Archive of Our Own

Even before the phone call comes through, Tony knows something is wrong. 

Pepper will say he's being paranoid, which is exactly why he doesn't say anything when the clock hits three o clock. Peter is at school, and would be staying with his aunt for the weekend anyway. There's no cause of this worry, the twinge of anxiety he just can't shake. 

But he doesn't say anything, shoving back at the feeling.

Two hours later, his phone rings. 

May doesn't even let him speak before she's talking. 

"Peter's with you, right?"

The deep set anxiety that's been simmering in his body for the last two hours shifts slightly, giving way to a dread that settles into his stomach like lead. 

"No. He told me he was staying with you this weekend." A beat of silence. "He's not home yet?"

He hears May swallow over the phone, and she speaks again, her voice wavering with the same fear he can feel growing by the second. 

"No. Ned came round to find him, wanted to do some sort of lego thing." She takes a shuddering breath. "He hasn't come home from school Tony."

It's his job to be the calm one in this situation, he knows that. 

Breathe . 

"I'm sure everything's fine. I'll give Karen a call, see if he's put the suit on today or not. He's probably on his way home now." The quiet between them is deafening. Tony fights to keep his voice steady. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear, okay?"

"Thank you."

He hears a click that tells him the call has ended. 

It only takes Tony thirty seconds to confirm what he already knows, or what the fear knows at least. No, Peter hasn't been in his suit since two am the previous night. Paranoid , a voice whispers in his ear, and he suspects it's right. 

But he will be paranoid a thousand times over if it means that everyone is safe, if it means that Peter is safe. 

"FRIDAY, can you get Nat in here?"

"Miss Romanoff has been alerted."

Some of the fear stills as he hears footsteps on the stairs, and a second later, Nat pushes open the door. 

"Tony?"

There must be something on his face to betray what he's feeling, because her expression changes as soon as she sees him. 

"What happened." It's more of a command than a question. Dimly, Tony realises his hands are shaking, and curls them into fists, feeling the overwhelming desire to hit something. 

"I don't know." His voice remains steady, despite the raging turmoil of emotions that is only growing by the second. "I don't know. But that Peter hasn't been home yet and he should have been at the apartment two hours ago."

There's a flicker of something that looks a lot like how Tony feels on Natasha's face, but it’s gone in an instant, the mask of the assassin clicking into place. 

"You've called May?" 

He nods, dragging a hand through his hair. "I just got off the phone with her. He hasn't been in his suit since last night." He shakes his head. "I know that I'm probably being paranoid and sound insane right now-"

She cuts him off with a look that reminds him for a second why everyone used to be so terrified of her. Why they all still are, if he's honest. 

"Always better to be safe than sorry."

Something in Tony relaxes at that, and he sits down heavily on the sofa, feeling the exhaustion in his bones. 

His phone rings again. It's a video call.

The shrill noise is jarring in the silence, and Tony flinches, reaching for it with no other thought than to shut it up. 

"Hello."

"Stark." The voice is silky smooth, and Tony's heart drops into his stomach. He flicks his phone, and the call transfers to FRIDAY, switching to speaker phone. The video comes to life on the wall in front of them, and Natasha slides out of the shot. The feeling of dread increases. There's no way that Thaddeus fucking Ross is just calling for a catch up.

"Mr Secretary. What can I do for you?" His voice is calm, steady in a way that he's been perfecting for years. 

"I trust you made a full recovery after... everything that happened." The man is smiling, Tony notices. It's a shark's smile.

"Evidently, yes." He can't stop a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone, but he knows Ross isn't here to ask after his wellbeing. 

He hasn't heard from the secretary of state since before Thanos. Maybe he had ignored a few calls and maybe he had put him on hold a couple of times. But the accords were over, he had all but officially retired, and honestly, he didn't have the will or the energy to deal with political parasites like Ross.

"I'm glad." The man clears his throat, that smile still in place. "Well Stark, I'll cut straight to the chase. I require a favour."

Tony just about manages to hold back a laugh. "Right. I'll skip all the pleasantries and say no thank you very much now, before you waste any more time trying to convince me. I don't have time to deal with this shit."

Ross just shrugs, smile widening. "Oh yes, I forgot that you have other responsibilities now, don't you? Children do tend to take up rather a lot of time. Especially teenagers.”

Every part of his body stills. 

Breathe . 

He fights for control of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Natasha on his work station with a computer, recording the call. 

"I'm a busy man."

The secretary hums, flipping through a file on his desk. "Oh I’m sure. Why don’t you tell me a bit about Peter Parker? That boy really is a genius, isn’t he? Quite an incredible SAT score if you ask me." There’s a tight knot of tension in his chest, and he can feel something cold in the pit of his stomach. "I don't know how he does it Stark, between all the extra-curricular swinging around Queens. It would be such a shame if something happened to him, wouldn't it?"

Panic is flaring in his chest, but he shoved it away. "Stay the hell away from him. He's got nothing to do with any of this." So much for keeping his voice neutral, but he’s past caring now.

