Chapter 10:
A/N: My sincerest apologies for the delay, peeps. Once again, the events in this chapter were extremely difficult to write! However, you won't have to wait as long on Chapter 11, as the story board is complete…if you're brave enough to read it after this, that is. (T^T)
That being said, this chapter has some warnings. I promise, nothing is worse than you'll find in a PG-13 movie, but there will be elements of death, killing and just, all around dark themes…This is a Titanic AU, lest any of you have forgotten.
A small fact/sidenote: I read somewhere, recently, that we have to keep in mind that the passengers of Titanic weren't wearing rubber soled shoes. Most wore leather because rubber was so expensive. So, if you can imagine yourself trying to climb at a 45 degree angle while wearing bowling shoes…How utterly terrifying…
The more I research for this story, the deeper level of empathy I feel towards the poor victims of this tragedy.
Finally, thank you so much to all of the people who take the time to review and comment on my story! I am a loser for not replying to you all, but I treasure each and every one of you.
…..
The soul surviving criminal on the ship weaves through an easy guise of crowded panic like a snake in the grass, his battered face fuming scarlet with veins protruding from his thick neck.
The hired lackeys and the officers keeping them captive, have all drowned minutes prior due to a rush of water crashing its way through the holding room. It had merely been a stroke of luck when the wave hit his body just right before throwing him out into the hall where he could grab a hold of a metal pipe to pull himself to safety.
There were only two objectives now...
…kill...and survive.
He had turned to beast many years ago, but he's never been a starved and desperate one, until now.
Steely blue eyes scan faces that match his prey but to no avail. There was a high probability that the pair had escaped.
He knows what lies in that case...and if Tony was reunited with his little cur-
The bald man slams his fist hard in to the nearest wall, climbing the stairs towards the promenade with a growing sense of urgency. He could only hope that his achieved goal in separating the two had stalled their plans long enough for him to get what he wants.
He always gets what he wants...
...one way or another.
...
April 15th, 1912
2:10 am
It takes Tony far too long to reach the top deck again.
People swarm in frightened clusters like bees with no hive, causing the millionaire's hand to grip tighter to Peter's as he drags the boy behind him. Nothing prepares him for what he sees once they meet the open air.
The sea water has already consumed the entire front end of the ship, beginning to tilt the stern upwards to reveal the liner's gigantic propellers.
They had minutes.
The case could have easily slid down the wooden deck by now.
If it's not still sitting by the railing, there's no saving his kid.
"Let's go!" he cries, shoving his way through, just praying that somehow the case is still there...propped...hidden...within reach...
The sudden resistance on his arm, makes him stop and turn back to the boy, struck with the frightful sight that is his charge.
How had he not noticed Peter's worsening condition? Was adrenaline so blinding that he's missed the ashen skin...the bluish tint of his lips?
"Dad…the stars…" Peter murmurs, tired brown eyes blinking slowly up at the night sky, "…They're so clear up th-…Let's just…Can we sit down for a second?"
The boy's ears catch the ship's band playing a soothing version of Nearer My God to Thee somewhere off in the distance and he doesn't wait for permission, falling against a wall bench and looking up at Tony...
...and that music is just so peaceful. He just wants to listen for a second...
"Get up!" Tony shouts, terror in his tone. "On your feet!"
When Peter doesn't obey, he rips the boy up, pulling on the frozen, wet sleeves still adhering to thin arms. His heart shatters when the teenager apologizes over and over for something that's beyond his control…for forgetting the blankets on the lifeboat, for being careless.
'I know,' Tony thinks, 'Your body needs sleep...warmth...care.
...all luxuries you can't afford if you're to see another sun rise.'
"Put this on," he says, taking off his coat and helping Peter in to it.
The older man's fears continue to grow when the teen doesn't protest like normal, just let's his limbs be manhandled in to sleeves as he stares longingly back at the bench.
"Please, da-"
"Nope. Come on, we're almost there, kid."
An explosion sound from deep within the belly of the ship brings more shouting and panic as the duo halts and stares at the glossy wood beneath their feet.
"What is it?" Peter breaths, sobered enough from the ominous noise.
And then another loud boom…
and another…
and another…
"Go, Pete. Go! Go! Go! Come on!"
This time, Tony doesn't cater to Peter's frailty…just hangs on to those clammy fingers while heading straight for what they need, hoping his charge finds the will to continue just until he can get him in to a lifeboat.
...just until then.
