Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve was fully aware that there was an awful lot in New York that had changed during his time away: the buildings, the businesses, the technology... But some things, it would seem, remained consistent despite the test of time, hence his wariness around dark, seemingly deserted alleyways. Granted, there were very few thugs in the big city that could actually go up against Captain America, even if he were in civilian clothes and without his shield. What really kept Steve acting like a streetwise New Yorker were his old memories of being small and near-helpless, pulled into such places by bigger boys looking for a good beating to distract themselves.

As he strolled down the sidewalk that evening, thinking over such things, the man nearly mistook the sounds of a fight for just another memory - until the young voice shouting “Get off me!” served to jolt him back to the present.

Picking up the pace, Steve hurried forward, arriving at the end of a particular alley just in time to see a thin figure wearing red and blue throw something much larger, made of equal parts metal and purple goop into the wall.

A dozen thoughts quickly flowed through the super soldier’s head: Spider-man. Identity unknown. Small time crimefighter. Supposed hero behind stopping a couple different supervillains in recent months. Demonized by one portion of the city’s population, idolized by another. On the SHIELD watchlist.

Even as the information played through his memory, Steve was in motion. He ripped a portion of a steel drainpipe down from the closest building, hefted the length like a javelin, and hurled it at the monster getting back to its feet. The improvised projectile struck true, going through the center of the harness-thing holding the goo creature together. There was a small explosion of sparks, an inhuman shriek followed by a quiet pop, and then the entire thing started dissolving into muck.

“Ew.” Spider-man muttered, leaning against the wall and wrapping an arm around his midsection. “That is just all kinds of wrong.”

“No argument there,” Steve said, jogging forward. Spider-man’s head snapped up, and the guy had clearly taken a knock to the head because it took him a minute to realize exactly who had just joined him.

“C-captain Am-merica?” He squeaked. “Oh boy. This is embarrassing.”

“Nothing wrong with needing a little help from time to time.” Steve told him, a small smile showing up. “Now, are you okay?”

“Uh? Oh! Y-yeah, I’m fine - I mean, I got smacked around a little bit, but nothing that won’t heal up in a couple days.”

The super soldier raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Honest. I get over injuries way faster than normal.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Yep! Now, I think I’m going to head home and crash, so thanks very much and-”

“You don’t even want to figure out what this thing is?” Steve asked, incredulous.

Spider-man sighed. “I do know what it is - another one of Doc Oc’s experiments, sent out to cause havoc and get my attention. I’m just lucky I spotted the stupid thing before it could smash up a storefront.”

“You sound like you’ve fought a lot of these.”

“This is like, the eighth or ninth that I’ve seen this month. They keep getting tougher, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Your ribs agree with you on that one?”

The red and blue hero’s chuckle ended with a wince. “...Yeah, well, not like I have a choice about fighting the things. The cops’ weapons don’t do jack to ‘em.”

“You could call in the Avengers-” Steve was cut off by a disbelieving snort.

“Ah, no offense, but don’t you guys usually only come out for the big stuff? I mean, I can’t exactly see someone like the Hulk roaming around the Big Apple in the middle of the night to take on car thieves and weird goop-robots.”

A grin tugged at Steve’s features. “Well, no, when he isn’t big and green the man behind the Hulk likes to stick to calm activities. But the rest of us-” He paused and thought about it for a moment. “...Okay, I guess I see your point. But still, if a fellow hero needs help, there’s bound to be at least a couple of us available to come out.” Digging in his pocket, the man quickly pulled out his notepad and pen. He scribbled down a number, then ripped the page out and handed it over.

“What’s this?”

“The phone number for Avengers Tower. I mean it, Spider-man - you get in over your head, call, and we’ll come.”

For a moment, the full cover mask didn’t give anything away as the smaller hero stared at the offering. Then the material bunched in such a way that made Steve think he was grinning. “This is- ha! My girlfriend’s gonna flip. Thanks!”

“No problem. But, no crank calls or anything, alright?”

“There is no possible excuse for my doing something that stupid.” The young crimefighter said dryly. He thanked Steve again, and then fired a line of white webbing upwards, and in seconds had vanished from sight.

Clint frowned. “You’re sure?”

“Trust me, there’s no way he was full grown - maybe a college student, but probably a bit younger. Definitely still in his teens.” The Captain was pulling out various items from the fridge to make himself a big breakfast spread as he went over the previous night’s encounter. “Which, I’m sure you can understand, worries me.”

“Of course it does. Worries me too.” Clint admitted. “Spider-man’s been on SHIELD radar since he first showed up last year, and this seems like the sort of thing they’d have picked up on. Probably explains why Fury’s held off so long on the ‘recruit or neutralize’ order.”

Steve gave him a flat look, to which the archer could merely shrug. They were both fully aware of the secret security organization’s preferences when it came to super-powered beings: bring them in to be properly managed, or else taken out of the game.

Both of them settled into a shared silence as Steve put together his morning meal while Clint continued to consume a bowl of cereal. It was just the two of them in the Tower - Thor was visiting Jane, Natasha was away on a small fact-finding mission, Tony had dragged Bruce off the day before to inspect some of the facilities at a lab down in Florida and Pepper was attending a business convention on the west coast. Everyone expected to regroup at Stark Tower within the next day or two, but in the meantime it was just Cap and Hawkeye.

One of whom had succeeded in getting the other to consider the possible ramifications of teenage crimefighters loose in the Big Apple.

Clint swallowed his last spoonful. “So. You have any ideas on approaching Spidey again?”

Peter was not having a good day.

