At Fault
Tony’s POV
Tony occasionally considered hanging up the suit and taking a lengthy vacation far from everyone and everything. He imagined himself lounging on a plush beach and taking in the waves, sitting alone and hearing nothing but the sounds of birds. He might be daring and dip his toes into the refreshing, endless ocean. Even though he disliked the water, he had to agree that it was beautiful when it was serene and still. He contemplated whether he would finally experience some calm and peace as the sea glistened in the sunlight and appeared to be almost magical...
He goes back to this beach in his mind when there are a lot of things going on, like sitting next to his teammates who won't stop talking and squabbling. He travels there even though it would be some time before he can fulfil this desire. The weight on his heart occasionally subsides just by believing, for once, that everything will be okay. Maybe his therapist was on to something.
When some people are around there’s no need to retreat to the beach. Because with their presence and their comfort, he’s already there. So to speak. Their laughter is the only sound he needs, and the way they make him feel is the same way as the calm, soothing, waves. The waves which come closer after time. These people are Pete, Pepper and Rhodey. When he knows they’re safe, and here, he can breathe, and the chronic pain takes a back seat for the day. It’s never gone for good, creeping back when they leave, and the memories of his good day start to seep away. When the nightmares return and the urge to drink and fly away comes back, it’s there. But he knows that it’ll go soon, and that takes him through the night.
Currently Tony is sat in his favourite chair, watching the team squabble over which film would be the best. They go through this every time Steve makes them do one of these things, and Tony’s seriously thinking about developing an AI that’ll just do it for them by mixing all their likes and dislikes and searching through thousands of hours to find the film. Friday could be probably do it, now that he thinks of it, but sometimes it’s entertaining to watch Steve’s shoulders slump when he realises that he can never beat Natasha in an argument.
Tony’s eyes are drawn to the door, and then to his watch, and then back to the door. Surely the kids have been gone for way too long if they’re only getting snacks. He tries Happy’s cell, but again- there’s no answer. He tries Peter’s. Straight to voicemail. Why would he have turned his phone off? He hopes it’s just out of battery, but deep down he knows that’s wrong. Peter’s phone is glued to him. He wouldn’t let it die. He gets agitated when it hits fifty. It’s just not like him for it to run out.
He tries Cooper’s next. And then even gets Ned’s. Nobody is answering. It’s complete radio silence.
It’s then he realises the conversation has stopped and he has many, many, eyes on him. He must be freaking out because all of them look concerned and drop whatever they’re doing to crowd around and ask what’s going on.
Tony feels the sweat on his forehead, on his arms and his legs. He can’t see who walks up to him as his vision goes blurry. He’s breathing in and out to the point where he can’t breathe. Someone tells him to slow down but he can’t, because Peter isn’t here, and he said he would be. Where was he? He was supposed to keep an eye on him. He told himself that he’d keep him safe no matter what, so why would he dare to let him out on his own?
Then the guilt comes. He was the one that said they could go out, so if he’s dead then this is all his fault. What if something happened to them? He could never face Clint again. He could never face himself. He panics, grasping for whoever is in front of him. He sees blue eyes and blonde hair and barely registers it’s Steve before he feels wetness on his cheeks. It’s weird because he could be overreacting but deep down, he knows. He knows something is wrong.
“Tony,” Steve tries desperately, clutching onto his shoulders as he breathes in and out and tries to get him to copy. It doesn’t work. “What do I do?” he says, turning his head slightly to face Natasha who’s watching on with a worried face. “Nat, how do I-“
“I don’t know,” Natasha says, “just keep him breathing, okay? I’ll call Pepper.”
Tony wants to scream. He wants to tell her not to, to leave Pepper alone. It’s not serious. His heart hasn’t given out on him yet, and this panic is based on presumptions. He’d look like such an idiot in front of everyone, plus Pep, if Peter walks through that door right now with his bag of sweets and that charming smile on his face.
