Under My Skin

Avengers Tower

Three days after shooting

Peter

Peter didn't know what to do with himself or what to believe anymore.

Violet was his truest friend, through and through. His sister for all intents and purposes. The only thing that could destroy their friendship was one of them dying, which would have happened if Kilgrave was a better shot and if the Avengers hadn't shown up to rescue them.

Peter believed Violet when she told him about the awful things they've done. Things that have caused her life to spiral into oblivion and turn her into the jaded person she is today. He believed her fear and reasons for trying to run away from them. He too believed that they were bad people. Why else would they burn his building down when tenants were still inside? Why would they burn it in the first place? Sure, the place was falling apart, and his neighbors weren't exactly nice, but it was a better situation than rushing through morning traffic from Queens to his school and work. It was also better than the studio apartment Violet convinced him to move out after she found a cockroach attempting to take residence in his ear while he was sleeping.

The point is it could be a lot worse. The Avengers were worse than a cockroach infested apartment. Peter knows that. His mind gave him a whole list of reasons to not trust them, primarily fueled by Violet's reliable word and experiences. He knows he needs to stay away from them as much as he can and help Violet get the pair of them out of here. He knows all of that.

But then he thinks about The Avengers actions over the past few days. He vaguely remembers the looks of shock on James and Natasha's faces when he shouted what Kilgrave had done to Violet. He remembers Happy talking to him in his abrasive yet assuring way to calm Peter down as they fought the storm and got him to safety. He remembers watching James carry Violet, how lifeless and small she appeared in his arms, and felt awed by the intense determination on the man's face. He remembered the way Tony held him as he helped him to his room, stripping him down and placing him in the bath where the water both warmed and aroused him.

He remembered Tony taking care of him. Getting him everything he needed, doing everything he needed, except for things they didn't talk about previously. Peter recognized that. He fed him granola bars and juice, talked with him in order to ease through the process. Provided a constant, calming presence for Peter throughout the ordeal, playing Violet's role to a T.

Most importantly, he didn't break his promise.

Peter felt like he was at a standstill. His brain knows he should not get involved with the mafia or any of their drama. His brain also knows that getting away from them at this point is a pipedream, especially for Violet in her current condition. Peter might be smart as a whip, but when it comes to stuff like this (rescue missions, escape rooms, pranks, scare tactics, etc.) Violet took control and made everything work. When shit hits the fan, she always kept her cool no matter how much she was freaking out internally. But Violet was unconscious, meaning she couldn't help and unintentionally caused more of a problem for Peter because he would have to find a way to safely transport her without the Avengers knowing. His brain knows all of this.

His heart doesn't.

His heart keeps pushing him to remember the things he's seen the Avengers do. Pushing him to remember how Tony treated him during his heat. How James and Natasha protected and cared for Violet after she was shot. How he felt when he and Tony were alone together. How he felt safe, cared for, and taken seriously despite his shy nature. How invigorating it was to talk to someone on an intellectual level who could reciprocate and add to his theories, configure his experiments, and refine his ideas. Most of all, his heart kept reminding him of one important thing.

He genuinely liked Tony.

If it wasn't for this whole mafia mess, along with Violet's past and justified hatred for The Avengers, Peter could easily picture himself just falling at the man's feet and happily fawning over him for the rest of his life. But those things were in the way, and Peter couldn't just forget them even if he wanted too. He felt for Violet and was there for her to the end, but he felt for Tony too in a very different way. Violet was family, and Tony was . . . Peter didn't know. There was a part of him that didn't want to know.

Since he came out of his heat, Peter has made a point of avoiding everyone and keeping to himself. The only person he's said more than a few sentences too was FRIDAY, who he'd been talking to on and off since he began his self-exile. She's checked on Violet for him, even displayed videos of her sleeping in the Med Bay. She stopped showing him the live feed when he tried forcing his way down there. Terrified at how pale and vulnerable she was. All he could think was how she'd flat out refuse to leave him open and exposed in such a weakened state if their situations were reversed.

