Chapter Text
Peter was a good kid, and Tony didn't think that just because he was his kid. Anyone could say that their kid was good, but it didn't mean they could mean it. But Tony could.
His kid was really just the definition of a good kid. He ate his vegetables, did his homework, respected other people, and listened when he was asked to do something.
So when he asked to go on a summer trip with his best friend, Harley, Tony couldn't really say no. Peter had never given him a reason not to let him go, and it would be harsh of him to punish him after being a good kid for eighteen years of his life.
Again. Big emphasis on the good kid. But after eighteen years of good choices and honesty...there was bound to eventually be a lie told or a mistake made.
But this mistake left Tony wishing he raised a kid who made a bunch of little mistakes instead of this one big one.
He'd be a bad kid, but he'd be a safe kid. That was all that really mattered.
They had wanted to celebrate their high school graduation and live a little before college, and Tony couldn't blame them. Tony had done enough of his own crazy shit by eighteen without even asking permission.
Tony talked it over with his husband, and Steve agreed. Despite the fact that it would be Peter's first trip out of the country, Harley insisted his family would be there with them. His aunt would pick them up from the airport, drive them to her house, and take them exploring. It sounded like a fair deal to them.
Peter was a good kid, so they believed it all. They had no reason to think Peter wouldn't suddenly start lying to them, especially about something like this.
But no kid...not even Peter...no matter how good they were -- they weren't perfect.
Of course, Tony hadn't known that. He always thought Peter would be the definition of a perfect angel. Why would it suddenly change after eighteen years?
So when Peter called Tony, though his call was a few hours late, Tony hurried to his husband with a smile so they could talk to their son together.
Tony stopped next to Steve, who was making their lunch, before answering the phone. "Hey, Pete! You're on speaker!"
"Hey, Dad. Hey, Pops," Peter replied. Hearing his voice made Tony's smile deepen, even if it had only been a few hours since they'd heard it.
"How's Paris?" Tony asked, excited to hear how Peter liked the new city. It was nothing like New York.
"It's good," he said, sounding distracted. Tony and Steve exchanged a suspicious look. "It's pretty."
"We expected you to call a few hours ago. I thought your plane landed at eleven am our time." Tony checked his watch, seeing that it was almost three pm. That meant it was close to nine at night in Paris.
"Yeah, sorry...took some time to get to the house."
Something was off. Tony just wasn't sure what.
"Hey, bud," Steve said, probably thinking the same thing. "Can you thank Harley's aunt for us? It was nice of her to take time out of her day to pick you up."
"Uh...about that…"
Tony tensed. "Peter…"
"She'll get here soon! Promise!" Peter said quickly. "She's out of town for another week."
Tony squeezed his hand into a fist. "Another week? Peter Benjamin, you told us there would be an adult there from the moment you stepped off of that plane."
Peter groaned. "Because I knew you wouldn't let me go otherwise, Dad!"
"We have rules for a reason, Peter," Steve said sternly. "They're to keep you safe."
"We're fine, Pops. We're old enough to know not to go into white vans no matter how much candy they promise us." Tony could practically hear his eyes roll.
"That's not the point, son. The world is a dangerous place, no matter how smart you are."
"We're fine," Peter said again. "We just wanted to hang out without parents breathing down our backs. We're adults now. We're gonna be going to college in the fall. Can't we have some freedom? Some trust?"
Tony and Steve trusted Peter and Harley. It was the rest of the world they didn't trust.
"You shouldn't have lied," Tony said instead. "Traveling is dangerous and who knows what could happen when you're in a completely different country than us. It's scary for us."
Peter was silent for a long moment before he said suddenly, "There's someone here."
Tony frowned along with Steve. "Is Harley's aunt home early? I thought you said it'd be at least a week."
Peter's voice was louder now. It was like he hadn't heard Tony. "Oh, my God. They've got Harley."
Tony felt a shiver run through his body. Hearing his son say that made him feel sick. Joking about something like that when they were separated by thousands of miles and an ocean wasn't funny. "Peter, cut that shit out. That's not funny."
Peter's response was a quick intake of breath followed by a little whimper. Steve grabbed Tony's wrist. This wasn't a game.
"Peter," Tony practically barked.
"Dad," Peter gasped. "Dad! They took him! They-- they dragged him out!"
Tony felt sick. He was going to be sick. His son was in danger. He had just watched his best friend get dragged away, and he knew he would be next. And Tony was helpless to save him.
Steve took over, the retired military captain coming out in him. "Peter-- you've got to listen to me."
"Papa," Peter sobbed. "They've got Harley--."
"I know, son," Steve cut in with a stern voice. Tony covered his mouth so Peter wouldn't hear his own cries. " But you need to focus. Can you do that? Can you answer my questions?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Good boy." Steve waited a beat. "Did you meet anyone on the airplane?"
"No," Peter's reply was immediate.
"How about the airport?" Steve asked, and Tony wondered how the hell he was holding himself together.
"No! Wait-- yes. Garret!" Peter's voice was thick with tears and Tony wished he could hold his baby and comfort him.
"Garret!? Garret who?"
Steve patted his arm to get his attention and Tony looked up to him. He looked determined and focused, not at all like Tony. "I need this recorded."
Part of Tony's mind wondered if Steve thought this would be the last time they heard their son's voice. But Tony refused to think too long about that.
His voice was shaking as he called to the AI he had installed throughout their house. "JARVIS, I need you to track and record this phone call with Peter."
