Deep shit
Peter awoke to muffled voices and a pounding headache bigger than New York City. His head lolled on one cheek, and he distantly registered that he was laying on his side on something hard and cold, hands bound, with the smell of wet cardboard and metal in the air, along with the faint -but unmistakable- metallic stench of blood. Was it his? He hoped so. Not that he WANTED to be hurt, per say. He just didn't like the idea of others being hurt. He'd rather himself be hurt than anyone else, on principle. His eyes flickered below his closed, fluttering lids and he furrowed his eyebrows as the voices became clearer, discovering by the pull he felt on his hairline that yes, he did have a head wound, and that the blood he smelt earlier was most probably his. Which was good, because he didn't have to worry about any civilians other than his-
Brothers!
Teary brown eyes snapped open and the fifteen year old keened as rough light assaulted his already shot senses, sending a shock of white hot static throughout his whole system. He could vaguely make out some large dark blobs close to him, reaching out for his prone body. They vaguely seemed to be making soothing noises, but he could hardly tell throughout the sharp ringing in his ears and his eyesight, which had gone inexplicably blurry due to their time spent unused, confused him even more. He tried in vain to bring his arms up to cover his eyes, or at least his ears, but gave a sharp whine as his arms wouldn't obey him. They felt as if they had been replaced with lead. His breath started to seize up, quickening, panicking as his senses only got more and more muddled, disorientating him, what was up? What was down? Who was in the room with him? Friend or foe? friendly? Not? Hurt...pain...too bright too loud too much-
Unable to keep up with his body's stress, Peter's mind succumbed to beautiful darkness once again.
****
Wade hoped to God he wasn't the cause of all of this.
Wade also hoped that whatever scumbag dared to hurt his family got within biting distance.
It's not unusual that Wade was confused, as he often is, between his husbands nerd talk and the general miscommunication of the vigilante community, but he was never, EVER uninformed. It was what he did best, getting information from the dirty, dark slums of the city and using it to his advantage. He also had over half the mercenary world who had his back. Sure he could be a complete jackass like... all the time, but he never picked fights with those who didn't deserve it. If anyone ordered a hit on him, he would have people tell him. He didn't like that someone got the drop on him without some form of previous acknowledgement. When he escaped, and got his baby out safely, he was breaking teeth.
To be honest, while he hoped he wasn't the reason they were all shackled to the ground like fucking dogs, he couldn't really think of any other reason.
which means, surprise surprise, years worth of guilt and diminishing self worth.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. One horrifyingly quick blink.
All he could remember was that he was chatting with Tobey, congratulating him on his new book he had recently published when he heard the kid scream.
oh god the kid.
Peter had been lagging behind them as they talked between themselves with their boring adult drivel, probably full and sleepy from all the food he'd consumed. He had screamed, and Wade swore his heart stopped. His name was ripped from his lips before he had even turned around, his husband and Tobey doing the same. The rest of his heart collapsed as he saw a man bigger than HIMSELF holding a squirming Peter around the waist and chest, displaying him like some disturbing trophy. Peter barely came up to his chest.
Before Wade got a chance to even think about moving, a van full of black suited mafia wannabes pulled up and descended on them. Tobey and Andrew were down almost instantly, but Wade wasn't going down without a fight.
God he tried, he really did. He fought tooth and nail and managed to take down a couple of the slippery bastards, but he swore they kept multiplying every time he got in a hit. He had three people counting on him goddamnit, not to mention one of them was a literal fucking CHILD. What kind of an asshat kidnaps a CHILD? The asshole who had Peter- Macho man, the voices wanted to call him- started to get frustrated with the teens struggling, and had threatened him, and after seeing Peters scared expression, nearly ripped his own arms off in his haste to get to him. "DONT YOU FUCKING TOUCH HIM!" He had roared, but the man had looked down on him in what Wade thought was contempt, and ignored him.
He, Andrew and Tobey watched in horror as their little brother (in-law in Wades case) was dragged out of sight. As soon as macho man disappeared with their kid, they were roughly manhandled into cuffs, the metal cutting into their hands and feet, preventing them from even twitching in a way that might suggest escape. They were dragged and deposited in a huddle into the back of a heavy looking black van, before they were surrounded by all sides by their captors, all guns trained on them. He assumed it was because the doors were open, and not just because it was Wade fucking Wilson glaring at them from the floor. They waited in silence for a minute, apart from Tobey's heavy breathing and Andrews loud gulps, before they heard- very clearly- a cut off yelp and a sickeningly loud crack.
