Chapter Text
Bagels.
The reason Tony Stark was currently sat in a cold, dark, basement-looking room was bagels.
Well, if he had to really dissect the reasoning it would be because Tony’s kryptonite was a pair of brown doe eyes belonging to no other than fifteen year old Peter Parker. And if that kid wanted bagels he was sure as hell getting them.
Maybe that made the kid spoilt, but in reality, Peter rarely asked anything of Tony, so when the kid came barrelling into the car from school asking for such a simple thing, Tony couldn’t say no.
It was a rookie error, walking there and taking a shady short cut, but Peter insisted he’d walked it hundreds of times and ‘ it’s completely safe, Mr Stark.’
And usually it would have been, if Peter wasn’t in the initial stages of a sensory overload, throwing off his Peter Tingle.
They had been sat there for a while now, chained to opposite sides of the room, both likely experiencing a crappy concussion from a solid hit to their heads on the way to the bagel shop Peter dearly loved.
The kid had come to quicker than Tony, sporting a look torn between terrified and concerned when the billionaire finally woke.
“Why hasn’t anybody come in yet?” Peter whispered, wincing as he spoke.
Tony sighed. This was the worst possible time to have an overload. “I don’t know Pete, just try and rest.”
Peter nodded, face scrunched in pain as he tried to make himself comfortable.
Tony was glad the room was almost pitch black, Peter hated light when his senses went haywire. He’d made glasses for the kid to help with it, along with ear buds and a weighted blanket equipped for spider-baby’s. It killed Tony watching him suffer when he goes to such lengths to prevent it.
Peter must have received a strong wave of pain because Tony heard him starting to whimper. “Shh, Pete, you’re okay. It’s gonna’ be okay.” Tony murmured almost silently but he knew Peter would hear.
He wanted to ask Peter to see if he could break out of his cuffs but the kid was currently in no state to do that.
The minute Tony had awoken he’d hit the panic button on his watch, he just hoped someone would come before things got serious. He really didn’t want to put the kid in harms way getting them out.
Suddenly, the sound of bolts unlocking filled the echoing room and the thick metal door swung open.
Light streamed in the room from the harsh lightbulb hanging by the door, making Peter screw his eyes shut.
Tony used the light to check the kid over. He didn’t look awful, all things considered. He had a dried stream of blood down the side of his face, source hidden in his hairline and a sheen of sweat across his forehead. He knew the kids pale demeanour wasn’t from the rough treatment of the kidnapping, but his overload. He couldn’t tell if it was comforting or not. He always recovered from these episodes after twelve hours, and he could deal with that. He’d take anything that wasn’t life threatening right now.
“Okay, I’m bored.” An average looking man announced from the open door, features shadowed by the light flooding from behind, but Tony could see he was muscular, bald and dressed in black. Tony named his Douchebag.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Oh please Stark. You of all people shouldn’t be so predictable. Who are you. What do you want with me! ” The man mocked, making Tony see red.
Douchebag rolled his eyes, stalking over to Peter who was curled up the best he could manage with the chains.
It gave Tony some primal flare, seeing his kid so small and vulnerable. “Get away from him.”
The man grinned and crouched beside Peter, grabbing his chin in his dirty hands and forcing his head up.
Peter clenched his face, glaring at the man.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“You probably gave him a concussion!”
“Maybe, but you’re fine.”
All the loud noises made Peter flinch, trying to catch a sob that escaped.
“Aw, Stark. Your sons crying.”
“Leave him out of this. He’s just my intern.” Tony insisted, knowing the truth felt more like a lie to him. Peter wasn’t just an intern to him, he was so much more.
“I thought Stark men were made of iron.”
“Your problem is clearly with me, unless you like hurting kids. Take whatever this is about out on me.”
Douchebag smiled, finally moving away from Peter. “What’s his name?”
Tony laughed. “None of your business.”
The man let out an unnerving chuckle, sliding out a dark object from his pocket. “I think it is.”
the blood ran from Tony’s face, seeing the gun twirl around the psycho’s fingers.
“Just let him go. You want money? I can get you however much you want.”
“I want a name.” He said plainly, clicking the safety latch off.
“Henry. His names Henry.”
“One more fake name and a bullet goes through his knee.” The man promised, pointing the gun at Peter making Tony pitch forward.
“Peter! H-his names Peter.”
“I know. Peter Parker, fifteen, attends Midtown school. Intern of Tony Stark.”
“You bastard. You knew all along.”
“Of course I did, I don’t kidnap people without all the information. I just wanted to see how far you’d go to protect him.”
“He’s a child! Anyone would protect a child!”
Peter shuddered trying to cup his ears with his hands.
Tony instantly felt guilty for shouting, shrinking in a little.
“Aw, does the little darling not like shouting?” Douchebag laughed, tearing Peter’s hands away. “Huh? You don’t like big noises you fucking baby?!”
Peter tried to pull away from the man, making himself as small as he could.
“Stop it! Please. He has sensitive hearing.” Tony pleaded, hoping the man had an ounce of dignity.
“Well, why don’t we fix that?”
Tony’s eyes widened in fear, finally making eye contact with the kid.
“I can make the loud noises go away, Petey-pie. How does that sound?”
Before Tony could even ask what he was planning the man had brought the gun to Peter’s left ear and fired, making the kid scream in pain.
“No!” Tony yelled, but he was helpless, chained mere yards away from his kid.
Before Peter could even recover, the man rounded the gun to the other side and firing again, eliciting a deafening sound in the room.
Tony was screaming, shouting profanities at the man, pulling harshly at the cuffs. He felt the metal cut into the delicate skin on his wrists, the blood trickling down his hands but he didn’t care. The bastard might have permanently hurt his kid and he was beside logic.
“You arsehole! I’m going to fucking kill you! You better hope I don’t find you because I’m gonna break every bone on your body you fucking psychopath!”
His yells were thwarted when Peters cries stopped, the kids body slumping limp against the wall.
“Peter!”
“Aw the little baby passed out. Well, at least he won’t have a problem with noise anymore.” The man laughed. Laughed .
“You better fucking kill me or I’m sure as hell gonna take my sweet time killing you. Maybe I’ll find your family and fucking deafen them you sick fuck!”
“I hope you don’t speak to your dead mother with that tongue. I should get you some soap.”
Before Tony could shout again, the mans eyes widened and he fell face first onto the floor in front of him. Tony couldn’t help the satisfaction, hearing the assholes nose break.
His attention quickly turned to Rhodey though. Stood in his suit, arm raised.
“Tony!” Rhodey breathed in relief, blasting his arms free of the chains.
“Please tell me you shot him.”
“Tranqed. You know I don’t kill if I don’t have to.” War machine said, helping Tony to his feet before running to Peter.
“Get the cuffs off.” Tony demanded, scooping the kid into his arms.
Rhodey did as Tony instructed, freeing Peter from the bindings.
“What happened? Is he hurt?”
Tony shook his head, losing some tears. “The bastard fired next to his ears. He was having an overload.”
“Shit, Tones. We should get him to Cho.”
Tony nodded, brushing the matted hair from Peters forehead.
Two hours later, Tony was sat in the waiting room, head bandaged as he waited for Peter’s verdict.
Helen appeared not long later with a chart.
“Is he awake?”
“We kept him out, we didn’t want him waking up and panicking. He’ll come to in the next few hours when the anaesthetic works off.”
“And?”
“His ear drums are completely ruptured. He’s deaf, Tony.”