Wow, this story also got popular quick. Thank you to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, favoriting/following, etc. You're the best!

Just a small warning for the chapter - it does contain some mild torture. Nothing graphic as far as blood/gore goes, though.

The next half hour or so was a blur for Tony.

At some point, he found his suit, and suddenly it was just on, and he didn't even remember doing it. Then he spent the next 15 minutes or so pacing while he waited for Pepper and Hogan to retrieve what he'd sent them to.

He couldn't sit still. His mind was racing. He'd never had to deal with a ransom demand before, exactly, but he'd had Pepper abducted once. He'd been forced to make decisions for the good of the many over what was best for her, and he'd nearly lost her for it. He didn't intend to come close to that again. This time it was just Peter on the line, and nothing was going to stop him from getting him back, even if it meant he had to tear this guy from limb to limb, with or without his suit.

What was worse was that he'd tried to warn him about this. And Tony hadn't even deemed him enough of a threat to go after him himself; he'd sent the FBI to do it, knowing full well their history of incompetence. He'd scolded Peter for trying to stop him. Because he was afraid of this, yes - but that didn't stop it from happening, and it certainly didn't stop this guy from going back after Peter as soon as he didn't have the means to protect himself. And that was most definitely his fault.

He couldn't shake the image of the kid's bloody face from his head. He just kept seeing it flash in front of him, seeing him slumped and unconscious, bleeding out, waiting-

"Tony!"

He whirled. Pepper and Happy were quickly approaching, lugging two bags - one large duffel, presumably with the money, and a smaller one over his shoulder, presumably with clothes for Peter. "This is it," Happy told him, handing him both bags. He took them both, pulling the duffel over his head, then the smaller backpack across his shoulders. "You're wired up?"

"Same as always." He retracted his mask as Pepper approached, letting his arms go around her instinctively as she hugged him. "Jarvis will signal you if I need back up." He kissed Pepper on the head, then pushed her off gently and stepped away, starting to lift off the ground.

"Should I call May?" Happy asked.

Tony shook his head. "No. Not yet. You'll just worry her when we don't have all the information. Once I get him back we'll decide how to handle it." He slid the mask back into place. "I'll see you soon." He boosted the throttle, flying towards the door.

"Keep in touch," Happy called after him. Tony spun in the air to face them long enough to throw a mock salute backwards before rocketing into the sky.

"Jarvis, you ready for this?" His eyes flicked through all the stats.

"As ever, sir. What can do I?"

"Pinpoint me Peter Parker's location and send me the quickest way there."

It was silent except for a dull hum for a moment as he worked, and then the flight plan popped onto the screen in front of his eyes. "The quickest way is to fly in a straight diagonal path southeast. You will have to veer a bit at the end to find the warehouse. At the recommended speed, arrival time is approximately 38 minutes."

"Top speed?" Recommended speed be damned right now. He'd flown at top speed many a time before against recommendation, and it hadn't killed him yet.

"Approximately 22 minutes. But sir, you know I have to advise against it."

"I don't really care what you're advising right now, Jarvis. A kid's life is on the line. Now kick it."

The throttle roared to full capacity, and he shot through the night like a speeding bullet. I'm coming for you, kid. Just hold on.

Approximately 20 agonizing minutes later, Tony was hovering a few hundred feet in the air, looking down at the warehouse.

This was it. He was here, and the best plan of action he had was to go in and try not to let himself go red with anger and kill this guy.

He had no qualms about giving him the money - regardless of if he got it back or not, he certainly wasn't lacking in it - but more so about the aftermath of that. He didn't really want to let the guy escape, but he didn't really have the time to fight him if it wasn't necessary. If he went in there and the guy genuinely would let him walk out of there with the kid, he'd have to hand over the money and go. He couldn't in good conscience stay long enough to get his hands dirty, not with Peter bleeding out in a corner.

He'd just have to trust that the trackers he'd had added to the bag would be enough to lead the authorities to him, or for him to come back and finish the job later, if it came to that.

Tony touched down on the ground and closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself. "Jarvis, retract the suit into the gauntlet, but be ready to deploy on a second's notice."

"You got it, boss." The suit began to fold in on itself, the different bits of nanotech rolling across his body and disappearing into the gauntlet. He adjusted his sleeve to hide most of it and trusted the darkness to do the rest, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking inside slowly.

It was indeed incredibly dark inside the warehouse. The only light sources really appeared to be a few dimly lit bulbs scattered throughout the building, and a few windows that let in the moonlight.

