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Chapter Text

*Snap*

Danger. Get out!

Pain. Absolute pain. The pain of every atom in his body simultaneously ripping apart and healing back together. He looks around, watching those he knows and loves turn to dust around him. They look confused, no indication that they’re experiencing the same world-ending agony that he is. They have no healing factor. Not like Peter Parker. 

“Oh, I should be so lucky.”

His body fights to keep him alive. Fights with everything he has. The pain stretches for eternity, making him wholly unaware of his surroundings. He might be rambling, speaking some unknown words, he doesn’t know. And then everything, all that pain, was for nothing. He feels his body lose the battle as everything begins to fade, one small whisper escaping from his lips. 

“I’m sorry. ” The words choke in his throat, and he’s gone. 

-

Peter wakes up to the chill of rain splattering against his face. Opening his eyes, he takes a deep breath and is immediately hit with an intense pain flashing through his body. A groan escapes his lips as he rolls himself over. God, it felt like he was crushed under a building. No, worse. He’s been under a building before, this was decidedly worse.

Taking another breath, he holds it as he pushes through the pain and sits up. He’s half-lying in an alleyway surrounded by garbage and what looks like used needles, broken here and there. The walls stink of old piss and there’s a faint chemical smell to the air. Gunshots ring out everywhere, paired with faint shouts and screams. All in all, it’s quite possibly the worst place on the planet, wherever here is…

He placed his hand against the admittedly disgusting wall to use his stickiness to pull himself the rest of the way up. But he found no purchase and fell back to the ground with a thump. 

Ok, weird fluke, he doesn’t remember ever having an issue controlling his sticky powers. At least he can’t think of a time he’s ever had an issue. Everything feels muddled, maybe he had a concussion? 

He tunes into his spidey sense, feeling slightly more exposed now. Only no familiar awareness greeted him. 

Ok, now he’s starting to panic. He takes stock of himself and notes the slightly blurred vision, the lack of city sounds that would normally be pounding into his skull, and a tightness to his chest he faintly recalls having with asthma. 

His breathing picks up, fear pulsing through him. He’s in an unknown and obviously, dangerous location with apparently none of his spider powers. He wouldn’t be able to defend himself. He wouldn’t be able to fight.

His heart thumping in his throat, Peter stands himself up on shaking legs and stumbles to the mouth of the alley. Finding a newspaper stand with a shattered face, he pulls out a slightly damp paper. 

Gotham, New Jersey.

Oh, he is in the worst place in the world. How the fuck did he end up in Jersey ?? Really, what the fuck was going on. 

Turning down the mostly unlit street, he began making his way, barely keeping himself upright. He just wanted to get to the outskirts of the city as fast as possible. To get away from whatever fresh hell he was in.

He stuck to the shadows as much as possible, trying to stay unnoticed from the few other people he saw on the street. The rain continued to soak him through, and he shivered, hugging his arms in front of him for warmth. 

He was wearing unfamiliar clothing, but nothing out of the ordinary: a science pun T-shirt, jeans, and some basic black sneakers. He’s confused, the last thing he remembers wearing was … was something. It was his, he was sure. He was wearing his suit? Why was everything so fuzzy?

He was with people. Like a lot of people. He knows he knew them, their faces coming to his mind just blurred enough to not quite be able to put his finger on it. They had been in danger. He had been in pain. But as hard as he tried, it just felt like he couldn’t make the full connection in his brain. Like all the pieces were there, he just couldn’t drag them together. Nothing was making sense.

And ok yeah, to be fair, he really wasn’t at the top of his game at the moment. Peter was so deep in his internal musings that he barely registered the sound of a car driving behind him before something was thrown over his head, and his world went dark with a prick to his neck. 

-

He awoke to darkness and a jostling as he lay in an awkward position on what felt like a metal floor. Something was still over his head, obscuring his vision. His hands had been tied behind his back, and his ankles were connected by something, a rope maybe. 

Swallowing the fear in his throat, he listened around him, noticing faint whimpers and shuffling. It felt like he was in a vehicle of some sort, and he could feel other people’s arms and legs against him on the ground. Someone was talking a little bit away from him, and he struggled to make out the words over the rumbling of the road. 

“...there shortly, 16 captured, 100 total… next phase … tonight. … again tomorrow for the … bracket.”

Ok, so that doesn’t sound all that good. Peter tugs fruitlessly against his restraints, ultimately giving up and just trying to get into a more comfortable position. 

He feels the vehicle make a turn onto what has to be the most pothole-filled street in the country. He hears surprised gasps and even a few muffled screams as they bounce along, but the stretch of road doesn’t last for long. 

The vehicle stops, and the engine cuts out. What’s left is an oppressive silence as he and everyone around him wait with bated breath, unsure of what is to follow. 

The sound of boot falls echoes against his head on the ground. 

“Get up.” 

The words were enunciated loudly and clearly with no emotion. Silence hung heavily around them, and Peter could feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. 

“NOW!” 

Peter scrambled to his knees as he heard others do the same. The ties on his ankles had enough give to allow him to rise to his feet, albeit somewhat awkwardly. He felt other people pushing up against him and started walking with the flow as barked orders were given around them. 

He heard gasps and small screams coming from ahead of him and barely had time to think about it before his foot fell on empty space, and he lurched forward with a gasp of his own. Hands caught him around his midsection and placed him on the ground. 

Oh, they must have just disembarked a bus of some kind. A bus without seats, which is weird, but there are certainly more important things to worry about right now. 

Shouts directed them forward and corralled them together. They stood there for only a moment before the floor groaned, and they began a slow descent in some sort of elevator.  

Once they stopped, everyone was once again pushed forward into what seemed to be a more open space based on the echo of their steps. Huddled together, armed men and women began making their way through the crowd, taking off the hoods of each person. 

When Peter’s hood was removed, he squinted and blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the bright overhead lights shining down on them. They were in some sort of cavern, clearly underground from the chilled, damp air. 

Looking around at the small group he was in, he saw kids his age, ranging from maybe 12 years old to 16 or 17. Definitely no one that looked like they were old enough to be out of school at least. 

He felt a sinking pit in his stomach. Just what had he gotten himself into? He woke up confused, disoriented, without his powers, and was almost immediately abducted by what? A child trafficking organization? 

The kids all looked to be as scared as he felt; he felt a young girl next to him trembling slightly and heard more than one sniffling as silent tears streaked down their faces. They were all closed off, looking down at the ground and shuffling themselves, unsure of what to do. 

In a moment of defiance and anger, he raised his chin and watched as a stern-looking woman walked out on the podium in front of them. She was tall, thin, and had straight, coarse, grey hair that ended at her shoulders. Her gaze held a cold and calculating weight to them. 

Her eyes flitted across the gaggle of children, and her gaze settled briefly on Peter, the only one looking up at her, with a slight twitch of the mouth. 

