Hello! I am procrastinating on my stories as usual but this is completely different than what I am used to writing. I had a plot swimming around my head for a while that wasn't completely based on Peter being depressed and I feel like this could have a lot of potential! Thanks MpeachlinS for beta reading this story!

Here's the first chapter!

Peter swung around the city, soaking wet from the rain that was pouring down that day. He didn't mind it that much, really, and no one would be dumb enough to steal stuff while it was raining this hard.

Why would he be out at this time anyway? It was 10:00pm, he should've been in his room by now, scribbling answers on his school book and sitting down with May and Ben to watch a popular show together so that they could make fun of it. But instead, here he was, swinging around like a lunatic and to go along with it, he was also wearing a cheap red hoodie with a spider sharpied in the middle.

It was Friday, anyways, Peter could probably make an easy excuse saying that he was staying over with Ned that night, so that's exactly what he did. He sat down on the ledge distractedly and began typing a message to his aunt. He ended it with a smiley face and put his crappy phone back into his pocket, taking off his mask along the way.

He flinched slightly at the feeling of rain dropping onto his head and face, but Peter didn't mind. He looked at the city below and saw the Avengers Tower a few ways away. Peter smiled slightly, wrapping his arms around his middle to try and keep himself warm whilst simultaneously trying to look for any thugs trying to look for anyone acting suspiciously.

Maybe he deserved staying in the rain. To be fair, it was probably nothing compared to what Uncle Ben must've been feeling when he died. God, the funeral sucked. Everyone was sad and pitying and told him "it'll all be okay" or "it's all part of God's Plan."

They didn't understand, not really anyways. They didn't know that Peter was there, that he had watched him die. He was there for his last words, and it sucked, so bad. He should've done something, said something, but he was dumb and stupid and just watched him die.

It was stupid. A joke.

So when he went after the thug who shot his uncle, he put on his mask and webbed the prick up and handed him over to the police.

That's why he became… well, what he was today.

Some idiot teen trying to help the little guys out.

He'd like it if he joined the Avengers, he really would, but his powers were nothing compared to the rest of them. So Peter stuck with helping out and patrolling and giving people directions and saving kids' balloons.

It was nice. He understood his powers a little more and got more thugs arrested.

It was fun. It was a nice little side job, a chill thing to do, and it was a good way of letting his Uncle somehow know that, hey, I'm trying to make you proud.

Peter checked the time and realized forty-five minutes had passed and decided to head home, putting his mask back on and shooting a web onto a nearby building. He didn't even get to swing when his senses made a chill go through his spine and he whirled around, moving to the left as a dart whizzed past him.

"What the hell?" Peter looked around and saw some weirdo on the roof with him.

It was a… hm, how would you describe him? A person with a skull for a face, with some sort of cloak over his head, and… I guess you could call it some sort of armor plating. "Hey! I recognize you! You're were hanging on my neighbor's porch for Halloween!" Peter quipped, thinking that this was just some weird-looking thug that was looking for a fight.

It seemed that the skull face person didn't seem to appreciate the joke all that much as he only growled and raised a tranquilizer gun to shoot Peter again. In turn, he shot his hands up, trying to back away.

"Woah, woah, woah, buddy, who even are you? Like, seriously?" He pouted from behind his mask, crossing his arms. "You're not even going to introduce yourself?" Peter tilted his head amusedly, thinking that this was just going to be a quick fight and that he could go home soon.

That wasn't the case.

"The name's Taskmaster," the skull person said in an odd sort of robotic-like voice. He loaded the gun again before putting it behind his back. "And you're coming with me."

"Sorry, but I was taught never to take candy from strangers," Peter retorted, before thinking his statement over. "or.. would it be never to go with weird Halloween looking people?"

He looked contemplative and Taskmaster sighed in annoyance, lunging forward, presumably to just conk him on the head and call it a day. However, Peter jumped over him and webbed his face, surprising the man. Peter seemed proud of himself for catching mister Halloween fanatic off guard.

The pride didn't last very long though, because the man ripped the webbing off easily. Peter turned around and was punched somewhere in between his ribs, flying onto the ground. He coughed lightly.

"Jeez, you hit hard," the hero said, attempting to stand up. Taskmaster tried to take advantage of it by shooting him with the tranquilizer again, but Peter still managed to somehow dodge the dart.

Peter lunged towards the skull man and began a series of kicks and punches to try and knock him out. However, Taskmaster seemed to be barely flinching as they both fought each other using hand to hand combat.

It was a good fight, to be completely fair, but in the middle of it, Peter's phone started vibrating in his pocket, and he tried to get away from his opponent so that he could answer whoever was calling him. He supposed it was Aunt May checking in on his "sleepover." However, Taskmaster kicked him harder than he expected and he tripped, his phone tumbling onto the ground.

It got crushed as the skull man walked towards him.

"Dude, do you know how expensive that was?" Peter asked, offended as he got back up. "Honest to god, once we're done with this you're so buying me a new phone-"

He got shoved to the ground again and Taskmaster growled, "you talk too much."

