Chapter Text
Once we were back at the tower, Peter was taken straight to the med bay for Banner to assess. I wasn’t allowed in, no matter how much I pleaded. Cap and Rhodey kept me out.
“Tony,” Rhodey started with sympathy dripping in his tone, “I know how close you two are, but you going in right now like this will only make things worse. Banner needs to concentrate and Peter needs a calm environment. When he is stable enough to see people you’ll be the first.”
I’d already heard this speech 100 times. I didn’t want to hear it again. I just wanted to check and make sure that the kid I’ve come to care so deeply about is safe. After taking a few breaths and flipping both of them the bird I walked down to the prison and find the disgusting excuse for a human sitting, cuffed to the wall. His face is bloodier than I remember it being during the scuffle and I look at Natasha who just shrugs.
“He deserves it.” Was all she said. I just nod and look at him and he has the audacity to smile back at me,
“Open the door,” I say and the door opens and the smile that is on his face fades away, replaced with a look of terror.
“I’ll stay right outside Stark.” Was all Natasha said in response, in her usual calm tone, to me entering and that was the last sound I heard from her as the door shut behind me. Now it was just me and the man who hurt the child that I had come to think of as my own.
“Why?” Was the first thing I asked. I wanted to know why he decided to do this. Why did he think that he could get away with this? Why Peter?
He swallowed and just looked at me but didn’t answer. I took out a small cube from my pocket and held it up,
“You have one chance to talk willingly or I am going to start using force.” The villain looked unimpressed and unconvinced, “I have hung around with a young spider mutant for the last few months you don’t think I haven’t learned some weaknesses?”
His face goes pale but he still doesn’t speak. I smile as I hit the button and the device begins emitting low vibrations. With the help of Banner we were able to figure out an estimated range of frequencies that caused adverse reactions in spider mutants based off of Peter’s reactions. I watched as his back arched and he gritted his teeth in pain before screaming,
“S-Stop I’ll tell-tell you,” he panted and stuttered over some of the words but the declaration was enough. I stopped the device and waited patiently for him to begin talking. If he doesn’t start talking I’ll happily turn it up. I thought bitterly
“He needed to be fixed. He’s impure.” His eyes looked manic and it made my stomach churn, “you Avengers have corrupted him and he doesn’t truly know what he’s supposed to act like. I was trying to fix it.
I felt my face get red. He hurt and traumatised Peter because he wanted to ‘fix him’?! As if he could possibly know what the kid could need?!. The man continued, unaware of my growing rage,
“I had started to lose hope but then I spotted him. The opportunity was perfect. He doesn’t have any living biological relatives. Your intern is Spider-Man. So he is so entrenched in your guy’s team. There was no way that you guys didn’t mess him up.”
I was done. I couldn’t stand to listen to this any longer and I didn’t want to think about what he put Parker through for that whole week but I had to ask one more question,
“How many times did you beat him?” For the first time this entire conversation the man looked me in the eyes,
“I didn’t beat him. He simply didn’t always listen so I needed to take some corrective messages that you might not wholly approve of. But I couldn’t beat him because if I did he wouldn’t have survived.” Although I felt sick I kept listening and at this last part I raised an eyebrow. At my expression he continued, “with his enhanced metabolism he needs to eat more than most and he clearly hasn’t been.”
I was done. I had to see my kid, I pressed the button, turning the cube up to the level marked mild to moderate irritation. I took no pleasure in watching the man in pain but then I thought of Peter and I didn't feel as bad. When walking out I nodded to Natasha before making a b-line to the bathroom before going to the medbay.
Crack. I watched the glass crack in a spider web pattern under my fist as I punched the glass, ironic I think bitterly, of course it’s a spider web. I looked down at my fist, small rivulets of blood running down my knuckles as I tried to get a hold of myself. The room filled with the smell of copper and the only noise was the steady dripping of the blood and my heavy breathing. I’d let the kid down so badly. I hadn’t protected him when he needed it the most. Was going to beat him till he was ‘corrected’. Like he was a fucking dog! I felt my chest tighten and my throat close as images of Peter stuck with that psychopath filled my brain.
Suddenly I was on the floor gasping for breath. I tried my normal technique to get out of a panic attack In 2 3 4 Hold 2 3 4 Out 2 3 4. It was working for a few moments til my mind went to the last time I was doing this technique. The movie night with Parker and everything that followed that. Shit. I can’t breathe.
