Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter excitedly jogged away from his school, a smile tugging his lips. It was finally Friday, he had a weekend of tinkering at the lab with Mr Stark, homework, and patrolling. 

He found a grimy alleyway, the unique smells made the insides of Peter’s nose ach uncomfortably. He went deep into the alleyway, stuck his backpack on a wall, and changed into his Spiderman suit in record time. 

The boy’s smile bloomed into a wide grin as Karen greeted him. 

“Hello Peter, how was school,” Karen asked once his mask was fully placed. 

Peter playfully rolled his eyes, knowing that Karen would record his answer and send it to Mr Stark, “It was fine. I aced my chemistry test.” Peter tried to sound monotone as he said that but he was bursting from the inside, he studied so much he felt a small part of his brain implode. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Karen responded, sounding like she was smiling. 

Peter climbed to the top of an apartment building. At the roof he admired Queens as it bustled with energy. 

“Karen,” Peter cracked his knuckles, hoping he looked as cool as he thought he did, “How much time do we have until we have to be home?”

“Since your aunt has requested you come home at 6:45pm, I say we have nearly three hours until you need to come home, however since your aunt won't come home until 7:10m, she won’t know if you are a few minutes late,” Karen’s stated, sounding sly and the end. 

“Thanks Karen,” Peter beamed, he taught his AI well. 

The patrol was quite productive. He stopped an attempted robbery of a corner store, he saved a cat from a tree, he saved a person that was getting attacked by a dog and he saved a little kid’s balloon. All too soon seven o’clock rolled around and he swung so fast home he thought his arms were going to pop right out of his sockets. 

When he got home it was 7:03pm. By the time he changed and got cleaned it was 7:05pm. Peter cleaned the kitchen, washing the dishes that had been there since morning, cleaning some random bread crumbs and milk spills, and making sure they had all the ingredients to make some sort of edible dinner. 

Then Peter waited. He scrolled through social media, snorting as a video of him saving the cat but nearly getting scratched to death in the process got millions of views. 

He double checked to make sure the kitchen was clean and then started to make the living room tidy. He straight out the couches and coffee table, wiping away all ring stains. And he waited some more. 

7:10 became 7:20 then way too soon became 7:35 and all of a sudden Peter was sitting on the couch with a rumbling stomach at 7:56. 

She is probably had to do a last minute double shift, Peter reasoned, even though May always texted him if that happens, I should make dinner so when she does come she has something to eat. 

Peter beamed at himself, knowing that May would appreciate the action. At 8:03 Peter got out the ingredients to make Fettuccine Alfredo. At 8:07pm was when his phone rang. 

Peter just finished boiling the pasta. He drained the noodles and was about to start melting butter when his phone rang. He put down his room temperature butter (just like the recipe called for) and turned off the stove. He got his phone and saw the hospital May works at was calling. His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. 

May’s phone must have died and now she is calling with the hospital phone, he reasoned once more, but couldn’t help feel like that wasn’t the case. 

“Hello?” Peter answered the phone. 

“Peter? It's Rodney, I’m one of the nurses your aunt worked with,” Rodney sounded upset and Peter couldn’t help but notice he said “worked” instead of “works”. 

It must be human error of  speech, Peter thought. 

“Um hey, can I help you with something?” A friendly way of saying “why are you talking to me?”.

“Um Peter,” Rodney sighed, “This is about your aunt, umm could you come to the hospital? I can’t say this over the phone.”

Peter’s eyes blew wide, “Why?! What happened?! Is she okay?!” He was already grabbing his keys and wallet, swiftly exiting the house. 

“Just come to the hospital, okay? I’ll be waiting in the lobby.” 

And with no other word, Rodney hung up. Peter silently cursed Rodney and he ran onto the street, hailing a cab. Soon a cab pulled up beside the very frantic Peter. Peter basically crashed into the passenger seat. The driver was a tall, 60 year old man, who was quite round near the stomach and had a long and puffy beard. 

“Hello, my name is Victor, where would you like me to take you-” Victor introduced himself.

“Hi!” Peter interrupted his spiel, and gave the address to the hospital. 

Victor drove to the hospital, talking about his daughter’s wedding and how many grandkids he wants, but Peter wasn’t paying attention. He was staring longingly at the window, itching to see his aunt. 

By the time they reached the hospital, Peter was hyperventilating in his seat. 

“I hope you enjoyed this ride. A tip is-” Victor was interrupted once more with Peter throwing cash at him, saying a quick thanks, and exited the vehicle. 

He ran into the hospital and almost ripped the doors from the hinges and ran into a male nurse. 

“Peter?” the nurse guessed. 

Peter grabbed his shoulders in a bruising grip, “Rodney. Where. Is. My. Aunt.”

Rodney lightly held onto Peter’s shoulders, “How about you sit down,”

Before Peter could protest, Rodney put his hand on his back and led him to a less crowded area of the hospital, making Peter sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair that was fading in colour. 

“Rodney, please. What happened?” Peter begged. 

Rodney took a deep breath, rubbing his goatee, “I’m so so sorry Peter. Your aunt, May,-” Rodney sobs, “during her shift, she had a heart attack and,” another deep breath, “didn’t make it.”

Peter screams. 

Chapter Text

The world stops for Peter. Everyone else seems fine, some people might  be having a good day, maybe even a great day, and they all have no idea one of the greatest humans has passed. 

He refuses to believe it. 

The shock of hearing those words rock through his body, sending ripples of sorrow everywhere. Rodney was saying something but Peter didn’t understand. He felt his ears ring. But it really wasn’t a typical ring. It sounded more like a scream that never stopped to take a breath. 

Oh, Peter realises, that's me screaming. 

He shuts his mouth, not because he was screaming, but because he was afraid if he keeps it open any longer he’ll vomit. 

Everything comes back to fast, the beeping of a monitor, the sanitizer odour, the harsh lights, the burnt taste on his tongue, everything.

He looks up, staring at Rodney, the nurse was still saying something but Peter couldn’t hear him. All he can hear are five words. 

Your aunt didn’t make it. 

“Rodney,” Peter crocked, his throat dry from screaming, “I want to see her, please.”

The nurse nodded, helping Peter stand. He held Peter by the crook of his elbow and carefully guided Peter. As they walked, Peter shrunk in on himself. 

Finally they stopped walking and were outside of a room. 

“Peter,” Rodney whispered, “Your aunt is in this room…. Just prepare yourself.”

Peter nodded before hesitantly opening the door. He half expected for his aunt to be there, standing, alive and well, asking how his day was. But instead he was greeted with her on a bed, a thin white blanket on top of her. 

He slowly walked over to the bed, and lifted the blanket. May layed there. Her eyes were closed and her face was smooth of any stress. Her skin was paler than usual but she looks so…. peaceful. 

Peter cradled May, as if she will disappear from his arms. He cried and shouted in an almost inhuman way. 

“May!” Peter sobbed, “May-y! Pl-ea-ase!”

He cried until his tears ran dry and his face was flushed. 

He felt nurses pulling him away and guiding him back to the lobby. He felt like a ghost, letting the wind just do what it wanted him to do. Soon they left him and he was alone with his thoughts. He sat down, brought his legs to his chest and hugged them.

What was the last thing I said to her? 

Why her?

When was the last time I told her I loved her?

I don’t deserve to live.

I never even told her I was Spiderman.

He felt a warm hand on his knee and he looked up. He was greeted by a middle aged woman with a black Hijab tightly woven around her hair and neck, she was kneeling to be at eye level with the teenager.  

“Hello Peter,” the woman had a soft voice, “My name is Doctor Sarah and I am a cardiologist.”

Peter nodded in a greeting, not needing to introduce himself. 

“I was the doctor that tried to save your aunt,” Dr Sarah looked down in- guilt?, “I’m so sorry Peter, I really tried.” She looked like she was on the verge of crying. 

Huh, Peter thought, I never really thought that doctors hold the weight of a patient's death on their chest. 

“It is okay,” Peter mumbled, bringing his eyes down, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Dr Sarah gave a sad smile, “She passed away due to a spasm of the coronary artery. Which can occur due to high levels of stress,”

Oh, she was stressed. 

She was stressed because of me. 

“Anyways” she sighs tiredly, “Your social worker, Piper Campbell, is here to talk to you.”

A tall, young woman with her long black hair tied in a high ponytail, who was a few feet away from the doctor, waved. 

Another simple nod from Peter who kept his eyes down for most of the conversation. 

Dr Sarah gave another smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “I truly am sorry Peter. I- I wish you best of luck during this difficult time.”

Peter looked up at her, “Thank you,” he whispered. 

Dr Sarah gave one last smile before she walked away, grabbing some papers from a nurse and saying something about cholesterol levels. 

The women- Piper- stepped forward and sat beside Peter. 

“Hello Peter,” Piper stopped, waiting for a response and got a quiet greeting from Peter, “I’m truly sorry for your loss,”

Peter nodded.

Piper sighed, obviously hoping for Peter to engage in a conversation.

Piper got some papers from her briefcase, “It says here that now your legal guardian is-” Piper brought the papers closer to her face and squinted, “Tony Stark?”

Peter nodded, smiling a little as he remembered that day. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked while they worked in the lab, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure kiddo,” Tony smiled and put his tools down, looking at Peter. 

“Um…. ifanythinghappenstoMaycouldyoubemylegalgardian?” Peter blurted.

Tony looked at him with an expression Peter couldn’t really decipher. 

“Uhh Pete? Maybe slower.” Tony responded after several awkward moments.

Peter sheepishly smiled, “May asked me to ask you, if anything happens to her, would you be my legal guardian?”

Tony smiled from ear to ear, “It would be an honour! Where do I sign?”

Peter’s smile quickly vanished, something did happen to May. He hugged his knees closer, trying to keep more tears from spilling down his face. 

“Ummm,” Piper finally continued, “Do you mind calling this Tony Stark?”

Peter nodded, stumbling to grab his phone. He finally got a hold of it and scrolled through his contacts. May was the first in his contacts, he wanted to call her, maybe she’ll answer. He shook his head to banish the foolish thought. He continued to scroll until he reached Tony Stark. He pressed the call button hastily, pressing it to his ear as he prayed to any god willing to listen that Tony would answer. 

*

Tony could not take a breath.

These past four months have been crazy, after Peter rejected Tony’s offer to be an Avenger, Tony has been working to bring the Avengers back together. 

The first month, Tony finally made the Accords so it will fit everyone's beliefs. Ross finally got off his back and all the Avengers signed it.

The second month was chaotic. 

Rhodey left for multiple back to back missions after he got better at using his leg braces.

Vision left to find himself. He claimed that since Tony made him, he has the same beliefs as Tony so he wants to be his own man… or android. He left Wanda, kissing her goodbye as he explained how important it was for him to be alone. Reluctantly, Wanda agreed.

Sam left to continue to be a therapist. Tony was quite happy with his absence. 

Scott left to be with his family. (Tony wouldn’t use “Left” because Tony never really invited to live in the Tower.)

T’Challa obviously went back to Wakanda to fulfil his duties as king. He also took Bucky along, to freeze him until science could figure out a cure. 

So that left Natasha, Clint, Steve and Wanda all in the Tower. 

Soon after T’Challa left, Fury sent the five of them to take out the last known Hydra base. Tony was ready for it to be incredibly awkward, but instead they fell into their old routine. With Clint and Tony making jokes, Natasha telling them to shut it, Captain telling them to focus and Wanda’s scary silence and her comments. It felt good to have his old team mates (dare he say friends) back. 

