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Chapter Text

Peter and Harry Osborn are the ‘it’ couple of New York City. Everyone knows the story of the rich son of a businessman sweeping his childhood best friend off his feet and then they live happily ever after. It seemed to be a modern-day fairytale. The wedding was private, but the reception was the largest party of the year, even larger than New Year's Eve.

 Everyone knows them, and everyone knows exactly what Peter means to Harry.

Harry sits at his, quite frankly, too large desk, head swimming with figures and percentages that he has to memorize. When the door to his office opens, he doesn't even bother to look up.

“I asked not to be interrupted.” He tells whoever it is that was dumb enough to ignore that ‘request’. If it was his father instead of him, well they’d be out of a job and they would currently be being dragged out of the building. 

“I guess I’ll just leave this here then.” The one voice that can always make everything better replies, and Harry looks up. There stands his husband, smile just as crooked as the glasses that sit unevenly on his face, hair a mess, and wearing his typical converse, jeans, and a t-shirt with a flannel thrown over top. 

 Peter is truly the most handsome man that Harry has ever seen. 

And the very large brown bag of what can only be extremely greasy food that he’s holding up proudly doesn’t hurt either. 

“Pete.” Harry smiles, getting up from his desk to meet the other man at the door. He pulls his husband into a deep kiss. 

“Hi,” Peter responds, pulling back with a smile. “I brought lunch.” He shakes the bag slightly. 

“Yes, I noticed.” He says seriously. “And dessert too, it seems.” He wraps his arm around Peter’s waist and pulls him even closer, kissing him once again. 

Peter laughs into the kiss, bringing a hand up to Harry’s chest and pushing him back. Peter’s smile is almost enough to bring Harry to his knees. 

“Hey now. You need to eat.” Peter is trying to be firm, and it’s falling just a bit short. It’s adorable. “I happen to know for a fact that you didn’t eat anything for breakfast before you left today. And knowing you, you’re not going to have much, if anything for dinner. So here I am, fulfilling my husbandly duties and making sure you eat.” 

He walks around his husband, making his way towards the desk and placing the bag on the surface. Peter turns and leans against the desk, hands pressed against it and ankles crossed. Harry wastes no time in crowding against him, placing a hand on either side of Peter’s body and leaning in, his face inches from the other man. 
“I much prefer when you fulfill your other husbandly duties.” Peter snorts and pushes Harry’s face away. 

“Come on, I’m serious.” He slides out from his spot and takes his husband’s hand, leading him around to the other side of the desk. Harry sits in his chair and looks up in pure adoration as Peter perches himself on the desk to his right, feet dangling over the edge. 

“I got five guys, as if there was ever any other option.” He reaches across the desk and grabs the desk, Harry admiring the way his shirt rides up oh so slightly, exposing his midsection for just a few seconds. He almost reaches out to touch Peter, but he sits back up before Harry has a chance too. 

“I got your favorite, a double bacon cheeseburger with A1 and- why are you looking at me like that?” Peter stops as he realizes that he’s being stared at. He reaches up anxiously to adjust his glasses, almost as if he suddenly realized just how out of place he looks in Harry’s office. 

Everything is so new, and expensive, and Harry himself is in a suit. Peter isn’t just out of place in Harry’s office, he’s out of place in Harry’s life. Harry is in a several thousand dollar, hand-tailored suit, and Peter- well, while he isn’t wearing the old hand-me-downs and Goodwill finds, he still dresses like he is. What if all the tabloids are right and Harry just sees him as a charity case. What if-

Harry expertly cuts off his spiral and his movement by grabbing Peter’s wrist. He brings his hand to his mouth and presses a kiss against his knuckle. 

“Don’t get lost in that big brain of yours, bug. I’m just- forever surprised that I was somehow able to get someone as amazing as you to love me. I must have tricked you.” Harry jokes, squeezing Peter’s hand. 

“No trick. Just you. Being an amazing person and caring so deeply about people. You-” Peter chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re going to do so many amazing things, and you’ll do it the right way, you’ve already corrected so many things Oscorp has been doing.” 

“Oh, stop it you.” Harry brushes him off, always having been uncomfortable with praise. Praise such as the type Peter insists on showering him in. “Come on, these burgers aren’t going to eat themselves.” 

