Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any Marvel character.
Warning: Blood, Swearing, Building Collapses, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks, and a very protective Tony Stark.
It happened again.
Of course, it would happen again. It was just the infamous ‘Parker-Luck’ he had had all throughout his life. Parents dead, Skip, bullying, his Uncle dying (and all the guilt that came with it), along with the mistakes while on patrol as Spider-Man and disappointing Mr. Stark, so nothing really surprised him anymore.
That doesn't mean he didn’t panic when a building collapsed on him for a second time.
He should have expected it, really. The guy he was fighting had been doing a lot of structural damage to the building while they were fighting. Even if he hadn’t noticed it at first. It was when they had both heard the telltale signs of it collapsing that they realized what was happening.
Peter heard a rumbling and cracks started to run down the walls and ceiling. His eyes rapidly scanned the area to find an exit.
“Karen?” His voice shook. “Where’s the fastest way to get out?”
“The fastest exit point is through the small, rectangle window near the top of the wall to your left. However, the foundation of the building is collapsing and if you attempted to leave it could crack and fall directly on top of you, which could be fatal. Even for someone of your healing abilities,” the A.I’s calm voice seemed unfitting in this situation. His breathing picked up slightly.
“O-okay then. No getting out of t-this. Um, how about how long till it falls?” he asked, stuttering.
“In the next few seconds. I’m sorry, Peter,” she responded. “Would you like me to call Tony Stark?”
“NO! Uhh, d-don’t call him, please, I’m f-fine,” came his panicked reply.
“You don’t sound fine, Peter. Are you sure I shouldn’t call Tony Stark? It is part of one of my protocols.” Somehow, he thought he heard a hint of worry in her tone, or he was just imagining it.
“Of course it is,” he breathed. “”No, don’t call him. I can do this on my own.” He really didn’t want Mr Stark to see him panicking and crying.
“Three seconds until the building falls, Peter I suggest-” Karen's voice was cut off by the loud crash of the building falling.
He was facing up this time. He didn’t know if that made this better, or worse.
He could hardly breathe. With a large slab of the ceiling on top of him, plus his panic, it was an overwhelming chase for air. Tears streamed down his face, he didn’t want this to happen again. He was most likely going to die down here, alone.
Everything hurt, his back, his stomach, both of his legs, his arms, his feet, his neck, his everything. His mind was in shambles, he could hardly tell if he was still stuck under the building Thoomes had dropped on him. He only snapped out of his stupor and panicked crying when Karen’s voice pulled through.
“-call? Calling Tony St-” She started.
“NO! Karen, don’t call Mr Stark, please,” he pleaded weakly.
“You are critically injured and you were unresponsive for several minutes,” she countered. She continued, “You need medical attention immediately.”
He gasped as another wave of anxiety came over him. Was it just him or was a pair of glowing green eyes lingering in the dark?
“N-no I’m..fine. Just, can you just um, g-ground me? Do you know what t-that means actually..?” He trailed off.
“Certainly. What would you like me to do?”
“J-just, I need to s-s-stay in this moment,” he took a deep breathe, or, at least tried to. He winced when a sharp pain shot through his whole body at the attempt.
“Maybe m-music, I d-don’t know,” he sniffled and closed his eyes.
“Playing ‘Never Going to Give You up’ by Rick Astley,” she said.
His eyes snapped open and he choked. He was in between laughing and crying. Why that song? Of all the choices she could have decided between she chose a meme song.
We’re no strangers to love.
You know the rules, and so do I.
“Karen, w-why did you choose t-this song?” He was slightly smiling despite the situation.
“I noticed you play it a lot on your phone, and it is a very popular song. Why? Is there a problem?” She asked.
“Y-yeah I play it a lot but m-most of the time not v-voluntarily. N-no there’s not a problem, t-thanks K-karen,” he answered.
“No problem Peter, is this grounding you enough? May I call Tony Stark now?” She responded. He sighed, wincing right afterwards. He definitely had a broken rib or two.
