Rough Times

The quiet wasn't always ugly to Peter. Sometimes he could deal with it, on the days where the sky's were vibrant and everyone seemed happy.

He could deal with it when Tony woke him up by running a hand through his hair until the sensation woke him up, sleeping eyes blinking until he could fully see the smiling man.

He could deal with it when he could feel the sand beneath his bare feet as he made his way across the small community the rag-tag group of Avengers left had created, when it stuck to his feet for days, refusing to leave him.

He could deal with it when everyone sat down for dinner, when they would sign back and forth rapidly and Tony smiled at him as he signed back. When he felt full and happy, content to just lean his head against Tony's chest as he drifted off.

He couldn't deal with it when the silence grew oppressive, when the group was in town and suddenly someone would turn to him and force him on the ground, when their eyes were wide with panic as he realized it meant that one of those things were near.

He couldn't deal with it when Tony handed him the external cochlear device, when he begged him to at least try it please Peter, I swear this one will work please just try - and Peter would give in, try it and it didn't work. It never worked.

Peter couldn't deal with the lack of noise when Tony pulled him close suddenly, face blank but teeth clenched as he picked Peter up and walked carefully through the sand, and when he made to protest when Tony shook his head, signing to him that it wasn't safe.

The quiet wasn't always ugly to Peter, but it usually was.

~~~~
Before

Taking care of a grieving child was not something Tony thought he would ever be doing.

“Let’s get you in the car now Peter, okay?” he mumbled to the boy. They had been allowed to leave the hospital, encouraged even after Peter had been explained of where he would be going for the night.

Tony was carrying him then, his arms wrapped securely around Peter as the boy continued to cry and hiccup into his shoulder. It wasn't fair, what had happened to the boy but it was now Tony's responsibility to make sure he was safe.

He nodded at Happy, simply requesting that they be brought back to the Tower for at least the night. Tony already had a room semi set up for Peter, converting the usually long and narrow bed to a more child friendly one, making sure it was wide enough so that if the boy rolled over in his sleep that he wouldn't gal off of it.

Peter was mostly quiet the ride over, spasming slightly from the effort his body went through with his crying. Tears still made their way down his face and breaths still left his mouth shaking but he had calmed down some, instead opting to press himself as close as he could to Tony in the car.

When they had gotten to the tower Tony hadn't even asked the boy if he wanted to walk or not, instead opting to just carry him. Peter obliged, wrapping his arms around Tony neck as he did so.

“Best that you sleep now.” Tony mumbled to the child as they were in the elevator. He had put Peter's room next to his own on his own floor, not trusting the others with him. Which yes, was probably a shitty thing but Peter trusted him, and if anything happened to Peter in the Tower, Tony wouldn't be able to live with himself.

That seemed to rouse Peter, who lifted his head up off Tony's shoulder and looked around the elevator. His face was red and his eyes irritated from crying so heavily.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked Tony. Tony nodded, one hand reaching up to brush some stray hairs away from Peter’s forehead. Once the elevator had settled on the right floor he walked off, turning down the dark hallway with the sniffling child in his arms.

The bedroom was still, bed made and walls blank as they entered. Tony shifted Peter in his arms, leaving one free to draw the covers back.

“Let’s get you in Petey.” Tony mumbled, lowering the boy onto the bed. Peter let out a squeak of protest, reaching up to keep the man close to him. Tony drew back a bit, pulling the blankets up to cover the boy.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked then, looking down at the trembling boy. Peter's chin started to shake, tears welling up and breath hitching as Tony took a step back in shock. Oh shit, what had he had he said?

“Don't leave me!” he cried out. Peter had started sobbing again, breath hitching and stuttering out as he tried to calm down. “Don't leave me Tony!”

“It's okay, it's okay Peter I won't leave,” Tony promised, sitting down on the side of the bed. “I'm not gonna leave.” He must’ve sounded like he was gonna leave - making Peter panic. It left a pit in Tony’s stomach to think that he was the one who made the boy cry.

“Please don't leave me Tony!” Peter gasped out still, face wet and messy as he buried himself in Tony's chest. “Please don't leave me!”

“I'm not,” Tony reassured him, one hand stroking his hair and the other wrapped securely around Peter's back. “I'm not leaving Petey.”

The night was exhausting, stretching on forever for Tony. He spent it either comforting the panic stricken, soggy child or waiting to comfort Peter when he inevitably woke up.

He had only drifted off for a few moments at a time it felt like, only to be woken up either by Peter crying or FRIDAY informing him that Peter was starting to have a nightmare. By the time the child had ended up exhausting himself to the point of passing out it was well into the morning, when Tony was just about ready to pass out himself.

But first, it was a school day. And while Tony himself had never been called out of school by his parents, he knew that was something that parents did when their kids were sick. And Tony was determined to be the best guardian he could be for Peter.

After asking FRIDAY the number for the school he blearily called it, wondering if anyone would even be at the school at six in the morning. To his surprise someone did pick up, sounding as happy as Tony did to be awake.

“I'm calling in Peter Parker sick,” Tony explained. “He'll be out for some time.”

“Who are you again sir?” the woman on the other line asked. “Peter Parker has his Aunt down as his guardian.”

“I'm his emergency contact, Tony Stark.” he answered. “His aunt - his aunt is in the hospital.” Tony wasn't sure where to proceed from that, on whether it was even a good idea in general to tell anyone else. What would Peter want?

“Oh! Oh I'm so sorry Mr. Stark, of course. I'll make sure he's excused for the day,” the receptionist said, suddenly sounding more awake and flustered. “I'll see to it right away.”

“Thank you.” Tony said, tone flat as his vision began to slide. He hung up, tossing the phone carelessly on the kitchen counter next to him before stumbling to the couch and falling onto it.

“FRIDAY, wake me up if Peter is having a nightmare,” Tony mumbled to the AI. “Or if he wakes up.”

“Certainly.”

Tony nodded to the empty room, eyes shutting more than they opened as he let sleep take over.

