Just close your eyes, the sun is going down
You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now
Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound
-"Safe and Sound," Taylor Swift
- - -
Tony didn't pass out on the Quinjet. He didn't let himself, assuring everyone that he was fine, bleeding all over Bucky as the words were coming out of his mouth. Nat had the jet ready to fly in less than a minute, and they took off in two.
"What the HELL were you thinking?! Why didn't you tell us?!"
To Tony's surprise, it was Steve yelling at him.
"Would anything have changed if I had? It doesn't even hurt that much. I'm fine."
"The hell you're fine, when did this happen? It was after I got you, I know you weren't shot when I found you."
There's Rhodey. Tony felt bad, because he had gotten shot after telling Rhodey he'd stay safe.
"It was me or the kid, Rhodes. And I can take it."
"Wait, rewind to the part where you could have not taken a bullet. When did you get in a situation where you made this choice?"
"Rounding the corner. I saw it coming, I didn't move because Peter was behind me. Wasn't the most important thing at the time."
He saw the anger on their faces, the frustration, and he clammed up. Lowered his eyes. He wasn't supposed to be saying this much. He hadn't said this much in a long time.
They tried to get him to say more, but after a few questions going unanswered Bucky realized what was happening.
"Guys, stop. This isn't helping. Steve, remember when you first got me away from HYDRA, and I wouldn't speak unless spoken to?"
A look of realization crossed Steve's face. Bucky continued when he saw it.
"Yeah. I think something similar happened to him. I doubt he was supposed to talk at all." He turned to Tony. "Tony, you're allowed to talk. We aren't going to do anything to you if you talk to us. Or look at us."
After a moment's hesitation, Tony looked up at him, in the eyes for a second, and then back at the chest.
"Sorry."
"You don't need to apologize, Tony." It was Rhodey this time. "We're not mad at you, we were just a bit shocked."
Tony flinched, heartbeat quickening. His eyes were back on the ground again, breathing fast, hand clenched on his side. The pain helped calm him back down. Almost as bad as the prod would have been in its place.
He remembered this. The panic attacks, the seemingly insignificant triggers. A whole new set to deal with now. Once he got his breathing slowed down, he forced himself to look up again.
"Yeah. That particular word is a no-go. It's gonna take me some time, but I really don't need all of your worry. I'm going to be okay."
-
Peter woke up and things felt wrong. He was wearing the wrong clothes, his spidey sense wasn't flaring up, and something seemed wrong with the light.
He wasn't being shocked, but he wasn't alone. He put a hand to his neck and just felt skin and bandages.
Bandages? Where was he? Was this a new game Stryker was playing? Some sort of false hope he was giving him? What was wrong with the light?
Peter looked around and saw normal doors. A window.
A window.
Sunlight.
He felt a hand on his and tensed up. He didn't pull it away because he wasn't allowed to. But the person wasn't grabbing his wrist or trying to hurt his hand, just touching it.
He looked at the person's hand, and then up their arm.
He knew those clothes.
Mr. Stark?
But he said nothing. He wasn't allowed.
"Peter, it's me. Tony. Mr. Stark."
It had to be a trick. Mr. Stark was gone.
"Peter, you're safe. We're out of that awful place."
They were trying to get him to break the rules. They had to be.
"Peter, you're allowed to look at me. And talk to me, if you want. You don't have to follow their rules anymore. I'm not here to hurt you."
It really sounded like him. Peter twitched his hand, and then hesitantly took the hand on top of his. He squeezed it, and it squeezed back softly.
He was going to risk it.
Quickly, he glanced up at the man's face. Or rather, he meant for it to be a glance. His eyes were fixed there when he looked, because it looked like Tony.
And he didn't get the pain he was expecting. In fact, he realized that he was in barely any pain at all, which also felt wrong.
"..where?"
"We're at the Compound, Pete. Bruce helped patch you up, you were pretty hurt when Sam got you here."
"We're really out?"
Peter's voice was still hoarse, and he spoke quietly, as if he were afraid of getting caught. Tony nodded.
"We are really out. You are never ever going to have to go there again."
-
Tony stayed by Peter's side every hour of every day for the weeks it took his body to heal.
Some days, Peter wouldn't talk, or even look up at him. He flinched at every touch and avoided every question.
And then other days, he'd hold a conversation. Ask a question. One day, Peter tapped Tony's shoulder and asked, "What day is it?"
"It's a Tuesday," Tony answered, because it was. "It's 5:46 PM on a Tuesday."
And Peter's smile at that news was burned into his memory forever, framed and filed away in a happy space.
"How long were we gone?"
"125 days. A little over four months."
And there went the happiness.
"I- I missed my birthday," Peter said finally. "Aunt May, my friends, they must all think- I can't go back to them like this. I'm- I'm broken."
"You're not broken, Pete. You're hurt. But you are the strongest kid I know, and the smartest, and I know you can get through this. I'll be with you every step of the way."