Last time, in the exciting adventures of... oh forget it.
The captured vigilante began to painfully push himself off the ground, but froze when his spidey sense when off. A second later a hand pushed his head back down to the ground, and pinned the rest of his body.
A disembodied voice growled, "Who the hell are you?"
Peter gave a nervous chuckle. That hand was too close to his mask for comfort. "Double O Seven. Britain's finest agent. License to kill. Mixing business with girls and thrills." he said in a poor imitation of a British accent.
The man lifted his head and slammed his face back down. "Try again."
"I'm Batman?" The vigilante tried.
"Is this a joke to you?!"
"Only funny thinks are jokes to me, sir."
The enigma growled.
"Okay, okay! Have you ever heard of Spider-Man?"
"Is that who you are?" The tone was suspicious.
"Yep! The one and only." The unseen grin was infallible.
The man got off of Spider-Man and allowed him to get up. Peter took a second to examine the guy. He looked to be in his mid 40's, about 6' 8'', and probably a good 200 or so pounds of muscle. He had brown hair in a faux hawk* type style, blue-gray eyes, and frown lines in his brow. He was wearing a black Kevlar suit with an array of pouches. There was a symbol of a bird on it that Peter thought he should recognize, but he was too out of it to give the emblem much thought.
Peter did, however, have the mind to recognize the man in front of him. "Hey, aren't you one of those Avenger guys? Ya know, the ones who stopped the invasion on New York a few months back?" Peter remembered that little event clearly. He had had a little... incident with his aunt earlier that one day. Even if he wanted to fight, he doubted he could have. Not to mention the fact that if he was caught saving people by his boss, he would have been fired much earlier than he had been...
The Avenger grunted, "That's classified." Peter guessed that the confidential part was that he was Hawkeye, not the part on him being an Avenger. The whole world knew who was in the Avengers during the alien invasion. Or maybe nothing was classified and he was just being a prick.
That was probably it.
"Hey, you're that vigilante that showed up a couple of days ago, right? The morning news won't shut up about it." The newly dubbed Hawkeye asked.
"Classified." Peter responded, to which Hawkeye rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever. What are you doing here anyway?"
"I could ask you the same, birdy." Peter responded blandly, leaning back on the wall behind him.
The Avenger glared at the nickname. "Ladies first." He smirked.
Peter gasped theatrically. "Questioning my manliness on the first date? How rude!"
"Widow has a manlier figure than you, stickboy."
"Hey, being a bit thin has its advantages. I'm super flexible. I'd like to see you fit through an air vent, fatty." Peter scoffed.
Hawkeye glared at the younger hero. "I'll have you know this is all muscle. I doubt you could even draw an arrow with those lanky limbs. And I fit in vents!"
"Prove it." Spider-Man raised a brow challengingly.
"Why you little-" The man seemed to hold himself back from continuing, taking a calming breath, "You know what? This is stupid. I don't know what those creeps put in me, but I'm obviously not thinking straight if I'm wasting time arguing with some punk rather than planning for escape. I don't care, so you can just do you, kid."
Spidey took a second to mull over the other hero's words. He did have a point. Quips and insults, no matter how witty and amusing they were, weren't gonna help them out of their dour situation. All it was doing was making them disregard the problem in a rather irresponsible way of trying avoid the seemingly hopeless odds of their escape.
There was a moment of awkward silence, and Spider-Man shifted a bit uncomfortably before hesitantly muttering, "I don't know if this will help at all, but... I met with the boss awhile ago. He said he plans on selling me for science purposes or something, and since I was stuck in here with you, it's probably safe to assume they are planning on the same for you."
Hawkeye spared Peter a glance. "Technically, assuming that is impractical, especially since I have no inhuman abilities, but it's a definite possibility."
"Why else would you be here?"
"Dunno, maybe a crazy super villain wants to brainwash me and force me to assist in his evil plans, or something."
"Hey, how did you even get captured in the first place? Aren't you supposed to be a super strong avenger?" The vigilante was genuinely curious. How does one go about capturing the legendary Hawkeye?
Said hero glared in an almost defensive manner at the younger, "I don't see how that's any of your concern. Things like this are in my job description." Peter thought he detected a flustered hint in the others voice, but before he could comment, the man threw him off with his next question.
"I should be asking you why you're here. Shouldn't you be, I don't know, partying and studying in college or something? You can't be much older than 23 at the most. What the hell are you doing in the vigilante business."
What is this, an interrogation? Peter gave the older a piercing stare, and while it couldn't be seen, it most certainly could be detected. The other either was ignorant enough not to notice, or he didn't care, based off his lack of reaction. The latter of the two was more likely.
"As you said, it's none of your business."
Hawkeye raised a critical brow, "It was just a question, no need to get so defensive, kid."
