Summary: peter rogers x wanda dream scene aou-hydra torture 
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Peter stood behind his father as he eyed the two twins somewhat shyly. He didn't know either of the Maximoffs, but they had a few things in common. One, they were all orphans, technically Peter wasn’t anymore since his papa Steven Grant Rogers adopted him but you get the point. Two, they all were granted with abilities through HYDRA, and three, were dealing with Ultron. 

As for the big man, or robot himself, Ultron did the equivalent of a human rolling their eyes which Peter found really, really weird. Especially since Peter just watched in pure terror as said robot ripped off a guy’s arm. So yeah, Peter totally wasn’t freaking out. 

While Tony and Ultron exchanged some verbal banter, Peter still couldn’t rid his mind of Ultron’s past encounter. Bile crept up his throat and he couldn’t prevent the flinch as bone was pulled from it’s socket. And now to look at the same guy-robot in the eyes was definitely uncomfortable. And gross. 

Steve had sensed or as Peter dubbed, “papa bear senses” Peter’s distraught and placed a hand behind his back. The father rocked backward on his heels, causing Peter to shift his attention to the thumbs up sign that his papa was holding up. His papa’s hand then switched to a thumbs down, indirectly checking up on the boy to make sure that he was okay.  

Peter brought his father’s hand right in the middle as he wasn't panicking out of terror but at the same time not slap happy. 

Steve didn’t get a chance to reply to Peter because all of a sudden Ultron was fighting Tony which meant that once again the fighting had begun. 

While the adults handled the guys with guns, Peter went after the male Maximoff. As the teenager had predicted, the silver-tainted Maximoff took off, leaving a faint blue hue behind it. Which by the way interested Peter because if whatever serum he was given with turned his hair silver, and his alias was “Quicksilver”, then shouldn’t the streak that followed whenever he used his abilities also be silver? 

Unfortunately, Peter had to put his questions aside as he jut out his wrist, causing a web to stick to Pietro’s feet, stopping him right in his tracks. 

More confused than anything, Pietro came to an abrupt halt and turned to see what stopped him. 

Peter quipped as he thrust out another wrist and another web stuck to Pietro’s other foot, “Bet you didn’t see that one coming!”

What Peter failed to account for was a quiet lurking witch that somehow managed to slip past his spidey senses and cast a scarlet hex on him. 

Peter blinked at first as he suddenly felt dizzy. He took a few steps to try and shake whatever was happening to him off but, instead tripped over his feet and slipped to the ground. Every time Peter blinked he found himself somewhere else, somewhere that he never wanted to go back ever again. And before the teenage hero knew it, he was back down under. 

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes as he succumbed to an unfamiliar darkness.

Everything felt spacey. As the scene before Peter’s eyes began to unfold, Peter felt his heart get caught in his throat. No, he couldn’t be here! He couldn’t be! Steve rescued him from here! There was no way he could be back here again!

Peter felt chills roll down his spine as his back was pressed against a metal table, the feeling of hard cold concrete pressing against his soft flesh was too uncomfortably familiar. It was more than enough to make Peter swallow thickly as panic inched throughout his form. 

He choked the words out of his panicking frame, “What’s going on?”

He felt like he was choking as he moved his arms and legs but couldn’t do so with the restraints fastened just enough to repent his accelerated strength. The voice that has haunted him in the back of his mind for a decade was back in Peter’s head and he needed it out. 

“Well, well, well,” tsked the too familiar German accent, “why do you keep trying to refute HYDRA’s glory? We could’ve done so much to you, were it not for your traitorous parents, Richard and Mary. But traitors don’t get away with things here.” 

He tsked as he held up a blade for Peter to see, causing the teenager boy to freak out and thrash against restraints, “You see, cut one of HYDRA’s heads off, and two more shall take it’s place. Your parents cut one head off, but they never would’ve suspected what would rebirth from it. Now, you know the drill.” 

The blade was immediately plunged into Peter’s skin which provoked a scream out of Peter. 

The blade was withdrawn which encouraged another scream to tear through the teenager’s lips. 

Tears dribbled down the sides of Peter’s cheeks as he pleaded softly, “Please, just stop hurting me!” 

“And why would I do that?”

Peter felt sick to his stomach as the metal was once again thrust into his small frame, viciously tearing apart muscle and only stopping once it was drived against bone. Peter bit down on his lip so hard that a wet metallic taste flooded his mouth, much like the crimson colored liquid that seeped and spilt everywhere else. 

And with the snap of a the fingers, Peter was suddenly sitting upright in some form of chair, still with the restraints with the exception of a headpiece that kept him still unable to move at all. 

The cold metal enveloped him and mocked him. The tight, cold, element appeared to be laughing at Peter, finding it for some reason hilarious that Peter thought that he could forget all about this place. 

The man that Peter had loathed with every fiber in his being stood in front of him with a sickly expression ridden over his gaunt skin. He looked at Peter as if he were a piece of vermin, something unsatisfactory and deserving a quick, sinister death to end all else’s suffering.

Before Peter could even anticipate what was happening now, the man sent a harsh slap across Peter’s face, causing the boy to flinch. Peter tried to move his head back or bring a hand to the unwelcome stinging sensation of his cheek but his restraints prevented from doing either or. 

The accented man sneered in disgust as he spoke vehemently, “You brat! Rumlow says that you attacked him and the doctor. Do you know what happens to those who refuse to listen?”

If Peter could move his head he would’ve. Instead, he was stuck looking into the man’s eyes. He wanted to look away, he hated the fear that still lingered within him despite the torture being long over. Peter grunted as he moved to free himself only to not be able to budge at all. He needed out of here. Now. Whatever was happening couldn’t be real, at least now now. Yet it felt just as real as it did back then. 

