Chapter Text
Peter hates his job, sometimes. Okay, well typically it doesn’t include kidnapping children, and this is definitely the worst one he’s been on, but still. If you ask Peter—which no one ever does—they should really just stick to the good jobs, a good old theft where no one gets hurt (except maybe the rich guys/corporations they steal from, but it’s not like they can’t recover)! Peter thought ransoming kids back to rich parents is cruel to the poor scared kids who have to go through the experience, but again, no one ever listens to Peter, certainly not Toomes and Beck.
Peter hadn’t even known what it was those two had been prepping all month for until this morning when he’d been given instructions. Arguing his point had only gotten him an eye roll and a smack upside the head (“Just do what you’re told, Peter, this could set us up for life—" ) and he knew with the level of planning they had already done for this thing there was no way he could talk them out of this. So here Peter was, crouched on a rooftop adjacent to an elementary school with his red spider-themed mask pulled firmly over his face, questioning—not for the first time—his career choice.
But what other choice did he have, really? It’s not like he could get an actual normal job, considering ‘Peter Parker’ did not exist in any official capacity, and one hint that he was some lab-grown freak would have him thrown back into a life of shady science experiment hell. Peter’s lucky, he knows, that he’s remained free and in relatively good health this long. And he also knows that he owes that fact to Beck and Toomes for plucking his freshly-liberated 7-year-old self off the streets and providing him with shelter, food, training, and a job, as sucky as it could be sometimes. Well, them and Mary and Richard Parker for liberating him in the first place, but he tries not to think about them very much.
The school bell rang just then and Peter perked up from his angsty slouch, paying close attention as he heard the loud shuffling and talking signaling the typical end of school day chaos. The big white eyes of his mask narrowed in, camera feed playing back to Phineas Mason, Toomes’ ‘guy in the chair’ and mechanical engineering genius. Mason spoke up a few moments later, “There!” The miniature screen in his mask highlighted two kids coming out of the school together, a dark-haired girl and boy, approximately 11 and 9 years old.
“Follow them out of range of the school’s cameras and then pick them up, you’ve got a very small window before they get on the bus,” Mason instructed from his place in the teched out van parked a block away. Peter sighed with resignation, a pit of guilt already forming in his gut as he leapt to the next rooftop closer to the exit the kids had come from. He crouched, checking his web shooters were ready.
The moment the kids were blocked from view by the school’s dumpster area, he leapt down, shooting webs at each of the kid’s mouths. Predictably, the two kids’ hands instantly went to their mouths in panic and Peter quickly webbed those up too. He tried to ignore the obvious fear and panic on the poor kids’ faces as he scooped them both up, sticking the boy to his back with more webs and carrying the girl in his arms. He was headed down their pre-determined route in a matter of seconds, running quickly but trying to keep the kids as comfortable as possible. A couple of streets later he was at the van, which Mason already had open in anticipation of his arrival. Peter leapt into it and Mason slammed the door closed before turning to the teen, helping to pull the younger boy off his back as Peter gently set the girl on the floor.
“Go to sleep, now,” Peter heard Mason say, and when he turned around, he saw the large man with the patchy ginger beard drawing a syringe out of the kidnapped boy’s arm, the kid slumping a moment later.
“What is that?!” Peter cried, instantly alarmed. He hated injections, and had most definitely not been informed of this part of the plan.
“Just a sedative to keep them down for the road,” Mason replied, turning to the girl with another loaded syringe. “Don’t want them making a big fuss, we’ve got a long trip.” The girl struggled against her sticky bindings as he approached, tears streaming from her fear-filled eyes. Peter felt his stomach twist into nauseating knots.
“Is that necessary?” Peter asked faintly, even as Mason injected the girl, the fear clearing from her face as she fell into unconsciousness.
“Toomes went to a lot of trouble to get this stuff, Kid, now pipe down and keep an eye on them while I drive,” Mason replied, eyeing the teen sharply. He turned and made his way to the driver’s seat, and put the already running van into drive. They took off quickly and Peter was forced to sit down next to the unconscious kids, yanking off his mask and pulling their heads onto his lap in an effort to provide what comfort he could to them. Did Peter mention he hated this job?
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The drive from a small town in upstate New York down to their warehouse base in Queens took around 3 hours. The whole time Peter sat staring at the faces of the kids he had helped kidnap, wracked with guilt. He had never felt more like a monster in his life, even back when he had spent his days being watched and prodded by nameless scientists for the ‘enhancements’ they had forced into his body. The kids hadn’t stirred once, concerning enough that Peter had checked many times to be sure the boy and girl were still breathing and weren’t experiencing any awful side effects. (Peter knew enough about those, thank you very much.)
