I Trust You
Tony felt the little heat radiating off the boy in his arms. The kid, Peter, had his arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, his legs curled up and pressed between his stomach and Tony’s chest. His feathers were rustling in the wind, and yet they were so weak from all the years of malnutrition and mistreatment.
Tony sighed quietly, closing his eyes briefly as his wings continued to pump and the nest of curls beneath his chin tickled his skin. He didn’t know how far he wanted to go, in fact, the most he knew was that he had to get the poor kid as far as possible from the HYDRA base.
“Is this your first time flying?” He asked with a huff, forcing his wings to keep pumping.
“Uh huh,” Peter breathed out, tucking his face a little closer over Tony’s shoulder to watch the sky. The two of them were silent for a moment, just listening to the trees rustling far below them, the soft sounds of Tony’s feathers as he flew. “It’s so pretty, Sir.”
“You don’t have to call me Sir. I’m not your superior, nobody is… you and I, we’re the same. You can call me Tony, kiddo,” he said without authority. He felt Peter’s chin shifting, and a moment later he was staring into large, brown irises.
“Tony,” Peter repeated quietly. “You’re like me?” He asked, as if to make sure he had heard correctly.
“Yeah, kid. You’re nothing less than me, you’re smart and a heck of a lot braver than me.” Tony smiled warmly at the boy in his arms, watching him processing the information.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Thank you, S – Tony. Thank you, Tony.” Peter went back to resting his chin against Tony’s shoulder as he felt the man shifting his weight to hold him more securely.
“We’ll fly to the middle of this forest and then we can walk until it’s time to set up camp for the night,” Tony called over the dull roar of the wind. The curls moved against his chin and he assumed Peter had nodded.
The flight wasn’t difficult, Peter was… worryingly light, so it didn’t make much difference. What made the most impact was the cold. Between the two of them, they had a slightly soaked shirt as well as a dry one, black pants from the guard Tony had tasered, a lab coat and a dark jacket, also from the guard.
Tony craned his head to look at Peter. The boy’s eyes were fixated on the sky, his eyelids weren’t drooping in the slightest, in fact he looked more awake than the moment he had thrown himself off a cliff and into Tony’s arms.
Peter looked content, aside from his quickly paling lips. From Tony’s position, he could see Peter’s small fingers fisted in the front of his shirt, and the blue tint creeping up from his nail bed. “Okay, change of plans, kid.”
Peter looked up, blinking confusedly as Tony began to descend towards the nearest small gap between the trees. He looked like a small, distracted meerkat as his eyes flickered to all the nature and movement as Tony sunk below the treeline.
“Wh – why’re we stopping now?” Peter asked nervously, casting a weary glance behind him, looking for any of the search vans he knew HYDRA were willing to dispatch if he ever escaped.
“Because,” Tony panted, “you’re shaking like a leaf.” He gently set the boy down, his bare feet squishing into the damp but soft bed of pine which made up the forest floor. He tugged the lab coat off his waist and got down on one knee, holding out a placating hand. “I know the people… the people who hurt you used to wear these, but I also know that you’re cold. So, I’m gonna help you put this on, just until we get to the next town, okay?”
Peter cast his chin downward, rubbing his upper arms with his cold palms and nibbling the bottom of his blue-tinted lips.
“O – okay… okay,” he resigned. He flinched slightly as Tony rose, but he steadied himself quickly and shoved his arms through both of the large sleeves. He turned back around and adjusted the coat, looking back to Tony, waiting for a reaction.
“Alright, it doesn’t exactly fit… you’re swimming in it, but its all we have and its better than letting you freeze. All good, kiddie?” Peter blinked, still looking up at him, waiting for… something. “You okay? What’s up?”
“D – did I…” he began quietly, trailing off and gnawing at the inside of his cheek. “Was I good, Sir?” The boy watched Tony with shining eyes, waiting for praise Tony realised.
“Yeah, real good Pete. Like I said, you’re brave.” Tony reached forward slowly, he tucked both edges of the coat closer into Peter’s torso, hoping it would keep the boy warmer. “Just Tony though, alright?” Peter opened his mouth before shutting it as he realised his slip up.
“Sorry,” he whispered. Tony shook his head, holding out his arms for Peter to clamber back into, so they could take off once more.
“It’s okay,” he replied with a small smile. He worried about the boy, about how conditioned he was, and how difficult it would be to break that.
----
They had flown for almost four hours, and Tony’s wings were finally beginning to grow tired, although Peter’s iron grip around his neck hadn’t loosened once during the entire flight. They could see a large clearing far off in the distance, a few artificial lights glazed the horizon and Tony could tell it was a small town.
