Y/N

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TONY STARK SENT YOU A MESSAGE!

Come to the tower.
I'll send a car.

I'm asking myself a lot of questions right now, and one of them is: how did Tony Stark get my number?

It's a dumb question, because he's legitimately a tech legend, but I decided to ask it anyways. Another question would have been, why does he need me, but somehow that didn't seem as important.

Like he promised, I saw Happy pulling around with the car a few minutes later. Peter offered to come with, but I said no. He had to go to school. I, thankfully, had this opportunity to skip it.

I wasn't ready to go back, anyways.

"Hop in," Happy said, rolling down the car window, "Tony wants to make this quick."

I popped open the shotgun door, "for what?"

"He said not to tell you."

I frowned, "and why is that?"

Happy sighed, "he said not to tell you that either."

I furrowed my brow, shutting the door and crossing my arms. I didn't like surprises, as I've probably said before. The rest of the car ride was uneventful, because both of us had nothing to talk about.

As if it was hours away, we finally pulled in front of the giant glass tower. The giant glass tower where I should have been living. Climbing out of the car, I pushed my way inside the building and towards the elevators.

And.... that is where I decided I hated elevator music.

There was something so detrimentally nerve-wracking about being alone in an elevator while soft jazz plays in the background. Maybe it was just my pessimist outlook on life.

Once the elevator doors slid open, I came face to face with Tony, who was staring at me with his thick tinted glasses.

"Uhh....hey," I said, "how long have you been standing there?"

The man shrugged, "besides the point, it's for dramatic effect."

"Can you just cut to the chase?"

"Fine, if that makes you happy," he said, leading me into his giant workshop, "I need you to stand in there."

I looked up, coming face to face with a giant glass box. Inside the box was a single black chair, angled slightly to the right.

"Why," I said bluntly, "is this for some kind of study?"

"Of a sort."

"Of a sort?"

"Just, please," he said, pointing at the chair again, "sit down."

Everything I learned about bad decisions was screaming at me. But for some reason, I chose to ignore it this time. Maybe it was because I was with Tony, and I trusted him. Just a little bit, but still more than most.

Biting my lip, I walked into the glass cage, sitting down in the chair. Tony moved towards a workbench on the other side of the room, tapping on some holographic buttons quickly.

Then the glass doors shut. Then springs shot out of the chair, and wrapped my arms and legs to it. This moment was all too familiar, and it sent a wave of panic through my veins.

"What are you doing?" I blurted out, tugging at the binds, "Tony!"

He didn't say anything, but silently pulled out a small object wrapped in a dark cloth. I didn't have a good chance to see what it was, because I was too busy freaking out about being stuck in the glass cage.

Amidst all my resistance, the man just ignored it.

"So," he started, "you've met Peter?"

I tried to bite one of the buckles off with my teeth. No luck. Spitting it back out, I narrowed my eyes, "yes, I have."

"You two are getting along?"

"Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Just answer them."

"Fine," I frowned, "he's not so bad."

Tony tilted his head, "have you ever thought about killing him?"

What the hell?

There it was again. The whole killing thing. I never wanted to kill someone, and I especially didn't want to kill Peter. I didn't even want to hurt him. Stark's questions were pestering me down to the core, and I hated every second of it.

"No," I spat out, "never!"

"Not even for a second?"

"No!"

"Hm," Tony grunted, turning back to the object in his hands, "let's test something out."

Whenever I heard the word test, I knew it wasn't good. My whole entire life had become a test, and now that's what I was apparently going to go through now. Glass box, tied down, experimented on.

It was all too familiar.

I watched in horror as Stark removed the dark cloth, only to hold up a small red book in his hands. A red book, with a black star. Sputnik. All of the memories came flooding back into my head, and I couldn't control my fear.

"Tony!" I yelled, "please! Don't do this!"

He didn't listen, but instead ran his fingers against the edge of the book and flipped it open.

"Longing," he read out, occasionally turning to look back up at me, "rusted, seventeen..."

As if I was possessed, the hair on my arms raised, and I twisted my body over to the side in pain.

"Daybreak," Tony said, continuing to read.

I let my teeth flare, and began to wildly tug at the chair. It was like my blood was heating up, burning so hot I could feel it burning throughout my body.

He kept reading, "furnace..."

"STOP IT!" I lashed out, a sudden power rushing through me, "I SAID STOP!"

At that moment, the chains on my arms ripped off, then so did the ones of my legs. I was free from the chair. Running towards the glass, I began to hit my fist against it repeatedly.

Suddenly I saw fear flash across Tony's eyes, and he snapped the book closed.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, "I just needed to know."

Seeing the book close, I took a step back. My heart was pounding. To see that other side of me so visible, I was shocked. I had had a few episodes before, but none of them were that bad.

This one was really bad.

"Needed to know what?" I urged, "why the hell would you do that to me?"

Tony sighed, "I'm sorry."

"But why?"

"Because I needed to know if you were still..." he said, pausing a bit, "... under their control."

I slumped onto my knees, cradling my head in my hands.

"Look, kid," Tony continued, "I want to help you."

"You call that helping?"

"I just want to help you get to the point where those words don't mean anything."

"They will always mean something," I said, my voice cracking, "even if i'm not compliant, they will always hurt me."

Tony nodded his head, approaching the glass box and unlocking it. I stood onto my feet, brushing past him. I felt dizzy and sick.

"I'll need you back here tomorrow," he explained, "we;ll work on helping you find your tunnel vision."

"What's tunnel vision?"

"Something you focus on, that helps you block out the chant."

"Does it work?"

He nodded his head, staring at the ground. I could tell he felt bad about locking me in the cage, and I softened a little. We might have tolerated each other, but it was still rough considering what happened with his parents.

"Yeah," he finally said, "if you find the right thing."