Chapter 10: Rescue Me Please
Harley's POV:
"Harley, come on, man, please wake up," a far away voice spoke insistently. "Please, please wake up. Please wake up," the annoying voice continued, and I groaned, absentmindedly waving my hand towards the voice in hopes that they'd shut up.
I felt exhausted, more tired than I'd felt in a long time, and I just wanted to sleep. Sleep, however, quickly became unachievable as pain began to overwhelm my senses. I hurt. I hurt everywhere.
Opening my eyes, I took in the sight of two wide brown eyes attached to a pale, sweaty face topped with dirty curls.
"Pet'r," I slurred, making to sit up, but immediately falling back when I felt sharp pain in my ribs.
"Take it easy," Peter spoke softly. "Don't try and get up. You're pretty hurt, so just rest," he advised, and while I was silently agreeing with his assessment, my mind raced with trying to figure out how I came to be this way.
My mind felt so fuzzy, but it didn't take long for my memories to begin to surface.
"Oh god," I moaned, a stray tear trailing down my face as I remembered what was going on and how I ended up this way.
Obadiah Stane.
Revenge against Tony.
Torture.
Pain.
The pain was suddenly all I could focus on, and I looked to Peter, desperate for distraction.
"You alright?" I asked, and he gave me a nod and a reassuring grin.
"Yeah, they haven't really done much to me," he replied, and damn it all if he didn't sound guilty. I almost snorted, but that would've taken too much effort.
Forcing myself into a seating position, I looked more closely at the young hero, noting some cuts and bruises that he hadn't had before. I pointed at one of the nastier cuts with my hand, and he waved away my concern.
"They removed this stupid collar and forced me to fight with several of those fire dudes," he informed me, and again, I heard the guilt. "Honestly, I think they were just bored."
I made a noise of acknowledgment, glad that was the worst he'd suffered. At least one of us was uninjured, and he was the better choice. I was the one feeling guilty now as I knew I had officially become a burden. The damned do-gooder wouldn't dare to try and escape if he didn't think I'd make it out too. I'd have to convince him, somehow.
"I'm sure help will come soon," Peter stated vehemently, "so just hang on a little longer. Tony is no doubt already on his way."
Raising an eyebrow at the teen, I smiled a little as I grimly stated, "I must look like shit for you to be talking like that. Am I dying or something?"
Peter's eyes were sad as he stared at me, and I could tell he didn't want to answer me.
"You're not dying," he answered in a small voice, and I nodded my head once, having assumed that on my own.
I looked down at my body for the first time since I awoke and sucked in a startled breath at the amount of blood I saw. My shirt, which I was sure had been grey earlier was now a dark red color. I mean, the entire thing was soaked with blood, and when I saw my arms, I understood why. There were cut marks everywhere. Deep enough to hurt and bleed, but not deep enough to cause permanent damage. Looking further down, I realized my jeans had been removed, leaving me in just my boxers, and my legs were in the same state.
When I'd been on that table all I'd felt was pain, but I'd had no idea what Stane had been doing. He's shown me the scalpel, and I'd felt the cuts, but seeing how many there were now, I wondered if he'd continued after I'd passed out.
Tentatively, I began to move my arms and legs, attempting to figure out if anything was broken. I knew my ribs were at least bruised as I clearly remembered that happening. Both my shoulders ached terribly, and I quickly let my arms fall back down. Stane had popped both my shoulders out and then back into their sockets.
My legs, mercifully, hadn't suffered any breaks, just the multitude of cuts. My feet had no broken bones either, but the cuts were much more excruciating on the sensitive flesh than on any other part of my body.
"Looks worse than it is," I asserted to which Peter responded with a disbelieving look.
"Just a bunch of flesh wounds," I expanded. "He just wanted to hurt me, not kill."
"Well, that makes it all better," Peter remarked sarcastically, venom in his tone.
"Not yer fault," I told him firmly, knowing that he was blaming himself. "There's nothing you could've done. Anyways, like you said, Tony'll be here soon, right?" I had wanted that to come out a statement, but it came out more like a plea.