Ross shrugs again. "Enhanced individuals, they are fascinating, aren't they?"

"What do you want Ross?"

"I see you're much more willing to discuss this favour. Excellent. Well honestly Stark, it doesn't really involve you doing anything. 

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Natasha shoots him a warning look that he almost misses, but he gets the message. Don't piss him off until we know more. The man goes on, and Tony's fingers are still curled around the phone. He can feel it digging uncomfortably into his skin. He wonders if he actually has the strength to break it.

"You see Stark, I thought I was above the more... petty aspects of life. Like revenge. It would seem not. I caught wind of an unauthorised vigilante on the streets of New York, and did some digging." He smiles. "And when I discovered exactly who was under the mask, it was quite a revelation, as you can imagine. It just turns out that this little spider was the most easily accessible chink in your armour. It’s a two part plan. Let me enlighten you. Part one is figure out what exactly makes spider-man tick. Part two well… that’s the petty part. It just so happens that I managed to overlap both halves.”

Breathe, breathe, breathe

Ross's tone is laced with amusement. "I expect you'll be more cooperative with any needs of the future that may arise Stark."

"Where. Is. He." 

Because he knows. He knows now, without a doubt, that Ross has Peter. He has his kid. The secretary finally meets his eyes again, and he knows the other man can see the fear on Tony's face, even through the walls he's put up. Ross reaches forwards, pressing a button on the wall. Then he speaks. 

"Do me a favour and bring the enhanced in for a second. Has he put up much of a fight?" There is silence. Tony can hear the blood thundering in his ears. "Perfect."

Nat moves to stand next to him, finally revealing that she's in the room. Ross's expression doesn't falter.

"Miss Romanoff, always a pleasure." 

She doesn't answer, and Tony is grateful for that. He feels her hand settle on his shoulder, gripping hard, grounding him.

Then a figure is pulled in front of the camera, and Tony's heart shudders to a stop in his chest. 

Danger by proximity. That's always been the risk with him. Peace is indefinite, and he knows that. He knows . Around the panic raging through him, Tony thinks back to something Natasha had said once, at a time where they had both been unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

It's dangerous to have a heart , she had said to him.

Tony had asked why, his brain not fully shifting into gear because of the fog of exhaustion that came with being awake at three in the morning.  She had just smiled, something unbelievably sad in her eyes.

It gives the bad guys something to shoot at.

He knows. He knows that now.

Peter's arms and legs are bound with a metal that looks all too familiar. Vibranium , his brain supplies. There are bruises blooming across his cheek, and his face is stained with blood.

But what really makes Tony want to throw up is the look in the kid’s eyes. 

They’re blown to hell, wide and unfocused. He's been drugged out of his mind, and there's something so fundamentally wrong about the lack of anything in his gaze. If there hadn't been two guards holding him up, Tony suspected he would be on the floor. 

It's the pain of Nat's hand tightening on his shoulder that snaps him out of his horror. He glances up at her, and her expression is tight with a mix of panic and anger that makes his heart ache. There’s a darkness in her eyes that sends a flicker of fear through the billionaire, and he’s not even the one on the receiving end of it. The last time his friend had an expression like this was when they had faced down thanos. 

Somehow, this time, the fear is worse. 

Then the rage hits, a visceral urge to protect shooting through him. He's on his feet in a second, taking a step towards the screen, throwing Nat’s hand off his shoulder. The feeling of helplessness is so strong it makes his head spin, and his voice is a snarl.

"What the fuck did you do to him?”

A low whine is dragged out of Peter at the sudden noise, and Tony's chest tightens at the sound. He hears Nat inhale sharply behind him, but Ross just laughs quietly, reaching out and brushing some of Peter's hair away from his face. The tenderness in the gesture makes bile rise in his throat as the Secretary speaks. 

"Why don't you say hi to Tony, hm?"

Peter blinks slowly, slumped against one of the men holding him up. He feels a hand close around his arm. Nat. She’s murmuring a warning, probably something logical that he should listen to. But he doesn’t care. All he can see is Peter. Peter drugged, Peter hurt, Peter bleeding. 

"I swear to god Ross if you lay one fucking hand on him- "

The man cuts smoothly across him, running a thumb over Peter's cheek. The teen flinches away, his body sensing the danger as his metabolism frantically tries to fight the drugs. 

"You'll what Stark? Threaten me some more? Something tells me you’ll be a lot less stubborn with him over here and you over there.”

"He's a sixteen year old kid. Let him go ."

He knows it's futile. Ross has acquired the best sort of leverage. He won't be letting Peter go any time soon. Dimly, he realises that Natasha’s grip on his arm had tightened to the point of pain, though he’s not even sure she realises. 

Ross just smiles. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. I have a lot to learn about your little pet Stark. It's a shame really, he seems like a sweet kid. Of course, he wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for your impressive ability to piss me off."

"I'm going to kill you."