Mason came around after parking the van to help take the kids in, the chubby man struggling to pick the girl up enough that Peter offered to just put one of the kids on his back like before. The sweating man agreed at once, and Peter followed him into the warehouse with both kids, making their way up to the main floor.
Toomes was waiting when they got there, and he curtly directed Peter to put the kids in the space that a week ago had been Beck’s ‘office’, never taking his eyes off the screens he was watching. Beck’s old office was a smaller space cordoned off from the big main room by a wall of plexiglass, the door only accessible by key card that Peter had never been allowed access to before. The space had been emptied of Quentin Beck’s multitude of technological projects, mainly his drone technology that he was obsessive about, and the room was now only an expanse of concrete with a door (currently missing its handle and lock) leading to a small attached bathroom consisting of a sink and toilet. Or at least it had been completely empty that morning. Now there was a young woman and a little girl lying on the floor.
Peter hesitated at the entrance that Mason scanned open for him, then stepped inside. He gently laid the two kids he was carrying down on the ground next to the others, making a mental note to get them something more comfortable. He stopped to look over the other occupants. The young woman had dark skin and micro-braids pulled up into a bun on top of her head. She was wearing a high-necked fashionable blouse and practical pants in a style he had never seen before, and Peter guessed she was a teenager, around his age maybe, or a little older. The younger girl had pale skin, long brown hair, and appeared to be around 8 years old.
Peter turned back towards Toomes and Mason, eyes full of concern and uncertainty, prepared to ask what all this was about, when Beck walked in. Beck had yet another young kid slung over his shoulder, a little girl in a pink sweater and tutu over black leggings. He motioned Peter to come take her and Peter hurried over. He could tell from the look on the man’s face that now was not a good time to argue—Peter was eager to avoid one of his more violent mood swings. Peter took the girl Beck practically threw at him as gently as possible and moved to deposit her next to the others, brushing her dark brown hair out of her face as he laid her down.
“Any problems?” Toomes asked gruffly, turning to face Beck who was running an agitated hand through his hair.
“It’s possible the bodyguard caught a glimpse of me. See anything yet?” Beck answered, moving next to Toomes to look over the screens.
“Nothing alarming yet, I think you’re good,” Toomes replied, motioning Mason over as he typed at some of the screens. Peter stood, fidgeting anxiously inside the office turned holding cell, beginning to sweat as his nerves picked up. He had known they were doing a kidnapping job, yes, but this? This was much bigger than he had anticipated. Five kids? All at once? Presumably belonging to pretty important people based on how much prep work and apprehensive pacing the adults had already done. And Beck seemed downright anxious, which was never a good sign on the normally composed and charismatic man.
“Where’s Schultz?” Beck asked, glancing around after a moment. Herman Schultz was a brute of a man, hired muscle more than anything, though Peter found him very entertaining at times. For instance, the man had taken to calling himself ‘the Shocker’ lately, the actual stupidest name ever.
“I sent him to get a couple things. He’ll be back soon.” Toomes replied.
“Any issues with him and his target?” Beck folded his arms, settling back to lean against a desk.
“None, the Lang girl was in a standard public school, minimal security.”
“Mason?” The two turned to the shorter chubby man who was wiping sweat off his forehead.
“Nothing. I had an eye on the cameras and the kid the whole time. Went as smooth as we hoped.” Mason said, glancing back towards where Peter was now standing just outside the cell. Peter tensed as Beck looked him over, gaze cold and calculating, but the man did nothing but nod.
“Good, let’s keep it that way. When Schultz gets back we need all hands on deck covering our tracks.” Beck turned back to the screens, but his attention was caught again when Peter shuffled forward.
“Um?” Peter spoke up, nervously pulling at his sleeves. “What should I do then?”
“Watch the kids. Keep them from doing anything stupid.” Toomes was the one who replied, dismissively turning away.
“Oh, and Peter?” Beck added on in his sickly-sweet tone, “Stay out of the way.” Peter swallowed, accepting the access card Mason held out to him with a slightly shaky hand. He turned and went back into the cell, the men’s voices growing muffled even to his enhanced hearing. He sat against the wall and waited, fiddling with the cartridges on his web shooters.
