A/N: 100 reads? i don't deserve this, thank you :)
Sorry, I uploaded this to the other three sites hours and hours ago but wattpad wasn't working so it's a bit late, my bad! Anyway...

Water.

Is he drowning?

Wait, never mind, he can breathe again.

Tony blinks away his fatigue and opens his eyes to see Peter doing a similar thing, both of them now awake and drenched.

"Oh, hey, Scowl, I'm awake this time..." Peter mumbles, "So awake. I've never been more entranced by a guy in gear..."

Scowl raises an eyebrow and glances between them before just accepting it. "I see."

"How about some small talk? How's the weather? Maybe let us know which city we're in?" Tony adds, ignoring the dull ache in his arm. "How are things at home? Are the kids well?"

Scowl smiles at that. "The kids might be alright but the parents-" he walks towards Tony and cracks his knuckles- "well, the parents better watch their backs."

"Are you referring to me? I can't even feel my back, never mind watch it. And who exactly have I given birth to then? My assistant didn't inform me of my apparent pregnancy, should I fire her? Or perhaps reconsider my understanding of biology?"

He's rambling, he knows he is. If they ever get out of here, he'll never be able to scold Peter for spewing out words at ninety miles per hour again without being called a hypocrite.

"Are you telling me that he-" Scowl points to Peter- "isn't your kid?"

Tony inhales sharply, then glances at Peter. But Peter is suddenly very interested in his nails, avoiding any chance of eye contact, so Tony says nothing, slowly nodding his head a little and hoping it won't land them in even more trouble.

Scowl shrugs. "Very well then. Let the game begin."

"Hold on, what is this game?" Tony asks, "Don't you have to tell us the rules and stuff?"

"Not if he's not your kid," Scowl replies with a sly smirk.

He's torn. He knows that admitting he cares for his son- his intern, admitting he cared for his intern means they can use that against them even more but he doesn't want to throw them into any kind of game with nothing. He's so torn that he says nothing, even when Peter's head snaps up, clearly sensing something Tony can't.

And then Tony smells it: heat.

"What are you doing? Are you burning something?" Tony asks instantly, straining to try and see.

"Oh, don't you worry about it," Scowl says as he re-emerges from the shadows he's walked into while Tony was mentally arguing with himself.

"What's the aim?" Peter asks, his voice a little rough. Scowl turns to him and must whisper something because Peter nods, adding, "He's just my boss."

"Yeah, exactly, what are we playing for?" Tony asks, unable to figure out why that comment had hurt him so much when coming from Peter's mouth.

Scowl sighs and gestures to the shadows, from which a new man appears, wearing a name-tag of all things. Conner - which is his name according to the piece of plastic stuck to his lab coat - stands beside Peter and rests an arm on his elbow. "Food."

Just at the mention, Peter's stomach rumbles and Tony can feel the pull of hunger in his own mind. For him, it's not even a choice, he'd give the food to Peter in a heartbeat because his increased metabolism means he genuinely needs it more to survive.

"You strapped us into metal chairs because you wanted to watch us eat?" Peter jokes, "Couldn't you stick to stalking like the rest of them?"

Connor chuckles but it's hollow and cold. "The two of you really like talking, don't you? I wonder who can stay silent for longer..."

Peter and Tony glance at each other, connecting the dots instantly. "Not me!" Tony blurts first, "I definitely can't so you should give the food to him!"

Scowl comes back with two unusually sharp knives in his hands, giving one to Connor without even looking at him before saying, "Winner gets to choose what happens with the food."

Tony shuts up. He's never shut up so fast. He'd shut up for all of eternity if it meant Peter can get the food he needs to stay alive.

Scowl presses the blade to the outer side of his shoulder and gently cuts into the skin. Tony can see Connor doing the same on Peter's arm and he wants to beg them to stop but he can't risk losing their game so he just apologises with his eyes.

One cut.

It stings, it hurts, but it's not too bad. He can see Peter's now-healed hands clenching again though.

Two cuts.

Scowl seems to be greatly amused by Tony's silence and makes the action longer this time, the pain sharp and slow, Connor looking on almost gleefully.

Three cuts.

Now he has a trilogy of spilling blood and he can feel it running down his arm but he blocks out the pain, ignoring it like he's done so many times before because he has to, Peter needs him to.

Four. Five. Six. Seven cuts.

Peter isn't holding up well and Tony can see it. His older cuts are already starting to heal but it's clearly draining him of the energy he so desperately needs and Tony wants nothing more than to hear him make a sound, any sound.