“I can’t call him, Karen. I’d rather die than him being mad at me and taking the suit away again,” he whispered. Everything had started going a bit fuzzy, everything in his line of vision was slowly getting blurrier and blurrier. Whether from the tears, or the concussion he was guaranteed to have, he didn’t know.
“And then I also wouldn’t be able to talk to you, which I don’t like the sound. I love talking to you,” he whispered softly, as to stop his stuttering and preserve his voice.
“I enjoy talking to you, Peter. That’s why I need inform Tony Stark of your current situation. I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered back. He sniffled and closed his eyes in resignation.
“Okay, fine,” he muttered. Everything around him had started numbing slightly. The song finished and faded out.
“Calling, Tony Stark.”
There was a pause of silence as the phone was ringing. For a brief moment, he really thought Mr Stark wasn’t going to answer and he truly would die alone like this.
“Kid? What’s up, you never call me?” Mr Stark tone sounded worried when he picked up. Peter coughed sending sparks of pain all throughout his body.
“Mr Stark,” he rasped. He tried to clear his throat. “I-I’m stuck. Under a building, again. I n-need help-p. I-” his body shook as he started coughing again. He let out a short sob as his breathing picked up as the reality of the situation hit him again.
“Fuck, kid, where are you? What did you get yourself into this time….? F.R.I.D.A.Y. bring up his vitals and his location,” he ordered. “Get the suit ready also.”
“I don’t- I don’t know w-where I am, I g-got caught up in the f-fight,” he responded shaikly.
“Fight, what fight? Who were you fighting. Ugh, nevermind it doesn’t matter right now. F.R.I.D.A.Y says the suit’s too damaged so I can’t see your vitals, but I got your location…” he stopped.
“Mr S-stark?” The line was silent before he let out a shaky exhale.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y, suit, now .” The metal clanking of the suit assembling was heard through the line. Peter was confused, what made Mr Stark sound so - dare he even say it - scared.
“Kid, how the fuck did you land yourself in a Hydra Facility - the biggest one at that - on a fucking island??” Mr Stark asked, his voice sounding shaky.
“W-what? But I-I-I am n-not on an island!” He denied immediately. “H-how would I even get on an i-island?”
“I don’t know, but you managed to do the impossible somehow. My main concern is why you’re in a HYDRA FACILITY!”
“I d-don’t even know w-what a ‘Hydra F-Facility’ is. And - and I am p-p- positive I didn’t t-travel to an island! I was j-just fighting this dude, though he w-was a lot better than the n-normal criminals I f-fight,” Peter rambled off.
“ Shit , this is bad. Like really fucking bad. Like- nevermind, not the time,” Mr Stark let out a sigh. “Hang in there, Pete. I’m halfway there.” There was a pause of silence.
“You said there was another guy? The one you fought? Where is he? Did he run like he was expecting the building to fall? Did he have any strange symbol-things anywhere on his clothing?”
Peter blinked, then coughed.
“Too m-many questions, um. I-” Peter faltered. “Where did he go?” He mumbled to himself, but Mr Stark still heard it.
“I d-don’t really rem-remember, I was k-kinda too busy panicking t-to pay attention to him. He h-had this red octopos thing-y on his sh-shoulder, why?”
“Oh fuck , I need to tell S.H.I.E.L.D about this. How did this even happen? How did they get you all the way onto Hart Island without anyone knowing you none the wiser?” Mr Stark definitely sounded panicked and scared now.
“What? W-why? Mr Stark, I don’t u-understand, what’s happening? What’s H-Hart Island? I’ve never h-heard of it…” Peter trailed off.
“Not many have,” he started. “It’s an island up in Bronx, uninhabited, filled with bodies. It’s where one of Hydra’s main and biggest facility in the world is located. There’s not much information on Hart Island on the internet, mainly due to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Hydra is this organization, if you can call it that. It’s more like a huge cult, honestly. They’re bad. Like, really bad. I need to get you out of there as fast as I can. I’m almost there, just five minutes away,” he explained.
