only the good die young
“So it was, like, the beginning of eighth grade,” Tony explains, hands waving in the air as he sets the scene of his story. The rest of the cabin (as well as Natasha, Pepper, Loki, and Peter, but that’s typical) sit in a circle, pillows and blankets thrown on top of them as they munch on snacks. It’s already past lights out time, but they know that if the girls and younger boys sneak out quietly then they’ll get away with it. “This was before Johnny Hammer started talking shit about me, and even though HammerTech and Stark Industries were still competitors, the two of us were still friends. That’s kind of how it was all of middle school.”
“You were friends with him?!” Rhodey sputters.
“Before all the fame, sex, drugs, booze,” Tony replies. “Yeah. We were assholes in arms. He’s still an asshole, but I’m actually trying to work on myself.”
“Get on with your stupid ass story.”
“Don’t be fucking rude,” Steve yelps in a Kim Kardashian voice, throwing a pillow at Clint and whacking him with it several times.
“So it was the beginning of eighth grade,” Tony says. “I had just turned fourteen, and I was starting to get with a bad crowd. I hung out with a lot of high schoolers, mostly because Johnny egged me on to go to their parties, but whatever. I smoked a handful of times, and I was kind of on the verge of making it, like, a routine thing. I knew a lot of dealers and for a week straight I was high every night.”
“What’s a dealer?” Peter asks sweetly.
“Honey, I don’t think you should be listening to this story,” Pepper says.
“I’m fine, though! I’m not gonna do drugs or anythin.’ I’m smart.”
Loki fishes in his pocket for something, pulling out a phone and a set of airpods. “Here, child. Listen to the Taylor Swift music.”
“Her new music?” Peter asks, blinking. “My Aunt May says that her new music is bad. Her old ones are best.”
“I’ll put on her old music,” Loki sighs.
Once Peter has the airpods in his ears as he smiles in glee, mouthing the lyrics to the song that Tony can barely hear, they go back to the story.
“I had three bags of ecstasy tablets in my jacket pocket,” Tony says slowly. “It was a group of us, and Hammer was there. We were all in the back of a Burger King parking lot. Middle of the night. Some old bitch called the police on us.”
“Did they find the tablets?”
“They forced me to pour them out and crush them with my shoe—but I was smart about it!” Tony grins cockily. “I pretended to pour them out on the street but I actually dumped them on the grass. It was so dark out that they didn’t notice that I was literally stomping on nothing.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bruce scoffs. “You did ecstasy?”
“Once,” he says. “That was the first night I even had it. I probably won’t do it again.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“They called my mom. She had to pick me up from the parking lot, and she was fucking pissed.”
Tony glances towards Peter, who’s obediently staring at the floor with the airpods stuck in his ears. He softly moves his head to the beat, his eyes big yet tired as he most likely waits until he can be included again.
Steve shifts, looking uncomfortable. Everyone else kind of appears to be debating something in their heads. Scott just looks plain interested. “Well...” Bucky says, “You don’t... do that stuff anymore, do you?”
He blinks. “No. No, I don’t. I quit after less than a month. I’ve hit a juul once or twice since, but, uh, I’m trying to quit that too.”
Sighs of relief.
“Thank god,” Pepper murmurs.
Loki takes the earbuds out of Peter’s ears.
“Is it done? Can I know what a dealer is yet? Isn’t dealers from card games?”
“That’s different.”
Tony purses his lips. “Pete, I need you to make a promise to me, okay?”
He knows that the little boy looks up to him. He knows that Peter will promise it no matter what, so maybe that’s why Tony decides to be a good fucking person rather than a shitty one who could’ve prevented something but didn’t.
The thought of the kid, high as a kite as he runs around with a bunch of teenage junkies, makes Tony sick to his stomach. He swallows. “Make good choices. Don’t ever give into people trying to pressure you into stuff. I’ve made countless mistakes that ruined my life, and I’m only fourteen. Don’t be an idiot like I am. Also—If you find someone worth holding onto, never let them go. If your Aunt May tells you she loves you, say it back. Don’t let the assholes get to your head, and never apologize for being the smartest guy in the room.”
Peter looks enthralled. Tony decides that he’s gonna keep this little boy.
