Peachy

Private Eyes

Narrator's POV

"Tony." Bruce sat next to Tony on his bed. "I promise you we will find him." Tony was only quiet. Bruce sighed. "Please get some rest, Tony. We'll continue looking tomorrow."

"Bruce I can't."

"Talk to me." Bruce put a hand on Tony's knee.

"I've had so much happen to me. I've lost family, I've lost friends... This-" Tony sighed. "This is why I didn't want to get my feelings involved. They play with me. I hate them. I wish I had none."

"Tony-"

"He knew exactly what he was doing when he took Stephen. He hit me where it hurt the most. Stephen's the closet I'll ever have to a real family."

"Tony, look around."

"Bruce don't even-"

"No, Tony. Listen to me. You have friends who care about you. They're concerned about you. T'challa's concerned, Everett's concerned, Thor's concerned." Bruce said. "For sure, I'm concerned. We all care about you. You have a family here. I know Stephen's really important to you, and I promise we'll get him back. We'll find him. But please, get some rest. We care about you and would hate for something to happen to you." Tony looked at Bruce with tears in his eyes. He sniffled. "Tony, I-"

Bruce was cut off when Tony suddenly embraced him. He held his friend close, wrapping both arms tightly around him. Bruce sighed and held his friend close, patting his back. Thor soon joined them, holding both of them close.

They were a family. And when a family member was having some trouble, everyone came to help.

///0///0

"Mm..." Stephen groaned. His eyes slowly began to open, tempting him to close them with every attempt he made at trying to open them. His vision was blurry, very blurry. He tried picking his head up, it was very difficult; but he managed to pick it up. He blinked a couple of times before his vision adjusted. He saw Timothy standing with his back to him. He squinted. "Timothy?"

"Oh." Timothy turned to him. "You're awake."

Stephen looked around. "What? Where am I?" He tried to sit up, but couldn't move. He looked down at himself. He was tied down on a chair and only wearing a pair of boxers he had borrowed from Tony.

"No. You still can't go." Timothy said, pointing at him. "Oh, where are my manners?" He laughed. "Good morning." He smiled.

"Where am I? Where are my clothes?" Stephen asked. "I would very much like to have them back."

"Don't worry. They're getting washed." Timothy said. "By the way, Tony's a very lucky boy." He winked.

"Timothy, please. I-ah!" Stephen groaned when he felt pain all of a sudden when he tried to move in the chair.

"Yeah. The drug wears off after a few hours." Timothy said. "I could give you more if you'd like." He said, taking out a syringe.

"No, thank you." Stephen shook his head.

"Well then..." Timothy put it down and brought a chair in front of Stephen. He sat down in it and leaned close to Stephen. "Should we start talking now?"

"Timothy, I told you. I don't remember."

"I know you're smarter than that." Timothy smiled at him. He tossed a dagger into the air and caught it.