The last thing he remembered, was walking home from school. He'd been excited to go on patrols, eager to brush away the stress of his classes. But he never made it home.

He didn't even hear the footsteps coming up behind him, didn't pay attention, because he was too distracted by his own thoughts on his patrols. But, the footsteps came closer, and suddenly there was an arm around his throat, and a taser pressed to his back. Peter let out a grunt of pain before his entire body locked up, electricity running through his body.

The assailant kept the taser on him, as they eased him to the ground, smiling down at him as he continued to shake.

"I've done my research on you, Peter. I know you can take much more than others, so I amped up the voltage on this thing just for you. I also made you a special little something to keep you from running away on me."

Peter didn't know what they were talking about, only able to heave in air when the taser was finally removed. Had his body been working properly, he might have gotten up in time to avoid the hands of the man standing over him. But he felt fuzzy and weak, unable to pull his arm away when it was picked up and stretched out.

The man above him smiled as he pressed a needle to a vein in Peter's arm, voice warping and melting as Peter's mind was reduced to mush.

"Goodnight little spider."

….

That was the last thing that the teenager remembered, but now that he was awake, he had no idea where he was or what was happening.

It was cold, he knew that much. And it may have been dark, but that may have also been because his eyes were closed. His mind was fuzzy and his body was like putty, with no shape or discernible use, but he could hear someone talking.

It was a familiar voice, one that made him feel safe, but the tone was one he hadn't heard before, and that worried him. He didn't know how to feel about it, so, he decided to just figure out who it was first.

"-kay, I promise. I'll get us out of this Peter, just wake up, please. Let me know you're okay."

Tony. That was who the voice belonged to. Peter's head rolled towards the voice, and he did his best to open his eyes.

Blink. Blurred shapes and colours.

Blink. Tony was sitting a few meters away, on a chair with…were those ropes around his wrists and ankles?

"That's it, kid. I'm right here, and we'll be okay."

Peter didn't know where 'here' was, and he was scared, because Tony's voice was shaking, and there was blood trailing down his face from a small cut above his left eye.

His voice came out small and broken. "M-Mr Stark? What's happening?"

Tony's brow creased in concern, as he leaned forward as much as he could, in the chair. "We'll be okay, but I need you to listen to me, because we don't have much time, until he comes back. You have to pull your hands free, you can do it, you're strong enough."

Free of what? Peter rolled his head again, looking down at his hands. He hadn't realised before, but he was laying on a cold, metal table, and his hands and ankles were tied down with thick leather straps. He watched his fingers twitch, and tried to pull at the straps, but he was so weak, he couldn't break free.

Peter let out a whimper, trying as hard as he could. Usually, he was strong enough to lift lockers, and catch cars, but something was wrong.

"I can't do it, Mr Stark. I don't feel so good. I want to go home."

Tony hung his head, cursing, before lifting it again to look at Peter with a reassuring smile.

"I know, buddy. And we will, we'll go home as soon as the others find us. It'll be okay."

Another voice echoed in the dark, and Peter's eyes roamed over his surroundings, only just noticing that they were in a dim lab of some kind.

"Oh, I don't think you will. In fact, I don't think he'll make it out alive."

The voice was the same as the one he remembered from his walk home, and Tony evidently remembered it too, because he lunged forward in his seat, baring his teeth.

"Don't touch him!"

The man laughed, and Peter shivered, curling his toes, and pulling his bare feet in the straps.

"I won't have to, for the most part. Peter was right you know, he can't break free, in fact, the poor boy can hardly concentrate."

Tony's eyes widened and turned back to the teenager on the table, stomach dropping as he took in the unfocused, confused look in Peter's eyes, and the way he pulled weakly at the straps holding him down.

"What did you give him?"

Their captor smiled and walked closer, trailing a finger over Peter's bare side, making him shiver. Peter's shirt had been taken, as well as his shoes, leaving him only in the pants he'd worn to school, and he felt goose bumps raise across his chest as he tried to curl away from the unwanted touch.

"It's a special mix of sedatives and paralytics that I came up with just for him. It'll keep him weak and…vulnerable, so that he can't cause me any trouble while I'm teaching you a lesson."

