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Peter clenched his fists at his side, opening and closing them in a flex. He took up a defensive stance.
‘Okay.’ He thought to himself.
‘Okay, I can do this. Just, no Spider-Man powers. I’ll be fine, I’m fine I can fight well enough. Twenty men, that’s not too many.’
Running was clearly not an option, he could only fight. Peter stood readily, waiting for someone to make the first move. One of the men stepped forward, his black mask covering his entire face. Peter heard the slight pop of his mouth opening as he sucked in air to speak.
“Alright kid.” He said, annoyance laced his voice. Peter stiffened and honed in his hearing so he wouldn’t miss anything the man said.
“Listen closely because I will only say this once.” Peter scowled at the order. “We aren’t gonna fight you, these guys are just here for precaution.” The man raised his right arm and waved his hand, gesturing to the men surrounding him. “However, Peter, we will fight if you choose to not comply with us.” He hated that the man knew his name, it just cemented the fact that this was very clearly not a random pick, they knew who he was. His Spidey-sense rang through his head.
“I’m not just going to follow you into your creepy kidnapper van, Sir” Peter emphasised the Sir, feigning formality before speaking again. “I want to know some stuff before I decide whether I’m willing to ‘comply’ or not.” He put air quotes around ‘comply’ because he knew he wasn’t going to comply with these people. The man who had spoken to Peter inhaled through his nostrils, but Peter spoke before he could get a word in edgewise. “I want to know, what you want with me, how you know my name and who yo-“ the man cut Peter off rudely.
“Hey, this isn’t a negotiation, you will come with us and comply, or we will take you. I’m telling you, you won’t enjoy it if we have to go with the latter option.” The man’s voice was heavy with contempt and he was clearly getting tired of Peter.
“Not that I loved this little chat man, but I have a test first period and I’m sure you appreciate my need for education.” Peter could hear the grinding of teeth and he smiled widely.
“You shouldn’t be such a smart ass, Peter” the man quipped back.
“It would be too damn easy for me to just scream out for help ya know.” Peter was trying to get under skin, hoping it would make the fight sloppier on their end.
“You will be screaming, don’t worry about that.” Despite the chill that Peter felt run up his spine he didn’t let it show. His senses were practically screaming now.
With that, the man nodded his head and walked back to the van as the rest of the men stepped forward toward Peter.
“So, you aren’t even gonna fight your own fight, huh?” Peter called out to the man. The man didn’t even turn around, just called back over his shoulder to the rest of the men.
“Use as much force as necessary, just don’t kill him.”
A man gripped Peter’s arm hard enough to bruise.
‘Alright, let’s do this’ Peter said to himself as he shoved the man away, shaking free from his grasp. He kicked out at another masked man as he felt his Spidey-sense in his head once again. His kick landed perfectly into the man’s left kneecap and he fell to the floor with a surprised yelp. Two sets of hands gripped his shoulders from behind and Peter jabbed his elbows sharply into both of their stomachs, hearing the air whoosh out of their lungs as he spun around and knocked them off their feet. ‘Three down, about seventeen left to go’ he told himself earnestly.
Suddenly there were two hands on both of his wrists, another set on his shoulders and, disturbingly, a fourth man right in front of him just standing, watching him. Peter jerked his shoulders, shaking off one set of hands, he yanked his arms upwards, successfully removing one of the man’s grip. He felt the hands around his shoulders again and they brushed his collarbone and he tensed suddenly. ‘No, no, no. Get off me!’ His mind screamed, and he snapped his head back, connecting with the man’s jaw and hearing a satisfying grunt as he fell back off him. The back of his head throbbed from the hit, but he felt it already beginning to ease away as he slipped out of the other men’s grip.
He was about to tackle the man who was just standing in front of him when his Spidey-sense shrilled loudly, causing him to hesitate.
The burst of pain was quick and red hot across his cheekbone. He stumbled back, grasping at his bearings as he felt a dark bruise already forming. ‘I just got pistol whipped’ his mind supplied him as the sets of hands all returned. One of the men kicked the back of his knees sharply and he fell to the ground, the sets of hands still roughly holding him in place. Peter shook his head desperately, jerking his torso and arms, attempting to free himself of the men. He felt the hands that were clenched around his left arm loosen a fraction, but before he could slip free again another two men were on him.
‘Great, just great.’ He thought grimly, now he had two men restraining each of his arms, one pressing his shoulders down and keeping him on the ground, the one still standing in front of him, not to mention the remaining men still surrounding him. Despite this, Peter didn’t stop struggling, ‘come on, I can catch freaking cars going eighty, and I can easily shake these five guys off me, but a normal person couldn’t.’
