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Chapter Text

Steve had always wanted to visit the western states. Just not when it was being invaded by aliens.

Seriously, couldn't the Avengers meet any nice aliens?

Oh, wait. Thor.

Wait, did he count...?

Steve slammed his shield into the purple goblin-looking thing that charged him. There were hundreds of them, most of them in the air. It was like the Chitauri, except these guys' flying vehicles carried a lot more punch. Steve himself was stuck in a canyon, fending off a dozen of the little suckers on his own, thanks to getting separated from the rest of the team like an idiot.

But there was good news. First and foremost, they were in rural Utah, near the Grand Canyon (not in the Grand Canyon, unfortunately). No civilians around. Second, Wanda, Hulk, Tony, and Thor were having a lot of success. Almost fun.

Something exploded over Steve's shoulder and Tony cackled over the comms.

Scratch the "almost." They were having a blast.

"Head's up!"

A web shot out and snagged a grounded alien's weapon as it fired. The shot went wide, hitting a rock instead of Steve. Spider-Man swooped down and knocked the alien out. Steve breathed a little easier at the backup.

"We should take field trips more often. This is fun!" Peter cheered, squirting more webs from his slingers.

"Says you! I hate this weather," Natasha grumbled over the comms.

"We can go to Siberia next month," Clint suggested.

"Screw that. Iceland," Bucky said.

"Chatter," Steve scolded. "Anyone have eyes on the mothership?"

"I got it!" Tony called. "It's...ah, shit. Anyone got another nuke lying around?"

"No, but Thor and Wanda go boom," Peter suggested. He had a flying bike on the end of his webs as he spun and spun and smashed it into the canyon wall.

"We need Wanda on the ground. Take Thor," Steve said. "Vision, too, if you need him."

"Thor will work. But, uh, slight problem," Tony said. "The ship's got an electro-magnetic field around it."

"Can you fly through it?"

"Oh, yeah, but our comms'll go out."

"Wanda."

There was a familiar tickle in the back of Steve's mind, before he was mentally connected by thin telepathic threads to everyone on the team.

He couldn't believe he used to discourage Wanda's telepathy. This was proving unbelievably useful. Life-saving, even.

The aliens in the canyon with Steve and Peter suddenly scattered, scurrying up the rock walls.

"What the heck?" Peter asked.

Steve shook his head. "I don't know. Get out of here." He switched to telepathy while Peter swung his way up the canyon. *They're leaving.*

*Ours are not,* Vision reported. His mind was calm and Zen, but for a slight ripple of worry (given the intense concentration and burst of confidence from Wanda, his girlfriend was doing something dangerous) and curiosity at the aliens' behavior.

Peter was out of the canyon before the ground shook.

"Earthquake!" Steve shouted, heading to the wall for cover.

Earthquakes in Utah usually weren't so bad. But because of all the shooting and damage happening to the canyon, a massive slab of the opposite canyon wall broke off and began sliding toward Steve.

Steve saw movement out of the corner of his eye and felt Peter's jolt of pure panic a second before the young man could cry a warning. The alien fired its weapon at Steve the same time he threw his shield.

It felt like fire exploding in his stomach. Steve dropped to his knees and coughed blood.

He tried to stand. He was a super-soldier. A single shot was nothing.

But whatever those guns fired was enough to keep Captain America down. And the chunk of rock that fell on his head as the earthquake subsided didn't help, either.

The last thing Steve saw before he fell unconscious was Peter picking up his shield and facing the crashing canyon wall.

--

*Captain!*

*Steve?!*

*Rogers?*

None of their telepathic or vocal calls got a response from the Captain. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.

*He's alive,* Peter said. *I think.*

Thor breathed a sigh of relief as he smashed his way through the alien mothership. He and the Man of Iron wreaked havoc, lightning and electric fire ripping the ship apart so these foul creatures would never return.

*Peter, what's wrong?* Wanda demanded.

*Canyon wall collapsed. Tried to crush us. Need evac or we'll be an Avengers sandwich.*

*What's the status on Rogers?* Natasha asked.

Instead of words, Peter dropped an image in their minds. It was the Captain on the canyon floor, blood seeping out of the tattered remains of his lower torso.

Thor slammed his hammer into the mothership's haul in a rage.

Peter was trying to hide it, but they could all taste his fear and grief. *I don't know how long we have.*

*These bastards are stubborn, but we'll wrap it up and get to you ASAP,* Anthony promised. *Can you do first aid?*

*No, kinda busy here.*

*Need backup?*

*There's no aliens. Just wipe 'em out and come get us.*

Thor frowned, confused. How could Peter be too busy to aid a fallen comrade and yet not be fighting their foes?

Old mistrust reared its head. The boy was young, having only come into adulthood mere months ago. The taste of battle had turned cowards of far greater men than Parker.

Thor shook his head and sent a clap of thunder on a wave of attacking aliens on flying bikes. Peter was many things, but he was not a coward. Thor could trust him to do what was best for the team. They all could.

*Found the power source!* Anthony cheered. Somewhere deep in the ship, there was an explosion. Its lavender lights died, and it slowly turned downward before doing a nose-drive for the ground.

"Incoming!" Thor bellowed.

The ship fell with a magnificent crash, and enough explosions that Hulk clapped his hands and yelled, "Pretty!" With the leaders dead, the rest of their foes scattered.

*Thor, get Peter and Steve,* Anthony ordered. *FRIDAY's calling a med evac. Everyone else, round up as many of the little fuckers as you can. We can't have them running around.*

Thor flew close to the ground, trying to remember where the Captain of America and Man of Spiders were last seen.

*They're in the canyon,* Clint said. *I, uh, think you'd better hurry.*

Thor found the canyon and landed on the edge of it, looking down and trying to find them. There were several alien bodies, as well as piles of rocks and boulders, and one massive boulder that had probably fallen off of the opposite wall. Had it been top-heavy, it would've fallen over and either lie slanted against the other wall or shattered at the bottom of the canyon. But it was bottom-heavy, and with the canyon at a slight incline it had slid. Thor would've ignored the phenomenon entirely, if it weren't for the red and blue figure caught in the middle of it.

Thor flew over so fast he probably broke a sound barrier. Peter was standing in front of Steve, holding the captain's shield and using it to help him brace against the rock wall. He was the only thing keeping it from crushing them.

"Get...Steve," he gritted out.

Thor gathered Steve in his arms. But before he could leave, the ground rumbled again.

Thor instinctively covered Steve's body. A couple of pebbles and smaller rocks fell, but nothing more. He looked up at the towering rock wall and winced when he saw it waver. "Peter..."

"Go!"

Their minds were still connected with Wanda's magic. Peter was putting on a brave face, but underneath he was scared. Terrified. And frustrated. And determined. He was staying.

Thor flew to the top of the canyon. He carried Steve as far as he dared, knowing that once the two rock walls crashed together they couldn't have anyone near the edge, never mind a fallen warrior.

"They're here!" he called. Hawkeye saw him and ran over. Thor set Steve on the ground and, confident that he was still breathing, flew back down to get their spider.

"He okay?" Peter asked as soon as he landed.

"The Hawk is with him, and the healers will be here shortly." Thor wrapped his arm around a skinny torso. "Ready?"

"Mm-hm."

Thor flew up in a flash. The rock wall slid and crashed.

It was so loud and distracting that Thor didn't notice the alien aiming its weapon until it was too late.

Luckily, Peter did notice. He moved the shield in front of Thor lightning-quick, deflecting the shot. Thor twisted them in mid-air, dove, and whacked the alien with Mjolner.

"Thank you," Thor said, setting Peter carefully on the ground.

Peter didn't respond. He was breathing heavily, great gasping gulps of air, and trembling.

"Are you all right?"

"That was..." Peter panted. "...heavy rock."

Thor winced. He would've had a difficult time holding that canyon wall back. Peter, while certainly strong, was half his size.

Helicopters flew over. Thor recognized SHIELD agents. He clapped Peter on the back. "Come. We'll retire for the day. Our captain will be on the mend, and you can boast of your exploits to your aunt."

Peter huffed a laugh. "Right."

"The shield must be heavy. I'll carry it."

"Okay. Thanks." A pause. Then, "Thor?"

"Yes?"

"I can't let go of the shield."

Peter was holding the shield's handle in a crushing grip. Thor gently pried his fingers free and managed to get the shield off of his arm. Then he led the boy to the helicopters. He needed rest as much as the good Captain did.

--

"What do you mean he might not wake up?" James "Bucky" Barnes snapped.

They were all in the healers' wing of the helicarrier, still bruised and dirty from the battle. Peter had refused the rest Thor advised and went to join the others in their wait for the captain, a decision that did not surprise Thor in the least. For the last two hours, the healers had worked on Captain Rogers.

"I don't understand," Thor said. "You said the operation went well."

"He's physically healing very well, yes," the healer said. "If it weren't for the serum, he'd have been dead before you got here. But he lost a lot of blood, was hit in the head very hard, and there was something in those alien weapons that's interfering with the process. Regular humans that've been shot by it, even if it's just in the leg, have gone completely braindead."

A heavy silence fell on the shield-brothers. James took a deep breath. "How do we know he's still...there?"

The healer shook her head. "We don't. He'll be in a medical coma for a few hours, but if he doesn't wake up in the next few days, I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"There's a way."

All eyes turned to Wanda. She was playing with one of the rings on her fingers, staring at the floor in thought.

"You couldn't read his mind when he was unconscious," Clint pointed out.

"That was in the middle of the fight with a shallow read. I can go deeper into his mind and see if he's there," Wanda said. She spoke with such confidence, such determination, that Thor felt compelled to believe her.

He nodded. "Let her try."

Natasha opened her mouth to protest, but when Bruce put a hand on her shoulder she stayed silent.

Peter squeezed Wanda's shoulder. He still wore the mask, but Thor knew he had a small, encouraging smile on his face. "You got this."

Wanda went into Steve's room.

--

He was asleep. Maybe.

Steve couldn't be sure. He knew he wasn't awake, but this sure didn't feel like sleep. Or a dream.

Shit, what if he was in the ice again? Caught between life and death? What if he woke up and another seventy years had slipped away?

*Steve?*

He jumped on that familiar voice. *Wanda? Where are you?*

*Right here. Hold on...*

The darkness vanished. Steve was sitting on a bench with Wanda, in the middle of a deserted park.

She launched herself at him and hugged him. *Thank god! We were so worried! The doctors said they weren't sure you'd wake up, that you might be braindead...*

Steve pulled back, alarmed. *Do I have any brain damage?*

Wanda put her tiny hands over his cheeks. She probably didn't need to, since they were in his head, but Steve didn't mind.

