#spiderman is all the worst parts of him brought to the surface

[fireworkss-exe]

no bc I actually love that my spiderman is an awful person and a coward who rats traitors out to the spider society authorities. he's a horrible person I love him

[superherotiger]

Legacy of Ashes (Villain Irondad AU)

Villainous July prompts: First Encounter + “Pathetic.”

@multiverse-irondad-july

Hello everybody!

 I know it's been forever since I last added to this AU, but I'm really excited to be sharing this with you all today as it's the first chronological part of my Villain Irondad AU! If you'd like to read the other two, you can find the masterlist for the series here! I can't wait to go on this journey of the Merchant of Death and Spiderman with you all as Villainous July continues, and fingers crossed I'll be able to get more prompts out soon hah! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day! -Superherotiger

Ao3 Link

~~~

The clang of metal rung out across the cave -of the prison- and echoed back from the walls in a chilling, empty symphony.

Look...

The man trapped inside such cursed walls brought his hammer down in another precise swing, ignoring the ache of his muscles in favour of bending the metal before him to his will.

What you just saw, that is your legacy Stark.

Dismantled missiles and guns were scattered across every surface with a familiar bold title painted across their sides, given to their creator from the hands of thieves and terrorists.

Your life’s work, in the hands of those murderers.

The mechanic kept his eyes fixed to the anvil below and poured every ounce of hatred into his tools, honing his focus into some sharp and dangerous, even if his thoughts kept drifting back to the smears of sickly crimson that had stained into the floor…

Is that how you want to go out?

Another mighty swing, another resounding clang. Again and again and again, until finally- his work was complete.

Is this the last act- of defiance, of the great Tony Stark?!

The man moved the newly reformed metal into a bucket of water and watched the steam rise up with a satisfying hiss, wishing he felt something- anything that wasn’t pure fury.

Or are you going to do something about it?

Dragging his creation out of the water, the man gripped onto the cooled metal and stared into a set of hollowed, glaring eyes, burning with flames from the forge that raged behind it. There should have been a sense of pride, or at the very least relief. But instead all he felt was an inferno. A ferocious, hungry wildfire that wanted to burn everything to ashes, starting with the ones that had dragged him into this nightmare to begin with. The ones that had stolen his creations and tainted them beyond repair.

The ones that had taken innocent lives without care, without remorse…

Somebody had to right the injustices of their corrupted world, and settling his newest creation -a mask of hardened metal- over his face, Tony Stark knew deep down that he was the only one strong enough to do it…

~~~

The alleyways of Queens were shrouded in darkness as the hour passed one in the morning, shadows too thick to see through being the perfect dwelling for the worst kinds of humanity. The kinds that destroyed, that murdered, that stole what didn’t belong to them. The kinds that no one wanted to see...

But from his position kneeling on a nearby rooftop, the Merchant had a perfect view of the two naïve criminals that were meeting down below, a case with an awfully familiar logo imprinted on its side getting passed between their hands.

Selling illegal weapons was dangerous.

Selling forbidden Stark Industries weapons was a death sentence.

One these two men were about to have the misfortune of meeting, Tony thought with a shimmer of pride.

It hadn’t taken long for word to spread amongst the underworld when the fresh-out-of-captivity billionaire took on his new mantle in a suit of black and gold all those years ago, destroying any and all Stark weapons and killing anyone who tried to get in the way. The Merchant of Death, they called him. Tony thought it had a rather nice ring to it personally. The public however did not, and they called for his arrest on multiple occasions, especially during that first year of his tirades. The thing about a suit of armour though was that an identity was hard to prove when you couldn’t see their face, or collect DNA, or even get a testimony when everyone who crossed paths with them ended up dead.

So with no proof to prove otherwise, the world was forced to let Tony continue his destruction in the shadows, giving him the benefit of his powerful reputation without any of the consequences. A win on both fronts.

And as he dropped down to the alley below with a shattering of cement, he couldn’t deny the pleasure it gave him to watch not only terror, but dreaded realisation fill his target’s eyes as they understood what was about to happen. The destiny they had set for themselves by showing up tonight with that case of weapons in hand. They knew the risks- they knew the consequences; the Merchant had made his presence known for almost six years now, after all.

What happened next was simply justice coming to pass…

By the time he reached down to pick up the discarded case of weapons, his gauntlets were stained crimson and the surrounding buildings had become eerily silent, as if afraid to become his next target. Good. That might save the next foolish arms dealer from daring to touch a Stark creation. The same couldn’t be said for his latest victims though, whose lifeless bodies were hidden by the shadows of the alley as Tony left with his haul of stolen weaponry.

