Infinity | Spider-Man | 2

TEN

PETER HID IN THE CORNER OF THE SHIP. Hidden from the alien who took the wizard, waiting for the signal Tony will give for him to launch into his part of their plan.
It was risky, sure, but to get back home, to get back to Bronwen, he'd have to do everything and anything he can. Even if that meant—
He shook his head, the signal made, and launched from his spot.

∆ ∆ ∆

Bronwen paced the length of the ship, hands shaking as they flew to their destination. She was anxious, cars were one thing, sure, but the length of the plane was only so big and she could feel the walls pressing in on her.
If only they allowed her to teleport to where they were going.
Her feet were the only sound inside, the rest either focused on flying the actual ship or seated along the sides.
She would kill for music.
The steady hum of the ship accompanied her footsteps, the wind rushing past on the exterior of the ship roared in her blood. Bronwen wanted to speak, to talk to someone her age or with her experience. Someone who could understand.
Bronwen wanted Peter so much. Her heart ached as she thought of how far he was away now. Drifting off in space, with no way home.
No way home.
She paused at that thought, hearing heads turn toward her, material shifting.
No way home.
She couldn't save him. Couldn't teleport that far to reach him. Bronwen didn't even know where he was.
He could be millions of lightyears away for all she knew.
No way home.
There was no reason for her to think otherwise, he was on a spaceship, with enough fuel to make it back to the larger ship it came from, meaning that those they were preparing to go against would be swarming inside said ship.
And Peter would never make it out alive.
Her hands clenched into fists, and she sank to the floor in the centre of the ship.
Peter would never make it out alive.
Bronwen didn't flinch as a hand was set on her shoulder. She did not take notice as a blonde-haired woman came to her knees before her.
"Hey."

Nat.

"How you doing?"

Bronwen's mouth tightened, that question had a lengthy answer. Though she felt it wasn't their duty to look after a semi-stable sixteen year old, so she put on a brave face and smiled. "Hanging on."

Natasha Romanoff did not say any more beside pull Bronwen into a hug. Sure, the blonde was known for her violence and a large red ledger, but she understood what Bronwen had gone through. Growing up in a cruel, competitive environment, to being thrown into the world with no direction to go.
Clint was there for Nat, and now she would be there for Bronwen. Every step of the way.

∆ ∆ ∆

Peter was still in the newcomers arm, a mask over their face, with two other companions who looked far from human.
"Alright, everybody, stay where you are. Chill the F out." With one hand pointed at Peter, the masked man uses the other to press a button which contracted his mask, revealing his very human looking face. But who knows, the man could've had an extra arm or something. "I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where's Gamora?"

Tony, who held a hand before him, watching the man, retracted his helmet, "Yeah, I'll do you one better, Who's Gamora?"

A man in blue, well, he looked like a man, spoke, "I'll do you one better! Why is Gamora?"

"Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I'm gonna French-fry this little freak." Peter squirmed in that man's arms— no way was he going to become a French-fry. He had Bronwen to return to, and he silently made himself promise to return in one piece.