Chapter Text
Happy clicked off his phone screen after acknowledging the text he had just received from his boss. Tony always had Happy pick Peter up from school on fridays and bring him upstate to the compound, however, for whatever reason Tony had requested a different drop off location for this particular date.
It was weird, Happy had to admit, but it wasn’t unusual. Tony was known to change things up on a whim, this was just another example of his boss’s unpredictable nature.
In the distance a school bell began to ring, shifting Happy's focus in time to watch the army of kids burst through the doors of Midtown Tech and straggle off towards their own destinations. Peter was nowhere to be seen yet and Happy took the opportunity to place the address Tony had sent him into the vehicles GPS system.
Happy felt his brows furrow slightly when he realized that he didn’t recognize the new drop off point. It was somewhere just outside of the city, but what building or residence, he couldn’t tell. It definitely wasn’t owned by Stark Industries.
A sudden tapping sound against the window of the passenger seat door startled him out of his confusion. Peter waved at him before pointing at the door and mouthing “It’s locked”.
“Ah, shit..” He muttered, quickly hitting the unlock button so Peter could climb in. “Sorry kid.”
Peter slid into the front seat of the borrowed black Audi, an easy smile on his face. “Hey Happy, no worries.” He pulled a candy bar out of the front pocket of his backpack before chucking the bag unceremoniously in the backseat. Teenagers. Happy rolled his eyes as he started the car and maneuvered it out into the streets of New York City.
Peter practically inhaled the small portion of food and Happy made a mental note to stop by the drive-thru on their way out of town to satisfy Peters fast metabolism. “I better not find that trash in here when I return this car back to Tony.” Happy scolded as Peter crumpled the empty wrapper into a ball and tucked it into his sweater pocket.
“No, no, I clean up after myself.”
“Do you now? Because I have some stories from May that cause me to believe otherwise.”
Peters mouth dropped open. “She didn’t… she wouldn’t” Happy nodded his head smugly at the disbelief and panic creeping into his tone. “She didn’t tell you about the socks, did she?”
“She did.” Happy had no idea what Peter was talking about.
“No. No no no. I’ve told her a million times that it was web fluid not-” Happy rolled the car to a stop as a fire truck flew through the intersection in front of them, sirens blaring. Peter put his face in his hands, his cheeks the same colour as the vehicle that had just sped by. “Just yeet me into the sun already.”
“...How was school then?” Happy asked with a smirk on his face, trying hard not to laugh at the red-faced teen beside him. Peter just groaned.
It wasn’t long before Peter had broken out of his stupor and started chatting about a spanish quiz that he probably flunked and yada, yada. Happy couldn’t keep up so he tuned him out, sneakily turning up the ACDC as Peter kept talking; nodding and grunting the occasional ‘mhm’ so Peter wouldn’t feel like he was a nuisance. He liked the kid, but Happy wasn’t one for long conversations and Peter seemed content to talk to the wind, his voice fading into the background as Happy continued to drive them to the odd location Tony had requested the two meet him at.
He wasn’t sure exactly how long it took for Peter to finally notice that they were headed elsewhere than their usual destination, but it was over an hour into the long drive. “Uh, hey Happy?” Peter leaned in to take a closer look at the GPS on the screen between them. He was frowning slightly.
“Yeah, Peter?” He spared a glance from the roads to check their ETA. They were a couple minutes out now, and Happy racked his brain to conjure up any old memories of his foriegn surroundings. He could only draw blanks. As far as he knew, Tony had no personal reason to be here and if he wanted the kid… it had to be Avengers business Happy concluded.
“We’re not going to the compound are we?” Peter sounded just as confused as Happy felt, but he knew it wasn’t his place to question Tony's orders- especially a direct one. “Is it a mission?”
Happy opened his mouth to answer but was abruptly cut off by an unfamiliar robotic voice.
“You have reached your destination.” The GPS chimed as Happy guided the car into an abandoned parking lot set next to an equally empty looking office building. He parked the Audi neatly under the single streetlamp flickering to life under the setting sun.
“Must be. Tony didn’t feel inclined to let me know. You have your suit?” Happy asked as he turned the engine off, leaving the keys inside the ignition. He turned in his seat to face the kid who was looking out the window with scrutinizing eyes.
“Always”, he muttered without moving his gaze. Outside of Peters window was a large cluster of trees with what looked like the beginning of a hiking trail leading out of it. They were parked beside a forested area and the path led deep inside.