I was in pain, and even if none of these were life-threatening, they hurt like a bitch. The psychological trauma, I think, was worse as I hadn't been able to see what Stane had been doing. All I'd been able to stare at was the ceiling or his sneering face. All I'd been able to hear was his cruel voice or my own screams.
"I'm sure he will be," Peter reassured me with an encouraging smile. "I saw that my suit was here, and there's a tracker in it, so the Avenges will no doubt be busting down the doors any second."
I nodded my head in agreement even though I didn't believe him. If the tracker had been working, they would've been here by now. I had no doubt Tony would come for us, but I had no idea how long it'd take for that to happen. I had no idea if I'd still be alive by then.
I shivered from the cold, and my nose wrinkled in disgust from the strong scent of my own blood. Seeing this, Peter took off his shirt and handed it to me. I made to object, but he told me he too was bothered by the strong scent of blood. I didn't know whether he was being honest or not, but I didn't bother overthinking it, and just took the offered shirt.
Peter had to help me take my shirt off, which was a much more painful endeavor that I ever thought it'd be. By the time I had his shirt on, I was panting from both exertion and pain.
"How long do you think we've been here?" I asked curiously, and Peter looked thoughtful before replying, "Less than a day. You were only gone a few hours, I think."
"I know the Avengers are coming and all, but how about you help them out by getting out and leading them here?" I suggested, and Petey boy frowned at me.
"I don't know what you think of me, but I would never abandon you," he declared vehemently, and I resisted rolling my eyes.
"S'not what I'm sayin'," I slurred, my lids starting to feel heavy again. I was so tired. Maybe it was the blood loss. "Just think…be faster if you…lead them here…," I managed to say before sleep overtook me…
…I came to with a jolt and a yell but was unable to move as I once more found myself strapped down.
No, no, no, no, no, I thought repeatedly in my head, my eyes flicking around the room. Once again, it was just Stane and I, and while I managed to glare at him, I couldn't keep from flinching when he gave me a light pat on the head.
"How was your nap, Harley? Feeling rested and ready to start again?" he had the gall to ask.
I spat out a curse, which only seemed to entertain him as he just chuckled.
"So, what tool should I test out now?" he asked rhetorically, looking somewhere towards his left. Heart pounding already, I struggled with my restraints, but they were as immovable as ever. Turning back towards me Stane placed electrodes all over my body.
Oh, shit.
"Let's see how many volts you can take before you pass out," Stane spoke, and my mind raced with a way to keep him distracted from further torturing me. Keep him talking, I thought. Ask him something!
"How are you still alive?" I blurted out. "Tony told me you were killed when his company's arc reactor blew up. You don't even have any burns."
Raising an eyebrow at me, Stane looked contemplative for a moment before giving a mild shrug.
"SHIELD saved me," he began, and I felt a jolt of shock and then anger on Tony's behalf. How could SHIELD have kept something like this from him? Then, I remembered why SHIELD no longer existed, so I asked a question.
"SHIELD or Hydra?"
Stane gave me an almost approving look as he nodded his head. "Hydra, of course. They felt my knowledge of Tony and Stark Industries could prove beneficial to them."
"I can see that worked out well," I commented with a smirk, inwardly smacking myself for my loose lips. The point of this chat was to keep him occupied, not get him angry. Thankfully, the ogre's response was simply a cold stare.
"Did you work with Killian?" I rushed to ask before he decided torture was more interesting than this conversation.
"Yes," he replied, "which is how I obtained myself a dozen Extremis bodyguards. I anticipated Maya Hansen's change in heart, which is why I made sure to get all information on Extremis prior to her's and Killian's deaths. I've had scientists working on it ever since, perfecting it so that there'd be no more explosive consequences, which would have alerted Tony."
"You've taken it," I deduced with a deep frown, and Stane's responding smile was answer enough.
"Why haven't you gone after Tony, then?" I pressed in honest curiosity.
"Because I'd lose," was the simple response. "I want to hurt my insufferable godson and attacking him head-on has proven fruitless for countless people already. Besides, as I already told you, the best way to hurt Tony is to hurt those he cares about. So, let's get back to business, shall we young Stark?"