Definitely not a good week.

Maybe not even a particularly good month, when he thought about it.

His usual bully Flash Thompson had been temporarily removed from the football team thanks to flunking recent tests in a couple different classes, and apparently decided to work out his frustrations on Peter. Add to that the fact he’d managed to do something that caused Gwen to be irritated with him and taking a lot more ‘alone time’ for herself, and his efforts to keep Aunt May unconcerned and out of it all... Not to mention all the goop-borgs, as he’d taken to calling the weird robots sent out to attract his attention by destroying random shops and attacking innocent bystanders.

“Yeah,” Peter huffed to himself, perched on the edge of a rooftop in his Spider-man suit. “Not a good month.”

Possibly the only upshot to date was his encounter the night before with Steve Rogers.

Also known as Captain America.

Generally recognized leader of the Avengers.

Granted, he’d been out of uniform, but that hadn’t stopped the man from lending Peter a hand and then offering the same again should he ever need it. The shared phone number had instantly gone into Peter’s cell phone, which, despite not being on hand when he was web-slinging around the city, remained in his backpack with a change of clothes that would be secured somewhere central to whichever area he patrolled on a given night. And, admittedly, he’d been so excited about the gift that Peter inadvertently memorized the number - which could come in handy if something happened and he was unable to use his own phone to make the call.

The thought then popped into his head that it might be smarter to use a device other than his own, considering Tony Stark, tech genius extraordinaire, was another member of the Avengers. Peter certainly didn’t want to blatantly hand his identity over, even if it was an emergency.

Crashing trash cans followed by the sound of irritated cursing had Peter stealthily crawling over to the nearby alleyway. Three stories below, one large man in a trench coat was dragging another, incoherent guy, through the darkness.

“Damn drunk idiot,” the dragger growled, just loud enough for Peter to pick it up. “Almost not worth the work...”

Evidently judging himself deep enough in the shadows, he dropped the second man and pulled out a gun. The weapon was pointed down at its oblivious target, but before the trigger could be pulled, a line of webbing snapped down.

“Now, that’s not very sporting, is it?” Peter asked as he yanked the gun up and away from the shocked thug. “Not even giving him a chance to run or fight back-”

“Bug off, you freak!”

“Yeah, no.” Another few fired strands of webbing, and the thug suddenly found himself trapped, pinned against the bricks behind him. Peter jumped down and checked on the almost-murdered man. As far as he could tell, the guy was drunk or drugged or both, but otherwise alright.

A quiet noise at the end of the alley instantly attracted his attention; in a split second, the teen was positioned on the wall and ready to either fight or flee.

The stranger with nondescript clothing and spiky brown hair raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Easy there, Spidey. Just wanted to say hi.”

Peter cocked his head to the side. “Hi, then. And you are?”

“One of the good guys.” The newcomer hummed, studying the struggling, trussed up thug. “Or at least that’s what the Captain likes to remind us.”

Underneath his mask, Peter blinked, putting two and two together. “You’re a friend of Captain America’s?”

The guy chuckled lightly. “You’d probably recognize me if I had my bow on me.”

“Oh! It’s, uh, Hawk-something, right?”

“Hawkeye, yeah. So, question of professional curiosity - how exactly do you plan on forking this situation over to the cops?”

“Well, usually, I just string up the crooks to a light post, and sooner or later a police cruiser is bound to come by. Sometimes I have to go looking for one and lead ‘em back to the right place so the victim is able to give a statement, but that’s not always the case.” Nervously, Peter rubbed at the back of his head, wondering why exactly he was remaining to talk to a bona fide superhero. Captain America the night before had been due to his awe over such a legend actually taking the time to talk to him, but with someone not nearly so well known...

Hawkeye just hummed again, his gaze switching from the thug to the guy still lying on the ground. “Your ribs doing better?”

Peter’s hand automatically moved to his midsection, and the teen belatedly realized that the teammates really must have had a conversation about him. He nodded warily to Hawkeye, distantly wondering whether or not he’d been mentioned to the other Avengers members.

It was a bit mind-blowing, honestly, even if the Captain had given him permission to call for help.

“If you want to go ahead and vanish, I’ll call in law enforcement.” Hawkeye suddenly offered.

“Why?” Peter instantly asked, more than a little startled.

“Some of us know what it’s like working in the dark, kid.” His tone was light, but Peter could detect the steel behind it and had to suppress a shiver. “And we don’t mind reaching out from time to time, if someone similar needs it.”

Another offer of aid, the teen realized, if he ever got in over his head. Nodding again, Peter quickly departed, idly considering in the back of his head which Avenger was next going to show up to meet him.

When she first heard of what Steve and Clint were trying to do, Natasha snorted in amusement. “And you two think you’ll really be able to get him to trust you? Just through random encounters that he’ll rapidly start to realize aren’t random at all?”

Steve frowned at her as Clint tried to subdue an ‘I told you so’ grin.

“I just want to make sure he realizes I was being earnest when I said he could call us for help,” the super soldier argued. “And that there’s enough trust present he’ll actually go through with it when something really bad happens.”

“Like the kid would actually pass up an opportunity to have the Captain America join him in a fight.” Clint’s amusement was easily evident, and caused Steve to transfer the direction his frown was aimed in.

Natasha rolled her eyes at the both of them, but ten minutes later joined the pair as they departed from Avengers Tower.

“So, how do we go about finding this kid?”