"I mean, there's really no way of telling if someone is talking too much," Peter said as he dodged flying fists from mister Halloween. "To be fair, you're talking too little. Are you insecure about your voice? It's okay, buddy- Jesus fuck-"

Peter had dodged too late and managed to get a beautiful punch onto his face. He flinched and he felt like his brain was bouncing around in his head as he tried to kick Taskmaster off. Instead, he was held down by his shoulders as he felt something pierce against his arm.

Peter screamed, wriggling himself away from the Halloween man, but the grip on his shoulders became tighter and he realized that Taskmaster had decided to just plunge the dart into him without the use of the gun. He seemed satisfied with himself, he couldn't really tell, given to the fact that he basically has a skull for a face. Or maybe it was just a dollar store mask….

He felt drowsy and loopy, but he didn't want to leave Aunt May alone. Peter couldn't fight back though, he already saw black spots clouding his eyes as he blinked hazily, trying his best to throw off Taskmaster.

Peter's only hope was that May wouldn't be too lonely or get too worried about him. He had hoped that they would both be okay, but after the funeral a few weeks ago, he wasn't entirely sure.

But he could've sworn someone was speaking a funny language as he blacked out, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

When he woke, Peter found himself in a dark room. Even with his newly heightened eyesight, he still couldn't exactly see where he was. He knew that he was tied to some sort of chair because when he tried moving his hands they kept tugging against a sort of rope. Peter frowned as he squinted his eyes before realizing he still had his mask on. He supposed that was supposed to make him feel better, which it kinda did until he heard faint footsteps coming his way.

Peter tensed as a key unlocked the door and light flooded the room after a switch was flicked. He flinched harshly from the sudden brightness and closed his eyes to try and soothe the oncoming headache he was about to have. Although he was thankful that it wasn't that weird, Taskmaster skull man, he did feel a little underwhelmed when he saw a regular human walk towards him.

The man seemed like an average guy, with dirty blonde hair and a sort of grumpy face. His lips were quirked upwards, and Peter supposed that he was smirking. So, probably a sadistic guy. That was his first impression anyways.

Anyways, the man grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of Peter, who finally got a good look at his setting and predicament.

He guessed it was a type of office. There was an old wooden desk against the wall and multiple fold-out chairs beside it. Peter was right about being tied up in a chair, and he tugged on the rope all the more while glaring at the man.

The man sat down on the chair and faced Peter, staring him down before saying, "you're the spider person on youtube."

Peter rolled his eyes from behind his mask and nodded stiffly. "Spider-Man," he corrected, before adding, "and you are?"

He didn't mean for it to sound sarcastic, but it did anyway. The man ducked his head down, shaking his head before looking at the hero again. "Call me Zemo."

That's a pretty dumb name, but Peter wouldn't say it out loud. Instead, he nodded his acknowledgment before tugging on the rope. the silence unsettled Peter while his senses were warning him to get away from the man. "What do you want from me?"

Instead of answering his question, Zemo responded with a different question: "Who are you?"

"Spider-Man," Peter blinked, "I just said that."

"Behind the mask," the man said with clear annoyance, "Who are you?"

"What's it to you?"

"Do you want to die?"

Yes, Peter thought to himself but didn't say it out loud. "Peter."

Zemo looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and the hero eventually revealed his last name. He took off Peter's mask, revealing his lightly bruised cheek. The hero looked almost offended as hair fell onto his face. "You're young," Zemo stated plainly.

"I'm fourteen," Peter said quietly, glaring at him. "What do you want from me?"

"You need to do something for me."

"Do you usually kidnap teenagers to do things for you?"

Zemo ignored his question, rolling his eyes. "Do you know the Winter Soldier?"

Sounded familiar… They learned about him in history class, a little bit, and how it was actually Captain America's best friend back in the day and how he was on the run. Peter himself thought that the man was innocent because when he did research on him, he found out that he was actually brainwashed to do the things he did.

That must've sucked.

"Yeah, we learned about him in school... why?"

"I need you to get him for me."

"Why would you think I would do that?" Peter frowned, moving to cross his arms before remembering he was still ties up.

"I know who you are," Zemo said, looking Peter right in the eyes. It made him uncomfortable, like it was a test, like it was something that would determine who he actually was. "One search of your name on google and I'll know everything about you."

To prove it, Zemo stood up and grabbed a computer from the other room before sitting back down. He typed in Peter's name as the teen watched helplessly.

"Look at that." Zemo's lips quirked up into a smirk as he showed Peter the screen, turning the computer around. "You have an aunt. May Parker? I wonder what would happen to her if you don't do what I ask you to do."

The man watched as Peter gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at Zemo. For the short amount of time he's known him, he already hated him. "Don't hurt her."

"Then stay with us," Zemo explained, leaning back on his chair. "We'll train you, understand your powers, and then eventually you'll look for the Winter Soldier."

"How do you even know where he is?"

"Romania. We'll fly there."

"I… I don't have a passport…"

"We'll forge you one. You'll be fine."

Still, Peter hesitated, looking down. Who knows how long that'll take? How exactly were they going to "train" him? Zemo noticed the teen's silence and said, "we'll let you build a better suit."

Peter looked up at him and sighed, before nodding, already regretting his decision. "Just don't hurt May."

"Of course not."