Chapter 3
Peter muted the glowing TV which was serving as his nightlight, so he could listen to the shouting match vibrating through the air ducts.
“I swear, I’m going to kill him, Happy. Punch the sonuvabitch repeatedly in the face.” Mr. Stark let out an aggravated growling noise before slapping his hand on something like a table. Peter couldn’t help but flinch at the loud sound.
“That’s a great idea. Then you’ll get fired.” Happy stated, “And I can become asset manager after all.”
“Fury can’t fire me. I’m Iron Man.”
“You signed the accords, Iron Man. Or did you forget the whole civil war thing that happened between you and the rest of the Avengers.”
“Happy, if you’re trying to piss me off right now, it’s working. It’s really really working.”
“All I’m saying is someone would arrest you.”
“Not for kicking Nick Fury’s ass.” Tony muttered, slamming what sounded like a dish in the sink. Peter winced involuntarily and pulled the covers tighter around his arms. This was all his fault.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news -“
“Then don’t be.” Tony interrupted.
“- But I think the government would be on Fury’s side, especially if there were ten casualties.”
Peter’s heart pounding loudly under the covers, and he broke into a cold sweat. What did they mean, ten casualties? Peter knew it deep down, after he saved the girl, and the fire-guy got away, he knew his spider sense felt something bad. Almost as bad as it felt right before Nick Fury’s agents beat his ass. He felt so guilty the entire time. Not because Fury was angry or because he was getting whipped, but because he knew he messed up.
He really messed up.
But it was an impossible choice. Save a little girl right then and there, or stop a criminal who could go out and hurt more people. Peter thought the choice was clear. The girl was in immediate danger, and Peter had no way of knowing the fire-guy was going to hurt others for sure. But Fury might have known. Which is why he probably should have listened. But the girl is alive now because of him, and if Peter had to do it over again he would make the exact same decision in a heart beat.
But the whole situation was a catch 22. No matter what he did, someone was going to get hurt. So he did what he thought was right, and that’s the only thing giving Peter peace of mind right now.
Maybe if S.H.E.I.L.D would have stayed on top of the Fire-guy’s whereabouts then maybe he wouldn’t have blown-up a gas station. Maybe it was all Agents of Shield’s fault. But Peter wasn’t the type of person to blame others. He took responsibility for his actions and he always would. That’s something Uncle Ben instilled in him a long time ago. But he needed someone to forgive him when he found it hard to forgive himself. That’s why he couldn’t have asked for a better mentor and chauffeur. Thankfully they were on his side. They could have easily been angry at him too. Peter squirmed under the covers, remember how adamant Mr. Stark was about following orders.
“You go behind my back and do the one thing I told you not to do.”
“Is everyone okay?” Peter asked, voice shaky.
“No thanks to you.”
Peter smooshed his face in his pillow, willing those memories to go away. Everything was okay this time. Maybe it wasn’t. But it wasn’t Peter’s fault. Maybe it was.
He wanted to go to sleep so badly, but he couldn’t. He grit his teeth at the persistent pain (which he welcomed considering the pain eased his guilty conscience). Even though Happy and Mr. Stark were quietly speaking now, Peter couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He tried, nonetheless, kicking the covers away from him, so he could get cooler.
His eyes fluttered closed, but his brain was working overtime, trying to make sense of everything that happened.
“Mr. Parker.” Fury’s voice made him jump, “I’m glad you’re here. I wish I could show you around under better circumstances, but as it is, you need to receive disciplinary actions for what happened earlier. We want to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid -“
“Is everyone okay?” Peter needed to know immediately.
Fury knitted his eyebrows together, “There is a reason we do not tolerate insubordination.”
“Please, I only wanted to help. You can’t expect me to stand by at watch a little kid get crushed by a billboard.”
“Mr. Parker, I understand why you did what you did. But I made the call in order to stop a greater threat. It was my decision. I would have been to blame for anything bad that followed. I was trying to stop something worse from happening. Unfortunately for me, you chose not to listen. But I am aware you saved a life. You’re a good kid, Peter, you are. You don’t need this kind of pressure and responsibility. It isn’t fair to you. But if you want to fight for a greater good, then you need to follow orders.”
