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Peter Parker knew, really knew, that pound for pound, he was a tough 15-year-old. Knowledge of which did not help much when a 90-year-old man in red, white, and blue spandex threw him across a room. Or when a woman, almost his size, left him with bruises all over. And except for the humility of it, he loved every minute.
The weekends at the Avengers facility were made for training. Peter was able to spar with actual heroes, and have the bruises disappear before school on Monday. Thank heavens for a healing factor!
Captain America had put forth an active schedule, both to improve their skills, and to understand how everyone fought. A study of styles helped to understand peoples’ strengths and weaknesses, so someone was not put into a position they couldn’t handle.
Peter fell into the first group. He was learning to actually fight from some of the best trained people in the world! He was also learning several different combat styles.
The combatants fell into two categories: Tech or Enhanced. Tony, Sam, Rhodey, and Natasha utilized tech to aid their fighting, although Natasha was one of the best hand-to-hand fighters around. Steve, Wanda, and Vision all had enhanced capabilities. Steve, Wanda, and Vision had special abilities without any kind of tech, although in Vision’s case, he might be considered the tech… Anyway, the battles were made as fair as possible. Some of the battles were one on one, and some were team drills.
No one trained with Bruce, because of the possibility of breaking things, such as the training facility, the Avengers themselves, or Upstate New York. Besides, the Hulk had his own style that really couldn’t be duplicated.
Because Peter needed the most training, and he recovered faster than most everyone else, he got the most intensive time in the training room. If he had his options, he would spend his whole weekend in there. His time away from the training room was almost as good, however, as he got to spend time in the lab with Tony or Bruce, and have Vision help him with his homework.
Today was even more special. It all started Friday night when Peter reached for one of his favorite magazines. He put down his plate of pizza – “plate” being relative for a growing spider boy portion – and absentmindedly moved stuff off of the magazines, including what looked like, in all honesty, a rather large mallet. He had just picked that up to deposit it on the floor when his acute spider senses detected something strange. Not dangerous, but different. It was quiet, deathly quiet, as if there was absolutely nothing else in the world with him at that moment. Peter looked up to see everyone in the room staring at him. No one was speaking, or breathing, apparently. They were gaping with open mouths, eyes shifting between him and the mallet-thing like they were watching an intense tennis match. Upon further thought, he realized he was holding a Scientific American in one hand and the Mighty Thor’s Mjolnir in the other. He quickly set them both back down, looking up with wide, startled eyes.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The God of Thunder recovered the fastest, leaning over to pound the boy on the back heartily, perhaps a bit harder than warranted. “My young arachnid comrade! Few in the Galaxy are able to wield mighty Mjolnir!”
The rest of the Avenger’s all spoke at once. “Pick it up again!” “Let me try!” “How can he pick it up?!” And Tony’s, “I knew it!”
After several more attempts of picking up Thor’s Hammer, Peter succeeding and everyone else failing, the God of Thunder slapped him on the back and congratulated him. Somehow, that led Peter to, right now, in the training room, facing the God of Thunder. And every single person in the tower, Pepper included, was watching.
The only advantage was that the training room in the new facility was much larger than in the tower in New York. It had a ceiling 50 feet high, in range for Peter to jump to, and out of reach of a normal combatant. This had allowed space for some aerial training from the Falcon and Iron Patriot, and now gave Peter room to maneuver, and, if absolutely necessary, cling to the ceiling out of Thor’s immediate reach.
The training sessions had helped Peter immensely. His use of his spider-sense was becoming more fine-tuned. He was able to plan his actions several steps ahead, and sometimes predict his opponents’ moves even before his spider-sense started, for lack of a better word, tingling. This allowed him to react less and act more. Each training session let him learn more and more about combat, this one included.
He quickly learned that hitting the God of Thunder wasn’t fun, since it hurt almost as much as getting hit by him. So, he spent most of his time trying to confuse him with rapid direction changes and a litany of web related attacks. At one point Peter had managed to web the Thunder Gods feet together, which gave him the chance to pivot and land with both feet in the middle of Thor’s back. That, combined with the webbed legs, sent the God down onto his face, with a loud cheer from all the on-lookers.
His agility couldn’t hold a candle to Thor’s experience, though, seeing as how most of his attacks were met with a defensive swat or a clean miss as the God anticipated his movements. Thor, thankfully, was not using Mjonir inside the training room, not only for the safety of the onlookers but to also prevent squashing a spider.
Peter tried sending a taser down his web lines, but the God of Thunder only laughed and sent electric shocks back up the lines to Spider-Man.
Thor hummed as he cut off the current. “As I was recently reminded, my hammer allows me to focus my lightning, but the power is still mine.”
Peter was in a heap in a corner, “Yep, should have known that one.”
Before Thor could advance on him, Peter scrambled into position and leapt 12 feet up onto the wall and then over to another wall, where he turned his web shooters onto Thor in a rapid-fire mode. Thor’s hand came out and crackled with energy and the balls of webbings dissipated in flashes of light.
Peter flew across the room, never pausing, never giving Thor a chance to attack. It worked for several minutes, really an eternity in battle time, until Thor stuck his hand up, grabbed a web, and yanked on it before Peter had a chance to get anchored. He crashed to the floor in front of the Demi-God, who laughed.
“Well done, my young friend. Truly a battle for the ages! Your agility and speed are difficult for my style of fighting. I can see where the Captain and others have improved your skills!”
“I’m just glad you left your hammer outside,” Peter admitted, finally getting to his feet with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “That wouldn’t have left a bruise as much as it would have gone through my chest!”
"We will, however, have to train in another area to see if Mjolnir will answer to your commands,” Thor continued, like Peter had never said anything. He stroked his chin, almost as an afterthought. “It would be strange to fight someone who could also wield the same weapon...”
The God of Thunder shook his head and turned toward the watching crowd, “You have done well with this one! He fights like a man possessed. It is difficult to know what to expect next. And his strength is impressive for one so young.”
There was distant clapping and cheers from the assembled heroes, and Thor clapped him, yet again, on the back. Thor, the God of Thunder, who had just complimented him.
Peter had never had a better day.