Part 6 of the one shot series where beck tortures Peter, yeah that one. Just curious, a) u guys aren't confused as to which one shot chapters r for the series right? Each chapter for the series is titled "Take Me Home Where I Can Sing and Drown". B) are you guys liking the one shot series?

+ tissues are highly recommended :) cause the angst is realer than the tea. I also suggest rereading  part 5, the one before "We Are Venom". :)
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Peter tried to fight the darkness that threatened to consume him, wanting nothing more than to get the hell away from Beck, but found his eyes fluttering open every few moments to reveal himself back in the same hellhole for God knows how long. 

Peter didn’t even realize Beck was choking him until he felt a strangled pressure form on his neck as he began to cough and splutter, and the next thing he knew, it suddenly became incredibly hard to think. 

Peter weakly called out, “Please, stop.” 

Beck merely chuckled, eyes flickering dangerously as he replied, “Peter, I’m disappointed, you don’t know me by now? Every time you try to harass me, I will hurt you. Luckily, this was the first time that you were rude to me, so I’ll let it slide, just this once, of course.” 

Peter felt himself suffocating, and for a good few seconds think that this is it, this is the end, when the hand that was tightened around his slim neck suddenly removes itself, leaving a terrified Peter to fall onto the floor. 

The instant stream of oxygen that surges through his blood vessels is well welcomed as Peter heavily pants, and cast his eyes down to not anger Beck any further. Beck bent down, extending a firm finger under Peter’s chin, forcing the wrecked teenager to look into his eyes, “That Peter, was only a taste of what would happen should you talk to me like that every again. Understand?”

Peter resisted the urge to scratch the area behind the metal where Beck’s fingerprints linger replying, “Yes.”

Beck cocked a brow, raising a hand causing Peter to flinch. And to remember. 

“Yes, sir.”

Beck chuckled, “There it is. Now onto the rest of the day’s activities.”

Peter’s face fell into an expression one would find on a kicked puppy, he sighed, wishing that he would be left alone. He’d take anything over this, hell he was ready to jump headfirst into death if it meant that he’d never see Beck ever again. Speaking of death, he wasn’t sure how long he could take it here, his body was weak, metabolism useless, and if anything, advancing him further to meeting his maker. 

A harsh slap that left his grime-riddled skin brought him back from his daydreaming, forcing a small gasp to escape Peter’s thin pink lips as he craned his head up to look at a sinister smirk on the face of Quentin Beck. 

Beck made no sound, instead, striking Peter again, hard enough that it sends Peter’s small frame slamming against the wall where he was cowering. Peter made no move, too captivated in fear as Beck knelt down to his level, and punched Peter straight in the gut, not once or twice, but what Peter counted to be at least ten times. A grunt escaped Peter’s mouth each time Beck’s fists came into contact with Peter’s flesh, and Peter swore he saw blood pool around him, shutting his eyes tightly as he waited for the torture to be over. 

The torture was deemed over after three hours of Beck using Peter as a punching bag, leaving the teen slumped near unconsiousness in a puddle of his own cherry-colored blood. Beck is half-way out the door when he turned around speaking, “Peter, if you try and fall asleep, I will electrocute you, understand?” 

Peter’s too weak and tired to even process Beck’s threat, as he the room in front of him began to spin. His arms are littered with bruises and probably infected cuts that he can thank his super healing for, but that still didn’t take away the pain in his bones from the metal harshly cutting along it. His toes feel abnormally dry and dirty, as if he walked through a puddle of mud and his soles still spill flakes of scarlet liquid every time he attempted to force weight onto them. 

His eyes bore straight ahead into an empty vastness, contemplating what he should do next. 

Try and escape?

Yeah and get choked to death, I don’t think so. 

But death is better than spending one more minute with Beck. 

Surely someone’s looking for you Peter, someone has to be. Dad wouldn’t let you die like this.

Bold of you to assume that Dad would let you die.

I’m scared Peter. 

I know.

His thoughts continued in circles, debating whether or not someone would eventually turn up looking for him, or if he should try and evade Beck’s clutches. He had no power, he was completely at Beck’s mercy, and he hated it. 

His eyes flickered shut for a few moments, and he found himself smiling under the rays of the sun as he walked next to Ned, who was trying to lick a Spiderman ice cream that was half-melted. 

Peter chuckled as Ned brought the ice cream to his lips and bit down on the area of the mask’s chin, “You really had to right? Out of all the ice cream selections, you picked Spiderman? I don’t know if I should be flattered, or be freaked out by the way you’re licking me.” 

Ned chuckled, “Well Peter, I got to show my support for my favorite friendly neighborhood vigilante-slash-Avenger. Besides, it tastes better than your Spongebob one.”

Peter’s face mocked betrayal, “Where I’m from, Spongebob is the superiorist of everyone else. Except Patrick, Patrick’s my role model.” 

Ned rolled his eyes laughing, “Isn’t he everyone’s? What project are you and your dad working on now?”

Peter bit into his ice cream replying, “Well, I’m trying to convince Dad to remove Instant Kill Mode. I’m fifteen, what the hell am I going to need that for? I stand up for the little guy, and the occasional sadistic attempt of multidimensional domination. Y’know, fun stuff. 