“Welcome children, to where the future will begin.” Her voice rang out clear and cold. “You will be the saviors of mankind, and for that, we are honored by your presence.” 

And as Peter watched her signal to the guards around them, he couldn’t help but think he was oh so royally fucked. 

Chapter Text

The next few hours passed by in a blur. Their small group was brought to what looked like a medical wing. Each took turns sitting on a medical cot answering questions about anything and everything to do with their medical history. The staff asked their questions bluntly, as if processing the kids through like that was just another Tuesday. 

Their vitals were recorded, photos taken, and blood samples collected. Several of the others had voiced their questions to the staff out of fear and desperation, but no one ever responded. The nurses just continued their work, concentrating on their tasks undistracted. Slowly, the sniffling and whining taper out and are replaced by a silent acceptance. 

At the end of his processing, the nurse in front of him holds Peter’s palm, turning it upward. He takes a gloved hand and smears something across Peter’s open hand. Looking down curiously, he watches as the man reaches for a small metal rod and presses it firmly to Peter’s hand. 

But it’s an odd sensation, Peter can barely feel the pressure of the object in his palm. Realizing the cream must have had some sort of numbing agent, the nurse holds the metal in place for a minute before removing it. Peter looks down and sees white digits clearly displayed against his skin. E-788.

“ A cold brand,” he thought, thankful in that moment that these people made the effort to provide pain relief before branding literal children . Small mercies or whatever. Clenching his still numb fist, Peter walked to join the others who were finished against the far wall. 

After everyone had been processed, they were moved to a long, tiled hallway with dozens of curtain partitions. Stepping in front of their group, a man spoke aloud, “Each of you will cleanse your hair and body, and change into the provided clothing set to the side of each shower. You have five minutes.” 

With that, the man stepped away, and the kids moved forward, each choosing a shower. Peter stepped into one of the further showers on the left and took note of the folded dark clothing on a stool. 

Quickly stripping off his clothes, he turned on the shower and stepped into disappointingly cool water. Using the provided soap, he washed himself as fast as possible, not looking to push his luck with the time limit. 

After wrapping himself in a towel, he unfolds the clothes and sees a pair of thicker athletic black pants and a more form-fitting stretchy grey long-sleeved shirt. Throwing the quote-unquote uniform on, he tries to rub the rest of the water out of his hair with the scratchy towel before doing his best to flatten the now frizzy mass of curls. 

At the base of the stool are a pair of socks and grey trainers. Slipping them on, he emerges from his curtain and rejoins the slowly growing group, now in the matching assigned clothing.

Not long after, everyone finished changing, and the man from before came back looking them over with an approving nod. 

“You will follow me silently. If you fall behind and lose your way, it will not be met with sympathy. Understood?”

Soundless nods answered him. He grunted and turned down another long tunnel. It felt like a labyrinth as they took turn after turn down each nondescript corridor. At several points, Peter was sure they had made a circle, but he was really starting to feel the toll of the last 24 hours. His thoughts remained just as foggy as before, but now with the addition of bone-deep exhaustion and hunger. 

Finally, they stopped at a large steel door, and the man placed his hand down on a scanner.  Several deep clangs sounded in the door and wall before it opened. And as Peter looked into the massive room before him, he felt himself lose whatever semblance of hope for normalcy he was holding onto.

Before them lay dozens of beds, row after row of plain metal frames and meticulously folded white sheets. But that wasn’t what made his heart sink. At the foot of nearly every bed stood a child at attention. Chin up, eyes ahead, and hands clasped behind their back. Each wore an expression completely devoid of emotion, seemingly unaware they were even being watched.

“Find an empty bed and stand at attention with your peers,” said Mr. Unnamed Man. 

Their group finally broke apart and filled in the last remaining beds. Peter walked to a free space between a girl slightly older than him with long curly hair and kind eyes, and a boy just a hair shorter than him with straight black hair. Neither acknowledged him as he passed by, and he did his best not to show fatigue as he walked. 

“Good evening, Unit 7. The last of your peers have finally joined us, and now real progress can begin.” The same man from before began making his way down the first aisle. His steps echoed throughout the large room. 

Peter’s eyes flicked across the faces of his “peers,” and it was clear who the newcomers were amongst their unit. He tore his gaze from a particularly distraught-looking young girl and back to the man as he began to round the bend and make his way back up Peter’s row. 

“You will have tonight. Rest and prepare yourself. We will begin at 6 AM. Lights off in 10 minutes.” And with that, he passed by Peter, leaving a swirl of air behind him. Peter repressed a shiver and watched as the man left the room and heard the distinct sound of a heavy lock falling into place. 

Immediately, the sleeping hall broke out in hushed conversation and the start of whines as the youngest of his small group finally had a moment to process what had happened. Noticing the distress, the older girl next to him stepped forward and whistled out a loud note that immediately silenced the room. 

“Hey, new kids! We don’t have much time here, so listen now; there will not be another opportunity.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly. “There are no answers to your questions. No one knows why we’re here; the earliest of us have only been in this facility for two, maybe three weeks now. All we know is that they were waiting for a complete hundred to fill out our unit before starting whatever it is they’re planning.” 

She looked around the room, making eye contact with each kid. Peter couldn’t help but feel impressed at her calm bravery and leadership. 

“We stick together, agreed? We may not know what the future holds, but it will certainly be easier with 99 of us at each other's backs than it would be alone.” She smirked slightly with a glint in her eye. “I for one plan on making it out of whatever shit is and I’d like to see you all on the other side.” 

Glancing briefly at a clock hanging above the main door, she speaks again, “We have 5 minutes left. They are strict on their wake-up calls, get as much sleep as you can.” 

And with that, she turns back to her bed and begins untucking the blankets. After a couple of seconds, movement begins through the hall as the others follow suit, Peter with them. As he lays his still-aching body into the mattress, a groan escapes him, and he presses his palms to his eyes. 

“You good there, kid?” says a voice next to him. 

Turning his head, he looks at the girl next to him. She’s propped up on an elbow, looking at him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Oh yeah, ya know,” he chuckles for a moment. “It’s just been like a really long day.”

Her mouth twitches minutely at that. “Yeah, I think I might know what you’re talking about. Seems to be a common experience in this hellhole.” 

They stare at each other for a moment before Peter reaches a hand across the gap between their beds. “Peter,” he introduces.

The girl blinks before reaching out a hand as well and giving him a quick handshake. “Jess,” she returns. 

Peter gives her a nod and sees her glance up at the clock one more time. “Good night, Peter. See you in the morning,” she says. 

The lights cut out, leaving the hundred children in total darkness. And with no more strength left, Peter turns onto his back and is instantly claimed by sleep. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Peter found himself waking abruptly when the lights were turned on. He followed everyone else by getting up, making his bed, and walking towards a door in the back of the room. Jess walked next to him; it was nice to at least know one person during all of this. 

