Of Life And Hope

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"Wave," the man woke you from your thoughts.

"Yes, sir."

"You're leaving in an hour."

-~:~-

6 months.

6 anguishing months had passed since the incident and there was still no trace of you and no hints of any possible attacks.

The Avengers were out, searching for anything to give them a hint about the future because in all honesty, the peace seemed like the calm before the storm.

Peter, however, was at the Facility, Doozy hovering above his shoulder as he worked on a school project. He would've done it at home but he had access to more information there and he liked the space.

"Doozy, what do you think of this?" he asked, showing a diagram to the origami bird.

Doozy scanned it for a moment before projecting a text into the air.

"I see a mistake at point 5," Peter muttered to himself, reading the message and then looking back at the diagram. "Thank you, Doozy."

More than once he had thought about programming a voice for your companion but every time he realized how wrong it would've felt to remake a thing you had invented.

The doors behind him opened but he didn't turn around. "Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted, his eyes still fixated on the screens, "I didn't expect you guys back so early."

No answer, no footsteps. Peter raised his eyes and from the tinted glass wall, he could see a reflection of himself, Doozy, and a feminine figure at the door. He quietly and swiftly pulled up his sleeves, then stretched, as if taking a break, and turned around.

A split second later, he had shot a web. To his surprise, the girl had dodged it and continued moving towards a cupboard.

He knew what was in that cupboard for he had seen the file being placed there. It didn't take him long to click together the puzzle pieces - of course HYDRA would want the file back.

"Doozy, contact Mr. Stark," he ordered before approaching his enemy to engage in hand-to-hand combat because webs clearly weren't working.

As you dodged a hit of his, you bumped against a bookshelf and the neck part of your shirt got torn. You didn't feel anything due to the metal that was put to the side of your neck, going up to your right ear, after the accident. You knew you wouldn't have lived without HYDRA building you up like that but you also knew that they had a controlling chip there, that being another way for them to control you and monitor you at all times.

You grunted as you got up, pushing a small button in the metal for further protection.

Everything started feeling painful and itchy but you still threw a punch at Peter, used to the process of the metal, vibranium, to be exact, covering your entire body as a shield. The metal was pretty much flowing through your blood and now stabbing through your skin to cover your body like it was programmed to. You didn't know exactly how, but you suspected that each clump of liquid iron had a little chip in it.

Peter got in a hit across your face and your mask flew off. He stumbled back. "Y/n?"

A part of your brain seemed to buzz with information but you ignored it and walked around the dumbfounded boy, going to the safe.

"No, Y/n, don't," you heard him stutter, trying to grab your arm but that only resulted in him ripping your sleeve and showing more metal. You could feel the waves radiating off of the metal around your body and controlled it to climb up your face now that the mask was gone.

"Y/n, please, this isn't you," he pleaded, coming to block your way.

You glared at him. "I don't know the girl you're talking about," you said, your voice quiet due to the somewhat difficult movement of your lips. You tried to go around him to get to the cupboard.

He grabbed your arm with his hand but you shook it off. "I don't want to hurt you," you snapped.

That was true - something inside you had always been fighting against hurting people and you felt the feeling getting stronger by the minute as you were away from the HYDRA facility that you had grown to call home.

Peter spotted something out of his peripheral vision and took a step back, frowning. You were about to turn around to see what it was when you were knocked out, a force hitting the back of your head that you had so foolishly left unprotected.