~~~~

“Sir, Peter has awoken.” Tony woke up to the message, blinking as he sat up on the couch.

“What time is it?” he asked, looking at the bright sun that had arisen with the rest of the city. The night had been almost dream-like, going to the hospital and taking Peter home, staying up with him for hours.

“It is eleven am sir.” the AI informed him. Tony sat up then, groaning as he thought of the time. He wasn't sure he had ever slept in this late without some heavy drinking beforehand.

“Is Peter still in his room?” Tony asked.

“He's moving to the hallway right now,” FRIDAY told him. “Right towards you sir.”

That made Tony sit up, stumbling off the couch as he heard the door from Peter's room creak open and footsteps shuffle out.

When he saw Peter, the poor kid looked like death. He was pale, skin shiny from sweat and hair either matted to his head or sticking up. His eyes were red and sore looking, his lips chapped and bitten to hell.

“Hey kiddo.” Tony said, at a loss for words. What do you say to a child who just lost their guardian the night before?

“Hi.” Peter responded, walking over to the couch and flopping himself onto it. Tony walked back over and sat down next to the boy, waiting for him to continue to speak.

“Today's a school day.” Peter said eventually, voice emotionless. He rest his head on the cushion, eyes staring up at Tony.

“I called you out,” Tony explained. “You don't have to go for a bit.”

“Because Aunt May died.”

Tony swallowed hard at the words. Jesus what was he supposed to tell the kid?

“She's not - not dead Peter,” Tony said, stumbling over his words. “She's in a coma.”

“Does it matter?” Peter said, no sarcasm or bite to his words. He just sounded miserable and frightened at his situation. “She's gonna die.”

Tony didn't have any words to that. It was true, the staff had said there was no way she was going to recover from the coma, but Jesus Christ he didn't want to say that to Peter.

“I'm gonna get you breakfast,” he mumbled after a moment, retreating into the kitchen. Tony looked around, half in desperation and half in annoyance as he realized that he had almost no food. Guess a full blown fucking rift in your elite superhero squad really makes you forget about grocery shopping.

“Are PopTarts okay?” Tony asked hopelessly, staring at the last bagged case of them in his pantry. There was a moment of silence and Tony really hoped that the kid would say that it was fine.

“What type?”

“Strawberry?” Tony cringed. As soon as possible, he was writing a list and having someone get groceries. The kid needed to eat, and he knew that some kids were picky. Although when he thought back to the god awful pizza that Peter loved Tony wasn't sure he was one of those kids.

“I like them.” Peter said from the living room and Tony let out a sigh of relief. He made a mental note to add strawberry PopTarts to the list.

