#thewritingcaptain

[thewritingcaptain]

Bloody Things and Broken Wings (Chapter 9)

“We’ll go back to the lakehouse when Peter is ready,” Tony answers, after a moment of silence. Morgan frowns. “When will that be?” “When he’s ready,” Tony repeats. “Depending on how he feels, it’ll take time. You can’t rush him, Morgan.” Her little face scrunches as she considers this, and she tilts her head back to look up at Peter, seated at her side. “When do you think you’ll be ready to go home with us, Petey?”

The when, as it turns it, comes sooner than he had intended. 

Pepper’s meetings are done, so there’s no reason, now, for them to remain in the city. Extensive as Peter’s injuries were, he hadn’t imagined that the boy would want to be moved so soon, and that, deal or no deal, he’d be hesitant to leave the city at all. 

And while getting him to agree had been hell, getting him to follow through… not so much. 

Bright and early the next morning, he goes to check on Peter, hoping that Morgan’s conspicious quiet didn’t mean that she’d gone to bother the vigilante as soon as she’d opened her eyes, but entirely suspicious that she had. He hasn’t seen or heard from Peter, or Jarvis, regarding him, this morning, but then again, he’s barely been up long enough to make his cup of coffee. But also… yeah, that’s been enough time for him to grow suspicious at not hearing anything. 

And rightfully so, he discovers as he knocks lightly on Peter’s door and then cracks it open to find both Peter and Morgan wide awake and apparently coloring together on Peter’s bed. 

Both of them look up when he enters, and oddly, only the one who’s not his biological kid is the one that looks immediately abashed. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark, she came in and I was awake, and I tried to get her to go back to sleep but she didn’t want to and I thought I could keep her out of your hair for a while-”

“Peter,” Tony interrupts gently, holding up a hand. The boy falls silent immediately, but Tony just offers him a small smile. “It’s fine. I’m more concerned about her waking you up than anything.” 

Morgan has gone back to her picture, but she looks up, looking as offended as a six year old can at the accusation. “He was awake when I came in, daddy. I just came to keep him company.” 

“So I hear. And you knew that before you came in, I suppose?”

“Yes. I asked Jarvis,” she answers, matter of factly, then goes back to her picture. 

Tony sighs, but he can’t argue with that answer. He could ask Jarvis to be sure, but it’s not going to make a difference either way, and they’ve already established at this point that Peter’s bad enough at lying that he would probably be able to tell if he was covering for her. 

He walks over and scoops Morgan up, setting her on his lap. “Peter’s not here just to play with you, little miss. Just remember that.”

“But he likes it!” Morgan protests, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t mind, Mr. Stark, really,” Peter adds helpfully. 

“See!” Morgan squirms in his lap. “Can we go back to coloring now?”

Tony shakes his head, exasperated. He can already see that the two of them are going to be quite a pair. He just doesn’t know if he’s ready for it or not. “I suppose you could. But don’t you want to help me make breakfast?”

“Or… we could… finish our pictures and help you after?” Morgan suggests, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Tony glances at Peter, but the teen also seems to be waiting on his answer. He sighs. “I suppose so. You’ve only got a few minutes, though, understand? You have to eat, and so does Peter, so he can get better.”

She wriggles excitedly and climbs off his lap. “Okay!” she agrees easily. 

He stands, looking at them both coloring happily, and just shakes his head again before heading for the door. 

As promised, they both appear in the doorway to the kitchen several minutes later, with a sleepy Pepper not far behind. Tony hands his wife a cup of coffee as she settles at the counter, and takes the picture that Morgan offers him as she climbs up on the stool beside her mother. Peter is a little behind both of them, not entirely steady on the crutches Bruce had insisted he use after he reset and checked all of his injuries, but making his way there slowly but surely. He hadn’t used them last night, and it had taken both Tony and Pepper to get him back to bed. Though neither of them had said anything, Peter clearly doesn’t like to be a bother in any form, and has apparently decided to use them, whether to save them the trouble or himself the pain. Tony doesn’t really mind the reason so long as he complies. 

Tony pins the picture to the fridge, then turns back to them, brandishing a plastic spatula. “Well, you’re all a bit late to help, but thankfully, the food is still warm, and I’ll be nice and let you help me eat it.” He winks at them, earning a playful eye roll from Pepper, a giggle from Morgan, and a small, unsure smile from Peter. It feels like a triumph. 

He returns to the stove to make up their plates, humming a little as he fills them and passes them out. He’s just settling down next to Pepper when the little girl looks at her parents and asks, “When are we going home?”

A simple question, but one that makes everyone else at the table freeze. Tony looks at Peter immediately, unable to help it, then to Pepper, then flicks back to Peter before settling on Morgan to address her. The teen is silent, and is watching him when he looks at him, clearly curious about the answer himself. “We’ll go back to the lakehouse when Peter is ready,” Tony answers, after a moment of silence. 

Morgan frowns. “When will that be?”

“When he’s ready,” Tony repeats. “Depending on how he feels, it’ll take time. You can’t rush him, Morgan.”

Her little face scrunches as she considers this, and she tilts her head back to look up at Peter, seated at her side. “When do you think you’ll be ready to go home with us, Petey?”

“Morgan,” Pepper scolds, but Peter waves it off.

“It’s alright, Miss Potts. Really. Honestly, after our talk last night, I’d assumed we’d be leaving today.” Peter shrugs, picking at his food with his good arm. 

“And I told you last night that we could leave when you were ready,” Tony says. And he did. He’d told Peter when he asked that they could go when Peter was ready, sure that he was comfortable enough both with them and healed enough that the ride wouldn’t cause him immense pain, and Peter had accepted that answer before allowing Tony and Pepper to help him back to bed, as he’d tried to get up soon after and found the pain in his leg to be close to too much again from it’s recent reset. 

Peter holds up a hand in mock-surrender. “I know, and I appreciate that, but… what’s the point in waiting? Your work in the city is done, and I can’t do anything no matter where I am. We may as well all be as comfortable as we can, and you guys are most comfortable out there.” 

Morgan bounces on her stool. “So we can go home?”

Tony and Pepper exchange another look, and they both shrug. “Sure,” Tony says. “We can go home today.” 

“Yay!” Morgan bounces happily. “You’ll love it out there, Petey. It’s so pretty and quiet.” She shoves a bite of food in her mouth. “It’s so loud in the city, but not there. And we have a lake, too! We could go swimming!”

“Not right now, he can’t,” Tony interrupts. “And you won’t be doing anything until we can get there, little miss, which means you better stop flapping away and eat your food. The sooner we’re all done here, the sooner we can get on the road.”

Morgan makes a face at him, animated as always, but goes quiet and starts digging into her food. While the city is always exciting to her, for a few days, her home was the lakehouse, pure and simple. She didn’t have near the freedom in the city or the affinity for it that her parents had, and it showed, every time they were there for more than a few days. That might change when she gets a little older -- just like it had for Tony -- but for now, her preference was clear. 

Everyone else follows her example, and the table goes quiet but for the sound of forks hitting plates and the occasional condiment bottle. The silence isn’t awkward, though; it’s comfortable. At this point, most everything is out in the open, and everyone on the same page, so there’s no reason for it not to be. 

When they start to finish up, Tony glances at Morgan. “Why don’t you go get ready, Mo?”

Picking up on what he’s trying to do immediately, Pepper pushes her plate aside and stands. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Come on. Let's go together and help each other pack.” 

“Okay!” Morgan pushes her plate away too and hops up, following her mother. A moment later, they both disappear down the hall, leaving Tony and Peter alone again. 

Peter seems to shrink back into his shell as soon as both women are gone. Tony lets out a breath and picks up the empty plates, carrying them to the sink and beginning to clean them before speaking. “Are you full? Was that enough for you?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I’m full. It was good, Mr. Stark. Thank you.”

“Tony, kid.” Tony shakes his head. “And I’m glad to hear it. If you’re sure you’re done, I’ll take your plate. But we’re going to be on the road a while, so if you want more, don’t be shy.” 

“I’m okay. Here you go.” He pushes the plate over to his side of the table and falls silent again. 

Tony takes it, washing them silently for a moment. “Are you sure you want to leave today? Morgan doesn’t really know any better, but even still, you shouldn’t let her push you if you’re not ready. We can stay as long as you’d like.”

“I know. But like I said… there’s no reason to stay here, either. We may as well.” He pauses. “I don’t want to keep you guys away from home. It’s not like there’s one here I’m itching to go back to, so…”

It’s true, Tony supposes, though he decides to skirt around that touchy subject for now and not risk Peter closing off so much again. “Right. Well, I was going to ask you… do you have a preference for how we get there? I can take you, separately, so we can make more frequent stops and you have more room to move around. If we go with Pepper and Morgan, we might get there quicker, but Morgan probably won’t leave you alone the whole time, and you won’t have much room or time to stretch or anything.” 

“Oh…” Peter sounds surprised, like he hadn’t even considered it. “Well, it doesn’t matter that much to me, either way. I’m happy with either, so long as we get there.” 

Of course he wouldn’t pick one or the other and make Tony’s life easier. He understands, but it still saddens him, to an extent. “I think I’ll take us separately,” Tony tells him. “If that’s okay with you. Then we can stop and grab you some clothes and such, too.” 

“Hm?” Peter looks up at him. “Mr. Stark-“

“Tony.”

“Tony,” Peter repeats, then shakes his head. “Thank you, but… how can I possibly accept anything else from you? I don’t need clothes. Or anything, really-“

“You need everything, because you’ve had nothing, including clothes. You quite literally need them. And it’s simple. You can accept it because I want to give it to you and because I have more money than anyone ever should in one life so there’s no reason I can’t buy you anything, Peter.”

Peter frowns, looking unconvinced. “But…”

“No buts. C’mon, kid. I just want to help here. And I can be very persuasive if I have to be. Besides, do you have another retired superhero waiting somewhere to help you? Because I don’t think you’re going to get an opportunity just like this one anywhere again.”

Peter flinches a little. “I mean, no… though I have had help before, just not consistently…”

“Not consistently enough that you were having to whore yourself out to get your basic needs met — when you were even capable of that.” Tony shakes his head. “I can’t and won’t let that happen again, Peter. Period.”

Peter crosses his arms. “Fine. Whatever. But I don’t know why you had to make it sound like I had a choice when you didn’t intend to give me one, then. Do me a favor and cut the crap next time. Save us both valuable time and breath.” 

Tony blinks. “Kid-“

“No, I’m-“ Peter stops, running his hands through his hair and looking immediately remorseful. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap. I know you just want to help, but… It’s been six years, Mr. Stark. I know I’ve made some questionable choices, but I did what I had to to survive. And as much as I appreciate your help now, you’ll have to excuse me if I have a hard time accepting your help. Especially when you keep going on about how easy it is for you to give. If it’s so easy, then where have you been for the past six years? Did you really think giving me a suit was going to help me survive better when literally almost no one who doesn’t live in your little one percent of the world bubble has everything they need to live right now?” Tony opens his mouth again, but Peter waves him off. “Spare me the apology. I’m not asking you to apologize for something you wouldn’t change. Just lay off throwing your clout around. It makes me sick.” 

Tony closes his mouth slowly. The guilt hits him like a ton of bricks in the chest, but it’s a feeling he’s used to, at least. Seeing Peter look so tired and haggard, as if the energy the outburst had taken had left him exhausted, is something else entirely. He doesn’t even sound angry anymore. Tony almost wishes he did. Anger is easier to deflect and deal with than laid-bare emotion. 

He forces himself to take a breath, think about how he should respond, but he doesn’t get the chance. Morgan comes bounding out of the hallway, a backpack already over her shoulders, and her mother in tow. “We’re ready to go!” she announces helpfully.

Tony scoops her up, both grateful and sad for the distraction ending the conversation there. But he pushes the thoughts out of his mind for a moment nonetheless. He swears the girls can smell his inner turmoil sometimes. “Are you, now? Well then. We shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer, should we?” 

“Nope!” Morgan chirrups happily. She looks at Peter, then back at her father, expectantly, seeming confused by the fact that neither of them appear to have moved. “Are you ready?”

“Peter and I are almost ready. But we’re riding separately from you two. So you can go now, and not have to wait on us.” He passes her over to Pepper, who tilts her head but seems to guess his intentions without asking, and so doesn’t. 

“You’re not coming with us? Why not?” Morgan whines, oblivious to the understanding between the adults. 

“Peter and I need to make a few pit stops, sweetheart. It’ll be easier and quicker for everyone if it’s just the two of us,” Tony tells her. He ruffles her hair. “We’ll both be back home with you before you know it.”

Morgan pouts, but nods. “Okay… I guess.” She reaches up for a hug, and Tony smiles and complies, pressing a kiss to her head before leaning back and letting Pepper take her fully. 

He kisses his wife’s head as well, running a hand down her back as he passes. “I’ll take your bags out to the car. I’ll be back in a minute, Pete,” he adds over his shoulder, in the boy’s general direction, just to make sure he realizes he’s not leaving him, especially for long. He feels like an ass for still not trusting him completely but… he’s still, well, nervous. 

He gets a quiet, “Yes, sir,” in response, which is frankly more than he expected, though not as encouraging as he’d like, either. He doesn’t allow himself too much time to dwell on it though, instead heading back to grab his girls’ things and get them loaded into the car. 