Ned rolled his eyes, “Only you would find the 2018 invasion fun. At least the Avengers were able to beat Thanos together. Imagine if you guys were separated, we might have lost.”

Peter nodded solemnly, “Imagine Thanos winning? And half of the entire universe’s population turning to ash? That’d be traumatic.”

Peter jolted from his memory as static raced through his veins causing his body to seize. The itching feeling left as quickly as it came, leaving Peter panting for breath. He rubbed the bags under his eyes, which he could feel all the way to his upper cheeks as he looked around wildly for a plausible explanation of what had just happened. 

Beck’s voice came out in a taunting warning, “I told you Peter, if you fall asleep, I’ll be forced to shock you. That was just a warning dose, next time won’t be as bad. Sweet dreams.”

Peter didn’t bother from his position, too weak to get out of his blood-stained clothes and quite frankly, too scared to even move. 

He was scared to blink, because Beck might electrocute him again, and Peter didn’t want to be electrocuted. He hated the way jolts sizzled beneath his skin, like an itch that he just couldn’t scratch, and continued to only increase the more it was ignored. 

Peter wanted nothing more to shut his eyes closed and slip into a deep dark abyss where no one, not even Beck could hurt him. He didn’t feel safe in his dreams at all, but he didn’t have to consiousally deal with a consious Beck that was most likely scheming on what the next form of torture Peter would experience. 

A harsh stinging sensation rocketed through his body reminded him of what would happen if he let his eyes flutter closed for a moment longer than what was considered a blink. 

Peter groaned, this was going to be a long night. 

...

S

o while Beck was enjoying what would be one of his last drinks, a hunched Peter Stark who was hugging his knees tried to fight the sleepiness that he wanted to evade into, but the paralyzing fear of consequence kept him awake. 

He rocked himself back and forth, trying to think of anything except for how tired he was, but he had to strain his muscles to keep himself upright, or he would have passed out from exhaustion. 

Peter’s hold on his knees tightened as the air suddenly became more chilly, and he pressed his chattering teeth against his thighs, trying to generate heat through friction, but all that happened was the temperature decreased. 

Peter internally groaned, wishing he could pry the damn collar off him, but every attempt at doing so resulted in a yelp tearing from his dry, cracked lips. 

He leaned against the wall, and began to pick at his fingernails, his dry, blood-stained fingernails which had guilt riddling each crevice of his skin. Peter looked at his thin, frail hands in disgust, they were so dirty and thin, he looked around him, he looked like a freak. 

Beck’s words echoed in his mind, “You’re nothing but a freak, Stark. And don’t you forget it.” 

He harshly shoved Peter against the metal table that restrained him from the freedom that Peter desperately craved, “That’s your place, freak.” He raised a hand and smacked it against Peter’s cheek, and spat, “And that’s all you’ll ever be, you’re not worth the gum on my shoes.” He sent a fist covered in brass knuckles into Peter’s chest, face contorting into one of disgust, “You’re just a weakling, a pathetic, stupid weakling who is so worthless, that his own father and all his resources can’t find. I wonder, can’t find, or won’t bother looking for?”

Peter mustered as much of a hateful glare he could muster, “That’s not true. I have somebody who cares about me, unlike you!”

Beck sneered, “Oh, you want to be like that you disgusting brat? Well I wonder who decides if you live or die tonight. Not God, certaintly not Tony Stark, me. Have fun in the dark you quim.” Beck snapped the lights off, leaving a terrified Peter subject to the beatings Beck had in store for him. 

A crackle of electricity danced across Peter’s already burnt, and bleeded-out skin, causing him to scream with a startle as his eyes worriedly darted around the room. He flinched, waiting for the voice of Beck to come over the speaker he must have somewhere lying around, but was met with mere silence. His stomach began to churn as Peter could feel his Spider Senses scream louder than it had in days. 

He forced his eyes to widen as he tried to stay alert, searching for some hidden threat he hadn’t picked up before, but found nothing. Peter shook his head and began to whisper to himself, “There’s nothing there Peter, you’re losing your mind. Breathe Peter, you’re going to have a panic attack if you don’t.” 

Peter’s glaze intensified trying to find what was making his senses go haywire, causing Peter to scream into the small, freezing room, “STOP PANICKING GOD DAMN IT!” Peter immediately burst into coughs from his aching throat that was more accustomed to screaming than whispering. 

And just like that, the most powerful jolt of electricity crackled against the metal that dug into Peter’s already burned skin as it shot through his nerves like the adrenaline he wished would’ve instead through his skin, tearing a wretched scream from his pale, bruised, bloodied lips as his heart seized and everything went dark. 

A/N: Well that was dark, literally. So, how are you guys? Y'all nightcore is awesome, but songs slowed down? It's awesome. There's this YouTube channel called strnger diaries and they're slowed down songs are epic! And btw watch Frozen II, at first I was dreading it but I'm actually really glad I did. It really completed the arcs of literally every single character, did some traditional Infinity War stuff and into the unknown is the new let it go. :)