He couldn't leave her like that.

Sadly, Tony and Mr. Rogers ("Kid, I'm not a kid's show host. Call me Steve.") stopped him and kept him from the med bay. Tony tried coaxing him towards the kitchen for some dinner, but Peter refused and returned to his room. If they wouldn't let him see Violet, then he wouldn't see anyone at all. Then he fled to his room and locked the door. That was the day he emerged from his heat, the second day they've been here.

Since then he's taken residence in his closet and played solitaire with a pack of cards he found in a desk drawer. He was currently on game 345, winning 233 games. He was losing this one. FRIDAY's tried coaxing him out on Tony's behalf, mostly with ploys of food and spending time in the lab, even offering a Star Wars movie marathon but Peter didn't budge.

In this whole mess, there was only one thing Peter knew he wanted above everything else. He wanted Violet to be okay. He was content with confining himself to the closet and playing endless amounts of solitaire until he could see her.

Unfortunately, not everyone was as content with his solitude as he was. Surprisingly, the person who eventually forced there into his room wasn't Tony. It wasn't any of the Avengers either.

It was Frank.

It midway through day 3, and Peter was losing game 345 of solitaire when there was a heavy knocking on the door. It was more forceful than the previous knocks over the past two days, less subtle and gentle. The person knocking held no compunctions for Peter gentle nature, which left him feeling very uneasy. He remained in the closet, thinking if he stayed very still than the newcomer would leave him in peace, like Dr. Grant versus the T-Rex in the first Jurassic Park movie.

No such luck.

The knock returned, this time louder and harder. Wood splintering hard. Peter thought he heard the door crack under the knocks.

"Kid, if you don't open up, I'm breaking the door." Frank's gruff, harsh voice burst through.

Peter's eyes widened, recognizing that voice. Frank was a scary dude. Terminator meets Mind Flayer scary. Peter never knew why Violet's Dad was so close to him. With all the stories he's heard about her dad, the dude was a freaking patron saint. Frank Castle was the underbelly of good deeds, the guy that makes the hard choices and does what needs to be done versus what is right. He unnerved Peter, kept him on his toes and ready to bolt at any second.

Which is why Peter jumped to his feet and immediately scrambled to open the bedroom door the second he realized Frank was waiting on him.

Frank cocked his eyebrow at Peter as the door swung open. Peter tried to put on a brave face, but there was no point. Frank could tell he was faking, and with him it was best to be honest and open. With that in mind, Peter stood in front of the Punisher panting like an out of shape jogger and eyes so wide they nearly popped out of his skull like a looney tune cartoon.

Frank nodded towards the bed, "take a seat. We need to talk."

Peter responded diligently, nodding as he hastily moved to sit cross-legged at the edge of his bed. Frank slowly lumbered his way in, pushing the door open a bit more while surveying the room. Peter guessed it was a force of habit. Peter didn't have anything that could even begin to hurt the Punisher, and Frank knew that. Once he was satisfied, Frank took a spot next to Peter on the edge of the bed, his arms leaning on the tops of his thighs, fingers loosely interlocking as the hung between his legs.

"There's not much in the world I care about Peter," Frank started, glaring at the wall ahead of them instead of looking at Peter. "I had my wife, my stubborn boy, my baby girl," his voice broke at that, "and I had my two best friends. Billy and Scott. You remember them?"

Peter nodded, "Scott was Violet's Dad, and Billy was her half-brother."

Frank's hands clenched slightly, "and what do they all have in common?"

Peter trembled, "they're all dead."

"That's right. They're all dead. Every one of them. My family was murdered by gangs and thugs who thought they could get away with it. Billy was murdered because he was an idiot who thought he could get away with ripping off the people who gave him everything he ever wanted. And Scott died doing what he loved, getting lost in the clouds." Frank grunted, shaking his head slightly, "what else do they have in common?"

Peter breathed in a shaky breath, "I don't know sir."

"They, we, all loved Violet. She was just Brea then though." He finally glanced at Peter, "she ever tell you that?"

