Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Gee, I wish I believed you.”

“Believe what you want Ross, doesn’t change the truth.” Tony said in an unamused but light tone.

Secretary Ross on the other hand was firm, “No, it does not.”

Tony frowned as Ross left the room. Since the breakout of the raft, Ross had suspected that Tony was able to somehow contact Captain America or the other outlaw Avengers, that he just didn't want to give it up. Ross was right; Steve had given Tony a dated flip phone to contact him with if Tony had ever deemed it necessary to do so.

Of course, he would never tell Ross that.

The Iron Man had seen the way the government had treated his former friends—no, former family when they'd been imprisoned. But, coming out of hiding (or being found) would force them to either sign the Accords or go back to the Raft; no matter how much he wished they would all just suck it up, agree with him, and sign the accords, he knew they wouldn't. Nevertheless, he'd do anything to keep them from being shipped off back to the Raft.

Ross would not stop pressing, though. Quite constantly actually he would try to subtly interrogate Tony. And Tony would quite constantly deny everything. It had been four months since Captain Rodgers had busted the incarcerated Avengers out of prison. But Ross would not let up.

“Boss, you have lunch with Benjamin Bohr in 10 minutes,” his A.I. Friday said over speakers.

“Right. Crap.”

Benjamin Bohr was what Friday would call Peter Parker when Tony was at the compound. He didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing or him having been with company and someone getting suspicious. Or there was always the chance Ross had parts of the compound tapped.

His suite and lab were the only places he could be positive none of those instances would occur. But he wasn’t in either of those places; he was in a conference room. The alias was just precaution.

Occasionally, Peter would attend one of Tony’s events inconspicuously or Tony would be spotted having lunch with his intern. But that’s all he made sure people thought of Peter: he was some intern. He didn’t want any attention drawn to it, especially with all the government officials bustling throughout the compound.

Because, in the end, Spider-Man was a vigilante. He was outside the law.

*

Benjamin was Peter’s middle name. The ‘Bohr’ came from the one and only Niels Bohr, who Peter had before expressed was his favorite physicist.

“You are the only kid I know that has a favorite physicist.”

“You don’t know any kids, Mr. Stark,” Peter had accurately guessed as they walked down the main hall of the compound.

“No, but if I did you’d be the only one. Or at least the only one that could and would talk about him for 10 minutes straight," Tony slowed down and turned to the kid, starting, "No, actually, I'm offended: Here I am, the greatest scientist alive— and you're ranting about a guy whose biggest accomplishment was an over-hyped disproved model of the most basic, uninteresting—"

A wide grin spread across the teen's face. "What?" questioned Tony.

Then Peter shrugged and turned away to continue walking, "I like him!"

Tony smiled at the memory.

He pulled out his phone to call and reschedule with his protégé.

Cheerfully, the web-slinger’s voice answered, “Mr. Stark! I’ll be there soon! Sorry, I was running behind. I just wanted to finish up some homework before—”

Tony interrupted, “Actually, I had some business to attend to. I’m still upstate. Can we push it an hour?”

Friday chimed in over the speakers in the conference room, “Boss, you have a meeting with Ms. Potts at 3.”

It had currently been 1:30, so an hour wouldn’t work. “Okay, not an hour. Uh, how about dinner?”

Once again, “Boss, you've got—”

“Don’t say whatever you’re going to say, Fri.”

Tony was stressed. He hadn’t gotten a break all day. And Peter had a strange way of making Tony significantly less stressed.

Unless he was parading around Queens as Spider-Man. Then, he’d likely be significantly more stressed.

Ever since the Vulture incident he’d been trying to spend more time with Peter, keep an eye on him. Keep him out of trouble and keep updated with all the web-head’s outings. Happy and him both did. The more time Tony spent with the kid though, the more he seemed to really enjoy the time spent. Peter was witty and smart, lively and jovial, good-natured and warmhearted. Really a good kid. Nowadays they'd sometimes spend the day in Tony's lab helping the billionaire on updates to their suits, they'd grab a bite to eat after some mission, or, if his aunt was working late, the kid would even do his homework at the compound after school. Tony would even help him sometimes.

And Tony often found his worries diminish in the kid’s company. So, whatever task he had to do at dinner could be pushed until tomorrow.

Peter disrupted his thoughts, “Mr. Stark, it’s totally okay if you can’t meet up today."

“No, no,” Tony answered a bit faster that he had intended, “Burgers? I feel like burgers.”

“Sure!”

“Wendy’s?”

Every time Tony had invited him somewhere to eat it was some place relatively fancy. Peter was taken aback a bit, “Wendy’s?”

“Yeah, their burgers are good.” Tony responded listlessly.

“Sure, Wendy’s then.”

“Great.” With that, Tony hung up.

***

7:00

Tony 7:00: I’m outside. Hurry up, I'm hungry.

Peter 7:01: Out n a minute

He was out in six. Peter rushed down the apartment building’s steps. Tony leaned against the car and waved to May who was standing in the doorway of the building. Peter loudly shouted as he turned back, “Love you, May!” Tony gestured to Peter to hurry up into the passenger's while he slipped around to the front after giving one last amicable smile to May.

He drove away while Peter started about how his day had been.

A black truck trailed behind.

Peter slowly got quieter and quieter when talking about his day as they drove. Almost like he had lost the desire to talk about it.

“Everything okay, Pete?” Tony's worry showed only slightly .

“Uh… yeah, —er ... It’s just—you know my spidey-sense?”

“Spidey-sense? Is that what you’re calling it now?” Tony laughed. He noticed how Peter remained quiet still and pushed, “Okay, so is there some, uh, danger, or something?”

“Well, I…don’t know. It’s weird. I don’t know. Forget it.” Peter faked a smile. He wasn’t sure if his mentor bought it. One way or another, Tony dropped the subject.

They’d arrived at Wendy’s, waited a bit until it was relatively empty and went inside for less chance of Tony being recognized. Luckily he wasn't by the guy at the register (a late-teens kid with hair that Tony later noted to Peter was "obnoxiously long", trying to get a rise).

But Peter was just off. He had pressed again for Peter to elaborate on what was wrong, but he hardly acknowledged Tony and quickly turned his attention back to struggling to sip his frosty through a straw (no matter how many times Tony cracked up at him saying it would be so much easier to use a spoon). Still, all night Peter wasn't able to shake the sickening feeling he had, yet couldn’t even tell what it was, giving him a weird feeling of frustration and fear.

***

The dark Chevrolet was two buildings over in a Pizza Hut parking lot. A man and a woman sat inside. The woman had long dark hair, was dressed in black and kept a stern visage. She sat straight up in the driver’s seat and held a pair of binoculars to her eyes— straight out of a cheesy spy movie.

The woman stared attentively through them, so as not to miss anything the billionaire and teenager in her sights did. They looked so normal, she noted, laughing and chatting, they looked like a random father and son. She knew it wasn't normal though: this was Tony Stark, billionaire tech mogul who she had been assigned to follow.

Still, she was observant; she could tell something wasn't normal about the kid, too.

The man in shotgun next to her looked slightly friendlier--not so many frown lines-- but just as tense. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Well, what’s he doing, Sanders?” The voice was harsh.

“He’s just with his intern at a Wendy’s, Mr. Secretary.”

“Intern?”

"Yes, Peter Parker, sir.”

“You’re telling me the one and only Tony Stark canceled a meeting and drove all the way down to Queens to visit an intern? No, there’s got to be more to it. Keep on him," the man paused, considering, "Actually…split up. Trail the intern, too.”

“Yes, sir.” Secretary Ross hung up.

The woman looked back at the man sitting by her. She’d been quiet enough to hear the whole conversation even though it hadn’t been on speaker. She spoke decisively: “I’ll take the kid.”

***

Little did Tony Stark know that in just a few short hours everything he’d been trying so hard to protect would all go to shit.

Chapter Text

“How’s it looking?” The agent sounded tired over the phone.

“I followed him back to his and his aunt’s apartment.”

“And? What’s he doing?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” It was true, she'd been there for over an hour. Nothing had happened.

“You’re staying there all night?”

“That’s what I told Ross, yes.”

“Well, then have fun with that. Stark just went back to the compound. I don’t have access inside this time of night. I’m heading back to HQ. ‘Night.”

“Good night, Sanders.” She hung up her phone and looked back up to the window of the room Tony Stark’s intern was currently in. She glanced at the clock above her car radio; it read 10:08. She was in the parking lot across the road from the kid’s building. The blinds on his window were down but the lights were on, so she could only make out a figure moving. Still, she had to stay there, just watching.

*

The agent was recognizably tense, but her rigidness was broken by the sudden blare of a fire truck around midnight. The truck rushed out of the fire station just down the street and took a sharp turn left, moving hastily down the road between the parking lot she was situated in and the apartment building she was assigned to keep an eye on.

The woman saw as the boy jerked the blinds up and then the window pane, he looked quickly down the street where the firetruck had been heading and ducked back inside within the next second. She followed where his eye line had been and took notice of the orange and yellow light of an ardent fire two blocks over. An apartment building was beginning to burn in large and wild flames, getting discernably worse by the second

As she turned her attention back to the teenager, she saw him rushing across the room once or twice, saw a woman walk in who she deduced was May Parker, then saw a large red figure pass quickly by the window.

She scrambled for her binoculars.

The supposed intern then crawled out the window and along the side of the building in a red and blue skintight suit scurrying in the direction of the blazing fire.

She snickered, “ ‘Intern’ my ass.”

Recognizing the hero as Spider-Man, the woman grabbed her phone from where it sat in the cup holder, pressed a few buttons and put it up to her ear:

“Secretary Ross,”

He replied, “It’s past midnight, Dearden; this better be good."

“Oh,” grinning now, “it is sir.”

*

“Peter. Peter, don’t.” May had rushed in when she heard the fire truck and saw Peter beginning to change into his suit, “Come on, please let the authorities handle this one.”

“It’ll be quick, May.”

“How’s your suit supposed to protect you from a burning building falling on you?”

“It’s flame retardant.”

May just looked at him.

“Well, probably?” Peter paused for a moment, “Okay, I don’t really know, but there are people in there. I know some of them. I have to help. I’m sorry, May.” And he was out the window.

May sighed, defeated. She never wanted Peter to go on missions or fight crime. She preferred him to be sitting at home with her, safe. Still, this was something he had never fought against before. Something he couldn’t punch or kick. Something that was probably more likely to get him killed. Especially since she knew her nephew would stay in there until every last person was out-- or he would die trying.

She ran to the kitchen to grab her phone and quickly scrolled through her contacts for the name ‘Stark’"; she called.

The billionaire answered quickly, "May? You’re calling late. Is something wrong? Is Peter okay?"

“Well, yes. Right now, I guess. He just went out as Spider-Man. There’s a fire a couple of blocks down. I mean, there’s already firemen there, and well it’s just it’s…he’s never…” May was starting to tear up; maybe it was a bit inane, but her nephew would constantly risk his life and, being the only family she had left, it was pretty often a hefty strain on her disposition.

“I’m on my way.”

“Thank you, Tony”

“Of course.” Tony hung up the phone and subsequently sprinted to his suit.

***

Manhattan

The Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross was not regarded as a kind man. He didn’t see himself that way, either. “Nice is overrated”, as he would say. Many credited it toward the fact that Ross was the type of man that had always seen things in black and white, there wasn't middle ground or special exceptions to him.

So when he found out that the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was none other than Peter Parker, the kid’s good-intentions, age, and innocence did not come into play; Claiming he was protecting the people of Queens from a (potentially) dangerous enhanced individual, Ross hadn't hesitated to order an arrest warrant.

Of course, that could be followed quickly by Peter simply signing the Accords or a contract similar to it. Instead, Ross opted for a harsher (be it unfair and spiteful) way of dealing with the vigilante.

The truth was, Ross didn’t just find out the identity of Spider-Man, he found out Spider-Man was under the wing of the one and only Tony Stark. He found leverage.