—
When Tony fainted, he later learns, he had hit his head on the corner of Fury’s desk, leaving a red, ugly cut on his temple that he’s practically mortified to see when he wakes up in the nurse’s office.
He’s laying in one of those uncomfortable cots that he’s always hated, back strained from lack of decent cushion and a pounding in his arm. Jesus, he must have fallen on it.
“Oh. You’re awake.”
Nurse Bonquisha, a large, monotone woman, looks at Tony uninterestedly as she chews her gum.
“What time is it?” he croaks out.
“Noon. Almost lunch.”
“Where’s Loki?”
“Not arrested, that’s all I can say. You need an aspirin, or somethin’?”
Tony pushes himself off the cot and onto his weak, jiggly legs that tremble once he puts his weight down. What the fuck. “What happened?”
Bonquisha shrugs. “Fainted.”
Fucking bitch.
“You—You really are...” stumbling towards a small mirror on a desk, he pulls it to his face and inspects the burning spot on his forehead. Fuck. A bloody, one inch long cut rests on his skin that practically ruins any dreams he had of being on the cover of Teen Vogue. That’s gonna leave a scar for sure. “You really are no help at all, you know that, Bonquisha?”
The woman tosses him a bandaid.
—
Loki tells the rest of the group everything that happened in the office while Tony is unconscious in the nurses office, that prick.
He meets everyone at lunch; before he even manages to get to the table, the entire cafeteria gawks at him as he walks past. What shocks them more is the bandage on his forehead that practically screams ‘go ahead and make up assumptions about me.’
He walks by the Heron cabin’s empty table. It sends the same wave of grief down into his stomach, pooling and spilling out, bile forming in his throat that he swallows down. Peter’s table.
“Tony!” a voice yells, cracking like mad, but Tony can’t tell if it’s simply because of puberty or actual emotion. He turns around, and Bucky and Steve practically throw themselves on top of him, entrapping him in a bear hug that crushes his spine.
Don’t forget, that little voice inside of him says. Operation Pepperony.
“I’m fine,” he says, hugging the boys back before stiffening and pulling away, much to their disappointment. It’s fine. They need this. Tony needs this. “Just a little cut. No biggie.”
The rest of the cabin launches themselves at him too, questions rapid fire as Sam captures him in an un-brutal headlock. It’s funny, really, how much they fuss over him.
“Oh, god, Tony,” Pepper gasps, “People have been saying that Rumlow slapped you so hard that you were knocked out. Is that true?”
“I already told you it wasn’t!” Loki barks.
“I can’t trust your judgment.”
“How bad’s the cut?”
“What did they say?”
“Are you getting expelled?!”
“Tony, did someone hit you?”
“Oh my fucking god, my head is about to explode,” Tony groans. He’s met with identical looks of mortification. “What the—no. I mean, stop asking me so many questions. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fi—“ Clint starts, cut off by Bruce elbowing him in the stomach.
“I’m starving,” he says, giving a pointed glance to their audience. “Can I please eat something and then I’ll tell you guys everything? Like, back at the cabin? Alone?”
Tony waves a hand and links arms with Pepper. He doesn’t miss the way that Steve and Bucky practically crumble with disappointment.
Natasha shoots them a strange look, then to Tony, then to the boys, and then back at Tony. “Uh...”
“Sit down, guys,” Pepper commands with finality. “I’m gonna wait with Tony in the line.”
“Thanks, Peps,” he says, strutting away with her in tow.
Emmaus watches as the two walk away, dumbstruck looks painted on their faces.
—
“Poor Peter,” Scott croaks out, pulled close into Rhodey’s body as his hands rub over his eyes.
The cabin sits in a circle around the room, scattered about; some on the floor, some on the bunks, some sitting on top of table tops. The blinds are shut close, leaving the room feeling muggy and dim, despite reflecting how all of the teenagers feel inside.
Loki and Tony sit side by side on the floor; the topic of conversation, due to their experience this morning. “F-Fury said,” Tony utters, “That his cabin woke up to an empty bunk.”
“And I saw him last night,” Loki adds. “It must have happened during night.”
“But where could he have gone in the middle of the night?” asks Steve.
“Don’t know.”
