Peter stepped out of the medical wing, taking one last look through the observation window. Carol was already asleep. He knew she'd never admit it, but smacking him around had worn her out. She was getting worse.
Now that she was back in bed, Peter could feel himself stoking the embers of his fury. He needed to get that data back. He turned on his heel and was about to start back to the common room, but paused when he saw Steve and Jessica walking toward him. "Steve," he said, "I'm sorry about how I acted before, I…"
"Don't worry about it, son," Steve said, clapping a hand on Peter's shoulder. "We all have those ones that get to us."
Peter nodded. "Yeah, I suppose," he said.
Steve gestured back down the hall. "Alright, Avenger, let's get you debriefed."
"Wait," Jessica said, grabbing Peter's wrist.
Peter had nearly forgotten she was standing there. "Hey, Jess," he said, "Carol just fell asleep, if you were planning to head in."
"Thanks, Pete, I think I might just go sit with her for a while," she said. To his surprise, she pulled him close and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder. "You're going after Doom, right?" she whispered.
He nodded into her black hair.
She moved her lips closer to his ear. "Make the son of a bitch pay," she said. She pulled away from him, gripping both his hands in hers for a second. "For Carol."
Peter nodded his assent, and he had to wonder what kind of expression he was wearing, because Jessica actually looked a little afraid. She let him go to walk into the medical wing, and Peter turned around to follow Steve.
They avoided walking back through the common room, instead walking straight to the meeting room. Once inside, Steve took a seat at the large circular table and gestured for Peter to do the same. Comparisons to the legendary Knights of the Round Table were easy to make, as the Avengers literally met around a giant round table with an impression of the stylized "A" logo in it. Peter took the seat a few chairs down from Steve, so that he was sitting at the six o'clock position while Steve was at nine o'clock.
"How did Doom find out about the file?" Steve asked.
Ok, straight to the heart of it, then. "I have no idea, Steve. I've been in the lab for the past week, you know that."
Steve's fingers were interlaced and his arms were resting on the table. Peter could see the muscle in his forearms tightening like construction cables. "And you didn't tell anyone at your work? You didn't tell your Aunt?"
Peter rubbed his eyes. He was so tired. "Steve, I didn't tell Carol, and it's her life I'm trying to save."
"Dammit," Steve said, rising from his chair. "I'm sorry to grill you like this, Peter. I just have to be sure. Your boss doesn't keep security feeds in the labs?"
Peter shook his head. "Nope. Each lab is completely autonomous. As long as you provide something Horizon can use to turn a profit, they don't care how you do it."
Steve sighed. "That settles it, then. The leak came from somewhere inside S.H.I.E.L.D."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I have double agent in my organization," Steve said. "One who's working for Doom."
Peter rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, no offense, Cap," he said, "But I'm pretty sure you've got guys working for Hydra, and A.I.M., and anybody else who doesn't like you."
"Of course I do," Steve said, "But at least I know who those agents are."
Peter was silent for a long moment. "Come again?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Steve waved a hand at him. "The double agents working for those organizations are sloppy. I've known who they are for quite some time. Most often I feed them false information to give to their superiors. On occasion I've had to give them something small but legitimate that would pan out in their favor, just so their bosses don't think their covers have been blown."
Peter shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "Wait," he said, "You're telling me you keep these guys on the S.H.I.E.L.D. payroll just so you can keep tabs on them?"
"You're missing the point, Peter," Steve said. "The agent working for Doom is actually good at his job. I have no idea how long he's been in place, much less who he is."
Scratching at the stubble on his chin, Peter said, "Can we get back to what this means for our current problem?"
Steve gripped the back of a chair. "It means we have to leave. Soon. Within the hour."
Peter felt adrenaline coursing back through his veins. "Good. I'll go get my gear and meet you upstairs."