About fifteen minutes later, Schultz reappeared and all four men disappeared into the next room which held even more screens and computers, the workspace mostly dedicated to Mason and Toomes with their variety of experimental tech. Peter was also not allowed in there, but it didn’t bother him much. Peter had his own workspace in his own room—admittedly a tiny room adjacent to the main gathering area that was little more than a closet—that Peter used to perfect his own gear. It was also his bedroom, though he was the only one that actually slept at ‘base camp’. The adults all had their own homes and apartments and whatnot. But beggars can’t be choosers and all that, and Peter doesn’t mind his little room, really, it was far better than the sterile laboratory cell he had when he was younger.
Speaking of bedrooms, Peter should probably get the kids something more comfortable than the cold concrete floor to lay on considering it was unlikely they would be going home before nightfall. Peter left the office-cell and poked his head into the room where the adults were talking with a knock on the frame. They all looked at him, pausing their conversation.
“Um, I was thinking maybe I could go shopping? For the kids and all? Cause they’ll probably need stuff while they’re here, and probably some food too, like I can pick something up on the way back if you guys—”
“That’s fine, Peter. Just make sure the kids are secure before you leave.” Beck instructed, already turning away. At least he seemed a bit more relaxed than earlier. Peter nodded and left quickly, checking on the still unconscious kids before hurrying out the door.
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When Peter returned carrying a large armful of bags containing supplies and a fast-food bag clutched in his fist, the adults were all gone. And, more importantly, the kids were awake. Peter stopped upon seeing them all grouped together in the corner, the older kids comforting and shielding the littler ones. One of the little girls whimpered and Peter’s heart tugged in his chest. He put on his most disarming and hopefully comforting smile and approached the cell, maneuvering the many things in his arms awkwardly so he could use the access card.
“Hey guys, I brought some goodies. Don’t worry, I only got the good stuff.” It was definitely a lame introduction to a bunch of kids he’d helped kidnap, but Peter couldn’t think of much better. “Um, I’m Peter by the way. Parker. Peter Parker, I mean.”
“What do you want with us?” The oldest girl, the dark-skinned young woman, asked with an unfamiliar accent.
“Nothing!” Peter hurried to assure her, setting all the bags down near the entrance, hesitant to come closer to where they were gathered in the farthest corner with the way the other youths were either glaring suspiciously at him or cowering fearfully. “Well, I mean, I don’t personally want anything to do with you guys… uh, no offense! What I mean to say is this totally wasn’t even my idea and I strongly disagree with the morality of kidnapping in general, but like…” He trailed off lamely with a shrug, fidgeting awkwardly and not meeting their eyes. “…It’s kind of complicated?”
“So let us go,” the same girl said, eyes narrowed unsympathetically. Peter winced.
“Well, um, I kind of can’t do that either? It’s, uh, not really my call to make? I mean, I totally would if I could!” Peter, hoping to smooth things over and distract them, picked up the fast-food bag he had set down. “But I brought food if you guys are hungry?” The older girl was unimpressed but he saw the only boy of the group shift slightly, eyes on the bag of greasy cheeseburgers and fries. He made his way slowly over to them, making sure to approach as non-threateningly as possible. He sat down across from the group and started pulling a bunch of food from the extra-large bag, setting it down in the space between them. No one moved.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Peter picked up one of the cheeseburgers and unwrapped it. He took a bite, and when still none of the kids moved, he said, “I’m sure you guys are hungry. It’s pretty late for dinner.” He nudged the food closer to them, trying to ignore how the kids shied away.
“What time is it?” The second oldest girl asked. Eager to be helpful, Peter looked at his watch.
“Like 8:30, you guys were out for quite a while.”
“Why are you doing this?” The girl with the heavy accent asked again. Peter sighed.
“I told you, it’s complicated. But the short version is that I was told to. And I’m in charge of taking care of you guys while you’re here. But,” Peter set down his food, looking each of them in the eyes with as much sincerity as he could, “I can promise you that I will make sure you don’t get hurt and you’ll get back to your families once they get what they want. You guys’ll be okay, okay?” The kids didn’t look terribly reassured, but at least the boy shifted a little closer, still eyeing the food.
“You didn’t poison it, did you?” the boy asked, hand half hovering out towards the food. Peter let out an incredulous half laugh.
“No! Of course not! If I did, I certainly wouldn’t be eating it myself, would I?” Peter picked up his burger again and took a big bite as if to prove a point. Seemingly satisfied, the younger boy took two of the burgers, passing one to what was assumedly his sister. The oldest girl also reached out and grabbed a couple of burgers, passing one to each of the younger girls curled up on either side of her. They all ate for a minute before Peter spoke up again.
