Chapter Text
When Peter woke up again, it was to darkness. He stayed still for few seconds. The room was silent.
His memory came back to him slowly. He remembered the greasy burger at the diner. Then the van in the parking lot and watching his mentor get hit over the head. His body fell to the rough asphalt like a puppet with its strings cut.
Peter hadn´t fought the men as they pushed him against the side of the van and injected him with the drug. The gun trained on Mr. Stark and the fear of losing another parent had taken all the fight out of him. Strong arms had caught him as his vision blurred and his arms and legs grew heavy. His shoulder folded itself inward as they tossed him into the back of the van. That was the last thing he remembered before darkness took him completely.
When he opened his eyes again, the drug was still in his system. He could almost feel it running through his veins, like syrup, dragging him down and muddling his brain. Fear shot through him for a second before his eyes found Mr. Stark. The man looked pale. But he was alive.
His mentor held him as the memories came back and the fingers working their way through Peters hair calmed his frantically beating heart… for a while.
The door opened and the men from before walked in. Peter strained his hearing outwards in the hopes of picking up cues on where they were. Nothing but seven steady heartbeats met him. Seven steady and one irregular and panicked.
Peter didn´t fail to notice how his mentor shifted in order to cover Peter´s body with his. Normally he would have complained. He was the enhanced one after all. If anyone should be the one to protect, it should be Peter. But, as he let out a breath of relief when icy blue eyes left him, he couldn´t help but feel grateful. He didn´t feel strong right now. He only felt scared, and the comfort that came with being protected was probably the only thing that kept the tears in his eyes at bay.
“I really hope you´re the kind of person who keeps their passwords in their head, Mr. Stark. Otherwise we might have a bit of a problem.”
Mr. Stark froze, and Peter´s heart stopped. He didn´t know them. Peter knew this because he´d watched countless of times as his mentor asked Friday to put in his password into the computer. Of course Tony Stark wouldn´t waste his time with remembering passwords when he could just as easily leave that task to Friday.
The man didn´t even look bothered when Mr. Stark told him this. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at his friends, and Peter could hear their heartbeats pick up. The leader´s stayed the same though. The man´s whole demeanour screamed crazy to Peter. He seemed almost amused by the whole thing, yet no emotions seemed to find their way into his eyes. His heartbeat had been steady and secure from the moment they walked in.
The threat that follow seemed emotionless too. Almost like he didn´t really care at that point. Almost like this whole thing was just a game to him. A game of fear and power.
“Well… I guess it´s a good thing that you brough the kid with you when you went out today then. He´ll be of great help going forward.”
Peter could hear as Mr. Stark´s heart jumped at the words. His own did too.
Before the fear even had time to set in, men were stalking towards them like predators with their prey in clear sight.
They ignored his mentor´s desperate plea as they grabbed onto Peter and jerked him away from his spot behind the man. Peter tried to fight them, but it was as if his arms were made of rubber. Whatever drug they had given him had almost made him human again. He could still feel the strength, but it was as if he´d forgotten how to access it. The worst he managed were a few scratches and he felt tears spring in his eyes at the feeling of helplessness.
The men jerked him to a stop right behind the leader and twisted him around painfully so that he was facing Mr. Stark. He wasn´t sure if the action made him grateful or not. Seeing his mentor always made him feel better, but the agony and fear in the man´s eyes right now almost just made his own feelings of defeat and fear worse.
He could feel as strands of his hair were ripped out when a hand roughly grabbed onto the back of Peter´s head and forced it up. The contrast between Mr. Stark´s gentle touch a few minutes ago, and this claustrophobic feeling of being stuck, had Peter´s heart beating frantically and the pain in his chest, that Peter faintly registered as panic, only grew.
Mr. Stark spoke again. There was desperation in his voice – something that Peter had never heard before. He hated it. Mr. Stark wasn´t supposed to desperately beg on his knees, he was supposed to be strong and confident.
