The Avengers Whump and Bromance Anthology

Blackmail, Bullets, Blood

Whumptober 2020

PenPatronus

Steve was so concerned about Tony that he followed him one night. Tony walked to a small Stark Industries warehouse eight blocks from the Tower at two in the morning. Peeking through a dusty window, Steve watched as Tony loaded wooden crate after wooden crate into a white Stark Industries van. When Tony went to leave, when the garage door opened, there was Cap standing there illuminated by the headlights with his hands at his hips, looking like a mother who just caught her son's hand in the cookie jar.

Tony stuck his head out of the driver's side window and shouted, "Out of my way, Rogers!"

"I can't do that, Stark," Steve called back. "Not until you tell me why you're sneaking out missiles in the middle of the night."

"It's none of your damn business where I'm going with my own inventory, Rogers," Tony spat back. Tony jumped out of the van and pushed Steve in the chest. "Now get out of here!"

Steve caught Tony's wrists when Stark went in to push him again. "Where are you taking those missiles? I thought Stark Industries was done with arms dealing. Who are you selling these to?"

"Selling them?" Tony laughed. He put his hands on his knees and laughed harder. "Selling them…"

In the bright light, Cap noticed that Tony's skin was white and shiny with sweat. He appeared to have lost a few pounds and the crescents beneath his eyes were darker than usual. "Tony, what's wrong with you?"

Tony wiped his eyes with his flannel shirt sleeve. "Nothing."

"You're upset and you're hiding something from me."

"I'm hiding a lot of things from you. You'll have to be more specific."

"Tony…"

"Cap, I really need to get going." Stark checked his watch. "I can't be late."

"Fine. I'll go with you. I'm driving." Steve went to pass Tony, but Stark grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Listen to me. Just… Just listen, Steve. I can't get you involved in this. Nobody can get involved in this. It's just between me and…" Tony sighed.

"Tony, I'm your friend." Steve put his hands on Tony's shoulders. "I just want to help."

"You can't help me," Tony whispered. "This is the only way. This… This…" Tony's face crumpled. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "He took the kid."

"Parker? Who?"

"Klaue. Ulysses Klaue, the arms dealer. He has Peter. And if I don't keep giving him missiles, he'll kill him." Arms fell away, and Stark took his phone out of his pocket. He opened an app Cap didn't recognize, and showed a live feed of a prison cell. In it, a very skinny, very disheveled, very dirty Peter Parker sat in the corner with his arms around his legs, staring at the wall. "Klaue gives him one bite of bread and one sip of water for every missile I give him. And if I don't get there soon, Peter won't have anything to eat in the morning."

"He's practically starving him," Cap said. His face turned red. "Tony, we're getting him out of there. Right now."

Stark shook his head. "Klaue said that if he sniffs even the slightest bit of trouble, he'll kill the kid without a second thought. If one security guard sees us, if one alarm goes off – Pete's dead."

Steve nodded. He gave it some thought – eyebrows frowning. "We're going to need some help, then, aren't we?"

"Steve, no, I…" Tony put his face in his hands, then suddenly whirled around and punched the truck with his bare fist. "I can't risk the kid! This is the only way to keep him alive."

"Tony, Klaue will eventually kill him, no matter what. We gotta get him out now."

Tony took three deep, settling breaths. "You're right," he decided. "You're always right, Cap. So… What do we do?"

"What we're gonna do," said Steve, "is rescue Parker and take down Klaue at the same time. And, fortunately, we have some very Ninja-like assassins who can get the kid out before Klaue even knows we're there."

Tony stood on the dock outside Klaue's seaside warehouse and watched the arms dealer's men unload the missiles from the van. The only light was the moon over the water and one flickering snot-colored lightbulb above the entrance. Tony pulled his baseball cap down and folded his arms against his chest. Autumn was just about to exit the stage, and the East Coast had been promised an extra cold winter.

Klaue emerged from his office wearing a pit-stained white button down shirt over dirty jeans. He had a toothpick in his mouth and an assault rifle over his shoulder. "Mr. Stark," he greeted, "my most loyal supplier. I'm told you're five missiles short today."

Tony held up his palms. "My own supplier let me down, Klaue. But I brought you something to make up for it. Look in the back seat." Klaue nodded at his henchmen. One opened the van and an unconscious, tied-up, beat-up Steve Rogers came tumbling out, rolling across the wooden dock.

Klaue clapped his hands together. "Quite a gift!" he exclaimed. "I know some underground scientists who will pay quite a lot for a specimen like this." He motioned for his henchmen. Tony expected Klaue to order them to take Steve inside but, instead, they lifted him to his feet. Klaue approached Steve, said, "I know you're awake, Captain," and smacked Steve across the face. Cap coughed and spit out a tooth.

"Let me guess what your plan was," Klaue said, attention back on Tony. "I put Rogers in the same cell with Parker, together with their combined strength they break through the bars, and then they sneak out – escaping from under my nose, yes?"

Tony pursed his lips together so hard that they turned white. "Listen, Klaue, I just want the kid. I'll give you whatever you ask, just give me the kid back."

"We all want things, Stark. I want to own a Caribbean island. And, I'm only five mil short of it. And now, here you are, interfering with my dream, trying to take it away." Klaue shook his head. "Tisk, tisk," he said, waggling his forefinger. "I told you I'd kill the kid if you interfered. But, I think I'll do you one better. I think, right in front of your eyes, I'll kill all four of them."