It frustrated him that after all these years he still hadn’t been able to destroy the last remnants of his former legacy, and he knew that there were most likely many more Stark weapons out there that had yet to surface on Tony’s radar. Case in point, the deal that had -almost- transpired tonight, which only proved to Tony how vital his work truly was, even now.

So long as Stark weapons remained in the world, the Merchant of Death would too.

Stepping out into the middle of the abandoned street, Tony was about to blast off back to the tower when a sudden jerk against his arm had him startling back into action. He dropped the case and twisted around to shoot at whoever had dared to oppose him, only to find the street as barren as he had entered it. Instead, he noticed a silky, resistant webbing attached from his forearm to the cement below, tugging on it experimentally and blinking in surprise to find it withstanding the standard strength of his suit.

A short and sharp whistle from behind had Tony turning just in time to see that same chemical thread latch onto the corner of the case before it went flying through the air, landing right in the hands of a figure perched precariously on a nearby wall. They peered at the case with a set of ridiculously goggled eyes to match their equally ridiculous costume; a hideous combination of tights and hoodie that would be much better suited for a pre-school play than the shady streets of Queens. The sight of the bright red and blue was just… distracting, more than anything else, but what truly caught Tony’s attention was the way the figure sat against the two-story wall without any visible support. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to sit on. They were just… stuck there.

His moment of surprise though gave this mysterious figure a chance to glance up and say in an awfully young voice “Sorry to tell you, but the evil, cyborg fair was last week! No late applications allowed I’m afraid.”

Oh god, his humour is as awful as his clothing, Tony cringed.

But, tearing his arm free of the webbing, the man observed the frayed threads along his gauntlet and called “The tensile strength of this formula is off the charts. I’ll admit, I’m impressed.” Then, flexing his hands into fists so that the repulsors glowed a fierce red against his midnight suit, Tony spat out coldly “If only I could say the same about you.”

The masked figure pressed his free hand against his chest -seriously, how was he sticking up there?!- and said mockingly “Ouch, I’m wounded. Really- I, I don’t know if I’m ever going to recover from this Mr Criminal.”

“A comedian too huh?” Tony scoffed. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing when I blast a hole through your sternum.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid you’ll have to get in line for that one. I’ve got maybe- I don’t know, a dozen or so others waiting for their chance to maim Spiderman behind bars right now,” the figure- the vigilante, Tony realised- replied jokingly.

Spiderman. He hadn’t heard of that one yet. He’d faced super soldiers, assassins, spies- usually all SHIELD agents, granted, but never had he faced a solo hero like this before. At least not one that had approached him with such casual banter, with such a lack of fear. It showed Tony that this poor soul was even more naïve than he first assumed if he didn’t even know the reputation behind the Merchant of Death.

Well… he would find out quickly enough.

“So, Spiderboy did you say?” Tony started out, matching the vigilante’s casual tone as he slowly lifted himself into the air with his boosters. And while it made the hero tense and watch him with narrowed eyes, he remained seated against the wall, exposed as ever.

Good. Let’s make this nice and easy.

“Spiderman actually,” the hero corrected.

“With that voice pipsqueak? Absolutely not.”

That made the hero sputter in denial, dropping his voice almost comically as he retorted, “You’re mistaken criminal.”

“Change your voice all you want bug, it still doesn’t fix those pyjamas of yours,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes behind the mask.

“I’m an arachnid, thank you very much,” the vigilante corrected sharply and tilted his head away in faux disgust. “And I’ll have you know, this suit is made of the finest cotton that ten bucks can-“

The boy -despite not even looking in the Merchant’s direction- jumped cleanly out of the way of the repulsor beam that was sent directly where his head had been a split second beforehand, swinging up onto a nearby rooftop only to offer an infuriating flourish. “And here I thought you were genuinely interested in my suit design,” the Spider tusked, running along the edge of the railing with the case in hand as Tony spun around to blast after him. “Guess I can’t expect good taste from the guy who wears metal underwear on the daily though, am I right?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Tony growled as he cut through the air like a bullet, only to miss the vigilante by a hair as he propelled himself in the opposite direction with his intuitive webs.

“Only if you use the magic word,” the Spider mocked as he stuck onto a nearby building.

The nerve of this child…

“Well,” Tony said as a smirk crawled onto his lips. “I guess I’ll just have to shut you up permanently then.”

The Spider’s lenses practically bulged out of their goggles as the Merchant came speeding towards him without a moments warning, using those lightning-fast reflexes to leap out of the way of his gauntlets, but not fast enough to escape the burst of flares that Tony sent out in every direction. The explosion of light that engulfed their vision did little to Tony behind his metal mask, but had the Spider crying out like a kicked puppy as he missed his next web and plummeted to the ground.

And for the briefest moment, Tony hesitated.