“There’s no way the kid ran away,” says Sam. “That’s not like Pete at all. Tony, Loki, you knew him better than anyone—“
“Which is exactly why we were called to the office first,” Loki says.
“What do you think happened to him, then? He obviously didn’t just vanish into thin air.”
“We don’t know,” groans Tony. “My god. Someone or something did... did something to him, maybe. I don’t know. What we do know is this; Peter wasn’t the first and he probably won’t be the last. This can’t be a coincidence—him going missing less than two weeks after another boy from his own cabin. Maybe the little boys are being... targeted.”
“Targeted for what?” asks Natasha, grimly.
“I don’t know.”
“They’re investigating. They’ve taped off, like, the entire camp. They’re only letting us leave our cabins during meal times.”
“This a repeat of the last situation,” Bucky says, almost to himself. He turns to Tony, fear in his eyes as he wraps Steve up in his arms. “Tony, have you even heard what the fuck is happening? Almost a third of the campers have been picked up so far, and that’s only from this morning. I think they sent out a message to all the parents about, like, everything.”
“Have you guys’ parents heard?” Tony asks.
One by one, everyone exchanges questioning glances around the room. Tony knows the answer well enough. They hadn’t.
“Our sister, Hela, is a counselor,” Thor says after a moment. “You know, the tall emo lady with long hair who runs paintball?”
“That’s her?!”
“Yeah,” the boy hums. “Our father is trying to force her to take us back home. She’s going to finish out the whole summer regardless, and since we don’t want to leave either...”
“We’re going to try to stay,” Loki finishes.
There’s a brief silence, not awkward nor unawkward, but it’s prevalent nonetheless.
“I hope you don’t leave,” Bruce says quietly, twiddling his fingers.
“Me, too.”
“I’d kill myself if you guys went home.”
“That fucking blows.”
“Anyone else?”
“Me,” Scott says. “My girlfriend back home—“
“Girlfriend?!” Bucky gasps.
The boy looks taken aback at the response, hand on his heart in offense. “Yes, Bucky! Girlfriend!” Scott retorts, “And she won’t stop texting me, telling me to go home. She said that my mom told her about it after hearing about the first missing kid on facebook, and now they both want me to go home.”
“What’s her name?” Rhodey asks.
“That’s what you’re most hung up on?!”
“Are you sure you have a girlfriend, Scott?” asks Sam, cynically. “I mean, you’ve never mentioned her before, and...”
“What the hell are you all trying to say? That it’s unbelievable I have a girlfriend?!”
“All I’m saying is that—“
“What, you don’t think I’m hot enough?” Scott huffs, glaring at Rhodey. “I’ll have you know that I am sexy as fuck—“
“What the fuck,” Pepper mutters under her breath, watching as all the boys stand up and begin to shove into each other.
“That’s not what I meant,” Rhodey says calmly. “Trust me, you’re hot, Scott, but...”
In the madness, Tony laces his fingers through Peppers’, it’s something he does without thinking much about it. It feels right, with her frail, dainty fingers and his experiment-scarred, hyperactive ones. The sadness of the day drives him, honestly. He just wants attention.
Pepper scoffs, pulling away.
“Is now really the time for this, boys?!” she shouts.
“Her name is Hope,” Scott says, nonetheless. “And she’s the most beautiful girl in the—“
“In your imagination?” says Sam.
Tony probably looks pathetic as he tugs at Pepper’s arm in neediness. His eyes feel heavy and all he wants to do is go home. To be away from here. It’s too loud.
His boys—No, Steve and Bucky—would give him attention regardless.
Steve clears his throat awkwardly.
“Shut up, Sam.”
“I’m joking, I’m joking.”
“The kid is missing and you guys think it’s a joke,” Bruce says shortly.
“We never—“
“Oh my god, seriously?”
“Just shut up!” Tony snaps. “Just—Just shut the fuck up.”
“The kid could be dead,” Natasha says grimly.
“Don’t,” Tony seethes.
“You don’t know what happened to him.”
“You don’t know he’s dead!”
“I know well enough,” Natasha says. “I know Harley hasn’t been found. He’s probably dead too.”
“Natasha, what the fuck!?” Bucky yelps. “Don’t say that. You know how Tony felt about—“
“Shut up, Barnes,” Clint argues.