She smiled. *You have slight memory loss of the fight, but that's to be expected. You hit your head pretty hard.*

Steve relaxed. *How bad?*

*Your stomach was blown open. We saw bits of your lunch. But the doctors put you back together, and you should wake up in the next couple of days.*

*And the fight? What about the others? Did we get the mothership?*

Wanda gave him a full report. Occasionally she changed the scenery so he was watching a memory, so he could see what had happened on her end of the fight.

When she was done, she hesitated. *Sorry. I know you don't like it when I'm in here.*

Steve winced. He was never going to get over his guilt. The entire team--minus Peter--had all but forbidden Wanda from using all but a small portion of her powers, making her feel like an outcast in her own home. Which hadn't actually been her home, because she hadn't had an official apartment at the Tower!

She flicked his forehead. *Stop it. I can feel your guilt.*

Steve hugged her. She was surprised, and tense. *You're ensuring a teammate's safety and you're keeping me sane. You have nothing to apologize for.*

Wanda relaxed against him. *I have to go soon. Anything you want me to tell the others?*

Steve grinned.

--

Everyone waited, wringing their hands or pacing or bouncing their feet. When Wanda returned, they all jumped on her.

"Well?"

"Is he okay?"

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Is he gonna wake up or am I gonna have to kick his ass?"

Wanda held up her hands, looking slightly panicked. "I can't tell you anything if you're all shouting at me!"

They immediately backed off, some of them looking guilty.

"He's fine," Wanda said. Everyone sagged in relief. "He should wake up in a couple of days, but if he doesn't I can help him with that, too. And he wants everyone to, and I quote, 'Go home, take a shower and eat some goddamn food before you pass out on the helicarrier. I'm looking at you, Bucky.'"

James snorted. "Sounds right."

"He also says Clint and Tony need to run laps."

Clint and Tony sputtered. "What?!"

"For making bets on private channels. Which I heard when you switched to telepathy." She rounded on Tony. "I can't believe you thought Natasha would get less than forty kills! You deserved to lose your car."

Natasha raised her eyebrow. Peter gawked. "You bet one of your cars? Against Nat?"

Tony shrugged. "She ran out of ammo and got a late start from landing the plane. Excuse me for working with statistics!"

"Laps," Wanda ordered. Then she turned to Peter and visibly softened. "He also said that if you're blaming yourself, don't. He made the call, and you kept him alive."

Peter shifted his feet and looked down.

Thor scoffed, and clamped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I don't see how he'd feel guilty. He kept the Captain from getting crushed!"

"I'm sure we'll hear all about it in debriefing," Natasha said. "You heard the captain. We'll leave one person here while the rest of us go home and rest up. Clint, Tony, you're on the track at 0600 tomorrow morning."

Both men groaned. Wanda did a poor job of hiding her smile.

Chapter Text

Fuck Hydra.

Bucky shot down two more agents as he and Peter went deeper into the facility. The boy was being unusually quiet, and Bucky squashed his regret. Peter's no-kill policy still caused friction in the group. That's why they suggested he sit this one out. But no. He was an Avenger, this was Avenger business, blah blah blah...He was more stubborn than Steve.

"East wing's clear," Natasha said over the comms. She and Barton were in the east, Steve and Tony in the west, Wanda and Vision to the north, and Bucky and Peter were in the south. Thor was away on Asguard and Bruce was in the quinjet, waiting for a Code Green that probably wouldn't come.

"Ground floor's clear, but we have stairs leading down," Bucky reported, poking his rifle through the door to the stairway.

"You remember anything about this place?" Peter asked. They were his first words since stepping foot on the ground.

Bucky shook his head. "They either never brought me here or came after I got deprogrammed."

He led the way down the stairs, and came to a hall of cells.

"What the...?"

Bucky's stomach sank. "Recruits."

"Recruits?" Peter echoed. "Like...you?"

Bucky nodded. He looked through the tiny window of the first cell door and saw a young woman in the corner of the room. "They have to break them, first."

"How do we unlock the doors?"

"There should be a command switch..." Bucky found it in a control room, tucked away in the corner. After pushing a few buttons, all the doors swung open. "Steve, we got non-combatants coming up. Captives."

Steve sucked in a breath. "All right, get them to the jet."

Bucky came out of the room as Peter was coaxing everyone out of their cells. One of them was as young as nine, and stared at Spider-Man with his jaw dropped. "You're really him?"

"Darn right," Peter said, kneeling so they were eye-to-eye. "All the other Avengers are upstairs, beating up the bad guys. I'm gonna get you to our plane, and we'll take you somewhere safe, okay?"

"Liar!" someone yelled. They were still in the cell. "It's another trick! Don't believe him!"

Peter groaned and looked at Bucky. "Psychological torture? Really?"

Bucky nodded. "They stage escapes and then follow up with more severe punishments for trying to leave."

Peter sighed. "Okay, um...What's something the Avengers have that Hydra doesn't?"

"They can't get a hold of the Iron Man armor," an adult said cautiously.

"And none of them are magic," the nine-year-old said. "Like that Vision guy or Scarlet Witch. You can't fake that!"

Peter put a hand to his ear. "Wanda, Viz, any chance you can come down and meet some fans?"

"Our wing's still occupied," Vision reported.

"We've got it," Clint said. "Nat and I'll take over. Go down and get the civilians out."

"We'll be down in five," Wanda said.

"I need to clear the area," Bucky said. There were still several hallways down here that needed checking. "Stay with them."

Peter gave him a salute. "Aye-aye, First Matey!"

"First what?"

"Well, we have a Captain, and you're his best friend. So you're the first mate."

Bucky blinked, then shook his head and walked out. The nine-year-old was giggling behind him.

Four rooms and eight bodies later, Bucky found a man in a glass cage. Entirely bulletproof. The man was in a suit and smiled when Bucky came in. "Hello, Asset."

Bucky growled. He didn't know the man's name, but he recognized him. This was one of his old handlers.

"Come out," Bucky ordered. "A SHIELD cell's better than a bullet to the head."

"I prefer Option C." The man pressed a button on his phone. The door behind Bucky slammed shut and the entire room went into lockdown. "Sehnsucht, verrostet..."

Panic flooded Bucky's veins. He shot at the glass to no effect.

"...schmelzofen, neun..."

Out of bullets. Bucky stormed up and pummeled the glass with his metal arm.

"...eins, guterwagon."

The Asset stopped punching.

--

Wanda was telekinetically floating the laughing nine-year-old--Anna--amid red swirls when Peter's spidey senses pinged.

He frowned, looking behind him. There was no one there.

"James, you okay?" he muttered into his comm. Everyone else called him Bucky, so it was allowed. But he and Wanda still called him James, from when they first met. Old habits and all that.

There was no response.

"James?"

Still nothing.

Shit.

Peter looked up. Wanda met his eyes and nodded. She set Anna down. "All right, Spider-Man and I have to clear out the rest of the base. Follow Vision to the jet, okay?"

Vision gave Wanda a confused look, but led everyone out. In minutes, Wanda and Peter were the only ones down here.

"Did Barnes take out his comm?" Natasha asked.

Peter shook his head, even though the assassin couldn't see him. His gut was tying itself in knots. "I don't know. We split a few minutes ago and he's not picking up."

Wanda's eyes were red. "He's coming. Just wait."

They waited. Peter's spidey senses grew louder.

"Something's wrong," he warned. He stepped forward, putting himself between the door and Wanda. Probably not necessary, but it was instinct.

The door opened, and James stepped into the hall.

"Hey, buddy, where's your comm?" Peter asked, keeping his voice light and friendly.

James said nothing, and marched over to them.

Peter tensed, ready for a fight. James swung just as Wanda yelled, "Shit, he's activated!"

Peter ducked under the blow and scampered up the wall. He'd done enough sparring with James to know that he was no match for the Winter Soldier. From the wall he shot webs at James's feet, but he moved too fast. "How do we un-trigger him?"

"It'll wear off in a couple of hours," Steve said.

"We don't have that kind of time!"

"I can do it, but I need to be touching him," Wanda said. She put up a shield to defend against James's punch, wincing at the impact of his metal hand. Thank God he wasn't armed.

Peter dropped to the floor, shot a web at James's back and pulled. He was yanked off of Wanda, turned and charged Peter. He didn't have time to get out of the way, and blocked James' metal arm by grabbing his fist. "Come on, man, I know you're in there." He judo-flipped James over his shoulder and onto the floor, then sprayed as many webs at him as he could to keep him down. "You don't want to do this. Once you snap out of it you're gonna feel so guilty and mope around the tower, and Steve's gonna mope, too, and movie night'll just suck."

James yanked off the webs and rolled. There were still webs clinging to his body, slowing his movements just a little. He charged Peter and slammed him into the wall. All of Peter's oxygen fled in an "oof!" Which was bad, because now James had a hand around his throat. Peter was face-to-face with the Winter Soldier's dead eyes.

Wanda came up behind him and grabbed his head.

James screamed as Wanda's eyes and hands went red. The sound made both of them cringe, and Wanda was shouting, "Sorry, sorry!" but she didn't let up. He let go of Peter's neck and dropped to his knees. Peter scrambled back, focusing on breathing while Wanda did her weird-but-cool mind powers. She knew James's head better than anyone, helping him regain his memories a few months ago, and Peter could not be more grateful.

The red stopped. Wanda's eyes went back to normal. James passed out.

"Is he okay?" Peter asked, checking for a pulse. Relief flooded him when he found it, strong and steady.

"His mind's in overload, but he'll be fine." Wanda's eyes went red again. "There are four more people down here, including the man who triggered him."

Peter grinned. His knuckles tingled as he thought of all the ways to reassemble that asshole's jaw.

But Wanda was pretty tight with James, too. And Aunt May always said it was better to share. So Peter decided to be chivalrous. "You want 'em?"

She shook her head. "It'll be faster if I carry James out and you take them down. Unless you want to lug him all the way up the stairs..."

"You are an awesome friend. See you top-side."

--

Bucky gradually woke up in his room in the Tower.

It felt like his brain had been turned to applesauce. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Here."

He jumped, then cursed. He was getting rusty if he hadn't realized that Steve was right there. He swiped the Tylenol and water from Steve's hands and felt marginally more human.

That's when Bucky realized he was still in his combat gear. He frowned. He remembered going into a fight, but not coming home... "What happened?"

Steve winced. "They triggered the Winter Soldier."

Ice poured down Bucky's spine. He desperately tried to remember. There was gunfire, they'd split into pairs, Peter was sulking, they found the captives, then...

"Ah, shit!" Bucky surged out of bed, and almost collapsed on the floor.

