Chapter Text
TW: assassination/murder, mention of drugging
3rd Person P.O.V.
When Peter awoke, he immediately knew something was off. His bed felt different, the room smelled weird, and there was the unmistakable clacking sound of keyboard keys. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his vision. His original thought had been correct– this was not his room.
“What the-”
“Oh!” A young, sandy blond man turned around in his chair, smiling charmingly at Peter. Despite the young man’s cheerful demeanor, the dark circles under his eyes and the frantic typing from before put Peter on edge.
Well, that and the fact that he had just woken up somewhere that was definitely not where he should be.
“Nice to see you finally awake. I must admit, I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon,” the man mused. Peter narrowed his eyes at the man. Something was really wrong here. Peter glanced around his surroundings, not noticing anything particularly strange (other than the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here). His memories from before waking up here were fuzzy, but one detail stuck out to him.
“You…” Peter inhaled sharply, rubbing a thumb over the tender skin of his neck. “You drugged me!” The man chuckled nonchalantly, as if Peter hadn’t just accused him of such a thing.
“Well, yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Hope it’s not too sore.” The blond stood up, opening up a mini-fridge hidden in a corner. “I have an ice pack, if you’d like.”
Peter frowned, eyebrows furrowed. He couldn’t figure out what this guy’s deal was. He had drugged Peter– assumably kidnapping him as well– but was treating him as a guest rather than his latest victim. It was… odd, to say the least.
“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself!” The man approached Peter, smiling as he extended a hand. “I’m Harley.”
Peter hesitated, slowly accepting Harley’s hand to shake it. “I’m-”
“Peter. I know, darlin’.” Peter shuddered, pulling his hand back. Who did this guy think he was?
“What do you want with me?” Peter hissed, glaring up at Harley.
“I-” Harley sighed, brow drawn into a frown. “Look, I know this-” Harley gestured all around the room. “-is probably really scary right now. And I totally don’t blame you for feeling that way!” Harley put his hands up as if he was innocent. “But you gotta understand I have a reason for bringing you here.”
Peter crossed his arms, unamused. “And why should I listen to anything you have to say?”
“Because…” Harley glanced to the side, frowning. “Because you want to know. You’re curious, right?” Harley smirked. “You want to know why you’re here; why I have you here, unrestrained and comfortable?” The blond leaned in close, making searing eye contact with Peter. “You’re smart. You know this isn’t just some kidnapping for the hell of it.”
Peter stayed silent, too shocked to speak.
“You want to know?” Harley asked.
Peter nodded.
“Well– I guess I should just put it right out here in the open– I’m an assassin,” Harley informed. Peter’s defiant gaze turned to fear as his blood ran cold, thoughts sprinting through his head faster than he could even comprehend. “Yeah. You know how much a life is worth, Peter?”
“No…?”
“Well, yours is apparently worth two million dollars.”
Peter’s eyes blew wide with fear, shimmering tears threatening to fall. His life… reduced to a price tag? One that, apparently, someone was willing to pay? Peter had always tried to be as friendly and kind to others as he could… who could he have pissed off so badly to get a bounty on his head?
“But,” Harley continued. “I don’t think you deserve that.” He watched Peter’s trembling form, gently brushing away a tear as he grabbed the brunette’s chin. “Look. I’ve been studying you. And I know that sounds creepy, but it’s all part of the job.” Harley brushed it off, gesturing pointlessly. “And you, Peter Benjamin Stark? You’re worth a lot more than two million.”
Peter let out a sob, closing his eyes and pulling his chin from Harley’s grasp. The assassin had been kind to him, it’s true. But kindness was irrelevant when information like that had just been delivered.
“I don’t mean to upset you,” Harley murmured. “I wanted to leave you alone, trust me. But… even if I were to refuse the job, someone else would be hired in my place. When someone with that much money wants someone dead, well…”
“But… why?” Peter cried, tearful eyes piercing into Harley’s very soul. “Why would someone want me dead? What did I do?” Harley’s expression softened, offering his hands to the upset brunette.
“You are the son of Tony Stark. You realize that puts a target on your back, right?” Harley explained, trying to speak as gently as he could. He hated to see Peter cry. “Your dad has made a lot of enemies during his career. I guess… it was assumed the best way to get to him was through you.” Harley’s voice was surprisingly tender for an assassin. “I’m sorry. But I’m trying to help.”
“You aren’t going to…?”
“No.” Harley shook his head. “Look, I don’t usually do this. Most of the time my targets are politicians or old white guys with no morals. But you? You’re so young… too young. And innocent. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Peter blinked away tears, letting out a shuddering breath.
“But… what about my dad?” He wondered, tone fragile from crying. Harley sighed, shoulders slumping.
“I… don’t know. I was planning on planting ‘evidence’ of your death tonight, so…” Harley shrugged. “It’ll probably be hard for him. But you have to understand that this is the best way. This is the only way for you to survive.”
“But-”
“No.” Harley’s voice was firmer now. “Look. My client is a powerful man. And if he wants you dead, he’ll find a way,” he warned. “However. He’s getting older. He’s getting sicker. He’s not going to live much longer.” Harley explained. “And I promise to you… you will get to go home. But only once it’s safe.”
~
Months had passed, and Peter was still living in Harley’s hideout. Peter had grown used to the small room, Harley always making sure he was comfortable.
