Better Days | MCU IronDad AU

Chapter 12 ▬ Before Dawn

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
— CHAPTER TWELVE —
BEFORE DAWN

Just like all those days ago, Peter waited in the darkness of his cell, waiting for the guards to change their shifts. He could hear them muttering about the most mundane of topics, he could hear them itching to walk off and relax once their fellow guards came along to replace them.

He waited, his muscles coiled like a snake's, fluid and tense, begging to spring into action.

But he bided his time. He only had one chance, after all.

Peter shifted his weight on his feet, his senses perking when he heard the shuffle of feet down the corridors. He had counted, days and days ago, how long it took for the guards to swap, how long they had been absent from their posts. It was an average of one hundred and ten seconds, just bordering two minutes, and the last time Peter had smashed his way out of his cell had taken him one hundred and twenty-five seconds.

Peter would have to beat that time to make this work.

The guards' boots squeaked, and they started walking. Peter counted for ten seconds, letting them walk out of earshot before he swung his cuffed arms at the glass wall again with a loud BANG. He figured it was slower to swing both arms at once, but a sturdy set of cuffs were stronger than one, able to crack the glass much quicker; it worked just fine.

The glass crackled under the force of swings. Cracks grew from the impact points, spaced all over the glass. Thirty seconds had flown by.

Behind him, Peter could sense the wary glances Bobby and Angelica threw at him. He had briefed them in on the plan, and he had told them the first time he tried to break out resulted in an absolute failure. Peter really couldn't blame them on their hesitance, but if they wanted to leave, they were going to have to help him.

Sixty seconds down. The glass snapped and clicked, white lines spidering across the surface. Blow after blow, Peter concentrated on weakening the glass as much as he could until finally, he was at the end – one final swing would send the whole thing shattering. Freedom was within his grasp.

Peter stepped back.

And waited.

Eighty seconds down.

Peter glanced at Angelica through the small window, giving her a nod. Angelica smiled back tightly, her hair burning bright orange as if it were on fire.

And then Angelica yelled as loud as she could, 'Peter, what are you doing?!'

The sound footsteps momentarily stopped.

'Yeah,' called Bobby, accompanying Angelica's shouts with his own voice, 'what are you doing? Are you breaking out?'

Ninety seconds down. Twenty seconds left.

The sounds of people yelling down the corridors reached Peter's ears. Wordlessly, Peter leapt up to the ceiling, pressing himself against it. He had only found out he could still stick to surfaces; the only response that would be elicited from these actions were the mutant control device humming in warning, but never actually doing anything.

'Peter, stop!' Angelica yelled down the corridor.

'Yeah, man,' Bobby hollered too, vocabulary suddenly abandoning him.

Peter couldn't fault him for it – because, thundering down the hallways with their guns at the ready and yelling at each other to find the best way to neutralise Peter, were the guards.

Pressing himself to ceiling, Peter hoped the Parker Luck would spare him these precious five minutes.

'Parker!' a guard yelled, skidding in front of his cell. His voice dropped when his gaze landed on the cracked glass to the cell – the seemingly empty cell.