*

The warrant was promptly approved and Ross prepared a team:

They were a team of ten skilled agents decked out in weapons and protective padding. They wore Tasers strapped around one thigh and pistols on the other. Grenades and smoke bombs lined their shoulders or waists and other random weapons were Velcroed on their chests or arms. Everything they wore or carried was black. A relatively scary group.

The men loaded into two armored trucks and they all, including Secretary Ross, were on their way to Queens.

***

Peter hadn’t even been in the burning building a minute before he got a call.

Karen’s voice rang through his suit, “Tony Stark is calling, Peter”

“Don’t answer!”

She did anyway. “Dammit, Karen,” Peter mumbled.

“Peter, are you a firefighter?” Tony started sarcastically.

“No, Mr. Stark.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Then what exactly could be your reason for being in a flaming building? Because I could swear we’ve talked about-- ”

“You know Mr. Stark, I’m sort of busy. ”

“Busy getting your goddamn ass out of—”

“Karen, end call,” Peter said before rushing to a screaming woman’s voice he heard a floor above his current position.

And Tony was hung up on once again. At least this time Peter wasn't feeding him some dumb lie like "band practice".

Tony mumbled curses under his breath. If the fire didn’t kill Peter, he would (metaphorically, of course)

*

Peter knew Tony would already have been on his way after he got the call from him. Besides, he was a bit too busy to keep up with one of his mentor's harangues at the moment. He set a timer in his head for about ten minutes, a liberal estimation of how long it would take to get from upstate New York to central Queens in the Iron Man suit. In the meantime, Peter continued to help the people in the building.

Usually, Peter would be frustrated with his enhanced hearing, never able to get some peace or quiet (especially since his home was the very loud city of New York), but he’d never been so grateful for it before being in that building. When a person yelled for help, Peter would be able to find them, carry them out the nearest window, down the wall of the building, then repeat with the next person.

Though, at the moment, he wasn’t a big fan of his enhanced sense of touch. It was hot—really hot. His suit had some coolers installed in it to help against the extreme heat but they could only do so much. After a few too many minutes he was feeling light-headed. Still, he pressed on.

The Spider-Man was dodging falling pillars, leaping over large gaps in the floor where the wood had given out, and knocking doors down to reach people inside rooms with walls already engulfed in flames.

He saved person after person, never taking a break. The firemen assisted Spidey in getting people out and they'd worked together to save two or three people as well. The firemen trusted the young vigilante-- most people did.

About ten minutes had gone by, and on his own Peter had saved almost a dozen people.

Peter was surprised Iron Man hadn’t arrived yet; he was really hoping he would have. From what he could hear, there were at least five or so people still in the higher levels of the apartment building. He prayed his mentor would show up soon because at this point the heat was starting to really get to him.

He'd asked Karen what the temperature had been and she told him he didn't want to know. Shit. He began to feel himself slow down. He felt exhausted. He got light headed at first, but a few more minutes passed and his head started throbbing. His reaction time got markedly worse and his strength deteriorated (probably a difference between life and death in his current situation).

Spider-Man's sight and hearing weren't doing well anymore either. Everything had already been very bright, aggravating his sense of sight, but with the developing headache, his vision began to blur. Just as bright, only blurry now. Great. Because of his exhaustion and throbbing head, his hearing soon became muddled; he couldn't figure out where people were anymore.

If that wasn't enough, the lack of oxygen and the more and more smoke getting through his mask was forcing horrid coughs from the young hero's lungs.

At one point, Spidey just couldn’t stand to continue no matter how much he tried; His senses were all too overwhelming and it was hot. He knew he had to slow down or he might just collapse where he stood. Then he’d really be screwed.

He took a quick respite against a wall in a concrete stairwell that unlike most areas hadn’t been engulfed in flames yet. Almost the next second he felt a metal gauntlet on his shoulder. He hadn't even looked up before he felt knees buckle and his legs go limp.

The instant Iron Man saw the boy falter he grabbed him under the arms and rushed him down two flights of stairs and out the building. He set him on a bench across the street when they got outside. Peter was breathing rapidly and coughing harshly. Tony kneeled too look at him, ignoring the chaos surrounding them.

“Friday,” he said to the AI in his suit, “what’s going on with him?”

“Looks like heat exhaustion, Boss. The cooler in his suit is on; he should get better soon. He appears to have inhaled a mild amount of smoke, as well. I recommend he roll his mask up to get more fresh air.”

Tony's gauntlets folded backward to uncover his hands. Tony pulled up the mask over Spider-Man's mouth and nose then rested his hands on the boy's shoulders. Almost instantly the kid's coughing had diminished. Tony was relieved, but Friday had shown him Peter's vitals-- they weren't looking great. Peter was heaving in breaths, his heartbeat was strikingly high, and the boy's temperature was 101.

Tony assured Peter anyway, "You’re going to be fine, kid. Just stay calm." The Iron Man drew back the armor around his head. He continued trying to calm down the young hero.

"Hey, kiddo, you have to try to slow your breathing." He knew at this point Peter's shock was doing the worst of the damage; it reminded Tony of how young the kid really was. "Listen to my breathing. Try to copy it, Peter." Tony began exaggerating his breaths.

Pepper had used the trick occasionally when Tony woke up from his nightmares breathing too quickly. It worked quickly on himself and apparently on Peter too, who within twenty or so seconds had rapidly slowed his breathing and calmed down.

Except, as much as Tony wished he could stay by Peter's side until the young hero was doing better, he knew people he had to help were still in the flaming building.

Tony sighed, "Okay Pete, I'll be back in a few minutes." Peter looked up at him, shyly. Tony really didn't want to leave.

"Sit tight, alright?"

With that, the Iron Man stood up, gauntlets folding back over his hands and his suit took off to the top of the building to access the higher floors through the roof.

*

Peter wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there before his head started to clear up. The lights from the fire and the firetrucks and ambulances were frustratingly bright to him. The sounds of the scene were garbled but loud around him.

As his head cleared more, however, he could make out the Iron Man emerging from the flaming building carrying an unconscious woman in his arms.

The man set the woman down on a nearby gurney, watched her get wheeled away by paramedics then immediately turned his attention toward Peter.

Soon enough, Tony was once again by his side. Peter looked down at the concrete below him, already imagining the lecture he knew he was going to get, as his mentor stood looking down at him.

Tony huffed. Then he spoke, “Everyone’s out…Are you hurt?” He sounded in part concerned and part sick of asking Peter that question so many times. Especially when he flat out disobeys him.

Peter shook his head no.

The Iron Man remained unconvinced. Peter lied about that kind of stuff all the time, constantly hiding his injuries. At this point, Tony learned not to simply take Peter's word for it.

“Friday?”

Peter rolled his eyes. Friday reiterated, “He’s not injured, Boss.”

Tony huffed once again (Peter hated that).

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark.” The statement came across sounding annoyed and maybe bitter. Peter wished it hadn’t come across that way because he was actually very grateful, even if Tony could be patronizing at times.

Either way, Tony easily heard the apparent attitude in Peter's voice and began the tirade, “Don’t give me that!” Tony raised his voice in indignation, “May called me almost in tears worrying that you and your stubbornness was going to get you killed. And you probably would have been if she hadn’t called me!

"What were you thinking? Honestly, Peter! And I swear to God if you keep hanging up on me like that--”

Tony cut himself off and tried calming down after he remembered he was talking to a kid that was still suffering from heat exhaustion. Trying to drive the point home, he started again, “I told you you should’ve gotten the hell out of that building.”

Finally looking up at him, Peter stopped him there, “But I shouldn’t have! I saved people, Mr. Stark!”

The slight yelling on Peter's part induced a rather extended cough. Tony's face noticeably softened at the kid attempting to catch his breath and clutching at his chest pointlessly.

A few moments passed. Tony sighed, “Okay, come on," he gestured a 'get up' movement with his arm, "I’m taking you home.”

*

Tony watched as Peter pushed up ceiling tile after ceiling tile in an abandoned office building.

“You might want to mark which one next time, Pete.”

Peter had stashed a change of clothes over one of the tiles weeks earlier just in case he needed them for any reason. He'd done the same in a few places around Queens. For this instance, Tony didn’t want Peter spending his limited energy swinging from building to building to get to his apartment in his suit. Especially since Tony wouldn’t be able to follow behind him in an eye-drawing Iron Man suit to make sure he was okay.

Instead, Tony sent his suit away, and it flew autopilot to a checkpoint in Brooklyn. He walked Peter to the nearby office building making sure no one saw them enter it. And Peter began searching for the clothes.

“Noted, thanks," Peter said sarcastically. A few moments later, "Found them!”

Peter changed into jeans and a t-shirt that read, "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the precipitate", earning a small chuckle from Tony.

Tony used the hoodie inside the bag of clothing for himself as to draw less attention to the Tom Ford vest and pants he wore. Attempting to hide the crumpled, ashy, and sweaty Spider-Man suit, he wrapped it up with his own suit jacket.

“This a $3,000 blazer,” the billionaire griped, “you know the kind of dry-cleaning this is gonna need?”

Peter snickered a bit even though he knew Tony wasn't kidding. They sneaked out the back of the building and began the walk to Peter and his aunt’s apartment a few blocks away. The moment Peter stepped into the apartment he met eyes with May.

“Peter, you’re okay!” she said with relief while she pulled him into a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Peter mumbled as he melted into the embrace.

But May quickly pulled out of the hug after a few seconds, the mood suddenly changing. “What the hell were you thinking?” She smacked him upside the head with a mild strength to it, not enough to actually hurt.

Tony smirked at Peter’s shocked face. Annoyed, Peter scrunched his nose back at the man. Peter didn’t say anything back to May, so Tony took it upon himself to continue his previous lecture, “He wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly,” May established.

They were already ganging up on Peter, this night was not going to get better for him.

*

Almost ten minutes later and Tony kept harassing Peter about ‘how dumb he had to be to do something like that’. Peter sat on the couch while Tony stood, giving frustrated looks down at him.

After a few minutes of pleading to deaf ears, May had already admitted defeat and began cooking some food for them all. Tony on the other had only got more aggravated and louder at the kid’s unresponsiveness. He berated him for a while before Peter began arguing back:

“What? Was I supposed to let those people die?”

“You were supposed to leave it to the goddamn firefighters! What do you think their job is?” Tony questioned rhetorically.

“We both know they couldn’t have saved everybody!” Peter argued.

“So your first thought is, ‘Hey! Here’s another chance to get myself killed!’” Tony imitated a bit of a higher voice to mimic Peter, prompting an eye roll from the young hero.

“Yeah, Mr. Stark!” Peter stood up and snapped back sarcastically, “That was my thought process!”

Seeing the escalation, May stepped in again. “Okay, okay, that’s enough.” She motioned for Peter to sit back down and pulled Tony away and towards the kitchen. After she’d done so, a loud bang came from the front door.

Peter looked up instantly and they were all quiet and still for a few seconds.

The bang came again but this time the door flew open. Peter stood up and Tony almost sprinted around the corner to see what was going on.

Large men in heavy gear filtered through the door. One had been holding but quickly dropped a battering ram-- the source of the banging. Before Tony had time to react two of the men grabbed him, each holding him by an arm and pushing him back in the direction he came. Tony fought against their force in vain.

Peter yelled at them, “Hey!” He surged forward toward the men to try to get to his mentor. “Let him go!”

It did no good. One of the other men grabbed Peter. He saw one agent clutch his aunt’s upper arm; Peter jerked away from the one man’s grip instinctively and punched him hard to get to his aunt. But more and more agents began to hurl toward Peter. On really any other day, Peter likely would've been able to beat the skilled agents. But, the teen had been impressively weaker coming out of that burning building and he definitely had not gained all his strength back. They pushed him back all the way into the far wall, pinning his arms.

“Peter!” Tony yelled as he continued to struggle against the two large men keeping him back.

Shit, Tony thought, They're after Peter. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Peter knew they were after him too, and he felt his heart rate pick up for the second time that night. Then Peter saw a tall, well-dressed man with uncaring eyes that he didn't recognize standing in the doorway. When the man came around the corner, Tony had eyes on him. Peter saw his mentor go visibly stiff.