“Look, I know you’re a kiss-ass to your girlfriend, but—“
“Fuck you.”
“Pepper, please,” Tony cries, turning to the girl, who stares ahead at the scene in silence. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s asking her for, but he knows that it’s important.
Scratch that. He knows what he’s asking for.
“Peter was just a fucking kid!”
“Yeah, and he’s a kid who’s gone now. There’s nothing else we can do about it.”
“Pepper—“
“You need to stay in your lane, Natasha, you bitch!”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL HER?!”
Shoving his head into Pepper’s shoulder, Anthony Stark cries. He cries and sobs and croaks out curses, out of the loss of innocence, of the loss of a child. It hits him hard, and it doesn’t hit him any less when Pepper hugs him back.
—
The camp is covered in police tape by the time the sun sets.
Campers are signed out one by one. It’s mostly little kids that go, with their suitcases trailing behind them as they cry and say goodbye to their friends.
Tony watches as they leave, not feeling sympathetic at all. If they stay, then they could be next. The thought of another Peter disappearing... it brings a sick feeling to his stomach.
And these stupid, bitch ass teenagers won’t stop going up to him and asking about it. ‘Oh, Stark, didn’t you hang out with that little kid that went missing? Peter?’ Fucking assholes. He has to hold back punching at least four people in the face in less than an hour.
Loki, however, is getting the worst of it.
Some rumors say that Loki pushed Peter into the lake and drowned him in the middle of the night. Some rumors say that Loki and Tony both buried the kid after accidentally killing him playing archery. He doesn’t know which rumor is worse, but what he knows is this; Loki Odinson can’t catch a fucking break.
Earlier, Loki left the cabin to retrieve his phone charger from his own suitcase, only to take an abnormally long amount of time. So much so that Thor had grown too concerned to wait. Tony, Thor, and Bucky walked outside to see Loki being kicked to a pulp by a group of teenagers—probably sixteen years old. The dirt on the floor covered his sweater vest and the side of his face as he grunted in pain, too small to fight back.
Scott had to hold Steve back as Thor decked one of the boys in the fucking nose.
The ordeal was brutal. Too brutal for Tony to even want to think back on it, but let’s just say that Bucky almost snapped someone’s arm like a twig. Thankfully, no adults were involved. Maybe the sixteen year olds were too humiliated by the fact that they were curb stomped by a bunch of kids younger than them, Tony doesn’t fucking know.
But whatever—Loki is fine, by the way. Just a few bruises, but the boys had gotten to him before something too bad could happen.
Today’s just a shitty day, overall.
—
“I already told you, Mom,” Tony groans, tossing his backpack on the floor as he walks into the corridor, his mother slamming the door behind them as she storms inside as well. “They didn’t give them to me. I got them from the dealer on my own.”
“You,” Maria hisses, jabbing a manicured nail into Tony’s chest. “Will not hang out with these kids anymore. No more sneaking out, no more Johnny Hammer, no more lying. I’ve had enough of this, Anthony—“
“My name is Tony!” the boy retorts.
“I don’t want to hear a word.” As she backs away, Maria runs her hands over her eyes and then through her hair, fighting to maintain her composure. She sighs, but looks defeated. Resigned. “Tony, I can’t... I know I cannot stop you. But if you are going to... to drink, or smoke, or whatever it is that you do, I’d rather you do it in the house. That’s the least you could do for your poor old mother.”
Tony shifts his feet.
“Sometimes, Tony,” the woman says quietly, “You scare the hell out of me.”
She smiles, eyes tired. “You do. You really do. You act like—You act like a fool, out there. The world is cruel. I’m afraid you’ll grow crueler.”
“As cruel as the man you married?” he says lowly.
Maria cries. Hot, fat, wet tears stream down her porcelain face.
“Worse,” she says, and then Tony shoots out of bed.
—
Pepper wakes up to her phone buzzing with a text message at 3:22 in the morning.
