Chapter Six: Tower
"PETER!"
!
Peter lurches the moment his vision fades, instinctive terror leaping up his chest in a violent thrill as he shoots out his arm on instinct, the web tendons leaping through the air and spreading across an invisible back in a tent despite the odd angle, caught. Tony?
Without thought Peter yanks, pulling the man back with frantic force and dragging him back into the freezer until he's suddenly wedged, unmoving as metal hauntingly groans. C'mon Parker, wake up, wake up wake up wake up-
"Kid," Concrete crumbles to the ground, both of Translucent's hands having shot out to grab either side of the doorway, stopping his momentum dead as his feet dig craters into the floor, his growl vibrating against the web tension like shotgun recoil. "Let go!"
"Don't you fucking let go Peter-!" Billy bellows with guttural venom and fear from just around the corner, a subtle but so stark fear that hit's Peter across the back of his head, lolling him forward.
Oh.
"You.." Peter blinks, peeling his eyelids up again as his stance slides wider on the ground as his back hunches, foot precariously wedged in the peaking frame of the door, the only thing keeping his leverage against Translucent's. He can feel himself fading again, faster than he can right now… He needs to- "You Promised…"
!
Translucent laughs spurningly after a moment of heavy silence, the sound peeling out as if he tipped his head back to look down at him, the leer sounding as vivacious as his tone. "Holyshit, Peter. Are you fucking retarded? No, look, kid, you're obviously fading- you can't keep this little act up for much longer. Think about it, how mad do you really want me to be when your grip inevitably slips?"
The others are quiet, so quiet, too quiet. A ringing takes over his left ear, the passing horn of the subway when someone steps just a little too close-
Breathe.
Peter breathes. Bracing on the ledge of the doorway, he uses Translucent as his counterweight to pull and shuffle himself to his feet. The burning in his lungs dims, faint chemical vapors feel like they're whisping out of his throat, the splotches still weighing heavy on his tongue suddenly flavorless.
"I've.. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but… I'm sorry." Peter laments. His achy muscles wind tighter as his spiking adrenaline zaps the sluggishness away, primal instinct a second limb and it's winding back. Peter is alone, a thousand shards of moon hurtling towards him.
His spidey senses seesaw as chainsaw grinds against his every being, forever, and wrong. The overwhelmingly suffocating presence of Titan.
!
"...You should have gone for the head."
Peter uses the taut web to hurdle himself towards Translucent, springing up near the lip of the doorway as his arm slinks over the top of the man's invisible head, wrapping his neck in a loose chokehold in one swift movement. The man can't so much as force the entirety of his chuckle out as Peter reaches over his webbed and waiting hand to his other one, connecting them with a clap.
Ultimate Tensile Strength has become background radio static in Peter's life the past two years, another part of breathing.
He jumps, kicking off Translucent's back and sending the man flying forward at the vigor, web stretching like a skip rope between his hands as Peter shoots off in the opposite direction.
In. The unforgivable pull of gravity. Out.
One wrong move, one inaccurate measure, one second slip and the average human body would disintegrate beneath the grasp of momentum, paralysis, decapitation, dust. An apple core ripped out.
Tension spreads across the cord of web at contact, jerking the both of them backwards as Translucent's grip blows out from the kick. Peter's back slams into the cage, unhinging some bolts and shuttering the box, threatening to yank out completely and tip as he's shoved down the edge of it, Translucent thrashing in his grip, unseen horror staring out.
In. He created this batch of webs in the chemistry lab at school during lunch last week, him and Ned giggling over something stupid. Out.
Translucent chokes and thrashes, hardly a gasp. His invisible neck slightly indents, a column of reinforced rebar being tested but it's enough as he wraps around a second and third time, pulling his arm up and winding it closed like his corded gym bag.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Peter stares at the foiled ceiling through the metal bars, having fallen through the open door of the cage at some point, the small doorway flap harmlessly bouncing to a stop against his thigh now that Translucent isn't wildly thrashing against it.
"Peter!" He jolts back awake, woozy with panic. How long was he out? Wake up, I- wake up, get up now!
Peter unwraps his slackened web from around the man's neck, shoving him off of his lower half and leaning up out of the cage. His fingers curl around the wiry bars as he drags himself to his feet, the pressure behind his eyes pulsing and momentarily blacking his vision like paint splatter.