Something forces Peter's hand away from his and he fights against the human current before he can lose the depleted teenager again.
Relief floods in his veins when he sees the boy has a sound enough mind to grip the side rail until he can reach him.
Only then, does Tony catch the many bodies of the dead and dying floating in the icy waters below, white lifebelts making each one indistinguishable from the rest.
"No, don't!" he says, tearing Peter away from the edge and covering his hands over the boys ears. "Don't look at it...Don't listen. It's okay, bud."
The millionaire could have laughed bitterly at his own words if he wasn't doing his darndest to protect; there's nothing but chaos, fear and casualties in every direction his head turns...and yet, he could say far more absurd things than this if it means keeping Peter calm until the end.
"I'm not scared."
Tony hears the words...sees those familiar, brown eyes staring back in to his with every bit of sincerity, as if the boy holds a newly-discovered peace in his soul since leaping back on to the doomed vessel.
"You're with me."
The millionaire presses his lips together, blinking and swallowing down the lump in his throat.
Dash it all, if he wasn't a fighter, he'd just wrap this kid up in his arms and go huddle down on a bench somewhere, watching the stars in their courses above before the sea pulls them down to Titanic's final resting place, and consequently, theirs' as well.
...But he can't do it.
He'll gamble those last few seconds of life away in scrambling for a flicker of hope...won't surrender before the final breath is spent from his lungs.
He gives the teen another quick kiss on the head, a response without words that means giving up was never going to be an option while he's still alive.
"Come on," he urges, sending them both running further towards the ever ascending hull. "Come on, Pete!"
They're climbing now, leather shoes slipping a bit as the place where they'd parted last finally comes in to view.
It's there.
Dear, God. It's actually there.
Tony doesn't even realize how heavy the doubt's been weighing on his shoulders until he sees the suitcase with his own two eyes. He lets out a puff of air when he's within reach of the leather piece of luggage sitting tucked against an indented white wall. It's somehow nestled away from being kicked down in the fluid barrage of feet and falling passengers.
"Hey, kid," the older man says, gearing up to get his boy off this death ride, "You still with me?"
Peter doesn't reply even as Tony grabs the coveted item and spins them both around to continue their ascent to the back of the ship.
They need an inconspicuous area, but there's none to be found; the older man surrenders the idea that there's any way to keep what he's about to do under wraps.
A large iron crane on the port side, facing the stern would have to suffice; it conceals them enough to minimize the chances of being mobbed, at the very least.
The moment he stops, Peter leans himself against the curved metal surface, clutching ahold of it for dear life as his entire body works on warming itself. The tremors mixed with the slanting of the ship make it almost impossible to stand upright anymore.
"Buddy? Listen, you gotta stay awake," his guardian says, giving his hand a squeeze before bending down to open the case. "Remember when you wanted to know what I was hiding back home at the manor? Huh?...Pete?"
"…Yeah."
"Time for the big reveal, kiddo."
A towering figure emerges from around the crane beside Peter.
"Give me the case, Tony," he says, reaching for the teen's frail frame.
Tony springs up, abandoning the luggage and slamming into Obadiah before he can snatch his son away as the two of them crash hard onto the deck.
"You lost your chance when you listened to that spineless captain, Stark."
With no witty retorts, Tony responds by slamming his forehead into the face of his adversary.
Blood erupts from Obadiah's nose for the second time in one night. Tony's fury is felt with every punch, bite, knee and elbow he delivers to his punching bag of an enemy.
The two men begin sliding down the deck. Obadiah extends his arms pushing the crazed parent away from him and positioning his knee in between them.
A heave, with all his strength, sends Tony flying backwards off of him, causing a wicked smirk to form on his bruised and bloody face.
It quickly melts away as the millionaire collides with the case, falling with it, down the stairs and out of sight.
"Noooo!"
The primal scream tears through the teenager's throat as he watches Tony's body collide with other passengers and parts of the ship like a ragdoll before disappearing in to a swirling abyss of death.
"Damn," Obadiah growls, rising to get towards the highest point of the ship now that his escape plan is gone.
Peter's mouth gapes open, silent sobs wracking from deep within his stomach.
Dry heaves take their turn as if his entire body rejects what he's just witnessed, saliva leaking down his chin and on to the tilted wood beneath his hands and knees.
And then rage…
It creeps in, unnoticed, while despair has him bound, courting hysteria to achieve its goals through the shattered teenager.
He hasn't the strength to combat such emotion, feeling its effects burning in to his blood stream until it all but consumes him.
