Spider-Man : BloodWrath

Calling Bob

FLASHBACK

THE RAFT

PETER's CELL

The cell door slid open with a faint metallic groan, and Maria Hill stepped inside, the stark lighting casting sharp shadows across the room. Her eyes immediately fell on Peter, who was in the middle of a set of single-arm pushups. He wore a white tank top, his orange prison jumpsuit peeled down and tied loosely around his waist. The muscles of his back and remaining arm flexed with each movement, his body recovering quickly from the injuries sustained in the constant skirmishes with inmates.

Maria's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than she intended, her mind briefly flashing back to a heated encounter between them...a moment of weakness that had taken place right in this very cell. The memory was vivid: Peter's body pressed against hers, his anger and frustration melting into something more raw, more primal. She quickly blinked it away, refocusing on the present.

Peter, sensing her presence, pushed off the floor and sat back on his knees, wiping the sweat from his brow. His left side, where his arm had once been, was scarred, a reminder of his violent past, but his injuries from the previous day were already healing. He was silent, not acknowledging her as he pulled the tank top over his head and tossed it aside, his body still tense, his face hard with unspoken frustration.

Maria crossed her arms, her tone measured but edged with concern. "Your wounds from yesterday... they're already healed."

Peter didn't look at her, his body language closed off as he reached for a bottle of water by the bed. "Good for me, I guess," he muttered before taking a drink.

She didn't miss a beat. "I need to talk to you about what happened during your session with Emma."

Peter paused mid-sip, then slammed the bottle down on the metal table beside him, his patience clearly wearing thin. "There's nothing to talk about."

Maria stepped closer, her posture firm but not aggressive. "It's important, Peter. If we can figure out what's going on in your head...why you're reacting like this...maybe we can help. Maybe we can prove you were innocent..."

Peter shot up from his position, his eyes narrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't want anyone poking around in my head, Maria!" he snapped, his voice filled with raw anger.

Maria didn't flinch, though the force behind his words was palpable. She took a breath, keeping her voice steady. "Look, I get it. But this isn't just about you. If we can prove you weren't responsible for what happened while Octavius was in control..."

Peter cut her off, stepping closer, his tone laced with bitterness. "And why the hell do you care so much about proving I was innocent? You're the one who wanted me behind bars, Maria. You hunted me when you were Director of SHIELD, remember? So what's this really about? You angling to get your seat back as Director? You think helping me gets you leverage?" His words were biting, each one fueled by a mix of hurt and rage.

Maria's jaw tightened, but she didn't back down. She met his anger head-on, her gaze steady. "This isn't about me trying to climb back up the SHIELD ladder, Peter. It's about doing what's right. You were wrongfully imprisoned...thrown in here with criminals who don't give a damn about who you used to be."

Peter scoffed, pacing the small cell like a caged animal. "You think I give a shit about what's right anymore? Do you have any idea what it feels like to lose everything, to be betrayed by people you thought were your friends? And now, you come in here, playing the part of someone who wants to help, but all you're doing is dredging up shit I'd rather forget."