He walked back to the living room, food in hand. Peter was still on the couch, face still miserable and hands slightly trembling. It made Tony feel even more like shit to

“Here you go,” Tony said before awkwardly adding, “You can eat them on the couch.”

Peter didn't respond, instead nodding his thanks as he took the package. It only then occurred to Tony that the kid might be thirsty because who ate their breakfast without a drink? God, Tony was a shit guardian, he wasn't cut out to take care of anyone, much less someone like Peter.

“You want a drink?” he asked, ready to prove to himself that he was shit. Peter shook his head no though, nodding to the spot on the couch as an invitation for Tony to sit back down. He obliged, sliding down next to him and wrapping one arm around Peter as he nestled next to him.

Peter ate in relative silence, content to simply lean on Tony and stare into space as he munched on his PopTart. It was Tony who broke the silence then, clearing his throat before speaking.

“I'm gonna go down to the workshop for a bit Peter, okay? Just a couple of minutes, I promise.” Tony said, getting ready to stand up. He meant to eventually let Peter down with him, letting the kid tinker with spare parts and such. But it was important that it was as safe as possible then - even safer than what was required.

“Wait Tony! I have to do something today. I have to meet with - with someone.” Peter swallowed hard at the thought, teeth ground together as he tried not to cry. Tony raised an eyebrow but sat back down to listen to him.

“With who? A friend?” Tony asked. Peter nodded, looking uneasy still. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“I have to,” Peter mumbled. “It's really really important.”

“Who is it, Ned?” Peter shook his head no so Tony tried again. “Is it Michelle?” he shook his head again, which confused Tony. No offense to the kid at all, but he wasn't sure Peter had any friends besides those two.

“Well, then who is it?”

“An adult,” Peter admitted. “I have to see him today.”

Tony felt his spine stiffen at the words. A grown adult man? He couldn't help but feel suspicion and unease pool in his stomach, which wasn't really fair he knew. Tony himself had been a random man in Peter's life so who's to say he was the only one?

He wanted to be the only one though.

“Okay,” Tony said then, words chosen carefully and said slowly. “Who is he?”

“He's a type of lawyer,” the boy said, determined to not look at Tony. “A defense attorney. He's blind, too. I have to talk to him Tony, I really do.”

“Where even is he?” Tony asked. This was an entirely different type of headache for him, one that he wasn't quite ready to deal with at the moment. But if it was that important to Peter, he would try and understand.

“Hell’s Kitchen - but you don't have to drive me, I've walked there before and I need to go Tony -”

“Whoever he is, he can wait Peter.” Tony said, calm but firm with the boy. God this was a whole different type of nightmare. What could a fucking blind defense attorney want with the boy?

“Maybe I can't though!” Peter cried out. “Maybe I'm the one who needs to see him!” He had started to cry again, tears tracing tracks down his cheeks.

“Why?” Tony asked, tone desperate as he kneeled down in front of Peter. He had not been prepared to deal with the outburst, not realizing that he wasn't the only adult in Peter's life. What if Peter wanted to live with the other man? “Why do you need to?”

“I just do,” he said, cries tapering off as Tony pulled him into a hug. Peter rest his head in the crook of the man's neck, burrowing deep and wiping his tears on his shirt. “I just need to tell him about - about Aunt May.”

“You're exhausted Peter,” Tony started, whispering to the boy. “I'll take you some other time, yeah? And I'll meet whoever he is, if he's that important to you.”

“He's a hero too,” Peter mumbled. “Not as big as you, but he's good.”

“We'll talk about that later,” Tony said. He drew back slightly, looking at Peter as the boy hiccuped. “Is there anything else you wanna talk about though? Do you wanna talk about last ni -”

“No!” Peter said, fast and loud. He had screwed his eyes shut, face grimacing as if he was in pain. “I don't wanna talk about it!”

Tony nodded, not sure of what else to do. He knew that Peter was going to need his time, that the details were hazy about what exactly had gone down last night but Tony wasn't stupid. He knew who would have made the 911 call for May.

“That's fine, that's totally fine.” he said, hoping to avoid upsetting Peter even more. It was painful to watch the boy cry to Tony.

“I just wanna sleep,” Peter admitted, slumping back on the couch. “I don't wanna think about anything or anyone. But I really do gotta meet my friend sometime Tony, like this week.”