Chapter Text

High School is full of all types, connected in a variety of ways. Sometimes good, other times not so much. There are those who can see such connections like the strands of a big web, and use such insight to their advantage - or not, as the case may be. Peter was one such student who could watch a crowd, pick out the people who fit their stereotypes and others who didn’t, and determine ahead of time how any interactions were likely to go down. He knew that some folks called the social hierarchy in school a ladder, or a food chain, but he preferred thinking of it like a spider’s web. Comparing it to anything less complicated (and deadly) was just ridiculous.

The thirteen year old at present was tucked against the wall of the gymnasium, warily watching the swirling crowd of students, teachers, judges and interested observers. Helicarrier High’s annual Science Fair was always a big deal, especially seeing as their advanced courses in the subject meant that a fair number of the next generation’s best and brightest attended the institution. (Peter was one of them. He tried not to make people aware of that fact). This year, there was a lot of hubbub over the clean energy systems put together by Tony Stark and Loki Odinson in direct competition with each other.

Had anyone asked him, Peter could have said those two would be heading for war long before they had the same idea for their projects.

Sticking close to the shadows, the boy slipped around the majority of the crowd, finally arriving at the portable white board with a map of the tables and lists of all the students entered. A friend of his was standing there, appearing puzzled as he searched for something.

“Hi, Bruce.”

The older student jumped, twisting about in surprise. “Peter! There you are. I keep trying to find your spot, but no luck.”

“Well, I, um, decided not to enter.” Peter said quickly, twisting his shirt.

Bruce blinked, clearly startled. “Why not? You’ve had the web fluid formula stabilized for months now, and I know you were almost done with those structural repair designs last week-”

“I just didn’t want to.” The younger boy said stubbornly. He wasn’t about to admit to his science-idol that a group of bullies had thrown his project into the mud and smashed it all to bits the day before fair entries closed.

Bruce was still giving him an odd look, but at least didn’t press the issue. “Well, do you want to come hang out at the Tower exhibit with me and Tony? I really wasn’t planning on leaving him alone there for more than a few minutes at the most - no telling what might get set on fire in the meantime.” Peter snickered, and nodded. He stuck close to the larger student as they maneuvered through the crowd, which seemed to be thickest around the Stark Tower and Asgard displays - the model building complexes that Tony and Loki had respectively designed to be powered off of their clean energy sources. Both were easily the two biggest in the room, which wasn’t out of place in the slightest, considering the money those particular teens had at their disposal.

“Why are you so hung up over this?” Tony questioned through a mouth full of food. Natasha watched the crumbs and other soggy bits that spewed out with a sort of fascinated disgust.

“I’m not!” Bruce protested, pushing his glasses up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “It’s just- ugh, I don’t know how to describe it. He was so excited to have a project that would do well in the fair, and then for him to just say he’d changed his mind... It doesn’t add up. I’ve got a bad feeling about the whole thing.”

Clint looked up from the homework he was finishing up before lunch ended. “This is the same kid you’ve been mentioning for a while now, right? The pipsqueak in half your science classes who got pushed up a grade?”

“Two grades, and yeah. Apparently his parents home schooled him, but after they died he had to go into the public system.”

“Who does he live with now, then?” Steve asked, faintly concerned.

“Went to his father’s uncle, who died, and now lives with the man’s wife, I think.”

“Poor kid.” Everyone stared at Tony in shock, who looked rather indignant at their expressions. “What? I’m perfectly capable of feeling sorry for someone who’s lost a lot.”

“You never have before,” Bruce pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but that’s because the person usually has nobody to thank but themselves for whatever mess they’re in. But an orphan living with a distant relation he isn’t even related to? Of course I’ll show a little sympathy.”

“Somebody help, the world must be ending...”

“Oh, stuff it, Barton.”

“Bruce...” Clint asked in a low tone. “Is that him by the wall? Peter Parker?” The other teen turned to look, and instantly paled. His small friend was being trapped in place by a half circle of much tougher, older students, none of whom looked like they were after some simple advice for their science homework. Almost before he knew it, the boy was hurrying over, not really knowing what he had in mind other than getting the obvious bullies away from Peter.

It was a bit of a surprise to find Steve and Clint on either side of him, but before anything could be said they’d reached the group and Bruce was announcing their presence. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The five teens before them all jerked, whipping around to see who’d dared disturb their game. None could say they were expecting to see a pissed off nerd, the school’s furious star quarterback, and a grim-faced archery champion. Then Tony Stark showed up too, trademark cocky smirk unexpectedly replaced by a dire scowl, backed up by the massive Thor Odinson and terrifying Natasha Romanoff.

For the first few seconds, the bullies were too stunned to do anything more than gape, and that was all the time Bruce needed to shoulder past them and get to his equally shocked friend.

“You okay, Peter?” He asked softly, reaching for the smaller boy’s shoulder. While the thirteen year old continued to stare with his jaw hanging slack, those three words were enough to jolt his antagonists back to the present.

“This- this isn’t what it looks like!” One of them rushed to say.

“Well, it looks like harassment and assault on another student.” Clint replied coldly.

“Which I’m sure even you idiots realize is against school policy.” Tony added, a hint of his usual smugness coming through.

“Beat it before this goes any further.” Steve’s order was the last straw, and the group disappeared in an instant.

Peter was still gaping.

“They didn’t already break him, did they?” Thor wondered aloud, which was apparently enough to bring the kid back to the world of the living.

“N-no, they just knocked me into the wall. I’m fine.” He shrank under Bruce’s intense gaze. “I’m fine, honest.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Really,” Peter said firmly. Or, as firmly as he could. “Thanks, for, for getting rid of them, but I kinda need to get to class now-”

“Art Two Drawing, Mr. Jackley, right?” Steve asked him, drawing the kid up short.