Peter's eyes shifted back and forth between the two men, noticing the hostility between them. Still struggling against the men restraining him to the wall, Peter watched as Tony suddenly jerked forward at the unflinching man.

“Let him go, Ross! Let him the fuck go!” But the men holding his mentor back reacted to the jerk with force. One kneed him in the stomach.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted. He watched as Tony folded over in pain. Peter then turned his attention back to May. The man holding her back placed a piece of cloth over her nose and mouth. The cloth, he assumed, was soaked in some type of hypnotic. Peter struggled harder and harder to try to get to her but could only witness while his aunt slowly lost consciousness.

Peter fought and fought but it was all in vain. Peter couldn’t do anything. He didn’t have all his strength and these men were strong. They were all trained and there were at least five holding him back.

Peter could hear Tony struggling and yelling his name and shouting with anger at whoever this 'Ross' person was. He heard a thud as his unconscious aunt hit the floor. And he couldn't do anything. He'd never felt so powerless in his life.

Then, Peter felt a prick little bit under his ear. He instantly began feeling tired.

Tony saw the syringe being pushed into the kid’s neck. The man knew Ross was here because of him: found out who Peter was because of him, was taking Peter because of his belligerence toward him. Peter was in this situation because of him.

The memory of the last time Tony'd felt so angry replayed in his head.

"Did you know?"

"I didn't know it was him"

"Don't bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?

"Yes."

In a final burst of rage, Tony jerked one arm free. Luckily, Secretary Ross was just close enough for the superhero to lay a clean punch across his jawline.

The man Tony pushed off grabbed him again, pulling him back. Angered, Ross shouted to the other agents without taking his eyes off Tony, “Get the kid out of here already!” One agent slapped thick, armored handcuffs on the weakened Spider-Man.

"Ross! You fucking lay a hand on him--"

The men pinned the billionaire against the wall. They purposefully knocked the man’s head against it, hard enough to effectively knock out the Iron Man. Tony fell to the floor.

Peter, being better able to fight off drugs than most, witnessed the whole ordeal as two men took him by each arm and practically dragged him out of the room. But a few seconds later and he couldn’t keep consciousness any longer.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

When the Iron Man came to, he was lying on his side against a wall on the Parker’s hardwood floor. He slowly rolled his head, which was pounding, to see May lying on the kitchen floor, motionless. She almost looked dead.

Tony went stiff, eyes wide.

A second later, fear was replaced with anger when a gruff voice remarked calmly, “She’s alive...” Tony quickly sat right up against the wall and looked to see Ross reclined comfortably on the Parker’s sofa. Two agents were standing rigidly on either side of the secretary.

Ross continued, “...in case you were wondering.” He explained, “She’s just drugged. She’ll be fine, should be awake soon enough. By the way, if you're planning on calling one of your suits, remember that we already have Mr. Parker in our custody. And I'll tell you ahead of time: don't push his luck."

“Where the hell is he?” fumed Tony, his jaw tight.

“He’ll be at the raft by now. You were out for quite a while.”

If the two large agents weren’t there, Tony would walk over, grab him by the collar and pummel the son of a bitch. Nonetheless, he was outnumbered, and he knew first-hand the strength of those agents. Tony tried pushing himself off the floor but instead, triggered by the effort, he grabbed his side in pain.

Shit, his side hurt. He guessed it was from the agent who earlier had kneed him in the stomach. It was either severely bruised, or he had a broken rib. With his luck, Tony figured the latter.

But Tony’s mind didn’t stay on his own pain for long. He looked daggers back at the man that was causing all this. “He’s a child!” vented Tony.

“He’s dangerous, Stark. He’s a vigilante— an enhanced vigilante.” Ross sat up, staring back at Tony room across the room. He noted, “Enhanced individuals need to be put in check. That’s what you signed on for, Stark.”

“I didn’t sign on for imprisoning a child! He’s done nothing wrong—”

“Really? Last time I checked splitting the Staten Island Ferry in half counts as ‘doing something wrong’. People could have died.” Ross paused, then leaned back again against the sofa.

“The fact of the matter is, Stark, I can arrest him. I can put him in prison… Or— if I wanted to— I could get him pardoned.”

Tony quipped, “Blackmail,” he shook his head, huffing and wearing a humorless smile, “That’s what this is.”

“Not blackmail— that is illegal. No, I’m making you a deal.” Ross leaned forward again while straightening his suit jacket. He continued, “It’s like a thief turning in his accomplice to get a shorter sentence. You get me the other Avengers, I get Mr. Parker pardoned-- out of the raft.”

“I do not know where they are, Ross!” It wasn’t a lie. Of course, Tony could find out if he wanted to.

Except, it didn’t matter anymore.

It didn’t matter if he kept up the lie. Ross had gotten the better of him. Ross had the upper-hand this time.

The secretary countered Tony, “We both know I don’t believe you.”

Ross continued with more of a pleading tone, “The Spider-Man would be released, Stark. He’d sign the Accords— Hell, I’d draw up a new contract just for the kid! Things would be normal for him. He could come back to this lovely home of his. His aunt would have her nephew back.”

Ross stood up and straightened his blazer again, looking down a Tony. He began again with a more absolute and forward tone, “Or, I suppose, there’s always the possibility you are telling the truth. Maybe you do have no idea where they are with no idea how to contact them. In which case, Peter would remain at the raft for an… indefinite amount of time. Most likely lose years of his life and then some. Lose his childhood, lose his friends, his aunt—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tony interjected. Despite the pain, he forced himself off the floor, all the while staring Ross dead in the eyes. He took a few steps forward. Without hesitation, the agents grabbed him by each arm to keep him at a distance from the secretary.

Tony seethed, “He’s a fucking kid, Ross.”

Secretary Ross seemed to ignore his comment. “You know, you should’ve seen the cell we had set up for Captain Rogers. No windows. Thick walls.” Ross tucked his hands in his pockets, standing erect.

“I guess that room is for Peter now.” Ross teased. “I’m certain he will need to be collared, as well… just in case.” Tony forced his body forward, against the will of the agents, dying to lay another punch across Ross’s jaw. The other’s face already held a nasty-looking bruise from the last blow Tony had given him, already purple and pale green in places. Ross stood tall, gesturing with one hand while the other rested in his suit jacket, as he continued monotonously, “He’d be drugged 24/7. Probably restrained too: Straitjackets, cuffs, the whole nine yards. No visitors. No calls home. As the years pass." Ross kept pushing, "There’s a whole new set of laws for mutants!”

Tony and Secretary Ross just glared at each other for a few moments.

Though, Tony found it hard to keep an unflinching expression. His mind kept reverting to an image of the innocent, good-hearted, lively Peter Parker subjected to such cruel conditions. All to get to Tony.

He kept thinking about how Peter was at the Raft already. He could’ve been drugged and restrained already. How the kid must have been terrified. How it was Tony’s fault. How none of that shit would have been happening if not for the kid’s relation to Tony.

Ross interrupted his disquieting thoughts, “I want the others, Stark. They all either sign the Accords or go to the Raft, that’s of no concern to me. But enhanced individuals will be kept in check. Think of me as a monster all you want, but the Avengers— and Spider-man— are dangerous. I won’t let this game of hide-and-seek keep going.”

Ross started out the door, repeating a single phrase and leaving it to linger in the room, “I want the others, Stark!”

After a minute or so, the agents released Tony suddenly and headed out the door as well.

***

“Well shit, Tony.”

“Was looking for something a bit more helpful there, Rhodes!”

“Sorry…”

Tony wanted him to say something else, anything else. But Rhodes was just as much at a loss for words as him.

Tony slumped down onto the large white sofa that sat in the center of the room, a thick, black flip phone in his hands as he fidgeted with it nervously.

Tony and May, after she'd woken up and they’d had a heated argument about where her nephew was and why (Tony intentionally leaving out some of the grimmer details), hurried to the compound. He needed the phone. He needed the Avenger’s location. To turn them in or to ask for their help, Tony wasn’t sure what he’d do. Which is why he’d asked both Rhodey and Happy to meet him in his suite.

May was with Pepper a few floors below, Pepper trying to comfort the woman.

Tony threw the phone beside him on the couch and put his face in his hands.

Rhodey strode over and set a hand on his friend’s shoulder, then sat on the arm of the couch “The kid will be okay. We’ll get him out of there,” comforted Rhodes.

Tony waited a moment then pulled his face out from his hands. He felt like he was going to break down at any minute from how screwed up all of it had gotten, how it was all because of Tony, and how it was his responsibility to get the Peter out of that place. Whatever the cost. Peter Parker was too young for this shit.

Tony looked up at Rhodey and explained, “After Cap broke the others out, they increased security on the Raft… substantially. Probably more than triple the agents, cameras, locks— everything. Busting in there, guns blazing, it’s not gonna work, Rhodey.” Tony paused and turned away from Rhodes. Then he continued, “We would need their help.” It was understood between them that he meant the other Avengers.

Tony looked over to Happy, who’d been standing silently near the corner of the room. Hap hadn’t said anything. At this point, Tony didn’t really want him to. He knew Happy and Peter had gotten pretty close over the past few months, maybe closer than the kid and Tony himself had gotten. Anything Happy could possibly say would only make the other feel that much guiltier.

“If they say no, though…” continued Tony, “if they won’t help… then we lose our chance at trying to trick them out of hiding too. Then, Peter’s stuck there.” Tony stood up, tucking his hands in his suit pocket and trying his best to convey a characteristic poise he didn’t feel.

“Look, I don’t want to turn them in as much as the next guy but— dammit! If they said no! What then?… How could I chance it? Chance Peter being…” Tony trailed off and turned away from Rhodey and Happy.

Tony established a firmer tone again, squeezing his fist, “Peter won’t be collateral. He can’t be.” Tony shook his head. “Not because of me.”

He looked up when Happy finally spoke, “This isn’t your fault, Tony.” Not what Tony was expecting, but it didn’t make him feel better. Hap kept going “But you, the others— you all owe it to him to get him out of there. This wasn't his fight.”

Not until I brought him into it, thought Tony.

Rhodes spoke up again, “I get that things with them have kind of gone to crap, Tones. And hey, I don’t know what happened with you and Cap in Siberia” Tony flinched. “But we should have some faith in them. They’re not going to let a kid go to jail.” Rhodey crossed his arms, still leaning on the arm of the sofa. “They’d help, Tony. You know that.”

“Yeah, then what?” snapped Tony. He began walking over to the nearby bar, filling up a glass of scotch, taking a sip and answering his own question, “Peter spends the rest of his life as an outlaw. Can’t go back to school, can’t see his friends! All because those ass clowns don’t want to sign a goddamn paper!” Tony slammed down the glass.

Everyone was silent for a few more seconds. Every step in the decision-making process came with ten “what if’s” and 100 more upshots. It seemed, no matter what decision they came to, they were either screwing over their former friends or an innocent teenager. Or both.

Rhodes quietly but firmly spoke up, “I think you should ask for their help … but I’ll stand behind whatever choice you make. They'd always have the choice to sign, but the kid doesn't deserve prison. ”

Happy added, “Just get him out of there, Boss. Whatever comes with that, I don’t care. Just get the kid out.” A few seconds and Happy sighed, “Where’s May?”

“With Pepper,” said Tony before he took another sip of scotch. “They’re in the lounge three floors down.”

Happy didn’t say anything else, only nodded back to Tony and left the room. Rhodey followed behind Happy, sparing Tony a small, reassuring smile, almost to wish Tony luck on the choice he had to make.

Tony strode back to the sofa, liquor in hand, sat down and picked up the flip phone. He stared at the phone a few seconds before beginning to simply fidget with it once again, lost in his thought and guilt and anger.

***

Peter opened his eyes and found that he was looking up at the ceiling. He was laying down on what felt like a (relatively hard, uncomfortable) bed. The bright lights directly above him made his head ache more than it had already. He blinked rapidly to hurry is his vision into focus and tried to look around the room he was in. Instead realized there was something thick, heavy and tight around his neck, weighing down his head and neck. He attempted to reach up to it but something else forced his arms against his body, wrapped around his torso.

