The Search
“Fri? Run through that footage again,” Tony murmured. He watched his son come out of an alley, walk a few blocks, and disappear into another alley. Then walk back. With a limp.
Tony searched both alleyways. Both were connectors, leading to a string of other alleyways, none of which had cameras. No heat signatures in any of them. He stayed in the last alleyway his son was seen going into, and started to review the footage again. He had to find his son.
The sun was starting to set, and Tony was getting more anxious by the minute. This particular alley was relatively quiet, with small apartment buildings on either side. He really needed to fund a program for cameras in every fucking alleyway in New York. This was absolutely ridiculous.
It was a good ten minutes before Tony got a call from Peter.
“Hey, uh- Mr. Stark? Karen says you're in Queens and-”
“Kid-” Tony started, unsure what to say.
“Am I in trouble?” Peter bursts out before Tony can get another word in edgewise. Tony would have laughed had he not been in the middle of searching for his son whom he has somehow lost before he even fucking met the kid-
“...Tony?” Peter called hesitantly, sensing something was off. Tony could practically see Peter anxiously bouncing his leg and his hand fiddling with something to keep himself busy, likely a pen.
“I-No, kid, you're not in trouble. I'm just looking for something,” Tony replied, still scanning the footage, trying to see if there was anything he missed.
“Sorry, it's just…it seemed weird, y’know?”
“What seemed weird?” Tony replied absentmindedly, zooming in on the CCTV camera's fuzzy and pixelated black eye that his son apparently had.
“Well I mean I was just there so I totally thought you were looking for me, so I had Karen check my vitals and communication systems cause I thought for sure you-”
“Wait, back up kid. You were here? Around thirty minutes ago?” Tony questioned.
“Yeah? A British kid was getting mugged,” Peter mumbled into the phone, starting to get a foreboding feeling.
“Hey Mr. Stark, that thing you were looking for, it wasn't…” Peter trailed off.
“Yes, Peter. I'm looking for that kid. My kid,”
“HOLY SHIT-”