Peter tries to take his hand back, but Harry won’t let go, looking smugly at his husband. “Harry…”

“Nope! So sorry Pete, but this hand is now actually Oscorp property.” Harry puts on an obviously fake businessman voice. “Luckily for you, I might be willing to part with it. For the right price, of course.” 

“Of course.” Peter copies Harry’s tone. “And what would the price be?” 

“Oh, I think you know.” 

“Hmm. Indeed I do.” Peter leans down, towards Harry. Harry closes his eyes, ready, and expecting, for Peter’s lips to touch his own. Instead, a wrapped burger is shoved against his face. 

Harry’s eyes snap open, both hands flying up to take the burger out of Peter’s hands. The other man laughs, throwing his head back as the force makes his entire body shake. 

“That’s cheating.” Harry doesn't pout, but damn it! He wants that kiss! Peter, the ever-loving husband, leans down and presses a kiss against his cheek.  

“Come on, you really need to eat.” Peter tells him, taking his own burger from the bag and moving it between the two of them, the fries covering the bottom. Harry unwraps his own burger and holds it in one hand, the other hand moving to rest on Peter’s knee, thumb gently rubbing circles against it. 

The two of them eat and talk, Peter talking about what he’s been learning in his classes recently, and Harry about what’s been going on at Oscorp. It takes them almost no time at all to finish their food. Harry finishes first and he just smiles as Peter excitedly talks about what one of the other students in class did that was just soooo funny when he catches Harry watching. 

“Can I do something for you, Mr. Osborn?” Peter teases, biting down on his last fry. 

“Just enjoying the view, Mr. Osborn.” Harry responds. 

“Actually, unlike Norman, I can truthfully correct you and say it’s Doctor Osborn. Several times over, in fact.” Peter smiles. 

“Ah yes. How could I forget?”

Peter lingers for a bit longer before he stands, stretching his arms above his head. 

“Alright, I should get going. I’m sure you have a lot more to do to prepare for tonight.” 

“Tonight?” Harry tilts his head to the side, trying to remember what it is Peter could be talking about. “What’s tonight?” 

“Your meeting?” Peter replies. “The really big one that happens once a year between all the board members and all of the heads of department. The one-” 

“Norman usually goes too, but he’s making me go instead because everyone thinks I’m in charge now even though he’s still the one pulling all the strings.” Harry finishes flatly. Peter takes his husband’s hand once again and squeezes it softly, a gentle smile on his face. 

“I was going to say ‘The one that means you get a full day off tomorrow, so we get to do whatever we want.’” 

“So I guess that means I can’t skip it and just come home with you?” Harry weakly jokes. 

“You know, it’s not too late, I could still come with you. You were telling me that most of the board members bring their spouses or mistresses of the week.” Peter lightly teases, but Harry shakes his head. 

“They’re vultures. I don’t want to expose you to them. They’ll… I won’t be able to hold myself back if they start running their mouths.” 

It’s sweet that Harry wants to protect Peter, but he just wishes Harry would let him do the same. Instead of responding, Peter leans in, cups the side of his husband’s face, and kisses Harry. 

It’s soft and sweet and when it ends, Harry looks up at Peter, love more than evident in his gaze. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Harry. I’ll see you later.” Peter turns away, his hand gently sliding off Harry’s face. 

Suddenly, the young ‘CEO’ is struck with blinding fear and his hand shoots out and grabs Peter’s wrist just as his last finger falls from his face. Peter turns back to look at him, confusion on his face quickly turning to concern. 

“Harry? Are you okay?” The man in question shakes his head. “Talk to me, babe, what’s wrong?”

“I just-” Harry cuts himself off and swallows heavily. “I have a feeling that if I let you walk out of this room right now, I might never see you again.” The last few words are no more than a whisper, as if he’s afraid that speaking out loud might will them into existence. 

“Hey.” Peter crouches in front of Harry’s chair. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I will be fine. And when you get out of that meeting, I will be waiting for you at home, possibly asleep, but fine. Okay?” 

“Promise?” Harry needs to hear him say it, needs him to promise.

“Promise.” Peter says firmly. Harry stares into his eyes for a moment before grabbing the front of Peter’s shirt and pulls him into a desperate kiss, the contact grounding him. When it’s over, Harry only pulls back enough to talk, his lips brushing against Peter’s.