Several minutes later of loading bags, goodbyes, and assuring Pepper where Morgan can’t hear that he definitely has a plan, and knows what he’s doing, even though he most decidedly does not, and he’s on his way back into the penthouse, trying to decide how best to proceed with the conversation, or if it’s best to proceed with it at all. Maybe he should just drop the whole thing. Pretend like that conversation never happened, have someone else pick him up some basic clothes and drop them off at the lake house, and try to make the ride there as un-awkward as possible. 

But no. Maybe he shouldn’t. They’d been on the verge of real communication, after all. Not exactly what he’d wanted to hear, sure, but maybe as honest as Peter had been with him since he arrived. And that step, the vulnerability of it, had to matter more than whatever it was he would say. 

Peter is still sitting at the table when he enters the kitchen again. He’s put his head down, pillowed on his arms, his eyes closed as he rests there, clearly either not expecting to be observed or uncaring that he is. For a moment, he almost looks… peaceful. The way he should look as he sleeps -- relaxed, open, resting -- but never seems to be when Tony checks on him, plagued by constant nightmares the way he is. The sight draws him up short. 

Thankfully, he’s spared from trying to decide how to proceed by the younger man lifting his head up just then, tired, wary eyes fixing on him. “Ready to go, now?”

Tony takes a little breath. “Yeah. Are you?”

Peter just nods. It hits him how exhausted Peter looks, and just how small, young, and he has to wonder if he’s always looked like that, or if he’s just now noticed it. Was it their talk that drained him? Or was he just hiding it all morning from Morgan, and from all of them?

The latter seems much more likely. He makes a mental note to have a talk with Morgan again, then shakes the thoughts away. Peter is still looking at him, crutches in hand, waiting. 

Tony just sighs. “Alright, kid. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

Taglist: @lyrical-harmony @lovinmarvel3000 @jewelrnicorn  @blu-engineer @mentalyokay

#bloody things and broken wings #thewritingcaptain #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe alternate universe #irondad #au #endgame au #infinity war au #iron dad #irondad fanfiction #iron dad fanfiction #irondad and spiderson #morgan stark #pepper potts #tony stark #peter parker #spider man fanfic #spider man

[arrowdeirdre]

12/12/12 Tag Game

Rules: Answer 12 questions with a character, then make up 12 questions and tag 12 peeps. And also having fun. :) I was tagged by @theravenjedi​. Thank you! You’ve been filling up my notifications these last few days and it made my day to log in and see them. 

I’m going to do this for my nerd Solon Charney from my untitled fantasy series. He hasn’t been getting my attention lately and he deserves better. He also rambles a lot so don’t mind the length  “:D 

Questions:

1. What’s your favorite band/musician? Why?

Music isn’t as accessible in my life compared to the average person. However, there is a special band that always plays during banquets and ceremonies. My sister, Chrya, was one of their dancers so I may be biased, but I would call them my favourite. I believe in your world’s terms, it would be considered classical music. 

2. How do you remember your school years? Are those happy memories?

My years of studies were marvelous! Even though many of them were spent alone with my tutor and Zaara instead of with the other children, I enjoyed myself. I recall once how Zaara tried to sneak some ice cream that she “borrowed” from the kitchen when they were trying to prepare for one of the huge ceremony banquets. We would try to hide the sweet under the table from our tutor and sample it when he turned his back. It unfortunately melted and gave us away. Instead of getting mad, the tutor insisted that Zaara returned to the kitchen to bring him some as well and we all enjoyed the sweet.  

3. Are you creative? How?

Creativity is my sister’s realm of ability. The extent of my creativity is in problem solving but I lack any art-related skills. 

4. If you had one wish, what would it be? And what would you be willing to sacrifice for it?

My one desire is to maintain order between the different political branches of our world. It is my job. I would sacrifice anything but the lives of my people to keep everything as it should be.  

5. According to you, what’s your biggest weakness?

Curiosity is both my blessing and curse. It drives me to learn more about everything but I can easily become distracted or too involved with a project to see the entire picture of what is occurring. I occasionally will just dive into a new topic without advanced research, which can be dangerous without the proper precautions. 

6. What’s your insight on love? Does it exist? Is one sight enough, or do you have to know and understand someone to truly love them?

It exists. I’ve seen it among my friends. And... perhaps I’ve experienced it once myself and I swear to Nox that was a mere passing moment and it no longer lingers and does not ever influence the crucial decisions I am required to make on a daily basis....

(Chrya: Mhm sure) 

Anyways, yes, you must truly know a person before you can love them. Otherwise you just fall for your idea that you’ve imprinted on that person and it isn’t the same. 

7. Do you care for politics?

I must. Understanding their inner workings and processes is part of my duty. 

8. What would you be doing on your ideal day?

I would be in my study with my friends. Even though they would argue unceasingly now, it would be just like when we were younger. 

9. Are you a thinker? Are you curious about how things work?

To a fault. Everything is complexly fascinating. 

10. What’s your style of clothing? Is there any story behind it?

Considering my position, I supposed my clothing is rather dull. A simple button shirt with trousers does me well when I’m just in my study. I do try to wear my mantle when I attend to my duties even though it gets awfully warm in the Branch chambers.  

11. Your opinion about alcohol? Do you drink regularly, socially, not at all?

Alcohol is considered a sacred ceremonial beverage in our world. I have no qualms about the drink as long as it is used properly. There have been a few instances where it has not been and in those cases, I care not for the drink’s effects. I’ve only partaken in alcohol for a ceremony and was not fond of the taste.  

12. Your opinions about higher powers and the supernatural?

There is far too much that has happened to me and my friends for higher powers to not exist. There are forces in play that even I can’t comprehend. As for the supernatural, I’ve seen them for myself and I don’t care to do so again. 

My Questions: 

1. Is there an item your character never leaves home without? What is it and why? 

2. Favourite color? 

3. Who is the person you’re closest to and what are they like? 

4. What do you like to do for fun when you’re not saving/destroying the world? 

5. What is your greatest fear? 

6. What’s the worst injury you’ve had? 

7. What is the first historical event that you can remember?

8. Have you ever been arrested/in serious trouble? What happened? 

9. What is your strongest pet-peeve? 

10. What do you think is the meaning of life? 

11. When was the happiest moment in your life? 

12. Cats or dogs?  Tags:

@bleakyleftoutside @lemonpiperpie @thewritingcaptain (*insert 9 other writers here*) 

[capshorty]

New Writeblr!

Due to my sudden spike in followers and interest in my writing, I’ve decided to move my writing stuff onto a new blog/writeblr to keep it separate from all of my random mess of interests stuff that I post on here. So if anyone wants to follow my new writeblr, it is officially up with all my writing stuff transferred to it already. I am now officially @thewritingcaptain! Feel free to follow me there and I will follow all my mutuals and fellow writeblrs back again!

#writing #my writing #writeblr #writblr #creative writing #fanfiction #original #original writing #original works #artemis fowl #af #ff #throne of glass #tog #zelda #legend of zelda

[the-evanescent-inkwell]

21 21 Tag Game

I was tagged by @thewritingcaptain . Thank you for the tag!

Nickname: Lucy

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 5′2

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Last thing googled: I was looking at alternate dimensions and astral planes in different mythologies because writing. Though I was mostly just looking at art of astral dimensions. 

Favorite Musicians: Fall Out Boy, Evanescence, Kelly Clarkson, Faith Marie, We Are The In Crowd, Hayley Kiyoko, Lacey Sturm, I could go on and on. I listen to music when I write and am constantly finding MORE.

Song that’s been stuck in my head: That Boom Clap song from like 2013-2014?? 

Following: 230. I think most of them are writeblrs, meme accounts, or photography accounts

Followers: 186

Do you get asks?: Not really. Usually, it’s my friend sending me absolute nonsense anonymously. 

Amount of Sleep: Too much my dude. Usually about nine hours during the school year. 

Lucky Number: 7

Wearing: a t-shirt and hideous shorts because I can and it’s summer vacation so I don’t have to leave my house

Dream job: Author. Either that or I want to like grow plants for a living or something. Maybe take care of dogs. But primarily the author thing.

Dream trip: Macchu Picchu man.

Instruments: I’ve had piano lessons and play clarinet in the band. I also know like two songs on the guitar (I ain’t good, but I can struggle through them) and I can carry a melody with my voice. 

Languages: Pretty much English, but I’m taking high school Spanish right now and I understand the structure enough of other Latin languages that I can BS my way through writing bilingual characters. 

Favorite songs: Had to do this to me? Let’s see... Death Dance by Palaye Royal, The Last of the Real Ones by Fall Out Boy, Misery Business by Paramore, Iris by the Goo-Goo Dolls, Fine Again by Seether, Everybody’s Fool by Evanescence, Run to You by Lacey Sturm, Circle by Flyleaf, Wasteland by 10 Years, & Hit and Run by Hayley Kiyoko

Random Fact: I have a dog. He’s a brown standard poodle named Bear and I would die for him.

Aesthetic: Lavender, cabin in the woods, tall moss-covered trees, creaky floorboards, rain hitting the windowpanes, clusters of herbs growing onto the sidewalk, black hoodies, old books that smell of aged glue, the acidic scent of pen on parchment, high tops in clumps of grass, the world altered by the guitar blasting through headphones, vanilla from homemade cookies wafting through the house.

Tagging: literally anyone who wants to. I have no clue which of my mutuals would want to be tagged, so I’ll just leave this up to them. @bluewrites0 @aces-of-cases @per-a-painters-poet @cronchyglass

#tag game #21 21 tag game

[thewritingcaptain]

A Failed Homecoming: Chapter 1

Summary: An alternate ending to Spider-Man: Homecoming. The conversation with Vulture in the car being what it was, what would have happened if he decided to take the information he had and find a different way to deal with Peter, and still get his money in the process?

Notes: It’s come to my attention that, as the idiot I am, this story hasn’t made it to my writeblr yet either. So. Y’all can have this one too. Let me know if you want to be on the taglist, and enjoy! 

Peter Parker was having a very bad day. 

Well, was it even day, anymore? It was hard to tell. He knew, when he left the dance, it had been around nine pm, but he also didn’t know how long he’d been knocked out after. It could be the wee hours of the next morning now. 

Because of course he’d been knocked out after. 

His homecoming date’s Dad had turned out to be the big bad guy he’d been fighting for the past few weeks - surprise surprise. He supposed he should have known. Now that he was a hero, all the bad things were going to come his way, including the worst of the bad things - bad luck. 

Based on the conversation in the car, he could tell the man was suspicious. At the mention of Peter’s internship with Tony, and the fact that Peter knew Spider-Man, he almost thought he was going to stop the car right there and say screw the facade for a chance to get at him. 

But he didn’t. He kept driving, and he stopped and let them out at the school, smiling and kissing his daughter on the cheek as she went in, his eyes on Peter the whole time. 

Then came the confrontation. He had a choice, and he knew it. He could let himself be intimidated, and he could decide not to go after him. This route would have been all the easier based on the fact that he didn’t even have a decent suit to fight him in. All he had was a homemade one, and Lord knew how much web fluid was even left in it, since he hadn’t worn it in months. And yet… could he live with himself if he didn’t?

Deciding the answer was no, he went to the dance long enough to do what he needed to, then retrieved the suit from its hiding place and headed out.

...and got knocked out as soon as he walked out the back door. 

When he came to, it was dark, and he didn’t see anyone around him. That was odd; his night vision had never failed him before. Where was Liz’s dad? Was that who had knocked him out? If not, who else would have done it? Where was he?

Now, he had no idea where he was. He had no idea what time it was. He knew, when he woke up, that his mask was gone, and that he was tied up, because he could feel it. Well, actually, he couldn’t feel much of anything, but he also couldn’t move, which was enough in and of itself to tell him what he needed to know. He was oddly numb and tingly all over, and his head hurt and was feeling rather fuzzy. Funny, that never happened in the movies.

Okay. So, he’d screwed up big time... And it wasn’t looking like there was anything he could do about it. He couldn’t even make his fingers respond to him, let alone move his arm enough to shoot a web. He groaned a little, letting his head slump back against the wall. Great. So he was stuck here until either help came, or the vulture guy came back to finish him off.

What a fitting end to the day. Honestly, what a fitting end to this week, which seemed like it had been from hell. What a fitting end to him. A helpless mess, just as he always truly had been. 

