actually got cold, for some reason –, he turned left and right for a few minutes before adopting his favourite fall-to-sleep position. He sighed contently, and relaxed his facial features.

Combat training used to be what he disliked most. No, actually, it had always been medical exams. But combat used to come a close second. He had been used as a punching bag-slash-moving target practice by the multiple operatives that were supposed to be training him. They had trained him, sure, as he now had a very high pain tolerance, and amazing dodging skills. But since the Asset had started teaching him, Peter actually enjoyed combat training. He got to counterattack, and learnt a lot. But what really mattered to the young boy was that he could relax a bit, and talk about anything, chattering to his instructor to his heart's content. He mostly got grunts and nods as answers, but it was so much more interesting than staring at his bedroom's wall and whispering nonsensical things to himself at night - he wasn't crazy., just very lonely.

The now twelve-year old boy wished to himself that he could just learn fighting techniques all day. He told the Asset one day, and the man smiled at him, leading Peter to be in a good mood for a week. The man did enjoy Peter's company!

Of course, the boy knew that he had many other lessons to attend throughout the day. He could now speak half a dozen languages, and understand a few more. His science classes had been converted into lab sessions to the great relief of his tutors, who had run out of material for him – Peter had been having some fun by asking questions about advanced concepts, and watching the tutors stand up and leave the small classroom, with distressed faces, when they couldn't answer him.

He also had long, extensive history lessons every week. Over the years, he had had to write countless essays about how Hydra had been formed to fight against oppressing governments and their ruthless intelligence agencies. He wrote equally as many history essays from the point of view spread by these oppressing governments, so that once in the field, he could blend into the role of a generic teenager without detection.

He knew that Hydra was currently infiltrated into SHIELD – after all, his uncle was an undercover scientist within SHIELD, utilising the US government's resources for his genetic research. Peter strongly suspected that his uncle used his medical results and DNA for his experiments, but he never dared to ask him about that. Peter himself had never gotten approval to look at his own DNA. He had discreetly done some tests in the lab on his blood, and he knew that there was something different about him. He couldn't pinpoint what through further experiments, because of the dozens of scientists watching his every movement.

He understood that everyone in Hydra was working hard to secure a better future for humanity. Honestly, Peter couldn't wait for that future to come. It would make everyone at Hydra relax a fraction. He constantly felt like someone was going to bite his head off if he looked at them wrong or something.

Peter knew that soon the time would come for him to play his role and support Hydra out in the field. He had been training for it for over five years, and he was itchy to prove to everyone that he wasn't a liability. His fighting technique was on par with that of the asset, and he was much stronger than him physically. He didn't know why he was so strong, and he suspected that not many people were able to crush metal handles when they hit their toes on door frames.

At night, he spent countless hours wondering why Hydra had chosen him as their 'project', and what would happen to him when he joined the outside world. How it would be to pretend to be someone he was not. But he was really looking forward to leaving the Hydra base. He rarely got to go outside nowadays, and "outside" was basically a small enclosure with no trees and sad-looking grass.

Sure enough, the time came, just after he turned thirteen. It was early September, and he was in a good mood because his morning session with the Asset had gone really well. He had managed to hit all the moving targets with knives whilst facing the other way, with his eyes closed. It was so cool, in his opinion; the Asset had made a snorting noise when Peter voiced his thoughts. After lunch – porridge, again -, Peter walked into his history classroom. He jumped slightly when he saw that the Asset, along with his aunt, uncle, and high-ranked officials of Hydra, were sitting in the room.

Peter's stomach clenched, but he controlled his breathing. He could do this. He crossed the room and sat into the remaining chair, not meeting the eyes of the adults around the room apart from that of the Asset.

"I presume that you know why you are here, Project."

Peter internally winced when the white-haired woman addressed him by his official denomination – he would never get used to it. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw the Asset frown slightly as well before adopting neutral features. Peter looked at the woman, and nodded mutely.

"We have decided to enrol you at the Midtown High, in New will be living with May Parker in a flat in Queens for the year. Report to the front doors in thirty minutes for transportation."

And that's when Peter Parker's life really got interesting.

What will happen in New York?