file.exe
363 Days After the Death of Peter Parker
Damn, two o’clock already.
To be fair, staying up until 4:00 AM slaving over a computer was not at all the way a person should spend their night… or morning.
He had a good reason. In two days, all this hard work will have finally paid off. The mass-gala-lunch-thing (it had an official name but he just woke up) was right around the corner and he didn’t want to screw it up.
He’s done that a lot.
But he can’t with this.
He rolled out of bed, Pepper not there because obviously she wouldn’t. She has the ability to prioritize her day.
As far as morning routines go, Tony didn’t really have one. Self-care was practically nonexistent aside from showering daily. He’d finally reached the age where he honestly didn’t give a shit.
He noticed a box sitting outside his clear front door, so he did Pepper the courtesy of picking it up.
There wasn’t much weight to it. If he hadn’t shaken it, he would have assumed it was empty.
”Pep, did I miss a memo? Were we supposed to be getting mail from The Mysterious Benedict Society?”
Tony scrutinized the brown-wrapped, awfully suspicious looking package. Pepper poked her head around the corner of her office door.
The box in front of him reminded him of the phone he had gotten ages ago. Nothing came out of it: no prints, no data, no battery... so it was practically useless. Steve wondered if it was some kind of warning, but if it was, whoever sent it was sure taking their time in completing the threat.
Which leads to another thing, Tony Stark doesn't get boxes hand-delivered to his front porch often. Usually it's to Stark Industries or the Avengers Initiative, and that junk is usually dealt with by Fury or Pepper.
However, the box is clearly addressed to one "Anthony Edwards Stark."
A tad too formal for his liking, but who was he to criticize. ‘Couldn’t be worse than the majority of fan letters he received.
Good God, sometimes, they were hauntingly creative.
Still, something about it piqued his interest.
Having no return address was ballsy, he’ll admit. Someone didn’t want to be found.
“Let me see,” she asked. She didn’t do much other than give it a once over and shrug. “‘Could be anything, I don’t think you realize the shit you order on a daily basis.”
“Yeah, but those kinda packages at least come with an ‘UPS’ label or something.”
“Open it and find out,” she mused, shifting her attention to her buzzing phone.
He cocks his eyebrow but focuses on the box. It could be a bomb… Nah, too easy.
“Fri, scan the box.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Explosives? I dunno, anything that might scream ‘I want to kill Tony Stark.” Pepper smiled and he paused.
“Nothing detected.”
Submitting, he tore the box open. Which, again, resembled the box he got months ago. Maybe it is from the same sender.
However, inside it was something completely different.
And if he’s honest… much more horrifying.
It was mostly empty, like he’d assumed, aside from three photos, each ever more disturbing than the last as he looked over them.
The first: was a hand bound by straps to a table. It was so tight, the actual hand looked to be a darker color, and the wrist was an angry red.
As bad as it looked, that wasn’t the worst part.
The nails were gone, leaving the fingers looking raw and bloody. It looked unsettling and unnatural.
Pads of skin were torn off the balls of the fingertips as well, like someone surgically removed them.
The second: looked menacing. There wasn’t much to the photo besides a pair of dangling feet.
The feet looked clean, at least, but that doesn’t explain why they’re lax and hanging like that.
Unless… that someone is dead. Why send a photo of a dead guy… unless it was a threat.
And the last… a collar secured to someone’s neck.
It was brandished with a very outdated Stark Industries insignia. Tony hadn’t manufactured this kind of weapon in years; but, with no doubt he knew what it was.
A shock collar.
And it was being put to use, judging by the ugly blisters and irritated skin beneath.
An odd sense of guilt touched his heart. He wasn’t that man anymore, but his old tech was still being used to hurt others.
There was no way he could stop it, either.
What remains of his old self is in the wind, and clearly, whoever sent him this, wants him to know that.
364 Days After the Death of Peter Parker
Tony tried to ignore what he was sent.
After showing Pepper, she was very serious about sending the whole thing to R&D to have it analyzed. Maybe even to Natasha.
The Team, at this point, had also heard about what happened and were all keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
No matter, she did what she could to keep his mind off of it. The Parker Foundation was launching tomorrow .
Whatever threat that was looming could hopefully wait a day.
Tony found himself, again, manning everything from home.
From posting on social media, to arranging the ice sculpture, to re-enforcing security detail: he was going it all.
In the top right corner of his screen, he received an email from “Potential Spam.”