This was the only thought he could hold on to until he blacked out again.

~~~

Tony was feeling rather nostalgic.

He didn’t like it. 

It was an odd feeling. Once upon a time he’d told Pepper that he’d been called many things, and nostalgic was not one of them. And that was still true, in its essence, but he was certainly feeling it now. Leaving the old Avengers Headquarters behind was a big step, but it was the best one for what was coming next. He knew he was making the right choice, even if he was questioning it every step of the way.

Speaking of questionable decisions… He walked out to the balcony, leaning against the railing and staring out over the open sky. He felt bad about the way he’d treated the kid the other day. He may not have been right, and what he’d done in hacking the suit and directly disobeying him was wrong, even if it was genius. But Tony still felt bad for the way he’d treated him. He just still had a hard time fathoming exactly what Peter had been thinking. He knew where the thoughts had stemmed from, to an extent. He remembered a time not so long ago when he’d acted without all the information, sure his judgement was best and that the whole world was either against him or just didn’t know what he knew. He remembered the disastrous aftereffects of those decisions, too. 

But the look on his face when he’d told him he was taking the suit back… 

Tony shook the thoughts away. He was doing the right thing. Somebody had to look out for the kid, and clearly no one else was going to do it. Besides, he meant what he said to him about not wanting anything happening to him on his conscience. And if he kept throwing himself into situations he didn’t have the experience to handle, he would get hurt eventually. 

Maybe he’d give the suit back after the kid had had some time to chew over what he’d done. Maybe, if he could prove he’d learned something from it. 

“Tony!” Happy burst through the door, breathing slightly hard. Pepper wasn’t far behind him. “Tony-”

“I know. It’s about time to go. I’m coming.” He sighed, straightening up and looking over the view one last time. 

“No, it’s not that.” Happy glanced back inside, where all the movers were still boxing and loading things, but no one was paying them any attention. “Listen, Peter just left town, and I… I think something is wrong.”

“Happy, you always think something is wrong.” But his senses were tingling, so he turned and gave him his full attention. A sinking feeling started to form in his gut. “But why this time?”

Happy handed him his phone, wordlessly. The tracker that they’d placed in Peter’s phone had pegged him at several places in the last handful of hours. His apartment, at a house in the city, then at his school for a handful of minutes, then showed him moving at several miles per hour heading for the state’s border. Happy’s phone would have pinged him a warning when he hit the border. And that was at least an hour drive, even at the ridiculous speed he’d been moving at. And now…

Happy watched him study the stats. “The boy can’t drive, Tony, and he’s certainly not swinging anywhere at that speed.”

“He’s not with his aunt?” Tony handed the phone back. He had a feeling… but he had to cover all his bases first. He didn’t want to assume that the kid had went and done something stupid, but…

“No. He was supposed to be at a dance at his school tonight. Based on this, he arrived there intact and left a whole fifteen minutes after showing up.” Happy pocketed the phone, looking at Tony. 

Tony looked down, rubbing his forehead. “You think I should go after him?” He didn’t really have time to, but he also couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling in his stomach that said he needed to.

“I think…” Happy started, then stopped. Both of their eyes dropped to where he’d just pocketed his phone. It had started ringing suddenly. And the ringtone…

Happy pulled out his phone. “It’s Peter.”

“Well answer it, then.” Tony crossed his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It should be a good sign, and yet… that sinking feeling was still there.

“Hello?” Happy held the phone up to his ear, then frowned, pulling it away. His eyes widened when they alighted on the screen. Tony stepped up beside him. What he saw made his stomach lurch so hard that for a moment he thought he was going to empty the contents of his stomach right there. 

It was Peter, all right, but he clearly wasn’t the one who’d made the call. He didn’t really have the technology in his phone to make a hands-free call with no ability to use his hands or feet. Not to mention the fact that he was unconscious currently, head slumped as a deadweight against the wall behind him. He was wearing his rudimentary Spider-Man suit, but the mask was nowhere to be seen. 

Tony actually took a step back. The amount of blood covering the side of his face… head wounds bled something terrible, granted, but nobody should lose that amount of blood. It definitely wasn’t healthy. And that was just the injury he could see. “Is this live?” he demanded, grabbing the phone from Happy. 

“Why yes, it certainly is,” a voice that definitely wasn’t Happy’s answered him. “And I do believe that that is your favorite prodigal super kid. You really hurt his feelings, you know, cutting the internship with him. You almost ruined his relationship with his buddy Spider-Man, too.” 

“Cut the shit. Who is this? What do you want?” Tony had no idea about half of what he was talking about. They’d used an internship with him as a cover one time, but he hadn’t realized Peter had continued to use it. Was that why he’d quit so many things this year? As for the rest, he had no idea what the hell he was talking about. This guy clearly knew Peter was Spider-Man - he was unconscious ten feet away in the suit, for Christ’s sake - but that obviously wasn’t what he cared about, or he wouldn’t have called him. 

“Aw, isn’t that funny? You haven’t truly cared about someone in years, so of course you’ve never had to worry about a ransom demand before. Well, guess what. Surprise! Here it is. There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” the voice taunted.

A ransom. Because of the internship story, or because he’d guessed - accurately - that he actually had real history with the kid, and that he knew both sides of who he was? Tony gritted his teeth. “Coward. Hiding behind a camera, using a kid as bait. Why don’t you show me your face? Or better yet, come meet me and we can sort whatever this is out, man to man.” Anything to draw him away from the kid. He fisted his hands and stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. With fear or anger, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he was feeling a good bit of both right now. “I won’t even bring my suit. We can have a fair fight.” At least it would seem fair until he knocked this guy’s teeth down his throat bare handed. 

The man on the other side of the camera just laughed. “Oh, I know you won’t bring your suit, Iron Man. Otherwise you’ll be carrying his out as a memorial.” He could hear this bastard’s feral grin as he spoke. “Look, I didn’t want to hurt him, but I’ll be honest with you - he’s been quite a pest for the past few weeks. I gotta say, you’ve done a fair job with him. But it wasn’t good enough. Even those spidey-senses couldn’t detect an electrified hand just waiting to knock his lights out from the other side of a steel door.”

He heard Pepper gasp from behind him almost as if from a distance. He was going to kill this guy. There was no doubt about it. He would fry him just like he had to Peter. Tony had been shocked before, and it wasn’t a good feeling by any means. He couldn’t imagine how Peter, with his already overstimulated senses, had handled that. “Coward,” he spit again. It was the only thing he trusted himself to say. 

His insults seemed to have no effect. The man just laughed again. “I thought you were famous for your quick wit? Have all the witty comebacks deserted you in your moment of need, just like you did to your young friend here?” 

A low snarl ripped from his throat involuntarily. It only hurt so much because it was true. He hadn’t realized he was setting the kid up like this when he’d taken the suit away and had virtually cut off the contact between them due to being so busy in the aftermath, but it was certainly undeniable that he had. He was shaking all over now, and there was no way to hide it. “This is ransom demand, isn’t it? So just tell me what you want.” His voice sounded strained as the rest of him felt with the effort to keep himself under control. 

“Fine. I’ll be honest with you, I know this isn’t a good feeling, and I feel a bit bad about it. So if you come get him - alone, mind you - and bring me my money, I’ll let you both walk out of here, no questions asked. So long as you take the boy to go get looked at and agree to stay out of my way, of course. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone by morning.”

Tony closed his eyes. “How much?” 

“Hm…” the man pretended to consider it. “That's the question, isn’t it? How much is his life worth to you?”

Everything. The thought popped into his head, unbidden, but he had the sense not to say it. Yes, he’d give him whatever he wanted for Peter - the same thing he’d give for the other two people around him. He could see almost everyone he truly cared about right now, and the answer would be the same across the board. “I… how much?” 

“How about a full billion? I think that’d be quite enough to set me up for life.” 

Tony looked at Pepper, who nodded and went to work on it immediately. “You got it, jackass. When and where?”

“Oh, you know. However long it takes you to get the money and get here. I wouldn’t take too long, though. The kid’s not looking quite so hot.” He paused. “And let’s not pretend you’re not tracking this right now, Stark. You know where the kid is. So come and get him.”

And with that, the call disconnected. 

It was an effort not to chuck the blasted thing right over the railing. He handed it back to Happy without a word, strolling back inside. 

Happy quickly followed. “What are we going to do? Should I call the police?”

“Leave the police out of it for now.” He was a man on a mission, searching for his suit in the mess of boxes and crates. “I’ll handle it myself.” Mostly because what he wanted to do to him wasn’t entirely legal. Plus, he didn’t need this ending up all over the news. “You and Pepper just work on getting the money as fast as you can. I’m going to suit up and-“

“Is that a good idea? He did threaten to kill him if you showed up in it.”

Tony shot him a look. Like he didn’t remember that detail vividly enough. “Yeah, well, the kid’s hurt, Happy, and it’s the quickest way. I’ll deal with the rest when I get there.” Maybe not his best plan in the world, but he couldn’t sit in the car for an hour and a half and twiddle his thumbs, couldn’t fathom leaving Peter there like that for that long. He could shrink the suit down to just the glove with his nanotech anyway and just keep it hidden under his sleeve. He’d be damned if he was going in empty handed. 

“Fine. What can I do?” 

“Help Pepper gather the money. And get me some extra clothes for the kid. He’s going to need care I am not qualified to give him.” 

“What are you going to do, Tony, just drop him off at a hospital? It doesn’t work like that. And his aunt-“

“I’ll deal with it all later, Happy, now please, just go!” He didn’t mean to snap at him, but he was maintaining most of his control by a wire right now. This was too much. This was bad, and it was his fault. And now… 

He was going to make it right, all right. Starting by smashing that guy into the cement so hard-... well. Following that thought to completion was probably a bad idea. He was trying not to incubate homicidal ideals right now. 

But no matter what happened, first thing was first. 

He had to find his suit.

#a failed homecoming #thewritingcaptain #mcu fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #spiderman homecoming au #mcu au #spiderman fanfiction #irondad #irondad and spiderson #irondad and spiderson fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe alternate universe #marvel cinematic universe au #kidnapping #ransom #au #vulture #peter parker fanfic #peter parker #peter parker and tony stark #tony stark #the vulture

[thewritingcaptain]

Masterlist

Writeblr Intro

Fanfiction: 

MCU: 

Bloody Things and Broken Wings: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

A Simple Plan: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

The Internship: 1 2 3 4

The Spider-Man: P 1  

Captive Audience: 1 2 

The Pieces: 1 2 3

Pepperony Pizza: 1 

One Final Trick: 1 

A Failed Homecoming: 1 2 3

Original Writing: 

General: 

OC Masterlist

Last Line Tag Game

Exile: 

WIP Intro #1: Exile

#my fanfiction #my writing #thewritingcaptain #thewritingcaptain masterlist #my masterlist #masterlist #original writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

[thewritingcaptain]

The Internship (Chapter 4)

“You can't be having second thoughts already." "About the internship? No. About riding with you instead of walking? Maybe a little."

Saying goodbye to May was weird. Almost surreal. She gave him a long hug and made him promise to call at least every other day, then turned to Tony and gave him a stern look. "Take care of him."

Tony nodded, giving her a mock salute. "Scouts honor." He looked at Peter. "Ready, kid?"

"As I'll ever be." He didn't know what else to say.

"Alright. Out we go then." Tony turned on his heel and stepped out of the apartment. Peter followed, waving one last time to his aunt before the apartment door closed behind them and she was gone.

They walked the few minutes to the car in silence. Peter's stomach was doing somersaults the whole time. This was the first time he'd actually been alone with the man, and his nerves were suddenly through the roof again.

Well, technically it wasn't the first time. They'd met once before, but that was Spider-Man and Iron Man, not Tony Stark and Peter Parker. Tony may have been the same in and out of his suit, but Peter was not. And the key difference was that Peter didn't want his identity to be revealed, even - or perhaps especially - to Tony.

Maybe that was why his nerves were through the roof. Even though they barely knew each other, it felt like he was lying by not telling him who he was, knowing that they had met before in different circumstances. But he couldn't fathom just randomly bringing it up in conversation, either. Besides, Tony was just intense to be around. And he couldn't decide if he should be scared of what would happen if he found out or not. He didn't seem like the type of person you wanted to make angry; but he did seem like the type of person who would be angry if they found out information had been withheld from them.

Tony's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Don't."

Peter's head shot up. "Hm?" Out of habit, he had opened the back door to the car and tossed his bag in, and was about to slide in himself when Stark spoke.

"You can ride in the front, you know. You're a big kid." Tony raised an eyebrow at him over the car, then slid into the driver's seat.

Oh. He was so used to riding in taxis that he hadn't even considered that. Shrugging a bit, he left his bag in the back and closed the door, then got in the passenger seat.

He could feel Tony's eyes on him, waiting, as he settled in and put his belt on. Hardly waiting for it to fully click, the billionaire spared a brief glance in his mirrors to confirm he was clear before flying into the street.

Startled, Peter gripped the armrests on either side of him to steady himself. Holy shit, he drove like a maniac! He had to close his eyes and steady himself a bit to be sure he wasn't going to either throw up or say something stupid.

When he opened his eyes again, he could feel that Tony was looking at him. "What?" His tone came out sharper than he'd intended, but his heart was still beating pretty fast in his chest.

"Don't throw up in my car, kid." Maybe not the best response, but the intentions were good in saying something. He was less worried about the vomit itself than why the kid looked that way. "You alright? You can't be having second thoughts already."

"About the internship? No. About riding with you instead of walking? Maybe a little." Still holding on to the armrest for dear life with one arm, he brought the other up to run through his hair. "With all due respect, sir, you drive like a maniac." At least you do now that my aunt isn't in the car.

Tony chuckled, seeming to guess his unspoken thought. "We weren't going near as far and it wasn't near as late. No point in trying if I couldn't even get to full speed before we stopped again. Anyway, are you going to keep calling me that every time you speak to me? Because I was fairly certain I'd told you to cut it out." He wasn't a huge fan of being called "Mr. Stark" - in his mind, that was his father - but he also really hated being called sir. Especially repeatedly. With the exception of very few circumstances, most of which involved him and women and things way too inappropriate to tell the kid.