He summoned some energy to try to raise his head against the weight and see what held his arms down, but it was pointless. He didn't have the strength in him.

What the hell was around his neck?

He realized not too long later that he couldn’t move his legs apart either. They were bound together by the ankles. Trying to yank them apart, nothing budged. Yanking his arms. Nothing. Nothing was budging.

He jerked in a breath

Peter's muscles tensed, his eyes moved around sporadically, urgently-- he didn't even know what he was looking for. The panic bubbled up.

He needed to move.

He couldn't fucking move.

He felt weak, lightheaded, dizzy (the lights began to blur again) with absolutely no clue what was going on. His heart pounded. Maybe he was sweating. And he couldn't breathe.

Peter heard a sound come from the corner of the room but he couldn’t focus enough to conclude what I might have been. Then a voice he very vaguely recognized began,

“Stay calm, Mr. Parker. You’re fine.” Peter wasn’t sure why, but he knew he really didn’t like that voice.

Peter wanted out.

Quickly enough, tears were threatening to spill and his chest felt overwhelmingly tight. In the stress of the moment, Peter started to violently jerk with newfound strength, trying his best to break free. The sound of a tear filled his room as he discovered he had the slightest bit more room for his left arm to move.

The same voice from earlier sounded a bit more panicked, “Straitjacket’s not going to hold!” Suddenly he felt other people’s hands holding him down against the bed. He heard overlapping voices but could only focus in on one he'd recognized:

“We've got to drug him!” Peter then got the all-too-familiar feeling of a prick in his neck right above whatever was clamped around it. “… stronger than I thought. Even with the collar. We’re gonna have to…” The man Peter knew he hated kept talking but Peter couldn’t make out what he was saying anymore. He felt weaker and more tired rapidly.

The calmness that set in was nice, but he knew shouldn't be there.

*

“Just stay calm, kid.” The man from earlier somehow sounded patronizing. “Better?” Peter slowly turned his head, trying to ignore the weight around it. No one other than Peter and the man was in the room, so the teen wondered how much time had passed. The man clarified, “The drugs. Did they help?” Help? What were they supposed to help? He’s still tied up. Peter questioned how much this guy really cared about helping.

Then everything started to come back to him: The banging at the door. The men holding him back. His aunt hitting the ground.

The agents that grabbed Mr. Stark. And Mr. Stark-- he knew this man. He’d said his name back at the apartment. What was it…?

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The man pulled up a chair that rested in a corner of the room and took a seat. Meanwhile, Peter's brain was speeding a mile a minute.

“Where’s my aunt?” He tried to sound strong but his throat hurt and it came out weak.

“She’s okay. Probably with Stark right now,” answered the man tiredly, “I’m just guessing. They’re most likely at the compound. Discussing. Things. I gave Stark a lot to think about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he has a lot to think about.” Now, he’s being patronizing. Peter didn’t respond, only glared at the other.

“I don’t plan on hurting you. This place isn’t fun, I know. But you'll—”

“Why?” Peter asked quietly, “Why am I here?”

The tall, white-haired man sniffed and sat up in the chair. “Officially, because you’re a vigilante with superhuman powers."

“And unofficially?”

The man didn’t respond this time.

“Right,” Peter said quietly. He straightened his neck again to stare at the ceiling.

“The thing around your neck, it connects to your nervous system. It was supposed to keep your powers at bay, but you’re a strong kid.” He stood up from the chair. “It’ll need some tweaking but if there’s no funny business nothing will get too uncomfortable for you.” Peter considered what he meant by that while the man started heading for the door, continuing, “You will be out of here soon enough.” He looked back, and just before leaving, he added, “I’m Secretary Thaddeus Ross by the way. In case you didn’t know.” And Ross was gone.

And Peter was alone.

He recognized the name this time. Secretary of State. The Secretary of fucking State. Was Peter so much of a threat? No. Ross had said he’d be out of here soon. What had he meant by that? Why would Ross track him down just to let him go?

Except, Ross had given Stark “a lot to think about”. Peter took a guess that this wasn’t about him anyway. It was about his mentor, instead. Peter imagined he was just here as leverage. Shit.

Peter couldn’t decide if he should be angry or worried. If he’d put more effort into it, Peter would probably have been able to draw a few more conclusions about what was going on. But he didn’t have it in him to think so much anymore.

He realized then that he was exhausted.

Before he knew it, his eyelids were twitching closed and after a few minutes, he was out once again.

Chapter Text

Peter had spent hours on the uncomfortable bed, just thinking and waiting for something to happen. There was nothing in the room except for the bed, nothing for him to do, except to think, think about the stupidest of things. At least, he wasn't in a straitjacket anymore.

At some point an aged blonde woman walked in, set a tray of food down on the floor and, without saying anything or making eye contact, immediately left the cell.

Ugh, cell

Peter didn’t like to use that word to describe it. Thinking of it like that made him feel like a criminal. Just another one of the crooks Spider-Man fought against.

He didn’t like to call it his room either. Room sounded too sentimental, too personal. Your room is missed; this place would never be missed.

’Enclosure’ worked. Enough, anyway.

Sure, calling it that made him feel more claustrophobic than he already had been, but nothing worked better: Suite? No. Accommodations? Too amenable. Chamber? Too medieval. Niche? Vault? Tomb?

Okay, he needed to stop thinking about this.

But, there was nothing to do than to think.

Enclosure. Enclosure worked. Enough, anyway.

Ross interrupted Peter’s thoughts when he abruptly entered the room with another overly-buff man who took to guarding the door.

”Not eating, huh?”

It was then that Peter realized he hadn’t made a move for the food the lady brought in. Then he also realized he was starving. He’d needed more food than any normal person with a normal metabolism to function.

He didn’t mean to charge for the food as quickly as he did.

Ross chuckled as Peter brought the tray back up to the bed and set it down.

Out of spite, Peter didn’t start eating. Just looked Ross dead in the eyes and started, “Why am I here?”

”I told you why, kid.”

”Okay. Then, what do you want from Mr. Stark?”

Ross stood surprised, knowing he hadn’t said anything to Peter about the kid being leverage. He then huffed a breath, smirking at Peter, “I can see why Tony would be fond of you.”

Ross leaned against the wall, “Well, you figured it out, kid. Almost, at least. The least I can do is fill in the blanks:” Ross paused, smiling again, “Tony’s going to get the other Avengers for me.”

Peter gaped a bit, but held his overall composure. “He would never do that.”

”Of course he would. He’s not going to leave you stuck in prison. He’ll bring me the others. They’ll sign the Accords or fill these cells.”

Peter cringed at the word.

He knew enough about the Accords to get why the others didn’t sign. And enough to get why Mr. Stark and Rhodey and Vision did.

As he saw it, people wouldn’t just indefinitely be okay with such powerful people unbounded. And saying ‘no’ to 117 countries would draw up a lot of cynicism. The other shoe would eventually drop.

He also got the Avengers shouldn’t have to ask for permission to help somebody— or many somebodies, let alone leave it up to potentially corrupt individuals (he certainly trusted the Avengers more than the UN).

Peter didn’t know if he would have signed or not. He just hoped he would never have to make the choice.

The only thing he did know was the Avengers would never deserve to be locked up, and that they wouldn’t be helping anyone if they were in prison.

Peter couldn’t let Tony do that to them because of him. Peter felt guilty about a lot of things in his life (his uncle’s death being at the top of the list) and he sure as hell didn’t want “Avengers in jail because of him” adding to it.

”Why are you here?”

”Just checking on my favorite bargaining chip. You should eat. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

And purely out of spite, Peter let the food sit.

And maybe it was his restlessness, lack of food to his brain, anger about what Ross’s agents did to May and Tony, or fear that Tony would actually turn in the other Avengers for Peter (or maybe it was his reckless teenage spontaneity) but this time he charged for the door.

The tall, large and bald man dressed head-to-toe in black gear in front of the door, grabbed him by the arm and Peter didn’t hesitate to punch him across the face. Peter seemed to have more of his strength back (though the lack of food must have been largely impeding to his healing and health) because the punch sent the man back into the wall.

Peter didn’t bother with Ross, only wanting to get out of there. He ran full speed out the door, coming across only a few more men as large as the last reaching at him to trying to stop him. He pushed past two of them and when the last threw a punch, Peter took a fighting stance and threw one of his own. Missing when the man ducked, he kicked, only to miss again.

And maybe it was his restlessness, lack of food, anger, fear, or reckless spontaneity that left him forgetful to the collar around his neck that caused him to drop where he was, convulsing from the electricity surging through his body.

Ugh, collar.

Peter hated that word.

***

“Stark?”

“Captain,”

There was a brief pause.

Tony still had a voice echoing in his head: It kept saying to tell Cap there was some other-worldly danger, that they all had to work together and fight it; to tell Cap to meet at the compound for him to explain more; Then he could let Ross know where the others would be, and Ross would let Peter go.

He guessed Rogers probably wouldn’t have fallen for that anyway.

“I need your help.”

Another pause.

Tony continued, “The kid you met in Germany” Tony took a breath, “he’s in some trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” That was Nat. Well, then I guess he’s on speaker.

”Natasha, long time no see.”

“Hard to meet up in exile.”

Okay, so they were still bitter. Tony didn’t respond.

Nat spoke again, “ Sorry… What trouble is the kid in?”

“Well, Ross wants you all to sign the Accords. He’s pretty much got the kid hostage until you do. So, you know, last appeals and all…”

“What exactly are you calling for, Tony?” Steve asked.

”You know what I’m calling for.”

”I don’t… I’m sorry about the kid but— you couldn’t expect— We’re— not going to sign. You’d have to know that.”

”Yeah, yeah.”

A pause. This one longer than the others.

Tony didn’t expect them to. Obviously. He’s smart. And he knows his team. Or— former team.

"Right, well, follow up question: Help me get him back wouldya?"

“Tony, we can’t just—“

“Steve, he’s a kid, okay? He shouldn’t be there.”

”Where is ‘there’?” Nat questioned.

”The Raft.” Tony knew, even though neither had been imprisoned there, they both had a good idea of the conditions there. They’d broken out the others; they’d seen it first hand.

”Shit, Tony.” Steve sighed.

”So, you can see why I’m not just going to leave him there… Guys, I know this might be asking a lot but I can’t get him out on my own, not even with Rhodey. Vision’s MIA. Help me out here,” ”

Tony didn’t get a response at first. It made him more desperate than he cared to admit. If he couldn’t get them to help he was pretty much screwed.

Correction: Peter was screwed. Tony hated the thought of it. He hated the feeling of having no other options. It gave him a sense of hopelessness and anxiety. Of course he wouldn’t give up on Peter, but not giving up didn’t mean things would work out.

He was desperate this time.

He just hoped they would get that.

“Where the hell is he Tony?” She was yelling. Quickly enough, her eyes turned glassy. Tears began rolling down her cheeks but it wasn’t reflected in her voice. It was steady and radiating anger.

“Thaddeus Ross, he—“

“The- the secretary of state? Secretary Ross?” May started “ He took Peter! Why?”

Tony all but whispered, “He’s— he’s trying to get to me.”

He saw May close her fists. She stared daggers at him but didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, May. I’ll get him back, I promise… I won’t let anything happen to him.

“What does he want from you?”

“He wants me to find and turn in the other Avengers.”

May took a few seconds. “You better fix this Tony.”

“I will, May.”

“Don’t screw this up, Tony. Get him back.” She said, then her demeanor dissolved in an instant, “ Please”

He saw the tears in her eyes again. “I will May, I promise. I won’t give up until he’s out.”

He knew he shouldn’t have said those last words to her; she looked more worried after he said them.

I won’t give up. Those words were supposed to make her feel better. Instead, they instilled a sense of doubt. Like there was a fight to be fought. Like there was a challenge to be overcome. But people can lose fights. They can fall short for a challenge.

