I know the title is rubbish, I tried so hard... (literally half an hour of staring at my screen)
7707 views, i'm dying of joy here, thank you so, so much! :)
Also, I wanted to write fluff for the birthday of my favourite monster (friend on tumblr) and this was honestly the fluffiest I could manage right now * sheepish grin * sorry that you guys got it a day later, i had to reply to reviews!
8: Tears Are Shed, Vows Are Due
Tony doesn't know what's happening.
He doesn't know if this is real or not but, right now, he couldn't care in the slightest.
To his utter shock, he'd woken up to see - actually see, which was surprising enough in itself - that he wasn't in the chair. He'd found himself slumped against the wall of what had looked like a communal shower, which is where he still is.
Except that most communal showers don't have flashing red lights and the dull echo of a siren, the combination of which is enough to drive anyone mad.
"Peter?" Tony calls, his voice hoarse. "Pete? Are you in here?"
When he gets no reply, he moves to stand up, then promptly cries out. Biting his tongue in case Peter is listening, he glances down at himself to see handcuffs around his wrists and blood seeping out from his left side.
The memory of waking up last time with little scars around his wrists that had reminded him of handcuffs hits him like a battering ram and he has to close his eyes for a minute, trying to accept that the events in his head are not the whole picture and that he'd probably been here before but he just can't remember it.
Only once he can place at least minimal trust in his mind does he silently thank their captors for handcuffing his hands in front of him before gently lifting his shirt to see an angry but uninfected red area of raw skin, maybe two inches across and still bleeding, which he knows to be a bullet graze.
Thankfully, it's not deep enough to immobilise him but it is burning almost fifty times as worse than when he'd tried alcohol for the first time.
Normally, he'd take his shirt off and wrap that around the wound to stop the bleeding but he can't, not with his hands handcuffed together and nothing in the vicinity that could help him pick the locks.
He takes a deep breath, grits his teeth, and awkwardly pulls himself up and rolls his body at the same time, ending up on his knees, breathless. After ten seconds of recovering, he kneels up, clutching the wall for support, sweat trickling down the side of his face from the effort. Another ten seconds and then he's lifting a leg, kneeling down on one knee, and then shakily standing up, immediately leaning on the wall and shutting his eyes, his side screaming at him to sit back down.
"Pete?" Tony calls again, his voice weak but his determination strong. "Pete, please, please tell me you're in here…"
When he gets no reply, he sighs and presses his hands against his bleeding wound, starting to walk. He almost collapses after the very first step, barely managing to avoid a strong encounter with the floor, but stumbles his way deeper into the room, avoiding the closed door behind him and heading to the ajar one.
"Peter…" Tony breathes, trying not to focus on the sickeningly wet feeling of blood between his fingers.
He practically falls onto the door, groaning when it slides open with ease and makes him crash into the wall. That hurts, it hurts so much, but he knows Peter had been in more pain almost all the time so he sucks in a breath and pushes down the agony.
Hearing a muffled noise, he clumsily whirls around, his eyes widening when he sees his son sat in the corner of the small space, squashed between the toilet and the wall, a gag still in his mouth.
He meets Peter's terrified gaze within milliseconds, the two of them freezing, staring at one another, expecting a catch but being met with only silence and their own uneven breathing.
Without thinking, Tony falls to his knees, not caring about the spikes of pain that instantly make themselves know, hesitating only microscopically before reaching out and gently rubbing a thumb over the irritated but not infected, healing wounds on Peter's feet.
It's minimal contact and, at any other time, with any other person, it would mean nothing but, screw every other situation, this is his son and he's real and he's here and they're touching and his son is alive and they're together after so long, too long, and everything is suddenly so much better.
Peter all but whimpers and scoots forwards as much as he can before something clinks and he's pulled back sharply.
"Pete? What…?" Tony cuts himself off, seeing the handcuffs around Peter's wrists, the handcuffs looped around a pipe.
Pushing aside his self-hatred, Tony shuffles as far as he can and lifts his hands to undo the gag in Peter's mouth, his heart falling when Peter flinches. He stops immediately, pulls back, and smiles as best as he can. "Hey, hey, Pete, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Will you let me take this away, please?"