Steve caught him and put him back on the bed. "Easy. Wanda says your head's still not on right. It'll take a couple of hours for everything to straighten out."

"Jesus Christ, I almost killed Peter. I choked him!"

Steve shushed him. "It's okay, it's okay. They understand. They get it. Peter doesn't blame you one bit. They're both fine, no injuries. They arrested the man who triggered you and he's being interrogated by SHIELD. Nat called dibs."

That managed to bring a tight smile to Bucky's face. "I would pay to see that."

"You and everyone else." Steve straightened, keeping a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I'm going to tell the others you're awake. Wanda's cooking something delicious and snarls at anyone who tries to steal a piece of it, so it's probably your dinner. You really scared them."

Bucky cringed.

"Not like that," Steve quickly amended. "Apparently, deprogramming you like that hurt you? Wanda thought she screwed something up when you didn't wake up."

It had hurt. Like someone had taken a mixer to his brain. Bucky shook his head. "Better than the alternative."

--

The next couple of days were the worst. Bucky did his best to put it behind him, but every time someone tip-toed around him or tensed whenever he came into the room sent a knife to his heart.

Except for Wanda. She dipped into his head to make sure everything was tip-top before stuffing him full of food and demanding he take her out to the city, because "Peter's stuck in class and Vision's blowing something up with Tony." She was completely unafraid of him. And he relaxed around her, because he knew that if he was triggered again, she could take him down.

"They'll get over it," she said out of the blue one day. They were doing "touristy New York" and checking out the Statue of Liberty.

Bucky drooped. "How do you know?"

Wanda gave a sad smile. "Before you showed up, they were absolutely terrified of me. Even Vision. I almost left a few times."

Bucky tried to imagine the Avengers without Wanda. He couldn't. She was one of the first Avengers he met, her and Peter. "Why didn't you?"

"Peter was worse off. I couldn't leave him. I think the reason we both made it through was because of each other." Wanda shook her head. "You'll be fine. Give it a week. A month, tops."

Peter wasn't in the tower at all, due to midterms at college. Bucky thought it was for the best. He didn't want to see the bruises around the kid's throat.

On Friday, Bucky was alone in the living room, watching TV. Peter stumbled into the room, yawning. "Hey," he said drearily.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Just finished midterms and ready to enter a study-coma." He dropped his backpack against the wall and toed off his shoes. Then he dropped onto the couch and plopped his socked feet on Bucky's lap. "Nothing's on fire, so everything going okay?"

Bucky smiled, and started rubbing Peter's feet. "It'll be fine."

Chapter Text

Tony was master of all things, except taking care of himself.

And yeah, he was man enough to admit it. But only to himself. And maybe FRIDAY.

Steve frowned at him (was always frowning at him) when Tony stumbled into the kitchen for coffee. He'd run out in his workshop and he had to keep going for at least another five hours because he was so close to making this watch that turned into a repulser at the push of a button...

"When was the last time you go any sleep?" Steve asked.

Peter was also there, sitting at the kitchen table. It was one of his favorite places to do homework. The highlighter he was putting to his textbook paused at Steve's question.

Tony waved it off. "I can go longer. It's fine."

"FRIDAY?"

Steve was a cheater.

"Boss hasn't slept in thirty-four hours and hasn't eaten in twenty-two," FRIDAY reported.

"Traitor!" Tony accused.

"Tony!" Steve scolded.

"What? Some of us have full-time jobs and multi-billion dollar companies to run. Peter's not exactly Sleeping Beauty, either."

Peter gave Tony a look. "Even I make sure I get at least three hours of sleep a night. And I never forget to eat."

"And as you're an adult that's your choice to make. I'm an adult and this is my choice to make. See how that works?" Tony took his coffee and glared at Steve as he left. "If you butt into my workshop I'll sic Dum-E on you."

--

Of course, shitty sleeping and eating habits made for an even shittier immune system. It'd gotten a little better since removing the arc reactor, but not much.

"Boss, your temperature's at 103 degrees--"

"I know!" Tony snapped, firing another shot at the slimy tentacle-monster thing that'd crawled out of the Hudson and grown to the size of a skyscraper. Must be a Tuesday. He flew overhead and fired again. No effect. Sweat was beading his brow and pouring down his back, and despite the AC within the suit he was boiling. "SHIELD's got a sample of this thing and should have something by now. Get me the chemical compound so we know how to blow it up!"

"Aye, boss."

"Tony, are you all right?" Vision asked over the public channel. "Your flying is erratic."

Tony muttered a curse, narrowly dodging a swinging tentacle that took a chunk of the nearby building. "Kinda busy here."

Vision didn't say anything else, but Tony would've sworn that the android kept giving him odd looks.

Well, whatever. Tony had shit to do, all of the other Avengers were out here trying to kill this thing--or at least keep it from destroying too much of New York. Why was it always New York? Wasn't it Seattle's turn? Or Miami's? Or...

"Tony!"

Too late. The tentacle slammed into him, sending him straight through the building. His equilibrium was shot to hell, he was crashing through glass and steel, then falling...

"Got him!"

He wasn't falling. He was swinging. The end of a web was attached to his breastplate, and he was swung around the block and gently lowered to the ground. Spider-Man leaned over him, tapping the forehead of his helmet.

"Tony?"

He frowned, blinking the grit from his eyes as he tried to focus. Peter sounded...scared.

Tony cleared his throat and groaned. Shit, that hurt. "Still breathing."

Peter gave a gusty sigh and dropped his head. "Thank God," he muttered, quietly enough that he probably thought no one had heard him. "Are you hurt? Can you move?"

"I'm fine," Tony ground out. He tried to sit up, and his stomach lurched. He didn't vomit (that was extremely unpleasant in the suit), but he did crash back to the ground and tried to ride out the wave of dizziness.

"...has a concussion," Peter was saying. He sounded scared again.

By now, Tony was willing to admit to himself that flying the suit with a 103-degree fever was a stupid decision. But he couldn't string the words together.

"Wanda's figured something out, so it looks like we have it handled," Steve said over the comms. "Get him out of here, Spider-Man."

Peter huffed and started pulling Tony to his feet. "Come on. Let's get you to medical."

"Mrgh." Tony finally found his voice. "No m'dical. Tower."

Peter hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."

--

Peter was Not Amused when it turned out Tony wasn't hurt, but sick.

"Seriously?!" He grabbed Tony as he swayed after getting out of the armor and hauled him down the hall to the penthouse. "FRIDAY, how sick is he?"

"Boss has a temperature of 104.2 now, with severe dizziness, dehydration, and nausea."

Peter swore and yanked his mask off. "Dammit, Tony, you really need to learn to take care of yourself."

Tony snorted, letting himself be pulled into the elevator. "L'ke yer one t'talk."

"Excuse me?"

"L'st week. Twisted wrist. 'I'm fine.'"

"Yeah, I have super-healing and I twisted that wrist in the middle of the fight. You don't have a leg to stand on, buster." The elevator doors pinged open. Peter pushed and prodded Tony down the hall to the bedroom, helped Tony get out of his sweat-drenched clothes, and tucked him in. Just before Tony closed his eyes he saw Peter pull out of his phone. "Hey, Aunt May? How do you treat an idiot with a fever...?"

--

Tony tried to sneak into his workshop after three days in his room, but it was locked down by Pepper. So he was stuck with a tablet in one of the living rooms.

"I thought you were supposed to be in bed."

Tony looked up. Wanda was standing over him with her arms crossed, five feet and six inches of sheer annoyance.

"Got tired of the same boring walls. I should have a mosaic set up, mix things up a bit." Tony turned back to his tablet.

In a flash of red, it was in Wanda's hands. "We're making a deal."

"Is the deal you'll give me back my tablet and I won't flood your computer with porn?" Tony asked.

"That's supposed to be a threat? I'm sure Vision would love the inspiration."

Tony cringed. Yes, Wanda was a beautiful woman and Vision was pretty fine himself, but he did not need those mental images. "All right, then Hello Kitty reruns."

"Tony," Wanda growled. "I'm calling in a debt."

"What debt? Last I checked, you're living in my Tower rent-free, don't have to pay for groceries--"

"I know you feel guilty about your bomb killing my parents."

Tony's mouth shut with an audible click.

Wanda shrugged. "I don't see why, seeing that it wasn't your fault and what I did to you when we first met. But I still get wisps of guilt whenever we connect with telepathy. You're still beating yourself up over it and you've been scaring all of us with your complete lack of self-preservation skills. I think I know how to kill two birds with one stone."

"Team orgy?" Wow, was that the best Tony could do?

Wanda didn't fall for it. "From now on you're getting at least three hours of sleep a night, and at least one meal every twenty-four hours. Preferably more, but I'll take my victories where I can get them. I will be checking with FRIDAY."

"What am I, three?"

"From the way you sometimes act, I wonder." Wanda softened. "Please, Tony. We care about you too much to see you slowly killing yourself like this."

Tony glared at her. "And if I don't? What, you'll mind-control me?"

It was a low blow. Wanda bristled, but again, she didn't fall for it. "Nothing."

Tony frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," Wanda repeated. "Nothing will happen if you don't. We won't take anything away from you or punish you or anything. Steve will bench you the next time you're sick, and you will be sick again, and soon, at this rate. But in terms of actual punishments for treating yourself like shit? I won't do anything to you.

"But I will keep a record. Every time you go a night without sleep or a day without a proper meal, I'll mark it down. And the next time Peter insists that he can go on patrol with a broken bone, or Steve decides that therapy's a waste of time, or Bruce goes on a three-day binge trying to find a cure for the Hulk, and you try to talk them out of it, I'll show them your record."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Seriously? You're trying to turn me into a role model? I'm Tony fucking Stark."

"You're already a role model. I can't tell you how many times Peter's gone on a tangent about how you broke another scientific law and revolutionized a new piece of technology. With the possible exception of Steve, you have the most influence over him. He copies your behavior more than anyone else's. He wants to be just like you someday, and he's already halfway there."

Tony let that sink in, and felt his stomach turn to knots. He had no problem pushing aside his own health for the sake of the next project, the next mission, the next big break. Those were all simply more important. But watching it happen to someone else? Like Peter? Or Bruce? Both of them had enhanced metabolisms; if they went too long without food they risked serious damage. They already had bad habits of beating themselves up over the littlest thing, they didn't need to add Tony's obsessive perfectionism. And while they never had to worry about the Hulk getting sick, if Peter ever tried running out with a temperature of 103 the entire team would tie him to a chair.

"Fine," he grumbled. It felt like he was signing his soul over to the devil.

--

Weirdly enough, things got...better.