“Take a nap on the couch, okay?” Tony soothed the boy, leaning over and placing a hand on the boy's forehead. It was something that his own mother had done, a comforting touch when Tony had been upset or sick or hurt. “I've got something I have to do for a bit anyways.”

“Okay,” Peter said. “Will you be long?”

“Not long kiddo,” Tony promised. “Don't worry about it.” Was it his best idea, leaving a grieving child alone to sleep on a couch in a multi million dollar tower? No. But Tony had to do something, something of the utmost importance. Tony tapped the kid on his nose before standing up and making to leave.

“Bye Tony.” Peter called after him, sleepiness bleeding into his tone. He had lain down, facing away from the man. Tony knew that if the kid hadn't been so tired from his eventful night that he would be more hesitant, not so willing to let Tony go.

It wasn't like Tony wanted to leave the kid either. It was just that he needed to secure the fact that Peter was safe. When new information was given, it was important to make sure everything checked out.

“Bye Peter.” he called back to him, steps fast and purposeful as he walked away from the living room. Once he was in the elevator and certain that the boy couldn't hear, Tony began his search with FRIDAY.

“Okay, what can you find for me on blind defense attorneys in Hell’s Kitchen?”

~~~~

DareDevil.

The man who Peter was supposed to meet was DareDevil.

It was a wonder what information a good database could provide for you when you needed to figure out what the secret identities of heroes was - and vice versa.

It didn't take long for Tony to find out his identity. There were only so many defense attorneys operating specifically in Hell’s Kitchen. And only one was blind.

Really, Tony should’ve known as soon as Peter said the man was a hero. A blind hero who was located in Hell's Kitchen? It wasn't like there was tons of them running around.

Tony was going to pay the man a visit.

Tony didn't know exactly what to expect from the man, although he was hoping that Peter had been right about the man being good. If there was one thing Tony had learned from the fucking Avengers Civil War was that just because you were a hero, didn't mean you were good.

It had taken an even shorter time to discover where the man lived, and to get there. Tony supposed it should be worrying just how many doors money would open for you, but he would leave that worrying for the ones without the money. For now, it was nice to get information fast and easy.

The man lived in an apartment, one that seemed fairly expensive to Tony. Which did surprise him, since from what information that Tony could acquire was that the man didn't have too many clients. Maybe he was thief - just like that man that had turned fucking huge in his battle with Cap.

Alright, maybe it was more than a bit worrying what Tony could dig up on people.

He knocked on the door, fidgeting impatiently as he waited for the man to come to the door. Inside he could hear footsteps cautiously treading near the door, hesitating before finally the door swung open towards Tony.

And there was DareDevil. 

“Hello?” the man asked. He looked casual, the only noticeable piece of attire being the tinted sunglasses shielding his eyes. Tony had known that DareDevil was blind, but it was still a bit of a shock to realize it when he was right in front of him.

“I think we should speak.” Tony said. “Inside, preferably.”

The man tensed, possibly mistaking Tony for an enemy. Which they could be, Tony reasoned, if he had at all done anything unsavory to Peter.

“I'm Tony Stark, by the way.” he said. “Just in case you couldn't tell.” Tony hoped that even if the man didn't like him, he at least knew that he wasn't there to try and harm the superhero. At least for now.

He seemed to lose the tension, arms slackened to his sides as he nodded at Tony, gesturing the man into his apartment.

“Please, come in.”

“Nice place,” Tony said, marveling at the colored glass window panes and stone walls. The man smiled at the compliment. It unnerved Tony, the way he seemed to be looking right at him through the sunglasses.

“My name is Matt Murdock, though I can guess you already know that. Care to sit?” he gestured around the room, bathed in the tones of purple and red from the electric billboard outside.

Tony sat on one of the many couches scattered around the apartment. Matt sat down across from him, so elegantly that it was clear he had memorized the layout of the apartment.

“Now Mr. Stark, can I ask why you are here?”

“It's about Peter Parker,” Tony said bluntly. “He said he was supposed to meet you after school.”

The man's smile slipped a fraction, brow creasing at the words. “He was, yes. Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

“Matt, I'm just gonna cut the bullshit,” Tony started. “We both know what Peter liked to do after school. I know what you like to do after work, and everyone knows what I like to do occasionally.” He was bluffing slightly about whether Matt knew that Peter had been Spiderman (Spiderkid) but what else were two superhero protectors of New York talking about?