Ross holds out his hand and one of the guards passes him a small remote. With a detached sort of curiosity on his face, he pushes the button. 

Peter jolts violently in their grip, muscles seizing, and the men let him fall. The noise of his knees colliding with the floor hits tony like a physical blow. Tony is dimly aware of someone shouting, and then he realises its him. A split second Natasha is there, her grip like iron on his arms. She’s pulling him backwards, saying something into his ear and preventing him from lunging at the screen as if he could reach through it and kill Ross where he stands. After what could have been years or a fraction of a second, Ross takes his finger off the button and the men haul Peter roughly to his feet.

"Electric cuffs," Ross's tone is conversational, like they're having a chat about the fucking weather instead of the fact that he's torturing a sixteen year old. "Quite useful when dealing with enhanced individuals."

Tony’s chest is heaving, can feel nothing in his body but panic. "You-"

Ross lifts his finger again, hovering it over the button. "Yes?"

Tony's jaw clenches, but he doesn't finish the sentence, gaze locked on the kid. Peter is blinking rapidly, breath coming in short gasps as he struggles for air. 

"Better Stark. Much better. Maybe you'll learn to show some respect after all. I look forward to finding out exactly what makes your little pet tick. Have an excellent day."

" Wait- "

The call cuts off.  

He's left staring at the screen, the image of Peter's wide unfocused eyes burned into the forefront of his mind. He suspects that image wouldn't leave his dreams for a long time. 

"Tony." 

That's Nat, her voice soft in a way that he hasn’t heard in a while.

" God- "  The panic attack hits him faster than he expects it to, and suddenly he can't breathe. His head spins, and everything feels a million miles away. A door slams open, and then there's someone next to him, lifting him to his feet, pulling him out into the evening air. The cold is biting at his skin, but somehow he's still bathed in sweat. The image of Ross's finger on that button, of Peter's eyes- Tony's on his knees, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the grass as the dew from the ground soaks through his clothes. There are hands on his arms now, hands that he was once afraid of, and now feel like safety. Friendship. 

"Breathe Tony." Steve's voice is a murmur. "Get it out."

" Steve ," he manages to gasp out, fingers clenched around the fabric of his shirt. "Ross- He... he-"

"I know. I know, okay? We'll get him back."

He shakes his head. Closing his eyes doesn't help, only reminds him in shocking clarity of the look on Ross's face as he pushed that button. He could be doing that now, he could be doing anything, he could be killing him-

"Tony." Steve's voice is surer now, the voice of a commander. "We're going to find him."

He finds himself nodding, the conviction in his friend's voice unfaltering. 

Breathe. You're not helping him like this. 

The panic starts to fade. In its place is a cold anger that takes over his body like ice.

"Okay." He sucks in a breath, using shaking hands to push himself to his feet. "Okay." 

Steve just looks at him, and there's an anger in his eyes that Tony hasn't seen before. "He's under no legal jurisdiction to do any of this. That makes it easier for us. We just need to find him."

Tony nods again, and then swallows hard, running a hand through his hair. 

"Sorry for... all of that."

Steve shakes his head, keeping his arm securely around Tony. "No need to apologise. You're well within your right." Tony sees his eyes harden in the dim light. "Come on. The others will have arrived by now."

"The others?"

Steve smiles slightly, but there's no humour in the gesture. "I got an emergency alert about it. It seems Nat programmed everyone's phones to receive an alarm that wouldn't shut the hell up if anything ever happened to Peter."

Tony blinks at him, looking back towards the house. He can see Natasha in the window, phone glued to her ear. There's a barely concealed rage on her face. He thinks back to the conversation that was only a few weeks ago. 

Thank you for bringing him into our lives . 

Tony squares his shoulders. "Taking down the secretary of state won't be simple."

"You're Tony Stark."

"That I am."

The two of them walk back inside, and as they enter, the front room contains the same amount of energy as a small hurricane. 

He sees Pepper immediately in the chaos, and she gives him a sad smile, nodding towards the stairs and lifting her thumbs up. Good. Morgan is asleep, which is a small blessing at least. 

Over the other side of the room, Wanda is standing and using her magic to make food for the team. Clint has set up a laptop on the kitchen table.The screen is running through the news with the help of FRIDAY, scanning for any sort of clue. Wanda has half her attention on the computer set up next to her, and is scrolling through a camera feed on her phone with one hand as red light pulls things out of the fridge on her command. Tony can’t imagine eating right now, but he’s grateful all the same. 

Rhodey and Natasha are both on the phone, and he can see Rhodey struggling to keep his cool. Natasha’s conversation floats into range, her usually calm voice edged with something sharp and deadly. 

“No, we’ve established that I don’t give two shits about our legal limitations in this situation. I'm pretty sure kidnapping charges trump most things.” She fell silent for a second, clearly listening to-

“That’s the biggest pile of shit I’ve heard in a while, and I had to listen to thanos monologue about world fucking domination. Let me remind you that requesting permission was merely a formality, and that you have zero ground to stand on in this situation.”