Peter sucked in a breath. ”I’m sorry.” He whispered.
Two other agents had shown up and Fury gestured to them.
“Agent Ward, Agent Fitz make sure Mr. Parker understands that there are severe consequences for disobeying a direct order while on a mission.”
Peter already knew. There was no punishment they could have given him that could hurt worse than how he was feeling inside. His heart ached for the others that might have been injured at the hands of this villain that he could have stopped.
He didn’t feel anything as he followed the agents into a white office. Dazed, Peter watched as one of the agents reached into a cupboard and removed a long stiffmetal rod.
Peter tossed and turned against the sheets, feeling trapped again. Water droplets were pooling on his pillow.
Out of nowhere, a brown paper napkin was gently dabbing his cheek. Peter flinched as he watched Happy gently wipe his face. Offering a sad smile, Happy pulled the wet napkin away, “Hey come on now, everything’s all good.”
That was completely embarrassing. He shrunk further in his seat, trying to hide his face. As the seat rubbed against him, Peter was painfully reminded of today’s events and regretted sinking into the booth.
Peter rolled onto his stomach, whimpering.
“We’re far away from that place and you’re done with all that punishment crap. It’s just the two of us here, and I’m certainly not mad at you, so you can relax.”
“Thanks Happy.”
The rod made a noise at first, a hiss and a thud which was immediately followed by a burning sensation.
Peter narrowed his eyes, “Well what did you expect? They whipped me with a freaking - one of those - stick things. Of course it hurts.”
Happy raised an eyebrow, “Stick things?”
Wait? So Happy didn’t know? Peter cringed not wanting to reveal any more information.
“Happy, please, can we not talk about this.” He dropped his half-eaten burger onto the tray, “I want to go home.”
As quickly as the pain arrived it vanished though. Peter relaxed his grip on the desk. Nevertheless, Agent Ward was using his full strength, Peter could tell. The second stroke hit right below the first and it continued down his legs to the back of his knees. Each time his skin would shoot up with pain and then dissolve as if nothing had happened.
Happy wasn’t letting it go, “Like a cane? Is that what you mean?”
Fifty shades of red, his face must have turned fifty shades of red. Quickly, Peter yanked his blue hoodie over his head and hummed in mortification. Why did he have to open his big mouth?
“So what are you saying? Fury just beat you?”
Peter groaned, tugging at the strings of his hoodie so they covered his eyes too. If he was in pitch blackness then maybe this wasn’t happening and it was all a bad dream.
“Peter! What do you mean they used a cane?”
“Happy, please, please stop talking about this.”
The rod then continued the same route as before, but on previously marked flesh. Peter was small enough that Agent Ward could only fit six strokes each round. By the end of the second round, Peter’s shoulder’s tensed as he was beginning to feel the affects without anything fading away.
“I just want to know, I mean obviously you’re really upset.” Happy said. “But at the same time, you got super strength right? And those healing abilities?”
“It still hurts,” Peter explained quietly, thankful for the hood over his face, “I heal quick but not so much if I’m hit in the same place over and over again. It’s - it’s like Harry Potter. Have you ever seen that movie? The one where his hand gets cut over and over but it heals? Well eventually after it heals so many times, the cuts start to leave a scar and then the pain lasts.”
“You’re scarred?” Happy yanked the hoodie off of Peter’s head looking him closely in the eye.
“No - I - I don’t know! Please, can we go home?”
“How many times?”
“I want to go home.”
“How many times did they hit you?”
Grunting, Peter threw his head back in distress, “Happy!”
“Hey, I know, I know you don’t want to talk about it and I know I’m torturing you here, but I want to make sure you’re alright.”
“I am! I am! Besides you can’t do anything for me if I’m not so what’s it matter? Can we please just go home.”
Peter squeezed the life out of his pillow, feeling the cool material soothe his burning face. He turned to the other side, sniveling.
The third pass of the rod hit a tender spot in the crease of his butt and thighs which had him jerking forward, the biggest reaction thus far. At least he wasn’t going to break down in front of these agents.
Peter squeezed his eyes shut wishing this to be over as quickly as possible. He already felt awful for what happened, this was just making him feel worse.
“If you do something like this again, you’ll be Stark’s problem.” Fury snapped. “He can deal with you himself.”