Peter stilled as the man in front of him lowered himself to eye level, his senses throbbed in his head, and his cheek stung, the bruise forming a deep purple hue to it. Without warning, there was a cloth being pressed over his mouth and nose. Peter felt his eyes burning and he smelt the chemicals, he refused to breathe in. He weakly yanked his head backward, but the mans free hand came to the back of his neck, pulling his face forward again.
‘Not good, not good, oh no. Not good.’ He thought as he began to feel the need for oxygen grow stronger, his lungs crying out. Eventually Peter had to breathe, and when he did, the smell hit him with such force he let out a heavily muffled gag. The man holding the cloth pressed harder as Peter began to feel faint, his eyes rolling back into his skull.
He was swallowed by the darkness.
When he came to he was about ten feet closer to the van and there were only two men holding him. Their grips were securely under his arms, dragging him helplessly toward the awaiting door of the vehicle. Peter noted his feet dangling uselessly below him, just scraping the pavement. He looked up quickly, feeling his neck crack at the movement. He kicked out at the man walking in front of him, his back turned.
‘Oh shit’ he thought as he was unable to mask the strength of the kick and the man flew forward, slamming into the side of the van and falling to the ground seconds later with a baffled look on his face.
“How the hell is this kid awake already” he heard someone shout.
“You obviously didn’t give him enough of that stuff you idiot” another rang out. Peter was too stunned at his inability to hide his strength that he didn’t notice the man behind him whip another hit to the back of his head with the butt of his gun.
‘That hurt’ he thought as he felt himself slump again, not even trying to fight anymore, feeling dizzy as white spots filled his vision and blackness danced over his glazed eyes once again. He dropped his head, watching as the spinning pavement below him swirled into the dark floor of the van.
He rolled his neck, so his head was up again, feeling fuzzy as his vision rocked again.
‘Definitely a concussion’ he noted sourly. His eyes met the man who spoke to him first, and he felt another shiver run through his body as the man removed his mask and smirked down at him.
He looked younger than Peter would have expected, dirty blonde hair and clean-shaven face. His eyes were greyish in the light of the van and they seemed to roam across Peter’s body dangerously. Peter fidgeted under his gaze, feeling more uncomfortable and fearful for each second he was being held here.
The man motioned with his finger for him to sit and he frowned as he stayed standing.
“Sorry, I’m a bit tied up right now, sitting isn’t really an option” Peter said with as much indifference in his tone as he could muster right now. The man nodded his head and another blow to the back of Peter’s legs sent him down to the floor on his knees once again. He breathed in through his nose as the interior of the van began to sway.
“So, Peter. Reconsidering your choice now?” The man questioned, a smug look gracing his face.
“Not exactly, I still have a test first period which I’m definitely missing right now.” The man looked almost disappointed as he waved his hand and bent down to Peter’s eye level. Once again, the blow to the side of his face came as a surprise because he had been tracking the man’s movements carefully.
Peter felt the van jolt forward and begin moving, resulting in a prick of fear to burst deep within his stomach. The space still twisted around him and his cheekbone and jaw now ached together, Peter could even taste the unmistakable rusty flavour of his own blood in his mouth. He leaned forwards and spat the offending liquid pooling in his mouth onto the floor of the van. The man in front of his wrinkled his nose in disgust.
“I really wish you wouldn’t keep doing things like that, because I don’t have to hurt you, but when you don’t comply, it makes me want to.” Peter wanted to shoot back a snarky remark, but his cheek still tasted like rust and the spinning wasn’t subsiding. The man stood then, his hands clenching and un clenching, face pinched in anger.
“I don’t want the kid knowing how long the drive is, knock him out again, and properly this time.”
Peter looked up from the floor, eyes scanning for anyone approaching him, the man noticed this and spoke again, “don’t fight this, you’re wholly outnumbered and it will be less painful if you just shut up and go to sleep for a while.” Peter shook his head, immediately regretting the decision as everything swung around him, and felt a sharp pain in his neck, which he failed to jerk away from in time.
Before he knew it, the darkness was surrounding him, and he fell into it.
----
Tony watched, with a raised eyebrow, as the kid shovelled the sixth piece of toast into his mouth. He stretched his face into an emphasized ‘gross’ look and smiled as Peter rolled his eyes and rounded the table behind him. He felt the Kid’s small arms wrap around him gently.
“See you this afternoon afterschool Dad,” he smiled to himself, being called Dad never got old, he tightened his grip on Peter.
