O Death, How You're Treatin' Me
The expo was just as large and loud as Tony remembered it being. Two boys held his hands, the oldest wearing a cheap, Wal-Mart brand Iron Man mask and the youngest still sniffling from the scene they came from earlier. He didn’t know how time worked in this place, and wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with rescuing Peter. Of course, he wasn’t called one of the most brilliant minds of the century for no reason—he knew that whatever he was being shown held clues to getting them both out of there safely. Ned’s warning still hovered in the back of his head, and he wondered exactly how the magic would try to convince him to leave before he could convince Peter to come with him.
“And then Uncle Ben took us to McDonald’s because the pot roast was so burned that he said it smelled like Satan’s cologne. Aunt May hit him on the back of the head but he just kissed her.”
“Ewww.” The four-year-old listened as the older boy chattered away. Tony smiled softly as he let Peter’s words fill the air.
It wasn’t until the sounds of screaming exploded around them that Tony remembered where they were. Why Peter Parker had been at the Stark Expo was a mystery that the boy had yet to reveal, but the fact that Tony forgot about the Hammer’s murder drones, even for a few minutes, said more about the 8-year-old’s ability to captivate Tony than it did about his lack of attention to detail.
Tony quickly grabbed the smaller boy in his arms and turned to Peter to ask him to hop on his back. “Pete, we need to run.”
Peter looked at Tony and smiled. “Nah, Mr. Stark. Heroes don’t run away.” The screaming got louder as an exhibit behind them exploded. The older boy turned around and ran towards the approaching drone. Tony ducked, protecting the head of the kid he was carrying, and momentarily lost sight of Peter. The four-year-old whined, and looked up at Tony. “Can we leave, please, Mr. Tony? I’m scared.” As he dodged another flying projectile, he could feel the kid tense underneath him. They passed a couple of people on the floor who were unconscious and bleeding.
Finally, he saw Peter standing ahead of him, wrist pointed to the sky. A drone towered over him, gun pointed at his small body. Tony wasn’t going to make it in time, and felt a horrible lurch in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he let one of the Peter’s get hurt here, but he imagined it wouldn’t be something good. He had only known this kid for a short amount of time, but he felt the same fear for him as he would have for Morgan. He shouted for Peter to duck, but before the words left his mouth, the drone exploded. Tony saw himself fly away, the mechanical “Nice work, kid,” echoing in his ears. He ran over to Peter and grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Don’t you EVER do that again? Do you understand? You could have been hurt.” He hugged him tightly. Peter took off his helmet, eyes bright and excited. He laughed and spun around. “Don’t worry about me, Mr. Stark! Nothing can hurt me! You’re here!” The four-year-old jumped up and down beside them and Tony held Peter tighter. He was about to say something else when their surroundings started to shift.
Colors and dust swirled around them until the three found themselves underneath a kitchen table. Tony was still smiling until he looked over at the kids next to him. The younger child seemed concerned, but it was the eight-year-old who shocked him. Peter’s face was white and he was trembling and this was the first time Tony had seen him anything but cheerful.
“Pete. Bud, what are we doing under here?” Tony felt a deep sense of foreboding.
The kid put his finger up to his lips. Tony had to lean in to hear him whisper. “Shhhh, Mr. Stark. He’ll hear you.” Tony could hear steps getting closer, as well as the faint hum of an air conditioner. The sounds of Jeopardy were playing on a TV in the background. As the steps got closer, Tony heard a voice speak in a sing-song, babying tone. “Hmm. I wonder where Einstein could be?” Peter was tense, tears pooling in his eyes. The footsteps stopped in front of the table where Tony could see white sneakers poking from under the tablecloth. The tablecloth lifted and a man bent down. He had blonde hair and blue, cold eyes. His smile looked like a shark’s. He sighed in fake disappointment, “Oh, darling! I found you so quickly! You can do better than that.” He reached his hand out to grab Peter’s. “Now it’s time for my game!”
No matter how much Tony yelled and screamed and tried to pull Peter away, he couldn’t change the scene in front of him. His fists didn’t connect with the babysitter, but went right through him. The only people who were able to see him were the boys, the youngest who kept trying to pull him out of the room and the oldest who avoided his eyes and instead stared at the Iron Man poster on his wall.
“C’mon, Mr. Tony. Let’s go home. Petey doesn’t want us here.” The eight-year-old nodded as the four-year-old tugged harder. “Let’s go!” Tony ignored the insistent child and walked closer to the boy on the bed. He tightly cupped his face in his hands and started whispering, “You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.” Peter tensed, and then relaxed into his touch.
Tony kept whispering to him until he realized they were the only people in the room. Quickly, Tony picked up the boy and rocked him back and forth. “I’m here, I’m here.”
There was a knock on the door as they both stilled. The person entered hesitantly, seemingly startled to find Tony Stark in the room. He smiled awkwardly and waved. “Oh. Wow. Um. Wow. You’re Tony Stark.” He shook his head incredulous, then walked over to the 8-year-old. He handed him a Lego set of the Avengers and ruffled his hair.
“Remember what Uncle Ben said, ‘Nothing can stop a Parker.’ Just forget about it, kay, Pete? It doesn’t matter. No reason to think about it again” Tony was about to protest, but the younger kid nodded and wiped his nose with his shirt. The oldest kid, who looked to be around fourteen, looked back at Tony. The worship in his eyes was even greater than he had at a younger age. “So,” he seemed nervous and was wringing his hands, “I have read, like, every paper you’ve written. Your work on the arc reactor is obviously world-changing, but I have always been interested in the series you co-authored with Dr. Banner on the effect of gamma-radiation on artificial intelligence and the implications of creating synthetic neural pathways for brain injuries.”
Tony was trying to keep up with everything that had happened so far, and instead chose to focus on the young teen in front of him. “You read that? And understood it?” Peter nodded and walked over to a desk in the corner of his room. He dumped the contents of his backpack on it and started fiddling with the scavenged parts. Tony could tell he was building something that looked like a robot. The teenager gently pushed away the hand of his four-year-old self who had walked over interested in what his counterpart was doing.
Peter wiped his brow, and Tony could see he was sweating and shaking a little. He swayed a bit, and threw an apologetic look to Tony. “Uh, hold on a sec, Mr. Stark.” He leaned over his desk and grabbed a small trash bin that was sitting next to it. He immediately threw up.
Tony rushed over right before the kid fainted. He picked him up and laid him on the bed, the other two kids hovering protectively. The heat radiating from the teen’s body was shocking and Tony quickly looked around to see there was any water or a washcloth close by. Both appeared on the nightstand, and Tony grabbed them to start wiping his face.
“Ew. Do you think he has leprosy? I read about leprosy once in a book and it’s nasty.” The eight-year-old had grabbed the older boy’s hand and showed Tony what looked to be an infected mosquito bite. The teen shivered, still unconscious.
“C’mon, Mr. Tony. This is gross. Let’s go.” Four-year-old Peter grabbed Tony’s hand again to drag him away, stepping away only when the teenage version of himself suddenly woke up and vomited again all over the shirt and jeans Tony was wearing. Tony took the towel that had appeared on the bed next them and began cleaning up. The other two kids protested, but Tony shot them a look.
“We’re not leaving him.”
The colors swirled and the setting changed and the dust settled and Tony wondered what the hell else could happen to his this kid.