(Living Nightmare) - Someone Wake Me Up
Peter woke up to so much pain. Stabbing. Sharp. Stinging. His entire body yelling at him to stop. Stop moving or stop breathing, he didn’t care which. He could feel it, an overwhelming ache wrapping itself around the left side of his body.
He let out a deep groan as he peeled his eyes open. He would have been content to lay still on the hard floor until he had fallen back asleep, but he heard a small sniff right next to him. It was just then that Peter realized that he had no clue where he was or who he was with.
He forced himself to look around, his eyes searching for purchase in the dark. It was a process of elimination, as he tried to put the pieces together. He knew he wasn’t with Tony. Tony wouldn’t let him be sore like this, he wouldn’t be on a metal floor and in so much pain.
It wasn’t until he moved his right arm that he realized the real issues. His heart rate spiked. A cold, metal cuff was clamped around his right arm. Peter grunted, reaching back until he found the wall. He winced as the pain in his left side screamed at him for moving. Peter put his feet on the ground and began to push himself back.
He stopped suddenly with a gasp. His entire lower back and side set on fire. White spots fell into his vision, and Peter let his head fall back against the ground. He heard the sniffle again, and he knew that he had been ignoring the most important part of this nightmare.
“Morgan?” His voice was scratchy and low, filled to the brim with every inch of pain he felt. He could hear it now, her racing heart rate and rapid breathing somewhere to his left.
“Petey?” He could hear the tears in her voice, and he had so many more questions. How long had she been alone? Was she hurt? Who were they with?
“Hey, can you come to me, Mo?” He whispered, and he could hear her sliding around. His senses must have just been completely wasted away, because he didn’t realize how close she was to him until one of her limbs hit his ribcage. Peter grunted, and his head went limp against the ground as he waited for the pain to calm down, and the black spots to leave his vision.
‘Petey! Petey!” Morgan’s distraught voice cried as Peter hummed in acknowledgement.
“Yeah-” He muttered breathlessly. “Yeah… I’m okay, just can you walk around my legs and to the other side?” He whispered, still trying to breathe through the pain that was crawling through his veins.
“Ok.” Her voice was quiet, but he could tell that her vitals were falling back into place. He could feel her shuffling, thinking where exactly she wants to step as she walks to his other side. He reaches out his hand, fingers wrapping around Morgan’s arm.
“Come on, I’ve got you right here.” He helped her lay down beside him and curled his arm tightly around her.
“Are you alright, Mo?” He asked, running his arm over her head feeling for any bumps.
“I’m okay. You held me when the car hit us.” She sounded completely fine, though her voice wavered with emotions.
Peter nodded, the crashing of metal and the crunch of glass replaying in his head. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. Has anyone been in here?” He asked, his right hand running through her hair as he tried to fit the puzzle pieces together.
“Two men. They said you won’t be able to break the hand cuffs.” She seemed to think as Peter tried to gain a clear grasp of their surroundings. His eyes had adjusted to the dark now, not that there was much to see. It was a solid, rectangular room. There was a metal cot to the left, with one scruffy blanket and a paper-thin pillow. No windows, one light that wasn’t turned on, and two small air vents in the middle of the ceiling. There was a door, but no handle on the inside. Essentially, they were completely trapped. No exit. No way out.
Peter still felt hot, his head holding the same sickly, cotton feeling it had had earlier. He needed to figure out how badly he was hurt, and why he was getting sick.
“He also said they put something in the air.” She said, sleepily into his side.
“What was that?”
“They were being mean. The big man said that he put something in your backpack that made you feel gross and sleepy, and he put it in the air.” Peter blinked. That made sense, these men obviously knew who he was, and knew that on a normal day they couldn’t over power him. At this point, the effects of whatever drug were just a way to keep Peter from being able to function properly.
“Do you feel sick at all, Mo?” He asked, because if this drug was affecting Morgan, he would go crazy on the men holding them both here.
“No. I’m not hurt. You’re the one that’s sick.” He sighed in relief. This was something specifically designed for him. So that meant two things, they didn’t have it out for Morgan. That’s good. But they knew enough about Peter to make him extremely nervous.
“You’re right. Hey, why don’t you try and get some sleep? I’ll be here when you wake up.” The room wasn’t hot or cold, and that was a small mercy that Peter was reveling in for now. Despite himself, Peter began to feel his mind shutting down. Whether it was the drugs or just the exhaustion from the injuries that had taken a hold of him, but within minutes of feeling Morgan’s breaths even out, his eyes were shut, and he was beginning to follow suit.
___
Peter woke with a start at the bang of the door to their cell being blown open. Light flooded into the room, and Peter winced at the jabbing headache he felt form. He felt his heart pounding as he, despite the screaming pain in his side, forced himself to sit up, pulling Morgan behind his back. She was against him and the wall, her tiny fists gripping his sweatshirt tightly. He kept his left hand behind his back on her shoulder.
Three men walked in, and Peter automatically began to size them up. Two guys on either side of the boss. Both extraordinarily large, and gruff looking. Then the obvious leader… well Peter knew who he was immediately. And his blood ran cold.
“Justin Hammer…” He whispered. Hammer, long and spindly – he looked like a sewer rat had been formed into a person. He had the look of a psychopath and Peter knew enough about his and Tony’s history to be scared of the outcome if Tony couldn’t find them quickly.
“Ah, the kid knows- you know my name.” Hammer walked up to Peter, leaning down in front of the pained boy’s face.
“Whatever you want, you can let Morgan go. You’ve got me, you don’t need her.” Hammer tilted his head, seeming to be contemplating what Peter had said.
“Right, yeah. I mean, honestly, Mr. Parker- I’m not one to normally care much about kids, but I need Tony. Tony cares most about his two kids. I could have just taken little miss Stark, sure. But I also wanted to get a little look at Spider-Man. And, if I want spider-man, I need a good reason for him not to ditch me the first second he gets. To be fair, I think the specialized drugs that we put into the AC are doing their job. You look awful.” Peter just furrowed his brows, heart racing at the idea of this man knowing who he was.
“Just, don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything you want – just don’t touch her.” He said, his voice pleading, and he didn’t care if he sounded desperate. He was so utterly desperate it wasn’t even funny.
“As long as you do what I ask, I promise the little princess remains unharmed.” And Peter released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Okay- I swear.” Hammer just nodding along, as though he understood everything.
“Okay, well – we are going to have to take you out and rough you up a bit. We have to send a threat to daddy Stark, and unless you look a little worse than you already do – well, I’m just afraid he may not believe us.”
Peter took a deep breath, readying himself for the nightmares that were surely awaiting him.