Tony watched Peter whimper and squirm, trying to get away from the man standing over him.

"What lesson? Who are you?" The longer he got the maniac to talk, the longer the rest of the Avengers had to find them. And they would, because he'd been hit over the head while on the phone to Happy. He'd have called for help by now, and they'd be rescued any minute. They had to be.

"Oh, we don't know each other personally, but I'm very familiar with your work. I was a doctor in a pretty big hospital in New York, and after the mess you made with those aliens, our beds were full. Do you know what it's like to have to hear people, kids, scream for help, and not be able to do anything about it? Because the corridors are full of people that are injured, and there aren't enough of us to help them? Building's came down, they crushed people, you killed people."

Tony's breathing grew faster as he pulled at his restraints. It was always about New York. They'd done their best to save the world, and now he would forever be paying the price for it.

"I'm sorry. We did our best, we tried-"

"I tried! I tried to save them all but we didn't have what we needed! We ran out of blood, there were too many injured! You need to learn there are consequences for your actions. You need to feel what it's like to hear children scream, and beg you for help. I heard this one is quite special to you. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who he is."

The doctor leaned over Peter once more. "How is our Spider-Man doing?"

Tony pulled at the ropes once more, willing to do anything to spare the teenager in front of him. "Please, don't hurt him. I'm the one you're mad at, you can do anything you want to me, just don't hurt him."

The Doctor looked over to Stark again, frowning as he shook his head. "You don't get to decide that."

Peter wasn't sure what was happening, all he saw Tony struggling, and yelling at the man, and suddenly his whole body was on fire.

Tony struggled in his chair, begging for The Doctor to stop, as Peter jerked and shook on the table, limbs smacking noisily against the metal. Grunts and moans escaped Peters mouth, as the muscles across his chest contracted, jaw clenching shut.

When the current ceased, Peter's body slumped, muscles twitching restlessly as he panted, and that cruel voice came again.

"Those restraints aren't just there to keep him still. I want you to see the pain you cause, every time you play hero. Because sometimes, there's nothing you can do to stop it."

Peter watched his hand move towards the power switch again, and let out a whimper. "Please, stop."

Tony was straining in his chair, but it was bolted to the floor, and he wasn't strong like Peter, he couldn't break free.

"No! Don't hurt him! Peter!"

The current sparked to life, and Peter shook once more.

Tony yelled profanities as Peter's head smacked repeatedly against the table, a strained scream coming from behind his clenched teeth.

"Stop! Turn it off, you piece of shit! I'm going to fucking kill you!"

The Doctor smiled sadistically as he turned up the dial, making Peters back arch off the table, and scream grow louder as the buzzing of electricity grew in intensity.

Tony's breaths were coming too fast, and he pulled against the ropes hard enough to bruise. "No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just please stop!"

Peter's head was thrown back, and blood began bubbling from his mouth, rolling down his cheeks

The electricity was turned off and Peter slumped again, looking dazed. The Doctor walked over with a penlight, holding Peter's head still as he shone it in his eyes, before hovering it over the kid's mouth.

"Hmm, looks like he's bitten his cheek. It's not so bad, but it looks like it hurts. I wonder if you've learnt your lesson yet."

Tony's eyes filled with tears as he watched Peter lay helpless while the Doctors fingers probed inside his mouth.

"I have. I've learnt my lesson, let him go."

Peter pulled at his restraints again, clumsy, and uncoordinated, as he turned his head away from the man standing over him, letting out a small, displeased grunt as he did.

Their captor shook his head, looking bored, as he put the penlight away and walked over to Tony.

"I don't think you have. I don't think you've suffered enough."

His fingers were coated in the blood from Peters mouth, and Tony tried to pull away as the man wiped them on his shirt, smearing lines of red across his chest.

"Shall we go another round?"

That seemed to bring Peter back to the present, and he released a sob, turning his head to the side so he wouldn't choke on the blood trailing from his lips.

"Please, stop. I can't…"

Tears fell from Tony's eyes, as Peter sobbed, body shaking with the effort, his sweat soaked hair plastered back on his forehead.