The fourth round garnered some reaction out of Peter. A low whine of protest escaped his lips during a particularly hard stroke. The emotion in the room was full of discomfort not only from Peter but from the two Agents who were witnessing what was really a child receiving a brutal adult punishment in silence. It was unnerving.
“Last round, kid.”
Agent Ward swung the rod and Peter sucked in an uncomfortable breath. “Ow.” He mumbled at the twenty-eighth whack. His lower-half was stinging more than he wanted to admit. Peter’s legs started shaking with the strain of holding himself upright. By the thirtieth stroke his entire body was quaking with the effort to remain silent.
“Tony wouldn’t hit you.” Happy’s voice was harsh, sending shivers down Peter’s spine. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
Peter suppressed a sob, “Fury said he would. He said Mr. Stark would be the one to do it again if I get in trouble. That I’m going to be his problem, and - and I don’t want him to hate me or have to deal with me.”
“I’m sorry.” Peter reached for the covers, but couldn’t find them.
Agent Ward was helping him upright.
“You okay, kid?”
Peter tried to take a step forward, but wobbled on stiff legs.
“Whoa, easy.” The agent grabbed him around the bicep and held him steady. At the current moment, his skin was alternating between intense pain and numbness. Peter knew it wouldn’t last long, but he also couldn’t bare it right now.
He felt so awful, knowing that he screwed up to the point where Mr. Stark wanted him to feel this kind of pain. It made him sick to his stomach.
“Please don’t hate me.”
“Peter!” He whimpered as he felt a hand shake his shoulder. “Kid, wake up.”
Another low whimper escaped him when he saw Mr. Stark hovering over the side of his bed. Peter’s eyes met his briefly, flashing pain, betrayal and abandonment all in one kicked puppy look that Peter was a master of conjuring.
“S-Sorry.” He whispered, shivering as the cold AC blew over his sweaty body. Tony reached for the covers, pulling them up to Peter’s chin.
“You’re okay, kid. It was just a nightmare.”
Mr. Stark pulled a box of Kleenex off the dresser and set it on Peter’s chest. He pulled one tissue out and gently wiped at Peter’s eyes.
“Don’t cry, kid.” Mr. Stark cleared his throat awkwardly. “It hurts me to see you this upset. If you want, I’ll burn down Fury’s house. Just say the word. I’m serious. I got killer drones. Tell me to do it, and it’s done.”
Peter shook his head, his dimples showing slightly. “All of it was real, Mr. Stark.”
“What was real?”
“My dream. I- I hurt people, today. I didn’t mean to, but I did.”
Tony sighed heavily and sat on the side of his bed. “I’m sorry you’re feeling guilty. I would do anything to prevent that, if I could. But being a ‘hero’ comes with a price. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that guilt is the largest price we pay. That’s what drove me to sign the Accords in the first place. Guilt helped me push away Pepper. It kept me awake at night. It made me fight a war with my friends. I thought I was doing what was right too. I wanted to avoid more guilt, and of course, the opposite ended up happening. The worst part was, I dragged you into it. For that, I’m sorry.”
Peter sat up cautiously, still nervous to put pressure on his sensitive skin. He winced, the pain was still there. “No, Mr. Stark. Please don’t say that. I’m glad you brought me into this world. It’s been an honor to meet you, and work with you, and see the Avengers for the first time! I wouldn’t change anything.”
“Even if it means you have to live with this guilty conscience at such a young age?”
Peter shrugged. “I’ve had a guilty conscience ever since my Uncle died, Mr. Stark, sir. It’s never going to go away.”
Tony wasn’t good at the whole hugging or comforting thing. He didn’t have kids. He didn’t know how to deal with them. But after the first ‘mission’ Peter had wrapped his arms around Tony when sitting in that car, and Tony felt it was only fair to return the hug at some point. To give him a real one.
So that’s what he did. He wrapped his arms around the kid, and pulled him to his chest. It was probably the worst hug in history, at least that’s what Tony was thinking. But Peter didn’t seem to think so, because he wouldn’t let go.
“If there’s anything I can do to ease your mind, kid, let me know.” Tony patted the top of his head.
Peter nuzzled his face further into Tony’s shoulder. “I think this will work.”