Spider-Man gave a pained groan as he nodded into wakefulness. His head pounded in pain, and he immediately tried bringing up his hands to hold it, only to find his arms stuck. The hero's eyes shot open. He was grateful for the tinted lenses of his mask, not only as an assurance that he still wore it, but it also dimmed the blinding glare of the lights on his unaccustomed eyes. Not that he could say he particularly enjoyed the sight before him... strapped down parallel to the wall behind him. What made it all the worse was the sight of the Avengers, the ones that accompanied him anyway, also bound in various fashions.
Spidey exhaled in frustration. If only he had known how this would turn out. But how could he have expected to? How could anyone think that a lowly Hydra wannabe could capture four of the Avengers plus company? Certainly not himself, obviously. But really it wasn't worth pondering anymore. Even so, Peter couldn't help but think of how he had ended up in this position.
"Okay," Peter said as he slipped his computer out of its case. He had dropped the backpack off in the room he had woken up in, "Let's get these jerks."
The costume clad teen opened the computer and with it the location of the Hydra weapon support base.
"JARVIS, download the address into my armor and pull up a visual." Ironman commanded. Seconds later, a holographic blueprint projected from the area on the suit's chest around the unibeam.
"This place is an old warehouse that was used before I was able to take over the clean up of New York after the alien invasion. It was sold off to an anonymous buyer after it was deemed useless to the city. Obviously city inspectors have been lacking if some person was able to make a weapons base here." Stark elaborated.
Hawkeye crossed his arms, "History lessons aside, how exactly do we plan on dealing with these bozos?"
The billionaire shrugged. "I don't know, hit 'em hard, strive to win. We're the Avengers. You know, World's Greatest Heroes? I doubt we really need an elaborate plan for these guys."
"Oh really, and how many successful missions have you had with that as your big plan?" Clint raised a brow.
"Hasn't failed me yet, Big Bird." Tony snarks.
"Speaking of plans, who plans on coming?" Asked Captain Freaking America. Spider-Man still had a hard time believing he was in front of a seventy-something year old war hero.
"Well, obviously I'm going. I've got directions. You in, Katniss?" Ironman teased.
"Fine, but only to bail out your tin hide when your 'hit 'em hard' plan ultimately fails, Stark." Clint smirks.
"I'm coming too. Thor's in Asgard and this isn't the best situation to Hulk out in, so I'll have you stay back, Banner." The Captain said.
"Fine by me." Bruce took a sip of his tea and nodded in agreement from where he sat at the kitchen island.
"What about Falcon?" Clint asked.
"He's on temporary leave. Something about getting away from Tony and Clint's tiresome sibling rivalry. That leaves you, Widow." Steve answers.
"I'll come." Was Natasha's short reply.
"Great, now that that's situated-" Tony began, but was cut off by Spider-Man's, "I'm going too."
"You sure about that, son? You'll be giving them exactly what their after." Steve warns skeptically.
"I won't let the people I just met fight my battles for me."
Ironman smirked, "You got guts, kid. Dignity, too. I like that."
In hindsight, maybe Peter's decision to "give the enemy what they wanted" wasn't the best thing after all. But hiding with his tail between his legs really wasn't his style. It wasn't his fault nobody could have guessed just how prepared the Hydra base actually was.
"Take out as many people as you can. Try not to destroy anything valuable. There may be useful information in their files or databases." Was the vague game plan from Captain Rogers.
"I for one would like to know what they needed New York's own friendly neighborhood wall-crawler for." Tony said with a glance in Spidey's direction. The iron suit blocked the older man's face, and Peter found himself wondering if he could interpret the tone of that comment had he been able to see said face's expression.
"They'll likely have something on house. If not, I'm sure talking to one of the lackeys will work just as nicely." Widow commented with an expression that was a creepy mixture of platonic and devious.
"Avengers, attack!"
"Well, this is embarrassing."
The other four heroes silently agreed with Tony. After all, they had just smashed through a window, guns ablaze, into the main room of the facility. It probably would have looked epic to those watching. But there was nobody watching. The room was empty. Only spare parts that nobody had ever bothered to clean up littered the ground, and even those were few and far between. Just metal heaps under dirty white cloths, collecting rust in the dank building.