This was all his fault, Peter was innocent, Tony was the one that had hurt so many people. He'd been telling the truth when he said he'd tried, that he'd done his best, but you can't always save everyone, and now Peter was paying the price. And he couldn't save him.

The Doctor walked back to his dial, watching as Peter struggled and cried, begging for the pain to end, panicking at the prospect of being electrocuted again.

"Please, don't do it again! Mr Stark, it hurts, make it stop. I'm scared…please."

The look on the doctor's face wasn't one of pride or pleasure anymore. He looked almost sorry, for what he was doing. Peter's weak cries filled the cold room, and Tony tried to reason with the man hurting them.

"He's only fifteen, he didn't do anything wrong. Please, let him go."

His hand left the dial, and his voice was quieter.

"Maybe I should hurt you instead; give the kid a break."

Tony would have gladly taken Peters place, but didn't get the chance to speak before a weak gurgle rose from the form on the table.

"No. Don't…don't hurt him."

Peter had turned his head to Tony, chest still heaving with sobs, but his eyes were more determined.

The Doctor smirked, looking almost fondly at the teenager. "Look at that, I guess he is a hero. You must be so proud."

Tony didn't have time to respond before Peter was screaming again, the dial turned all the way up. Tony sobbed, helpless, as scream after scream was torn from Peter's throat.

It was the worst kind of pain, because Tony would have done anything to feel it instead of Peter, would have done anything to stop it, but there was nothing that he could do.

Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore screaming, there was a loud bang, as the door exploded inwards.

The Doctor jumped in surprise, while Tony sobbed with relief. Steve stormed in, briefly hesitating at the sight of Peter, screaming, and thrashing against the table, before he surged forward and punched the Doctor right in the chest, with so much rage that the force sent him smashing into the wall.

He slumped to the floor, unmoving, and Steve immediately turned off the electrical current, as Natasha, Bruce, and Bucky hurried in.

Peter fell limp against the table, as the current ceased, face falling to the side, so that Tony could see his closed eyes. His bare chest was heaving, straining to pull in air into his exhausted body, and Tony pulled at his restraints, desperate to get to him.

Steve ran over to the teenager, undoing the restraints as he called to him, voice full of concern.

"Peter? Can you hear me?"

There was no response, just laboured wet breaths, and Bruce quickly went over to check the kid over.

"Is he okay? Peter!" Tony was in hysterics, yanking at the ropes so hard Natasha thought he might tear his skin, and she and Bucky quickly got them undone.

Bruce looked back at him briefly, before focussing again on his main patient.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Tony quickly shook his head, though it made him dizzy and nauseous to do so. He could have been bleeding out and he wouldn't care, all he cared about was Peter.

He asked again, trying to get to his kid, despite the hands that tried to hold him in his seat.

"Is he okay? That bastard shocked him so many times, and he drugged him with something, he said it was a mixture of sedatives and paralytics."

Bruce sighed and nodded, lifting Peters eyelids to check his pupils. "That's probably why he's having so much trouble breathing. We need to get him to the compound, now."

Tony broke past Natasha's hands and made it to the table, picking up one of Peter's limp hands and letting out a shaky breath at the burns across his wrists.

"I couldn't do anything to save him. He was begging me to help but I…I couldn't. It wasn't even about him, he just wanted to punish me, to teach me a lesson. Peter didn't deserve this."

Bruce took off his jacket and laid it over Peter's exposed chest, trying to keep him warm. "I know, Tony. But it's all okay now. Let's get you both home."

Steve slipped one arm under Peter's knees, and the other under his back, doing his best to be gentle and not to jostle him too much, but the boy was floppy and nothing nut deadweight. His head lolled back on Steve's arm until he shifted his weight a little, and cradled him to his chest, Peter's head falling against his shoulder instead.

Tony couldn't help but think he looked so, so small in Steve's arms, as he brushed the kid's hair back and tucked Bruce's jacket, more firmly around him.

"It's all okay now, Peter. We got you."

…..

They got the two back to the compound in record time, bursting into the med bay in a cacophony of sound and panic.

"Set him down here, and get Tony into a chair, he shouldn't be standing right now."

