Family is More Than Blood

Empty

Peter shivered in the cold, dark room. His body was fully wrapped in netting, making it impossible for him to move without tangling himself more. He was in his normal clothes. What he would give for Karen to be here, giving him advice in her comforting, robotic voice. The ground below him was hard and unforgiving - he already had cramps and aches all over his body. He could smell steel and something salty (which he hoped was iron and not blood) but heard no voices or even footsteps. 

He remembered Happy driving to Ned's where he was going to stop by and tell him about staying with Mr. Stark. He could see Ned's front door in his mind's eye and then... nothing. He didn't even remember blackness. It was as though nothing had happened since then and now - though things most certainly had. He could feel his eye swelling and his split lip and been reopened. His gut also felt sore, as though he had been punched there many hours ago. He could feel numerous cuts stinging all over his arms and legs, made worse by the chafing of the netting. He perked up for a second, convinced he had heard something. When he strained his already super-enhanced ears, though, there was nothing.

For a long time, Peter sat in the silence. He tried to speak occasionally but just opening his mouth hurt and he was parched and raspy. Talking was painful, so he decided to forgo it. Eventually, when he was certain more than two hours had passed but it could have been three or ten, he heard the steady sound of footfalls coming towards his room. The door on the other side was flung open, revealing strobe lighting in the other side. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, momentarily blinded. He felt whoever had entered haul him up. His entire body protested, pain shooting through his leg. Peter realized that his ankle was twisted. The person pushed him forward, leading him roughly through winding corridors.

Mr. Stark I need you.

Peter was more afraid than he realized. He didn't know if he could withstand torture although he had to try. He had no idea what whoever had him wanted him for, and he had no idea if his friends and family were alright.

If I cause them to get hurt, I'll never forgive myself, he thought miserably.

"Well, well, well," a voice purred in his ear. He was forced on his knees and, though he hadn't opened his eyes once, a blindfold was wrapped around his eyes. He could feel plush carpet beneath his knees and he relaxed as much as he could.

I can do this.

No, I can't. Not alone.

Mr. Stark, please.

"Hello, little one," the voice said again. It was female, and vaguely familiar. "Are you ready to begin?"