Frenchie swallows as they make eye contact, peeking up at Peter from his place on the ground only a foot out from the door of the freezer, shoulder melded to the pavement like tar. MY webs. He almost died, stuck…
"Peter…" MM looks over his shoulder at him, face hard and unreadable as Peter leans down silently, hauling up the invisible man by hooking his arm around the man's limp stomach. "Peter. Peter, don't. Just- You're in shock right now, you- What are you doing?"
"Petit Peter, just, wait a second," Frenchie breathes, face tight as Peter's feet spread, bracing himself as he pulls Translucent over his shoulder, muscles screaming in protest, feeling atrophied. He stands, woozy as he waits a moment, his hold tapering towards secure. Just- one foot in front of the other, right Parker? "What are you doing!"
"Fuck."
"Where are you going to go? Huh?!"
"FUCKING HELL-!"
"You can't leave, kid!"
"Peter!"
"D-Don't go- You- You don't know what you're doing right now-!"
"PETER!"
Peter squints against the harsh bright white as he creaks the door open upstairs, stepping outside of the diner and leaning against the adjacent brick wall with a ragged breath. Sweat peppers his temple, Translucent's invisible body a steel beam of warmth over his shoulder, pressing into his cheek as he starts walking down the cobble driveway, swaying occasionally.
It's too bright but black dots still swarm his vision like bugs, making him twitch as they flutter too close, he can hear the shrill of cicadas, the squeal of the grass, a lawnmower from a block away humming right behind the shell of his ears as he stumbles further and further away from the diner until he can hardly recognize what's wavering in front of him, a single, encouraging thought spurring him forward.
I wonder… what MM's daughter's name is…
"Peter."
!
Homelander tilts his head at him like an owl, a tight smile on his face. Peter twitches, gaze snapping to the red gloved fingers drumming on the headrest of a chair just in front of the man, the leather creaking as the pattern suddenly stops and he presses. "So nice of you to finally join us."
Peter blinks slowly, groggily looking around the unfamiliar room and staring. What…?
Incredulity and fear zip through him with a sudden lurch of his chest as he stares at Translucent, spidey sense at soldiers attention. His fingers automatically spread, curl and dig around the chair's arm rests they had been limp on, blooming awareness harsh as a slap. "Huh…?"
"Wo-oah there bud," Peter's focus snaps onto the man, hypervigilance waking from dormancy and tingling beneath his skin like a chill, snaking up his spine. The heavy cloud in his chest fades to a dull ache as his heart starts to beat faster and faster in his chest, threatening to tunnel its way out.
Homelander's smile widens. "There you go. Nap times over now."
"H-Homelander…" Peter swallows thickly, voice winding thin and airy under the man's thousand yard stare. "U-Um, hey…"
"Hey buddy," Homelander's uncanny smile drops along with the faux friendliness in his tone, jaw stretching as he releases the chair to step around it and towards him. Peter muscles coil with a twitch at the sudden shift, nervously glancing around the room again as his skin sheens, perspirant as his own chair wheels back a smidge as Homelander grabs his headrest, leaning into his space.
Psh, nothing to worry about, it's just H-Homelander, Peter. Nah. I'm fine. Fine.
Homelander's blank face suddenly breaks into a charismatic grin above him, looking Peter from head to toe as if inspecting for the remnants of their encounter last night. "Looks like you've got some serious explaining to do, young man."
Peter's nervous gaze skitters across the V shaped table, landing again on the unconscious, visible Translucent propped up in a chair of his own, his mouth slightly hanging open from the odd, tipping angle of his head, eyes closed. Thankfully the table is covering his, uhh, lower region...
"Nuh uh," Homelander clicks his tongue sharply, cheek twitching as he leans back as Peter's attention whips back to him, breath stuck in his throat. His spidey sense skitters, scrambling his thoughts before sentences can fully form when they really need to be, like, right freaking now man. "I'd be worrying a bit more about yourself right now, Peter!"
"After all, it's not everyday a little scamp like you manages to make a fool of a member of The Seven, a supposedly indestructible one too, at that! Color me impressed."
Peter swallows because Homelander's color seems a lot more angry and murderous than anything, the leather of the headrest groaning and bending beneath the man's fist behind his head, far too close for comfort.
As if spurred by the absent thought Homelander's wrist brushes against the curve of his head and Peter jolts. "W-What?"
"Oh, don't be so modest, Peter, it's quite the feat to accomplish. In fact, it's practically unheard of. So, you can see how this has put us all in a, how should I phrase this, very disagreeable, very precarious, situation."
