A/N:- This drabble was written for QuinnAstaire, she kept prodding me to try and make me write a Pietro fic and, several bruises later, here it is. Yay me!
Disclaimer:- Blah Blah! Don't own...blah blah...wish I did...
Pietro's Panic
Pietro Maximoff stared around wildly, his breath came in short sharp bursts and his heartrate, always fast, was beating so quickly it felt as though it were going to burst through his chest.
His white hair was tousled and his long streamlined bangs hung in disarray over his face, sweat ran freely down his face and made his clothes stick to him.
As a child his worst nightmare had been that his legs were encased in treacle and he couldn't move, couldn't run. And now it had happened…..ok, not the treacle thing…but he couldn't run, he was trapped and immobile.
"Help me," his voice came out as a rasp, his throat parched and dry.
Just then the door to the room opened, Pietro turned his head to look at the newcomer.
"It's your own fault, yo." The nasal voice of Toad sounded from the doorway, he had a wicked smile on his face as he hopped into the room. "You were the one who decided to run that stupid race against the blue idiot. He can teleport, not matter how fast you run you should've known you weren't going to win."
"Toad," Pietro sighed in relief. "You've got to help me, tell them to let me go."
"You're not in prison."
Pietro gave a short bark of laughter.
"Well, you're not." Toad looked confused at Pietro's reaction.
"I can't run, I'm trapped. I can't even walk." Pietro had to swallow several times to quell the rising panic.
"Duh." Toad's voice was sarcastic as he pulled back Pietro's bedclothes and pointed at his right leg which was encased in plaster.
Pietro moaned aloud at the sight of the damaged appendage, his worst nightmare come true, a broken leg.