Archive of Our Own

Peter knew that he should have recognized that something was off.

From the moment he heard the scream and the scramble of the person allegedly assaulting the woman, he knew that not everything was right. The woman’s scream, though loud and alarming, lacked the ounce of fear he was used to. The man assaulting her was barely even trying.

But, still, Peter didn’t think it was a good enough excuse to not help the woman so he proceeded as usual. He had been patrolling for a few hours now. It had been mostly calm, and while he was excited about some action, he wished it wasn’t because a woman was being assaulted.

He swung into the alley and jumped down to the ground.

“Hey douchebag,” he said, tugging on the man’s shoulder until he was facing him.

Peter punched him in the face. Not his usual tactic, but any scumbag that assaulted women—or anyone for that matter—deserved it.

The man crumpled to the ground, and Peter made quick work of webbing him up before turning to the woman.

But, when he looked up, the woman was smiling. Not the “oh my goodness, I’ve been saved!” smile, but rather a sadistic, almost evil smile that sent chills down Peter’s spine and made his spidey sense flare.

Before he had time to react, the woman had clicked a button on a device she was holding. Immediately, Peter stumbled, feeling as if all his strength had been depleted. His spidey sense shut off, and his overactive senses dulled to what they were like before Peter had been bitten.

The dramatic change made him feel dizzy and nauseous.

“What did you do?” he managed out.

The woman didn’t say anything. She just continued to smile, and the next thing Peter knew there was a needle being plunged into his neck from behind.

He gasped out in shock, trying to turn to see who did it, but he quickly lost all of his motor skills. Before he could get a coherent thought out, Peter’s world went dark.

He woke up cold and shivering. He was in a concrete room. It was plain with no decorations, no furniture, and only the smallest bit of light.

Peter was chained to the wall as he sat on the floor. His suit was gone, leaving him in a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He had no shoes or socks, and his wrists were sore from the chains.

“Shit,” Peter muttered out, suddenly aware of his situation.

Whatever was going on, Peter knew it was not good.

He tried to think back to what had occurred before he blacked out, and he suddenly remembered the creepy woman with an evil smile and a device– a device that shut off Peter’s powers.

Peter pulled on the chains. They didn’t budge.

They seemed like normal enough chains, however, and a quick glance around the room and a quiet moment of listening confirmed his fears: His powers were somehow shut off. He managed to get kidnapped as Spider-Man and was now no stronger than pre-bite Peter.

This sucked.

Peter looked around the room for something that could help but ultimately came up short. There was nothing. No windows. Just Peter, his chains, and a door across the room.

Peter jumped when it opened. He was so used to being able to either hear when someone was about to enter the room or have his spidey sense warn him, that it was a surprise when someone came through the door without Peter’s knowledge.

He quickly regained his cool and gave them a glare.

“Peter Parker,” the man chanted as he walked in, trailed by numerous guards. “We are so happy to have you here with us.”

The man gave a smug smile that Peter did not return.

“What do you want?” Peter spat out, ready to get this over with.

He was already pissed enough. Not only had these people shut off his powers, but they had also drugged him and kidnapped him. And, Peter was 100% sure he was either late or completely missed lab night at Tony’s. He was supposed to spend the weekend there at the cabin. Morgan was going to be so disappointed.

“Jumping right to the point, eh?” the man taunted. “Well, I’ll tell you what we want. We want to know everything. We want to know where Tony Stark is hiding. We want to know what he’s hiding. And we want to know every single access code you have to his equipment.”

Despite the threat, Peter snorted out a laugh.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and turning his head.

Peter was met with a surprise when a hand came in contact with his face. One of the guards had slapped him, and—ow—it really hurt without Peter’s typical strength.

“You didn’t let me get to the best part, boy. We also want you. We know all about your little father-son relationship with Tony Stark. We also know you are Spider-Man. Do you know what that means?”

Peter didn’t reply, only glaring at the man.

The man tapped Peter’s face over and over. “Huh, huh? You know what that means?”

