A/N: Hello, again, friends, and welcome to Chapter Nine! Things are about to heat up for Cap and Spidery! Thanks so much for all the support, and please don't hesitate to review!

Chapter Nine

Three hours into his nap, Peter snapped up in his seat.

"Peter?" Cap asked. "You alright?"

Bending down, Peter picked his mask up from the floor. "Yeah," he said. "Guess I'm just a little hyped."

Steve smiled. "If it weren't for how much time you've been spending in your lab, I'd be surprised you could sleep at all," he said. His eyes were distant as he looked into the back, at the Quinjet's empty seats. "I remember how Bucky and I used to be before missions. Sitting in the back of the plane, about to jump out and take on Hitler's forces. Bucky had so much energy before a battle I sometimes thought he would start sparking."

"Then he got that metal arm and you actually had to watch out for it," Peter said, smiling. Steve's expression darkened for a second. Peter had forgotten how much Steve blamed himself for Bucky being turned into the Winter Soldier. "Sorry, Cap," he said.

Steve flipped a few switches above his head. "Don't worry about it," he said.

Feeling a sudden need to stretch his limbs, Peter unbuckled his seat belt and walked into the back of the plane. He found his favorite seat, near the back, the one that had the window that always let him see Carol as she flew beside them. He bent down and looked out, the black expanse of the Atlantic spread out beneath them. "Cap," he said, "I know what I'm doing here. But why did you want to come?"

Steve waved for Peter to come back up to the cockpit. "Well, for one thing," he said as Peter sat back down in the right seat, "You needed somebody who could fly the damn plane."

Peter laughed. Captain America just cracked a joke? Oh, God, they were about to die. "I'm pretty sure Mephisto is experiencing his first snowfall right about now," he said. "But seriously, wouldn't Natasha or Clint have been a better choice? Again, not that I'm doubting your awesomeness, but we're both kind of dressed in bright red and blue, here."

Steve kept his eyes forward, both of his hands on the yoke. "What Doom took," he said, "Is very personal to me. People trying to recreate me have caused some of the greatest tragedies this world has ever seen."

"Thanks," Peter said.

Steve turned his head and saw that Peter was smiling. "A lot of good, too, but far more damage," he said. "In Doom's hands, that formula could finally give him the army he needs to attack any country that offends him, including the United States."

Peter looked down at his feet. "So it's just a duty thing, then?" he asked. "Gotta protect the good ol' U.S. of A.?"

"Yes, it's about duty," Steve said. "Duty to my friends: to you, and to Carol. Duty to Abraham, who believed in me all those years ago, that I would treat the power he was giving me with respect, and use it responsibly. And duty to myself, to prevent that which made me the man I am from being corrupted and used by blooded hands for bloody ends."

Silence fell between them as Peter considered Steve's words. In comparison, Peter felt like he was there for all the wrong reasons. He was angry that Doom had stolen his research, furious that Doom's actions had put Carol's life in further jeopardy. He was there to try to get her only chance for a cure back, yes, but more than anything he was hoping for the chance to smash Doom's face into the ground. Spider-Man wasn't there to bring justice; he was there to bring punishment.

Peter looked down to make sure there wasn't a skull on his chest.

"So, when you said you knew what you were doing here, what did you mean?" Steve asked.

Peter didn't want to answer that question, not now. "Well, I just kind of figured out that my reasons for being here aren't quite as noble as yours, so…"

Steve smiled. "Peter, I don't blame you for feeling angry. If we have to fight Doom, I wouldn't mind you letting some of that anger out on his face. Just remember that we're not looking for the fight, ok?"

Peter sighed. "Sure thing, Cap," he said.

Steve looked at his friend. "Try to get some more rest, Peter," he said. "I'll let you know once we get over the landing zone."

Peter leaned the chair back again, throwing his forearm over his eyes. As he drifted off, Peter thought of his uncle, and wondered if Ben would forgive him.

