It had been a week. A week since the family's son had been stolen. The tower was strangely silent, despite the work of the family to find Peter.
Tony and Pepper had been nearly catatonic, and Natasha wasn't faring too much better. Even Strange was more reserved than usual, typically locking himself in his room and pouring over books with Bruce on why his portal had failed. He blamed himself.
The Wakandan royals had been called, and Thor and Loki, and all 4 of them had made it to the tower quickly, eager to do whatever they could.
Natasha was in no shape to be working, so she stayed home while Clint and Bucky, who were both quite phenomenal spies, were working in the city to find out who might have taken their nephew.
The rest of the team was working tirelessly on vetting any suspicious activity. Any warehouses who had been bought in the last year was scoured. Any unmarked vehicles were carefully watched.
Ned and MJ were over every day, and for the last 3 nights, had been sleeping over. They were giving any information they might have about suspicious behavior of classmates to Rhodey.
It was slowly killing the family, not having the teen at home with them. And they had no leads, even a week after he had been taken from them.
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Peter was used to the dark by now. He had no idea how long he had been in his little room, and the darkness he was always encased in made that worse. Every now and then, there would be a little bowl shoved under the door, usually cold oatmeal, and a bit of water.
It could be worse.
Peter started telling time by the small meal. He got 2 a day, he supposed, though it may have been much less, or much more. By his count, he had been in the little room 3 days. It felt longer, like maybe he had been there closer to 5 days, but the boy thought maybe the darkness and the cold and the silence was driving him crazy, making him think it had been longer. Once a day, in between his oatmeal, he was pulled out of his little room. He was in a basement, that much was clear. It was dark, like his room, but a little brighter. Enough so that he could see his hands in front of his face.
During those times, he was usually tied to a chair and injected with a strange syringe of something that made him sleepy. Peter would wake up, god knows how long later, bruised and bloodied. He was being tortured.
He'd tried to fight back. He'd tried. Something had happened to him since his capture, maybe it was the near constant PTSD and panic attacks, or the lack of sleep, or the conditions he was in, but he was being stripped of his strength. He was so tired.
The door of his little room banged open, and Peter looked towards his captor.
"Come on," they said gruffly. That voice sent shivers down Peter's spine, and it still had that familiar twinge to it.
Peter was dragged fro the room. He was tied to the chair. He waited for the familiar sting of the needle, but found none.
"We'll be doing something a little different today," his captor said, chuckling lightly. "We'll be keeping you awake, now that I know you can't fight me off."
Peter didn't have the strength to even widen his eyes. He simply let his head hang down.
The man in black punched Peter hard. "Look at me!"
Peter pried his eyes open. Obey, and maybe it'll be bearable, he thought.
The captor chuckled. "How should I entertain myself today?"
Peter licked his lips, feeling how dry his mouth was. "Why- Why are you," he took a breath. His voice was unused and tired. "Why are you doing this- this to me?"
"Oh, Peter, I thought you'd never ask!" His captor turned from the folded table in front of Peter, holding up a knife. "I'm doing this because I hate what you did to me. I hate that you get to be judge, jury, and executioner. I hate all superheroes, you most of all." Peter's captor made their way closer to the teen, drawing the blade across his cheek, chest, back, and shoulders, leaving an intricate pattern of thin cuts. Peter felt his blood bead around the cuts and eventually roll down his skin.
Peter furrowed his brow. "This isn't about my family?"
"What?"
"I thought you wanted me for- for my family. I thou-thought I was bait or something." Peter's voice was warming up, but still rasping and his words were punctuated by sharp breaths. The pain of his new cuts making him shake slightly.
"Oh, Peter... This has nothing to do with your rich daddy or the rest of your family. This is about you and me." His captor threw themselves forward quickly, digging the knife into Peter's shoulder. The teen cried out, throwing his head back. Blood poured down his arm.
"Should I give you a hint? Of who I am?"
Peter shook violently, trying to keep his breathing even. He didn't care who it was anymore, he just wanted to go home. He whimpered slightly.
"Should I give you a reminder of what you did to me?" The masked person drew the knife over Peter's cheek again, this time deeper. There was sure to be a scar.
Peter blinked away tears. He wouldn't give this person the satisfaction of seeing his cry.
"I've weakened those powers of yours. That super healing won't be so helpful now, see. You'll have these scars for the rest of your life, just like I have mine."
Peter's eyes fluttered as he tried to keep consciousness, while his captor set the knife down. They picked up a whip, and taking it to Peter's back, left a maze of lashes. With each one, Peter cried out, eventually letting himself cry. He wanted to go home, he wanted to see his dad. He wanted his mom.
"Please, stop, please!" He begged for his captor to stop, and was surprised when they did.
"You want me to stop?" The voice was mocking. "Beg."
"Please, stop! I'll do anything," Peter said, his voice breaking. "Anything."
"I want my father back," his captor hissed, whipping Peter once again, and the teen let his eyes close, finally giving himself over to sleep.
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"Guys, go get Tony, I think we found something," Clint burst into the room. Ned, MJ, and the team looked up.
Steve ran to get Tony adn Pepper, while Wanda hurriedly got Natasha.
"It wasn't a student, it was a former student! Someone who has a grudge against Peter for some shit that went down with her dad. We found-"
Ned cut him off. "It's Liz."