CHAPTER 2: AND THEIR WORDS ARE REALLY CLEAR

***PETER***

Maybe at any other time, I would have loved it if someone mistook me for my favorite superhero. But today, after so much crap has gone on, I feel really unnerved when Coulson calls me Spider-Man.

I'm so lost in my own thoughts and worries that the next thing I know, I'm getting repeatedly poked in the shoulder by Hiro. "Dude, open your door," he says.

"What?" I look around and see that we're stopped at an intersection about half a mile from San Fransokyo International Airport. Because the city itself is all crowded together in a relatively small area, the airport has to be here in San Castiel, about ten miles south.

Meanwhile, there's something repeatedly knocking on my door outside.

"Open the door," Hiro repeats. "We need to get Baymax in before the light changes."

"Wait, what? How can we fit-"

"He's in his box," Tadashi says, "and he's right outside your door, Peter, so grab him."

I look out the window and see a red box sitting on the sidewalk. "That's really him?" I ask. As if in answer, Baymax's arm emerges from the box and he knocks on the door again. "How'd he get here?"

"His box comes with wheels," says Tadashi. "Just grab him. You're probably the only one here who can lift him anyway."

"If you say so," I mutter, quickly opening my door and grabbing the box (Baymax's hand has been retracted). I find it hard to believe that Baymax weighs 300-something pounds - the metal box definitely doesn't feel anywhere near that heavy.

The real challenge, though, is to get the box through the door. It's about two feet wide, and just as tall, so no matter which way I turn it, it does not want to pass through.

"Peter, the light just changed," Skye warns me.

"All right. Everyone, get back." I give a huge tug on the box, and it finally comes in. I then lay it on the seat between me and Stark before pulling my door shut a split second after Skye hits the gas.

The rest of the ride to the airport passes in silence. Skye and Coulson flash their badges at the security checkpoint before we drive through the back entrance. Next stop - a huge black jumbo jet, probably the biggest one I've ever seen. Skye drives the SUV through its open cargo bay door, parking next to a classic red Corvette, of all cars.

As soon as Skye turns the car off, Coulson turns to me and says, "I'll be back soon - just have to fetch something from the lab. You kids can hang around a bit till I get back." He turns to leave, but then stops, turns around, and adds, "Don't touch Lola."

I eyeball him out of the corner of my eye while he disappears through a pair of glass sliding doors. "Who's Lola?" I ask.

Skye slides out of the driver's seat and points to the red Corvette. "She's the reason why Coulson's never gonna get married," she says. "Well, that and the fact that the only woman he ever loved thinks he's dead. But seriously, Coulson's always been married to that car."

"And for good reason, too," Hiro says, climbing out of the backseat while Stark and I leave the second row empty except for Baymax's box. "That car can fly."

Stark whistles under his breath. "Wow. Note to self - make sure to get a ride in the flying Corvette."

I watch as Hiro and Tadashi slide Baymax out of the car. "If he's really that heavy," I ask, "how are you two able to not break a sweat liftin' him together?"

"He's lighter when he's in the box," Tadashi says. "When he's inflated, he weighs a lot more."

"Inflation is a core aspect of my non-threatening design," Baymax says. He starts popping out of the box, but Tadashi pushes him back in.

"Not now, Baymax," he says. "Let's save it for later."

Tadashi and Hiro drag Baymax over to the corner of the big cargo bay, and then Hiro sits on the box while the rest of us stand around, not looking at each other.

"So…" I ask, finally breaking the silence after a minute or two. "I'm guessin' none of you Hamadas are actual high-school students?"

"I am," Hiro pipes up. "But the other two are a little past high-school age."

"I'm a senior at San Fransokyo Tech," Tadashi says. "And Skye here-"

"-never had any formal schooling," Skye cuts in. "I'm all self-taught. And I kid you not - when SHIELD first found me, I was workin' out of a van."

"Good to know," I mutter. "So, then, what the hell were you doing, goin' to high school? They decided to make you complete your education?"

"Hah. No." Skye blows a loose strand of hair out of her face. "It was just my mission. Well, our mission," she adds, gesturing to her brothers. "But mostly mine."

"And your mission was to creep me out by huggin' me a hundred times a day?"

Skye sighs through her nose. "I hate to admit it, but I did have an ulterior motive in there." She sticks her hand in her pocket, then pulls it out again. There seems to be nothing in her hand, but she's rubbing her index finger and thumb together, world's-smallest-violin style. Finally, she walks up to me and holds out her hand, showing me what she's got between her fingers.