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” Peter responds. With one more quick kiss, and one more ‘I love you’ exchange, Peter leaves. 

Harry can’t help but shake the feeling that something horrible is about to happen. 

Chapter Text

“Everything alright, Peter?” Jeffry asks as he meets up with Peter outside of Harry’s office. 

Harry has been surrounded by bodyguards his entire life. Norman has always been paranoid that someone is going to kidnap him and hold him for ransom, or torture Oscorp's secrets out of him. The faces of his guards changed all the time, except for one, Jeffery. 

Jeffery joined the team fourteen years ago when he was only 18 and Harry was 10. He quickly became Harry’s main guard, only because he was the only one Harry wouldn’t try to run away from. He was stuck firmly in his rebellious phase and would always try to ditch his guards. Except for Jeffrey, who somehow managed to place himself more as Harry’s older brother than a guard. 

From that point forward, Jeffery was his head guard as well as the person he told everything. He’s the first one he came out to, the one he cried to when his first boyfriend broke his heart, the one he told about his and Peter’s first kiss, and the one he asked advice from when it finally came time to ask Peter to marry him. 

So, naturally, when it came time to assign someone to watch over the most important part of Harry’s life, Jeffery was not only the easy choice, he was the only choice. 

‘You’re the only one I trust to keep my heart safe.’ He had told the older boy. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Peter assures him. “I’m just- I can’t wait for tomorrow.” 

“That’s right, the big day off.” Jeffery teases, but it’s accurate. It’s not often at all that they both have free time at the same time, let alone a whole day. Yes, they sleep side by side every night, but this is different. “Anything big planned? Actually, never mind, I don’t need to hear about that.” 

“Haha.” Peter sarcastically laughs. They make their way to the executive elevator to head down to the ground floor. “But no. No plans. Just a whole day of doing whatever it is that we want to do.” Peter can’t help but smile at just the thought of it. 

They won’t have to wake up early, or even change out of their pajamas. No responsibilities, no classwork, no Oscorp, and no Norman.

“I’m really excited for the two of you. But more so for me, because that means I also get to have the day off.” Jeff grins at Peter as the elevator reaches the main floor. The two men exit the building.

“Do you have anything big planned?” Peter asks, and Jeffery shakes his head. 

“Nope! I’m going to sleep all day long. It is going to be heavenly.” 

Peter can’t help but laugh at Jeff’s over-the-top dramatics. 

One thing that has most certainly changed about Peter is his stubbornness when it comes to taking a car. Unless the destination is twenty miles away or more, Peter is going to walk. Thankfully for Jeffrey, the penthouse is only a mile and a half away from Oscorp. They talk as they walk when suddenly, a block and a half from their destination, Peter stops in his tracks. 

“Peter? Is everything okay?” Jeffery stops a few steps ahead and gives Peter a concerned look.

“Did you hear that?” Peter asks as if he hadn’t heard Jeffery. 

“Hear what?” Before Peter can respond, a quiet sound comes from the alleyway Peter is near. 

“That!” Peter says as he takes off down the alley. He can hear Jeffery running after him, but he doesn't care. Someone needs help. 

Three-fourths of the way down the alley Peter sees a man lying still on the ground. Peter kneels next to him, gently touching the man’s shoulders. 

“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” The man groans in response and before Peter can ask him what happened, Jeffery calls out to him. 

“Peter!” The younger man turns to look at his bodyguard. The second his back is turned, he feels something heavy hit the back of his head. 

Everything goes dark. 

~

Peter’s not sure how long he’s out for. All he knows is that when he wakes up, his head is pounding. He reaches up to rub at the sore spot on the back of his head, but he can’t move his arms. He forces his eyes open, wincing as he does. 

Once his eyes finally focus, he can see that he’s laying down on a metal table. His hands and legs are cuffed down with another metal cuff across his stomach. 

“Hey Peter, how’s your head feeling?” Jeffery’s familiar voice comes from his right. Peter turns his head, which is really more like letting it fall to the side, and sees the older man looking at him with a slightly concerned look on his face. 

“Jeff?” Peter doesn't understand. Why is he strapped down and Jeffery is walking around? “What happened? Where are we?” 

“I’m sorry, Peter.” Jeffery brushes some hair off Peter’s forehead.

