Hello everyone! So this idea is something I've been toying around with for a while and I finally think I have a decent enough version of it to post. I don't want to ramble too much, because I'm hoping to let the story do the explaining, but this is an AU. As the summary says, Peter's parents are still alive and are scientists working for Hydra, and all the Avengers have met in some way although events may have played out slightly differently due to some character variations from that. Anyway, that's all I want to clarify for now. I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think! The next chapter is already written, so just let me know if you want it and I'll update soon!

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of his own head pounding between his ears was the first thing he heard when he woke up.

Peter let out a low groan, unable to help himself. He attempted to raise a hand to his head, to rub his temple, but found that he couldn't. He also found that he was tied up, to a chair, by the feel of it, his arms and legs tied to the corresponding parts of the seat underneath of him. What the hell was happening?

He tried to recall how he'd ended up here. He'd been on his way home from school, had decided to get a sandwich and go patrolling, knowing his parents were away on business and wouldn't be around to notice, when he'd run into a man on the street… He remembered brief bits of conversation, but that was about it.

He wanted it not to matter that he didn't remember, but it did, because it meant he had no clues as to where he was, what happened, who had him, and why. What would anyone want with him? Sure, they were well off enough, but they weren't rich or well known, so ransom was out of the question. He didn't really have any enemies - he was a teenager, still in high school, for God's sake - and he didn't see how the scientific research his parents did would piss anyone off. And he was nearly certain no one could have figured out his secret identity. Who would have? No one paid very close attention to him at all. He only had one close friend, and his two parents, and he doubted this would have been the result of either if them had figured it out.

"Oh, you're awake. That was… quicker than expected."

The voice was vaguely familiar, but holy shit did it make his head thump to hear someone talk. Sensory overload was a danger for him on a good day, but with this migraine, and the fact he suddenly realized he was blind, it was dangerously close already.

He groaned again, unable to help it, but when he went to open his mouth enough to say something, he suddenly realized he couldn't. He was gagged, too.

What the hell was going on?

"Alright, hold on now. I'll take it out, but if you start screaming on me I will definitely put it back."

Peter didn't make any effort to hide his flinch when he spoke again; he couldn't stop himself from recoiling if he wanted to. Oh, the voice was enough to make his head feel like it was going to explode. The sound of shoes on the hardwood floor was more bearable, even if it still felt like knives in his ears. If he had been in a state to he might have scoffed. Like he could scream in this state.

He could feel the man's body heat when he got close, and the hand that hooked the gag and pulled it out was surprisingly easy about it. And when the voice came again, it was closer, right above him, but much lower, as if the man had noticed his flinch. "Better?" Gruff, but soft, barely above a whisper.

Peter exhaled a little breath, trying to keep the urge to vomit under control. As gentle as he was, the hand that had brushed his face had almost hurt, reminding him he was dangerously close to sensory overload in an already dangerous situation.

When he was sure he wasn't going to upchuck all over whoever his captor was, he managed a low murmur. "Yeah." The word was hard to get out, and swallowed hard. His throat felt like sandpaper. "I can't…"

"See? Yeah, that's the point in the blindfold, kid." He heard some shuffling, and then something cold and hard was being pressed against his mouth. "Here. Drink."

Peter turned his head away, ignoring the throbbing in it and the wave of nausea the motion caused. "I'm… I'm good."

A quiet scoff came from somewhere above him, and despite his effort to turn away, the glass simply followed him. "Don't be an idiot, kid. You're going to be here a while and if I wanted to poison you then half of this charade wouldn't be necessary. Drink."

Sighing slightly, Peter relented, drinking the liquid as the mystery man poured it into his mouth. It was good, and he felt some of his strength returning as it flowed into him. If he could just shake this headache and this overwhelming feeling of general weakness, maybe he could break whatever these bonds were on him. Of course he'd have to recover enough that he could handle the movement without pain or risk of sensory overload before he could even test them. Hopefully that wouldn't be too long.

When it was gone, the glass was pulled away, and Peter licked his lips. "Thanks," he said quietly, figuring being rude wasn't going to do him any favors. And it did feel better, even if he didn't want to admit it aloud.

He heard a heavy sigh, and the footsteps retreated a few steps, although his tingling senses told him the man was still watching him. "Sure." There was a pause, and Peter thought he wasn't going to say anything else, so he decided to speak up again.

"I...uh, what's going on?" Wait, was that really the question he wanted to ask? The what was pretty obvious at this point. The more prudent questions… "I mean, why am I here? What do you want from me? Cause, uh, I mean, we don't have much money, and I-"

A soft, exasperated chuckle cut him off. "I don't want any money, kid. Lord knows I have enough of that."

"Then what…?" He was so confused, and the pounding in his head wasn't helping.

"I…" Another sigh. "Look, like I said, I don't want your money, and the most I want from you personally is to just behave yourself and preferably keep the screaming to a minimum. Not that there's anyone to hear but me, but I assume your head hurts bad enough already and it would suck for you if I had to gag you again." A pause, and Peter could guess he was thinking that he didn't really want him to make his head hurt as well. "Sorry about your head, by the way. I don't think you're concussed, especially since you woke up on your own so soon, but it still can't feel good."

"I…" What was he supposed to say? 'Oh, it's fine. No big deal. I get abducted like this everyday?' No, that definitely wasn't right. Bad enough he couldn't even remember exactly why his head hurt. Speaking of… "Uh, what did you do to me, exactly?"

"You don't remember?" He seemed surprised.

"Oh, uh, bits and pieces." He thought about telling him he remembered what he looked like, so the blindfold wasn't really necessary, but he doubted it would help his cause.

"Oh. Well. A combination of sedatives and a nasty bump," the man admitted. "But it'll clear out eventually. You'll be fine."

They lapsed into silence again for a moment. It was almost awkward. Peter couldn't help but wonder if this guy had any idea what he was doing. He cleared his throat after a few minutes, trying again. "So… I'm just supposed to… sit here? For how long?"

"For however long it takes."

"How long what takes?"

"Don't worry your curly little head about it. Just behave yourself and we won't have any issues." He could hear him standing, starting to walk away again.

He searched his aching head for something, anything to keep him there, to find out more information, but he couldn't think of anything before he heard the door open and close behind the man.

He was gone. Peter was alone.

If only he had the strength to do anything about it.

But he didn't. And like magic, the man had mentioned sedatives, and now that he was alone and quiet for more than a second, it was like he could feel them, and suddenly he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He simply let his head fall back and fell back into an unrestful sleep, unable and unwilling to fight it for long. Almost before he knew it, he was unconscious.