Chapter Text
Prologue
Tony pressed the towel against the palm of Peter’s hand, watching red seep into the fabric as his thoughts ran wild, going through every interaction, every conversation, every sign that he should have seen and blatantly dismissed.
Peter flinching away from his uncle, Peter screaming in the infirmary while his uncle held his wrists in a tight grip, Peter huddling in corners, eyes hazy and movements sluggish from drugs.
“I tried to …,” Peter had whispered. “You didn’t hear. And he’s always there. Always listening.”
Tony’s chest clenched tight. They’d dismissed Peter’s behavior as a remnant from whatever the Alliance had done to him at that academy, had believed the excuses they were given, the sad story they’d been told. And the whole time, the man who had claimed to be Peter’s uncle had had the kid under his thumb.
With the help of Tony’s crew.
“My uncle’s dead,” Peter had said into the silence of Tony’s bunk and it changed everything.
Peter was looking down at their hands, Tony’s pressing the towel against the cuts in the kid’s palm and he looked incredibly young and incredibly tired. It was unfair. Core-bred or not, Peter was just a kid, only sixteen. Whatever the Alliance had done to him, it would possibly stay with him forever.
Tony nodded to himself and reached up one hand to press it against the side of Peter’s head, his thumb brushing the kid’s temple.
The kid didn’t flinch.
Tony asked, “Who is he?”
“Dr. Beck,” Peter replied. His dark eyes met Tony’s, slightly unfocused but he was clearly fighting the effects of whatever drug Parker … Beck had given him. “From the academy.”
“He works for them? For the people who hurt you?”
“He put me in the chair.”
Tony frowned in confusion. “What chair?”
“The chair,” Peter answered as if that made things any clearer. His eyes became unfocussed, the lids drooping slightly. “The big chair.” He shivered and Tony grabbed his blanket, pulling it around Peter’s shoulders.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll sort this out.” Tony knew that getting a clearer answer on what had been going on at the academy could wait right now and instead focused on what he should do next. Getting the situation under control was a first step. He rose and stepped to his intercom, pressing the button connecting him to Steve’s quarters. “Steve. Steve, wake up.”
Steve was a light sleeper and it only took him about a minute before he replied, “Tony?”
“Come to my bunk, now.”
There was no answer but Tony heard the hatch to Steve’s bunk open and then hurried footsteps approaching before Steve climbed the small ladder down into Tony’s quarters. He was only wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, still sleep-rumpled, his hair askew. But his blue eyes were wide-awake. “What’s going on?” He saw Peter sitting on Tony’s bed, the bloody towel around his hand and his expression darkened. “Tony?”
“We have a situation,” Tony replied, lowering his voice and stepping closer. “The kid claims Parker’s not his uncle. That he’s a guy named Beck and that he works for the academy.”
“What?” Steve asked, lowering his voice as well. “Tony, the kid is not exactly stable.”
“He seems certain enough about this,” Tony replied. “He broke out of his quarters and snuck his way over here, cut his hand with a knife to be able to think through the drugs. This isn’t a flight of fancy.”
Steve frowned, still skeptical.
“Okay, yes,” Tony admitted. “I know the kid isn’t stable, I know he’s drugged and his mind was messed with but what if it’s true? Can we afford to ignore it?”
Heaving a breath, Steve glanced towards Peter. The low lights cut shadows across his face. He seemed undecided.
Tony stepped even closer to him, lowering his voice further. “Steve, if it’s true and we do nothing-”
“I get you,” Steve replied, meeting Tony’s eyes. His expression was now determined, his posture straightening. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“There isn’t one,” Tony replied, “but I’d say we need to separate them.”
“Obviously.”
“Beck brought the kid onboard in a cryo unit, he kept him drugged up and isolated, so we’re clear on who the bad guy is. We put him under lockdown and try to get the kid sober.”
Steve bit his lip. “Beck said Peter needs medication.”
“Yes, that’s what he said,” Tony replied, raising his eyebrows. “Can we be sure it’s true?”
“We have no doctor to confirm this.”
“We have Banner.”
“Who said that he practiced medicine a long time ago,” Steve replied. “He’s rusty at best.”
“He’ll need to get less so,” Tony said. “Or do we have another medic on hand we can trust enough?”
Steve frowned, thinking. “I could reach out to Peggy, see who she can stir up.”