“I think we’re close enough,” he declared, bringing them back down to the ground. “I don’t want to land any closer, in case someone sees the wings.” Peter stepped back onto the pine bed, stretching his arms out shakily.
Tony ran a hand through his hair, shivering as a breeze picked up. “It’ll be an hour’s walk from here,” he mentioned. “You need something to protect your feet though.” Tony furrowed his brow, thinking hard as he stared at both of their feet. “Wear my socks, I’ll wear the shoes, so you don’t get blisters, but you’ll still have protection.”
“Okay,” Peter murmured, taking what Tony handed him and slipping them over his cold feet before falling in step with the taller man. “Thank you.”
“You can stretch your wings out,” Tony reminds him, eyeing the way the boy still had his wings pressed firm against his back.
“Hurts,” Peter mumbled.
“What? Extending your wings?” Tony slowed slightly, moving out to see whether Peter had been injured or shot without his knowledge.
“N – no, no I’m okay. They’re just – just stiff,” Peter admitted, letting his feathers peek out from beneath the jacket.
“Can I… can I check them? I’m worried they’ve atrophied, kid…” Tony pictured the times where he hadn’t used his wings for weeks at a time, from how busy he was, sometimes he just didn’t have the time to stretch them out enough. They stung with a rigidity that no one could understand, aside from Peter apparently.
Peter lifted the lab coat, untucking it from his wings and pulling it over his chest, so Tony could make sure his wings weren’t damaged. “Okay, really carefully unfold them for me now, kid.”
Peter exhaled and uncurled his wings slowly, wincing as the muscles tightened and he heard the soft pop of a bone cracking. “Alright,” Tony said quietly. “Can you let me –”
“Ah!” Peter jumped forward, darting away from Tony as he felt the brush of a finger against one of his feathers. “Sorry, sorry S – Tony… I – I um, I don’t wanna… n – no touching please.”
Yellow gloves. Hands, too many hands. Feathers being tugged. Laugher, ringing around the operation table. Hands on his feathers, drowning out the laughter, muffling every sense aside from the feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong.
“That’s okay, hey Pete – kid, that’s okay. Look, buddy no touching, see? You said no, I’m listening to you, it’s okay. You’re okay, Peter.” Tony watched the way the boy’s feathers quivered, the way his shoulders hunched, his body curling in on itself.
He didn’t know what to do, not only had he never coached someone other than himself through a minor anxiety attack, but he had never met Peter before. He didn’t know what exactly had been done to him – what was causing the distress or, more accurately, the flashback.
Tony took a breath, leaning forward and waving his hand slightly, smiling softly as Peter looked up with wide eyes. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You’re okay now, kid. Just breathe, steady – there you go, good job.”
“I… I don’t…” Peter panted, squeezing his fists in the lab coat and holding back a gag when he smelt the antiseptic in the lining of it. “S’ hot,” he mumbled incoherently, peeling back the fabric, much to Tony’s dislike.
“No – wait, kiddie it’s freezing. Pete, you can take it off but at least put this on instead,” he took of his own jacket, it was dark and probably thicker. Peter was shaking as the lab coat hit the ground, a muddy green pine colour coated the back of it. “Here,” Tony insisted, helping Peter button the jacket up and zip it up over top. “Hopefully it’ll work like a wetsuit, trap your body heat so the dampness of your shirt gets warmer.”
“Th – thank you,” Peter mumbled, tucking his hands into the sleeves and hugging himself tightly as he stumbled forward, not wanting to hold Tony back. “We can start walking, it’s okay,” he pressed.
Tony eyed him wearily before nodding and trailing after him. He watched the boy, making sure he wasn’t going to collapse under his own weight or get blown away by a gust of wind. He was tiny, the coat didn’t make much difference, his legs were skinny, and his arms trembled when he squeezed the coat.
“You’ll tell me if you’re tired or sore, right?” He called.
“Yes. I promise,” Peter said calmly. “I’ll be okay, I have good endurance.” Tony frowned, remembering how Peter froze up and begged with him after the guard with the cigarette in the stairwell mentioned the treadmill.
“Did they train you to build your endurance?” Tony blurted, biting his lip and realising the poor kid was probably triggered by things like that.
“Yes and no,” Peter answered, shrugging unconfidently. “Half of it was the training, building up endurance, and the other was being surgically enhanced, so I can run for longer.” He pulled the edges of the coat and Tony looked down quickly. “I have scars,” Peter whispered, self-consciously tugging the coat down to cover a few lingering purple marks that ran across his thighs and calf muscles.
“I have scars too,” Tony said, hoping to appease the boy. “I grew fast,” he says simply. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he says honestly. “It’s not like they’re ugly or anything, I mean.” He shrugs too, hoping to draw the tension away from the topic.