He felt like a kid sent to his room for being naughty every time FRIDAY reminded him that he needed to get his three hours or his meal (a granola bar did not count, for whatever reason), but health-wise he did feel better. Didn't need to drink as much coffee and he collapsed from sheer exhaustion less often.

He hadn't realized how tense the other Avengers were around him until they began to relax. Tony didn't understand why until Vision got a concussion during a mission. Tony was hyper-aware of his every move, ready to grab him in case he fell over (which he did, eventually). When he made the connection, he pulled up a video feed of himself before Wanda's deal and...yeah, he looked about ready to drop dead at any moment.

"If I'd known it would've worked, I would've blackmailed you into taking care of yourself a long time ago," Bruce commented during one of their science-binges, which also included Peter.

"It's not blackmail," Tony argued. "She simply has a way with words."

"No shame in admitting it," Peter said. "She got me, too."

Tony paused. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah."

"What'd she use on you? Porn?"

"Why does everything come back to porn with you?" Peter asked. "You know what, don't answer that. Let's just say, we went somewhere that was legal for me to drink alcohol at eighteen and she got some...incriminating photographs that Aunt May would kill me over if she ever saw them."

Bruce winced. Tony blew out a gusty breath. "That woman's a menace."

Peter grinned. "But she's our menace!"

Somehow, Tony didn't mind that as much as he should have.

Chapter Text

Bruce had thought--stupidly thought--that with the Avengers and positive public opinion and everything that'd happened, people like General Ross would back off. For crying out loud, he helped save the world! Twice!

Ross didn't care. If anything, it made him more enraged. Further justified his actions, because it was clear that Hulk could be tamed, to a certain extent. They just had to figure out how to make more.

So now Bruce was sitting in a cell. He'd been staring at these four vibranium walls for the past...week? Two weeks? The only time he got a different view was when they moved him to a lab. For experiments.

He rubbed his hand over his stomach, and the four parallel lines across his torso. He tried not to shudder. Thanks to the Hulk-serum, he healed extraordinarily quickly. The time the voodoo witch broke Hulk's arm and leg, he'd been out of the hospital and ready to go within six days. The vivisection had taken only four to recover from.

"You're going to regret this," Bruce said the next time he saw Ross. They were back in the lab, Bruce strapped to the table. His bonds were meant to expand and grow, but stay the same thickness and strength, so when he Hulked out he'd stay stationary.

Ross gave a twisted smile. "Is this the part when you tell me you're going to bust out of here and kill me in all manner of painful ways?"

"No," Bruce said. "I'd never do that. The Avengers, on the other hand..."

"They're not even looking for you, Banner. That gorgeous girlfriend of yours? Already has a new man."

Bruce snorted. "Liar."

Maybe a year ago, he would've believed it. But at this point they'd been together so long, they were more than just a team. They were a family.

And as for Natasha? Well, Bruce wouldn't kill Ross. But he'd punch him three or four times. They'd drugged and kidnapped him on the way to his date, for their two-year anniversary. Bruce had figured that was an excellent time to propose.

He'd recruited Wanda and Clint in helping him pick out the ring. They all kept it very hush-hush, but nobody could keep anything from Natasha. She'd probably known since day one. And Wanda had assured him that every time Bruce came up, the emotions Natasha hid so well oozed out of her. Adoration and fondness and love. Which was why Bruce hadn't been as nervous as he thought he'd be on his way to this very special date. Which Ross had so rudely interrupted.

Maybe Bruce would kill him.

Ross's face was inches from Bruce. "I'm a liar, am I?"

Bruce didn't even dignify that with a response.

"Then where are they, hm? Where are your mighty Avengers?"

"Well, it's not like you could advertise this place," Bruce said. "You must've hired some good computer experts to keep Tony at bay this long. Have fun with that while it lasts."

Ross glared at him, then straightened and walked out of the room. "Get started."

The next few hours were filled with Bruce's screams and Hulk's roars.

--

Bruce opened his eyes and frowned.

He wasn't in the lab. Wasn't in the cell. Wasn't really awake, as far as he could tell. It was an endless, sunny prairie.

*Bruce!*

He turned just as Wanda ran into him, squeezing him in a telepathic hug. *I'm so sorry it took us so long to find you! Ross went completely off the grid, wasn't using any credit cards or anything that Tony could track, not even Sam and Rhodes' contacts in the military could turn up anything, Thor couldn't go ask his friend on Asgard because of his dad, and it took Natasha and Clint ages to find a lead and--*

*Hey, hey,* Bruce interrupted. He knew the hug wasn't real, that their bodies were just figments of imagination here. But damn, it felt good to be touched in a way that didn't bring any pain. Just comfort. *It's fine. I knew you were on your way.*

Wanda made a pained sound. *They were hurting you. I could feel it. I knocked you out as soon as I could.*

*You're here? Inside?*

She shook her head. *We're right outside. Everyone's getting into position. You're hulked out. As soon as I let you go, you'll be Hulk.*

*How's that going to fit in with the plan?*

*Perfectly.* She kissed his cheek. *Don't worry. We're getting you out of here.*

--

Hulk does not like waiting.

He can hear the booms and bangs, very distantly. His ears are really good, but the walls are very thick. But he thinks those booms are familiar. Tin Man booms. Hammer booms. Jewel and Red booms.

There are many Bad People in the room with him, pointing bang-sticks at him in case he gets out of the metal ropes tied around his hands and feet and chest. Hulk's tried. He can't.

Tin Man's voice comes through the walls: "Attention all assholes. If you want to avoid getting pounded on by an Avenger, put your weapons down and come out like the whipped bitches you are."

Hulk grins. In the background he hears Shield's muffled, "Language!" and Tin Man's, "Oh, like you weren't thinking the exact same thing." Then there's a click and no more voices in the walls.

The room shakes. Something's gone boom again. Hulk roars, trying to escape. Trying to help his friends.

Then the door to the room goes BOOM.

All the Bad People in the room turn to the door and fire their bang-sticks. There's no one there.

Red tickles the back of Hulk's mind. *Close your eyes.*

Hulk closes his eyes. Something very bright goes off. When he opens them again, Spidey and Lullaby are smashing the Bad People. Well, they don't really smash. Not like Hulk smashes. It's all flips and kicks and twists. It works.

"Hey, buddy!" Spidey cheers. "Where've you been?"

"Bad Man mean," Hulk grumbles. "Not let Hulk leave."

"We'll get you out," Lullaby promises.

Footsteps comes down the hall. Lullaby and Spidey both look out the door.

"I've got him," Spidey says, turning to Hulk.

Lullaby runs out of the room.

Hulk whines. He likes Spidey. But he likes Lullaby more. And he knows she's very, very good at smashing, but he doesn't like her being alone while she's smashing because she could still get hurt.

"Let's get you out of here so you can help your girlfriend, shall we?" Spidey says. He tries to pull Hulk's metal ropes free. Doesn't work. Spidey looks around, then goes to the com-pu-ter in the corner of the room. "Ah. Okay, ten seconds to release. And then I need a manual key card..." He goes back to the smashed Bad People and searches pockets. He finds a white rectangle in the pocket of the Bad Person right by Hulk's feet. Just as Spidey stands, he freezes.

From Spidey's ear, Hulk can hear Shield's voice, tiny and far away: "Spider-Man, report. What's the status on Hulk?"

Spidey's hands are fists. They're shaking. "They vivisected him."

There is a very, very loud boom. Someone in the hall screams. Lullaby runs back into the room. She doesn't look mad, but Hulk knows she's very mad. "What?" she asks calmly.

The com-pu-ter beeps. Spidey jumps, then goes to it and waves the white rectangle over it.

Hulk's wrists and feet and chest are released. He grins.

--

Bruce comes to in the middle of a pile of bodies. They're all alive, though. And they're all his teammates.

Natasha's the one hugging him directly, with his face buried in her red curls. He sighs in relief, leaning into her. This is what he's missed the most.

Of course, having Tony, Steve, Thor, Peter, Bucky and Clint piled on top of him doesn't hurt, either. Vision is on the edges, smiling. Until Tony grabs him and pulls him in. "Join the party, sonny. Papa's home."

"Excuse me?" Vision asks, giving Thor an annoyed look as the god claps him on the back, pinning him to the pile.

"Well, Bruce and I are the ones primarily responsible for creating you," Tony explains. "With a little help from Uncle Thor over there. So Bruce is your Papa and I'm your Daddy--"

"Yeah, I'm going to stop you right there," Bruce says. His voice is hoarse and muffled. He's thirsty, hungry, and ready to keel over. He's never been happier.

Until he realizes someone's missing. "Where's Wanda?"

"Oh, she said she had to get something," Clint said. They start peeling away. Natasha stays with him, keeping him upright. "I don't know why. We, uh...had a little too much fun with the place."

"What do you...oh."

Bruce is fairly certain the place had once been a military base. Before an atomic bomb hit. There aren't two stones stacked on top of each other. The dirt is still smoldering from lightning strikes and repulsor blasts. On the edges are SHIELD agents setting up a perimeter, as well as Rhodes and Wilson (geez, they called in War Hammer and Falcon for this). Even Fury's there, keeping his eye on them as his agents round up the surviving military men and put them in cuffs.

"There she is," Bucky says, pointing.

There's a swirl of red in the distance that grows closer, until Wanda flies over to them and lands. "Look what I found trying to escape."

She drops General Thaddeus Ross at their feet.

Natasha steps forward, every muscle tense with fury. Bruce pulls her back. As much as he despises the man, torture has never sat well with him.

"Do we give him to Eyepatch or someone else?" Tony asks. "Technically he's still military, so..."

"Well, they gave him a dishonorable discharge after he went AWOL," Steve points out. "So I don't think he's under military jurisdiction anymore."

"And I'm under yours?" Ross challenges, getting to his knees. Wanda's powers prevent him from getting to his feet, otherwise Bruce is certain he's go toe-to-toe with Captain America. "You keep beasts and war criminals in your ranks. Monsters and assassins, for God's sake! What gives you the right to--"

A web shoots onto his mouth, sealing it shut. "Pipe down! The adults are talking!" Peter snaps.

Bruce stares at Peter. So do most of the other Avengers. They've seen Peter mad before. Everyone here's been enraged and furious during or after a fight. They'd have to be robots not to be. But Peter's never sounded this...vicious.

Wanda is one of the few completely unruffled by the outburst (her, Natasha, and Vision). "I'll just give him to Fury," she says, picking Ross up with telekinesis. "Let's get Bruce home."

Natasha tugs Bruce while the others move around him like a pack. Nobody stops them. Fury doesn't even demand a debrief. He just has Hill take Ross from Wanda and lets her join the others.

