Dumpsters = Coffins

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   Painful moments reminisced through Peter's head, him not knowing where he was or who he's with. His vision came in and out through his interrogation and torture, his brain not analyzing what was going on during any of it. The last he knew he was in a chair being smacked by a steel metal bar, blood seeping it's way through his torn up suit. His body was still in shock so the agonizing pain hasn't caught up to him, yet that didn't stop the screams from erupting after every blow. All he could see was black, but his ears could make out small mumbles under the deafening ringing that only he could hear. A few key words pointed themselves out during their conversations, "Tonight", "He won't be a hassle" and "What about just killin' him?" made him become attentive, which the others grew aware of. Another quick blow to the shins made Peter yelp, his head instantly becoming dizzy and fading out of reality. He felt hands slip around him, roughly gripping his broken, fragile body and picking it up like it was nothing. A familiar cloth of his ripped apart mask was placed over his head, making his temporarily lost eyesight utterly gone. Peter's breaths were sharp and provided pain every inhale, swagger coaxed the mans walk, the exaggerated pressure against the boys fragile bones only furthering his pain. Their little field trip only lasted a minute, abruptly stopping when the boy didn't feel meaty hands on him, and instead air flying through his suit and coating his skin. The mini flight came to an end with a thud and the sounds of bags moving under his weight. An immediate stench rose, the aroma making it's way into Peter's nose, his eyes watering from the burning sensation. Blood lost only intensified, his lack for it becoming noticeable in his shutting down brain. He could hear the ocean from the far, it's usual peaceful sounds seeming more hostile tonight. Peter felt totally lost, any hope in his broken body vanished. No one knew where he was and it would stay that way until someone walked by, or took out the trash with his already deceased body in it. Nothing would stop his death. Nothing.

   His eyelids started slowly falling, knowing he was coming closer to the end with every bat of an eye he took. The ocean took over his mind, the active sound making it the easiest way to let go. He only had one more thing to do before total defeat.     

                                                                                           "I love you Tony" 

                                                                                                                   He said before he fell numb.

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    Most of the team was looking for Peter, panic pumping adrenaline through their tired veins. They all blindly went out into the town, no clue on where he could be. Strange stayed back, trying to find the lab, as he forgot to ask for directions. Once he finally stumbled upon it, he became intrigued, seeing gadgets and gizmos laid throughout the entire room, some Tony's and some Bruce's. Strange continued looking, side tracked from his mission. He eventually did find the computer, but some file was already pulled up. It had a play button overlaying the image, intriguing the wizard further. He had no choice, but to press the digital button, watching sound erase the previous silence, and a video play. It had a beautiful New York view, some part of town he didn't remember. Over it, you could hear someone talk, mostly babble to themselves, but it still caught Strange's attention, making him instantly recognizing that it was Peter on a innocent nightly route. He paused the video, now looking through the computer for his original desire. Tony hadn't told him how, or where to get the GPS in the kid's suit, so he was just going to have to guess. He looked through some different tabs, all labeled random things like "Random Shit", "Random Shit 467" and "The Wicked Witch Of The West", the last turning out to be an illegal download of The Wizard of Oz. Finally he found the correct file that held all of Peter's suits data. He scrolled through all the useless information until he found a map, it had a red dot pulsating, which hopefully meant Peter was there. Strange scrolled the area around the boy, trying to get memory of where he was, when a pop up came across the screen. 

   "Karen has been disabled?" He read aloud, the notification came from almost an hour ago. He snapped out of his confusion as to who "Karen" was, to become focused on the destination. His hands did motions to summon a portal, which he quickly stepped through, the fresh cold air blowing through his cape. He looked around, a few sketchy looking buildings placed on a lonely street, the sound of water moving was to the left of him. No human movement seemed to be near, meaning Peter was probably inside one of these buildings. Strange looked to the street signs, trying to remember what area the teen went. It all clicked together and he made his way to a big brick wall, it's rust and chippings making it look ancient and ready to fall at any second. He looked around for a door, which ended up to be locked anyways. He heard some aggravated yells from the other side of the building, most likely out of a broken window. He swiftly made his way over, coming to the back of building, this side had peeling navy blue paint, with vines coating the wall. Seeing a dumpster under the shattered window, he decided to use it to get his way up, to be unnoticed to the commotion. He placed a firm grip on the side of the trash, heaving himself up, then standing on the thin bin. He looked around, to see if anyone had seen him, which no one was still around, until he looked into the can itself.

   Instantly mortified he jumped into the stench, not caring for the rubbish touching his pristine skin. There laying in the bin was a teen, one dressed as a noble super hero. One that made Strange's heart jump out of his chest and cling onto the lifeless boy in front of him. Not caring about the voices erupting from the building anymore, he grabbed Peter, making the quickest portal possible and taking him back to the compound, not quite sure where to put him. He rounded up the search comity, filling them in, and telling them to come back. Everyone was either going insane or panicking. No one knew how to help, Bruce was almost an hour away helping Tony, so their beloved doctor wasn't around. Natasha was brain storming ideas when something did pop up.

   "Strange, you were a doctor, right?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

   "Emphasize the were, but yes"

   "I know you stopped and all, but the boy needs you, you have to do something" 

   "What? I haven't done that stuff in ages, I would only end up hurting the boy" He grimly responded.

   "Oh come on, look at him, he clearly doesn't have much time left, if any time at all, and how would Tony feel if he knew you just left his son out to die" She was smug, knowing she had won.

   "Wait, son?" He asked, the first time hearing the news.

   "No one told you?"

   "Irrelevant, anyways, still, I don't even know how to help. And what about my hands?" He pleaded, though, knowing this was the last option.

   "Try to steady them, they won't be perfect, but it's better than to leave him be,and  could you at least just try?" She sounded genuinely desperate. After a few moments of debating he lowly answered, grimacing at the old memories that sprung up.

   "...fine"




   My mom starter reading this chapter over my shoulder, and I've never been more mortified.


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