“Y-yeah-”

“I knew I’d seen you around the art department in the morning. C’mon, my first period’s just across the hall from there.” The two of them ended up setting off together, Steve shooting his friends a reassuring grin over his shoulder. Bruce nodded his thanks, and then the lot of them dispersed to their own classes.

Throughout the entire rest of that day, everywhere that Peter went, at least one of the group of seniors were there to walk with the kid, cheerfully asking him all sorts of things to distract from the fact that he’d gained a team of bodyguards - not that he didn’t notice anyway. Overwhelmed by the sudden protection, the thirteen year old was nonetheless highly grateful, and made a point of saying so when the lot of them reconvened after the school day ended.

Altogether, they simply laughed off his thanks while Bruce ruffled the kid’s hair. “Most of us have had bad experiences with bullies when we were smaller and younger, Pete. We’re happy to do anything we can to keep trouble off your back.”

Peter grinned at him. “Still, I really appreciate it.”

“And I’d really appreciate you spilling about what really happened to change your mind over entering the science fair.” As soon as the words left Bruce’s mouth, his small friend seemed to visibly deflate.

“...They threw my project in the mud and smashed it all,” he admitted quietly. “My models, the canisters of web-fluid, e-even the thumb drive I was keeping all, all of the project notes on. There wasn’t t-time to re-create it all before the d-deadline for entries.” Even though it had been a couple weeks, Peter’s eyes still started to tear up as he thought of all the wasted work. He was mortified at the thought of crying like a baby in front of the older students who’d guarded him through the day, but wasn’t able to get control of himself.

It didn’t help when Bruce wrapped an arm around his shoulders, or when Clint moved closer to rub his back soothingly.

“Why didn’t you report them to the school’s administration?” Steve asked in a sympathetic tone.

“‘S never done any good before,” Peter muttered, wiping at his face. “One of ‘em is the principal’s nephew, so when I tried he an’ his friends d-didn’t get in any t-trouble, but then they c-came and f-f-found m-me...” Shaking by then as well as crying, the kid let himself be pulled into a hug by Bruce and held until his emotions settled.

“Well,” Tony spoke up after a minute. “It just so happens my father is one of the biggest financial contributors to the school, and I’m sure if I - along with Mister Mayor’s Favorite Son Thor here - decide to get into an ‘altercation’ with these idiots, no one’s going to be able to just sweep it under the rug.”

Peter managed to turn his head enough to give the older boy an incredulous look.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised - we science-geniuses need to stick together, right?”

“Thor counts as a science genius?” Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Even the tall blonde had to burst out laughing at her words, along with everyone else. The deadpan question was enough to help Peter get a hold of himself again, and then the teens began plotting their strategy while walking the thirteen year old home.

As per usual, Peter was the first one up and moving that morning. He shuffled downstairs in his pajamas and fixed a bowl of cereal, gradually waking up as he ate. Then he got dressed properly, brushed his teeth and hair, and was double checking that everything was secure in his backpack by the time the realization came through that Aunt May still wasn’t out of bed.

Slightly nervous, he headed to her bedroom door, tentatively knocking before entering. As far as Peter could tell, everything was just fine, and his great-aunt was just sleeping in a bit later than usual. He whispered her name a few times while approaching the bed, but the old woman didn’t respond. Calling a bit louder, Peter reached to pat her cheek.

It was the icy coldness of her skin that made him realize what had happened.

The boy went back downstairs, sitting himself on the sofa in a daze. His brain had ceased to produce coherent thought, and Peter wound up remaining perched there for hours. He didn’t notice when he missed the school day starting, or ending. Didn’t pay attention to the calls that started coming in on the old landline in the kitchen, or the voicemail messages left there. He never even noticed when a knock came at the front door.

“We’re all certain no one saw him at school?” Bruce checked once more while Steve knocked for a second time. The other students gave a resounding chorus of affirmatives.

“Guys, I don’t think anybody’s answering any time soon.”

“Alright, scoot over, Spangles.”

“Tony, what are you-?” The slightly insane genius caused his friend to groan as he pushed past, jumping over the railing of the little porch and into the small space between the bushes and wall. He shuffled down a few paces, enough that he could peer in through the window and hopefully past the blinds.

“I think... Yep, our little wandering sophomore is definitely in there. Looks like he’s just sitting on the couch, though, and I don’t see anyone else.”

“Okay, this is starting to get weird. Has he just not heard us, or...?”

“Uh, with the force of Steve’s punches disguised as knocks? I’d say it’s more likely he’s outright ignoring us or distracted by something.”

“Time for Plan B then,” Natasha stated, slipping to the front. She pulled something from her pocket that was too tiny for the boys to identify, and a few moments later the door was unlocked and swinging open.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Bruce muttered, hurrying past and ignoring her smirk. He made a beeline for the sofa, where Peter was still sitting in some sort of daze. “Pete? Kiddo, you in there?” The others gradually joined him, and soon enough their repeated efforts were enough to rouse the boy and get him to lift his head.

“Well, you don’t look sick.” Tony stated, a couple of leaves still stuck in his wild hair. “Though honestly, if that were the case, I’d have expected you to be upstairs in bed, being fussed over by your aunt.”

Peter burst into tears.

Instantly, both Bruce and Natasha were holding him and trying to soothe the distraught boy, but had no luck. He couldn’t even get out whatever the matter was through the force of his sobs. Tony, Steve, and Thor all stood about at a loss, but Clint stepped away to check the rest of the house.