“Jeffery.” Peter’s head spins as he struggles to put together what’s going on. “What did… what did you do?” 

“Shh. Don’t strain yourself.” He tries to soothe Peter. “It will all be over soon.” 

“Can be over now. Just let me go. I wan’ Harry. Wanna go home.” Peter tries to convince Jeffery, his friend, but the other man shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry Peter, I can’t. They were going to hurt my sister.” 

“Let us help. Harry can help.” Peter begs, but Jeffery just shakes his head. 

“It’s too late for that now.” Jeffery says all too seriously. Peter opens his mouth to speak, but the older man cuts him off. 

“Peter, listen to me, okay?” Jeffery cups the side of Peter’s face that’s not pressed against the table, and Peter lets out a quiet whimper and tries to pull his head back away from the other man. All he succeeds in doing is making his vision spin thanks to the knot on the back of his head.

“This is going to hurt.” Jeffery tells him seriously. “They’re going to hurt you, smack you around a bit, but at the end of all of this, you’re going to make it home. I promise.” 

“I want to go home.” A tear falls free from Peter’s eye. 

“You will.” Jeffery assures him. Peter can hear a door open and Jeffrey quickly steps away from Peter. 

“Is our guest awake?” A new voice says as the room fills with the smell of cigarette smoke. 

“Yes.” Jeffery glances down at Peter one last time, giving him an apologetic look before moving out of his line of sight. 

A hand grabs Peter’s chin and pulls his head so he’s looking back up. Instead of seeing the ceiling, he sees a man’s face. 

“So, this is Peter, huh?” The man takes a drag of a cigarette that’s perched between his fingers. “He doesn't look like much.”

“What do you want from me?” Peter is proud that his voice doesn't shake when he speaks. 

“You?” The man repeats before throwing his head back and laughing. “Oh no Petty-pie, this isn’t about you.” The man mocks and slaps Peter’s cheek twice. 

“Then what-” 

“This is about your dear husband, Harry.” The man snarls his name.

“If you’re looking for a ransom, he won’t pay it.”  Peter tries to be firm, but he knows he fails miserably. The man laughs even harder than he did the first time. Apparently, he finds Peter hilarious. 

“Oh, I think he would.” He says with a chuckle, taking another drag from his cigarette. “But no, no. This isn’t about a ransom. This, this - “ The humor in his voice is suddenly gone, replaced with venom and he presses his lit cigarette against Peter’s neck. 

Peter screams, trying to thrash his head to get away from the cigarette. However, the man is still holding his chin and keeps him from moving. Tears stream down his face and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jeffery. The other man is looking away from him, looking at the ground, and it really cements to Peter that he’s not going to help him. 

“This is about hurting him.” The man leans down so he’s right next to Peter’s ear and hisses into it. He pulls the cigarette away from Peter’s neck and brings it up to his lips. He tries to take a drag, but frowns when he can’t. “You ruined my cigarette.”

He tosses it in Peter’s face and he flinches, afraid of being burned again. The man finally pushes away, shoving Peter’s head to the side. Tears continue to stream down his face and his chest heaves as he tries to calm himself. 

“All right, time to get this show on the road.” The man stands back up and rolls his shoulders. “Jeffery, hand me his phone. Let’s call the other Mr. Osborn, shall we?” 

Chapter Text

Harry is extremely bored and would rather be anywhere else, especially at home curled up with Peter. As if the other man knew that he was being thought about, Harry’s phone begins to vibrate. He pulls it out and can’t help but smile at the photo of the two of them that comes up when Peter calls him. Unfortunately, he has to let it go to voicemail. 

Just as he’s slipping the phone back into his pocket, it starts vibrating again. That uneasy feeling from earlier returns, and he suddenly needs to talk to Pete, just to assure himself that all is well. 

Harry clears his throat, causing all eyes to fall to him. The head of department that was talking about the advancements that she and her employees had been working on trails off. He almost wants to apologize to her, but he knows that would be frowned upon. 

“I have to take this call.” Harry says firmly, not leaving any room for argument. “If I could have the room?” He phrases it like a question, but it is an order and everyone can tell. Everyone hurries to their feet and rushes out of the conference room. 

By the time everyone is gone, the second call has gone to voicemail. Before Harry can dial Peter, the phone begins to ring again. He wastes no time in answering. 

