Agent Spider

4. The fourth point of our agenda

Peter woke up with a grunt, he was in his scrawny little apartment in Queens, still. He had received an order to stay put for a few days, to create tension between the Avengers and to see how attached they had already grown towards the assassin. The teen groaned once more and turned around to look at the time. It was Saturday, and he had grown guilty because he disappeared upon Mr. Stark like that. The time was 3:17 in the morning, and Peter couldn't exactly recall why he had woken up so suddenly. Perhaps he had a nightmare or something, but those nasty dreams never really stuck to him for too long.

His fingers reached towards the phone he had received for this mission, he had memorised Mr. Stark's phone numbers and tapped it in. He was pondering whether or not he should actually click on call or not. The room was dark, with the only light coming from the lit up phone screen. After around 30 seconds of inactivity the light disappeared, leaving Peter alone once again in his dark room with nothing but his thoughts.

I should call him, tell him that I'm alright, that a family thing came up. Peter thought. No I shouldn't, the tension is what's good for the mission. His own thoughts shot back. He unlocked his phone again and stared and the oh so familiar number on his screen. The mission, he reminded himself before locking his phone again. He couldn't bulge out of this order now, he couldn't soften up. Not now, not ever. Peter sighed as he squinted his eyes, trying to loosen up his thoughts.

The boy felt bad for doing something like this, but he simply had no choice. He didn't want to go through that. Not again.

***

The boy was there. Only, he was younger. Much younger, perhaps around the age of 10, but he wasn't sure. No one in there new their exact age or even their birthday. Simply because there was no room for that, or time for joy. The boy didn't reassemble his 15 years old self at all. His younger version was shorter, yes, but also much more confident. He was so sure of himself to never screw up any mission, he had already gone on 60 of them. But hell, he regretted his cockiness a lot that moment.

Young Peter was strapped to a chair, one his strength couldn't break out off. He was half conscious, perhaps it was because of the drugs he had been infected with or the beatings he had to bear. The memory of itself was a little fuzzy, but the point was clear. This is what happens when you fail a mission.

Peter was locked up in that room for an entire week, barely surviving of scrapes of food and a little bit of water every day. Because of his enhanced healing, the beating was stronger and more frequenter than it usually was. His entire body was aching, but especially his arm. As one of the last things on the list of punishments, there was a tattoo that had to be applied on the skin. But the tattoo wasn't anything ordinary at all, it was a reminder. A reminder of who he is and what he's supposed to do, but also a reminder of the one time he failed.

The day before his very first mission he was also strapped to a chair. A different one in a whole different room. He was around 8 at that time, and scared for his life. Sure, growing up as a trained super assassin life could be scary, but it become significantly more scarier when you were about to receive a tattoo. On his left arm he got the words property of HYDRA tattooed, and on the right arm on the exact same place their symbol. He was told to wear it with pride, but the first few days he wore it with fear.

And from that day on, he didn't only wear the words property of HYDRA on his left arm anymore, but also the words Agent Spider on the left. On his right arm, between the inside of his elbow and his armpit, he had the spider from his costume tattooed. So he would know who he is, and in some sort of wicked way it helped. Because it never stopped to remind Peter what he actually is. Nothing but a killing machine who only takes orders.