Matt nodded slowly, leaning in closer to Tony. “I'm not surprised you would know about me, on accounts that it was your mess that got my city in trouble.”

Tony rolled his eyes, standing up and walking towards the window. Of course it was his fault, everything was his fucking fault. “I'm not even going to get into that right now. I'm here about Peter. Why was he coming to you in the first place?”

“He wanted me to look after Queens a bit,” Tony nearly jumped at how close Matt's voice was. He turned around and saw the man right there, face impassive as he seemed to stare right at Tony. “Since he couldn't anymore.”

“That's all? All he did was ask you to look after Queens while he couldn't be Spiderkid anymore?” The man hesitated then, face tilted down in thought.

“We talked about family too, his uncle and such. He carries a lot of guilt about that. And you, Mr Stark. We talked about you.”

“What about me?” Tony demanded. “What did he say?” Maybe it was wrong, but he had to know what the boy thought of him. And his uncle, he'd have to talk to Peter about that too.

“He said you're his hero, that he looks up to you and such.” Matt said casually. “Said that he always looks forward to when you come around.” Tony couldn't help but feel just a bit disappointed, which he knew was shitty of him.

He wanted the kid to say he was like a father figure to him - which wasn't fair at all. Peter had just lost his aunt, and now Tony was expecting him to just move on and see him as his dad.

“Now let me ask you a question, Mr. Stark.” Matt said. “Why are you really here? I know Peter wouldn't miss his updates on Queens unless something serious happened.”

The question caught Tony off guard, thrown off by the underlying edge in the mans tone.

“His aunt had a heart attack and fell into a coma last night,” he admitted. “I'm taking care of him now.”

“That's...very not good.” the man said, shock of the revelation seeming to blow away his eloquence.

“Yeah, it's very not good.” Tony said dryly. “It's fucking shit actually.”

“Why?” Matt asked, biting his lip in deep thought. “Do you not want to take care of him? Because if that's what it is, my place is always open to Peter.”

“What? No!” Tony said. No fucking way was Peter staying with Matt. Sure, the man seemed like a good enough guy, obviously caring about Peter but Tony wasn't going to give up the boy. (His boy, he corrected in his head and then uncorrected. Too soon.)

“I just...I'm worried that I'm gonna mess up,” Tony admitted. “I don't want him to be hurt any more than he has been.”

“All parents mess up,” Matt said, tone surprisingly gentle, as if he genuinely cared about how Tony was feeling. “How you fix those mistakes is what really matters.”

“I'm not sure I have what it takes to fix them either.” he said. Tony took a step back then, glancing towards the door. He should leave, should get back to Peter. The boy would probably wake up soon, would be scared if he realized he was alone in the Tower.

“Time to go?” Matt asked. Tony started at the question. How could he possibly know that? The man was blind, there was no way he had seen Tony look at the door -

“You paused like you were looking at something,” Matt cut into his internal dialogue smoothly. “I'm guessing the door, by where we are right now.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, trying not to be a bit freaked out. That was a bit fucking weird though, that the man could just guess things like that. But who was Tony to judge? The kid he was taking care of had spider powers. “Peter’ll be wondering where I am if he's awake.”

“Say hi to him from me.” Matt said, ending their conversation. He walked Tony to the front door, opening the door without any hesitation.

“Sure.” Tony lied. He wasn't ever going to bring up that fact that he went to basically intimidate the hero that Peter had asked to look after Queens to the boy. He was certain that it wouldn't go over well.

“Oh and Tony?” Matt called after him as he was walking down the hall. Tony turned around to look at the man. “Next time, I suggest you drop the scare tactics. You're just a bit too short for it to work, suit or not. I'm blind, and even I can tell how short you are.”

Tony wasn't sure it was ethically right to flip off a blind man, but he did it anyways.

~~~~

Peter was already awake and on the couch when Tony got home. He had brought his blanket with him, cocooned inside it as he sat there.

“Hey Petey.” Tony said as the boy undid the blanket around him and ran over to Tony. His face was less red than the last time he had seen him, eyes a bit less irritated looking.

“You didn't tell me why you were leaving. What did you do?” Peter asked, not bothering to say hello back. His voice was rough and scratchy from crying for so long before, throat sore from the effort.

“Just had something to take care of,” Tony said, evading the question. He knew that Peter probably suspected that he had been to see DareDevil, but he wasn't going to admit to it right then. “It's all good now.”