Steve complied, laying Peter carefully down on the bed and quickly stepping back to allow Bruce room to work. Tony was close behind but Bucky took him firmly by the shoulders and sat him in a chair, gruff voice quiet.

"Let Bruce handle it."

Tony tried to push the soldier's hands away, but wasn't strong enough, as he watched Bruce pull on gloves and place an oxygen cannula under Peter's nose.

"This is my fault, he was trying to punish me, and he hurt Peter to do it."

Natasha turned to him, frowning. "It's not your fault that a psychopath decided to take out his problems on a fifteen-year-old. It doesn't matter now, anyway, he's dead."

Peter lay limp on the hospital bed, looking like a small, broken, doll; as Bruce shone a penlight in his eyes, voice calm.

"I need quiet in here, Peter's going to be confused and possibly agitated when he wakes up, and I don't need any distractions for him. He may not act like himself for a little while, his mind is going to be scrambled, so the less sensory input, the better."

Bruce moved the penlight lower, parting Peter's lips with gentle fingers and inspecting the inside of his mouth to see where the blood was coming from. It was like a switch was flipped; Peter's eyes snapped open, and he let out a grunt as he shoved Bruce away.

Usually, Peter kept his strength under control, but he wasn't thinking clearly, mind scrambled and scared, and he shoved Bruce with so much force that he flew half-way across the room.

Tony leapt to his feet, as Steve lunged for the bed, holding Peter's arms down before he could do anything more than attempt to sit up.

Peter struggled, crying as he tried to get away from the hands pushing him down on the bed. His eyes were open but he was too confused to realise where he was or who was restraining him.

Bruce picked himself off the floor and came back to the bed, as Tony and the others watched, with wet eyes.

"No! No, let me go! Please, don't do it again! Tony!" Steve's breath hitched as he pressed Peter's arms to his chest, trying to avoid the burn marks on his wrists, while doing his best to hold the kid still as he kicked and thrashed.

"Peter, you're okay. You're safe now, we've got you! Stop fighting me!"

Bruce grabbed a syringe and found a vein in Peter's arm, quickly injecting the strengthened morphine as Peter sobbed.

"It hurts, Tony please, help me."

The boy's thrashing calmed some, as the pain relief took hold, relaxing him; but he still pulled at Steve's hold and cried.

Tony stayed back until Bruce nodded at him, allowing him forward.

"Peter? It's me, it's Tony."

The teenager's eyes were glassy and tired, but they found Tony and his face crumpled again. "Tony. Help me."

Tony looked at Cap, words shaking. "Let him go, let me hold him."

Bruce wanted Peter calm too, but didn't want to risk injuries either of them further. "We need to keep him lying flat if we can, the repetitive shocks could have affected his spinal cord and I don't want to take any chances."

Peter didn't know where he was, or who was with him apart from Tony, and he was so scared. Tony couldn't let that continue.

"Please."

Bruce sighed, giving in, and nodded.

Steve looked about as ready to cry as Tony did, as he slowly released Peter's arms, allowing the boy to clumsily reach for his hero, weak fingers pulling at Tony's shirt until he got the message and took him in his arms, hugging him close.

"You're okay now, Pete. I've got you. I told you they'd find us. Everything's going to be okay."

Peter whimpered, hands fisting into the fabric of Tony's shirt over his back, as he trembled.

"Shh, it's okay. We're safe now, I've got you."

Tony finally laid Peter back down, quickly taking his hand in his grasp and squeezing tight when he let out a whimper at the lost contact.

"Tony!"

"I'm right here, kiddo. I'm not leaving you."

Those bright eyes blinked heavily, and his voice was weak from all the screaming he'd done.

"I'm scared."

Tony bit his lip and took a deep breath before answering, feeling his cheeks wet with tears. "I know, buddy, but he's gone now, do you understand? He won't hurt you ever again. No one will, I promise."

This calmed Peter down, and Tony brushed a hand through the teenager's hair, watching his eyes dip lower.

"Go to sleep, Pete. I'll be right here."

He didn't want to, he didn't want to meet The Doctor in his dreams, but he couldn't fight it, as Tony brushed a gentle hand over his cheeks, wiping away the last of his tears.

He fell asleep with his hero's hand in his, and the promise that he was safe.