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My contribution to @multiverse-irondad-july
Marmoris
In his many years aboard his pirate ship, Captain Tony Stark has seen many things; all kinds of sea creatures, storms that tear ships apart, clusters of stars falling, treasures beyond one's imagination… and hostages.
Peter Parker, a son from a big merchant family, was basically a golden goose. And here he was, walking around the port, unguarded.
So, they snatched the kid and now have to keep him prisoner until his family pays the ransom. Seriously, how hard can it be?
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Chapter 1
Prompt: hostage
In his many years aboard his pirate ship, Captain Tony Stark has seen many things; all kinds of sea creatures, storms that tear ships apart, clusters of stars falling, treasures beyond one's imagination... and hostages.
Robbing merchant ships, he left that to others. To those crazy ones. He's witnessed a fair share of pirate ships sinking because those fools bit off more than they could chew. Not to mention the merchant ships have gotten more armed to prevent the attacks.
So, no thanks. Tony didn't have a death wish. Gallows weren't his style and he loved his ship, Friday, more than anything else.
But one still had to make a (dis)honest living. That's where the hostages - his crew's specialty - came in.
All it took was some rich merchant’s moment of inattention, and the crew’s pay was secured. Some begged for their life right away, offering money and whatnot, and those more defiant were quickly put in their place with a simple threat to walk the plank or a knife to a throat. No blood had to be shed – after all, they were professionals – and once the payment was received, the hostage was dropped off in the nearest port.
When Rhodey ran up to him in the Baybell Port, all excited about their newest possible victim, none of them had any idea what they would be getting into.
Peter Parker, a son from a big merchant family, was basically a golden goose. And here he was, walking around unguarded.
It was obvious he was trying to blend into the crowd. For anyone untrained, it would be nearly impossible to pick him out from the sea of people, but Tony's crew had good eyes. Despite the simple design and muted colors, his clothes were all too new and good quality for that part of the seaside town. There was also the matter of how he carried himself and took everything in with a spark of wonder in his eyes. Not to mention his shoes, made of shiny brown leather, were way too clean.
You can tell a lot about the person by their shoes, Tony's mother used to say.
These sheltered kids, naïve and gullible, were quick and easy money.
While Rhodey kept tailing the kid to make sure no one else would try to snatch and use him to shake some money from his family, Tony rushed ahead to gather the rest.
About five minutes down the road the kid was on, there was a small pub owned by Tony's old friend Happy. Tony positioned himself right outside the entrance while others waited inside for his signal.
The instant their future victim turned the corner, Tony raised his glass to his lips. Loud cheering and clinking of glass erupted from inside. Rhodey picked up the pace, nudging the kid slightly in the process, and disappeared into the pub. More cheers followed.
As expected, that got his attention. "Someone's in a good mood," he commented with a slight smile.
"Aaah," Tony downed the rest of his drink and stood up, "they're celebrating. A daughter was born to the captain." Ever so casually, he threw a hand around the kid's shoulders and began to lead him inside. "Come join us. You know what they say, the more, the merrier. And the captain's paying," he added with a wink.
"Oh? Oh, no thank you, I don't want to intrude."
"Harold! One more beer for our friend here!"
“It’s fine, sir. You don’t have to—”
“Nonsense,” Tony basically shoved the kid on the wooden chair next to Rhodey, then sitting down, essentially trapping him, “besides, it’s already poured. That would be a waste of perfectly good beer if you walked out now.”
The kid kept protesting half-heartedly, thankfully not finding holes in Tony’s logic, but Tony could see that thrill on his face. He could bet his ship this kid was seeking adventure in the uncharted territories denied to him by his upbringing.
Forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.
"What's the matter, big boy?" Natasha said as she put the pint in front of the kid. She leaned on his shoulder, putting her cleavage on display. "Never had a beer before?"