"I don't understand. The tracer said it was here." Spider-Man's shoulders sagged in shame. He was pretty sure he had made a fool of himself and, by extension, the Avengers.
"Hey, don't worry about it kid. They real place that helicopter went to probably just has tracer interference that projected the signal to another street. We can go back and see if we can narrow down your tracker's actual position." Ironman assured sympathetically.
"What a waste of time." Hawkeye grumbled annoyedly.
"Let's scout the area just in case. Report back in ten." Captain gave the signal to move and the five spread out.
Spider-Man shuffled past the piles of what was essentially junk on the floor. He glanced over it, but it was really only scrap metal. He couldn't blame the people for leaving it behind. At least they had heaped the stuff into piles though. It wasn't just a carpet of junk. The piles were all perfectly proportioned sizes as well, not only that, but spread out in the room in such a deliberately diffused fashion it was surprising. It was the most... organized mess he had ever seen. Almost suspiciously so...
Peter kneeled down next to one of the piles and went to pick up a loose appearing piece of scrap. It wouldn't budge. It seemed to be attached to something in the pile. In fact, the entire heap seemed stuck together. Like it wasn't even a real stacking of parts, but more like some sort of... stage prop.
Spidey was doubtful of if his worries were founded. He approached the next closest pile of scrap. It had a sheet over it, which he promptly tore off and kicked the pile. This time, the pieces scattered. Hawkeye, the closest Avenger, spun around and grabbed his bow in a defensive manner. He glared at the teen when he had realized it was the spider that had made the sudden noise.
Spider-Man waved apologetically, looking rather guilty, despite the mask.
Okay, so maybe his suspicions were unfounded-
Something caught the corner of his vision.
The hero stepped nimbly over to the small device on the ground, picking it up. To his mounting horror, it was exactly what he thought it was.
His spider tracer.
And all at once, the implications of the simple device being there hit him full-force. "Captain, this is a-!"
The arachnid was interrupted by the sound of huge metal sheets sliding out of walls and floors. They covered every door, window, and wall in the room. Several layers of iron wall coming together with a clang left the five caged in.
"-trap." Peter sighed despairingly.
"I've got this," Ironman flew at the metal barring their way, blasting it with his repulsers on the journey, then giving the wall a solid punch once the distance was closed. There was hardly a dent. "Oooorr... maybe not." Stark rectified with a scratch of his head.
"Team, regroup." Captain America commanded.
The four ground-bound heroes gathered rather quickly, but as Ironman flew over, there seemed to be a complication. The billionaire yelped when the suit suddenly froze and reset to the standard coffin position. This would have been less of a problem had he not been midair. The man gave a warning shout as he torpedoed down towards the other heroes, then groaned when he landed with a bang and was now lying face-down.
"What are you doing?" Natasha was unamused.
"It wasn't me!" Tony exclaimed, "My suit was hit with a sudden barrage of hacking systems. I was able to fend them off, but my firewalls were down long enough for an EMP to get through to my suit. It will take a bit for me to reboot."
Nobody said anything to that, waiting. The silence became long and awkward.
"Well?" Clint snapped impatiently, crossing his arms as he walked over and nudged the suit with his foot.
"It'll take more time than that! A half hour at most." Tony rebuked.
"So you're just gonna lay there like a discarded tin soldier for half an hour?"
"I don't see why you're is such hurry, Big Bird. We're all trapped in here!"
"He's got a point." Spidey adds.
"Nobody asked you, Bug." Clint snapped.
"Let's calm down and find a way out of here." Steve placated. He walked over to Tony and heaved the armor into a standing position, so the hero no longer looked like a big toy.
"Thanks, Cap. At least someone around here is useful." He shot a glare at the bird themed archer.
Natasha rolled her eyes at their antics.
"It could be worse, you know." Peter shrugged, "At least nothing seems to be happening."
There was a sudden click that came from above the group. They looked up to see that several ventilation shafts had opened. To Spider-Man's dismay, there was a hissing sound that emitted from the shafts, and a bluish smog began floating down.