Peter quickly nodded, and Frank looked away. "Good, that'll make this easier."

"Make what easier? Sir?" Peter quickly added the last part, not wanting to offend the intimidating monster of a man sitting next to him.

"Getting you to convince Violet that she needs to go with Buck and Widow." Frank replied brusquely.

Peter stared at Frank in shock, eyes popping once more, body tensed in fear. "W-Why? And who's Buck and Widow?"

"James Barnes and Natasha Romanoff. Buck is James' nickname, but Steve and I are the only ones who get to call him that anymore. The Black Widow was Natasha's call sign for her past . . . career."

"Okay, but why-"

"How long has Violet been on the streets, Peter?" Frank asked, cocking his head towards the trembling Omega.

"I . . . I don't know," Peter answered in a small voice.

"3 years, 4 months, and 17 days as of today," Frank growled. "During that time, how often has Violet slept on a bed of her own?"

Peter bit his bottom lip to stop it from shaking, "not even close to that number?"

"You're damn right," Frank grunted. "How many times has she stayed the night in your home, or any of her friends' homes?"

"Not enough," Peter responded sadly.

"Right again," Frank nodded his approval. "How many times has she ended up in the hospital for broken bones and other injuries because she got into a fight?"

"Too many to count," Peter whispered, holding back his scared tears.

Frank's face twitched, "I know you were in heat that time, but tell me what you remember about Buck and Widow's reactions when you told them Violet was hurt."

Peter forced himself to take a deep calming breath. Closing his eyes and turning to face away from Frank before speaking once more. "They froze. It was like there was no emotion on their faces."

"Did they try to go for Kilgrave?"

"No, they went for the door. The one I pointed to when I told them what happened."

"The one where Violet was?" Frank stated, and Peter nodded quickly. "When Kilgrave was handled, what did they do?"

"They tried waking her up, put pressure on her wound. James carried to the car, and again when we reached the tower. He looked so intense, determined. It was amazing." Peter whispered, lost in the memory for a quick moment. "Natasha was the same way."

"FRIDAY showed you some videos of Violet while she's been recovering, right?"

"You know about that?"

Frank nodded, "I've had a live feed since Stark gave me a room to park in until Violet wakes up. How much did you watch?"

"Not much, FRIDAY won't let me watch it anymore."

"Can't handle the thought of seeing her weak, huh?"

"Alone," Peter responded firmly, showing the first ounce of bravery he had since Frank knocked on his door. "All I could think was if I was in Violet's position, and she were in mine, there's no way in Hell she'd allow me to be down there by myself in a such a vulnerable position without her there to protect me. I need to do the same for her, but I keep getting stopped."

Frank smirked at that, "I don't know where that girl gets her fire. Scott had his passions but never like this. Her mother was a drug addict that never wanted her or anyone, just pleasure and ignorance. Damn shame." Frank rubbed his head in frustration, "do you get what I'm telling you, Peter?"

"I know what you're telling me, but I'm not doing it." Peter gritted his teeth, tensing his body in what little preparation he had for any possible threats from the Punisher.

Frank wasn't surprised, "she finally told you about what they did to Billy?"

Peter bobbed his head, "why aren't you trying to kill them? You said yourself he was your best friend!"

"I owe them a debt, Peter. They found the ones responsible for my family's murder and kept the police off my back until I was done and hiding in the shadows."

"And the Agent Madani you brought in, the one who tried infiltrating the tower, wasn't enough to make up for it?"

"They gave me a purpose, a direction to go in when I was floundering and lost. That's what Violet needs."

Peter stood from the bed, forgetting his fears and facing The Punisher head on.