On the quinjet, Bruce's legs finally give out. Natasha and Peter support him to a cot so he can lie down. Peter gets him a bottle of water and Bruce could kiss him.

It's not until Tony has them in the air for ten minutes that Bruce notices the ring on Natasha's left hand.

She gives him a wry smile. "You left it at the restaurant."

His face is beet red with embarrassment, even as he's grinning. "Uh...rain check?"

"You'd better." She gives him a very soft, gentle kiss, and runs her fingers through her hair. "Get some sleep, Bruce."

--

Peter pulls off his mask and sighs. General Asshole had his little setup in Oregon, so they have four hours to kill in the quinjet.

Not that Peter's complaining. He's exhausted. The last eleven days have been absolute Hell, filled with grief and terror and rage. He would've fallen apart completely if it weren't for Wanda and Aunt May (that reminds him: he needs to call her and let her know everything worked out). It wasn't until Clint pulled some ancient strings that they finally found a lead. Now he's ready to sleep for a week.

Except he can't. Peter's looking straight at a sleeping Bruce, but doesn't see him. Instead he sees the four damning lines across his stomach, a declaration of unspeakable pain. He sees Ross, and all the ways Peter would've happily killed him. Slowly and painfully.

The only thing that stopped him was Wanda. She'd had to yank on his brainstem to snap him out of it. So he settled for shutting the bastard up and yelling at him.

He's still shaking. Whether it's rage, adrenaline, or fear and horror of himself, he doesn't know. Probably all three.

Clint notices, and sets next to Peter. "You okay?"

Peter shakes his head. He swallows, and speaks in a near-whisper. "You know that thing you said when you found out about Gwen and Uncle Ben?"

Clint nods.

"I really need to hear it."

Clint puts an arm around Peter's shoulders, grounding him. "You're allowed to feel angry and pissed and protective when someone hurts someone you love. But you won't sink to their level. Compassion is the one thing that separates you from all the evil bastards out there. They kill people, all kinds of people, because they're ruthless, vicious sons of bitches. You spare people because you are a good person who sees the good in others, even if it's only the size of a popcorn kernel."

Slowly, very slowly, Peter's trembling stops. He breathes a little easier. "Thank you."

Clint squeezes his shoulder. "Also, if you did kill Ross, Bruce would've given you his sad puppy eyes and moped around for a week."

Peter grins. "No, see, that doesn't help. Because I would've had three super-spies to help me hide the body, so he never would've known."

Clint raises his eyebrows. "You think I would've gone through all the trouble to hide a body I had no part in killing? I'm a busy man. I've got a wife and three kids. I don't have time for that shit."

Peter pulls out of Clint's reach. "What?!"

"Shh!" Natasha scolds, a protective hand on a sleeping Bruce.

Peter lowers his voice, hissing at her, "Clint wouldn't help me hide a body!"

"I wouldn't, either."

"What?!"

She shrugs. "You have to learn how to clean up your own mess."

"What the--I don't believe this!" He looks around the quinjet. Most of the others are in the back, out of earshot of the hushed conversation, but James comes out of the bathroom and heads for the front.

"James, you'd help me hide a body, wouldn't you?" Peter asks.

James stops. He frowns. "Whose body, how'd you kill him, and how much time do we have?"

"Ross. And I don't know the other two."

James shakes his head. "Too high-profile. And you're an amateur, so you'd probably leave too much evidence during the execution."

"Wow, really? No faith." Peter crosses his arms and pouts. "I thought you guys were my friends."

"No one's hiding any bodies," Tony calls from the front. "It's a PR nightmare. Pepper would have my hide."

"Wanda would help me," Peter says. He calls to the back, "Wanda, would you help me hide a body?"

She stops her conversation with a very confused/alarmed Vision and Steve and gives Peter a look. "Is it an Avenger's?"

"No! Well, maybe Clint's."

"Hey!" Clint scolds.

Wanda shrugs. "Sure. But you owe me."

Peter gives a triumphant grin. "See. That's true friendship."

And Bruce, who hasn't been asleep in the last five minutes, bursts out laughing.

Chapter Text

It had always been a possibility. Clint, Fury and Nat had done everything they could to get that possibility as close to zero as possible, but it hadn't been enough.

"SHIELD will deliver the weapons taken from the Chitauri invasion to me, as well as one billion dollars," said the villain of the week, a Mr. Rocks. He'd somehow managed to hack into FRIDAY, which had pissed Tony off to no end, and all the Avengers had found themselves in an unplanned teleconference with him. In their living room. When they'd been introducing Steve, Bucky and Thor to Lord of the Rings, son of a bitch...

Not all of the Avengers were present. Peter was on a spring break vacation in the Midwest, Bruce was at a science conference, and Vision was...actually, Clint had no idea where Vision was. Wanda had mentioned him going to meet a pen pal in person, or something.

Steve sighed. They'd been through this so many times, there was practically a script written for them. Clint sympathized with his boredom. "Or?"

Mr. Rocks smirked and turned to Clint. "927 Wildflower Lane."

Ice poured down Clint's spine. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.

"If you contact them, then the bomb I have placed in your basement will go off early," Mr. Rocks said. "If I see your Asguardian prince or Iron Man take to the air, the bomb goes off. If I see a SHIELD agent or Avenger within two miles of the address, the bomb goes off. You have thirty minutes." He blinked out.

Natasha muttered a Russian curse. Wanda frowned at them. "What's the address?"

"My family," Clint croaked. It was Sunday, all of them would be home. Mid-afternoon, Cooper and Lily might be in the yard on the playground Clint had set up last month. But how wide was the blast radius? And Nathaniel would be taking his nap in the nursery and Laura would be taking the time to catch up on her reading in the living room...

Thor growled. "He uses children as hostages?"

"He'll be watching the telephone lines," Steve said, standing. "Tony, tell me you can track him."

"What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?" Tony snapped, not looking up from his computer.

"Wait, wait," Wanda said. She turned to Clint. "Your family's in Illinois, isn't it?"

"Yes." More than three hours away by quinjet. And of course the guy was smart enough to think of Tony and Thor...

"How far from Chicago?"

Clint frowned. "It's a suburb. Maybe twenty minutes."

"Peter!" Bucky gasped. "He's spending spring break in Chicago!"

"And nobody knows that he's an Avenger," Steve finished.

"Exactly," Wanda said, smirking. "FRIDAY, call him. He's supposed to come home today, but hopefully he's not on the plane yet..."

"Hey guys." Peter's voice filled the living room. "What's going on?"

"Where are you?" Clint demanded, hope flickering dangerously in his stomach.

"The airport."

"Where?"

"In Chicago. Why? What's going on?"

Clint almost passed out in relief.

"Terrorists made a threat against the Bartons," Natasha explained, her voice calm and collected. "Bomb's going off in thirty minutes and we can't contact them or send help."

Peter swore. They could hear him running. "Okay, send me the address. I've got a spare outfit and gear in my backpack. How far?"

"Eighteen miles north," Clint said. "Middle of nowhere, on a big farm. You'll need a car."

"And don't wear your uniform," Bucky added. "Any Avenger gets too close, our friend gets trigger-happy."

"Nuts, I'm out of cash...uh, Tony, if I were to steal a bike and send you a picture of the license, could you make sure the owner gets reimbursed, or something?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep your conscience clean," Tony said.

"Right. Okay. Vehicle, no suit...Lost tourist asking for directions?"

"Perfect," Nat said.

"Peter," Clint said. "Thank you."

That was completely insufficient. No amount of words could express the sheer gratitude and relief Clint felt knowing that Spider-Man was on it.

Peter heard it anyway, and because none of them knew how to handle emotions he completely brushed it off. "Hey, I'm not missing out on a chance to see your kid in that Spider-Man costume. See you in a few." The line went dead.

--

"You put cameras in your house?" Steve asked, appalled.

They were on the helicarrier, on their way to Illinois. It'd been sixteen minutes since the call, and Clint was barely holding himself together. Hill was on the computer, pulling up the feed from the tiny cameras he and Fury had hidden throughout the house, to be used only in cases of emergency.

"Better safe than sorry," Fury said.

When the image came up, Clint relaxed, marginally. Lily and Cooper were having an afternoon snack of pop-tarts while watching cartoons. From the sound of it, Fairy Odd Parents. Laura was on her computer in the home office, probably updating her blog. Nathaniel was asleep in his crib, completely oblivious to the world.

"There's Peter!" Thor bellowed, pointing to another screen.

Sure enough, Peter was on a motorcycle right outside the house. He was frowning at his phone, then lifting it up, like he was trying to find a signal. He swore, shoving the phone in his pocket, and sighed. He looked at the house, shrugged, put the kickstand up and walked to the front door.

Everyone held their breath.

Peter knocked. Nothing exploded.

Laura was the one who opened the door, after looking through the peep-hole. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, sorry," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I got lost and I'm trying to get to a friend's house, but my phone died so I don't have a GPS..."

"Ever heard of a map?" Laura said dryly, smiling.

"Is that what cavemen used?"

She rolled her eyes. "Where are you trying to go?"

Peter looked behind him. On the cameras, Clint could see a momentary flash of panic on his face. Under any other circumstances, he would've snorted. Kid hadn't thought this far ahead in his cover story.

"It's another town, I think, called..." He started coughing, great big wheezing hacks that made his face go red. "Shit, sorry," he croaked. "Allergies."

Laura gave him a sympathetic look. "I'll get you a bottle of water."

"Thanks." He held out his hand. "I'm Peter, by the way."

"Laura." She shook it, and frowned. Peter pulled back and gave her a very serious look.

Laura closed the door and went into the kitchen. She pulled a piece of paper from her hand and unfolded it. Her eyes widened.

And this was why Clint loved this woman: she was no agent, had no SHIELD training, had spent no time on a battlefield. But she'd never lost her head, had once been an EMT, and those three trophies for riflery above the fireplace were not Clint's, they were hers, and you didn't get national awards by cracking under pressure. She took a deep breath and grabbed a bottle of water. Under one of the cupboards was a silent alarm that sent a text message to Clint, Fury and Nat and alerted FRIDAY and local authorities. Clint felt his phone ping. Laura told the kids to go upstairs and opened the door with a smile. "Would you like to come inside?"

The door was barely shut behind Peter before all masks dropped. "Who are you?" Laura demanded.

"Spider-Man." He yanked up his sleeve to reveal a web-shooter. "There's a bomb in your basement. We can't leave, or they'll blow it. We have ten minutes."

"Can you disable it?"

"I--" Peter's phone rang. He pulled it out. "Tony?"

Clint jumped and looked at Tony, who had his phone pressed to his ear. "Get to the basement, I'll walk you through it. I can see it."