XXXXXX

"He did what?!"

Carol hadn't slept long. She couldn't. She knew that Peter was going to go do something stupid, like trying to take Doom on by himself. What she hadn't expected was that he'd leave so soon after their talk, or that he would rope Steve into his crazy scheme.

"They," Tony said, "They essentially stole one of our Quinjets. And, I'm assuming, are currently flying it into Latveria."

She really, really wished she had some level of power going right then. Just so she could take out her frustrations on the wall. "Why are you assuming, Tony? Did they not file a flight plan?"

"Nope."

"But the question is 'why?'" Natasha said. "Why didn't they log out the plane? Steve knows the procedures, and he's not usually one to shirk the rules."

Her hospital room was getting crowded. Jess was standing in the corner, Tony and Natasha were at her side, and Logan was standing at the door, his face still looking a bit blistered from the day before. "We've been trying to raise 'em on the radio, too," Logan said, "But we're just getting static. It's either jammed…"

"Or they've shut it off," Tony finished.

The decision to include Carol in the conversation had been Jessica's. The others hadn't wanted to stress her further, but once they started talking, Jess assured them that Carol would want to be kept in the loop. "You know once she's better she's gonna kick every ass in this building that decided she didn't need to know something," Jess had said.

"The only reason to do what they did is if they're trying to hide," Natasha said. "But why would they be trying to hide from us?"

Jess stepped closer to the group. "What if it's not us?" she asked. "I know for a fact that Hydra's got people inside S.H.I.E.L.D. What if Doom's got people too? What if they're trying to hide from Doom's eyes?"

Tony shook his head. "That would make sense, but Doom's got to know they're coming," he said. "The way Spidey was acting, Doom knows Pete's gunning for him."

"But he won't know when," Natasha said. "He may be expecting us to take more time to prepare before storming his castle."

Logan walked over from the door, standing between Tony and Natasha. "Or expecting some of our strongest, probably me an' Thor again too."

All of which told Carol that Peter and Steve were woefully unprepared for the death trap they were walking into.

Carol was starting to sweat. She was feeling stifled. Confined. There were too many people, too much going on around her. She needed to clear her head. She needed the sky.

"Guys," she said. "Out. Please. I just," she paused, breathing in heavily. "I need a few minutes, ok?"

The Avengers looked at her, nodded, and started for the door. Carol grabbed Jess's wrist as she walked past. "Not you," she said. Jess rolled her eyes, but stayed in the room.

"What's wrong?" Jess asked.

"Help me up," Carol said, pushing herself up on her elbow.

Jess grabbed her friend's other arm and pulled. Carol rested on the edge of the bed for a moment, then stood. Her legs were wobbly at first, but she found them after a few seconds. She walked over to the wardrobe that rested in the corner alcove, hidden away from the observation window. She opened the doors and saw her Captain Marvel costume, hanging there since Peter had brought her in. Her fingertips grazed the fabric, and found a few slivers of glass from where he'd taken the fall into a windshield for her. She picked up the hanger.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jessica asked.

"I'm going to help," she said, trying to tug the hospital gown off herself. The cotton cloth tangled itself in the plastic tubes in Carol's body, and she started trying to rip them out.

Jessica ran over and grabbed her arms. "Carol, stop!" she said, trying desperately to keep her friend from shaking free of her grip. "Carol, you don't have any power right now, you can't do anything for them!"

Carol's knees buckled, and she fell to the floor. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the rapid beeping of the heart monitor.

She slammed her fist into the wardrobe, leaving only a small dent in the wood. "I hate this," Carol said. "Feeling powerless. Helpless. It's not who I am."

"I know," Jess said, sitting down next to her.

Carol looked up at her costume. "I took up the mantle because I wanted to honor someone who'd been a hero throughout the universe. Not just to me personally, but to everyone. Mar-Vell saved millions of people that he'd never even seen." Carol turned to Jess, her eyes bloodshot and tired. "How can I deserve this when I can't even do anything to help my friends?"