He clicked with the intention of moving it to his trash, when he saw it was an audio file… not an advertisement or bullshit tax fraud notice.
It was 15 seconds long, and he was a curious man. So, he listened...
to the sound of someone breathing through an oxygen machine.
365 Days After the Death of Peter Parker
Tony (or everyone for that matter) was apprehensive.
The past two days had been daunting for the entire team. No one knew for sure that they were going to get another ominous message, but they somehow knew it would come eventually.
The mystery of the boxes was not what Tony needed on a day like this.
It had been a year. A full year went by and he still felt a deep hole in his chest that sunk down into the pit of his stomach. He could hardly get out of bed in the morning.
But he had a charity to run and no time to waste.
He spent four hours, give or take, with Pepper getting his suit fit, hair and makeup done (makeup was minimal), and early press recorded.
He choked his way through the first set of interviews. Big faces were showing up tonight, including the most part of the Avengers and Oprah Winfrey.
Because of course Tony had to invite her.
Tony had offered tickets to Peter’s entire grade at Midtown High School and letting Ned and MJ be VIP members (and anyone else they asked for).
Not to get into the sappy detail, but many cameras caught Tony hugging teenagers and tearing up.
And everyone did when he gave his speech.
It was all about youth potential, negligence, how people change people. May Parker was one of the bravest people he knew.
Peter was the most human.
And at the end of the day… it was a huge success.
They clocked over 14 million online viewers, watching it live at home.
And over 25,000 people attended the event.
The Avengers and respective guests attended an after party that shook the Avengers Compound, shining in red and blue lights.
Tony floated between groups (avoiding the spot where eight teenagers were gawking at everyone).
He did talk to Ned at one point, but only to say he was proud. And… actually happy.
Ned was too.
Until, he got the final message.
Most had left besides the Avengers and Ned, MJ and some kid named Flash (he asked them to stay after so he could personally offer them real internships. Flash was being a straggler).
“Boss, my system is being redirected to present an email containing numerous video links.”
The room grew silent.
“Who’s doing it?”
“The email address is encrypted.”
“What ia it?”
“Subject Titled: file.exe 1-365.”
Now that's weird .
“Are you saying someone managed to email 365 video files?”
“It appears so.”
He looked at Natasha. She gave him a small nod. He looks at the teens, “Kids, party’s over. Ned, MJ: be checking your emails. I’ll want to meet with you soon.”
“But. Mr. Stark-”
“Now!” He was being harsh, but if this was anything like what he’d previously received, he didn’t want them around for it.
They wait for MJ to grab her bag and leave.
Except, they didn’t. MJ pulled them around the corner and into a nearby room, asking Friday to privately show them what the Avengers were seeing using the “Coup Protocol” Ned had installed.
Flash and Ned shared a suspicious glance, but were quickly entranced by the footage.
“Friday, are they gone?”
“They are no longer in the room.”
Odd answer, but he’ll take it.
“Play the files. Starting with the oldest date.”
Footage covered the screen, horribly pixelated. From the angle, it looked to be shot on some kind of security camera or something of the wiser.
There were obvious people shuffling around a metal table with metal clamps.
“Friday, how long is this tape?”
“8 hours, sir.”
Well, that wasn’t going to happen.
“How long is each file?”
“8 hours, sir.”
Good lord, what was on these things?
Nothing had happened yet.
“So, what?” Rhodey began. “Someone recorded their 9 to 5 job for a year and thought to send it in?”
“There’s gotta be something,” Steve added. “Friday, review this footage and tell us if anything changes.”
“At 04:24:22, significant movement occurs. Redirecting to given timeframe.”
And she’s right.
A door opens and a body is brought in on a stretcher, face down. Whoever it is has their shirt torn off and is down to scrubs and underwear.
And their back is horribly charred.
“Friday, max volume.”
The doctors pipe up on screen.
“What’s his condition?”
“Stable, but he took major burns to his back side and minor head trauma.”
“How is he alive?”
“We’re not sure. Must be a miracle.”
“Damn right, last thing we need is for our plan to be over before it’s even begun.”
“And Stark doesn’t suspect a thing?”
Tony’s ears perked at his name. He looked around the room, brows furrowed.
“Not at all. As far as he’s concerned, Peter Parker’s time of death was-“
He checks his watch.
“-about 18 hours ago.”
And that funny thing happens again where Tony can’t breathe.