SpiderMan Avengers One shots Dad!Tony

Are You Sleeping (3)

It happened again.

And a third time.

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? Why me?

His eyes were bloodshot and face stained with tears. He sat on his bed staring at the third pair of black clothes he ruined. With blood.

What is happening? Why?

Quickly he pushed himself up from the bed and grabbed jeans and a sweater, quickly putting it on. Once he was dressed he pushed his door open and ran out of the apartment.

I need to get away! I need to go! What is happening to me? What is-

Peter fell backwards, his hand catching most of his weight. It should've hurt, it should've hurt a lot. But it didn't. He couldn't even feel it. He looked above him to realize he was in the busy Queens street.

Next to him was a fancy black car and above him was a face that was hanging in his walls.

Tony Stark.

"Hey, kid, are you ok? That was quite the fall." Peter could feel eyes on him in all directions and he slowly pushed himself up off the dirty ground.

"Why- what?" Was the only thing Peter managed to get out. Peters heart thudded against his chest like a drum.

"I had some business to take care... Are you sure you're ok?" He asked again, slightly bewildered.

"Yea-"

"Wait. You're Peter Parker?"

Peter just stood there, his throat as dry as the desert. The only thing he was able to do was nod. He was frozen and he didn't think he could move even if he tried.

"Perfect. I wanted to talk to you, let's go." Tony said with the billionaire smirk on his face.

Without anymore words Tony pushed through the crowd forming around them. Peter stumbles behind him. Tony turned left one time and then right another.

Peter barely managed to keep up with him. To be honest he was at least a foot behind him the hole time. Tony stopped in-front if a small coffee shop and pushed open the doors.

Peter didn't even know this place existed.  The shop was filled with booths and table and in one was a jute box. 80s music flowed from it and detonated the entire room.

Tony walked over to a booth in the corner by the window. He sat down in one side and Peter quickly sat down across from him.

"I'll get straight to it, I saw your application for the internship, may I say your resume is quite impressive. And I'm Tony Stark. The positions is yours,"

Peters mouth feel open. He'd totally forgotten about that. Him and Ned did late ate night during a sleepover.

The old side of Peter wanted to scream in excitement, but the new Peter just sat there, overwhelmed.

"I'd-"

Peter stopped mid sentence and his eyes darted around the room. He saw Me. Stark trying to get his attention, but he could even focus.

Something is wrong. Really wrong. He looked over to the Jute box. Oh no. Please no. God, help me! Please. I beg you! No. No. No.

It was no use. Peter watched in utter horror, and the split second the music stopped he braved in fear.

Not again. Not again. Not again. No, God help me! Not again! NO! Please, please, please. Help me!

From across the table Tony stared at the boy in confusion.  Peter felt his stomach flipping like an acrobat as he waited, hopeless.

I can't stop it. Please help me. Please no.

His knuckles turned whit as he clenched the side of the table in front  of him. He felt the breath leaving his lungs being replaced with ice. He couldn't breathe.

Someone help me! Anyone.

Mr. Stark began yelling, yelling to underarms d what was happening. He tapped on his watch, the repulsed forming around his hands  

The lights went off, Tony screamed for the kid to get under the table and he quickly stood up. He stuck he repulsed out, ready to shoot.

That's when the music started. It was loud, shaking the floor, "Frère Jaques, Frère Jaques, Dormez-vous, dormers-vous, sonnez le matins, sonnez le matins, din din don. Din din don."

A scream pieces through the dark and Tony quickly summoned his suit.  "Peter! Hide!" Mr. stark yelled, unknowingly.

The music cut and out the last turned back in as if nothing happened. Tony didn't take off his suit though. However, he did take off his helmet.

It is happening again. Why?

A sharp edge pricked into Peters hand. A switch was flipped in his mind. He wield was flipped upside down.

Kill! Kill! KILL!

He looked down at the picture in his hand. The man had short hair with a goatee. The he looked up. The man was right in front of him.

KILL! KILL! KILL!

The words were like a drill, drilling themselves into Peter's head. Deeper and deeper an deeper. Each time becoming more urgent than the last.

So urgent he couldn't resist them any longer. He tried, he really did. But he couldn't fight it. It was too strong for him to fight. I was glued to him with glue that can never be removed.

It was him.

Stop, no. I don't want to kill him! Please! Kill! No! Stop! God, please help me! Lord!  I'm begging you! Kill. Help me, what is happening? Kill. Kill. Kill. I need help, someone! Jesus, Lord, God, please help me! Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

And that was it.

The switch was completely flipped.