“Hey bug, is everything alright?” Harry stands up, stretching his legs for the first time in hours, and walks over to the large window that looks out over the city. 

“'Bug?’” A voice that is most certainly not Peter mocks and Harry freezes, a smile that was on his lips falling as he realizes something is very wrong. “Isn’t that sweet?” 

“Who are you? Where is Peter?” Harry demands, but the other man doesn't seem to like it very much. 

“I wouldn’t talk to me like that if I were you. I think I might have something of yours.” Peter. Whoever this man is, he has Peter, which means Harry has to do what he says. 

“What do you want?” Harry will do anything, pay anything to get Peter back safely. 

 “Right now? I want you to turn your camera on. You see, we’re about to have a little show. And I don’t think you’re gonna want to miss this.” Harry pulls the phone away from his ear and jams the ‘Facetime Video’ button. 

What he sees when he does will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Peter, his husband and the man he loves more than anything, strapped down to a table clearly scared. “Peter!” 

“Harry!” Peter tries to turn his head trying to find his husband, but the man holding the phone is positioned behind him. 

“Oh good, you too know each other.” The man jokes. “Here, come hold this.” He says to someone else. Harry can hear footsteps before the phone very clearly changes hands. 

“Ah, that’s much better.” The man walks in front of the camera, rolling his shoulders like holding the phone was a great burden. “Do you know who I am, little Osborn?” A smile pulls at the corner of the man’s lips and he tilts his head to the side. 

Harry frantically thinks, trying to remember this man. He would swear he’s never seen this man before, but that’s not going to be what this mad man wants to hear. His eyes flick back and forth between his husband and the man who wants to hurt them. Harry will say whatever it takes to keep his husband safe. 

“Of course I do.” 

“You hear that, Petey?” The man looks over his shoulder at Peter. “Your husband is a liar.” He faces forward once again, smile completely gone from his face. “He has no clue who I am.” 

“Look, whatever you want, I’ll do it. You want money? I’ll give you as much as you want? You want stocks? Done. Just please, let Peter go.” Harry knows that begging is probably exactly what this man wants right now, for Harry to appear weak and at his mercy, but fuck, he doesn’t care.

“Oh no, nothing like that. What I want is very simple. I want to hurt you.”

“Then hurt me. Not Peter.” Harry implores, but the man just shakes his head. 

“But that’s the thing, Osborn, this ,” The man circles the table, coming to stand next to Peter’s head. Peter flinches away from him as he reaches out and runs his fingers through Peter’s hair. “hurting him, will hurt you. So much more than if it were you strapped to this table.” 

His fingers turn rough and he yanks Peter's hair, causing him to cry out. Harry tenses, gripping the phone in his hand so tightly that if he were thinking about it he would almost be surprised that it hadn’t broken. But that’s not what he’s worried about. He’s worried about his husband. 

“Stop! Why are you doing this?”  The door at the far end of the conference room opens, but Harry doesn't even look up. He can’t look away from Peter. 

“Because you killed my sister.” The man says darkly as he lets go of Peter’s hair. “She was a scientist at Oscorp. Until you decided that she was better as a lab rat, that is. Oscorp experimented on her, tortured her. And you, the head of Oscorp, gave the okay.” 

“That wasn’t me.” Harry tells him. “That wasn’t me. That was my father, Norman Osborn. He’s still in charge of all of that. All I run is the efforts to make Oscorp a greener company and the donations. That’s it. That’s all I have control over.” 

“Lies.” The man hisses. 

“It’s the truth.” Harry beggs. “I’m so sorry for your loss. What happened to her is horrible. But Peter has absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Mr. Osborn, is everything okay?” Felicia, Harry’s assistant, asks softly. He doesn't dare look away from the screen, but he shakes his head as an answer. Felicia is one of the intelligent people that Harry knows, so when she quickly exits the room, he has a small blossom of hope in his chest. 

However, it’s short-lived. 

“I don’t care what you have to say. Nothing will bring her back.” For just a second, Harry mourns with this man. The pain, and the loss, and the misery in his voice makes Harry’s heart hurt. It’s clear that the loss of his sister has destroyed this man. But that doesn't negate the fact that he wants to hurt Peter. 