Suddenly Peter turned to face him, shoulders tense and face screwed up in worry. “Happy, something’s wrong.”
Confusion instantly morphed into something worse.. Dread. “Do you mean- like Peter tingle?”
Peter gave a sharp nod just as the car rocked forward and began sinking to the side with a loud ‘hiss’.
“Shit.” Happy quickly undid his seat belt and clambered out of the car, pulling the hand gun out of the back of his shirt and clicking off the safety. “Stay here.”
“Wait, Happy-” Peter started but Happy swiftly shut the car door, muffling whatever else Peter had to say. He didn’t have time to argue with Peter- his safety being more important. He knew that the kid was more than capable of covering both their asses but Happy was in charge here, and he was under strict instructions to not let Peter reveal his powers to anyone without the Spider-man suit on. It was for the kids protection both physically and socially- it had been extremely difficult to cover up Peters identity after the whole Mysterio debacle and Happy wasn’t in a rush to undo Tony's intricate work.
Happy turned his back to the car and raised his gun, aiming at the empty parking lot. The coast was clear, so Happy slowly made his way to the rear end of the vehicle, keeping his guard up the entire time. The damage to the car was subtle but effective. The back tire on the drivers side had been impaired just enough to cause a flat.
Happy swore under his breath but froze when he spotted a slight movement on the pavement. A shadow of a person was creeping up behind him, flickering with the light of the streetlamp. Happy steeled himself and turned, savagely swinging the butt of his gun to smash his opponent in the head, but the body was already dropping before he had spun all the way around.
Peter jumped backwards just as Happys fist would have made contact with its target, having knocked the unknown man out seconds before Happy could. “Holy shit, Happy, it’s me!” Peter held both of his hands up in submission in the face of Happys loaded weapon.
“Peter? What are you- I didn’t hear you get out of the car.”
There was no time for Peter to explain when a large man seemingly came out of nowhere and tackled Peter to the ground. The two bodies hit the ground hard and Happy quickly took aim at the man pinning Peter to the asphalt only to have his gun kicked out of his hand by another unknown man appearing on his left.
In Happys aftershock the man took a swing at Happy's head, but Happy was bigger and recovered faster; blocking the punch and the kick that came directly afterwards. A few seconds into the brawl and Happy could already tell that the men attacking him and Peter were well trained and professional by the looks of their gear and resilience.
The glimpse that he took to check on Peter was his downfall. The kid was holding up fine, though it was obvious he was pulling his punches. The first man had recovered from the blow Peter had delivered to his head and had joined the tackler in trying to bring the kid down. Peter looked distraught- probably contemplating how he was supposed to take on two guys at once and not reveal his powers.
The blow to Happys temple brought him to his knees and the kick to his jaw had him sprawling to the side, stars in his vision. When he came around again the cool barrel of a gun was pressed securely to the side of his head.
“Get up. Slowly.” The order was spoken directly in his ear and the firm tug on the back of his jacket further amplified the demand. Happy was smart. He knew to listen to the person who had a gun to your head. So Happy did as he was told, getting to his knees and placing his hands beside his head before standing up on his two feet. His head throbbed and his jaw ached ferociously where he had been kicked.
The man holding him hostage whistled loudly, “Hey kid!”
Peter was in the process of throwing one of the men off him, while the other was pulling himself off of the ground. His head whipped to the side and Happy watched his face crumble at the sight of him standing there with a gun to his head.
Happy felt horrible. He knew what the kid would do for him- for anyone he saw in danger.
Peter would give himself up.
“Get on your knees, or I shoot this fucker.” The man pressed the nose of the gun harder into Happy's head. Peter locked sorrowful eyes with his bodyguard, and Happy shook his head vaguely at the look on Peters face.
Don’t do it Peter, keep fighting. Get yourself out of here.
“Do it!” The gunman screamed so loudly Happy flinched away from the sound.
Slowly, Peter lowered his gaze and raised his hands to his head, gracefully sinking to his knees.
The two men moved fast, forcing Peter onto his stomach and handcuffing his wrists behind his back, while the man next to Happy removed the gun from his head only to secure Happy's hands together with a pair of standard police cuffs as well.
This evening was not going well.
Peter was hoisted to his feet and the both of them were guided to sit next to each other with their backs against the car. Head-wound-man retreated to the hiking path while the other two pulled out their own guns and stood over the pair threateningly. The fact that they had had their own weapons the entire fight and had not used them proved to Happy that the men wanted Peter and him alive. For the time being at least.