"Micro-tracker," she says, rolling the tiny piece of plastic over so I can see the sharpened end. "Every time I'd hug you, I'd stick one of these into you."

I make a weird choking noise. "Trackers? You mean…" I suddenly realize that this might explain the weird markings I've been seeing on my hands lately. Mostly in the same spot, like tiny vaccination scars. I've always had a little red mark there on my right hand, between the knuckles on my middle and ring fingers. I've been told that it was caused by a bee sting when I was a baby (incidentally, that little incident might have contributed to my lifelong fear of bees, but let's not go there.)

That mark had faded away with time, but recently it had been coming back, a little more red and noticeable each day. Now I know why, and I also know I was better off not knowing.

"What exactly have you been tracking?" I ask, more out of creeped-out curiosity than anything else.

"Not your exact GPS geo-tagged location, if that's what you mean," Skye says.

I wipe imaginary sweat off my forehead. "Whew. And here I thought my privacy was really bein' invaded."

Hiro takes the tracker from Skye and sticks it in his own hand, the needle disappearing under his skin. I have to really lean in to see it, but when I do, I regret it. He then tosses the rest of the device aside and takes Tadashi's tablet, showing me the display after a few seconds of searching for whatever it is he's looking for.

"The tracker basically monitors all bio-functions," Hiro says, switching between two different screens with two different people's readouts being displayed. One has Hiro's name on it, and the other has mine. "Neural activity, so we know if you're in pain or not. Blood pressure monitor, to make sure it doesn't change."

"And if it ever did change," Skye chuckles, "then we assumed it was just you jerkin' off." I stare at her, mortified. "Oh my God," she laughs. "I was just...I swear to God, I was just kidding! I didn't mean…"

Stark cracks a brief grin. "Girl, you live with two young guys. You oughta know that if there's nothing else to do, a teenage boy will find a way to make himself happy."

I shake my head, my face on fire. "Disgusting."

"Yeah, now I feel really dirty about all this," Tadashi gripes. "Thanks a lot, Skye. That's way too much TMI."

"I'm...I'm sorry!" Skye says in between brief fits of laughter. "I seriously didn't know!"

I clasp my hands in front of my face. "Change. The damn. Subject."

"The software for the bio-trackers is loosely based on my own sensors for humans in distress," Baymax says. He starts inflating out of his box again, carrying another tablet in his hand. No, not a tablet. Stark's Surface.

"Hey, I was wonderin' where that went," Stark says, taking his Surface back.

"Dammit, Baymax," Tadashi groans, taking the tablet from Hiro and furiously trying to get back to Baymax's controls. "Shut...down...now!" Baymax deflates, and Tadashi locks the box up tightly.

"I don't get it," Hiro says, sitting on Baymax's box again. "He's never been able to do that before. Unless…?"

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Tadashi asks.

He and Hiro both swivel their heads and look at Stark. Or, more accurately, at the Surface Stark's still clutching to his chest.

"What?" Stark asks defensively.

"Your AI thing," Skye says. "After it got into Baymax, he started actin' haywire like this."

Stark scoffs, gesturing wildly at Baymax's box. "If that's your definition of 'haywire...'"

"What I mean," Skye hastily amends, "is that your program infected Baymax. And you might have cut it off and rescued him, but there's still some residual effects."

"You mean like my newly-acquired ability to self-activate at will?" Baymax asks. Hiro is pushed off the box as Baymax emerges once again, despite the locks having been engaged.

Tadashi curses again, while Hiro fetches a soccer ball from the back of the SUV. "Here," he says, leaving the ball in front of Baymax. "Go crazy, big guy."

Baymax bends down and tries to grab the ball, but with his short arms and butter-ball body, he can't quite reach it. His hands keep pushing the ball even further out of his reach, so he starts chasing it around the cargo bay, like an overgrown inflatable dog. I can't help but laugh at the sight - it's surprisingly cute.

Stark, meanwhile, looks from Hiro to Tadashi to Skye, and back again. "Hey, I dunno what you guys are tryin' to say here. I mean, I'm damn good at computers and robotics and shit, but I'm not Iron Man. I didn't code Ultron to do...what he did today. That wasn't me."

"You said it yourself, though," I point out. "It's an AI. Doesn't that mean it learns like a human?"

"'He,'" Stark grumbles. "These guys call their creation 'he,' so why can't I?"

"True," Hiro says. "Then again, it's easier to call Baymax 'he' 'cause he's got a body, a personality. Ultron has a personality, but no body."