He squeezes his eyes shut. He tells himself ‘Everything is okay’. He repeats this mantra over and over until he stops shaking and his heart manages to get itself under control. When he blinks and opens his eyes there is a glass of water beside him and a very worried looking super solider watching him. Tony takes a deep breath, and a sip of the water, and apologises to everyone in the room with a mumble.
Before any of them can reply, the door swings open and only two kids come running in alongside Happy. Tony begs whoever is listening that they just dropped Ned home or something, but he doesn’t see Peter come in. Maybe the kid’s bringing some bags in? Maybe they have a surprise planned. Maybe, just maybe, Tony doesn’t have to be right.
Or this is just one big nightmare.
“They got him,” Cooper cries, running over to his dad. “Dad, they got Peter and I didn’t know what to do- they just- they had him and then the van pulled away and Happy raced after it but we lost them and now I don’t know where he is and I’m freaking out.”
“Cooper, sh,” Clint interrupts. “We’ll find him, okay? I promise you. I won’t stop until we do.”
Cooper seeks the comfort of his father’s embrace, resting his head on Clint’s chest as he struggles to breathe. Just like how Tony just was. Tony watches, frozen, as Clint ruffles his son’s head and glances over at him. Tony listens as Clint whispers ‘it’s going to be okay’, to his son. He begs to differ. He wishes that Peter was underneath his arms, in his embrace, crying and screaming or even yelling at him and telling him how stupid he was. He just wanted him here.
He felt jealous that Clint was able to hug Cooper and hold him when Peter was alone and far, far, away. Somewhere Tony doesn’t know. Clint holds his son tighter and glances over. They make eye contact with each other. Tony has to look away before he says something he regrets. It’s not Clint’s fault, or Cooper’s. Hell, it’s not Peter’s or whoever took him. It’s his for not being good enough to keep him safe.
It's all his fault.
Tears began to rush down his face. He didn’t want his team to see him like twice in one evening, so he did what he did best. He fled. He got up from his seat so fast that the glass of water smashed and dripped over the floor. He ignored it and ran away, not wanting to hear the pleasantries of his team when they tell him that it’s okay and it wasn’t his fault.
They couldn’t lie about this, though, they all knew. It was why he didn’t get close to people- therefore he should’ve stayed away. He told himself that when Peter started to come over and the two of them got close. Everyone Tony met, who he loved, got hurt. It was inevitable. Some things just can’t change no matter how hard you may try.
Peter’s POV
These guys were amateurs.
Peter decided that before they even arrived at whatever evil base they were driving towards.
First, Peter had not been searched. They could have overlooked a chip in his neck, five phones, a watch that tracked his every step, or even a compact Iron Man JR suit that could kill them with a thought. After all, he was "Tony Stark's son." People must have assumed Tony would have a strategy in place for this very scenario given how guarded he was about his cars. Yes, he didn't, but they didn’t know that!
Second, they were talking about their plan very loudly. Peter now knew what they intended to do to him, to say, and just how much money they were willing to tear away from Tony’s bank account. Psh, like Tony would ever say ‘yes’ to people like them. He’d tell them to piss off, and by the time they finished talking Peter would’ve burned down their operations and stopped them from kidnapping anymore kids in the future.
It was fool proof! Right?
“Hey,” Peter said, looking over to the other kid who was sat against the side of the van. He watched Peter like he was a scared mouse, his knees up to his chest and his eyes so wide Peter thought they might pop out. He was shaking and clearly was scared to say anything, so Peter figured he’d lead the conversation for him. “What’s your name?”
No answer.
“Well, uh, I’m Peter,” he said. “…I’d tell you ‘everything is going to be fine’ but my uncle raised no liar,” Peter laughed. Watching the panic in the other boy’s eyes turn from frightened to utter terror made Peter cringe. He backtracked, “no- no I didn’t mean that, it’s going to be fine! We’re going to be fine, I one-hundred percent promise.”
He had his fingers crossed behind his back in case his promise meant absolutely nothing, and they ended up stuck in a cage for the rest of their lives… But, hey! Peter knew that was unlikely. He was Spider-Man! He could do anything. Tony had told him that once, as did Uncle Ben and Aunt May, so it had to be right. He just needed a plan.