“Soooo... you guys come here often?” Happy's head whipped to the side so fast his neck cracked. Peter was smiling smugly up at their guards.
“Peter-” Happy began to warn but was cut off.
“Yeah kid, once a week.” Happy's original captor quipped back sarcastically, causing Happy's head to turn once again. His jaw was really starting to hurt now.
“Diego…” The tackler seethed under his breath, “We’re not to talk to the prisoners.” The larger mans face was set like a stone; completely sober and solemn, and his voice was just as hard.
“Oh, why’s that?” Peter piped up again. Happy wanted to whack him upside the head- a captive situation was no time to act like a smart-ass. Sure, Peter has probably done this hundreds of times, but without the mask- without the suit, he was defenseless and Happy wouldn’t be able to save him if he were to be shot. Nevermind the fact that Happy would never be able to forgive himself.
Tackler pointed his gun directly at Happy’s abdomen. “Keep talking kid, and we shoot the bodyguard.”
Peters teeth clacked together when his jaw closed, and he glared up at the two men. It looked like it was taking all of Peter's power to keep his tongue behind his teeth, but Happy was grateful now that he was. The quiet gave him a moment to think.
Tony had told him to come here as a rendezvous point, but there was no sign that the other man was around. Maybe these men had gotten their hands on Tony first, then found out that Happy was coming with the kid and waited to ambush? But if that was the case… then why would they keep him and Peter alive if they already had the grand prize?
Happy would’ve scratched at his brow but his hands were still cuffed behind his back. Maybe Tony hadn’t been there to begin with. What if the text he had received wasn’t from Tony at all?
“Out of the way.” Head-wound pushed his way through the two armed men and crouched in front of Peters outstretched legs. In one hand he held a small vial, and the other was grasping what looked like the elastic band of a dust mask. In a swift movement he uncapped the vial and poured its contents onto the inside of the mask; the scent of which immediately assaulted the inside of Happys nose. Sickenly sweet.
That couldn’t be good.
“What is that?” Happy blurted against the pain in his jaw as they all watched the clear liquid soak into the coarse fabric of the cheap carpentry mask. Head-wound cast him a quick side glance but made no comment as he extended the dosed item towards Peters face.
The kid quickly turned his head away as the man reached for him but froze as their guards resumed their aim at Happys chest. Happy could see the hairs on Peters exposed skin standing upright. Shit. This was so not good.
If these men didn’t kill him, May Parker definitely would.
“Hey, hey!” Happy's voice verged on the edge of panic but he couldn’t let himself lose control now. He tugged on his handcuffs- already forgetting about them- in a futile last-ditch effort to stop the man from securing the mask to Peters frightened face. The teen had his eyes squeezed shut and was obviously holding his breath. The stench emanating off the mask had only gotten stronger and was starting to make Happy's head spin drowsily. “Pete, d-don’t… I’m right here, okay?” Happy gave up on trying to distract the man, instead putting his focus on trying to console the tormented kid beside him. The kid he was supposed to be protecting.
Peters face was going purple from lack of oxygen and the men were obviously growing increasingly frustrated with Peters inability to breathe the damn drugs. After a near-minute of nothing happening, the man referred to as Diego promptly stepped forward and kicked Peter in the ribs.
“Hey!” Happy shouted and began to struggle as Peter immediately doubled over and began coughing- hacking as if he was choking, tears blooming in his eyes. Happy pulled on his handcuffs again, hard enough to bring forth bruises; earning his own kick to the shin from the tackler and a gun aimed at his forehead. He locked eyes with the large man, who met his gaze with a glare of the same intensity as the one Happy wore. Their staring match lasted a few seconds before Happy's attention was redirected back to the kid next to him that was now freely drawing whatever the hell head-wound had laced the mask with, straight to his lungs.
Slowly, Peters head tipped back to rest against the car, eyes half-lidded and unfocused.
“Up,” Diego motioned upwards with his gun while maintaining eye contact with Happy. “It’s time to get out of here, big guy.”
But Happy was furious. “What did you just do to him?” He demanded, making no movements to get to his feet. Diego’s face stayed inexpressive as he bent over to grip Happy's bicep hard enough to leave a mark and forcefully pulled him upright.
“You can relax, it’s just chloroform.” Head-wound finally replied as Diego began patting him down. He pulled out Happy's cell phone and let it drop onto the pavement. Happy watched as they did the same to Peters.
