Underoos

Avengers Tower:

They all sat anxiously, squashed together on the dusty grey couch staring at the large screen attached to the wall in front of them. The sofa, normally, could only fit four to six people but somehow all of them had managed to squeeze into the small piece of furniture. All wanted a good look at the screen, wanting to know what was going on.

Natasha sat slumped up against the headrest with a concentrated expression while Clint lent against her in a rather muddled position. Bucky and Steve were perched at the other end with their hands neatly entwined. Both looked at the large screen with sorrow and worried emotions. Sam lied back, between an alert Bruce and a scared Wanda. Vision had his robotic arm protectively wrapped around Wanda. Pietro sat on the floor while his head rested on Wanda's knees. Tony sat upright in the centre of the couch. His eyes stayed completely focused on the screen. His mouth was stretched into a deep frown, his eyebrows knitted together in worry. Rhodey was the only one not on the compacted, grey couch. He stood upright with a controller in his hands and a sad look on his face as he gazed down on the usually bubbly Avengers, now scared and worried for their friend. 

Usually, they would all laugh at how their seating positions were so ridiculous and probably knock Clint of the couch for the fun of it. However, the dread settled in their stomach and the worry shown on their face was enough to tell any stranger that they all were in sorrow. 

Peter had now been missing for a total of four days. No sign of him and no clues could be found on where the superhero teen maybe. Sam, Bucky, Bruce and Clint were four days without seeing one of their best friends. Wanda and Pietro had no news of their sibling. Natasha did not know where her SpiderBoy was. Steve had been without a friend and son for four days. Tony had lost his only child.

The teams focus point had only been Peter's whereabouts from the moment Spider Man's suit was disconnected, a whole 96 hours. Search missions would go on throughout day and night. Each would take shifts so they could cover as much land as possible. Tony had not been out of the lab, constantly searching up any information that could be of some use. The middle-aged superhero had dark bags under his arms and the wrinkles in his forehead were more prominent than ever. His usually neat and pristine beard had become thicker and the sculpted shape was no longer present. His food was bought to the lab by his friends and sleep was not an option for him at the moment.

Despite their frantic efforts, no clues had been recognized and they had no further evidence of where Peter Parker was. Anything that linked Peter to the world, social media, calls, texts, were all non-existent. It felt like the teenager had been sucked into the ground, disappearing without the slightest trace. 

It wasn't until this morning did Tony receive a tiny spark of hope. A message came through on Tony's phone at exactly 8 am. He was in the middle of searching through recent attacks and kidnappings hoping that a familiar face or common pattern would show up. The sudden alert on his phone bought him out of his search. Tony Stark's phone number was one of the very little things that he kept private from the public and this was no one from his contact. He quickly spun around in his black wheely chair and grabbed up the phone glaring at it desperately.

 It was a simple message with no words just a black screen that opened up to a video. There was no contact information and no caller ID. For him, the unknown was a sick person that crushed his every movement. He had gone too long without answers. He hoped that the video would not be as ominous as the information he had recalled so far.

The desperate hopes of gaining some knowledge on the young superhero was the sole reason why everyone was now sat down at the couch glaring at the television screen.

Rhodey was the first one to have the bravery to pick up the TV control so he could play the video. He stroked his fingers softly over the keys pausing on the bright green button. He pressed his finger down automatically turning on the video.

Everyone's breath hitched in their throat as the once dull, black screen now illuminate, lighting up the room. No one moved. All eyes were concentrated on the screen. The excitement of receiving a clue was great news but this video was to easy to be a clue. It was more like an offering. An offering of knowledge, fear or happiness... no one knew which one?

-------------------------------------------------- (2 HOURS EARLIER)

Hydra Base:

The camera was stood up on a tripod just in front of one of the many guards. Unlike one of Mr Stark's high tech cameras, this one was simple with little buttons and no intricate details. The lens was angled so it directly faced Peter. Very little was captured in the screen; only a weak teenage boy strapped down on a metal bed. The rest of the furniture had been previously pushed back so it surrounded the edges of the room locking the boy inside with a second barrier. 

Peter did not move one bit despite the commotion of movement that was occurring in his personal jail. Guards were dotted around in a precise pattern. He soon learnt that if he squirmed or moved one of his limbs in any way one of the guards would hurry forward. This had happened on numerous occasions each instant scaring Peter even more. His heart would drop and bile rose in his throat every time one of their revolvers pointed towards him. He didn't like that feeling, and he didn't want to feel it again. So he learnt not to move.

