The World Is Wide (But I Feel So Small)

Tony

NEW 2020 EDIT: THIS IS NOT STARKER.

They only sit there for a few minutes, but it seems to stretch for hours as Peter trembles in his arms.

Tony doesn't move, his hands just clutching his child tighter against him when the boy flinches, the Agent taking pictures of the blood on the floor a few feet away backing up slowly at the Billionaire's heated glare. Pressing his lips softly against Peter's temple, the genius listens to the almost silent whispers that are spoken against his chest, his baby's breath hot against the now damp fabric that was his shirt.

"Dad. . . Please please. . . Daddy, please it hurts, please. . ."

Tony just runs his fingers through Peter's hair, his son leaning into the touch with a soft whine. Looking around quickly, the genius glares at an Agent, his brown eyes narrowing in distrust as the man keeps his distance.

Reaching out with his free hand, the elder Stark snaps his fingers sharply, the sound popping and attracting the attention of the man a few feet away. Setting down his camera, the Agent walks over to both father and son, the bulb overhead causing his black hair to illuminate slightly in the limited light. His name tag, reading Damian, swings in time with his steps.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Stark?" He asks softly, the gun on his belt jingling as he leans down.

"Can we—" Pausing to adjust Peter in his arms, Tony ignores the way his legs are starting to fall asleep. "—Can we please get my son to a Hospital or back to the Tower so that he can be looked over?"

Eyeing the cell around them, the young man nervously shuffles from foot to foot as Tony just continues to glare up at him, his posture straightening and a snarl curling his lips when Damian takes a step closer.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have to make sure we keep the crime scene as authentic as possible and not disturb anything—" The Agent says, his green eyes widening in alarm and fear when the inventor cuts him off.

"I'm sorry, I don't think you heard me correctly, so let me say it one more time."

Leaning forward slightly, Tony deepens his voice to an almost inaudible level, his dark eyes shinning like burning coals in the half light.

"You are going to get my child out of this shit hole and getting medical attention in the next 30 seconds, or I will personally have Mr. Iron Guy over there blast a hole though everything that moves."

Tilting his chin at the Iron Man suit still located a few feet away, Tony watches with a satisfied gaze as Damian pales significantly at the threat. Harshly clearing his throat, the young Agent strides briskly over to a tall blond woman in the corner, his face pinched in worry and stress. Tapping the imposing woman on the shoulder, Damian makes exaggerated motions with his hands, gesturing back at both Starks as he speaks. The female Agent doesn't react outwardly, the only clear sign of her dissatisfaction being the hardening of her gray eyes.

Leaving the two S.H.I.E.L.D Agents to chat for a few moments, Tony turns his attention to his son once again and blinks back the stinging of his eyes when he looks down.

Peter's own eyes are closed, his face swollen and tinged black and blue, his mouth screwed up in a cross between a pout and a scowl. His breath is wheezing and whistling against Tony's chest as the boy inhales and exhales, the feeling something Tony treasures much more then he ever thought possible.

Kissing his child's temple, the genius frowns when his baby's forehead is hot to the touch, small beads of sweat accumulating on his brow and settling in the short strands of hair near his neck. Feeling his frustration rise again, the father smooths down the matted mane of brown locks as he shifts his eyes over to the now approaching Agent, his free arm curling tighter over his shivering boy.