My heart began to race again as I heard him connecting wires and powering on a machine.
"Tony is going to kill you, I swear to god!" I yelled with as much bravado as possible. "Whatever you do to me, he'll do ten times worse to you!"
Stane stood over me again, and I was taken aback when he told me, "I have no doubt Tony will eventually find us. Whether he'll kill me or not, I'm uncertain. He was always rather soft. Regardless, I don't care what he does to me, because whatever it is, it will never undo what I do to you or that little spider freak downstairs."
"What're you doing to Peter?" I questioned fearfully.
"Nothing for you to worry about," the monster replied, and with that I heard the flip of a switch before pain enveloped me.
Screams tore from my throat, my body jerking involuntarily as jolts of electricity coursed through my every nerve.
The electricity was cut off, and I was left gasping, tears spilling down my face from the amount of pain I'd felt. I'd barely caught my breath when the I heard the switch of a flip once more and all I could do was howl in agony. I couldn't think. I couldn't even plead for him to stop, because if I could I'd have been begging, pride be damned.
The jolts stopped abruptly and through my gasps for breath I heard yelling and the crashing. It was hard to make out, because everything suddenly sounded like I was underwater. My body kept spasming, and I still felt like I couldn't get enough oxygen in.
I saw Stane come into my view and even though I knew he was saying something to me, I couldn't make it out. I could make out his evil smirk and the gun in his hand, though.
This is it, I thought dismally. What a pathetic life I'd led. I'd done nothing good. I was responsible for Mom and Anna's death, and now I'd be used to hurt Tony. God, I'm so useless. I deserve this. I just wish Tony wouldn't take this hard. I wish he wouldn't blame himself. He'd be better off without me, anyways.
Feeling a sense of peace envelop me at these dark thoughts, I fearlessly stared back at Stane. I felt the cold metal of the gun barrel touch my left temple, and I closed my eyes.
I'm sorry, Tony, I couldn't help but think. I'm sorry I was such a failure.
BANG!
My eyes flew open in shock, heart hammering as I saw a red and blue blur rip my restraints.
Spider man. Peter. I attempted to greet him, but nothing came out of my mouth. I felt myself being picked up, only to let out a pained yell when both Peter and I were blown into a wall. Black spots began to dance in front of my eyes, but that didn't stop me from catching a large gold and red figure.
Mouth splitting into a grin, I managed to focus on the blur I knew to be Stane and say, "Told you he'd come."
Tony's POV:
My blood boiled as I looked between my injured boys and Obadiah Stane. I honestly didn't care how he was still alive. All I cared about was what he'd done to my kids. Seeing Peter bruised and with a collar had been bad enough, but Harley…I swallowed, feeling fury envelop my entire being as I stared at the man I'd once looked to like a father.
"Tony, how are you, my boy?" Stane asked jovially. "I was wondering when you'd stop by. As you can see, I was just spending some quality time with your son and mentee. They both remind me of you."
My helmet retracted, and I glared fiercely at Stane, my hands itching to simply choke the life out of him. I'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly as I did in this moment. Not even when I'd found out Barnes had killed my parents. I'd wanted to kill Barnes, but Stane…I wanted to kill him slowly and painfully. I wanted him to suffer.
"Get both of you out of here, Peter," I ordered the hero, knowing that the other Avengers and SHIELD agents would've cleared the way for him enough to get to safety.
Peter said nothing as he picked Harley up, but as he made to exit, a blast of fire stopped them in place. I stared in shock at Stane, who was now glowing a familiar red color. I should've known he'd take Extremis himself. He'd been more than eager to don the Iron Monger suit in order to take me out.
"So, why go after kids when you clearly had the power to come after me?" I asked, hoping to keep his attention on me rather than the boys. "Afraid I'd beat you?"
"This was never about beating you," Stane remarked calmly. "It was about hurting you." And, with those words, he began to glow even brighter, the power of Extremis beginning to burn his clothes.
Eyes widening in horror, I realized instantly what he was planning to do.