By the third month, Tony was happy. He could now easily talk to any of them, sometimes they would all watch a movie or train together. 

He was so happy he called Peter to invite him over to the lab for some tinkering. Tony really thought Peter was going to explode with happiness. 

By the ending of the fourth month, they have become extremely close. Every weekend Peter would tinker with Tony or sometimes they would watch a movie. 

Of course the Avengers knew about Peter, they were just under the impression that Peter was Tony’s personal assistant. 

And of course the Avengers knew about Spiderman. But they thought he was at least in his twenties, and Tony reassured them that he checked on the vigilant weekly. 

-

Tony was going to be productive. He just didn’t want to. He listened to his “Work Playlist”, but as the last song played he realised he finished the playlist without getting any work done. 

So he turned off the music and tried to work but it was too quiet. He asked FRIDAY to turn on some soft instrumental music, but that was annoying. One thing led to another and soon he was playing catch with DUM-E. 

Around 10:30 pm he got a call. 

“Mini Boss is calling you,” Friday said. 

“Put him through, FRI” Tony replied, “Hey Pete! Are you calling about tomorrow?”

“Hi Mr Stark,” Peter replied hoarsely.

Tony pursed his lips. Something was up.

“Everything okay bud?” 

There were some sounds in reply, it sounded like the phone was moving from one person to another.  

“Hello Mr Stark?” A female voice, not Peter's.

“Um yeah?” Tony waved his hand at DUM-E to tell not to throw the balled up paper back at him. 

He heard the woman gasp before clearing her throat, “Mr Stark, it seems that you are Peter’s legal guardian now.”

“What?” Tony asked. He glared at DUM-E when the robot threw the paper at his head.

“Peter’s aunt has passed away,” The woman said. 

“I’m coming,” Tony hung up the phone and made his way to the garage. 

*

Piper paced back and forth anxiously, while Peter just sat there. Peter stared at the clock, watching as the seconds tick away. The hospital was noisy but in a comforting way. Peter would focus on the sounds instead of the grief eating him from the inside. 

The hospital door flung open as the very frantic Tony Stark jogged into the building. A few people gasped at the sight but mostly everyone was too busy to pay attention to him. 

Tony looked around, finally seeing Peter curled up in his seat. He walked up to the boy, he was about to sit beside him but a lady stopped him.

“Piper Campbell, Peter’s social worker,” the lady- Piper- stook at her hand for him to shake it. 

Tony shook it, “Tony Stark.”

Piper smiled before pulling papers out of her briefcase, “According to these documents, May has appointed you as Peter’s legal guardian. And it seems you have agreed,” She points to his signature at the bottom of the page, “Were you aware of this?”

Tony nodded, “Of course,”

Piper nodded, talked a bit more, although Tony didn't pay attention at all. Finally Piper wished him the best of luck, only getting a nod from the man.

Finally, Tony can talk to Peter.

Chapter Text

Tony lost track of how long he sat there with Peter. He waited for Peter to say something to him, anything, but the boy just sat there, curled into himself. Peter was pale, with his eyes were just staring at the floor. 

Tony had to do something. 

But what?

Tony has never been good with feelings. He never used to talk about feelings to anyone. Not to his father or his mother, not ever Rhodey . If he feels sad he tinkers, if he is angry he would destroy some old project. But now? These weren’t his feelings, they were someone else. 

Sure, the pair got close over the past few months but he still didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know the boundaries. He didn’t know if there WERE any boundaries. 

Tony glanced at Peter again, he seemed to have curled even tighter.

The billionaire sighed before putting his hand on Peter’s back. 

I got to start somewhere I guess. 

“Hey Pete,” Tony whispered, trying not to startle the dazed boy. 

Peter looked up at him, his eyes glazed with tears. 

“Mr. Stark, May is gone,” Peter said, but it almost sounded like a question. It was as if Peter was asking if May was truly gone. 

“Yeah,” Tony bowed his head down, “do you know how?”

Peter sniffed, “The doctor said,” - what was her name?- “it was a-a spasm of the-” - what was the name of the artery- “coronary artery”

“Oh,” Tony replied. What else is there to say? “Peter I’m so so sorry.”

The boy shrugged, “It’s not your fault.”

Tony sighed again. He pursed his lips, trying to figure out what to do. Peter turned away, looking at the floor again. 

Tony shook his head, this boy has been through way too much. Both his parents passed away, then his uncle and now his aunt. 

Am I all he has left? 

*

Peter seemed to calm slightly down. He unwrapped himself, stretching his legs on the floor in front of him. His arms were crossed over his chest and he layed back as far as the plastic chair would let him.    

Tony looked at the clock he recently found mounted on a wall. It was almost 12am. 

“Hey buddy, lets go to the tower, okay?”

 Tony half expected Peter to resent, to refuse. But instead Peter just nodded and stood up. Tony inhaled sharply. 

Well that was easy. 

Tony also stood up, guiding Peter to his car. Peter sat in the passenger seat, and buckled himself in. Tony plopped himself into the driver's seat, buckling himself in too. 

“Ready?” Tony asked Peter.

And of course, Peter just nodded.

*

Finally the duo was in the Towers garage. Peter stayed silent the entire drive, not that Tony tried to engage him in conversation. They took the elevator to the living quarters where all the Avengers rooms were and a few guest rooms where Rhodey sometimes stays. There is one completely empty one where no one ever stayed. 

Finally the elevator opened and they both stepped out. Tony's eyes widened as Clint, Natasha, Steve and Wanda were all sitting on the couches watching a late night movie. They all looked dumbfounded. 

Steve, who was sitting on an armchair, had his eyebrows scrunched up, his mouth slightly ajar. 

Clint, who was taking up way too much space on the couch, looked like he ate something sour. 

Wanda was sitting crossed legged on the sofa and looked so confused. 

Natasha was sitting next to Clint and the only one who had a neutral expression, other than a single eyebrow raised. 

Steve started to open his mouth to ask a question, but shut it after Tony shot him a death glare. 

Tony led Peter down the hall and into the empty room. He opened it and the room was really simple. A bed, a desk, a closet, a few shelves, and a huge window.

Peter walked in and at that moment Tony realised that Peter had no stuff with him. No clothes, books, legos, nothing. 

I’ll get his stuff. 

“Uh Peter, are you hungry?” Tony asked, not knowing if the boy ate dinner. 

Peter’s stomach rolled at the thought of eating, so he shook his head violently. 

“Ok.. well if you need anything just ask.” Tony paused - God this was awkward- “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Peter echoed. 

Tony closed the door and sighed again. Now he has to explain everything to his teammates. 

Chapter Text

Tony strolled to the living room, hoping that the team wouldn’t ask anything. He just wanted to get to the elevator so he could go to the garage and then drive to Peter’s apartment. 

But of course, they had to talk. 

The minute Tony entered the room they all jumped up and surrounded him. 

Tony kept his face emotionless as the Avengers bombarded him with a never ending stream of questions. All the voices blurred to one and the billionaire could not distinguish the start of a new question from the end of an old one. 

Tony had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

God, these people! I just had one of the longest days of my life and all they want to do is ask me useless questions!

Tony put his hand up, kindly asking his teammates to shut up. 

Finally, the chatter petered out until it was dead silent in the room. Tony could finally exhale. There was almost the same amount of commotion coming from four people than from when he told the world he was Iron Man. 

The billionaire sucked in a huge breath from his flared nostrils. 

I hope they understand. 

He put his hand down, and they all gave him puzzled looks, waiting for an explanation.

“I don’t have much time,” Tony started, “but that boy, he’s my personal intern, remember him?”

There were mumbles saying how they remember.

Sometimes when they asked Friday where Tony was, the AI would reply saying that he is in the lab with Peter. And the first time it had happened the AI explained that Peter was Tony’s personal intern. 

“Well” Tony drawled, “he lived with his aunt, and she suddenly passed away,” Tony hung his head slightly, “and a while back, I uh agreed to be his legal guardian,” Many eyebrows shot up, and Steve opened his mouth, but Tony continued before he could ask anything, “so now, I am.”

“Tony I don’t-” Steve started but got interrupted by the billionaire. 

“I don’t have much time,” Tony reminded (though he really didn’t have to leave so soon, he just wanted to be free of their prying eyes), “so you all get one question or statement each, go.”

The man crossed his arms, ready to answer as truthfully as possible to the questions. And he prepared himself for the statements, not knowing what they will say. He slightly leaned backwards, placing his left leg behind him, putting more weight on it. 

“Tony,” Clint said, head cocked to one side “I’m not agaisn’t Peter staying here, but are you sure he’ll feel comfortable?”

Tony was touched that Clint cared about how Peter felt. 

“Well,” Tony cleared his throat, “I guess we will have to make him comfortable.”

The four heads nodded, agreeing to the simple request. 

“Tony,” Wanda tucked a tuft of stray red hair behind her ear, “We will do our very best making sure Peter feels welcome.”

Tony smiled.

“Yeah, we will try our best. Like if Peter needs help with his history homework, I’m sure Steve will be more than glad to help,” Natasha smirked as she finished. 

Steve scoffed, trying to hide a smile, but then his face turning into a more empathetic expression “I hope he’s doing okay,”

Tony sniffed before nodding, “I hope so too.”

They all stayed silent for a moment, mentally welcoming Peter. 

“Well I gotta go now,” Tony said, rubbing his hands together. 

The man started to walk to the elevator when Wanda asked where he was going. 

“I’m going to Peter’s house to pick up some things for him,” Tony entered the elevator car. 

They all exchanged quick goodbyes as the elevator doors closed. Finally Tony was by himself as the elevator went down to the garage. Now Tony was left there with his thoughts. 

How the hell am I gonna do this?

*

When Tony closed the door behind him, Peter was left with his thoughts. 

The boy jumped to the bed, tangling himself into the blanket. He shoved his head into the pillow and cried. He could hear Tony talking to the Avengers thanks to his enhanced hearing. He zoned them out, not caring about what they're talking about.

They're talking about me. 

Peter was no doctor but it didn’t take a genius to know that stress is one of the reasons a heart attack may occur.

Of course May was stressed because of me. 

His textbooks, clothes, and especially all the food he consumes must cost alot. Not even including the bills. Ben would still be alive if it wasn’t for him, and May would be happier if her husband was still alive. And if Peter didn’t exist, May wouldn’t need to work as much since she’ll only have to support herself.

Peter’s eyes widened, Did I just indirectly kill her? 

I shouldn’t be alive. It should have been me that night.

Peter sobs filled the room, his chest ached with each heaving breath he took. His face was red and flushed, a steady stream of tears poured down his face. Peter cried until he fell into an uncomfortable sleep, not knowing that Steve could hear his sobs. 

*

Tony was so exhausted.

He drove from the Tower to Peter’s apartment, packed nearly everything in the house in boxes, and now is driving back. His eyelids felt so heavy he was afraid he'll fall asleep while driving. 

He tapped some buttons and found the closest Starbucks that was still open at this hour. He yawned, rubbing his head knowing that once he’ll drink it he’ll probably not be able to sleep.  

Oh well, Tony thought dismissively, turning left and on the route to go to the coffee shop. 