“Yep, see you then Pete, have fun at school, good luck for that quiz” he said easily, knowing the boy had been stressing about it the past few nights. Peter stepped away from the hug and grabbed his bag before replying,
“Will do, see you later Dad!” He yelled as he headed into the elevator. Tony looked down at the plates and, despite the mess, smiled, he loved his Kid.
Although he would normally head to the meeting Pepper had organised for him and then get some work done till Peter’s curly, brown locks bounced their way home, he had nothing to complete today. After the plates were cleaned the mechanic headed down to the labs, planning to tinker and experiment away until Peter got home.
He was welding happily with ACDC in the background when his phone rang. The mechanic flipped his helmet off and turned off the heat.
“Answer the call F.R.I” he called out as he placed his gloves down and wiped his forehead.
“Hi, am I speaking with Mr. Parker?” A nasally female voice rang through his office and F.R.I.D.A.Y lowered the music automatically as he replied.
“Yes, this is him, what are you calling in regard to.” The number was familiar but obviously hadn’t been important enough to save as a contact.
“This is reception for Bronx High School of Science. I am calling to inquire about Peter Parker–“
“Yeah, that’s my son” he cut her off sharply, wincing inadvertently at his parental concern.
“Yes, I am aware. I’m just here to ask if he is coming to school today.” Tony’s stomach dropped, he felt fear rising in his throat as the woman continued speaking.
“He has missed the first three bells this morning and, unless he has deliberately skipped school today, you need to call in to let the school know when he’s sick.” The woman had taken on a condescending tone to her voice and normally it would irritate him but now, Tony’s gut was twisted with a bad feeling. ‘Peter would never skip school like that,’ he thought warily.
“Yes, I understand this, and I apologise for not giving you notice of his absence today.” He heard a pause, the shuffling of paper and then her voice picked up again.
“Thank you, Mr. Parker, we will notify his remaining teachers of his absence today, next time please call before the first period to let the school know.” He hung up after she gave him the spiel about calling in on time. ‘There’s no point worrying the school right now, who knows, maybe there was a mugging on the way to school and Spider-Man had to step in.’ Tony tried to reassure himself, but he couldn’t stop the bad feeling clawing inside him.
Tony dialled Peter next, it went straight to voicemail all four times he called. Tony sat down heavily on his chair and rolled over to his desk.
“Can you trace the phone F.R.I?”
“I am unable to trace the phone as it appears to be turned off.” The AI’s voice replied after a minute and Tony’s unease grew with her answer.
“Can you get access into all security cameras on Peter’s route to school?”
“Checking now Mr. Stark.” There was silence for a minute, leaving Tony to hear his own thumping heart and try calling Peter’s cell once more.
“I have the footage here Sir,” that brought some comfort to him.
“Run facial recognition for Peter.” There was another pause, then her voice confirmed and a screen with the footage popped up before his eyes.
It was mostly grainy and as he watched Peter walk the camera view switched every few minutes. It was uneventful, and Tony was beginning to think about checking the footage of the school halls when Peter suddenly stilled to the side of the footpath, ripping his headphones out and snapping his head around.
‘Had he heard something? Were his senses alerting him to danger?’ Tony’s thoughts ran wild until Peter hesitantly put one headphone in and began walking once again, still obviously looking around at his surroundings. The footage didn’t have any audio and Tony wondered if he had just missed someone calling out and Peter was perfectly fine, but the feeling of dread inside him was growing with every dart of Peter’s eyes. He watched him walk for about another ten minutes till he put both his headphones back in. The teen turned down a side street and the camera angle switched to one that captured part of the road and the entry into an alley way.
Peter still seemed on edge, looking around at his surroundings until something caught his eye, and Tony noticed it as well. A dark van, with no licence plates, was parked on the opposite side of the road.
The van wasn’t what made fear grip Tony’s heart like ice, wasn’t what made him shiver in dread or what made him grab the table top as panic coursed through his body. It was the man, dressed in all black clothing, in line with his kid, on the other side of the road. Peter obviously noticed him too, because his shoulders hunched, and he stuffed his headphones away, quickening his pace and turning down the alley way and away from the man.
Tony watched in horror as the man crossed the street, motioning his hand at something and stepping into the alley way not soon after Peter.
The camera angle only showed the street and the entry into the alley, and Tony hated how he didn’t have eyes on Peter or the man that was obviously following him. He felt his eyes widen and his brows furrow in anger as he watched the van pull up in front of the alleyway, blocking Peter’s exit.
“F.R.I? Get me a camera angle from the other side of the alley.” There was a beat, then the screen presenting the footage split into two different perspectives. Tony could still see the end of the alley Peter had entered from, and now he could also see the end he was supposed to exit from. It was now blocked with a second van.