Homelander's hollow chuckles send warning fritzes through his systems, and for once in his life, Peter has no idea what to say. "Not only have you already knocked our polls down by Eight. Fucking. Points. with this stunt and still counting, but you've permanently tarnished The Seven's reputation in a way that I simply just cannot let slide. Do you even realize how much blood, sweat and tears go into keeping up our appearances Peter? All the lives you're jeopardizing now because you wanted your five minutes of fame?"
When Peter doesn't respond, can't respond, Homelander releases his chair with an abrupt sigh, stepping away to return to his former spot at the head of the table. His cape billows to a standstill as he returns his hands behind his back in that loose soldier's position, tipping a look of plain contempt towards the hapless Translucent. "Though even I have to admit that this is not entirely your fault given the footage and this dumbasses loud fucking mouth. Translucent's actions aside, maybe this was simply an act of fate, good timing, whatever you want to call it."
Peter can only frown as Homelander sends him a look out of the corner of his eye, confused but intimidated enough to keep his mouth pursed shut. Clearly he had passed out at some point with Translucent slung over his shoulder, but that doesn't explain why he's here right now... With Homelander.
What happened to those other guys, did Homelander track them down? The sky is dark outside the barred windows of this conference looking room, clearly hours have passed. His webs would have long dissolved by now…
"Who is Karen, Peter? I looked into it. Looked into you, too," Homelander turns, giving up the pretense of pretending not to stare, eyeing him up like a puzzle. Homelander doesn't really seem like the type to have the patience for puzzles. "No Karen Parker or Peter Parker to be found, imagine my surprise."
Peter shifts under the attention, unsure. He feels stripped bare without his mask, and it really does not help that he's never been good at lying. "I'm uhh, I never said… that Karen Parker is my mom…" He says quietly, carefully. He's yet to see a flash of red and is going to count his blessings while he still can.
Homelander hums and Peter allows his tense shoulders to settle a bit as he takes a calming breath, spidey senses tingling up his spine. The anticipation was almost starting to hurt. "So, who is Karen then Peter? Girlfriend?"
"Um…" Maybe a little honesty might… sway Homelander towards, you know, not crushing his skull with his gloved fist or anything. "Well, the thing is… Karen is-was an A.I that I-I made… Kinda like Alexa, like the Google assistant program… Yeah."
"An A.I?" Homelander tips his head in thought, brows narrowing a bit onto him as if to suss out the lie, probably in tune on the sound of his racing heart. "You made?"
"Yup." Peter pops the word out, nervously rubbing his hands together as he swallows. Sorry Tony. "W-Well, she was based off of somebody else's work, so, I can't take all of the credit, obviously…"
"Obviously." Homelander simpers after a moment with a listless little smile, rolling his eyes with a sigh as he shakes out his head. "Peter, you are just so gosh darn cute. You really thought I might actually believe you there for a second, huh?"
Peter can feel every negative emotion he's ever felt plummet into his gut as red sears to the surface in front of him but they do not breach, simmering just below. Homelander's eyes are glowing promises, the red dot of a sniper rifle and it's making Peter hot all over. Flee, flee, hide, run, dust, dust dust dust DUST-
"It's lucky enough for you that I have just so happen to come up with the perfect solution to wave away both of our problems." Homelander smiles somewhat serenely, hand raising and seemingly completely unaware of his hyperventilating. "Just like, that." Snap.
Peter flinches, the thudding of his heartbeat clogging his throat. Just like… that.
He knows he needs to calm down. Knows that he needs to be rational and stand back up. Needs to be Spider-Man. Thanos is dead, been dead, will always. Be. Dead. He's dust not-not him.
So why can't he move?
"I've seen you glancing towards the paper in front of you Peter. You must be curious what that's all about." He tacks on, mocking after thought. "Since you're so smart, right? Well go ahead, don't let me stop you. Take a look."
Peter does but it's entirely too difficult to focus on the words when there is a red glow illuminating them and even then he doesn't get longer than a few seconds before Homelander steps forward and spreads his palm over the main paragraph, leaning against the table next to his chair.
"Legal drabble, boring stuff really, I doubt you'd be able to even understand a lick of it. All you need to know is that The Seven has been missing a member for a while now, and you're the perfect replacement, Peter Parker."
"Here you go kiddo, now just sign here, and here, oops, duh, you don't want to forget about that one over there. Make sure to dot your I's and cross your T's, annnnnd I think, you're done!"
He never quite learned how to do cursive so he's left printing his name with the pen forced in his grip, every letter sinking his shoulders further. There isn't a single point in the process that Homelander isn't hiding a part of the paper with his gloved hand, seeming almost nervous all of a sudden even though Peter is the one shrouded in red and being coerced into signing a mysterious contract. There go all of my organs. Man, is Aunt May going to be mad if she ever finds out.
