A/N: Remember when I said a new chapter was coming soon… Sorry. ;D

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! I make no profit off of this. This is solely for my enjoyment and hopefully for the enjoyment of others! ;)

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Peter breathed in through his nose to the count of four and blew out to the count of four. He kept his eyes open, nervously eyeing the figure waiting in the theater seating in front of him.

"Think he saw the broadcast?" Greenie's southern accent twanged. Peter squinted against the bright light to see the figure better. "Or maybe," Magnus continued, "he saw it and just didn't feel like coming."

Magnus laughed at himself as the familiar fluttery feeling in Peter's stomach surfaced. He knew Mr. Stark wouldn't do that to him. He wouldn't knowingly leave Peter in the hands of this lunatic.

Peter's ears twitched at the sudden sound of slurping and lip-smacking. He couldn't quite tell with the bright lights working against him, but he was pretty sure Greenie was eating an apple. Apples had a very unique sound.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Greenie said, one hand tenting over his chest as he noticed Peter looking in his general direction. "Did- did you want some?" He said, proffering the fruit even though the teen was over ten feet away and chained to a chair.

Peter dropped his gaze, choosing instead to stare a ring-shaped stain the desk in front of him. He tried to focus his attention on anything but his two time around captor. The cheap finish on the wood had begun to wear away in the spot that the newscasters consistently leaned their elbows during the daily broadcast.

There were indentations all along the span of the desk where objects were dropped onto or jabbed into the wood. Peter concentrated on the feeling of the vinyl armrests beneath his fingers. He counted the stitches that rimmed the front, unable to bend his wrists very far.

He focused on the pain that radiated from his left ankle after having been forced to walk/hobble on it by the green-haired man. He thought about the way the chains were cutting into his injured ribs and vaguely remembered Dr. Ghazali saying something about avoiding putting pressure on them.

What Peter failed to notice was the voice that was asking questions, making demands. He failed to notice that Greenie was talking to him until the man was suddenly behind Peter, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking his head back.

Peter yelped at the harsh treatment to his scalp.

"Are you ignoring me, kid?" Greenie leered, traces of apple skin wedged between his crooked teeth.

Peter shook his head rapidly, or rather tried to shake his head. It was a rather difficult feat to pull off with Greenie's hand still gripping fiercely at his head.

"N-no," Peter gasped, hating that this voice stuttered, betraying his fear.

Greenie started into the teen's face for another moment before releasing his hair and stepping away. He hopped onto the desk backwards so he was facing Peter while sitting directly beside him.

The man curled his hands over the lip of the desk and leaned forwards slightly, legs swinging gently. As he leaned forward, Peter caught a glimpse of gun holstered at the back of the man's belt.

Peter's fear-meter kicked up a notch. In all the time Peter had been with Greenie, the man had never used a gun.

'This is a trap,' Peter thoughts raced. The moment Magnus had made Peter do the broadcast, Peter had known it was a trap, but he didn't know what Greenie was going to do. But now everything was beginning to add up.

But whether Greenie was going to shoot Peter or Tony, the teen didn't know.

'Scenario #1: I'm just bait to get Mr. Stark here so Magnus can shoot him.' There was no stopping his mind now. 'Scenario #2: He brought Mr. Stark here so that when he shoots me, Mr. Stark has to watch me die. Oh god… I don't want to die. But I also really don't want Mr. Stark to die eith–'

A sharp smack across his cheek brought Peter out of nightmare that was his thoughts.

"You're ignoring me again," Greenie pouted, arms pretzeled across his chest.

Peter blinked rapidly against the surprise of the blow.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Greenie asked, leaning towards Peter. Peter meekly shook his head but didn't say anything, not wanting to make things worse. Greenie sighed and reached out a hand, fingers brushing Peter's cheek.

Peter hated the way he flinched at the man's touch, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up rigidly.

"Pay attention this time or there will be consequences," Greenie said softly, extricating his hands from Peter's face. The teen release a nearly imperceptible breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Here's the short and sweet version," Greenie said, placing his hands behind him and leaning back as he continued to swing his legs. "Your friend Stark is going to waltz through the doors looking to save you. You're going to sit here and play the damsel in distress, all puppy eyed and rosy cheeked. He'll run to untie you, like a good hero should. And I–" Magnus paused, a disturbing smirk spreading over his face. "Am going to kill him like any good villain would."

Scenario #1 it was then.

"You see," Magnus continued, "I wasn't done with you yet. Stark's little escapade interrupted the semi-finals of Mattermind. The council's been meeting and they've graciously elected to allow a rematch of the final smackdown. Granted, I have a contest to compete with." The grin on Magnus's face grew.

Peter wanted to scream. This was bad. This was so much worse than he thought.

"Now I know what you're thinkin'," Magnus said as he hopped off the desk and disappeared behind the bound teen. Peter didn't like when he couldn't see him. It made his Spidey-Sense go nuts, sending chills up and down his body making him slightly nauseous. "You're probably thinkin' that you'll just scream at Stark that it's a trap as soon as he walks in the door."