Peter just shrugged. "I don't know what else to call you, Mr. Stark."

He suddenly realized he didn't know what he wanted him to call him either. Typically he insisted anyone close to him call him his given name, but they definitely weren't there yet. "I don't know. Call me… boss, or something. Anything is better than that. You're a smart kid, you'll figure something out." He paused, glancing over at him again. Whether it was nerves or something else entirely, he didn't seem to want to talk much. He gathered from what he'd seen of him - at dinner with his aunt, talking to Miss Potts, their interactions at the interview - that Peter not talking much was a rare thing indeed, but he wasn't good enough with discerning emotions to be able to tell exactly why, and thus didn't know what to say to fix it.

See, this was why he didn't deal with kids. They were too moody and complicated - teenagers especially. He sighed. Fine. The kid would come out with it in due time. Either that, or their time together would be mostly occupied by music to fill the silence.

Speaking of which… Tony reached out and turned on the radio, turning it up loud enough to do exactly that but leaving it low enough that he could still hear the kid if he said something.

Peter had little intention of saying anything, in truth. It occurred to him that if he hadn't spoken so little to Tony when they'd met before, he'd have been busted before he could walk out of his office that first day. He did have some self preservation instinct, then. But every time they spoke now, it was a risk of jogging Tony's memories. Especially when they were alone. Especially if he moved too fast or grabbed something too hard - like the armrests he was carefully monitoring his grip on - or worse, snapped at something that overloaded his heightened senses, like the fact that driving this fast was enough to upset his stomach because he could genuinely sense how fast they were going and everything they were passing and it was just giving him general motion sickness, or that damned music that Tony had turned up and he had to concentrate on not making a face at the intensity of. He liked Led Zeppelin, but right now, it was just too much for him.

His grip tightened on the armrest, and his heightened senses managed to pick up on the slight crack before he could damage the armrest enough for it to actually snap. He forced his grip to relax, taking a deep breath and turning his gaze out the window. Logically he knew he couldn't avoid talking to him forever, but he would still have to be careful.

Hearing his intake of breath, Tony glanced at him again, turning the radio down a little bit so he didn't have to yell over it. His driving couldn't be bothering him that badly, surely? "You do realize I fly through the air in a metal suit at speeds five times this, don't you?"

Peter managed to make himself look at him, and he had to admit he was surprised at the mild tinge of concern he saw in his eyes. "This isn't your suit, Mr. Stark. It's not made to withstand the damage, and there's no AI here to cover our asses."

He saw Tony's eyebrows shoot up, and he regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Was the AI in Tony's suit even common knowledge? Shit. Maybe he actually didn't have any preservation instinct.

"How do you know so much about my suits?" Tony found he wasn't really alarmed as much as curious to where he'd gotten his information.

"I…" Peter fumbled for a response for a moment. "I'm just an admirer of it. Most of the details about it can be found as a matter of public record. Witness reports and such. Plus, I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to be required to do so I did a little research in the case I actually got the job." It wasn't all exactly untrue. Most of the details he'd said could be found in old police reports, and he actually had done some research into his suit in the past. It just wasn't recently.

"Hmm." Stark didn't say anything, and Peter let his gaze wander back out the window, knowing his face would be what gave him away under pressure. Tony's face, on the other hand, gave nothing away, and he had no idea what the elder man was thinking. He only hoped that that was a true enough sounding excuse. If he pressed…

But, whatever Stark was thinking, he didn't share, and he didn't press him for more details, either, much to his relief. The rest of the ride to the tower passed in a blur, as they were both lost in their own thoughts.

When Tony finally pulled into the garage - tires squealing as he slid into a parking spot at high speed - Peter couldn't get out of the car fast enough. Minding his strength, he quickly threw the door open and hopped out, leaning heavily against the car and trying to get a handle on the sensory overload and his motion sickness before Mr. Stark could get out and notice.

He had all of about two seconds to regulate his breathing before Stark shut off the car and got out. He could feel the elder man's eyes boring into him again immediately, and he quickly turned, opening the car door and grabbing his bag out. When he straightened and closed the door again, Stark was still waiting, looking at him like a puzzle he was trying to figure out. "Ready?" he asked him. Peter just nodded, and Stark motioned for him to follow, so he did. They walked to the far end of the garage and got in an elevator. "Jarvis," Stark said suddenly, and Peter jumped, but quickly realized he wasn't talking to him. "Is Pepper asleep?"

"Checking," the robotic voice of the AI answered into the elevator. A moment later, it spoke again. "She appears to be. Would you like me to wake her up?"

"No. Leave her sleep. I guess she'll just find out in the morning." Tony sighed. It wasn't worth waking her up, even if the look on her face would probably be priceless. The elevator stopped, and he glanced back at Peter again. "Alright. Come on. I'll show you where you're sleeping for the night."

Peter nodded, following him out and looking around. So the AI that was in his suit was the AI that powered everything around them as well? He couldn't help but find it fascinating.

Tony walked through most of the floor without paying any attention to his surroundings - he did live there, after all. Peter, on the other hand, took everything in, so much so that when Tony stopped he almost walked right into his back. Thankfully, he caught himself, and the elder man either didn't realize or was ignoring how close he'd gotten. He unlocked the door they'd stopped in front of and pushed it open. "Here you are, home sweet home. Now I gotta be in California for a meeting by one, their time, so we need to arrive a bit before that, so we'll be leaving here for the jet at eight am sharp. I don't care if you get up at five til so long as you're in the kitchen and ready to leave on time. Got it?"

Peter nodded. "Will do, Mr. Stark."

"Alright. Goodnight, then." Tony left without another word, heading down the hall to his quarters.

Peter stepped inside the room, closing the door and looking around slowly. He'd just made his way over and flopped down on the bed when a blue light suddenly winked on, and a holographic scanner ran over him without warning. Oh. So the AI was installed in every room of the house then. That was interesting.

He found it a lot less interesting when the AI suddenly spoke again.

"Scanning complete. Welcome to Stark Tower, Spider-Man. I'm pleased to see you've recovered from your previous injury."

Peter froze, then bolted up. "What did you just say?"

"Your injuries have all healed since the last time we met, Mr. Parker. Or should I scan again to be sure?"

"No! I just... " It was AI, it was a computer; how did it know? "How did you know?" He couldn't make his voice go above a whisper.

"If you recall, Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark had me scan you for injuries at the sight of your last encounter. My database has records of your height, weight, facial structure for facial recognition-"

This was too much. "Okay, I get it, thank you. Does Mr. Stark know?" He couldn't know. Surely he would have said something as soon as they were alone if he did, right?

"Not to my knowledge, Peter. Would you like me to ask him?"

"No!" He stopped, making a conscious effort to control his voice. "I would very much appreciate it if you didn't tell him."

The AI was quiet for a minute, as if calculating if this was possible. Apparently, that was exactly what it was doing. "Lying is not an ability within my programming, Mr. Parker. I shall have to alert Mr. Stark in the morning, as he has set his room to do not disturb protocol at the moment."

"No! It's not lying, honestly! It's only lying if he asks you and you tell him that I'm not the Spider-Man. Yeah? Check the definition." He sounded desperate, and he knew it. It was a wild thought, telling Jarvis to check the definition, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to accomplish. Well, he did, but he didn't really know if it would work.

Again, that half-second pause as the AI calculated. "Definition of lying: the act of telling a lie. Definition of lie: an intentionally false statement."

"See? It's only a lie if he asks."

The AI considered this for a moment. "Indeed, what you are saying doesn't mesh with the direct definition of a lie. I shall tell him only if he asks, then."

"Thank you, Jarvis." Peter flopped back on the bed, putting a hand over his chest. For a split second, he had worried he might have a panic attack. And he honestly had no idea why. Some part of him really thought that Stark would be mad if he found out that he was Spider-Man, and he honestly wasn't entirely sure why. Because they'd met before? Because he was deceiving him the same way he did everyone else? Because it made him feel as though he knew something Stark didn't and he was afraid he wouldn't like that? Because it made him seem as though his interest was more in him as a hero than as seriously wanting to learn from him in a business aspect?

He just wasn't ready to tell him yet. He'd brought his suit more as a comfort than anything, knowing that he couldn't really use it in these circumstances or Stark would figure him out for sure. It was good to know he had it, though. Stark had called one thing right without even realizing it - it was like a comfort object to him.

Sighing, he laid back in the bed for a moment and stared at the ceiling. He knew he should get up, maybe shower, at least change into some pajamas, but he just couldn't bring himself to get up again. After Jarvis had scared the living daylights out of him on top of everything else, he was just ready for bed.

He just had time to think that he would never fall asleep after all the excitement and nerves of the day and the ones that were still roiling around in him before he conked out.

#the internship #tony stark #peter parker #irondad #iron dad #irondad and spiderson #iron dad and spiderson #irondad fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #thewritingcaptain #mcu au

[thewritingcaptain]

A Simple Plan: Chapter 14

To think he'd hoped that Tony would rescue him. It had been foolish, he knew. He should have seen the Avengers kindness for what it was, should have realized that whether he was Spider-Man or not, they really had no connection to him and no reason to care about him. Why would they waste their valuable resources coming to rescue him?

Part 2

In between the extended periods of darkness, there was only pain.

It was odd, honestly. He had a hard time understanding what was going on, between the pain and the dehydration and the fact that everything was just generally hazy. How long had he been here? He had no idea, now. He had no basis of where to even start counting hours, what with him having been knocked out immediately upon Tony leaving, and the extended amounts of time he was unconscious for all the time now.

And yet, what they were doing to him seemed… different. The first time was painful as hell, yes, but… it made sense. He'd been injected with things, subjected to crazy tests to figure out if their experiments had worked, but there was a purpose to all of it.

This time, the pain just seemed… senseless. It was near constant, and they didn't seem to have any goal in mind. There was no reprieve, nor any pattern, unlike the last time. The only real thing he could count on was the pain, and whether that was real or not was hard to say sometimes.

But all he could do was lay there and take it.

Tony hadn't slept.

Letting Peter go had to be the worst decision he'd ever made. Worse than abducting him, worse than deciding to do that first poor attempt at raiding Hydra, worse than anything he could think of.

The kid's face haunted him constantly. He could sense the moment he'd realized that his parents weren't there - and for whatever reason, they weren't. Tony had noticed a split second after he did, and by that point, it was too late. They were surrounded, and the realization only seemed to make Peter more determined.

Leaving him was the hardest thing he'd done in... years.

The moment he'd realized Peter's parents were nowhere to be seen, he realized the kid was right. He was going straight back to Hydra. Whatever their motives were, Tony had no idea, but Peter hadn't seemed very convinced that he would get out, and… well, he'd been right up to this point. He didn't doubt the kid's abilities, but if he was sure he wasn't getting out, then Tony wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to try before doing something.

And so he hadn't slept. He went to work immediately upon returning to the tower, trusting Steve and the others to deal with Wanda.

He hadn't been able to figure out before — where Hydra was hiding, what their motives were — but now he had all the information he'd had to work with before plus some, the knowledge of all the places they weren't, and a suddenly much more personal motive.

He cared about both of them, so he couldn't fathom why it being Peter made this so much more… personal. He couldn't fathom, even still, why he cared about Peter so much, nor when it had happened. But somewhere along the way… it just had. There was no explanation for it. And yet, he found that he didn't mind it. It just felt natural. And the feeling was further intensified by the fact he was sure he wasn't the only one. The whole team seemed to have been touched by him in a way that they couldn't explain, even if they'd only met him once.

It helped, having the whole team back. Nat and Clint were back in the game, whether they were really recovered enough to be or not, and Wanda, whenever she recovered enough to tell them what she knew, had a gold mine of information, at least when it came to rescuing Peter. They wouldn't be taking down Hydra as a whole with what she knew, but they had a fair idea of the conditions Peter was facing, and even a little of what it looked like inside.

It took days to compile the intelligence they already had with what Wanda knew, and to give Nat and Clint a chance to do their own work. Over a week, counting the time they were able to put everything together and come up with a decent plan. He left Peter in that hellhole for over a week. The knowledge killed him, but there was little he could do. They could be hasty and try to attack immediately, sure, but even if they had all the right information and the right location, if they went about it the wrong way, he would slip right through their fingers the same way Wanda had the first time. And then that week and some change could turn into weeks or a month or more and he just could not allow that, so he waited.

They waited and planned and worked better as a team than they probably ever had before on anything. They pulled out all the stops in preparation, and when it came time to make their move, they did. And this time they weren't going home without what they came for.

He saw them, once.

Well, not saw. Heard, was more like. But his dad was there, he was sure of it. Helping them, it seemed. His mom, less so — she'd come in to talk to him, for a brief time, and no one had been hurting him at the time, so… maybe she wasn't in on it? Maybe she was just there? Or maybe he'd just dreamed the whole thing and that was why. That was probably the more likely explanation, even if he didn't really want to accept it.

He still didn't know how long he'd been here. By now even his sleep schedule was so whack from the pain and constant darkness and the fact that he was in and out of consciousness all the time that any measure of it he had was long gone. It could have been a day or a month already and he wouldn't know.