The kid's eyes briefly flashed to the exposed area before he pointedly looked to the other side, his cheeks dusting pink. Exactly what Natasha needed to pour a small vial of clear liquid into the drink. "No. Of course I had a beer before."
She laughed and ruffled his hair. "My, aren't you a polite thing." Then she was gone, off to work on a ransom note.
The first sip the kid took proved his previous statement a lie. Good. At least he won't notice anything odd about the taste.
The rest of them kept up the ruse of congratulating Steve on his non-existent child until the kid's pint was nearly empty and his eyelids started to grow heavy. He was slouching in his chair, head resting in his palm.
"I sh'd go. 's getting late."
Rhodey rested his elbow on the kid's shoulder, preventing him from standing up. Not like he would've walked far, but still. "Already? But you've been only a little while! Don't you want another beer?"
"Nnnnnn-" By some miracle, he shook Rhodey off, placed his hands on the table and heaved himself upwards. Yeah, no way he would be able to walk away from here on his own. Just a bit longer… "Hafta get back b'fore they r'lise I sneak'd out," he whisper-slurred.
Tony's heart skipped a beat. Was the kid for real? He sneaked out? That would explain the lack of guards, but that meant no one knew he was missing yet.
Ooh, the day just got way better.
"Come on, one more," Thor caught the kid's unfocused gaze. "So the captain's son will be strong and healthy."
"…son?"
Damn it, Thor.
"I thought you s... you said dau'ter?"
"Uh... he has twins?"
The kid looked around the table, no doubt noticing everyone watching him like sharks watched their prey. His breathing picked up. "I... I have to... go."
He didn't make it two steps before his knees gave in, and if it wasn't for Tony leaping from his chair and catching the kid under his arms, he would've fallen like a sack of potatoes.
Doing kidnappings for a living was risky as it was, but unnecessary injuries were bound to attract even more wrath of powerful people. Tony didn’t need that for his crew. Besides, the kid was already destined to have a killer headache once he woke up. Why add to that?
Those few weak kicks and struggles ceased soon after, and the kid went totally limp.
Natasha emerged from the back room, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders.
"Got the note?" Clint asked.
She held up a letter with an A pressed into the red wax.
"How much are we asking?"
"Five thousands."
Rhodey whistled. "Damn. Kid's worth a lot more than I thought."
"Be ready to sail once I get back," she said, threw the hood on her head and left.
Tony looked back at others and jerked his head towards the dead weight in his arms. "Let's get him onto the ship."
In his many years aboard his pirate ship, countless hostages have found themselves in the brig. Tony, however, has never seen anything, or anyone, like this.
"And, you know, I've never had anything like that before. The taste was certainly unique, but it wasn't bad—"
Jeez, this one just won't shut up, will he?
The kid woke up disoriented, which surprised no one. The crew left him there for a moment to regain enough of his bearings to realize what was happening, then got him some water, and as per usual, explained where he was and why.
Now Tony waited for a reaction. Defiance? Confusion? Begging? Would it be tears? That would be understandable, the kid was on the younger side and pretty much at the age limit they were willing to take. Nobody needed to hear a constant wailing of some child. They’d made that mistake once. Never again.
But no. To Tony’s utter horror, the kid looked almost… excited. No, that wasn’t exactly right. There was that badly hidden curiosity he saw back at the port too. It never seemed to leave the kid’s eyes.
He was willing to brush it off. After all, their hostage wouldn’t be going anywhere, with him being locked up below and all – except that little shit somehow managed to pick the lock and casually strolled on the deck!
“Uh- hi,” he waved, awkward smile on his face. Everyone just froze and stared. “Am… am I not supposed to be up here?”
They made a quick work of tying his hands behind his back and leading him back to the cell, where another nasty surprise awaited. Apparently, the brat somehow managed to damage the lock so it wouldn’t click all the way.
A sheepish grimace crossed the kid’s face. “Oops?”
The day that started seemingly great already felt impossibly long, and the dinner wasn’t served yet. “Please,” Tony turned his eyes to the sky, “give me a rest.”