Peter still only glared.

The man continued, “It means you need to learn how to have a better attitude. There are rules around here, and you will learn all about them. But, if you cooperate and tell us what we want to know, I promise you this will all be a lot less painful.”

Peter, in all honesty, thought this was the stupidest thing ever. Completely unoriginal. 4/10 performance. But, the fact of the matter was, Peter did know a lot of things about Tony that other people didn’t.

Tony and Pepper had decided to move to the cabin when Pepper got pregnant with Morgan. Everything had been kept a secret. Sure, Tony and Pepper had made appearances here and there, (mainly Pepper for Stark Industries), but no one actually knew where they were living. And no one knew Morgan existed. And Tony and Pepper were planning to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Not only that, but Peter knew almost everything about Tony’s lab and work. He knew access codes– dangerous ones, and Tony had trusted him with all of it.

So, even though Peter thought this was stupid, without his powers, he was terrified.

He tried to shake the feeling, and from the outside, he was completely unaffected. Tony would realize something is wrong. Karen will tell him. They’ll send help.

“Now,” the man said. “I’ll give you one chance to do this properly. Where is Tony Stark living?”

Peter glared. He made a silent promise to himself. A promise to not spill any of his secrets no matter what. For Morgan. For Tony. For Pepper. They didn’t deserve to have their lives ruined just because they invited some teenager into their lives.

Peter would be strong. For all their sakes. For May’s sake. And for his own sake.

The man sighed when he realized he would be getting no response from Peter. “Alright, then… take him to the room.”

Hands were suddenly wrapped around Peter’s arms as the chains were removed. Peter struggled, but to no avail with his depleted strength. He was dragged, feet barely keeping up with the guards, as they pulled him down the hall and into a room on the right.

He was strapped to a chair in the middle of the room. Like one that you might find in a dentist’s office.

“Do what you have to get him to talk. I’ll be back later,” the man said before turning on his heel and exiting the room.

Peter gulped, watching one of the guards smirk and walk over to the table next to the chair with various tools and instruments on it. Mentally, he prepared himself.

That’s where Peter’s pain began.

Hours upon hours and an insufferable amount of pain later, Peter finally passed out.

The guards didn’t let up the entire time that they spent torturing Peter. They skinned his hands, carved his chest, pricked, punched, and stabbed all over.

And Peter was in so much pain.

He cried out, but when he did that, he only got in more trouble. The guards thought it was funny, and decided to teach him his “rules” that Peter didn’t really comprehend anyway because everything hurt and he just wanted to go home.

He felt weak and pathetic. Had he had his powers, all of these losers would be on the ground and he would be hopscotching back to the city so he could call Tony and see if he wanted him to pick anything up before heading to the cabin.

But, without his powers, Peter was vulnerable and defenseless, and he hated it.

So when darkness finally crashed down upon Peter, he welcomed it. For now, he would find peace in the dark where he wasn’t being hurt, and he could wait for someone to come to save him.

Things only continued to get worse.

“Come on, Peter. Things will be so much better if you just tell us something. Anything. Don’t you want all of this pain to go away?” the man taunted up in Peter’s bloody face.

He was tired and hungry. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out for, but the moment he was awake, they were back to where they left off– this time, the man in charge took his turn.

Peter spit at him.

“Fucking– bitch!” the man screamed and reached for the lever next to him.

The lever went up and Peter’s entire body started to convulse with electric shocks surging through him. This one was the worst yet. It was the highest level and the longest amount of time it had gone on for at once.

In fairness, Peter thought, he probably shouldn’t have spit at the guy controlling his torture.

When it finally stopped, Peter was crying. He hadn’t meant to, but something about his body shaking uncontrollably, the fear, the hunger, the excruciating pain emitting from multiple places on his body, finally elicited an emotional response.

So, when the lever got pulled down, he was sobbing.