Tony stretched his legs as far as he could without hitting the brakes, yawning so wide his jaw popped. He rubbed his jaw and used his right hand to drive. He would usually play music but he was afraid any sound would make a headache come. Tony pursed his lips, how on Earth did he get into this situation that has him driving at two am with a truckload of teenager stuff. 

The weight of realisation came crashing down on his chest, making him gasp and wheeze.  

May is gone.

She's really gone.

And I’m all Peter has left. 

*

With his cheap coffee, he drove back to the tower. 

God I hope I’ll be better than Howard.

Tony never wanted kids. He was afraid he'd be like Howard. He knows that some people shouldn't be parents, he knows for a fact that Howard is one of those people but what if I’m also one of those people?

He still couldn’t believe May was dead. Gone. Deceased. Never to be seen again. And now he is in charge of Peter. Responsible. He must supervise him. Tony will be held accountable if Peter does something stupid in school.

God, I hope I won’t mess him up.

Tony was not a religious man, but he prayed that he would not mess Peter up. 

And more importantly, Tony won’t mess up and become Howard.

Please…

Tony silently prayed, breathing heavily. 

*

After twenty minutes of Tony fighting within himself, and of course, safely driving, he was in the tower once more. He opened the trunk and saw how many boxes he had. Tony sighed and rubbed his face, it was going to be a long night. 

The man cracked his knuckles and prepared himself to bring dozens of boxes to Peter's new room. He grabbed the first box that contained his backpack, some clothes he found on the ground and his Spiderman suit. He disheartedly looked at the piled of boxes once more before going to the elevator. 

The billionaire was halfway to the elevator when his teammates stepped out.  

“It's past your guy’s bedtime,” Tony remarked but was grateful as they all took the rest of the boxes. Steve easily carried three, Natasha and Clint both each held one, and Natasha used her powers to carry the rest. 

“Friday told us you were down here with all these boxes-” Wanda started, boxes floating around her with red puffs following it.

“And we took pity on you,” Clint interrupted, smirking. 

Tony sighed, but smiled, “Thanks,”

“No problem,” Steve smiled back as they all filed into the elevator.

“Yeah we don’t want you to bust your back,” Natasha added. 

“Hey!”

As they rode up the elevator, bickering with each other, Tony forgot why he was so worried. Sure, they will have to hide the fact that Peter was Spiderman, but they will cross the bridge when they get to it. But for now, Tony was going up the elevator with his teammates at two am with cartons of Peter’s stuff surrounding them. 

Chapter Text

Peter was sitting on their worn out couch, watching TV to pass the time. Peter felt so content, there was no crushing weight on his shoulders or empty feeling in his heart. He felt happy and whole. 

“Peter, dinner is ready!” May called from the kitchen.

A small smile twitched on his mouth, “Coming!” 

He turns off the TV and stands up. He stretches while sniffing the air to see what his aunt made. No aroma or odour reached his nose. Shrugging, he walked into the kitchen. 

May’s back was facing him, she was stirring a big rusty pot. The boy sat down on a chair, leaning back in his seat. 

“How was your day sweetie?” 

May’s head turned around to see him unnaturally. Only her head moved to face him as the rest of her body stayed still. A gross wet crunching filled the small kitchen as May locked eyes with him. Sort of. Instead of eyes May had black holes in her eye sockets. She was crying blood, and Peter gasped as the crimson blood dripped to the floor. 

Peter screamed as May lunged for him, arms out ready to strangle him. 

Peter wakes up with a strangled gasp. He wheezes for air as sweat soaks back and neck. 

“Peter?” Friday called, “Your heart rate is extremely high, would you like me to call Boss?” 

Peter shook his head, breathing out a bit steadier than before.

“If you are sure,” Friday sounded reluctant, “Boss is in the kitchen with breakfast.”

Peter nodded, heading towards the bathroom ( oh my god this room is huge! ), “Thanks Fri,”

After a very quick (read as violent) brush of his teeth, Peter slowly made his way to the kitchen. He had really hoped that the kitchen won’t have anyone except for Tony, but of course the Universe truly hated Peter. Clint was sitting at one of the tall chairs by the island. He had a coffee in one hand and an ipad in the other. Tony is on his phone by the counter, with pancakes stacked high on two plates. Tony looks up and sees Peter, and then he smiles.

“Hey Pete, how are you doing?” Tony askes, his smiling feeling awkward on his face. 

Peter just shrugs, eyeing Clint. Clint looks up for a split second before quickly looking back down at whatever he was doing. 

Peter and Tony start eating their pancakes, which were extremely dense. Tony tried talking to Peter, asking him questions, but the only answers he got were nods or shakes of his head. Eventually Tony stops trying. Clint stayed sitting, watching the two of them. 

Once Peter finished with his dense pancakes (seriously, does Tony not own a sifter?!) he washed his maple syrupy plate and rushed back to his room, not bothering to dry his hands. 

Once Tony heard Peter’s door shut, he let out a stifled shout in frustration. Clint quickly put down his empty mug and his ipad. He rushed to Tony’s side, putting a single hand on his shoulder. 

“You did great Tony,” Clint assured his teammate (read as friend).

“No I didn’t” Tony groaned, shoving his face in his hands, “What the hell do I do?”

Clint thought for a second, “Act normal, do whatever activity you both usually do,”

Now it was Tony’s turn to think, “Yeah,” the man remove his face from his hands and stood up a bit straighter, “That’s actually a good idea considering you have a bird brain,”

Clint scoffed but smiled anyway, “Now go, get lost Tony!” 

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Tony walked to the elevator, going to prepare the lab.

*

Peter was alone for around an hour. He texted MJ and Ned the news and worried texts filled his phone. He ignored them and mindlessly scrolled through Instagram Reals. He watched with an embarrassing amount of focus as he saw a man throw a big rock down a bridge and into the water. 

“What will happen?” The man asked before dropping it. 

It will splash, Peter’s thoughts deadpanned. 

And sure enough a monstrous splash came from the huge rock. 

“Hey kid,” Soft knocking came from his door, “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Peter replied, watching the video again. 

Tony came and smiled, “Do you wanna work in the lab?”

Peter cocked his head to one side, and smiled a bit, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

*

Tony and Peter tinkered in the lab for the rest of the day, ordering take out for dinner. 

“Hey Mr. Stark? Thanks for the pancakes, they were really good,” Peter lied.

Tony looked up and smirked, “I know they were bad, but no problem kid.”

They continued to work in a comfortable silence. And Peter let himself think that maybe, just maybe, things will be alright.

Chapter Text

Peter knew that May’s funeral was next Sunday. He had a few days to prepare himself. But he knew he would never be ready. And worst of all, he had to give a speech. He tried for endless hours but nothing worth saying came. All the words in the world couldn’t describe how amazing his Aunt was. 

The night before the funeral came by too fast. He laid on his bed, knowing he should sleep, but he had to finish his speech. He had multiple crumpled pieces of paper littering his bed, along with scattered stacks of paper, some with a few words, others with half written speeches.

This is impossible!

Peter collapsed on his bed, all the papers flying everywhere. Checking his phone, he groaned, it was nearing 2am. 

“Peter,” Friday said, “I would advise you go to sleep,”

Peter groaned again, “I will,”

“Would you like me to contact Mr. Stark? I’m sure he can help you sleep,”

“No,” Peter rubbed his hand on his head, “I’m good,”

Flipping so he was laying on his stomach, he rested his head on his hands. 

Why does Mr. Stark even care about me? He didn’t even have to take me in, it wouldn’t affect him at all. 

These bitter thoughts powered by grief came to Peter’s head. However soon Peter finally knew what he was going to write about. 

*

May’s funeral was taking place at the cemetery. All the Parkers were lined up, first Peter’s parents, Mary and Richard, then Ben and now May. 

The cemetery had beautiful Willow trees, lined up at the perimeter. Along with flowers scattered throughout. Not a single spot was bare as lush green grass was almost like a blanket on the dirt. 

Dozens of people came, all giving speeches. Tony and Peter stood side by side, Peter wearing a black suit with a black tie, Tony’s suit was nearly identical only with his shirt being dark grey instead of white. 

The second last person gave their speech, she said she was May’s coworker and May was the greatest friend she could have asked for. 

Her speech dragged on when people thought it was ending, and Tony reminded Peter that he was after her, as if Peter could have forgotten. 

“Peter,” Tony whispered, “You’re next,”

“I know,” Peter whispered back.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before turning to Tony, “Mr. Stark, I can’t do this, I shouldn’t even be here,”

Tony looked at him with a serious expression, “Of course you can do this. And why on Earth do you think you shouldn’t be here?”

Peter sighed while looking down, “She had a heart attack, Mr. Stark. A heart attack. What if it was caused by stress, she was stressed because of me,”

“Peter,” Tony whispered softly, “I spoke with Dr Sara, after doing some more tests she learned that it was in her genes. It was genetics, not stress that caused it,”

Peter’s neck snapped up, “What, really? When did she tell you?”

Tony scratched his goatee, “Last night, I was going to tell you after the funeral,”

“Oh,” 

So it wasn’t my fault. 

Finally the coworker finally finished her speech, and now it was Peter’s turn. 

“You can do this,” Tony whispered.

Peter gave a curt nod before walking up to the stand. Everyone was staring at him, as if trying to look for flaws. 

Maybe I’m walking too fast. 

Peter slowed down to a casual strut, then out of the corner of his eye he saw someone checking his watch.

Oh no! I’m taking too long! GAH!

The boy picked up the pace, nearly jogging. 

Finally he reached the stand, he turned to face the audience. He grabbed the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and smoothed it between his index finger and thumb. There on crinkled lined paper was scribbled words he wrote. 

He looked up at the crowd, his heart slowly coming up his throat. 

I can’t do this.

He scanned the faces, most of them tear stricken. Until his eyes landed on Tony. Tony mouthed the words “you can do this bud,” and determination filled Peter’s body. 

“Aunt May was everything to me. She was there when I cried, she was there when I laughed. She took me in, fed me, clothed me, yelled at me for good reasons,” Peter stopped for a moment as a few people laughed softly, “She didn’t have to take care of me, she still did though. I remember when we learned my parents passed away I cried so hard I threw up. My now late uncle cleaned up the mess as May said “You can cry, you can scream, you can even throw up again, just promise me this: that even though your parents are gone, don’t stop livin,” and I’m still not going to stop living, cuz I owe her that much,” Peter turned to the now closed coffin, “Aunt May, I’ll live my life for the both of us,”

As Peter walked back to Tony he couldn’t help think that things will be okay.

*

On Monday Peter went to school. He told Ned and MJ who gave him their condolences. But Peter shook it off, he honestly felt much better. May was in a better place, reunited with late husband once more. 

Peter, MJ and Ned all walked down the halls once the last bell of the day rang. They made closer and closer to the exit when Peter’s tingle started to go off. Since it was so slight, he decided to ignore it. 

They pushed open the doors to be bombarded by flashing cameras, mics shoved into their faces and hundreds of people crowding him.

“Peter Parker, is it true that you are living with Tony Stark?”

“Are you a charity case, Peter Parker?”

“Have you met the Avengers, Peter Parker?”

“Are you changing your last name to Stark? Will you be known as Peter Stark ?”

Peter Stark.

Peter mumbled underneath his breath, “What the fu-,”

Chapter Text

Peter, MJ, and Ned pushed through the crowd of reporters. Hands grabbed at them, mics were shoved into their faces, one of them hitting Peter’s eye.