He would never forget that sound, knowing who made it.
Macho man appeared with a limp Peter in his arms a moment later, blood dripping down the side of his face, and threw him inside with an air of someone discarding a piece of trash on the sidewalk.
If the cuffs weren't in the way, Andrew and Tobey would have committed murder that night.
Not that they didn't try. They were nearly animalistic in their attempts to reach him, before macho man had grown tired of their noise.
Next thing you know, guns to the face.
Which was... not ideal, if he was being honest. Because now he had no hope of knowing where they were going, given they were all unconscious.
Wade actually woke up after Andrew and Tobey, the two of them panicking and whispering from where they were tied near each other in one corner of the room, Wade uncomfortably thrown in the other. Andrew had visibly relaxed at the sight of his alert lover, and even Tobey looked calmer. Peter was also with them.... and still unconscious, lying on his side on the opposite side of the room, hands bound in front of him. He asked whether he had woken up before him on the off chance he was taking a well deserved teenage nap, but it was confirmed that no, in the ten minutes they had been awake, he hadn't even twitched. Wades internal clock told him he'd been asleep for at least forty minutes. And for Peter, with a head injury, wasn't good.
He got his wish a while later, however, and regretted it as soon as it happened. It was obvious the kid was in pain, and severely disorientated, probably from when a man twice his size slammed his head into the ground. No amount of reassurances could break through the fog that would have been clouding his mind. Wades heart squeezed any time a wounded whimper would escape his lips. Tobey was gently shushing him from across the room, distraught as he couldn't fulfil his duty as an older brother, watching his youngest thrash around sluggishly. Peter had worked himself up into a panic, looking at them with hazy eyes but seeing through them, hands clawing at the ground and chest heaving. It was almost a relief when those eyes slipped close again.
That was an hour ago, and he hadn't moved since. After Peter was safely unconscious, Andrew let a few tears slip out. He was scared, he'd never been kidnapped before, and he had his baby brother here, unresponsive. At least he had Tobey and Wade awake, though. They could discuss this whole event, and possible plans of escape, without having to worry the young teen. The conversation lulled, after a while, as they couldn't come up with a plan without knowing the layout of the place, not even with Wades expertise.
Andrew sighed to himself, tearing up, eyes pulling away from Tobey to land on Peter.
"He shouldn't be here, Wade. He's just a kid." He croaked, and Wade felt his cold, nearly dead heart jump at the chance to reassure his husband.
"Honey, I'm sorry," he crooned, shuffling into a more comfortable position. In a perfect world he would be in a suit. However, due to the suddenness of the attack, was wearing a hoodie and jeans. Which, isn't that bad to be worn for a couple of hours, but for Wades sensitive and scarred skin, was starting to itch and before long, it would be burning.
"I'm sorry he's here, That you're all here. You shouldn't have to put up with all my shit. I told you baby, I'm bad luck". Even from across the room, Andrews glare was terrifying.
"Wade Winston Wilson, don't you dare start looking down on yourself. I knew when we started dating that things like this could happen, this is what I signed up for. And at least you're here with me. And in fact NONE of us should be here, even you, so dial down on the guilt, man." Tobey nodded, somehow managing to look put together even in the dimly lit box they were confined in.
"Yeah man, don't blame yourself. Blame the guys who kidnapped us. You didn't ask for this, the fault belongs to those, those, those -Bastards!"
"Don't let May hear you speak like that, Tobes." A voice croaked from the wall.
Peter remerged from total blackness just as Wade was blaming himself.
Waking up a second time, he was pleasantly surprised that his senses were much better this time around. The dim light no longer seared his eyes, and his eardrums didn't throb in time to every noise made. His healing factor was quickly taking care of his head wound too, and his headache was practically none existent. He was surprised at his oldest brothers language, the usually well mannered and polite man refused to use vulgar language, being too 'distinguished' for such things, and couldn't help himself.
"Don't let May hear you speak like that, Tobes," he croaked, wincing at the crack in his voice. He had the immediate attention of everyone else in the room, however, and was rewarded by gasps of relief.
"Oh Peter, thank God! You've been asleep for ages!"
"Are you okay? You gave us a massive sca- Peter Parker don't you DARE move!"