Eventually I was able to get everything under control but by then I was completely exhausted. I looked down at my hand and noticed that the bleeding had stopped and most of the blood had dried. I wonder how long? The thought crossed my mind briefly but I quickly shoved that thought to the side, Peter was more important.
I made my way up to the med bay and when they saw me both Cap and Rhodey exchanged glances and I felt my heart drop. I quickened my pace and got to the door much quicker than it should take someone walking along the hall normally.
“What’s going on?” I demand as I reach them and they both put their hands up in a placating gesture,
“Nothing Stark, he is just fine,” Rhodey assures me and I immediately move to enter and they step aside allowing me to enter the room they had previously denied me entrance into.
Walking in, had I not known what I know I’d have just assumed that Peter was sleeping on a cot wearing one of his dorky science shirts, but knowing what I know seeing him sleeping on that bed sent shivers down my spine.
“Stark,” Bruce called out, his voice gentle, but given the situation I didn’t care to think into the tone beyond that, “he is fine. He just needs some sleep and water. It doesn’t appear that the villain did more than knock him about a bit. He’s dehydrated but thankfully not malnourished. The things that are going to take the longest are the mental scars but he does have a mild concussion."
I just stared at Peter’s chest rising and falling as Banner was talking. I failed him. I let this happen to him. I felt the urge to go to him to hold him, to tell him nothing bad would ever happen again. But I didn't. I didn't want to hurt him more than he’d already been hurt. Just then his eyes fluttered slightly and I moved closer, still giving him some distance, but I wanted him to know that I was here and that I would always be here.
Once his eyes were open I could see those brown eyes that I’ve been missing for the past week, “hey kiddo…”
I spoke gently, not wanting to startle him. To my dismay once he seemed fully awake and his eyes were on me he moved away on the bed to be as far as he could from me. I didn’t know what to do. This kid, this kid that I’d spent countless hours with was now huddled on the edge of a bed fearful that I was going to hurt him. This wasn’t something money could fix and I didn’t know how to fix anything that wasn’t a robot.
“H-hey Mr.-Mr. Stark..” he stuttered out. I’d never heard the kid stutter before and hearing the hesitation and fear in his voice made my heart shatter. I sat down in the chair next to his bed and slid it away slightly so he could be on the bed instead of almost falling out of it.
“Do you want to talk?” I offered gently and the kid looked like I offered to shoot him. He just shook his head with a haunting look in his eyes. I just nodded, I understood. He just went through a trauma that, most likely, would haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to talk to me about it. Someone who failed to protect him from what happened. I felt my face heating up as tears began to gather in my eyes and I stood,
“I should le-let you rest…” My voice broke slightly as I spoke. But as I moved to leave I felt his hand on mine,
“D-don’t,” his voice was small and I could hear that he was almost in tears, “p-please don-don’t leave me-me…”
His last few words sounded more like whimpers rather than real words and I felt my heart shatter all over again. I paused. I wanted nothing more than to slide onto that bed and comfort this child that I’d started to see as my own. I also know what kind of trauma he went through and I didn’t want to hurt him, even if I listened to what he was asking.
“Okay kiddo, I won’t. What do you want me to do?” I ask turning back around to see him scanning my face and body, most likely searching and scanning for some kind of sign that I am lying to him. And that look, that hesitation that was held in every muscle of his body, hurt me in a way that words are too cheap and common to describe.
“Can,” the word was almost inaudible and I watched as his adams apple bobbed with hesitation as words seemed to fail.
“Do you want a hug?” I offered. Trying to take the burden off of him. The kid looked so scared but nodded. Then he cracked a small smile,
“Not ju-just trying to op-open a door?” I smile then shake my head before gently sliding onto the cot and maneuvering Peter so he can lay against me, “y-you’re warm..”
After looking at his eyes, the ones that all at once looked too old and too young to belong to him I sat down stiffly at first I still wasn’t completely sure this was the right thing to be doing. Then he snuggled against me and I relaxed slightly. Not just because his body was against mine but because I realized that I wasn’t going to break him if I relaxed.
At first when I came to the realization that I cared about the kid who was snuggled up against my chest I couldn’t figure out how he had become such an integral part of my life. But hearing that and looking down at his, now sleeping, form I realized that it was something that was inevitably going to happen because of how sweet and caring Parker was.