“Peter,” Ned started slowly as they continued to force themselves through, “what the hell is this,”

Peter could barely even shake his head in return.

Peter almost collapsed in relief as he saw Tony charge towards him. Once Tony reached him, he put his arm around Peter’s shoulders and guided him to the car.

“Do you kids need a ride home?” Tony asked MJ and Ned once they all reached his car and Peter was safely in the passenger seat.

“You’re Tony Stark,” Ned mumbled, his eyes so wide it looked like they would pop out.

“We are good,” MJ answered for both her and Ned. Tony nodded before getting into the driver's seat and drove as fast as he could away from the school.

He looked at Peter who looked pale.

“Don’t worry kid, I’ll sort this out,” Tony said.

“I hope so,” Peter replied, looking out the window.

*

On Tuesday Peter stayed home from school while Tony held a conference.

On the same day he learned that a news man went to May’s funeral saw Peter and Tony together. After the man, Marko Mantoi, saw them, he did a little digging and found out the truth.

Turns out Marko Mantoi was a small news man, only doing local hot dog cart robberies. Marko hoped that this would be his “big break”.

While he waited until he went up the stage only one statement was running through his head: I really hope this goes well.

Tony put on his sunglasses and walked onto the stage. Flashing lights hit his face while people yelled questions at him. Tony put a hand up, kindly asking everyone to shut the hell up.

Once everyone was quiet, or at least quieter, Tony spoke with the occasional camera shuttering as someone was taking a photo of him.

“As many of you guys know, I am now the legal guardian of a teenager named Peter Parker,” Tony's PR person told him not to be vague so the media won't be able to twist his words.

“I’m sure many of you guys are wondering why I am doing it since it doesn’t seem like something I would do,” a murmur of agreement washed through the crowd, “I want to make this clear, he is not a charity case and he is not for good publicity,” because I don’t care how the media thinks about me.

“Then why??” a male yelled from the crowd.

“I was getting to that,” Tony said through gritted teeth, “He is my personal lab assistant, after his only guardian had an unexpected death no one else was there to take him so I decided to.”

Hundreds of voices clashed together at once, yelling mostly useless questions at him.

Tony put his hand up once more, asking them to shut the actual f up. This time he waited till everyone was completely quiet.

“I’m going to only answer three questions,” Tony pointed to a random woman before they could yell again, “You in the blue blouse, ask one question.”

“Why can’t you just put him in foster care?” The women asked in a way that seemed that Peter was an object.
Because the system in f-ed up, “Because I just want what is best for him, and-”

“Seriously?” a man, no not any man. Marko Mantoi scoffed, “A guy with no kids, not married, and never had a long term girlfriend, knows what's best for a teenage boy?”

Tony flared his nose, fury filling every corner of his body, “What I do know is that you ruined his life since you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut!”

The silence was deafening, but Tony couldn’t care less.

“You already ruined his life the moment you entered his life,” Marko’s words left a lingering tension.

Tony slammed his open palm on the podium, “No more questions,”

He started to walk away while people shouted, begging him to answer more questions. Tony suddenly remembered something, he spun on his heels and went to the mic once more.

“And if anyone tries to ambush him or take pictures of him without his consent, or even get too close to him I will sue you for everything you have, and leave you in shambles,”

And with that, Tony left.

*

The remote slipped from Peter’s grasp as Tony left the stage. He has been watching the live video of the conference with the TV in his room, (he has a TV in his room!) and he couldn’t believe it! Tony stood up for him! And most likely ruined his already shaky reputation.

AND HOW DARE MARKO SAY THOSE THINGS!!
And of course, it was Peter’s fault.

It was always Peter’s fault.

The teen started to pace around the room, needing to do something.

“Fri, I need to do something… I need.. I need uh-” Peter… wanted to be done with this spiral of events.

“You could go down to the gym and blow off some steam.” Friday suggested. After Peter nodded Friday showed him how to go to the gym.

*
The gym was HUGE. At least two basketball courts could fit in the gym. Multiple complicated looking machines were scattered, along with dumbbells. There were several different types of treadmills were on one side, and the other side were punching bags.

Peter jogged up to one punching bag and started punching at lighting speed. His arms were moving ungodly fast, superhuman speed. His hands were numb as his knuckles started to split open and bleed. All his anger and frustration and wanting everything to be done came out in one punch. The bag completely split open. The bag skidded several feet forward, the bag reduced to pulp.

Peter breathed.

In, out.
In, out.

Then he heard someone else's breath.

Peter turned to the side and saw Captain America gawking at him. Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Peter,” Captain America said slowly, trying not to frighten him, “How the fuck did you do that?”

Chapter Text

“Peter?!?” Steve called again, trying to get the dazed boy’s attention, “How did you do tha-”

Peter didn’t bother to hear the rest of it, instead he ran to the doorway, where Cap was already there. Cap’s broad frame took up most of the doorway so Peter went on his back and skidded in between Cap’s legs. Once he was safely on the other side, Peter sprinted while Cap followed him. Peter dashed away like Steve had a machete, and the boy watched enough horror movies to know NOT to look back. 

Peter strained his ears and heard that Steve was several meters behind him so Peter opted for the elevator. 

“Friday, open the elevator,” Peter whispered between pants for breath. 

To Steve it looked like Peter was running full speed to an elevator which still had its doors closed. Peter continued running to the elevator doors and looked like he was going to bash into them. Steve was about to call his name to tell him to slow down but the words died on his tongue when he saw that at the last second the elevator doors opened and Peter went barreling into them. 

“Fri, close the doors!!!” Peter half-shouted even though the doors were already closing, but not fast enough.

Steve seemed to triple in speed and was about to enter the elevator with him when the doors slammed shut right in front of Cap’s face.

As the elevator rode up, Peter slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. 

The consequences of his actions dawned on him, he just used his super strength in front of an Avenger. 

*

Tony arrived home and Friday immediately informed him that Peter has been in his room for a few hours.  

“Thanks sweetheart,” Tony replied, not bothering to ask what happened because he wants to hear it from the teen himself.

He rode up the elevator and stepped out into the main room. And behold, there was Steve, waiting for him.

“Tony, I need to tell you something,” Steve's eyes searched Tony's as if trying to find all his secrets. Or in this case, Peter's secrets.

Tony unbuttoned the top button and loosened his tie, “Not even a “Hello” Capsicle?” Tony continued to make his way to Peter’s room.

“Hello,” Steve said through gritted teeth, “Tony listen, I saw-”

Tony rubbed his eyes until he saw black worms dancing in front of his eyes, “Listen Cap, I had a really long day and-” 

“I saw Peter punch through a punching bag!” Steve blurted out.

The silence was louder than Tony's breathing.

Tony's eyes widened for a split second before going back to the lazy, half opened eyes, but this time much more alert. Tony searched every corner of his brain to find a believable excuse for BEATING THE PULP OUT OF A PUNCHING BAG. Something only people with super strength could do.

“Oh that?” Tony waved a lazy hand in front of him, like this is a daily and very normal thing to happen, “Peter isn’t the strongest teen in the world and I know he likes to blow off steam by using a punching bag. But in the past he hurt himself so I thought it'll be safer to weaken one of the punching bags and for Friday to lead him to it. I guess I weakened it too much. Heh.”

Tony hated himself for talking like Peter was weak and fragile when in reality he was stronger than all of then combined.

“Oh,” Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “I guess that makes sense-”

“Well great! See you later Cap!” Tony replies too cheerfully and afterwards speed walked to Peter's room and letting himself in.

Tony pried open the door and shut it behind his before dramatically slumping on top of the closed door.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter rushed toward him, “I messed up! I accidentally-”

“Don't worry kid. Capsicle already asked me,” Tony interrupted.

“What did you say!?!” Peter asked, eyes frantic.

Tony stood up with a groan, “I told him you're on steroids,”

“What?!?” Peter nearly shouted, gawking at him with his eyebrows so raised they were almost at his hairline.

Tony chuckled. “I'm kidding kid! I told him that I made the punching bag weaker so you wouldn't hurt yourself,” Tony said as he went and sat on the boy's bed.

“Oh, whew!” Peter’s facial features relaxed before sitting on a chair close to his bed.

They sat in a comfortable silence that was soon broken by Peter.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter waited until Tony looked up from his shoes, “Thanks for doing the press conference.”

Tony's heart melted, “Of course kiddo, any time.”

*

“You guys are tired of living in the dumps, right?” Thaddeus Ross asks.

People shouting their answers filled the tiny and grimy room. Mostly their answers consisted of a swear word and then “Yeah!” or “Yes!”

“Cut to the chase Ross,” The main leader of the gang, Evans, stepped forward.

“If you want power and money, I know how to get you more than you could ever dared to dream of,” Ross continued, however mostly talking to Evans now.

His gang behind him cheered at the words “money” and “power”, although Evans had a poker face on, only having a ghost of a smile on his lips to show any emotions.

“What would we have to do?” Evans asked, leaning slightly back and crossing his arms on his chest.

“My plan requires these two,” Ross said before slamming down a photo of Tony and Peter on the table.

Chapter Text

Tony watched as Peter was hunched over multiple textbooks and chewed on his pencil. The man dramatically sighed and spun around in his roller chair. Both of them were in the lab waiting for Peter to be done so they could start building. But Peter has been working for three hours.

Tony checked his watch, it was almost 3pm. With another dramatic sigh Tony walked over to Peter. 

“C’mon Peter, lets go,” Tony said, grabbing the boy's biecipe and hauled him up.

“Wha-” Peter looked at Tony very confused as he got on his feet, “go where?”

“I'm hungry,” Tony whined like a little kid, “So WE are gonna get cheese burgers,” Tony marched away to the elevator.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter called after him but the man didn't stop walking until Peter jogged up next to him, “Mr. Stark, I've got homework!”

“Your homework will still be here, the restaurant closes at 6pm,” 

“Yeah but-” Peter tried to reason with him again.

Tony tsked and shook his head, “No buts, we are going. And I know your hungry, I can hear your stomach rumbling from here,”

It was unfortunately true so Peter reluctantly went with him. 

*

While they drove to McDonald's the duo happily chatted along the way. 

Tony slowed down the car at a red light, then drove down an intersection once it turned green. Halfway through the intersection Peter had a rolling gut feeling. Every hair on his body stood up and his head screamed at him, he knew they were in danger.

Then he knew how. He felt it before it happened.

Peter shrieked, “TONY, GO!” but Peter knew they wouldn't move fast enough so he flinged his body on top of Tony's.

“WHA-” Tony shouted in return. Then he felt it.

A white van crashed on the right side of their car. The van hit the trunk with such force that Tony lost control of the wheel. Their car spinned uncontrollably until the back of the car crashed into a light pole. The back half of their car was utterly broken, while the front had minimal but still obvious damages.

Tony fought to stay awake, using what little energy he had left to check the pulse of the limp boy in his lap. There was a steady thump, thump, and the man sighed in relief. 

He lifted his head to see masked men running towards his car. 

Oh no.

Tony started to frantically shake Peter's body.

“Peter! Wake up! PETER!!” Tony screamed while unbuckling his seat belt. Peter slowly and groggily lifted his head.

Before he knew it the masked men ripped open both doors from the hinges and Tony saw a man inject Peter with a syringe. Peter immediately fell back asleep.

“NO!! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!” Tony shouted in protest while trying his best to fight back the men trying to inject him with similar substance.