“Is it because you don't want me?” Peter demanded. His eyes were red but fierce as he stared up at Tony. “Are you getting rid of me?”

“No!” Tony said. He knelt down to be closer in height with Peter. Where the fuck was this coming from? He couldn't actually think that. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Everyone dies when they have me Tony,” and then he began to hiccup again, shuddering breaths ripping through his frame. It almost seemed to Tony that Peter had held all his tears in, waiting for him to get back to release them. “It's my fault they all died Tony, it's my fault -”

“It's not.” Tony cut him off, hands firm on Peter's shoulders. “Nothing that happened is your fault Peter. It is not your fault.”

“It is Tony,” he said miserably, eyes misty as he stared beyond him. “Uncle Ben and Aunt May are both dead because of me.”

“Don't say that Peter,” Tony said, guiding his face gently so that the boy was looking at him right in the eyes. “Don't you ever even think that. It is not your fault, not ever Peter. You hear me?”

Peter nodded, face untrusting but not willing to fight further. Tony stood, dragging the boy up with him as he did so.

“Let’s just both calm down, okay?” Tony said. “We can just sit on the couch and watch tv for now. We both just need to take a breath.”

Peter didn't protest, instead shuffling after him as Tony sat on the couch, flipping through the channels. Eventually he settled on old Star Trek reruns - a show that Peter had talked extensively about enough that Tony knew the overall plot almost to heart.

Peter settled next to him, wrapping the blanket around himself and staring at the tv. Usually the boy would be spouting off the same lines as the actors, but instead he kept his mouth in a straight line, body rigid and face tense.

“Are you hungry?” Tony asked, trying to start a conversation. He didn't like the way Peter was closing himself off, when the boy thought he was too much of a burden and didn't tell anyone about what he was feeling.

“No.”

“You wanna watch anything else?”

“No.”

“Are you tired? I can turn the tv off if you are.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Do you - do you need anything?”

“No.”

The note of finality in Peter's voice made Tony shut up, exchanging the questions for worried glances at the boy. They both watched the screen in front of them, some unknown tension surrounding the air and making it almost hard for Tony to breathe.

“What's gonna happen to me?” Peter asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had fell. He sounded so miserable that Tony wanted to pull him into his arms.

“You're gonna stay with me Peter,” he said instead, simply placing a hand on the child's back. “For as long as you want.”

There was silence for a second, only broken by the sniffling noises Peter kept making and the tv.

“Forever?” Peter asked then, voice hesitant.

“Forever,” Tony affirmed, slouching a bit to look Peter more in the eyes. “As long as it’s what you want.”

“What about you?” Peter asked. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I do.” Tony answered. It was true, he wanted nothing more than for the boy to stay with him and just let Tony take care of him for the rest of his life. But if Peter wanted to live elsewhere, as long as it was a safe and loving environment, Tony wasn't going to stop him. He knew he probably wasn't the ideal guardian, even if Matt had said Peter looked up to him.

“I wanna stay too,” Peter said. His face screwed up, eyes blinking fast in attempt to dispel tears. “But I wanted to live with Aunt May.”

“I know,” Tony said, voice soft as he watched the boy. “I know you did.”

They sat in silence for a bit longer, attention focused on the noise from the tv - although both were really focused on the other. It was Peter who broke the silence first, less than hour after their initial conversation.

“Tony?” his voice was quiet, breath shallow as he hesitated.

“Yeah Peter?” Tony responded, peering at the boy. He seemed tiny on the couch, drowned in the blanket placed on his shoulders and sunken into the couch.

“I wanna see Aunt May,” Peter hesitated again, face tightened as he thought. “As soon as possible.”

“Of course kiddo,” Tony said, drawing the boy closer to him with one arm. “Anything you want.”

~~~~

It was torture to exist.

The noise was unbearable to them, loud and grating and wrong. It found its way past the protective outer plating that lined them, into the soft fleshy bits where it penetrated and burrowed inside.

It drove them to madness, the quench for silence only answered when the noise ceased, by any means necessary. They discovered the use of their sharp claws, strong bodies and plating then, protecting them from harm whilst allowing them to deal damage.

They worked in packs, dispelling noise as they went. It wasn't easy - sometimes the noise would not die. Then it was better to just move on, let someone else deal with the issue.

It was torture to exist, but not for long.