Becoming Spider-Man // Son of Stark 1

Chapter 16

Peter tried to cry for help but his screams were muffled by Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier's, metal arm. He could barely breathe. Every step he was forced to take caused a burning pain to shoot throughout his chest. They walked down so many corridors, which all had the same grey walls and white lights, that Peter was beginning to think that Bucky was making him trek through an entire labyrinth just to get to this 'room'. To be honest, he was impressed that his lungs hadn't burst by the time they reached the Dark Room.

The Dark Room wasn't just a room with an ominous adjective describing it... It was a room that made Peter's hairs stand on edge: and if it wasn't for the Soldier's firm grasp on him, he would have legged it by now. The room itself was dark, yet it wasn't empty, either. Instead of being a plain, old, dark abyss it just had to be filled with things that almost completely resembled torture devices. Actually, Peter was pretty sure they were torture devices.

"Sit down," the Soldier ordered Peter, his voice stern in a tone that made Peter freeze in fear. "I said: sit down!" the Soldier repeated, shoving the boy through the darkness, causing Peter's knees to buckle at the impact between his legs and the metal seat.

Reluctantly, he sat down on the chair, knowing already that he would never be the winner of a fight between the two of them; the Winter Soldier was far too strong. And anyway, even if he could match the man's strength it was unlikely that he'd be the only line of defence between Peter and the door.

The Soldier lifted up Peter's right arm before hitting it down against the armrest. Then he pressed a button, which made a metal restraint wrap around the boy's arm. He did the same for the teen's other arm. The cuffs were tight around Peter's arms - not tight enough to be painful but enough to be extremely uncomfortable. Screw that; the metal digging into his skin was very painful.

Peter struggled against the restraints, letting a few tears slip down his face. But it didn't last for long... The Soldier was quick to forcefully push the boy's head back into the metal, holding it back as parts of the machine began to clasp around it. "Bucky I-" Peter pleaded, his words cut off by a rubber mouthguard that was shoved into his mouth.

The teen watched in horror as the man's metal hand landed upon a control panel. He tried to scream no, to tell Bu- the Soldier to stop but he couldn't. No sound came out. He was well and truly done for.

The next few minutes of his life lasted an eternity. His mind was burning, sweat was trickling down his pale face. Peter clung to every happy memory he could: his Pops teaching him how to ride a bike, his Dad and him playing with Dum-E, Clint and him having a prank war, Bruce teaching him about gamma radiation... He thought about all of it. Anything to block out the electricity that was burning through his body.

It still hurt, though. Even Spider-Man wasn't strong enough to dismiss pain. Yet, Peter knew this wouldn't break him - at least, it wouldn't break him for now.

His ears were still ringing, when the Soldier hauled him out of the chair - minutes after the machine had been switched off. He had stood back and stared at Peter, as if admiring his handiwork, before removing the mouthpiece and dragging the boy to his feet.

Peter began to open his mouth to make a quip - a trait of Tony's that had rubbed off on him, but shut it almost instantly. There was no point going through pain like that again... none at all. He felt the cold, metal hand grasp his pyjama tee's collar, and closed his eyes. He was shivering, shuddering and shaking: his teeth chattering as he held his breath, waiting for whatever would come next. "Move it," spat Bucky, kicking the back of Peter's shins.

* * *

"Tony?" Steve asked, his voice cold. "Why are you phoning me?"

"My kid promised that he'd call me," Tony said pointedly. "You got a problem, Rogers?"

"None at all, Tony. I'll call Peter and Bucky, see what's wrong," Steve said smoothly, refusing to be aggravated by the matter.

Putting Tony on hold, Steve swiftly clicked onto Bucky's phone number. He waited for the dialling tone to end but it didn't. Instead he was left with the generic voicemail.

"Steve? What did they say?"

"I didn't get a response... straight to voicemail."

"I'm cutting the Expo short, I'm coming round yours by tomorrow midday. You got that, Cap?"

"I am working under Fury's orders, right now, but I'm sure he'd understand."

* * *

Peter let go a sigh of relief, when he was thrown into a small room. Sure, it wasn't much - just a two by two cell, with unnaturally white walls and lights that burnt his eyes, but it was better than his previous accommodations.

There was a bed in the corner of the room, if you could call it a bed. It was more of a cot - a thin mattress secured to a metal frame, with only a sheet on top. A white sheet. In a pile, on the bed, were some clean clothes: a white polyester shirt, and some white, sports pants. However, there were no socks or shoes, and Peter soon realised that the ones he had worn before had been stripped from him.

He picked up the shirt, realising that they were going to want him to change - and that if he didn't, they wouldn't hesitate to force him. There were definitely cameras in the room, Peter knew that, and he was slightly embarrassed to get undressed in front of people (even if he couldn't actually see them). After all, he was a teenager. But the clothes were so soft compared to the sweaty, dirty and torn he was currently adorned in, so he decided to get it over and done with.

Now dressed and even more tired, Peter lay down on the bed: unable to sleep because of the harsh light glaring down at him. They - Hydra - were doing this for one of two reasons... a) they wanted him to suffer, or b) they were trying to make him sleep only when they wanted him to. As if on cue, the light switched off - submerging him in the

d a r k n e s s

They were trying to do something to him... but Peter wasn't quite sure what.