She blinks a few times, the brightness of her phone overwhelming to her eyes in the pitch black, but the name ‘tony stank’ is enough to get her vision working in an instant.
tony stank: hey ms. potts
tony stank: are u awake by any chance
She scoffs, pulling the cover over her head. There are other girls trying to sleep; she’s not gonna be a bitch and wake them up by being on her phone out in the open.
me: Now I am. What’s up
tony stank: wanna hang
me: Fuck no
tony stank: whyy
me: It’s the middle of the night first off
me: Also it’s the middle of the fucking night
tony stank: time is a construct created by cowards
tony stank: peps
tony stank: come on please
tony stank: there’s too much shit on my mind right now and i just can’t stay laying in bed i have to do something with my head
tony stank: too many thoughts yknow
Too many thoughts. It’s something that the girl has an understanding towards, because Tony is the epitome of too many thoughts for one brain to think of; the boy has been through a lot. Today is just another shitty situation to add to his list of mental trauma.
Pepper caves, pulling herself out of bed and grabbing around for her jacket that she knows she left hanging on her bunk. Thank god she took the bottom one, it’d be such a nuisance to have to creep down the ladder.
tony stank: also i’m outside ur cabin
“Oh my god,” she huffs while smiling to herself, opening the door to a disheveled looking Tony.
Once again, she surprises herself after having to look down to meet his eye level. Pepper is only a little above average height for her age, first off, at an ordinary five feet and five inches. Tony, however, makes her feel like a giant. He barely rises past her nose.
It’s not a bad thing. Just something to get used to.
Closing the door behind her, Pepper gives the boy an unimpressed look. “What now?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“You saw me all day,” she rolls her eyes. “You were practically glued to me, and that especially didn’t help whenever the wonder twins would glare daggers into my back for taking their newest.”
“Steve and Bucky are relentless.”
“Why are you avoiding them, then?”
They begin to walk through the night, barely being able to see the trees as they weave through the cabin area. “I mean...” Tony says, “I guess I’ve been feeling suffocated. Not just by them. By everything.”
“They like you a lot.”
“I like them, too,” Tony says quickly, then covering his mouth as if he didn’t mean to say it aloud. “Fuck. I mean... I like them a lot, but I don’t think I know what I want, or anything like that. I’m keeping my space.”
“Why?”
He shrugs.
Pepper knows well enough.
“I just need to get by,” Tony says. “Two more weeks.”
“You’ve done well so far.”
“And look what’s happened so far.”
She purses her lips, stepping over a tree stump. “None of this—Nothing that’s happened is your fault.”
A scoff. “I heard what some kids were saying. That me and Loki... God. And then there were some girls that said everything started happening when I came to camp.”
“They’re only saying that because you’re the only interesting thing other than the disappearances. They want something to blame it on.”
“And that fight today?”
“That fight today had nothing to do with you. Just some assholes who saw a thirteen year old kid and wanted to feel superior. Loki is—“
“Loki could’ve gotten seriously fucking hurt.”
“It wouldn’t have gone that far.”
For once, Tony stays silent. He looks resigned. That, or he’s just plain tired.
—
They walk around for a big portion of the night, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Tony, Pepper learns, doesn’t need much in terms of trust to gain companionship with others. It may be his biggest strength, but it could also be his biggest weakness. Pepper can’t tell for shit.
She learns more than she bargained for, when befriending this broken boy. He’s lived through nightmares not even adults could imagine, and the girl is positive that he isn’t fabricating these stories. These are real.
Atop the death of his dear mother, his asshole of a father, his curse of riches, his past alcoholism, non-recreational drug abuse, sexual abuse, and more? This poor kid is just Satan’s punching bag, at this point.
“What do you think?” Tony asks as they stroll along the sidewalk, phone flashlights in hand as they talk. “If Peter is alive, where do you think he is?”
The question of the hour, that’s for sure—it’s a tough one for anyone to answer.
“Maybe he’s with his Aunt,” she says, but she knows the harsh truth.
“I think he’s alive,” Tony says shortly. “But that part is what I’m trying to figure out.”
Sirens.
Police sirens, that is. The dark, silent camp is filled with the sound of loud sirens, echoing through the cabin area and the sports pavilion and the main walkway/road. Tony and Pepper watch the distant entrance of the camp in horror, as emergency cars barrel in like ants exiting an anthill. Ambulances, too.
They scramble to run behind a life jacket shed.
In the far away distance, counselors and administrators burst out of the main office and the counselor cabins, some struggling to slip on their shoes as the bolt towards the direction of where the cars are going. Whatever this is, it’s something bad.
