Prompt: "You have to leave right now." and "I thought you were dead."
Tony had all but given up. And he was ashamed of it. Ashamed that he'd stopped waiting for the alerts that he had ordered Friday to send him. That he'd stopped going into the room that he'd set up in the tower for Peter...that he'd stopped calling Peter's aunt to give updates. Because there were no updates. There was nothing to say. Not to her. Not to the Avengers who halfheartedly kept up the search. They had worked so hard at the beginning, four months ago. Now...now they were giving up. And Tony didn't blame them. Not even Steve who he sometimes hated and sometimes appreciated so much.
The boy had vanished. One minute, he'd been walking home from school, the next, he'd been gone. Just...gone. Tony insisted that the CCTV had to be wrong. Had to have been tampered with. Because people didn't just blink out of existence. But there'd been no evidence of tampering. No way to find the original. Because there had to be an original. He hadn't been wearing his suit. And Tony had found his backpack in the alley nearby, complete with his suit and school books.
He was walking past the training room when he heard Nat and Sam murmuring inside. And he knew that eavesdropping was rude and all that, but it was his tower...and he needed a distraction. Needed to somehow stop thinking of the boy who had worked with him in the lab and who had been like his son and who he had loved so much...but who he'd never told. Why hadn't he told him? Why hadn't he told the boy how much he meant to him?
"I just don't think we should get his hopes up," Nat was saying, voice pitched low.
"We can't not tell him," Sam hissed.
"We need to be sure first."
"But if it's the kid…"
That was as long as Tony had been able to wait, stepping inside and feeling as thought he had heard wrong. Understood wrong. Because they couldn't be talking about his kid. Nat saw him first, pressing her lips together, and Sam turned after, arms crossed, eyes full of something like pity. Before he could even ask, Natasha started speaking. "Doctor Stephen Strange has been in contact. There is a…" she trailed off, then sighed. "A wizard."
"A wizard," Tony repeated, shaking his head, and she nodded.
"Strange wants us to collaborate. I didn't follow completely but...something to do with a wizard capturing mutants and enhanced people, especially children."
"Why?" Tony's voice was shaky...he couldn't let himself hope. Not now. Not yet. Sam swallowed hard.
"Something about experiments."
From that moment, all Tony could think was 'Peter, Peter, Peter.' All he could see when he closed his eyes was Peter...Peter with his head shoved under the water just like his had been. He knew that wasn't right. They'd said experiments, not torture. But didn't those words meant he same thing? Had Peter been tortured? For months? While Tony had failed to find him?
It was all he could think as his suit formed around him. As he climbed into the jet. As Steve piloted the ship and as, all around him, the Avengers and Stephen Strange, who had briefly introduced himself, all he could think about was Peter. He'd let him down. He'd failed him. But he would find him now. He had to. Hope had started to kindle in his chest and now he couldn't let it die. He couldn't lose Peter again. Couldn't let himself lose hope. Peter had to be there. He had to bring him home. There was no other way this could go. No other outcome Tony would be able to live with.
The fighting went on and Tony didn't care. He didn't stop to help the others. Didn't watch as Dr. Strange made light appear with his shaking hands, or watch the other man do the same. Didn't watch their epic battle. Instead, he followed the little dot that Friday had brought up in his display. There were several, all body heat signatures. All prisoners, he assumed. He blasted open door after door, passing child after child that he would get help for, he swore, he would make sure these children made it out of here alive. But he had to find Peter.
It was the only thing that mattered.
Peter was the fifteenth child he saw. At first, he wasn't even sure it was him. The boy in the bed was emaciated, with his head nearly shaved, wrists so thin he could see his bones. The boy didn't move when Tony blasted his door open, just lay still, mouth partially open as he wheezed for breath in his sleep.
"Peter." The word tumbled out of Tony's mouth as he left his suit standing guard, stumbling into the cell and dropping to his knees at Peter's side. A shaking hand lifted, then rested on Peter's chest, feeling the boy breathe. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head onto Peter's shoulder, choking on the sob that burst out of him. "Peter...Peter, Peter…" He was alive. Peter was alive.
After a moment, he moved his hand to the boy's cheek, pressing gently. "Peter...buddy...hey, wake up. Can you wake up?" he pleaded, ignoring the tears running down his face. "Please? Please, buddy. Please wake up."
And slowly, painfully slowly, Peter's eyes fluttered. The boy's gazed was dull and unfocused, but when it finally turned to Tony, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Mr...Mr. Stark?" he rasped, and just those words seemed to take up almost all the energy he had.
"Peter...oh god, Peter...I thought you were dead!"
"You have to get out...Mr. Stark...you have to leave...right now…" Peter gasped, trying and failing to sit up before dropping back onto the cot. "You...you have to...he's...he's a wizard and…"
"I know," Tony assured him, cupping the side of his face, fingers brushing against too-short hair. "The Avengers are all here. And we've got a wizard too. It's okay. I'm here to get you out. We're going to get you out of here."
"I..I can't get up," Peter slurred, eyes drooping, and Tony shook his head, dropping it and resting his forehead against Peter's.
"That's okay...it's okay, buddy. I can carry you."
"He...he wanted...to figure out how...how I got powers and…" Peter blinked, struggling to stay awake. "Hurt...it hurts…"
"I know," Tony whispered, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto Peter's. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete. We're going to get you to the medbay. I'll get a doctor to help you. We have that pain medicine, remember? The kind that works on you. That's going to make it better." He sniffed, slipping a hand under Peter's back to pull him up. The boy grimaced, going stiff, and Tony moved carefully, pulling Peter upright to wrap his arms around him. "I love you. I love you so much, Pete. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Peter brought up a shaking arm to wrap around Tony, gripping his shirt so the arm didn't fall. "Love you too...it's okay."
By the time the other Avengers reached them, Tony was sitting on the little bed, back against the wall, Peter cradled in his arms. The boy had lost the battle with unconsciousness, but all Tony could do was listen to him breathe...watch his chest rise and fall.
Revel in the fact that the boy was alive.
The rest...the experiments and the damage done, the fear and the trauma...all of that would have to be dealt with later. For now, he just wanted to hold his son.
