Author's Note: So much Spider-Man stuff has happened since I last updated! Just to be clear, this story follows the Andrew Garfield movies. So, I'm going to be ramping up my updates, as I want to get this story done by the time that "Age of Ultron" comes out. So, faster updates starting now! Please enjoy this chapter.
"Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper."
― Friedrich Nietzsche
The next morning, Peter woke up feeling refreshed. Now that all the drama with the team had blown over—Natasha and Tony hadn't killed each other; there were no more hidden secrets—the teenager could finally let himself breathe.
His alarm clock beeped incessantly and the teen quickly shut it off and hopped out of bed. Shrugging out of his t-shirt and sweatpants, he changed into a casual blue t-shirt and dark washed jeans. He hastily brushed his teeth and combed his hair before taking the elevator down to the kitchen.
"Hey," He began to say as he stepped off of the elevator, eyes locked on his phone, which held the latest message from Gwen. He smiled as his girlfriend's good morning message made him beam. He had gotten really lucky with her. Not just anyone could handle having a superhero for a boyfriend, but Gwen not only understood, but she refused to treat him any differently because of it. He couldn't wait to see her at school and inform her that all had been resolved with the team. "Has anybody seen my backpack—?"
"Morning, Parker."
Peter froze.
Nick Fury leaned casually against the granite counter, idly stirring some cream into his coffee. Clint stood on the other side of him, gaze narrowed at the director.
Fury boiled through the teenager's veins. This was the man responsible for putting his aunt in the hospital. This was the man who tried to force Peter to become the type of superhero that he thought the teen should be, regardless of what Peter wanted. Nick Fury was a selfish bastard, no one was disputing that, but in that moment, the young hero wanted nothing more than to walk over to the Director and punch him square across the jaw.
"Fury." He spat, forcing himself to stay rooted in one spot, lest he lose control. Fury deserved to be punished. Yet, for the sake of the team—of which two of its members worked specifically for Fury—he had to stay put. He couldn't attack this man, not now at least.
"Look, Parker." The older agent began, and then stopped, as if needing to weigh his options. He frowned somewhat and returned to stirring his coffee. "I understand you don't necessarily approve of my actions—"
"That's putting it lightly." The teenager interjected, folding his arms across his chest. "You could've killed Aunt May. You put her in danger!"
"I don't dispute that," He replied, glancing at Clint for support, but the archer looked away. "Yet, if you understood the circumstances—"
"What do you want, Fury?" Peter interrupted, not wanting to hear another excuse for Fury's careless actions.
"I'm here to inform you that you are in lockdown." He answered, meeting the teen's gaze.
Peter blinked, gaping somewhat.
"I'm . . . what?"
"You are not to leave this tower." Fury clarified. "And before you say anything, it's not my order. It came directly from my superior."
"You're going to hold me prisoner?" Peter questioned, disbelief coloring his tone. "Are you serious? I have a life! I have school and Gwen and—"
"Your life, Peter," Fury placed the coffee cup down and emerged from behind the counter, coming to stand directly in front of the teen. The Director's eyes held no hint of anger, but just a tinge of remorse. "It stopped being yours the day you became Spider-Man."
Peter wanted to scream. He wanted to attack Fury, wanted to get revenge for all the injustice this man had caused, for all the pain he'd put the teen through, but instead, Peter just stood there. Fury, in a twisted sort of way, was right. Spider-Man was an icon to the citizens of New York and he was considered almost like public property. New York would never care about Peter Parker, but Spider-Man?
Everyone loved Spider-Man.
With great power comes great responsibility, he'd always been told that. Uncle Ben used to tell him stories about sacrifices made for the better good, how sometimes the one had to be sacrificed for the betterment of the many. Always, Peter had listened and he had understood. He had known the moment he'd donned that costume, that saving people came first.
But deep down, he supposed that he had always hoped that he would never have to choose. That maybe Peter Parker could be just as important as Spider-Man. Now though, he saw that would never be the case.
"Can I know why you're locking me up?" The teenager muttered, barely lifting his gaze to meet the Director's eyes. "Or is that classified too?"