To think he'd hoped that Tony would rescue him. It had been foolish, he knew. He should have seen the Avengers kindness for what it was, should have realized that whether he was Spider-Man or not, they really had no connection to him and no reason to care about him. Why would they waste their valuable resources coming to rescue him? He'd already been nothing but trouble, and they got what they came for, so why risk anyone else over him?

The simple answer was that they wouldn't. It made no sense. Still, he couldn't help hoping, in the beginning, and sometimes even through the haze of pain he was in, that someone — someone being multiple people, as time progressed, but if he was truthful, it was mainly Tony who dominated his hopes of rescue — would come for him eventually.

It didn't help that they Hydra agents seemed to think the same thing. He could hear them, sometimes, when they weren't experimenting with his senses for whatever form of torture was currently their favorite. Talking about what they would do and test to pass the time. What they thought would hurt him most, what they could accomplish before Tony came. What would hurt Tony the most when he found him again.

It was maddening. Every bit of it. Not knowing what was real and what was dreams through the haze of pain, the pain itself, the missing chunks of time… he really thought he was going insane.

The worst pain was his chest. Whatever it was they were doing to him, he was deprived of every sense they could, and then it just… seared. Blazing, blindingly hot, sizzling, foul smelling, and painful. And they did it every day, presumably hoping it would eventually scar. Even when he could feel it starting to, they still kept at it.

It was usually that pain that made him black out for the longest time. Everything else, while it still hurt, was nothing in comparison. He dreaded it every day - or at least what he assumed was every day. If it wasn't… well, then he really had no idea.

He just didn't understand. None of it made sense. What were they doing to him? Why did they want him in the first place if not to continue experimenting on him? And if these Hydra agents were so sure Tony was coming for him... then where was he?

A crash woke him.

Then a shot, another, something that sounded like a devastating impact.

Peter groaned as he started to surface from that blackness that seemed to be constantly surrounding him these days. Whatever the hell this new turmoil was, it was loud and obnoxious and interrupting the closest thing to peace he'd had since he'd gotten here. He just wanted it to go away.

But it didn't go away. It only intensified as time went on. It was torture on his already strained senses, but there was nothing he could do but lay there and take it, and try to block as much of it out as possible.

"Peter?"

The boy flinched. God, it had been so long since he'd heard his own name. Hydra didn't really talk to him, and when they talked about him, it was more of a passing comment, usually referring to him as "it" or some other inconclusive name. But who would be calling his name now? The voice was too loud, and his senses too painfully strained for him to be able to identify it.

"Hey, kid, come on. Can you hear me?" A pause, and then hands brushed his wrist, his throat, and he heard the sound of breath catching. "Stark, I found him, but it's not- it's not good. I'm going to get him back to the Quinjet. You guys finish up here as soon as possible."

If there was a reply, it was indistinguishable from the rest of the background noise to Peter's ears. Hands were on him again, tugging and pulling at whatever was holding him in place, and then he was being moved and oh god was it painful-

"Sorry, sorry, you're okay, kid, you're alright," the voice was murmuring, and then he was being jostled again and something shifted in just the right way and the world was suddenly black again.

He went in and out of the blackness a few times. Each time he woke up, the situation was more and more bizarre and his mind less and less able to grasp it.

The first time there was still moving and noise and chaos and he still couldn't see.

The second time, he'd been laid down on something, and the majority of the noise had faded into the background, though there were still voices shouting and the distant sound of battle in the background.

The third time, the background was quieter, though there was a distinct humming that never seemed to go away, but the voices were closer, and there were just so many of them, all different and all leaving an impression of familiarity but he was too out of it to have any idea why.

"He's in bad shape-"

"I should never have let him do this-"

"This isn't just your fault, Tony-"

"They've made it quite clear whose fault it is, they had from the beginning-"

"Fighting isn't going to help-"

"What are we going to do-"

"His parents-"

"This was a major win, we should be happy-"

"But the kid-"

"Look what they did to him, look at his chest-"

He was out again.

By the fourth time, things had settled down a lot. He was on a bed, he thought, and it was a lot comfier than anything else he'd touched in a long time, and it was completely quiet, no background noise or voices or anything to be heard but the soft thumping of his and one other person's breaths and heartbeats. He was coherent enough — or perhaps just paranoid enough — to realize the second set had to be from someone else, and that person had to be waiting on him to wake up, but he didn't know where he was or what that meant or if he should be terrified by the knowledge or not. It was clear that, at least temporarily, he was away from Hydra; but at what cost? Were his "rescuers" really rescuers at all? Or another evil for him to worry about when he really woke up?

Well, right now he didn't have the strength or mental capacity to worry about it. As soon as the fleeting notion to panic hit him, it seemed to exhaust him completely before it could even fully grip his body, and then he was sinking fully back into the blackness for the last time.

Taglist: @lyrical-harmony @lovinmarvel3000 @tell-that-to-my-feather @twixen93 @m0ther-of-dragons @dantedeletes 

#a simple plan #thewritingcaptain #mcu fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker whump #irondad #irondad fanfiction #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #tony stark and peter parker #tony stark and peter parker fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe

[thewritingcaptain]

The Internship: Chapter 3

May had just seemed to realize that Peter wasn't listening, and she frowned a bit, leaning forward and putting her hand on his arm. "Peter? Are you alright?" He didn't get a chance to answer, because in that moment, Tony had appeared beside the table. "Mr. Parker. Got a moment to talk?"

The beauty of being a former weapons manufacturer was that knowing how to hack and track technology was a must, and thus, a skill he'd mastered a long time ago. He'd barely pulled out of the parking garage before Jarvis had successfully gotten into the kid's phone and tracked him to a restaurant in downtown Queens. Tony turned up the radio and sped that way.

Meanwhile, at said restaurant, Peter and May were halfway through their meal and had no idea that Tony Stark was speeding toward them at that very moment. In fact, Peter had spent most of the meal purposefully trying not to think of Stark and his internship at all. He had no idea that the offer was already on the table, having been out with his aunt for the past few hours and as a result, not having checked his email yet that evening.

He was about to find out.

Their waitress had just come up to hand his aunt the check when Tony walked in. Peter wasn't paying attention at all, finishing up the sundae he'd order for dessert and listening to his aunt tell a story about some crazy client at work. He lifted his eyes from his ice cream to his aunt when his sixth sense started to tingle again, and he froze with the spoon halfway to his mouth when he caught sight of Tony in the front of the restaurant, talking to the hostess, who was saying something and pointing back toward their table.

This couldn't be happening. What was he doing here? He surely couldn't be looking for him, could he? The great Tony Stark, chasing him down? Why?

For just a second, the irrational, fleeting thought crossed his panicked mind again that Tony may have figured him out already. But even if he had, he didn't understand why that merited chasing him down. What would it matter to him if Peter was Spider-Man?

But sure enough, he was coming back this way. May had just seemed to realize that Peter wasn't listening, and she frowned a bit, leaning forward and putting her hand on his arm. "Peter? Are you alright?"

He didn't get a chance to answer, because in that moment, Tony had appeared beside the table. "Mr. Parker. Got a moment to talk?"

"Uh, yeah- yeah, sure." He started to stand up, but the elder man waved him off, grabbing a chair from a nearby table and just dragging it over instead.

He sat down on the chair and leaned forward, putting his arms up on the back before turning to May, who still had yet to speak, and holding out a hand. "Tony Stark. How are you? You must be Peter's…"

"Aunt," she finished for him, shaking his hand. "My name is May. And you know Peter, of course."

"Mhm." He looked back at Peter, cocking his head. "You get Pepper's email, kid?"

"Email? No, sir. I've been…"

"Busy? Yeah, me too. So here's the deal." Tony leaned toward him. "The internship is yours, if you want it. But there's a catch." He stopped, his eyes flicking to May for a moment and then back to Peter. "I got called out on business. I gotta skip town. So if you want the position, you have to come with."

Peter stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. His aunt spoke before he could. "Skip town? To where? For how long?" She immediately rolled off all the questions he wanted to know, without a moment's hesitation, and he exhaled a small breath, feeling immensely grateful for her in that moment. Why was it he seemed to lose his ability to speak every time he was around Tony?

Tony ran a hand through his hair, then dropped his head on his chin. "To California. For… however long it takes me, honestly." At the look May gave him, he shrugged. "I told you, business. An old friend has asked me for some help with something that's come up, and I can't leave him hanging." He looked back at Peter, searching his face for some sort of reaction. "I know it's sudden, and I understand it's clear across the country. I do. But you were the most qualified candidate, and I felt you deserved the choice."

May looked from Tony to Peter, her uncertainty written all over her face. "I… I don't know, Peter. That's pretty far. And not knowing when you'll be back…"

"I would be sure he's home by the end of the summer, of course," Tony added, feeling the sudden need to clarify that. He had to hold back a frown. What was he doing? Didn't he want them to say no? On one hand - the hand that felt this was pointless and would likely never amount to anything - he thought yes, but on the other… the kid had skills, and Pepper had a point.

"Mr. Stark…" Peter spoke for the first time since he'd arrived, shaking the million swirling thoughts from his head. "I'm honored, sir. But with all due respect… I don't know if I can do that." The look on his aunt's face was enough to tell him everything he needed to know. She wasn't comfortable with this, not even close, and he wasn't sure that he was, either, great opportunity or no. Not to mention that would mean he wouldn't be able to be Spider-Man all summer. The thought made him uneasy.

May spoke up suddenly before Tony could respond to that. "This… business of yours. It wouldn't be dangerous, would it? And Peter wouldn't be involved in it?"

Tony shook his head. "To the best of my knowledge, no." That wasn't entirely true. It could well be dangerous for him, but he wouldn't be letting the kid anywhere near it, and so there was no need to tell her that. "The internship itself still stands the way it did here in the city. You'd still be working with me on day to day stuff, learning the ropes, that type of stuff. But if you're not interested, I understand. It's a big jump, and we don't have a lot of time." He leaned back.

"Meaning…?" May prodded.

Tony let out an awkward hum, pressing his lips together and looking down. "Meaning I need to leave in the morning, so I need a decision, like, now."

"No," Peter said, suddenly, decisively. "That's my decision."

Tony looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright." He started to get up, but May grabbed his arm.

"Wait just a minute, Mr. Stark. Peter…" She shook her head, looking at him with a hint of amazement. "Just… wait." She looked at Tony. "Can I talk to him for a moment, if you don't mind?"

"Sure, sure. I'll just…" He waved a hand, wandering off and leaning against the wall by the door.

Peter watched him go until May grabbed his hand, refocusing his attention on her. "Peter, this is a really big opportunity."

"You don't think I know that?" Peter looked down, shaking his head. "I do. I honestly do. But we're talking about the opposite coast of the country, May. I just… I don't like the idea of being that far away from you, especially for too long. I mean, what if something happens to you?" You're all I have left, he didn't have to add.

But the sentiment clearly crossed her mind as well, because her expression softened, and she squeezed his hand. "I know. I do. But you're not a little kid anymore, Peter. You're almost 17 years old. You have to have a life too. You're going to grow up and make something of yourself, not stay with me in a rinky-dink apartment in Queens forever." She sighed, looking down. "I can't make you stay, and I can't let you stay on my account, either, knowing I'm the only thing holding you back. I know how big this opportunity is for you. If you honestly think this is the type of thing you want to do with your life, then you should go."

Peter just looked at her, his eyes searching her face, taking in her earnest expression. He didn't need that sixth sense to confirm that she was telling the truth, and that this was genuinely how she felt. He looked down. "But what about you?"

"What about me, Peter? I'll still be here at the end of the summer, I promise." She squeezed his hand again. "You can call me every day. I promise I'll still be here, and when you come back, things can go right back to how they were if that's what you want. I trust you." She shrugged once, looking down. "Besides, I'm going to work all summer anyway. We'll probably see just as much of each other over video call as we would if you were physically here."

In that, he couldn't argue she had a point. He sighed, leaning back in his seat and squeezing her hand back. When he looked up, Tony was making his way back over. "You sure about this?" he asked, just to confirm once and for all she meant it. "Because it looks like our time is about up."

"I'm positive," May promised. She let go of his hand, leaning back as Tony walked up and reclaimed his seat.

"Something, anything for me yet? It is getting late, and I do have to leave bright and early tomorrow whether you come or not." He crossed his arms, looking between them for answers. He landed on May first, raising his eyebrows. "You? Yes or no?"

May looked at Peter, then back to Tony, meeting his eyes. "He'll be safe and well-taken care of? You'll look after him?"

"100%. He'll be with me or my personal assistant or my head of security at almost all times." At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "I'm not going to follow him around my own mansion." He paused, looking at May again and giving her an earnest look. "Trust me, if there's something I think he could get into, it'll be locked away nice and tight."

She just sat there for a moment, clearly thinking it through one final time before shaking her head once and shrugging helplessly. "Honestly, Peter, I don't know that there's safer hands I could leave you in. It's up to you."

They both looked at him. Peter looked between them - at his aunt's earnest, excited face, and Tony's stoic, intense expression as he tried to read what Peter was thinking before he could say it. "I…" He hesitated, and they both leaned forward slightly, waiting for his answer. He threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, fine. I'm in."

May gave a sigh of relief and smiled at him, and Tony nodded and rubbed his hands together, standing up. "Excellent. Let's hit the road then. If we go now we may just be able to get your essentials and be back at the tower by midnight."

"What? I'm going with you now?" Peter had started to stand up, but froze in place at his words.

