(Leather Bound Wrists) - Keep You Safe & Warm
Peter had been given a break, for what he guessed to be a night. Every ounce of his energy had been drained when he was bound back in the room. Morgan had immediately come up to him, cuddling into his uninjured side. Knives had brought in two plates. Both held ham sandwiches and a potato. He also brought in two fairly large glasses of water and another blanket. Peter had never been more grateful for supplies in his life.
They had, thankfully, decided to leave the gag off him for tonight. Peter could feel where it had been rubbing his chin and the back of his head raw. He was bound by his wrists, but it left enough room for him to lay down and eat comfortably.
He and Morgan dug into the food, and Peter found it gone before he could believe. It had been portion sizes fit for a girl Morgan’s size, not a genetically mutated Spider with a metabolism to out-do Steve Rogers’. But it was better than nothing, and Peter wouldn’t be caught dead complaining.
As the two of them ate Peter took inventory. Morgan was still unharmed. Her arm and forehead held a few bruises, but she wasn’t bleeding or sick. She was dirty, and her dark brown curls could definitely use a wash, but she was unharmed. She had been getting fed twice a day. Hammer didn’t have to worry about Morgan being at full strength like he did Peter. This was the first Peter had eaten since… well since this ordeal had begun. And he felt ravenous.
He himself… well – Peter was worse for the wear. He started at the top of his body and went down. He definitely had a minor concussion. His head never failing to beat with pain and his eyes were incredibly hard to focus. He could feel blood in his hair. His nose was broken, and Peter just knew he had some nasty cuts and bruises scattering his face. His neck was relatively unharmed, sure it was stiff and sore but it wasn’t broken, cut, or bruised. His shoulders and arms weren’t too bad. The cuts from Knives had finally almost cleared themselves up. There were still thin white lines littering his arms, but no longer did he look like he had been on the retrieving end of a tiger’s playtime. His wrists were bruised and rubbed raw, but not broken or bleeding.
Peter’s chest and abdomen… well they were a wreck. He had definitely broken a couple of ribs on his left side, and the rest of his chest was adamantly bruised. Every breath, every shift of a muscle alerted him to the fact that he was hurt. Thankfully, he couldn’t detect any internal bleeding, so that was a plus. For now, his lower body remained the most uninjured. Bruises and scrapes scattered around here and there, and his ankles were rather blistered from the cuffs, but at least nothing was broken.
As far as inventory went, their room was fairly low. The men had blessed Peter and Morgan with a lamp. It lit up the room enough for the two to see one another. If either of them had to use the restroom they were taken to a singular room that locked on the outside. No showers, no mirrors. Just a singular, metal toilet. Peter could of used any of the various objects around the two of them to kill the men. But he didn’t know what Hammer’s reaction time was, and every time the silver bracelet on Morgan’s wrist glinted off the light of the lamp, Peter was reminded of the fact that he would do absolutely nothing to risk her well-being. They had a small, metal cot that the two slept on, a pillow, and now two blankets. Peter had even managed to convince Hammer to bring Morgan crayons and a pack of copy paper. The poor girl was left alone for the vast majority of the long days, and Peter didn’t want her to go insane.
After they finished their meal and had each used the restroom, Peter managed to limp over to the cot. He laid down, folding the pillow under his head as he opened his arm for Morgan. She ducked under the chain that hung from the wall, tucking herself under the blankets and up against Peter’s side. Her head rested on his right shoulder as he snuggled the blankets tightly around them before reaching out and clicking off the lamp.
Peter was resigned to go straight to sleep, thankful for the relatively full stomach and the added warmth, when he heard a quiet sniffle.
“What’s wrong, Mo?” A stupid question, sure. But Morgan had been the strong one. Her every move one of resolve and determination. And she was just now letting her guard down, and Peter sure as Hell was not going to let her cry uncomforted.
“I just- I miss mommy and daddy.” Peter felt tears pricking his own eyes.
“I know. I know, kiddo. I do too. But, Dad is going to be here so soon. He would never leave us here. He’s looking for us right now. I bet he even called the Avengers in.” Morgan perked up at that.
“Really?” She asked, quiet excitement leaking into her voice.
“Oh yeah. Aunt Nat, and Uncle Clint. Bruce, and Uncle Steve. I bet even Uncle Steve’s scary friend. Wanda, and you know what- I just know he called in Thor and T’Challa. He is doing everything in his power to get us back right this second.”
And as Peter told Morgan of all of the things that Tony would do for them, he managed to comfort himself. Tony would, he would be doing every single thing that he could in order to get to Morgan. Peter would not doubt that for a second, he just wishes Tony would still take Peter after Peter got Morgan kidnapped. He would understand even if he didn’t, Peter would understand.
Morgan had drifted off to sleep at some point during Peter’s muttering, and he quickly found himself following suit.