"Four?"

A garage door opened and a half dozen henchmen wearing thick jackets and caps over their faces exited with a very bloodied, very beat up Peter, Clint, and Natasha. Klaue gave the order to stand them next to Cap, then he ordered all four of them to their knees. His goons pushed them down and aimed guns at their backs.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter whimpered.

Tony shook his head. "I let you down, kid. I'm so, so sorry."

Klaue was soaking up the moment like sunshine. "This is lovely. Half the world wants you all dead and here I am, little old me, holding each of your lives in my hands. I really should sell tickets to this."

"Enough, Klaue," Tony barked. "I want my team free. I'll give you anything, anything you want."

"Anything, huh?" Klaue tapped his chin. "What if what I want is for you to see your friends die?" He nodded at his henchman. "Kill Barton."

"NO!" Tony screamed. He was too late. The henchman shot Clint in the back. Barton collapsed forward onto the dock. He didn't move.

"Clint!" Nat sobbed.

Klaue suddenly cocked and aimed his weapon. "Who's next?" he asked, aiming the gun first at Peter, and then at Natasha, and then at Steve. "Which one of your friends is next?"

Tony saw movement in his peripheral vision, and it took all his concentration not to look at the roof of the warehouse. "Klaue?" Tony said, his posture straight now, his classic smirk back on his face, "would you like to guess what happens when a warehouse full of volatile weapons gets hit by a bolt of lightning?" Tony looked up at the roof.

Klaue followed his gaze. Thor waved down at the crowd, then raised his hammer.

"Get him!" Klaus screamed, and he and all his henchmen turned to fire. At that precise moment Bruce Banner, who'd disguised himself as the very goon who shot Barton in his bulletproof vest, pivoted and hit Klaue in the shoulder with a bullet. Klaue tumbled backwards off the dock and into the water. His rifle spat a half-dozen times as he fell.

Natasha flipped to her feet. Barton rolled over and somersaulted backwards. Steve broke out of his bonds instantly. While those three kept the henchmen from shooting Thor, Peter sprinted into Tony's arms. Stark caught him and lifted him off his feet, so happy was he. "Into the van, kid," Tony ordered. "Everyone in the van, now!" he shouted. He could feel the dock rumbling as more of Klaue's goons were heading their way. Barton, Banner, and Rogers dove into the back of the white van. Natasha got in the driver's seat while Tony pushed Peter into the back seat. Tony yanked the door shut and shouted, "Heads down!"

Outside, Thor rose into the air, summoned lightning, and slammed it down into the weapons compound. The place exploded in a massive mushroom cloud. But seconds before it did, Thor picked up the van and flew it out of danger. He set it on the street six blocks away and opened the door, revealing his disheveled but whole friends. "Sorry I was late," the god said. "I was with Jane and I didn't get your message and... Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Because we had to get there by a deadline!" Tony shouted at him. He sat against the far door with his arms around Peter, who was leaning back against him. "You cut it pretty damn close you big Norse piece of—" Tony felt something warm on his shirt. He looked down and saw dark liquid against his shoulder. It was blood, blood that wasn't his. One of Klaue's shots had hit a target.

"PETE!"

Peter had gone limp. He fell back into Tony's arms, smearing blood from his shot up shoulder down the rest of Tony's shirt. Stark tossed his hat away and adjusted Peter's body so that the kid was cradled in his lap. "Nat! Hospital! Now!" Tony shouted.

A tear slid down Peter's cheek. "Thanks for coming for me," he said between hitched breaths. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Kid, hang on, we'll get you some help in a second, in just a second, all right?"

Peter licked his white lips. "It hurts," he whispered.

Tony's heart clenched like a fist. He looked at his wide-eyed friends who were just as helpless as he was. "Hang on, kid," was all he could think to say. Adrenaline burned through him and his face flushed. "Just hang on, Pete."


May exited Peter's hospital room with a fake smile that instantly disintegrated once she was sure she was out of her nephew's eyeline. Tony stood up from a hallway bench and she hugged him. "He's so brave," she sobbed in his ear. "He's incredible."

Tony nodded. He sniffed, and then held May at arm's length. "He is. He's an incredible kid."

"He wants to talk to you."

"Ok." Tony took a deep breath. "Ok."

The kid was asleep when he walked in, so Tony had time to sit in a chair beside the bed and relive every moment of the "rescue." He should've done better. He should've acted faster. He should've this, he should've that…

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony shot to his feet. He leaned over the hospital bed and smiled at Peter without showing his teeth. "Hey, kid. How ya feeling?"

Tears sprung to Peter's eyes. "I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm so sorry. None of this would've happened if it weren't for me. The others – are they all right? God, Mr. Stark, I'm so sorry. I deserve to be—"

Tony held up his finger and made a sound that resembled a game show buzzer. "Don't," he ordered softly. "Don't do that, kid. That's a dark road I've traveled, and I won't let you go down it. None of this was your fault, you understand? None of it. And the others are fine. You're fine. Everything's fine."

Peter frowned at him. "Mr. Stark? Are you fine? You're—you're crying."

Tony didn't even realize it. He wiped his eyes dry. "Joyful tears, kid." Then, without thinking about it, he leaned in and kissed the kid on the forehead. "Glad you're ok," he whispered, "so glad, Pete."

The End