In the end, begging didn´t help. The fist that connected with Peter´s ribs came without warning. Not even his Spidey sense had time to warn him before pain erupted all over his left side and a broken whine left his lips without his consent. His head was swimming and he tried to drag air pack into his lungs again. He faintly heard movement around him and his mentors furious voice. It sounded closer than before, and Peter´s eyes flickered open for a second.
Two men were dragging Mr. Stark backwards. Peter´s eyes fell shut again as he attempted to force the pain out of his face and the tears out of his eyes. Still, he flinched as he felt the vibration in the floor when his mentor was forced down and hit the floor again. Not a sound left the man, but Peter didn´t even have to look at him to know that the impact had hurt.
“Come on!”
When the fist came this time, it came to his face. The finger´s in his hair released just in time for Peter´s head to snap to the side. This time, he couldn´t stop the tears as they came. He didn´t even try. The pain that spread across his face and neck was the only thing his mind could register.
He was dragged back up again, only for another fist to come down.
A sob left his lips then.
He wanted to go home. He wanted the Avenger´s to knock down the door and save them. Peter couldn´t to it on his own. He was supposed to. He was supposed to be a hero – to be Spiderman. But right now, all he could find inside was Peter Parker. A scared and weak kid – like he´d always been. No matter how many people he saved while out as the vigilante, he would always be nothing more than Peter Parker as soon as the mask fell off.
The room fell silent, and Peter prepared for the next hit. It didn´t come.
“Maybe some time apart will do the trick.”
Peter was hauled to his feel and out the door within seconds. He was breathing heavily as he pulled out all his strengths to try and fight them. The hands around his upper arm tightened at his struggle and he let out a pained whine.
The door shut behind him with finality.
They pushed Peter through a few corridors. No one said a word.
Almost a minute after being dragged to his feet, they stopped by a door, pushed it open and threw Peter inside. His cuffed hands weren´t much help in softening the fall and he fell on his shoulder. The same one that had taken a hit in the van. Pain erupted through it and Peter bit back a grunt.
Only four of the men followed him inside. The leader being one of them.
They spread out around Peter, making him feel small as he curled up on the floor. His tears had stopped falling, but his cheeks were still wet and his eyes still red. He probably looked pathetic.
“How do you like water, kid?”
Peter´s only response was a sob. The man smiled.
Peter´s attempt to get away was fruitless. He crawled backwards, away from the men that were looking down at him with glee. He only made it a foot or so before his back hit the wall. He was trapped. He knew that.
The water was cold when they dumped him in. His cuffed hands were clawing desperately at the side of the tub, but they just slipped around helplessly.
His lungs were burning by the time they let him up again. His wet coughs cut through the room and his tears mixed in the with the water on his face. They gave him a few seconds of air.
“Deep breath now.” The tone was almost gentle, but the hands that pushed him down were not.
When Peter came up again for the fourth time, he was openly sobbing.
“Please! Please, I can´t – I…”
The men looked at each other over his head. The leader shrugged and used his hand on Peter´s shoulder to push him back. Back from the tub and onto the now wet floor. Peter crawled backwards yet again while he tried to cough up the rest of the water from his lungs.
“I guess that´s enough. The drug takes a while anyways.”
They left Peter alone on the floor for a few minutes. Water spilled from his mouth and slid down from his hair to the back of his shirt. Every breath felt forced and heavy, and every cough tore at his lungs and shot pain through his bruised ribs.
When the men´s attention returned to Peter again, one of them was holding a syringe.
“What – what is that?”
Peter couldn´t tear his eyes away from the yellow liquid that coloured the syringe.
The leader reached over and grabbed it from his friend before slowly walking over to where Peter sat. He crouched down only a few inches away. Peter didn´t blink as he followed the movement with his eyes.
The gentle voice that he had used before were back, and somehow it freaked Peter out more than if the tone had been harsh.
“This is what will show Tony Stark just how serious we are.”
Peter swallowed hard, and let his gaze flicker between icy eyes and yellow liquid. He flinched backwards as the man moved. Arm and syringe faltered and the eyes turned cold. His next words were hard.
“It´s the tub or the needle. You choose.”