Aunt May…
"Naw, see, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Peter stays silent as the red glow is immediately lifted from Homelander's eyes and the pen is taken from his grip, the paper snatched up. He still feels the prick of that oppressive heat anyway as Homelander scans the contract with a raised, satisfied brow. "Has anyone ever told you that you write like chicken scratch? Sheesh."
A pause. Homelander's leg brushes against Peter's chair as he turns towards him again. "Nonetheless, you did a good job. Don't sweat it, we have plenty of time to work on your autograph."
Now would be a really great time to wake up Peter.
Homelander seems to fidget on the spot under his resigned stare, before demanding. "Say something."
Peter blinks roughly, shifting a bit in his seat as he looks down to his hands in lap as he bites his lip. His eyes are not stinging and he is not going to cry.
He's conquered death, fought many foes, in space, lost many he shouldn't have, saved so many more, it makes it all almost bearable. He's dodged a freaking moon for crying out loud!
It's just a stupid piece of paper. It-It doesn't even mean anything! Peter's not even from here. There has got to be some, kind, of, well, multiversal law loophole around this sort of thing, of some sort, at least, right? He should still have his rights…
Right?
"Stop faking and own up to your fuck up, you fucking pussy." Peter's heart lurches at the sudden, threatening tone but Homelander's gaze isn't focused on him anymore. Translucent sits further up in his seat, swallowing as his nervous eyes flicker between the both of them. His throat is peppered in a thin, wire band spread of dark bruises and Peter feels sick.
"Yeah, you're right, I did fuck up. I'm-I'm sorry, Homelander…"
Translucent's apology trails off as Homelander steps away from the table, gesturing towards the naked man with a cluck of his tongue and the flapping piece of paper. "Yeah, you really did. Tell me, you stupid fuck, what in the fuck you were thinking attacking a fucking kid in fucking public? Oh-ho-hoo, and-and not only that, but how in the fuck did you lose?" His words taper off into a stricken, seething hiss, reminding Peter of echoey sewers.
Petrified, Translucent shakes his head rapidly, shooting his hands up in that universal sign of please wait. "I-I- The kid-"
"Shut up." Homelander breathes heavily through his nose as Translucent's mouth snaps shut. "I'm going to be honest with you Translucent; I don't care. I don't care what you have to say, what case you have to plead for yourself. You seem to have… missed something fundamental, about your being here."
Homelander slinks closer, leaning over the edge of the table into Translucent's paling face. "You are fucking nothing. As replaceable as every other sorry fuck who thinks they have what it takes to be a member of The Seven. I mean, Starlight filled Lamplighter's empty position before his seat even fucking cooled. Easy as that."
"Now, I just have one, measly question left to ask you, Translucent, buddy, you fucking liability. Why should I keep you around?"
Red hauntingly illuminates the room once more, the brush of warmth, instant torch. And Peter sees it all now. Sees Translucent's death, lasered in two. It didn't matter what he did. That he tried to fix his mistake.
Either way he led this man to his death.
"Homelander." Peter resolutely does not flinch as he's made the focus of Homelander's ire, feels his frustrated tears dripping off his chin as he drops his head down towards his lap again, cowed. "It-It was my fault… He-"
Peter swallows thickly. "He… Was just defending himself…"
"Peter," Homelander starts slowly, almost sounding fond as he shifts in his peripherals. "You do realize I can tell when you're lying, right kiddo?"
"Fucking LOOK AT ME!"
!
Peter's head snaps up as his skin crawls backwards alongside his chair, the aborted movement does nothing short of guide him into Homelander's hand as the man grips his suit and hauls him into the air. Peter gasps, grasping wildly at the hands holding his toes off the ground until he's back in those sewers again, Homelander's vengeful face obscuring any horizon.
"Oh, Peter. Peter, Peter Peter Peter. Saving people won't make them love you, kiddo. Buy your fucking movies. Take care of you. Trust me. In fact, I should be the only man you implicitly trust."
Homelander's smile is cruel and everywhere and Peter briefly wonder's if it'll be the last thing he ever sees. "There is no, no god, up here, Peter, looking out for good-intentioned creepy crawlies like you, no, the only one in the sky is ME."
Wake up, please wake up wake up-
"And it's about time you learned to fucking respect that."
Peter doesn't realize he's flying through the air until his back is cutting through thick, metal reamed bars and smashing through a thin wall of glass.