M-Mr. Stark? Help m-me!

13. Save one soul

Recap:

Spider-Man had failed someone who Peter had thought was never even possible for everything he'd experienced. He failed himself.

Chapter 13: Save one soul

Peter had sat in the same place for hours, or maybe it was days, he never knew. He sat in the corner with his back to the wall and his knees brought up to his chest, taking in any amount of warmth and comfort he could manage. His eyes were trained on the metal door, it never budged yet that didn't change his mind. The Spider-Man suit scraps lay scattered across the ground as if it were trash a dog had gotten a hold of. Blood littering the ground and his corner he had now claimed a safe space.

The dripping water in the adjacent corner began to trigger everything over and over again. The same clear blue liquid were that of Roy's eyes. They tore into Peters mind. Blue eyes traveled over his body, taking in every inch. Roy's face ingrained into his head. Those inspecting eyes were able to make someone as strong as Peter feel weak and insignificant. Even with clothes on those eyes could see the color of your skin beneath.

The dripping leading into echoing across the empty area. His whispers, his moans, his words, his voice, all echoed with the water.

Roy still was in this room, he had to be. Peter never saw him leave...or did he? In this corner nothing could get him from behind and he could see everything coming for him at the front.

Every now and then Peter smacked the back of his neck for a stray hair tickled along like Roy's heaving breath. Sometimes he would claw back open the regenerated skin of the cut along his thigh because it felt like Roy's fingers were still in there, grabbing and digging around, spewing blood here and there, but was the blood spewing from Roy's fingers, the knife, or from Peter? Peters mouth would hang open for moments, he couldn't stand the tongue in his mouth, it either felt like Roy's tongue or his...his thing in his mouth. Peter couldn't even bare to say anything about Roy's dick and himself in the same sentence. Peter couldn't swallow the reality of the situation. He couldn't swallow in general, it felt like his warm disgusting cum or the cold tears. When the spit had no where else to go though, it would spill out of his mouth, dripping out, reminding him of the rough kiss he couldn't escape so he sat there gagging. In rough moments where his mind would waiver in between both the forced blowjob or the forced kiss he would move forward onto his hands and knees and gag so much he'd have to collapse to his elbows and knees, sometimes that position would stop the gagging and dry heaving. He'd collapse and curl in on himself longing for escape, not just from this cell, but from his mind too. No matter how you perceived this situation he was trapped.

It didn't matter anymore how long he'd been kidnapped anymore. It mattered how long until Roy came back or when the memories resurfaced. Peter vowed to himself that he would never ever let Roy know how much this had affected him.

Peter continued to stare at the metal doors and as soon as he was about to do his routinely scan of the rest of the room the door handle bobbed down and then up. The door swung open.

"Hello Peter. I'm assigned to give you your food and-" Mysterio was carrying a tray and a cup and had pushed the door open with his back, he never finished his sentence, just looked around in silence. Peter inspected the man and analyzed every move, waiting patiently for a threat to surface. "Uh. What happened to..."Mr. Beck motioned to the entirety of the room,not knowing what one thing to point at "everything?" "Oh you know nothing much, just rape, torture, emotions, kidnapping." The victim nonchalantly said. "What?" Was all that was replied to Peter after a few moments of silence.

What? Peter thought. Did he not know this was part of the job or something?

"He...that's what he...are..." Mr Beck couldn't settle on words so they just stared at each other in more silence.

"Well I...uh I brought you food?" Not fully a statement, maybe more of an offering. "I'll go ask if they have any clothes for you since...yeah." He laid the tray on the ground along with the cup and walked away closing the door behind him. Peter didn't move. He watched one too many movies to know all the possible threats. He had no doubt that there was poison in the food or the cup of liquid or both. So, Peter sat. Sitting in the same corner in the same position as always, watching every moment with anticipation.

Then came more long moments of waiting. Alone.

Then after some time Mr. Beck came back.
Peter watched as Mysterio stepped cautiously back in the room with fabric in his hands, he stepped over the untouched tray of food and closer to Peter. Once Mysterio crossed an imaginary line Peter had made in his head he stood up slowly, trying to size Mysterio up. The invisible line was a boundary and his boundaries had been crossed one too many times, this was going to be another fight for his own safety and well being. "Wow. Didn't need to see that on my Monday morning. Any way, here kid, it's clothes that apparently should fit you." Peter didn't step forward only moved his legs shoulder width apart, bent his knees and loosely held his arms in front of his chest, a fighting stance.

"Look I don't want to torture you or anything, I'm here for the pay and to get back at Tony stark, apparently you are the best way to do that. Don't make me do anything and I won't have to." Those words did nothing. Peter lunged forward for Mysterio and grabbed him by the throat, dragging them both down to the floor, Peter straddled Mysterios waist and held him down trying to make the man unconscious.

Mysterio grabbed both of Peter wrists and threw Peter over onto his back so this way he was now on top. "Ew ew ew. Absolutely disgusting. Please stop you are literally naked. Put the fucking clothes on, I don't want to be in here with you as much as you don't want to be in here with me." Now that changed Peters demeanor, yet he's not too sure why. Peter stopped struggling and let the man get up and leave, noticing how the man constantly looked back.

As soon as the door was closed he scrambled over to the clothes, a grey sweatshirt and black sweat pants. He slipped them on smoothly, taking in all of the warmth. He stood there crossing his arms across his body to keep his arms warm as well. Standing was draining his energy fast, without food and sleep there was barely any to even begin with. As he slid down the wall back into his corner a red light caught his eye. It was part of his suit. A red blinking. Something was on like a signal or a beacon. Peter sluggishly made his way over to the general area waiting for another blink. Once it blinked one more time he grabbed the shredded suits arm and pulled the material off until only wires and a transmitter was visible.

Peter found a small button in a crevice and pushed it up, the light was now green. It had to be connected to something else on another end so he did the only thing he could think of. He switched it from red to green three times in short amounts of time, then back and forth for three long times and then back to the three short times. The universal signal for S.O.S.

Maybe instead of the meaning save our ship it would mean save one soul.

Peter left the device stay on red for a long moment and then switched it back to green hoping that green meant on. Usually green meant on and that meant it was alive, hope sparked inside the pits of Peters stomach.

The door squeaked once again.

There was no place to hide this , especially with the bright and visible green light now. Not even the shredded suits could hide it, it would be obvious he was hiding it too with a clump of his torn suit in a corner. He couldn't swallow it, at least he didn't think he could, 'my stomach acid would probably eat this alive.'

With no more time left to think he peeled back the healing scab of his thigh and pushed back some skin, sliding the device into his thigh. At last he settled back down into his safe space and watched the door creak open.