Loose Threads

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Peter could tell something was bothering Mr. Stark. He was spending more and more time in his lab, which he usually did when he was trying to work through a problem he was stuck on. And Peter was usually content to just let Tony do his own thing when they were in the lab, but for the last couple weeks, he had been increasingly antsy and agitated.

Peter had frankly had enough. It was four o'clock on a Thursday, and Peter had come to the lab after school to work on his suit. Tony was pacing from one end of the lab to the other, fiddling with something in his hands. It was when he burnt himself and flung the thing away, swearing heartily, that Peter set his screwdriver down and sighed.

He picked up the thing Mr. Stark had dropped, which turned out to be part of the visor for his helmet. Peter set it gently on the nearest table and raised his eyebrows at Mr. Stark. The man sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Sorry, Peter. I'm just frustrated."

"About what?" Peter asked, leaning against the table behind him, Tony copying the action.

"Do you remember, about two weeks ago, that kid who was held hostage?"

"The one who's been presumed dead? Yeah. What about him?"

"That's just it. Something's just not jiving about the whole situation. The entire time, the kid never once looked scared."

"Well, you did say he looked like he was from the streets. That kind of thing is probably routine for him."

"I know, but that's not all. How could he have just... disappeared like that? There was no blood trail, no footprints, stains, anything. There's no possible way he could have gotten up on his own, not after a stab wound and a fall like that."

Peter thought for a moment. "Is it possible someone was waiting? Or maybe someone happened to be there and drove him to a hospital?"

Tony shook his head. "No. I thought the same thing, but when I reviewed the footage Friday recorded, there wasn't anyone in the alley when I landed. There wasn't enough time for someone to drive there, park, and drive away with him before Steve or I noticed. And I checked all the hospitals in the area, no one matching the kid's description or wounds have been admitted." Mr. Stark shook his head again, frustrated. "And why would they leave the knife? It just doesn't add up."

Peter hummed, fiddling with his web shooter. "Do you think... I mean, he couldn't be a part of Hydra or something, could he? Maybe he's a super-soldier, like Steve or Bucky."

"No, he couldn't be. All the super-soldiers ever created were over the age of twenty-five, and this kid was your age. Besides, all the other soldiers are dead, remember? The most likely scenario we have, the one the police are going with, is that he wasn't too injured in the fall, and managed to pull the knife out and stumble away somewhere to die."

Peter made a face. "Really? But wouldn't someone have seen him? And there would be a blood trail too."

Tony nodded. "I know! But it's the only semi-solid theory we have. I have Friday set to alert me if he shows up on any street cams or security footage, just in case. But I can't see how he could have survived."

Peter nodded. Something about the situation definitely wasn't adding up. "Wait," he said, turning to face Tony. "You can access the street cams?"

"Of course I can, I'm Tony Stark, kid."

"But, I thought the Accords–"

"Eh, no one really listens to those. And what the government doesn't know won't hurt them." Tony went back to his helmet visor, whistling along to the ACDC blasting through the lab speakers.