Peter was walking home when the news broke out, and his phone had died half-way through fifth period so, he couldn't pick up when Tony tried to call. He had no idea what was coming for him, and no clue as to what was playing on every news announcement on tv.

Toomes had broken out of prison.

"He's not answering. Shit, Steve, he's not answering!" Tony was frantic, mind already filled with every possible horrible scenario.

He turned to the first Avenger, already beginning to hyperventilate as he tried Peters phone again. "What if he's already got him? We have to go find him, we-"

"Tony, calm down. We don't know anything yet. Don't go jumping to conclusions. We'll go find him."

He patted Tony's shoulder in comfort, even as his own heart pounded in his chest. It wasn't a secret that Toomes wanted to get revenge on the person who was responsible for putting him in prison, and they knew that Peter's age would not deter him from doing what he thought was necessary.

"Friday, activate Peter's tracker."

Tony drove as fast as he could, heart in his throat the whole way, but when they arrived at the tracker's location, it sunk right down to his feet.

The tracker was discarded on the concrete, in an alleyway, along with Peter's school bag and cellphone. Steve knelt next to the teenager's strewn belongings as Tony looked around for any sight of him.

"Tony." Steve's tone was bad enough, but Tony felt as if he couldn't breathe when he lifted the backpack.

There was blood splashed over the blue fabric, bright and still wet. Tony's own blood ran cold.

"He's gone."

…..

Peter's head pounded, and his eyes were heavy as he blinked through the darkness. He didn't know where he was or why the ground was rumbling beneath him like a - why was he in a van?

He groaned in pain, unaware of how it alerted his captor until he heard a low rumbling voice. It was familiar in a way that made a shiver run up his spine and his spidey sense flare.

"Go back to sleep, Pedro. We aren't there just yet."

Tires squealed as the world tilted sharply to the side, and Peter suddenly realised his hands were tied, when they didn't come forward to stop his descent. The force of the van's turn propelled him sideways and he slammed into the metal with a resounding bang.

The world disappeared with the sound of Toomes' laugh ringing in his ears.

…

The next time Peter woke, he was noticeably colder and his head spun so badly he thought it might fall off. He barely had enough time to look around his concrete cell, before that voice came again, chilling him more than the cold did.

"Do you know what prison's like, Peter?"

He shook, working to steady his breathing as he looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. The room was bare concrete, no windows, no furniture but a metal toilet in the corner. There was nothing else but a door locked tight with speakers and cameras in the top corners of the room.

The voice came again, predatory and cold. "It's no picnic."

Peter whipped his head around, wincing at the pain that spiked at the movement. He lifted his hand to the back of his head, fingers meeting wet hair that was matted to a cut across his scalp. It was already healing.

"You took me away from my family. Made my wife hate me, made my daughter cry. Do you know what it was like, seeing her face when we said goodbye? That's my little girl, Peter. And you took her away from me."

Peter stood on shaky legs, finding his feet to be bare on the cold concrete floor. His backpack was gone, along with his sweater and shoes and socks, leaving him in just his jeans and t-shirt.

Toomes sounded so angry. It was the same voice that he remembered, and he could almost see the glowing green eyes that came with it. The low, furious timbre of his words shot fear into his heart, so sharp he lifted a hand to press against his chest.

"I'm going to take you away from everyone you care about, and I'm going to break you until there's nothing left. You're going to find out what prison is like. Welcome to solitary."

The speaker crackled as if turned off, and Peter was left in a silence so deep, not even his advanced hearing could pick up anything but his own laboured breaths.

Toomes hadn't been using a metaphor. Peter walked over to the steel door, seeing the slot there. He was in an abandoned prison, and he was trapped.

"No, no, no. This can't be happening."

Peter pressed his hands to the freezing cold metal of the door, pushing against it with all his strength. Usually, Peter was strong enough to catch cars, and lift whole walls of lockers but now…

He couldn't do it.

The metal wouldn't give under his hands, the steel groaning with the effort but remaining stronger than he was.

A laugh came from the speakers, cruelly amused by his hopeless situation. It was slightly too loud, making Peters a headache worsen. "Uh oh, Pedro. Are your powers not working? That might be the chloroform."

Peter let out a shaky breath as he took a step away from the door, whole body shaking from the cold.

"I've got it into the air supply. Just enough to make you too weak to leave. Get comfy kid, you're here for good."

The voice had been tormenting him in his dreams for weeks, but now it was real and Peter couldn't escape it.

…

"He was supposed to come home two hours ago, Tony! I already called Ned and he hasn't seen him, and now you're telling me you don't know where he is?!"

May was breathing too hard and too fast, and while Tony felt the same panic she did, he couldn't tell her what was really happening. He placed his hands on her arms, trying to calm her.

"Hey, we'll find him. It'll be okay."

She shook his hands off, running a hand through her hair as her eyes grew damp. "It's not okay because he's gone. I need him back, I just- I need to know he's okay."

Tony nodded the blood and discarded backpack in the alley still fresh in his mind. "I know, I'm worried too."

May looked up at him, eyes wide and scared behind her glasses. "I can't lose my little boy. He's all I have left."

Tony found it hard to look directly at her, all of her pain and desperation echoing his feelings as they filled up his chest, threatening to drown him.

"You won't lose him. We'll find him. Steve is already out searching and I have Natasha looking through all the security footage from where Peter usually walks home."

She panted, trying to gain some control as she narrowed her eyes at him, confused. "You have the Avengers looking for my son? I thought he was just an intern or something." She was grateful for any help in finding her child, of course, she was, but she didn't know why Tony would go to all the trouble.

Tony shrugged, looking away from her accusing eyes. "Yeah well, he's a good kid and believe it or not, I care about him."

May watched him for a moment before shaking her head and grabbing her purse. "I'm going to file a missing persons report."

Tony wanted to stop her but it didn't seem to be too bad of an idea to get some extra help. He nodded and picked up her jacket from the couch, holding it out to her and helping her put it on.

"I'll come with you."