He came back down the stairs a couple of minutes later, expression pained. “Somebody call an ambulance.”

“There’s no way we can let him get sent off to an orphanage or group home.” Tony muttered, still pacing. “I mean, if he were old enough, I’d offer up my place, but Pete’s only just turned fourteen, which means Social Services or whoever needs to find somewhere that they find suitable...”

“My folks would never agree to it,” Bruce sighed.

“Mine might, but I think Loki would put up a stink out of spite towards me,” Thor reluctantly added in. “Which, even if it didn’t stop them from letting Peter into our home, would make things harder on him.”

“I might be able to get my mom to agree to taking him in, but taking care of one teenager on her salary is hard enough...” Steve said mournfully.

“Fury’s legally set up to house exchange students, not foster kids.” Natasha then sent a none too subtle look at Clint, who sighed.

“I’ll talk to Phil.”

“Peter, this is Phillip Coulson, my foster dad.” Clint gave the younger boy a nudge, prompting him to shake the man’s hand. “Phil, this is Peter Parker. You’ve heard me and Nat talk about him.”

“More and more often, it would seem. Hello, Peter. It’s nice to meet you, though I’m sorry the circumstances aren’t happier.”

“That’s, okay, sir. It’s nice to meet you too.” They entered into a conversation of small talk, waiting for Peter’s social worker to join them. As soon as she did, the subject changed to logistics, paperwork, all sorts of things pertaining to Peter becoming one of Phil’s foster kids. The question of how he felt about the transition must have been put to Pete at least five times, and not always from the social worker. Every time it came up, he answered a little more strongly that he felt good about the whole thing. By the end of the meeting, it was agreed that Peter would go home with Phil and Clint, meet the others at the Coulson household, and start to settle in. A follow-up inspection would be held a week later to make sure everything was progressing smoothly.

“Okay, so here’s the basic run-down,” Clint said as they got into Phil’s car, Peter’s backpack held tightly to his chest and a small suitcase squared away in the trunk. “I’m the oldest, literally and with how long I’ve been living with Phil. Then there’s Skye, she’s ten, joined us a few years back. Her real name’s Daisy, but she never actually answers when you use that, so don't bother."

“Okay,” Peter said, bemused.

“We’ve also got the twins, Pietro and Wanda, who incidentally are just about your age and are gonna start at Helicarrier High next fall.” Clint grinned as Peter perked up a little at that. He was perfectly aware that the kid worried from time to time what would happen to him once the group of seniors graduated, and to be honest Clint wondered too. The cringing shrimp of a geek Bruce had first introduced them all to months ago was mostly gone, replaced by a kid who’d become a lot more comfortable and confident with himself. To see all that progress undone by a sudden return of attention from bullies... Well. Setting the boy up to become friends with Clint’s highly intimidating younger siblings was his version of an insurance policy.

Chapter Text

“We’ve got incoming!” Bruce’s hoarse shout had the entire room leaping into action. Natasha and Okoye both grabbed up their respective weapons, Steve and his new shield right behind them. Rhodey jumped into his battered armor, stifling a curse when the space-racoon darted past him, growling. He didn't see so much as felt the lightning as Thor called his battle-axe to hand, and heard the other Wakandan warriors collecting themselves too.

“How big and how far out, Bruce?” Steve called.

“Compared to what was here before, tiny. It's still just outside the upper atmosphere, moving- coming this way- it’s-”

A sudden chiming noise interrupted him, and everyone paused at Rocket's curse. The space-racoon fumbled for a device on his belt, flicking a switch as soon as he pulled it off. “Quill?”

“Rodent,” a voice rasped from the device. Rocket looked surprised.

“Nebula? The hell are you doing on the Milano? Where’s Quill?”

“Gone,” Nebula replied. “The Guardians are all gone. Thanos took Gamora and killed her, and the others faded into ash.” Rocket went still. Thor took a tentative step toward him, but stopped at Nebula’s next words. “Are there any Avengers still alive?”

“...yeah,” Rocket finally spoke, his voice disturbingly devoid of emotion. “Yeah, I'm standing in a room with what's left of them. Why? How do you know about-?”

“Tell them their teammate is going to need medical attention.” And with that, she shut off the communication.

Rhodey shot a glance at Bruce, and knew they both had the same hope. Steeling himself, the colonel turned towards the only person in the hall who had yet to move.

“Your Highness? We're going to need a doctor soon.” Shuri didn't move, didn't even blink when Rhodey stepped up beside her. All the girl did was continue to stare blankly forward, her hands clenched around a white headdress.

Fast losing his nerve to keep pressing, Rhodey felt himself be pushed aside. General Okoye knelt next to Shuri, and rested a hand overtop of hers. “My Queen. Wakanda needs you. The Avengers need you. The time to mourn will come, but it will help no one now.”

After a moment, the teenager sucked in a deep, wavering breath. “I don't want to be the Black Panther, Okoye. I don't want to be Queen.”

“I know, little one. But that choice is no longer yours.”

Shuri took another deep breath, steadier this time, and looked up to meet Rhodey’s gaze. “You said something about a doctor?”

“Which of our friends did you bring back?” Natasha demanded, and Nebula twitched a shoulder back towards the ship.

“Him.”

“Oh God,” Rhodey breathed. “Tony.”

His best friend staggered down from the ship’s ramp, bloody and bruised, Iron Man suit gone, cradling a grey hand to his chest. Rhodey started forward when he saw Tony’s foot catch on the ground, but Steve beat him to the punch, getting there in time to catch the defeated man before he could fall flat on his face.