Of course, he wouldn’t give up. But not giving up didn’t mean things would work out.

Tony redirected his attention to Steve and Natasha and started,

“The kid is fifteen. I was supposed to be looking after him… I know I screwed up involving him in our problems. You have no idea how much I regret it. But, I can’t fix that. The only thing I can fix right about now is the kid getting out of there.”

Tony had to take a few breaths, they still hadn’t answered. He wanted horribly for them to say anything. Or, he supposed that wasn’t true. ‘Anything’ would include saying ‘no’; he didn’t know what he would do if they said no.

“I need your help. I’m desperate here. Please guys… He doesn’t deserve this…”

*

”You’re going where?” Sam asked

”Nat and I are going to meet Tony before we break the kid out. It’s up to all of you if you want to come or not.”

Steve stood tall among the other Avengers. Nat had reclined comfortably on the couch next to Wanda. Recently they had all been held up in a (well-furnished and agreeable) warehouse in an unpopulated part of upstate New York set up with T’Challa’s help. Maybe it was the sentimentality or the proximity to the other Avengers (if Tony were to call requesting their help), but they opted to keep their base in New York.

All the better when Tony requested to meet.

”And what if he’s lying? It could be a trap.” Clint threw in his two cents.

”We have to take that chance,” said Steve.

Sam threw up his arms, standing up from his spot on the sofa, contending, “No, we don’t!”

”Yeah, we do.” Natasha said, “It’s not like we won’t take precautions, keeping our guard up, but Tony needs our help.”

“Needs our help—“ Clint scoffed, “as if we owe him! He left us on the Raft, remember?”

”It’s not like we’re forgetting our fight here, Clint.” Steve urged, gesturing, “But you have to remember whether we like it or not, whether we agree or not, Tony is on the right side of the law. It’s our choices that put Tony in the situation he’s in now. We are the ones Ross is really after and he’s using Tony and the kid to get to us. We have at least part of the blame for this kid practically being held hostage!”

Sam remarked, “No, Tony got the kid involved in our fight. Now he has the nerve to ask us to pull his ass out of the fire?”

”It’s not about the kid being involved in Germany, it’s about Tony caring about the kid. If it wasn’t Spider-Man, Ross would just find someone else to hold against Tony as leverage to get to us,” said Steve.

“Well if there’s just going to be a next person, then what’s the point? It’d just keep going until we signed, but this wouldn’t be happening if Tony hadn’t sided against us," Clint argued.

”So what? We leave the kid in there?”

Clint opened his mouth to make another argument but Wanda stood before he could, interjecting, “I want to help.”

She continued, ”It doesn’t matter what we have against Tony, or anything else other than the child currently imprisoned on the Raft. No one deserves that place. I’m helping to get him out.”

Steve nodded and Natasha smirked as if she was proud of her.

They all knew Wanda got the worst of the Raft. She hadn’t much talked about it but they knew about the collar, the solitary, the straitjacket. She’d been admittedly resilient about the whole situation, but she saw more than anyone else the reasons to get the kid out of there as quickly as they could.

Sam sighed, waited a few seconds and remarked, “Well, if girl-wonder here is going, I guess I am too.”

Clint crossed his arms when he saw Captain give him a slight simper.

”Oh, shut up, Cap,” he said (relatively) light heartedly. Then, “When are we leaving?”

”As soon as possible. With all of you, this is going to be a hell of a lot easier.”

“Tony is going to call Ross to demand to see the kid in person to know he’s unharmed,” Nat explained, "Tony’ll say he’ll only give up our location if he does see Spider-Man. We’re still waiting for word back from Tony to see if Ross takes the bait.”

Steve continued, “If he does, we are on track to break the kid out. If not, it gets a bit more complicated,”

”And if this is all a trap?” Sam questioned.

Steve and Nat looked at each other.

Steve asserted, ”We’ll just have to trust that it’s not. We'll have to trust Tony wouldn't do that.”

"If Spider-Man is in there, and he's desperate enough to get the kid out," Clint crossed his arms "I'd have a hard time trusting Stark wouldn't being trying to trick us."

Steve didn't respond.

***

Peter dozed in and out of consciousness for —well, he wasn’t sure how long it had been— but he sure as hell woke up when his whole body became freezing, unbearably cold.

He gasped and looked down to see he was in a tub of water— ice water. Fucking awesome. Peter started to collect his thoughts and composure as much as possible but before he knew it he was breathing way to quickly, then full on hyperventilating.

The violent shivering came immediately as his attention turned to the men strapping his forearms down to the sides of the tub.

Except this realization came too late, since when he finally tried to pull away, they’d already secured his wrists. His legs must have been strapped down under the water first because those were a lost cause too.

It’s not like he’d have gotten away anyway.

Fucking collar.

Besides, his thoughts still weren’t completely coherent and the closest ones to something intelligible focused on how freezing he was.

His breathing had hardly slowed and the panic had barely decreased. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, leaning his head on the back of the tub.

For the second time that day, Ross interrupted his thoughts:

"You know, if you’d been any other prisoner, my men would've immediately started to pummel your ass.” Ross sounded livid, but still trying to conceal his temper.

Peter lifted his head up quickly, he had been in a partly-reclined position against the back of the tub, his collarbones and up out of the freezing water. His strapped down arms hindered his ability to turn, and Ross must have been almost directly behind him. Since he couldn’t get eyes on him.

"I’ll leave it up to you to decide if that’s worse or better than this. Not that it would matter.”

Ross came into Peter’s eyesight and grabbed a chair that Peter hadn’t even realized had been there. He subsequently took note of the rest of the room. It looked ominous, dark and mostly empty, gray walls expanding five or so feet wider on either side than the length of tub he was in.

"Tony’s going to be even more of a pain in my ass if I try hurting you-- at least in ways that’ll leave bruises. I don’t know how quick your healing is or how quick Tony will be in getting the others. So, I’d rather not risk him seeing it. Besides, this works fine,

"The freezing cold water will slow you down. Weaken you. Hypothermia will likely set in, but it’s hard to tell a lot of things with you. I’m betting you’ll pass out though, eventually. When that happens, they’ll put you back in your cell,” Ross said pointing to the agents still on either side of Peter, “The collar reads your brainwaves, so don’t try faking it. Hopefully after that, we won’t have any more problems.”

With that Ross stood, straightened his suit jacket and left the room from the door in the far corner. After a few moments, the other men followed.

This left Peter alone, shivering, teeth chattering as the freezing water felt like it set into his bones.

He leaned his head on the back of the tub once again and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to bear through or get used to the stinging cold. He just hoped he passed out quickly.

Chapter Text

“Stark, I was looking forward to your call…”

“Screw you, Ross.”

Ross scoffed. “I hope you’re calling with the Avengers’ location.”

“I have it. But I want to see the kid first.”

“That’s not how this works—“

“You want the others, then I see Peter. And I swear to God if you hurt him—“ Tony held it to his ear, absentmindedly squeezing his phone, effectively using it as a stress ball. He looked up at Rhodey who was standing over him.

“The kid is fine," added Ross, "but in case you need a brush up on how leverage works: I get the location, then you get the kid.”

“I never said I'd get the kid first; I said I'd see him first." Rhodey tossed him a supportive nod. "I want to know he’s unharmed and right fucking next to me before I give you anything.” Tony took a breath then continued, “I see him, then fine, on the spot, you get your location.”

“And how would I know this isn’t a trap?”

“I don’t give a rats ass if you think it’s a trap!" Sure it was a trap. It didn't mean Tony couldn't get mad at Ross for accusing him of it. "I want to see the kid, Ross!”

The secretary didn’t answer for a moment while he thought over the ultimatum. Ross probably figured saying no would get him nowhere with Tony, and cut his losses before they started. “... Fine, Stark. I’ll send you the details.” Ross hung up.

"I can't believe he fell for that." said Rhodey.

Tony could tell Rhodes was trying to lighten the mood, but Tony had given him nothing more than an uneasy half-smile, with no genuineness to it. If Ross was that easy to convince then maybe they were underestimating the security of the prison (which already had extremely high expectations). Or maybe Ross had something planned, or safeguards in place if Tony crossed him. Maybe this was his plan, so all the Avengers would be in one place and he would get his hands on them that way.

Or maybe Ross is just a dumbass.

Or maybe he just doubts Tony would put the kid's life on the line rather than turning in the teammates he hasn't seen in months now.

It makes him feel nauseous. Like he betrayed Peter. The kid he's helped, and stressed about, and laughed with (and was admittedly starting to have this vague feeling of fatherhood toward). Tony loved the kid. Loved him more than he loved his teammates (which he still did even after everything, he knew that).

Now, he was just filled with guilt. Guilt because he got Peter into the situation in the first place, now he couldn't even choose him over the others.

He held on to the idea that eventually Tony would get Peter back to his old life. All he had to do was follow the plan.

Peter would be fine.

***

Relative to how much had happened, it felt strange to Tony that less than half a day had passed since May had called him letting him know that Peter had run off into a burning building.

But here he was: Late morning, in a Stark Industries storage facility a hundred miles or so outside the city, tapping his foot as he waited impatiently for the arrival of his former teammates

The minutes seemed to drag on more so with the lingering uneasiness that wrapped around his chest like a brace.

Tony glanced down at his best friend who resided in a metal chair at the end of the metal table centered in the room. Rhodey gave Tony a light smile before turning his attention away. Rhodes seemed impressively calm compared to the mechanic standing above him. Which only served to aggravate Tony more. How could someone be calm right now? After everything that went down?

Of course, Rhodey didn’t call Nat an innately duplicitous woman last time he saw her.

Nor was he nearly killed by the super solider, only after finding out—

Nope, he wasn’t going down that road. Not now. It didn’t matter right now. Right now was about Peter. Only Peter.

Tony turned around from the table Rhodes was at, staring out the ceiling to floor windows that overlooked the lower level of the storage facility. The facility's first floor was at least 30 feet below them and it was the size of a football field, mostly filled with metal crates and storage vaults.

The office they were in was bland and practically empty. It had two desks against the walls and a table in the middle. He doubted anyone actually used it, something he quickly discovered after he went scrounging through the desk drawers for anything to fiddle with just to calm his nerves.

Coming up short, he settled for tapping his foot. Rhodey had told him a million times over the years how annoying he found it, but he must be letting Tony have it this time.

”Rhodes.”

Tony hardly processed what he saw before calling his friends name, as the super soldier rounded the corner of a storage unit, decked out in his full uniform. Just as Rhodey came up behind Tony, Steve looked up at them, and the billionaire’s heart dropped to his feet. He forced himself to not turn away. Nat came up beside Steve a moment later, hardly sparing Tony a glance before continuing her path to get to the office. Steve followed.

Sixty demoralizing seconds later and Steve and Natasha were in the large office, being greeted and gestured by Rhodey to sit down at the center table.

Tony took to leaning against a desk instead of taking a seat, opting to keep his distance. He kept his tact and poise as Rhodey broke the silence,

“It’s good to see you both.”

Funny, Tony was feeling the exact opposite.

“You too, Rhodes,” said Steve, “I was glad to see you on your feet.” The super soldier looked down at the exoskeleton surrounding Rhodes’s legs.

“Yeah, I guess I can thank Tony for that.” They all looked at Tony and, for the first time in a long time, Tony didn’t revel in being the focus of all the attention in the room.

“Yup, new tech. Working to commercialize. How’re your lives going?” Tony pointedly crossed his arms, wanting to move on from the welcomes and superficial icebreakers.

Steve took the hint. He leaned up against the table as Nat began, “So what do we know?”

“You guys probably have a better guess than us, you’ve been in and out of there before.”

“Ross hasn’t been too keen on keeping me in the loop,” remarked Tony, “but I know the security’s gone up since your prison break. That’s where your ideas come in.”

Steve and Nat looked at each other.

“You got to have something,” Tony said.

“Yes, but it’s mostly dependent on security.”