His limbs were still shaking and he felt like he was on fire. He just wanted Tony and May and he wanted to be home where he was safe. He wanted his powers back so he could stop these people and move on with life.

He hiccuped another sob.

The man watched incredulously at first, excited to finally have received an emotional response.

“Shh,” the man falsely comforted, caressing Peter’s face. “This can all stop. There, there. You just need to tell us something about Tony Stark, and we will let you be done for today. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Peter nodded, still sobbing. And then… then he felt horrible with himself. Absolutely disgusted. How could he nod and give up information about Tony like that? Just because he was in a little pain? He could wait for someone to come to save him.

He wouldn’t give up any information. No matter how miserable he was.

“Well?” the man asked.

Peter shook his head no.

The man’s eyes hardened into a glare.

“Keep going,” he grumbled to his guards while standing up. “I’ll be back later.”

Sometime later—a long time later—the man came back.

Peter was barely holding on to his consciousness. He was panting and his eyes fluttered, trying to stop his body from giving out entirely. He was almost scared to go to sleep in fear of never waking up.

“Take him back to his cell. Give him some water and a snack. His powers and healing factor should be kicking back in within the next few hours. We’ll wait a little, and then we’ll stick him with the power reducer,” the man ordered, and Peter was limp as they brought him back to his cell.

Peter had no idea how long it had been since he was taken. A day? Two days maybe? It was hard to tell. The place had no windows and there was no way of telling how long he had been unconscious before.

The guards chained him up and put a glass of water in his shaky hand. He brought it to his mouth slowly, desperate to drink but hardly able to control his movements.

They also gave him a piece of bread.

After that, they left in the darkness for a while. Maybe thirty minutes later, the man returned and Peter’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t ready to continue with his torture yet. They were supposed to let his healing factor kick in before taking them away again. Why was he already here?!

The man dragged in a chair and pulled it up in front of Peter before plopping down into it with a sigh.

“Well, Peter?” he said. “Aren’t you upset you didn’t just tell me something about Tony Stark?”

Peter was in enough pain how it was. He didn’t need it to be rubbed in his face. Besides, he was proud of himself, and he knew that someone would save him. Someone had to save him.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” the man said, leaning forward. “If you don’t give us the information we want, that’s okay. Do you want to know why that’s okay, Peter?”

Peter glared at the man.

“Answer me, Peter.”

Peter wouldn’t.

“Answer me!” the man shouted in rage.

Peter flinched so hard he found himself mumbling out seconds later, “Y-yes, sir.”

He couldn’t even remember what he was saying ‘Yes, sir’ to. The man smiled.

“Good. The reason that it’s not important is because our goal is to hurt Tony Stark. So, if you don’t give us the information, that’s okay. Because we have a way to hurt him right here.”

Peter wasn’t sure if he was concussed, extremely tired, or what because the man wasn’t making any sense. His face must’ve portrayed his confusion because the man elaborated.

“The way to hurt Tony Stark the most is by killing you, Peter. He loves you doesn’t he? It would tear him apart if we killed you. So, see? We don’t actually need information from you,” the man explained and Peter felt small. He felt nothing like Spider-Man. “Of course, I would prefer that didn’t happen, wouldn’t you?”

Peter kept his face firm. Part of him started to subtly notice his body getting stronger. His powers were slowly, just barely coming back.

“I won’t tell you anything,” Peter spat out.

The man stared at him long and hard, trying to decide how true that statement really was. Then, he sighed.

“Oh, Peter. I thought it wouldn’t have to be like this. But, you made your choice, and I understand,” the man said, standing up and pulling a device out of his pocket. “Get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

The man winked and clicked the button on the device, and Peter felt his entire body get sapped of all the energy it had regained. He immediately fell asleep.

When Peter woke up, he was in a box. Or he was assuming it was a box anyway. He couldn’t see, but the walls felt sort of like glass, except it was pitch black.

It freaked Peter out.

Every part of his body was aching and searing in pain. He was exhausted, and he could tell even more that his powers had been drained out of him.