The man administered another slap toward Peter, this time on the opposite cheek. He hissed, “Don’t you ever look at your superiors, you don’t deserve it! You don’t deserve to eat anything tonight. But what you do deserve, is this.” 

He cranked up the very same lever that had partaken in countless of Peter’s nightmares, and a voltage of electricity shot down from the headguard and spread all over the boy’s form. 

The man explained with a sinister smirk, “This allows the Winter Soldier to remain compliant. You won’t lose your memories, but this will hurt a great deal of amount however.” 

Peter screamed as electricity shocked his brain and rapidly shot down his body. His fingers curled into fists as another wave of electricity chased all over his body, leaving faint burn marks that trailed all over the boy’s skin. 

Another scream tore through Peter’s lips as his body jerked sharply in response to another round of electrocution. Peter panted for mercy, “Please, stop. I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want,” he begged as tears helplessly spilled down his pale bruised cheeks, “just stop hurting me.”

The man crossed his arms across his chest while he pretended to ponder Peter’s offer. He then cranked the lever again and spoke over Peter’s agonized screams, “I don’t negotiate with those who won’t listen to me. If only you listened, maybe then I would. Now, suffer.”

Peter screamed again. His lips harshly clamped down on each other and Peter bit his lip so hard blood filled his mouth. 

Just as the man was about to crank the god-awful lever again, Peter found himself somewhere else. 

Peter throwed his head back with a gasp as he found himself once again in a warehouse. His pupils were blown wide with terror as the boy’s hands refused to stop trembling. He had a distant look to his chocolate-colored irises, and he panted while trying to restore his breathing. 

Soft, warm calloused hands gently cupped Peter’s face as a voice that sounded spacey to the teenager asked, “Pete? You with me?”

Peter didn’t say anything as his mind continued to replay the horrors in his head. 

One of the warm hands that was on the teenager’s face moved to one of Peter’s hands and intertwined fingers with him. Peter felt the warmth of the hand ease his trembling, and move the hand to a uniformed chest protected by durable kevlar. 

The voice spoke again, this time louder and much more comprehensible, “Pete? Bear, are you with me?”

Peter threw himself around Steve’s neck and started bawling. 

Steve was slightly taken aback by the action, but nevertheless accepted his son’s weight in his arms. He guided Peter’s head to the crook of his neck while the other rubbed up and down motions on his son’s back. The hand that was pressed against his son’s head moved south to pull at Peter’s curls. 

“You’re okay,” Steve reassured, “you’re safe. You’re not there. You’re here in my arms.”

Peter whispered as he buried his head closer to his father, “It hurts so much. Make it stop, it hurts too much.” Peter pleaded as Steve felt his top material stain wet, “I’ll listen, I promise.” 

Then Steve understood. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head while consoling, “You already listen. So good, in fact. I know it hurts, but it’s going to go away. It’s not real this time. You’re not there.” He lifted the boy up as Tony spoke over the comms. 

Peter whispered, eyes closed from the memories that flooded his mind, “It feels so real.”

“I know,” said Steve, “but see, you’re here with me. Just breathe in and out, okay? Let’s get you to the Quinjet.”

Peter didn’t say anything, and if he did he didn’t have any memory nor idea of what he said. 

Steve kept a hand pressed against the back of Peter’s head, which kept the slightly shaking boy’s head tucked under the crook of his neck. The father pressed his lips against one of Peter’s while whispering soft soothes into the teenager’s ear. “You’re okay. Breathe in and out, we’re going to get you all warm and better, yeah? How’s that sound? We’re almost there, let me just check on Clint and Natasha.”

Peter mumbled incoherently, “What happened to them?”

Steve’s tone was kind and calming, “Natasha got mind warped like you did. Clint’s helping her wake up while I got my baby bear.”

Peter let out a hum in reply. He drifted away from reality back to his house of horrors within himself and only snapped back once he felt something warm and fuzzy drape over his small form. 

“Buddy?”

Peter blinked. He looked down and found himself on the floor of the Quinjet. He was hunched over himself, with his arms hugging his knees and his head pressed against the curve of his knee. He wasn’t aware of his labored breathing until he heard his own breathing rate and wondered if he was dying. Maybe he was. 

Soft and warm hands cupped his pale and cold face and tilted it upward, “Pete? Come back to me, please. What’s going on in there?”

“I can’t.” Peter’s voice sounded foreign, even to himself. He sounded quieter and empty, like the world’s weight had finally combusted onto his shoulders and this was the end of his agonizing suffering. “I’m stuck there.” 

Steve offered kindly as his thumb started tracing patterns on Peter’s cheeks, “That’s okay. How can we get unstuck? What’s keeping you there in that bad place?”

Peter’s voice reminded the teenager of a ghost, quiet and spacey, “I don’t know. I’m trying to get out but I’m stuck again. It’s as if I had always been there again. I got out of there, I know I did. But, no matter what I do he’s there and he’s hurting me in the same ways all over again and he just won’t stop!” 

Unconsciously, Peter’s eyes started to hurt and tears leaked down there. He spoke as his papa used his fingers to wipe his tears away, “Can you hold me, please?”

Steve softened with a nod, his baby blue eyes shined even more as his face made an expression that screamed protectiveness. “Of course.” He pulled Peter into his arms and rocked him back and forth as the boy cried against his dad’s chest. 

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head as he tightened his hold on his son, “You’re going to be okay. It’ll go away, I promise. I love you so much and I’m not going anywhere.”

Peter’s voice wavered as he asked softly, “Promise?”

Steve smiled down at the bundle in his arms, “Forever and always.”

A/N: omg hi!!!! How are you guys? Did y'all miss me? Looking over this, this is SO badly written and I'm so sorry for that. There will be two more oneshots until we say goodbye. Love y'all 3000!