"I'm not a-" Spider-Man gave a quick push off the wall he was leaning against so he could stand straight. However, it was a bit too fast, as one of his bigger bruises gave off a painful throb to make itself known. Peter couldn't stop a wince as he choked down a whimper.
"There something wrong?" Hawkeye looked a bit suspicious at this.
"'M fine. I heal fast. It'll be gone in no time."
Spidey REALLY hoped something would happen soon. He didn't feel comfortable with how curious this Hawkeye guy was being...
If Spider-Man knew what would happen soon, he wouldn't have made that wish. He would have happily stayed in that little cell forever.
(Should I rewrite that? It felt kinds contradictory and out of character...)
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
"I've gotten a report back from the mole stationed it that crime organization Peter might be connected to." Layla had just gotten off the phone a few seconds ago. She had been talking while her husband was eating breakfast. He, only having heard half of the conversation, had gathered as much. He didn't know much else other than that.
"So? What did they say?" Richard sipped his coffee casually.
"Well, technically, it's what did my connection say the mole said. I obviously don't have clearance to make requests to the mole directly, so I had to pull some strings." Layla poured herself a cup of coffee, the Starbucks* brand, as well. She'd need it.
"Details." He waved his hand flippantly, "Come on, what did they report? Is it bad?" The man interrogated.
Layla sighed, "It's definitely not pretty. So, the mole went back through the files again, looking for anyone with abundances of missing information, and he found one. Get this, there was no information on the guy, the file was completely blank. Not even a name. But there was a picture, and a couple aliases. The original alias that was recorded was 'Phantom'-"
"You mean that unseen criminal that hasn't been heard from in awhile?" Richard cut in.
Layla glared, "Yes, shut up and let me finish. The picture was of Spider-Man, and the second alias said so. The interesting thing is, the file said Spider-Man's employment was terminated before the the 'Spider-Man' alias was even added to it."
"So Spider-Man didn't make an appearance until after he quit working for him." Richard concluded.
"Right." Layla nodded
"So what? How does Spider-Man's sudden change of heart help us? This isn't really putting Peter in the best light either." Richard stated while leaning against his fist that was propped up by his elbow on the table.
"That's why we're solving this in secret. We know Peter is a good kid. He probably didn't want to be involved in anything shady. He felt forced."
"I know that, I'm just saying. The courts won't be to happy about this." Richard found a sudden interest in the far wall.
"Let's hope they're forgiving. Anyway, that's not all the leak had found. Apparently, Spider-Man has been captured." Layla gave her husband a knowing glance.
The male startled a bit, "The organization has him? Why?"
Layla swallowed hard. "They plan on selling him. The trade is going off at one of those multi-story parking lots. The one on Bridge St., and it's happening tomorrow night."
Richard looked worried, "Layla, this is turning out to be more than we can handle... maybe it would be best if we-"
"The police can't be involved! If they are, I have no doubt they'll take Spider-Man. He's the key to finding Peter, Dick. Trust me." Layla interrupted.
"I understand that, but we won't be much help without a plan." Richard reasons.
"That's where you're wrong! I do have a plan. We go to the lot before them, set up a few sleeping gas bombs, blow 'me when the time is right, and Presto! One Spider-Man, coming right up." She said cheerily.
"That idea sucks." Richard deadpans.
"Does not." Layla pouts.
Richard pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fine, whatever. Is there anything else we should now? Who is he being auctioned too?"
Layla frowned, "Actually, according to my source, the mole had known, but right before he could tell her, he cut himself off, saying he had to go before disconnecting."
"Great, so we're going in blind." Richard huffed.
"Technically, we're not 'going in' at all. The sleeping gas will do the job for us." Layla amended.
"I've got a bad feeling about this..." Richard sighed.
(Lol, that was worse than the first part! Is it just me, or are Layla and Richard way to dumb to be SHIELD agents?)
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•
~A day or so later(the evening before the trade off)~
Spider-Man and Hawkeye sat in silence for most of the time they were locked up together. They weren't given anything to eat or drink, which hadn't done much good for spidey's healing factor... the burns from the cattle prod still stung, and while the bruises were gone, he was still incredibly sore. His spidey sense also was a constant tingle in the back of his mind, making his head uncomfortably numb.
Hawkeye, on the other hand, seemed fine. Other than the place on his neck he would occasionally rub as if to banish the soreness, he didn't appear to have any visible injuries. Spidey wondered how much resistance he put up... it didn't seem like much. Then again, maybe he couldn't fight at the time. A hostage situation perhaps? Whatever it was, Spider-Man was just glad that Hawkeye was of relatively good health. Peter was pretty sure he could still handle himself, but if he had another injured man to take care of, chances of escaping would have dropped to an almost zero.