Fury chuckled darkly and motioned for Clint.
"I'm afraid I cannot stick around long enough to debrief you." He moved towards the elevator. "I've authorized Clint and Natasha to inform you. Should you have any questions, direct them to those two."
With a slight wave, the elevator doors closed and the Director was gone.
"You okay?" Clint asked, coming to stand next to the teenager. The two of them had never really been able to spend much time together and Peter knew next to nothing about him. Maybe today he could change that.
"Yeah," He lied. "I'm fine."
Clint snorted, smirking somewhat.
"Yeah, right." Then gesturing to the elevator, the archer added. "Come on."
"Where to?"
Clint just grinned.
"The shooting range."
"Seriously?" Peter murmured, a bit excited.
Clint's response was to get in the elevator.
Grinning, the teenager scurried after him.
"So, how pissed is Peter?" Tony asked, coming to sit at his desk. Loosening his tie, he leaned backwards in his plush black leather chair and laced his hands behind his head, leaning backwards on them. He'd just gotten out of a tense stockholders meeting—apparently the stockholders were a bit worried that their very busy CEO wasn't taking enough time out of his schedule of pummeling bad guys to focus on the company—only to be greeted by a terse Natasha who had conveyed Fury's latest orders.
"I'm not sure." The deadly assassin replied, accepting a glass of water from Pepper. She took a measure sip of it, sighing softly. "Clint is with him now."
"And why, pray tell, is he being locked up?" Tony inquired, voice tinged with frustration over Fury's tactics. The Director was all secrets and orders, never explaining his choices until he absolutely had to and not a moment before that.
"This." Natasha tossed a file down on the mahogany desk and the billionaire reached for it. Thumbing through, his eyes quickly scanned the pages.
"Is that the Oscorp logo?" Pepper queried, brows furrowing. "What would they want with Peter?"
"Precisely what S.H.I.E.L.D. is asking." Natasha responded. "The only connection we could find is an old project that his father was involved with." She downed the rest of her water and handed the glass back to Pepper. "But Peter was too little to understand any part of the project. There's no way he'd be useful—"
"Well, someone at Oscorp thinks he'll be of value." Tony concluded, grimacing as he shut the file. "Does Cap know about this yet?"
"Fury told him personally this morning before he went to see Peter." She replied.
"So," Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oscorp wants Peter to finish this project that his father abandoned." He shut his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts. "Why, though? He would've been just a kid so it's not like he'll remember much." His eyes snapped open. "Unless, it's not because he was there and might've seen something."
"Then, what?" Pepper pressed.
"Oscorp does a lot of genetic research, right?" The inventor inquired quickly, his mind racing a million miles a minute as his thoughts started to fall into place and the solution started to reveal itself. "This secret project . . . what if only someone with Parker DNA can finish it? What if Richard put a failsafe into it just case—"
"Just in case it should fall into the wrong hands." Pepper concluded.
"This project," Tony pointed to the folder. "Whatever it is, it's big enough that Norman Osborn would be willing to kidnap Peter to finish it." He rose from his desk and headed towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Natasha called out.
"I'm going to S.H.I.E.L.D. and I'm getting all the files on this project." The CEO replied confidently. "We need to know what exactly Norman Osborn is up to."
"I'll come with you." Natasha informed him, without a moment's hesitation.
"I'll cancel all your other appointments." Pepper moved for the phone and Tony beamed at her, grateful to have such an amazing and understanding woman in his life.
"Thanks, Pep."
"Just go," She gestured to the door. "Go protect Peter." Though she had only met him once before, it was clear the teenager had wormed his way into her heart. He seemed to have that effect on people.
"Natasha, let's go."
And then they were out the door.
"I can't believe Tony actually made these." Peter chuckled as he examined the Nick Fury targets on display in the shooting range. The room was in the basement levels of the tower and extended back for at least 100ft. Numerous weapons were locked in secure cases—bows and arrows, throwing stars, various spears, and an assortment of guns.
"Yeah, well," Clint extended his bow and reached for a few arrows out of the protective cases. "What Fury doesn't know won't kill him."
