Chapter Text
“You’re an idiot,” Peter declared as he tugged on the cuff that was wrapped around his wrist and connected to the steel bar that had been installed in the car by someone who had prepared for this, the jagged spikes in the cuff dug into his skin and caused red to appear, “your plan is stupid.”
“Shut up,” came the monotonous reply.
“Do you really think walking into Stark Industries with a handcuffed kid is a good idea?” Peter asked, “because the second you get in there, someone will alert the emergency services, you won’t get far.”
“You’re wrong,” and even though Peter knew he wasn't, the complete lack of concern in the man’s voice was causing him mild anxiety.
“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” the man asked, not remaining silent for long, “we'll see who’s worrying about calling the cops when I’m threatening to blow your brains all over their pristine white floors.”
Peter swallowed, hard, “shows how prepared you are,” he said with false bravado, “the floors in the main atrium are black marble.”
“Are you trying to be funny right now?” the man asked, whirling around and shoving a gun in Peter’s face.
“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouted, “keep your eyes on the road!”
“Are you seriously trying to tell me what to do?” the man asked, although to his credit he did turn back to the road and place his second hand back on the steering wheel, even though he didn't release the gun.
“No, man, I’m just trying to tell you that your plan is deeply flawed,” Peter said with a light shrug as he resumed his efforts in tugging at the handcuffs.
It still hurt, the sharp points were still gouging into his flesh and causing rivulets of blood to run down his forearm, what kind of weird torture car did this dude have? Did he just drive around kidnapping teenagers? And why?
“Hey, man, this deeply flawed plan,” Peter said, speaking up once more, “why exactly has it come about? Like what do you feel you’ll gain from this?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Well, I mean, you are planning to threaten to blow my brains out,” Peter said with a shrug, “it would be nice to know why.”
“Shut up,” was all Peter got in response.
Naturally, he wasn't one to stop questioning things even when there was a gun brought into the situation, “but seriously, like don’t you have back-up?”
“You’re a fifteen-year-old brat, I don't need back-up,” the man said with a humourless snort.
I mean, credit where it was due, the man had successfully snuck up on him and knocked him out before his Spidey-Sense could tell him to watch out for danger, and he had been smart enough to use cuffs that Peter couldn't escape - although there had been no mentions of Spider-Man so Peter was calling that a coincidence rather than accurate preparation.
“I work with Mr. Stark and he’s part of The Avengers, how do you know I haven't met The Black Widow and been taught how to fight?” Peter questioned because he had and she had given him many lessons, the guy should at least be warned of that, it was only fair.
“Come on, Kid, we both know that all you do is fetch Tony Stark’s coffee and carry his files around for him,” the man said.
“Alright, then what use am I to you?” Peter wondered, “if Mr. Stark doesn't give me anything important to do, why bother kidnapping me?”
“Because he has a renowned guilt complex,” the man said, finally revealing something useful.
So this man knew enough about Tony Stark to be aware that he was honourable and emotional despite what the public and the media often portrayed him as, so what? Was he a potential past employee? He didn't know much about Peter’s role in the company so however he was getting his information, it had stopped. He had been cut off from his source.
“Is this about money?” Peter asked.
“Do you ever shut up?”
“It’s funny, Mr. Stark has actually asked that exact same question about thirty times,” Peter said, “it’s like you two are on the same wavelength, hey! Did you intern for Mr. Stark too?”
“Intern?” the man seemed to choke on the word as though he had been offended by the insinuation.
“Yeah, I mean it makes sense,” Peter said, “did you work for him before me? Is that why you’re mad?”
“Wha- listen, Kid, shut the fuck up, alright?” the man snapped, “you’re starting to prove to be more work than you’re worth.”
“So this is about money?” Peter asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Kinda, yeah,” Peter decided.
The man breaked harshly and Peter looked out the window, surprised to see they were stopped on the street outside Stark Industries.