"Everybody evacuate NOW!" I roared into the comms. "Extremis explosion imminent! Blast radius half a mile at minimum!" Even as I spoke those words, I was racing towards Peter and Harley, intent on grabbing them and flying away. Stane, obviously anticipated this, for he rushed towards them with speed no doubt gained from Extremis. He reached the teens before me, but I barely had time to panic before Peter pulled back a fist and punched Stane so hard he went flying across the room.
He didn't get up again, but instead began yelling, signifying he was about to explode. Gathering the teens into my arms, I blasted into the air just as Stane exploded. Fear enveloped me as I pushed my suit as fast as I could, but even then, I still felt the heat and force of the blast. We all screamed as I attempted to stabilize us, but I could feel my jets failing, the heat searing even through my suit. I could feel us plummeting, and I did the best I could to protect my kids, willing my armor to wrap around them protectively instead of me. If we were crashing, then at least they'd be protected.
I was struggling to remotely control my suit in order to protect Peter and Harley while watching the explosion quickly approaching when I heard a loud roar come from below us. Grinning widely despite the pain I was in, I let out a laugh of relief when I felt Hulk's huge arms wrap around all three of us. With a single jump he got us well away from the blast radius and to safety.
We landed in the middle of a street, a huge crater forming as cars screeched to a halt around us. Thankfully, Hulk hadn't landed on anybody, but we now had a group of onlookers, phones already recording before they'd even come to a complete stop.
Gasping out due to both pain and adrenaline, I noticed Peter looking dazed while Harley was unconscious. I looked back in the direction of the blast and hoped that everyone had made it out safely.
"We need to get these boys to a hospital," I yelled to Hulk, and he grunted in acknowledgement before taking off at a run, the three of us cradled in his arms. For such a large creature, the Hulk could be surprisingly gentle.
It took mere minutes to reach a hospital, and although stunned, the doctors and nurses quickly attended to the boys' needs. I waved them off when they approached me, urging them to focus on the teens. I ordered them to leave Spider-man's mask on, but otherwise let them do what they needed. From the looks of it, Peter's wounds were more superficial, and with his quick healing he'd no doubt be fine in a couple of days. Harley's injuries, however…my blood boiled in fury while my eyes filled with tears of sorrow.
Why Stane? Why?!
Did he really hate me so much as to cause an innocent kid this much pain? He'd literally tortured a child just to get back at me!
I stared stonily at Harley, watching the nurses washing blood off his body. He looked incredibly young and small right now, his face paler than I'd ever seen it. He'd been gone less than two days, and he looked worse than after a month on the streets.
Damn you, Obadiah! He never deserved this! You should've taken your anger out on me, not Harley! Not Peter! Not my kids!
"Mr. Stark," a nurse interrupted, "will you allow us to tend to your injuries now? Both boys are being taken care of, and your burns need treatment if you'd like to prevent infection and reduce possible scarring.
Burns? Is that why I'm in pain? I reluctantly took my eyes off of Harley to look down at myself and was shocked to see I had burns going up and down both arms, and that my undersuit had burn holes in it. I'd been so focused on protecting Harley and Peter that I hadn't even noticed the pain I was in. It had to have been the adrenaline, because now as it was beginning to wear off, the pain in not just my arms but my body as well was beginning to increase.
As I was being looked over, Bruce walked in with Rhodey at his side. Both men looked extremely concerned, and upon seeing the state of not just me but Harley and Peter, their expressions turned alarmed.
"We need Helen Cho," I told them, and without a word, Bruce pulled out his phone and called her. Rhodey's eyes scanned the unconscious teens, lingering on Harley before landing on me.
"You look like shit," he remarked, and I grimaced, not having the energy for a smart-ass retort.
"Got caught in the blast. Had the suit protect the kids before Hulk caught us," I explained hoarsely. "Fucking Stane. He blew himself up."
Rhodey's expression darkened before softening in way too much understanding when he sat himself down next to me. My body was trembling now from the pain, so I was relieved when Bruce said Helen was already at the Avengers compound and that we had a Quinjet waiting for us.
Peter woke up at this point, his eyes wide as he looked around the room.
I'd been given pain medicine along with ointment and bandages over my burns to keep them from infecting, so Peter's eyes turned to panic when he saw me.