The Spidey-Sense shrieked the moment before a thick rope of wound cloth was stretched across Peter's mouth, not unlike a horse bridle. His head was yanked back sharply as Greenie pulled the cloth tight and knotted it behind Peter's head.

Tears sprung to Peter's eyes involuntarily.

He felt utterly helpless. He was going to have to sit there and watch Tony die, and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't talk, couldn't move, he could barely breathe with the way panic was currently crushing his lungs.

The tears spilled down his cheeks as he head a door open somewhere past the chairs. A maniacal grin lit up Greenie's face. "Showtime," he whispered, dashing off into the risers, out of Peter's line of vision.

Peter choked down his sobs as he heard familiar footsteps approaching cautiously. Before Mr. Stark was even visible, Peter's head was shaking back and forth uncontrollably.

This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening.

Peter heard him before he saw him.

"Peter!" Tony's voice called softly, figure just visible beyond the glaring stage lights. Peter began to pull at the chains criss-crossing his chest, ignoring the blazing pain from his ribs. In the corner of his vision, he could see a figure rising in the stands, arms raised as they took aim.

Peter couldn't help the scream that tore from his throat, the words muffled by the gag in his mouth. Tony was almost to him when it happened.

The harsh crack of the gun being fired followed by the thud of Tony's body hitting the ground.

Peter's eyes widened as his breath caught; he felt as though his heart had stuttered to a stop. A hysterical scream wrenched from Peter's throat.

Nonononononono

The misplaced sound of cackling echoed around the room as Peter's scream died out. Hot tears blurred Peter's vision as the green-haired man swaggered back down to the broadcasting stage. Magnus stopped in front of the desk, gazing down gleefully at the still form of Tony Stark. He toed at the lifeless figure, ensuring his success.

Magnus clapped his hands together and grinned at the distraught teen across the desk.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the man suddenly dropped from view, shock painting his face as he fell.

Peter's breath caught as he heard signs of a scuffle, but couldn't see what was going on. His heart leaped into his throat as a figure suddenly popped up, aiming a gun at the other man on the floor. Peter felt his heart stutter for the second time in two minutes, but this time was different. This was a happy stutter.

"You alright, kid?" Tony Stark asked, eyes flicking over briefly to assess Peter.

Silent tears continued to roll down his cheeks as his brain tried to work out what he had just seen.

There was a sudden flurry of movement in the room as door were thrown open on both sides of the room beyond the chairs. Several pairs of booted feet pounded the ground as police officers piled in, all of them pointing their gun at the figure on the ground that had to be Magnus.

Tony disappeared from view a second time as he ducked down to the level of the forcibly prostrated man. He reappeared with something gripped in his hand, Magnus's gun still aimed at its owner.

The billionaire backed off as two policemen took over the situation, cuffing the man and rattling off his Miranda Rights.

Tony swiftly skirted around the desk and pulled Peter's chair away from the desk. He gently pulled the gag from between Peter's teeth, lifting it up and off the teen's head. "Are you okay?" He asked, taking the time to fully assess Peter now.

Peter couldn't find the strength to say words. He couldn't even manage to nod his head in answer to Mr. Stark's question. Peter didn't actually know if he was okay. He didn't know if Tony was okay. He didn't fully understand what had just happened.

Shellshocked was a good way to describe how he was feeling.

Not liking the distant look on Peter's face, Tony quickly ducked behind the teen and slid the key, that he'd swiped off of Magnus, into the lock. He made quick work of the bindings, tossing them to the side once they were all unwound.

Tony hurried back around to Peter's front, crouching down and gently placing his hands on top of Peter's, which had yet to move. Something broke inside Tony as he felt the flinch at his touch.

Peter's eyes slowly found his, tears still streaming without an evident end in sight.

"Oh, Pete…" Tony sighed. He wanted nothing more than to scoop the kid into a hug, but he didn't want to hurt or startle Peter.

The teen extricated his left hand from beneath Tony's and gently placed it on the man's cheek. Tony reached his own hand up and curled his fingers around the shaking one's on his cheek. "I'm right here, kiddo. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you…" Peter croaked. "How?"

Tony released Peter's hands and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and pulled the material aside revealing a bulletproof vest. He offered the awed teen a smile. "See? I sometimes know what I'm doing."

A breathy incredulous chuckle broke from Peter's lips. Before Tony could prepare for it, he had his arms full of laugh-crying superpowered teenager.

He embraced Peter tightly, careful of his injuries. Tony watched over Peter's shoulder as the policemen were escorting a handcuffed Magnus out of the building.

'Enjoy prison, monster,' he thought with vitriol. Part of him wished that he had actually shot Magnus in the few moments before the police had joined them in the room. Another part of him was reassured by the fact that that man was probably never going to see daylight again.

Any way you sliced it, he was out of Peter's life for good.

And that was more than enough.

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Thanks for sticking with me through the whole journey! I appreciate all your feedback!