Peter didn´t even have to consider it. He looked at the needle, his voice trapped in his throat. The man didn´t seem to need words in order to understand. One hand grabbed onto Peter´s head and tilted it to the side, before the other positioned itself by his exposed neck. Peter could feel the needle as it went in, and the drug felt cold as it was pushed into his veins.
It took almost a minute for Peter to feel the effects. His fingers went numb – that was the first thing that happened. After that, his body just continued to shut down, one part at a time. Five minutes after the drug had been administered, Peter was on the floor, to weak to hold himself up. He could no longer feel the chill of his wet curls after ten minutes and after fifteen, he was unconscious.
The darkness took his slowly, and Peter felt scared the whole way through. The men had watched him curiously for the first bit, but by the time he had slid down onto his back, they had left him alone. Peter felt almost grateful for it. He felt like he was dying, and he´d rather not do that with an audience.
His mind was the last to go. After his vision had failed him and his hearing had begun flickering, he could still feel fear. He tried to go through his memories and latch onto the best ones. The ones that brough him comfort.
The last memory was of his mentor. Just a smile and a ruffle of the hair.
So, when Peter woke up again, he feared that the men was still around. It took a few minutes for him to regain control of his body again, and in that time he listened. His ears were strained as he tried to pick up any sound that could indicate that he wasn´t alone.
By the time the static had mostly left his body, he could conclude that he was.
He opened his eyes to a dark room, and it took them a few seconds to adjust. He was laid down on a hard table, in a room that he had never seen before. It wasn´t the same room that he had fallen unconscious in. He knew that much.
Pushing himself up into a sitting position took time. He was still weak. Despite that, he pushed through. He spotted a door on his right with a sign next to it; Emergency Exit. Peter slid down from the table, and walked over to it with wobbly legs. He used his fingers to search around the side of the door, but found nothing that would indicate an alarm. He held his breath as he pushed the door open, waiting for a siren to cut through the air. To his great relief, nothing came.
What greeted him outside was a great lawn and a forest maybe 500 feet to his right.
Peter didn´t want to leave Mr. Stark behind. Almost every instinct he had told him to go back in again and look for him. But his training told him otherwise.
He was in no state of fight anyone right now. If he went back in and they found him, he would be overpowered and then he would be of no help to anyone. No, he had to get out of here and get help. Then he could come back with the team and save Mr. Stark.
He let the door fall shut behind him, and kept a hand on the side of the building for stability as he crept towards the corner. From the corner of the building he would be out in the open for two minutes before he hit the safety of the trees. Maybe three minutes, he reasoned. After all, he did feel like he was two seconds from toppling over.
He glanced around the corner quickly but found it empty… and slightly familiar. He tried to dig through his muddled brain but was unable to put the pieces together.
His eyes flickered back to the forest. He´d have to confront the strange feeling of familiarity later, he decided. Later, when his life wasn´t on the line.
Peter took a deep breath and began jogging across the lawn. Alright – wasn´t much of a jog to be honest. Maybe a brisk walk?
He almost made it halfway to the trees when he heard shouting voices behind him. Panic set in and he tried to pic up his pace… which resulted in him faceplanting.
The grass was slightly damp under his hands. He pushed himself up on his knees. The voices were closer now – too close, and Peter realized that he wouldn´t make it.
He twisted around to face them. Hoping to at least try to fight them of.
What met him as he turned around wasn´t masked faces and rough hands.
The compound spread out before him, and his mentors scared face looked back at him from a few feet away. Peter could spot the rest of the team behind him.
He felt himself deflate as tears sprung in his eyes. He was safe. Mr. Stark was here, and the team had come and they were rescued.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter´s voice shook.
The man took a few hesitance steps towards Peter, his face tight like he was holding in tears. Peter didn´t care as his own flowed down his cheeks.
Tony walked forward slowly and kneeled down next to the kid. The kid that had been dead two hours ago. He raised his hand and reached towards Peter. He half expected the boy to disappear as soon as his fingers connected. He didn´t. Instead, Tony´s finger´s curled into soft curls. The contact was all it took.