“O-okay.” Silence.
Peter tried to take a breath, but just he started coughing again, more violent than any other time. A copper taste filled his mouth.
“P-punctured lung-g,” he rasped out, breaking the silence.
“Punctured lung? You have a punctured lung? Shit , that’s not good. I’m no doctor like Bruce but I know that that is a very bad thing,” Mr Stark said, followed with a sigh of relief as he finally landed next to the demolished Hydra Facility.
“Okay, Pete, I’m here. I’ll get you out in no time.”
“Oka’ M’Staaark,” he slurred back. He really wanted to succumb to the darkness that was at the corners of his vision, but he knew he had to stay awake, at least ‘till Mr Stark got to him.
He heard the pounding of the Iron Man armour somewhere nearby, but the sound was echoey to his ears. The rubble above and around him started to shift and groan until they were finally moved out of the way.
“-eter? Peter! Answer me!” He then realized Mr Stark was talking to him, and sitting next to him. In person.
“Hiii Mr’Star’k when’d youuu get here?” His head lolled to the side, facing Mr Stark, who was fully in his Iron Man armour. His faceplate was lifted up, but as hard as Peter concentrated and squinted, he couldn’t actually see the man’s face.
“Shushhhh don’t worry about it, kid. The others are on their way, I don’t want to risk moving you and creating another problem,” He hushed him.
Peter tried to nod, though he didn’t actually hear anything Mr Stark said. He closed his eyes, too tired to keep them open any longer.
“Peter? Peter no, don’t sleep yet-!” Was the last thing Peter heard before he fell into blissful oblivion.
It was dark, and it was cold. He was scared.
He was in a maze. So many twists and turns leading to dead end after dead end. Going back and forth, trying to fix and find where he was before.
The maze seemed never ending, one mistake lead to another, leaving hi more lost than he was before.
If he had enough time, he could try to make a mental map of the place - but no he couldn’t do that. He was running, as fast as his legs allowed him. His panting breath coming out in front of him in the chilly air.
He was running for his life, and his sanity, and he knew it.
He couldn’t stop to catch his breath, otherwise that - that thing would catch up and he’d be dead or worse, tortured and -
A ruffle of the maze bushes stopped his train of thought. It was right there, hiding, watching him like a predator and he was the prey.
He was frozen, he couldn’t move, no matter how much his mind screamed at him to do so, he couldn’t. He was completely paralyzed, as the thing slowly crept its way out of it’s hiding place, savouring it’s prey being immobilized - however temporary it may be.
It looked human - (black hair, flowed down to it’s mid-back; cold, blue eyes; skin pale; from his point of view, height 6’2” if he had to guess) - but there was one thing it did have that no human normally had.
It had wings.
Not the pretty or beautiful kind most stories talked about. It was made of metal - if the light shining off of it was anything to tell by - and had sharp, jagged edges which were coated in some substance. He really didn’t want to know.
They were curled into the thing’s back, not in a fighting stance but ready to be at a moments notice.
It came to a stop, just three feet away from him. It smiled, or what looked like a smile. It was malicious, teeth filled with what he knew was blood. They looked to have been sawed into the way they are now - the sharpest teeth he had ever seen before - and he faintly thought in the back of his mind that they would rip through human skin like jello.
Then, it spoke.
“The time has come. Be ready, we will prevail. Потому что вы будете со смертью или страдаете своим непроизвольным умом.”
It’s voice was garbled and rough, as if never having spoken before. It’s voice was filled with what sounded like a sick form a glee and malice. He had no idea what the long string of gibberish (to him, at least), was. But he was sure it didn’t mean anything good. He memorized and stored it away in his mind to look up later, if there was going to be a later for him.
It seemed the thing had one last thing it had to say. It was whispered two words into the night, but he could hear it as if it was said right next to his ears. His stomach filled with apprehension and dread, mixing in with the terror he already felt.
“Hail Hydra.” -
- And he woke up.