“I hacked as far as I could into the Raft’s database, i.e. all of it,” Tony said cockily, "I have the lay out and control over the Raft's ability to raise out of the water. But Ross is keeping more off cameras and off the system than I appreciate. I can’t get guard schedules or even number of guards there. I can’t find which cells prisoners are in either.” Tony hesitated with the idea of Peter being a prisoner in a cell.

Nat added, “Ross will be taking you to the kid anyway, we wouldn’t need to know which cell.”

“True, but Tony couldn’t get the kid out on his own, at least without the suit. Meaning someone would have to constantly be following,” said Steve.

“Not necessarily. If we have the layout, you could relay signals for us to track on the blueprint. As you moved, we’d get the path. All the while, keeping our distance. I’ve done it before.”

“It always does help to have a super-secret spy on your side, huh?” Tony smiled at her and to his surprise, he got a smirk back, “I’d still have to hack a few systems, make sure they couldn’t pick up the signals but it could work.”

Cap spoke up, “What about cameras? We’d need someone in the security room long before anybody followed Tony.”

“Nat, you up?” asked Rhodes.

“You mean for the job that requires stealth, fighting skills and hacking skills. I’d like to see someone else try it” She smirked again. Somehow her not-so-subtle put down lighted the mood. Tony was grateful. Nat continued, “So we know how were tracking Stark and following him, we can talk more in detail with the others, but we—”

”Where are the others, anyway?” Rhodey asked Nat warily.

Natasha looked at Tony and explained with a softened voice, “We figured it better we not all be in one place… for obvious reasons,”

Aaaaand there went any sense of a lightened mood. They didn’t trust Tony. Thought it might be a trap. That was fair, he supposed. He huffed a breath and lightly smiled; there was no point in refuting her implicit allegation. She didn’t sound necessarily accusing anyway, just precautious.

”As I was saying, we can get to the kid but it’s pointless without a way on and off the Raft.”

“I was thinking about that,” Rhodes started, “They rely on sonar and radar to watch for unauthorized objects, so they don’t have cameras on the perimeter. I talked to Tony, he could disable their radar from a distance, while still making it look like it works fine. Then, when the Raft is raised above water, we could get a quin jet close enough to the prison to drop you guys down. It’d work for getting out too since Tony's hacked the Raft to raise above water when we need it to.” Steve nodded to them, looking satisfied enough.

“Perfect. Rough draft is done,” cracked Tony as he moved from leaning against the desk to staring out the window. Turning back to them only slightly to finish his comment, “you guys talk to the rest of the dream-team and send us a final copy, huh?”

“Tony,” sighed Steve seeing through his vail of remarks, “this all turns out right… you, Rhodey and the kid are still fugitives.”

The mechanic didn’t break his disposition yet as he looked through the window, “Well, after some very careful negotiations, the most Rhodes is going to be doing is flying the quin jet. I’ll need him clean if I’m ever going to be on the gov’s good side again.” Or, more, he didn’t want his best friend going down for this if things went south.

“Even still, you and the kid—”

Tony all but yelled turning around sharply, “Are you wanting me to turn you in?”

And there goes his cocky disposition. Right out the window, like he felt it leave him. Tony left only staring at the super solider in some mix of feelings, none of which could he place.

But what was Cap trying to do to Tony, talking like that? Change his mind? He’d already long considered it. Maybe Ross would let Peter go for just the super solider and assassin...

Tony could hardly change his mind now, anyway.

Tony took a breath. “Look, the kid's a week from summer vacation, alright. I just need him to be clean and cleared before his school starts. I have a place set up near the city. Pepper and Rhodey will be sorting out that stuff from the legal side of things, keeping me up to date. And of course, the only way he’s getting out of this one is if the Accords are undone. So, congrats on that one, Cap, you win…”

Steve didn’t respond and Tony turned his gaze back out the window.

It was only after his mind went elsewhere, staring down at the facility’s lower level, did he grab his side in pain. It ached less as the hours passed but he knew it would pick up again soon enough. The blow Ross’s agent had given him resulted in a bruised rib by his guess. He didn’t actually get it looked at so it had a chance of being a fracture. Either way, it was probably deserving of more attention than Tony was granting it. He just took (more than) a couple of painkillers and proceeded on his mission to save Spider-Man.

In his defense, trying to rescue a super-powered teenager from a top-secret prison by recruiting your ex-best friends, does wonders for getting your mind off aching pain.

Of course, pain does wonders for getting your mind off other things around you, as he focused his attention up to hear Rhodey’s concerned voice calling his name. Tony must have made some sort of groan or wince because Rhodes’s next comment was, “You alright there?” as he glanced down at Tony’s chest.

”Peachy,”

He turned toward his friend wearing a superficial smile, but still gripping his side. Realizing so, he added, “Oh, this! Just courtsey of one of Ross’s men. Only a bruise,” bruised rib. He wasn’t lying… (well, unless it was broken). “All’s good, just one more reason I want to get the kid out and shove it up Ross’s ass.”

Tony strode back to the desk and propped himself up against it once again, as the rest all looked at him with hints of concern. He wasn’t ignoring his injury for no reason, though; there were more important things to do.

So he bandaged his busted demeanor like he should his chest and moved on, “Ross already sent his helicopter to pick me up from the compound, so I have to be back there within the hour when it gets here. I’ll have the comms set up, but when we take off I won’t be able to communicate back given I'd be surrounded by Ross's guys.”

”Then we have to have everything sorted before then,” Nat said, “Cap and I will talk to the others.” She proceeded to stand and Steve followed the action.

”Nat and I will call you soon.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for helping us out, especially after everything.” Rhodey smiled at them and reached out to shake their hands, “it was good to see you both again.”

Steve shook his hand.

“Yeah, you too, Rhodes,”

Nat shook his hand. Then, Rhodey turned away and towards Tony, hiding a small gesture from them that urged Tony to thank them, say goodbye or say something.

But Tony didn’t want to thank them. Sure, they were helping him out— out of a situation they put him in. Why couldn’t they have just signed?

“Guys—“

Steve and Nat turned to look at him. A beat or two passed and the only thing Tony could get himself to say was a quick “Bye.”

They both gave a quick nod, one after the other and left.

Rhodey gave a sigh directed toward Tony.

“Hey, at least I said ‘bye’”

Rhodey shook his head but didn’t say anything else.

Except, Rhodey didn’t know the hostility that rested between Natasha and himself last time they saw each other. And he sure as hell didn’t know what went down in Siberia.

None of that mattered right now anyway. What mattered was Peter.

***

Peter definitely didn’t pass out quickly.

He didn’t pass out at all, actually.

Hours passed.

All his energy drained.

He supposed it was his healing factor that kept him awake. Or maybe mutated spider-human blood is just weird.

It didn’t matter. He was still in that same tub, trying to fall asleep just to get away from the biting cold.

For a while he shivered furiously. But it was when he stopped shivering that he really worried. He figured stopping meant his body was conserving its energy, but he couldn’t more than take a guess.

When what felt like an hour had passed of constant, stinging pain eveloping every inch of his body, tears started streaming down his cheeks. It was a viable question at this point whether or not this was some bodily reaction, or simply the bite of the cold finally getting to be too much.

After two hours, he decided to credit it toward the latter.

It was somewhere between the second and third hours that someone dumped an extra load of ice into the tub. It sent a second large wave of chills through him, as the ice pushed up against his body.

It was by the third that it finally came to an end

Ross barged in and walked into eyesight.

“Stark called. He wants to see you.”

Peter hardly contained his sigh. His eyes welled up at the unadulterated relief flooding through him.

The men that strapped him down before proceeded to unstrap him and lift up by the under arms. He dripped horribly into the tub before they yanked him out harshly.

The heat radiated through him and he felt a heavy shiver run across his body at the abrupt change in temperature.

They began dragging him out of the room. Peter thought it was crude until he realized he couldn’t have walked in the first place; he could hardly feel his below his chest.

His legs limp, dragging across the floor, the men carried him through multiple hallways and heavy automated doors. He was finally pulled into a room and dropped into a chair. Except it looked more like an electric chair. If that didn’t feel like his heart sinking to the floor, he didn’t know what would.

He held his breath as the men strapped him down once again. Any energy that could have been used to fight them had long drained in that tub. He just leaned his head back, holding on to the thought of laying eyes on Mr. Stark again.

Maybe it was childish to be so desperate for a familiar face after only a few hours there, but the hours sucked.

They were only filled with fear and anger and pain and worry and… and all he wanted was some sort of reassurance.

Reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

And if he pictured Mr. Stark saying those words in a hug that warmed his chilled bones, then maybe he could feel a little better.

The men finished strapping him down with metal (probably vibranium) cables, wrists to the arms of the chair and ankles to the legs. Then they dragged the metal chair to turn it around. It scraped and screeched against the also-metal floor loudly. Peter craned his neck quickly to see where they were turning him; the sight of the mirror made his heart sink even more:

He wouldn’t see Stark.

Mr. Stark would see Peter; Peter wouldn’t see him. He wished it didn’t upset him as much as it did.

He’s seen enough cop shows to recognize a one-way window when he sees one: the mirror takes up almost the entire wall. It’s set an inch or two into the wall and has a door directly to the side of it.

They’ve rotated him the full way around when Peter questioned Ross, “When is Mr. Stark going to be here?” He might already be here, his mind supplied.

“Soon enough.”

”That’s not vague.”

Ross smirked. “Within the next couple hours”

It was better than nothing. Or at least the best time frame he’d probably get.

It meant more waiting, though. More time alone. Left with his thoughts. Left with the fear and the anger and the pain and the worry.

Ross and his guys left the room. Peter looked ahead at himself in the mirror. He looked awful: pale, circles under his eyes, soaking wet. His shirt drooped down and his jeans made a squishing sound if he moved a muscle, not that he could much anyway.

He noticed he was still shivering a little bit, but at least he got a little feeling back in his toes. They’d thrown him in the tub with his shoes on (which was wildly uncomfortable but not the first thing on his mind).

Peter wondered if he had frostbite under his shoes and socks. He figured it wasn’t true, that it would tingle or sting more or feel numb altogether. It was unlikely he had it, but any thought that he might have it only added to the worry he felt.

He looked at himself in the mirror again.

He just wanted out. He wanted Mr. Stark to barge through the door and demand his release.

But he would have to suck it up. He’s Spider-Man for God’s sake! He could last however long he needed to.

And what if there’s no way around this, anyway? What if Mr. Stark has to choose the Avengers? As he should. There’s no way Peter would be selfish enough to wish the Avengers to take his place. No way. He could last however long he needed to.

Sure the mere thought staying in here for what could be years made him feel sick, adding to his fear as well, but it didn’t change the fact that he would if he had to.

He’s Spider-Man for God’s sakes.

But even Spider-Man wouldn’t think it would be asking too much for a little reassurance.

So, yeah, maybe it was a little childish, but Peter didn’t care. All he wanted at the moment was for Mr. Stark to be there, grab Peter by the shoulder and tell him everything would be just fine.

Maybe it was too much to ask for...

Chapter Text

Tony headed back to the compound after the little meet up with Nat and Steve.

Rhodey instead stayed at the storage facility and waited for the two Avengers to return with the rest of the team (except of course Thor and Hulk). He went around to the back of the facility to all the jets, trucks, helicopters, cargo planes.

He waited and later talked with Tony a bit on the phone, planning in more detail about what would go down on the Raft.

And about what he would do after everything went down, a point that was largely skimped on earlier.

"I don't know, Rhodey."

"Shouldn't you?"

"No, what I should do is work on this device I have currently in my hand so that the other's can find me on the Raft later and help get the kid out." Tony ranted, "That's what i should do, Rhodey. I'll get him out first, okay?" His voice softened when Rhodey didn't respond, "I'll get you and the others later, on the comms... I have to go." Tony hung up

Once again, not much of an answer.

So Rhodey waited some more.

Wherever the other Avengers were, they couldn't have been far; the team arrived in two large black Ford Expeditions a little over half an hour later. They pulled up not to far from Rhodey, got out quickly, and headed at fast paces to meet Rhodes.