“Stark?”

“He’s gone,” Tony mumbled, eyes vacant. “He’s gone, I couldn't, couldn't save him, didn't tell him-”

“Who’s gone, Tony?” Steve carefully readjusted his grip on the smaller man, in order to see his face better. But Tony only continued to repeat his previous words.

“He’s been getting worse the entire flight here,” Nebula spoke up behind them. “I’ve seen children die in their parents’ arms before, and while none have ever taken it well, he’s handling the shock worse than most.”

Rhodey frowned. “But Tony doesn't have- oh. Oh no. Spider-man?”

The blue alien shrugged. “I didn't catch what he was called. I only saw him clinging to your friend as he faded, crying that he didn't want to go.”

“Sixteen,” Tony mumbled, starting to shake in Steve’s arms. “He was sixteen, he needed me to save him, but I couldn’t, I couldn't save my kid-”

“Tony- just, come on.” Steve started to stand, bringing the other man with him. “Let's get you looked over.”

“He could feel it coming,” Tony said, staring at his bandaged left hand. Rhodey figured he could still see imagined flecks of grey coating it. “Kid felt it, and knew what was happening. He didn't want to go. He fell, reaching for me, and I caught him- I couldn't catch you or Pepper, but I caught him, and it wasn't enough.” Rhodey set a hand on his friend’s shoulder as the man started to cry. “You know what he said at the end, Rhodes? ‘I'm sorry.’ Kid remembered what I told him after the ferry. Didn't want to put the blame on m-me, even though I- I-”

“Tony, he would've faded whether he was out there with you or not. It's not anyone’s fault but Thanos.”

Rhodey made sure he was there when the aircraft touched down, along with Steve and Bruce. Scott was the first to disembark, his daughter Cassie on his back, the white-haired Janet van Dyne a step behind, and an ant the size of a dog skittering after them. Then came Clint, leading Lila by the hand with little Nate tucked tight against his chest. Behind them was Happy Hogan, a brown-haired woman whom Rhodey thought he recognized but couldn't place, and Nakia, the Wakandan operative Shuri had charged with going around to gather them all up.

“So,” Clint said when he got to the trio, trying to smile despite his grey face and bloodshot eyes. “End of the world didn't happen quite like I was expecting.”

“Pretty sure none of us saw this coming. Natasha’s getting rooms ready for you guys,” Steve told him. “Any luggage?”

Clint shrugged the shoulder that had a single duffel hanging from it and nodded to the backpack and suitcase Lila was handling. “We packed light. Lang’s got a lot more, but it's all shrunken down into a couple of cases, and I think the others just brought one bag apiece.”

“Alright then, we'll let you all get settled before we start up a council meeting. Is this everyone?”

“One more- there she is.”

Pepper stepped off the ramp, and all at once a wave of relief crashed over Rhodey. At least until he heard Happy introducing Bruce to the brown-haired woman, and a new shot of anxiety clawed its way up his broken spine.

“Tell me he’s here,” the woman demanded, trembling as she stared Tony down. “Please. Tell me he’s-”

“I'm sorry, May.”

“No...”

“I- I held him while he went-”

“No!” She sank to her knees, already sobbing. “Not my little boy... not my Peter...”

A few messages trickled in over the rest of the day. Stark Industries employees scrambling, seeking orders from their CEO. Secretary Ross got dusted, and his hastily appointed replacement reached out, less concerned with the Accords than about restoring some sort of order to the world. Sharon Carter called, reporting both Nick Fury and Maria Hill were gone, but something had been found by the vehicle they were in: a old pager, upgraded with some kind of unknown tech, putting out a signal strong enough to leave the galaxy entirely.

Thor arrived back with anguish on his face and a woman under his arm. Rhodey remembered Darcy Lewis, and knew she'd probably badgered the Thunder God into bringing her with him. The fact that they were alone easily explained why he'd agreed.

A kid named Harley Keener somehow managed to get a line through to them, and Pepper quickly handled it, unwilling to lay that burden on the still-grieving Tony just yet. Within an hour, she arranged for someone to pick up the teen and his younger sister and get them safely to Avengers Compound. "Should I have them brought here instead?" She asked Rhodey in a whisper, both of them standing in the hall outside Tony's recovery room. "It's just- I don't know how he'd react-"

"We'll give him a couple days," Rhodey reassured her. "Then bring it up. Let Tony decide."

"Right."

“Rocket,” the alien on screen said, looking relieved. “Where are Quill and the others? Aleta Ogord’s called a meeting of all the Ravagers that’re still around, and she wants the Guardians there-”

“You're looking at the only Guardian left, Kraglin.”

The man on screen closed his mouth with a snap, horrified.

“Thanos killed Gamora, then the fade caught Quill, Drax, Mantis, and- and Groot.” Rocket paused to swallow back what Rhodey thought would have been a sob. “Me and Nebula are on Terra, since this was ground zero. The humies here are working on a plan to track Thanos down and make him pay.”

“...Think they have a chance of making it work?”

“Yeah. I really do. They’ve got decent tech and a lot of muscle, and people even crazier than Quill.”

After a beat, Kraglin grinned, viciously. “Then count me and my crew in. We'll be there as soon as we can.”

Chapter Text

“Nobody fuss at me for the Star Wars reference, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

Steve heard Sam huff behind him, and couldn’t resist speaking up. “That’s the one with the Vulcans and Klingons, right?”