“…Nice atmosphere, isn’t it?”
No response again. A few more minutes passed by.
“Entertainment is a bit shit, though. I’d only rate it three stars.”
….
“And that’s being generous.”
……..
“Really, really, generous. Because it’s small, the view is non-existent, and the staff are quite rude.”
………………
“Look, man, we’re stuck here, and I know it’s scary but you’re going to need to speak to me for me to help you. So, please, what’s your name?” Peter asked, quietly as not to arouse any suspicions from the two men driving the van. He got closer to the boy, putting his hand over his thigh, and giving him a supportive smile. “I do promise that I’ll take care of you, okay? I’m going to do my best to get us out of here.”
“It’s… Miles,” the young boy says, coming a bit out of his shell as he realises Peter is serious and that he could help him out of here. “Miles Morales, sir,” he adds, looking up at him with a certain admiration in his eyes that makes Peter feel weirdly powerful. He realises now why Tony likes to keep him around. The ‘hero worship’ really does make you feel like somebody else.
“No need for the sir, Miles. I’m just like you,” Peter says. He takes Miles’ hand and squeezes it, a comfort he knows is probably needed right now. Like a shy stray, it takes Miles a while to respond but a minute or so after he manages a small smile. “That’s it, I promise you that you’ll get out of here.”
Peter didn’t care if he ever got out. If he managed to free Miles, and whoever else they had locked up, then that would be enough. He’d go through years of torture and pain if it meant these kids didn’t have to. He was enhanced. There wasn’t much that they could do that would make him break. He’d do it for as long as he could, and he’d take it on his chin. He wouldn’t let them know if it hurt, even if his whole body was burning in the worst pain, because then they’d win. And Peter would never, ever, let someone like these men win even if it meant his release.
“How old are you, Miles?”
“Twelve.”
“You’re very brave,” Peter says, “if I was your age I’d be freaking out and crying and probably throwing up all over the place. I mean, even if you were then you’d still be cooler than me. I mean, look at the jacket.” Miles was wearing this coolest oversized jacket, looking much too big on his small frame. It was cute, like a toddler chose his dad’s jacket before going out to the park.
“…it’s my Dad’s.”
“That’s cool,” Peter smiles. He finally let’s go of Miles arms as he realises that he’s getting more comfortable. He scoots up beside him and sits beside Miles, his back leant up against the side of the truck. He stumbles a bit as they take a corner but recovers pretty quickly. “Who’s your dad? Would you say he’s well known?” Peter asks, wondering out of anyone why they’d take this little boy away from his family. He must be from some money otherwise they would’ve left him behind on the street to find a different kid to torture.
“He’s police chief, I think. Or- I guess he’s high up. Maybe not the chief. I don’t know,” Miles rambles. Peter watches. He wonders if this is what he’s like to other people. It’s endearing. Is it egotistical to say he sees why some people like him? What? The rambling’s cute. “I bet he’s going to find us. He always does. I know he will.”
“I reckon you might be right, Miles,” Peter smiles.
He really hopes he is… for the kid’s sake. If not, Peter’s got a lot of work to do.
Ten minutes later
The van stops suddenly, causing Peter and Miles to stumble in the back like loose change. Peter grabs Miles by the waist and stops him from hitting himself. He bangs into the side a few times himself, knowing by tomorrow there would be some bruises that would leave quickly afterwards. Once the rocking stops, he lets go and tensely watches the doors as he waits for them to open.
The doors open, and the light fades in. The guys from earlier walk up with their ridiculous outfits and grab the boys, putting another pair of handcuffs on them (after taking them off in the van, which, come on, was nice of them. See? Some criminals can be nice at times) before either of them can make a run for it. Which he wouldn’t do anyway. He’s not an idiot.
He’s just going to blow up their whole operations instead.
No biggie.
Peter tries to make sure he’s close to Miles, seeing tears prick at his eyes. The henchmen keep them apart, which is annoying, but he’s trying his hardest to ensure that Miles can still see him so he can mouth ‘we’ll be okay’. He’s saying that a lot today, but he’s sure he’s right.