He waits until Peter slowly nods and turns his head to the side before reaching up again, fumbling with the triple knot before eventually, eventually getting it loose enough to slip it off Peter's face.
"Mister Stark…" Peter coughs, his eyes watering. "You're hurt, I'm sorry, I-"
"No, no, none of that. It's okay, I'm fine," Tony murmurs, placing his hands on either side of Peter's face, his thumbs tracing circles on Peter's skin.
Peter leans into his touch, a small sob escaping him, a sob of relief and happiness. His whole body melts into Tony's touch and Tony's so happy because there's a tiny, tiny smile on his son's face and he's actually touching him, physically touching him, and nobody's charging in with a threat of punishment and it's everything he's been dreaming of recently.
"Mister Stark, please, I'm so sorry, I just want to go- I- I want to go home! I can't do this anymore, please, I want to get out of here, Mister Stark, I don't- I can't take it, I'm sorry," Peter babbles, sobbing harder, struggling with the handcuffs, the metal digging into his fragile skin as he tries to move closer to Tony.
If only he wasn't stuck in such a small space, Tony would have squeezed in next to him.
"Kid…" Tony sighs, leaning down and placing a gentle, solid kiss on Peter's forehead. He uses this thumbs to brush away the fallen tears on Peter's face and offers a strained smile. "Peter, I love you so much. I'm so proud of you for hanging on for so long, you're truly the strongest kid I know. I wish you hadn't had to but you did so well, you were the best. What do you say we get you out of those handcuffs, yeah?"
He suppresses a wince as the talking aggravates the pain in his side and focuses on Peter's teary but hopeful eyes.
Peter nods shakily, his chin trembling, and shifts himself to the side as much as possible, curling up into a tiny structure, making Tony want to just wrap him in love and protect him from the world.
Shaking his head to focus, he grabs the gag from where he'd randomly thrown it earlier and twists one corner until it's almost sharp, licking it and then awkwardly leaning over and around Peter to try and pick the handcuffs. Just his luck, the hand he tries first is double locked, meaning that he can't get into it without a key, almost causing him to give up.
Gritting his teeth and twisting the fabric again, he tries the other cuff, wriggling it around and hoping, praying, that this one will be easier to pick.
"Mister Stark?" Peter asks, his voice quiet, hollow.
Tony hums, biting his lip, not wanting to even breathe in case he angles it wrong and the whole thing fails.
"I'm still here, Pete, it's okay, you're going to be okay," he murmurs, keeping his eyes on the stupid handcuffs.
"You're bleeding," Peter mumbles, leaning his head on Tony's shoulder. It takes all of Tony's self-control not to positively melt at the feeling, having craved for it every second since they'd gotten here.
He clenches his jaw, pushing the fabric in, holding his breath even though he can feel his face going red, and continuously wishing for it to work until, finally, finally, somehow, luckily, there's a soft click and the metal ring splits apart, falling off Peter's wrist and hitting the floor with a soft thud.
"Hold still, kid," Tony mutters, hauling in oxygen for his wailing lungs and gently unhooking the handcuffs from the pipe, taking a deep, guilty breath before locking the open handcuff ring around Peter's wrist, double locking it so they're both on Peter's left arm like some kind of bracelets.
As soon as he's done that, he moves back so he can kneel properly and pulls Peter close, wrapping his arms around his small shoulders, one hand gently cupping the back of his head.
Peter sobs, his arms sliding around Tony, practically melting into his embrace.
Tony lasts almost ten seconds before his eyes water as well, pulling Peter closer, terminating the space between them, wanting to just drown in the feeling of his son, of their embrace. He almost can't believe that it's actually happening, that this is real and there isn't some kind of catch.
They move only when Tony winces from the pressure on his wound, Peter then shifting them so Tony is propped up against the wall. "Are you sure you're okay, Mister Stark?"
"I've never been better, Pete," Tony admits, pulling Peter close to him once again, unable to get enough of his son being alive and in his arms.
Peter lets out a small laugh, burying his face in Tony's chest and clutching at his shirt, taking large, shaky breaths as if he's trying to physically breathe in Tony. Tony looks down at his son and smiles, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't burst into tears, and just appreciating the immense amount of strength the poor teenager has shown.
