Chapter Two
Chapter Two:
Tony sat back at the seedy bar in Queens watching the team let loose just a little. They had just gotten finished taking down some DoomBots and the overwhelming majority was to go out and celebrate their current victory.
He sighed, not really feeling being out. There was a dull ache behind his eye that was promising to morph into a full blown migraine. Tony leaned over, instructing the bar tender to ask Steve to settle the tab when the group was done. The bar tender was sympathetic when Tony explained what was going on and handed Tony some Excederine Migraine and a special concoction that he swore would help. Tony hoped so. At this rate, Tony only had an hour or so before he would submit to the dark to let the migraine pass.
Tony walked out of the bar, wishing his teammates a good night shoving his hands in his coat pockets to help combat the cold, wishing that he hadn’t given Happy the week off. He wasn’t looking forward to walking though the streets of Queens to get to the subway, but it was going to be quicker at this point then calling for a car.
The gunshots reverberated through the night, sounding over the chatter and noise that was associated with Queens. There was a string of curses, probably from the assailant, followed by the sound of quickly departing footsteps. He could not, not step in anymore. Blending in was never an option due to who he was, but all anonymity flew out of the window with the words, “I am Iron Man.” On instinct born from survival instinct and training with the team, before Tony even could think, he activated his watch gauntlet, strapping it firmly in place, rounding the corner to where he heard the shots.
Tony hesitated only a moment, the darkness and dampness of the alleyway reminding him briefly of his captivity in Afghanistan, making him swallow the panic that threatened to rise to the surface. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, making Tony realize how little lights were provided in these alleyways making them the perfect area of crime to thrive.
“Hello?” Tony called out, gauntlet at the ready, a suit coming as JARVIS had called for one.
His eyes scanned the alley, landing on two prone figures far from the only source of light. In between the two there was a smaller person bending over, and only when Tony advanced on the scene was he able to see that it was a small child, not older then 10, in between a man and woman. The woman had been shot fatally in the head, the man had a mortal wound to his chest and wasn’t going to make it. The child was attempting to stop the flow of blood with his small hands.
“Uncle Ben, please don’t leave me too . . .” A small plea came out of his mouth. The man . . . Uncle Ben . . . turned and looked at Tony.
“Protect him,” Ben pleaded as Tony took a knee next to the boy, helping him apply pressure, while quietly ordering JARVIS to call law enforcement and an ambulance.
The boy’s wails are getting louder as Ben, struggled to talk to the boy. “Peter, I am so proud of you, you are my brave boy. I am going to need you to keep being strong.”
“Uncle Ben, please . . .”
“With great power comes great responsibility,” Ben managed out, looking at the both of them. “Protect him.” His eyes connecting with Tony’s begging him.
Tony nodded slightly, still applying pressure to the wound hoping that he was wrong in his assessment.
Sighing, Ben took in another ragged breath, attempting to stay strong for his nephew, but Tony could tell the man was fading fast. There was just too much blood staining the concrete alley. Memories of Yinsen flooded to the forefront of his mind.
“No . . . no . . . no . . .” The child, who Tony now knew was Peter, was chanting. “Iron Man do something! He needs an am . . ambu . . ambulance.” His eyes connecting with Tony’s for the first time. Peter’s eyes held an intelligence that Tony guess would rival his own, and there was something old and wary in his gaze as if he had lived through this before.
Tony closed his eyes, willing himself to focus on the task at hand. Tony's eyes still scanning the alley, ready to jump at any moment, protecting the boy as the uncle had asked him to.
“I called for an ambulance and police as soon as I heard the shots Buddy. They are coming, they should be here any minute now to help.” Tony continued to apply pressure to the wound, hoping that maybe there was something he could do to help him.
“They can’t help, you can’t help . . .” Anger and grief seeped out of young boy’s voice, something that should never be heard from a voice so young. It struck Tony, Peter knew.
“He’s gone, May’s gone, my parent’s are gone. Everyone is gone!” Peter wailed, flinging himself into Tony’s chest. “I want Ben, I want May.” The last was a whimper against Tony’s chest, and Tony could relate.
He lost his parents in a car wreck when he was 18, closer to 19. He remembered throwing up from the grief, spiraling into a wreck, barely functioning. Obi had allowed it to go on longer then it ever should of . . . but then again, Obi never had Tony’s best interest at heart. Rhodey had pulled him out of the abyss enough to finish schooling and had his back, always.
The sound of sirens pulled him out of his thoughts with the sound of the police and paramedics rushing to where Tony was calling for them.
They were pushed out of the way as the team worked on Ben and as they pulled a body bag over May.
Peter was clinging to Tony, as Tony pulled his jacket over the young boy, hoping to prevent shock from setting in.
The police questioned Tony and Peter. Tony didn’t have any information as he responded to the sounds of gunshots and hadn’t seen the actual shooting or events leading up to it.
Peter though saw everything and bravely described the assailants, his uncle shoving the boy behind the dumpsters shielding him from the muggers. They were walking home from the movies, taking a different route since the walkway had been overtaken by construction due to the alien invasion.
“Ben had told them that they didn’t have to do it,” Peter recalled. “He was going to give them his wallet, Aunt May had reached for her purse. But they shot her first, and then Ben,” Peter wailed.
A mugging. A simple mugging over a couple of 20s and a movie stub.
“Peter, do you have anyone that can take you?” The woman officer had asked.
“No everyone is dead,” Peter said flatly.
“I’ll call for CPS then,” she replied as she went to take Peter out of Tony’s arms.
Something felt so wrong, this woman trying to take Peter away. Peter clutched Tony’s neck tighter, and all Tony could hear was Ben asking the man to protect him.
And he said he would.
“I’ll keep him,” Tony said. “His uncle asked me to protect him.”
“And you did,” The officer stated. “You stayed and protected him. But it doesn’t work like this. There are official channels and paperwork that needs to be in place first. We also do a quick DNA run through the DNA databanks to make sure that there are no living relatives first.”
“What is going to happen?”
“We have homes that are ready for emergency placement. They are a little overextended right now due to the attack 6 months ago, but I’m sure that somewhere has a bed for him until we can find something permanent.”
“I have a bed in the tower, tons of room. I can file for temporary placement, permanent if needed. Please, his uncle wanted, asked me to protect him,” Tony implored, Peter’s grip never loosening. “Look, just let me take him tonight at least. He just lost everything he knows and it’s close to midnight. You know where I am, and I can be easily found . . .”
The policewoman looked at Tony and reluctantly nodded her head. “Don’t let anyone know about this breach in protocol.” She handed him her card. “I will be by sometime tomorrow to let you know the plan.”
Tony nodded, asking JARVIS to call for a car, the thoughts of riding the subway long forgotten.