Hello all! Sorry for the late update. Anyway, to answer a few questions, no, I'm still not planning to include Wanda, and I'm also gonna keep this fic ship-free, simply because I'm just not the shipper type. Enjoy!

When Peter came to, he was laying on the floor of a dark room, alone. He tried to sit up, but immediately fell back when dizziness hit him. He was just starting to remember where he was and how he got there, and who he was supposed to be with. He sat upright again, glancing around the room for any sign of Erik he might have missed, but all he saw was an empty holding apparatus in the middle of the space, straps hanging loose.

An irritating feeling, like an itch, erupted in his forearm, and he brought it up to look at it. The strange, strap-on IV was still there, along with the needle and the vial. Its sheer existence frustrated him, and he began clawing and grabbing at it, but to no avail. He cursed under his breath and stood up carefully, afraid he'd just fall back again like last time, but it didn't happen. Then, he began walking in circles around the room, at first very slowly, and then faster and faster. Although he found it harder to do than normal, he began to jog, and just as he was about to up his tempo, the doors to the cell opened, and he stopped abruptly.

Two guards came inside, immediately going for Peter, who backed away from them. They followed, and he kept backing away, baiting them further inside. Then, when they were almost at the wall opposite to the door, he made a run for it. He only managed to make it through the door before his knees gave in and he threw up. The guards were already running towards him, but with another quick move, he pulled the lever on the control panel beside the door and it slammed shut before the guards could come through. Peter threw up some more, but he didn't mind, because he made it out of the cell. Now all he had to do was find Erik, rescue him, and take both of them out of this place. Something he'd normally have no trouble doing, but, even though the sedatives they drugged him with seemed to have worn off for the most part, some effects still lingered. They probably underestimated just how much of this stuff was needed to really slow him down, or they made just made a simple mistake. Either way, they were gonna pay.

He didn't waste any more time thinking about it, and took off along the corridor, kicking and punching at any guards he met along the way and knocking down the cameras. After a few fractions of a second, though, he had to pause. He was starving.

Right. Next stop, food. With some luck, he was able to find a small office space that had a mini fridge in one corner. He tore its door open and found a can of soda, a sandwich labeled "Marley's - don't steal!" and a plate of grapes.

Peter wolfed down the whole sandwich, all of the grapes and drank the soda, but he still found himself a little hungry. Regardless, he knew it was enough for at least ten minutes or so, if he didn't go too fast. He could achieve a lot in a split second, let alone ten minutes.

One second later he was speeding down yet another corridor, searching for Erik. He had to be there somewhere. Fractions of a second felt like several minutes as he ran and ran zig-zagging from room to room, until he found one full of TV screens, each showing security footage from the facility. Two men sat in front of the screens. They didn't even know what hit them before they fell unconscious.

'Not sorry,' Peter muttered. No alarms had been raised yet, as only a few seconds have passed since his escape, but that didn't mean he could let himself get cocky. Even if their methods were imperfect, these people were clearly prepared to deal with him.

He skimmed the screens, searching for Erik, and found him on the screen labeled "interrogation room." He was sitting in a dark room by a table, talking to a man on the opposite side whose face wasn't visible to Peter. From what he could tell, his father wasn't hurt, but then the image wasn't very clear.

He needed a plan, he couldn't exactly waltz in there and slip out with Erik just like that.

He needed metal.

There was a map of the facility in the room, and he tore it off and took off in search for metallic objects. In a few seconds he found three pens, a bunch of screws, coins and a coil of wire. He was able to find all of this without trouble, easily knocking out guards who still weren't alerted of his escape, although he knew that any second now he was going to face larger resistance.

He found the interrogation room fairly easily. Two guards stood by each side of the door, both of whom he knocked out before they could even see him. He kicked the door in so fast it almost tore off.

He was greeted by the sight of the man by the name of Stryker, frozen in time as he was walking towards the door, with a look of urgency on his face. No doubt he had just been informed of the escape. Peter rammed into him with his shoulder, knocking him against the opposite wall and out cold.

He straightened up, the first time he truly stopped "rushing" since his escape, and it was like coming to a halt after minutes of spinning. He dropped everything in his hands as his knees gave in, and he braced for impact, only to be caught by Erik.

'Peter?'

'Present,' Peter said weakly. Erik lowered him slowly to the ground so that both of them were sitting, and for the first time seemed to realize what it was that Peter dropped on the ground before.

'We're getting out, kid,' he said, squeezing Peter's shoulder reassuringly. 'Can you stand?'

'I think I'm gonna throw up,' Peter muttered. 'What? Yeah, I'll try.'

Erik slowly stood up, pulling Peter with him. The pens, coins and screws started spinning around them so fast they blurred, while the wire unraveled and circled around their feet. Erik pulled Peter's arm around his shoulders and the two walked out of the room, ready to face whoever came their way.

They were able to round the first corner without any difficulty, but at the end of the corridor three men were already waiting, armed and armored, heading straight towards them. Wire caught two of them by the throat and pulled them down, chocking them, while the third was blasted in the face with screws and pens and coins. When they were taken care of, Erik recalled the metallic objects, and they walked on, following the map Peter tore off earlier to the garage, where they would steal a vehicle.

For a while there were no more guards, but Erik knew it couldn't be so easy. True enough, when they were almost at their destination, a larger group of guards stood in their way. Erik braced himself, searching for ways he could get them out of this situation, but he found they were surrounded, and he wouldn't be able to take all of them out fast enough.

'Leave them to me,' Peter muttered. Erik glanced worriedly at his son before looking back at the men surrounding them.

'Are you sure?' He asked, quietly, so only Peter could hear him.

'Yeah,' Peter replied. 'Easy.'

Erik wasn't sure if Peter was referring to the solution to their problem or trying to calm him down. Suddenly, Peter wasn't by his side anymore, and in the next second, all hell broke loose. Two bullets grazed Erik, one his shoulder, the other his leg, but he ignored the injuries, focusing instead on Peter, who was on all fours on the ground, throwing up.

Erik knelt down beside him, placing his hands on each of his shoulders. When he was done heaving, Erik helped him sit up and let him lean on him while he caught his breath. Only then did he notice that his son's nose was bleeding, and he looked pale, more so than usual.

'We have to get out of here, now,' Erik said, pulling Peter up, hoping that he would be able to at least stand, but he was dead weight. He chose to pick him up completely instead, and carried him the rest of the way to the garage.

He was satisfied to find that almost everything there was made out of metal, or worked with a metallic mechanism. He picked a car he thought would be fast enough and sat Peter down on the passenger seat. He was in the driver seat when he saw in the mirrors that more men were flooding into the garage, but they stood no chance against him this time. He slammed the car door shut, and with a small motion of his hand, set the rest of the cars flying towards the men.

His own car hummed to life and he sped towards the garage door, which he opened with another swipe of his hand. Soon, they were out in the open.

They were free, and no one could follow them.