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“...Psst!”
Tony’s head remained hung, his chin resting on his chest. Peter cursed under his breath.
”Psst! Hey, Mister Stark!”
Peter’s grip on the metal prison bars of the window tightened hopefully as Tony’s eyes fluttered open and, finally, he began to lift his head.
”Yes! Mister Stark, over here!”
”What...?”
Tony blinked a few times to recalibrate himself, taking in his surroundings slowly. He started, registering the way his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tied to the legs of a chair. His eyes searched his cell in disgust before he noticed the prison-barred window toward the ceiling, immediately recognizing the head poking through the bars.
Peter was peeking into Tony’s cell, his face smushed between the two bars of the window as he stuck to the outside.
”...Peter?”
”Yes! Yes, it’s me! I’m here to save you!”
“What’re...what’re you...?”
“You were kidnapped, M’ster Stark! Don’t you remember?”
Tony blinked, recalling faintly walking to Peter’s apartment for a dinner made by May before someone was hitting his head and he was out.
”Pete, you-you gotta call for backup, buddy. Alright? You can’t take these guys on your own.”
”Yeah, I can!” Peter’s cheeks smushed between the bars as he spoke. “Besides, I’m not here for the bad guys. I came here for you!”
Tony’s heart sank as the butt of a gun slowly rose behind Peter’s head.
”Pete, look out-!”
Peter sent an elbow behind him without looking back, taking out the perpetrator and not flinching at the sound of a body thudding to the ground. Tony blinked, nodding impressively.
“That was...wow, okay.”
”Can you get out of those ties?”
”Dont you think I would’ve already cut them loose if I could?”
”Right. Stupid question. Okay, new plan.”
Peter released his fisted grip on the bars and stuck to the center block wall outside of Tony’s cell by his toes, placing his hands between two of the bars and putting as much force on them as he could before they were being pried apart, creating a big enough opening for Peter to crawl through.
Peter hopped through the small window and landing on his feet, standing triumphantly before he was crossing to Tony cautiously.
”Are there any explosives I could trigger by untying you?”
”Not that I know of.”
”Awesome.”
Peter tip-toed toward him before he was crouching down in front of his mentor and undoing the ties on his ankle.
“How did this happen? I’ve been looking for you for hours. You never showed up to dinner. You’re lucky someone got the plates of the van that took you because they took all of your tech, too.”
”I was...Honestly, I was just walking in the street. Happened so quick that I didn’t really have any time to think. Someone hit my head and I was out cold.”
”Shit. Are you okay?”
Peter’s eyebrows knit together in worry as he finished the ties on Tony’s ankles and brought his hand carefully to the back of Tony’s head, wincing at the blood staining his fingers.
“I’ll be fine later. I gotta tell you, kid, this is impressive. Your finest work. I’m proud.”
”Aw,” Peter beamed genuinely, “thanks.”
Tony beamed back. Peter started on Tony’s other ankle.
”Okay. Here’s what I’m thinking. There’s a long hallway of cells outside of this one. They’re all empty but I can hear guards outside of yours. You’re gonna stay in here while I take them out.”
”Why can’t we just hop out of that little window you made over there?”
Peter raised a brow and trailed his gaze back to the window near the ceiling, the metal bars still warped from Peter’s enhanced strength. His gaze trailed back uneasily to Tony.
”...We just can’t.”
”Why?”
”...C’mon, Mister Stark. You couldn’t fit through there.”
”Wha-are you serious?”
”Not only that, but you can’t climb walls. How are you gonna lift yourself all the way up there?”
”I can’t believe this.”
”Plus, you hurt your head, Mister Stark. It’s just-it’s easier my way.”
”Anything that goes your way almost always ends in complete and utter chaos.”
”I’m not the one that got kidnapped!”
“I got kidnapped walking to your apartment!”
