Whumptober -7. Isolation

Whumptober - 7. Isolation

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

(Flash back, cont’d from last)

Tony’s been captured before, this isn’t his first rodeo.

In hindsight, it’s actually easier this time. Probably because he’s less of a civilian and has been working with the Avengers for some time now.

And probably also because he’s technically been captured twice at this point.

His biggest concern is for Peter.

Last he saw him, the kid was out cold on the floor and didn’t show any sign of waking up. Did they capture him too? Or did they leave him there?

If it was the latter, Tony tried to assure himself that Peter would be fine.

Peter’s strong and smart and resourceful. If he woke up alone, he would find his way out and he would survive. He didn’t need Tony to make sure of that. He would be fine on his own.

But if he was captured as well…

Best not to think about that.

They leave him alone most of the day, letting him spend his time slowly going mad with all the ‘what if’ scenarios he can think of.

He spends the time pacing the cell they’ve put him in, checking the walls, checking the floor, checking the bed in the corner and anything else he can get his hands on.

The problem always comes down to this.

Without the housing unit, he’s not much. He’s just a human that is too smart for his own good.

If he doesn’t have his armor, even if he still had the arc reactor in his chest, he would not be able to do much at all with it.

He needs the armor.

Meanwhile, Peter without his suit is /everything/ he is in the suit and more.

So all he can do is wait. Wait, and hope. And maybe plot some kind of escape, if they ever let him out of this damn cage.

@edensnowamethystmiranda started following you

Hi there. Are you okay, hun?

Whumptober - 3. Delirium

1, 2

Cleaning up after the explosion was easy.

The lab was back up and operating within a couple days and Peter was fully healed long before then.

But the effect it had on Tony was unprecedented. He did his best to keep it from Peter and the rest of the Avengers, drowning his panic in the middle of the night or leaving the room for a drink whenever the topic started steering in that direction.

Eventually, the lack of sleep caught up with him.

He woke at some point after passing out, tucked in his bed with the lights out, still fully dressed.

Once he watched the footage back, he realized that it was Peter that had found him and carried him off to his bedroom about an hour ago. It was a little embarrassing, but he’s been carried by women before, so maybe not really. Or maybe the reason why he felt bad about it was because, between him and his mentee, one of them was the mature one, and it wasn’t Tony.

He left his bedroom that night and grabbed a nice, aged whiskey from the collection with full plans of drowning his sorrows, but it wasn’t long before those silent feet carried Peter into the room at just the wrong time.

Tony peers up over his glass and smiles, leaning hard on the counter, “Hey, Pete.”

“I knew it,” Peter says and Tony can’t tell for sure, but the kid sounds kind of annoyed at him.

He might be a little delirious from sleep deprivation and the alcohol already working its way into his brain by the time Peter joins him, but he can still tell that something is eating at his little spider.

“The only thing that’s eating at me is you.”

Oh, he said that aloud.

Peter lifts his brows, looking unimpressed.

“Mmm, I don’t mind eating at you,” Tony mutters, taking another sip of his glass before he realizes it’s empty. He sets it down to pour more but Peter pulls the whiskey and the glass out of his reach, “Come on, Peter. Stop messing around.”

“What’s your problem?” Peter asks, brows narrowed, “I thought you were sober.”

“And I thought you were /safe/,” Tony says back, reaching out for the bottle, but Peter moves away fast enough that he plants his arm on the counter instead and nearly falls over completely.

Peter puts the bottle back behind him and turns to Tony, “This is about the lab explosion?”

“Peter… how many times do I have to see you die?”

“What?” Peter asks, startled by his change of tone.

Tony moves closer, reaching out and touching his face, “I just want you to be safe, that’s all I want… is that so much to ask? Really?”

“I’m a superhero, you need to respect that.”

“I respect-”

“I can heal, I have super strength,” Peter tells him, speaking too fast for Tony to keep up, “Why is it such a problem with you? Because I’m a kid? I’m not a kid, I haven’t been a kid for a /long/ time, and you can’t hover over my shoulder every hour of the day. I’m not your responsibility.”

Tony frowns, “You /are/ my responsibility.”

“No, I’m not!” Peter raises his voice, “I’m /my/ responsibility. I’ve been doing this since before you came along, and I’d be doing it even now, if you never had. I’m not your son. You can’t keep worrying about me-”

“Oh yes I can-”

“Why?!” Peter throws his arms out, “Why? You don’t act like this with Thor, or with… with Captain America. You don’t act like this with the Scarlet Witch or Natasha or Clint or-”

“Because I’m not in love with them!”

Peter stops and blinks in shock and Tony groans miserably, pushing Peter out of the way and leaving the room.

Enjoy? You can buy me a ko-fi or join my Patreon for lots more Starker stuff early and some exclusives, live writing etc…

What if instead of editing – and hear me out on this one – I lay facedown on the floor and do nothing

It’s so frustrating wanting to be a better writer and knowing you have the skills to do something special if you could just SLOW DOWN and not require external validation for fifteen goddamn minutes at a time!

Whumptober - 8. Stab Wound

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

(Flash back, cont’d from last)

The questioning comes, and then being shoved into ice-cold water when he doesn’t comply. See? It’s just like the first time.

The fourth time they shove him down, they don’t pull him back up.

Instead, he feels the hand let go of him and he’s tentative to come back up on his own, but he can only hold his breath so long.

Something sharp digs in at his back and he tries to fight the person off, but they back away and out of his reach.

His fingers slip back to the edge of the tub to push himself up out of the water.

Just as he starts to, he feels hands return to his neck and shoulder and he turns to shove them away as well, to attack, to do something. Maybe to make his escape, he hasn’t exactly planned it out just yet, but now seems like the best time to try something.

He throws out his fist, but his hand hits the shadowed figure as though he’s made of rock and the man doesn’t even have the decency to back away.

Tony reels in pain, still spluttering and coughing as he blinks to clear his eyes.

He first looks at his hand, then back up and he smiles in disbelief, “Peter?”

Peter’s arms wrap around him and Tony collapses against him, clutching at his skintight suit and still trying to catch his breath.

“Oh god, kid, you had me there for a moment.”

“I’m so sorry, sir, I came as fast as I could.”

“Nah, you did great,” Tony assures him, leaning on Peter as his vision starts to go black, his legs giving out under him.

Peter catches him, and Tony barely hears his panicked voice when he realizes that Tony’s been stabbed.