Speaking of escape, that is exactly what Spider-Man had been contemplating when his Spidey sense increased in strength, and not a moment later the metal door came clanging open. Three men, not surprisingly dressed in dark colors and wearing shades, came in with guns pointing directly at the heroes.
"You're going to stand up and come quietly. No resistance. If you try anything funny, there will be a bullet in you so fast your head won't have the chance to spin before you're dead." The one in the middle grunted as the two stood compliantly.
They were led through a few twists and turns and out into a large parking garage where they were shoved into the back of a large, dark green van.
Hey, at least they were original. As long as it isn't black.
Peter wasn't sure how long the van was moving, but it felt like forever. The atmosphere was so tense, Peter was worried he'd choke to death on it before he could escape. That's why, when the vehicle finally came to a rest and the back doors were swung open, Peter didn't know if he should have felt relieved or terrified.
The two of them were shoved out of the van and greeted with the sight of an empty parking lot, looking to be on the fifth or sixth level, based on their height in comparison to the next door building.
While observing his surroundings, Spider-Man had slowed in step. One of the men with the guns shoved him forward impatiently, muttering, "Keep moving."
Peter stumbled forward a bit, thankfully not falling as his foot shot forward to catch himself. Oddly, rather than a slightly louder thud, from bringing down his foot harder than normal, there was a sort of... splat.
Spidey glanced down at his foot, expecting to see a puddle of water, though that was odd, considering the lot was sheltered. It was a puddle alright. When the vigilante processed the maroon shade of the liquid, he yelped and leapt out of it. The man who had shoved him gave a cruel sneer, "Oh, that? That's just a leak that had to be... plugged.* Better be a good boy, don't wanna end up like him, do you?" Was the man's snide remark.
Peter swallowed hard. He would have to be careful. It wasn't just his life in danger here. Hawkeye would die too if he screwed up. The blood just went to prove how serious these guys were. Not that the hero really doubted their ruthlessness in the first place. He had, after all, worked with them for a time.
Moments later, a black van came cruising into the lot from off the ramp, taking its sweet, sweet time. Imagine that. The bad guys driving a black van. Once it got close enough, Spider-Man could just make out what was written on the side of the van:
HYDE AND DREW'S
PLUMBING SERVICES
The vehicles pulled to a stop about ten meters away from where the three men with the two heroes stood. The double doors on the back opened. It was not a plumber, disappointingly, that came out. Not that spidey really expected Mario and Luigi* themselves, or anything. No, instead, four men, each carrying some high tech fire arms, jumped out. One man in the front, not the driver who seemed to have opted to stay in the van, also opened his door and got out. He had an expensive looking black suit on, wore black aviators over his eyes, and his black hair was greased back out of his face. Oh, and get this: he was equipped with a... wait for it... black attaché case. Peter, in that moment, decided that he hated bad guys. He also hated the color black. When, or if, spidey got out of this, he knew a major costume change would be in session.
A guys from the front seat of the van Peter came in stepped forward. He held a cigar and wore khakis. For what it's worth, He could say he liked his old employer's company more. That didn't say much, but hey, at least they were original.
"You have the money?" The man with the cigar, apparently the leader, questioned.
Peter discreetly looked around at exactly what he was up against here. Three guys holding the heroes, all holding what looked like a Colt M4 Carbine rifle. Two more people flanking the man with the cigar also carried this rifle. Cigar man himself had a Glock 22 poking out of his pocket. The vigilante wasn't sure what in hell the four men on the opposite side were holding, so he assumed they weren't anything standard. The more unknown, the more dangerous. Peter would keep a close eye them. Speaking of close eye, he noticed a familiar symbol on the uniforms of the four lackeys with the big guns. Was that an... octopus? Six tentacles, rounded head. The head was weird though. Peter squinted. The head almost looked like a skull...
Spider-Man realized at that moment that he was boned. Anyone would, if they discovered they were about to be a captive of Hydra.
Spidey's will to escape suddenly tripled. It was now or never. He had to escape before the trade happened, or he was doomed.
Spider-Man looked around for something, anything, that could help him. That's when he noticed what the guy in between himself and Hawkeye was holding. While the other two men held guns to the captive's heads, the third has his rifle pointed towards the ground in one hand, and in the other, the hand only half a meter from Spidey's own, was his web shooters. They had apparently come alone for part of the trade.
The question was, how to get them and not be instantly killed. Peter stole a glance towards Hawkeye, who remained rigidly staring forward. Not to mention that if Hawkeye wasn't ready to move when the arachnid- themed hero did, he would get shot as well.
In the brief seconds it took Spidey to think all of this, the man with the case had opened it up and displayed the stacks of bills from within, "One million, as requested, for both of the captives." His voice was a monotone that not even a robot could pull off better.
There was a sudden crackling sound, one of radio static, and the Hydra man in the black suit raised his hand to his ear, "Please excuse me for a moment." It was less of a request and more of a statement, the way he said it, and pressed a button on his ear piece.