“...I honestly can’t tell if you’re serious or not,” Lang replied over their comm line in a horrified tone. “Sci-fi geeks the world over just shuddered with rage and don’t know why.”

“There’s an art to figuring out if Cap’s asking a genuine question or just messing with you,” Clint offered, somewhere up in the ventilation system. Steve smirked as he kept moving silently down the hallway. “I have yet to master it. Might ask Nat for some pointers.”

“If he gets shit-eating grin on his face right after the question, you know he’s teasing.” Natasha cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Steve let his smirk widen, and she winked back. “But this time, I think he might actually mean it.”

“Ohh no, I might not be fully fluent in Steve-speak but I AM an expert with all things Romanov, and she definitely just teased you. Which probably means there is, in fact, a shit-eating grin on Captain America’s face right now.”

Sam snorted, and spoke into his comlink before Lang could finish sputtering. “Trust me, Scott, don’t go down that rabbit hole, they’ll only drag you deeper. Now, getting back to the mission, does anybody have eyes on the secret entrance we’re supposed to be looking for?”

“Oh, yeah, I found it a minute ago. It’s why I mentioned the bad feeling - there’s some blood on the threshold. Like, only a few drops, but still. Somebody injured got pulled through here, and pretty recently.”

“Well, we are looking into the possibility of a new Winter Soldier program,” Natasha muttered, picking up her pace a little bit. “Would make sense to abduct a couple of disposable test subjects if they’re lacking volunteers.”

Steve started moving faster too. “All the more reason to shut this place down as soon as possible. Joining us, Hawkeye, or have you found another way in?”

Just ahead of them, the archer himself suddenly appeared, dropping down from the ceiling with a vent cover in hand. He set it aside and fell into step with Natasha. “Joining. Whatever kind of set-up they’ve got downstairs, it must be on a separate airflow system - I couldn’t find even a single vertical shaft.”

Soon enough their group of four reached Lang’s position, and the man reverted to normal size before gesturing at an unremarkable stretch of wall. “Trust me, the seams are pretty small, but they’re there. Also, I haven’t spotted any security cameras, but...”

“But any facility worth their salt will probably have eyes on us as soon as we go in,” Steve finished grimly. Six months ago, they would’ve had Tony’s help hacking and disabling security networks, but that option wasn’t available anymore. “So we hit ‘em hard and fast instead of stealthy.”

“Ready when you are, Cap,” Sam stated.

Nodding, Steve backed up a little bit - then launched himself forward, and knocked down the door.

They expected alarm klaxons to go off as soon as their presence was detected. What they did not expect was for alarms to already be going off, deeper within the facility. Steve could hear them pretty well, and even his teammates without enhanced senses managed to pick up the high-pitched echoes. “Ooh-kay,” Lang said slowly, “Sounds like they’ve already got some problems going on.”

Clint shrugged at him, a flash-grenade arrow nocked to his bowstring. “If it makes our job easier, I’m not complaining.”

“Depends on what the trouble is,” Sam murmured, keeping to Steve’s left as they started moving down the stairs. “If there’s zombies, I’m bugging out.”

“...is that very likely?”

“Focus, Scott.”

Their group made it down two stories without zombies or anything else jumping out of the shadows, which could’ve been considered a good thing. But they also didn’t come across any security personnel, despite passing an empty guard station, which gave Steve a bad feeling too. Natasha took point heading down the first corridor they came to, and the sirens got louder. Underneath, Steve managed to hear distant yelling, though too distorted for him to pick out any words.

A pair of guards finally showed up, backing into the intersection ahead of them, cursing quietly as they kept their guns pointed towards- the ceiling?

Clint let his arrow fly. Natasha took down the guards before they could do anything but yelp: one knocked out by a flying kick to the head, the other pinned and restrained with his weapon tossed out of reach. “Hi there,” Steve greeted him, crouching down with a flat smile. “Don’t suppose you’d like to tell us what’s going on?”

The man’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of them, armed and uniformed and unamused. He swore, loudly, before stammering something in a language Steve didn’t know. Natasha did, thankfully, and she replied with similar rolling words. The guard shook his head, adding something else in a fearful tone.

“Apparently, they’ve had a prisoner escape,” Natasha translated. “Small, fast, attacks from above. They have orders not to kill.”

Steve grit his teeth, and heard Sam hiss with dismay. “Someone they’ve already invested time and money into, then.”

“Most likely. Any other questions for this guy?” When Steve shook his head, Natasha quickly applied a chokehold. By the time she stood back up, the rest of them had moved to positions around the intersection. “Splitting up or sticking together, Cap?”

“Together. We don’t know what this prisoner’s capable of, or what kinds of measures these people will use to get them back.” That said, he gestured for quiet, and listened as intently as he could. The shouting definitely sounded louder from one direction, and Steve’s natural inclination was to head that way- but a short, sharp slam caught his attention, from the hallways branching off to the left. “Come on.”

Lang shrank down to hitch a ride on Clint’s shoulder. He, Sam, Steve and Natasha formed a diamond shape as they moved, swiftly covering ground, using hand gestures to signal when to pause and when to go. A few more security personnel crossed their path, clearly more focused on finding the escapee than remaining alert for any other threats, and all went down fast and quiet. Then, around a corner up ahead, Steve heard someone shout- a squeal of something metallic being yanked against concrete- a sudden burst of gunfire.

He sped up, and reached the turn just in time to see a slip of a teenager toss a grown man headfirst into the wall.

A kid. These bastards decided to experiment with a kid.

In the few seconds it took Steve to throttle back his instinctive rage, the rest of his team gathered around him, all of them freezing with the same shock. And then the kid turned, and spotted them.

