AlienWarlord
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C600 Spider-Man
🕑 Added 2024-01-17 15:06:25 +0000 UTCIn a small, dimly lit living room, Hughie slouched on the couch, his thoughts consumed by a mix of frustration and yearning. The days had drifted by, and the news of Peter's heroic exploits echoed throughout the world. Yet, Hughie felt a lingering sense of exclusion, a bitter taste in his mouth. His attempts to reach out to Billy went unanswered, leaving him in the shadows of Peter's grand actions.
His father, sitting across from him, sighed, trying to console his despondent son. "Hughie, Vought is falling, justice is being served. You should be grateful for that."
But Hughie couldn't find solace in the broader victory. His focus remained fixed on one target, A-Train. The man who had stolen the love of his life. The man who had shattered his world. Hughie couldn't let go of the burning desire for personal retribution, a need to make A-Train pay for the pain he had caused with his own hands.
As the days passed, the realization dawned on Hughie that Peter might not fulfill his promise to let him take down A-Train personally. The frustration gnawed at him, and he grappled with the inner turmoil of unfulfilled vengeance. His father's attempts to pacify him fell on deaf ears, as Hughie yearned for closure on his own terms.
In the dimly lit room, Hughie's phone lay silent, his repeated calls to Billy unanswered. The once hopeful connection now felt severed, leaving Hughie with a sense of abandonment. The camaraderie he thought he had with Billy seemed distant, and the isolation fueled his determination to take matters into his own hands.
One evening, as the shadows grew longer and the room echoed with silence, Hughie made a decision. Ignoring his father's advice to let the authorities handle it, he stood up with a newfound determination. The quest for justice, as he saw it, demanded personal involvement.
Without a word, Hughie grabbed the largest knife in the kitchen and left the confines of his home, stepping into the cool night air. He new exactly which hospital A-Train was admitted to, so his destination was clear. He would confront A-Train and exact the revenge that had eluded him for far too long.
Just as Hughie took a step towards his car to embark on his mission, a sudden golden portal materialized before him, and an unexpected figure tumbled out, landing at his feet.
It was A-Train, clad in a hospital gown, his legs encased in hard casts. He let out a pained grunt as he hit the ground, confusion and fear etched on his face. Hughie stared dumbfounded at the unexpected twist of fate, his grip loosening, nearly dropping the knife.
Seconds later, behind the crippled hero, Peter stepped out of the portal, hands in his pockets. “Yo,” He strolled casually towards Hughie, glancing down at the knife in his hands with a look of realization. "Good timing," Peter remarked, unfazed and rather causal. "I brought him as promised."
Hughie's shock was palpable, his gaze shifting between Peter and A-Train. The gravity of the situation sank in as Leter kicked A-Train towards Hughie. A-Train, now fully conscious, began to crawl away in a desperate attempt to escape, his broken legs hindering his progress.
"Why are you doing this?" A-Train pleaded as looked between Peter and Hughie, his voice a mixture of pain and confusion. "My legs are already broken! I’m a f*cking cripple! What more do you want from me?"
Hughie, his rage boiling beneath the surface, felt a surge of frustration. A-Train didn't recognize him, didn't remember the one he had taken everything from. As A-Train begged for mercy, Hughie's resentment burned hotter.
Just as Hughie was about to confront A-Train, Peter intervened, motioning towards the house. "Maybe we should do this inside," he suggested calmly. "Drawing attention out here won't help anyone."
A-Train, seizing an opportunity, screamed, “Help! Someone! They’re trying to kill me!” Panic etched across his face, but before the sound could continue, Peter snapped his fingers, silencing him with a mystical force. A-Train's eyes widened in realization, his voice completely muted no matter how much he screamed, a terrifying predicament. “…!?”
Dragging the thrashing and terrified A-Train inside, Peter led the way, followed closely by Hughie, who clutched the knife with a determined grip.
…
Tossing A-Train onto the floor of the dimly lit living room, Peter casually stepped back, creating space for Hughie, who approached with a determined stride, the knife glinting in his hand. A-Train, terrified and unable to escape, looked up at Hughie, attempting to beg for his life, but his voice remained stifled by the mystical force that bound him.
As Hughie prepared to unleash his revenge, a sadistic smile playing on his lips, he paused. Something in him demanded more than a silent demise for A-Train. Turning to Peter, he requested, “Unmute him, please...”
“Why?” Peter asked curiously.
