Of Choices and Tribulations

Chapter 4

Peter Parker

Peter was relieved that he got Dr. Cho in the fridge when he did, a second later it would have been too late. Grabbing the nearest thing he could find - a rag by the counter - he held it over his face, trying to breath in as little of the gas as possible. He knew it wasn't going to work since he was locked into the lab, but it was a basic instinct to survive.

The gas was thick in appearance and gray in colour. Nothing too unusual from what Peter expected. He was holding his breath for the longest time in addition to using the rag, but eventually, he was forced to inhale it. To Peter's surprise, it wasn't a pungent smell at all, but instead, a sweet fragrance, like Magnolias. Didn't the most deadly stuff smell really nice though?

Peter was rewarded for his deduction with a cough. And another. The rag wasn't doing much, he realized, since he was already breathing it in, so moved to toss it aside.

There was a pounding sound which drew Peter's attention to the glass pane to his right; Mr. Stark was looking at him with both fear and distress. Peter could tell his mentor wanted to do something, break through the glass even, but he didn't, he couldn't. The gas was isolated in the AC-Lab right now and getting Peter out, it meant releasing the gas to the rest of those in the X-Lab.

Peter didn't want to feel emotional, he wanted to look brave, feel brave, show Mr. Stark that he was okay, that he wasn't scared. But that wasn't true. He was scared. But not scared enough to think about breaking out of the lab and having more people die along with him. Peter's breathing had grown steadily more laboured and the cough had also increased in frequency. After a painful cough that ripped through him, Peter by instinct covered his mouth with his hand. When it came away, he saw red. Oh. Not good .

Peter tried to hide the blood, wiped it on his already rather ruined shirt but he knew that Mr. Stark saw, his eyes said it all. He was blaming himself for this, Peter could see that he was. No, thought Peter, don't let this one be on you. It's not your fault! It's that crazy lunatic Quinn that's to blame. I chose this. I'm Spiderman remember. It's my job to protect people. Peter tried to say the words, but each time he tried, he only coughed harder. He didn't want that asshat Quinn to win. Wasn't that what the man wanted? To see Mr. Stark break?

It was starting to get harder for Peter to stay on his feet, despite wanting not to give into the fatigue. But the bloodloss and the gas together were not a good combination and he reluctantly gave in. Slowly he slid downwards, his back leaned against the lab table, and his face towards the glass pane. He looked at his mentor's anguished and pained face, and just wished he could change what was happening. Mr. Stark kept pounding against the glass, turning every once in a while to shout at someone Peter couldn't see. Yet the man never left Peter out of his sight, he always returned his steady gaze on to Peter. He wanted Peter to hold on. To tell him that help was coming.

Mr. Stark, I'm sorry , thought Peter. He wanted to not let his mentor down, hold out, be strong. But it was becoming so hard, each breath he took, it was growing more and more painful. Every part of Peter's being wanted to live. He didn't want to die, and least of all on Tony Stark's watch. This isn't on you, Tony, please don't feel that it is. It was probably the first time Peter was able to say his mentors' first name, even though it was only in his mind. It seemed to always elude him when he actually spoke to man. It was because he was used to calling him Mr. Stark, a title of respect. To call him Tony, it seemed too casual, like he would call someone who was his friend. Friend. Yeah, Tony was Peter's friend, but more than that really. He was someone that Peter really looked up to and admired. Much like his Uncle Ben.