Prompt: They can't hurt you anymore
The rescue took longer than expected.
So, so much longer.
That was partly because Tony hadn't even known that Peter was missing. Sure, the kid had started coming over for lab time fairly regularly. But that was every other Friday, and according to the timeline that the police had laid out, Peter had gone to school the following Monday. He'd been marked as present in class, and Ned had told them that he'd been in all of his usual classes. Then he'd left school and…it was like he'd disappeared. There was surveillance footage of him ducking into an alley, and then nothing.
There had been theories. The most popular had been that Spiderman, who had been spotted only a block away, had something to do with the boy's disappearance. But he masked vigilante hadn't been seen since Peter had disappeared and so couldn't be questioned.
May had been working an overnight shift, so it hadn't been until the next morning when she'd gotten home that she'd realized he was gone. That he'd been gone since the previous day. And, understandably, she'd freaked out. But she'd called Tony before calling the police, his phone going off at 6 in the morning. Groaning and rolling over so he wouldn't wake Pepper, he'd taken the call into the bathroom. "Hello?"
"Tony? I'm sorry to bother you so early." She'd been breathing heavily…the way he breathed when he was struggling through a panic attack, and immediately he'd been on guard.
"Don't worry about it. What can I help you with?" He'd asked, suddenly wide awake despite the fact that he'd only gone to bed an hour and a half ago.
"I…I was working a double last night so I just got home…um…" Her voice had cracked a little, but she'd soldiered on. "Peter…he patrolled last night…I think…but…but I just got home….I just…his bed doesn't even look slept in and usually, he…he's still home. He doesn't leave for school until 6:30…it's only 5:54…he wouldn't have gone yet…he would have left me a note."
"Okay." He'd cut in, voice gentle, but his heart had already been racing. "Okay. He's not here, but let me check the suit footage." And he had…the kid had changed into the suit at 3:29. He'd patrolled for a few hours, and then at 6:52, he'd stepped into an alley, taken off the suit, and that was all Tony could see. He'd sent a suit to that alley, and there he'd found no trace of the backpack…but there had been blood spatter on the wall.
The surveillance footage he'd managed to look up showed an unmarked van parked by the mouth of that alley, but the license plate had been covered. So May had called the police, Tony had locked up those files while sending in an anonymous tip about the footage, and then he'd made a phone call to Steve Rogers.
"Tony? Is everything…"
"Have you seen Spiderman?" He'd interrupted, leaning against the table in his lab, Friday's alerts that his heart was beating too fast going unheeded.
"No…" He'd hesitated. "Does this have to do with your intern…"
"My intern is Spiderman, and he's missing." Tony had snapped. He couldn't keep the kid's identity a secret and hope for Steve's help, so he'd gone ahead and bit the bullet, promising the kid that he'd make it up to him.
"Wait, Spiderman is…"
"For the love of all that is holy, Cap, do not ask me any fucking questions right now." He'd snapped, closer to losing it than he wanted to admit. "Just…please…please, keep an eye out for Spiderman. And Peter Parker. "Please."
"Okay. We'll help you find him."
It had taken them a week…a full seven days, but Tony, in the midst of his own search, had received a call from Tony the following Monday. "Tony? We got him."
Which was how Tony found himself entering an abandoned building by the docks in Maine of all places, racing forward in the armor that he opened and jumped out of as soon as he caught sight of Wanda. The woman was standing outside the door, pale and frightened-looking, hands shrouded in red mist. "Natasha has two of the men…the rest we killed." She informed him. Nothing about the way they'd parted, or the fight they'd had.
Tony hadn't asked about Peter's condition. Hadn't dared. But now, seeing the way the young woman stared at the ground, eyes bright and pained, he felt his stomach drop. No…Peter was fine. The kid had to be fine.
