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Peter swirls around, arms out, legs apart, bracing himself. The elevator shakes and creaks with the force of whatever exploded on the outside. The lights blinks, and he stands there, frozen in place, listening.
There’s shouting, shooting, heels clicking against the floor as people run around. What the hell just happened? Everything was fine just a few minutes ago. He was just headed down for lunch.
He checks his wrists, and groans when he remembers his web shooters are still in the lab. Fuck . Guess he’ll have to deal with this without any tools.
He tries the doors first, but they won’t even nudge a little. What the fuck, Tony? Why do you need this much force on an elevator door?
He crawls up to the ceiling next, but stops the second his feet move away from the floor and the elevator creaks again. That’s not good.
He can hear Tony’s suit blasting shit left and right, mumbling orders to Friday, someone else is barking orders a few floors below him. This is not good. He needs to get out of here.
He moves slowly, carefully up to the ceiling, biting his lip as the whole metal box shifts. He tries the hatch, but even that’s not moving an inch.
Why would the security hatch be so heavy? He can lift cars, no trouble. He should be able to open this thing. Tony wouldn’t seal off the emergency exit. What is going on here?
There’s heavy boots marching around under him somewhere, and he follows the sound, trying to pinpoint them. Are these the bad guys? How did this even happen? And what exactly did happen?
Tony grunts, and his suit clinks into something. Peter’s head snaps up immediately, and he shuffles as calmly and quickly as he can over in that direction, trying to hear better what’s happening on the outside.
But Tony gets back up and shoots a lame joke at somebody before he fires his repulsor. Peter needs to get out of here. There has to be a way out.
But then there’s another explosion that shakes his tiny prison and he yelps, clinging to the corner to the best of his ability. The whole thing swings slightly, and the wires are making noises he’d rather they not make when he’s still inside.
His breathing increases, and he swallows, closing his eyes briefly. This is not good. This is not good at all.
*
Tony isn’t exactly sure what happened. One second, Peter was headed out to grab lunch for them, the next the entire left wall was missing and he was thrown across the lab, suit forming around him.
He didn’t have much time to think about it, however, because there were people with guns and swords attacking him. And they were everywhere.
Friday started evacuating the employees, and called in help from the avengers, and there wasn’t much Tony could do other than fight these guys off.
He hopes Peter is okay, somewhere. Maybe he got out before it all happened. He knows, realistically, that he wouldn’t have made it all the way down if he took the elevator. But he’s allowed to hope, right?
This is Peter, after all. He could just as well have decided to take the vent route down to the lobby, or sprint down the stairs, just to move his legs a little.
He blasts, and dodges, and tries his best, but his suit isn’t really built for inside fighting. He can’t maneuver his way around as much as he’d like when he’s surrounded by walls.
There’s so many of them, though. Where are they all coming from? Who are these dudes? What do they want?
He tries to ask Friday, but she’s got no clue, and from what it looks like, they’re only after him. But why attack like this? Surely they could have found an easier way to take him out?
Or are they not trying to take him out? Who goes against Iron Man with bullets and swords? “Friday? Are there more of these guys anywhere else in the building?”
*
There’s muffled voices closer to him now, feet moving almost soundlessly. They remind him a little about the ninja assholes Matt keeps fighting off. But not quite, because those guys make no sound at all. Who are these guys? What do they want?
There’s a dull thud coming from above, shaking the container he’s stuck in, and he holds his breath, waiting. Preparing to fight whoever manages to get in here.
But no one tries to enter. Instead there’s a sweet scent seeping through the cracks of the hatch in the ceiling. That can’t be good.
He frowns, locks his eyes on the nearly invisible smoke creeping up on him. It’s almost magical how it flows in the air, moving in waves and covering the floor in a thick blanket.
*
“Boss, I’ve lost visual of the building.” Well, fuck. He fires up his boosters and zooms out of the open hole in the wall. The Avengers should be here soon. Hopefully.
He hovers over the building for a second, checking to see what the intruders will do. They don’t follow him, which is a little disappointing. He would have liked to see them all just fall over and down to the ground.
But it almost seems like this was their plan all along, because as soon as he’s out of their line of fighting, they scatter around, headed further into the building.