“You want to drag Peggy into this?” Tony asked. “I don’t think so, not as long as we’re not clearer on what the hell is going on. It’s not about my trust in her, it’s about her safety. Let’s keep this contained for now.”
Steve nodded. “Right. Okay. We get the kid sober, we lock up Beck.”
“We get to the bottom of this. Beck has one more chance to put all the cards on the table. He might have worked for them but he is clearly on the run, so I want to know why.”
“How will we know he’ll tell the truth this time?” Steve asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Tony replied. “But I want the full story now. The kid’s side, Beck’s side … and I want it backed up by evidence.”
Steve raised one eyebrow. “And how will we get that?”
Tony crossed his arms. “It’s been a while since we checked in with The Vision.”
Chapter 1
By the time Tony had made his way towards the passenger dorm, Beck was stumbling out of his and Peter’s cabin, looking around frantically. He was rubbing sleep out of his eyes, his dark hair mussed which was an unusual look for the usually impeccably dressed man. He froze when he spotted Tony.
Tony slowed his steps, falling into a casual stroll while he moved the hand holding his six shooter out of sight. “Lost something?”
Beck’s shoulders slumped and he crossed his arms. “He got into your quarters again?”
“Oh yeah, he did,” Tony answered.
Beck’s expression shifted into an apologetic wince. “I’m sorry. I’ll get him.”
Tony grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past, pinning Beck with a firm look. “Sorry to say that won’t be possible.”
Beck’s blue eyes widened in confusion. “What?” He tried to shrug Tony’s hand off. “Let go of me.”
Tony moved, forcing Beck back into his cabin and blocking the door, letting Beck see the six shooter.
Beck stared at the gun for a moment, then he met Tony’s eyes. He looked remarkably calm as he said, “Peter doesn’t know what’s going on. It’s the drugs, the way the academy messed with his mind.”
Tony tilted his head. “I find it mighty suspicious that you seem to know what this is about.”
“There aren’t that many possibilities.”
“What do you think he told me?”
“That I’m not his uncle.” Beck still looked calm, his shoulders relaxed and his hands folded in front of him.
Tony raised his brows. “Good guess.”
“Well, it is true,” Beck replied.
Tony stared at him and Beck took it as a sign to continue.
“I’m not his uncle. We’re not related. I just thought it would be less suspicious if I pretended to be.” He sat down on one of the beds. “My name’s Quentin Beck. I worked for the academy. I was responsible for keeping an eye on Peter’s vitals during the experiments.”
Tony’s fingers tightened around his six shooter, his jaw clenching in anger. “And what? You discovered that torturing kids just isn’t your thing?”
“I am aware of how shady it all sounds, Captain. I am not saying we did the right thing, but there were valid reasons for-”
“I don’t give a shit about your reasons!” Tony snapped. “You took a kid and broke him!”
“I am aware of that,” Beck replied. “I … I couldn’t stand to see what we were doing to him anymore, so I …” He swallowed. “I’m trying to save him. I know he will only remember me as being one of them, one of the bad guys. I … I just needed to get him out of there.”
Tony stared at him, trying to decipher whether he was telling the truth.
“Please,” Beck whispered. “All I wanted was to get him out and find a safe place for us.”
“What were you doing to him?”
Beck released a deep breath and swallowed. “The project was about enhancing humans.”
“Enhancing?”
“Making them healthier. Stronger. Faster. Smarter. Better able to survive on newly terraformed worlds. Better able to fight threats like the Reavers.”
Tony scoffed. “So you’re not as clueless about them as you pretended to be.”
“I know all about them that you can know, which isn’t much,” Beck replied.
“So you’re what?” Tony asked. “An Alliance scientist? A SHIELD agent?”
“The academy was founded and financed by the Alliance and secured by SHIELD but the Alliance outsourced the scientific work.”
Tony shook his head and huffed a breath. “What a mess.”
“So, what now?” Beck asked.
Tony replied, “I need you to stay in here for the foreseeable future. The door will be locked.”
“What?” Beck said. “But I just explained to you-”
“And I don’t know yet if you’re lying. All I know is that the kid is terrified of you.”
“But he needs me.”
“Sorry, doc.”
With that, Tony slid the door to the cabin closed and turned the lock.
***
Tony found Steve and Peter in the brightly lit dining area. Steve was in the kitchen niche, preparing a large bowl of foodstuff for everyone’s breakfast, while Peter stood at the big window, his forehead and his healthy hand pressed against the glass. His injury was still covered by Tony’s towel. Tony had brought the first aid kit to take care of that.
