The Hunger Games: Multi-Verse

The Last Night (Peter Parker)

Everyone had been telling Peter that his interview had gone excellent all during dinner. 

"The Capitol loves you," His mentor cooed, "You're sure to get many, many offerings in the arena." 

This made Peter feel a little better, but that didn't change the fact that he was still entering the arena the next morning. Even if he was destined to be showered with gifts from sponsors in the arena, that didn't change the fact that he could still very well be killed in the bloodbath. 

So he felt some confidence, but who could truly feel confident entering the arena? 

But he also felt slightly guilty. Peter loved Black Widow and Clint, but he found that he was the only one of the four Marvel tributes getting showered with compliments by the prep team. He couldn't help but feel ashamed for some reason, or embarrassed. 

When dinner ended Peter went back to his room and was sulking for a solid while until there was a light knock at the door. 

"Peter? Can we come in?" Natasha's voice gently asked. 

"We're coming in." Clint's voice sounded more assertively mere moments before the door swung open. 

Peter quickly wiped the part of his cheek directly under his eye. He hadn't been crying -- he was sweating from his eyes. There was something in his eye. Something like that.

"Hey, guys!" He greeted in his raspy voice, attempting to sound optimistic. 

"How are you holding up, Peter?" Clint asked, sitting next to him on the bed. Natasha sat on the floor in front of them, cross-legged. 

Peter shrugged. "It's a little intimidating. You'd think after all we've been through, we'd be fine with this, but . . ."

Natasha nodded. "It's way different than anything we've other experienced. It's an entirely different motive and reason to fight. We understand completely." 

"Are we going to team up in the arena?" Peter asked, voicing the concern in the back of his mind. 

Clint scoffed. "No way. I'm ditching both of you tomorrow." 

Peter whipped his head concernedly towards Clint, who shook his head. "Peter, I'm kidding."

"Oh." Peter smiled a small grin and looked back down to Natasha. 

"We're all just going to try our best to get out. The fact of the matter is that not all of us are. But we all have a fair shot at it, and we're going to try our best. And kid, if somehow it's us three in the end, you're living." Natasha promised. 

Peter frowned. "What?! Why me?"

Natasha and Clint shared a quick, knowing glance and then both looked back at Peter. "Don't play dumb." Clint said. 

Peter held a shrug, defending, "I'm not, I just want to know why you guys assume it's going to be me!" 

"First off, you have supernatural strength that neither of us have. Second, the Capitol clearly loves shiny, young, weirdo Peter Parker who can do flips and swing through the air and is attractive and likable. You are the preferred option. If me, the forty year old quiet man with deadly accuracy beats you out, I'll forever be hated." Clint stated. 

Peter let his shoulders droop. "Sorry." 

"For what? It's not your fault we're here. It's not any of our faults." Natasha said. Peter nodded. 

"This sucks, guys." He said. 

The two older Avengers nodded in agreement. "Majorly." Clint added on. 

Then the door bust open once more. "Tributes!" Shouted a guard as two guards ran in, "In your own quarters! You are not to be by yourselves without an attendant!"

"Damn, I was just going to kill Natasha." Clint whined as the guard walked him out of Peter's room. 

"See you tomorrow, Peter. Get some sleep." Natasha ordered as she walked over the threshold. 

The door slammed shut, leaving Peter to his worries about the next morning.

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