“Thankfully, she got a fast and quiet death, but he won’t get that sort of luxury.” Hughie wanted the man who had stolen his love to suffer loudly and painfully.
And thankfully, his father was at work at the moment, which meant he didn’t have to hold back or worry about anyone walking in.
Peter, feeling a bit of respect for Hughie's intensity, shrugged indifferently and snapped his fingers once more, unmuting A-Train. “P-Please, don’t kill me! I’ll do anything…!” The room echoed with the desperate pleas of the broken hero, his attempts to beg for mercy falling on unwilling ears.
Ignoring A-Train's cries, Hughie leaned in, asking, “Do you remember Robin Ward?”
A-Train, confused and seemingly ignorant, shook his head, “No, see, you have the wrong person! I don’t even know who that is!” The denial only fueled Hughie's rage. A-Train's lack of recognition added another layer of torment to an already tortured soul.
Without hesitation, Hughie inched closer to A-Train, looming over him menacingly. He unleashed a torrent of anger, jumping on the fallen hero and stabbing relentlessly. Blood spattered across the room, creating a gruesome painting of vengeance.
A-Train's screams of pain and agony filled the air, mingling with the sickening sound of steel slicing against flesh and bone.
As the minutes passed, Hughie showed no signs of relenting. Each stab was a manifestation of his pent-up grief and fury.
A-Train's desperate cries transformed into choking on his own blood, the life slowly draining from him. Yet, Hughie persisted, a man possessed by a relentless need for retribution.
*Stab… Stab… Stab… Stab…*
Finally, exhausted and panting, Hughie fell backward, the knife slipping from his grasp. He stared up at the ceiling, a mixture of satisfaction and emptiness etched on his face.
‘I avenged you Robin…’ Hughie thought over and over again, the weight of her death ascending off his shoulders.
…
After cleaning up any traces of the gruesome encounter and incinerating A-Trains body, Peter stood in the dimly lit living room, the air thick with the residue of violence. Hughie, a conflicted mix of emotions etched on his face, looked at the now clean room with both horror and a strange sense of closure.
"Thanks, Peter," Hughie mumbled, his voice tinged with a weary gratitude. "I... I don't know how to feel about this, but it had to be done..."
Peter nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of the moment. "You did what you needed to do. That’s all that matters.”
As Peter prepared to leave, Hughie extended a hesitant hand, gripping Peter's shoulder. "I don't think I'll ever forget this." He said, looking up at Peter, a weak smile on his face. “Thank you.”
"No problem… Take care, Hughie," Peter offered a small, reassuring smile before stepping into a swirling golden portal, leaving Hughie to grapple with the aftermath of his choices.
————
Stepping out of his portal and into the Oval Office, Peter faced the President, who nearly jumped out of his seat as Peter appeared out of nowhere. Even now, he wasn’t used to how Peter just appearing whenever he wanted.
Handing over the controls for the Sentinels, as he won’t be here to command them as he is now, Peter explained, "The Sentinels are powerful tools, but they're not meant for personal agendas. I've implemented failsafes to ensure they stay within their intended purpose, which is the policing of superheroes, nothing more."
The President, uneasy at the implications, stammered, "W-What if we need them for national security?"
Peter's gaze hardened. "Any attempt to misuse them or alter their protocols will have severe consequences. They’re not here to enable wars or power plays." He threatened before giving a quick explanation. “The Sentinels will not respond to any orders that stray outside of their programming. And before you try, please know that any attempts to tamper with the Sentinels or their factory will result in the swift deaths of anyone involved.”
Peter pauses for a moment before staring straight into the presidents eyes. “Simply put, be good and you’ll be fine.”
The President swallowed hard, realizing the gravity of Peter's warning. With a stern nod, Peter stood up and opened one last portal, returning to the Butcher residence, his involvement in this universes affairs officially closed.
As the portal sealed behind him, a sudden gust of wind tore through the house. A child-sized figure with golden hair and bright blue eyes shot around the corner, tackling Peter to the floor.
"Leo!" Peter chuckled, embracing the three-year-old. "You sure know how to make an entrance..." Expecting a reply, Peter looked down and noticed that Leo was shaking and gripped Peter as if his life depended on it. “What’s going on? What happened?”
A/N: 1629 words :)
Comments
wayne schack
I haven’t decided yet
Dragon Cross
Is Peter taking noir and soldier boy back to his universe if so he should take starlight and Queen Maeve as well
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
