[DISCONTINUED] Invincible ➳ Peter Parker

3 ~ A Different Kind of Scare

I sprinted outside, even though my legs were turning to jelly. The gunshot was still ringing through my ears. I rounded the corner, eyes set on the park bench I left Peter by, fearing the worst.

But he wasn't there.

A strangled cry escaped my throat and I dashed across the street. I snapped my head left and right, searching for any sign of Peter, but he had vanished. My stomach did a flip and I staggered to the trash can, emptying my stomach of its contents.

I knelt to the ground, using the trash can as support. "Callisto, call Dad," I ordered between breaths.

"Calling Tony Stark..."

After 2 rings, he picked up. "Hey, Ca—"

"Dad, someone took Peter," I sobbed.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean someone took him! He's gone..."

He was silent for a moment. "I'll be there in 5 minutes." The line went dead.

Carefully I stood, and with weak legs, I walked to the bench to sit down, when something reflected light from the sidewalk and caught my eye. When I was close enough to see what it was, I just about passed out.

It was Peter's phone.

Laying in a pool of blood.

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure?" Dad pressed.

"Yes, I'm sure," Dr. Banner repeated. "They go 4 blocks south, and then the signal vanishes."

I paced in front of the desk. Pacing was a bad nervous habit of mine. "So that's it? That's all we have?"

Dr. Banner glanced nervously at Dad, who was deep in thought, staring at the screen, before turning back to me. "Right now, yeah. Uh, listen, Camella, maybe you should go get some sleep. We'll know more tomorrow when we go investigate, and you kinda look like crap..."

"Sleep. Yes, great idea, Banner," Dad piped in, still staring at the screen.

"You, too, Tony. You also look like crap."

"What? No, I drank, like, 5 Red-Bulls. I'm fine." Dad waved his hand dismissively.

It was 2 in the morning, a few hours after Peter's abduction. So far, all we had gathered is that whoever kidnapped him used a burner phone to contact me, and its signal was lost a few blocks after they drove away. Oh, and it was my fake dad who took him. That was a given.

"Sleep? I don't know if I'll ever sleep again," I mumbled. The recollection of the rush of fear I felt when the gunshot sounded flashed through my mind.

A hand landed on my shoulder and I flinched.

"Sorry," Dad mumbled. "Look, honey, maybe you should just try to sleep. What?" He noticed me looking at him funny.

"You called me 'honey'," I pointed out.

"I did? Wow, maybe I should get some sleep..."

I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully, then left the room to go to bed. As I trudged down the hall, I heard one more exchange.

"You totally did that on purpose."

"Shut up, Banner."

* * *

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Finally, I did manage to fall asleep, but my dream was horrible.

I was in a huge, dark building, running through a maze of corridors. I was trying to follow Peter's voice, who was begging for me to help him, but the direction it came from changed every time. I screamed his name until my throat was raw, and I felt like I was running through molasses.

I woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. I looked at my clock, seeing that it was almost 11 am. I showered quickly and made my way to the conference room, where I assumed everyone would be.

Halfway there, I felt an uneasy churning of my stomach. Groaning, I dashed into the nearest bathroom and violently heaved over the toilet bowl.

Somewhere in between the gagging, I heard the door click open and someone enter.

"Wh—Camella?" It was Dad. He rushed to my side, pulling my hair behind me. "Are you okay? What—"

Suddenly he froze, and knelt down beside me. "Camella, are you pregnant?"

I stared at the white porcelain in horror for a moment, catching my breath. "No."

"You hesitated."

"No, I didn't!" I insisted. "It—we—I—I'm not pregnant!"

Dad sat back on his haunches, narrowing his eyes. "Wait, so does this mean that you and Peter—"

"Dad! That's not the point!" I felt my cheeks heat up. "There's no way I'm pregnant, okay?"

He stayed silent for a minute, still staring at me. I was starting to think he was debating whether or not he should kill me when he spoke again.

"Take a test."

I stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"I'll believe it when I see it. Take a test," he repeated. 

I rolled my eyes. "Do you have any?"

"Er, no. But I'm sure I can find some. Stay here." He stood and briskly left the bathroom.

Fabulous, I thought. My boyfriend is god knows where and I'm sitting here, about to take a fucking pregnancy test. I mean, what's the point? We used protection.

Then why am I so nervous?

Five minutes later, he returned with a box of pregnancy tests. 

When I gave him a quizzical look, he handed it to me and shrugged, simply saying "Pepper had a scare one time."

Dad waited outside for me while I did my business. I anxiously waited those few minutes for the results, my leg bouncing up and down. The stick beeped and the results were displayed on the screen.

Negative. 

I released the breath I'd been holding. Okay, so no bun in the oven. But then what's with all the queasiness and mood swings? Chucking the stick along with the rest of the box in the trash, I exited the bathroom. Just a few paces down the hall was Dad, waiting nervously. I approached him, trying to keep my face as blank as possible. 

When I came to a stop, he made a face, preparing for the worst. I broke into a smirk. 

"Congratulations, you are not the grandfather."

"Oh, thank fuck," he breathed out in relief. He stuck a hand out, leaning on the wall dramatically.

"So..." I drawled as he regained his composure.

He held a finger up. "Never speak of this again."

"Speak of what?"

"That's the spirit. Come on, everyone's waiting for us."

{edited 13/12/20}