"Oops, spoke too soon." Peter rubbed his head guiltily.
Clint growled. "I hate you."
That was the last thing Peter remembered before waking up. It was safe to assume that smoke stuff must have been some sort of knockout gas. It must have been a strong dose too, for the hero to have been out through the whole process of being moved and secured. The Avengers were chained to the wall similarly to himself next to him. They were also awake. He could see that the others were without their weapons, and Tony without his suit. The cool air of the holding cell on Peter's hands told him his gloves were gone, and with them, his web-shooters.
Oh boy were they in trouble now.
Speaking of trouble... Spider-Man's Spidey Sense pinged lightly in warning that someone was coming, and without fail, the door to the cell was opened seconds later.
"Oh good, you're all awake." An orange-haired man in his thirties wearing a navy sweater and dark gray slacks walks in. "My name is Spencer Smythe, and I'm sure you all have many questions."
(AN:no significance to it being a Smythe. I'm just lazy)
"Why are we still alive? What is your game?" Steve demands.
"Wow, such a downer right off the bat. But a simple question, nonetheless. It's because I need you." Smythe pulled a foldout chair from against the wall and placed it so he could sit in front of the heroes a good three yards away, "More specifically, I need him." The man pointed a finger at the teenager in the room.
Spidey looked side to side, "Who, me?" He asks innocently.
"Yes." The man stated, unimpressed. "Now the five of you are going to listen as I get up on my soap box and give my villain monologue. As much as following the bad guy stereotype pains me, I'm much to vain not to brag my accomplishments before going through with them. I'm sure you can relate, Mr. Stark."
"Can't we just skip right to the part where I punch you out and you go to jail?" Peter looks to the side when Clint sniggers.
"Honestly, Spider-Man, I think may want to hear what this is about. It's bound to answer many questions."
"It's not the birds and the bees, is it? Because I don't need those questions answered. I'm perfectly happy thinking babies come from those little sesame seeds you get on burger buns."
The whole room gave the arachnid themed hero a weird look.
"What? It made sense when I was little." Peter defended.
Smythe shook his head, "Perhaps we have over-estimated your intelligence. No matter. As they say in theater, the show must go on. I may not be a man of the arts, but I know what I've worked for can't be stopped."
"And that would be?" Steve presses
"Right," Smythe smirks, "I suppose it is time for a story. Or rather, a history lesson. Fifteen years ago is when this all started. I met the symbiote, an alien substance with one purpose: domination. I first came into contact with it when a colleague of mine that was studying it was taken over. I could talk to it through him, and made a deal. I would help it get power, and we would rule the Earth. As insurance to the deal being kept, it told me all it's weaknesses. Since that day, I have worked to create the perfect human, with tremendous power and complete compatibility with the symbiote so that it could reach it's full potential. That perfect match is you, Spider-Man."
"Okay, one, I did not sign up for this dating website. I want a divorce. Two, you said you had to create your 'perfect' human, and last I checked, I was born from sesame seeds just like everyone else in this room. I wasn't created." Spider-Man protested.
"Tell me, Spider, what exactly do you know of your father's work in genetics?"
Peter choked.
Smythe smirked, "That's right, boy, I know everything about you. I know more about you than even you do. I know all about your father's work. You know why? Because I'm the one who provided him with the necessary RNA required to make a blueprint for his genetically enhanced spiders. A DNA produced from the same substance that makes up the symbiote."
"No..." Peter whispered.
"That's right kid, you have the symbiote's blood in you. Look on the bright side, I guess you really do have some living family now." Smythe's face showed cruel amusement.
Clam down, Pete. This isn't the worst thing that could happen. I mean, it's not like there's anyone I really have to protect anymore. If it gets out who I am it won't be the end of the world. It won't be fun either, but what do you do. And it's not like alien blood is so traumatic either. I already knew I had freaky blood in me, knowing it isn't exactly of this world doesn't change a thing. That's right, you can deal with this Spidey. It's not so bad.
The hero's self comfort served him well. This new information wasn't so bad. He could deal.