It was enough for Tony to see exactly what he needed to. It didn't take long to locate Peter, tied to one of the support beams across the warehouse. The boy appeared to be still unconscious, which wasn't surprising considering his head was still trickling blood, and on closer inspection he could see more on the side of his shirt, and the awkward angle his leg appeared to be twisted in. Great. His injuries were extensive, then, just as Tony had suspected. That suggested some sort of fight, at least. On one hand, he was proud the kid had lasted long enough in a fight to sustain those injuries, but on the other, he wished he didn't have to be in that scenario at all. Maybe when this was over, he'd try to rectify that.

He hadn't realized he'd started moving toward the kid until a voice said, "Ah ah ah. Not another step, Stark, or we can add something to that list of injuries you already see."

Tony stopped in place. The voice was coming from above. He glanced up, trying to locate a source, but it was too dark to see very far. "Still hiding, are we? Too afraid to face me like a man?"

"Not hiding. Just waiting." The man who called himself Vulture dropped from the ceiling, landing between Tony and Peter. He was wearing a gauntlet similar to Tony's on his hand, but much bigger, and obviously made to hurt. He could see the electricity it commanded, flickering in wait. He could also see the glowing weapon that he was holding in his other hand, clearly one of the illegal ones made from alien tech that the kid had been talking about.

Tony's eyes lingered on the gauntlet for a moment, knowing instinctively that that was what he'd used to shock Peter. He'd have that thing destroyed, if he had any say in it. Then he forced his eyes away, back to the man in the dark leather suit. "Nice costume." He cocked his head, nodding to the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder. "I've got your money."

"Good. Take it off and send it over here. Nice and slow, or I'll fry the kid again right here." He held out the fist with the gauntlet on it in Peter's direction. Great. So the thing shot electricity too.

Tony's eyes flicked to him instinctively, and he pressed his lips together, knowing saying anything would just make this situation worse. He slowly pulled his hands from his pockets, grabbing the duffel with one hand and holding it out towards him. "How do you want me to do this?"

Vulture regarded him for a moment, one arm still held out towards Peter. Then he jerked his head to the side, indicating a table on the opposite wall to the one Peter was tied to. "Take it over there. And keep your hands where I can see them."

Tony looked at Peter again, then back to the villain before slowly starting that direction. He set the duffel on the table, conscious of being monitored at all times. Slowly, he raised his hands, showing him they were empty.

It was the wrong move, apparently. "Do you think I'm stupid, Stark?" His voice was dangerously low, and Tony knew immediately he'd made a mistake. This guy had something in those weird ass goggles of his that was helping him see - meaning he saw well enough to notice the gauntlet on Tony's right hand.

"N-"

He didn't even wait for Tony to finish the word. He fired a beam of electricity from the gauntlet, right at Peter.

The effect was instantaneous, and so was Peter's scream.

He was screaming almost before he was conscious.

He'd been drifting in and out since he'd first woken up, and by now he'd realized that something was seriously wrong with him. The fuzziness in his head had only worsened, and he was starting to suspect that the lack of feeling in his limbs was from more than just being tied up. The utter lack of any type of response or even sensation, coupled with the fact that he still couldn't see even though he was sure his eyes were open had his suspicions growing, only he was too fuzzy to actually figure out what it meant or what had happened. Getting to this point was a blur.

Being electrocuted was enough to refocus reality for sure. Physical sensation be damned, but there was no way for him not to feel this. It was a particular feeling, and it was inside his body as well as out, magnified a hundred times through every part of him. And he couldn't writhe, couldn't move even the slightest bit-

All he could do was lay there and take it.

Some small, still functional corner of his mind picked up on the fact that he wasn't the only one screaming. The voice was familiar, undeniably, but he couldn't focus enough through the pain to be certain of anything more than the fact that it was a male voice.

"Stop! Stop!" The tormented scream was almost loud enough to match his own.

And suddenly it was over. Peter's body melted instantly, unable to so much as form anything more than a soft moan. How was it he couldn't feel anything on the outside, but the pain was still just as bad?

"I gave you what you wanted, now leave him be."

Could it be? No. He was insane. It was the pain. There was no way…

"Oh, but I had to do something, Stark. I told you not to bring the suit, didn't I?"

Stark. Tony. Oh no. Tony had come for him? The small part of his brain that was still functioning was both relieved and terrified by this turn of events. Why did he come for him? How did he know he even needed to? What had he given Vulture? Why would he have come without his suit? Then the more panicked thoughts started to roll in. Oh, he was going to be in so much trouble. How did he find him? How much did he know about what had happened, and what would he say when he found out? They'd already been on rough terms after what happened with the ferry. The likelihood that Mr. Stark was going to let this go was not very good at all.

Even through his haze of pain, he was smart enough for that thought to scare him almost as bad as he was afraid of what was happening right now. He just had to survive what was happening right now long enough for it to make sense to be afraid.