Tony started to cry, and desperate hands grabbed onto Peter and pulled him close. The kid came willingly. He was still a bit cold to the touch, but Tony barely registered it as he held the shaking boy against his chest.
“Peter. Oh God. How is this even possible? How are you alive?”
Peter pulled back, and Tony felt lost without the kid in his arms. Peter looked up at him with confusion in his tearstained eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, bambino… you were dead. I – I held you in my arms for hours.” Tony looked over his shoulder to Bruce who had walked up to them. “How is this possible? You saw him. He wasn´t breathing… he wasn´t alive.”
The man kneeled down on Peter´s other side. He gently shifted Peter´s head to face him so that he could look into his eyes. Peter looked back fearfully.
“Dead? But… I don´t feel dead. I mean, I would know if I had died, right?”
Despite Dr. Banners examination, Peter let his eyes wander back to Tony. He began carding his finger´s through Peter´s hair again, mindful of the back of his head that had been ripped at by the kidnappers. Peter let out a sigh and relaxed at the movement.
“What´s the last thing you remember, kiddo?” Tony asked with a gentle voice. He and Bruce waited patiently as Peter searched his brain.
“I´m not sure… they –“ his memory came back to him swiftly and he took a strangled breath. “they drowned me, Mr. Stark. I couldn´t breath and I couldn´t fight them off. I´m sorry!” He started sobbing and Tony collected him into his arms again. The grass was damp and the moisture was seeping into his pants, chilling him down. He didn´t care one bit.
He whispered hushed words as Peter cried. He knew the terror of drowning, and Peter had just lived through it. The pain and the fear were still there – still fresh.
Peter calmed down after a few minutes. Leaving him with a few sniffles and wet cheeks.
“They gave me something.” The voice was low, but both Tony and Bruce picked it up. They shot each other a look. Peter looked up at them with big glossy eyes.
“They said I had to choose. The water or the drug, and I couldn´t – I couldn´t do it again so I let them give me something. I don´t know what it was but it was like my whole body just shut down. I couldn´t move and then I couldn´t feel or see or hear or anything. Then I must have just passed out, I think.”
Bruce pulled in a sharp breath, gaining the attention of both Peter and Tony.
“What is it Bruce? Do you know what this is?”
The scientist shook his head slowly.
“I´m not sure, but I think – let´s get you inside, alright? I´ll run a few tests and I´ll tell you when I know for sure.”
Tony looked like he wanted to argue, but Peter nodded slowly, draining away all of Tony´s arguments. Together they helped Peter stand again and slowly but surely, they made it back to the building. The team never leaving their side.
Two hours later, Tony found himself by Peter´s bedside. The kid had conked out an hour ago. Bruce had quickly taken what he needed to test his theory and the kid had – after multiple assurances from Tony that he would still be there when Peter woke up again – allowed himself to fall asleep. Too many drugs for Tony´s liking were still coursing through Peter, and having the kid sleep them off didn´t sound like such a bad idea.
Bruce walked into the room again 20 minutes later. He had a few papers in his hands and an unreadable look on his face.
Tony looked at him with curiosity.
“You figure it out yet?”
Bruce met his gaze and nodded. He sat down in the chair on the other side of Peter´s bed and let his eyes rest on the kid for a few seconds. His face was gentle, and Tony was reminded that he wasn´t the only one on the team who cared about the kid. In the past months, Peter had somehow managed to wrap every single one of them around his finger.
Bruce let his eyes stay on the sleeping kid when he spoke. He looked almost guilty when he started to explain.
“I created it a few years back-“
“Wait!” Tony interrupted him with a snap, his voice shaking. “You made this?!”
Bruce looked up at Tony again, and he definitely looked guilty now.
“It wasn´t made for this. I wanted it to help me when I turned. It was created to help me calm down again, but… it didn´t work.” He sounded almost bitter then, and Tony´s anger rolled off him. Pity took its place, but Tony forced it out off his eyes. He knew just how much Bruce hated pity when it came to the Hulk.
