Peter Parker Whump/Irondad :)

15. "It's ok, I'm ok." (Part 2)

  They both sat in silence, barely any light shining through the small window, indicating the sun had already gone down. The only sounds heard were the muffled chirps of crickets and car engines turning on every few minutes.

Peter slumped in his chair, his neck and back muscles starting to ache. He could see quite clearly in the dark, but he knew Harley was sitting there, staring at the darkness consuming the other side of the room.

"You ok?" He croaked out, turning to look at the blond. Harley slowly turned to face Peter, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"Am I ok? Pete, I should be the one asking you that."

Peter sighed, of course, Harley was going to turn his attention on the kid who had superpowers and super healing.

"I can heal," Peter finally replied. "You can't- or at least not as fast."

"But look at you! You're so selfless it's annoying sometimes, Parker," Harley scolded him. "I got a total of four punches -five, counting the last one, but you? God knows how many times you got punched, Pete, you were about to pass out!"

Peter shrunk further into the metal. He was right, Peter had gotten it worse, but it still didn't mean Harley's clear injuries were anything less.

Right as he opened his mouth to reply, the door swung open, and Andrew waltzed in, guards behind him, and camera in hand.

"Oh, goodie! You two are awake!" He said as he set the camera down on its stand. He pressed a button and the small red light started blinking.

"Stark! Are you glad to see me?" He started as he backed away to stand between both boys. Out of a pocket in his suit, he took out a large needle.

"What's this, you ask? Oh, it's just a little something for this young boy," he said, waving it in front of Peter's pale face. Harley pulled at his restraints, hoping to suddenly have the strength to break the ropes and take Andrew and the guards down.

"Don't fucking touch him, I swear to God," He spat out, watching as the man summoned the guards to his side. "Get away from him," he continued.

"Shut him up," Andrew ordered, the usual playfulness in his voice long gone. One of the guards turned to him and easily tied a cloth around Harley's mouth, ignoring his muffled curses and threats.

Two of the men grabbed Peter and pressed him down against the chair. He feared they would break either one of his bones or the chair if they squeezed any harder.

"Let me explain, Mr. Parker," Andrew said, his voice back to normal. "I'm going to take some of your blood, a lot of it. I don't know how much blood you can lose before passing out, but I don't care. Anyway, to do so, we need to change your position, and we can't have you escaping."

Peter struggled as Andrew took off his painful and heavy handcuffs and tied his wrists on the chair's armrests. His hands were tied with a thick and lightweight rope, a relief for Peter's aching wrists.

"And don't try to get out of this, boy. This is plasma rope, one of the strongest ropes in the world," Andrew explained as he rubbed alcohol over Peter's forearm.

As Harley pulled and tried to get the cloth out of his mouth, Andrew poked the needle in. Peter winced and tried to shake it off, but it only made it hurt worse, so he stopped. He watched as his blood slowly filled the large, clear capsule.

After what felt like hours, Andrew took the needle out and inspected it with a wide grin. One of the guards removed the cloth from Harley's mouth, and all three walked out.

*

  Andrew continued his "experiments" for the rest of the day. Coming in before and after their small meals and one last time before the sun started setting. The last few times, both boys had stopped fighting it, Peter feeling too weak and Harley knowing there was nothing he could do. They had been so quiet and still, in fact, that Andrew moved Harley's chair right next to Peter's, and untied his hands and Peter's feet.

"There you go," Andrew said bluntly as he walked out and slammed the door behind him. Peter's head was down and his hair covered his deathly pale face. His left forearm was covered in small holes from where the needle had punctured it, and tiny drops of blood seeped out. His breaths were labored and a small wheeze came with every exhale.

Harley quickly leaned over to him and wrapped his arms around Peter's small frame. Peter rested his head on Harley's shoulder and melted in his embrace, not realizing how much he had missed human touch -other than the tight grasps of Andrew and the guards. He pulled his feet up to his chest and leaned further onto Harley. His eyes slowly shut and he quickly fell asleep.

Harley knew exactly what was going on. The fatigue, the difficulty breathing, the drain of color from his face; all were signs of blood loss. He didn't know how much more blood Peter could lose but it certainly wasn't much more. He did have powers, but he still needed blood to survive.

*

Peter woke up the next morning, his head on Harley's shoulder, and his legs in an awkward position. As his eyes remained closed, he felt a pair of strong hands untie his wrists from the armrest and pull him to his feet. His eyes snapped open before collapsing onto his knees. His tiredness and the fact that he had been sitting down for 48 hours straight didn't help.

Harley had noticed by now and was trying to ask the man what he was doing, only to be ignored. the man, which both now recognized as one of Andrew's guards, grabbed Peter by the arms and hauled him to his feet.

Peter knew what was going to happen, so with his remaining strength, he threw a hard punch to the man's jaw, who immediately went unconscious. Peter sighed and turned to Harley before untying his feet.

*

Harley stood over the unconscious guards, panting. He rubbed the blood dripping from his nose with his sleeve and turned to Peter, who was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. He kneeled down to him and grabbed his hand softly.

"Let's get out of here."