#muffled scream

Peter knew he could take them out easily, but he wasn’t in his suit and he couldn’t put Morgan in any more danger than she already was. “Why would Gargan send us here?”  Peter knew that name, it was one of the criminals who’d been on the Ferry. Last he had heard, he got a life sentence. There were five years left unaccounted, Peter hadn’t taken the time to revise his knowledge on the whereabouts of past felons he’d faced. “Guess we’ll find out.” “The guy doesn’t have to be so cryptic.”  “He pays our bills.” Not-Mark (Peter had to call him something) snapped, “So, shut your mouth, and look around.” Peter knew they were closest to his room, and like an idiot, he’d left the suit on his floor in plain view. In his defence, it was rare that someone entered the apartment that didn’t know his secret. “Hey!” Mark screamed; Peter’s stomach dropped, “Look what I found!” “Bingo.” Peter’s leg involuntarily jerked back, kicking the wall, “Shit.”  The bandits charged around, guns raised, they skidded to a halt. Not-Mark smirked as he jerked his gun towards Peter,  “Hey there.”  “Sorry…” Peter took a step forward, “I think you’ve got the wrong apartment.” Not-Mark raised an eyebrow, and sneered, “I don’t think we do.”  Mark tossed Peter his suit, he caught it in a single swoop, that seemed like a dumb move, “And what does this prove?”  “Pretty quick reflexes you’ve got there, kid.” Not-Mark complimented, “What are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?” “Seventeen.” “Still a kid.” He pointed out, “Can’t imagine you’ve been through shit like this before.” Peter shrugged, half-heartedly, “Rough neighbourhood.” “You don’t seem scared.” Peter let out a long breath, “Of you?” Not-Mark turned his head to the side to conceal his smile, “Give up the act, Spider-Man. We know it’s you.” Peter laughed humorlessly, “You think I’m Spider-Man?” He squeezed the suit in his hand, “This is a cosplay.”  “Pretty accurate cosplay.” Mark praised. “Thank you.” Peter quipped, “I’m committed.” “Gargan didn’t send us here for a costume.”   “Doesn’t sound like he sent you with intelligible instructions,” Peter muttered under his breath but he could tell by the anger in their eyes, that they heard him. A quiet whimper echoed from the cupboard, and Peter couldn’t help himself, his head snapped to look. Worry for his sister pushing against his chest, making it hard to breathe. For a split second, Peter’s sixth sense was off-kilter So, he didn’t notice Mark’s finger pull back on the trigger.  He didn’t realise until the bullet hit his shoulder and his senses were forced to catch up. Morgan screamed. It was muted, behind the door, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Fuck.” Peter cursed as the floor beneath him soften and he collapsed to his knees. “Petey!” Morgan bellowed as she slapped the palm of her hand against the door. Non-Mark advanced towards the cupboard, “We’ve got company.” “You touch her and I’ll kill you.” Peter’s threat was laced with venom. He was surprised. No, he was terrified that he meant it. Spider-Man didn’t kill, but Peter Parker might if someone dared lay a finger on Morgan Stark. He pressed down on his web-shooter, catching Non-Mark’s wrist, and trapping him against the wall. He did the same with Mark, securing him against the opposite wall.  Non-Mark, even in defeat, grinned, “Gotcha, Spidey.” Peter weakly got up onto his legs as he ignored the pain in his shoulder, “No, you don’t.” He rushed to the cupboard, he pulled it open and hurried inside, slamming it shut behind. He knew they wouldn’t be able to escape the webbing but he wasn’t letting Morgan bear them. His vision blurred and he collapsed in a heap next to his sister,  “Petey…” Morgan bounced up. At first, he thought she was going for a hug, but instead, she pressed her hand against the wound. He was impressed, but also disheartened, that she’d seen him injured so many times, that she’d grown accustomed.  “Hey…” Peter mumbled, "Thank you, Morgs.” He winced, he bit his lip to distract himself.  Morgan choked out a sob, “I’m sorry.” “No, it’s not your fault.” Her shoulders trembled as she cried, “I don’t wanna hurt you.” “You’re not hurting me.” He reassured her, “You’re helping.”  “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He brushed a hand through her hair, “I’m proud of you.”  The familiar sound of the thrusters echoed outside the cupboard, followed by three all-too-familiar voices; Tony, Pepper and Rhodey.  Peter reclined his head back as he sighed in relief, “Finally.” He waited until the noise died down before calling out, “Hey, we’re in here!”  The door was yanked open, at considerable force, it was a shock the hinges didn’t break. Tony fell to his knees in front of them, no longer in his suit, “Hey….” Peter glared at him, jokingly, “What time do you call this?” Tony rolled his eyes as he placed a hand on Morgan’s back, “Traffic was a nightmare.” He leaned over to look at Peter’s injury, “Let’s take a look, hey?” Morgan shook her head and shuffled away. Peter nudged her chin, “Hey.” He cooed, she looked at him, “It’s okay, Munchkin.” Morgan released his arm, and Tony moved close to investigate. Pepper rushed into view, panic etched across her face, “Morgan!” “Mummy!” Morgan jumped to her legs and crashed into Pepper’s open arms. Pepper picked her up, she let out a startled yelp, “Honey, are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” “It’s just mine.” Peter called up, “No biggy.” Pepper looked at him, with wide-eyes, she shook her head at his self-deprecation.  “No biggy, my arse.” Tony scoffed, “But it’s a clean shot.” He pushed curls out of Peter’s eyes, “You’ll live.” “Oh, no.” Peter mocked; Tony narrowed his eyes in disappointment, “So, did you get them?” “We got them.” Tony looked to the broken window, “Well, Rhodey’s taken them in.”  Peter swallowed the dread in his throat, “They know who I am.” “I know.” Tony gently tapped Peter’s cheek in a repetitive motion, “Trust me, they’re not gonna talk.” He jumped to his feet,  “Come on then, let’s get to the medbay, Spider-Man.” Peter flopped against the wall and shot Tony a mischievous smile, “Carry me.” Tony let out a heavy sigh as he bent down, scooping Peter up into his arms, “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“You’re such a dork.” You laugh, burying your face in his chest. Zane chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “But I love you.” You add, muffled by his striped hoodie. “Can we watch a movie?” You move back enough to look at him. He nods his head, smiling down at you.