“So, Mr. Osborn, I’m giving you a choice. You see, I…. procured some items from Oscorp.” The man goes to the far end of the table that Harry’s husband is strapped to and reaches for something that is just out of view of the camera. 

When his hand returns to view, he’s holding a small jar. He shakes it gently as he gets closer to the camera, not even glancing at Peter as he passes him, returning to his original spot. “Do you know what this is, Osborn?” 

Harry looks at the jar, and more specifically what’s moving inside of it. It’s “A spider?” 

“You really have no clue, do you?” The man chuckles darkly. “Allow me to explain. Oscorp has been experimenting with spiders. Seeing if they can enhance certain aspects, like the ability to regrow limbs or the potency of their venom. Some of them, they’ve been trying to alter through many means, such as radiation.” 

“And that one?” Harry doesn't want to know the answer, but he has to know. He has to know what exactly this man is threatening Peter with. 

“This one?” The man shakes the jar again and looks at it. “I have no clue. You see, I didn’t just take this one.” He reaches out to the side once again and grabs a large glass container, about as long as a textbook, that has spiders in it. A lot of them. Too many for Harry to count. “I took them all. And I lost the labels. Whoops.” He shrugged. 

“So we’re going to find out. We’re going to let them bite Peter one by one and find out what they do. Here’s where you come in. You, Mr. Osborn, are going to choose which one we start with.” 

“No.” Harry breathes. 

“Oh come now, don’t be shy. Pick one.” The man unscrews the jar that is holding the singular spider and gently pours it into the other container with the others. He throws the jar on the ground and Harry can hear the glass shatter. Peter flinches, the movement so small that if you weren’t looking for it, you’d miss it. 

“Please. Don’t do this.” Harry quietly beggs. “Take me, hurt me. Just leave Peter alone.” 

“Wow.” The man fakes surprise. He turns over his shoulder, glancing at Peter. “He must hate you after all.” He looks back at Harry with a sinister smile on his lips. “All at once it is.”

“NO!” Harry yells. The man, however, won’t be deterred now that he’s made up his mind. He moves next to Peter, holding the container in both hands. 

“Remember,” He says in a stage whisper, loud enough for Harry to hear him through the phone. “This is his fault. He’s the one who chose this for you.” 

“Please. Don’t do this. Please. Please. He’s didn’t do anything. Don’t hurt him. Please.” Harry speaks without even processing what he’s saying, desperate to find the right thing to say that will convince this mad man to let Peter go. 

The man lifts the container about Peter, and pours the spiders on him, covering him from head to toe. Harry watches as they fall, almost in slow motion, and land on Peter. 

After what feels like it could be seconds or years, Peter starts screaming. His back arches, he thrashes, seemingly trying to throw the spiders off of him. 

“Peter!” Harry calls out, dropping to his knees. He feels even more desperate than before to reach out and help his husband. 

“Oh, that doesn’t sound pleasant.” The man comments like he’s talking about the weather. “You know, now that I think about it, this is probably not the best way to scientifically test something.” He seems to think for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Oh well.” 

“You won’t get away with this.” Harry promises him. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. But what’s important is, you’re going to lose the most important person to you. Just like I did.” And with that, he ends that call. 

Peter’s screams echo in Harry’s ears as he stares at the black screen, his own horror being reflected back at him. The door opens once again and Felicia’s heels quickly click across the floor as she quickly comes to kneel next to him, wrapping an arm around him.

“Felicia-” Whatever Harry was going to say is cut off by a sob as he curls in on himself cradling his phone against his chest like it was his only lifeline.

“They’re going to find him, Harry. They’re going to find him.” She promises as Harry leans into her. He knows she’s right. They’ll find Peter. 

But will they be too late?

Chapter Text

Peter wouldn’t say he’s unfamiliar with pain. He broke his arm when he was seven and he fell off his bike. Flash and his gang would beat him up in middle school and high school almost daily, leaving him littered in bruises and cracked ribs, and concussions way too often. And well, just because he’s in his twenties now doesn't mean he’s any less clumsy than he was as a child. How many times has Harry held a bag of ice against his face because he walked into a wall and broke the frame of his glasses?

But this… None of that compares to this. 

It’s like fire. And ice. The two opposite elements warring inside of him, inside of his veins, his lungs, his bones. Everywhere. 