Because there, in that scream- in that panicked flailing of limbs, Tony saw not an enemy, but an innocent soul. A naïve and annoying soul, yes- but an innocent one no less. A mere child playing superhero…

But then his eyes caught sight of the case still clutched stubbornly to the Spider’s chest, and that flicker of doubt was crushed within a heartbeat. At the end of the day he still had a mission to complete. It was the very same one he’d held since he burnt the Ten Rings down to ashes in Afghanistan, and no wide eyed, loud mouthed vigilante was going to get in his way.

So watching the Spider hit the asphalt with a resounding crack, the Merchant dropped down to join the fallen hero and stood over him with a threatening whir of his repulsors. “Pathetic,” he scoffed. “Had enough yet?”

The vigilante groaned and squinted up at his masked enemy through a pair of shattered lenses. “Do… doin�� great,” he coughed out through a smile. “Couldn’t you t-tell?”

“You keep telling yourself that Bug.”

“Not’a bug.”

“Really? You’re as annoying as one.”

Huffing in defiance, the vigilante shifted amongst the cracked tarmac and curled himself protectively around the case in his arms. He probably didn’t even know what it contained, just knew it mustn’t be good if it were in the hands of a mysterious, armour wielding individual like himself.

If only this poor fool knew that he was trying to help the world instead of destroy it…

“Just… gimme five minutes an’ we can go f’r round two,” the vigilante murmured out.

Despite his better judgement, Tony couldn’t help but smile. This kid was persistent, he’d give him that, and his ability to stay upbeat as he faced certain doom was admirable in itself. Gifted, intelligent, and fitted with a heart of gold. Tony had to respect that, even if he had interrupted his mission tonight. Who knows, maybe in another life, they would have gotten along quite well…

But this was the life they had been given: hero and villain.

Enemies, and nothing else.

So reaching down to drag the case -and subsequently the boy that was attached to it- into the air, the Merchant grasped onto the back of the Spider’s neck with his free hand and startled the vigilante enough to let go of his former prize. And while the boy began to punch and kick with a sudden flood of adrenaline, the Merchant simply twisted his head to the side and hissed “Stay down if you want to live this time Bug.”

And before the Spider even had a chance to think about snarking back, the Merchant lifted him up and threw him right through the window of a nearby café, showering the floor with shards of glass and demolishing the poor coffee machine as the onesie clad hero crashed right into it with a bang. What a waste of a good coffee machine, Tony thought glumly to himself as he inspected the damage through his HUD. There was no retort on the boy’s tongue this time as he collapsed onto the cold, tiled floor, and his body remained eerily still even as Tony peered at him through the destroyed display. The sight of his opponent defeated should have brought the Merchant some sense of satisfaction, maybe even pride, but-… this time he just felt empty.

“Jarvis,” Tony called to his AI.

“Yes sir?”

“Give me vitals.”

The drum of his own heartbeat became unusually prominent as he watched Jarvis run multiple scans across his vision, and despite it only taking a few moments in reality, each second seem to drag into the other like an endless void of time.

“Heartbeat and breathing detected,” Jarvis reported diligently. “No life-threatening injuries present.”

Nodding slowly, Tony tried not to dwell on the tension that had unravelled from his chest at Jarvis’s report and instead turned his focus back to the mission at hand. “We’re done here then,” he said sternly. “Let’s head out.”

“Would you like to terminate the witness before leaving sir?”

Hesitating, Tony glanced back through the shattered window and the carnage that laid within. At the fallen hero who remained unconscious amidst the destruction. A mere child… nothing more, nothing less.

“No,” Tony eventually replied, turning his back to the window and the thoughts he wasn’t sure how to unravel. “If he manages to crawl his way back to his nest tonight, then he’s earnt his chance to live.”

“And if he returns sir?”

Feeling the edge of a smile curling at his lips, Tony thought back to the way the Spider had bantered with him, without fear or disdain or- honestly, any regard for his own life. He had an energy that no other scummy criminal he faced could match, and tech that no engineer he knew had ever developed. Everything about the Spider intrigued Tony to no end; like a puzzle he had yet to figure out.

And while he had much bigger priorities at hand, a small shred of Tony hoped the Spider would return to allow him a chance to solve it.

