Loose Threads

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Peter didn't scream. He couldn't. He heard Ace shout his name, he saw the flash of the headlights- they seemed blinding, in that moment. He knew he'd be fine, he'd literally been crushed by an entire building and then hijacked a plane.

But that didn't stop him from freezing in fear, from shaking in anticipation of the barrage of pain he was about to face. (Despite the super strength, getting hit by a car still hurts. A lot.)

But then Ace was there, and he was pushing Peter out of the way. Peter went sprawling on the cement, a good three feet from where he had been standing, which was impossible for a normal person. Peter skinned his palms and knees but he didn't care.

He didn't care because he had looked up and seen Ace get thrown across the pavement. The truck screeched to a stop and Peter scrambled to his feet, running to where Ace had rolled to a stop. Traffic had come to a grinding halt, and people were shouting. Peter was shouting too, calling Ace's name.

And Ace...was also shouting. "Peter!" He called, climbing to his knees and then to his feet, searching for the brunet. When he finally found him, Ace ran over, and hugged Peter, who- although very confused- hugged back, nearly on the verge of tears. "Are you okay? It didn't hit you, right? You're bleeding!" Ace took one of Peter's hands, examining the road-rash, but Peter pulled it back, instead taking Ace's face between his bloody hands and searching for any sign of pain in his bright blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, sort of freaking out. "You just got hit by a truck, Ace, how are you okay?!"

Ace shook his head, still cradled in Peter's palms, which were leaving bloody marks on his cheeks, but neither boy cared. "I don't know, I just- I don't know-" Someone grabbed Ace's arm, tugging him away from Peter, but Peter grabbed Ace's other hand, not about to let go after what just happened, what he'd just seen.

It was the man who'd been driving the U-haul, he was wearing gloves and a beige worker's jumpsuit. He looked shocked, and very worried, and when he spoke, his accent coloured his words with heavy consonants. "I will take to hospital! No worry, much sorry, I will drive to hospital!" He began to tug Ace- and by default, Peter- to the U-haul.

"Uh, wait, we really don't need-" Ace stuttered through a denial, looking to Peter, who recognised the scared look in his eyes, the 'please don't take me to the hospital because I'm seventeen different kinds of medically impossible' face that Peter saw on himself a lot.

The man ignored Ace, still muttering his "many sorry"s and insisting on driving them to the hospital. Ace began trying to pull his arm free, to no avail, and the man basically tossed them in the back of the truck and closed the doors.

-

Peter grunted, squeezing his eyes closed against the pounding in his head. What happened? Was he sick? He didn't remember hitting his head on anything...actually, he didn't remember much of anything.

Ace had been at his apartment, he knew that much. They were...walking to school? No, to the Tower. That's it, they were walking to the Avenger's Tower. So why was Peter asleep? Why did his head hurt? He blinked open his eyes and stared up at a ceiling made of steel beams and girders.

He didn't recognise this place. Peter turned his head, gazing around at cement walls and floors. He definitely didn't recognise this place. Why was he sleeping in a place he didn't know? That wasn't like him.

"Peter!" A voice whispered. It sounded frantic and frayed with worry and terror. "Peter, can you hear me? Please wake up!" Peter turned his head in the direction of the voice, and Ace was there. He was wearing Peter's clothes, which some part of his brain knew wasn't important but it still gave Peter butterflies. Ace's beautiful blue eyes were wide and teary, and there was blood smeared on his cheeks.

"Ace?" Peter mumbled, his voice rough and stretchy to his own ears. "Where are we?" He used his elbows to push himself up, closing his eyes when his head started to spin. Ace helped Peter lean against the wall behind him, hands shaking.

"I don't know. That guy with the U-haul, I think he drugged us. I woke up here. Peter, what do we do? I'm scared."

Ace's trembling voice helped wake Peter up. He blinked hard, willing his headache to go away. The two boys were in a room made of concrete and steel. It was cold and damp, and the only way out was a thick-looking metal door with no window and no handle.

"Okay," Peter said, grabbing one of Ace's shaking hands and placing it on his chest. He knew Ace was on the verge of a full-out panic attack, he recognised the symptoms and they couldn't do anything if they were panicking.

"Try and match your breathing to mine, Ace. I'm okay, and you're okay, and that's what matters. Just breathe." Ace leaned into Peter, resting his head on Peter's collar, taking deep, shaky breaths. After he had calmed down he pulled back, still gripping Peter's hand.

"What do we do, Peter?"

"Okay. Okay, we can figure this out. Okay."

"You keep saying 'okay' and it's not making anything okay, Peter!"

"I know! I'm just trying to figure out...do you still have your phone?" Ace shook his head. "They searched us. Your's is gone too. I checked. We have no way to contact anyone, and no way out of this room unless we break the door down."

Peter sighed. "I figured as much. Tony's probably already looking for us, since you wouldn't have shown up at the Tower and I'm not at school. Word will get around about you being hit by that truck eventually, and it'll be easy for Tony to track us down once he gets wind of that. Of course, we should still try and get out of here on our own, too."

Peter wandered over to the door, running his hand along the frame and edges. It was solid. The only way to get through was opening it from outside or breaking it down. Peter, despite his spider-strength, knew he couldn't break it on his own. It felt way too thick, and he couldn't be sure, but it might be made of vibranium.

He wandered back over to Ace and sat down, close enough that the two were pressed together from shoulder to hip. Ace leaned into Peter, still shaking slightly. Peter wrapped a hand around Ace's shoulders.

"I was afraid of this," Ace mumbled. "I kind of thought there was something...wrong with me, but when we found out...I was afraid of this. I don't want to become some lab rat to be dissected, Peter!"

"I know," Peter replied. "I'm not going to let that happen. I've been in this situation before, I'm sure Mr. Stark is on his way already."

This did seem to help Ace calm down a little, but Peter could still see the minute tremble of his hands and the frantic look in his eyes. Peter sighed. He blamed himself, more than a little. He should have been prepared, his stupid spider sense should have warned him something was wrong, but he was so wrapped up in being with Ace that he hadn't been focusing on anything else. Honestly, he should have expected this on some level. Not many people may know about his connection to Spiderman, but he was a very well-known associate of Mr. Stark, and lots of tabloids still debate whether he's the man's illegitimate son.

"Someone's coming," Ace whispered. He crept closer to the door to listen better, but Peter couldn't hear anything. Which was weird, since he was the one with the enhanced senses. He should be hearing things way before Ace did.

"How can you tell?"

"There's footsteps. And voices, it sounds like two people. One of them is angry." Ace paused to listen, and Peter could now hear the footsteps and the muffled voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. "One of us was brought here by mistake, I think. But I don't know which one they need and which one they don't."

The footsteps were getting uncomfortably close, and Ace scurried back to where Peter was still sitting. "I guess we'll find out," Peter muttered as the footsteps stopped outside the heavy door. It swung open on smooth hinges and wow, Peter was right, it was a very thick door.

Two men stood outside, one dressed in a navy blue business suit and the other in a lab coat. They looked similar enough physically that Peter guessed they might be brothers. The man in the suit looked between Peter and Ace, squinting his eyes and tilting his head. After a moment he sighed and turned to the man in the lab coat.

"Which one is Harrison's kid? Neither of them look anything like the damn picture." 

Oooooooo! does anyone have predictions?