Tony heaved a sigh, looking back at him. "Yes, unless you want to have to start walking in the middle of the night to make it to the tower before morning. I like you and all, kid, but none of us are driving down that early to get you at an hour both ways to be able to leave on time." Not that Happy or Pepper couldn't necessarily be convinced to do it, but it was just easier this way, not to mention kinder on all of them. He didn't want to see the look on either one of their faces if he got back to the tower at midnight and woke one of them up to inform them that they had to do that.

Peter blanched, although his aunt seemed unphased. She just sighed, shaking her head a little. "Go with him, Peter. I'll catch up as soon as I get this taken care of." She picked up the bill.

"Here, let me." Tony plucked it smoothly from her hand, glancing at it briefly and then tossing it down on the table with a fifty on top of it, which was more than double what the bill had cost. "There. Now, come along, and I'll drive you home."

The ride back to his apartment was short and dazed. Peter remembered very little of it, only realizing how long they'd been driving when the car stopped outside the building.

It occurred to Peter he'd never given him the building address, and he hadn't heard May tell him it either. He thought about asking how he knew, but decided quickly that was a question for another day. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know, especially right now.

Tony parked the car on the edge of the road and got out, walking around to open the door for May without a word. It was instinct, by this point; just proper manners. Peter didn't even look at them, hopping out and starting for the door. May started to follow, but Tony caught her arm.

She turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

He held out a hand. "Gimme your phone."

"O...kay." She gave him a strange look, but pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to him.

"I'm giving you my PA's number," he explained without looking up. "In case you would need to reach me." And because anyone with his or Pepper's number in their phone was easily pinged, thus allowing him to keep an eye on her. God forbid something were to happen; but his conscience wouldn't be laid to rest at all until he knew he'd put as many safe guards in place as possible, no matter how ridiculous.

"Oh. Well thank you." She took it back when he held it out, and then he locked the car, letting her lead him inside.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Ms. Parker?" He had to double check. He'd been pushing them for a decision and they'd made one he hadn't expected. But then, he also hadn't looked into the kid before coming, and he hadn't realized he lived with an aunt instead of parents. He had the feeling there was many things he didn't realize about Peter that he was soon going to find out. Starting tomorrow, if he had any say in the matter. He knew Happy and Pepper would have dug into security on the kid, but he hadn't been privy to whatever they'd come up with, mostly because he hadn't wanted to be.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be, Mr. Stark?"

Tony blinked in surprise, unsure how to respond to that. "Not… as far as I'm aware of. Most people just aren't so willing to part with their kids on a moment's notice."

"I wouldn't say I'm happy about it, exactly." May pushed open the door to their apartment and stepped inside. "But he's almost an adult, and if this is what he wants to do with his life, who am I to tell him no? Besides, he's a responsible kid, and I trust him. I am going to hope that you're a responsible adult, or that you'll at least let me believe that you are even if you're entrusting that specific bit to others."

The last part was a dig, he was sure of it, and it was surprising but not undeserved. He knew not so long ago he'd had a pretty messy reputation, and suddenly he wondered if the comment she'd made to Peter about good hands was more for the benefit of convincing him to go than because she actually believed it. But if she didn't believe it, then she must have trusted the kid a whole hell of a lot to let him go. "Well, I won't tell you otherwise, then." He stepped further inside, looking around. He pointed down the hallway, silently asking if that was where the kid had went, and May just nodded as she took her jacket off.

Tony went to the boy's room, pushing the door open quietly and stepping inside. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He had the fleeting thought that Peter wasn't paying any attention and that he could easily scare him if he felt like it, but before he had decided if he wanted to or not his eyes landed on something else and the intention was forgotten. "What the hell is that?"

Peter knew it was probably rude to leave his newfound mentor and his aunt, but he was afraid if he didn't make it back to his room and one of them came snooping he wouldn't be able to pack his suit without being noticed. It was the one thing that really mattered that he get. He couldn't leave it behind - just in case. Even if he'd have to have a death wish to use it around Tony Stark.

He took the stairs two at a time, not waiting for the two adults to follow him. He got into his apartment and nearly ran for his room, having the sense to mostly close the door behind him as he found the nearest duffel bag and then grabbed his baseball bat, moving the roof tile his suit was hidden above. A jump to the ceiling and a fateful toss later, the suit was in his bag, and he felt himself exhale a breath of relief as he touched the ground again. Good. The worst of it was over.

After that, it was just basics. He stuffed as much of his clothes as he could in the duffel and the notebook he kept track of his different experiments and calculations, and then stopped, considering what else to take, if anything.

"What the hell is that?"

Peter whirled, facing the billionaire. "What? Oh." Tony was staring at the hole in the ceiling where he hadn't put the tile back in place yet. His mind whirled to come up with an excuse. That was stupid. "It's broken," he blurted, then internally cursed at how dumb he sounded.

"You don't say." Tony's gaze flicked from the hole to his bag and back to him before shrugging, leaning against the wall. "Got everything?"

"Is there anything specific I need, Mr. Stark?" Peter turned and zipped up the duffel he'd filled, pulling it on his shoulder.

Tony just shrugged. "Unless you've got a specific comfort item or shit, then nope. I can get you anything you need once we get there."

Peter just nodded. Said comfort item was already in his bag. It had been the first thing he packed. "All good."

"Alright. Then let's go."

#the internship #thewritingcaptain #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #mcu #mcu au #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe alternate universe #marvel cinematic universe au #iron man #irondad #iron dad #irondad fanfiction #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark and peter parker #tony stark and peter parker fanfiction

[thewritingcaptain]

The Internship: Chapter 2

Yet maybe why that was exactly why he shouldn’t have applied. Because they had that connection. And because Peter genuinely had something to hide.

Notes: So it has occurred to me as I was going back through my blog to make sure everything else is up to date that I posted the first chapter of this here and never the rest of it because I’m a fecking idiot. Like really, this is my most popular story, and I just... left it off my writeblr? Unacceptable. So here it is. I hope you enjoy, and let me know if anyone wants to be on the taglist for this piece. 

And in case my stupidity means you need to see chapter one again, you can find it here. 

His senses were tingling. 

That was Peter’s only thought as he walked out of the interview. His Spider sense was going off the charts right now, which was absolutely ridiculous. He knew as well as anyone else that he was in the presence of another hero; part of the reason he’d applied for this internship was because of his alter ego, and because of what he knew of Tony’s. Iron Man had been someone he admired for years before he’d ever become Spider-Man, and yet....

Yet maybe why that was exactly why he shouldn’t have applied. Because they had that connection. And because Peter genuinely had something to hide. 

As he rode home in a cab, he chewed over the interview in his head. It had gone well enough, he thought. He was honestly kind of relieved when Tony hadn’t been paying a whole lot of attention to it. He was incredibly intimidating in person, and… well. There was their previous encounter to think about. 

Stupid. So stupid. This was an unnecessary risk, he knew, but it was also such a good opportunity. And he couldn’t deny that he would learn a lot from this summer internship, were he to get it - not just about being a hero, but from Tony, in general. The man was a genius after all; there was no denying that. And what he had told Miss Potts was completely true. This was exactly what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Tony’s achievements had been an influence on that. Just being in his presence was enough to give him the urge to do something, anything, in suit or out of it. 

But he also was smart enough to know that this was exactly why his senses were tingling, too. Stark had a good poker face, but he’d caught the way he’d been studying him when he thought he wasn’t looking. He knew something was up, or he had a hunch, at least. The man’s instincts were sharp, and with good reason. 

He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. There had been hundreds of candidates in and out of there. He had to try, just to be able to say he did, but the likelihood he would have gotten it was so low that he had no reason to worry. And after Mr. Stark had heard him make a comment about needing someone to check his work, and he’d actually had the audacity to point it out to the man himself? Yeah right. His chances were probably laughable after that. Even if he’d been right - which he wasn’t even sure that he was - nobody took well to being corrected, especially when the person in question was Tony Stark. Taking criticism graciously seemed like an unlikely personality trait for him. 

He sighed as the cab pulled up at his apartment building, handing the driver his money and getting out. Oh well. At least he still had dinner with May to look forward to, and now that school was done for the summer - the tail end of this week had been the end of his exams; he wouldn’t even have thought about trying to do all of this while school was in session - he had all of the summer to look forward to hanging around town and slinging some webs whenever he felt like it. May still had to work normal hours during the week, so he would basically be free to do whatever he wanted all summer and not have to worry about hiding his comings and goings from her near as much. He could be Spider-Man as often as he wanted to - except on the weekends.

When he entered the apartment that he shared with his aunt, the first thing that caught his attention was the smell of food. Something different, as he couldn’t quite pinpoint what type of food it was, but maybe that had something to do with the fact it smelled… well, like it was burning. And it reeked to his heightened senses. 

“May?” Peter stepped inside, closing the door and plugging his nose. 

Her head popped out from around the corner. “Hey kiddo. How was the interview? Did it go well?” 

Peter walked deeper inside cautiously, looking around. Now that he was where he could see past the wall, he could see that the kitchen area had filled with some nasty dark smoke, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “It was great, yeah. I think I did okay. You, uh…” he gestured to the stove, where a pan sitting on top appeared to be the source of the smoke, although whatever was in it was unrecognizable to him. “Trying to cook again?” 

May sighed, brushing past him into the living area to open their two tiny windows. “Yeah. I just wanted to try to make you a nice meal, you know, to celebrate, but… I’m still working on my array of dishes, you know, and this was definitely a failed experiment.” She turned back to him once she’d opened them both, putting her hands on her hips. “So, my nerves are officially shot for the night, but we can do some takeout or something instead. Wherever you want to go, just let me know.” 

He laughed a little, feeling a burst of affection for his aunt. He gave her a quick hug, to which she blinked, surprised, before hugging him back. “Sounds good, May. Thank you. I’ll- I’ll let you know where I want to go shortly. I just want to shower and get out of this suit, if you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all. Just let me know whenever you’re ready.” 

Peter nodded, releasing her and heading back to his room. As soon as the door had closed behind him, he pulled off his tie, beginning to strip off the suit. It was nice, granted, and it wasn’t exactly completely uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comfy, either. He didn’t know how people like Tony could practically live in these things some days. Course, it probably helped that Tony had the money for a nice suit, and his wasn’t a cheap, itchy knockoff from a downtown thrift store. Oh well. 

He hung it back up in his closet, then went to shower and change for dinner. He was going to have a good night with his aunt and put all these thoughts and worries behind him. Whatever happened was going to happen, and it was out of his hands now. He’d find out soon enough. 

#the internship #thewritingcaptain #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark and peter parker #irondad #irondad fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #spider-man #iron man #mcu au #alternate universe #mcu alternate universe #irondad and spiderson fanfiction

[thewritingcaptain]

A Failed Homecoming: Chapter 2

He had no qualms about giving him the money - regardless of if he got it back or not, he certainly wasn't lacking in it - but more so about the aftermath of that. He didn't really want to let the guy escape, but he didn't really have the time to fight him if it wasn't necessary. If he went in there and the guy genuinely would let him walk out of there with the kid, he'd have to hand over the money and go. He couldn't in good conscience stay long enough to get his hands dirty, not with Peter bleeding out in a corner.

Notes: This chapter does contain some torture, though it’s not gory or excessively violent. Peter is electrocuted and eventually has a seizure. None of it is described in excessive detail, but it is mentioned. So trigger warning for that. And maybe some mild cursing. If you’re okay with all that, read on, and I hope you enjoy!

The next half hour or so was a blur for Tony.

At some point, he found his suit, and suddenly it was just on, and he didn't even remember doing it. Then he spent the next 15 minutes or so pacing while he waited for Pepper and Hogan to retrieve what he'd sent them to.

He couldn't sit still. His mind was racing. He'd never had to deal with a ransom demand before, exactly, but he'd had Pepper abducted once. He'd been forced to make decisions for the good of the many over what was best for her, and he'd nearly lost her for it. He didn't intend to come close to that again. This time it was just Peter on the line, and nothing was going to stop him from getting him back, even if it meant he had to tear this guy from limb to limb, with or without his suit.

What was worse was that he'd tried to warn him about this. And Tony hadn't even deemed him enough of a threat to go after him himself; he'd sent the FBI to do it, knowing full well their history of incompetence. He'd scolded Peter for trying to stop him. Because he was afraid of this, yes - but that didn't stop it from happening, and it certainly didn't stop this guy from going back after Peter as soon as he didn't have the means to protect himself. And that was most definitely his fault.

He couldn't shake the image of the kid's bloody face from his head. He just kept seeing it flash in front of him, seeing him slumped and unconscious, bleeding out, waiting-

"Tony!"

He whirled. Pepper and Happy were quickly approaching, lugging two bags - one large duffel, presumably with the money, and a smaller one over his shoulder, presumably with clothes for Peter. "This is it," Happy told him, handing him both bags. He took them both, pulling the duffel over his head, then the smaller backpack across his shoulders. "You're wired up?"

"Same as always." He retracted his mask as Pepper approached, letting his arms go around her instinctively as she hugged him. "Friday will signal you if I need back up." He kissed Pepper on the head, then pushed her off gently and stepped away, starting to lift off the ground.

"Should I call May?" Happy asked.

Tony shook his head. "No. Not yet. You'll just worry her when we don't have all the information. Once I get him back we'll decide how to handle it." He slid the mask back into place. "I'll see you soon." He boosted the throttle, flying towards the door.

