Got You Always kid

chapter 4

"Boss, he's waking up."

"Finally, I thought we killed the little freak before we could even get to him."

Peter's eyes shot up to the sound of two men's deep voices. He looked around, he was in a dark room, it was cold and he was laying on the floor. There was no furniture, only him and the concrete that was stained with lord knows what. He tried to stand up to run away but was pulled down harshly by chains that he didn't even realize where digging into his wrists leaving a bloody imprint.

"Don't struggle, it'll only make it worse. We need you in one piece."

Peter looked around trying to tell where the voices were coming from in the dark room. He blinked hard and squinted trying to focus his eyes on the figures in the room, but the raging headache made it harder.

"You're not gonna find us and neither will your little team," The man seethed, but Peter could practically hear the smirk through his voice.

"How do you know about them? What do you want from me?"

"What we want to know for right now is why you're living with that nuisance, Tony Stark. You have a lovely home with May," The man smirked.

Peter ducked as his Aunt May threw a glass vase towards his head.

"Stupid boy! Who do you think you are to play the hero?" Peter had learned at this point to not say anything back when May was yelling at him.

"Think you're so cool with that Tony stark. He's nothing but poison to you!" At this point she was screaming, hitting Peter, scattering bruises all over his body.

He could easily stop her with his powers but he wouldn't, he wasn't a villain, it's not in his heart.

"Get the hell out of my house."

"Where I am I supposed to go May?"

"Get out!!" She screamed back, her voice was hoarse from yelling causing her to cough and breathe heavily.

Peter tried to reach out to help her but May yelled louder and pushed him back, "I said get out!"

"You don't know anything about that!" Peter spit back, his old life with May was horrible, but that was something nobody knew but him and it was something he didn't plan on sharing either. Tony didn't know, and he didn't want him to. What if it changed the way he viewed him, what if he would be disappointed, what if he didn't want to be around him anymore, or what if he thought he was weak.

"You don't know who you're messing with kid," The man's deep voice echoed in the empty room that Peter and his bloody chained up wrists resided in. Peter slumped back down into the wall trying to relax his body. If he was going to die here he wasn't going to struggle. He evaluated his situation when he noticed his stomach growling, and his mouth becoming noticeably more dry. He started to wonder how long he had been here. He licked his cracked bloody lips and reached up to wipe them with his sleeve.

"Are they even looking for me," Peter didn't realize he said this outloud.

"It's been three days, you're stuck with us."

Peter panicked. If it had been three days already Mr. Stark should have found him sooner. Was he even looking?

And then it was four days, then five and Peter was lying on the floor, skinny and drained. Dark purple bags under his eyes complementing the bruises that surrounded them on his face and body. His body held no posture, he looked as if he didn't have bones, he was just a puddle. His lips were bloody and the chains on his wristed were crusted with his dried blood. His eyes were dry and burned. He barely moved, just waiting for the men to come back and do something with him. But they never did, he was left there to die and there was nothing he could do about it, he had little power left in him and what he did still have, he wanted to use if he had a chance to escape, which he didn't get his hopes up for.