Eight. Nine. Ten cuts.

They've reached elbows at this point and Tony has his teeth gritted so hard he can't feel his lower jaw at all and there's a dull ringing in his ears. He doesn't know how much longer he can take the combination of pain on his arm and Peter's face before he snaps and ruins everything.

Eleven cuts.

Peter opens his mouth but nothing comes out, his eyes meeting Tony's with a look of pain that could break anyone's heart, except Scowl and Connor, who are either heartless or insanely well-trained.

Twelve cuts.

Tony can't clench his fist anymore because that tenses his muscles and disturbs the cuts on his forearm. He's resorted to biting his tongue, breathing as deeply as he can and trying to think of ways to escape this ridiculous situation, to go back home and listen to Peter ramble about lightsabers.

Thirteen cuts.

There are tears in Peter's eyes and tears in Tony's soul. Tony can't bring himself to smile anymore, breathing through his nose and watching the blood spread down Peter's arm so he can re-create this scene with their positions reversed as soon as they get out, as soon as Peter is safe, as soon as they can be free of this nightmare and go back to eating ice-cream.

Fourteen cuts.

Tony can taste blood in his mouth from where he's bitten his tongue too hard when Peter cries out.

He gasps for breath, clearly having been holding it, and Tony finally lets himself breathe properly as well. Scowl and Conner share a look before walking to the shadowed corner once more, probably to dispose of the blood-covered knives. Peter sobs as they do, his head dropping forwards in what Tony thinks is guilt.

"I won, right?" Tony asks shakily.

Scowl nods as he returns, his hands clean and his small smile fake. "Yes."

"Good." Tony catches his breath, spitting out the blood in his mouth. "I want my- want the kid to get the food."

"You're not accepting your prize?"

There's something wrong with the expression on Scowl's face, as if there's something he's hiding, but Tony can't place it so he just nods. "No. Give it to Peter."

"Refusing a prize will result in punishment," Scowl tells him blankly.

Punishment. Tony shakes his head, not caring what they do to him if it means Peter can stay alive a little longer, long enough for someone to find them.

"I accept. I accept the punishment. I don't care what it is, I accept it. Just give him the food."

Peter's sobs have faded to uneven breaths by now, his eyes red-rimmed with the tears he'd tried to hold back. He doesn't complain when Scowl not-so-gently attaches an IV drip to the arm they hadn't sliced into, only slightly wincing when the flow is started.

"How do I know you haven't poisoned that?"

"We are men of promise," Connor says from somewhere, "Now, sleep until your punishment."

The two men leave and a hissing sound fills the air, followed by a gas Tony tries his best not to breathe in. He watches as Peter succumbs to unconsciousness - looking less pale already, which proves that the men were actually telling the truth - and manages to curse at himself before he finally has to inhale, promptly feeling his eyes fall shut.

Water.

Again.

Tony splutters, his dreamless induced sleep dissipating in a heartbeat.

The smell of burning is strong in the air as he glances over Peter, who looks healthy, albeit in pain, and is now devoid of an IV drip. Peter smiles weakly, his eyes full of concern and the same agitation Tony can feel growing in his own blood. Speaking of, the blood has stopped trickling out of the cuts in his arm, some of it dried and some of it having rolled down his skin and fallen into a pool on the floor.

Connor and Scowl both smile crookedly as they reappear, apparently having the habit of making every single entrance and exit as dramatic and creepy as possible. If Tony wasn't so nervous about the aforementioned punishment, he'd definitely have made some kind of snarky comment about it.

"What have you decided?" Scowl asks.

Tony blinks. "What? Was I meant to brood over something whilst asleep?"

"What is he to you?" Connor asks, pointing to Peter, whose stare is full of confusion and dread.

"My intern," Tony replies but his voice is small, uncertain, unconvincing.

He doesn't know who they are or what they want so he can't tell what they want to hear from him. They know by now that he cares for Peter but he's had no hints about their motives or what they would do with his answer so he can't plan anything, can't predict anything.

"So you wouldn't mind if we gave him the punishment instead?" Scowl asks coolly, raising an eyebrow.

Peter's eyes widen in panic and Tony's heart drops. "What? No, I would mind, thank you very much. He- He's a vital asset to my company and I need him in good shape..." He doesn't even know what he's saying, he just wants to say anything that will help to protect Peter.

"But your relationship is clearly only professional..." Scowl's voice is dripping with a sense of victory.