"You can see the bomb?" Peter asked, following Laura to the basement.

"We have cameras," she explained.

"Creepy."

The basement was half-furnished, Clint's current project. He wanted it to be a man-cave. On top of one the almost-constructed bar was a black box.

Laura hissed when Peter pulled it down and set it on the table. She grabbed the nearby toolbox while Peter put the phone on speaker. "All right, Tony. Red wire, blue wire, what?"

"Let me," Laura said, pulling out the tweezers. "I have steadier hands."

"Really?"

"EMT. Seven years."

Peter nodded in admiration. "Cool."

"How the hell did they get that in?" Fury muttered, under Tony's sharp, detailed instructions.

"A pipe burst a few weeks ago," Clint said. "While I was gone. Laura had to call a plumber."

"...just like that?" Peter asked, aghast. Laura sighed in relief, setting town the tweezers.

"Yeah, it's a really simple design," Tony said. "Just don't pull that blue wire, or the countdown will resume."

"What's their plan B?" Laura asked as they went back upstairs.

Peter was holding the bomb, the phone resting on top. "No idea, but I'm betting it's not good."

"With the threat of immediate death gone, Anthony and I can go to them," Thor pointed out.

"Stark needs to stay here and help us track this guy down," Fury said.

Clint bit his tongue. He knew that, but he wanted a suit of armor between Asshole Rocks and his kids.

"I'll go with Thor," he said instead.

"I can carry one person with me," Thor agreed.

"Uh, guys," Bucky said, pointing to the screen.

Mr. Rocks apparently had an army. And they were driving into Clint's lawn. They were dressed in red Kevlar and packed shotguns and rifles.

Oddly enough, Clint didn't panic. Maybe it was the shock, but he had one clear thought: he and Thor couldn't face that many alone. But...

"Take Wanda," he ordered.

There was a beat where nobody did or said anything. Then Wanda and Thor nodded and ran to the top of the helicarrier. A minute later there was a sonic boom as they left.

On the screen, Laura and Peter had noticed the company and already acted. Nathaniel was on Laura's hip, the Cooper and Lily were pale and on her heels, and Peter pulled on his mask. They all went to the basement.

Thor's thunder cut the camera feed. The last thing Clint saw was Rocks' men firing into his house.

--

By the time they finally--finally!--got there, Clint was vibrating with rage and nervous energy. Nat was a steady presence at his side and Steve had a calming hand on his shoulder.

Even though he'd expected it, Clint couldn't help the gasp that escaped him when he saw the ruins of his house. It looked like the bomb had gone off, gutting it from the inside out. The bodies of Rocks' men were everywhere, as were the remains of their vehicles. But there were still a dozen more, homing in on a red-caped figure.

Clint was the first one out of the jet. Before he'd hit the ground he had loosed three arrows and killed three men. The rest, against the Avengers, were down in seconds.

Thor was the only one there.

"Where are they?" Clint demanded.

"They left," Thor panted. His skin was covered in dirt and grime. "There were too many. Wanda and I created a diversion so Peter could take them to safety; we used the enemy's explosive device. Wanda made it appear as though she had your family and drew half of the force to her while I held the rest of them here. I do not know where they went, but I know Peter is keeping them safe."

Clint snarled in frustration. Someone could've seen through the trick and gone after Peter. They'd used the bomb, someone could be hurt. They had to find them right now and--

Everyone's phone pinged.

Warily, they all pulled out their phones to look.

It was a group text, to all the Avengers and Fury. The first thing Clint registered was the picture: two dozen sleeping soldiers, wisps of red magic over their heads as Wanda's spell put them to sleep. The message read: "Please come take out the trash, as soon as it's convenient."

Another message, this one from Peter. It also had a picture, and Clint sagged in relief when he saw his entire family in the group selfie, safe and sound and whole. The text was, "UR invited to a cupcake party!"

"Is that a reference?" Steve asked.

Clint shook his head, grinning. "One of our friends in the next town owns a cupcake store."

Steve smiled. "Go on. We'll handle the clean-up."

--

The store had closed early, and the Barton family had completely taken it over. Cupcake wrappers were everywhere. Someone had found a crate of crafts, and Cooper, Lily, and Peter (mask off, costume gone) were building some kind of structure out of Legos, fake flowers, and webs. It was now five feet tall, and getting taller and wobblier by the second. Laura watched them with a soft smile on her face.

Beside her, Wanda had beaten everyone else to the "party" and was occupied with Nathaniel. She cooed and spoke garbled nonsense while floating Nate in red clouds, which Clint felt he should be worried about (she wasn't even holding him!), but wasn't. Nate giggled and shrieked and was having the time of his life.

Cooper was the first to spot him. He dropped his Legos and jumped to his feet, sprinting over. "Daddy!"

In seconds, Clint had an armful of Cooper and Lily. He dropped to his knees and held them tight, finally able to breathe for the first time all day. Peter was scrambling to save the tower. Laura got her feet and Nate dropped into Wanda's arms.

"Are you all right?" Laura asked as soon as she was able to hug Clint herself.

He gave a watery laugh. Shit, he was crying. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Laura had a cut above her eyebrow and Cooper had a bruise on his arm, but otherwise they were unharmed. Laura shook her head. "Your Avengers took good care of us. Although they tried to recruit Lily."

Clint stiffened. Much as he loved being on the team, this was not the kind of life he would want on any of his children. "What?"

Peter decided the tower was beyond saving and let it crumble. "Some jerk got up in my blind spot, and Lily took a baseball bat and wham. Right in the head. He was out cold."

Lily blushed and looked down at her shoes. "'M not joining the Avengers."

Clint relaxed. "Good. You'd give me a heart attack every week."

"Well, if she's not joining us, then she should definitely sign up for baseball," Peter said. He stepped over the shattered remains of the tower. He looked guilty. "Sorry about the house, by the way. We had to use the bomb and couldn't think of anything else to..."

Clint shook his head. "It's just a house. Fury'll relocate us; he's outside now."

"Relocate this to a new diaper first." Wanda shove a gurgling Nate into Clint's arms. "My babysitting duty ends here."

"Is that any way to treat your brother's namesake?" Clint snarked.

Wanda paused. "What?"

Clint blinked. "Didn't I tell you that?"

Laura brightened. "Oh, she's the sister..."

"I thought his name was Nathaniel," Wanda said carefully.

Ah, shit. Clint really should've told her this sooner. "His middle name's Pietro."

Wanda was completely still. The only emotion Clint could glean from her face was shock.

Peter was the one who broke the silence: "So you're naming your next kid Peter, right?"

"No. No no no," Laura said. "I'm not squeezing out another monster."

A knock. All heads turned to Fury. "Hate to cut the reunion short, but we need to get to a secure location as soon as possible. Stark hasn't found us our big bad guy yet."

"I'm staying with them," Clint said, in a tone that brokered no argument.

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't going to ask you to leave."

"Remember to keep me a secret, all right?" Peter said, winking at the kids. Cooper and Lily mimed zipping their lips shut. Wanda shooed them all out and into Fury's car. It wasn't until the doors were closed and they were on the road for ten minutes that Clint realized he'd forgotten to thank them.

--

Their relocated house was in upstate New York, only a two-hour drive from Avengers Tower. Clint got a month to settle in before he was called back to fight some robot...things. He couldn't complain too much. Four weeks incident-free was a goddamn miracle. And Natasha had bagged Mr. Rocks, so Clint's secret family was once again a secret.

The robots took thirteen hours to get rid of, though, and by the time they were done everyone felt like taking a long nap.

"I've got a final in two days," Peter complained around a yawn on the quinjet.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Wanda scolded. Then she brightened. "Speaking of..." She turned to Clint. "How are they?"

He smiled. "They're good." Then he did what he should've done right away. He hugged them both, stiff and startled, and said, "Thank you."

Chapter Text

It was dark. And silent. The only sound was her breathing.

Wanda didn't bother calling out. She knew she was alone; perks of being a telepath. She reached out with her hands, trying to find a wall, a piece of furniture, a weapon, something. But there was nothing.

"Ah! There you are."

Wanda jumped. So she wasn't alone. But that voice had come from...from everywhere.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Your nightmares," it said sweetly. "Let's see what we have here..."

The floor dropped from Wanda's feet, and she fell.

--

"Wanda!" Steve shouted into his earpiece. "Scarlet Witch, come in!"

She didn't answer.

"What the hell happened?" Fury demanded.

Dread settled into Steve's stomach. He smashed it down. "Avengers, SHIELD, fan out. Start searching."

They were on a mission. Originally it had been just SHIELD, but apparently they'd gotten in over their heads and called the Avengers. Only some of them had answered the call, since they were so many and nobody wanted to leave Avengers Tower empty, so it was Steve, Vision, Bucky, Peter, Thor, and Wanda. Fury was overseeing from the helicarrier, and there were about a dozen agents in the building.

They'd thought it was a telepath, but actually not. It was a mad genius who'd managed to create telepathic technology. He'd been trying to build prisons, both physical and mental, that trapped the victim in their worst nightmares, but was still working out the kinks. For example, when Steve walked into one of them, he'd been greeted by images of clowns, but he hadn't been afraid of clowns since he was a kid.

The prisons had incapacitated one of them, however, just not in the way their villain had expected. When Peter had seen Vision's very small, distant fear of Wanda and Peter making out, Peter had laughed so hard a pair of agents had had to carry him out. Wanda had giggled, her face as red as Vision's skin, and he'd rolled his eyes with an embarrassed smile and torched the room with his gem.

That had been seven minutes ago. They'd split up to cover more ground; the scientist's facility was huge. They'd lost contact with Wanda a minute and a half ago.

"Found target and Scarlet Witch!" one of the agents shouted. "East wing, third floor."

Steve took off sprinting, running into the other Avengers as they converged on the area. It was easy to find: all they had to do was follow the sound of gunfire.

It was a large room, but not one of the prisons. It had some sort of large canon-like device, with a lot more computers attached to it. It was turned on, and with a sinking feeling Steve realized that was one of the telepathic guns, the ones that trapped the victim in their own mind.

The scientist was face-down, currently being arrested by an agent. All the other agents were firing at Wanda.

She was curled up on the ground, so small and tight she could fit into the silverware drawer. She had a shield thrown around her, an impenetrable red dome that deflected the bullets.

"What in all the realms are you doing?" Thor roared.

"She won't come out," one of the agents protested. "We can't get to her with the shield up."

"So your solution is to shoot it?" Peter demanded.

"Whenever we touch it she attacks." He motioned to another agent, who had a significant lump on his head. Probably from being thrown into a wall.

"Ceasefire," Steve ordered. "All of you, out."