“Guess we’ll find out when that day comes…”

~~~

Tag list:

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[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland-The Impossible (1)

Plot: Your relationship with Tom is on edge. Work, paparazzi and not seeing each other for months is making you tear apart from each other. Thankfully, he’s an amazing boyfriend and propose you what you thought it would be the perfect holidays; Thailandia. The hot sun, the beach, a cute hut and privacy to mend your relationship. Neither of you thought you would be witnesses of one of the greatest natural dissasters of history

Warnings: right now, none. This part only has fluff, but there will be!

The sight in front of you was… indescribable. Tall and green trees stood proud in the middle of that village, where children ran from one side to another laughing and pushing each other. All type of people were there; from elders who were talking between themselves to pregnant women, from natives to tourists like you and Tom.

Birds sang as you looked up to the new country that would be your home for two weeks, a happy smile on your face. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the sun kissing your skin, so different from the cloudy weather back in London.

A feather touch in your hand made you open them again, and you saw Tom beside you brushing his fingers with you. You let out a happy giggle and showed him a full-teeth smile.

“I take that you’re happy” he teased, brown eyes warming your whole body. There was something about him that had you always smiling, even in your worst times. 

“You can’t even imagine how much” you sighed, pecking his cheek quickly. “Thank you so much for this, Tommy, I-“

“Hey, stop with the thanks, alright?” he cut you off. “I’ve already told you. We both needed a vacation.”

For the last month, your relationship with Tom, the man you thought you were going to marry, had been hard. He was away filming and you were busy with your own job, barely seeing each other once a month. And you had noticed that you didn’t kiss good night, made time for each other or something as simple as eat together. Instead of boiling it up until you exploded, you decided to talk with Tom about it. He promised to make it better, and the next day you found two tickets to Thailand; a two weeks holidays much needed just for the two of you.

No castmates, no family, no friends. Just you, Tom and the beach.

“Mrs and Mr Holland?”

You turned to see a short man with glasses looking at you with a kind smile, dressing the yellow overall typical of the hotel’s staff you had seen on the internet. Tom coughed to cover up a laugh, knowing how you hated to have your surname changed. If you did ever get married, he knew there wouldn’t be any legal way of making you take his.

“Actually, it’s-“

“Yep, that us” Tom said, still smiling. He took your hand in his and gave you a soft squeeze.

The man told you he was in charge of showing you around the village and your way to the hotel. As you walked, he started talking about the traditions. How, the night before Christmas, they threw a big flighting lights and let them disappear in the sky; a way of getting rid of everything bad that had happened that year. Tom moved his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

He was the kind of man who didn’t have to use cologne to smell good. Even when he came from training or playing with his brothers, you always admired how well he smelled. Your arm made its way around his waist, and you pinched his stomach softly. It made him squeal away, emitting a strange noise that had the man looking at him with wide eyes.

After assuring him that he hadn’t been ‘punctured’ with anything, the man explained you the different risks of the plants and animals of that country. They were more dangerous, and the government couldn’t assure the proper treatment if you got infected by a venomous plant; although he assured you they would do everything they could.

“I can’t wait to see the beach” you whispered to Tom, a few feet away from the man. He looked ahead and then lowered his head to your ear.

“And I can’t wait to see you in the black bikini I saw you packing” he whispered, and you smacked his chest, chuckling. “What? Or without it, I can’t decide what is better.”

“You’re a perv” you teased, knowing that you would probably end up testing every surface on your hotel room. “We are here to enjoy the beach, the people and the customs. Not to satisfy your endless sexual drive”

“That hurt, love” he faked indignation. “Even more when I know that your ‘sexual drive’ is as big as mine.”

“You’re a weirdo, Holland”

“That’s why you love me, Y/N”

He tilted his head to kiss you, and you closed your eyes for a second. Enjoying the soft breeze that moved your hair, the sound of the leaves moving and the sun shining above you. You teared apart when the man cleared his throat, having stopped a few steps ahead. And you let your mouth fall open.

If you thought that the village and the nature were amazing, you were wrong; the hotel was the most amazing thing you had ever seen. Cute huts were distributed in an uncoordinated pattern around a beach bar and a pool. From where you were standing, you could see the blue and calm sea where some kids were playing with their families, and you could hear the waves hitting the shore. Tom said something to the guide and the man said his goodbyes, wishing you a good time and leaving. Your boyfriend looked down at your stunned face and laughed softly.

“I wish I had brought my phone” he complained, his eyes bright. “I could have you as my lockscreen for the rest of my life.”

“This-This is amazing, Tom” you let out an incredulous laugh. “How did you find this place?”