Peter can’t tell if he’s screaming, or if he’s crying, or if he’s completely silent. There is nothing else except this pain, not even Peter himself. He just exists as a vessel for the pain. That is if he even exists anymore. 

He stays like that for hours. Days. Weeks, even. 

Or maybe he doesn't, maybe it’s only minutes before the darkness overtakes him. 

There’s a flash of someone screaming, something hitting him in the face over and over, and something in Peter’s hands, breaking under his grip. The screaming cut’s off as he’s dragged back into unconsciousness. 

Suddenly there’s more screaming, but it’s different somehow. Something cold, a hand, presses against Peter’s face. He opens his eyes, something that is much harder than it has any right to be. In front of him, he sees the most beautiful sight, what can only be an angel from heaven. 

“Peter?” The angel speaks and Peter smiles. He feels like he can let go.

So he does. 

He falls forward against the angel, losing himself to the darkness for what he feels certain is the final time. Hands scrabble against his arms and back as the angel calls his name again. He feels safe, at home even, in the angel’s arms. 

Peter wakes up again. Which is not something that he expected. His hearing came back to him first. The loud, steady beeping of a machine, the gentle breathing of someone else in the room, chatter coming from outside.

He feels something heavy on his left hand, more than likely another hand, almost certainly Harry. 

Harry. Peter thought that he was never going to see his husband again. That Harry would find his corpse, cold and lifeless. Or maybe even worse, that Harry would never find him. Either because no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t, or because he decided that Peter wasn’t worth it. 

Peter’s eyelids feel horribly heavy, like two elephants are sitting on them, but somehow he manages to force them open. Egar, no, desperate to see his husband. Blinding white fills his vision causing him to close his eyes tightly almost immediately. 

“Peter?” Harry sounds scared, yet so hopeful. Peter turns his head to the left and forces his eyes back open, The blinding light is slightly more bearable, but the room is still as white. White walls, white machines, white blankets. Harry stands out starkly against all the white, dresses in his suit from the last time Peter saw him.   

His suit is wrinkled, his jacket discarded, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, and his tie hanging is hanging undone from his neck. His eyes are bright with tears and something else that Peter can’t quite place. 

“Hey, Harry.” Peter says weakly, a small smile forming on his face. Without hesitation, Harry leans in and kisses Peter desperately, and Peter returns it with as much energy as he possibly can. 

“God, Pete. I- I almost lost you.” Tears fall freely from Harry’s eyes as he pulls back and looks lovingly at his husband. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Peter jokes softly. 

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault, Peter.” Harry tightens his grip on Peter’s hand. He turns his hand over in Harry’s grip, squeezing back. 

“Let me grab your glasses.” Harry lets go of Peter’s hand as he stands up to do just that. Peter frowns at both the loss of Harry’s touch and what he said. 

“My glasses?” Peter looks around the room, everything in sight in perfect clarity, almost more so than his glasses usually provide. “I’m not already wearing them?”

“No, but I’ve got them right here, bug.” Harry returns with the glasses, sitting on the side of the bed next to Peter instead of returning to the chair. He very gently places the glasses on Peter’s face before taking his hand once again. 

The world gets fuzzy as the glasses settle into place. Peter can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the strange experience. He reaches up with a shaky hand and takes the glasses off, looking at them. There’s a large crack running along the frame of them, but the lenses are perfectly fine, no reason that they should make his vision worse.

“Everything alright, Pete?” Harry sounds worried, which Peter absolutely didn’t mean to do. He rolls onto his side and smiles at Harry. Almost as if moving on instinct Harry runs his hand through Peter’s hair, bringing some small bit of normality to this situation. 

“Careful, don’t strain yourself.” Harry says softly.

“I don’t feel a thing.” Peter assures him, and it’s true. There’s no twinge of pain or soreness whatsoever. It’s a strange thought, he remembers the pain from earlier, and can’t help but flinch at the thought.

Harry's hand freezes in Peter’s hair and he goes to remove it, but Peter brings his hand up to his husband's and gently presses it down. A silent encouragement to continue the gentle movement, which Harry obliges. He looks at Peter, a gentle smile on his face, but Peter can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s far away at the moment.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Peter brings a hand to Harry’s face, cradling it gently. Harry turns and presses a kiss against his husband’s palm.

“It’s nothing, bug.”