"It's Jacobs. Report." There was a short silence as the newly named Jacobs listened to the person on the other end. There was a slight twitch in his frown. "I see. Bring them here."
As soon as Jacobs hand lowered from his ear he produces a hand gun seemingly from thin air and pointed it at the cigar man, who looked decidedly shocked. Simultaneously, the two flanking Cigar pointed their guns at Jacobs, the Hydra men behind Jacobs pointed their guns at the two flanking, and the one extra man in between Hawkeye and Spider-Man, who had pointed his gun back at the Hydra men. The two with guns to the captive's heads looked extremely tense.
A classic showdown.
"What is this about?" Cigar queried smoothly, as if there wasn't a lead bullet pointed directly towards his heart.
"The guard I left to ensure we weren't interrupted just called in. He found two unknown persons slinking around the floor below us. I'm sure you were made aware of the consequences of double crossing us..." Jacobs trailed off as he clicked the safety off of his gun.
"I assure you, this was not a setup of any sort." Cigar convinced calmly, "We would make no profit in assisting law enforcement."
Jacobs made no sign of belief or disbelief, but hardly took notice of that when he saw the two people walk in, a guard in between them with a gun trained to the back of the female's head.
Peter's head was spinning. Why? Why were they here?! His guidance counselor and her husband...
Layla and Richard Bateman.
What were they doing here?
The couple were led over two Jacobs, who shifted to point his gun at Layla.
Please don't.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to interrupt a meeting? Who are you?" Jacobs growled.
They stayed silent.
The man growled. "Very well," He signaled to the guard who bright them in. "Kill the girl."
Stop! You can't!
"Richard and Layla Bateman. SHEILD agents." Richard interrupted, and the dark man in front of them held up his hand in a motion for the guard to stop. Peter just noticed he Jacobs had put down the attaché case.
"Good. Where are the rest of you?"
"There's only us." Richard began.
No, not again. Please, not again.
"We're technically on leave. SHEILD doesn't know we're here. It was a self-appointed assignment." The husband finished.
"Oh? And you planned to stop the trade how?" Jacobs questioned sardonically.
Suddenly the guard stepped forward, "I found this on the girl."
Make it stop.
It was a little black box. "What does this remote do?"
"Triggers a sleeping gas bomb." This time it was Layla.
"You're telling me two SHEILD agents came with a half-a**ed plan and no backup and expect to succeed?"
Just this once! Please stop!
Layla's twisted scowl and blazing glare could melt a persons face off. Your a piece of ****!" She spit.
The man smirked humorlessly, "Thank you for your cooperation, agents. Have a good day.
Two shots rang out.
Why? Why do I have this curse? Why do you make me suffer!?
Two neat, red holes in the center of the forehead.
Two thuds of a body hitting concrete.
Two sighs as the air was pushed out of the lungs from a last breath.
The sound of death.
Never again.
Jacobs turned back to face Cigar. Guns in the room lowered, all but two, that is.
"So," He smiled, but there was no emotion behind it. Only a slight pull on the corner of the lips, imitating the mangled form of an apology. Apologies for the slight delay in business. As if a secretary had just interrupted to bring him coffee, or a document statistic. As if he hadn't just taken the lives of two good people. "Shall we continue?"
I can't get close anymore. To protect them from myself. From my curse.
Peter choked on the sound of distress that had wanted to escape. The sound of pain from seeing one of the only people that cared die.
He didn't even hear the sound of metal on rock. Didn't see the guns, all but two, swivel in one direction. Didn't feel the slight breeze kicked up by their entrance.
"Don't tell me you started the party without us?"
Lol DEJA VU! I totally need a new way to end chapters... like, not on a cliffhanger perhaps? XD
Yep, I killed the Batemans! I know, BAD,BAD AUTHOR!
IMPORTANT QUESTION! Should I add Bucky into this?
Now for those astrids... you know, the *. I'll do them in the order they appear.
*I cross referenced a few hairstyles with the one that Hawkeye had in the avengers movie, and too my surprise, the one that fit closest was a hairstyle called 'Faux Hawk'. Ironic, right?
*I don't own Starbucks
*you picking up what I'm putting down, or do I have to hand it to you? Basically, they discovered the mole and killed him. That's why he had to go in the middle of the information swap.
*Isn't Mario a plumber?
And sorry this update came so late... I'm really lazy.
Thanks to to those who dropped a comment!
Le Random Reader: Avengers should be next chapter
all the others: Thanks for your awesome comments! If there are any questions you want answered, just type them below and I'll answer the following chapter.
But please comment! It's my main motivation! I didn't plan on updating today, but someone left a comment on my account and I had enough inspiration from just that to write the last 1,500 or so words.
~Sayonara
