Be There For You {Book Two}

Suspicion

 *Okokok so I know last chapter was poorly written, I hated reading it back. But no matter how poorly executed it was it's been planned since the chapter where Natasha got poisoned; read everything back and it might make a little more subtle sense (hopefully). Anyway, I hope your weeks have been good (at this point I've accepted in shit at updating). Love you all, hope you enjoy this.*

No One's POV

The cell that Peter had slowly started to recognise as his final resting place seemed to be getting dimmer and darker by the day. Though it was Boxing Day, it felt like months had already gone by since Christmas. Using the small, chipped rock, Peter dragged it slowly down the wall, marking another day gone by. Cold sunlight created a pool in the centre of the stone floor, shining through the snowflakes still falling. Even the settled snow on his 'windowsill' looked grey.

A guard banged his baton against the bars of Peter's cell, "202 вас попросили встретиться с Доктором." (202 you have been requested to meet with the Doctor)

Hauling himself off the floor he still chose to sleep on, Peter responded with a grunt. Dirt covered and cold Peter waited at the bars for the guard to let him out. It was understood that the guard was to walk him as far as he had clearance before someone else took over. The only noise that echoed down the halls was the sound of the guards' boots and the softer pitter patter of Peter's numb, bare, feet. All too aware that the man next to him had a fully loaded gun, Peter kept his breathing even and his head high despite the loss of dignity with every step. Everything about the new Peter felt different not only on the inside: his hair was longer and raggedy, nails ripped and filled with dust, skin paler from the lack of light however it was almost impossible to tell due to the amount of dirt that had accumulated on his skin through sweat and just lack of access to a shower, heavy bags under his eyes, rough stubble that started to grow, and the amount of weight he had lost. Peter looked like a mix between a 12-year-old boy that hadn't learned to shave and a smaller, dirtier Slender Man.

The guard exchanged him over to an even scarier looking man with a larger gun. However, this new guard seemed almost happier, as if this wasn't a prison keeping and abusing boys who didn't want to be there. Turning to look at the bigger guard and looking more closely Peter noticed subtle differences from what he spotted amongst the 'normal' guards; the most obvious being a bullet wound scar on the side of his temple and the ear-splitting grin that no matter how high it reached it somehow didn't get to his eyes. The realisation mad his blood feel uneasy and his heartbeat he's one of the old agents that was stuffed in a tube and cheated out of death.

"Come in." Bruce's voice said through the door of which they had just knocked. It was a heavy metal that had numerous amounts of locks on which Peter wished to know why Bruce would need as many considering everyone/thing in the base was under his control.

Peter slid into the room with the guard following, "You wanted to see me."

"Well, I actually thought you would want to speak to me."

"You thought wrong... sir." Peter dared to speak.

Bruce grinned, "Did I?" Before Peter could answer Bruce turned to the guard, "You may go now."

"My orders are to keep you protected from threats, sir." The grinning man spoke robotically.

Bruce shook his head, "No need, no threat in here."

Peter clenched his fists. I am a threat to you, Bruce Banner.

"Yes, sir." The guard left them alone.

"Please, have a seat." Bruce gestured to seat on the opposite side of the desk. Reluctantly, Peter took it.

They sat in silence for five minutes, Bruce brewing and pouring tea for the both of them before offering Peter a mug which Peter refused. Finally, Bruce sighed. "I assumed you would have questions and seeming that you're the product lies I would have a guess you're not fond of them. So, ask me anything."