Once the news of Peter’s “death” had hit the press, the world was rocked to its core. He was well-known as Tony Stark’s son and heir to Stark Industries, but he was also quite popular online and had a generous number of followers on several platforms. With his good looks, friendly nature, and sense of humor, it was only natural that he was known for more than just his name. And fans all over the globe mourned the loss of their favorite bubbly brunette.
As more time passed and Harley and Peter grew closer, Harley couldn’t help the terrible weight of guilt building up in his gut. He liked- no. He loved Peter, and it hurt to see him so sad and alone. Harley did his best to keep Peter company, but it wasn’t enough, and he knew it. Peter missed his dad, his friends, his family… Harley couldn’t provide all of that.
He could, however, help Peter get home. Where he belonged.
One night, Harley decided he’d had enough. He loved Peter too much to let him suffer any longer. Once the brunette was asleep, Harley left, dressed in form-fitting black.
It was time to end this, once and for all.
He knew where the old man would be. He was recently admitted to a hospital due to his declining health, a room all to himself and guards protecting the doors at all times.
But Harley was smart. He had been in this business for a few years now. He knew exactly how he would manage it.
The old man’s guards were outside his room. They came in every hour to check on him before returning to their posts. If Harley waited until right after a check-in…
He peered through the window, eyes narrowed as he squinted into the dark room. There were no cameras, he noted. This would be too easy.
Harley hid himself as well as he possibly could when he noticed the door open. Two guards marched in, checking around the room briefly. The old man slept right through it. They left, Harley gently pushing the window open as the door closed. He hopped down to the floor soundlessly, tiptoeing across to the old man’s bed.
He quickly got to work, first lowering the volume on the heart monitor. He had to do this slowly so it would be less noticeable to anyone listening. Then he pulled out a tiny vial of liquid– he had been looking forward to this part– and added it to the man’s IV bag.
The liquid worked quickly, and the old man was soon left gasping weakly, heart monitor beeping rapidly. Harley snuck back out, closing the window behind him as he climbed up onto the hospital roof. From there, it was easier to jump across to the next building, climbing down from that one and running off into the night.
~
“-ey. Hey, wake up!” Peter groaned, feeling hands shaking him. He mumbled sleepily, pushing the hands away.
“Five more minutes…”
“Darlin’, you’re going home.” Peter’s eyes shot open.
“Huh?”
“He’s dead. You can go home,” Harley repeated, smiling weakly. Peter sat up, eyes wide and shining.
“You mean it? Today?”
“Today.”
~
“DAD!” Peter cried, running at Tony Stark with wide arms. The billionaire turned around, eyes widening, first with fear, then with shock. He let out a soft “umph” as Peter ran into him, wrapped up in a tight hug. It had been months since Peter’s “death” and Tony couldn’t be more surprised or excited to finally see his son again.
“Pete?!” Tony gasped, eyes shiny with tears. Peter looked up at his dad, grinning widely.
“I missed you so much!” The brunette exclaimed, refusing to let go of his father.
“I- but- you were-” Tony stuttered, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to have you home, kiddo. I’ve missed you more than you know.”
From above, Harley watched the reunion, a few stray tears leaking from his own eyes. Whether it was from the happiness of the moment or the realization of what he’d lost… he wasn’t sure. But he knew it was the right thing to do. If you love someone, let them be free.
“Where have you been? Are you hurt? Did someone have you?” Tony asked, rapid-fire questioning Peter. “We can go down to the police station and-”
“We don’t need to do that,” Peter assured, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m completely fine. I’ve just really missed you and everyone else.”
“...” Tony frowned, unconvinced. “...I guess we don’t need to talk to the police. But don’t think I’m just going to let this go. There’ll be many more questions… but I think I’ll spend some time with my son first.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair, resting a protective arm over his shoulder.
Harley backed away from his hiding spot, finally tearing his gaze away from Peter and Tony. That was that, then. Peter would most likely never want to see him again. It was over.
He jumped down from the ledge, landing on the fire escape and climbing down the rest of the way to the ground. Harley could hear sirens in the distance– a fairly normal occurrence in the city.
The sirens grew closer, the first cop car turning the corner and heading toward him. Harley felt a bubble of anxiety bubble up as several cop cars surrounded him, weapons aimed at him from every direction. He put his hands up, life seeming to move in slow motion as he was cuffed and shoved into the back of the cop car. Harley felt like he was underwater, every word spoken around him muddled and stained.
“Look! It’s the guy who kidnapped Peter Stark!” A voice rang clear in his mind. No. No. No, they had it all wrong, he didn’t… he wasn’t like that…!
“You’re going to be behind bars for a long time,” a cop smirked at him, slamming the car door in his face. Harley felt tears stream down his face, watching out the window as he passed Peter on the street.
He knew. He knew that would be the last he ever saw of Peter. It was his own goddamn fault, but it stung terribly to realize. It doesn’t matter if he did the right thing or not… which he wasn’t sure of either. God, was he really as horrible as these people were saying? Was he truly…
a monster?
Peter, Harley thought. He doesn’t think badly of me. And yet, when he had passed the brunette on the street… he seemed relieved.
He really was a monster. A murderer, a kidnapper, all of it. Everything they said about him was true. Maybe he deserved this, after all.