Despite the heat of her words, her voice is ice cold, and Tony is reminded that she was the black widow log before she was his friend. A part of him feels bad for whoever is on the phone to her right now. That part of him doesn't last very long. 

"FRIDAY?" He wills his voice into steel

"Yes boss?"

“I need you to-” How does he even begin to go about this? “I need you to put me through to a call with May Parker.” 

He feels a pressure at his elbow, and turns to see Steve shaking his head. 

“Rhodey called her, explained it all. Happy’s gone round to sit with her. We said we would call back as soon as we know more, but that the best thing she could do was let us deal with the whole situation as quickly as possible.”

“Steve, this is his aunt. ”

The captain nods, regret in his eyes. “I know. But she can’t do anything until we get Peter back.”

“Did you show her the call recordings?”

“No. I didn’t think that would help the panic levels.”

Tony nods slowly, releasing a breath. He’s beyond grateful, in the most selfish way possible, that its Rhodey who called, and that the responsibility was taken away from him. He turns his attention back to the room.

"Okay FRIDAY. Continue helping Barton and Maximoff with the scans. Then get what you need ready for protocol 194.

"Protocol 194?" That's Steve, looking faintly curious. 

Tony nods, fingers tapping against the watch on his wrist. He's full of nervous energy that he can't shake, not that there would be any use in trying. 

"Made it years ago, just in case we had another accords fiasco and I needed to access any SHIELD intel."

"Tony, that's-"

"Illegal?" His voice is flat, and he locks eyes with Steve, not bothering to hide the whirlwind of emotions inside of him. "This is my kid."

"I know Tony, just consider-"

"Consider what?" He snaps. "That Ross is currently torturing a child ?" His voice has risen despite himself, despite the hold that he thought he had on the anger. "That he's experimenting on someone who's done absolutely nothing to deserve it and that its without a doubt my fault , because I couldn't keep my goddam ego in check, and now a sixteen year old is paying for my mistakes !" And suddenly there just isn't enough air in the room, and all he can think is oh god not again before Steve is taking a step towards him, so much pain in his eyes. 

"Tony-"

"Don't." He says roughly. "Don't fucking tell me it's not my fault Steve, because it is."

He was wrong. It's not anger that's been breaking him apart for the last hour. It's guilt. 

The rest of the room has gone quiet, but Tony doesn’t care. He turns to Nat, daring her to comment. But she’s known him long enough not to judge, and instead slips into place next to him. 

“I just got off the phone with an old friend who used to work with Ross.” Her expression darkens. “He claims to know nothing. He’s lying. He said we aren’t in a legal position to go bursting into private government property. I told him to shove it up his ass.”

The part of Tony that isn’t completely overrun by blind panic, feels an overwhelming amount of gratitude to Nat, someone who’s never left his side.

“Good,” he says, and he thinks she smiles. It’s the kind of smile that gives him the urge to run. 

His attention is drawn to where Wanda is standing by the table. 

“FRIDAY, you’re running through all this news right?”

“Yes boss. I have been unsuccessful in accessing any of the cameras by Mr Parker’s school and route home, so I can only make the assumption that any helpful footage has been wiped.”

“Is there any way to recover it?”

There is a second of silence, and then the AI’s voice comes back, containing something that sounds a lot like regret. 

“I’m sorry boss, but I am unable to recover the footage.”

Tony shakes his head, mind working fast. “Don’t worry. Ross knows what he’s doing.”

“Ross?”

He glances towards Wanda, and Nat shoots her a look when the lights in the room flare red for a second. It seems they haven’t all been filled in on the situation. And it also seems that Wanda still hates Ross’s guts. 

Good. 

“Yeah. He kidnapped my kid.” He isn’t sure when Peter went from the kid to his kid, but no one questions it, and a part of Tony wonders if it’s been this way the whole time.

It’s dangerous to have a heart. 

He squashes the memory of Peter’s empty eyes before it can take root, and turns back to the team. Steve is the first one to speak. 

“You don’t think he’s on the raft?”

He shakes his head. “Ross wouldn’t be stupid enough to put him there, especially after he suspects I was the one who hacked into it.”

“You hacked into the raft?”

“Story for another time. Point is, Peter won’t be there.”

Nat who cuts smoothly into the conversation, because of course she already understands Tony’s plan before he explains it. 

“Ross knew a hell of a lot about Peter, and a lot of that information is classified. Some of it he could have only gained access to through Tony’s private server. I made a point of covering everything with Peter. The only way he could have accessed what he has is through hacking, that I can assure you. He’s watching every move we make online. He’s also not stupid. We need to move fast, and we need to cover our tracks.”

Clint raises a hand and Tony resists the urge to snap that its not fucking middle school.

“Barton?” His voice is tight. With anger or guilt, he isn’t sure anymore. 

“Didn’t you break into the raft once? Why can you not just hack in again, get the information we need.”