”Why were you walking to my apartment?! You’re a billionaire! You’re supposed to be riding safely in cars, wearing disguises in public-”
”Yeah, well-“
Tony and Peter both jumped as the cell door was suddenly and violently shoved open, a gun-wielding guard standing in the threshold.
“Oh, hey there,” Tony began, clearing his throat rather obnoxiously. “Oh, this? This is nothing. I’m not with this guy. He was actually just tying me back up after I tried to escape.”
The guard cocked her gun. Tony’s mouth went dry as his gaze snapped back to Peter momentarily, who sat crouched completely still.
“No-no need for violence there, Point Break. We can be adults about this.”
The guard pointed her gun, aimed, and fired.
Peter made a choked noise. Tony’s head snapped down to look at him, heart jolting in dread at the dart lodged in Peter’s neck.
Peter sleepily turned his head Tony’s way, eyelids drooping closed yet his expression remained pained and confused.
Tony turned back to the guard, seething.
”You must be out of your damn mind-“
She shot again. Tony’s mouth parted in surprised horror as he stared at the second dart lodged in Peter’s shoulder.
”Pete...”
Peter’s breaths evened out before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was collapsing to the ground in a mess of limbs, entire body weighing three times more than it should.
Tony slowly, venomously turned his head back to the guard, his expression dark.
”For that, Rhodey is gonna kill you first.”
The guard said nothing, sauntering forward and grabbing Peter by the ankle before she was dragging him out of the cell, leaving a stupefied Tony to watch his kid go, almost lifeless.
“...Psst!”
Peter’s head remained hung, his chin resting on his chest. Tony cursed under his breath.
”Psst! C’mon, Underoos. Up and at ‘em.”
Peter groaned in pain. Tony’s eyes lit up hopefully, craning his head back to get a good look at his kid.
”There he is. You’re okay, kiddo. Everything is perfectly okay.”
Peter frowned, finally lifting his head. His vision cleared itself of fuzz and distortion as he blinked, taking in his surroundings carefully.
He was tied to a chair. The wall in the cell ahead of him was glass, a large, empty room on the other side. Peter looked ahead at his reflection, noticing first and foremost the person he saw behind him.
Mister Stark...?
Peter jolted suddenly in his seat, searching the cell feverishly.
”Mister Stark? Where-?”
”Easy, kiddo. I’m right here. Turn around.”
”What...?”
Peter craned his head curiously behind him, immediately bonking heads with Tony, who was tied back-to-back with Peter in his own chair.
”...Mister Stark?”
”You with me, Pete?”
”What...wha’ happened?”
”You took enough tranquilizers to take out the Hulk is what happened. You feelin’ okay there?”
”Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
”Don’t bullshit me, kid.”
Peter frowned as he tugged at his restraints but to no avail.
“What’s-why-why can’t I get out of these?”
”Yeah,” Tony winced, “I had a feeling this would happen. The spider half of your DNA probably took a few hits when those tranqs got into your system. You’re sure you’re okay?”
”I feel...heavy.”
”I bet. Just hang tight, kid. You’ve still got your suit on. Help is on the way.”
”Oh, god,” Peter jolted again, “where’s my mask? I-I took it off when I came into your cell and it was in my hand and I-“
”Easy, bud. Deep breaths. You’re not the one they’re after anyway. You’re little secret is probably gonna stay safe.”
”On the contrary.”
Peter and Tony both snapped their heads toward the cell door as it creaked open and revealed a tall, pale, slender man standing in the doorway, gaze sinister yet amused.
”We never realized that Tony Stark has such an important asset.”
The man sauntered forward and wielded a pocket knife from his suit jacket, flicking it open and raising Peter’s chin with the tip of it. Peter stared ahead blankly, though he prayed the fear in his eyes remained hidden.
”Hey,” Tony snapped. “Piss off, Count Dracula. Don’t touch him.”
“Spider-Man. You’ve proven to be quite a nuisance for my team. Many of them are behind bars for life because of your work. It’s admirable, really.”
Peter bit his tongue and said nothing.
”As a matter of fact, I could even use you to get them back out.”