They emerged in a large cafeteria area, and kids began grabbing trays and standing in line for breakfast while the newcomers followed suit. A few others made their way across the dining area and through another door. Peter looked over at Jess. 

Noticing his silent question, she explained, “Lockers and showers are over in there. There will be a locker with your number on it with basic hygiene products and a change of clothes.”

Handing him a tray, she continues, “It doesn’t matter which order you get ready in, but I would rather not be hangry.”

Plates were pre-made with what looked like the same portion sizes. He picked one up filled with watery eggs, cubed potatoes, and plain oatmeal with blueberries. Not as much food as he would like to down right now, but it’ll do. 

Feeling better having something in his stomach for the first time since waking up to all this nonsense, Peter parts with Jess and makes his way to shower and change for the day. 

Afterwards, everyone is directed through yet another door. Since entering that first locked steel door, it seems that everything has just been connected in one massive layout. It felt like they were making a point. Like that door was the singular way out, and there was no reason for them to go back through it

They fan out in a large area with an indoor track, fitness equipment, and the same goddamn scary dude from yesterday. 

He walks forward and addresses the group, “Good morning, today we will be establishing the baseline health and fitness levels of Unit 7. To your right, you will see staff with monitoring equipment. You will be outfitted with a monitor each that will record your vitals for the duration of this training. Make your way there in an orderly fashion, and once you have been equipped with a monitor, start working your way through the training areas.”

Mr. Scary Man gestures to the different areas in the room, “There is endurance with a two-mile run and various strength-targeted stations. You will be allowed a rest period afterwards to track your body’s recovery period, and then you will complete the sequence again.”

Peter was then given his health monitor, and he and the others began the run. All in all, it sucked. He forgot how bad running was without his powers. Pair that with the asthma, and Peter felt like he was fighting for his life. With two more laps to go, he saw that Jess was the first to finish as she started walking toward the strength area. 

Peter finished up shortly after and began making his way through the stations. He mourned the loss of his super strength as he struggled through every basic exercise. He finished with a frustrated groan and sat down by Jess for the recovery. 

“So what’s it like being on par with an Olympian?” Peter asks with humor. “I saw you absolutely destroy everyone on that run, and I literally don’t think you broke a sweat lifting any of those weights.” If Peter was a little jealous, that was for him to know and for no one else to find out. 

Jess laughed a bit, “I mean, I would hope so. I’m on the track and field team at school, and I was hoping to continue on in college after graduation.” Something changes in her expression, and her next words are tinged with a dry sadness. “I was taken the week before the biggest track meet of the season. There were gonna be college recruiters there. I was hoping to get noticed for a scholarship.” 

“Hey,” Peter says, bumping her shoulder slightly, “it sounds like you’ve built up a reputation for yourself. I’m sure you’ll have schools lining up to sign you when you get back.”

Staring somewhere in the distance, she smiles slightly, “Yeah, maybe.” Then she gets a mischievous glint to her eye, “I don’t know, I guess for now, I’ll just have to be content with the fact that I totally obliterated you in everything so far.”

Peter squawks in offence, “that’s not… You have like 5 inches on me, dude!”

Leaning back, she laughs at him, “I don’t know, sounds like a skill issue to me.”

Peter continues grumbling in mock offense and chugs the rest of his water before everyone gets up to repeat the fitness tests. Resigning himself to the fact that it’s gonna suck all over again, he begins the run. 

-

They were sent to lunch with the same portioned plates, this time chicken, broccoli, and rice. Peter was starting to get a little agitated over the controlled portions, it was just slightly less than what he felt like his body was asking for. 

It seemed like there was nothing else required of them for the day, so the kids broke off in groups, hanging out in the sleeping hall. Some of the younger ones were playing games amongst themselves, and a few of the older teenagers were lounging and talking with each other. But every once in a while, a kid would be sitting on their bed, staring straight ahead but not really seeing anything. 

They were all dealing with this entrapment differently, but Peter has always been one to ignore his problems, so with that, he made his way back to Jess. 

They talked and joked, they argued about what books and movies they liked, and Peter was absolutely floored that she had never even heard of Star Wars. She had also listed off a bunch of movies he didn’t know, so he supposed they were just interested in different media. 

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed without anything notable, and Peter found himself enjoying the company, almost forgetting the whole kidnapping thing. They went to bed, and Peter’s last thought was how long this semblance of stability would last. 

-

Ms. Silverstein walked briskly into the conference room adjacent to the labs. Her grey hair was pinned up today, accentuating her stern demeanor. The table was filled with her scientists, staff, and investors; guards stood stationed around the room. Each of them straightened minutely at her entrance. 

She took her place at the head of the table and, not even bothering with a greeting, addressed the doctor, “How are the subject’s preliminary results?” 

Shuffling some papers, he brought out several pages of data and graphs. “Overall, we’re looking to be within the expected health ranges for ages 12 to 17. There are the expected occurrences of minor health diagnoses we’ve seen previously with Units 1 through 6, such as poor eyesight, mild asthma, and so on. Naturally, the effects of our study on these conditions will be monitored as well.”

“Very well,” she said. Turning to the head of staff, she asks, “Have there been any issues with the subjects thus far?”

The woman next to her takes a breath before responding, “No ma’am, all is running smoothly. Each subject is eating and sleeping the scheduled amount, and they have managed their hygiene without issue. Behaviorally, they are performing above previous Units. There have been no fights or resistance to their instructions.”

Glancing down and picking up a paper, she continues, “There is one subject, E-704, that has shown a tendency to stand out and may have the potential to rally the rest of the test subjects should she try. There has been no move so far, but she will remain under heightened surveillance.”

Ms. Silverstein takes the file. “Alright, as long as it doesn’t become an issue, we will continue to move forward with her. I don’t want to lose a data point if we can help it.” Nodding next to the lead scientist, she asks, “With the preliminary results in, how are we for the next phase?”

The scientist looks up at being addressed, “Everything is ready to begin as soon as you say the word. Using what we have learned from the previous Units, all known issues have been resolved with our serums. I’ll be honest, I have some high hopes for this group.” The scientist meets her gaze with a fire in his eye; he is exceptionally proud of the work he has done. 

With that, she stands and turns her attention back to the boardroom as a whole. “Very well, I’m pleased to hear the good news. Tomorrow we will begin with the next phase, and hopefully, Unit 7 will provide more progress for us than the previous failures did. I look forward to hearing the updates from the lab staff. We will meet back in a week’s time.

And with that, she dismisses the table, leaving just the sound of her high heels clicking down the hall. 

Chapter Text

Peter woke to blinding lights once again. The scary man was back, but this time he was flanked by two doctors. 