“Friday? What are these guys after?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let's find out then, shall we?”
He lowers himself, quietly, retracting his suit and sneaks around a corner, tiptoeing closer to where they all took off. There’s a bunch of them standing around the elevator shaft, mumbling quietly to each other. Where did all the others go?
What’s so interesting about the elevator?
Oh. Oh no.
Peter.
“Friday, did Peter take the elevator down?” he whispers, trying to creep a little closer, but staying out of sight for now.
“Yes, boss.”
“Is he still in there?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
Tony stops. What? “Why didn’t you tell me?” he hisses, and ducks down behind an overturned conference table. He can probably guess why she didn’t tell him. She doesn’t need to explain. She’s programmed to keep him safe. And if his life was in more danger than Peter’s at the time, of course she wouldn’t tell him.
The question now, though, is why isn’t Peter doing anything? He shouldn’t have a problem with breaking through those doors. He wouldn’t have stayed in there if he knew there was something going on outside.
*
There’s something so beautiful about the pale, sweetly fog that surrounds him, and Peter just can’t help but gravitate towards it. It looks like a cloud. Does it feel like a cloud too? It couldn’t hurt to touch it, could it?
He unsticks one hand from the wall, reaches out to drag his fingertips through it, and it tingles and stretches out, licking up his palm and forearm. He giggles, and swirls his hand around, watches, amazed, as the smoke bends to his will.
He wants to dive into it, bathe in it. Let it dance around him. He grins happily, letting his feet go from the wall too, jumping down. Something vibrates under him, but he can’t find it in him to care.
He feels light. Soft, in a way. He lays down on his back, arms and legs spread out, watching as the cloud swirls beautifully around him.
*
The intruders nod to each other, and something happens very fast, Tony doesn’t even have time to process it all before he has to spring into action.
Someone jumps down, someone steps back, and a sword is thrown into the shaft, and Tony’s heart stops for a second as the wire holding the elevator snaps. He leaps forward, suit forming around him as he dives into the open elevator doors, going as fast as he can to catch up to the metal box.
None of the bad guys are in there, which he probably should worry about, but Peter is in the elevator, and it’s plummeting way too fast down to the ground floor. He needs to catch up to it.
He shoots at the roof, blowing it open so he can get to Peter before it’s too late. But something’s wrong . Peter is laying there, smiling, eyes closed. He looks peaceful . What the hell?
“Pete!” he yells, forcing his suit to go just a little faster, and he reaches out a hand, begging for Peter to grab onto it. But he doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t even twitch when Tony screams.
Come on, baby. Take my hand. Please. You can do it. Just open your eyes.
He manages to get into the metal box, just as they reach the ground floor, and the sound is deafening. It booms and rings and he’s sure his brain explodes. Everything rattles around in his head, his entire body shakes, but he instinctively grabs Peter, wraps himself around him, trying to protect him from the worst hit of the impact.
He stays like that for a long time. He’s not sure he’s even able to move. His suit is locked in the position, every muscle tensing. His eyes clenched shut, too scared to open them and see the damage.
Peter is still not moving. Cradled limp in his arms, and when he manages to open his eyes, the only thing he sees is the faint glow of his arc reactor illuminating Peter’s loose neck and slack mouth.
“Pete?” he whispers, and his voice cracks. Dark smoke and dust and debris surrounds them in every direction, and Peter’s still so quiet and peaceful. Eyes gently closed, as if he’s asleep.
Tony knows he isn’t. But he wants to believe that this is just a dream. A nightmare. A twisted part of his brain made this all up when Peter joked about his horrendous lunch habits on his way out of the lab.
He stares, and stares and stares. Waiting for Peter to open his eyes, tell him that he fooled him. His laugh from earlier echoes in the tiny elevator shaft they’re crouched in. Filling his still ringing ears and his brain with the sound the image as Peter throws his head back, brown curls bouncing on his head as he struts away, promising to be back with something tasty.
“Pete?” he tries again, his suit retracting from his hand so he can comb through the messy curls with trembling fingers. There’s no reaction. No sign of any movement at all.
He sobs, faceplace disappearing from his head, and he blinks a tear away. It drops down silently, landing on Peter’s grey and dusty cheek.