Chapter Text
After the explosion, everything went blurry and numb. Every noise around Tony was a piercing squeak or static as his body was overwhelmed with pain. Hot, sticky liquid flooded over his chest as he faded in a out of consciousness.
PAIN
PAIN
PAIN
That’s all there was, only pain. Tony gasped desperately for air to ease himself, hoping to fall into the darkness of unconsciousness permanently, as it was the only aspect of comfort he’d endured since the bomb. He fell into it, praying it would only drag him deeper and deeper away.
Eventually, his senses slowly awoke within him; he was unaware of how long he’d been out. His body still ached, crying with discomfort and agony. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” A soft, higher pitched voice soothed. Tony felt a small, warm pressure lightly go up and down his arm. “You’re okay, just breathe, Mr. Stark.” Tony could hear the deep breathing pattern of the person next to him, his body began to mirror it, and he suddenly forced his eyes open, causing the other to jump back with shock.
Tony swallowed painfully, pulling raspy breathes through his injured chest; his eyes darted around the room, hoping to cling to some sort of familiarity, but there was none. He tried to sit up, but a harsh weight tugged on his chest. “I-I wouldn’t do that.” The voice from before warned. Tony noticed wires hooked up to an odd box over to his right were lead under the dressings across his chest. He frantically ripped the bandages to find they were also hooked to HIM, within a metal-type circular object lodged within him.
Tony turned angrily his head to his left to meet the gaze of the voice of the person who’d done this to him. His pupils widened with shock to see a young boy with a thin, boney structure and a mess of brown curls atop his head staring back at him. “What did you do to me?” Tony asked, coldness dripping from his tone, his face blank of emotion. The boy fiddled with his fingers; they were stained red with blood.
“I saved you.” He squeaked quietly.
“Saved me?” Tony questioned with disbelief. “You call turning me into one of your second-grade science projects SAVING ME?” Tony exclaimed; The boy flinched at the elevated volume.
“The bomb,” the child started explaining, “when it exploded, it left shrapnel in you. I-If I didn’t t-take most of i-it out, y-you would’ve d-died, sir.” He stuttered nervously.
“Took it out?” Tony asked, his mind not fully wrapping itself around the situation. The little boy quickly ran over to a nearby desk and brought over a sealed vile, handing to gently to Tony. The man wordlessly took it and examined its contents; there were indeed a few small fragments of shrapnel clacking around as he lightly shook the glass. He brought his gaze back to the child, “You did this? You took it out…of me?” He asked, truly puzzled.
“Y-Yes, sir.” The kid answered, still appearing very frightened.
“How old are you?” Tony asked, his face scrunching with frustration; he didn’t like not understanding things.
“10, sir. M-My name is Peter, Peter P-Parker.” Peter explained, his heart beating fast within his chest.
“You expect me to believe a 10-year-old performed proper open-heart surgery? In a cave?” Tony asked.
“They gave me all the materials, and I…I’m kind of a-a certified genius…? Th-That’s actually why I-I’m here, kind of.” Peter nervously laughed, but it quickly formed to a frown, his eyes went into a blank stare, glossy with tears.
“Kid?” Tony asked, trying to grab the young one’s attention. Peter head quickly snapped up, pushing down whatever memories he was re-living.
“I-It’s a magnet, connected to a car battery.” He continued to explain. “I couldn’t get a-all of the shrapnel out, so it’s k-keeping it from entering your heart.” Tony’s breath quickened. He looked down on the gadget with him, he zipped up his jacket, concealing it. Peter went over to the table to Tony’s right, carefully picked up the battery, and handed it to him; with the object in closer reach, Tony was now able to sit up.
He glanced around their cell and noticed a camera, mounted with a good view, high on the wall. Before he could ask more, someone began to bang loudly against the door and scream in a foreign language Tony didn’t know. “Stand up.” Peter quickly ordered; in a normal situation, Tony would’ve laughed at being given orders from a child, but the overwhelming fear in Peter’s eyes made him swallow his pride and stand. Peter then put his hands upon his head, a sign of surrender, and gestured for Tony to do the same. Once he did, a gruff, dangerous looking man entered with an entourage of guards, all bearing Stark guns.
“How’d they get my guns?” Tony asked towards the boy, but Peter just shushed him, not breaking eye contact with their new company. The large goon cleared his throat.
“आपका स्वागत है, टोनी स्टार्क। अमेरिका के इतिहास में सबसे प्रसिद्ध नकाबपोश हत्यारा.” He said with a joyful expression on his face. It faded to annoyance as Tony clearly didn’t understand. He then gave a cold, deadly stare to Peter.
The child nervously cleared his throat. “H-He said, ‘Welcome, Tony Stark. The most famous masked murderer in the history of America’.”
“मैं सम्मानित महसूस कर रहा हूं.”
“He’s honored.” Peter continued; Tony noted how the kid’s small form trembled.
“मैं चाहता हूं कि आप मिसाइल का निर्माण करें.”
“He wants you to build the miss—”
“आपके द्वारा प्रदर्शित जेरिको मिसाइल.”
“T-The Jericho missel you demonstrated.” Peter’s chest tightened as the large man approached him, Tony watched as the goon shoved a piece of paper in the child’s face.
“यह वाला.” He stated strongly. Peter slowly removed one shaky hand from his head and took the paper, showing the photo to Tony.
“This one.” Peter translated. Tony swallowed painfully, recognizing the weapon; he couldn’t fathom the mass destruction this crew could deal with such a power.
“I refuse.” Tony stated firmly. His breath hitched when the leader harshly gripped Peter by the throat; the boy grasped at the dirty, calloused hand, helplessly wriggling for air as he was held a foot off the ground. Before Tony could make any attempt to stop the torture, his face was forcefully shoved repeatedly into a container of water.