2. A Love, a Father, and a Legacy (Peter Parker)

Chapter 2

I cringed at the echoing sound of my shoes on the tiled floors as I walked past the guest rooms. I looked up and saw Peter's door, stopping to stare at it longingly. I knew he was inside. His Aunt May had gone to visit one of her friends upstate and didn't want to leave Peter alone in their apartment. I fought the urge to open the door.

Bling Bling Bling "Shit." I whisper-yelled, reaching my hand into my pocket, pulling out my phone, scrambling for the silencer. I sighed in relief as the sound died. I held it up, seeing Sarah Hales's name flashed across the screen. She was my best friend from Midtown, probably calling to tell me about the new clothes she got while in Los Angeles. She didn't quite understand the concept of time zones.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" I jumped at the sound of Peter's voice.

"Jeez Peter, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" I resumed walking, half hoping he wouldn't come after me, half hoping he would.

"Not so fast." Peter wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up, throwing me over one shoulder. This seemed to be a very popular method of carrying me among guys. I tried to struggle out of his grasp, kicking wildly, but it was useless. Peter could stop a bus with nothing but his hands if he wanted to, there was no way I was getting away. Eventually, I let myself go limp, hoping I could just fall out of his grasp but instead he continued walking.

"Can you put me down please?" I reached around and covered his eyes with my hands, trying to get him to stop walking. Instead, he put his hands on the wall and continued down the hallway to the elevators. I let out a noise of irritation and dropped my hand.

"Shh. We don't want to wake Wanda. Last time I accidentally woke her up she threw me against the wall and slammed the door in my face. She was so loud the rest of the Avengers woke up none too pleased with the new kid."

I smiled but didn't say anything else. Finally, we got to the elevator. In the mirror on the back wall I was able to see Peter press the button for the basement, a floor I had never been allowed on.

Samantha Jones does not have access to this floor.

"Override?" Peter answered the AI clearly unsure that it would work.

Override accepted. Beginning descent to the basement.

"I didn't think that would work." Peter caught my eye in the mirror with a smile that resembled that of a little kid who had just been told he could stay up an hour past his bedtime.

"Why am I not allowed to go down here? Nobody ever told me what this place is. Honestly, I thought it was like Tony's secret lab or something." Peter finally let me climb off his shoulder. I landed on the floor of the elevator with a clunk.

Peter shrugged. "It's the training room, but I'm not sure why you don't have access. Maybe Tony or your mom don't want you getting hurt?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sounds about right."

The elevator door opened revealing a massive room. It resembled a high school gymnasium in that its ceiling was lost among rafters and heating vents dozens of feet in the air. The far corner struck me as the oddest, with a wall reaching far higher than the roof I could see. In another corner, there was a rack of arrows and two combat bows complete with a dozen person-shaped targets. Next to these racks was a very large set of knives, all different lengths, each one looking more unsettling than the last. A few feet away from the targets was a row of beat-up punching bags, with a set of replacements laying against the wall, reminding me of soldiers watching their charges. On the opposite side of the room there were a bunch of random objects including metal boxes, spare dummies, and wood planks, obviously used to help Wanda practice her levitating. The whole room was a blanket of blacks and greys, made of metal and foam padding.

"This is incredible! I'm seriously talking to Tony about not letting me come down here. But why are we down here at," I paused and looked at my phone. "2:37?"

"Because you're mad about something, so you're going to punch until you cry or start talking. I don't care which." Peter gestured to the punching bags.

"You're kidding, right? I'm not doing that." I turned around to get back on the elevator, but the sound of a web flying past my ear to cover the doors stopped me. I looked around to see Peter smirking with his web shooters on his wrist.

"Do you carry those everywhere you go?"

"No," He responded, his tone slightly hurt. "I have a set down here for practice. But sadly I don't have anything to dissolve it with so we're stuck here for at least two hours. Now start punching."

I groaned but went over to the punching bags. Peter lifted a pair of boxing gloves, waving them in front of my face. I ripped them out of his hands, giving him an annoyed look. He laughed and followed behind me as I stepped up next to one of the punching bags.

"If I start talking now do I have to punch?"

"No, but I doubt you're going to open up that easy."

"You know me way to well." I lifted my arm and struck the bag as hard as I could.

"Harder." Peter stepped closer to me, so close that I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

"That was as hard as I could."

He either didn't believe me or didn't care. "Harder."

I punched it again with equal force.

"Harder."

I punched a third time, still using the same amount of force.

"What part of harder do you not understand?"

"What if I punched you? What did the punching bag ever do to me?"

"What did I ever do to you?" He clearly was hurt now.

I didn't say anything. Instead, I turned back to the bag and punched again. I waited for Peter to say "harder" again but he didn't. I hit it over, and over, until my hands began to ache from the force.

I paused, leaning against the bag for support as I tried to catch my breath. Who knew punching took so much effort?

"Again." Peter's voice was stern and he no longer had any expression on his face. He had walked around to stand behind the punching bag, holding it steady for me.

"What are you, my trainer?" I glared at him. I didn't understand why he was making me do this. What was punching a stupid bag going to do? How was this supposed to solve my problem?

"You know what I am? I'm the guy who's asking, begging you, to tell him what's wrong. The guy who has accepted that you've been going through something and has stuck by you. The guy who has done everything he could to be a good boyfriend. The guy who just wants to know what is upsetting the girl he loves with all of his heart!" The words spilled from him in a current of pent-up air.

Tears formed in my eyes as I watched Peter look at the ground, out of breath. I reached up to punch the bag again but all my strength left me. I looked over at Peter and saw that he was crying too and without hesitation, I fell into his arms. He squeezed me so hard I felt like my ribs were going to break, but in that moment I wouldn't have cared if they had shattered. I just let him hold me as I cried into his arms, releasing all the pain that had been building up inside of me. Finally, he loosened his grasp and his breathing slowed.

When I was finally able to speak I couldn't think of any words but, "I'm so sorry." 

Author's Note

Here's another chapter for you guys! These chapters seem longer than the ones in my other book which I guess is probably okay with you guys. Anyway, I know that I'm not posting as quickly but it's because I'm taking more time to edit the chapters. Be on the look out for the next chapter and don't forget to vote and comment!