Parley Oneshots

Kidnapped!

Request by Starwars_Rules1215 

TW: kidnapping and torture

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

"Darlin'? You awake?" Harley asked, his voice overflowing with concern. Peter just groaned in response. "C'mon sweetheart, talk to me." The brunette managed to lift his head enough to face Harley. The taller boy gasped, Peter looked miserable. One eye was swollen shut, his body was covered in awful bruises and cuts, and he was terribly malnourished. His arms were tied tightly behind his back, the multiple needle marks in his arm worrying Harley.

" 'm fine," Peter slurred, his head tipping back down. Harley loved his boyfriend, but sometimes his selflessness got frustrating. They had gotten kidnapped a few days ago, and given a choice every time their kidnapper came to visit them. One of them gets beaten. The other gets food and water. And every time, Peter sacrificed himself so Harley could eat.

But Harley wasn't sure how much more of this Peter could take.

There was the problem of dehydration. Peter desperately needed water. He would certainly die soon if he didn't get any. There was also the matter of food, especially with that enhanced metabolism of his. And of course, the violent beatings Peter was taking for Harley's sake. The blond has no idea what they did to him during said beatings, but each time, Peter came back weaker, and more broken.

"Peter," Harley called softly. "Darlin', you gotta let me take the next beating. I'll be ok, I promise. You need to eat." Peter looked at the taller boy defiantly, a look of determination on his bloody and bruised features.

"No. I have advanced healing, you don't. I can take it." He had the same argument every time, and Harley was sick of it.

"Peter. You'll die if you don't eat. I can take it, just this once, please," he pleaded desperately.

"No." Harley frowned. Peter was too stubborn to argue with.

A few hours later, their kidnapper came down, the familiar ski mask hiding the man's identify from the two teens.

"Who's coming with me?" He boomed, a malicious grin visible from a hole in the mask. Harley opened his mouth to volunteer, but Peter beat him to it. Again.

"Me," he offered weakly.

"No, no! Take me instead, please, take me!" Harley cried, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The man had already grabbed Peter by his wrists, and was dragging the half-conscious teen away for what seemed like the hundredth time since they got there. Harley sat there uselessly, tied to his chair. He wept quietly, knowing Peter couldn't last much longer in his current state.

"Hey kid." The kidnapper's buddy was much kinder. Every time Peter was taken, the other man came in, and sat and watched Harley as he ate. He untied the blond's wrists, handing him a paper plate full of food and a glass of water. Harley ate slowly, biding his time. Once about 5 minutes had passed, he gripped the glass tightly, quickly smashing it over the man's head. The man fell down dizzily, giving Harley the perfect opportunity to grab the handgun from his belt. He aimed it at the man, placing his finger on the trigger.

"Wait, wait! Please don't shoot!" Harley frowned, keeping the gun aimed at the man's head.

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Please, I'm not like the rest of them. I never wanted to hurt anybody, please believe me!" The man cried.

"If I let you live, you gotta promise to help us escape." The man nodded fervently. "I need your help. My boyfriend, Peter, is... being tortured." Harley shivered. "You will do exactly what I tell you to if you want to live..."

~

Peter screamed as his arm was broken. He felt each individual bone crack, the intense wave of pain knocking him down. He felt weak, drained of his own life force. There was blood trickling from a gash on his forehead, his head pounding with a concussion. Peter couldn't remember much of what has happened... but it wasn't over. He heard voices, but they sounded muffled, like the adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons he watched as a kid. He let out a small laugh at this realization, his hazy brain having already forgotten about his torture session.

The voices were getting closer, and Peter was able to make out a few words.

"... escaped... find him... finish up..." Escaped? Did Harley find a way out of here? Peter smiled victoriously. Even if he gets killed, Harley would be ok, and that was good enough for Peter. The brunette felt a pang of sadness that the taller boy had left him behind to die in this place, but maybe it was for the best. Peter would just slow them down.

A man appeared at his side, the teen flinching violently. Much to his surprise, he was untied from the table, and helped to his feet. Peter grimaced when he put weight on his injured leg. The man silently picked him up bridal style, carrying Peter out a door to a hallway. There he saw a familiar face.

"Harls?" Peter wondered, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Hey, darlin', you alright?"

"Mhm," the brunette mumbled. He felt himself get passed into Harley's arms, the strange man giving him directions.

"Take two lefts, a right, then go straight. There should be a large door at the end, that's how you get out of here. Now go, I'll distract them."

"Thank you." The man nodded, running off in the direction they came from. Harley wasted no time, carrying Peter down the hallway until they reached the door. They slipped outside quietly, the blond breathing a sigh of relief. That is, until Peter went limp in his arms.

"Peter?!" Harley whisper yelled, worry laced in his tone. "No, no, just hold on a little longer darlin'."

part 2 coming next!

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