Tony wants to punch his teeth out. "That's enough. Just give me my punishment."

Having been too focused on Scowl to notice his departure, Connor's re-entry makes Tony jump. His jaw drops in disbelief as he sees the metal rod akin in shape to a stamp that Connor is holding. The end, a triangle, is glowing red, clearly the source of the burning smell he'd thought he'd been hallucinating.

"No! Don't!" Tony shouts, straining as Connor walks towards Peter.

"Why?"

"You can't, you can't hurt him," Tony breathes, his need for Peter's safety more important than his need for oxygen at this point.

Scowl unbuttons the shirt Peter's wearing so the upper half of his body is free, free to be in pain.

"Stop! Leave him alone!" He thrashes against the metal but the only thing he succeeds to do is reopen half of the cuts on his arm.

The metal rod is positioned in front of Peter and said teenager starts to quietly whimper, turning his head to the side as if the danger will vanish just because he can't see it. Connor steps forwards and Tony can see Peter's spidey-sense warning him to get away - his hands are twitching - but neither of them can move to stop it.

"Just give us one reason," Scowl says, still glaring at Tony. He just bites his lip helplessly until Peter yelps, inhaling to attempt avoiding the metal rod when Connor moves forwards and the heat is pushed closer to his skin. Tony gives in, he can't sit here and fool anyone by saying Peter is nothing more than his intern, least of all himself.

"Okay, stop! Stop!" Tony gasps, sighing with relief as Connor pauses. "I don't want you to hurt him because- oh, what the- because he's my kid, okay? He's my kid and I care for him, is that what you wanted to hear?"

Connor steps back, Peter exhales and Scowl grins, walking forwards and obscuring Tony's view of his kid. He glances over Tony's expression with disgust before tapping his chest, the arc reactor, making him wince.

"This," Scowl says, pushing down on the arc reactor and making Tony gasp, translucent spots dancing in his vision, "is the best thing you have to remind you of your father, is it not?"

"What's it to you?" Tony croaks, coughing as Scowl doesn't take the pressure off his chest.

There's a moment where Tony connects both the dots in his vision and the ones Scowl seems to be colouring in with his words just before Connor asks: "Don't you want your kid to have something that reminds him of you?"

Peter screams.

His scream is high and strained and painful and raw and Tony hates himself or allowing this to happen. He can't see what's happening but he doesn't need to because he can smell it, he can smell Peter's burning skin and it's so obvious, it's so obvious what they're doing. It takes everything he has not to break down, wondering why on earth he hadn't figured it out when he'd seen the triangle on the end of the rod, the triangle that perfectly matches the shape of the one stuck in his own chest.

The howl of agony that leaves Peter's mouth is so loud, Tony's not sure he'll ever be able to get it out of his head. He can hear Peter writhing in his bounds but his screaming doesn't stop, his voice scarily strong as his pain continues.

Scowl, seemingly satisfied, pushes on Tony's chest once more before letting go entirely, stepping back and walking away. Connor must be following the same schedule because Peter's howl gets so much louder, so much more intense, before it breaks down into broken wails and the quiet sound of hot metal being pulled away from melted skin can be heard.

Peter's face is covered in tears, his wrists and ankles bleeding from where he's pulled on his joints to try and get free and his hair flopping down over his eyes as his chest rapidly rises and falls. He's still intermittently crying out, otherwise alternating between meek groans and feeble wails. His shoulders are shaking but Tony focuses on his face, not wanting to look at his chest, not wanting to see the damage he will never forgive himself for allowing.

"I'm so sorry, Pete, I'm so sorry," Tony whispers and, with a blank version of shock, realises he's crying.

Peter doesn't reply but Tony hadn't expected him to anyway. He manages to lift his head up and his pain-filled eyes lock onto Tony's before they roll back, his eyelids flickering rapidly as he loses consciousness yet again.

"I'm so sorry," Tony murmurs again, his chin wobbling as the image of Peter's beautiful, innocent eyes filled with hopeless agony and endless pain fills his mind.

His heart has literally been shattered a dozen times but it has never, never felt so broken.

First of all, no, you can't kill me for causing pain.

Second of all, yes, that was a lowkey BTS reference parody in the title.

Thirdly, one of my friends is in a difficult, messy situation and needs some help so I've opened fanfic commissions, check out the post on my Tumblr (wordsablaze) if you're able to help and want me to write something for you!

Thanks for reading! Have a great day / night and see you next time!