Doomed

Chapter Four

Peter was about to walk through the turnstiles at the subway station when he realized he didn't have a working Metro Card. Mostly because he never took the subway and travelled everywhere by web.

Dammit, why did Steve have to insist that I walk back to the lab?

"The last thing you need to be doing is drawing attention to yourself," Steve had said. "I've already made some calls. The streets will be clear on your way back. No trouble you need to worry about. If something changes, I'll call you personally."

Peter slumped his way out of the building, nearly taking a few floor tiles with him as he shuffled his feet. Rather than being able to look up and know where he was by the buildings and landmarks in the Manhattan skyline, Peter was instead forced to try and remember cross-streets and subway stops. This did not do well for him, as he was an hour and a half later getting back to his lab than he would have been.

He slammed the file down on his desk, and immediately picked it up again, checking it for damage. He knew that the contents of that file made it one of the most valuable items in the world. He knew whole countries that would gladly wipe out their neighbors for just a glimpse of whatever was in that folder.

Hands shaking, Peter set the dusty old file back on his desk. He stared at the U.S. Army insignia, his thumb resting on the tab. After a few seconds, he pursed his lips and opened the cover. To his great surprise, the inside didn't start glowing and melt off his face. Instead, it was full of musty and yellowing pages: medical test results, most of which were massive failures; a page with a photo that looked something like Steve, along with a basic bio; a page of pre-and-post serum administration exam results. No formula for the serum itself, which Peter had known would not be there. It was no secret among the Avengers that Erskine had memorized the formula for the Super-Soldier Serum, and that his death had rendered Steve the only one who would receive the treatment. Still, Peter had hoped that the serum was what Steve had been talking about.

After a few more pages of Steve's exploits with Bucky and the Invaders, the yellowed sheets ended. Peter imagined this was the time period where Cap was encased in ice. But instead of the next page being the Avengers thawing Steve out, it was instead the Army's attempts at recreating Erskine's research, most notably with Frank Simpson, alias Nuke, a maniacal and schizophrenic individual augmented with cybernetics and a second heart. Steve had told Peter that the file wasn't actually his, exactly, but was the Army's file on its Super Soldier experiments. Peter had thought Steve was the only Super Soldier alive, but dozens of pages showed nothing but failure after failure.

Peter flipped through the rest of file, not finding anything that could help him with Carol's case. Frustrated, he threw the folder back onto his desk and bent over to pick up a slip of paper that had fallen out of the back. Opening the folder from the back, Peter saw something that looked strangely familiar. Resting against the back of the file was a folded, browned sheet of white paper, one that looked like a flyer. Reaching out, his hand trembling, Peter took the paper and unfolded it. "Oh, God, you've got to be kidding me."

Unfolded, the flyer read: "Science Exhibit. Experiments in Radio-activity. Open to the Public. Room 30."

Peter didn't realize that he'd crumpled up the slip of paper in his hand for a few minutes. His brain was still trying to process the information. This flyer was outside the room where the spider bit me. He leaned back, but forgot that he was sitting on a stool. His ability to maintain equilibrium kept him from falling, but he felt like he wanted to crash to—and through—the floor.

He had to wonder if the demonstration had been some kind of plant. Had they wanted someone to be bitten by the spider that day? No, there's no way could have scripted something like that so perfectly. A random spider crosses into the beam and bites someone? Definitely not a plan. But what, then?