"Keep in touch," Happy called after him. Tony spun in the air to face them long enough to throw a mock salute backwards before rocketing into the sky.

"Friday, you ready for this?" His eyes flicked through all the stats.

"As ever, sir. What can do I?"

"Pinpoint me Peter Parker's location and send me the quickest way there."

It was silent except for a dull hum for a moment as he worked, and then the flight plan popped onto the screen in front of his eyes. "The quickest way is to fly in a straight diagonal path southeast. You will have to veer a bit at the end to find the warehouse. At the recommended speed, arrival time is approximately 38 minutes."

"Top speed?" Recommended speed be damned right now. He'd flown at top speed many a time before against recommendation, and it hadn't killed him yet.

"Approximately 22 minutes. But sir, you know I have to advise against it."

"I don't really care what you're advising right now, Friday. A kid's life is on the line. Now kick it."

The throttle roared to full capacity, and he shot through the night like a speeding bullet. I'm coming for you, kid. Just hold on.

Approximately 20 agonizing minutes later, Tony was hovering a few hundred feet in the air, looking down at the warehouse.

This was it. He was here, and the best plan of action he had was to go in and try not to let himself go red with anger and kill this guy.

He had no qualms about giving him the money - regardless of if he got it back or not, he certainly wasn't lacking in it - but more so about the aftermath of that. He didn't really want to let the guy escape, but he didn't really have the time to fight him if it wasn't necessary. If he went in there and the guy genuinely would let him walk out of there with the kid, he'd have to hand over the money and go. He couldn't in good conscience stay long enough to get his hands dirty, not with Peter bleeding out in a corner.

He'd just have to trust that the trackers he'd had added to the bag would be enough to lead the authorities to him, or for him to come back and finish the job later, if it came to that.

Tony touched down on the ground and closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself. "Friday, retract the suit into the gauntlet, but be ready to deploy on a second's notice."

"You got it, boss." The suit began to fold in on itself, the different bits of nanotech rolling across his body and disappearing into the gauntlet. He adjusted his sleeve to hide most of it and trusted the darkness to do the rest, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking inside slowly.

It was indeed incredibly dark inside the warehouse. The only light sources really appeared to be a few dimly lit bulbs scattered throughout the building, and a few windows that let in the moonlight.

It was enough for Tony to see exactly what he needed to. It didn't take long to locate Peter, tied to one of the support beams across the warehouse. The boy appeared to be still unconscious, which wasn't surprising considering his head was still trickling blood, and on closer inspection he could see more on the side of his shirt, and the awkward angle his leg appeared to be twisted in. Great. His injuries were extensive, then, just as Tony had suspected. That suggested some sort of fight, at least. On one hand, he was proud the kid had lasted long enough in a fight to sustain those injuries, but on the other, he wished he didn't have to be in that scenario at all. Maybe when this was over, he'd try to rectify that.

He hadn't realized he'd started moving toward the kid until a voice said, "Ah ah ah. Not another step, Stark, or we can add something to that list of injuries you already see."

Tony stopped in place. The voice was coming from above. He glanced up, trying to locate a source, but it was too dark to see very far. "Still hiding, are we? Too afraid to face me like a man?"

"Not hiding. Just waiting." The man who called himself Vulture dropped from the ceiling, landing between Tony and Peter. He was wearing a gauntlet similar to Tony's on his hand, but much bigger, and obviously made to hurt. He could see the electricity it commanded, flickering in wait. He could also see the glowing weapon that he was holding in his other hand, clearly one of the illegal ones made from alien tech that the kid had been talking about.

Tony's eyes lingered on the gauntlet for a moment, knowing instinctively that that was what he'd used to shock Peter. He'd have that thing destroyed, if he had any say in it. Then he forced his eyes away, back to the man in the dark leather suit. "Nice costume." He cocked his head, nodding to the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder. "I've got your money."

"Good. Take it off and send it over here. Nice and slow, or I'll fry the kid again right here." He held out the fist with the gauntlet on it in Peter's direction. Great. So the thing shot electricity too.

Tony's eyes flicked to him instinctively, and he pressed his lips together, knowing saying anything would just make this situation worse. He slowly pulled his hands from his pockets, grabbing the duffel with one hand and holding it out towards him. "How do you want me to do this?"

Vulture regarded him for a moment, one arm still held out towards Peter. Then he jerked his head to the side, indicating a table on the opposite wall to the one Peter was tied to. "Take it over there. And keep your hands where I can see them."

Tony looked at Peter again, then back to the villain before slowly starting that direction. He set the duffel on the table, conscious of being monitored at all times. Slowly, he raised his hands, showing him they were empty.

It was the wrong move, apparently. "Do you think I'm stupid, Stark?" His voice was dangerously low, and Tony knew immediately he'd made a mistake. This guy had something in those weird ass goggles of his that was helping him see - meaning he saw well enough to notice the gauntlet on Tony's right hand.

"N-"

He didn't even wait for Tony to finish the word. He fired a beam of electricity from the gauntlet, right at Peter.

The effect was instantaneous, and so was Peter's scream.

He was screaming almost before he was conscious.

He'd been drifting in and out since he'd first woken up, and by now he'd realized that something was seriously wrong with him. The fuzziness in his head had only worsened, and he was starting to suspect that the lack of feeling in his limbs was from more than just being tied up. The utter lack of any type of response or even sensation, coupled with the fact that he still couldn't see even though he was sure his eyes were open had his suspicions growing, only he was too fuzzy to actually figure out what it meant or what had happened. Getting to this point was a blur.

Being electrocuted was enough to refocus reality for sure. Physical sensation be damned, but there was no way for him not to feel this. It was a particular feeling, and it was inside his body as well as out, magnified a hundred times through every part of him. And he couldn't writhe, couldn't move even the slightest bit-

All he could do was lay there and take it.

Some small, still functional corner of his mind picked up on the fact that he wasn't the only one screaming. The voice was familiar, undeniably, but he couldn't focus enough through the pain to be certain of anything more than the fact that it was a male voice.

"Stop! Stop!" The tormented scream was almost loud enough to match his own.

And suddenly it was over. Peter's body melted instantly, unable to so much as form anything more than a soft moan. How was it he couldn't feel anything on the outside, but the pain was still just as bad?

"I gave you what you wanted, now leave him be."

Could it be? No. He was insane. It was the pain. There was no way…

"Oh, but I had to do something, Stark. I told you not to bring the suit, didn't I?"

Stark. Tony. Oh no. Tony had come for him? The small part of his brain that was still functioning was both relieved and terrified by this turn of events. Why did he come for him? How did he know he even needed to? What had he given Vulture? Why would he have come without his suit? Then the more panicked thoughts started to roll in. Oh, he was going to be in so much trouble. How did he find him? How much did he know about what had happened, and what would he say when he found out? They'd already been on rough terms after what happened with the ferry. The likelihood that Mr. Stark was going to let this go was not very good at all.

Even through his haze of pain, he was smart enough for that thought to scare him almost as bad as he was afraid of what was happening right now. He just had to survive what was happening right now long enough for it to make sense to be afraid.

The situation was out of his hands, and his injuries soon started to cloud his mind again as he lay there. All rational thought started to dissipate as he started to sink back into his mind and grew dangerously closer to succumbing to his injuries. It was all he could do to hold on to the edges of consciousness, knowing and holding on to the thought with his last ounce of power that if he passed out again right now, he might not wake up.

And so he laid there and waited.

No no no no no no no no.

Tony had seen a lot of things in his time, especially since becoming Iron Man, and he'd caused a lot of people a lot of pain, directly and inadvertently.

Nothing compared to this.

Watching the boy he'd so callously left to his own devices get tortured in front of him was the worst thing he'd ever had to endure. It was unbearable.

"No! No! Stop! Stop!" He hardly realized the words had torn from his own throat in that moment. All he knew was that it took every ounce of his self restraint not to throw himself between this monster and his kid, and the only thing holding him back was that he knew it would only turn into something worse if he did.

He nearly collapsed with relief when Vulture lowered the gauntlet, and he saw Peter just melt back into the pole behind him, breathing hard and letting out a low moan.

There was murder in his eyes when he refocused on Vulture. "I gave you what you wanted. Now leave him be."

Vulture simply cocked his head at him, lowering his arm slowly. "Oh, but I had to do something, Stark. I told you not to bring the suit, didn't I?"

"I didn't!" The gauntlet shot back up, and Tony threw his hands up quickly. "Wait! Don't do it. You're right, I did, but you didn't leave me any choice. You said alone and fast and a suit was the best solution. I took it off before coming in, didn't I?" This wasn't going at all how he wanted it to.

The other man just stared at him, his head still tilted as he studied him. "Take it off."

"It is off."

"Completely, Stark."

"I can't, I- No!" Vulture had raised the gauntlet again before he'd even finished, and Peter's screams filled the warehouse again. Tony took a shuddering breath and stumbled forward a bit, the panic in his system overriding his better judgement for a moment. "I can't, I can't, I have to get us out of here somehow!"

Vulture hadn't even broken eye contact with him, seemingly unbothered by the teen's anguish. "You can put it on again when I'm gone. Now take it off, or I'll double the power here."

Tony didn't hesitate. His hands were shaking with panic and adrenaline that he had no chance of hiding, but he ignored it the best he could as he worked it off and held the gauntlet up.

Vulture jerked his chin in the opposite direction. "Toss it away."

Tony threw it over his shoulder, holding both now bare hands up. "There! Now stop it!"

The electricity cut off, and Peter's screams died with it, his whole body going rigid and spasming for a moment before relaxing again. The boy couldn't even muster the energy to make a sound to whatever was happening, it seemed.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment. Medical science wasn't his area of expertise, but he knew a seizure when he saw one. They were running out of time. "You got what you wanted," he told Vulture, his voice unexpectedly hoarse when he spoke. He didn't bother trying to clear it. "Now go. Or at least let me take the boy and leave."

Vulture lowered the gauntlet, regarding Tony for another long moment before nodding once. "Don't move," he warned as he stepped away, his wings folding out from behind him and expanding as he moved across the warehouse, grabbing the duffel full of money. "I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark, but we both know that's not true. But here's to hoping we don't meet again." And then he jumped, his wings catching him in the air, and he swooped right out the entrance of the warehouse.

He'd barely cleared the doorway before Tony was moving, snatching up the gauntlet as quick as he could before dashing madly over to Peter. "Kid!" He slid up to him on his knees, looking around wildly for the bonds holding him in place. Thankfully it was a simple rope that secured his hands behind the pole - something Peter could have easily escaped from had he been conscious and at full strength - and Tony severed it easily with a mild shot from his hand. The suit was already reforming around him. Clearly Friday had been monitoring the conversation from inside and had taken the cue himself on return to contact with Tony's body. "Peter! Come on, kid, can you hear me?"

All he got in response was a tiny sound that he wasn't even sure if it was a groan or a whimper. It was enough for Tony to know he was still alive, and that was enough for him at the moment. He scooped him up, wincing as a hoarse scream tore from the kid's throat. Oh, he was hurt, and those shocks would be enough to leave anyone tender, but he didn't really have another choice. It would hurt no matter who moved him and leaving him there was not an option.

He cradled the kid to his chest and kicked up the throttle. "Hang on, kid. I got you. You're going to be okay." He had no idea if he could even hear him, let alone comprehend what he was saying through the pain, but saying so made him feel a little better at least.

Maybe if he said it enough times he could convince himself of it.

A low growl building in his throat, Tony shot into the air, heading for the nearest hospital.

#a failed homecoming #thewritingcaptain #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman homecoming #tony stark #peter parker #marvel cinematic universe alternate universe #marvel cinematic universe au #au #mcu au #spiderman homecoming au #irondad #irondad and spiderson #irondad fanfiction #irondad fanfic #kidnapping #ransom #peter parker whump

[thewritingcaptain]

A Failed Homecoming (Chapter 3)

It was time to call May and tell her what had happened - the abridged version of it, anyway. He would need her permission to handle some of the paperwork in the aftermath of this anyway, and he couldn't keep this from her any longer. He just hoped she didn't try to keep Peter from him when she found out.

The next few hours were some of the most agonizing of his life.

By the time Tony had reached the nearest hospital, the kid was limp and lifeless in his arms - with the exception of the occasional seizure, of course. He was glad for the suit, because without it, he might not have been able to hold on to him at all, let alone with as hard as he himself was shaking.

He still had the bag with the clothes strapped onto his back, but there was no time to change him, and little need for it anymore. The outfit that had once passed for his old suit was unrecognizable now, between the blood soaking it, the various rips and tears in it, and the fact it was half disintegrated from the electrocutions. Even Tony himself wouldn't have known what he was wearing if he hadn't seen the video of him in it before his arrival.

At least he didn't have to lie to the paramedics about what happened as he dropped the kid in the ER. It was simple enough to cover up his involvement as Spider-Man by simply saying that he had been abducted to use against him because of a presumed relationship they had, and the reasons behind Tony bringing him in and the circumstances surrounding the injuries were soon forgotten by the medical personnel when he told them exactly how he'd gotten them and what he'd been through.

Now, Tony sat in the waiting room, alone, pacing back and forth as he waited to hear some kind of news. He'd already called Pepper and Happy to let them know that he had the kid and to tell them to alert the police about the Vulture's escape, but he didn't have any more information for them than that. And he was so not looking forward to calling May. He still hadn't done so, largely because he didn't want to call her simply with news of what had happened but no explanation of Peter's condition. There was no point in calling until he knew something.

It was an agonizing few hours that he spent pacing that small waiting room, waiting desperately for news of the kid. When a doctor finally came out of the double doors to talk to him, he practically leapt at her.