Peter just chuckled.
"So, what do you want to try?" The archer asked the teen and Peter glanced over the weapons. He'd never done any target practice before—in fact, all he really shot in battles was his webbing.
"Um . . ." He lets his gaze drift over all the cases.
"Here." Clint finally intervened, handing the teen another bow. "Try this out."
The bow was lightweight, more so than the teen had expected. It was made out of some metal that he had never encountered before and the young man pulled the coil back a bit, testing what it would feel to fire an arrow from it.
"You load an arrow like this." Clint reached for a metal tipped arrow from the quiver and easily loaded it onto his bow. Like it was second nature, he pulled the coil back and let the arrow soar.
It pierced Fury's heart directly.
"Wow." Peter murmured, impressed by the archer's skill. "You're really good at this." He'd only been out in the field once or twice before with Clint and he'd been so preoccupied with those mysterious orbs, that he hadn't had a chance to see Clint's skills in action.
"You have your webs and I have my bow and arrows." He winked at Peter before firing off another arrow, this time piercing Nick's gut. "Give it a try."
Hesitantly, Peter pulled back the coil and fired off an arrow. It soared shakily for a few feet before clanging on to the floor nowhere near the target. Clint burst out laughing and the teen couldn't help but chuckle as well.
"I think I'll just stick to my webs."
"Sounds good to me."
And as he fired off another arrow, Peter could feel the frustration leaving his body as the arrow soared away.
"Miss Stacy, a word?"
Gwen glanced at the message from Peter—I'm fine, but can't leave the tower. Will call you to explain later tonight—and slipped her phone into the front pocket of her lab coat.
Dr. Lahey stood by her desk, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. His gaze was locked on the dull grey carpet, as if he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze.
"Dr. Lahey?" She prompted as he came to stand before him. "Is everything alright?" Today marked her first day back at Oscorp and as much as she disliked the company, she did miss doing her research and being on the cutting edge of genetic experimentation. In her brief time as an intern, she had learned so much. This time, while looking out for Peter, she could maybe learn a bit more.
"It's fine." Dr. Lahey replied quickly. "I just wanted you to come to Lab 12 with me."
"Oh." Lab 12 was where most of her genetic research with Dr. Connors had been. She hadn't exactly been looking forward to heading back there. "Yeah, sure."
"This way then."
She followed him through the twisting corridors until they arrived at the lab. Punching the access code into the keypad, Dr. Lahey pushed open the door and allowed her to enter first.
The lab; however, was empty.
Dread trickled up her spine.
"Dr. Lahey, what—?"
She turned around only for the barrel of a gun to greet her.
"I'm really sorry about this." The scientist murmured, eyes full of remorse. "I really do like you Gwen, but if I don't get Peter, Mr. Osborn will—" He bit his lip, cutting his confession off.
"Peter?" She echoed. "What does Peter have to do with this?"
She took a step forward and Dr. Lahey jerked back, trigger finger shaking.
"Don't come any closer!" He shouted. "Just sit down and call your boyfriend and tell him to come."
"What are you going to do to him?" The blonde intern questioned softly. "Dr. Lahey, you don't have to do this. You can—"
A gunshot resounded in the room.
Gwen gasped in pain as she staggered back, her shoulder bleeding. Blood began to stain her pristine lab coat and a few crimson drops fell onto the floor.
"That's quite enough from you, Miss Stacy." Dr. Lahey growled, the fear melting into madness. "I told you not to come any closer, but you didn't listen! This is your fault! You don't understand what he's going to do to me if I don't get Peter here!"
"Dr. Lahey—" Gwen panted, the shock starting to set in. She was losing a lot of blood and losing it fast. The room around her began to blur, the colors melting into one another and the edges all becoming fuzzy.
"Call him." Dr. Lahey trained the gun on her head. "Or else you die."
That's when Gwen began to dial the familiar number.
Author's Note: Yes, it's a cliffhanger, but never fear! The next chapter will be posted very soon. It'll be worth the short wait too! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review if you have a moment.