At the corner of his eyes he saw two men carry Peter’s limp form away. Tony twisted and lunged towards the men carrying Peter away. Screaming threats and sobbed begs.

The men easily overpowered Tony and threw Peter at the back of their white van. Then Tony felt a pinch in his neck and his world turned black while still begging them to leave his son alone.

***

Tony woke up with a thundering headache and a possibly broken collarbone from the whiplash from the seatbelt. He sat up, realizing that he was tied with thick rope on a wooden chair. He was in the middle of an empty room, with only four gourds. Two on each side of a door in front of him. They each had guns in their hands, and the man saw the glint of a knife in their pockets. 

The room was extremely dirty, and was the dictionary definition of grey and brown. Spiderwebs covered the walls, and every surface was marinating in layers of dirt and dust.

“Where the hell am I?” Tony croaked, asking the guards, “and where is Peter?”

Tony tried to keep his voice calm but got extremely frustrated when the guards ignored him. He opened his mouth to ask again but was interrupted by the door opening.

A white man, in his early thirties with slicked back black hair entered.

“Stark! Nice to see you awake!” The man said in an American accent. 

“Where am I?!” Tony asked angrily.

“Don't worry Stark,” the man said with a grin "you're in your new home.”

“What the hell do you mean?!?”

“I mean you're never going to leave here,” The man took out a knife, a silent threat.

Tony fought against the restraints, “Where is Peter?” he asked in a slow and calm voice when he really wanted to rip this bastard's head off.

“You mean your personal assistant?” the man cocked his head at him, “he's not dead. Really sweet that you care, actually. That will really work in my favour.” The man grinning again, continuing playing with his knife. 

Tony opened his mouth but the man interrupted him.

“Let's cut to the chase.” The man turned to face Tony again, “My name is Evans and this is my merry men,” he pointed to the guards, “Don't worry, there's more of them.”

Evans stepped forward, “and you only have one reason to be here, I want you-”

“If you want money I'll give you money-”

Evans lunged forward, holding the knife to Tony's throat. Tony didn't dare to swallow, he felt the pressure of the knife caving into his throat. 

“I don't like being interrupted Stark,” Evans spat out, “And I don't need money, I want power.”

Evans took a step back, lowering the knife, “I want you to create a machine that can send a frequency that will make everything in its path obey my voice.”

“That's impossible,” Tony sputtered, “There is no way that can work!”

“Are you saying you won't try?” Evans raised an eyebrow.

“Of course not, that's crazy!”

“Will you try now?” Evans snapped his fingers and four burly guards came in with Peter. 

“PETER!!” Tony screeched.

The boy looked dazed and sweaty. He had a tight and bulky collar around his neck, with a metal chain acting as a leash which one of the guards held.

“Mr. Sta-” 

Before Peter could finish his name he fell to the ground, withering in pain, wailing in agony. Tony realized that Evans was holding a small remote.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO HIM!!” Tony bellowed.

“That collar sends electric shocks, costrolled by this remote,” Evans said smugly. The man pressed a button making Peter scream louder.

“Please stop-” Tony begged, crying.

“That depends, will you make me my machine?”

Tony was conflicted, but then he saw Peter doing a harsh thrash, so he didn't realize he was screaming “yes”.

Soon Peter stopped thrashing, breathing heavily. The guards dragged him by the chain, out of the room.

“Everyday I will torture that thing till you make what I want. Do I make myself clear?”

Again, Tony found himself nodding

Chapter Text

Peter woke up with a crick in his neck. 

He tried opening his eyes but it felt like there were anvils on them, keeping them shut. Eventually he had to use his fingers to pry them open. The first thing he saw was a disgustingly brown roof, he sat up, leaning on the wall, trying to figure out where he was. 

The room he was in was around the size of an average office. To his left was a brown toilet with blue mold growing on the bottom, and on the wall in front of him was a heavy duty door. The walls itself had little to no paint, and the only paint was peeling off in chunks. 

Peter stood up and heard clunking from behind him, he turned around to see a heavy duty chain, connecting to the wall with a lock to the collar on his neck. 

WAIT WHAT?!

His hands flew to his neck and felt a tight, chunky collar. He tugged hard on the rusting chain, realizing that he couldn’t feel his super strength. He walked up to the door, only to realize his chain stopped short, he was a meter and a half away from the door. Realizing he can’t go any further, he felt the smallest piece of hope deflate. 

He was leashed to the wall like a dog. 

He couldn’t even reach the walls on his left and right, and he could barely reach the toilet. 

Peter went back to the wall and inspected the lock that kept the chain attached to the hook on the wall. The lock was really sturdy, and he knew without his super strength there is no way he could break it.

The thing they injected me with must have blocked my powers!

Anger boiled in Peter, but was quickly replaced with fear. Fear of where Tony was? Is he here? Is he hurt? Is he dead? 

While Peter came up with every possibility, the door started to unlock, and four guards walked in, with a man with sharp brown eyes walked in with them.  

“Hello Spiderman,” the man said. 

Peter was ready to attack them but instead stammered in shock, “W-what? I’m not Spiderman,”

“There is no point in lying Spiderman,” The man titled his head at him, “Or do you prefer Peter Benjamin Parker?”

Peter's heart froze mid-beat. 

This wasn't some random kidnapping, they planned this. 

“I-I don't-”

“Save the lies Parker,” The man snapped, “It'll just make it harder for you.”

Peter gulped, “No-o you got the wrong person,”

The man lifted his eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

The boy nodded, “Yea-”

Electricity blasted through his body. Peter screamed and crashed to the floor, his body violently spasming. The electricity made his blood feel like it was boiling, and his muscles painfully cramped. Sweat blinded him, or was that tears? He let a never ending shriek, not even stopping to breath.

Just as fast as it started, it ended. The relief was instant, he felt his tense body relax immediately.

As he opened his eyes -when did I close them?- the man was face to face with him. Peter inhaled the man’s exhale, his breath smelling like mint.

“This is what happens when you lie, or disobey us. You get punished.” The man stood back up, “Let me ask you again Parker, are you Spiderman?”

The man held a little remote and Peter's fuzzy brain figured out that the remote was connected to his collar. 

NO.

Not his collar, the collar.

“I-I” Peter panted.

The man menacingly moved his thumb closer to a huge button on the remote and lifted an eyebrow, silently daring him.

I need to save my strength if I'm going to break out….eventually.

“I am,” the boy breathed out.

The man put the remote away before smiling cheerfully, “You're a fast learner.”

“Grab his leash and lets go,” the man turned and walked out of the door. One of the guards took out a key and unhooked his leash from the wall.

“Get up,” The guards voice ordered.

Peter stood up on shaking legs and the guards led him out by his- the- collar. The boy wanted to ask where they were going but his mouth was parched from the screaming. And all the energy he had left was used for walking. 

One foot after the other.

Left, right.

Left, right.

Left, right.

The man entered the room and was talking to someone. 

Talking wasn't the right word. More like arguing.

He could barely hear since he was still so dazed but he heard the man introduce himself as Evans. The man - Evans, snapped his fingers and the guards continued walking into the room.

There, tied up to a chair he saw Tony.

“PETER!” his mentor screamed.

“Mr. Sta-!”

Hot, white pain flooding his body again. He crumpled to the ground wailing in pain.

He heard Tony pleading and begging as he thrashed around like a fish out of water.

Eventually the pain stopped.

His vision blurred and his ears ringing as he was dragged out of the room.

He was only able to hear Tony once more before he passed out.

“Hang in there, bud.”

Chapter Text

Peter woke up on the same grimy floor. His entire body ached while his muscles were sore. He forced himself to sit up but regretted it as his empty stomach became more prominent.

The boy scanned the area, trying to find an exit, an escape. He anticipated the door swinging open and Evans and his men storming in. But he was left alone.

*

After many hours of silence, the door creaked open and a women with a resting bitch face stood in the doorway, with a tray in her hands. Peter stood up, he could see the other side of the door.

  If only the collar reached the door .

“If you ever want to eat again,” the women said, scowling, “you will stay where you are,”

Without waiting for the answer she walked just a few feet before putting the tray down. The keys to the cell jingled in her pocket. That's when he pounced.

At full speed he ran to the women, but stopped short, his collar creaking as he tries to run further. The tray was placed just where his feet stopped. He stretched out his hands, trying to claw at the women. Her fingers were inches from her face. She just smirked and turned around when she was at the door.

“You only get one meal a day,” she said, “so you better behave so I don't take it away,” and with that she slammed the door shut and locked it

He stayed standing till he couldn't hear her footsteps. Anger now replaced with hunger, he slumped down to the tray. He hasn't eaten a day and a half?- maybe shorter, maybe longer. 

His meal was barely a meal.

Two pieces of bread, a styrofoam cup filled with boiled red kidney beans, and a mini plastic water bottle. They didn't even give him a spoon.

He ate slowly, having one bite, and waiting until he finished chewing to get the next bite ready. 

While he ate he wondered if they were giving Tony anything to eat.

*

Three days passed with nothing but pure silence, the only sound was when the lady came to give him his meal. It was so quiet nearly twenty-four hours a day that he started making sounds with his mouth, just to hear something. 

It really started on day one, when he was humming to himself. But soon, humming wasn’t enough. On day two he started making clicking sounds, by day three he did patterns of clicks and hums. 

Peter’s stomach rumbled, as the muscles lightly spasmed. He was so hungry. The amount of food he was getting could probably not even replenish a toddler. Although he was grateful he was getting any food at all. Honestly thinking they’ll let him starve to death. 

But what shocked him the most was the fact that Evans and his men haven’t hurt him, in fact left him alone, he didn’t see Evans again after he saw Tony. 

Tony.

Tony.

Tony.

The door opened to Peter’s surprise, the lady ( God, I need to learn her name ) wasn’t supposed to come for a few more hours. Not that he had a clock, he just sensed the time when he got fed. So instead of the lady, Evans stepped through with three guards. 

Two of the guards stayed by the now closed door, while the other was wearing the chunkiest glasses Peter has ever seen, was standing on Evans’ left. Mr. Chunky Glasses’ both hands were behind his back. 

“Hello, Parker,” Evans’ smiled, “it has been a while.”

“Not long enough,” Peter snapped. But he hated how he was thankful to hear another voice. 

“I have some joyful news!” Evans’ clapped his hands once, like a kid being handed a toy truck, “Stark. Left.” He let out a mocking “woohoo!”

Peter stumbled to his feet, not bothering to even think about charging at Evans’, as he was out of collar-reach. 

“What the hell do you mean, "left" ?" Peter growled, fist clenching. 

“Stop being so dramatic,” Evans’ sighed, like Peter was the problem.

All hunger left Peter’s body, anger filling each crevice. 

He took a menacing step forward, “What. Do. You. Mean. “Left” ?” He said again, annunciating each word. 

Evans’ rolled his eyes, “We gave him an option to leave, and he was more than happy to!” he let out another chuckle, like this was a joke. 

Dread filled Peter’s body, “You’re lying,”

The man shrugged,” He didn’t even hesitate, leaving this place and leaving you,” the man smiled to himself, “I thought your guess bond was stronger than this, but it seems that Stark isn’t really that fond of you,” 

Peter’s chest seemed to cave inwards, he heaved a breath, tears pricking his eyes.