"It's great to see you all again."

Sam greeted him back. "You too, Rhodes."

After a few more hi's and icebreakers, they walked over to the quinjet closer to the building. They boarded.

Some (slightly forced) chatter was thrown around before they all found their spots on the quinjet. Rhodey handed out some comm sets that were stored on the jet and connected it with his own that could connect with Tony's. Then he took the pilots chair and, sooner rather than later, they'd taken off.

Tony was likely creating (and probably finishing up) all the tech and plans needed for the breakout. Rhodes and the others headed a little outside the compound so they wouldn't be far behind when Ross arrived there soon and snatched up Tony to head to the Raft.

The ride was mostly quiet.

Until Clint broke the silence. "So, Rhodes. Tell us: Is this for real?”

“What do you mean?”

“None of this is BS. Tony needs our help. That’s all this is. No tricks, no traps…”

“No tricks. No traps.” Rhodey said.

“And you’re sure? I'm just saying—” said Sam.

“Guys, I know you’re not best friends with Tony right now, but he’s not as eager to put you away as you may think.”

Sam paced across the jet. “Well, he wasn’t a big help in getting us out.”

“Neither was I,” Rhodes snapped. He turned around in the pilots chair while the others looked at him, “Why are you taking my word for it? My word that it’s not a trick.”

Nat smirked as she leaned against the wall of the Quinn jet. Wanda kept her head down. Steve looked curiously at Rhodey while Sam and Clint tried to find a response.

“Look whatever you think of Tony… all he wants is to get Spider-Man out of there. And I’ll tell you this: With stakes like these, if Tony wanted to track you all down to hand you over to Ross on a silver platter, he wouldn’t rest until he did… But, he’s asking for your help.”

Rhodey turned back around in his chair. “And he may never say it, but he is thankful you said yes.”

”The boy,” Wanda said as she looked up, “What’s his name?”

“Don’t know,” said Rhodey, “Tony hasn’t told me. He says it’s not his secret to tell. Doesn’t keep him from talking about the kid, though. Calls him Bohr in my presence.”

“Bore? Like he’s boring?” asked Clint.

”No, the scientist. According to Tony the kid’s crazy smart. Probably why Tony took a liking to him so much.”

A beeping started faintly. Steve spoke up, “That’s Stark.” Steve pressed on the comm set in his ear and Tony’s voice rang across everyone’s sets, “Who’s here?”

“Skipping welcomes, are we?” said Nat.

“Well, have approximately 3 minutes until I’m schlepped onto Ross’s helicopter so…”

“Rhodes here.”

“Steve.”

“Clint.” “Sam.” “Wanda.”

“Great, gang’s all here.”

“Okay, we have to hurry,” said Steve "when Stark’s on the copter, he won’t be able to communicate back to us, well except for ‘yes’ and ‘no’ by pressing his comm.”

“One beep for yes, two for no. But I can't do that too many times without causing some suspicion, so keep questions to a minimum.”

“How are you going to disable radar?” Nat asked.

“The device is in the lining of my suit jacket. I’ll start it up as soon as I get on the Raft. Three beeps to let you know I have.”

“Then we’ll be flying fast. Really fast. We have 10 minutes to get from where the radar can’t pick us up all the way to and inside the Raft before it starts to lower underwater,” said Rhodey.

“And how are we getting the signals to track you?”

“That device is also in the lining of my suit. You should meet my tailor. Rhodes's phone is the receiver to it.”

"Wait... what?" Rhodes said.

"Oh yeah, Rhodey, I hacked your phone. It's now the receiver."

Rhodes just huffed. He pulled it out of his pocket and held it out for Cap to grab, he does. “I’ve got it now.” When Cap held it out, blueprints appeared on the screen. He made a small whipping motion with his hand and the device projected the plans into the air above it.

“When I activate it from my side you’ll see a blue blinking dot. Obviously, that’ll be me.Also, hold the power button on the phone for 3 seconds and it'll raise the Raft out of the water when you need it to." Tony had a slight cockiness in his voice that everyone else ignored.

The smugness dropped quickly. “My last three beeps will be when I reach Spider-Man. Then you have to hurry. I won’t be able to stall Ross for long before I need back up. And if Ross get the chance to call for a lock down it’ll get real damn hard to get out of there.”

“Noted.” said Nat.

“Wanda and I will be following you,” said Steve, “Nat will get to the security room to watch the cameras.”

“Clint and I will be guarding our way out,” Sam added.

“Got it. Okay, Ross’s men are coming through the entrance room of the compound as we speak. Last words before I can’t communicate back to you guys:” said Tony, “In case you need to recognize him, Spider-Man is 5’8’’, brown hair, brown eyes. Last time I saw him he was wearing a cheesy science T-Shirt and jeans, but he probably won't be any more.” Since he’s a prisoner, he doesn’t say.

Tony sounded like he was rushing to get out words now. "Also, as I told Romanoff and Rogers, I don’t know how many guards there are on the Raft, but if any of them see you guys and get word back to Ross, it risks lock down. So wait for Nat’s okay before going anywhere.”

“And—uh, last…"

The sound of doors opening and other voices echoed across the comm now.

"Well—just… Thank you.”

***

Two large men escorted Tony to the helicopter. Tony recognized one of the men from the night before. He gave himself some credit; it took a hell of a lot of strength not to turn around and break the guy’s nose. Then arm, then leg, then…

“Ross. How’s my least favorite Secretary of State?” Tony greeted as he strolled to the helicopter, Ross waiting right outside it.

“That’ll depend on what you tell me today, Stark.”

“That sucks, I’m in the mood to make you miserable .”

Ross humorlessly chuckled and prompted with a hand gesture to the men standing behind Tony to pat the superhero down. Tony rolled his eyes while they did.

The comm set was tiny and farther down in his ear— new nanotech he was working on— so nobody would be able to identify it.

When the two men were done, Ross gestured to them to the move Tony onto the helicopter and soon thereafter the superhero was pushed rather harshly on to the copter.

The man he’d recognized moved around him to his right side. The other sat on his left. Ross sat on the seating across the man on Tony’s left while the pilot took off.

The ride was mostly silent. The other Avengers’ voices rang in his ear. They weren’t doing more than flying to the Raft at this point, so they were talking about nothing important, just idle chatter.

Still, it was chatter Tony wanted to focus on. Wished he was there for. Wished things between him and the Avengers would just go back to normal as he listened to their back and forth. That wasn’t happening anytime soon, he thought.

At least he hardly heard Rhodey talking. At least he wasn’t alone in his odd-man-out position.

He couldn’t much focus on it anyway, his mind kept reverting back to Peter.

“You should have left him alone in Queens, you know.”

The Avengers went quiet in his ear; it never slipped Tony’s mind the Avengers could hear anything Tony could if they were quiet enough.

“Don’t start, Ross.” Please don’t start.

Ross pushed. “He was doing well without you.”

“He was fighting criminals in his pajamas.”

“At least he wasn’t involved in your problems” Ross said. The secretary looked the superhero dead on. “All I’m saying is you can think of me as a monster all you want, but I wasn’t the one that brought him into this.”

There were so many things wrong with that sentence. Tony could defend himself while insulting Ross in twenty different ways. Somehow, he didn’t feel like doing any of that.

Tony kept his mouth shut.

“We’re almost at the Raft,” said Ross.

*

He was doing well without you… I wasn’t the one that brought him into this.

Everyone was silent. Everyone was listening to everything.

They were upset at Tony for many reasons. Bringing a child into their battle in Germany became a new one on the list just a couple hours ago.

But Tony cared about the kid, protected the kid. No one faulted him for being (or wanting to be) in the kid’s life.

A quick look at any of them and one could see it: empathy

All of them had someone in their life who they’d put in danger by simply being in their life. They all knew the guilt that accompanied it.

They knew that was why Tony remained quiet. Guilt.

But it was still new to them to not hear a witty comeback from their friend. But it brought one thing to a bit of light: Tony had changed.

It wasn't overtly obvious, and it definitely wasn't to anyone that didn't know Stark well. Besides, it wasn’t simply the lack of a quick quip, but the thank you, the swallowing of his ego to call them and ask for help (given it wasn’t the end of the world)— and especially the “having a 15 year old kid in his life”.

Yeah, that was a biggie. Tony can hardly stand anyone who doesn’t know exactly what “quantum tunneling effect” means. But a kid?

That’s definitely new.

Only four months had passed, but Tony was different somehow.

They could all tell.

We’re almost at the Raft.

A few minutes passed. No one spoke until the quinjet stopped and used the thrusters on the under side of the jet to stay stationary in the sky, "We go any farther and the radar will pick us up," said Rhodey.

*

It was early morning still. The sky was coated in clouds; the morning light was diffracted through them enough to hurt anyone's eye's with the brightness. The Raft was rising out of the water as the helicopter approached it.

Raft prison was massive. Water poured out from drains in the side, gigantic waves formed as the ocean water was pushed outward. The hatch doors on top opened up to allow the helicopter to enter. It'd be quite a sight to anyone if it weren't for the idea of a innocent 15-year-old prisoner inside.

They touched down on the landing pad just as it began lowering to the main level.

The man to Tony's left opened the door and got out only after Ross had. Tony got out next. As he planted his feet on the ground, he straightened his suit jacket to disguise the slight hold he held right under his second button to activate the device. With a minuscule vibration as a signal, the radar throughout the Raft was disabled. Then, Tony pressed on his ear's tragus three times to alert the others that radar had been disabled. Tony shook off the suspicious look Ross was currently giving him.

The pilot and the man Tony had earlier recognized left the helicopter as well.

They looked at Ross. He nodded to the pilot to leave, and he jerked his head in the direction of Tony to tell the other man to grab him.

The guy gripped Tony harshly by the under arm. "Okay, this is unnecessary," Tony said as he tried to jerk away.

"Knowing you, it's really not. Be glad you’re not cuffed."

Tony rolled his eyes. Ross looked at him dead on. "Advice, Stark. If you have anything planned, don't."

"All I want is to see the kid."

"So you said... And you will. Then you will tell me the others’ location. I send scouts out to confirm what you say. Then I release the kid. If, Stark, it doesn't go exactly like that, you'll be in one of these cells so quickly your head will spin. Spider-Man will remain in prison as long as I think he should," Tony grimaced and Ross kept pushing, "and any idea of a saving grace to get him out would have been shot."

Tony reeled. He disguised any fear his face may have shown and hardened his expression. "Just take me to the kid, Ross."

Ross sneered. "First, as a last bit of discouragement, know that the collar that once remained around Maximoff's neck, now resides on Parker's. One slip up, Stark, it won't be you that pays for it."

At first, Tony looked at Ross strongly, loaded with hatred. Quickly enough, however his eyes cast down, Tony rethinking how the rest of his time on this god forsaken place might go. He didn't mean to consider it, he didn't want to consider it, and he probably wouldn't make any decision until the time came, but he sure as hell couldn't deny the voice in his head this time; the voice that kept reminding him he'd trade the all the Avengers’ freedom for Peter's in a heartbeat. The voice that reminded him that staying loyal to people that turned their backs on him months ago meant squat if Peter Parker became collateral.

Ross brought him back to the moment. "Let's go." And the asshole gripping him by the arm jerked forward.

Chapter Text

Three beeps rang in everyone’s ears.

“That’s Tony. Radar is down,” said Cap, “Everyone, grab onto something.”

Rhodey tightened his own seatbelt before launching the Quinjet into a rapid acceleration. They had hundreds of miles to cover within a few minutes.

Advice Stark, if you have anything planned, don’t, they heard from Tony’s side of the comm.

As if that did anything to deter them. They listened to the conversation for a bit longer, everyone shocked by Ross’s final words:

One slip up, Stark, it won’t be you that pays for it.

It was a reminder that Ross had the upper-hand— a child.

A reminder that they couldn’t afford to have anything go wrong.

Natasha was the first one to move on, changing topics quickly. She knew worrying would do nothing but lead someone to make a mistake. She stood from her seat, still gripping the handle above it.