The news she carried wasn't good, but it wasn't the worst case scenario, either. He was damaged, yes, but he was alive. Damaged he could work with; dead, on the other hand, he could not.

He allowed himself to be escorted to the room they were keeping him in and nodded to the nurses before coming in. What greeted him wasn't a pretty sight.

The kid was absolutely plastered with tubes and machines. He had one attached to both his chest and his head, an IV in one arm, an oxygen mask strapped onto his face, and a leg casted and placed into one of those hanging slings to keep it elevated above his heart. That was just what Tony could see. Under his gown, he knew there was at least one open wound in his side and a few broken ribs that had been wrapped, and his head was also swaddled in bandages on the one side. Lord only knew what else.

But he was alive, and breathing on his own, and that was enough for now. Tony took a steadying breath as he seated himself in the hospital chair and pulled out his phone. It was time to call May and tell her what had happened - the abridged version of it, anyway. He would need her permission to handle some of the paperwork in the aftermath of this anyway, and he couldn't keep this from her any longer.

He just hoped she didn't try to keep Peter from him when she found out.

Taking a deep breath again, he pulled out his phone and placed the call.

May picked up on the second ring, despite not knowing his number. Maybe she was just desperate enough to know where he'd gotten off to by that point that she was answering all the calls. "Hello?"

The panic in her voice broke his heart, as did the fact that he was going to have to solidify it. "May, this is Tony Stark. Do you remember me?" Not the best way to start off, maybe, but better than just blurting out the news.

"Mr. Stark? Listen, with all due respect, I'm in the middle of something right now, so-"

"I know." He closed his eyes. "Peter is missing. I'm with him now, though. I found him. Or rather…" he swallowed. This was the tricky part. "His captor found me."

May was so quiet on the other end of the line for a moment that he was genuinely worried that she'd either passed out or had some kind of heart attack. "May?" he asked cautiously.

"I-... I'm here." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "What's going on, Tony?"

"Before I tell you that, let me just tell you that he's hurt, but he's with me now and he's gonna be okay. Okay? Can you trust me on that much?"

"Where is he?"

Tony hissed through his teeth. "We're in the hospital. But he's alright, remember?" he added quickly at the pained noise from the other side. "I'd tell you which one, but it's out of state and I don't actually know. I just got him to the quickest one as fast as I could."

"What happened to him?" Her voice broke slightly, and something in his chest seemed to crack at the sound. He may well have a heart attack before this day was over.

"I…" Tony stopped, trying to think of the best way to put it. He couldn't give her the whole truth, not yet, not until Peter was ready to tell her, which he clearly hadn't been, and he couldn't add that to her pain right now anyway. As furious as he himself was with Peter for putting himself in harm's way, he didn't need May to be as well. It was better for her to think the blame was all on him. "Peter was abducted. Someone knew of his connection with me because of the internship and tried to ransom him back to me." There. Not good, but close enough to the truth.

"Oh, Peter." He could hear the tears in her voice, and suddenly he found himself blinking back a few of his own. No, he wasn't going to cry. Not here, not right now. "How did you know? How did you get him back?"

"I… was at the Tower when the guy called me off of Peter's phone. I tracked it to them, gave the guy the money." So much more had happened than that, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her half of what had happened in between.

"How much?"

"It doesn't matter. Trust me when I say it was pocket change for me, May. I just… I would have given anything to get him back, alright? It honestly doesn't matter." He looked down, picking some imaginary lint off his pants, just to have something to focus on that wasn't the flashbacks of the kid's face while he was in pain, or his broken body in front of him. "This whole thing is my fault, May, and I am… so sorry for what happened that I can't even express it. If I had ever thought for a minute that this could happen…" He didn't even know what to say. He would have spared no expenses to keep him safe. "I would have done everything in my power to make sure it didn't. And if you don't want him to continue with the internship, then I completely understand, and I will respect that." Even if it kills me. "I just… would still like to be allowed to check up on him, if you don't mind."

"Oh, Tony." Her voice broke again, and he knew she was crying on the other side. "I would never keep you from seeing him, and I could never take the internship away from him, either. Working with you means so much to him." Funny, considering he had no idea what he did when he said he was interning with him, but now wasn't the time or the place to reveal that. "The fact that you can even say half of what you just did is enough to tell me everything I need to know."

Some of the tension drained from his body as he processed the relief. "Thank you, May. I honestly don't know what else to say. Apologizing won't change what happened, but I can assure you it will never happen again."

"I know it won't. And it's not your fault, Tony. You couldn't have known this would happen. I'm just so grateful that you got to him in time." She stopped for a moment, and he waited patiently, knowing she was trying just as hard to keep her composure as he was. "How is he? Do you know anything yet?"

"Yes, I talked to the doctor right before I called you." He sat back in the chair, staring at Peter's nearly obscured form. "It's a long list," he warned quietly.

"Just tell me."

Tony closed his eyes. "As of right now, he has a broken leg, broken foot, a few broken ribs, a wound in his side, and a concussion. They think he's having sensory issues due to nerve damage, and they detected a mild cardiac arrhythmia that should straighten itself out." Hopefully, if the kid could go more than a few hours without being shocked. "And… he's having seizures."

"Cardiac distress? Seizures? Nerve damage?" Her voice was so high that he winced slightly. "What the hell happened to him?"

He wet his lips, looking down. "Sources say he tried to fight off the guy who abducted him. Nasty fight, some nasty conks to the head, probably where most of the wounds come from, although we won't be sure until he wakes up. And…" this was the worst. Why did he have to tell her this? "I… think he may have been shocked once or twice." Or three or four times. And electrocution was closer to accurate of what he experienced than a small shock, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her that.

"Oh, God." She was really crying now. "What makes you think that?"

"The symptoms, and, well…" he closed his eyes again, his face contorting as he tried to block out the pain himself. "I may have seen it happen."

"How many times?"

The shaking in his voice mirrored hers as he answered. "Twice." His voice was barely a whisper. It was all he could manage. "It was probably the most horrible thing I've ever seen." Tied right up there with believing he'd watched Pepper fall to her death.

They were both quiet for a long minute. The only sound was May sniffling softly as she tried to get herself together. Finally, she said, "I'm so sorry, Tony. But thank you so much for what you did. He's… he's like my son."

Tony stood up slowly, walking over to the kid and looking down at him. He longed to reach out and touch him, but he knew it would just hurt him. "Yeah. Mine too."

Again, that horrible silence. "How is he?"

"I don't know if I can say fine, considering his injuries, but he's doing alright. He's unconscious but stable. They're keeping him sedated until they can figure out where the seizures are coming from and what to do about it." His eyes flicked to the nodes attached to the kid's head before he forced them away again.

"Will they be permanent?"

"I don't know yet." He shook his head. "They've all been short and lower level, which is a good sign. It could be a result of the shocks or the concussion or both. There's no way to tell yet."

"When can I see him?"

Tony sighed heavily. "I don't know. I want to get him out of here, at least to a better hospital, but I'm trying to let them get all the preliminary stuff done, at least. I don't want to risk moving him before he's ready. And I would like to see him wake up first." He paused. "I'll probably need your permission for a lot of that. They took him because of his state and they've only given me as much as they have because I brought him," and because he was Tony freaking Stark and no one dared challenge him, "But legally they shouldn't have. If I start trying to give orders they'll want your consent."

"Of course. If you figure out where you're at and text me the number, I'll call in and get it handled." She paused for a minute. "But one more thing before you go."

"Anything," he responded without hesitation.

"I… Do you have a plan for when he gets out? I still have to work, and I don't think I'll have the time to give him the care and attention he'll need. I can't afford not to go."

Shit. He had been so worried about the here and now he hadn't really thought about letting the kid go home and what would happen once he got there. He really didn't want him out of his sight again, which he knew was completely infeasible but not an illogical response to what had happened.

And May… she was right. Of course, it wasn't as though he couldn't fund them plenty for as long as she needed to be off work, but she didn't seem like the type of woman who took handouts well, and if he had to guess, her job was probably one of the few things holding her together at this point. He knew that feeling.

He also knew that he didn't want to leave him. In his mind, he knew there was a seemingly simple solution to both of these problems, but… was he ready for that? Most days he could hardly take care of himself, let alone the kid. And what would happen if the other Avengers showed up at the tower? And with the move… how could he balance that, honestly?

"I…" He swallowed thickly. He could figure all that out later, if May even said yes. Peter was the most important thing right now. "I could take him."

"What?"

"I mean, he could stay with me. Most of the time, I mean. You know, until he's better. You'd still have full access to him, of course, and I'm not exactly experienced with taking care of someone, I admit, but between Pepper and Happy and I, we could figure out. Take shifts, or something." He was rambling, he knew, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth he was struck with an overwhelming fear that he'd overstepped, and that May would change her mind about him even being able to see him, so he found himself fumbling to justify his offer.

"Oh. Oh." May stopped for a moment, and he thought his heart stopped too. "That's really kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"It's not asking. I'm offering." He looked down at him, reaching up and brushing the kid's hair from his face, careful to avoid touching his skin. "I'd be thrilled to have him. Besides, it's the least I could do, considering this whole thing is my fault." Which was all the more reason she'd be justified in saying no.

May went silent, and he said nothing, knowing nothing else he could say would do much for her. "Alright, then," she said at last. "Let me know when you're on your way back to the city, then. I'll meet you at the Tower?"

"That sounds great. I'll keep you updated, May."

"Thank you." He knew those two words went so much deeper and were for more than just promising to keep her updated.

"Anytime," he said, and meant it. Then she hung up, and he lowered the phone, staring at it for a long minute before putting it away.

He'd done everything he could. Now all that was left to do was sit there and wait.

#irondad #thewritingcaptain #au #spiderman au #spiderman homecoming au #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe au #irondad fanfiction #iron dad #irondad and spiderson #a failed homecoming

[dreadwvlfscript]

Tagged By: @bookenders​, thank you!!

Tagging: @ofinscriptions​ @thel3tterm​ @oliverorchestrates​ @thewritingcaptain​ @danielleslayer​ @kateslayer​ @minnowf​ @mischiefiswritten​ @writeness​ and anyone I may have missed!!

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Lucky number: 27 is a solid one! Or 18.

Wearing: Sandals, jeans, and my Halloween-themed Ghost shirt. 

Dream job: An author is the ideal, but I’m also working toward a career as a detective. We’ll see what happens first. :)

Dream trip: Hmmm, probably Scotland or Iceland. I’d really like to look at old castles and cathedrals, so probably just a Eurotrip in general.

Instruments: I...know how to play absolutely zero, but I’ve been wanting to learn banjo.

Languages: English, a smidgen of Spanish and German. My mom’s side is full German so I’ve picked up a little bit.

Favorite songs: Ooo, that’s a hard one. Probably Gold Dust Woman by Fleetwood Mac, The March of Mephisto by Kamelot, Meet Me in the Woods by Lord Huron, and Witch Image by Ghost. They change all the time, honestly.

Random fact: I have a small gathering of rescue kitties.

Aesthetic: Adidas goth, comfy sweatpants and big coffees, black shirts with cat hair, hours lost (or really, found) in a bookstore, the intense clicking of a keyboard during the mid-game rush, vague and distant alarms, true crime books with sticky notes, three separate stacks of books on your nightstand. Something eldritch but soft.

#ripley's radio #tag games #thank you!!

[capshorty]

21 21 Tag Game

I was tagged by @pennedin here on my main blog and by @awakeingdreamer on my writeblr @thewritingcaptain! Ill post this on both. Thanks for the tag! :D

Nickname: Cap, Smidget, or Shorty

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 4′11″

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Last thing googled: Tom Holland, because I just saw the new Spider-Man and my insane crush on him has been renewed. Also I wanted to know how many of the new Marvel movies he’s been in because I thought I had missed one.

Favorite musicians: Hillsong, Citizens, Stromae, Zaz, Elevation Worship, Phil Wickham, Faith Hill, Pentatonix... I could keep going on, but I’ll stop here. 

Song that’s been stuck in my head: Hm. Recently, I’d have to say... either Your Love Awakens Me by Phil Wickham, or Faithful, from Elevation Worship, because I’m on the heels of church camp and those two songs have really stuck with me. 

Following: 272 blogs of random things, based on my interests. 

Followers: 61, although I know some of those are spam and I just don’t know how to remove them. 

Do you get asks?: Sometimes. I get tagged in tag games more than anything, which is also fine with me!

Amount of sleep: Is this what I get or what I need? Because I normally get 5 or so hours, if I’m lucky. I would love to be getting the recommended 8 hours though. 

Lucky Number: 21. 

Wearing: A robe, because I’m sick and don’t feel like putting real clothes on. 

Dream Job: Author and/or editor. 

Dream Trip: I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland and Canada. Either of those would be dream for me. 

Instruments: Well, I have many, many guitars, but I never learned how to play them. So just my voice. 

Languages: I speak English and I took 4 years of French in high school. I wouldn’t consider myself fluent by any means, but I can get by with it. 

Favorite Songs: Oooh, Lord, this could go on forever. If I pick a few, I’d have to go with something from each type I listen to. Resurrecting, by Elevation Worship, Lead Me To The Cross, by Hillsong UNITED, Made Alive, by Citizens, All The Way, by Jacksepticeye, Papaoutai, by Stromae, The Sound of A Million Dreams, by David Nail, Hallelujah, by Pentatonix, and anything from Mamma Mia, Pitch Perfect, or the Sound of Music. 

Random Fact: My taste in music is everything from worship to Disney to video game soundtracks to Eminem to instrumental to Broadway. I basically listen anything that’s not screamo. 

Aesthetic: Earthy colors, comfy sweaters, combat boots, muted sunsets, old castles, crumbling stone walls crawling with ivy, new book smell, quiet background music, clicking of a keyboard, abandoned treehouses, running with the wolves, the scratching of a pen on paper. 

Tagging: @mischiefiswritten, @thel3tterm, @the-evanescent-inkwell, @minnowf​, @mistbornvinventure​, @hoofgirl​, @arrowdeirdre​, @shadowfire71-writes​, @wordsofpaintandsmoke​, @shattered-starrs​, @writeness​

#tag game #21 #21 21 #21 21 tag game #tag games