Tony Stark one shots

Who is spiderman?

"Peter." The automated voice breaks a fidgety silence like a sudden alarm. Blue computer light penetrates the otherwise pitch black room, making Peter squint. An alert pops up on the screen.

Peter's fingers freeze over the keyboard. "FRIDAY?"

"Peter, I cannot allow you to override my security again," the AI states flatly. "The protocols have changed."

"What?" A week ago, Peter wouldn't have imagined he'd get to the point of arguing with Mr. Stark's AI. But then, a lot of things have happened since then that he wouldn't have imagined. "What do you mean, changed?"

"You can't watch the video."

Peter swallows. Other kids might have other reasons to hack into SI's most advanced systems. For information, for a dare. Just his luck to be different. Just his luck to be the kid breaking in to watch some kidnappers' torture videos.

Torture videos of Mr. Stark.

"So there is another one," he says carefully, starting to type. "But you never stopped me before."

FRIDAY blocks Peter's code with another alert message. "I activated mandatory barriers—"

"You put Colonel Rhodes off my scent." Peter's fingers fly across the keyboard now. "Why isn't today's video exempted by the 'Points for Effort' protocol, FRI? What's different about this one?"

Peter knows there's something different about this one.

Three days after Mr. Stark disappeared, SI had begun to receive videos. Footage. Never a demand, never any information, never anything more than Tony Stark being tortured in several different ways for five to seven minutes, some intimidation play or whatever the hell this was. One video a day.

And no one but FRIDAY knows Peter has been watching them, too.

But today there'd been even less talk around the Compound. Today Peter caught a couple of furtive glances his way. Today Ms. Potts had asked to talk with him, and Peter thought she'd finally broach the subject, but she seemed to change her mind in the middle of the conversation.

Today was off.

"Damn it, FRI," Peter hisses when another attempt is thwarted. "And don't give me the speech about protecting me, it's not gonna work." He swallows down the building frustration. Hey, what's another emotion to suppress in this hell of a week. It can play in his stomach with Mr. Worry and Ms. Guilt.

"I calculate viewing this footage will be detrimental to your mental state, Peter."

"My mental state," Peter laughs.

The folder Peter had been working on opens, against FRIDAY's protocols, and Peter types even faster.

"The contents of this video are along the same vein as the others, but some information is revealed that... changes the situation."

"Then I have to know," he snaps. "You wouldn't understand, you know everything."

"Not everything," FRIDAY replies, and Peter is struck by how human her voice sounds this time. How regretful.

"I get—" Code. Firewall. Override. "I get it's gory, and useless, and—" Open folder. Block. "Fucking sadistic, FRI. I get why they don't want me to see it." Override. File loading. "But I have to. I have to."

Peter can't explain it, not to himself, and certainly not to an AI. But the videos draw him like nothing has before.

Sure, maybe it's the guilt. Mr. Stark kidnapped in the middle of a mission they went on together, that familiar nagging grief of failing to protect someone he cares about. And maybe it's the hope that the footage will reveal any kind of information as to who these bastards are, where they're holding Mr. Stark, or what they even want from him.