The pale red light around them is menacing but Tony doesn't pay it any heed, instead drinking in the sight of Peter's small, happy smile. The dark red blood sluggishly seeping out of his abdomen doesn't look good but the pain is more manageable now and can easily ignore it in favour of Peter's arms around him. The petulant red flags in his mind trying to tell him that he should be fearful right now are frustrating but he doesn't give them the attention they want, dismissing them so he can focus solely on gently running his fingers through Peter's soft, albeit sweaty, hair.
"I've got you," Tony whispers as Peter starts shaking.
He slowly rocks them in a circular motion, intermittently placing soft, fleeting kisses on Peter's head, each one full of apologies and promises neither of them need to hear out loud to be aware of.
Back and forth, left to right, they don't stop moving for a second, occasionally shifting so they're not putting pressure on Peter's injured feet or Tony's bleeding wound. Of course, Peter had tried to offer his shirt as a bandage but Tony had vehemently refused, hating the idea of exposing Peter's scars to the cold room, not wanting to risk anything that could worsen Peter's condition.
"Please don't leave me again," Peter whimpers, his hands fisting in Tony's shirt desperately. Truth be told, Tony doesn't fully understand what he means but he gently shushes Peter and tightens his grip around him, murmuring reassurances.
Even though he stops blatantly sobbing after a while, Peter doesn't stop sniffling, round after round after round of tears slipping from his eyes and over his cheeks, dripping onto Tony's shirt. He can feel the damp patch growing but he doesn't mind because after all, a crying son he can comfort is far better than a crying son he can't reach or, worse, no son at all.
Not that Tony's much better anyway, his tears falling almost as readily as Peter's. They're a mess and nothing is perfect but they're together and they're hugging and, for the first time since they'd gotten here, they can hope for a way out, a way out for both of them, together.
"I love you, kid," Tony admits softly, letting his head rest on top of Peter's.
Peter goes silent for a second, scaring the life out of Tony, then yawns and looks up groggily, giving Tony a lopsided grin. He stretches a little and settles back down so he's basically lying in Tony's lap, their limbs entangled.
"Mhm... love you too, dad," Peter breathes, his eyelids fluttering as he yawns again.
Tony's heart skips not only a beat, but an entire verse. His vocal chords refuse to work as Peter yawns widely before slipping into an exhausted sleep, curling around Tony and looking akin to a baby koala.
He clutches onto Peter, his eyes prickling with tears that are made, if one were to disregard science, purely of emotion. There are no words to describe the rush of pride, remorse, happiness, pain, and hope that hits Tony like a tsunami, burying him in conflicted feelings and a renewed determination to protect his kid, his son.
Looking down at his sleeping son, he vows to get Peter out of here as soon as possible, no matter what, even if it kills him, because this has to end and it has to end now; Peter deserves better.
As Peter's face crumples in his sleep and Tony has to pull him closer as he hums a random melody to get him to calm down, he vows to get Peter back home, where he'll be safe and protected.
If this is indeed real and he doesn't wake up in cold sweat again, he vows to end this and get Peter back to a place where he can hope and his hopes can come true, rather than be destroyed as he screams for Tony.
Glaring at the red lights flashing over them, pulling Peter as close as possible, Tony vows to fix everything.
Okay, so there might be typos since I wanted to post before I missed her birthday entirely! If you point them out, please be kind!
Trekkiehood, Bella, StarStepper, Ikia, Bidchubbypanda, PrincessNaina: sorry, the fic calls for angst...
laily spenstar, VampireLover9: I know... Not exactly a rescue, I know, but there was some comfort so hey!
Guest (jul 20), carajiggirl, Shadow-wolf78: thanks so much!
Cal: don't worry, I get what you mean, but I had some ideas I had to use before the escape comes in! More revealed soon, hope this chapter was okay!
Puppens101: yass it's working! *cackle* no but seriously, sorry, i hope you recovered x
Guest (jul 21): Aw, thanks, that means a lot! I hope this chapter was less traumatising!
Supersecretbob: did you mean suspenseful? ;) also, fair enough, i deserve that. i'll cover for you, murder away! I haven't really watched kingsman (ik ik i'm so uncultured) so i can't, i'm sorry! maybe find another, more amazing writer?
Please leave a review with your thoughts?