He missed May. And Tony. And Pepper and Morgan. And his friends.

What was taking them so long? Peter wasn’t really expecting Iron Man to swoop in and save the day. Tony was doing all he could to stay retired. But, surely, he would find out and send someone, right? SHIELD? Rhodey? One of the other dozen superheroes he knows?

Peter’s heart sank thinking about it as insecurities crept in. Maybe he didn’t care? Maybe Tony was happy Peter was gone?

He tried to shake that thought out of him. He knew those thoughts were the effects of several days of torture and people spitting his highest insecurities at him repeatedly.

But, one thing that even his captors agreed on? Tony loved Peter. He would save him eventually.

If he lived that long.

Peter thought about the conversation he had with the man the day before. They were planning to kill him, right? Was that why he was there? In a pitch-black box?

He and his thoughts froze when he heard a humming noise. He turned in every direction, trying to see a source– trying to see anything.

There was nothing. He didn’t figure out what was going on until he felt a wetness on his hands and shorts. He patted the ground, and with it came a splash.

The box was filling with water.

Peter’s breath quickened as he quickly came to terms with the situation. He scrambled up, as quickly as he could, which was not very fast given his injuries.

The water was already mid-calf.

Peter felt the walls, pounding on them, looking for a way out before it was too late.

He knew it. He knew they were going to kill him, but he didn’t think it would be like this.

He didn’t think they were going to drown him.

The water reached his waist, and Peter’s fear took over.

“Please!” he shouted. His voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk. “Please! Help me! Let me out!”

The water reached his chest and tears sprouted in his eyes. He started to float with the water until his hand was touching the top and the water was at his lips.

“Help me!” he cried out.

He took a deep breath just as the water covered his mouth and nose and he was totally submerged in water.

He was so scared. Every part of his body was panicking even though he was trying to be calm. He knew what was going to happen, and he wanted it to happen peacefully, but his brain was screaming at him, trying to force itself to survive.

But, at last, Peter’s lungs screamed and he opened his mouth and inhaled water.

He expected to pass out. That’s what happened in movies anyway. But, instead he felt the water enter his lungs and absorbed the liquid, and despite everything they kept breathing.

It was painful, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. His chest ached as they pushed liquid in and out of his lungs. Peter squirmed, feeling like his body was resisting something. And he couldn’t breathe, but he was breathing. It just hurt, and ached and….

And Peter assumed he must be dead.

That was the only thing that made sense right? Even now, his body was starting to calm down, even though his chest felt like it was being ripped open.

So, he must be dead. Because surely, he wasn’t alive. That didn’t make sense. Breathing water?

It was so dark. So empty, that Peter just came to the understanding. He was dead.

Minutes passed, and he waited for something. A light, for his chest to stop hurting, for peace.

But, none of that came.

Until finally, something changed.

There was a bright light and suddenly, Peter was being pulled from the water. There was linding white light shining on him, and he thought: maybe this was it?

But, then his lungs took another breath, this time out of the water.

Peter would have screamed if he could, but instead, he could only gasp because he was choking, and his lungs were trying to breathe, but they didn’t know how to. Peter couldn’t breathe. And he was dead. He was dead. Why did he need to breathe if he was dead?

His entire body felt like it erupted into flames as it tried to adjust from water to air, and he was so confused. The light was white and blinding as he gasped and choked and tried to force his lungs to cough up the water.

Subconsciously Peter felt hands on him, holding him down the ground on the back as he squirmed and tried to breathe. Finally, he was turned on his side.

Peter coughed and gasped for a few minutes while his body seared in pain. He tried to come to grips with what was going on, but he just couldn’t. Everything hurt too much. He was so confused.

When he started to calm down, managing a few breaths with only mild wheezes, the blinding light turned off and Peter was left staring up at the faces of the man and his guards.

“Peter?” the man grumbled out. “You with us?”

Peter continued to try to get a hold of himself while he nodded. Yes, he was there.