“Chloroform?” Was that supposed to calm him down? “Acute inhalation of that shit could kill a person!” And they had it strapped to Peters face.
Head-wound smirked at him, the look in his eyes screaming that he knew something Happy didn’t. “But he’s not a regular person though, is he?”
Happy watched as the tackler placed his gun in his holster and leaned over Peters unmoving form. He couldn’t respond to the man's question, not willing to give away Peters' secret… though something told him the man already knew the answer.
The tackler folded Peter over his shoulders and stood, adjusting the kid to a more comfortable position after reaching his full height. Peters head dangled upside down and Happy prayed in his mind that the mask would just fall off and Peter would spring back into action. His prayers went unanswered.
“Boss said he’s one of those enhanced freaks and he can take whatever we feel like giving him.” Diego spoke into his ear from behind, pressing the barrel of his gun into Happy's back at the same time. “Now let’s get moving while the sun is still up.” He nudged Happy towards the opening of the hiking path. “Oh, and if you feel like running? I shoot out a kneecap and make you crawl the rest of the way.”
Happy didn’t have it in him to let his captor know that he didn’t need to worry because he hadn’t been planning on running. There was no way he was leaving the kid now. It was Happy's job to keep him safe- even if he had basically failed at that at this point- and he would be damned if he ditched Peter now.
They walked for what felt like hours, and for what probably was hours. When they had started their trek the sun had still been visible, but it had long since set, taking the light and dropping the temperature by a noticeable factor. The men seemed prepared for this fact though, head-wound man leading the pack with a flashlight, followed by the tackler and Peter, followed by Happy, followed by Diego. They had also ditched the hiking path… weaving through the woods on a path that only these men had memorized.
They stopped for a break after Peter began to retch into the mask, spilling vomit all down the backside of the tacklers jacket. The man carrying him yelped in surprise, practically dropping Peter onto the cold forest floor where he continued to choke on his own puke.
Happy stepped forward, hands straining against the metal cuffs on his wrists in an attempt to help Peter breathe but was thwarted by Diego's hand fisting the collar of his shirt and gun in his ribs.
Head-wound turned to locate the source of the commotion and found it by shining his light directly at Peters face. He seemed mildly concerned but continued to do nothing as Peter continued to gag.
Happy stumbled over his words in his panic, “Do something! You have to help him- can’t you see he can’t fucking breathe!”
The gun dug into his side even sharper at his outburst, but it was nothing like the pain in his jaw that had him contemplating to never speak again. It hurt like hell to move and made him wonder if it was broken or not.
Head-wound’s head tilted slightly as he kneeled next to Peters face, his flashlight revealing red- rimmed eyes and sweat beaded skin despite the cool air. Much to Happys content, he reached out and pulled the mask off of Peter's face.
The gasp Peter pulled in sounded painful and was much too short for someone meeting fresh air for the first time in forever, as were the intakes that followed. Nevertheless, Happy felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as he gazed upon Peters unrestricted face. Enhanced or not, prolonged exposure to chloroform was horrible for the body, and more importantly, the brain.
Tackler threw his ruined jacket to the ground with a grumble. Happy could see chunks of the chicken nuggets he had picked up for Peter on their ride there now spilled on the forest floor along with whatever else Peter had eaten that day. “My shoulder is fucking killing me, and now…” he gestured to Peter, who lay on his side next to a puddle of vomit, “this”
Head-wound sighed as he stood up. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve always got something to complain about, don’t you.” The man swept the light across the woods and into the face of the whining man. Something caught Happy's eyes as he did so, the light of the flashlight bouncing off a metal surface, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Whatever it was, it was on Peter. He squinted his eyes hard as he looked over Peters limp form, but nothing caught his eye.
“Look man, I’m serious-”
“I believe you. But look where the hell we are!” Head-wound swung his arms out wide, and this time Happy found the source of the gleam. Peters sleeve had ridden up his arm just enough to reveal his Stark watch- custom made red and gold, complete with a panic button that immediately alerted Tony of danger when it was pressed. If Peter was smart, and he was, then he would’ve pressed it as soon as his Spider-sense went off.
Happy could’ve cried. Help was on the way. All he had to do now was keep the kid in one piece until Tony decided to show up.
“What do you suggest we do, huh? Sit here until you feel all better?” Head-wound paused to laugh. “You know we’re on a time limit. Now pick up the kid and let’s keep going. We’re almost there anyway.”