“Chris told me about it. Elsa and him like to spend their holidays here, with the kids and family” he explained. “It’s a good chance to, uh, you know, get away from the media. And press. To, um…”

“Make things right” you helped him, not wanting to say that the trip was a way of mending your relationship. Because you were sure it wasn’t broken yet. “I can’t wait to see our room.”

“House, actually” he smirked. “Each house is for one family, or tourist that come here.”

“Oh, couldn’t you have booked two then?” you joked, pouting. “I don’t want to be next to your hot ass all the time.”

“Such a shame that it only has a bed, Mrs Holland”

“Shut up”

Tom started walking to your hut, where your suitcases would be waiting for you, giving you a perfect view of his ass. You whistled at him and he blew you a joking kiss, shaking it for you. Running until catching up with him, you linked arms and pressed your cheek on his shoulder.

What a holidays

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two first days passed too quickly for your liking. After the long flight, all Tom and you wanted to do was relax, so you spent the whole morning in the beach. The water was crystalline, and you could see the little fish that swam there. The rest of the day had been uneventful; making love, naps, making love again, going to the beach, almost having public sex, and having dinner. And, at night, making love. For the second day, you decided to go the village; met some people, learn about them and tried different foods, although Tom wasn’t a big fan of the spicy one.

It had been perfect, but your favourite moment without a doubt was the Christmas night. To avoid being distracted by phones, you and Tom had agreed of only bringing one, old enough to not have social media; only to call families and for emergencies. You had called your families and were in the beach, lighting up your flying candle, when you looked up.

Tom’s face was slightly tanned because of the sun, small freckles in both of his cheeks. He had his jaw clenched, focusing of not burning the whole thing down. In his brown eyes the small flame was reflected, which only made his face more perfect.

You smiled when your eyes landed on the necklace that one of children had made for him. Colourful shells with two feathers decorated it, and Tom had refused to take it off. Thinking about him with his own children made your heart swell with love.

“Well?” he asked, and you noticed he was looking at you, smirking. “Have you drooled enough or do I have to do anything by myself?”

“I thought Spiderman could light a candle without any help” you laughed, getting up from the sand.

“And miss a chance to do this?” Tom was by your side and pushed you closer to him, your arms locking behind his neck. “Not even Spiderman can resist that, love.”

You laughed and pressed your lips against him, Tom smiling in between. Laughs and happy screams surrounded you and, as you kissed the love your life, sand covering your bare feet, you found yourself happy again.

When you teared apart, Tom started leaving kisses all over your face. On your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin. You tried to push him away between friendly kicks, what only made him try harder.

“Tom! The light!” you finally pushed him off you, and he was back at trying to light the lamp, a small scoff on his face.

Walking in front of him, you took the stick with the flame and lowered it down, Tom watching you with his head on your shoulder. A yellow light surrounded you, creating a warm and comfortable moment. It remined you to those nights where you would stay over the Holland’s house, in front of the fire and playing board games with the family. The endless discussions between Paddy and Harry, Sam trying to cheat and Nikki not understanding why she was losing. It was your first Christmas away from home, and you missed them the most.

But then, you looked back and found yourself trapped in Tom’s arms, his nose brushing your cheek and eye lashes creating shadows on his cheeks.

You had met him five years ago, when he had thrown a coffee at you. It wasn’t like a romantic movie; it was hot coffee and your skin was awfully sensitive, so you got a serious burn on the middle on your chest. You had thrown every insult you knew at him on the way to the hospital, where he had offered to take you. And, two hours of waiting later and thirty minutes of treatment, you found the same boy who had thrown you the coffee with a guilty, nearly teary, look on his face and a new cup on his hand.

Best friends to lovers, that was your story. You giggled while remembering it.

“I love you” you blurted out, hugging him tight and pressing your ear against his chest, listening how it sped up at your words. It was not the first time you told him, but Tom’s reaction was always the same. “So much, Tom. I love you a lot, and I want to be always by your side.”

“Wow, those are major words” he joked. “Are you sure? Even with my huge sexual drive?”

“With everything you have” you rolled your eyes, and sneaked your hands until they touched his butt. “Especially this awesome ass you have, Mr Holland.”

“I’m glad to know I’m just a fucktoy for you?” Tom smacked your head softly. “Weirdo”

“Slut”

“Brat”

“Asshole”

“Gorgeous” he chuckled, knowing that neither of you meant those words.

“Love you Tommy” you closed your eyes, the warmth of the many lights hitting your face and making you go sleepy. “Thank you for this.”

“Love you more, Y/N. You deserve this and more”

In Tom’s eyes, you deserved everything. You had put up with his work since nearly the beginning, didn’t mind his family sticking around always and loved every imperfection he hated. That night, you watched the lights disappear in the sky as you hug each other, whispering sweet words or stupid compliments to each other, as if you were drunk of love.