“Have you considered what you’re going to do if Mr. Stark isn't actually here?” Peter asked, “because that seems like it would probably be an issue.”
He didn't say anything, he merely climbed out of the care and opened the passenger side, he undid the cuff that was attached to the metal pole and stuck it on Peter’s other wrist, the spikes digging in harshly as they were tightened more than necessary - yeah, Peter had likely hit a nerve… or five.
“I don't think you’re allowed to park there,” Peter mumbled as he was shoved forward, he instantly stumbled and tried to regain his balance so that he wasn't knocked face down onto the ground.
“What did I say about shutting up?” the man growled in his ear, man, he really needed to brush his teeth or take a breath mint.
“Uh, to do it?” Peter asked.
“Exactly.”
“Hey, guys,” one of the security guards called, “you need to enter through the metal detectors please, it’s for everyone’s safety.”
“They’re going to catch you,” Peter said.
“Did you ever consider that I don’t care?”
“What do you-” Peter broke off as he was shoved forwards through the metal detector and it instantly started to blare and lights flashed.
“Uh, guys, can I ask you both to step to the side please?” the security guard asked as he started to approach.
“Don't move!” the man holding Peter yelled, and he couldn't help but let his eyes close as he felt the cold metal of the gun’s barrel dig into his temple.
“Sir, drop the gun!”
“I want Tony Stark,” the man demanded, ignoring the instructions and Peter felt the gun tremble slightly although judging by his tone of voice it was with anger rather than nerves.
Maybe it had been a mistake to constantly nag him with questions in the car.
“You don't get anything until you release the child and drop your weapon.”
“I want Tony Stark otherwise I’m going to blow his intern’s brains out all over this damned floor!”
“Boss has been alerted that Mr. Parker is in danger,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s smooth lilting voice said, breaking through the tension that was coursing through Peter’s shoulders with ease.
“Who was that?” the man asked, waving the gun around quickly, briefly aiming it at any woman he could see before panicking and digging it back into the side of Peter’s head - he could only hope the man didn't freak out completely and accidentally pull the trigger, was the safety on or off?
“It’s Mr. Stark’s A.I.,” Peter said, “she monitors the entire building.”
“Turn her off!”
“I can’t,” Peter said, “no one can.”
“I said turn her the fuck off,” the man said, violently shaking Peter, “otherwise you won’t be the only one who dies here.”
“I can't.”
“I won’t ask again,” the man said, his voice taking on a dangerous tenor and Peter wondered if it was time for him to start saying his mental goodbyes to everyone he loved.
“Hey, fuckwit,” a familiar called as the man himself sauntered out of the elevator, his blue shades sitting on his face as though he were walking into a press meeting and not a dangerous situation, “my kid already told you, he can't turn her off, now why don't you let him go and before I kick your ass and I’ll give you ten seconds to explain why the hell you thought going after him was a good idea?”
“Stark.”
“I would return the sentiment but I’m afraid I don’t know who you are,” Mr. Stark said as he brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his suit and sauntered forward.
To the regular person, it would appear that the billionaire was unaffected by what he was seeing, however, Peter could see the routine clenching and unclenching of his jaw, and how his hands were occasionally curling into fists before the man seemingly reminded himself that he was trying to appear nonchalant.
“You know who I am,” the man said, digging the gun in harder, Peter was sure he was going to have an imprint in his skin once it was removed, “I know you know!”
“I can’t say I do,” Mr. Stark said with a shrug, he was close enough now that Peter’s enhanced sight allowed him to see through the tinted glasses - his eyes were creased in worry, “although I do know one thing - and that’s that there’s a red cable sticking out from under your shirt, you’re carrying a bomb, aren’t you?”
Mr. Stark was scared, the situation was not controlled, and that was enough to make Peter’s heart drop into his stomach. This was worse than he had thought and he was pretty sure he should definitely not have wound the man up by talking incessantly in the car.