“It’s not nothing. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m your husband, it’s my job to listen.” Peter encourages gently. Harry looks at him for a moment before sighing, 

“I was so scared, Pete. When I answered that phone and it wasn’t you. And then when he-” Harry cuts himself off, swallowing heavily and looking away from Peter. “Then we found you but I thought it was too late. You were on the ground, sprawled next to Jeffery. His neck was broken and I thought that you were dead too. But then you opened your eyes and called me an angel. You were alive, are alive.” 

Harry’s entire body is tense, his face downcast, but Peter can see tears falling from his face. Peter pushes himself up in one, quick motion, and pulls his husband tight against his chest. Harry clings to him, burying his face in Peter’s neck. He lets himself sob in his husband’s embrace.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I’m okay. I’m here. I’m alive.” Peter wants to tell Harry that it’s not his fault, but he knows he won’t be able to accept that right now. It will be a conversation for another time. For right now, he just needs to assure his husband that he’s alive. 

“They killed Jeff, and they tried to kill you.” A flash of screaming and something breaking, snapping, in his grip echoes in Peter’s mind.

“Jeff was working with them.” Peter says without meaning to. Harry pulls back, eyes wide and almost unbelieving. 

“What?” 

“They were going to hurt his sister, apparently. I don’t think he knew what they were planning. He promised me that I’d make it home.” Peter tells him. Harry is silent for a long time and Peter feels the need to fill the void before the loud beeping of the machine gets louder. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No, I’m sorry Peter. I shouldn’t- You shouldn’t be comforting me, you’re the one who was hurt. You should lay back down.” He gently leads Peter to do so. The injured man wraps his arms tight around his husband and pulls him down too.

Norman had Harry convinced that his feelings don’t matter. Peter’s been spending the last five years of their marriage, really so much longer than that, breaking down those walls that Harry has built. Sometimes, though, he retreats back behind them. It’s Peter’s job not to let him let his father win, and it’s a job he takes quite seriously. 

“Peter, what- what are you doing?” Harry tries to pull away, but Peter won’t let him. “Peter!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you over the sound of cuddling my husband.” Peter teases as he presses a kiss against his husband's cheek. Harry laughs lightly and Peter smiles. “And there he is.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry props himself up on his elbows, hovering over the other man. 

“There’s the man I love.” Harry gently leans down and kisses Peter when he says that. “Now come on, I want to be held.”

Harry sits up fully. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.” 

“I think it is.” Peter argues, grabbing one of Harry’s arms and tries to pull him back down. 

“Peter, you were just…” Harry trails off, but they both know what he would say if he finished that sentence. ‘You were just hurt.’ ‘You were just kidnaped.’ ‘You were just tortured.’ But that doesn't matter to Peter. He really doesn't feel any pain.

“I told you, I’m fine.” Peter argues softly, yet firmly.”

“Bug-” 

“Please?” It almost feels like cheating, he knows Harry can’t say no to him. But Peter desperately needs to be held. He knows that right now nothing that happened is processing, but once it does he’s going to need Harry as close as possible.

“Okay, but if you feel any pain at all, and I mean at all, you tell me.”

“I can do that.” Peter agrees. Harry looks at him for a long moment, almost as if he’s trying to find some sign that Peter’s actually hurting. He must not find one because he gently lays down next to his husband, trying to take up as little space as possible. 

The two of them are facing each other and Peter scoots forward, pressing his face against Harry’s chest and clinging to him as close as possible. It’s familiar and comforting and feels perfect. It’s just what Peter needs. 

“I love you.” He says, words muffled against his husband’s chest.

“I love you too, bug.”

The beeping of the machines and the talking outside is too loud, and it seems to only be getting louder. Peter has had sensory issues before, but nothing that feels like this. It’s only the sound, nothing else seems to be spinning out of control, at least not at this moment. 

Peter pushes his face harder against Harry's chest. He lets out a little whimper, trying to figure out a way to quiet the world. Harry brings a hand up to Peter’s hair and begins to gently run his fingers through it. Peter grabs the hand and brings it against his ear, the one that’s not pressed against Harry's chest, and holds it there. 

Harry seems to get what Peter means, even if he doesn't understand, and he keeps his hand there, even when Peter removes his own. 

“Get some rest, Pete.” Harry’s words rumble through his chest, and before he knows it, Peter follows his advice.