“Good. Good. Sorry about that, Peter, but you knew what was going to happen.” The man patted his shoulder. “We had to resuscitate you in order to save you.”

Peter’s mind processed the words. Resuscitation? So, he was dead? But, they brought him back?

Peter shook. His whole body trembled with the recent memory of what just occurred. He had just died and come back to life. He tried not to panic.

“We wanted to give you another chance,” the man explained. “Tell us where Tony Stark lives, and we won’t drown you again. If you don’t tell us, you get another round of that, and you might not be so lucky to survive this time.”

Peter shuddered. He didn’t want to go through that again. He would rather them shoot him and get it done with. But, drowning? That was the worst thing that ever happened to him. He would do anything to not go through again.

So, as he gasped and breathed, he questioned. Tony would forgive him if he told them where he lived, right? Tony would understand, right?

Peter was too scared to question the alternative so he submitted.

“It’s… he lives…,” he mumbled out, hardly aware of himself. “He lives out of the city. In a cabin. North.”

“How far North, Peter?” the man asked.

Peter sighed, disappointed in himself, but in too much pain to care. He realized he was crying.

“An hour and a half? I don’t know exactly.”

The man smiled and ran his hand through Peter’s wet hair. Peter winced when the man hit a sore on his head.

“Very good, Peter. Very good,” the man praised.

The man let him breathe for another few minutes as a reward. Peter didn’t care to wipe the tears from his eyes. He just let it happen as he was consumed in pain.

“Now, Peter. What is Tony Stark’s secret? What is he hiding?”

Peter shook his head. “I-I don’t know.”

The man tisked. He pushed on Peter’s shoulder.

“We know how close to him you are. We know that you know what he’s hiding. So, you need to tell us or we’ll put you back in that box.” The man pointed to the box he had just drowned in.

Peter trembled, now realizing how cold he was. He was terrified of going back in there, but he was even more terrified of giving up information on Morgan. His basically little sister. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

“I don’t know,” he pleaded, voice cracking as tears continued to fall down his face. “Please, I-I… I don’t know anything else. Please.”

The man tisked again.

“Alright,” he said, and paused and looked to his guards. “Put him back in.”

“N-no! Please!” Peter pleaded, but that didn’t stop the guards.

They gathered him up, and he attempted to struggle weakly, but it ultimately did nothing. Without his powers, he was defenseless. And now that he was so hurt? There was no protecting himself from these people.

“P-please!” he shouted again right before he was thrown into the box and the door was slammed shut.

It didn’t take long before the water started rising again. Peter banged his fists against the walls as hard as he could.

“Let me out! Please! Please! I don’t know anything! Please!”

Before he knew it he was at the top of the box again, taking a deep breath as he was submerged underwater.

This time, his lungs fought the transition from air to water, and Peter struggled to understand what was going on. Why wasn’t he passing out?

Finally, his body calmed down and he was left floating in the darkness. His lungs were breathing but it hurt so badly, and his body hated it. Somehow though, he continued to breathe and he stayed conscious despite being on the verge of passing out from fear.

Minutes passed.

And this time, he was sure he was dead. Too much time had passed. When did he get to rest? When did the pain go away?

Just as he started to feel like he was going insane, a door open and his body was being pulled back out of the water. The blinding lights came back.

And his lungs refused to transition into the air. Peter felt like everything was too much. The pain. The lights. His chest was desperately trying to understand how to breathe in air and not water.

Peter was still crying.

The men turned him on his side again.

“Well, well, well,” the man taunted, though Peter hardly comprehended. “Guess who survived another round? You were dead for longer this time. We thought you weren’t coming back.”

Peter tried to wrap his head around the concept. How had he died? Why did it still hurt when he died? Why did they keep resuscitating him? He wanted peace.

He coughed up water and desperately tried to inhale air. Dry air.

“You are one lucky duck, Peter Parker. Spider-Man.” He kicked Peter in the stomach, causing him to gasp. He couldn’t breathe. “Now, you have one more chance. Tell us what Tony Stark is hiding.”

