Isolated Incidents

Fire, Fire, Everywhere

**TW: kidnapping, fire, and shooting. I'm trying to give better tw's at the beginning of my chapters. Enjoy!**

Rhodey didn't know where the hell he was. When he finally came to, he was in a car. The leather of the seats was nice, but it would have been nicer if he wasn't bound and gagged. As soon as Rhodey could get his head to stop pounding enough to actually look around, he noticed Peter wasn't there.

Rhodey thrashed in his binds, looking franticly for Peter. He needed to find Peter.

The front of the car was sectioned off, like a limo would be, so Rhodey couldn't tell who was driving. He threw his head back against the seat of the car and took deep breaths through his nose and out his mouth. He could afford to panic now.

"Hey, assholes," Rhodey said loudly, hoping against all odds that his kidnappers would hear him. "What kind of dicks kidnap a teenager and a baby? Huh? What do you even want- money?"

There was no response behind the dark panel of glass, so Rhodey took a breath and racked his brains. If he was in the trunk, he'd kick out a tail-light and hope a passing car saw his foot hanging out, but he wasn't in the trunk and he was willing to bet that whoever took him and Peter had the windows locked. Probably the doors, too.

Rhodey still hauled himself up to the edge of his seat, his abs straining to set him upright, and then he was twisting so he could loop his fingers over the handle. He gave as hard of a pull as he could manage, but it was locked, just as he had suspected.

There was a sharp turn and then Rhodey was pitched back onto the seat and struggling to sit up again.

A baby's wail caught his ear.

Peter.

It sounded close, if not a little muffled. Rhodey's first panicked though was the trunk, but he turned his head to the side and realized the sound was coming from the front of the vehicle, not the back.

Rhodey breathed a silent thanks for whatever God was looking out for them today. If Peter was being held by someone up in the front, it would at least ensure his safety more than Rhodey'. Rhodey wanted to hold Peter in his own arms, see him with his own eyes, but in this condition... well, handcuffs didn't lend themselves to cradling babies too well.

There was another sharp turn, and another, and Rhodey put it together. They must have been going through 'S' curves often found in the hills. They might have been in Massachusetts still. They could have been in Ohio for all he knew.

Another sudden turn, this one was sustained. Rhodey felt the car slide to the side, and he screwed his eyes shut tight. Hopefully, no matter how much of a dick his kidnappers might be, they could drive in the rain.

Rain.

Rhodey was suddenly aware of the rain.

The car lurched, and this time, it didn't stop. There was the sound of something screeching, and then a sickening, metallic scraping and Rhodey lurched forward. The car was still, but his head was ringing.

There was the sound of doors being opened and closed. Rhodey instinctually pulled his arms. The handcuffs were still holding, but one of the the seat's headrests had come loose. Rhodey lifted his arms as high as he could, hooking the chain around the exposed bar of the headrest, and pulled. It took a few tries, but then there was a creaking of metal and the chain between the cuffs gave out.

Rhodey pulled his hands away and ignored the pain in his shoulders and his head and his whole body, instead pulling himself out of the car and onto cold, wet ground.

There was someone on the other side of the car, and from the sound of the mud squelching and scraping under something heavy, they were dragging something to the car. Rhodey could make out the head of someone in the passenger seat, but they were slumped backwards over the seat, but he couldn't care right now.

He waited until he heard the man on the other side of the car step away, then he eased open the door of the car again.

Peter was in the woman's lap, looking a little dazed and frightened. Rhodey pulled him away quickly, tucking him into his arms and trying to ignore the pain he felt everywhere.

The man on the other side of the car was back, all hulking weight and dark eyes and-

Rhodey turned just in time to see the engine light up in golden flame. He didn't think, he just turned and ran. Peter was tucked into his chest, his legs were burning. His chest was burning. Rhodey had to get Peter out of here. He had to-

There was a sudden bang, like a firecracker, and a searing pain in Rhodey's side. He stumbled, one hand leaving Peter's back to catch himself before he fell to the floor of the forest. A rock dug painfully into the meat of his palm, but Rhodey paid no mind and just kept running.

He had to get away from that glowing orange, growing more and more intense.

He had to get away from whoever was shooting a gun at a teenager and a baby.

He had to-

There was an explosion of heat and wind and metal. Rhodey couldn't afford to unwrap his arms from around Peter, but he still ducked his head to try and avoid being hit. The forest was alive with fire, the explosion sparking several of the surrounding trees to flame. The groundcover was blowing around Rhodey's legs, and as it caught fire, too, he ran even faster.

When he was finally far enough that he wasn't being followed by fire, he turned to look back. The forest was indeed a vision of orange and red, and the smoke... smoke was billowing up into the dark sky, obscuring the stars. Rhodey felt a slight burn in his lungs, but if that was from the sprinting or the smoke, he didn't know.

He didn't care.

He was in the middle of a burning forest, with no idea of where he was or how to get back to Tony. He had a baby clinging to his chest, and the sticky pooling of blood weighing his shirt down.

Fire, fire, everywhere, and not a chance to think.

Rhodey kept running. The trees had to end somewhere, right?