"No! Violet is terrified of them, of what they will do to her, to us. So many Omegas she's come across, so many terrible stories of what's happened to them. Violet doesn't want that for us. To be another pair of Omegas seeking help in the oddest of places and miraculously finding one of the last decent people in New York." He took a deep breath, rubbing his face amidst his own frustration. "Violet has a direction to go in, and that's away from those who mean to hurt her, to hurt us-"

"They hurt you, did they?" Frank faced him, looking Peter dead in the eyes as he challenged him. "Did they tie you up against your will? Did Stark force you to moan and talk about how much you wanted his dick up your ass? Did he push down into bed and make you beg Let me cum, Alpha. Please let me cum?" Disgust colored Frank's expression while Peter blanched with cold embarrassment. "Oh yeah, kid. I saw the whole thing. Didn't expect it out of you, but you always did surprise me."

Peter was frozen. Couldn't move, couldn't blink, he could barely breathe.

"Violet has every reason to be afraid of them. She's been through a lot, seen a lot, and she's come out stronger because of it. She lives with her pain every day, and she ignores it just as much so people like you can be taken care of."

Frank stood suddenly, towering over Peter like the God of War staring down at an insignificant insect. He walked towards Peter, who quickly backed away until he hit a wall. Then Frank trapped him with his arms and locked eyes with him once more.

"I don't like you, Peter. I think you're weak, a snowflake holding on by a thread and seconds from melting away. Violet protects you, looks out for you because she doesn't want you to be jaded like her. I get it, but I don't like it. Her protecting you these past few weeks have led her to near fatal ends more than once, and I won't have it anymore." Frank growled, freezing an already frozen Peter to his core. "I know you two love each other, brother and sister to the end of the line and all that bullshit but think about what happened the other night. How close she got to dying because she was protecting you."

Peter hadn't thought of it like that. Was it his fault? Was he the reason she was shot?

"Look at me," Frank commanded, and Peter followed, "You want to do right by her?"

Through unmoving lips, Peter replied, "Yes, sir."

"I don't care how you do it but convince her to go with Buck and Widow. They'll keep her safe, get her the help she needs, protect her from the world and from those she never has to meet. I know she won't like it, but I trust they'll treat her right. Just like Stark will treat you right." Peter went paler at his comment. "If you really care about her, you'll do this."

Peter was focusing on breathing, trying to calm his wild, wild brain with everything that was happening when FRIDAY's voice reverberated through the overhead speakers.

"Mr. Castle?"

"Yeah FRI?"

"Per your request, I'm informing you on Violet's hourly status."

Frank's brows scrunched together in confusion, "that's not for another twenty minutes."

"Well, seeing as Violet just woke up, I believe that takes precedence over the time limit."

Both men moved to stare at the speaker before facing one another.

"Now or never kid," Frank growled before grabbing Peter's elbow and dragging the stunned Omega out of his room.

Med Bay

Violet

Violet had the worst luck of anyone alive. Either that, or she really pissed off the wrong deity at some point during her 18, soon to be 19 years. Why else would she wake up with a bullet wound in her left side incapacitating her, wearing only a hospital gown from the looks of it, and being towered over by The Black Widow and The Winter Soldier.

Fuck!

Violet did the first thing that came to her mind. She clenched her fist and tried punching The Black Widow in the face. She screamed too but that wasn't by choice.

Needless to say, the punch did not work. Both towering figures grabbed Violet's wrists before she could do any damage and forced her back to the bed. She struggled beneath their hold, ignoring The Winter Soldier's attempts of assuring her with phrases like "it's alright," "you're safe," "no one's going to hurt you," and some minor shushing in between. Natasha was yelling for Bruce, who Violet vaguely recalled was Dr. Banner . . . the same guy she tased however long ago. Definitely not looking forward to that. She tried breaking their hold, or at least sliding her hands from their firm grips, but it was no use. She tried kicking them, which did something but not in her favor.

The Soldier released his hold on her wrist only for The Black Widow to take it and force her wrists together. The Winter Soldier grabbed her ankles and repeated the process. Violet's screams escalated, knowing it was useless but unwilling to just lay there and let them treat her like a fucking doll. No way!