“I need E-700 through E-709 to come with me now. Don’t worry about breakfast, you will be able to eat afterwards. The rest of you are to wait here until you’re called.”

Peter and Jess looked at each other, Jess with just a twinge of fear behind her eyes, before she covered it with a casual smile. 

“Be back in a jiffy,” she said, passing by him.

He hummed in response and sat back down on the end of his bed, bored now that he would have no one to talk to until she returned. 

He sat idly as he watched the other kids in the room, but it wasn’t more than 15 or 20 minutes before Jess came back, and he breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her unharmed. 

“What was that about?” he asked. “What did they do?”

“Eh, the usual, I guess. We went back to the medical wing; they took some more blood and gave us some shots. It’s probably just vaccines or something, so we don’t all get sick together.” She rubbed her arm absentmindedly, “One of ‘em was a bit of a rough shot though, one of those ones that just hurts when they inject you, ya know?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “and it feels like they’re using the biggest gauge needle they got just because?” 

“See, you get it,” she says, smiling, “really, it wasn’t all that bad.” 

“Alright, if you say so.” He lies back down on the bed with his hands cradling his head, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Well, I’m gonna go get some food now, you coming?”

“Nah,” he says, “I still gotta wait ‘till I go, remember? Which, at this rate, will be like… another hour and a half.” That last part came out as more of a groan, but whatever, he was hungry.

“Ah yeah, sorry man, that’s some shit luck.”

“Nuh uh,” he picks his head up to look at her, “It’s Parker Luck™. Put some respect on the family curse.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Alright well, wallow in your Parker Luck then, ya dork.” She passes by his bed on the way to the dining area. 

“I literally have no choice in the matter,” he calls out to her. He barely hears a light scoff before she’s out of earshot. 

And so Peter sat and waited; a few more groups were called out and returned. All of them looked no worse for wear, and he tried taking some deep breaths to lessen the pit in his gut. 

He was just being paranoid, clearly, nothing was happening. He would just have to continue to watch and wait. He would learn what their captors planned, and he would get everyone out of here. He had to. Before anything went wrong. 

It was like he could feel it, like some clock had started ticking, everything had just been too calm these last couple of days. There was a reason why these people had kidnapped all of these children, he just had to figure out what it was. 

Jess came back from breakfast and the showers, and they passed the time with conversation and stupid games while Peter ignored his grumbling stomach. 

“I spy something white.”

“It is the bed sheets on bed #34?”

“No idiot, it's the bed sheets on bed #37.” 

Eventually, E-780 through E-789 were called, and he joined the other kids on the walk to the medical room. He was directed to the cot in the back right of the room, and he sat patiently as the nurse bustled around. 

Just like Jess said, they took his blood first before laying out a few pre-filled syringes. Two were filled with some clear liquid, and the third looked borderline radioactive with a faint glow in the murky green contents. Peter glanced at the paperwork near the needles, his eyes flitting through the lines of data and graphs that were visible. A DNA sequence was displayed on the side, but even with his pretty basic knowledge of biology, it didn’t look quite right. 

The nurse caught him looking at the paper and grunted before pushing it away and placing a larger notebook on top. 

Peter rolled his eyes before focusing back on the nurse, now holding the needle. He felt the prick in his arm, and two more soon followed. Jess was right, that last one had a bit of bite to it, like a burning deep in his muscle. 

The nurse disposed of the needles and began taking off their gloves. “Make sure to eat a good breakfast and drink plenty of water. You are dismissed.” 

Alright, short and sweet, nice. Peter was one of the first to be done, so he walked back to the room alone. He waved to Jess as he made a beeline for the dining area and gratefully grabbed a plate.

He ate quickly, barely even tasting the food before he was left staring dejectedly at the empty plate. With a sigh, he got back up and made his way to the main room to hang out with Jess again. 

When he approached the bed, he saw Jess with her head propped up on her hand, eyes half closed and dozing. 

“Hey, you good?” he asked as he sat on his own bed.

She opened her eyes and stifled a yawn, “Yeah, just feeling a little tired. How’d it go?”

“Like you said, shots suck.” He smiled and flopped back dramatically, “my arm huuuurts, I’ve never liked shots anyway.”

“Oh, poor baby, what could possibly make your booboo better?” she said, shaking her head at his antics. 

Peter stopped his dramatic flopping immediately and looked at Jess intently. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe… your cookie tonight at dinner?” Peter threw his best puppy-dog eyes at her.

She openly laughed in his face, “Ha! Nice one, short stack. That cookie is mine, and absolutely no amount of begging will take it away from me.” 

“Jesssss,” he whined. 

“Nuh uh, you can take that cookie from my cold, dead hands.” She laughed and threw her pillow at his head. 

The day continued uninterrupted. No one stopped by with orders or even to check in on them. Kids went back to their groups as they let time pass, and soon enough, it was time for dinner.

Peter once again sat with Jess and a few other kids, both older and younger than him. Everything still seemed surreal. Here they all were, actually enjoying each other's company and finding joy during this imprisonment. He was happy that he had everyone here with him, as much as it guilted him to think. Jess was right, going through hell with others was certainly easier than doing it alone. 

Everyone started to pack up their trays to drop them off. Petter looked down as he stood up and saw an extra chunk of cookie in the center of his plate that definitely wasn’t there before. 

His head shot up towards Jess, who looked like she was very purposefully staying in a conversation with another girl and avoiding his eye contact. Peter ate the extra bite of cookie gratefully and dumped his tray with the others. 

Catching up to Jess on the walk back, he spoke up, “Thanks, you didn’t actually have to do that, you know.”

Jess threw an arm over his shoulders, and Peter was once again reminded of the height difference as he tilted his head back to look at her. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“Mmhmmm,” Peter hummed with a touch of sass, “whatever you say.” 

Jess’s mouth twitched for a second before she removed her arm and put her hand on his face to push him away. 

“Shut up.” 

Peter grinned and followed behind her. He liked annoying Jess. And he doesn't think he's ever had an older sister before, but he’d like to imagine it would be something like this. 

Chapter Text

Peter woke to an unbearable heat across his body. He raised an arm and wiped sweat off his drenched forehead. Every muscle in his body ached, but he needed water desperately. 

Tumbling out of bed, he shuffled across the hall and to the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before leaning most of his weight on it. He turned on the faucet and immediately chugged the cool water. Once content, he began rubbing water up his arms and across his face and hair. 

Wiping off the excess from his face, he turned back to the sleeping hall and slowly made his way back to the bed. By the time he made it there, most of the water had evaporated, and he felt goosebumps rise across his arms and back. 

Nothing better than going from burning to freezing in the span of 5 minutes. Hugging his arms to his chest, Peter began to shiver before falling back into bed with a weak sigh and wrapping the blankets around him as tightly as they would go. 