Serenity was moving forward at a steady pace, the auto-pilot steering them through a rather unpopulated area of the rim as they made their way to The Vision’s location.
Tony set the kit down on the large dining table and approached Steve, watching Peter standing completely still, staring into space. “What is he doing?” he asked softly.
Steve shrugged, heaping foodstuff into a smaller bowl and handing it to Tony. “He’s quiet. That’s good at least.”
“Good morning.”
They turned to see Banner enter the dining area, a smile on his face. He had foregone his usual dark suit for a blue sweatshirt and cargo pants, looking more like someone belonging to the crew with every day he stayed with them. Having come aboard as a passenger at the same time as Beck, Tony had assumed that Banner would leave them again soon, but the man had given no sign of intending to do so and as long as he paid his fare, Tony wasn’t overly bothered. He was friendly and quiet, Tony’s favorite kind of passenger, and he was useful as a medic, even when it had been a while since he’d actively practiced medicine.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” Tony said and nodded towards the table and the first aid kit. “We need a doctor.”
“Me?” Banner asked, confused. “I haven’t practiced medicine in years.”
“So you keep saying. It’s just a few cuts on the kid’s hand, nothing dramatic. Just want a doctor to have a look at them,” Tony replied and turned towards Peter. “Hey, kid. Come over here for a second.”
Peter didn’t react.
Banner was frowning. “Surely, Dr. Parker-”
“Not an option,” Tony replied. “Confined to his quarters for the foreseeable future.”
“Confined?” Clint asked, joining them with Nat in tow and heading directly towards Steve for his breakfast. “Did we miss something?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Tony replied and took a step in Peter’s direction. “Kid, just for a moment to get those cuts checked out.”
Peter kept staring outside.
Tony put a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention.
Peter yelped and jerked away, crowding himself into the nearest corner and sliding down to sit on the floor, his knees drawn tight to his chest. “No, no, no,” he said. “No medicine.”
Tony crouched down to look into his eyes. “No medicine, promise. Just the professor looking at your hand and putting a bandage on it. Won’t hurt a bit.”
Peter stared at him, his brows drawn together skeptically. “It always hurts,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “And the needles and the chair.” He sobbed … then his face sobered abruptly, his head tilting and then turning to look out the window, his expression weirdly blank.
It was eerie. A knot formed in Tony’s stomach, but he forced it away. Peter was a confused, traumatized kid, he was bound to act a little weird.
Clint asked, “Does anybody mind explaining what is going on?”
Tony decided to leave Peter be for the moment and rose to his feet, noticing that Shuri and Pepper had also arrived and taken a seat at the table. He exchanged a look with Steve who crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, giving Tony a nod.
“Okay,” Tony said. “Listen up because this is important. The doctor is confined to his quarters effective immediately and until you hear otherwise. He is not to leave and he is especially not to be anywhere near the kid.” Looking into surprised and confused expressions, he explained, “His name is not Ben Parker, it’s actually Quentin Beck. And he is not the kid’s uncle. Until we have figured out who exactly he is and whether he is actually trying to help the kid, he is considered a prisoner.”
“What?” Clint asked. “How-”
“The kid told me.”
Nat frowned. “Tony, the kid is not exactly-”
“Beck confirmed it.”
Silence descended for a long moment, then Pepper said, “You think he kidnapped Peter.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Tony replied. “His story seems genuine, at least partly. He claims that he worked for the academy and couldn’t see the kid suffer anymore, so he broke him out. That he claimed to be his uncle because it would be less suspicious. That might be true … or not. We have no way to confirm with the kid the way he is.”
They all looked towards Peter, who was still huddled into the corner and staring out the window.
“So,” Nat said, “you have a plan.”
“Part of it. I had Steve take course to see The Vision.”
Shuri’s face lit up, as Tony had expected it to. “We’re seeing Vis and Wanda?”
Banner frowned in confusion. “Sorry, The Vision?”
“Old friend of ours,” Tony replied.
“You’re going to like him,” Shuri said. “And Wanda. She’s amazing.”
“The main reason we’re going,” Steve cautioned her, “is to check out Beck’s story. Vis has got access to the Cortex.”
Banner said, “Many people do. We have access right here on the ship.”
“No,” Tony replied. “Not like this.”
