"Mr. Stark, no!" Peter protested, attempting to fight his way out of the hands of his captors. His wrist and neck were bound with chains that made Peter feel weak, and every time one of the men pulled on a chain, Peter was forced to go in that direction. He was only in his jeans, a small mercy but it still made Peter thank his lucky stars, and his shoes had been thrown somewhere along with his backpack.

"Peter!" Mr. Stark yelled, fighting against his own chains that trapped him to the wall, "Get your hands off of him!"

"Oh, Stark-" Man number one chuckled- "You are in no place to be making demands right now."

Mr. Stark growled, but stopped as he turned his eyes to Peter. Fierce determination was aimed at the teen, and for a second, just a second, Peter stopped struggling. "It's okay, Pete. Help is coming."

"Right," Man numbed one stayed dryly, "Help isn't coming. Try not to lie to the kid. False hope will make everything worse in the long run." The man turned his head to the people holding Peter down, "Put him in the box."

"What bo-" Peter chokes as the men restraining him force him into a glass box that had risen from the floor while they were distracted. The chains are taken off, only leaving the metal cuffs themselves, and he's shoved into the box before he can defend himself or catch his ground. Peter groaned, rubbing his neck when he felt the… the collar shift around it. He opens his eyes, and his breath hitches as process what he sees.

Nothing. He sees nothing. It's pitch black. Peter tried to put his hand in front of his face, and he still can't even manage to see that.

He lets out a terrified gasp, and is driven into more of a panic when he realized that he couldn't even here his own voice. The collar must have done something, and Peter hopes that it can be reversed when (if… if they got out, a little part of Peter's mind whispers) they got out. He realizes that the box he was in was meant to be a sensory deprivation chamber.

Peter was almost ashamed to admit that it was working.

He stumbled into his feet, "No, no, no, please. Not this."

No this because Peter was suddenly in his own world. A world of silence and void. A world of nothing. The darkness reminded Peter if the warehouse, and the silence reminded him of the dark days that he had just after Ben died. The days of suffocating loneliness and depression. Of numbness and self loathing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Peter took three steps forward with his arms out, "Mr. St-" He screamed as electricity traveled up his wrists to the rest of his body. The pain felt a hundred times worse than what it normally would be because two of his main senses were MIA.

It felt like an hour had passed until the pain stopped, leaving Peter to breathe ragged gasps of pain that he couldn't hear on the ground. "Please, help-" he tried after taking a minute to regain control of his breathing, but released another scream as electricity spread throughout his being. He felt the back of his head hit the ground, and blood drip out of his mouth as he bit his tongue.

'Stop!' Peter wanted to yell, 'Please, stop! It hurts!' But the only thing he could do was wait out the constant pain.

It seemed endless.

And yet Peter just wanted it to end.

•••

Tony fought against the chains around his wrist, knowing that they'd be raw, but not caring because they had Peter. They had Peter, and they had just thrown him into the box like an animal. Like that wasn't the kindest boy in the world they had just trapped.

"Why did you throw him in there?" Tony growled at the man.

The man just chuckled, "Oh you'll see, Stark. You'll see."

Tony watched intently as Peter got up with a groan. He watched, confusion growing as he saw panic dawn on Peter's face. "No, no, no, please. Not this-" Peter stammered, continuing to mutter our jumbled words that Tony couldn't make out.

"What did you do?" Tony hissed. "What did you do to him?!

The man smirked, and looked from Tony, to Peter, and then back to Tony. "That box-" He made a wide gesture to the box that held a still panicking Peter- "is one of the best sensory deprivation tanks ever made. That boy can't see anything but darkness, and the color restricts all noise he might make. Every single wall in the box is sound absorbent."

That sounded like the exact opposite of what Peter thrived in. Peter was noise. People talking and laughing while walking around. He had grown up in the loud city. Tony remembered the time where Peter explained that he needed music to fall asleep because he was just so used to noise that the absence of it made him anxious. Tony had no idea what was going through the kid's genius mind of his at the moment. Going from hearing more than the normal person to hearing nothing must have been terrifying.

