Save Me // SpiderMan and the Avengers

lost

hey hey hey first of all I wanna say that I am absolutely not a writer and have never written anything before so this is guaranteed to go horribly wrong, but thanks for reading anyway!! Not totally sure what the story's gonna be yet, but I guess we'll see!!

Peter was shaking. Shaking from the cold and the pain, and this point he couldn't tell which was which. It was dark, and he couldn't tell where he was, all he could feel was the cold concrete on his face. He tried to sit up and immediately failed, yet another sharp pain coursing all through his leg. He looked down to try and see what had caused it, but it was impossible to make anything out, so he retired back to the cold ground.

He couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember?? He knew who he was. He was Peter. Peter Parker. He kept repeating his name in his head, which providing an odd sense of comfort. I'm Peter. Peter... Right? For all he knew that could be someone else's name, but knowing something made him feel okay for the moment.

But nothing else would come to mind. Had he had a family? Friends? A home? Bits and pieces flew back in forth in his brain, snippets of words and conversations with people he felt guilty for not recognizing.

Peter started to cry. There was no use, he felt helpless. He couldn't see, couldn't hear anyone in the dead silence, couldn't remember anything. Nothing except a nagging feeling that someone, somewhere was in trouble. A feeling all too familiar. He knew he had to get out of here. But how? He surely couldn't stand, much less walk around long enough to find an exit. His silent sobs echoed around the place, bouncing off of walls from the ground where he so weakly laid.

He closed his eyes, seeing no difference in the pitch blackness in his vision. After a while he stopped crying in an attempt to pull himself together, but also because it made him feel no less defeated than before. He needed to do something. Anything. Maybe once he got out of wherever he was he would remember. Maybe he had a family. Maybe he was loved.

Or maybe he wasn't.

"Hello?" He cried feebly into the darkness. He hadn't expected how high and hoarse his voice would've been, sounding weak from sheer inactivity.

"Please..." nothing more than a slightly elevated whisper escaped this time, but it was all he could do to keep from going insane.

Peter strained his ears in hopes of hearing even the slightest movement, the slightest sign of life. But there was nothing. Nothing but, again, that nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he can't be here right now. Someone is in danger. Someone.... close to him. Someone he loves.

He laid there for a while, still trying to listen for any response, and began to strain his eyes in the darkness. From when he was calling out and how much his small voice echoed, he'd assumed that this was a large space. Like a warehouse, or an empty building. There was no light near him though, so no windows. Nothing.

He tried to pick himself up again, this time just turning without using his legs, enough to get him to sit up. There was not nearly as much pain in his legs, but a stab in his side that made him cry out. But this time he did not let it push him down, and continued to sit up. His need to save that person, whoever they may be, was his only motivator. He had nothing else to go on.

Suddenly, seemingly coming from no where, footsteps. Muffled and heavy, but footsteps. Peter's heart rate quickened so fast he thought it might jump out of his chest. He mustered all the strength he had left to call out one more time.

"Hello? Who are you, where am I? Why am I- " but he was cut off by the sound of a punch to his left, replacing the footsteps with panicked scurrying. He still couldn't see anything, but he was able to make a picture in his mind of what sounded like two men fighting, one punching the other constantly, and the other hitting something that sounded like metal.

After a couple minutes of muffled jabs and clanging metal, there was a defeated grunt and a wheeze, the punching subsided, and something fell to the floor. Peter sat absolutely still, confused as to whether he should be thankful for his savior or terrified of his captor. He clung onto hope that the winner meant no harm, but even so he held his breath as to make him absolutely silent, and strained his ears for any further movement, his heart still beating rapidly.

He tried to scooch himself backwards without putting any pressure on his wounded legs, or aggravating the aches in his side, but couldn't move without moaning in pain, and went for the option that might draw less attention to himself.

Eyes wide in fear, he once again searched all around him for signs of life, and once again only found pitch blackness. The mixture of fear and helplessness brought tears to his eyes all over again, but he wouldn't dare start to cry when his life could be in danger. Instead he sat and waited.

The man left standing started to mumble something Peter couldn't quite make out, he sounded very far away, yet some words sounded like they were right in his ear, impossible to discern. The voice then unmistakably came closer, and Peter was soon able to make some words out.

"One hostile so far..............yeah, of course I checked...........no sign of him...............FUCK"

The last word was so loud that Peter involuntarily squealed and jumped, much to the chagrin of his mangled limbs. The noise he did make, however, was enough for the disembodied voice to notice his presence, or so it seemed as it stopped mumbling and began walking purposefully in his direction. Peter had no choice but to sit still and await his fate, terrified every second of his confused and weak existence. The footsteps stopped right in front of him, and the man released a small gasp.

".....Kid?"

Is that me? Peter stupidly wondered, who else would he be talking to? But he didn't recognize the voice at all.

"Are you going to- hurt me?" He winced at every word, causing a stabbing in his throat only caused by trying to speak. But he had to get some answers.

The man's breathing quickened, but he did not respond. Soon additional footsteps followed by new disembodied voices made their way towards the cowering Peter, unaware and blind to anything that was happening.

"Did you find him?" This one was from a soft, yet menacing woman.

" Oh my god-" This time from a stern and deep voice, laced with fear.

"Can he see us?" Came a rugged sounding voice from near the back of the group.

Mumblings revealed at least five more adults, all sounding equally concerned. Peter was less scared now as they didn't seem to want to kill him, but not at all comforted by the everlooming darkness and new presences who had not made themselves or their intentions clear. The first man spoke once again, this time closer to Peters face, it sounded as though he had kneeled down.

"Kid, are you alright? You're shaking." He sounded on the verge of tears, and spoke quietly as if speaking too loudly would make him lose his cool.

After a bit of silence, the man said, "I don't- I don't think he can see us." to those standing behind him. He sounded just as scared as Peter felt, who was unwilling to stay quiet any longer.

"Who are you?"

ik ik nothing really happened, and nothing is explained, but I am absolutely going to write more because it's pretty fun. If you're reading thank you so much!! Feel free to comment or request or whatever you like