The ‘base’ is not much of a base. In fact, outside it looks like an ordinary small house. They go inside and the interior is outdated, dirty and looks like nobody’s touched it in years. Peter would make a joke, but the cold suddenly hits him, and he shivers. The guy walking him smirks, happy that he’s ‘scared’. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.
They’re led to a back room and inside is a set of stairs that leads downstairs. Peter could gasp, he felt like he was in a film. One he’d make Ned watch daily when they were kids. These guys had an evil basement… Now, that was something he had to tell Ned whenever he got home. If he wasn’t in danger, he’d be buzzing right now.
When they get to the bottom, Peter looks around and winces. It’s worse than they thought. There are about five kids inside the room they’re throw into. Ranging from approximately the age of three to about fourteen, it seems as if he’s the oldest here which makes him feel even more protective than he had been in the first place. The cuffs are removed once again as they’re placed inside, followed by the door getting locked behind them.
“Hi,” Peter says, as he adjusts to the new place. The room is small and claustrophobic. The kids all have tears in their eyes and look at Miles and Peter like they’re in danger. The walls are painted black and feel like they’re closing in. There are scratches covering part of the wall. Peter wonders if that’s that a stylistic choice or if a kid went a little mad in here. “I’m Peter, this is Miles.”
Nobody else introduces themselves, most likely too exhausted and in pain to reply. He doesn’t push like he did earlier with Miles, knowing they’ve been here longer than he could know and that it’s not a good idea to come rushing in here and telling them it’s all okay. He doesn’t feel like he has the right and it doesn’t seem like a clever plan. It wouldn’t make him the most popular, not that he’s ever been, but he thinks they deserve a break. Even from his rambling.
He sits there, on the cold floor, and urges his mind to think of a plan. He knows he can do it.
Tony’s POV
It’s only been a few hours since Peter’s gone missing, and everything feels like it’s fallen apart. The team’s running in circles trying to find out where he’d be, whereas Tony sits in his lab in the dark with his eyes shut tightly reminding him only slightly of Afghanistan when he was stuck in that tiny cave with Yinsen. He’s trying to get better, to get up and help, for Peter’s sake, but he can’t move or breathe because all he’s thinking is that when they find Peter, he’s going to be in a body bag.
He's locked the doors, removed all the ‘access’ codes he gave special people, because he wanted- no needed to be alone. He can’t keep repeating ‘it’s your fault’ in his head. The voice inside screams it at him, and it’s unrelenting. He can’t get it out, even if he knocks his head on the side of the wall and tries to cry so loud that he can’t hear himself. It’s not even been a day, and he’s freaking out this much. He can’t imagine how he’s going to feel if this turns into months.
He wished he had given Peter a gift that would have kept him protected. When it became known that he was his "son," he ought to have increased security tenfold. He should have known that some thug would pursue him and kidnap him. He experienced that frequently when he was a child. Only Howard's refusal to make a pay-out caused them to quit. Little Tony would frequently create tools to help him escape. Then he would locate the closest police station, where Jarvis would show up and come to his aid. It continued several times until they were just exhausted. They all knew how it would go.
He remembered he’d get cuts and bruises, and Howard would tell him he should’ve been faster. If he made those weapons faster and better, then they wouldn’t have had a chance to lay their hands on him. Jarvis would try his best to console all the tears, but Tony would sob for days afterwards. After the tenth time it happened, he became numb and then there were no tears at all. Jarvis would ask if he was okay. He’d nod and say ‘sure’ and then return to his room and stare at the never-ending view as he felt nothing at all.
Tony wishes Jarvis was here now. He knew Tony like the back of his hand. He knew when he was pretending, or when he didn’t care or if he did. He knew Tony. He was the first person to care, to really care. Not the money, not his title or his reputation. Jarvis just wanted him to be okay.
That’s what he wanted for Peter. He wanted him to be okay and happy, and now he’s got him into this mess.
