Alone

Ring Around the Rosy

Peter always had very telling emotions, especially to someone like Tony who could read them all like the back of his hand. From his happy rambling with his lit up brown eyes like everything in the world was his. To his shy sadness, keeping to himself and moving fingers. All the way to his shaky fear with nervous words and always subconsciously looking for protection.

Peter had never had a very normal life, but he tried his best to be a good person, taking after all his role models, getting good grades, being the friendly neighborhood spiderman, and keeping his friends close. He always believed to the best of his abilities that because of all the good he did in the world, he would get good karma in return.

But unfortunately, not everything works out exactly how you planned it would be.

He had been working with Mr. Stark on a project when he had suggested that they should go out to get some food. Mr. Stark thought this was a fantastic idea, and so they went out to eat at a nice fancy restaurant even though Peter insisted they could just go get sandwiches or something in Queens. On the way back, it had been dark and gloomy outside. Peter had felt his spidey senses ringing in the back of his head, but he knew he'd be safe with Mr. Stark. Nothing could happen to him when he was with Iron Man.

Before he could understand what was happening, he was being grabbed from behind. A burlap sack was tugged over his head, blocking his vision. He tried to fight, he really did, but a sharp pain exploded at the back of his head, and he lost consciousness before he could get away.

*

His head was throbbing as he slowly woke up. The first thing he noticed was the darkness. It was like he was trapped in endless darkness. He couldn't even make out his own hands in the black of the unfamiliar room. His wrists were shackled behind the back of the chair he was strapped to and his ankles were cuffed to the chair legs. A gag was loosely hanging around his neck, and his curling hair was limp and damp with sweat.

"M...Mister. Stark?" he calls out, voice hoarse and shaky.

Tony was behind a sheet of one way glass. He could see everything happening in the other room, but no matter how loud he yelled, Peter couldn't hear a word he was saying.

Tony hadn't been scared when he first awoke after being kidnapped. He's had his fair share of kidnappings, and he's still fine. They could do whatever they wanted to him. But the moment he saw Peter, scared and alone behind the one way glass, fear struck through the heart he didn't even know he still had.

"Mister Stark?" the kid calls out again, obviously terrified. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and he's breathing faster than his heart can beat. "Mr. Stark, I don't know if you're still sleeping or maybe you're not here, but... but, uh, I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Mr. Stark. I don't know how to fix this. I'm sorry."

Tony wanted to tell the kid that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't expect him to fix anything, but he couldn't say anything that would get through the glass and comfort the small boy.

"Ah, you're awake," a booming voice shatters the silence. A door opens on Peter's side of the glass and the boy tries his best to keep his hands from shaking.

"Who are you? Where's Mr. Stark? What are you going to do to me? What do you want?" Peter demands, balling his hands into fists behind his back.

The man is tall, taller than either superhero, but not very intimidating. There's not a whole lot of muscle underneath his muscle shirt, and his skinny jean-clad legs just look pathetic. There's swirling black ink down his arms and he has floppy dark hair. The part that actually intimidates the poor boy strapped to his chair, is his dark vicious eyes and the sharp blade he flips between his hands.