A/N: Over 30 people decided to click on this fic so thanks! Hope this doesn't disappoint!

Unfortunately, they don't escape their nightmare before it gets any worse.

Just when Tony's mental calculations tell him it's the next day, Peter stirs, his neck making a distinct cracking noise as he snaps his head up, stifling a yawn.

"Pete? You okay?" Tony asks without missing a beat, his worry flaring back up.

"Wha...? Am I late for- oh, oh, wait, Mister Stark? Did- Did I fall asleep?"

Tony chuckles but its bittersweet. All he really wants is for Peter to be back in his own bed, worrying about punctuality rather than puncture wounds.

They get no more time to talk before a man, a different one from yesterday, walks in with a scowl so heavy it looks as if he was born with it. He flicks a switch and a red light so dim it seems pink comes alive above them.

"Good morning, scowl," Tony says quickly, knowing Peter would say something similar if he didn't and Peter getting unwanted attention is the last thing Tony wants for his son- intern, the last thing Tony wants for his intern.

"It won't be," Scowl replies coolly.

Peter, who'd been trying so hard not to make a sound, accidentally lets out half a yawn, biting his lip as Scowl pauses.

"I guess you're just too boring, huh?" Tony taunts loudly, hoping Scowl will let it go. He knows that expression, he knows nothing good can come from this and he'd much rather acquire another scar for himself than for Scowl to burden Peter with one.

"How dare you fall asleep in my presence?" Scowl's voice gets no louder but there's a new, more deadly edge to it and Peter pales a little.

Tony swears internally as Scowl turns and walks to the side of the room that's always covered in shadows. He tries his best to smile reassuringly at Peter but, when the man steps back onto the light, neither of them can fool the other into thinking they're still nonchalant.

"That's a really big syringe, shouldn't you find a smaller one for me?" Peter jokes nervously.

Ignoring him, Scowl presses down on the inside of Peter's elbow before shaking his head. "No. I think this one suits your disrespect just fine."

"What is that? What are you giving him?" Tony demands, not bothered that he sounds a little desperate. There's a good amount of liquid in the barrel but he can't tell what it is or work out what it's going to do.

"Something to make sure he doesn't fall asleep in my presence again," Scowl replies before steadying the needle.

Peter's breathing is already too unsteady to be healthy but he doesn't let himself flinch when the plunger is pressed and the translucent liquid enters his bloodstream. Two and a half seconds later, just when the needle has been removed, Peter's face scrunches up and he squirms, trying to get free of either his bonds or the pain, or both.

"What have you done? What was it?" Tony almost shouts, the look of agony on Peter's face hurting him more when his arc reactor had been compromised by someone he'd considered as a best friend.

Peter suddenly jerks, throwing his head back and crying out as if on fire, his back arching away from the metal frame as far as it can go, which ends up looking far more painful than it's worth.

"Pete? Pete, listen to me, please! It's okay, focus on me, you're going to be fine, Pete?"

"I- It hurts..." Peter groans through gritted teeth. "Please- puh- please make it sto- ahh!" He jerks again even though he can barely move.

Tony glares at Scowl with all the hatred in the universe and then some. It doesn't help Peter, who's still violently trying to get free, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"I'm sorry, Pete, please, stop, you're going to hurt yourself!" Tony's almost shouting because of how loud Peter is whimpering.

Scowl holds up a hand and looks Tony in the eyes as he slowly puts each finger down one by one, minute by minute. Tony is ready to kill someone by the time Scowl only has one finger left and Peter has started to let out broken sobs. Slowly curling the last finger, Scowl smirks at Tony with the most emotion he's shown so far. His finger has just touched his palm when Peter screams, his attempts to get free weakening considerably.

No matter what Tony starts to say, Peter cuts him off and continues to scream; Tony can feel his heart crumbling. There's a lump in his throat that keeps him from trying to get Peter's attention after the twelfth time he fails, something that Scowl seems to notice.

He leans down beside Tony's ear and whispers, "It's your serum, you know?"

"What?" Tony chokes, the word barely forming on his lips just as the loudest scream so far forms on Peter's lips.

He wants Peter to be out of here, to be happy and screaming with joy instead of agony. The tears that fall from Peter's eyes may as well be acid aimed at Tony's soul, considering how painful they are to watch.

Scowl holds up the needle and, sure enough, there's a little Stark logo on the side. Tony's thrown into the past where nothing he did was for the good of humanity and nobody told him anything until it was too late. He's thrown back into a time where he was nothing more than a pawn but he shakes himself out of it, gritting his teeth to avoid slipping into flashbacks and compromising his composure.

"No, you're lying, that's not mine," Tony mutters, "we haven't manufactured one of those in over a decade, it can't be real. What did you give him? What is it?"

Peter screams again, abrupt, but his larynx protests and his voice soon fizzles into a weak whine, making Tony flinch.

Scowl just shrugs. "Aren't you meant to be good at calculations?" And, with that, he enters the shadows once more, his footsteps fading after a few seconds. Tony figures there must be a door on that side of the room but he's pulled out of his thoughts when Peter sobs.

"M- Mis- Mist- arghh- St- Stark?" He gasps between his weak whimpers, his body twisting as he tries to get free.

"Pete, yeah, I'm here, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, kid."

Peter nods, the muscles in his neck taunt as sobs escape him. He's clearly exhausted, tears falling from his eyes.

"Listen to my voice, Peter, just focus on me. Please." Tony hates talking about his life but, at this point, he'd do anything to help his son- his intern.

"I- I'll ahh- try, Mist- gahh- Mister Sta..." He cuts himself off with a whimper, clenching his fists and arching his back as much as he can.

"Okay, kid, listen up because I'm not saying this again. And don't tell anyone else I told you this..."

