(Happy birthday, Brentinator! Thanks for another year dealing with my antics :) hope it's a great year, kickstarted by kitties no less!)
Tony's pov
Peter was due over 2 hours ago to work on projects with me. He has not even called, which is weird. An uneasy feeling settling in my stomach, I called out
"FRI, give me Peter's location."
She calculated it in 0.0000000001 milliseconds, but it felt like an eternity. Downtown Queens. Maybe he had just forgotten, which, hurts a bit; but at least he is safe. Then I saw something that knocked all the wind out of my body. The GPS connected to both AI's I put on his watch was recalculating his location... straight for the Hudson River. And considering he doesn't have a car, was not slinging, or walking; something tells me it was not his idea, and someone had him; and was not taking him simply out for a swim.
FRI broke me out of my worst-case-scenario trainwreck thought process
"Sir, would you like me to activate spy mode on the watch so you can see what Peter is seeing?"
I nodded numbly, knowing I most likely would not like what I was about to see. And I was right. About everything. He was bounded and gagged, in the back of a truck; and someone with a clown mask held a gun to his head. Peter hates clowns, and guns. His feet were shackled and had weights tied to them; they were going to leave him to drown in the river... I had no time to waste, calling my suit to assemble. With that, I was off.
Peter's pov
This was it, this is how I was going to die. Alone. I'm supposed to be an Avenger, and I couldn't even stop my captors or free myself. I'm a joke. I tried t break free once more, only to fail
Tony's pov
I was so close to him. I could hear his voice. Then, I saw him. Restrained, shackled, bruised and bleeding. I quickly subdued the masked morons, who turned out to be wannbe groupies of Mysterio. I grabbed him just as he was about to hit the water, freeing him from his bounds as he crumbled into my arms, crying. I noticed his right arm was bent at an impossible angle, most obviously broken; and took him to Helen, whispering reassurances to him the whole way there. He fell asleep on the way, only jostling awake when he was placed on the medical bed. His eyes darted open, his arm grabbing mine, as he whimpered
"Don't leave me. Please, don't go; Dad."
That last word was spoken quietly, but I heard him. sitting near his casted and elevated leg, I smiled
"Never. Get some rest. I love you, son."
He smiled and fell asleep; cuts, broken bones, and bruises alredy starting to heal. Quicker than he and I ever would.