You convinced Tom to carry you to your room, giving you a piggy back ride, and you almost fell asleep on his shoulder. When he laid you down, he pecked your lips and made its way down your neck, already planning in which way he could surprise you the next day. Because for him, you deserved everything.

Everything expect what was to come.

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@cutiepiemimi13

@van-horn-dashner

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[elisaphoenix13]

Saving The Parents

Tony woke with a pounding head and blurred vision, and absolutely no idea where he was. When his vision cleared though, his watch and sunglasses were missing and he found himself on some unforgiving concrete flooring.  Every bone and muscle in his body was protesting having to lay on a hard surface that he probably hadn't even been on for more than ten minutes.

A quick look around his concrete prison revealed that he was alone and that was what made his heart clench. He was with Stephen when (Tony assumed) they were drugged and grabbed on their way to a charity gala, and his husband was nowhere to be seen. It was unlikely that they only took the engineer. Even dumbass kidnappers would know to use the sorcerer against him. It wasn't exactly a secret that they were married. Tony just really hoped that Peter was still safe at home.

Shit, he fell deep into the parenting hole. Here he was, being held hostage for some asinine reason, and he was worrying about Peter. That wasn't bad but he felt that unless he had evidence that the teen was in danger, he should be worrying more about himself and Stephen. Definitely Stephen. He didn't care about himself right now. He needed to know where the sorcerer was and if he was okay.

He found out about ten minutes later that the doctor was not okay. The door to his windowless room slammed open and Stephen was thrown in where he fell to the ground in a bloody heap. The door was closed before Tony could get a look at their captors, so he turned his focus back onto his bleeding husband.

"Fuck."

That single word was an enormous understatement for their situation. When Tony managed to crawl over to the motionless sorcerer, he felt bile rise in his throat when he saw the man's injuries. Stephen was undoubtedly tortured for either information he didn't have or even just because he was married to the billionaire, and that thought made Tony swallow back his body's second attempt to vomit.

He tears open the doctor's bloodied shirt to find the worst of the injuries and he shrugs off his blazer to apply pressure to worst of what looked to be stab wounds. It definitely wasn't the only way Stephen was tortured. There were burn marks everywhere he could see skin, his hair was wet, and there were lash marks--

"Oh baby...I'm so sorry, and it's going to suck, but I really need you to wake up." Tony says as he lightly slaps Stephen's cheek. Thankfully, the sorcerer does wake up but the engineer's heart breaks when he comes to with a whimper. "I know. I know. I need you to focus your magic on your wounds and heal yourself. That's a thing right?"

"Don't..." Stephen mumbles incoherently. "...sleep..."

"No. No! No sleeping! You will not wake up! You're bleeding too much!" Tony panics until Stephen weakly reaches up and grabs his bicep.

"Tony. Don't let me sleep." He chokes out. "Not...not until I...heal myself."

Tony nods and watches carefully over the next (what felt like) hour as the worst of Stephen's wounds close, only having to lightly smack the sorcerer back to attention twice. When Stephen finally finished, and vocalized the fact, Tony gently pulls him toward the far wall and sits against it, letting Stephen lay his head in his lap. The sorcerer fell asleep in seconds.

In the midst of Tony's panic, he didn't fail to notice that Stephen was tech free as well. He really wanted to know if the sorcerer knew what was going on, but he didn't have the heart to ask him anything when he was in so much pain. Something Tony would fight to never let happen again. If their captors came back thinking they could just take Stephen again, they had another thing coming.

Tony sat there for a long time. He couldn't say how long, since there were no windows to show if it was night or day, hell, he didn't even know if it was still the same day they were taken. He may very well have been out for twenty-four hours and their captors got sick of waiting and took Stephen while he was unconscious. He was getting tired again but he wouldn't sleep. Not when Stephen was vulnerable.

It was hard anyway because the concrete floor and wall were hurting his ass and digging into his back. There would be no sleep for him

_______________

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Peter wanted to yell at his spider senses because he knew something was wrong. Tony and Stephen never came home from the party or whatever it was they went to and for once, Peter wished his parents had shoved him into a three piece suit and made him go with them. They hadn't called or texted with a change of plans, something they always did, so the teen's worry was through the roof. It actually took him a good hour to even think about telling the team and tracking his parents after he woke up that morning and found their bed empty. He asked FRIDAY if they had gone somewhere, but the AI stated they never came home.

So now the team was sitting silently in the living room while both FRIDAY and Victor tracked their corresponding humans, and Peter alternated between pacing and sitting to bite his thumb. The biting was quickly stopped by Bucky who would pull his hand away whenever Peter's fingers inched toward the teen's mouth and the former sergeant ignored the glares directed at him. So the vigilante stuck to pacing until FRIDAY finally spoke up.