"Hey, pal," I greeted with a wide smile, going over and wrapping an arm around him. He hugged me back very lightly before asking me to explain what happened. I explained to him everything that had happened since I was notified of his kidnapping while we moved to the Quinjet, and while we were flying, he explained what he'd experienced.
I could feel my blood pressure rise at hearing how they'd toyed with Peter; however, I was glad he hadn't suffered the same treatment as Harley. Looking at my adopted son for the umpteenth time, my heart constricted painfully at what he had to have suffered through. The pain of torture was one thing, but add the mental torment to that…what state would he be in when he woke up?
I gritted my teeth as I recalled the scene I'd come upon in that god forsaken house. I didn't think I'd ever be able to get the image of Harley screaming and writhing on that table as Stane electrocuted him. His screams of agony echoed in my ears, and I wished desperately that Stane hadn't killed himself because I gladly would've broken every bone in his body one by one before ripping him limb from limb.
A nudge of my leg turned my attention to Rhodes who assured me that Harley would be fine.
"Physically," I acknowledged, fully trusting the capabilities of Helen, "but what about mentally? I'm worried enough about Peter whose at least had some training dealing with mental trauma, but Harleys had none of that. He's not some trained soldier, agent, or superhero. He's just a kid."
"He's stronger than you think," Peter interjected in a serious tone. "Despite what he'd been through, he was urging me to escape on my own since he knew he was dead weight. I'm not saying this won't affect him—I mean, I'll admit to being shaken up by what happened, but Harley will get through this because you won't let him deal with it alone. I know I've got all of you and May to help me, and so will Harley."
"I'd listen to him," Rhodes stated with a smug grin. "He's pretty wise for someone who's spent so much time with you."
Giving my oldest friend a brief glare, I then nodded to Peter, gracing the young man with a proud smile. He'd come so far since I'd first met him. He really was shaping up to be a great hero.
We arrived at HQ and Helen greeted us on the helipad along with several associates. It was just as we were attempting to move Harley into the cradle that the injured teen awoke with a start, kicking and hollering like a cornered animal. His eyes were wide with fear yet unseeing as he socked a man straight in the eye and bit a woman on the forearm.
I rushed over, narrowly avoiding a foot to the face as I attempted to gain his attention. The nurses managed to grab hold of Harley's flailing limbs, but this only seemed to worsen the situation as a scream of terror escaped his mouth. His eyes seemed to widen even more as did his desperate attempts to escape. I stood still in momentary shock at the scene before I ordered everyone to leave the teen alone.
"Get out!" I ordered harshly. "Now!" I insisted desperately, realizing that Harley was in the midst of a flashback, and that unfamiliar faces attempting to restrain him would only worsen the situation.
Once the room was cleared of everyone but Dr. Cho, who stood still and silent at the doorway, I once more approached Harley. I kept my voice soft and my expression gentle as I spoke to him.
"Hey, bud, it's Tony. Everything is alright now. You're safe," I spoke, and Harley's panicked, empty eyes focused on me. His gasping breaths seemed to slow, and I knew when his awareness came back because his eyes filled with utter relief, a quiet sob escaping him.
"Dad," he called brokenly, his hands reached out towards me like a toddler wanting to be picked up. Stunned though I was by what he called me, I didn't hesitate to rush over and pull him into my arms, practically cradling him as he cried into my chest. His cries tore through my being as they were filled with both fear and sorrow. I tightened my old, offering all the comfort I could to the broken teen. When would this world stop tormenting my boys?
I whispered soft and reassuring words, fighting back tears of my own as Harley's tears soaked my bandages. It was several minutes before Harley quieted, but it was only due to him passing out from exhaustion. Looking over to Helen, she quickly came over and once more readied the cradle. I very gently lay my boy down, relieved that his injuries could be fully healed by Helen's machine.
"I've set up the other cradle for you, Mr. Stark," Helen informed me, but I waved her away. There was no way I was leaving Harley alone, not after seeing the state he was in. A compromise was reached when she placed the cradle right next to Harley. Settling myself down, my eyes never wavered from Harley as Helen's equipment did its work.
He would be okay. I would make sure of it.