"Of course, then he had to go and ruin everything by running off with the formulas. And our efforts to retrieve them were less than successful. Not only did we lose the formula, but also the only man who could recreate it. All we had left of his work were a bunch of enhanced spiders that we couldn't use because they were only compatible with his DNA." Smythe stated offhandedly.
Okay, that was worse. "You-You killed them." Spidey growled.
"Oh please," Smythe stood up and walked forward so he was face to face with the furious wall crawler, "Their death is their own fault. They shouldn't have run. I warned them not to."
Spidey shivered in rage. If he got his hands on this man he would-
"At first, I was furious. All of my work, six years down the drain, all because a nosy worker figured out too much an was too righteous for his own good. I was convinced I'd have to start all over. But then, ohh this is too good, then you came along. Your father was such a focused man, always thinking of work while present. He never talked about his son. His son, for god's sake. It was too perfect. Just think, your father died to stop me from getting my perfect human. Not only did he fail, but instead of some other poor sap becoming the symbiote's puppet, he's forced me to make his son of all people fill that role! Isn't that just so... deliciously ironic? The greatest vengeance, my boy." Over time the man's speaking had grown more crazed and fervorous. The desperate look in his eyes was unsettling.
Smythe grasped Spider-Man's chin in a disgustingly gentle manner, and leaning in close to the teen's ear he whispered, "I'm going to make a monster of Richard's son." Peter quivered as the breath ghosted over him. He wanted, no, needed this man away from him now.
Smythe retreated to his chair just as fast as he had come, a smile donning his face.
"We had originally planned on taking you once you were a full grown man, just to make sure the affects of the foreign DNA from the enhanced spider wouldn't tear your frail and underdeveloped body apart from the inside out. Imagine our surprise when you ended up bitten by a spider ahead of schedule and turned out just fine! Of course, we couldn't come fetch you right away. We had to let you adjust to your body's changes. So, as much as I hated that b!tch of an aunt you were staying with, I had to leave you there for a couple years. As infuriated that I was at her damaging my future ticket to power, I let you go on. Then when I was finally ready to retrieve you the witch had to ruin it by chasing you off! Though I must say, it surprises me that it took such drastic violation to finally drive you off. You're persistent if anything." Smythe recounts.
Spider-Man was mortified. This man... he knew about that?
Smythe continued on unabashedly, "So of course you virtually disappeared, which made finding you much harder. Then you wound you a captive of some crime organization! And let's not forget that whole hero business. My, you were a busy boy. But no matter. You're here now, and I can finally gain the fruits of my last fifteen years of labor. Oh, victory is sweet!" The man was practically gushing. Gross.
Spidey glowered at Smythe, "I'll never help you."
"Silly boy," Smythe retorts smugly. "You don't have a choice, now do you?"
"As for you four," Smythe addresses the Avengers, whom Peter had forgotten about until just now, "You have not been forgotten. You have your own places in my plans. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a symbiote to prepare and an invasion to plan. Adieu." And with this, Smythe was gone.
There was only a brief moment of silence that was interrupted by Steve's stern voice.
"Spider-Man, I think you have some explaining to do."
*cringes* Wow... heh heh... it's been what? Four months? Bad author. I wish I could update more often. But the stress of all ap and honors classes really gets me. This is much easier to update in the summer... T-T
Lateness aside, I need some super honest feedback here, guys. One, should I continue this story? Two, I need to know what I need to work on with my writing skill. I would appreciate it deeply if you could throw out even one thing that brushes you the wrong way. Am I going to fast? Do I need more filler? Do I need to right more descriptively? How difficult is this for you to picture? Does my writing paint a picture or do I need to describe what is happening better? Do I need to work harder on keeping things realistic? Do I explain the reason characters do what they do well enough? Do I need to work on really differentiating characters from each other, because I feel like they all act exactly the same? Anything else?
All seriousness aside, I need to thank you all for the wonderful response I'm getting! (This is aimed for , not wattpad) I'm a nobody on wattpad. But seriously, I've gotten at least 20 comments and 60ish favs/follows since just last update! I love you guys so much! You make my day, thank you! I hope to see you next chapter. Jaggy out.
~Sayonara