Tony shakes his head, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers on the closest surface. “The process is still the same, but there would be more security. I don’t know if I could get in without setting off any alarms, and that’s not a risk I’m willing to take while he still has Peter as leverage.”

Clint nods, half his attention returning to the screen. “So we need to find him. And then we go.”

“Yes.. Trust me, the second I can get a way in there that will guarantee that Peter gets out safely again, I’ll fly in myself.”

“Tony.” That’s Steve again, damn him. “You’re not flying off without backup.”

Tony is reminded in an almost hilarious flash of clarity of the first time him and Steve had an argument. 

You’re not the one to make the sacrifice play.

Everything special about you came out of a bottle. 

They had been angry, stupid, inexperienced. 

They had both been wrong, in the end. He could only hope that they weren’t wrong about this. 

“This is my kid,” he said again, meeting Steve’s gaze. “When we find him, you’re not stopping me.”

Something flickered in Steve’s gaze, and he knew the soldier was remembering that conversation too. 

Rhodey is talking now, always the peacekeeper. Always a steady presence. “If we run in blind, he has the advantage.” He glances at Tony, regret in his eyes. “Ross, without a doubt, took him to hit Tony where it hurts. It proves he’s not above revenge-”

“Already knew that.” Wanda mutters, and Tony has to hold back a noise of agreement. 

“So we need to be careful,” Rhodey finishes, looking around at them all. “That means we don’t go in there based off emotions. We don’t take risks. We treat it like a mission.”

Tony nods, despite the near uncontrollable urge to get his suit and go and rip Ross into tiny pieces. 

“Fine.”

That seems to be an unofficial dismissal for everyone, and Rhodey makes his way over, face lined with tension. 

“Hey Tones.”

Its funny how, after everything that had happened in the last few hours, it’s his best friend calling him a nickname that’s been in use for over twenty years that nearly breaks him. 

“Thanks for getting here.”

Rhodey just nods, and a before Tony can blink, he’s being pulled into a tight hug. He can hear his friend’s heartbeat, and that, above all things, is what allows him to breathe. 

“We’ll get him back.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because it's true Tones.” Rhodey pulls away to look at him, his eyes steely with determination. “Are you seriously saying the Avengers can’t take down one parasite of a politician?”

But it’s different this time, and they both know it. Everyone does. Tony doesn’t say anything, but Rhodey, as always, see’s the response in his eyes. 

“Tony, this isn’t your fault,”  Rhodey says quietly, hands gripping his arms. “I know what your ridiculous guilt complex does to you. But this isn’t on you.”

He shakes his head, throat feeling tight again. “You didn’t see his eyes Rhodey. Everything that Ross does to him is because he’s trying to hurt me. Danger by association. Peter never would have been dragged into this life if I had kept away.”

Rhodey’s grip tightens. “That’s bullshit Tones, you know it. It’s no ones fault apart from Ross’s, though I suspect your kid is going to be blaming himself until he dies for allowing himself to get kidnapped in the first place."

Tony shoots him a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. The anger is reserved for one person. The rest of him is made up of guilt and exhaustion. “Lets not joke about that yet.”

Rhodey winces slightly. “Sorry. But it’s not your fault okay? Just trust me on that one. Please.”

Tony looks at his friend, searching for the lie in his eyes. There isn’t one, there never is with Rhodey. Not about this. 

“I-”

The rest of his sentence is cut off by a shout from Wanda. 

A shout that sounds a lot like Fire Island. 

Tony is across the room in seconds, snapping a command at FRIDAY to keep the connection running at full power. 

“You found him?” He can hear the desperation in his own voice.

Wanda pushes the laptop screen towards him, backing away. “It flashed up. I don’t know what it’s saying apart from that.”

Tony slides into her now vacant seat, eyes scanning through the streams of code flashing across the screen. FRIDAY managed to hack the SHIELD files that he had been talking about, and it’s resulted in a hell of a lot of numbers. 

Natasha is in the seat next to him now, looking over his shoulder. 

“Most of it is encrypted. Can you decode it?”

Tony shook his head. “We don’t need to. I asked FRIDAY to scan for places, specific names that I’ve logged. Including anywhere within a three hour travel radius of New York” A flicker of hope in his chest. “Fire island. There’s a tiny secret government base on fucking Fire Island .”

Steve shakes his head, staring at the screen without seeing. “It would make sense. It’s busy enough in the summer that anyone would blend in, and empty enough in the winter that they can close off the entrances to the island without arousing suspicion."

Tony laughs humourlessly. “How the hell did we not know there was a government base on fire island?”

Natasha runs a hand through her hair. “They kept it well hidden apparently. But we can’t guarantee Ross has taken him there.”

Tony spun to her so fast his neck clicked. 

“Where else would he have taken him? We need to go now.”

She stands, and so does he. The room has gone quiet again. 

“We can’t say for sure it’s not a trap. Think this through Tony.”