"I managed to track Boss and the doctor approximately ten miles from town but then something interfered with the equipment."

"Look for any bunkers or warehouses near where you lost the signal." Rhodey orders.

"Sending satellite images to the tablet now." FRIDAY responds.

Rhodey picks up Tony's tablet from the coffee table before Peter can, and pulls up a hologram of the pictures. "These are all legitimate bases for SHIELD and...wait..." The colonel zooms in on a group of trees to show a well hidden part of a building. "FRIDAY...is that building still abandoned?"

"Yes Colonel. No one has bought it yet."

"That's our best bet. We'll take the Quinjet."

"Alright. Everybody suit up. Bruce stay here in case they might need medical attention." Steve orders and Bruce nods before leaving to stand-by in med-bay.

Rhodey turns to Peter when the teen's suit covers him. "Peter--"

"You can't leave me behind!" Peter blurts.

"I know kid. I just want you to promise that if I tell you to leave...then you leave. Alright? I'm responsible for you right now." Rhodey says calmly.

"Yeah...okay. I promise. I swear." The teen agrees and the colonel claps him on the shoulder.

"Good. Let's go get our idiots."

_________________

Their captors really were stupid enough to try to take Stephen away again, and Tony lost it. The moment the sorcerer was forcibly pulled from him, the engineer jumped to his feet and punched the man who held the sorcerer. He barely had enough time to stop his husband's imminent fall to the harsh ground and set him against the wall before the other men were swarming him and he was fighting again. When (not if, he told himself) they got out of here, Tony was going to thank Happy and Rhodey for forcing him to train with them (and eventually Clint and Natasha) so he didn't rely on his Iron Man armor.

Unfortunately his training only went so far when he was surrounded by four mini-hulks that were barely fazed when he hit them. Tony was pretty sure he was hurting himself more than them and the only reason the first guy dropped Stephen was probably because he was surprised Tony fought back. It was all short-lived when one of the men yanked Tony into a very tight chokehold and another grabbed the half-conscious sorcerer off the floor and held a knife up to him.

"Are you kidding me?!" Tony shouts. "Haven't you done enough to him? What is this about anyway? Money? Information?"

"Revenge." The billionaire's captor growls into his ear before pulling out a gun and shooting Stephen.

Tony yells out in alarm when blue eyes start to dull when the man holding the sorcerer throws him to the ground, and he freezes back up when the gun is turned on him.

"Revenge for those your weapons have killed or maimed." His captor continues. "So we will make you watch us slowly kill those you care about. Now that your husband is at death's door, we'll be going after your kid next."

The engineer fights to get out of the man's grasp. "Let me go!"

"No, Stark. You're going to stand here an watch him die."

Tony's anxiety went through the roof. One of his worst nightmares was coming true and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't call for his suit, or the team since he didn't have any of his tech, he wasn't strong enough to fight off the other men, and he had never felt so helpless in his life. Not even in Afghanistan. At least there he had a chance.

The screeching of metal breaks Tony out if his trance and the door to the room flies open to reveal a very angry Spiderman. White lenses look at Tony briefly and then turn to the dying sorcerer on the ground...and instantly turn black with red in the center. Instant kill mode. Peter was going to go against his personal standards for his own revenge. Tony couldn't let that happen.

"No! Humans! They're humans! You kill them then you're just lowering yourself to their level!"

Tony had never been so relieved to see white lenses come back. He was even more relieved when the vigilante turned his attention on the men in the room after webbing the gun out of the hand of Tony's captor, and knocked them all out. Peter's mask falls from his face, and both he and Tony rush to Stephen's side where Peter covers the sorcerer's gunshot wound with a compression web. Stephen was breathing heavily and when he coughed, some blood speckled the floor.

"E-Exit...wound..." Stephen gasps out.

Tony turns his husband onto his side as carefully as possible and almost sobs when he doesn't find one. Stephen couldn't heal himself if the bullet was still inside him.

The engineer turns him back to his regular position and gently cups his face. "We'll get you out of here. So you better stay awake."

Peter nods and holds back the threatening tears. "The others are here. We brought the Quinjet. I told them where we are so they're on their way."

"Peter..." Stephen whispers as he reaches up and pulls the boy's head down to his chest.

"You'll be okay Mum...please be okay..." Peter cries into the doctor's chest until Stephen's grip loosens and he looks up with red eyes to find blue eyes closing. "No!"

"Stephen! Stay awake!" Tony yells frantically.

The rest of the team arrive just as Stephen's hand falls to the ground and his eyes close, and Bucky rushes forward to pull the distressed teen away from the sorcerer. While he and Rhodey fight to keep Tony and Peter in their arms, Wanda and Steve move the unresponsive doctor out of the room and to the Quinjet. When Stephen was out of sight, the teen cried out his emotional pain that even Bucky got misty-eyed as he continued to hold the struggling boy back.

"He can't die! HE CAN'T DIE!"