“So, what are your names? You already know mine, seems fair.”
“You don’t know our names?” The oldest girl was squinting at him suspiciously again.
Peter shifted uncomfortably. “Uh… no? Should I?” The girl didn’t respond for a long moment, before seemingly coming to a decision.
“Shuri. My name’s Shuri.”
“And I’m Lila, and this is my brother, Cooper.” The second oldest girl chimed in, gesturing towards the boy next to her.
“Cassie,” The girl who looked to be about eight seated next to Shuri said shyly.
“I’m Morgan!” The youngest girl said after with a smile, seeming to have cheered up considerably after receiving deliciously greasy food. “I’m five!” Peter smiled back at her.
“Nice to meet you all!” Peter finished his burger and got up to go back to the shopping bags, carrying them over to the group and beginning to pull out sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and a couple toiletries. “It’s not much, if you need anything else I can go get it for you. Any requests?”
“Freedom,” Shuri replied drily, picking a pickle off her cheeseburger.
Peter scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… other than that…”
“How long are we going to be here?” Lila asked, though it was more curious than accusatory.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Peter shrugged, feeling bad all over again. “I guess it depends on how long the, um, ransom takes?” Shuri rolled her eyes at him with a huff.
“Maybe some clothes then?” Lila asked hesitantly. Peter nodded immediately.
“Yeah, of course. And I’ll put the toiletry stuff in the bathroom for you. The water is good if you need a drink. Oh, I should probably get cups and stuff…” Peter placed the toiletries next to the sink. He turned and left the bathroom where he was suddenly shoved up against the wall by the older girl, Shuri.
“You’re going to let us out of here,” she said in a low, dangerous tone. Peter could see out of the corner of his eye the other kids still sat in the corner watching with wide eyes. Peter instinctively grabbed the teen’s wrists as she went to restrain him, his enhanced strength making it easy to then push her away, though he was careful not to hurt her.
“I really can’t—” Peter didn’t get to finish as the girl launched herself at him again, using combat moves that were clearly practiced and fairly advanced. Unfortunately for her, Peter was also well practiced in hand-to-hand and had enhanced speed and strength to boot. He twisted away from her blows and lunges before taking an opportunity to snatch a wrist again, then the other, holding her firmly but gently. She struggled in his hold, kicking out at him, and he twisted to hook his leg around hers, allowing her own momentum to unbalance her before lowering her to the ground. Peter pinned her there, though she continued to struggle, fear creeping into her determined eyes, and Peter felt that twisting in his gut again.
“Relax!” He practically pleaded as her struggles started to die down. “I really can’t let you go, I’m sorry!” Shuri stopped struggling, her face settling into a defiant mask intended to hide the fear shining in her eyes. It was a look Peter was intimately familiar with, and it made him sick to see on someone else. He let her go immediately, getting up and stepping away from her.
“Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. I really, really don’t want to hurt any of you.” It seemed a bit backwards, the captor begging the captives, but Peter didn’t much care for conventional. He didn’t want to be doing this in the first place. Did he mention he hated his job?
Shuri got up cautiously and Peter went tense, half expecting another attack, but she simply retreated back to the other kids. There was a tense silence for a minute, then, “You’re really strong,” Shuri observed in a carefully neutral voice.
Peter shrugged. “Yeah, well you’re weirdly good at fighting for a teenager. You take karate or something?”
“I could say the same about you,” Shuri shot back.
Peter paused, “That’s fair.” He made his way cautiously back over to where he’d left the sleeping supplies and began to set them up, keeping half an eye on Shuri and the kids now in case they tried anything. He really couldn’t blame them, considering their situation, Peter would no doubt do the same. There was another few minutes of tense, awkward silence.
“Um, maybe some, like, entertainment might be good too? Maybe?” Cooper spoke up hesitantly and Peter smiled at him.
“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, you guys should probably get some sleep, it’s getting late.” Peter finished laying out the final ‘bed’ and stood. “I’ll bring breakfast in the morning.” With that he left the cell, locking it down for the night, and went to his own room.
Peter’s gut still twisted with anxiety and guilt as he sat on his bed, pondering the situation he was now in. This wasn’t right. He had to do something, didn’t he? But what could he do? Resolving to attempt to talk the adults out of this stupid plan in the morning, Peter settled down for the night and attempted to sleep. It didn’t come for a long time.