He shakes his head. “You’re saying you want me to wait. For what? Ross to call back? A photo? Some sort of other confirmation?” He’s never been spiritual, but he is so sure of this fact, surer than anything. “If we wait, it will be too late.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do-” He breaks off, frustration curling in his chest like some sort of poison. They don’t understand, how could they? He turns away, suddenly needing to get out, get out of the room. He hears Steve say his name quietly, but he ignores him. No one follows him as he leaves, stepping out into the cool night air. 

He doesn’t know where he’s heading exactly, but what he does know is that FRIDAY has sent the coordinates of the base on Fire Island to his suit, and he can call it in seconds. He would be gone before any of the others realised he had left, and not here wasting time. 

Rhodey was right when he said that if Tony goes and breaks in without a plan, without confirmation, without anything , it wasn’t going to end well. 

He knows. But he doesn’t care. 

All he can see is Peter. Peter’s eyes, empty of everything other than the shit that Ross pumped into his body, empty of the energy that never failed to make Tony smile. There’s a dull ache of panic in his chest, but it’s muted by the guilt. It was his job to protect Peter. He failed. 

A second later, the gauntlet is forming around his arm, and before he can get himself under control, there’s a smoking hole in the ground next to him. A voice behind him should have made him jump, but he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Don’t take it out on the trees Tony.”

Of course. Of fucking course she had followed him outside. She saw everything after all. 

“What do you want Tasha?”

His voice is harsher than he intends it to be, but he can’t muster the energy to apologise. Her tone doesn’t change though, still the unfaltering calm that he knows it to be. 

“To tell you not to go and be an idiot.”

He turns to face her, raising his eyebrows. “Oh?”

She folds her arms, and Tony knows that there’s no way he’s getting past her to get to Peter, even with the suit. 

“You’re not going to fly off and find him alone. You’re not going to get yourself killed.”

Everything is too much. Too loud, too bright, too painful. Maybe he’s breaking, it certainly feels like it.

“I can’t just-“ he’s ashamed of how weak his voice sounds. “I won’t leave him for a second longer than necessary, do you understand that?”

She takes a step towards him, and almost on instinct, Tony takes a step backwards. Her voice is a low snarl, and dimly, Tony realises this is the only time he’s ever seen her perfect composure slip. 

“You’re not going to go and get yourself killed in a suicide rescue mission. If you go and Ross gets you, Peter is dead.”

He just stares at her, not comprehending the words. Releasing a sound that sounds a lot like a hiss of frustration, she grabs his arm. Her voice has risen slightly, grip tighter than he expected.

“Tony. Listen to me. If you go, he will hurt him and make you watch. And then after you’ve seen your child put through every kind of pain imaginable, he will kill him in front of you. And then he’ll let you go, and you’ll live the rest of your life knowing you could have stopped it.”

Something inside him snaps, and suddenly he wants to scream. He wonders why no one else in the world can hear the sound of a part of him shattering on a cold November evening.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t already know this entire situation is my fault? He took him because of me. He’s hurting him because of me .” His voice breaks, and he feels like a child, a child desperate to wake up from this nightmare. “I can’t let him die because of me too.”

“He won’t kill him yet,” she says, and it’s quieter now. Somehow, that’s more terrifying. “He won’t kill him until you get there, because that’s what he wants Tony. He wants you to go charging in, and he wants you to break. Don’t give him what he wants.”

“I was supposed to protect him.” The words are torn out of him, and he realises he’s shaking. He clenches his eyes shut, biting back a sob. “It’s my fucking job to protect him and I didn’t. it was the only goddamn thing I had to do and I failed .”

Her voice is softer, and her grip on his arm loosens. “You couldn’t have stopped this Tony, Ross has probably been planning this for months.”

He shakes his head, chest tight. “God Nat, his eyes. I can’t get it out of my head.”

“I know.” And he knows she does, because he saw the same panic in her eyes during that video, and he knows that she loves Peter, perhaps more than she realises it herself. 

Silence falls between them, and Tony doesn’t have to ask to know how she knows so much about how Ross’s mind works. Natasha, perhaps more than anyone, is someone who understands that the real monsters in their world wear suits and cologne, and wield power as a weapon. 

He isn’t sure why he says it, but the words slip into the space between them, unbidden. 

“It’s dangerous to have a heart.”

She catches his eyes, and he knows she remembers. 

It gives the bad guys something to shoot at.

They both know that now. 

Natasha doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to make him feel better. She just stands with him by the lake and waits. 

The last of any lingering light disappears behind the water, and night falls. 

-

It’s almost four in the morning when Nat leaps to her feet, nearly tipping the computer off the table. Tony is up from the spot he’s claimed on the sofa in seconds, blinking the sleep from his eyes and lunging towards the laptop. 

“What happened?”

Nat is typing furiously, shouting for Steve to get his ass over to the table.

“We found him,” she said between keystrokes. “Some random tourists spotted a vehicle on Fire Island a couple of hours ago, and I just managed to access one of the cameras from a convenience store on the main route. The vans match.”

Tony frowns, not understanding. “But how does that prove-”

Natasha shoves the computer towards him, grabbing for her phone with the other hand.

