Chapter 7

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Peter was flying through the air as he swung from building to building, his suit fitting his body perfectly as he did. Every few seconds, he'd hear Karen give him directions on the fastest route to Stark Labs.

"Take a left at the next turn, Peter,"

"Thanks, Karen!"

"You are welcome, Peter,"

He instinctively aimed at a building on his left, pulling himself forward as his body automatically twisted and turned to balance himself out in the air. It was amazing to Peter how quickly his body had learned to swing through the air. He remembered, painfully, when he first started. He'd constantly crash into buildings, windows, and even a train on one occasion. Now, his body acted on reflex, as if he'd been doing it since the day he was born. He wondered if this was how Tony felt when he flew his Iron Man suit for the first time.

"Peter, you are about to miss a critical shortcut in reaching the Stark Laboratories within your desired time," Karen told him.

"Shit! Where?!" he asked, his eyes widening. His head turned in every which way, looking for any sign through his mask's visuals.

"On your right," Karen told him.

Five minutes later, Peter was amazed when the famous Stark Labs appeared in the nearby distance. He swung faster, zipping over the fences, not caring to avoid surveillance. Why hide when the "boss man" himself told him to be there? He only had to worry about being seen inside the building, not out of it. He finally landed on top of the roof, his eyes looking around for anything that could get him inside undetected. His first guess was an air vent, but he didn't find anything. Next, he crawled along the sides of the building. For a while, he didn't find anything other than small vents and pipe holes that were barely big enough to fit a rat inside. Then, as if Thor himself were watching over him (which he wasn't, but Peter liked to joke about it anyway), he found a row of windows that were level with the high ceiling.

"Alrightly, in we go..." he whispered to himself as he took a look inside the dimly lit lab.

The room looked nearly identical to how he'd expect a Stark lab to look. It was a giant and spacious room, at least big enough to hold a commercial airplane. Tables were placed in straight lines, loads of expensive gear and gadgets on top of them. Large, high-tech equipment was placed throughout the room, each having the Stark logo stamped on it. In the far-off side of the room was a separate lab that was walled off from the rest of the room. Its windows and glass door appeared to be cracked, but he couldn't see clearly from where he was at the moment.

He leaned back from the window, taking in the actual size of the window. He'd fit through the frame, but just barely. He lifted his hand and placed his palm against the cool glass, pushing against it. It took some extra super strength to force it, but the window eventually slid open, allowing Peter to squeeze through. He crawled along the wall of the lab, eyes searching for anything that could set off an alarm. When he didn't see anything, he continued crawling down the wall before flipping off of it and onto the floor. His landing was soundless, as were his steps as he began to walk around the room, crouching down low in case he had to make an emergency "hit the deck" maneuver. Now that he was inside, he couldn't help but internally fangirl about the fact that he was inside one of Mr. Stark's very own labs. Sure, it was just broken into, and it was dark... and cold... with a bat-shit crazy, high teched, murdering thief on the premises... but it was still cool, nonetheless!

Peter walked towards the rows of lab tables, looking in the space in between them. For a second, it looked like no one was in the room, and then he heard a cough. It was quiet and had a weak and raspy tone to it. His whole body snapped toward the sound, looking for anything that could cause it. He lowered himself, resting his weight on his toes and hands as he moved towards the area where he heard the cough. He hid behind one of the tables at the very end of the rows and peeked his head out from the corner. A man lay on the floor, his white lab coat stained slightly red on his side. He did not attempt to move except for when he breathed. Peter watched as he took in a shallow, shaky breath. The man's stomach was barely rising, as if a small breath alone was too much for him to handle. Peter rushed to the man's side, forgetting about staying hidden and focusing on the man in front of him.

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