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Tony had mixed feelings about going back there. On one hand, Peter had made it back safe. On the other hand, burn the fuckers to the ground. Burning the fuckers to the ground won.
Peter had arrived at the Avengers Tower at 2 in the morning about a week prior. He swung himself up to the open level and stumbled inside. Tony and Nat were sitting on the couch in an intense game of chess when he did. Immediately, they both sprang to their feet and ran over. Peter was wearing his suit but didn’t have his mask on, and was covered in blood and dirt.
“What happened?!” Tony yelled, gently guiding him over to the elevator. Nat followed.
“I… got kidnapped,” Peter panted, clutching his ribs. “Shit, that hurts.”
Nat picked him up like a baby, and he let her. “Tell us later,” she said. “Oh my маленький паук, we’ll fix this.”
They made their way to the med bay, and Nat placed him on the table.
“JARVIS, scan him, what’s wrong?” Tony ordered.
Immediately, a light was scanning Peter and information popped up on the screens.
“It seems his ribs are fractured, his left ulna is broken, and there’s a rough gash on his right thigh, as well as several small things but those seem to be healing rapidly. I would suggest setting the ulna and cleaning the gash first,” JARVIS said. “Mr Parker, if you could remove your suit?”
Peter did, and the night was filled with JARVIS and Nat stitching him up and setting his bone. Tony held his hand, and was almost more panicked. As Nat finished the stitches and JARVIS finished wrapping his leg in a cast, Peter heaved a sigh and looked at them.
“Fine. I’ll tell you. As long as!” he added, wincing as Nat tied the knot. “As long as you don’t fly off there and murder them right now.”
Grudgingly, Tony and Nat nodded.
“Good. I was patrolling in upper Manhattan, like normal, but I was swinging over these alleyways that are trouble, and then someone threw a net over me.”
“Like a fishing net?” Tony asked. Peter nodded.
“Exactly! It was weighted, and they caught me mid-swing, so I fell on top of a rooftop. Those things are super hard to get out of -” he exhaled, and Nat handed him some water. He drank, then kept talking “- so I was tangled in it, trying to get out, when a group of people opened a door to the roof, I think, and they came out and one of them smashed my head with a fire extinguisher.”
“Oof,” Tony muttered.
“Yeah, so then I’m knocked out, but when I come to I’m in the boot of a trunk and it feels like we’re going down a really bumpy road. They hadn’t taken off my mask, though. And so Karen’s online, and she tells me where we are and then we pull over. There’s this butchery in Hunts Point but I guess it’s a front because when they opened the trunk and pulled me out the back door was open and it was full of people milling about tables and maps and stuff. So then Karen helps me get out of the cuffs they put me in and I do my thing and get away and… yeah,” Peter finished quietly. He had rushed through the last part, and something about it seemed off, but neither Nat nor Tony pressed.
“We’ll get them,” Nat said, standing up and facing the windows. “I promise.”
Tony hugged him gently and kissed his head.
Four days later, Steve, Tony, Nat, Sam, Clint, and Peter suited up and made their way to the site. Peter was nervous, but Tony had insisted on taking them down. So, as they stood just across the water from the building, Peter nervously twisted his hands.
“It’s hard, going back to a place where you were hurt,” Nat said. He hadn’t even heard her approach. “You doing okay, маленький паук?”
Peter nodded, then shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can stay here,” she offered. “We can go in and kick their asses and turn them in.”
“No, I can’t do that, either.” He took a deep breath. “I can do this. Just be there. That’s all I need to do.”
“Damn right,” Tony said, walking up to him and putting his arm around him. “We’ll do all the work. Just be there.”
Peter nodded and offered him a hasty smile. With that, Tony picked up Peter and Clint as Sam picked up Steve and Nat, and they flew across the river.
With a threataning clang, they landed on the metal roof of the ‘butchery.’ Clint loaded his bow and Nat drew her guns as they went down the ladder.
“Ready?” Tony asked, then busted down the back door without asking.
It was empty. There were some tables and chairs in the huge space, but not a single person was there. The six of them stood in the doorway for a moment, looking around. Slowly, they advanced, weapons drawn.
“Hello?” Tony called. Only his echo answered.
“This is a trap,” Steve whispered.
“No shit, Sherlock. Or do you not understand that reference,” Sam hissed back.
“Elementary,” Steve responded.
With a clang, just as Peter crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them. He yelped and spun around. A whirring noise began, and a light blinded all of them. Nat fired her gun automatically, but as they recovered, they could see the projector on the opposite side of the room.
“What’s going on?” Clint asked, sweeping the room.
“No heat signatures anywhere,” Tony muttered.
“Guys,” Sam said. He was facing the wall behind them.
Images were being projected on them. The team backed up and moved out of the light. It was a video of the werehouse they were standing in, except it was packed with people. Peter shrunk behind Tony, trembling. Clint fired an arrow at the images, but it only hit the wall.
“What was that for?” Steve asked.
“Hell if I know,” he muttered.
Then the door in the video opened with a clang. Three people dragged a hooded Peter in. Tony inhaled sharply. In the video, they were dragging Peter by his shoulders, and he was clearly unconcious. Two other people came over and they chained Peter against a wall, two ropes under his armpits, one around his waist, two around his wrists, and two around his ankles. He was spread like a star against the wall.
“Peter, what is this?” Steve asked, not taking his eyes of the video. Peter didn’t answer, still hiding behind Tony. “You said they didn’t hurt you.”
“Shush, look,” Sam said softly, nodding back to the wall.
Someone else came up to Peter’s limp body and jabbed a needle into his arm and took off the hood. His mask was off. Within a few seconds, Peter groggily raised his head and looked around. It took a second, but then he became panicked.
“Wh- what’s going on?” video-Peter exclaimed. “Who are you?”
“Nothing to you. Just pain,” one of them said. “You hurt each one of us, in one way or another. For me? You killed my brother. And so I’ll kill you for that,” they snarled.
Video-Peter shrunk into himself, and he looked absolutely petrified. Then the person flipped open a switchblade and sank it deftly into Peter’s leg. Video-Peter let out a terrible scream and everyone jumped. Real Peter cowered and Tony instinctively grabbed him and hugged him close. To their horror, the giant mass of people queued up and each delivered a slice, punch, slap, or stab to Peter. He wailed and screamed and pleaded, but nothing deterred them. He yelled for them, for Mr Stark and Natasha and Steve and Clint and Ned and everyone he loved. But none of them arrived. His suit was ripped aside, and his abdomen was a mass of bloody flesh. His face was red and it looked like his nose was broken. Slowly, he fell silent and his screams turned to whimpers turned to groans turned to silence. Finally, his blood was pooling on the ground, and they stopped.
“That’s for everyone you couldn’t save,” one of them hissed. But Video-Peter’s chin was resting against his chest.
The video stopped.
Everyone turned to Peter, who was silently crying in Tony’s arms. Tony was crying as well, and everyone was shocked.
“I’ll kill them,” Tony snarled, unusually quiet. “I’ll kill them all.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Steve said.
No one protested when Sam kicked open the door. Peter was silent as Tony picked him up, and no one complained when Sam took two trips across the river so that Tony didn’t have to put Peter down. In fact, no one said a word the entire way back to the compound. It was only once they arrived and had taken off their suits and were all holding hot chocolate when they finally cried. All of them, together, crying for their son.