Even had Peter wanted to respond, he wouldn’t have been able to since he couldn’t catch his breath. So, it was a good thing Peter wasn’t planning to respond.

He was terrified, but he wouldn’t say anything about Morgan. He wouldn't.

Peter shook his head.

The man signaled to the guards and they gathered him up again and started dragging him back to the box.

“No!” Peter gasped out, but it was no use.

He could hardly catch his breath and the next thing he knew he was back in the box.

He didn’t even stand up. He just sat with his legs out in the corner, resting his face on the wall as he sobbed.

“P-please,” he muttered out.

His pleas did nothing. The water started to fill the tank again.

Except, this time Peter didn’t fight. He didn’t move. He just sat there, defeated, scared, and defenseless, promising himself that this time when he died, he would die for good.

The water reached his hips on the ground, but then… then something happened.

It stopped.

Peter didn’t care to understand. He was just worried that the men were going to come get him again. He heard shouting, that he didn’t process, too terrified to comprehend.

It went on for some time. He just sobbed against the wall until the door was opening to the box.

He smashed his face against the wall, trying not to look at whoever had decided to open it this time.

“P-please. P-please… I-I don’t… I’m sorry. Please,” he pleaded, refusing to look.

Whoever it was was quiet for a moment.

“Peter?” they said.

Peter’s body tensed. He knew that voice. He knew it. But, what if it was a trick? What if he had gone insane from the torture?

He still wouldn’t look.

“Peter, it’s me, buddy. It’s Tony.”

Peter didn’t turn his head so Tony continued.

“Look at me, bud. I’m right here. It’s over now. You’re safe.” He dropped down next to him and came close, getting water on his own self. Gently, as if Peter was a wounded animal, which he sort of was, he put his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter flinched, but he finally turned to look at Tony.

“M-Mr. Stark?” Peter let out weakly.

Tony nodded. “Yeah, kiddo. It’s me. You’re okay.”

And like that, Peter fell into Tony’s arms, which didn’t hesitate to wrap around him. He kept him close, whispering to him.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re alright.”

Peter sobbed uncontrollably, scared to let go.

“It’s over now. You’re going to be fine. We are going to get you home, okay?” Tony comforted.

Peter nodded into his shirt, getting it soaked, but not caring.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter cried into Tony’s chest.

“Shh, none of that. You’re okay. Everything will be alright.”

“I told them where you live,” Peter admitted.

“No biggie. No problem at all. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Peter nodded again.

After that, Peter doesn’t remember much.

He remembers there were a lot of people. And that soon after, he was on a stretcher with Tony right by his side. He must’ve zoned out or passed out because he doesn’t remember moving. He just knows there was an ambulance. And then, he was asleep.

When Peter woke up, he felt calm.

His body was, anyway. His mind, however, was not.

He was whimpering as he slowly came to consciousness, not ready for another round of torture. He couldn’t even remember what happened last to him. He just knew that he was shaking, despite feeling warm, and his eyes were fighting to stay down.

“It’s okay,” a voice murmured, and a hand ran through his now dry hair.

He knew that voice, and it reminded him of what had happened before he fell asleep. Tony was there, and he told Peter that he was safe.

But, this voice wasn’t Tony. It was warm and female and familiar. It was May.

“May?” he muttered out with a whine, not even opening his eyes.

“Yeah, baby, it’s me.”

“I-I’m so confused,” Peter muttered out again.

“That’s alright. Everything is fine, I promise. You’re safe now. You’re at the Avengers Compound. Tony is here too.”

At that, Peter finally attempted to open his eyes.

It took a little. He opened them the smallest amount and shut them again when he was blinded by light.

“It’s okay if you’re a little sensitive right now, bud,” Tony said. “Your powers are probably back.”

Peter nodded but continued to fight until his eyes were totally open. When they were, he blinked a few times before looking around.