Right before losing consciousness once again, he looked over at Jess, noticing a barely perceptible shaking from her bed as well. 

-

A loud bang woke Peter hours later. He felt even more like death and barely withheld a groan before managing to turn his head to the main door. A team of what looked like scientists and doctors came in and dispersed through the rows of beds. 

He watched with heavily lidded eyes as the closest doctor went up to a boy near him and began taking his vitals. The boy didn’t even seem fully aware that he was being fussed over. 

Struggling to keep his eyes open, he closed them for what seemed like only seconds before he felt someone next to him. He watched as a man in a lab coat put a blood pressure cuff on his arm and popped a thermometer in his mouth. 

Peter was feeling borderline delusional and barely had enough strength to mutter a weak, “Wha-” before his voice failed him. 

“Nothing to worry about,” the man said. It was said with no emotion, almost scripted. “Looks like there’s a virus making its way around the facility. We’re just making sure that everyone’s doing alright.” 

Peter tried his best to say no, he very much wasn’t doing alright, but he barely had the strength to make a sound, much less coherent speech. 

And so he let the man continue taking his notes, only flinching slightly when the cold stethoscope touched his bare skin. It wasn’t long before the doctor packed up his supplies and moved over to Jess’s bed. 

The full-body shivers started to come back, and Peter barely kept himself from crying as they racked through his weak and painful muscles. Exhaustion took over once again, and his vision turned to black. 

-

Fire burned through his veins with agony piercing every part of his body. He was distantly aware of a whimpering sound coming from somewhere. It could have been himself, but he was too busy literally dying to care. 

His breaths came out in shallow, panicked gasps, and he rocked himself ever so slightly in a feeble attempt to lessen the torment. 

Time lost all meaning as he floated in darkness, only the burning pain keeping him grounded. At some point, a light shone in the black behind his eyelids. An almost neon green glow as he felt the burning in his chest intensify. 

And so he stayed, silently burning away as the strange green light brightened. 

- 

Some time later, a loud screech pierced the silence, and Peter jolted. He became aware that the burning had lessened significantly, but he was still barely able to move his body. When he opened his eyes, the world was a mass a blurred colors with that same faint green filter over his vision. Looking across the aisleway at the other row of beds, he saw a dark, muddled form pushing something. It was long, white, and bulky, the squeaking sounding like it was coming from a poorly oiled wheel. 

He couldn’t make sense of the shapes and colors he saw, but he watched as the form continued away from him. The squeaking never quieted, and now that he was left almost as a prisoner within his body, he couldn’t help but become increasingly aware of the sounds around him. 

He became overwhelmed by the rustling and breathing around him. It all sounded restless and sick, the dozens upon dozens of breaths sounding painful and shallow, all overlapping each other. The buzzing of the lights filled his head in a way that seemed distantly familiar. A feeling that he had experienced heightened senses of this nature before, but he could not remember how to control them or make them any more manageable. 

Another squeaking pierced the air, and Peter barely restrained a groan as he turned over and tried burying his head in the pillows and blankets to ease the pain from the sound. As the offending sound got closer, he peeked out from his cover with a glare. 

With vision slightly clearer and the strange green slowly ebbing away, he saw a doctor pass by with what looked like an empty stretcher. One of the others must have been sick enough to be treated elsewhere. Content enough with that conclusion, Peter blocked out the world once more and went back to sleep. He seemed to be getting better, and he hoped that by the time he woke up again, he would be able to do more than flop uselessly in his bed. 

-

A painful prod to his shoulder forced him back to consciousness, and he brought up his arms to swat away whatever was waking him too soon.  

“Holy shit, he’s awake!” a voice above him said before he heard footsteps race away from him. 

Thankful for the silence once again, Peter chose to ignore the stranger and go back to sleep. But just as he began to drift off, he heard several people rushing towards him, and he resigned himself with a groan and opened his eyes.  

A handful of doctors and scientists were coming towards him. The scientists were holding clipboards, and as the doctors surrounded his bed, they began taking his vitals again. 

A lady to his left adjusted her clipboard and looked down at him with a stern eye.

“How are you feeling E-788? Any symptoms to report?”

Shocked at the sudden influx of people, Peter looked away from the doctor taking his pulse and frowned slightly at the woman. 

“Um, I feel kinda sick still. But mostly I’m just tired and hungry.” 

She nodded with a terrifying glint in her eye and looked at an assistant, who promptly left. The doctor took out a small flashlight and shone it into his eyes. Peter jerked back at the intensity of it and turned his face away.

“Are you experiencing extra sensitivity to the light?” the lady asked with an intensity to her gaze.

A faint warning sounded in the back of his mind, and he hesitantly shook his head. “No, uh… ma’am. Just a headache.” Breaking eye contact, Peter looked back down at his hands

The scientist made a noise of disappointment, “Very well then. The doctors will finish their check-up on you, and then someone will bring you some food to eat. We’ll move you to an uncontaminated room shortly after.”

Still looking down, Peter nodded, “Thank you, ma’am.” The lady left, taking several of the others with her, all walking with purpose out of the hall.

Peter turned his attention towards Jess, who looked pale and ill in her bed.

“Jess?” Peter asked, his voice hoarse.

The only response he got was a slightly deeper breath and continued shivering.

Unease grew in his stomach, and he turned to the doctor next to him. “Excuse me, sir? I’m feeling much better than I was, but I think the girl next to me really needs some help.”

The doctor grunted unhelpfully. “Yes, I’ll move on to the next test subject after you.” And just like that, Peter was dismissed. 

He shifted uncomfortably under the doctor’s continued scrutiny and stole glances over at Jess with concern clearly written on his face. But as the doctor said, he packed up his equipment and moved on to Jess. But before starting his check-up, he pulled open a curtain, blocking Peter’s view of her bed. 

Peter settled down into his bed with a slight frown, doing his best to listen in, but hearing absolutely nothing of use. Not long after, the assistant returned with a tray of food and set it at the end of his bed before leaving once again. 

Starting to feel more like himself, Peter gratefully dug into the warm meal. He let his senses reach out and got lost in the distant echoing sounds of the facility as he ate.

He was brought back to himself by the doctor quickly passing by his bed again on his way out, and Peter watched as he made his way across the sleeping hall and out the main door. Peter listened intently for a moment, hearing someone else approaching the hall, but it sounded like he had enough time before they arrived. 

Standing up from the bed on weak legs, he took a step towards Jess’s bed before turning back to the food tray with a small smile. He grabbed the untouched cookie before stumbling over to the partition. 

Pulling apart the curtain, Peter entered with a loud whisper, “Hey Jess, I got something for you.” 

He was met with silence, and Peter took a deep breath before pushing off from the curtain pole towards Jess’s blanketed form. Reaching a hand out, he shakes her shoulder gently.