The situation was out of his hands, and his injuries soon started to cloud his mind again as he lay there. All rational thought started to dissipate as he started to sink back into his mind and grew dangerously closer to succumbing to his injuries. It was all he could do to hold on to the edges of consciousness, knowing and holding on to the thought with his last ounce of power that if he passed out again right now, he might not wake up.

And so he laid there and waited.

No no no no no no no no.

Tony had seen a lot of things in his time, especially since becoming Iron Man, and he'd caused a lot of people a lot of pain, directly and inadvertently.

Nothing compared to this.

Watching the boy he'd so callously left to his own devices get tortured in front of him was the worst thing he'd ever had to endure. It was unbearable.

"No! No! Stop! Stop!" He hardly realized the words had torn from his own throat in that moment. All he knew was that it took every ounce of his self restraint not to throw himself between this monster and his kid, and the only thing holding him back was that he knew it would only turn into something worse if he did.

He nearly collapsed with relief when Vulture lowered the gauntlet, and he saw Peter just melt back into the pole behind him, breathing hard and letting out a low moan.

There was murder in his eyes when he refocused on Vulture. "I gave you what you wanted. Now leave him be."

Vulture simply cocked his head at him, lowering his arm slowly. "Oh, but I had to do something, Stark. I told you not to bring the suit, didn't I?"

"I didn't!" The gauntlet shot back up, and Tony threw his hands up quickly. "Wait! Don't do it. You're right, I did, but you didn't leave me any choice. You said alone and fast and a suit was the best solution. I took it off before coming in, didn't I?" This wasn't going at all how he wanted it to.

The other man just stared at him, his head still tilted as he studied him. "Take it off."

"It is off."

"Completely, Stark."

"I can't, I- No!" Vulture had raised the gauntlet again before he'd even finished, and Peter's screams filled the warehouse again. Tony took a shuddering breath and stumbled forward a bit, the panic in his system overriding his better judgement for a moment. "I can't, I can't, I have to get us out of here somehow!"

Vulture hadn't even broken eye contact with him, seemingly unbothered by the teen's anguish. "You can put it on again when I'm gone. Now take it off, or I'll double the power here."

Tony didn't hesitate. His hands were shaking with panic and adrenaline that he had no chance of hiding, but he ignored it the best he could as he worked it off and held the gauntlet up.

Vulture jerked his chin in the opposite direction. "Toss it away."

Tony threw it over his shoulder, holding both now bare hands up. "There! Now stop it!"

The electricity cut off, and Peter's screams died with it, his whole body going rigid and spasming for a moment before relaxing again. The boy couldn't even muster the energy to make a sound to whatever was happening, it seemed.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment. Medical science wasn't his area of expertise, but he knew a seizure when he saw one. They were running out of time. "You got what you wanted," he told Vulture, his voice unexpectedly hoarse when he spoke. He didn't bother trying to clear it. "Now go. Or at least let me take the boy and leave."

Vulture lowered the gauntlet, regarding Tony for another long moment before nodding once. "Don't move," he warned as he stepped away, his wings folding out from behind him and expanding as he moved across the warehouse, grabbing the duffel full of money. "I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark, but we both know that's not true. But here's to hoping we don't meet again." And then he jumped, his wings catching him in the air, and he swooped right out the entrance of the warehouse.

He'd barely cleared the doorway before Tony was moving, snatching up the gauntlet as quick as he could before dashing madly over to Peter. "Kid!" He slid up to him on his knees, looking around wildly for the bonds holding him in place. Thankfully it was a simple rope that secured his hands behind the pole - something Peter could have easily escaped from had he been conscious and at full strength - and Tony severed it easily with a mild shot from his hand. The suit was already reforming around him. Clearly Jarvis had been monitoring the conversation from inside and had taken the cue himself on return to contact with Tony's body. "Peter! Come on, kid, can you hear me?"

All he got in response was a tiny sound that he wasn't even sure if it was a groan or a whimper. It was enough for Tony to know he was still alive, and that was enough for him at the moment. He scooped him up, wincing as a hoarse scream tore from the kid's throat. Oh, he was hurt, and those shocks would be enough to leave anyone tender, but he didn't really have another choice. It would hurt no matter who moved him and leaving him there was not an option.

He cradled the kid to his chest and kicked up the throttle. "Hang on, kid. I got you. You're going to be okay." He had no idea if he could even hear him, let alone comprehend what he was saying through the pain, but saying so made him feel a little better at least.

Maybe if he said it enough times he could convince himself of it.

A low growl building in his throat, Tony shot into the air, heading for the nearest hospital.