“Chose,” their sickly sweet voice commanded, “Remember Spidey, you can only choose one.”
“Please,” his throat was dry and his eyes wide. He made eye contact with Abbie, and she looked so relaxed. As if now that Peter was here things would be okay. His eyes flicked to his boyfriend, “Please don't make me do this- you can-“
He came to a realization, and he pulled his mask off, stepping towards her, “You can kill me. You can kill me. But don’t- please don’t- touch either of them.”
Both Harley and Abbie spoke against their gags, screaming and shouting words that he couldn’t make out. He didn’t want to die, but he figured if he could chose to save both of them, if he could make her shoot him instead, then both of them would live. He couldn’t make a choice that would require even hurting the Keener kids, let alone killing them.
They pursed their lips, considering it for a second, moving the gun so that it pointed away from the back of Harley’s head, and for a second Peter almost relaxed. Then they brought the butt of the gun down hard on Harley’s head and Peter wanted to cry- because Harley was now bleeding, and he was just sitting there, he wasn’t struggling he was just accepting what was happening and-
“Thats not how this game works. See, thats why this fails whenever other people do it,” They shrugged their soft and kind voice sounding almost excited, “Because they let the hero’s have the gun, and the hero’s ultimately shoot themselves- but Spidey, I don’t want you to die.”
They paused for a second, their hand coming to find the top of Abbie’s head and they pulled roughly on her hair, and she let out a muffle shout of pain as they pressed the barrel to her temple, “But I do need you to choose,” they motioned their elbow to Harley, “The boy,” they pressed the gun harder to Abbie’s temple, “Or the sister?”
“Neither. I chose neither.”
“Then you chose to kill the entirety of New York? And D.C.? And you chose for bombs to go off along the coast of California?”
Peter felt his blood run cold, “What?”
“You heard me.”
“When- when where those things even on the table?!”
“Well,” They shrugged, and both Abbie and Harley looked panicked towards Peter, eyes begging not to let the world be destroyed like that, “Sometimes an author keeps a plot point quiet until the time to reveal it. But I’m curious- what will you choose?”
“I-” He felt like he was choking, he felt like he couldn’t breath, and he stepped towards them, “I can’t- I can’t- you can’t make me do this-”
They tsked, “Spidey, I really expected you to be better than this. And remember, if you step towards us again, I’ll shoot him and then snap her neck.”
He froze, feeling panic enter his veins. He couldn't make this choice. This choice would break him.
He glanced at Harley, meeting his eyes. They were set, and even though his face looked tough, hardened, he could tell. Harley was terrified. Wether the fear of death or the fear of Abbie getting hurt, he was terrified. And for a second Peter couldn’t breath.
How could he kill Harley? Harley, who held him every time he had a nightmare. Who told him he was going to be okay, who told him he was going to be fine. Harley, who made him breakfast in bed just because he could. Harley, who made him smile and laugh even on the worst of days and the worst of memories. How could he kill the one thing in the world he loved more than anything else- but at the same time, his eyes flicked to Abbie, how could he even think of choosing Abbie.
Abbie was just a kid. She was just sixteen years old. She hadn’t even started her junior year yet. She had so much life ahead of her, and even more, Peter didn’t want to kill her. She was the closest thing he ever had to a little sister- she was- she was an innocent.
“I can’t,” he choked out, focusing on the ground, “I can’t chose, please, please, don’t do this.”
He needed to think of a way out of this. He needed to think of a way to contact Mr. Stark, to get out of this. He was Spider-Man for fucks sake- he could save both of them, he could save both of them if he just tried. He wasn’t a fifteen year old kid in a onesie anymore. He was nineteen years old and he could save himself and them. He could save them. He just needed to figure out how.
“You’re taking too long.”
“I’m thinking.”
“I suppose,” Their voiced lithed, a whimsical sigh leaving their lips, “That you’re thinking of a way out. Which is why I feel its necessary to tell you that my men have orders, that if both Keener siblings are to leave here alive, to go through with the plans that will cause the highest number of death seen on American soil since- well, since ever.”