Bruce took a deep breath and continued.
“Others have found different uses for it. Like this, for instance.” He nodded towards the sleeping kid, and Tony couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over to the bed. Peter was still sleeping peacefully.
“If taken by anyone but me, it will basically bring the body to the brink of death, allowing them to fool others that they are gone. It´s mostly harmless for the person in question, but I´ve heard that the process of dying - if you so please, is incredibly scary. It really does feel like you´re dying. Slowly slipping away.” He took a sharp breath and Tony met his eyes again. “Peter´s heart and lungs were still working, only too slow for anyone to pick up on unless you knew to look for it. You couldn´t have known, Tony.”
There was sympathy is his voice, and Tony couldn´t help but feel undeserving of it. He´d held the kid for hours and let himself get fooled by the illusion of death. Despite Bruce´s assurances, Tony felt like he should have known. He should have known that the denial he´d clung onto wasn´t just him refusing to accept the truth – it was his gut telling him that there was no way in hell that his kid was actually dead. That a couple of kidnappers out for Tony´s access codes could be what finally ended Peter Parker´s life.
He should have known.
Tony broke down. He´d held a firm grip on Peter´s hand ever since the kid laid down, and somehow it felt like that contact was the only thing keeping the man grounded now. The grief that he´d been denying himself to fully feel before, ripped through him now that he could accept the fact. Peter had been dead – to him at least. He had lost the kid, and he let the grief of that loss mix into the feeling of complete and utter relief that it hadn´t been permanent.
Bruce simply sat with him as he shattered and put himself back together. A silent companion – there, should he need him. Tony felt eternally grateful.
When he found his voice again, Tony looked at his friend. There was one question still nagging at him.
“Why? Why do this?”
Bruce looked at him with pity, but his answer was brutally honest. Tony couldn´t help but flinch.
“They needed you broken, Tony. You´d be easier to manipulate then.” He looked back at Peter. The boy took a deep breath in his sleep and nuzzled deeper into the pillow. Tony felt his chest fill up with fondness despite the circumstances. “Can you imagine what would have happened if Peter had come back while they still had you. You´d get a second chance to save him… I can´t imagine that there´s anything you wouldn´t do to make sure they didn´t touch him again.”
Tony understood then. Because Bruce was right. Had Tony been able to, he would have given them anything they asked for if they had held Peter´s life over him minutes after he just got the kid back. He´d still be too broken to even think about fighting them.
Anger shot through him then, and he almost welcomed the change. He´d been scared and broken for hours now. The change in emotion – the sharpness of the anger, gave him a sense of direction.
“Where are they now?” The words were spoken through his teeth.
Bruce didn´t need him to clarify who they were.
“Nat has them down on floor two.”
Tony nodded. “How long will the kid be asleep?”
Tony could see on his friends face that he knew what Tony was doing, and that he really didn´t like it. He didn´t try to stop him though. He wouldn´t have succeeded even if he tried, and he probably knew that. Instead he just gave Tony a sad look.
“At least one, maybe two hours. The drugs should be out of his system by then.”
Tony left the room without another word.
When Peter woke up, Tony was by his side with a warm smile and comforting hands. Physically, Peter was completely fine. Emotionally, he knew that months would pass before the fear of dying would stop being at the forefront of his mind.
But he ignored it for now, as he nagged his way out of the hospital bed and up to the Avenger´s personal floors. He ignored it as he spent the rest of the day in the comfort of his team – his family.
Late in the evening, he couldn´t help but ask Mr. Stark what had happened to their captors. The man had tensed and redirected Peter´s train of thought swiftly – and for once, Peter let him.
Because he didn´t know about the empty blue eyes staring up at the ceiling on floor two. He didn´t know of the exchanged words or the gun that Natasha had handed Tony without being asked. He didn´t know of the tears that had fell down his mentor’s face as he pulled the trigger and ended the life of the man who had attempted to take Tony´s life away from him.
A life for a life.
Tony had always liked that symbolism.
Peter didn´t know, and for once, he didn´t want to know.