“Vis lives on a Cortex relay station,” Nat explained. “He practically lives within the Cortex. If you need any kind of information that’s been relayed through the Cortex, he’s got it. Including personal files and SHIELD communication.”
Banner stared at her. “Is that legal?”
Clint laughed. “If you have to ask, it isn’t.”
Nat smiled. “Vis is on the weird side but he’s got all the answers.”
Peter got up abruptly, pulling everyone’s attention towards him again, his hand pressed against the window, his breath fogging up the glass.
Clint asked, “What’s going on with him?”
Tony frowned. “Kid? What are you up to?”
For a moment, he thought Peter would ignore him again, but then he asked softly, “Don’t you hear?”
“Hear what?” Tony asked, stepping a little closer.
“Death is coming.”
The proximity alert went off.
Steve hurried out of the room, heading for the bridge, Clint close on his heels. Tony looked at Banner. “Can you …” He nodded towards Peter. Banner nodded and Tony went after Steve, Nat and Shuri on his heels. By the time they reached the bridge, Steve had switched the alarm off and was staring out the front window. Clint was standing behind him, just as transfixed by what he saw as Steve was.
Tony followed their gazes.
A small distance away, a ship was floating in space, dark and lifeless, spinning slowly. Tony shuddered when a dead body floated by, a man by the looks of it, though it was hard to tell with space deaths.
“Oh no,” Shuri whispered.
“Death is coming,” the kid had said.
How had he known?
Tony cleared his throat. “Anybody home?”
Steve shook his head. “Been hailing her, but if whoever's there is as healthy as the guy we just saw, I can't imagine anyone's going to be picking up.”
“Bring us in a little closer.”
“I’ll get you close enough to ring the doorbell,” Steve confirmed.
“What happened?” Banner asked from behind them and Tony turned to see that Peter was huddled into the corner behind the co-pilot’s seat, Banner hovering nearby. Pepper was standing in the door, watching the lifeless ship with wide eyes. Banner stepped closer to the window to be able to see the ship better. “What is it?”
Peter was the one who answered, “Ghosts.”
Clint crossed his arms. “He is seriously starting to creep me out.”
Tony ignored him. “So, what do we figure? Transport ship?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully and Shuri stepped closer, brushing up against Tony’s side in the cramped room and leaning into him a little. He put an arm around her shoulders in comfort.
Steve said, “Converted cargo hauler, maybe a short-range scow.”
Shuri grimaced. “You can see that she doesn't want to be parked like that. The port thrust's gone, that's what's making her spin the way she is.”
Banner frowned. “A short range vessel, this far out in space?”
“Retrofitted to carry passengers,” Steve replied.
Nat nodded. “Travelers pick them up cheap at government auctions. A few modifications and they serve well enough for a one-way push to the outer planets.”
Banner’s eyes widened in understanding. “Settlers.”
Clint cleared his throat. “You can cram fifteen, maybe twenty families on a boat that size, if you pack them in tight enough.”
Pepper asked, “Families?”
Tony thought it was likely. His chest tightened at the thought. “So what happened to them? Technical failure?”
Clint hummed. “These journeys are tough, not everyone can take it. Maybe one of them ticked out, killed everyone on board.”
Nat raised an eyebrow at him. “You're a very ‘up’ person.”
“What?” Clint asked. “It happens.”
“Shouldn't we report this?” Banner asked.
Tony scoffed. “To who? Alliance? Right. They're going to run out here lickety-split and make sure these taxpayers are okay.”
Nat explained, “Wrecks like this happen. Alliance doesn’t care unless they happen across one on their patrols. They won’t go out of their way to investigate, though.”
Banner frowned. “Then we will have to.”
Clint leaned against Steve’s seat. “If there's folks on board in need of help, why aren’t they beaming a distress call?”
Nat nodded. “It's true, there's no beacon.”
“Which means it's likely no one's looking to find her.”
Banner sounded exasperated as he replied, “All the more reason for us to do the right thing.”
“Right,” Tony said. “We'll check it out. See if there are survivors. If not, then no one's going to mind if we take a look around, see if there's not something of value they might have left behind.”
Banner frowned in disapproval.
“Hey, don’t judge,” Tony replied. “I’ve got plenty of mouths to feed.”
Peter hummed a short tune that sounded a little like a song the Independence soldiers used to sing and then said, “They’ve got a horrible story to tell.”