Not So Friendly Anymore

Chapter 24: Battle of Wakanda I

The Quinjet hummed softly as it soared through the sky, cutting through clouds like a silent predator. Inside, the Avengers sat in uneasy silence, each person consumed by their thoughts.

On one side of the cabin, Peter sat comfortably with Hulk and Thor flanking him. Hulk sat like a mountain, arms crossed and a quiet confidence radiating from him. Thor, relaxed but regal as ever, rested Mjolnir across his knee, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he cast a glance at Peter. There was no judgment in his gaze, only pride. Both of them admired Peter's evolution, his resolve, and his refusal to be anyone's pawn. Peter Parker had become his own man, and they respected him for it.

On the opposite side of the Quinjet, a much different atmosphere lingered. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Jennifer Walters, Hank Pym, and Tony Stark sat in stiff silence. Each wore their own version of disapproval, or anger.

Steve sat with his hands clasped, jaw tight, concern written clearly on his face. Natasha, ever composed, leaned back in her seat but her eyes betrayed her unease. She hadn't spoken a word since boarding, her thoughts undoubtedly replaying the Raft and what Peter had become.

Jennifer sat next to Natasha, her brows furrowed and arms folded. This Peter Parker was unlike the man she'd heard about, kind, compassionate, almost naive. To her, this version of him was unrecognizable, and she couldn't hide her unease. 'What happened to you, Parker?' she wondered.

Clint and Tony, on the other hand, practically radiated animosity. Tony's fists were clenched against his knees, the hum of his armor subtly betraying his agitation. The memory of his hacked systems and downed arc reactor replayed over and over in his head, each loop igniting a fresh wave of fury. That Spider-Man, a man Tony had always dismissed as the kid trying to play in the big leagues, could have done that to him burned his pride like acid. Worse still, he hadn't been able to find the virus Peter implanted. It was an insult Stark couldn't let go.

Clint sat beside him, his eyes narrowed as he stared daggers at Peter's back. The archer's jaw tightened every time he replayed Peter's humiliating comments, bringing up Jessica Drew and Bobbi Morse, twisting the knife with insults he couldn't shake. He'd love to see Parker stumble in this mission. 'Maybe then you'll learn some damn humility.'

And then there was Hank Pym, arms crossed and head held high. Out of all of them, he seemed the most unmoved, dismissing Peter entirely. To Hank, Peter Parker was still a child, a reckless brat playing with toys he didn't understand. He didn't even see Peter's rise as threatening; it was insulting. In his mind, Peter had no idea what he was doing, and the moment he failed, Hank would be there to smugly remind him.

Peter, for his part, was unbothered. He sat comfortably, arms resting on his knees, posture relaxed. Unlike the others, his mind was already prepared for the battle ahead. Every possibility accounted for. Every contingency planned.

The silence was broken when Peter's wrist communicator buzzed softly. Without a word, he stood up and walked toward the back of the Quinjet, leaving the others to stew in their thoughts. He answered the call, and a small hologram of Silver Sable flickered to life, her sharp, elegant features softened only slightly by her concern.

"Peter," she said, her voice calm but carrying the weight of someone who cared deeply. "Are you ready?"

Peter gave a faint smirk. "Always."

"Good." Her voice dropped slightly, her worry evident. "Be careful out there. Hydra is never predictable."

From behind her, Susan Storm and Franklin Richards appeared on the screen. Susan gave Peter a reassuring smile. "We'll take care of things here, Peter. Don't worry about New York."