Not Gone But Forgotten || Peter Parker

Chapter Four

Peter wakes up to chaos.

He sits up instantly, physically shaking as his Spider-Sense tells him to fight, run, do something.

He searches around the cell and is not shocked to find that he was alone. For a brief moment, he wonders if Tony had been nothing but a dream.

The sound of screaming distracts him, and the hairs on his arm stand straight up. He feels as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water on top of his head, yet he ignores the trembles in his body as he makes his way to the cell doors. He grabs onto the railing, almost crushing the metal as he does so.

It would be so easy to break out of the cell, all he would have to do is pull at the lock and he could escape with Tony by his side.

Not for the first time, the temptation is overbearing as he feels his chest begin to tighten. His Spider-Sense taunts at him, being a constant reminder that something bad was happening and he was doing nothing to fix it.

But Tony had made it abundantly clear that he did not want Peter to use his powers. He said it was too dangerous, and even if they did break out there were too many guards to make it out alive.

There's another scream that rings in his ears, somehow louder than before, and suddenly Peter feels sick.

He turns and falls to his knees with a loud thud, barely having time to catch himself as he begins to dry heave.

For the first time, he's thankful that he doesn't have any real food in his stomach, not wanting to deal with the mess. Still, the lack of nutrients makes him feel weak, and he loses all energy as he lays on the cold, hard floor.

From head to toe, everything hurts. He simultaneously feels hot and cold, light and heavy. Yet at the same time, his sixth sense begs at him to get up.

This couldn't be his Spider-Sense warning him of danger, it was something worse.

It takes him a couple of attempts to stand on his two feet. The cell continues to spin around him and he extends his hand forward, trying to grab onto something before he sinks back down.

Eventually, he gives in. He lets the ground swallow him whole as he tries to gain control of his breathing. The screaming doesn't stop, and he thinks he joins in at one point.

But then, right when he thinks he's about to pass out, everything stops.

No more pain, no more noise rather than the sound of Peter's gasps for air.

He lets out a cry of relief, and it takes him a minute to register the argument from the other side of the door.

"Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do now."

"Relax, we'll try again tomorrow. Give him some time to recoup."

"I don't know Jack, he doesn't look too good."

"And whose fault is that?"

"You were the one who-"

"Take him back to the cell, you two are wasting my time keeping him here."

Peter recognized the last voice. It was the woman who he'd recently learned was named Annabelle after eavesdropping on their conversations.

Heavy footsteps approach the cell, and Peter is quick to comb the sweat-damp hair away from his forehead, attempting to look somewhat put together in the hopes that it will keep his dignity alive. Apparently it doesn't work, because the moment the door slams open the two guards stare down at him with distaste.

"Damn son, who rained on your parade?"

Peter doesn't answer, instead he examines the lifeless body hanging in their arms and tries not to break down in the process. Tony's head is tilted forward so he can't see the condition of his face, but the rest of his body appears worse for wear, with burns and bruises littered across his chest.

"What did you do?" Peter hates the way his voice shakes, but not as much as he hates how they laugh in his face.

"He'll be fine, give it a day or two and he'll be back to talking our ears off."

They move to open the cell door and don't waste a second as they throw his body forward. Peter is quick to catch Tony before his head can hit the ground, and the first thing he notices is how hot Tony's skin feels against his own. The observation does nothing to calm Peter's nerves.

He doesn't want to look at Tony's face because he knows that was where most of the damage was going to reveal itself. Still, he owes the man at least that much after everything. Peter tries to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to witness, but not even his worst nightmares could contour the image in front of him.

A combination of crimson red and charcoal black covers the majority of his forehead, making it painfully obvious where the machines were attached. The electrical burns go deep into his skin and appear non-treatable in the fluorescent lights. It hurts just looking at it.

Peter tries to be gentle when he lays Tony down, doing everything he can to not think about how this could have happened. He turns back to face the guards, maybe beg for their help, but he finds himself alone yet again.

A new wave of hopelessness washes the anger out of Peter, and he bites his lip to prevent the sobs from escaping.

But Peter couldn't afford to break down yet. With stubbornness in the forefront of his mind, he pulls himself together as best as he can before making his way towards Tony, starting his far too familiar routine. He moves Tony's head so it's resting on his lap, and begins to count the beats per minute.