home ; peter parker

chapter fifteen

After the night with the Avengers, Peter had been driven back to his apartment by Happy. It was a long drive, which resulted in Happy having to sit through Peter mindlessly ranting.

The car stopped in front of his apartment, and he chewed on his lip, hesitating a moment. As always, he thanked Happy for driving him. Peter slid out of the car, shutting the door gently and walking up the few steps to the front door. He opened the door and stepped inside, giving Happy a thumbs up before he watched the sleek black car drive away. Closing the door behind him, he made his way up the stairwell. He unlocked the door to his apartment and turned the doorknob, pushing the door open ever so slightly.
Thankfully, all the lights were off. Peter carefully walked in, wincing as the floor creaked underneath him. He relocked the door and pocketed his keys.
     Thus begun trying to quietly tiptoe to his room.
     When he made it, he flopped out on his bed in relief. 'I'll have to deal with May tomorrow,' he thought, letting his eyes adjust to the room. If she was asleep, that meant she only knew that Peter was late, not how late. Because he was out later than his curfew, he would most likely be forced to endure a punishment.
'Stupid,' Peter thought to himself, sighing quietly. He'd usually been careful. There was nothing he could do about it now.

     Peter sat up on his bed, staring into the darkness. He glanced out his window as he was undressing, and stumbled over to it to look out. It was dark, obviously, and no one was out. He didn't feel very tired —mostly because his patrolling usually went far into the night, and his body was adjusted to staying up late— and May was asleep, so he carefully suited up and opened his window.
A chill rushed into his room and he slightly shivered, getting goosebumps underneath his suit.

Peter ungraciously slid out of his apartment window and stuck to the wall, closing his window from the outside and shooting a web so he could swing away.
     "Hey, Karen," he greeted.
     "Hello, Peter."
     "Any crime around?" He asked, guiltily hopeful.
"There's a robbery nearby. Here are the coordinates." The coordinates popped up in a little screen off to the side for Peter to examine.

     Peter swung through the streets, unbothered by the chill rushing past him. When he landed, he took a moment to address the scene before him.
It was just some people robbing a bank, nothing that Peter hadn't seen.
Peter opened the glass door and stepped into the bank, noticing that the robbers weren't paying much attention to him. He coughed, getting their attention. The moment they turned around, he disarmed them, snatching their guns out of their hands with his webs and flinging them to the side. He shot a web up at the ceiling and pulled himself up just enough so that when he swung through the air, he could kick one in the face. He then proceeded to do exactly that.

     After finishing up with the robbers (tying them up and calling the police to handle the rest), he shifted to his next task. Karen was constantly notifying him of more crimes and deeds that he took care of. After a lot more tasks, Karen was momentarily silent. He was pretty tired at this point, so he used this to take a short break.

Peter swung to the nearest tall building. He dropped down when he was in mid swing, making him skid across the roof when he landed. Sighing in contentment, he plopped down. He swayed his dangling legs off the ledge where he sat as he let himself mindlessly wander.

Until his spidey sense prickled him with alarm.

     "Hey," a voice called; and though the wind swept most of it away, Peter's enhanced hearing picked it up easily.
"Why?" He muttered to himself. 'Just when I was at peace,' he thought, slightly irritated. He pushed himself up with a grunt and put his hands on his hips, staring at a line of people.
The assassins, to no one's surprise.
     "Parker," a man greeted gruffly. It was Eight, the one that Peter found rather harsh compared to the rest of the group. If you asked Peter, it seemed like he was jealous of Two for being second in command.
"Hey, the gang's all here!" Peter remarked as he shifted his eye contact to each of the agents he had met so far.
Two, the second in command who had tried kidnapping him, Four, the fierce and intimidating one with an attitude, Eight, the grumpy big man drenched in scars, and finally Five, the bubbly one (Peter didn't know much about Five, but there was probably another side of her that he wasn't seeing). It was an odd group to be in charge, but maybe they had something Peter couldn't see yet.
Whatever the case, he needed to figure out what they wanted.
"We need to discuss some things," Two said, stepping forward, revealing what Peter recognized as a tranquilizer gun. "I suggest you cooperate with us."
Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events.
"What do you mean?" Peter asked, subconsciously inching away, holding his hands up in defense.
"Four," Two spoke, his voice telling Peter that it was an order. His spidey-sense prickled at him just as he looked over to the woman. Before he could register what was happening, a dart buried itself into Peter's shoulder. He stumbled backward a bit before regaining himself and immediately swinging into action. He realized quickly that he wouldn't be able to defend himself against four highly trained assassins.
     "You've been shot by a tranquilizer gun. Should I alert Tony Stark?" Karen said calmly.
     "I-" Peter was cut off by an uppercut punch, which left him even more disoriented. Before he could recover from the last blow, he was punched in the chest, hard. He fell to the ground, stunned and unmoving, a result of being hit in the solar plexus.
During the ten seconds Peter was down, the assassins had secured him to the ground by stepping on his limbs. He didn't appreciate it, to say the least. When he recovered from the last blow, he tried to squirm out of his predicament. However, he found himself paralyzed in fear when Eight cocked a gun and aimed it at his head. There was no way he could knock it out of his hand when he was pinned down like this.
     To Peter's dismay, he began to grow limp. The tranquilizer dart was doing it's job. He couldn't say anything to Karen, or he would be shot in the head. 'Fantastic,' he thought, before slowly fading into unconsciousness. It was quite uncomfortable for him to slowly sink into blackness with a herd of assassins staring down at him, just waiting. It made the process seem even longer, and more embarrassing.

author's note;
yikes i'm bad at updating sorry about that. school, y'know? anyways, happy october! :) <3