Peter ignoring Andrew, pushed himself up with ease to sit properly, legs crossed (as well as he could, with the cuffs), with his arms folded in his lap. Andrew gaped at him, before glaring.
"Peter don't suddenly move like that! You have a head injury idiot it could hurt you!"
"Andy I'm fine! Promise! I'm much better than I was earlier, I don't even have a headache anymore a-and the blood's dried!" Oops. He saw Tobey and Andrew swallow, concern blossoming in their eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have added that last bit. It WAS true though, within the next hour or two it would be gone. Less if he got some food. Testing his luck, Peter tried to yank at his cuffs. His had a different design to the others, more blocky, with a sliver of black going up each side. He'd bet his last dollar that- Yup! Vibranium. He was clearly looking at someone from the big leagues, someone with resources, with power, with connections, because Vibranium was hard to come by, especially since it is made into things like cuffs and chains and weapons in Wakanda, and they didn't just give them out to ANYBODY. He would have to check with Mr Stark when he got back, and ask to speak with Mr Black Panther. That wasn't his main priority right now, though.
Wade wasn't looking at him.
As a matter of fact he seemed to find the floor very interesting. There was nothing there. Not even a speck of dust. Just a cold, hard grey. It sucked the warmth out of Peters body, and he was so glad he layered up.
"Wade?" He ventured, cautiously. He didn't want to set the man off if he wasn't in the talking mood.
Nothing but a huff.
"Wade look at me."
He didn't. Couldn't.
"Wade, please." He asked, pouring extra softness into his voice, knowing how to wrap the mercenary around his little finger with ease. A trick he'd perfected with all his brothers. Being the youngest had it's advantages. True to his theory, Wade listened, slowly lifting up his head with a face looking like he kicked a puppy. No, not just kicked, booted down the stairs so hard it reached maximum velocity and smashed through a brick wall. Peter felt his own guilt rise at that look. It was Peters fault they were all here, obvious, from that little conversation he'd had with his kidnapper earlier on, before he was knocked out cold. Who even was that guy? A new mutant? Peter didn't know yet, but vowed to find out soon.
"Wade it's not your fault."
The man laughed without humour, his brothers shaking his head in sympathy. Peter was too young to understand. False words and reassurances weren't going to do anyone any good. Not while they were stuck in this cell.
"Kid, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. I'm the only one in this room that's pissed powerful people off, doing what I do. This ones on me." He seemed to accept his fate, and his restrained hands itched to hold his husbands. But would Andrew still love him after this? After putting his family in danger?
"Wade. I'm telling you i-it's not you." Peter stated, staring into the elders eyes, daring him to answer back.
"Peter-" Wade scoffed, clearly stressed and edging towards the end of his rope. The other two, knowing Wades moods, started to shift in discomfort.
"Peter maybe you should stop-"
"Yeah Pete, just drop it-"
"I WONT!" Peter snapped, startling the men of the room. He was stressed too, reminding himself and the others that yes he did have anxiety, and indeed his anxiety was going through the roof. They were in danger because of him. It wasn't Wades fault, it was Peters. Because he just had to go out and play hero, and didn't tie up loose ends. It was Peters enemies looking for revenge, looking to hurt, not Wades. He couldn't bare the thought of Wade handling that burden, thinking it's his fault. Thinking that HE was the one to get everyone kil- no. No it wasn't going to come to that. Secret identity be damned, nothing was going to hurt his brothers. While it made him shiver thinking about it, if he had to reveal himself to save his brothers, it wouldn't even be a choice.
"I WONT drop it because it wasn't your fault, Wade! They're not here for you! So just- just be quiet and stop with the pity party, okay!? You did nothing wrong!"
Peter knew he revealed too much when Wades eyes became shifty, when Andrews brow furrowed, when Tobey's eyes stared forward in the way they knew he was thinking about something, when Peter himself needed to brace because he knew he was screwed.
Wade looked up slowly, and Peter could see him putting two and two together, breathing heavily and looking at his face in such disbelief that Peter felt weak in the knees.
"He's here for you." He breathed, and the metal door at the far end of the room opened with a screech.
The man who grabbed Peter walked in, flanked with three guards, one gun trained on Wade, Andrew and Tobey.
He smiled, with crooked teeth and black little pig eyes.
"It's nice that you've gotten the chance to chat. But let's get down to business, shall we?"