Jess pulled her close, and Carol rested her head on Jess's shoulder.

XXXXXX

The Quinjet whined as Peter opened his eyes again. He could feel the subtle vertigo as the plane started to descend, and he looked out the window to see the summits of the Alps passing beneath and around them. His mask had fallen to the floor again, and as he reached down to get it, the plane jumped, slamming the back of head into the console.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Steve said, flipping some switches before pulling back on the throttle.

Peter rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I am now," he said. "Are we there yet?"

Steve smiled at him for a moment. "Nearly. We'll have to touch down on the other side of this range, and hope that Doom's patrols can't detect the Quinjet through the cloak."

"Are we hoofing it to Doomstadt?" Peter asked. "Because I left my Spidey-Hiking boots in my other costume."

A clearing opened up at the edge of the mountains, and Peter felt gravity letting go of him as the VTOL engines took over and started lowering the Quinjet to the earth.

"We don't really have a better option," Steve said, his eyes focused outside the windshield. "This is the only exit strategy we have. Whether we end up fighting Doom or not, this Quinjet has to stay safe in order for us to get back to New York."

The plane touched down between the mountains, and the engines whined as Steve powered them down. Peter pulled on his mask, then grabbed the headrest and back-flipped over the seat. Steve stepped out of the cockpit, strapping the shield onto his back and pulling his winged mask over his eyes. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"You've asked me that question, like, eighty-five times," Spider-Man said, opening the door, letting the pale gray light of the overcast late afternoon shine into the aircraft. "I'm pretty sure that if I'm not ready now, we're kinda boned."

Cap shook his head and walked out into the grass, Spider-Man following close behind. Pressing a button on a remote he'd pulled from his belt, Cap watched as the Quinjet shimmered, then disappeared from view entirely. "Neat trick," Spider-Man said, "But can it tell why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch?"

Twenty minutes later they crested the top of a hill, and Doomstadt rested in the valley below them, with Castle Doom looming over a village that was miniscule in comparison. "I wonder if Vicky's compensating for something," Spider-Man said. They hiked further down the hill, circumnavigating the town, and prepared to approach the castle from the south.

His Spider-Sense gave not a vibration as Peter touched the outer wall of the castle. There should have been some danger, at least, something that would cause a slight tremor, even if they were still undiscovered. Steve came up right behind him, now armed with the shield. "What's wrong?" Cap asked.

"Nothing," Spider-Man replied. "Literally, nothing. No tingles. I don't like it. Makes my nose twitch."

Cap thought for a second, then shook his head. "It's not like we really have a choice, now," he said. "Let's get inside, we can figure out more from there."

"You're the boss," Spider-Man said, climbing the wall to the window. He lowered a web line once he reached the sill, and Cap followed him up. As soon as they entered the castle, the darkness pressed down on them, and a few moments passed before their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Spider-Man leapt to the ceiling, electing to stay in the shadows, as Cap walked down the corridor, his shield at the ready.

They were met with no sound, no sentries. It was as if the castle and everyone in it had vanished. As they came to the end of the hall, Spider-Man crawled through the archway leading into a convergence of several passages. He scaled the domed ceiling, taking in the room before signaling Cap that it was clear.

"I feel like we're in an old radio show," Spider-Man said, dropping down to stand next to Cap. "Don't say it," he continued, noticing how Steve's face lit up. He looked around the chamber again, his voice echoing through the high-ceilinged, stone building. "I figured there'd be Doombots and statues and stuff everywhere."

Steve looked around the room. "Multiple passages," he said, his voice distant. "We should probably split up, cover more ground. Clear a passage, meet back here, move onto the next one. If the corridor leads somewhere, don't take it all the way through, wait for me."

"You think we're in a trap?" Spider-Man asked.

"I know we're in a trap," Cap replied. "The question now is just when and where Doom is going spring it."