A/N: I don't own or profit from anything MCU related. I just have a lot of feelings for a certain heroic billionaire and his precious spider-son.
If Avengers 4 truly gives us what we all dread…and our beloved Tony Stark actually…ugh, I can't even finish this sentence…
IF somethingwere to happen to him, and he goes out in all his heroic glory…well then this is my messedup angst to follow after it…
That's right…something that hasn't even happened yet is rolling around in my brain and will not leave me alone…Hence the reason this little piece is very vague. Take it as is. I don't even know why my emotions do this crap to me…especially so late at night…
"I want you to call for him."
Peter struggles against the bonds keeping his hands suspended in the air, his diaphragm and back muscles scream for relief but he fights and kicks anyway, tears streaming down black and blue cheeks as he shakes his head in a feeble attempt to counter the command.
He's actually grateful the blindfold blocks out the face of his enemy.
The voice, alone, makes him tremble….
A voice that's broken his spirit in only three days…hasn't stopped filling his head.
He's just spilled everything he knows to it….telling it anything he can think of just to make the pain go away.
They promised it would stop.
Peter knows his time is up. He's no longer of any use to this foe he cannot see…so why…why can't the voice just end it? Why is it making him call out for a dead man? Mr. Tony Stark….Iron Man…The center of his world…was gone forever…sacrificed so that he and the rest of the human race could see another day…so why…WHY!?
"Come on then. Call out for him just like the whiney, little brat I know you are," the voice says again, "It's no fun to kill if there isn't at least a bit of a struggle.
Peter goes completely limp as a final act of defiance and when his captor roughly grabs his face, the boy spits in the direction he's forced in, satisfied when he hears it hit the villain along with a string of curses.
Searing pain follows in his side as sobs tear from his throat. He still doesn't know what kind of a weapon it is…only that it feels as if his flesh is being ripped apart and burnt to a crisp.
Should Peter Parker happen to pull through this…even if there is, yet another, miraculous escape and somehow…he gets the chance to live again, Spiderman will not…
…because being a hero means bravery.
It means you get back up…that you don't need to be rescued all the time…that you're…
I'm just a kid…I'm just a stupid kid…
'Please, please! I'm down here! I'm down here, I'm stuck!'
'I don't wanna go! I don't wanna go!'
He hears his own voice played back in his head and it causes little noises of anguish to bubble out of his lips.
Mr. Stark always made him feel braver than he actually was…
And now he's dead.
"Say it!"
More pain…So much pain.
"Say it so I can finally put an end to your misery!"
And so Peter pretends…
It's the only way he can override any leftover defiance still stored up inside.
He allows himself to believe…just for the briefest of moments that Tony's coming for him…that his mentor is alive…breathing…and so, so worried for him…flying like a madman through the night sky…on his way…on his way…
'Just a bit longer, Pete. Hang on…I'm almost there, kiddo.'
The pain of bringing such a fantasy to life makes him cry like a baby. His head falls back as he does, mouth hanging open as he heaves and shudders.
"M-m-mister St-stark," he gasps out.
"Again," the voice commands.
"Mr. Stark….Mr. Stark!…MR. STARK!"
A sinister laugh echoes off the walls, but Peter continues, letting hysteria wash over him, allowing it to make him yearn for something impossible.
As he wails out the name again and again, he thinks of the mother and father he never got to grow up with…Uncle Ben lying in a pool of his own blood…and Tony…someone who could've healed those festering wounds, but left a lethal one of his own instead.
He feels a cold pistol press against his forehead and his enhanced senses shoot their signals from head to toe, warning him of imminent death.
"I know it hurts," the voice says, moving mere inches from Peter's face, "Knowing daddy Iron Man can't come to your rescue anymore."
Peter takes shallow, little breaths through his teeth, body clenching as he prepares for the shot.
A crashing sound so loud and sudden makes him scream, twisting his bonds as he tries to dodge whatever it is.
"Daddy's here,"
It's a different voice…metallic…low and deadly.
Peter knows who it is…knows that his mind is completely to blame for it.
. .
He doesn't want to lose it…doesn't want to give in to this insanity.
He hears the familiar high pitched sound of a repulsor blasting beside him…hears the struggle of metal on metal…feels the heat from the explosions and the vibrations of rapid gunfire.
Shouting…
Taunting…
Unadulterated rage….
Then it's over….
And there's nothing…
Just silence…
And he's scared…he's so scared.
He needs a sound, any sound before-
"Pete…"
He startles violently when he feels a touch on his arm.
It isn't Mr. Stark…
He refuses…
"No…" Peter warns, "No…no…NO!"
"Shhh, Pete-Pete, hang on."
"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"
"Kid, it's me. It's Tony."
"No!" Peter wails, bucking backwards even as he feels familiar hands taking off the blindfold.
He squeezes his eyes shut the moment he sees a hint of light, unwilling to surrender to such delusions.
"You're not here. You're not here! You're dead! You're dead! I know you're dead! I don't believe you!"
"Buddy, please…" Tony's voice begs, "Please, stop…just take a breath. Let me help you-no-stop struggling and I promise I'll explain everything."
Peter's bonds break after a loud explosion directly above him and he face plants hard onto dirt. He had imagined it would be concrete.
"Sorry, kiddo-"
Peter still won't look at his rescuer. He takes a fervent swing when they try touching him again, but he's no match for the Iron suit. It grabs for him and pins him to this nightmare imposter of Tony Stark.
"Open your eyes, kid," the billionaire says, running fingers through Peter's matted, bloody hair.
When the teen twists again, Tony catches his hand and brings it up to his face, moving the skinny fingers across his cheek and the well groomed facial hair at his chin. "See…it's okay," he murmurs.
"You left me!" Peter cries. "You left me!"
"Shhh-"
"You left m-"
"Shhh, Buddy, Shhh…"
The suit disappears and Peter feels himself engulfed in warmth, the gentle shushing continues through his guardian's lips that are now resting against the crown of his head.
He gives in then, because how can he not when it's this real…with Mr. Stark cradling his head, still trying to calm him down and convince him that this is truth…that he's not just dreaming again?
And for once…
Peter can ignore the persistent beeping of the IV he's hooked up to…
He can block out the doctors, nurses and visitors that continue to try and rouse him…can dismiss the breakfast tray that's wafting such delicious smells up and into his nose.
Because Mr. Stark said he was here and Mr. Stark would never lie to him. So, Peter's going to trust this time… and he burrows himself deeper into comfort's awaiting arms.
…
What did I just write?…I am going to leave this to everyone's interpretation. Did Peter really dream it all up, or did it actually happen?
Is he in the hospital because of this unseen villain, or because he's actually losing it?
…
I haven't written angst in awhile and I feel EXTREMELY rusty! I just needed this for some reason…because I'm prepared for the worst in Avengers 4….