A/N: I am so surprised by all the support this fic has gotten so far! Almost seventy followers for three chapters? That's crazy! Thank you so much!

Also, just in case anyone is confused as to when this chapter starts, it picks up directly where the last chapter left off.

As always, enjoy!

Chapter 3

"Peter? What's wrong?" Tony asked. "Peter, come on, talk to me, bud."

Why should I? Why did he care, anyway? It was all his fault…

"Bruce, c'mere."

Bruce walked over from his seat by the door. "What is it?"

Bruce. Did Bruce have something to do with this? They never mentioned him, as far as I could remember, but that wasn't saying much. I decided that until further notice, I wasn't going to trust either of them. I was vulnerable when I trusted someone. After all, I had let Tony get me that soup, and look where that landed me! Flash backs, or teleportation, I still wasn't sure which, and the resurgence of all that pain… god, I was such an idiot. Smart people learned not to trust. But I didn't learn. Just add that to the list of issues.

"Peter?" Bruce said. "Can you hear me?"

I could, but why should I answer? I didn't have any good reason to. Actually, I had no reason to.

I pressed my back against the wall. There was nowhere else to go. The door was closed, Tony and Bruce were blocking my only exit, and there were no windows in the room. All I could do was put enough distance between myself and them to get my point across.

"Peter," Tony said. "what'd we do?"

Oh, there was a lot of things you did. I almost said a couple of them, but I couldn't let them know that I knew. That would destroy this whole thing. The charade would be over and it would be back to the dark room. Back to the constant pain and the hunger.

Hunger.

Now that I thought about, I was starving. But I'd made my decision. I'd rather starve to death than take something Tony or Bruce offered me. I wasn't crazy. According to my delirious mind, this was the right course of action. I was being smart. I was being safe.

Tony and Bruce went out into the hall for a moment. They were obviously talking about something they didn't want me to hear, but I heard just fine.

"What do you think we did?" Tony was asking.

"I'm not sure. It could have something to do with the panic attack he'd had the other night," Bruce replied thoughtfully.

"He seemed so scared of me. And I thought we were making progress!" Tony exclaimed.

"We'll figure this out, Tony. Don't worry. This is just a small setback. We'll get past it. Peter's a strong kid. He'll make it through this."

Huh. Okay, that changes a couple of things. Why are they so worried about me? They did this. It's not their problem. Yes, they caused it, but why should they have to worry about it? I'll be okay healing myself. I seem to do it exceptionally fast.

Tony and Bruce reentered the room and both sat down on my bed.

"Do you want something to eat?" Bruce asked as my stomach gave a mighty grumble. "You seem pretty hungry."

No. I wasn't going to eat anything these people offered. I wasn't stupid. I shook my head. "'s fine."

I was surprised at how slurred my words seemed. Just the other day I talked just fine, didn't I? What had changed?

Maybe Tony did something while I was under… that would make sense. Something that made it worse… I could see him doing that. Unfortunately, that meant sleep was out, too.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked. My damn back-stabbing stomach grumbled some more.

"Yeah."

Tony and Bruce shot each other a furtive look.

"Well, why don't you try to get some more sleep?" Bruce suggested.

"Not tired."

"Peter, you look like hell. You need sleep," Tony said.

"Not tired," I repeated, as firmly as I could. It didn't sound nearly as decisive as I would have liked.

Bruce sighed. "We're gonna have to sedate him."

Sedate? That didn't sound good. It was probably painful, too.

Sure enough, Bruce came back a few moments later with a very dangerous looking needle in tow.

"This should keep him out for a few hours. I made it specially for him, with his metabolism and all," Bruce said, more for Tony's benefit than his own.

"Peter," Tony said. "can you lay back on the pillows?"

I bit my lip. No, I don't think I will. I didn't know what sedating meant, but I gathered it meant something about sleeping. I was completely at Tony's mercy when I slept.

Bruce sighed and leaned over the bed. "Tony, hold his arm." He directed his words at me. "I'm sorry, Peter, but you need sleep."

I struggled against Tony's grip on my arm, but it was futile. In a few moments, Bruce inserted the needle into my arm and the effect was instantaneous. My eyelids began to droop, and I slumped against the wall. No matter how hard I fought, sleep was calling. And I went to it.

When I woke up, my mind was cloudy and my eyelids were heavy. Someone had laid me back against the pillows and my legs were twisted around the sheets. The room was dark, and Tony was sitting in a chair by the door. There was a tablet in his lap, but his head was lolled back and he was snoring slightly.

I was having a hard time staying awake. I looked at Tony, whose face was lit up eerily by his tablet. Any energy I had previously was just gone—I felt more exhausted than I had back in the dark room. Except for that one time when they gave me that glass of what looked like water—

And suddenly I didn't want to sleep anymore. The dark room was flashing before my eyes, flitting through my vision, like someone was flipping the lights on and off.

I shut my eyes tightly, but it only made it worse. The only thing I could see was the dark room… the shadowy figures… the plastic cup and the burning… oh, the burning…

I rubbed at my eyes, and eventually the images went away. I slumped, completely drained, and in a matter of time, I was asleep.

A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short, but I have big plans for what happens in the next chapter, so this is more of just a filler. I promise I'll have the next chapter out either tomorrow or Wednesday.