Happy watched in the moonlight as Peters eyes flicked open just as head-wound leaned back down to fix the mask back over his mouth and nose.
“Wait. Don’t-” Happy cut himself off before he could aggravate his injury anymore. He knew that they weren’t going to listen to any of his requests anyway… so he blinked in surprise when the two men in front of him turned to face him.
“What?” Diego asked, hand tightening around the back of his neck.
Happy cleared his throat, “I can carry him.”
Tackler and head-wound shared a look before the latter shone the flashlight in Happys face.
“...Diego, recuff his hands in the front.” Happy stood still in shock as Diego silently did as he was told, undoing and redoing the handcuffs so that his hands were now restrained in front. “Pick him up then, big boy.”
It was a bit difficult to pick Peter up with his wrists in handcuffs, but he managed to scoop the kid into his arms as gently as he could. Peter was a bit heavy but Happy would rather strain himself then have one of their bozo captors carrying him any longer. The way tackler had just thrown him to the ground… Pete could’ve broken a bone in the fall. He was lucky he landed on his back.
Happy glanced down at Peters slack face. It was hard to see in the dark, but not hard to tell that Peter was completely unconscious now. Happy discretely arranged him in his arms so the kids face was pressed into his chest, pushing a small gap between the mask and his face so he could get a little more fresh air. The guards around him either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.
Happy counted it as a win.
Happy was dying under the weight in his arms by the time they finally reached their destination: a shoddy cabin in the middle of abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. He trudged up the steps and into the wooden interior and allowed himself to be guided into the small bedroom without protest.
“Put the kid on the bed. Then sit your ass in the chair.”
Happy lowered Peter onto the single mattress, accidentally jostling him enough to wake him. The kid gave no sign of recognition after opening his eyes; simply gazing through Happy as if he were vapour on a window pane.
Happy didn’t have a moment to catch his breath. Hands were forcing him backwards and into a seat before Peter was even fully out of his arms. His cuffs were undone but his wrists were swiftly rebound with sturdy rope to the arms of the chair he had been pushed into, the process repeating with his ankles soon afterwards.
And then they were gone. Leaving him and Peter alone in the tiny bedroom of the tiny cottage in the big-ass forest, with a click of the locking of the door.
“Well this is great, isn’t it Pete?” Peters wrists had been handcuffed to the headboard of the bed frame and the stupid dust mask was finally gone. He was still breathing shallowly, but his lungs hadn’t given out completely- which was a good sign. He was also awake, but not completely aware- which was a bad sign. “Hey, Peter?”
Peters only response was to turn his head to the sound of Happy's voice.
“Yeah that’s it kid… how do you feel?” Happy tried to make himself sound cheerful, hoping that his tone would help Peter come back around faster.
Peter only blinked.
“Yeah I bet you don’t feel too great right now….” Happy trailed off, surmising that this was a waste of his time. Peter wasn’t capable of responding yet and all Happy was doing was causing his jaw to ache tenderly.
He looked around the small room. It looked just like an average bedroom with a bed, comfy chair (that Happy was tied to), vanity and closet. There were no bars on the window or even a lock that he could see. There was no rug thrown over the hardwood floor that could be hiding a trap door, and if he craned his neck… there was nothing under the neatly made bed either. It was completely… normal. Happy didn’t know what to think of it.
“Mm.. S’ark?” Peter mumbled and rolled onto his side, cuffs clinking against the metal headboard as he shifted.
“Hey, Pete, you with me now?” Happy's heart was filled with relief at the sound of Peter's voice. It was heavily slurred from all the drugs, but the kid was coherent enough at last to form syllables. It was music to Happys ears. “Tony’s not here yet, but he’s on his way.”
Peters glassy eyes found Happy's face and he smiled; chunks of vomit still evident in his teeth. “ ‘e iss?”
“Yeah, cause you hit your panic button.” Peter frowned suddenly and his glazed eyes lazily trailed to his now bare wrist. Happy startled, “You… you hit your panic button, right Peter?”
Peter swallowed slowly and let his eyes droop shut. Happy wished that he imagined the slight shake of his moppy brown head. “Why didn’t you hit your panic button?!” Happy hissed through his teeth.
Peter exhaled, “Wasn’ panicked.” Happy's brain short circuited.
“You weren’t- you… Peter we’ve been kidnapped.” Happy couldn’t comprehend it. This was very, very bad. This whole time Happy had been trusting that Peter had hit that stupid button on his watch and now…
Well, now they were screwed.