“Let’s go,” Pepper breathes, getting up and tugging Tony by the arm.
“Wait, no!” Tony hisses. “We can’t fucking let them know we’re out here!”
“If they catch us outside while this is going on, we’re gonna be held responsible for—for whatever’s going on. Just go!”
Tony caves. They sprint towards the main road, where thank fucking god, Maria and Coulson are jumping onto a golf cart and jamming the key into the ignition. Other counselors run past and don’t seem to notice the children’s’ presence, their faces drawn in anticipation.
Maria’s hair is sticking up in all directions as she loads onto the golf cart. Her oversized button-down matches the heart pattern on her shorts. She definitely just woke up.
“Hill! Coulson!”
“Kids?” the man exclaims, stepping down from the drivers side of the golf cart. “What the—“
“Pepper?! Stark?!”
“Let’s go,” Tony interrupts, jumping onto the back of the vehicle, the red headed girl following behind silently. The adults exchange a glance before driving nonetheless.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know, Phil.”
“Fucking Rumlow. Sends a red alert as if we’re not all fucking trying to sleep, as if we can drop everything in the middle of the night, and for what? An ‘emergency’ by the lake?!”
Pepper’s hair flies in the cold, humid night, the cart following the path to... what looks to be the second lake? The unused, small one, off to the side of camp, with a broken fishing boat washed up on its shore.
”I hope it’s not what they said it was,” Maria says.
Her heart, pounding in her chest. An irregular, heavy thud.
Coulson drives faster; he’s practically flooring it.
Pepper laces her cold hand with Tony’s.
He squeezes back.
When they get there, the teens hop off the cart. The blue and red lights from the police cars illuminate the forest and the surface of the water. The teens push their way past a wall of adults before they can see the commotion.
”What the hell are you kids doing here?”
”What’s going on?” demands Pepper, ignoring the officer.
”You need to leave—“
“Tony!! Pepper!!”
The Emmaus boys shove their way to the front, still shirtless and pajama-bottom clad. Counselors protest and begin to scold them, but eventually ignore them, eyes settling on the scene in the water.
The boys must have heard the sirens and began sprinting towards the lake once they saw the cars. Or, maybe, they stole a golf cart. That’s equally as likely. Nosey, as always, these idiots.
“What the fuck?”
Pepper will never forget the expression on Tony’s face—probably not for the rest of her life. As his eyes settle on the water, the red and blue lights coating his face like paint, his mouth opens slightly agape. His eyes turn big, bigger than the full moon in the sky, and his face goes a ghostly white.
”It’s the kid.”
Emergency workers—no, is it... fire fighters? What do you call them?—are knees deep in the disgusting lake water, holding out a tarp that looks like it should hold bodies.
They lift something out of the water. A small, limp shape.
Anthony Stark shatters.
“No!!” he screams, hot tears pouring out of his eyes and down below onto the dirt. “Peter—Pete, no, please, no—“
Thor and Bruce hold him back as he thrashes and kicks.
“Oh my god,” Clint sobs.
Peter’s body is pale. Algae covered, clothes soaked. His eyes are shut, his lips are purple. He doesn’t look... human. Almost like a doppelgänger who’s only meant to look like a dead, dead version of the boy.
Tony rips himself from Thor and Bruce’s grasp, booking it towards the water. Several officers block him from his path. “Hey, hey, hey, get back!”
Fury grabs the boy, entrapping him in his arms, too strong and too hard for him to escape his grasp. “No!! P-Please!”
“Stark, stop—“
“Fuck you!”
As the firefighters lift Peter out of the water, Pepper watches as all of the teenagers’ lives change before their very eyes. She watches as the sight of a dead child settles into the souls of everyone on that lakeshore, and she watches as the world shifts on its axis.
But it doesn’t seem... right.
She watches, with a tight frown, as Peter’s frail, limp form is placed on a stretcher and wheeled onto the ambulance. Steve and Bucky hold each other closely, shaking and trembling with each choked out sob they let out.
As the Emmaus boys sob and cling onto each other, collapsing to their weak, trembling knees, she only has one thought.
That doesn’t look much like Peter at all.