Evans took another step forward, still out of collar-reach, “You are really our bitch now,”

Peter shrieked, running up to the man. He stopped a few feet before reaching him, his stupid fucking collar wasn’t letting him reach. He kept on yelling, stretching his arms as far as possible, clawing the air. The tip of his fingertips were inches away from Evans’ face. 

Evans seemed unfazed, he turned to Mr. Chunky Glasses as he revealed a baseball bat behind his back. Evans grabbed it and swung it on Peter’s shoulder.

His shoulder flew in unnaturally directions, he crumpled to the floor, sobbing and holding his dislocated shoulder.   

Everyone made their way to the door, leaving him crying on the floor. But Tony leaving him was a pain worse than a dislocated shoulder.  

Chapter Text

Day Four

He didn’t remember passing out. Peter woke up on his back, his injured shoulder shooting daggers of pain down his arm. A tray of food was by his head. 

The woman must have come. 

He heaved himself up on one arm, groaning with the exertion. He looked at his pieces of bread, beans, a mini water bottle, and a plastic cup full of water. His stomach was rolling with the thought of eating. There was a little glob of light green paste, sniffing it, he realized it was toothpaste. Peter scanned the little tray, realizing there was no toothbrush. Signing, he scooped it out with his finger, only realizing now his breath smelt so bad he could taste it. 

He rubbed the toothpaste on his teeth, letting the minty taste fill his mouth. Each cavern of his mouth was filled with foamy paste, the disgusting taste of bad breath now replaced with a slight minty freshness.

He took the extra glass of water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it out in the glass again. 

The pain was getting worse. Now there was a throbbing pain, each heartbeat seemed to make his shoulder swell. 

Peter gritted his teeth and grabbed his shoulder. 

You can do this.

If only Tony was here. He would know what to do-

A scream scratched its way out of his mouth as he shoved his shoulder back in the socket. The pain went from a throbbing to a piercing within the second. 

This is worse. This is SO MUCH WORSE! FUC-

Just as quickly as it came, it subsided to a dull ache. It wasn’t perfect but it was so much better. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, before collapsing onto the floor

*

Tony paced the lab they put him in. 

Well it could barely count as a lab. Instead of metal and wires there were plastic wrappers and straws. Instead of tools there were pieces of paper with questionable stains on them.

It's been four days. Four days where he didn't know if Peter was alive or dead God , I hope he is alive. The only way he can tell the days are passing is because a lady came everyday with one meal. He sleeps on the floor, his back protesting every day. 

He continued his daily pace when he heard the lock, someone was opening the door. In came Evans and four guards. 

“Hello Tony,” Evans smiled with his teeth.

Tony stood taller, trying to look intimidating, “Where is Peter?”

“Do you want to see your little Petey Pie?” Cooed Evans in a sticky sweet tone. 

Tony nodded once, flaring his nostrils, trying to look scary.

Evans took out his phone, “Here he is!” he continued to use the revolting baby voice. 

On screen he saw Evans swing a wooden bat directly at Peter's shoulder. Peter let out something between a scream and a grunt, before falling onto the floor. 

“WHAT THE HELL?” Tony lunged at Evans but the four guards restrained him, “HE’S A FUCKING KID! ARE YOU INSANE?”

“He's also Spiderman,” Evans said, licking his teeth.

Tony’s face fell in shock before he sputtered, “No he’s not, genius! He’s a kid!”

Evans put a hand on his hip and started to scroll on his phone. 

So there is a signal here! If only I can get my hands on a phone and- 

“So you’re saying that this isn’t Peter?” Evans turned the phone to show Tony. The man quickly realised that he was scrolling (most likely) through his camera roll, which you don’t need a signal for. But if I can still get the phone then I can-

The screen was very grainy, showing an alleyway. Soon a boy (Peter Tony realizes) ran into the alleyway. The screen zoomed up showing Peter’s face. The screen zoomed out slightly showing Peter changing into his unmistakable Spiderman suit. 

“That’s not Peter,” Tony blurts out, still fighting slightly against the men who are holding him. 

Evans shrugs, “Maybe not, but Peter said he was.”

Tony immediately freezes again, dammit kid. 

.

The man continued, not realizing or paying attention to Tony’s shell shocked face, “It's really funny actually. Zap him with a few volts and he sings like a canary.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Tony said in a low, threatening whisper. 

Evans shrugs, making Tony want to rip off his goddamn shoulders, “Maybe you will, just gotta escape first,” the man smiled, “and if you hurt me well, lets just say we will put Peter out of his misery."

The man walked towards the tables filled with plastic and papers, a sign for the guards to roughly shove Tony forward. A hum of disapproval left Evans' mouth.

“I would have thought you would start making it” he signed in disapproval, “Considering how we have the things life in our hands.”

A thing? A THING? 

Picking up a piece of paper before throwing it down like it was infecting, Evans shook his head dramatically. 

“How the hell am I supposed to make a machine out of second hand paper?” Tony croaked out, trying to keep his voice calm.

Evans whipped around, “You built an Iron Man suit AND your arc reactor in a cave using scraps,”

Tony winced as Evans nearly mimicked Obadiah’s statement. 

“Those were metal scraps, this is junk.”

Taking a menacing step forward, Evans seemed to growl, “Find a way or it is dead.”

With that, everyone cleared out, leaving Tony in a room of junk. 

* 

Clint weaved his fingers through his hair.

It has been four days since Tony and Peter got abducted by those men. Vanishing into thin air. All security cameras around the area and the path they drove off to, they all stopped working. All they had were a handful of witnesses , who were there when they got abducted. Although nearly all of them were hiding in their cars, so seeing next to nothing. 

No leads. No suspects. They don’t even know what type of car the masked men drove.

All they know is that from 3:17-3:19 is when they crashed and got put into the vans. There were more than a dozen men. And…. that's it. That's all they knew. They didn't know who the men were. They didn't know if there were more. They didn't know if they injured Peter and Tony. Heck, they didn't even know if they were still alive.

Clint sighed as he watched Cap continue to pace, like that’ll do anything to help. He’s being even more useless than Wanda who is just going over the same facts, like they will change. Well she is being more useful than Clint who is watching Cap be useless. And Natasha… where is she Clint wondered. 

He was soon answered as she barged into the room carrying her laptop. She placed it on the coffee table and they all automatically huddled around her. 

“I was looking through the security cameras again,” Natasha started, “and on the day they got kidnapped I put all the security camera feeds onto the SHIELD program to get it filtered. I was supposed to put the security cameras from that hour but this new formatting made me mess up and put the last year,” she signed before taking a deep breath and continuing. 

“I was wondering why it took so long to filter,” Natasha muttered, mostly to herself. 

“But thank god I did because I found this.” She pressed play on the laptop. 

There was an empty alleyway before a boy, who they all realized was Peter, ran into it. Peter looked around before taking off his backpack. 

“Does the kid actually do steroids?" Steve mumbled to himself. 

The kid stripped down to his boxers and quickly put on a red costume before hiding his backpack behind a dumpster and swinging away. 

Wanda was the first to say what they were all thinking, “What the hell?”

“Peter is.. Spiderman?” Clint said, shock evident in his voice. 

They all looked at each other before Captain said, “I think I should tell you guys something.”

Chapter Text

Steve wasn’t stupid. He knew there is no way you can weaken a punching bag. But he played along because of the desperate look in Tony’s eyes, practically begging for him to believe him. 

His first guess was Peter was just really strong. The kid wasn’t exactly scrawny, but wasn’t exactly strong either. But he has seen people who looked normal until their shirt are off, then you can only gawk at their muscles. Powered by this theory, he searched the internet. And at the end he confirmed that it was impossible to punch through a punching bag as a normal strong human.

The only other theory was Peter was secretly a mutant. He searched the internet like a mad man (mostly looking at youtube videos) the only other mutant in the area was this red and blue vigilante. The same vigilante as the one in Germany. 

It all clicked. 

Tony started working with Peter after Germany. The short conversation they had before Steve dropped the metal beam (he dropped a metal beam on a kid!) helped Steve recognize Peter’s voice as Spiderman’s. And the final nail in the coffin was that after Peter’s aunt passed away, Spiderman wasn’t seen for a few days. 

So yeah, Captain knew Peter was Spiderman. And Cap knew that Tony knows about Peter’s secret.

But what was he going to say? Oh yeah you know the quiet kid who moved in with us after he lost everyone? Yeah well he is Spiderman, the same Spiderman we beat (or tried to) the shit out of. 

So he kept it to himself. Not confronting Tony or Peter. Well if he wanted to confront Peter it would be near impossible because Peter was either in his room or Tony’s lab. 

Now before he could stop himself the words tumbled out, “I knew Peter is Spiderman.”

“What the hell Rogers?” Natasha shouted angrily before punching Steve in the arm, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Wasn’t my secret to share.”

“Oh God,” Wanda said, pulling her hair from the roots, “does Tony know?”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure he does,” Steve replied. 

“Wait a damn second,” Clint half yelled-half shouted, “How did you find out?”

So Steve told about the punching bag, how the voices were the same, and about the missing days as Spiderman aligned perfectly. 

“Dang Rogers, I’m impressed you know how to use the internet," Wanda said.

“Yeah,” Clint huffed, “You’re making us spies look bad,”

Natasha ignored all of them, turning towards the ceiling, “Fri? Make a list of all of Spiderman’s enemies and continue the list of all of Iron Man enemies,"

Suddenly Steve felt stupid and guilty. If only I had told them sooner maybe we would have found them sooner-

“Do you think the people who kidnapped them know that Peter is Spiderman?” Wanda asked no one in particular. 

“That- That's a good question,” Clint replied, “And just another reason why we need to find them.”

*

Day Five 

Tony hasn’t rested once since Evans came in which was 20? 24 hours ago? 

He started with a sketch. He chose the paper with the least amount of stains and tears before finding a short pencil in the pile of rubbish. The sketch looked like it could work but if you look at the math and science, well it was nothing less than impossible. 

But it had to work. 

*

Peter missed his powers. 

An hour before Ms. Dinner (the woman who gave him his food) came, a needle from his collar mechanically pierces his neck and fills his veins with cold liquid. He figured out quite fast that it was some sort of liquid that blocks his powers.

The first time it happened he freaked out. But soon just took it, because what else could he do?  

His shoulder was a whole new story. It throbbed with every heart beat, making it impossible to think straight. He could only grit his teeth and pray to whichever god wanted to listen that Tony didn’t leave him and was coming to rescue him. 

A little voice in his head said that he would have come already if he was here.

Just as Peter was about to scold the voice in his head, the door opened. In stepped Evans, Mr Chunky Glasses and a few buff dudes. Peter immediately stood up and just as he opened his mouth Evans took out the remote that controlled his collar. A silent threat. 

“I really thought,” Evans started, putting the remote away, “that Stark would come for you. He really surprised us.”

“I know you’re lying,” Peter said, trying to keep doubt from creeping into his voice. He noticed two of the guards slowly walking to him from either side. 

The man shrugged, “I am not here to convince you, just telling you facts.” 

Just as Peter opened his mouth the two guards grabbed him arms and yanked him down to the floor. The boy flailed in their grasp. Evans walked towards him, holding a gleaming knife. 

Evans plunged the knife in the meat of Peter’s thighs, dragging down toward his kneecap. Peter’s scream put horror movie stars to shame. He could feel each chuck of flesh separating, each vein bursting, and every artery snapping. He babbled and begged helplessly. Through the blurry vision of his tear filled eyes he saw Evans lifting the knife from his thigh. He could barely breath before he stabbed him in the kneecap, until the heel of the knife. The guards let go of him and Evans retreated back to the door, leaving the knife in his kneecap. 