He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but he felt the need to make sure Peter was comfortable. It might have had something to do with the fact that he knew how horrid the poor kid’s life had been – he hadn’t even been outside until this point – so, Tony adopted the role of a cushion, hoping to soften the sharp edges of the situation they were in.
“Thank you,” Peter said softly. “You’re nice,” he added on, shyer this time. “Why are you being so nice to me?” His voice was barely a whisper now.
Because you’re my son. You were stuck in there for years and I never saved you… I didn’t even know you existed. I’m changing that.
“Because you don’t deserve a life like that, nobody does,” he says sincerely.
“Oh.”
Tony looked up, focusing on Peter and suddenly feeling a flare of anger, not for the boy, but for the fact that he didn’t understand he deserved to be treated better.
“Pete, you were nothing more than an experiment to them – a test subject. You’re so much more, you shouldn’t have ever been at HYDRA in the first place.” You’re my son… You were supposed to be with me… “I… I just – I can’t believe anyone could hurt you.”
Peter flushed, his cheeks reddening and his nose scrunching up as he tried to contain the blush. He looked to the ground and rubbed a hand over his arm.
“I can’t believe you saved me…” He admitted. Tony’s eyes softened. This boy was something else.
“Of course I did, you were being mistreated,” Tony said simply.
Leaves and sticks crunched under their feet. Peter winced every few steps, Tony worried about his wings and how much they must have atrophied after being cooped up for days, months… maybe even years.
He could see their breath in the air, hanging like a cloud of ice particles. Tony wanted to tuck the tiny boy under his wing. He had little body mass, not to mention the lack of body fat. He was shivering, his teeth gnashing together as his shoulders shook. If his wings were proportionate to his body mass, he could have used them as a way to block the wind.
“T – Tony?” Peter asked through chattering teeth. The breaching of the comfortable silence between them surprised Tony for a brief moment. “How di – did you find me? I m – mean how did you kn – know I needed saving?”
Tony closed his eyes… how was he supposed to answer that?
It wasn’t like he could be honest and break out with the truth – HYDRA wanted me back because I’m the original subject, I’m your father because you were just a clone of me.
“I um… HYDRA found out about me – and my wings – so, I hacked into their servers to figure out who they were… then I found your records and – well um… I couldn’t just leave you in their care.”
Peter looked up at him with wide eyes, blinking curiously. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then spoke.
“So… you were an experiment too? Like me?” Peter’s voice was open and innocent. Tony’s heart wobbled dangerously in place. Who had taught this poor, innocent kid that they were nothing more than a science experiment?
“Uh… y – yeah, kinda,” Tony managed, pushing himself to walk faster, hoping the subject would change. How long could he keep the secret? How long until he had to tell the boy he was his father?
“Oh…” Peter mumbled sadly. “Did they hurt you too?” He asked, his head quirking to the side. Tony shook his head, guilt bubbling in his stomach. “That’s good,” Peter chirped happily. “You’re not supposed to hurt nice people,” he pointed out matter of factly. As if he himself wasn’t the purest soul out there.
“How do you know I’m a nice person?” Tony asked, self-deprecation creeping into his tone. Peter looked up at him sincerely, his eyes alight with belief in what he was saying.
“Because you saved me.”
----
They had been walking for almost two hours. Peter had been chasing the silence away with endless questions.
“What are the stars like?” “Have you ever seen rain?” “When did you learn how to fly?”
Tony smiled, keeping the boy entertained with his answers and grinning wider when he saw the enraptured expression on his face. Peter clung to every word, treating Tony as if he wasn’t the absent father who had lived in ignorance for fourteen years, not knowing his own son had been hurt by HYDRA day after day.
In some sense, Tony knew it wasn’t fair to blame himself for what had happened to Peter, but he couldn’t help feeling like he should have figured it out sooner… Then perhaps the kid would have a better chance at recovering and becoming a normal teenager.
“Next bit of shelter we find will be our camp for the night, hopefully we can find a big tree or something,” Tony said, talking to himself more than anyone else. “The town isn’t too far up ahead, maybe a ten-minute walk.” He scanned the trees as they passed. He could see the sky was grey through the treetops, and he didn’t want Peter’s first night outside of a cage to be damp and cold.
He didn’t want to shatter the illusion that the boy had. He didn’t want to ruin the idea that nature was all unseen beauty to the kid. Peter deserved that, he deserved to see things he had never seen before.
Tony had known the kid for less than a day and he already knew that Peter deserved the stars and the moon he so desperately wished to see. He already knew that Peter looked to him as if he had hung them in the sky.
“Is this good, Sir? Um, o – oh, sorry – Tony. Is this good, Tony?” Peter was pointing to a small dip in a rock wall. It resembled a sort of cave-like structure, and it would definitely keep them mostly sheltered from wind and rain.