Tony starts to tell Peter about his experiences with school and how he'd always try to go above and beyond, which often led to minor catastrophes. He makes some of it up to hide the darker parts of his life he can't bring himself to remember but Peter doesn't seem to notice, his breath alternating between unhealthily fast and unhealthy slow.

He'd like to say he's been keeping track of time but it could be hours later for all he knows when Peter finally slumps, panting, his head falling forwards.

"Peter? Pete, talk to me, are you okay?" Even as he asks it, Tony realises how stupid a question that is. He isn't okay and it's highly unlikely he will be for a while after experiencing something like that.

Peter doesn't move at first. Then he gently unfurls his fist to reveal that he'd pressed his nails into his palm hard enough to pierce the skin, blood tricking over his hands. He exhales slowly and stretches his fingers, not even noticing when the movement aggravates the wounds and more blood leaks from the cuts.

"I am so sorry, Peter," Tony whispers, unable to take his eyes away from the cuts he should have been able to prevent.

When he looks up, his eyes are red, watery and full of pain, puffy from his crying. "Puh- please... Don't look next time."

If his heart wasn't broken before, it is now. The fact that Peter assumes this will happen again and that he blames himself instead of Scowl is the most painful realisation Tony has ever had. He hates that Peter wants him to look away, wants to spare him the pain or spare himself the embarrassment, because it's so stupidly selfless and Tony can never bring himself to do anything like that, not in a million years.

"Peter, no, this wasn't your fault."

"Doesn't matter," Peter mutters quietly. He sounds so hollow, so unlike himself.

Sighing, Tony tries to ignore his self-hatred as he asks, "Pete, I need to know, did anyone mention a name?"

Peter frowns, letting his head fall back and lean on the chair's frame. "One..."

"Which one?" Tony wants to punch himself for questioning Peter when all he deserves is a warm blanket and a three-day-long hug.

"Stane," Peter croaks, his eyes slipping shut as he starts to control his breathing.

Tony swears.

"S- sorry," Peter whispers as if on autopilot.

"No, Pete, it's not you," Tony assures him before trying to think back, trying to remember the names and faces of all the men he'd wanted to leave behind so many years ago.

"I can't... Mister Stark, I can't stay awake!" Peter whimpers, his voice layered with fatigue. Nobody should fear sleep, especially when it's an escape from pain, and someone as innocent as Peter being so afraid kills Tony, it really does.

"It's okay, Peter, let your body heal, you'll be okay," Tony promises, even though it's a lie and he can't guarantee anything because he's not in control of anything anymore.

"You promise?" Peter's eyes are dropping heavily and his voice is weighed down with sleep, his healing factor obviously trying to help him recover.

Tony doesn't even hesitate. "I promise."

There's a small smile on Peter's lips that says he knows both of them are incapable of promising anything right now when he nods. Either way, he falls back into unconsciousness, his hands still dripping blood onto the floor.

As soon as Peter's breathing has settled into a rhythm, Tony says, "Alright, come on, you cowards, who are you?"

There's a minute of silence after which the door opens and white light is thrown into the room while someone slips inside.

"Cowards? You are the one who watched the child suffer and did nothing."

That hurts. Tony had watched his- the child suffer but it's not like he could have actually done anything. It occurs to him that Peter may have seen him as uncaring but there's a small part of him that hopes that's not the case. Peter's not that sort of person anyway.

"We both know what kind of a terrible person I am but I don't know what of a terrible person you work for," Tony replies.

The man, who Tony can now confirm as the same one from yesterday, chuckles. "You really haven't guessed?"

"I don't like guessing. Not really my thing."

He's only half-lying. He has to guess sometimes, he has to, but when it comes to Peter, he'd rather not leave any margins for mistakes at all. Now the whole page is full of Peter's pain and there's nothing he can do about it except try to find out as much as he can and figure out a way to beat them with their own cruelty.

"You heard the boy," the man reminds Tony, which tells him that there's definitely some form of an audio recorder in the room.

"How do I know you didn't give him false information just to scare me?" Tony asks, knowing that Peter is definitely too kind and trusting for his own good.

"It seems you are more than your iron armour."

Tony scoffs, desperate for an answer but not willing to show the extent of his vulnerability. "I'm a genius, haven't you heard?"

The man raises an eyebrow and walks over, tapping the metal strap across his right wrist. "Well then, genius, why haven't you figured out a way to get free?"

He opens his mouth to reply but changes his mind, deciding to leave this battle before it begins and they hurt Peter as collateral damage again. It's taking all he has not to say something sarcastic because nothing they're doing is making sense, there doesn't seem to be a logical system or any kind of protocol.

"Is that all?" the man asks, sounding a little disappointed that he hadn't had to use violence. When he's met with silence, he laughs and walks back to the door, briefly pausing just to say, "We'll see how clever your genius really is in tomorrow's game."

With that, Tony is thrown into both mental and physical darkness. Even the pink light that had been buzzing above them has now been turned off, the two of them back in the grasp of shadows. He lets his head fall back and his eyes slide shut because there's only so long he can go without sleep and shutting down in the middle of whatever they seem to have planned for tomorrow would mean leaving Peter alone, which is something he wants to avoid as much as possible.

The threatening promise of a game throws him off; they hadn't seemed to have any kind of schedule beyond getting them both here and making it clear their situation is Tony's fault but now, they seem to have a plan of action. A plan of action born from revenge and forged with violence can never be good. He has no time to worry about possible outcomes, though, because as soon as he'd told himself he could rest, his brain had seized the opportunity and convinced his mind to feel tired.

With a growing trepidation in his heart, he falls into a restless and barely useful but still well-needed sleep.

Feel free to let me know what you think or point out mistakes, or even request stuff! See you (hopefully) soon! * slowly steps sideways *