“I emailed a contact at the police station near Peter’s school, because I thought that their cameras would be a little more reliable seeing as they're virtually un-hackable.”

Tony makes a time out sign. “Sorry? Un-hackable?”

She shakes her head. “I made an anonymous donation a month ago to improve their cameras in case of some crazy emergency that would result in us needing to access them. Not important right now.”

He shakes his head, deciding to come back to that particular topic later and scanning through the information on the screen as she goes on. 

“The contact emailed me back this picture.” She shows him the phone screen. It’s the same van. And its parked-

“It was parked outside of Peter’s school for half the day. It vanished at 3:26.”

“ Shit.” his mind is moving at a million miles an hour. “So we know they grabbed him when he was walking home from school. Do we have a way in?”

Steve steps forward, exchanging a look with Nat. “Yes. We do. We were just waiting for confirmation. This is the confirmation.”

Suddenly, it’s like everything is moving at once. In all his years of being part of the team, Tony has never seen everyone collectively move this fast. 

It seems they had already had a conversation about who was staying and who was going, and as Tony bolted for the quinjet, Nat, Steve, Wanda, and Rhodey were hot on his heels. There wasn’t a lot in his head now apart from Peter. They had found his kid. 

Ten minutes later, they’re rising into the air, FRIDAY is transferring coordinates to the plane system, and Steve is trying to get him to sit down. 

“It’s an hour and a half flight Tony. Get your ass into that chair.” 

He concedes defeat, making himself comfortable on one of the benches. The nanoparticle housing unit is heavy on his chest, but he’s grateful for the tech this time. His stomach is churning with nerves, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when Nat’s hand landed on his arm, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“I’m going to take Steve in. Clint will hold perimeter.” She hesitates for a fraction of a second. “I think you should stay here,”

His eyes snap up to her face, his brain not quite comprehending the words he had just heard her say.

“There is no way in hell I'm staying .”

Nat slides into the seat next to him, expression pained. “Tony. It will be faster if just two of us go.”

“So me, and either you or Wanda.”

“You’re-”

“I’m what?” He snaps, feeling a flash of guilt but shoving it away just as fast. “I’m what.”

She’s never been one to hide from the truth with him, so he’s not surprised at the next words out of her mouth. 

“You’re in no condition to do this right now. If you go in there, you’ll fight recklessly, and you won’t be thinking straight, and you’re going to get yourself killed.” 

He just stares at her, struggling to find another reason, another argument. But then he remembers the look on her face when she found the lead, the anger when calling everyone who could possibly have any sort of information on Peter. He locks eyes with her, and something in his brain shifts, adrenaline kicking in. 

“Get him out fast, okay? Ross has too many nasty tricks, and his soldiers are well trained.”

“I can assure you,” she says quietly, “We’re better.”

He can’t smile, not with this much tension in him, but he knows that if he were Ross, he would run.. “Remember the cuffs.” A beat of silence. “And if you see Ross, kill him.”

It’s a credit to the impact that Peter has had on everyone that not one person objects to the idea of killing the Secretary of State, not even Steve. Tony knows that it’s a reckless move, and there will be too many repercussions to even think about right now, but he doesn’t care.

An hour later, his stomach drops as the jet lands outside the base, far enough away that the cameras and sensors can’t pick it up. Rhodey has long since taken up Natasha’s spot next to him, and he’s grateful for the presence of his friend. The others are in gear, faces set in stone. Steve speaks up. 

“This needs to be fast and efficient. No loitering, no hesitating. Get Peter, get out.”

Nat glances at Tony, and he can see the glint of blades strapped to her suit.

“See you in a minute.”

A second later they’re gone, and now all Tony can do is wait. 

-

By the time Natasha reaches the room they’re holding Peter in, the sounds of fighting have long since faded. 

She had meant what she said she’d told Tony that they were better than the guards. 

Ross’s soldiers never stood a chance. 

She could hear distant yelling, broken only by the ringing sound of Steve’s shield hitting metal, and the occasional whoosh of energy that always accompanied Wanda’s magic. 

None of that matters now though. 

The lock on the door is down in seconds, and she feels a flash of rage at the flimsy door, because if it was so easy to get open, that meant they hadn’t ever expected Peter to be able to get to it. 

When she steps into the cell, her heart almost stops. 

There’s blood everywhere. So much blood, too much blood. She sees Peter immediately. He’s cuffed to a metal table in the centre, and as she makes her way towards him, his eyelids flutter open. He’s still wearing jeans, though his shirt is long gone, and his skin is riddled with cuts and bruises. Her stomach churns as she sees the small pinprick of blood on his arm, the result of a needle going in too many times. She reaches his head, brushing blood matted hair away from his face with a touch that is far more gentle than anything he would have received in the past twelve hours.

“Peter?” She whispers, and he blinks up at her, eyes glazed and unfocused. He’s more out of it than he’d been in the video call, and she feels sick.

“May?”

His voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper and her heart aches at the sound. She swallows hard, forcing the surge of emotions down. 

“It’s Nat. We’ve come to get you out of here.”

His eyes slip closed again, and she moves quickly, reaching for the cuffs that are binding his arms and legs to the table. The small locks on them are easy enough to pick, and they click open. The skin underneath is raw and bleeding, and she forces down another wave of anger, lifting Peter gently off the table. Despite being a sixteen year old superhero, he’s surprisingly light, and it isn’t difficult for her to reach the door. 

The base is eerily empty, and she moves as fast as she can through the halls, nearly colliding with Clint as he comes around the corner. He grabs her arm to steady her, glancing at the teenager in her arms. 

“He’s alive.” Not a question, but she nods. 

“Ross?”

Clint’s eyes harden with something a lot like satisfaction. “Dead. Steve killed him.”

Steve. Not who she had been expecting to spill the man’s blood, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter. 

“The cameras?”

Clint shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “Wiped. There’s no evidence of us being here. No one will know how Ross died.”

She nods once, trying to convey with her eyes how grateful she is. Clint gets it, she knows. They’ve worked together for long enough. He tips his head towards the door, looking again at Peter. His fingers have curled around the sleeve of her suit, face buried against her collarbone. 

“Get him out of here.”

Another nod, and then she’s gone, making her way over the wreckage of the door and walking into the night. 

-

“Boss, Miss Romanoff is approaching.”

He’s on his feet in a split second, ignoring Rhodey’s warning, no thoughts in his head as he bolts for the exit.

His heart is thundering in his chest, every atom in his body screaming for his kid. He doesn’t even wait for the doors to open properly before he’s reaching towards Natasha and the figure in her arms as they climb onto the ship. She passes Peter over without hesitation, and he places him gently on the bed in the emergency medbay they have on board. He dimly hears Rhodey talking to the others, getting reports on the situation, but there is only one thing Tony cares about now. 

The feeling of relief is so beyond strong that he stumbles as he moves towards the bed. Nat’s hand wraps around his arm, catching him. He lifts his eyes to meet hers, and she’s covered in blood.

“Ross?” Because he has to ask, he has to know. 

“Dead.” There’s no hesitation in her voice, no warmth. “Steve killed him.”

He nods once, and then turns his attention back to Peter, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his head into his lap. 

“Hey kid,” he whispers, fingers feather light across his face. He can’t stop his hands from trembling as he wipes away the tear stains, dragging the pad of his thumb over his cheek. “Bit of a situation you got yourself into.”

Peter’s eyelids flutter, and something sparks in them as they open. 

“T’ny.”

“I’m here,” he says softly, fingers moving to his hair and beginning to untangle the knotted mess. “Right here.” He ignores the bruises and the blood that he can see covering Peter’s body, only focusing on the fact that he’s here. He’s alive. 

“M’sorry.” 

It’s barely more than a whisper, but Tony’s throat aches. He shakes his head, fingers continuing the soothing rhythm in his hair.

“None of this is your fault kiddo, promise.”

“You’re here,” he mumbles, eyes sliding closed again. “You came.” Tony wonders if the kid is aware of what he’s saying. By the way his pupils are blown to twice their normal size, he suspects not. 

“Of course I’m here,” he says quietly, and his voice is heartbreakingly gentle. “I’m always going to come find you, okay?”

“M’kay.” 

By the way Peter's breathing changes, Tony knows he’s fallen asleep. He almost jumps when Nat speaks behind him, but the relief overpowers everything.

“He’ll be like that until the drugs are out of his system. With any luck, they should mostly be gone in the next 24 hours. Bruce called, said that he has fluids that can speed up his metabolism."

Tony nods, listening to her speak but not really processing what she’s saying. 

“Tasha?”

She makes a humming noise that could pass for an answer, sinking into the seat on the other side of the bed. In the last five minutes, she’s managed to clean most of the blood off her face and hands. 

“Thank you.”

She meets his eyes, and nods, looking at the unconscious teenager between them.

“He’s alive.”

There’s something akin to wonder in her voice, but he thinks it’s more relief than anything else. Tony presses his free hand against Peter’s chest, feeling the steady thump thump thump of his heart. 

“Yes.”

“Will he be okay?”

Tony looks back at her, sees the lingering terror in her eyes, the expression on her face mirroring his own. He looks back at Peter who is sleeping peacefully now. Safe. Alive. 

“Yes,” he says, and he isn’t sure he’s been more sure of anything in a while. “He has people willing to fight for him, and he’s strong.” He repeats it again, whether to reassure himself or Nat, he doesn’t know. “He’ll be okay.”

She releases a sigh of relief, leaning back against the chair. They lapse into comfortable silence, and Tony glances out of the window as the Jet takes off, heading back to the cabin. 

The sky is getting lighter, and Tony thinks he sees the first rays of dawn peeking over the horizon. 

He’ll be okay.

The light is hesitant and slow to appear, but it’s there all the same.