”What?” Peter scoffed. “I’m not gonna break criminals out of jail. I put them there for a reason.”
The man pressed the knife forward a fraction. Peter winced as he felt his skin prick.
”It’s quite a relief, then, that you won’t have a choice.”
The man lifted the knife menacingly, admiring it with the tip of his finger.
”Of course, torture is always effective.”
Tony pulled at his restraints suddenly, desperate to wrap his hands around the man’s throat. The man’s lip quirked in a smirk.
”Uh, a-actually, y’know, you don’t have to do that,” Peter stuttered on his words with a nervous smile, licking suddenly dry lips. “I mean, uh, it’s a little over the top. Torture is, like, not an okay way to end things.”
”You know, Spider-Man, torture doesn’t always have to be physically painful. Sometimes it can drag out for weeks and weeks, a numb, psychological type of pain.”
”...Oh. It’s just-it’s just that the knife was kinda misleading.”
”Well, it’s not for you.”
Peter’s face drained of color instantly. Tony froze, too, dread taking in as he closed his eyes.
”It’s for Stark.”
Tony swallowed, careful not to reveal Peter’s name.
”...Spidey, it’s okay.”
Peter ignored him, his gaze dark and venomous.
”You’re not touching him.”
”Well, I’ll cut you a deal. You help me break every single member of my team out of prison, and I’ll give him back to you, unharmed, as well as your identity.”
”And if I don’t?”
Any amusement left on the man’s face was gone as darkness swept over him and he was glowering down at Peter like he was prey.
”If you don’t, I kill Stark in front of you and share your identity with the world.”
Peter’s face fell, his innocence lost.
Not at the threat of his identity being exposed, but at the idea of this man killing Tony, a man he easily considered his father.
”Don’t listen to him, Spidey.”
”Do you have even the slightest idea how much your name would go for on the black market? How much money people would pay to know who you truly are and kill you and everyone you love?”
”Don’t listen to his voice, kid. Listen to mine.”
“You won’t have a voice to listen to if you don’t shut your mouth, Stark.”
Something feral snapped inside of Peter as he watched the way the man before him snarled at Tony, the way he clutched the knife with the intent of using it against his mentor.
Before he knew it, he could only see in red, their voices nothing but a distorted blur as he suddenly ripped his right leg free from the ropes tying it back and sent his foot straight into the man’s crotch.
”Agh-!”
The man toppled to the ground with a cry. Peter wasted no time in wriggling himself free from his other ties weakly, rounding the chair to get to Tony.
”Kid,” Tony breathed, eyes looking Peter up and down in concern. “You got your powers back?”
”Not yet,” Peter mumbled, seething in anger as he began untying Tony’s ankles. “Just mad.”
”Kid...don’t listen to a word that lowlife says. I’m okay, and so are you. Help will be here soon anyway, I know it. You just gotta breathe.”
A snarl from behind made Peter stand in alarm with wide eyes, wasting only a moment to gasp before he was ducking his head , a knife flying through the air and lodging into the wall directly behind where his head used to be. Tony’s mouth parted in numb surprise.
“Your compliance,” the man said, “or next time, it’s Stark’s head as the target.”
Peter stood again, his body still out of it from the drugs though he puffed his chest out with as much confidence and pure rage as he could as he rounded the chair and charged the man’s way.
Tony hopped around in the chair he was bound to and turned it to face the two, watching in numb horror as the man wielded another pocket knife and began making swings at Peter’s face.
”Hang in there, kid!”
Tony tugged uselessly at his restraints. Peter swung his fist. The man ducked, punching Peter in the gut.
”Get your head in it, buddy!”
Peter stumbled a bit, sick to his stomach. The man slashed Peter’s calf with his knife.
”You’ve got it! You’re doing great. As soon as I get untied, I’ll help. Cross my heart.”
With a snarl of anger, the man charged forward and sent Peter flying through the glass wall, shards of glass flying every which way. Peter landed on his back with a groan, sputtering on the ground with the wind knocked out of his lungs.