"Of course, sir."
"Peter, I need you to answer me, bud. Garret who?" Steve pressed as their son continued to cry over the other end.
"I-- I don't know his last name or who he was."
Steve grabbed Tony and yanked him in close, holding him tight. Tony wasn't sure if he was comforting Tony or he needed it himself. It was probably both. "Did he know where you were staying?"
"He-- took a cab with us," Peter said, making Tony want to scream.
Harley's aunt should have been there to pick them up. Those boys shouldn't have been so stupid!
"Pops-- they're coming-- they're coming," he whimpered. Tony hid his face in Steve's shirt. "I'm scared."
"I know you are. But stay focused, Peter. You've got to hold it together." Tony wanted to slap his husband, though he settled on just pulling away. Their son was panicking, rightfully so, how was he supposed to hold it together? He needed comfort.
Steve ignored the look Tony was giving him and asked, "How many people are there? Be precise."
"Uh-- three, maybe four...I don't know." Peter sounded like he was trying so hard to hold himself together for Steve.
"Where are you?"
"I'm in the bathroom."
Steve's order was immediate. Tony wondered if he slipped into military mode fully and forgot he was speaking to his son. "Go to the closest bedroom. Hide under the bed. Tell me when you're there."
"Uh huh," Peter said with a little sniffle before there was rustling.
Tony could tell by his heavy breaking that he was holding the phone to his ear still, so he praised him while he was hiding. "You're doing so good, bambino. It's gonna be okay. I promise. You're so good. Just listen to Papa."
"I--I'm sorry, Daddy," he started, his voice breaking again.
"No, it's--."
Steve shook his head firmly, not letting him finish. "Are you there yet?"
"No--."
"Focus, Peter. Hide."
They could hear him shut a door, and there was more rustling on the other end. Tony wanted to scream at Steve, but there was no time. Why wouldn't he just let him comfort their son?
"Okay," Peter said in a hushed voice. "I'm here."
"Good...this next part is very important." Steve took a deep breath and Tony watched the emotions break across his face even with his eyes shut. "They're going to take you."
Peter let out a disgruntled whine, and Tony felt his heart leap into his throat. He knew there wasn't anything they could do from here to stop those men, but to hear Steve admit it to Peter was another thing.
Weren't they supposed to be calming him down?
"Papa, I don't want to go."
"Do you trust me?" He asked, instead of comforting him like he needed.
"Yes," Peter answered without hesitation and without doubt.
"They're going to take you. I'm not there. I can't stop them. But I will do everything in my power to bring you home."
Peter made a strangled sound of panic, and Tony's heart continued to break. This was the hardest conversation he's ever been apart of.
"Peter, you have to focus, sweetheart," Steve said, cutting off his whimper. "You'll have five, maybe ten seconds. Very important seconds. Put the phone on the floor. Concentrate and shout out everything you see about them-- hair color, eye color, tall, short, scars. Anything you see. Do you understand?"
The only sound that Peter made was a little cry he tried to muffle. They heard floorboards creak and Peter's breathing hitched
"Do you understand, Peter?" Steve pressed.
"Uh huh," Peter said, sounding more terrified than he had ever sounded his entire life. No parent should ever have to hear their baby sound so scared.
"Just focus," Steve said, his voice softening. "Concentrate and just tell us what you see."
"We're right here, baby," Tony added so Peter could hear his voice too.
They heard the door to Peter's chosen bedroom slam open and the feet got louder. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt like an entirety.
The feet moved around Peter and then they stopped. A voice started speaking, though it was in a language that Tony didn't understand.
"Put the phone closer so I can hear," Steve said, and Tony could only imagine Peter pulling the cell phone away from his ear, wanting his dads as close as he could keep them.
After a long second, the foreign voices sounded less muffled from the other end of the phone. Tony prayed that Steve or JARVIS could translate what they were saying.
Then the footsteps seemed to walk away.
Peter's voice was close again and hopeful. "They're leaving."
Tony knew Peter believed it, but Steve didn't relax. It was too good to be true.
Still, Peter couldn't see how tense Steve still was. "I think they're go--." He cut himself off with a blood curdling scream. One that Tony had never heard come from his mouth.
Tony hated hearing it. It was like someone grabbed his heart with fingers made of knives and squeezed it like a stress ball.
Peter let out another scream as they heard him put up a fight on the other end. Then he started to yell. "Beard! Six feet! Tattoos! Right arm!"
Then his screaming went muffled like someone was covering his mouth. Tony hated the mental image it gave him, but at least he knew Peter was still alive. Because when he suddenly stopped making any sounds the next second, he had no idea.
The room went silent for a long moment and Tony just stared at the phone. He was too numb to do anything. Had that really just happened? He didn't want to believe it.
Steve wasn't speaking either, though he was still holding Tony close. He waited for there to be a sound on the other end, as if someone was picking up the cell phone.
Steve lifted the phone to his mouth, and when he spoke, he used his no nonsense Captain's voice. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But I can tell you what I do have. I have skills-- a very particular set of skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you."
Tony found himself growing scared of Steve and he wasn't even on the receiving end of the warning.
"If you let my son and his friend go, this will be the end of it. I won't look for you. I won't pursue you." Steve's voice grew darker, if that was even possible. "But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you."
Tony held his breath as they waited, wondering if they'd even get a response. When they did, Tony was surprised to hear the words in English albeit with a thick accent. "Good luck."
Then the line went dead.