Lost Soldiers (Avengers Fan Fiction #3)

Chapter 3

The welcome the students were giving us was warm and inviting. I met with old friends, new students, and fans of the Avengers along the way. Before meeting up with Peter, I went to the tech lab and asked for help with a few things. The students' eyes widened and agreed instantaneously. They said they would give me a heads up when they were finished with the tasks.

I walked with Peter down the hall towards the library where Steve was supposed to meet us. The classes were in session, so the chestnut wooden halls were quiet and devoid of teenage life. The big windows let warm sunlight into the area and the light bounced off of some colorful art pieces that hung on the walls. The heating system turned on from its thirty minute cycle and provided heat to circulate through the vents. The cold snowy weather outside gave everyone a good reason to stay inside the toasty school. Beautiful chandeliers hung from the ceiling and dimly lit the place.

Peter hung his head and looked at his missing arm every once in a while. It had only been a few hours since we got here, but his mood plummeted after the excitement died down. He finally got a chance to breathe and take in what was truly lost to him. At some points during the silent walk, he sniffled, but didn't shed a tear. He started to mentally break down, so I had to keep him occupied. Peter denied that this happened and thought he would wake up from a bad dream, safe in his room in the Avengers' tower, but it never happened. He was stuck in this perpetual state of denial; the only thing I could do was give support and keep him going. If I let him be alone and isolated, that would be it. Peter wouldn't come out of his shell until he felt the need to.

I turned to my cousin and stated the first thing that came to mind, "I'm surprised you aren't worried about anyone seeing your face here."

Peter glanced away in thought about the threat. If it got out...Aunt May and everything Peter has worked hard to achieve would be under a great threat. He wouldn't let that happen. Not after what happened to Gwen. He nervously scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah...well, they'll have to answer to you if they leak the secret. Plus, they don't know my name or the fact that I'm your cousin. Only Logan knows that."

I bit my lip in thought and realized something. My face scrunched up in confusion as I questioned, "Wait hasn't everyone already seen your face? The government has video proof of it from when they captured us."

Peter faced me while walking backwards and smiled like the dork he is. His brown eyes lit up at his explanation. "Already many steps ahead of you, Lilly. After we escaped, the first thing I did was hack in and delete the evidence when we got to a computer. Nat helped me out with the hacking part. She's definitely a pro at that. So, anyone who's seen my face can't find me guilty. As far as everyone knows, Peter Parker is at his Aunt May's house attending online college courses."

"But you have also been missing those courses," I pointed out and made a sour face. I only wanted the best for my cousin. I never intended for him to get into this mess. He should've stayed home with Aunt May while the Avengers were being hunted down. He would've laid low as Spider-Man and lived his normal life. But nooooo. He insisted on coming with us.

Peter flipped around and walked forward in the same direction I was. He ruffled his short brown hair with his hand and groaned, "Stop being technical and ruining the moment. All right? I don't need to stress about this right now."

Peter scoffed and changed the subject, "Aunt May must be worried..." He took the burn phone when I handed it to him and dialed her number. He waited patiently, listening to the ringing on the other end. He smiled brightly and laughed when he talked to her. After reassuring her everything would be okay, she rambled on for about five minutes to catch him up on things that have been going on in her life. Peter listened intently and nodded a few times, even though she couldn't see him. He hung on to her every word, almost like talking to her provided an escape from his chaotic life. When he was done, he said his goodbye and handed the phone to me.