May was on his left, holding his hand tight. Tony was on the right, sitting on a chair and trying to give Peter some space.

“How are you feeling?” May asked.

Peter took a deep breath and then shrugged.

“Tired,” he mumbled.

She nodded. “That’s normal. You went through a lot, sweetie.”

Peter took her in. She had bags under her eyes, and they were red and puffy. Probably from the lack of sleep the past few days and crying.

Then, he turned to Tony. He was surprised to see similar traits to those he saw in May. Red, puffy eyes indicated he was probably crying at some point, which Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen Tony do.

“Mr. Stark… I-I…,” Peter didn’t really know what he was trying to say. He was just happy that Tony was there.

“Back to Mr. Stark, huh, kid?” Tony said with a smile, sitting up so he could take Peter’s other hand. “I missed you, Underoos.”

Peter smiled.

“Are Morgan and Pepper okay?” Peter asked him, and Tony gave him another smile as if he would never get over how great of a kid Peter is.

“They’re 100% fine. Don’t worry about them, kiddo. Just focus on yourself, okay?”

“Bu-but I told them… I told them where…,”

Tony shook his head. “All of those men are in custody. You did nothing wrong.”

Peter sighed, and fell back further into his pillow.

“Why don’t you get some more rest, sweetie? We’ll be right here the whole time,” May said in a comforting voice, and Peter found it hard to resist her suggestion.

After that, it wasn’t long before he fell back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, he felt a lot better.

His mind was more relaxed, and his body wasn’t shaking. He was able to open his eyes right away and see that Tony was to his right still. May was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, kiddo. You feeling better?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded, looking around the room properly. It was some sort of private medical room. There was a window covered by curtains, and he could tell the lights were dimmed, even though Peter could see perfectly.

Briefly, he wondered where May had gone.

“May went to change clothes and grab something to eat just a few minutes ago,” Tony supplied like he could hear Peter’s thoughts. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” Peter said, and it was.

He was fine as long as Tony or May was there.

“Mister…” Peter stopped himself. He hadn’t been calling Tony ‘Mr. Stark’ for a while now. “Tony?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I… I think I died in there. Twice.”

Tony looked shocked by the statement– as if he was surprised Peter was already opening up about this. Then again, so was Peter, but he just had to say it. He had to get it out. Tony’s face morphed from shock to… something else. Regret? Guilt? Anger? Peter wasn’t sure.

Peter continued, “They… they were drowning me. And then they said they resuscitated me twice.”

“They were lying to you, Peter.”

“But, I remember. I was breathing in water. There were lights. I… was dead.”

Tony shook his head, coming forward and grasping his hand again.

“No, kid. They were torturing you with a substance called perfluorocarbon. It holds enough oxygen inside of it for you to breathe it. But, it’s painful and uncomfortable, and when used like how it was on you, it can cause you to think that you are drowning or dead. A lot of people describe the feeling of transitioning from the liquid back to air can feel like being birthed, which isn’t pleasant. That was their goal.”

Peter took in a deep breath. That made sense, he thought. He appreciated Tony’s explanation. He knew exactly what Peter needed to hear, which were the facts. Tony was good with facts, and so was Peter.

“It was… it was scary,” he admitted, looking up at Tony.

“I know. It was probably really scary, huh? But, you’re okay now. I won’t let anything else happen to you. I promise.”

Peter relaxed, and for the first time in a few days, he felt truly safe. He felt like he might survive this, and that before he would know it, he would be back to swinging around the city and hanging out at Tony’s on the weekend.

“I thought you retired from being a superhero?” Peter asked him, with a slight smirk.

Tony shrugged, happy to see Peter being playful. “I’ll never stop being a superhero for you.”

Peter knew that it would take some time to get over what he experienced in such a short time. But, he knew that he would be able to do it. Because he had Tony by his side. And May, who would be there with him through it all. And he also knew he had Pepper and even Morgan.

He had his family, and that was all he needed. He was home when he was with them. Where he belonged.