The screams eventually included a whole range of expletives, and by then The Black Widow had enough. She placed her wrists in a surprisingly strong grip for someone with her demure looking hands, and placed the other over Violet's mouth, silencing her verbal assault on the Alphas. It didn't stop her struggles though, only intensified them.

"Violet," The Widow spoke with authority, but Violet wasn't listening. She tried wrenching her head around to remove the hand from her mouth to no avail.

"Violet," The Widow commanded, her tone taking on a darker, more direct venture that compelled Violet to look at her with wide eyes, "Relax."

Violet's eyes widened as her body instantly followed The Widow's instructions. Her struggles weakened considerably, limbs going lax beneath their hold, but Violet's heart still beat out of her chest, breath coming incredibly fast as she stared into the burnt sienna of The Black Widow's eyes. The Widow smiled down at her before appraising the wound in her left side.

"Shit," she mumbled, glancing at the Soldier before leaning towards Violet once more. "Stay still," she commanded in that awful tone once more, and Violet was compelled to follow it once more.

Didn't stop her from glaring at the pair though.

The Soldier released her legs, quickly moving to stand next to the Widow. Violet took a count of her body and was relieved to find she still had all her limbs, and none of them were crushed to death misery style. That would have sucked. Just as much as the prodding the fucking assassin was doing to her side right now. Thanks to the Widow's command using her "Alpha Voice", Violet couldn't move very much. She tried looking at her side, the area where she was shot that was getting special attention, but she didn't see much. Except for a little bit of blood. She must have ripped her stitches.

Didn't explain the worry in their eyes. Why would they be worried? Guess they didn't want her damaged before they shoved her into their harem to endure God knows what. She only hoped that Peter-

Oh God! Peter!

"Bruce!" The Widow shouted, auburn hair whipping around her face. Violet looked around and saw Dr. Banner approaching. She tried desperately to move, to run away, but the Alpha tone still affected her body and made it impossible to do so. The doctor did not look kindly to Violet but was gentle all the same when he pushed The Widow out of the way to life the bandages and inspect her wound.

Everyone, including Violet, waited with bated breath for his prognosis.

"She's okay, no tears from what I can see. Just some residual fluids from the sudden adrenaline boost." He walked to the bedside table and pulled out some medical stuff that Violet vaguely recognized. A bottle of alcohol (not the drinkable kind), gauze, medical tape, and a different type of gauze used to help protect the wounded area from infection.

He handed the supplies to The Soldier, "you want to do the honors? The Other guy is not a fan of her right now."

The Soldier grabbed the supplies with ease, glancing at Natasha before releasing her legs and quickly moving to her side. Dr. Banner left with a jerky nod, eyes turning bottle green as he left the room just as quickly as he arrived. Good, less people to deal with. Violet willed her body to move, to fight the Alpha's order with all her might. It was hard, but not impossible. The more she fought it the easier it became, but not soon enough.

The Soldier, Violet had to admit, was quick and impeccable with the dressings. It was done with what felt like seconds. Sadly, that wasn't really good for Violet. With the attention off her wounds and back to her, fighting them off suddenly went from hopeless to a pipedream. Still, she tried. If she were an uncaring bystander, she'd think the whole display was rather pitiful. That's how much of an impact she was making.

Eventually, Violet just closed her eyes and tried desperately to tune them out. Maybe if she didn't see them then this wouldn't be happening? A childish notion but Violet was out of options. She couldn't launch a verbal assault because the Widow had her had over her mouth. She couldn't fight back very well because of The Widow's Alpha tone and because it was two on one.

To put it in layman terms, Violet was fucked.

"Don't shut your eyes," The Widow practically cooed from above her, "I want to see them."

Now Violet definitely isn't opening her eyes.

"Don't make me use my Alpha tone on you again."

. . . Well fuck.

Violet grunted in frustration, then slowly opened her lids to glare at the Widow.

She smiled at Violet, "there they are."

Violet growled beneath the Widow's hand, causing her smile to grow.

"Welcome home Violet," The Soldier murmured, looking at Violet like she was some precious treasure or something. "It's time we finally talked.