“Yeah, kiddie,” Tony said with a soft look in his eyes. “You did good.” Peter smiled and looked down at his sock covered feet. His cheeks shifted to a darker shade of pink and he seemed to be keeping a lid on how much Tony’s praise pleased him. “Okay,” Tony said, clapping his hands together, “this should work.”
Peter crawled into the small space, tucking his knees beneath his chin and slowly curling up like a small cat following routine. Tony shuddered when he realised Peter probably was following routine, seeing as the size of the dog crate cage would have prevented him from sleeping any other way.
Tony bunched up next to Peter, spreading his wings and rolling his shoulders before getting fully situated. He reached out and began brushing his own feathers from the base to the tip, stroking them downward so they were all angled the best for aero dynamicity.
He looked over at Peter, running his eyes over the uneven, frail feathers covering his small wings. “You want me to help you groom?” He asked. Peter perked up, looking over his shoulder at Tony and tilting his head in confusion.
“Help me… groom?” Peter repeated, his voice raising at the end of the sentence, like he was asking a question.
“Yeah, your wings,” Tony explained, running a hand over his on wing as a demonstration.
“Oh, um… I’ve – I never –” Peter cut himself off, biting his lip as he stretched out one wing gingerly. “I don’t know how,” he continued quietly. Tony lifted a hand before realising the boy probably wouldn’t react well to an assuring hand on his shoulder, so he left it hovering.
“That’s okay. I can teach you if you’d like, I can help you stretch too.” Tony paused, thinking for a moment. “If you stretch them out, build up some muscles and let me help you out, I reckon we can get you flying on your own.”
“I… you mean…” Peter trailed off, pointing upward at the sky. “You mean up there, flying? With my wings?” Tony smiled, loving the spark of hope that glinted in Peter’s eyes. He nodded, watching Peter wriggling in place as he stretched out his wings more.
“But first you need to eat a full meal, get some water, warmer clothes and maybe a shower too.” Peter smiled and shuffled closer to Tony, not realising how much the tiny gesture of trust warmed the man’s heart. “C’mere,” Tony said, opening his arms and gesturing to Peter’s wings. “Let me know if anything hurts, okay? I’ll be really gentle.”
“Um… c – can you show me how t – to do it myself, please?” Peter asked softly.
“Of course,” Tony said, slightly disheartened. “Just run your hands over your feathers, brush them all into the same direction and wipe away any dirt and things.” He watched Peter following his instructions, nodding encouragingly when Peter tilted his body back and forth to show off the feathers which weren’t as scruffy as they had been five minutes beforehand.
“They feel nicer like this,” Peter pointed out, running a hand over his left wing and wrapping it around his shoulders like a self-hug. “Thank you, Tony.”
And for the first time, Peter didn’t stutter, he didn’t pause or have to catch himself. He simply called his saviour by his name, Tony, as opposed to what he had been taught to say, Sir.
“No problem,” Tony sighed, leaning against the wall and carefully resting his cheek over onto his own shoulder. “You can stretch out, its okay,” he nodded, encouraging the boy to uncurl and spread out.
“Mhm,” Peter mumbled, timidly lifting his head to lay it amongst the pine needle pillow beside Tony’s hip. The two were silent for a moment, Tony was content while Peter was biting his tongue, wondering whether he should speak or not.
Peter shifted, chewing his thumb nail anxiously as he watched Tony blinking tiredly. “Thank you for saving me,” he choked out, his voice breaking.
Tony was surprised to see the reflection of his wings in the boy’s watery eyes. Peter stared up at him with shining and unwavering devotion. “Thank you,” he repeated, wiping his cheek with a dirty palm.
“Oh, kiddie,” Tony breathed, rolling onto his side. His fingers twitched, he wanted to wipe away the dirt before Peter’s tears spilled down his cheeks and made a watery, muddy mess. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s so okay,” he promised, letting the boy wrap a small hand around his wrist.
“Y – you s – saved me,” Peter stuttered, holding Tony’s hand and not leaning away when the man gently lifted a hand and oh so gently lifted his head into his lap.
“You’re free now, Pete. Don’t cry,” Tony urged, hating to see the poor kid melting into his lap like the touch-starved boy he was. “You’re gonna see the stars, and tomorrow we’re going into town, you can pick out your own coat, sleeping bag, anything you want. It’s yours.”
“I just wanna be safe for once…” Peter admitted softly.
And it hurt, the kid sounded so young.
Tony bit the inside of his cheek, wondering whether he had the right to say what he was about to say.
“I will,” he said slowly. “I’ll keep you safe.” And as if that statement alone appeased Peter, he blinked twice, closed his eyes, and nestled his head down in Tony’s lap. Completely trusting.