Stark rolls his eyes. "Uh-huh."

"So what are we gonna do about Ultron?" Skye asks. "I'd suggest putting him in the Faraday cage, 'cause who knows how long it's gonna be before he decides to infect the whole plane?"

"Good idea, Skye," says Coulson, who comes back into the cargo bay carrying a skateboard. "Tony, if you please…?"

Stark's eyes twitch as he looks at Coulson. "Um…"

"Trust me, Ultron will be in good hands," Coulson says, putting the skateboard down.

Stark pauses a moment before very reluctantly passing the Surface to Coulson. "You know I do my homework on that thing, right?"

"You won't have to worry about homework for a little while," Coulson says. "You're on an extended, excused absence. That goes for you too, Peter," he adds before going back into the lab long enough to put Ultron into a metal box.

Hiro stands next to Baymax's box, watching the 'bot continue to chase the soccer ball for a few seconds. When Coulson returns, Hiro asks, "So what's the 'board for?"

"It's for Peter," Coulson says.

"Say what?"

"So you can try out another ability you never knew you had," says Coulson, sliding the skateboard across the floor to me. "Go on. Try it, Peter."

I stare at the skateboard warily. "Um..."

"What's the matter?" Stark asks, jumping out and 'boarding across the room. "You chicken?"

I can't help but laugh at the sight. Sure, some teenage guys (myself not included) seem incredibly at home on those things. Stark certainly is - he can do more than a few tricks with it. But I'm pretty certain nobody's ever seen a dude ride a skateboard while wearing a tux.

"Your turn, Petey," Stark says, coming back and giving the skateboard to me.

I furrow my eyebrows at him. "Don't call me 'Petey.' Only my friends call me that."

"You mean friend," Stark corrects me.

I narrow my eyes like I'm about to zap his ass with heat vision. He's right, but the truth hurts.

"You're really good at this, you know," Coulson says. "You just don't remember yet."

"Speak for yourself," I scoff. "I've never been on a skateboard in my life. I can't do this."

In the corner, Hiro snorts. "This from the guy who saved me by liftin' a three-hundred-pound inflatable robot." He taps his foot against the side of Baymax's red box.

"Just do it already, Peter," Skye says. She tries to lay a comforting hand on my shoulder - for old time's sake, maybe?

But I squirm away, muttering, "Don't touch me."

"Coulson's not gonna let you leave until you do," Skye says.

I look at Coulson, who's standing in front of the lab door with his arms crossed. Then I look at Stark, Hiro, Tadashi, and Skye, all of whom are staring at me. Probably expecting me to shoot webs from my wrists, too.

"You know how they say you never forget ridin' a bike?" Skye asks. "It's kinda true. Just let your muscle memory take over, and you'll be fine." She reaches for my shoulder again, but at a glare from me, she backs off. I have to wonder, did she really develop feelings for me while on her "mission" at Augustine? If so, gross. I'm underage, for God's sake.

I grit my teeth and roll my shoulders, then let the 'board hit the floor, wheels down. Then I step onto it and try to copy the tricks Stark demonstrated before.

To my amazement, I manage to pull them off very well. I even manage to ride halfway up the walls of the cargo bay. And, even more impressively, I manage to perch there. The 'board hangs off a little ledge of sorts, less than four inches wide, and I have one hand stuck to the wall.

And then the whole Spider-Man thing comes to mind again. Then I know what to do next.

I put my other hand on the wall, then kick the skateboard away. It clatters down to the floor, fifteen feet down, while my hands stick to the wall. I don't know how they do it - they just do.

"Show-off!" Stark snarks at me from below.

The three Hamadas give impressed whistles.

Coulson, meanwhile, calls up, "Come down, Spider-Man. I have to show you something else."

I leap down from my perch, landing on my feet. My knees bend as I land, and when I rise back up, I can see the smirk being slowly wiped from Stark's face.

"Follow me, boys," Coulson says, beckoning Stark and me forward, into the lab.

I exchange glances with Stark. "Down the rabbit hole, am I right?"

"You said it, not me."

"Hey, boss!" Skye calls out before the lab doors close. "Should we expect May and the rest to come back anytime soon?"

"They're on their way," Coulson says. "They just need to pick up...um...a couple more people."

"Define 'a couple more people,'" Skye says, narrowing her eyes.

"You'll recognize them when they get here," Coulson says.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"All in good time, Skye," Coulson says. "Boys?"

Stark and I look at each other again, then I shrug my shoulders and follow Coulson through the lab, into the heart of the plane.