Chapter Text
Peter’s brief disappointment at the fact that he was going to be back in that cramped cell was put on hold when a new person walked into the room. His senses roared in the back of his head, and his stomach dropped.
It would be one thing if another Avenger that he didn’t have much experience with joined them on the tour. He would be a bit nervous, sure, but it wouldn’t be that bad. The fact that he recognized the person that walked into the room made life a lot harder.
Because this man, Bucky Barnes, was someone he was well familiar with. He had the displeasure of training with him during the man’s brief time at Peter’s Hydra home facility.
Just his luck. “Parker,” Barnes said, eyes roaming over Peter, scanning him for changes. Peter could see the way the man's eyes caught on the tattoo sleeve that was partially exposed by the short sleeve.
Even through the fabric, there was practically a hole being burned into the spot that housed his Hydra mark.
Tony whipped his head back and forth between the two of them, eyes wide as if he was watching some pro tennis match or some shit.
“Wait, you two know each other?”
”No.”
”Yes.”
Peter and Bucky spoke at the same time, before staring at each other. Peter had to force himself to swallow, the glint of light catching on the metal arm and reminding him of the cruel training sessions he was forced through, in which his advanced healing would truly be tested.
“Okay… that’s really inconclusive.”
Dragging a hand down his face, Peter sighed. “We trained each other occasionally back in Hydra.”
Bucky snorted. “That’s putting it lightly. I was forced to beat the kid up.”
Suddenly, the mood in the room dropped even further, as if such a thing was even possible.
“Buck?” Steve asked.
Bucky hunched his shoulders in, making the once formidable Hydra soldier look like something more human. It sent Peter’s emotions twisting in a curled, spiked ball in his gut.
“He was training as part of the spider program, and I was used as an opponent.” Bucky paused. “He has advanced healing, so I was told to hardly hold back.”
All the eyes in the room landed on him, and Peter shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Uh, yeah. You know, helped me out I guess.”
“If it makes you feel any better, that wasn’t me,” Bucky said. There was something so sincere about his voice— the almost apology— that Peter had a hard time holding a grudge.
“It’s whatever. Not like I haven’t done worse to people weaker than me.” He could physically see the way that Steve cringed, and Natasha’s eyes darkened.
“Wait, that makes you Spider-Man, right? How’d you get out?” Bucky questioned, finally putting the pieces together.
And man, if that wasn’t a loaded question. “Um,” Peter started. “I haven’t really revealed that yet.”
“By all means, go ahead,” Natasha said, a twisted smile on her face.
“Hah, good one. It involved a lot of death and crawling on the ceiling. Long story short.” Peter shrugged, even if his heart raced at the memory of blood coating the sterile white floors and walls of the facility, of the panic-inducing hours in which he stealthily crawled over the scientist’s heads as they searched for him.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to break out of the cuff and run. He was sure that despite not dampening any powers, there was some sort of tracking device in it that would make it rather difficult to slip into the shadows.
“We still need to talk about the whole killing people thing,” Tony said, drawing some of the attention away from Peter, though the man’s eyes were on him. “From what I’ve seen, it feels almost out of character. There’s no trigger words floating around in your head, right?”
This caused Peter to huff out a laugh. “Thankfully not.”
Tony dramatically wiped a hand across his forehead. “Thank goodness. That would’ve been a lot more work. Murder intentions, go.” He pushed his hands out in a go on gesture.
“I mean, it’s not like you guys don’t kill people either. I kill the worst of the worst. It’s what I’m used to.”
At the mention of killing, Tony and Steve seemed to wilt slightly. Natasha stayed with her expert level poker face, but that much was to be expected.
”I mean, inadvertently yes. But we try not to, and you just going out to kill kinda kills the vibe. Makes us less inclined to let you go at some point,” said Tony.
“To be fair, the kid has been killing since he could walk,” Bucky chimed in.
Steve glared at Bucky. “That doesn’t excuse anything,” he chided.
Bucky threw his arms up. “I’m not saying it does. I’m just saying he might not realize killing is that wrong. I know for a while it was hard to view people I was fighting against as people.”
”I think I can speak for myself, thanks. And that’s not the case with me,” Peter inputted quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. His thumb traced over a dinosaur tattoo nestled into the side of his elbow.
With a raised eyebrow, Bucky responded, something condescending to his tone that Peter didn’t like. “No? You don’t occasionally feel like you’re different from everyone else? That the people you fight on patrol aren’t actual people, but marks and numbers in your head? That sometimes it’s easier not to feel, so you don’t feel at all?”
Well. No, that was untrue. It had to be untrue, because Peter was gone from Hydra, which meant that he was good now. The nightmares were one thing, but the conditioning still sticking with him had to be false.
Everyone was looking at him expectantly, and Peter didn’t have an answer. He could say no, but he had a feeling that they would figure him out pretty quickly.
“I want to go back to my cell,” Peter said, forcing his voice to stay cold. Already, he could feel his emotions creeping out of his mind like they normally did when they were too hard to deal with. The thought alone made everything worse.
“Oh? You want to go back now?” Tony asked sarcastically. Peter sent a glare to the man, who shrugged. “Fine, yeah. Let’s just ignore this impromptu therapy session and let the child soldier keep doing what he’s doing.”
“Tony,” Natasha chided, sending Stark a stern look. It was a little funny to see the way the man immediately backed down.
Peter was walked back to his cell, that apparently had gotten something of a makeover while he was gone. The sheets were fresh and neatly tucked into the cot, and there was a rug and several boxes of puzzles now on the floor.
He tried not to feel like a dog going back in its crate as he went inside and listened for the telltale hum as the door was sealed. Peter could still see the Avengers staring at him, and he knew damn well it wasn’t a two way mirror.
“You guys can leave now,” he said, venom dripping in his tone. He needed to be alone right now or he was going to lose it. Damn the Winter Solider.
The Avengers filed out one by one, with Tony staying behind for a second. He stared at Peter, opening his mouth once before closing it again. “I’ll have dinner delivered soon,” he said finally before walking out, leaving Peter alone.
Peter flopped back first onto the cot, wheezing when it did not in fact bounce under him, causing the air to rush out of his lungs. He should’ve expected that.
Running a hand down his face, he stared up at the ceiling, the fluorescent light burning a spot into his vision. The words that Bucky said played back in his head against his will.
It was a lot to think about. He’s gone so long telling himself that he’s free from Hydra because he got out. In fact, most days he tried to push Hydra out of his mind, as if it were a bad dream rather than a horrific upbringing.
The growing headache ringing in his skull forced him to drop the subject. He turned away from the security camera in the corner and pressed his face into the pillow, willing sleep to claim him so his train of thoughts would end.