But did the sky listen?
No.
An hour later, Barton scrambled up on the deck, begging someone to take his place because the kid wouldn’t shut up.
Barton! Who has gone half deaf from the cannons!
“He just keeps on going,” he lamented. “The threats did nothing. He talks even if you ignore him! I need a break,” was all he said before shuffling over to the hammock on the quarterdeck.
So, they had to settle this by drawing straws, and as Tony’s luck had it, he drew the shortest one. Captain or not, he had to go below deck and sit in the uncomfortable wooden chair placed against the wall next to the cell door for an hour to earn his two hours of peace before risking getting drafted again.
Someone up there had to have it out for him today.
“This is your first kidnapping, isn’t it?”
The kid’s head tilted to the side, reminding Tony of a puppy. “… yes,” he admitted, averting his gaze briefly. “How did you know?”
“Just a lucky guess,” Tony deadpanned. Well, that certainly explained a thing or two. Just how exactly has he made it this far in life without getting himself into something similar? “You know, hostages aren’t supposed to talk this much.”
“O-oh. I understand.”
Thank the Lord! Tony thought. Finally some damn peace and quiet.
“So… what is the limit? How much should I talk? Or shouldn’t. I need something to work with here since, you know, I’m kind of new to all of this. Are there some official protocols I have to read or—”
If he could go back in time, he would’ve first slapped Rhodey for suggesting this whole thing and then himself for agreeing. With his right hand covering his face, his left hand reached for his pocket watch to check how much time he had left.
Twenty-eight minutes.
“I meant you shouldn’t talk at all,” Tony said through gritted teeth. Damn, he should’ve left him to make out with the floor back in the pub. “Hostages don’t talk. Period.”
Silence.
“But what if I have to go to the bathroom? Or ask for more water?”
Oh no, he won’t be able to do this. The noise will make his own head hurt—
Hold on…
“Hey,” Tony looked over his shoulder. There was that telltale strain around the kid’s brown eyes as he rested his forehead against the metal bars. Yes, this could work. “Be honest with me. Your head hurts, right?”
The kid’s lips pressed into a thin line, avoiding Tony’s face. Then, he reluctantly nodded.
“Okay, I’ll cut you a deal,” Tony paused to make sure the kid was listening, then continued, “I’ll get you something to help you with the headache if you promise to keep quiet for the foreseeable future. What do you say? Pretty sweet deal if I, an honest businessman, say so myself.”
“You’re a pirate. Nothing honest about you.”
A pirate? Excuse you, he wasn’t just any pirate. He was a pirate captain. “Don’t sass me. So? Do we have a deal?”
Some of the tension in the kid’s shoulders and around his eyes dissipated, no doubt in relief. “Deal.”
“Good boy,” Tony stood up, smiling. “Stay right where you are. I’ll be right back.”
When he got to the cabinets where the medical supplies were kept, he was met with Steve, who was organizing the fresh ones. “Don’t mind me,” Tony said as he rummaged through the drawers.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just a little something to help our little golden goose with his heada- aha!” he held out a similar vial Natasha had used earlier.
Tony wasn’t taking any chances. The kid would stay quiet.
The vial was plucked from his grasp. “No,” Steve said firmly, putting a different vial in Tony’s hand. “This one is for the headaches.”
“I know,” Tony rolled his eyes. “If I wanted this one, I would just take it, don’t you think?”
Steve merely put the vial back into the drawer and locked it, not breaking eye contact at all.
“That’s freaky, Rogers.”
“Go.”
“I’m the captain. You can’t make me.”
The man’s hard expression turned into a very smug one. “Well, captain, I’m pretty sure you still have over twenty minutes of guard duty. You wouldn’t want to make it another hour if the crew calls foul play, would you?”
Tony closed his palm around the vial and walked out of the room, but not before muttering, “I hope you get picked next, see how you like it.”
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