“Until next time Petey,” Evans said in a tone that made Peter forget about the pain. The last person to leave was Mr Chunky Glasses, just staring at Peter before retreating. 

“P-please,” Peter sobbed quietly, “ple-ease T-tony com-e bac-k.”

*

Tony was hunched over the piece of paper, still trying to make the impossible design possible. Suddenly he heard a bloody scream. Tony ran to the wall where he could hear the scream the loudest, whimpering to himself as he could do nothing but hear them torture Peter. 

He clenched his fist before punching the wall, “Hang in there bud,” he whispered, “I’m coming.”

Chapter Text

Tony was hunched over his design when Evans came into the room. He immediately straightened up, his back cracking. 

“Ah hello Stark!” Evans said gleefully.

“Evans,” Tony growled.

Although Tony heavily doubted that Evans was listening to him, he was already reaching for his phone. And Tony knew what that meant.

Before Tony could say a threat (or beg) Evans pressed play. It was the bloodiest thing he's ever seen. 

Peter let out a never ending scream, as the knife cut a long and deep cut through his thigh. As the knife got yanked out, blood spewed out of his thighs like a fountain. Tony thought it was over but the knife stabbed him straight into the kneecap. Evans pressed pause and Peter's face stayed frozen in pain. 

Evans put his phone back, “I really thought you loved him enough to make this.”

“You dirty bastard, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BIT-” Tony's threat stopped short as Evans took out the remote. 

Evans smirked, clearly happy how a small piece of plastic can make Tony shut up. 

“Oh and Stark,” Evans said turning around, “I found some metal you can use,”

With that he sauntered off, as his men dumped metal cans onto the floor, before leaving. 

*

Peter thought he knew what pain felt like. After all, he did once fall into a river, slapped to the ground by a giant man, had a building fall on top of him, as well as many more injuries. But holy shit all those felt like a paper cut in comparison to what he felt right now. 

It felt like a fire was in his leg, white electric shock waves crackled through the spared veins. The skin wasn’t just cut open, it screamed. Nerves sparking like live wire, his bone chilled as it was exposed to air. His muscles felt like glass shards were embedded in it. His kneecap was no longer usable. Completely shattered, it was no longer a hinge, but a mess of bone fragments. The pain made it impossible to walk, or even think about standing up. Hot, boiling hot, blood completely soaked his pants. 

So, so, so much blood. It was like gallons were poured out. It spurted and bubbled out, a never ended flow. He was getting light headed. He passed out from the pain, but now he was awake and he couldn't tell if the blood slowed down or sped up. The pain was so bad he wished he was still passed out, either temporarily or permanently. 

But he couldn’t die here. 

He had Ned, M.J, Spiderman, Aunt May, Tony. Even though Tony left him- which he didn’t. He’s still trying to find him. Iron Man will rescue me- he still loves him. And he doesn’t want his death to be on Tony’s conscience.

He focused his breathing. They were hard and labored. He tore off what little remained of his pants. Even though he hated how exposed he was in his briefs, he knew that he needed to use his resources to stop the bleeding. 

With his makeshift tourniquet ready, he yanked the knife out of his kneecap.

He screeched like a wounded animal, his vocal cords raw. 

Grunting, he slowly wrapped his frayed pants around the top of his thigh, before the gash starts. He grinded his teeth and let out a muffled scream as he tightened it. Every fibre of his being wanted to stop but he kept tightening it until the cloth was pressed so hard over the skin it felt like it was hugging his bone. He tied it and laid back down, watching the blood slowly trickling to a stop. 

I have to get out of here. 

The boy’s grip tightened around the knife, still caked with his blood. A messy plan formed in his mind, although less messy than the sad excuse for his leg. 

*

Avenger’s Tower

The list of enemies that Spiderman and Tony/Iron Man had were insanely long. However, they both had one common enemy.

Thaddeus Ross. 

Ross hates Tony for literally everything. Ross hates Spiderman because he is “a loose mutant”. Natasha and Clint both left earlier in the morning to question Ross, while Steve and Wanda were left to try to find where they might be. 

Wanda and Steve both already tried to locate their phones but quickly realized their phones were still in the car. They scanned the global news like hawks, trying to see if anyone, anywhere, spotted Tony Stark. 

The local cops already contacted the FBI to help look for them. Since Peter is a minor,Tony is… well Tony Stark , and Tony is a superhero, AND they don’t know if the kidnappers left the city, or state, or country, the FBI had to be involved.

Even with all this manpower, they still don’t know when- or if- they will find them. 

*

Dinner came and went. Peter, once again, inhaled the food, keeping the knife hidden behind him. Ms. Dinner also bought him a pair of loose pants, which he was immensely grateful for. He hated how happy he got from bare necessities, Peter kept his mind cold and hard, not wanting to be the newest case of Stockholm Syndrome. He put on the pants, nearly quitting halfway from how painful it was. But eventually he got it on. 

Just when Peter thought Evans wasn’t going to visit him the door opened. 

And just like always, Evans, Mr. Chunky Glasses and some guards came in. 

“Ah, hello!” Evans said to Peter.

Now. You can do this Spiderman. 

Peter started to violently shake, jolting his leg. Peter nearly bit his tongue clean off to hold off a howl, but the adrenaline helped with the pain. 

“Shit, I think he is having a seizure, boss!” A guard yelled. 

One guard quickly went to his side, as Peter felt the guard lightly touch his shoulder he knew it was time. 

Grabbing the knife he was laying on, he stabbed the guard in the stomach. The guard doubled over, and Peter yanked his gun from the holster. Just as he had it aimed towards Evans, all the guards jumped on top of him. Wresting the gun from his grip, the same person punched him square in the face and he felt electric shock wrack through his body.

Peter’s ear starts ringing and his breathing feels muffled, at the same time all the guards stood back up. With his glazed over eyes he sees Evans whispering something to a guard, who is also carrying the injured guard. They both promptly left the room. 

The boy continued to convulse on the floor, volts of electricity surge through his body. 

“Well Petey,” Evans said pointedly, “you need to learn all actions had consequences,"

The collar went dead and his body stilled. One henchman held his wrist to the floor and the other held his shoulder to the floor. At that moment the guard stepped back in with a sledgehammer. Before Peter could even beg, Evans pounded Peter's pinned down arm with the hammer over, and over, and over… 

Chapter Text

Day Seven

The plan is done.

There were two parts. A recording device, a microphone if you will. And the transmitter. 

The recording device he could do in his sleep, honestly could finish within 10 minutes in his old lab. But in this new lab (or should he say junk room) there was no telling how long it could take. The transmitter is a stretch but hopefully he can make it. (He has to.)

Tony’s hands were constantly shaking, almost ripping the blueprint in half with his tremors. He hasn’t really slept since he came here. Sure he accidently fell asleep here and there, but nowhere near enough to go into the REM cycle. He felt like he was seeing everything through a different lens. This lens is darker, murkier. His body wasn’t connected together anymore. Instead each limb felt like it was moving on its own, even when it wasn’t supposed to. 

Honestly, he can handle the pure exhaustion, or the tremors, even helping Evans with world domination (or whatever he wanted to do. The worst part about being stuck in this shit hole is hearing Peter’s screams and whimpers and not being able to do anything. He fantasizes getting his Iron Man suit, breaking down the wall, saving him, and bringing him to get burgers.

Burgers.

Fuck. 

It chokes him as he realises that if he just didn’t get burgers, if he waited another hour, if he could suck it up and ignored his rumbling stomach, Peter wouldn’t be here. 

I am such a selfish dick, if I just…

Tony’s eyes glazed over, his thoughts wandered to infinite possibilities. His hands continued to splint the wires (a guard brought him a handful of wires with his dinner) as he was somewhere else. He distantly heard the door open, but wasn’t able to turn around. Soon Evans came into view and his mouth was moving. But Tony’s ear were echoing his thoughts. A bright too bright screen was shoved at his eyes. His minions pinned down Peter's good arm and Evans pounded it to oblivion. Fortunately, Peter passed out after the first hit, but Evans continued to rain down the hammer on his skinny arm. The video kept going and Tony’s hands moved before his brain could stop them. 

Tony was doing it. He was choking Evans. The slimy bastard’s eyes bulged out and his face turned purple, while Tony’s was eerily calm. 

Hands, many hands, threw him away. He landed hard on his tail bone, but he just layed there. Not panting, or growling, just a firm and stoic expression. Guards held him down, he was splayed out like a starfish, and Evans locked eyes with him, his mouth moving, and pressed a button on a remote.

Tony didn’t know if it was real or his ears playing tricks but he heard muffled shouting. The man fought against the guards trying to get to Evans. Evans never broke eye contact, and after several minutes he pressed the button again and the shouting stopped. Everyone left and Tony stayed laying on the floor, trying to sooth the quiet whimpers coming from the other side of the wall. 

*

Was Peter in his body? Your body isn’t supposed to feel like this.

His arm… God, can this even be an arm anymore? 

The limb was completely black and blue, the array of colours abruptly stops at his wrists. His bone is reduced to dust and fragments, the skin is nearly flat with the occasional bumps from the uneven bone fragments. 

The pain was inhuman. He couldn’t scream without jostling his arm so he just let a river of silent tears run down his face. He added this to the mental list in his head of his injuries. 

Dislocated/Relocated shoulder

Ripped leg

Destroyed arm

His left shoulder, his right arm, and his left leg all competed for his attention. Everything was indescribable pain.

He wished to have his arm cut off. At least then the pain will only be at the severed limb, his entire arm was pulsating. He was afraid to move, not wanting to hear a crunch from bone fragments rubbing against each other.

Just as his tears started to dry up his collar turned back on. Peter arched his back and stayed rigid as he let the currents flow through him. A never ended scream came from his grinding teeth. Finally, after what had to have been 5 minutes, the electricity stopped. He immediately relaxed before being reminded of his arm. 

The door swung open and Evans stormed inside. Peter only turned his head, still stayed laying on the ground. Evans had purple finger shaped bruises on his neck. The guards ran in with him, looking flustered. 

“Beat him,” Evans growled under his breath. 

Immediately the guards started to rain down punch after punch only on the boy's face. Peter tried to fight back but he quickly realized it was useless.

By the time the guards stepped back, Peter's face was so swollen, bruised and bleeding that it didn't even look human anymore. 

Peter's head lolled to face Evans, seeing he had a satisfying smirk on his face. He heard one last thing before he passed out.

“Soon you will learn, it's useless to fight me,” Evans sneered.

*

Strong arms hugged him.

May’s voice filtered through, “I’ll wake you up soon sweetie,”

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

A head rested on his shoulder, hair tickling him. A sturdy hand did a familiar hand shake with his.

“This class is so boring,” MJ whispered in his ear.

“We’ll wake you up once it’s done,” Ned said.

Dark.

Dark.

Dark.

Warm, callaused hands held him. 

“You need to rest, kid,” Tony’s therapeutic voice said.

D

 A

  R

   K

    N

     E

      S

       S

*

And Peter did learn. 

Three Months Later

Peter wakes up everyday with death on his mind.  

Chapter Text

Day 97

Peter wakes up everyday with death on his mind.