”...Oh, my god. Kid? Kid! Are you alive?”
Tony’s words filtered in and out of Peter’s head, angelic and ethereal. He found comfort in them for only a moment.
”Kid! C’mon, get up!
Peter blinked his eyes open wearily, staring at the ceiling above him. He wrapped a hand around his ribs protectively, entire body aching.
Tony’s urgency clouded his judgment as he screamed the kid’s real name.
”Peter! Move!”
Peter’s senses honed in on the knife hovering above his face, coming down for the kill. He rolled to the right in one swift movement, the knife intended for his face lodging itself into the ground instead.
Peter spent only a moment blinking in astonishment before the man was ripping the knife out of the floor and growling at Peter.
”Peter, is it?”
Peter snarled, jumping to his feet and sending a foot straight into the man’s gut.
“You’ve got it, Pete! You’ve got it! Kick his ass!”
Peter wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and swung a not-so-enhanced fist to the man’s nose.
“I’m almost-I’m almost out of these ties! Just give me two seconds-”
The man swiped his knife across Peter’s abdomen. Peter cried out in alarm and fell back.
”Any minute now, kid! Help is on the way!”
Peter finally turned Tony’s way, the very thing he fought recklessly for now the victim of his wrath.
”You’re not helping!”
Tony blinked but nodded, shrugging.
”Didn’t really think I was. Just-just hang in there!”
Peter kicked the man to the ground and aimed his web-shooter at the man, scoffing in annoyance when he noticed it was no longer wrapped around his wrist.
”You took my web-shooters.”
And, to Peter’s surprise, the man stayed on the ground, raising his hands in surrender.
“...Really?”
“Kid,” Tony said. He gestured his head behind Peter, relief in his gaze. Peter frowned, turning over his shoulder and melting in relief at the sight of War Machine behind him, aiming his rocket-clad fist the man’s way.
“Oh,” Peter nodded, huffing out in exhaustion. “Well, you’ve-you’ve got him handled, then.”
Rhodey nodded. Peter stumbled on his feet as he made his way toward Tony, wiping again at the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth on his way.
”Kid, jesus, you alright? You were awesome, Pete. You were like Bruce Lee out there.”
Peter knelt down in front of him, still doped up on tranquilizers and adrenaline as he reached his hand behind Tony’s chair to untie the ropes binding his wrists together.
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, examining Tony’s wrists with a wince. They were red from rope burn, blood prickling from his skin. “How’s your head?”
”Peter.”
Peter paused his feverish search for wounds to look up at Tony, eyes questioning as Tony lurched forward from his seat, kneeled on the ground, and pulled Peter into a protective hug.
Peter froze for only a moment before he was wrapping his arms around Tony, taking in a fistful of his shirt. Tony breathed Peter in, enamored and amazed and thankful.
”I’m proud of you,” Tony told him, rubbing his back reassuringly. “And I love you, kid. So much.”
“I love you, too.”
Peter held him as tight as he could before a wave of nausea overcame him and he weakened his grip, growing limp in Tony’s arms.
”Pete?”
”Sorry,” Peter huffed. “M’ sorry...jus’ couldn’t let him hurt you.”
”Yeah,” Tony breathed a laugh, bringing a hand to cup Peter’s face. His face was etched with worry as he studied his kid’s bloody, bruised face. “I know, kid. But you took a lot of hits.”
”I...huh?”
”Steady, Pete. You’re about to pass out, alright?”
”...I am?”
”Yep.” Tony brought another hand up to pet Peter’s curls. “But it’s okay. You did a good job, kiddo. I’m proud of you.”
Peter didn’t need to be told twice before he looked down at himself and saw the blood staining his suit, his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell backward.
The last thing he felt were Tony’s hands wrapping around his back to catch him, protective and safe and loving. He melted into them as he drifted out of consciousness.
“Love you, Peter.”