Drowning In Oxygen [2] {Sequel}

~ Three ~

"Don't worry, kiddo. If you fall, I'll always catch you."

And it was times like these in which Peter was glad for the times random Tony quotes popped into his head.

"And if I don't catch you... Well, you can always rely on the floor, right?"

Peter had laughed. Now, he realised all he had to catch him was the floor.

"And if the floor fails... Wait. Where do I go from here? And to think I was making a really meaningful thing here."

Those times were far behind Peter now.

(And to think, that had only been a couple of months ago.)

The best part, though, was when Tony accepted him. Accepted that he was Peter and Spider-Man, and nothing could get rid of the spider part of him.

Well, except for a few painful science experiments, but Peter was certain that Tony wouldn't even think about doing that to him.

At least, he hoped he wouldn't.

"Well, I guess if the floor fails, then I can just swoop right in, catch you, then yell at the floor for not doing its job."

The grey walls around him seemed to loom in on him. Mocking him.

Why? He didn't have a clue.

He suddenly wondered why the walls were grey. Surely the walls had been white at one point?

Maybe something had happened to the other people in this place to... change it.

Maybe the other people had changed it.

Maybe there weren't even any other people here at all and Peter was thinking too hard and he just needed to stop.

He wanted to go home.

"Food."

That was the first word that had been spoken to him for a while. How long had it been? He didn't know.

"Thanks, you know, I was just starting to get peckish," Peter said, giving the guard a grin. It wasn't Esther this time. This guy was new. "Being starved kinda does that to you. I didn't know either!"

And yes, Peter was immensely proud of the evident sarcasm in that comment.

"Quiet, brat," the man hissed, clearly not in the mood for Peter's (clever, in his mind) comments.

"Okay, okay, sheesh, people really have no manners," Peter said, rolling his eyes and he grabbed the food and sat with his back against the (grey, grey, grey) wall.

Stale bread. He wondered if it had gone stale a couple of weeks ago or a couple of months.

It wouldn't make a difference anyway.

"Just one last question, if you don't mind? I mean, I'm gonna answer it anyway, I just thought I'd ask to be nice," Peter added, the man groaning at the thought.

"Get it out quick, boy, unless you want another punishment. Say... well, we'll have to leave it to the master for that, shouldn't we?"

In the dim light, Peter could see yellow teeth trying their best to give him a grim smile.

"I'm good. Anyway, I was just wondering, you know, it's been a while, how long have I actually been here for? It's not like I have a watch or anything, and I'd like to know. Please?"

Peter added puppy eyes for good measure, which seemed to make the man decide to tell him (and yes, Peter had tried to use the puppy eyes to get out. It didn't work).