Well can it even be considered waking up? He is stuck in this nightmare of his life. Days blur together, the only thing that makes him aware that he isn’t dead is the pain. Nearly everyday, or maybe every week (who knows?) Evans comes and pain follows. 

Peter was barely a human, which Evans constantly reminded him of. A useless piece of shit. His favorite phrase. Instead of a living, breathing, human he was a pile of broken bones, filled with a dangerously low amount of blood, wrapped in flesh. He spends his day laying on the ground, thinking about death. 

He never tried to escape again, after all he can’t even stand, or sit up. God, he can’t even lift up his head. Useless piece of shit, no wonder Stark left you! Just laying like a lump, are you really that lazy Petey? 

Since it was impossible to escape, he tried permanently leaving this hellish world. One day he decided he will stop eating, he will die one way or another, might as well leave on his terms. After a few days - or hours - Evans realized what he was doing. Evans knows everything. He knows, he knows, he-

“YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE ME?!” Evans bellowed, “I OWN you Petey,” he growled. 

He punched him so hard his head bounced off the concrete floor. When he woke up there was a feeding tube that was connected to his stomach, and an IV drip infusing water into his bloodstream. Ms. Dinner comes and squeezes brown sludge into the tube and changes the IV bag. They could be poisoning him for all he knew but he didn’t care. 

And Ms. Dinner didn’t seem worried that Peter was going to try to attack her again. At least half of the bones in his body were broken, a good dozens of his muscles and ligaments are torn, and there can’t be more than a few pints of blood in his body. 

His skin is a sickly yellow, wrapped taunt against his shattered bones. Deep, black circles were permanently under his eyes, even though all he felt like he did was sleep. His vision was always glazed over, the edges always blurry and black. He didn’t even bother turning his head, he just always faces the door, waiting to see Evans and feel the pain. 

All that blood loss and hunger must be getting to his head. Sometimes, when his thoughts are louder than his bones crunching against each other, he can hear a man, who sounds so familiar, yelling in frustration. Every time he tries to strain his ears he ends up breathing too hard, jostling all twelve pairs of splintered ribs. 

Every time he hears the shout he feels even more alone. 

Peter thought he felt alone before, when his parents died, when Uncle Ben and later Aunt May passed. But this was different. 

He thought that loneliness would feel like the absence of something, the nothingness of love.

Instead it felt like someone was pushing against his heart, making it wrap around his spine. His lungs were filled with bittersweet memories, leaving no room for air. His vocal cords felt like it was pressing against his throat, trying to escape to scream COME BACK. He could feel the echoes of laughter that never seemed to reach his ears, and when they did they pressed silence rather than warmth. When he squinted he could see silhouettes that never take shape, leaving faster than they came. It felt like a ghost was holding him, because no one else would. It suffocates him more than when the building fell on him, it weighs him down until he can’t move. He has heard people describe it as a blanket, but blankets you can take off. This was a permanent, heavy, cold, thing, that is impossible to shrug off. 

Peter fell back asleep, hoping he wouldn't wake up.

*

Evans flipped his hair out of his eyes.

Stark was taking too long, too fucking long. Ross was getting impatient, threatening to not pay them if it takes any longer. But Evans knew Ross was bluffing, they had this silent agreement. If either of them didn’t keep their promise, the other would not hesitate to rat them out to the FBI.  

Evans entered his Petey’s room, the smell of rotting flesh and depression hit him like a wave. Selene exited his Petey’s room, holding an empty syringe. No doubt feeding him, although sometimes she would forget, either on purpose or by accident. 

Keeps him on edge. She said. 

He has heard Petey muttering about Ms. Dinners, and Evans laughed out loud. 

Very creative. He thought.

For the past month, no guards have come with him, and he wears the glasses that has the camera. He slowly stalks towards Petey, who was definitely awake. His eyes were caked open, but were glassy and grey (if that was even possible).  

His Petey was a lump of yellow flesh, skin so tight you can see each bone and where it’s splintered from. He doesn’t even get up (unable to) to use the washroom, just sits in his own waste, like the filthy animal he is. 

“Hello Petey,” Evans smiled at the sorry excuse for a so-called superhero. 

Petey swallowed in a greeting, which Evans usually let it slide, but today he wanted more. 

Evans cocked his head, “Is that how you greet your favorite person?” 

He took a single finger and pressed it hard against Petey’s broken collarbone, he could hear the bones shifting. Petey gasped in pain, and winced when his crushed ribs nudged his lungs. 

“I-I am so-r,” his Petey wheezed, “r-y. Hel- ugghh- lo Eee-ans,”

Evans took his finger off his collarbone, “Good job, Petey, see it wasn’t too hard,”

He patted his matted and greased down hair, smiling at him, showing his canines. Evans grabbed Petey’s hand, squeezing it tightly. To anyone else this gesture would seem loving or comforting, but Evans knew that every single one of his fingers were broken. 

“See you soon Petey Pie,” Evans cooed, seeing Petey’s face turning red, trying not to screen in anguish. Evans dropped Petey’s hand, watching it bounce off the floor, and Petey breathing a quiet sigh of relief. 

Slamming the door shut, Evans went right next door to Stark. 

“Stark, it is forgetting its manners,” Evans said to announce his arrival. 

Stark was like a mouse or squirrel, he was always moving and jittery. Even when he falls asleep by accident, his leg is bouncing up and down or his mouths are reciting equations.

“I’m almost done,” Stark spoke quickly, he always speaks everything quickly, like he never had enough time. And every sentence he says he mutters it again and again until he is asked another question. 

“Y’know he is barely alive,” Evans commented and then showed the video of Peter whimpering and apologizing. 

Stark’s back was permanently hunched over and he was bouncing on the heels of his feet while watching the video. Once it was finished Evans went to inspect the machine. It looked like an alien satellite with a tiny circle which Evans can only guess was the microphone. 

Evans left the room without saying anything else, which he knew would leave Stark into a frenzy, trying to work harder so he wouldn’t hurt his precious Petey Pie. 

*

Day 97-98 

It was finally, finally done. He was done. He had done it. 

Tony could finally send the signal.

He pressed a series of buttons and pulled tiny levers, the SOS signal should be powerful enough to send through every state in the USA. After the last lever was down, he half expected it to explode, or for Evans to run in, screaming at him. But only eerily silence followed. 

Now he needs to wait. 

Tony could only pray that Peter lasts long enough to be rescued. 

Chapter Text

Tony’s calloused hands could not stop shaking. The signal has been sent, now it was a matter of time until the Avengers come to rescue them. 

They’ll rescue us if they didn't already forget about us.

Tony shook his head, banishing the thoughts. They will come. 

They have to. 

*

98 days thought Natasha 98 days and we still haven't found them. 

They all had deep purple eye bags, and were always waiting for updates from the FBI. But the FBI were extremely useless. They spent most of their time just reviewing facts they already knew. 

The internet was even worse. Everyone had their own opinion, and some crazy theories. Natasha’s personal favourite was that Tony and Peter were alien royalty and they had to go back to their planet to re-claim their throne. A ghost of a smirk danced on her lips as she remembered the first time she read that. 

Clint was brewing everyone coffee, as if more caffeine will somehow help them figure out where they’re friends were. Sighing, the archer looked up from the coffee machine. The living room looked like a paper store exploded. Every surface was covered in maps, suspects or paper scribbled with pen. Red strings hung like spiderwebs everywhere. Looking like a mess of red rather than connecting ideas together. 

“I just got a signal,” Friday said, her voice crackling to life.

Wanda, who was lying on the floor, quickly sat up, paper rustling next to her, “What?”

“I just received an SOS signal,” Friday replied, urgency dripping into her voice, “I have traced it back to Fort Tilden, which appears to be an abandoned Military base in New York, Queens.”

The Avengers all just stared at each other before Steve yelled, “Suit up! Wheels up in 5 minutes!”

They all scrambled to gather their weapons. 

This is it Natasha thought while zipping up her suit and loading her Widow Bites, we can finally kill those bastards. 

*

Day 98

Peter looked at his reflection from the pool of his blood. His face was mutilated. And not the cute type with a few scratches that makes him look stronger. His right eye was swollen like a balloon, unable to see anything from his eye. One more hit and his eye might actually explode. His nose was crooked, broken multiple times and he tried to fix it even more times. His entire face had purple bruises, and open wounds that looked like something out of a zombie movie. Peter’s face looked like a literal monster tore into it.  

The door opened and the monster stepped in. 

“Hey Petey,” Evans smiled like he was enjoying joke, “I heard Ms. Dinner hasn’t fed you since yesterday.” he crouched to look Peter better in the eyes but he still stood menacingly above him, “Are you hungry.”

Peter’s stomach spasmed with the thought of actual food, his muscles viciously contracted around the feeding tube. 

Evans’ smile was carved into his face while taking out a small pocket knife, grabbing Peter’s hand, he started to saw at his left ring finger. Peter let out a choked cry, jerking under Evans’ unwavering grasp. His finger fell off, bouncing off the cement floors, his hand spewed blood like a broken fire hydrant. 

Evans grabbed the severed finger like it was candy and bared his teeth at Peter. 

“Dinner time Petery,” Evans said in a sing-song voice, “Remember you have to finish dinner before you get dessert.”

And with that Evans shoved the ring finger into Peter's mouth, like he was trying to find Peter’s uvula. Peter choked, trying to cough out his own finger. Metallica and the salty taste of flesh filled his mouth as tears pricked in his eyes.  

“Mmm, you don’t want dessert?” Evans  crooned, “Ungrateful brat. No wonder Stark left you.” 

And with those haunting parting words he got up and left, leaving the finger in Peter’s mouth. 

Peter gathered all the strength he could muster and spit out his finger. It landed a foot away from his face, already starting to stink of rotting flesh. His stump was now dribbling blood rather than squirting it. Which was fortunate, he really couldn’t afford to lose any more blood, but also unfortunate, he will probably still be alive once the bleeding completely stops. 

*

The flight to Fort Tilden wasn’t even 5 minutes long. It was long enough to have the engines roar but engines stilled just as quickly. 

“Peter and Tones were so close,” Clint mumbled on the Quintet, “they didn’t even leave the state. But it took us so long…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Everyone knew that in some way they failed their friends. 

“At least now we can rip apart everyone who even thought about hurting them,” Natasha growled, tightening her grip on her holster. 

“What if..” Wanda whispered, “what if where too late… what if they’re not…”

Everyone sucked in a breath, they all were thinking it but only Wanda was brave enough to say it. At some point all their minds wondered there, but it was such an awful thought that made painful goosebumps ride up their arms. 

“No,” Steve said firmly, before anyone else could think about ‘What Ifs?’, “They won’t be dead.”

Before anyone could add on to this feverish conversation, Friday notified them that they landed, and that SHIELD and the FBI had the ETA of 10 minutes. The Quinjet landed far enough not to be heard or seen, but close enough so they could trek on foot to Fort Tilden. 

They all stood up. Clint hardened his grip on his bow, Natasha adjusted her holsters, Wanda cracked her knuckles and Steve adjusted his shield. 

As the ramp slowly went down, they all knew this was it. They were finally going to get their family back. 

*

Peter woke up when the needle from his collar administered the fluid that suppressed his powers. His beaten ears perked up when he heard alarms, shouting and gunshots. Groaning, he figured it was just another one of his hallucinations of Tony coming to save him. He closed his eyes, chasing sleep once more.