A knocking at the door disturbed Tony’s thoughts. He looked over and saw Rhodey peaking in through the glass. Tony turned around in himself and stayed on the floor, shaking his head as the knocking got louder.
Minutes later it continued.
And went on…
And on…..
“Tony,” he heard Rhodey shout. “Come on, man. It’s just me. I promise. Please let me in.”
Tony looked over and saw Rhodey’s face, concerned as the day he first found Tony asleep on the floor with bottles surrounding him when he was only fifteen. The same age as Peter. Tony sighed, knowing he couldn’t do this- he couldn’t ignore him. Not Rhodey. He got up, got Jarvis (AI Jarvis, not his long-gone butler who he missed so much) to open the doors.
Rhodey rushed in, grabbed Tony by the shoulders and pulled him into the biggest bear hug. “Steve called Pep, but she couldn’t make it. She told me, and I got here as soon as I could. I know how much he means to you, Tones, I’m so sorry.”
Tony tucked his head into Rhodey’s neck, trying his best not to let any tears fall for what would’ve been like the fourth time this day. “It’s my fault,” he mumbles into his skin. Rhodey tugs him in closer, holds him so tight that he feels safe. “It’s all my goddamn fault.”
Rhodey pulls back, shakes his head and sighs. He holds Tony by his shoulders and looks him in the eye with a sympathetic frown. His face is scrunched up in worry, his hands holding on tight. “No, no- Tony, it’s not. It’s not.”
“It is. If I didn’t let him get close to me, if I didn’t go outside and let anyone think he was mine then this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Okay. So, maybe they wouldn’t have taken him if they didn’t think he was yours. Guess what? Still doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t pay for those assholes to go and grab him, you didn’t co-ordinate a whole plan. So, not your fault. Bet he doesn’t think so either,” Rhodey says. He let go of his shoulders, grabbing a tissue from Tony’s desk when he noticed a tear which escaped. He doesn’t make a big deal of it, wiping it away before throwing it in the bin and moving on. “I bet he’s got his own little plan. You know what Pete’s like.”
Tony laughed around his tears, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Yeah,” he says, breathless. “You’re right. Knowing that little shit he probably let them take him. God, I wish I knew where he was. I just want him to be okay.”
“I know you do, Tones,” Rhodey says. “So, let’s get that genius brain of yours rolling. Come upstairs and help your team out because I know you can do it. You’ve saved the world from aliens, saved yourself from terrorists, you can get Peter from some low-level thugs.”
Tony hugs Rhodey, mimicking the bear hug they just shared. They stay like that for a while, as Tony thinks of how good of a friend he has. He’s not sure if he’s ready for this, if his fear of losing Peter won’t cloud his judgement. But Rhodey was right. They weren’t a threat to him. He beat Loki, beat people who tried to kill him… surely, he’s able to save his kid from a few kidnappers. Hell, he saved himself aged ten from people like them.
He goes upstairs.
Peter’s POV
He’s been here for a while now, sat in silence as he picks at the floor. It’s dirty, and he’s sure he can see dried blood all over it. What the hell are they doing to these kids? He looks over the wall and sees a camera set up, facing a chair. He imagines that’s where they take their little ransom videos, the same ones he heard them plan for him in the van. Creative, he thinks, as he looks back down.
Miles seems far away when Peter looks at him. He’s staring at the wall, and Peter swears he sees his hand shaking beside him. There’s something about Miles, something similar between them. Ben was a police officer; it could be that. But it felt deeper. It’s like he sensed it.
He felt protective over all these kids, but for some reason he wanted to make sure Miles didn’t get a scratch on him. He wondered if that’s because they came in together, and he knew his name and part of his family history. Sure, he knows all these kids have families that they want to get back to- but he doesn’t know what they do- or who they’re missing. With Miles, he does. He mentally notes that for the reason why he needs him to be okay.
He hears footsteps but knows someone is coming before that. His head whips up to the door, waiting for them to come in. His senses anticipate it, they know something’s about to happen. He moves closer to the door, ready to offer himself up so none of these kids have to go through anything more.
He doesn’t notice, but Miles looks up before he does…