Steve grabbed Peter's arm as he tried to leave the room. "Wait. You can't tell anyone that we're leaving or where we're going," he said. He let go of Peter and crossed his arms over his chest. "The rest of the team assumes we're going after Doom anyway, but they don't know that we're leaving right now. I don't know how far up the chain his mole has access, nor whether he's tapped into the Avengers' communications."
Peter raised his eyebrows.
"Once we're gone, we're going to have be radio silent with the rest of the team," Steve said. "No cavalry. We can't risk Doom's agent learning vital information or alerting Doom to our presence. Obviously we're just hoping to get in, get the data, and get out, but I don't see things going that way."
Peter crossed his arms. "Ok," he said. "You and me," he pointed at Cap, then himself.
"You and me," Steve repeated.
"On our own," Peter said.
"On our own," Steve repeated again.
"Busting into Castle Doom and getting Carol's cure back," Peter said, taking a step toward Steve.
Cap held up his arm, his hand cupped but open. "Damn right," he said.
The popping sound echoed in the meeting room as Peter clasped Steve's hand. "Let's do it."
XXXXXX
Half an hour later, Peter and Steve were both in their red and blues, meeting outside the Quinjet hanger. Steve had the shield strapped to his back, as well as his belt of extra munitions. Peter had put on his belt of extra web cartridges, as well as checking the spares in the web shooters to make sure they were full.
Standing outside the door, Steve said, "Are you ready?"
Peter was holding his mask in his hands. "Absolutely."
Steve nodded in the direction he'd come down the hallway. "You sure you don't wanna check in one more time? Medical's just down the hall. I've got to flight check the Quinjet before we can leave anyway."
Peter looked down at the blank lenses of his mask. His thumbs rubbed the stretchy red material. "No, I'm ok. You said we shouldn't tell anybody we were leaving."
A gloved hand fell on Peter's shoulder. "Peter," Steve said, "You won't be able to get any updates on her condition once we're gone." Steve pulled on Peter's arm, forcing him down the hallway. "Go check on her."
His footsteps were silent going down the hall, but they were slow. Peter wasn't sure about this. Taking on Doom with just Cap as backup? No problem. Talking to Carol one last time before leaving? He'd rather try to crawl up a water spout.
He looked through the observation window and saw that she was still sleeping. The darkness in the room was thick, almost seeming to creep up the walls, but the soft glow of the machines illuminated her as she lay in bed. Stepping through the door, he found his grip on his mask had tightened, almost to the point where he could crack the lenses. He set the red material on the table next to her bed and sat down in the chair. He rested his elbows on his knees, his chin on his entwined fingers. After a few minutes of just looking at her, he sighed. "They say that people in comas can still hear when their friends and family talk to them. I don't know if that applies to sleeping people, but I'm actually kind of hoping it doesn't." He reached his hand forward, brushing a strand of short blond hair out of her face. "Because I don't think I would stop stammering long enough to say this to you when you're awake."
Her breathing was steady, and Peter could see her eyes rapidly moving back and forth beneath the lids. She was dreaming.
"Carol," he said. "I've never known a woman like you. Sure, I've met plenty of strong women, but not many who were also selfless, and kind, and loyal, and so marvelously beautiful, inside and out."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm… in awe of you. All the time. You inspire me, make me want to be a better hero, a better person. Your friendship has meant more to me than I can ever put into words. And that friendship," he paused, sighing. He'd said so much already, why was the rest so much harder? "Is why I will never tell you how drawn I am to you." He reached out and took her hand in his, careful of the I.V. tube. "How much I want to hold your hand, to make you laugh and smile. How much I want to be the first person you think of when you wake in the morning and the face clouding your memories as you drift off to sleep."
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and sniffed. "My life has been filled with a lot of dark," he said. "And in that dark there have been very few bright lights. But the biggest and brightest of those has been you, Carol. And I can't thank you enough."