Disgruntled, the SHIELD agents picked up their prisoner and walked out.

"Wanda?" Vision called softly, slowly approaching. "Wanda, it's me."

"Don't touch the shield, man," Peter warned. "If she got hit with that thing, then she's probably not seeing us."

"She can sense enough of the outside world to attack an intruder," Thor pointed out.

"Not good enough," Steve said.

"She's a telepath," Vision argued. "She knows us."

"She's essentially having a panic attack. We. Can't. Touch. Her."

Until now, Bucky had been silent. He approached the shield until he was right in front of it.

"Bucky..." Steve warned.

He waved him off, not looking up. "Wanda, it's me. I'm going to touch the shield now, all right?"

"Bucky, what are you--"

He touched the shield.

At first, it pulsed, flaring into a bright crimson. But before it threw Bucky off, the pulsing...stopped.

"That's it," Bucky said gently. "You know my head. You've been in it so many times you could draw a map. You know I'm not gonna hurt you."

Wanda didn't move. But the shield dulled to its originally dark red.

"Okay, once you guys are calm, come over and help me out," Bucky instructed. "Don't think about anything angry, or worrying, or sad, all right?"

Vision was the first one there, placing his hand right next to Bucky's. Peter was next, going around until he was on the other side of the shield and following suit. Steve and Thor were quick to follow. Steve pushed as many good thoughts into the front of his mind as he could. He couldn't completely bury his concern, but he focused on the fact that they were friends, they were here to help, they were safe now, they were going to go home and watch bad movies thrust upon them by Tony and Clint and order take-out and...

The shield vanished.

Vision knelt in front of her, and carefully put a hand on her wrist. "Wanda? Can you hear me?"

She didn't respond.

"I've seen something similar before," Thor said, running a hand over his mouth. "There are some spells that do similar things as your Midguardian technology, although the dreams are usually pleasant, meant to keep the sick and injured asleep and happy as they heal."

"How do we stop it?" Steve asked.

He shook his head. "We don't. Wanda must come out of this on her own."

"Bullshit," Peter hissed. "How can we help?"

He hesitated. "Sometimes, depending on the spell, if the patient is touched they'll...sense the other's presence. Sometimes even hear the voice. With this, though, I'm not sure."

"Some people say comatose patients can hear things," Bucky pointed out.

Steve needed. "All right, let's get her back to the Tower. Vision, come on."

He didn't move.

Steve frowned. "Vision!"

--

They hated her.

Steve told her she was a freak, that her powers were devilish. Thor called her an evil enchantress, worse than Loki. Vision shunned her. Bruce blamed her for Wakanda. Tony said she wasn't welcome in the Tower. Clint said that if she ever went near his family again he'd shoot her through the heart. Peter...

Wait a minute.

Wanda went back to Clint. She forced herself to look at him, to listen to him as he hurled abuse at her. "I'm trying to raise my kids to be normal, for fuck's sake! I don't need you doing all your voodoo shit and--"

"You're not Clint," she said.

He sputtered. "What?!"

"You're. Not. Clint," Wanda repeated. "When he's angry, he's quiet. He didn't make so much as a peep when his family was held hostage, or said anything to me before Hydra kidnapped me. And he doesn't swear like that. So who are you?"

He glared at her.

Wanda tried to read his mind, but found that she couldn't. There was nothing there. He was...a shell.

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you?"

"Now look here--"

She put a hand on its chest and blasted it.

And there was a crack.

Everything once again became still and quiet and dark. But now there was a small beam of light coming in from the crack in the wall. Wanda ran up to it, tried to pull it wider with her hands and her powers, but it wouldn't move. She peaked outside, trying to get her bearings.

Outside was a yard. It was a bit dirty, and overgrown, in need of a mowing. There was a single tree in the corner and...

Wanda's mouth went dry. That was the yard of her childhood home, where she'd lived with Pietro and her parents. It'd been destroyed years ago, but it was still one of her "happy places," a place she went to ground herself...

This was her mind.

But this thing, this containment, this was not hers. Someone else had put it here. How...?

"Wanda!"

She jumped, and looked outside. There was Vision, looking at her through the crack.

She tipped her head. "Huh. My imagination's usually foggier than this."

Vision frowned. "I know that we're in your mind, but I'm not a figment of your imagination."

"You're not a telepath. How are you here then?" she challenged.

"I believe you...pulled me in, when I touched you," he said. "You use telepathy on us so regularly during missions that by now our minds recognize each other subconsciously. They reach out when in need."

Wanda poked him with her powers and realized that he was telling the truth. It wasn't like the fake-Clint; there were thoughts and emotions coming off of him. She covered her mouth. "That's...I'm so sorry, Viz, I didn't mean to..."

"None of that," he scolded gently. "You're in trouble and you're seeking help. That's why I'm here." He tapped the wall. "What is this?"

"I don't know. But it's not letting me leave. I only managed to crack it when..." Wanda's eyes widened. "When I realized one of the visions were false."

"You were hit with one of the telepathic rays, the mind-prisons," Vision said. "We can ask Tony if there's a way for him to reverse it."

That's right. They'd been on a mission...Wanda frowned. "I thought the technology wasn't fully developed yet."

"Since when has that stopped Stark?"

"Point," she muttered. "If he can't reverse it from the outside, I can probably break out on my own. All I have to do is somehow prove that everything it throws at me is fake."

Vision winced. "Some of it may not be fake. I'm certainly haunted by things that truly happened."

"So am I, but I still live with it," Wanda pointed out. "I still manage to spend most of my time out there rather than in here."

He nodded. "We'll help you through it," he promised.

Wanda smiled. She wanted to at least be able to put her arm through the crack to hold his hand or touch him, but it was too small even for that.

Vision suddenly frowned, then was yanked back by an invisible force until he vanished.

"Viz!" Wanda screamed. He didn't answer.

She was alone.

--

Vision jerked when they finally managed to pull him off of Wanda. He shook his head and blinked. Steve knelt in front of him, checking his pupils. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said. "We know how it works."

Five minutes later, they were sitting in a circle. Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek. "So she's essentially locked in the worst part of her mind, unable to access anything else or wake up fully?"

Vision nodded. He was rubbing Wanda's back, careful not to have any skin-to-skin contact with her as she whimpered softly. "Fear, guilt, and pain, as far as I can tell. But she knows how to break free.

"How long will it take?"

Vision shrugged. "Hours? Days? I don't know."

"Thor?"

"On Asgard, three to five days, usually," Thor said.

"We still have to move her," Steve said. "If nothing else, get an IV in her so she doesn't starve. And we can't do that if she drags us into her mind every time we touch her. Uncontrollable telepathy...that's dangerous."

"Your point being?" Peter asked.

"It'll speed up the process," Bucky agreed before Steve could point out to the almost-nineteen-year-old how easily they could become braindead or worse if something went wrong. "If she can talk to us and hear us as she's doing this, then we can help her determine whether one of these visions is fake, and if it's real we can help her get past it."

Steve hesitated.

Peter made an indignant sound in the back of his throat. "Steve. She needs us."

"I'm not refuting that," he said. "I'm just trying to see if there's a way we can do that with lower risks."

"How's that going?" Bucky asked, the little shit.

Steve winced. "Not well."

"I can't find any alternative, either," Vision said.

"We can get her to the Tower and tell the others," Thor declared, removing his red cloak. "It was a journey of at least an hour. One of us can help her battle her demons en route." He wrapped her in the cloak, which was so big it swallowed her. Careful not to touch her skin, Thor picked her up. "Shall we?"

--

It was not fun. But it was bearable.

Some of the visions brought up were so miniscule it was laughable. Like her fear of spiders. Wanda wasn't actually afraid of them, they were just gross. And it was bad luck to kill them in the house.

"I support that theory," Peter said, leaning against the wall dividing them and watching the imaginary spiders crawl out of a shelf. Wanda didn't know how much time had passed, but the crack was now the size of a soccer ball.

She hadn't been alone since Vision had been pulled out. First he'd come back, explaining the game plan. Then it'd been Thor, then Natasha, and now Peter. Sometimes she went deeper into the darkness, leaving them out there, because there were some things she just didn't want them to see. But knowing they were there waiting for her made it so much easier.

"Well, and it doesn't seem right when two of my teammates are named after spiders," Wanda added.

"Aw! You're my bestest friend."

Conversations like that chipped away at the wall a little bit more.

Other visions were much harder. Like when Bruce came.

Immediately the scenery around Wanda changed, and she was watching Wakanda being destroyed and Tony being beaten by a maddened Hulk. She hadn't forgiven herself for this one yet. It'd just been...buried.

"Hey. Over here." Bruce reached through the gap and tugged her by the shirt, forcing her to look away. "We put this one squarely on Ultron, remember? He manipulated you, and your brother. He convinced you that this was the only way."

"I know, I..." She bit her lip. Everything Ultron had convinced her to do could be put squarely at his feet. Yes, she'd been foolish, but she'd also helped destroy him. That wasn't what kept her up at night.

"Wanda?" Bruce prompted.

She took a breath. "Ultron used me. I used you."

Bruce gave a tight smile. "I know. And I forgive you. So does the Other Guy."

It took a minute, but eventually the sounds of people screaming and Hulk roaring faded. Wanda breathed.

Bruce stepped back. "I think you can squeeze through this now."

Wanda looked at the hole in the wall, which had grown considerable inches with Bruce's forgiveness. A regular person probably couldn't do it, but Wanda was petite.

"Help me, please." She hoisted herself up, and Bruce pulled her through.

And then something yanked her back.

Wanda yelped as she slipped through Bruce's grip and landed hard on the floor. "Dammit!"

"Wanda?" Bruce called, alarmed.

She got to her feet. "It's sentient. It won't let me leave, it has to be destroyed completely."

Bruce gave a frustrated sigh. "Dammit."

--

After Bruce was Clint, then Vision again, then Steve, then Peter again, then...

"How many more do you think you have?" James asked, sticking his head through the opening that was now large enough for a supersoldier to crawl through.

"I don't know," Wanda confessed, running a hand through her hair. God, she was exhausted in every sense of the word. She didn't even know if her body had slept. But she was also oddly hyped up. She wondered if the IV they had hooked to her arm had caffeine running through it.

She'd started seeing glimpses of the outside word. It looked like they'd taken her to her room, rather than medical. She'd spotted familiar cream-colored walls and crimson curtains before it'd been fogged over with more visions.

"What are you doing?" she demanded as James swung through the hole.

"This area's cleared," he said. He was right; there was so much light coming in through the hole and other cracks in the wall that the visions just weren't effective here. She'd had to go deeper to seek them out, so she could get out of here.

"So?" Wanda said. "We don't know what could happen if you're in here with me. You could be affected, too."

