Title: A Very Demanding Hostage

Author: Eiseedoesit

Genre: Humor

Rated: G

Summary: How demanding can a seven year old be? Peter's kidnappers are about to find out. Superfamily; Mentions of Steve/Tony

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. The characters are owned by Marvel. This was all done out of fun.

A/N: I know this is out of character for a seven year old. It's all just for fun :) And if you think about it, Peter may have picked up the snarky trollish come-backs from dear Dad lolz. Also written very quickly without a beta, so I apologize for the mistakes.

There is a certain gratification that comes with victory. Kidnapping the son of Captain America and Ironman definitely counted as one of those victories. Or at least, that's what the henchmen of a certain Dr. Doom tried to convince themselves while keeping guard over poor, little, frightened, seven year old Peter Parker.

The mission was simple. Distract the Avengers. Take the brat. Hold for ransom. Easy as frickin' pie. Or at least, that's how they imagined it would be. Right now they weren't so sure.

"It's way too cold up here." Peter whined. He shook the bars of his cage, a cage fortified with titanium and iridium swinging forty feet above a raging river. His little hands kept shaking the bars, tears of frustration seeping out of his eyes.

"Tears will do you no good," One of the guards warned through his mask, gun strapped to his back, "Soon the world will know the terrible power of the great Dr-."

"Just let me out!" Peter completely ignored the guard and started thrashing against the cage, screaming and crying so loudly his captors wondered if that was some freaky superpower the kid had. No one that tiny could possibly be so ear-splittingly loud.

"Let me out. Let me out. Let me out!"

"Never. Now shut up or we'll sew your mouth shut. Maybe even rip your tongue off and send it to your Dads—"

"Let me out. Please!" Peter wailed, stomping his feet against the bars.

"Kid just shut up or I swear you're gonna—"

"Let me out. Please. Please," Peter was sobbing now, his face red and puffy. He was struggling for breath between his cries. "I—I can't take it anymore. Please. I—I'm just so bored."


The little seven year old suddenly stopped crying. He looked down at the guards, his eyes wide. He shook his head, more out of pity for them rather than himself.

"I'm bored. That's what I said." Peter clarified, sniffling, "I mean, when Loki kidnapped me at least he took me to a different planet. And he didn't use a cage. You know how many bad guys locked me in a cage? He probably got bored of it too or wanted to be different, but when he kidnapped me he used a spell. Uncle Thor's friends had to help find me. Loki must have worked really hard because I was missing for days! But at least I wasn't bored. I saw all sorts of weird things! Even the guards were weird! They were tons more fun than you guys. They had swords, spears, and giant axes, some even had magic. You just have cheap masks and guns. Are your guns made by Hammer? But then again that doesn't make a lot of sense cause I thought Dr. Doom was supposed to be like…I don't know, a real threat or something. Did he run out of funds? Maybe Aunt Pepper could help him budget."

"These are not cheap," One of the guards said, his eye twitching violently behind his so-called cheap mask.

"Looks cheap," Peter replied, shrugging his shoulders, "I hope Daddy gets here soon. His mask is actually made of real iron, you know, something that can actually protect him when he fights. That stuff you have looks like nylon. No wonder bad guys like you keep getting beat up."

"Oh God," One of the guards groaned, "Just shut up."

"God?" Peter's face lit up, "I know a whole bunch but Uncle Thor's my favorite! I kinda hope he doesn't show up this time though cause he doesn't like it when people lock me in a cage and swing me over rivers. He's gonna be so mad."

The guards took a second to glance at the sky, suddenly paranoid of the dark clouds gathering overheard.

"You know one time he rescued me and all he had to do was call down lightning? It was like…zzzzaaaappp! And down went the drones." Peter smiled. It was one of the more exciting rescues.

Over the distance a boom of thunder jolted Peter's would be captors, the kidnappers cursing and fumbling their firearms like poorly trained amateurs.

"Oh no, don't worry. That's not my Uncle Thor. You're good." Peter said. His voice sounded like he was genuinely trying to console their fears, but his devilish smile was anything but comforting. "For now at least."

"And how are you so sure?" A henchman demanded.

"Cause if it was really Uncle Thor a lightning bolt would've gone straight through you." Peter said matter of factly, "Either that or Mjolnir. He uses it to fly. I wonder what's taking them all so long…"

"Still think they're coming to get you kid? Sheesh, if I were them I'd just let whoever kidnapped you keep you. Do you ever shut your damn mouth?"

"Um…Pops said not to use bad words!" Peter said, a scowl on his face, "And they're not coming just for me. They're coming for all of you too. They're gonna lock you up like you locked me up. But you guys will be lucky cause it won't this cold! I'm freezing!"

"Deal with it kid."

"Get used to it. No one's gonna get you for a long while. Not after the Boss released his army of AI tanks on New York. Looks like Captain America and Ironman will be too busy to deal with you."

"If my Dads can't get to me then my godfather can." Peter said, not at all fazzed by the prospect of AIs and tanks, "Uncle Thor can get scary when he's mad. But if Uncle Bruce gets here first then you'll really have to run!"

"Not if we shot him down."

"You can try," Peter said, "But it's just gonna make him even more angry. You don't want to see him when he's angry."

"And what if we told you that your godfather is otherwise occupied with a collapsing building?"

"Then I'll tell you to try harder if you want to keep him away from me," Peter replied, as cool as a child possibly can in his crazy situation, "And I'd also tell you that even if he doesn't get here right away then Uncle Clint will. Or maybe even Aunt Nat. And I'm gonna tell her everything. Everything!

The guards shifted uncomfortably at their stations. Peter however, was almost misty eyed from the memories of his favorite Aunt.

"She's gonna get annoyed again if I start lying. No one can lie to her and get away with it. So I won't even try. I'll tell her how you locked me up in this cage, left me all high and cold above a river with no food, water, or anything at all. She loves me a lot. She told me so and she doesn't say that kind of mushy stuff often, but she said it to me. She said if anyone ever harmed a hair on my head she'd scalp them. I dunno what that is but it sounds painful. Uncle Clint's a lot nicer though. The worse he'll do is use you all for target practice. But don't be afraid! He's got very good aim."

"Better than the Boss with a death-ray aiming for New York?"

"If Uncle Clint wanted to destroy New York he wouldn't even need a death-ray." Peter said thoughtfully, "He'd just need like…a really, really high place to aim from. He's probably got an arrow for that. He's got an arrow for everything!"

"Alright. This has gone far enough!" One of the guards threw a rock at Peter's cage, nearly hitting the child's arm. "Just try to shut up you little brat or I'll drop you in the river with a bag of gravel tied to your legs."

"Then why don't you?" Peter asked, his head tilted to the side in mock confusion.

The guards were practically screaming from the child's insolence.

"Loud-mouth brat! I'm gonna—"

"But I wasn't being a brat," Peter protested, "But I can be. Wanna see?"

The tiny child proceeded to throw a temper tantrum to rival any defeated villain's. He'd seen a lot of them so he was well-versed in with the screaming, whining, and crying. He actually found it rather fun.

"It's too cold! I'm hungry! The cage is swinging too much! I need to go to the bathroom! I need new clothes! This place is ugly! Your masks are cheap! Your everything is cheap! I miss my Dads, Uncles, and Aunts! I miss JARVIS! I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I wanna go home!"

And unfortunately for the guards, poor, little, frightened, helpless, seven year old Peter was a very demanding hostage. And even worse, he was just getting started.

The End

A/N: Oh Peter can be such an annoying troll at times hehehe ;) My first time writing for this fandom so let me know what you think, I appreciate it! :)