Peter springs back up like a mad dog on the criminal's heels as they reach the highest point of the stern, leaping on to Obadiah's back with feral vehemence.
Screams of wild agony burn his throat as he rips at the man's suit, driving him towards the very edge of the ship with borrowed power.
"You killed him! You killed him!" he wails.
He doesn't feel Obadiah reach back to rip out his hair, nor the blow he takes to the diaphragm when the bigger man finally brings him down. There's only Tony falling again and again in sickening repetition and it's never going to end...
His enemy's back slams against the railing and the teenager fights harder when he sees how close he is to getting his revenge.
"Get off, you rabid little prick!" Obadiah shouts, working to peel Peter away and gain enough leverage to throw the teen down the deck, like his father.
When he fails to do so, he tries a different tactic, climbing up and over the guard rail to dominate the situation.
Peter glares upwards, panting hard through his bared teeth and swinging his arms to try and grab Obadiah's legs. The bulky man kicks him ruthlessly in the head to counter with mad laughter following.
"Just die already, boy!" he cries, "Go on! Say hello to your dad for me!"
The bulky man tries for another kick, losing his balance when the ship moves faster than expected. He gives one loud, horrific shriek before falling backwards off of the vessel.
Peter squeezes his eyes shut just as the man's body pings off the massive propeller blade with a sickening thud.
A small splash among hundreds of others, make tiny, white ripples in the deep blue below…
And with this, Obadiah Stane meets his end.
Peter doesn't expect an outstretched arm to grab him in the next moment…nor does he realize it's Captain Rogers until he's forced around to meet the soldier's eyes.
"Kid?"
"I wanna go h-home," he whimpers, voicing his childish needs to the trusted adult, "…w-want him…"
Steve shifts the rope he's been carrying, over to his left arm before pulling off his own lifebelt and sliding it over Peter. Calloused fingers swiftly tie the strings at the boy's sides.
The soldier's face stays ever stoic, a few tears spilling on their own accord.
His friend is gone.
…And now, he's been left in charge of Tony's everything...this sweet boy…
…a boy who should've been his friend's redemption, not his end.
He crumbles more when Peter grabs on to his waist, silent and broken with just enough fight to keep himself from falling to his death.
"I've got you," is all the soldier can say, swallowing down the lump in his throat.
His eyes scan across the many terror-stricken children, the hopeless parents, the weeping elderly, and the quiet lovers awaiting the inevitable. Never, in his life, has he felt such an all-consuming hopelessness.
The stern continues its vertical ascent until the soldier can feel Peter sliding downward.
He leads frozen fingers back on to the railing bars.
"Hold on, real tight!" he instructs, laying his larger hands over the boy's, and sheltering him with his body.
Peter breathes in short, little breaths. His brown eyes widen while he works to hold himself in place, feet slipping and dangling at times as the bars begin to slant above their heads.
"Dad-dad-dad-dad-dad- "he whispers with each exhale.
"It's almost over, son…almost over."
The teen can feel Captain Roger's breath tickle his ear, but the comforting words won't reach his hysterical mind.
A thunderous crack resounds from the ship as she splits in half down the middle, her bright lights spark and flash vibrantly before every passenger is engulfed in utter darkness. Metal scrapes against metal, making a horrific keening noise, as if the Titanic, itself, now laments her own death.
The stern falls with violent force as Peter's instincts drive him to climb up and on to the bars, vaguely aware of the hands tugging back on his lifebelt.
"No!" Steve cries, unable to brace himself from the impact of the fall as he tries to tackle the boy.
The vessel smashes back down on to the water's surface, its last remaining smokestacks falling and rolling off the split deck like tin cans.
And Peter's gone.
…nowhere to be found in the great, settling waves of splashing victims and frigid corpses.
Taking a deep breath, Steve doesn't hesitate to leap in after him, plunging into the icy sea with reckless abandon. He has seconds before the sinking titan rips them down with it…
And if he dies trying to save his best friend's son…
…well, was there really a better way to go?
Help me find him, God…
Please, help me find Tony's boy…
….
2:20 am
A flaming beacon flies upward towards the highest part of the wreckage as Titanic takes her final plunge. The unidentified light burns bright with a contrail in its wake…shooting like a flair, in hot pursuit of something it treasures more than life itself.
But it's missing.
He's missing.
"Peter!" calls the flame.
But the treasure cannot reply.
…..
A/N: Please don't kill me.