“Jess?” he asks again quietly. Prodding her a little harder, he pushes her over onto her back. Peter looks down at her, completely still with half-lidded eyes looking in his direction. 

He feels his legs weaken and shake, and he drops down to her bedside, grabbing one of her hands towards him.

“Jess!” he voices with panic and desperation evident in his strained attempt at a scream. Distantly, he hears a door open and close, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the only familiar face he’s had since coming to this hellhole. This wasn’t possible, Jess was the strongest out of all of them. It was unnatural, it wasn’t right.

A violent sob escaped his chest as he shook her. “Jess! Stop pretending, you have to wake up. They said they’re gonna move me to a new room and I won’t be going without you, now come on! ” He tugged futilely; his crying intensified with each passing second that she didn’t respond.

A hand grabbed his upper arm and began pulling him away. “ No! ” he screamed, “Jess hasn’t woken up yet.” He shoved against the man at his side as a wave of green anger came over him and didn’t even register the fact that he was sent flying several feet through the air with a yell. 

Several more hands grabbed towards him, and he frustratingly tried to shake them off. In a last-ditch attempt, he lunged towards Jess and shoved the cookie into her open hand. With that one small success, he felt his fight leave him, and with it, the green anger.

As he was dragged back, he looked to one of the men, “You have to tell Jess that it's for her,” he begged. “When she wakes up, let her know where I am and that the cookie is for her, please .” 

The man just grunted as he pulled Peter further away. As he lost sight of Jess, something in him broke; he lost the rest of his strength and curled in on himself, crying. 

They carried him out of the hall for the first time since his arrival, which felt much longer than just the few days he’s been here. Passing through corridor after corridor, he let himself be manhandled as he stared blankly ahead. 

Eventually, they reached a door. Opening it, the men pushed him through before Peter heard the door shut and lock quickly behind him. He stood there for an unknown amount of time, shaking minutely, the tear tracks drying down his face. 

His gaze fell on a plain white bed, just like his bed back in the … other room. It was the only one in the small room. He practically fell forward towards it and barely managed to pull himself up onto the foot of the bed. Lying on his side, he tucked his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs. 

Tremors continued to shake through his body intermittently as he stared numbly at the wall, vaguely wondering where all the rest of the kids were put.

Chapter Text

“Ms. Silverstein,” a doctor said urgently, rushing into the office, “we’ve had a breakthrough.” 

After a beat of silence, she drops the paperwork she had been working on and abruptly stands up. Buttoning her jacket, she walks briskly toward the door. “I want a full report from your team within the hour. How many do we have?” 

The doctor clears his throat slightly, “Just one, ma’am.” 

A small frown flits across her face before it is replaced by the same stone-cold expression as before, “Disappointing, but not surprising. Very well. As soon as you are able, we will begin testing. After all, it only takes one successful mutation to be incorporated into a species’ DNA. We’ll make do.”

With that, she pulled out a phone, already dialing a number as she turned down a different hallway. 

-

Peter was staring at the blank white wall. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he collapsed into bed. He tried his best not to think. Not to close his eyes and see a blank stare looking back at him. Not to focus too much on his hearing and listen to the echoes of the sickly moans and wheezing breaths stuck in his head. 

And so he stares, letting the time pass in a blur. 

At some point, a woman came in dressed in hospital scrubs. She pulled him out of his ball at the end of the bed and propped him up on some pillows. She then checked him over, writing down her findings on a clipboard. 

But Peter remained detached, letting her put a hand to his forehead and check his temperature or poke him with a needle as she set up an IV. And before long, she left, leaving Peter in the suffocating silence. 

How had this happened? It couldn’t have been more than a day or two that everyone had fallen ill, and yet everything had changed. He had known that things wouldn’t remain in the precarious balance for long, but he never would have expected their experiment to be so swift and ruthless. 

He should have tried to look for an escape sooner. Maybe he could have at least gotten one person out. Maybe Jess would still be here. Because now that there was nothing to focus on, he could truly hear the facility, and it was clear that there were no other young heartbeats. 

It was just him. There was no one else left, and no one was coming. He didn’t even know of anyone who would know he was gone, much less look for him. 

The loneliness and grief felt familiar, like something he’d felt before. And in that way, it was unsurprising. He would endure, his body remembering the pain of survival like muscle memory. Yes, he would endure and he would escape. These people would not be successful in eliminating them all, he would make sure of it. 

And so Peter let blissful unconsciousness claim him, not even noticing the faint green that clouded his vision at the train of his thoughts. 

-

Peter woke up to the door to his room being thrown open somewhat forcefully. Half wiping away the sleep from his eyes, Peter positioned himself defensively facing the doorway.

Two dudes walked in, each muscular enough to look like they could break him with a pinky finger. The one removed his IV while the other tossed a pile of clothes at his feet, causing him to flinch slightly. 

“You have 5 minutes to get dressed and out the door,” said the one man simply before they both left just as quickly as they’d appeared. 

Deliberating for only a moment, Peter got up and quickly changed into the provided clothes, a simple black tank top and shorts with matching black socks. Well, at least they had a theme. 

He walked up to the door and paused. He needed a way out, but now isn’t the time. He needed more information, and it wouldn’t help to piss off the two giant men right off the bat. 

He took a breath and opened the door to the men standing on each side of his door. They were both holding guns, which, come on, seems a little dramatic. And then, the one on the right turned to him slightly and simply raised an arm and pointed to the door across the hall. 

“ What do these people have against using their words? ” he grumbled to himself as he walked across the hallway. The men fell in behind him, flanking either side, and he opened the door to a decently sized, medical-looking room. 

Having hesitated briefly, one of the men pushed him forward from behind. Rude . 

At their entrance, a senior-looking man stood up from a desk in the corner. He took off his glasses and flashed Peter a brilliant smile that sent a jolt of fear through him. Something just a touch unnatural with how many teeth he showed.

Danger.

Oh cool, a disembodied voice-feeling. It’s not wrong, though, so Peter decided it wasn’t really the biggest priority at the moment. 

“Well, hello there, E-788! Can I just say what an honor it is to work with you?” He slowly began to circle Peter, tapping his glasses against his chin as he analyzed the figure standing before him. 

Peter stood still, stiff, and refusing to show a semblance of unease under the scrutiny of the man. 

“You really are quite the specimen, aren’t you? A statistical wonder.”

He stops in front of Peter once again, looking at him as if he were some sort of trophy. And with a gut-sinking realization, Peter concluded that that’s exactly what he is. During his short time here, not a single person had called the children by anything other than their assigned numbers. They were never viewed as people by the scientists or doctors, just test subjects. Data points. Nothing more. 