He flinched. He flinched away, stumbling back, until he tripped on the guard’s dropped gun and landed flat on his butt. Shaky breath sped up, only to stall completely when Steve tried taking a step forward.

“It’s okay,” he said, stopping in place. “It’s okay, son, we aren’t going to hurt you.”

“C-captain,” the kid stammered. His hands shook. His eyes were wide, pupils too large, but unerringly focused on Steve’s face. “You’re- no, I- I can’t- I-”

Natasha slid around to put herself in the kid’s line of sight. “Hey, little fella. You look past ready to get out of here, huh?”

“You’re- Widow. Black Widow.” The boy looked relieved, for whatever strange reason, but it only lasted a second before the panic came roaring back into his expression. “I can’t- they gave, gave me- a needle- I can’t, think I can’t think-”

“That’s alright,” Natasha soothed, easing a little closer. The kid didn’t flinch from her. “We’ll get you out of here and wait for it to wear off, okay?”

“‘Kay,” the kid whispered. But just as Natasha reached him, he shuddered, all over, and started to tip to one side. She managed to catch him before his head could hit the floor, and then Lang burst up to full size beside them.

“I’ll carry him,” the man insisted. “You guys are the better fighters, anyway.”

“Could you shrink him down?” Steve asked, still not getting close.

Lang shook his head, but then stopped and shrugged. “I mean, I could, but I’m not the expert with Pym-particles, and we don’t know what else he’s been injected with, so I’d really rather not risk any bad reactions.”

“Fair enough. Is he injured anywhere else?”

“A lot of bruises, already healing. And here-” Natasha gestured to the kid’s feet, bare and stained with fresh blood. “Looks like he walked across something sharp. Broken glass, maybe, but I can’t see any shards in the cuts.” Lang carefully reached down to grasp where she indicated, and pulled the limp kid up and over his shoulder.

“Alright,” Steve said. “New priority. We head back to the entrance, quick and quiet. Ant-Man and Falcon, get him out of here, back to the safehouse. The three of us will come back in to finish the mission once you’re clear.” The others all nodded, and they hastily retraced their steps, back to the front corridor and staircases.

Unfortunately, they didn’t make it that far.

A much larger group of guards suddenly spilled into the first intersection just before Steve reached it - at least a dozen of them, maybe fifteen, and all armed with similar weapons that fired bursts of electricity rather than bullets. His shield could still catch them, but it sizzled with each impact, and Steve’s hands started to go numb even through the thick material of his gloves. “Get back!”

Clint and Natasha continued to shoot around him. Sam found an unlocked door to yank open and led Lang through it. An explosive arrow hit the ground in front of the guards, and with the brief cessation of shooting, Steve dove through the doorway after his teammates.

They found themselves in a long room, some kind of workshop, with multiple tables full of lab equipment and bulky machinery along the walls. Another door sat at the far end; Lang darted off with the kid, Clint and Sam on either side, as Natasha helped Steve block off the door they’d come through. “Well, this isn’t going according to plan.”

He just grunted, shoving a heavy cabinet over. At least one heavy body slammed into the door, but their slapdash barrier held. For the moment.

They ran to join the others, just as Sam managed to break the other door’s lock with a swift kick. New route opened, their group slipped through - only to stop just as quickly, gathered on a walkway across a truly massive chasm. Natural stone bordered both sides, and the dim overhead lighting barely managed to penetrate the darkness below.

“Bad feeling’s worse,” Lang commented, briefly leaning a little closer. The kid groaned, twitching on his shoulder, which served to make the man backpedal for safety’s sake.

“We taking our chances on there being a way out on the other side, or making a stand?” Natasha asked, eyeing the door they’d just come through. The pursuing guards continued to shout, and Steve could hear the undercurrent sound of something cutting through the barricade.

“We take a chance,” he answered grimly. “Widow first, then Falcon. Hawkeye, you and I bring up the rear; Ant-man, keep in the middle and let us cover you.” Each of them made a quick acknowledgement, and then they were moving - careful, but quick. No handrails bordered the edges of the walkway; no convenient signage indicating how far down the drop went.

About halfway across to the far wall, the first gunshots rang out.

Steve did what he could to alternate with Clint, blocking the bullets coming straight towards them even as arrows flew back in return. More guards spilled out onto the balcony platform around the door, though, giving them wider angles to fire at the rest of his teammates. Sam and Natasha gave a little back with their own weapons, at least, but Lang didn’t have much choice besides hunker down and keep moving.

Then the kid woke back up.

Steve’s only warning came in the form of a horrified shout from Lang, a few seconds before he felt the reverberations of something traveling under the walkway. Traveling fast.

“The hell-?” Clint barely got two words out before the kid flipped into sight, swinging himself inhumanly fast up onto the balcony. The guards weren’t any more prepared for him to come into their midst; several of them could only let loose shouts of alarm before a palm or an elbow or a foot slammed into their bodies.

Not a single one fell over the edge. Instead, the kid kept grabbing opponents he’d just knocked out, turning them into blunt force weapons against the others, tossing around people twice his size and kitted out in heavy body armor.

All too soon, no one remained standing besides the kid. He panted, short in-and-out gasps, arms still raised for combat as his eyes spun wildly, looking for the next enemy.

Steve took that moment to ease forward around Clint. Something in his head managed to click, watching the unknown teen bulldoze his way through the hostiles, and even though the mere idea of it turned his insides cold he still needed to ask- “Queens?”

The kid’s head snapped around towards him.