Chapter Text
Peter had been a mess all morning. It started out with a Spanish quiz-unfortunately not interrupted by some random attack on the school. Flash of course took every opportunity to shove him into the lockers. He dodged a little too easily once, and has since dutifully ignored his spidey-sense during passing periods. He was also told he was ineligible for a super awesome field trip to some top secret location. So sue him if he’d been a little on edge and distracted. A little too distracted. So distracted that by the time someone pulled him into the janitor’s closet and stuck a needle in his neck, he’d hardly managed to wonder what was happening. Whatever they injected him with worked quickly; he was out within 5 seconds.
His senses come back slowly, like a computer struggling to boot up. Everything takes too long to go through his head, every thought stumbling its way to the forefront. The memory of the janitor closet finally filters through and he nearly scoffs. Kidnapping, really? They couldn’t have at least done it before the quiz? If they had, he probably would have joined them without whatever drug is finally burning out of his system. Focus Peter. His hands are behind his back, bound by a rough rope based on the scratchy needle sensation burying itself into his wrists. Not ideal, but not vibranium.
That means one of a few things. A: his kidnappers are dumb. Like really dumb. Putting Spider-Man in ropes wouldn’t be the best move. B: they thought the drugs would last longer and planned to switch his restraints later. So, dumb but not bottom of the barrel at least. C: They don’t know he’s Spider-Man. They think he’s just high school student Peter Parker.
Really, all of the options are good news. If they’re dumb, he probably won’t even need help. He can be out by dinner and laugh about this with Mr.Stark. Well, after Mr. Stark freaks out of course and demands to fire everyone in his school responsible for the security breach. If they think he’s just Peter Parker, then they probably just want to ransom him, and Mr. Stark will come get him before he knows it.
His heart races for a moment as he thinks about the danger May and his friends could be in even if this is “dumb Spider-Man kidnapper” territory. That only lasts a moment. He doesn’t hear any other heartbeats in the room with him. He’s trying to get better at not panicking needlessly.
Okay, so, let’s assume friends and family are safe. Only him taken. Deliberately. Possible reasons… Spider-Man, Peter Parker. The rope digs into his wrists again as he inhales, prompting him to try to take in more information.
He seems to be lying on concrete… rough concrete, not smooth. His chest tightens. The building crumbles around him and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe and all he can hear is that incessant drip and there’s dust in his eyes and he’s going to die here and no one will know-
That rope rubs him again, the sensation drawing him back to the present. Different concrete. Different building. He’s okay, and he made it out. His lungs expand again.
Better not focus on the concrete then… sounds. It’s quiet. No one else is in here with him, unless the room is much much bigger than he thinks and they’re far enough away for him to not hear their breathing. Just above the silence, he can hear a faint hum of electricity. That’s a good sign. There might be a computer nearby. He can use that, maybe hack into that to send a distress signal. There is however a distinct lack of traffic sounds. Either he’s deep underground or he is very far away from the city he calls home.
Finally, he opens his eyes. The room is dark- nearly pitch black. If it weren’t for his enhanced senses, Peter wouldn’t even be able to see the outline of the walls. There are no windows, giving a little more credence to the underground theory. Next to him is a bucket of water, so at least they thought about his hydration.
On the other side of the room, there is a chair with a tripod and camera pointing at it. Yeah… not creepy at all. Beyond that, nothing. The only way in or out is the gigantic metal door directly across from Peter. He gives a quick glance to check for cameras installed along the ceiling. He doesn’t see any, but they could be hidden...
Whatever. His hip is sore from laying on the hard ground, and it’s his kidnappers’ fault for not tying him to a pipe or something if they didn’t want him to at least try the door. Peter stands and stretches his neck from side to side before gracefully stepping over his bound wrists to bring them to the front. Thank you swinging for that flexibility. He slowly approaches the door, and that faint hum gets louder. It’s definitely metal, but is it vibranium or just steel? He brings his hands up to test, but a moment after he touches the door, that buzzing increases tenfold and he pulls back with a yelp as the door freaking electrocutes him.
Rude. Bad door. Very bad door. His muscles are still twitching after only a split second of contact with the door. How many volts did they run through that?
He backs away a few more steps, glaring at the door. Then he hears the voices coming. Finally- did they just forget about him or something? How long has it even been? Long enough for him to start to feel pretty hungry…he missed lunch, but he feels hungrier than he would after one missed meal. It’s probably around dinner time?
The lights come on and he blinks back the spots in his vision as the door opens and three men walk in. They each have a pistol and a taser, and two have larger rifles. The first man has a mustache and no rifle, so Peter deems him “Boss Man” in his mind until a better name comes along. Goon one and two are big, but there isn’t anything spectacular about either of them to hold his attention save for the guns in their hands. Boss Man stops in front of him and looks him up and down, gaze pausing on his bound hands that are now in front of him instead of behind.