“But that’s the beauty of science, you see,” the man continued. “Naturally, there’s the pomp and circumstance of an unanticipated success, but the true progress comes from the study. Understanding exactly why there was success in the first place. After all, if you have a result and no ability to replicate it, have you really achieved anything at all?”

The man looks at Peter expectantly, a glint in his eye. But Peter refused to look at him, staring at a point on the wall behind him as he felt a pit of anxiety forming in his stomach. 

The man chuckled slightly to himself, giving an unnerving illusion of a sweet old man. “No, no real progress at all. Follow me,” he called behind him as he turned around and walked towards a medical bed. 

One of the guards behind him shoved his shoulder, and he stumbled forward again. They really gotta cut that shit out. 

He perches on the edge of the bed as the doctor walks over with a tray of equipment. 

“Just have to take a blood sample first. We want to see if there have been any obvious changes from what we can compare to your pre-exposure samples.”

Peter frowns slightly at that. First of all, the amount of blood he’s given to these people is already insane. But secondly, he wants to know what they could have injected him with that would show something substantially different in his blood. 

After a relatively short and painless process, the doctor cleaned up the space and brought the samples back to his desk and equipment area. Before long, the doctor returned with a tray of food.

Setting it on the bed next to Peter, he says, “Go on, can’t have you passing out from blood loss, can we?” Then, after giving Peter that old man wink, he made his way back to the desk. 

As soon as the man’s back was turned, Peter pulled his legs up onto the bed and sat criss-cross applesauce as he dug into the warm meal. He didn’t even know the last time he ate, but it must have been a while, judging by the gurgling as the food hit his stomach. 

It was more food than he’d had for the duration of his time here, and there was even a tall glass of chocolate milk, which Peter gulped happily. 

Feeling somewhat content, Peter sat and waited while the doctor ran test after test on his blood. Every once in a while, he’d hum or mutter to himself as he received the results, but mostly the room was left in silence. 

After several hours of sheer boredom, the man came back over carrying a giant binder and a clipboard. 

“Alrighty then, we’re going to start with some questions. After recovering from the sickness, have you felt any adverse effects?”

Peter’s eyebrows pinched slightly. He knew that there had been changes to his body, but if he wanted a shot at escape, he needed to try and keep some secrets close to his chest. That would mean giving away just enough to keep them satisfied with their study, but never enough to understand the full picture. 

“No, sir. I’ve been a little more sleepy, but I think that might just still be the recovery.” 

He grunted. “Are you hungry?” the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Uh, I could eat, I guess.” That was a lie. Even in just the few hours since the last meal, Peter felt like he hadn’t eaten for a majority of the day. 

The doctor hummed and wrote something down on his clipboard before moving on. “Have there been any physical changes to your body?”

Peter looked down at his hands. Had there been? It felt like he was seeing and hearing better, and there was that strange voice, but those weren’t really physical traits, were they? Eh, plausible deniability or whatever. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

And so the questions continued, and as they got more specific, Peter tried his best to answer the doctor just enough to keep him content. He thought he had been doing a pretty decent job until they reached the end of the questions on the clipboard. 

The doctor set the clipboard down and leveled Peter with an unimpressed look. “Have you been lying to me throughout these questions?”

Peter felt a flash of panic before trying to calm himself. “Of course not,” he said, in possibly the most inconvincing voice possible. God curse his inability to lie effectively. 

The doctor hummed in annoyance. “Do you think me incompetent? There’s a reason I am the lead of this study above anyone else. Your lies were worthless! I will discover the truth through our experiments together, but I don’t appreciate being taken as a fool.” 

Peter had never seen an adult come so close to a tantrum before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.

The man stood up suddenly, shocking Peter slightly. 

Wary, danger.

Peter agreed with the voice, but it didn’t feel immediate. He definitely pissed off the doctor, though. 

“We will finish today with a fitness test, and then our study will be over for the day. Follow me.” The semblance of a sweet old man was gone, replaced by cold indifference. 

Peter walked with him to a large treadmill, and the doctor began hooking him up to a bunch of monitors.

“You will run until I tell you to stop, understood?”

Peter just nodded his head mutely in return and began to run as the treadmill started up. It soon became apparent that he wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon, and so Peter let his mind wander. He definitely hadn’t been able to run like this during the first fitness test he took when he got here.

The doctor left for a period of time, although he remained under the constant watchful eye of the guards at the door. It felt like forever before the doctor returned and signalled that Peter could stop. After disconnecting him from the monitors, the doctor once again gave Peter a tray of food and a large water bottle.

Peter drank from the bottle greedily and ate the food as the doctor stood next to him, silently going through some paperwork. 

Once Peter had finished, the doctor glanced up, “You are dismissed,” he said simply. And then, addressing the guards, continued, “I need the subject back here at 7 AM tomorrow morning.” 

“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison. Peter took that as his cue to leave and followed the men back to his room across the hall. 

Alone in the room once again, Peter took the chance to shower and change into an identical set of clothes he found in a dresser. He went to put his dirty clothes in a hamper, but as he let them go, he found them sticking to his hands. 

Peter stared at the fabric clinging to his hands unaided. Then, as if stretching an unused muscle, he released the barest of tension he felt on his skin and watched as the clothes were reclaimed by gravity, smiling slightly at the display. 

Making his way back to the bed, Peter laid down and stared up at the ceiling. That strange voice was right, there was a danger here, and he needed to escape it before it was too late. But if he could get control of that stickiness, he was one major step closer to finding a way out. 

-

The following morning, the same two men came into the room as the previous day. Peter decided he would dub them Tiny and Pipsqueak because personally, he thought that was fuckin’ hilarious. 

What was not hilarious, however, was that each man walked up to either side of his bed and, without warning, clasped heavy metal cuffs around his wrists. 

“Hey, wait!” Peter started, trying to pull his hands away, but each man held firm, and Peter didn’t think he’d be able to talk his way out of pulling down two literal tanks with his string bean arms. And it definitely felt like he could; Tiny and Pipsqueak’s pull barely registered to him. 

As soon as the cuffs were secured on his wrists, Tiny unceremoniously picked him up under his armpits and placed him standing up on the floor. 

“Thanks for the fashion statement and all, but you guys really didn’t have to,” he said with words dripping in sarcasm. 

Tiny and Pipsqueak just stared at him. Tough crowd. He was rudely shoved yet again , and Peter got the hint and made his way to the lab. 

Things were set up differently from the day before. A large metal table was centered in the room under several bright lights. 

Get out. Danger. Run.

But as Peter took a step back, large hands clasped around his upper arms and started dragging him forward. He dug his heels into the ground as he looked up at the two guards. 

“Hold on, stop!” he yelled, but got no response. The men threw him onto the table, and as soon as the cuffs made contact with the metal table, they stuck like an industrial scale magnet. Peter pulled at them, but he soon realized that the cuffs were likely to break apart before he would be able to pull them off the table. 