The building itself was dark, with the only light coming from windows set at the very top of the walls. It was only one floor, with a cage in the far corner. A cage that Steve Rogers was kneeling beside. In the middle of the room was a bed that looked like it belonged in a horror movie with straps and more bloodstains than Tony could count. The room smelled like blood and vomit…like death. In one corner, a man wearing a surgical mask lay in a puddle of his own blood. He could see other bodies. But he didn't care. All he cared about was the cage where Steve Rogers knelt and the body inside.
"Son? Can you hear me? Peter?" The body didn't move.
Sam Wilson was beside Steve, partially hidden from view, and when he reached a hand into the cage, the person inside screamed.
The noise went right through Tony. Peter. It was Peter. Peter was screaming, head thrown back, body curled up in an impossibly small ball in the very back of the cage, as far away as he could get. The sound was wordless and agonizing and Tony needed it to stop. He raced to the cage, shouldering the two men aside without hesitation then, barely hesitating, he climbed inside the cage on his hands and knees. It was designed for a dog, maybe. A big dog, but still, a dog. So there wasn't enough room to stretch out, but he curled up on his side beside Peter who had stopped screaming and was staring straight ahead, eyes dazed but so afraid.
"Hey. Hey, buddy. It's me. It's Tony…Mr. Stark." The boy looked even worse up close. It looked like he hadn't been fed the entire time he'd been missing, which couldn't be true because he'd be dead, but still. Painfully thin with cheekbones jutting out of his face. Blood on his lips and dripping from a cut on his temple. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and he was rocking just a little, shaking as he moved back and forth. But as soon as Tony spoke, his eyes focused just a little, meeting Tony's. "Hey. Hi. Can you hear me, Pete?"
"M…Mr…"
"Yeah. Mr. Stark. I'm here. I'm right here, buddy." Sam stood, moving around to the back of the cage, and Peter gasped, curling up even smaller and whimpering. "Hey, hey, calm down. They can't hurt you anymore. Okay, buddy?"
"They…the bad men they…"
"They're gone, Pete. I promise. Natasha took care of them. We're the only ones here. Just you and me, Captain America and Falcon. Natasha and Wanda are outside. Do you want to get out of here?"
"I…Mr. Stark…I feel like I can't breathe." The boy whimpered, closing his eyes and choking on a sob, a hand pressed to his chest. Above his head and through the bars, Sam gave him a sharp look.
"Yeah? That's no good. Let's get you out of here and we'll find out why, okay? Did you know that Sam was an army medic? I'll bet he'd tell you all about it if you asked." Tony slipped his arms under the boy, kneeling as best he could. Steve opened the cage door a little wider and Tony lifted the boy, flinching at his cry of pain. "I know, buddy. I know it hurts. Let me get you out of here and then you can lie still, I promise. Just a second." He edged himself out of the cage, cradling the boy as close as he could so that he didn't bump his head on the cage bars. "You're doing great, Pete. Let's lay you down now. There we go." Steve ripped his jacket off, folding it up so that they could pillow it under Peter's head. "Perfect. Great job, Pete."
Sam jumped in, pressing gentle fingers against his neck, and Steve pressed an ear to his chest, making do without a stethoscope. "I have the jet waiting outside. Can we move him?" He asked the more experienced medics.
"He has decreased breath sounds on his left side…it seems like his rib nicked a lung, but it's healing. But they've drugged him…that might be why he's having trouble breathing." Steve spoke so quickly that Tony almost couldn't catch it all. "You still have medical supplies on the jet?" Tony nodded. He knew, in some part of his mind, that he was still pissed at Steve, but for the moment, if he could save the kid, he didn't care. "Okay, let's get him to the jet."
"Alright, Petey. I'm gonna pick you up again. I know I promised you could rest, but we need to get out of this place and onto the jet. I've got some good medicine for you. Okay?"
"Mr. Stark?" The boy asked, pupils blown wide as his head lolled to the side.
"That's right, buddy. Mr. Stark has you." He put his arms under the boy again, ignoring the pain in his back. "We're going to get you fixed up. I promise, kiddo, we'll have you back to normal in no time." The boy groaned, but nodded just a little, resting his head on Tony's shoulder. "That's right, buddy. Just rest."