“Love the bracelets, man. Very chic. You should have let me admire the work before now,” Peter tests his audience, curious if they’ll rise to the bait.
Boss Man doesn’t even raise an eyebrow, the jerk. Sure, it wasn’t his best work, but it wasn’t his worst either.
The two goons step closer and Goon One nudges him with the barrel of his gun. “Sit in the chair. Be quiet.”
“Well if Simon insists.” Again, not his best, but these people aren’t giving him anything. He doesn’t exactly fancy having a side full of bullets though, so he obeys and goes to the chair. Now that he’s closer, he can see the chair seems to be metal with multiple restraints moving up the legs and arms of it. Peter balks at the idea of sitting there.
“Yeah, no, man I think I’d rather not. See, I have this thing about chairs. I like them to be cozy and warm, not metal and-“ Goon One, now affectionately Simon in Peter’s head, hits him in the temple with the barrel of the gun and he stumbles. Goon Two takes advantage of the distraction and wrestles him into the chair. Peter could fight them. He should . But if they don’t know who he is, getting out of their hold easily would be a pretty big giveaway that he isn’t just a teenager. And if they do know who he is, there’s definitely more than these three men waiting for him beyond the electric door and it’s probably best if he lets them underestimate him.
So he lets them win for now. He lets them untie his wrists. He lets them attach the restraints to his arms and legs. He blinks back the stars from the blow to the head and subtly tests the hold of the restraints. That… is not just metal. Definitely vibranium. Okay, maybe he should have fought a little harder a moment ago. Why would they have a vibranium chair for a teenage hostage?
Boss Man steps up to him with a sickening grin. “Hello, Peter. I’m sure you must be very confused right now.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Peter responds, trying to put the pieces together. Rope restraints, vibranium chair, electric door?
“Well, allow me to put you at ease. This will all be over very soon.”
Great. They’re going to kill him and he didn’t even fight back. Maybe he could get a few good headbutts in before he goes?
“You and I are going to make a movie for your boss, Tony Stark.”
Huh… maybe they do just think he’s intern Peter Parker. Yeah. That he can work with. Goon Two clicks the camera on as Boss Man walks behind Peter.
“Hello, Tony Stark. As you can see, we have your intern here. Nice and unharmed- for now. He will remain that way so long as you give us what we want-“
It’s too easy. Peter can’t resist. “You know Mr. Stark would have given you a selfie and autograph without all this hassle, right? I mean I know it can be hard to talk to your heroes, but this is all a bit much.”
Boss Man twists a hand into his curls and yanks Peter’s head back, forcing his neck into an awkward angle. His cologne is strong. Tanned leather and Bergamot.
“You are to remain silent, Peter Parker. Your role is coming.”
“No can do, buckaroo. See, I’ve been told I have an awfully bad habit of running my mouth. Silence is a hard ask.”
“Your options are silence or screaming. Make your choice.”
“See but that’s going back on your word.” He lowers the pitch of his voice to mirror Boss Man’s. “He will remain unharmed so long as you give us what we want.” His voice returns to his own. “You have to keep your promises, or no one will trust you. Did no one ever teach you that?”
Boss Man sighs, but Peter catches a glimpse of satisfaction in his eyes before his head is roughly shoved forward again to face the camera.
“Very well. We start again. Tony Stark will hear your screams first. Perhaps that will soften him to our demands.”
Peter scoffs. “Hate to break it to you, but I don’t exactly plan on helping you extort my mentor.” Boss Man doesn’t reply. He just waves Simon and Goon Two forward. They aren’t holding guns anymore, but Simon has a sledgehammer in his hand now. Where did that come from? Surely they aren’t actually going to hurt him. He’s just a teenager. Sure, a teenager that works for Tony Stark, but still. No, it’s just a bluff. He’s sure of it. As Goon Two starts to fiddle with one of his arm restraints, he becomes less sure. Peter looks back at Boss Man.
“Is… is it too late to say sorry?”
Of course that makes Boss Man smile. “I’m afraid so, Peter. I do hope you’ll learn your lesson.”
Those words drop like a rock in his stomach and Peter starts to struggle now. Goon Two is strong though, and Peter can’t get any leverage with the majority of his body held in the vibranium binds. There’s a soft click as Goon Two secures his wrist in a different restraint a little under a foot to the side of his armrest. It leaves his right arm held at a right angle with nothing underneath it.
He can’t think beyond how bad this is going to hurt. Simon steps up and places the sledgehammer on his arm, lining up his shot. Oh this was such a mistake. He definitely should have kept quiet and let them play ransom. Sure, he’d be embarrassed that he had to be rescued, but it would be better than this. Goon Two grabs his head and forces him to look at the camera again.
“Say cheese,” Boss Man taunts. Peter can feel the air rush as the hammer swings down.