"Let him go," Tony whispered, eyes stuck on the form of Peter's trembling figure, "Let him go! He has nothing to do with any of this!"

The man frowned, obviously deciding that it was finally time to start whatever 'business' he had originally planned, "Where is Thor?"

"What?" Tony asked, caught off guard by the question. He had expected weapons, money, or even old SHIELD documents. Not the whereabouts on an actual God.

Apparently, the man didn't like Tony's answer all that much, because he pressed a single button on a small, sleek remote he had hidden in the palm of his hand. Tony's eyes snapped from the man to Peter.

Peter who was now screaming and writhing in pain on the ground of the box. The sound that Peter was releasing was haunting, and Tony had no doubt that the sound (and the sight) would haunt him for months to come. It was a sound that Tony never imagined coming out of Peter- so pained and tortured.

"No, Pe- stop it! Stop hurting him!" Tony shouted at the man as he strained against his bonds.

The button was released, and Peter lay still on the ground. The only reassurance Tony had that the kid wasn't dead, was the ragged breaths Peter was managing out. "Then tell me where Thor is," The Man ordered once again.

"I swear, I don't know," Tony answered, praying to whoever was listening that the man would believe him. Honestly, Tony didn't know where the God was. He had arrived at the compound six weeks ago with Loki (although the public didn't know that detail yet), a Valkyrie that went by the name Brunnhilde, and Bruce. Then, about three weeks ago, Tony had woken up to the notification that Thor was going to go handle something with his people.

Thing is, Tony didn't know where Thor's 'people' were.

"Wrong answer," The man answered, pressing the button on that damn remote again. Tony squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of Peter's scream.

"Stop it," Tony whispered, cursing himself for how weak he sounded. "Stop it! You'll kill him!" He repeated louder.

The man's frown deepened. He let go of the button, and squinted his eyes at Peter, "Some kid, you got… Impressive, but not as impressive as what I want. So I'll ask again-" He raised hi finger over the button again- "Where. Is. Thor?"

"I told you," Tony ground out, hating himself for what was coming next, "I don't know. Why do you want to know anyway?"

"Because I want that hammer. Once I get it, I'll be worthy of the title as King! I'll be a God!" The man admitted with a shiver inducing cackle, "Anyone… everyone who has ever wronged me! They will beg and plead for mercy, and I won't give it to them. Everyone will worship me! I'll be a king!"

Tony gapped at the man, trying to process the crazy answer, "You're delusional."

"No," The man growled, "I'm a visionary."

He pressed the button again.

•••

When Rhodey crashes his way into the room, blasting down the delusional man in anger, Tony only has his sights set on one person.

Peter.

"Tones," Rhodey starts, "Hey, I got you-"

"Peter," Tony cuts him off. He could apologize later, right now his kid was collapsed in that damn box, and the last time he had been shocked there was no scream.

"Rhodey," Brunnhilde cut in, "The child."

Tony's friend turns and his eyes widen at the sight of Peter, "Oh my God… Get him out of there."

"No, don't," Tony objected, "That's a sensory deprivement box, and you know how his senses are. What did you get here with?"

"One of the Quinjets," Rhodey answered, realization dawning on his face. "I'll go get his mask." His friend finished getting him out of the cuffs, gave him one last once over, and then rushed out of the room. Even he knew how Peter would react to everything coming back at once. It wasn't rocket science.

Tony scrambled to the box in the middle of the room, ignoring Brunnhilde's looks. He put a hand on the glass, right next to where Peter's head was resting. The kid's face as pale and gleaming with sweat. Tony could see the small tremors the kid had, and the raw skin under the cuffs on his wrist. "Don't worry, Kid," Tony whispered even though he knew Peter couldn't hear him, "We're getting you out."

Brunnhilde put a reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder. "You're going to be okay, Pete. You're going to be fine."

AN: Hey people, just an update to let you know that this series is officially one day behind. Other than that, everything is going great. I auditioned for my school musical and did okay.

Up next? Day Seven: Imprisoned.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to favorite, follow, review, and all that fun stuff. Until next time!