Tony watched in trepidation as the van doors slid open and men burst out, running into the alley with black masks covering their faces.
“I am unable to identify any of these men or run facial recognition on them.” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice told him, reading his thoughts. Tony cursed under his breath as he sat, watching the van block Peter’s exit and stared at the blank wall of the alley, waiting for something to happen. About ten minutes passed before he saw movement, the shadows of the men in the alley moved forward.
‘What are they doing? Are they attacking Peter? Were they hurting him?’ His mind raced, and he wanted nothing but to step through the screen and just help his kid.
Abruptly, the first man who trailed Peter into the alley stepped into frame of the camera. He sat down in the van and watched the alley intently, his ankles casually crossed, arms holding the edge of a seat in the van.
A few minutes passed before he stood, shuffling deeper into the van, the darkness covering him like a sheet, so Tony could only just make out his outline. A few men piled back into the van, some, if not most, of them were either limping or softly rubbing their sides.
‘That’s my kid, give them hell Pete.’
Then, one more person entered the frame, or, flew into it. He slammed into the van, falling to the pavement before sitting up carefully with an incredibly shocked look on his face. Tony winced, not in pity, but in fear of the men realising Peter’s identity. No normal kid of his size could ever have enough strength to do that to a fully-grown man.
Peter was dragged into the view of the camera and Tony bit his lip as he saw the state the kid was in.
Although the footage was grainy and spotty, he could make out the deep bruise already formed on the teen’s cheekbone. He looked dazed, as if he had just woken up ‘crap, did they drug him?’ As if in answer, one of the men spoke. Tony couldn’t hear from the footage, but he called out to the A.I, hoping the clip was good enough quality to read lips.
“I am unable to say for sure, but I am fairly certain this is what the men are saying. ‘How the hell is this kid awake already,’ and ‘you obviously didn’t give him enough of that stuff you idiot.’”
‘So, they did drug him, it must have worked its way out of his system quickly then.’ Tony hoped the men didn’t question Peter’s increased metabolism too much.
Tony looked back at Peter, only to witness one of the men cracking him in the back of the head with a gun. He went limp in the men’s grip, his head lolling to the side then back down to the concrete again.
Tony watched, paralysed and glued to the screen as the men dragged an unresponsive Peter into the van and the doors slid shut, the vehicle staying still for a few more minutes before driving off and out of the camera’s reach.
He attempted to track the van across town, but he lost it and the one not holding Peter after quarter of an hour. He slammed his fists down onto the table, sweeping loose papers and stationary onto the floor in his fit of rage.
Eventually, his rage gave way into his panic. ‘My kid, my kid. Oh God, Peter. I’m sorry, I’m coming, I swear I’ll find you.’ He wiped at his face, surprised to feel moisture under his eyes. He laid his head down onto the desk, feeling helpless. ‘Can’t track his phone, can’t track the vans, can’t run facial recognition, can’t do anything to help his kid. His responsibility.’
No. This wasn’t what he was like. He needed to stay calm, for now. He needed a plan, something to do, there were always other options.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y, pull up the address of where you got that footage from, send the directions to my suit, I’m heading over.”
He let the suit connect over his workshop clothes, the faint glow of the arc reactor pulsing to the beat of his panicking heart.
He landed, less than ten minutes later, the fact that Peter hadn’t really made it that far from home when he had been taken. He looked up at the store, a rundown jewellery shop with cracked brickwork and the trusty camera pointing down at the street. Tony stood for a moment where the van had been parked. ‘The kid had been here, just this morning. God knows where he was now.’ The thought struck Tony then, that Peter could be out of the country by now. He shook away that idea, it was unlikely.
He stepped into the store, his suit had materialised into a briefcase and he paid no notice to the fact that he was underdressed in the store, for once in his life. He smiled kindly at the old man behind the counter, he must have been in his late fifties, early sixties.
“Hello Sir, can I be of any assistance?” The man said slowly, returning Tony’s smile.
“Uh, yeah actually. I was wondering if you saw this kid earlier this morning, or perhaps heard any commotion outside?” Tony held up his phone for the man to see, it was a picture of Peter from a few days ago, holding a can of soda and sitting at the table, a book on physics in his hand. The man frowned, obviously taken aback at the questions.
“Unfortunately not Sir, nobody was here this morning, we open the store later on week days. I can get you the security footage if that would help, there’s a camera out fro-” Tony cut him off quickly.
“No, no. That’s alright, thank you anyways.” He stepped outside, feeling disheartened once again. ‘Another dead end,’ he thought grimly. How was he going to track Peter down? How in the hell, was he supposed to find his kid and get him home safe before anything else happened to him?