Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this new story whooooo!:D Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.
They have been in the car for about 5 hours, and Peter is starting to get very bored.
He tries not to let it show though, alternating between playing games on his phone and staring out the fogged window at the bare and dead trees around them. Tony sits in the drivers seat next to him, nodding along to the radio and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel when a particular part of the song hits.
The man glances over once the radio goes quiet for a minute, eyeing his son with an amused smirk. The clouds above them casts his face in a milky shadow, his teeth glowing in the semi-darkness.
"Having fun there, kiddo?" He asks, adjusting his grip on the wheel as the tires crunch over some frozen dirt.
Peter's head snaps over toward Tony from where he was watching the clouds roll in outside, his doe eyes widening as he nods almost frantically. "Yeah, yeah Dad, lots of fun, yep."
The genius chuckles, reaching over to ruffle his kid's hair. Peter half-heartedly pushes his hand away, a small pout pushing his bottom lip out. Leaning back more fully against the seat, the spiderling rests his chin against his palm, letting out a small sigh.
"Don't worry, bud." Tony says once his laughter dies off. "We just have to cross through the mountains and then we will be at the Convention, I promise."
"Why did we just take the plane? That would have been so much faster."
Tony rolls his eyes, flicking on his windshield wipers as small droplets of rain start to hit the car. "What's the fun in that? I though you liked hanging out with me, Pete."
Peter just scoffs, reaching up and draws squiggles against the fog of the window with his finger, the condensation making his skin wet. "Why would you ever think that, Dad? I mean, it's not like I spent a week packing because I wanted to hang out with you or anything."
Tony laughs again. "Why did you come then, kiddo? It wasn't for these amazing views right?"
Peter looks out the window, squinting to see the flash of brown and yellow of dead grass and trees as they zoom by. "Nope, it was for the promise of free food."
Both chuckle at that, the atmosphere lighthearted and warm even as the chill of outside pounds against the car, the rain mixing with the cold and turning into the thin sleet. After letting his Dad run his fingers through his hair, the teen turns back toward the window, letting the lull of the car's movements and he steady thump of his father's heartbeat, barely detectable above the pounding of the storm outside.
Without meaning too, Peter lets his eyes slip shut, falling asleep just as the first snowflakes of the year get trapped against the chilled metal surrounding them.
The sudden jolt of the car stopping is what wakes the boy a few hours later.
He sits up, rubbing one fist over his dry eyes, watching as Tony starts to reach toward him.
"Hey bud, we're just going to get some dinner real quick. Do you want to stay out here or come inside with me?"
Peter wipes away the mist from the window, looking out into the outside as the bright neon light next to the car blinks on and off. They are parked in front of a small gas station, the building appearing to be the only structure in a few hundred miles, the rest of the world dark and drenched in a now steady stream of powder. A few cars sit around them, blowing steam into the air.
"I'll come with you." Peter answers, unbuckling and opening his door.
The blast of cold wind makes his eyes water, his hair becoming damp with small droplets of quickly meting snow. Zipping up his jacket with twitching fingers, the teen follows his Dad up the curb, careful of the ice underfoot. The door make a small ringing sound as the man opens it, the warm air wrapping around Peter as they step inside.
"Stay close to me, okay?" Tony whispers, dragging his son closer to his side as he surveys the area with sharp eyes.
Peter has to physically hold back an eye roll at his father's protectiveness, choose to not argue. Both Starks make their way over to the back counter, Peter looking around the brightly lit interior with a sleepy gaze.
They order their food, the cashier—Gary, by his name tag—not even looking surprised by the random appearance of Tony Stark to his store. His old face is sagging, his eyes haunted as they look down at Peter. The boy shudders, turning away and instead picking out a candy bar and setting it on the counter.
They pay, the man giving a muffled grumble when Tony hands him a $50, his old hands shaking as he rings them up.
"Thanks." The billionaire says once the cashier hands them the bag, handing it to Peter and sets one protective hand on the boy's back. "Have a nice night."