_______________________

Tony and Rhodey exit the master bedroom and the billionaire shudders as he rubs his hand over his mouth, and his best friend leads him into the living room where the rest of the team was waiting. Stephen was rushed to the med-bay where Bruce and a few other doctors were waiting, and since Peter was still frantic, Rhodey had to sedate him. It was the only way to calm the boy down. He would have made himself sick if they let him wait for news about the sorcerer. Tony was barely hanging on as it was.

"Here." Natasha says as she hand over his and Stephen's missing tech. "We found them in one of the rooms. They had something built to scramble their signal."

Tony ignores his paranoia about being handed things and takes them. "Thanks Romanov." He mutters.

"He'll be okay." She says.

The engineer blinks back tears. "Will he? I watched him get shot! Bleed out! I watched my kid cry from fear of losing another parent and there was nothing I could do!" He shouts.

"Tones...dont make me put you down too."

Tony scoffs and slumps into an armchair. They all spent the next few hours in complete silence since the mechanic was refusing to respond to any of them. He just wanted to wait for news whether it was bad or good. The fact that Bruce was doing surgery meant Stephen had a chance of surviving, even if it was the slightest one.

Tony would take what he could get.

"Tony."

The billionaire's head snaps up from its resting place in his hands and he finds Bruce standing in front of the elevator. He and the rest of the team stand up as he walks over and the scientist rubs the back of his neck.

"It was touch and go for a while...but he'll be okay. Stephen will be okay." Tony covers his face and nearly collapses from relief as Bruce continues. "Peter saved his life."

"He saved both of our lives--"

"No...Tony...that compression web saved Stephen's life. Without it, he would have died either before leaving the building or enroute. Strange would not have made it to the tower otherwise."

"How long until my wife wakes up?" Tony asks quietly.

"An hour at least."

"Peter should be up soon. I'll go wait for him first then we'll go down to med-bay."

Bruce nods and makes his way back to the elevator to go back down to med-bay and Tony fights through his relieved trembles to walk back to the master bedroom. Tony opens the door and steps through, quietly closing the door behind him and walks over to the bed to sit next to Peter. He only had to wait another twenty minutes for the teen to wake up and doe-like eyes blink up at him.

"You drugged me." Peter mutters accusingly.

"Actually Uncle Rhodey did, but he just wanted to help." 

Peter plays with a stray thread on the comforter. "I-Is...is it just us now?" He whispers and Tony could tell he was desperately trying not to cry again so he reassured him with a small smile.

"No baby...Mom is going to be okay. You saved his life with your webs."

Peter looks back at him. "Can we see him?"

"Yeah. We might have to wait a while for him to wake up but we can sit with him if you want."

Peter nods and shuffles after his father once he climbs out of the bed, and Tony says nothing when the teen softly grabs the back of his shirt when they step onto the elevator. It was a simple reassurance for Peter that although Stephen was going to be okay, that Tony was still there and safe. When the elevator opened on the med floor, Tony leads his son into Stephen's room and only falters for half a second when he finds the sorcerer connected to a few more things than he was used to seeing when the team got severely injured. Peter didn't seem to notice the slight hesitation and Tony was grateful. He needed to look strong for Peter.

"Why don't we watch a movie while we wait for him to wake up?"

Peter simply nods and they drag a couple of seats over to Stephen's bed and they sit down to watch Ratatouille. About half an hour into the movie, the two jump when the sorcerer grumbles.

"If any of you cook with the help of a rodent, tell me now."

Tony and Peter jump to their feet, sending their chairs sliding back a couple of inches and they move closer to hover over the occupied bed. Stephen reaches up once again to cup Peter's cheek and smiles softly.

"I'm sorry for scaring you cub."

"You're so grounded." Peter replies with a wet chuckle and Stephen responds in kind.

"He's not the only one you scared asshole."

"Oh right. Myself. How could I forget?"

"You're hurt. I'm going to let that slide." Tony says as he leans down and kisses his husband. "On a scale from one to ten, one being hit by a truck and ten being held in the fiery pits of hell, how do you feel?"

"You don't believe in hell."

"Answer the question."

"Four. Hit by a truck and set on fire."

Peter frowns. "Should we get Bruce?"

Stephen smiles. "No. I'm healing myself as we speak." Both Tony and Peter open their mouths to tell him not to push himself but the sorcerer seemed to know what they were going to say. "Slowly. I won't overdo it. Peter, come cuddle while you can before Bruce comes back."

The teen laughs and carefully climbs on the bed to lay next to the sorcerer and Tony returns to his seat, with Stephen's hand in his. They return their attention to the movie, and Stephen falls asleep ten minutes into the second one when Bruce comes back to check on his patient. He opens his mouth when he finds Peter snuggled into Stephen's side, calmly watching the new movie, but decides to say nothing since the doctor was resting. Having Peter on the bed was probably Stephen's idea anyway. Those two were nearly attached to the hip. This family always found comfort with each other and he wasn't about to stop it.

"Don't you get tired of watching Disney movies and Star Wars?" Bruce asks instead.

Peter let out the most offended gasp in the history of America.