He stood from the chair and grabbed his mask. Leaning down, he planted a small kiss on her forehead, then rested his brow against hers. "I will save you," he said. "I don't care if Doom brings every bastard version of himself from every bastard dimension he can think of, I will get that cure back and I will save you."
Turning, Peter slowly walked out of the room, each breath racking his body from nerves. The further he got from the medical wing, the less it affected him, but the energy, the adrenaline was still there. Well, at least I can admit it to myself.
Back in Carol's room, Jessica Drew sat in the shadowy corner, her hand over her mouth. She'd been resting there, in the dark, waiting for Carol to wake up, and had dozed off, but Peter's voice woke her. She would've liked to tell herself she couldn't believe what she'd just heard, but she absolutely could. She'd seen the way Peter would look at her best friend, seen how his eyes would rest on her face, or her hair, and how he'd get that stupid grin every time he saw her. What she couldn't believe was that he didn't know how much Carol would have loved to hear what he'd said. Because even if Carol didn't know it, or wouldn't admit it, Jessica knew how Carol felt about Peter. She saw it in how Carol would watch him when no one else was looking, or in how Carol would slowly gravitate in his direction whenever they were in the same room (sometimes literally: Jessica had seen Carol absentmindedly floating toward Peter on more than one occasion). She heard it in the way Carol would laugh with him like she'd never laughed before, watched as Peter broke through (or perhaps climbed over?) walls Carol had had in place for years.
Jessica knew that Carol Danvers had real, powerful feelings for Peter Parker.
And she was terrified that it would take him dying for Carol to see it.
XXXXXX
Peter stepped up the ramp and into the Quinjet. Steve was already in the pilot's seat, his headset on, flipping seemingly random switches and turning knobs. Taking the right seat in the cockpit, Peter put the other headset on and turned to Steve. "Is everything good to go?" he asked.
"I'm ready," Steve replied, looking at Peter. "Are you?"
Peter wasn't sure. He didn't like leaving Carol like this. But he thought about her lying in that hospital bed, her own cells slowly eating away at her. And he thought about Doom, sitting in his castle, holding her only hope hostage. His hands tightened into fists, and his knuckles popped. "Hell yes," he said.
Steve ramped up the engines, and the Quinjet's vertical takeoff lifted the craft into the air. "We're gonna be in trouble once we're outta here," Steve said. "I didn't file a flight plan or log out the plane, so as far as Tony is going to know, somebody hacked the system and is stealing a jet."
Peter cracked a smile. "I guess we should move fast then," he said. "After all, we've got a doctor's appointment to keep, and everybody knows how doctors just hate for people to show up late. Or incinerated."
Cap smiled, and piloted the jet out into the open air. Twin cannons appeared in the side of the tower, and Tony's automated voice came over the radio. "You are not authorized to use this equipment," he said. "You have one chance to return it to its rightful place and surrender."
Peter looked right and saw the cannons were already charging their first shots. He looked back to Steve, who had one eyebrow raised in question. "Punch it, Chewie," Peter said.
Cap pushed the throttle forward, and the Quinjet blasted away from the tower, blue repulsor beams shooting past it. Peter felt an insane urge to shout and pump his arms in the air, but he kept it contained.
"Ok," Steve said, once they were out of the turrets' range. "We should be relatively in the clear now, assuming that Tony doesn't suit up and chase us down."
"Relatively?" Peter asked.
"They may scramble some F-16's to shoot us down," Steve said, pulling a candy bar out of one of his belt pouches. He opened the wrapper and took a bite. "But the Quinjet's much faster, I'm sure we could outrun them."
Steve extended his arm, offering Peter a bite of his candy bar. "No thanks, Cap," Peter said, holding up his hand. "If you don't mind, I think I'm gonna try to get some sleep. How long is the flight to Latveria?"
Cap checked the GPS. "About six hours," he said.
The chair creaked a bit as Peter leaned it back, setting his mask on top of his face for shade. "Sounds good to me," he said.