Peter gives a small wave, his insides twisting as Gary stares after them with blank green eyes. Both father and son are just at the door when the man speaks, his voice raspy and ridden with elderly tremors.
"You be careful out there, Stark. Most people who go up those mountains this time of year—well, the never make it down."
Tony opens his mouth to report back, turning around with his eyes blazing, but Gary is already gone, the back door swinging slowly on its hinges, the squeaking carrying across the eerily silent store.
Tire tracks litter the ground when they walk back out, some deep and the color of tar as the snow continues to pile up.
Peter feels a chill travel up his spine that has nothing to do with the cold surrounding them. His grip on his father tightens, and he almost doesn't let go to get back into the car. Once in, however, the boy buckles with shaking fingers, jumping as Tony slams his door shut and backs out of the lot, the whole place empty now save for a beat up truck in the corner.
The tires slide in the snow as they turn back onto the main road, the headlights illuminating the snowflakes as they hit against the windshield.
Peter opens his candy bar, biting the chocolate and letting it melt against his tongue, the normally sweet flavor falling bitter as the cashier's eyes turn over in his mind. The boy sets the bar down after a few more bites, stomach rolling.
"That guy—" Tony says after a couple of seconds of silence, pressing the break lightly as they turn a corner. "—in the store, he was old. He probably couldn't even remember his own name if he wasn't wearing that tag of his."
Peter lets out a small, half-hearted laugh, his stomach still churning even as the lights of the store fad away into the blackness. "Y-yeah, no doubt about that."
His dad looks over at him, face set in a stare of seriousness, his eyes reflecting the shine of the headlights. "You know, buddy, that I would never let anything happen to you, right?"
"I know, trust me, Dad." Peter swallows, lifting his collar up higher against his neck as his body shudders. "I know."
The billionaire studies his face for a second longer, dark gaze roaming over his son's pale features. Finally, the man turns away, reaching over to ruffle Peter's hair, eyes squinting against the powder as the snow howls outside.
They drive for about thirty more minutes before the car comes to a sudden and jolting halt.
Tony lets out a muffled curse as he continues to press the gas, the sound of the tires squishing against the wet mush causing the hair to stand up on the back of Peter's neck. With shaking fingers, he reaches over, hanging onto his Dad's coat sleeve.
"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice high, like a frightened little boy. "Why did we stop?"
Tony sighs harshly, gripping his son's hand with his own as his other runs through his hair. "We must be stuck. I'm going to go see if I can pull us out."
"I'll come too, see if I can help—"
Panic grips Tony's heart, stabbing through his chest and forcing his grip to tighten against his boy's fingers. "No. No, kiddie, you stay here okay? Keep the car warm for me and all that."
The man releases his son's hand with a twinge of regret, ignoring the way Peter's scared complaints tear at his insides. Sparing one last quick glance at his shaking child, Tony hops out of the car, pushing against the door when it gets stuck into the rising snow.
Finally, he makes it out, the world pitch black and as cold as a freezer.
The woods around them are completely silent, no birds chirping or movement to disrupt the haunting stillness. Feeling the first rise of panic threaten to choke him, the superhero actives his gauntlet, letting the familiar blue glow illuminate the area around them. He walks around the car, his footsteps crunching against the snow and his breath fogging in the limited light.
As he moves, the man flashes the light around him and begins to wonder if it would be a good idea to try and get the shovel out of the trunk. He had just made it over to the passenger side of the car, Peter's frightened face peering out at him, when he notices the hole in the tire.
Shaking his head in almost hysterical disbelief, the man circles around again, stopping only once to flash his son a reassuring smile when the boy reaches out toward him.
The billionaire, after checking again and again and again, sees something that strikes fear into his very core, his chest halting as the cold air stalls in his lungs.
All four tires are slashed.
And a trail of footprints, staggering away from the car and already getting covered by fresh snow, leads into the pitch black woods beyond.
A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!:)