“Fuck- please-” Peter was crying now, as he begged, “I’ll do anything- I’ll do anything- please- please just let them live- let them both live- please-please I can’t- I’ll do anything so long as they both get to live-”
“Times up. Which one do you choose, or I kill them both.”
“No- No, please!”
“Spidey, you need to chose, or I kill them both, and everyone.”
“Please! Please don’t do this! Please!”
“Choose.”
“I can’t-”
“Fucking choose!”
His voice caught in his throat, “I’m sorry- I’m sorry-”
“CHOSE WHO FUCKING LIVES AND WHO FUCKING DIES! GIVE ME A NAME! AND I WILL FUCKING KILL THEM!”
His eyes found Harley’s and he almost couldn’t see him through how hard he was crying. Harley was beautiful, even now, and he felt his gut sink completely, “I’m sorry-”
“FUCKING CHOSE YOU FUCKING LIKE DICKHEAD-”
“I choose-”
He bolted up, tears coming down his face so hot and thick that he couldn’t breath, as he let out a sob- a sound so heart wrenching that he wasn’t sure he even made it. Harley sat up next to him, “Peter?”
“Harley,” He cried out, throwing himself at his boyfriend, “Fuck Harley, I’m- I’m sorry- I’m so so sorry- Please, please forgive me- I’m so so so sorry-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Harley rubbed circles into Peter’s back, kissing his forehead, “Just breath, darling, I’ve got you. I’m here. I’m here.”
“I’m- I’m sorry, god I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
“Hey, honey, you have nothing to be sorry for, okay?”
Peter couldn't respond, just let out another one of his sobs, as Harley continued to rub his back. Harley whispered, “Whatever happened it was just a dream, darling, it was just a dream.”
“It- it felt so real Harley,” he whispered when he could breath again, his lips moving against Harley’s neck, “It felt so real and I- I couldn’t- I couldn’t save either of you.”
“Hey now,” Harley chuckled gently, “You’re Spider-Man, you always save the day.”
This just made Peter cry harder, “I’m so sorry, Harley.”
“Its okay, honey,” Harley shushed, pressing his lips to Peter’s hairline, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“They took you. Both you and Abbie. They took you, and you were both beat to hell and back before I even got there,” He whispered, “And when I got there- when I- when I got there Abbie looked so relieved to see me, as if me being there just meant that you two would be alright but Harley- Harley, oh god, baby, I failed-”
“Hey, darling, it was just a dream. You didn’t fail.”
“But I did,” He pulled away from Harley, sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing his palms into his eyes, “I did fail- they- they said if I didn’t chose they would kill you both and release bombs or something into the most populated cities in america. I- I begged them to shoot me- I begged them to let me die in one of your places- and they- they wouldn’t let me Harley.”
He felt strong arms loop around his chest, and felt Harley’s lips kiss the back of his neck, “And then what happened?”
“I had to chose. I had to chose or they would kill so many people, and I couldn’t find a way out- and I tried- I tried to think- but I couldn’t and god Harley- I’m so- I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. You did the right thing by choosing to kill me, but even then, you have nothing to be sorry for-”
“I didn’t chose to kill you.”
“What?"
“I didn’t chose to kill you,” He whispered into the air, “I chose to kill Abbie. And that's why I’m so fucking sorry because- because-”
He heard Harley swallow thickly. He knew what he must be thinking. He knew Harley. Harley loved Abbie more than anything in the entire world. Abbie was his baby sister, and was for the longest time his number one priority. The very notion that someone would chose to kill her over him probably broke him down in his core.
And to be fair, the entire thing broke Peter down to his core.
He chose to kill Abbie. Sweet, innocent, just turned sixteen Abbie. Bright eyed and bushy tailed with the most kindhearted personality Peter had ever seen. He chose to kill someone he thought of as his little sister. He chose to kill her- just to save Harley. Harley who, in reality, would shun him and avoid him if he ever did something like that.
“If,” Harley started hesitantly, “If there’s ever a situation like that, Peter, I need you to promise me, that you’ll chose to kill me, or better yet- find a way out.”
“That's just the thing Harley,” He turned to his boyfriend, tears flowing down his face, “I can’t promise I won’t make the same choice.”