Instead, Peter would busy himself by going through every option he had of escape. Some were more ludicrous and would end in possible death. Others, the more exciting ones, would be where the Avengers would burst through the wall each with deadly weapons. They would all knock each guard down in the most painful way possible. Mr Stark in his Iron Man suit would fly in taking down Dr Yahontov. He would then go off and collect Aunt May while the others manage to pry of Peter's leather straps. Together they would all escape from Hydra's terrifying grips and he could come back to his family. No more pain. It was either that or Han Solo and Chewbacca come by in the Millenium Falcon and bust Peter out while Luke made sure Dr Yahontov would never be seen again. He would then teach Peter how to become a Jedi... But that's another story, one that kept Peter fully entertained.

There were the more sensible solutions. For example, with Spider Man's super-strength he could tear away the leather straps that were keeping him in place. Bundle up all his energy and fight of the guards in a tremendous pattern of kicks and punches. With one final satisfactory kickass move he would knock down Dr Yahontov into an unconscious mess on the floor. He would run far away from his jail and collect May in a rush. In five minutes he and May would be running away from the horror that he had been enclosed in. 

However, this plan seemed as impossible as the rest. Every hour, on the dot, someone would come in with a syringe. The plastic medical instrument would always hold the same translucent, thick, blue drug. Each time the plastic syringe would be mounted onto his skin wavering there for a second before punching through Peter's skin like a virus penetrating a host cell.

It made him weak, stripping him of all his power. It resembled anaesthesia yet sleep never came only the drowsiness and weakness. Peter wanted sleep to come. He could gain energy that way and a chance to get away from the room that was imprisoning him. there was no way that with this particular drug could the teenager ever gain the energy or the strength to even break him out from his restraints, yet alone fight off the experienced guards.

A shadow fell just across Peter's bed: the shadow of a man. Dr Yahontov. The sudden appearance of a terrifyingly familiar face bought the young superhero out of his thoughts. Slowly he picked up his head so he could see what was in store for him today. To the kid's surprise, the doctor was not the only familiar person that entered the room. Trailing behind him was a fragile Aunt May.

The middle-aged woman's hair tumbled just below her shoulders in messy locks and her head was bent down. She wore the same greyish hospital gown that Peter had seen her in before, yet the grey had become darker and it hung loosely around her small body. Two thin legs stuck out from just below the dull gown with two bare feet at the end. Her arms stayed close by her side and her eyes were focused on the ground. They did not look up once to analyse the room or notice any company. Peter's eyes trailed across the room trying to follow his Aunt out of curiosity, worry and shock.

Aunt May ignored the following eyes as she made her way across the room feebly. Dr Yahontov strode in front of her, his back straight and nose in the air. The doctor did not bother to cast his deep brown eyes on the weak teenage boy that lay in the middle of the room. He walked past the bed with May behind, stopping at the camera. He stood just behind the tripod towering over May who was hiding behind him. She acted as if he was her shield, her protector. This made no sense to Peter after seeing Dr Yahontov painfully electrocute her the other day. None of this made sense.

'Hmmm", the doctor grunted from behind the camera in satisfaction. He looked like he was about to take a photo of his child on their first day at school. Acting like a proud father he made the final adjustments to the simple camera before stepping out of the screen. 

"May", Peter exclaimed clearly, wanting to grab May's attention. She ignored, the ground seems more interesting than the 'son' she use to care for. 

"May!" Peter tried again louder. Her eyes stayed focused on the ground. It was if her body blocked out his voice, his face, everything about him. It irritated the boy that the only person who had ever meant something to him in this room was now shutting him out like a closed door. 

"May! May!" The teen screamed louder and louder. He was getting impatient. He wanted to be heard. He wanted her to look at him. At what she was part of. What they had done to him.

"Look at me, May!" He shouted for the final time brining the guards into action. They all stepped forward menacingly closing Peter inside a smaller circle of people.

"May, please", he seethed with aggravation. 

A guard to the side of him quickly moved into action whipping out his large revolver. In a few seconds, the lethal weapon pointed at his face demanding silence. Peter gulped. The urge to shout and scream subsided as another guard copied the alarming action. 

"Ahhh... I see that has shut you up, Спайдер", Dr Yahontov commented, "you should do that more often!" He remarked with a loathsome chuckle after seeing the frightened boy's facial features.

Silence settled around the room as Dr Yahontov looked into the camera, inspecting the screen.

"Right. Let's get started", the doctor announced with a malicious smile. Peter swore he saw the man's eyes light up with sickening joy as he pressed a jungle green coloured button on the side of the camera.

The machine beeped in response to the button being pushed and a bright red light started to flash top right of the camera. It started to record.

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I feel so guilty that I haven't posted in a while but posts will start to become more organised now!

The next chapter will be about the recording and the reaction from the Avengers. 

Hope you guys liked this chapter, love you all 3000 <3

- Ophelia