In his moment of distraction, the guards had put the same cuffs on his ankles and activated them. A flash of anger burned through him, and green bordered his vision. 

“What the fuck guys? Let me go!” He screamed at them, but the only response was Pipsqueak attaching a matching collar around his neck. He pushed his shoulders down before activating the collar as well and rendering Peter immobile. 

He felt like he had the strength to break the restraints, but in a minuscule moment of clarity, he understood that it was far more important to leave that ability hidden. And so, Peter took a breath and let the strange green fade. He needed to wait this out. He could deal with whatever the stupid doctor had in store, and when the opportunity arose, he would be gone. He would use everything he had to get out, but until then, he needed to do his best to play the helpless victim. 

“Oh perfect, you’re already here,” a voice rang through the room, leaving a chill down Peter’s spine. The large binder smacked down near his head, and Peter repressed a flinch. 

The man was dressed in a full lab coat today and the same terrifying smile. “Well E-788, we have a lot of questions to answer, best get started, shouldn’t we?” And with that, the doctor put on a mask and opened the binder to the first page out of many. 

Peter stared up at the ceiling and took in a shaky breath. 

-

Time passed in a blur. The experiments were horrible, some painful, some not. But each exposed and studied Peter in a way that left him nauseous. After several experiments, the doctor removed his mask and deactivated Peter’s neck and hand restraints. 

Peter rose weakly into a sitting position, and the doctor handed him a food tray before sitting down and humming a cheery tune as he began to eat his own meal. Peter sat there, baffled for a moment at the display. This was clearly some type of emotional manipulation, but Peter needed the food and therefore didn’t particularly care at the moment. 

As soon as Peter finished his meal, though, the doctor’s mask came back on and his restraints were reactivated. The second half of the day began. Peter weathered each experiment, and the second portion ended similarly to the first. 

Peter spent his fully lucid moments analyzing and memorizing the room around him. There were three air vents near the ceiling, and during the intermittent quiet moments, he used his hearing to focus in on the echos faintly coming from each. 

One had a whirring sound of machinery, and another held distant voices and conversation. But the third held faint sounds of a city. That would be the one to get him out of the facility, he decided. 

At the end of the day, Peter was brought back to his room, not given the mercy of having the cuffs removed. He stumbled to the bed and slowly lost consciousness as he practiced sticking parts of his legs and arms to the bed sheets and releasing them.

-

The following day was the same. Experiments, food, experiments, food, sleep. Same for the day after that, and the day after that. 

Peter slowly lost count of how many days had passed, and yet the doctor and his guards never slipped once. They remained armed, they never left him alone. It was starting to grate on his nerves. Why did they have to be competent? 

Maybe sometime around the second week, Peter was dragged back into the lab, and after only barely seeing the doctor sitting at his desk, his stomach let out a loud and painful grumble.

The doctor looked up and chuckled with a smirk on his face. He met Peter at the table with another tray of food. 

“Stupid Pavlov and his stupid fuckin’ dogs,” he angrily thought to himself. He did not want to associate this man with anything good, and here his body was, betraying him like that. 

But Tiny and Pipsqueak remained just a few steps away and at the ready, so taking another stupid-ass calming breath, Peter ate his food quietly. 

And so the pattern continued, day in and day out, as Peter waited for his opportunity. 

-

“Good afternoon, Ms. Silverstein. I have the progress report for E-788 ready for you.”

The doctor was sweating slightly but kept his head held high as he stood before the organization's head. 

Ms. Silverstein’s eyes flicked to him, and she gestured at the chair across from her desk. The man hurriedly sat down and began rifling through the papers he had gathered. 

“It’s looking very promising, ma’am. Many of the traits that were biologically engineered are present in the specimen, and I believe there is the potential for more to adapt given the right advancement.” 

Pulling out a large list, he cleared his throat. “Notable discoveries thus far include the following: increased metabolic rate directly correlated with an increased healing ability; heightened senses including touch, hearing, and sight; increased sensitivity to temperature, with cold resulting in a dormant state; and increased strength and general fitness.”

“The presented traits appear consistent with the physical attributes of the spider DNA used in the formula for E-788. Likewise, the negative results seem to be specifically related to the contributing DNA. They could likely be filtered out with continued engineering.” 

The doctor shut his binder with a snap and looked at the woman in front of him expectantly. 

Clasping her hands on the desk, she leaned forward. “And what of the effects from the Lazarous portion of the formula? What is your conclusion on the mental stability and capacity of the subject?”

“I would describe it as a resounding success,” the doctor said with pride. “After effects are still evident, however, it is my belief that the increased cellular regeneration and healing abilities of the subject have nearly eliminated the usual damages from the serum. There have been several instances where I have managed to invoke a pit episode, but the subject seems to be able to regain control within just a few minutes.” 

A smile graced Ms. Silverstein’s lips as she met the doctor's eyes. “Well, I would say that that is very good news, very good news indeed.” Turning some pages in her paperwork, she makes a few notes. “When do you think you’ll be able to progress to our next phase?” she asked. 

The doctor blew out a breath. “Oh, would two weeks be acceptable?” he asked. “That would just give me the time to ensure that everything has been properly documented and give the test subject the chance to recover to full capacity.” 

“I think that is acceptable,” the woman acknowledges. “I can allot you up to one month, but I want progress by then at the latest.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am,” the doctor said, rising to his feet. “You won’t be disappointed.” 

Her smile resembled that of a shark, “Of course I won’t.”

-

“Hey there, Anne,” he said, handing over a backpack of blankets, food, and water. 

The little girl took the bag with a shy smile. 

Sitting down at her level, he asked gently, “Have you heard any of the older kids talk about more missing friends lately?”

“No,” she responded, already pawing through the bag for her favorite dried apple slices. “The big kids are saying that they think we’re ok to come out again, Sam even let me go to the park the other day!” 

The man didn’t let his tension show. “That’s great, kiddo! But promise me you’ll still be safe, alright?”

“Yeah, of course, Red Hood,” she says with a toothy smile. 

The man chuckles and stands up. He pats the girl on the head before reaching an arm up and deploying his grapple gun to the top of the building. 

Flipping up onto the roof, he peers down below, making sure Anne makes her way safely. 

“Any news?” the voice of Nightwing calls behind him. 

He turns to look at his brother, “No. No missing kids in almost a month.” There’s an edge to his voice when he says it. 

“Maybe someone else took care of it?” Nightwing asked, hopeful.

Red Hood scoffed lightly, “C’mon, detective. With the rate at which those kids were going missing, this is big. And if someone had taken it down, we would have definitely heard about it.”

Nightwing sighs. “So that means either whoever it was moved onto somewhere else, which is plausible, or…”

“Or,” Red Hood cuts in, “they found what they were looking for.”