“There are a lot of procedures the agents on the Raft go through to be ready to submerge the prison. They have to make sure everything is secure, there can’t be any potential of a water leak or it risks catastrophic damage. All the procedures take time,” explained Nat, “We’ll use it. We want to be off the roof of the prison before it starts to lower.”

Steve joined in on the change of subject, “We have about ten minutes until it does, it’ll take us seven to get there, with luck, we’ll have time to spare. There’re two hatch doors used for maintenance, we’re going to the one closest to the security room.

“When we get to Ross, we have to make sure he can’t call for lockdown. If that happens, no door can be unlocked. Which means everyone would have to be with me to get through a door so I can break it open. And, while we don’t know the exact number of guards, Tony estimates around a hundred throughout the prison. If they all come after us, the chances of getting back to our exit through all that drop tremendously.”

Steve gave out a few more reminders about every person’s role as they got closer and closer to the prison, eventually switching to a more casual conversation just to kill time and lighten the atmosphere.

As the last minute came, Steve addressed the team one more time, “Remember, don’t confront any agents, they can send word to Ross easily. Nat tells everyone what route to take, got it?"

They nodded.

“Okay,” finished Steve, “We’ll be at the Raft in half a minute. Be ready.”

***

Ross led to Tony through halls, staircases, and heavy automatic doors. Luckily, it took some time, since the Avengers could really use as much of that as possible. It felt like ages to Tony, each second ripping him of his already minimal confidence.

We’ll be at the Raft in half a minute. Be ready.

Thank god, Tony thought. Then, he felt a rumble under his feet. His eyes went wide. No. No. No.

The Raft was lowering.

Tony repeated curses to himself, as his heart rate picked up. The Avengers weren’t even at the prison yet. It had been less than seven minutes. The expected was ten. How the hell were they already going under?

***

Cap walked to the front of the Quinjet as they approached the prison. Then, he laid eyes on it through the window.

“Oh god—”

The others rushed from their seat to see what was happening. The Raft was going under.

“Shit,” said Sam.

A few moments passed as they got closer to the prison. Nat looked to Steve, “Can we make it, Cap?”

Rogers paused, weighing the options.

Then, decisively as ever, “Yes.”

He turned from the window and began shouting orders, “Listen up! At the rate it’s moving, the Raft will be underwater in less than a minute. Rhodes, get us as close as you can. Everyone else: Move fast as hell. No going back. No hesitation.” Steve positioned himself by jet’s door, as everyone followed behind him. “If you’re not inside when it goes under, the Raft’s sonar will pick you up, and our cover is blown. Then Tony is screwed and so is the kid.”

Rhodey opened the door. The loudness grew tenfold as the heavy wind whipped inside.

“Move out!” yelled Cap. With a running start, Cap leaped off the jet, landing firmly on the prison. He began sprinting to the hatch, wind currently working against him.

Natasha jumped next.

Reaching the door, Rogers yanked it open, snapping the lock but not the hinge, so to still be able to close it. Natasha dropped inside a second later, landing on the wire flooring in style. Cap yelled to her over the sound of the wind and waves and into his comm set, “Nat, don’t wait for us! Get to the security room ASAP.”

“On it.” She took off.

Wanda arrived a few seconds later. She rushed inside, sliding down the side rails of the hatch’s ladder.

Wanda out of the way, Sam showed up in time to do the same.

Cap started to feel droplets of water flying onto his face. They were too close to the ocean’s surface already.

“Rhodes! How much time we got?” shouted Rogers.

Rhodey, from his higher position, could see the distance from the water to the prison’s roof. “I’d say your pushing ten seconds, Cap!”

Clint dropped straight inside with a skillful landing. Cap was right behind him. He stood one of the ladder’s steps so to reach the hatch’s inner handle. Then, he wrenched it shut before waves of water surged over the hatch.

The slightly broken door began leaking steadily as everyone caught their breath, panting heavily as they collected themselves.

“Stark, we’re inside,” said Steve into his comm.

They used this limited time to take a breather; no one could go anywhere until Natasha got to the security room.

***

Can we make it, Cap.

Tony felt his heart pounding in his ears. Too many moments passed.

Yes.

Tony felt his legs go weak and his body heating up. If they didn't make it...

.... underwater in less than a minute.

Less than a minute before everything chances going to shit.

Tony is screwed and so is the kid.

His head felt heavy, vision blurring. Tony could call it off right now. Less than a minute to come clean to Ross.

Move out!

If he did--if he got ahead of it and told Ross-- maybe the secretary would believe him if Tony said it was always his plan. He planned to lure the Avengers to the Raft and get them caught. Maybe Ross would still let the kid go.

If he didn't, and the others were found, Ross would know Tony always meant to break the kid out. And would never let Peter go.

"Rhodes! How much time we got?"

"I'd say you're pushing ten seconds, Cap!"

God, how could he just put the kid's life at risk for those guys? He had to tell Ross. Right now.

He didn't want to. He wanted to trust his friends to make it through.

Please, please make it.

It got quieter in his ear.

Then,

"Stark, we're inside."

Tony let out a thick breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Something the matter?" asked Ross, a twitch of a smile on the man’s face.

And besides the fact that he was pretty sure he was on the verge of the first anxiety attack he'd had in years, something was definitely the matter. How could Tony have miscalculated the time before submersion so falsely, almost detrimentally? He shook at the idea this might not be the only surprise in store today.

He opted to answer Ross's question out loud before the guilt fully flooded in. The guilt that arose from having risked Peter's life for the Rouges. The guilt that settled and piled in his stomach and made him fucking sick.

"Yeah, actually," Tony assembled a faux composure quickly, "We've been walking around your damn prison for almost ten minutes and, funnily enough, I haven't seen my kid."

Ross chuckled humorlessly. Then he stopped in front of a heavy metal door, waved his badge at the handle and the door unlocked.

He gestured for Tony to enter first, so he did. It felt like walking into an asylum, but one with gray metal walls that sent a chill down Tony's spine. Florescent lights illuminated the medium-sized room. And the attached room. The room that held Peter.

His hand rose to his ear instinctively. Three beeps to notify the others. Then, the anger set in.

Tony balled his hands into fists and his nails dug into his palm. “What the hell did you do to him,” he gritted.

“Ice bath. Didn’t have many options left,”

Tony would've shaken at the idea of what options Ross may have gone through, if all his emotions weren’t instead being filtered into rage.

“The sooner you give me what I want, the sooner you can have the kid.”

Tony only saw red but through the haze and the nail marks on his hand, he relied on some instinct to just carry him through the exchange and tell Ross what he wanted to hear. “I have coordinates.”

Ross reached into the inside of his suit jacket, revealing a small note pad and pen. He reached to give it to Tony, while the other jerked it out of his hand.

Tony scribbled down numbers, slightly struggling with the handcuffs.

“Outside Saint Petersburg.”

“Really.” Ross questioned, squinting, “Russia.”

“No, Sherlock, south Florida,” Tony deadpanned sarcastically, “they like the theme parks.”

Ross sent him a glare that Tony couldn’t even take pleasure in provoking. Not with the kid still here. Tony handed the notepad back.

“And why, pray tell, would the Rogue Avengers be in Russia?

Because it's far enough away that it’ll take time for your agents to get there, but not so obscure you’ll get too suspicious.

“How should I know, Ross? I found them, now you let me have the kid.”

“Not quite how this works. I get agents to confirm the whereabouts, then he’s yours.”

Tony guessed Ross would have a few agents in Russia, but he estimated at least twenty to thirty minutes for any of them to get there. Though, he sure as hell can’t pretend the earlier scare didn’t shake his confidence. He prayed to the God he didn’t believe in, that it would take that long. Because, right now, they could use as much time as possible.

“Let me talk to him.”

Ross studied the other for a second, maybe it was a pity that made Ross walk to the door beside the (clearly one-way glass) window, swipe his badge and open the door.

Tony’s legs carried him through the doorway before his mind even caught up with his legs. He found Peter’s eyes staring up at him. Tony rushed to him, kneeling by the chair to look up at him.

The kid was clearly tearing up and the man felt his chest tighten. Peter opened his mouth seeming to want to say something, but nothing came out. Tony started instead:

“Hey, kid.”

*

The Rouge Avengers were currently standing on a wire catwalk. The whole room extended for a while, basically meant to be a layer between the actual prison and the water surrounding it. Massive structural beams and metal walkways surrounded them, the latter meant only for maintenance since no one else was actually in the scope. Everything around them was lit by crimson bulbs, flooding the distance in an unsettling red hue.

The weight of the water kept the hatch door closed, but the damage still meant it leaked rapidly, which was the only sound to fill the room.

A set of wire stairs would bring them to the exit below, allowing them to enter the prison; Steve prepared for its use.

“Okay, Nat’s on her way to the security room,” said Cap to the team, “as soon as she’s there, Wanda and I are out of here. Clint, Sam, anyone shows up, the priority is preventing them from notifying Ross. Be discrete. ”

“Got it,” said Sam.

“Nat,” Steve said over the comm, “how’s it going?”

She was whispering. “Guards are sparse, so are cameras, but the father I go, the more there are. It’ll take some time”

“How long?”

“Maybe ten minutes. Max.”

“Roger that.”

Steve considered the situation for a moment. He flicked the phone to display the layout of the Raft. Tony’s location was blinking blue. Then, three beeps went off in his ear, and he listened in to Tony’s side of the comm,

What the hell did you do to him?

Ice bath.

Steve cursed to himself, he looked up to see the other’s faces were just as shocked. Steve decidedly spoke over Tony’s side. “Okay, Stark has eyes on the kid. Nat, is it clear enough for Wanda and me to head out before the security room is secured?”

“Right outside your exit is, but again it’ll get tighter. Give me a few more minutes, then head out.”

“You have five. Get as close as you can, but we're too tight on time to wait any longer than that.”

“Copy.”

And Tony’s side of the comm filled their ears again.

*

“Hey, kid.”

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony put his hand on Peter’s trying his best to ignore the fact that the second's was currently tied down, and his own was in one half a handcuff. “I’m getting you out of here, alright?” Tony spoke softly, “We can’t leave right now, but we will soon, I promise.”

Peter began tearing up, frowning, and mumbling something brokenly.

The kid shook his head sharply and his voice cracked saying, “You can’t, Mr. Stark." He sucked in a breath. “Please, please don’t.”

Tony scrunched his eyebrows at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I know I’m… that I’m leverage. He wants the Rouges, please don’t—" He kept shaking his head anxiously, "don’t send them to prison. Not for me.” Peter’s voice shook, but Tony could hear the seriousness in it.

No one was going to prison for Peter, the man just wished he could tell him that.

And even if they were! Is the kid crazy? Tony would never leave him in here. Not for anyone.

“Kid, whatever happens, it’s on me. None of this is your fault. Not one goddamn bit of it. Got it?” He wanted to say more.

Peter just turned slightly away from him and squeezed his eyes shut.

Tony moved his thumb back and forth on the kid’s hand as some display of affection, but the man wished for nothing more than to simply take the kid home.

Just a little while longer he thought. Then, Hopefully.

Tony raised off his knee so to sit back against the wall instead, facing the kid.

Peter’s clothes were still damp, and his hair was matted against his head messily. The color appeared to have long drained from his skin. His under-eyes looked red and Tony knew the kid must have been crying. Tony promised himself: As soon as he got the chance, he’d make Ross pay for that.

“I’m sorry, Peter… Just a little while longer, alright?”

***

The five minutes were up.

“Nat,” said Steve through the comm, “Wanda and I are on our way out.” Natasha gave a quick okay in return and Cap turned to Wanda, “You ready?”

“Always.”

The soldier gave her a nod before looking to Clint and Sam.

Clint told him reassuringly, “We’ll be here." He put his hand on Cap's shoulder, "Give Ross a nice right-hook for me, will ya?”

Cap smirked. He pulled up the blueprints on the device, Tony’s location continued blinking blue while theirs now blinked red. “Okay, Wanda," He put the device away, "Let’s go.”