Chapter Text
*Snap*
Danger. Get out!
Pain. Absolute pain. The pain of every atom in his body simultaneously ripping apart and healing back together. He looks around, watching those he knows and loves turn to dust around him. They look confused, no indication that they’re experiencing the same world-ending agony that he is. They have no healing factor. Not like Peter Parker.
“Oh, I should be so lucky.”
His body fights to keep him alive. Fights with everything he has. The pain stretches for eternity, making him wholly unaware of his surroundings. He might be rambling, speaking some unknown words, he doesn’t know. And then everything, all that pain, was for nothing. He feels his body lose the battle as everything begins to fade, one small whisper escaping from his lips.
“I’m sorry. ” The words choke in his throat, and he’s gone.
-
Peter wakes up to the chill of rain splattering against his face. Opening his eyes, he takes a deep breath and is immediately hit with an intense pain flashing through his body. A groan escapes his lips as he rolls himself over. God, it felt like he was crushed under a building. No, worse. He’s been under a building before, this was decidedly worse.
Taking another breath, he holds it as he pushes through the pain and sits up. He’s half-lying in an alleyway surrounded by garbage and what looks like used needles, broken here and there. The walls stink of old piss and there’s a faint chemical smell to the air. Gunshots ring out everywhere, paired with faint shouts and screams. All in all, it’s quite possibly the worst place on the planet, wherever here is…
He placed his hand against the admittedly disgusting wall to use his stickiness to pull himself the rest of the way up. But he found no purchase and fell back to the ground with a thump.
Ok, weird fluke, he doesn’t remember ever having an issue controlling his sticky powers. At least he can’t think of a time he’s ever had an issue. Everything feels muddled, maybe he had a concussion?
He tunes into his spidey sense, feeling slightly more exposed now. Only no familiar awareness greeted him.
Ok, now he’s starting to panic. He takes stock of himself and notes the slightly blurred vision, the lack of city sounds that would normally be pounding into his skull, and a tightness to his chest he faintly recalls having with asthma.
His breathing picks up, fear pulsing through him. He’s in an unknown and obviously, dangerous location with apparently none of his spider powers. He wouldn’t be able to defend himself. He wouldn’t be able to fight.
His heart thumping in his throat, Peter stands himself up on shaking legs and stumbles to the mouth of the alley. Finding a newspaper stand with a shattered face, he pulls out a slightly damp paper.
Gotham, New Jersey.
Oh, he is in the worst place in the world. How the fuck did he end up in Jersey ?? Really, what the fuck was going on.
Turning down the mostly unlit street, he began making his way, barely keeping himself upright. He just wanted to get to the outskirts of the city as fast as possible. To get away from whatever fresh hell he was in.
He stuck to the shadows as much as possible, trying to stay unnoticed from the few other people he saw on the street. The rain continued to soak him through, and he shivered, hugging his arms in front of him for warmth.
He was wearing unfamiliar clothing, but nothing out of the ordinary: a science pun T-shirt, jeans, and some basic black sneakers. He’s confused, the last thing he remembers wearing was … was something. It was his, he was sure. He was wearing his suit? Why was everything so fuzzy?
He was with people. Like a lot of people. He knows he knew them, their faces coming to his mind just blurred enough to not quite be able to put his finger on it. They had been in danger. He had been in pain. But as hard as he tried, it just felt like he couldn’t make the full connection in his brain. Like all the pieces were there, he just couldn’t drag them together. Nothing was making sense.
And ok yeah, to be fair, he really wasn’t at the top of his game at the moment. Peter was so deep in his internal musings that he barely registered the sound of a car driving behind him before something was thrown over his head, and his world went dark with a prick to his neck.
-
He awoke to darkness and a jostling as he lay in an awkward position on what felt like a metal floor. Something was still over his head, obscuring his vision. His hands had been tied behind his back, and his ankles were connected by something, a rope maybe.
Swallowing the fear in his throat, he listened around him, noticing faint whimpers and shuffling. It felt like he was in a vehicle of some sort, and he could feel other people’s arms and legs against him on the ground. Someone was talking a little bit away from him, and he struggled to make out the words over the rumbling of the road.
“...there shortly, 16 captured, 100 total… next phase … tonight. … again tomorrow for the … bracket.”
Ok, so that doesn’t sound all that good. Peter tugs fruitlessly against his restraints, ultimately giving up and just trying to get into a more comfortable position.
He feels the vehicle make a turn onto what has to be the most pothole-filled street in the country. He hears surprised gasps and even a few muffled screams as they bounce along, but the stretch of road doesn’t last for long.
The vehicle stops, and the engine cuts out. What’s left is an oppressive silence as he and everyone around him wait with bated breath, unsure of what is to follow.
The sound of boot falls echoes against his head on the ground.
“Get up.”
The words were enunciated loudly and clearly with no emotion. Silence hung heavily around them, and Peter could feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest.
“NOW!”
Peter scrambled to his knees as he heard others do the same. The ties on his ankles had enough give to allow him to rise to his feet, albeit somewhat awkwardly. He felt other people pushing up against him and started walking with the flow as barked orders were given around them.
He heard gasps and small screams coming from ahead of him and barely had time to think about it before his foot fell on empty space, and he lurched forward with a gasp of his own. Hands caught him around his midsection and placed him on the ground.
Oh, they must have just disembarked a bus of some kind. A bus without seats, which is weird, but there are certainly more important things to worry about right now.
Shouts directed them forward and corralled them together. They stood there for only a moment before the floor groaned, and they began a slow descent in some sort of elevator.
Once they stopped, everyone was once again pushed forward into what seemed to be a more open space based on the echo of their steps. Huddled together, armed men and women began making their way through the crowd, taking off the hoods of each person.
When Peter’s hood was removed, he squinted and blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the bright overhead lights shining down on them. They were in some sort of cavern, clearly underground from the chilled, damp air.
Looking around at the small group he was in, he saw kids his age, ranging from maybe 12 years old to 16 or 17. Definitely no one that looked like they were old enough to be out of school at least.
He felt a sinking pit in his stomach. Just what had he gotten himself into? He woke up confused, disoriented, without his powers, and was almost immediately abducted by what? A child trafficking organization?
The kids all looked to be as scared as he felt; he felt a young girl next to him trembling slightly and heard more than one sniffling as silent tears streaked down their faces. They were all closed off, looking down at the ground and shuffling themselves, unsure of what to do.
In a moment of defiance and anger, he raised his chin and watched as a stern-looking woman walked out on the podium in front of them. She was tall, thin, and had straight, coarse, grey hair that ended at her shoulders. Her gaze held a cold and calculating weight to them.
Her eyes flitted across the gaggle of children, and her gaze settled briefly on Peter, the only one looking up at her, with a slight twitch of the mouth.
“Welcome children, to where the future will begin.” Her voice rang out clear and cold. “You will be the saviors of mankind, and for that, we are honored by your presence.”
And as Peter watched her signal to the guards around them, he couldn’t help but think he was oh so royally fucked.