James gave her a look. "You went through my mind and held my hand through my absolute worst moments." He held out his hand, the flesh-and-blood one. "It only makes sense for me to do the same."

Wanda stared at the hand for a long moment, before she allowed herself to take it.

--

Vision was, once again, next. Wanda tsked at him. "Have you been sleeping?"

"Have you?" Vision countered, coming in through the hole just like James had. "You need to rest."

Rest sounded very good right now. But... "This needs to get done."

"You won't do anyone any favors by driving yourself to the ground. Emotional exhaustion is still exhaustion."

Wanda groaned, then sighed. The last batch of memories had been the experiments done on her and Pietro (of course that had been the one to go through with James). "You don't need to be here to watch me sleep," she said, coming over to the wall and dropping on the floor next to it, using it as back support.

"I want to," he said, sitting next to her.

"Avengers might be assembled," she murmured.

"They have War Hammer and Falcon if they really need it." Vision wrapped his arms around her and held her as she slept.

--

"It looks like it could collapse at any minute," Steve said, walking through the hole that was now a doorway.

"Really?" Wanda asked. "Still looks the same in here."

"Not out there. It's a ruin. I'm amazed it's still standing."

"Huh." She shrugged. "Fear."

"Fear," he agreed.

The next vision to go through was not a memory. It was a very real fear. A nightmare she'd had on more than one occasion.

It was some mission. This one was apocalyptic. That was the only word to describe something that had destroyed the city and killed all but one Avenger. Steve was impaled on the exposed pipeline of a broken building. The Iron Man suit was twisted beyond all repair, Tony still inside of it. Peter had a broken neck. Natasha, down. Hulk, down. Thor, down. Clint, down. Vision, down...

"Oh, I've had this one," Steve said casually.

Wanda blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, and it's usually my fault. A bad call made, or something along those lines." He shrugged. "I won't lie to you: this could someday happen. And when it does happen, it's not fun."

Wanda frowned, wondering where he'd know that. When it hit her, she winced. Right.

"How did you cope?" she asked. "When you thought James was dead?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, first, I found out that I couldn't get drunk no matter how much whiskey I had..."

"Tony's still trying to challenge that, isn't he?"

"He is. We'll be trying Thor's mead, next. Anyway, I got advice from a friend. She said, 'Don't deprive him the dignity of his choice.'" Steve pointed to his dead vision self. "I know there's a chance of that happening in real life. That's not going to stop me from suiting up the next time we're called. You know it could happen to you. Are you going to hesitate next time?"

Wanda shook her head, smiling. "No."

--

"Wanda?" Tony called, stepping over the crumbled remains of the Great Wall of Asshatery. It wasn't even a wall anymore. Just a bunch of rocks on the ground marking a boarder.

This part of the dreamscape wasn't much different from where he'd started, except that it was a little darker, and it felt a little...heavier. Like on a cloudy or rainy day, how it was just easier to feel sad and down on those days than when it was sunny.

He should've come here sooner. He'd wanted to. But he'd been trying to find a way to pull Wanda out of whatever hell her mind had locked her in from the outside, by going over the machinery. By the time he'd found a feasible way to pull it off, the rest of the team told him that she was almost out of it by herself, and he didn't see the point in doing a risky operation for the sake of time.

Also, he could barely handle his own demons. How was he supposed to help Wanda with hers?

Now Tony wondered why she was still here. The wall-thing was obviously down. So what...

Wanda was standing in the middle of the dark spot, arms crossed, staring down a toad-like...thing that was glaring at her.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

"The wall," Wanda answered. "Or rather, the sentience behind it."

Tony resisted the urge to poke it. It was shrinking before his very eyes. It'd be gone completely in minutes.

"They'll still be here," it croaked. "Everything you've done, everything you're afraid of, they haven't gone away."

"No, but everything I've done is behind me," Wanda countered. "As for everything I'm afraid of, most of it won't come true."

"And for the things that will? How long until one of your friends die, hm? How long until they turn against you? How long until he..." It tipped its head at Tony. "...kicks you out of the Tower?"

"Uh, never?" Tony said.

Wanda shrugged. "If any of those happen, I'll deal with them at that time."

"This man killed your parents." A faint, wobbly vision appeared next to it. It was a destroyed house. Two bodies were half-buried under rubble. Taking shelter under a kitchen table was a much younger Wanda and Pietro, staring at a Stark Industries bomb with a red light blinking at them, indicating that it should have gone off by now, could go off at any second. Tony cringed when he saw it.

"This man gave me a home," Wanda said levelly. "This man jeopardized his company and wealth when he realized his weapons were being stolen from him and used against innocents. Insult him again, I dare you."

The toad-thing was now the size of an actual toad. It looked beyond pissed, and scared. "You're a weak, worthless bitch."

Wanda stepped on it. It squished under her boot and died.

Tony stared at the black goop she scraped off of her sole. "Well, that was easy."

She gave him a dry smile. "You missed the main event."

He winced. "Well, you know. Madmen's technology isn't the easiest to crack."

"I know. Steve told me you went four days without sleep trying to reverse it. That goes against our deal, Stark."

"Oh, come on!" Tony protested. "That was extenuating circumstances. Totally doesn't count."

"Uh-huh." She motioned for him to follow her. "Let's get out of here."

--

Six days. It had taken six days to free herself. Six days of not really sleeping, not eating, and certainly not bathing. The first thing Wanda did (after Bruce had looked her over because he was the biggest mother hen) was spend an hour in the tub, dozing. It felt magical.

"Miss Maximoff," FRIDAY said as Wanda was draining the water. "Boss wanted me to tell you that dinner's in five."

Her stomach gurgled. Wanda toweled off, got dressed, and practically ran to the dining room.

Clint was setting the table. He brightened when she came in. "Hey, she's alive!"

She sniffed the area. "Chicken?"

"Soup. Bucky made it."

She paused. "James can cook?"

"Yes, I can, thank you for the tone of confidence," came the annoyed response from the kitchen. "I had lots of practice before Steve got the serum."

Steve poked his head into the dining room with a sheepish smile. "Homemade chicken noddle soup, since your stomach hasn't had any exercise in a while. Dish up."

Coming into the kitchen, it was clear Wanda wasn't the only one who was hungry. It was packed with Avengers with empty bowls, lining up like beggars at a soup kitchen. As soon as Vision saw her he put down his bowl and engulfed her in the hug.

"Ew. Take the cooties out of the kitchen," Peter said.

"Oh, grow up," Natasha scolded. "Wanda, good to see you on your feet."

"What'd I miss?" she asked.

"Well, let's see," Tony said, counting off his fingers. "The Patriots and Seahawks made it to the Superbowl, which is next week, guys in D.C. said something stupid and tried to cover it up by saying more stupid shit, we had to fight DoomBots again..."

"Wait, what?" Wanda pulled away from Vision. "You were called to Assemble?"

"Yeah, a couple days ago."

"It was a minor but invigorating battle," Thor said. "It took place over the sea, so no buildings were destroyed."

"For once," Bruce muttered.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Wanda said, frustration growing. "There was always--always--one of you with me this week."

"Yeah, of course," James said.

"But you were called to assemble."

"And I volunteered to stay home," Peter said. "I can't do much over the water, anyway. There aren't any skyscrapers in the Atlantic for me to stick to. I mean, it'd be cool if there was. The beach parties would be epic. Hey, Tony..."

"Sure, I'll figure something out," the genius promised.

Wanda rubbed her temple. "DoomBots are a serious threat. You shouldn't have done that."

"Too bad. Have a toast point," Steve said, thrusting a bowl of soup and toast into her hands.

Wanda took the soup with a glare, but didn't protest. She couldn't. After all, she would've done the same for them.

Chapter Text

"The Green Goblin's escaped."

Everyone in the conference room was torn between staring at Fury and staring at Peter. Fury had his usually serious face to accompany that little announcement. Peter's face was strangely blank.

"My aunt?" he asked.

"Already moving her into protection," Fury said. "If you want her in the Tower, that's your prerogative. Otherwise we can shelter her in a SHIELD facility."

Tony snorted. "Hell with that. My beach house has better security. And it's in Malibu. Peter, does your aunt want to go on vacation in Malibu?"

That wrung a weak smile out of the boy. "I'll ask her. Can we keep her in the Tower for now?"

"'Course."

"He's a solo act, but he needs to get money, weapons and resources from somewhere," Steve said. "Nat, Clint, you two still have contacts in the black market?"

"Doesn't matter if they do," Peter said with a shrug. "He'll come right at me, and soon. Harry's never been patient."

"Then I don't want you alone."

"Neither do I," Peter chuckled darkly. "The last time I took him on by myself I ended up with a dead girlfriend."

--

May looked around the guest suite in Avengers Tower, taking in the kitchen, living room, and bedroom with a king-sized bed.

"You're right on Peter's floor," Steve said, standing in the doorway. "The community floor is two floors above you. If you need help finding anything, you can ask any of us or FRIDAY."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," FRIDAY said, making May jump.

She smiled, turning to Steve. "This room must cost more than Peter's tuition."

"Probably," he agreed. "Peter comes back from his night class in about twenty minutes, and we'll be having dinner then."

"Who's with him?"

"Wanda."

May frowned. "I seem to recall that the two of them got kidnapped not too long ago."

"The Green Goblin isn't Hydra," Steve said. "But you're right. That's why Clint and Natasha infiltrated the campus as a professor and janitor. And I'm pretty sure Tony's hacked into their computers, even though I told him not to."

"The more I hear about your team, the more they sound like a pack of infants," May said.

"Worse. Infants with deadly weapons and genius IQs," he replied. "I'll show you to the communal floors, if you want to leave your things here."

May left her suitcase and purse in the living room and followed Steve into the hall.

--

Barely a week passed before they were called to assemble.

May hesitated outside the locker room, where Clint, Peter and Steve were getting into uniform. Thor had already changed and nodded to her as he passed. Other than Peter, he was probably May's favorite Avenger (not that it was a competition or anything). He called her "Lady May" even though he knew she was the farthest thing from nobility, was pleased by the smallest things like pop-tarts and stuffed animals, and told the craziest stories that did an excellent job of getting her mind off of other, less pleasant things.

Peter walked out, in costume but with the mask still in his hand. He paused when he saw her waiting outside and made a face. "Yes, I'll be careful. No, I won't do anything stupid. Yes, I'll do as Steve says, unless Tony has a better plan, in which case I'll do what Tony says. The entire team's being called out, so I'll have at least one person watching my back, probably two or three. I'm wearing Stark armor, which is better than Kevlar and a hundred times more comfortable. And at this point I feel obliged to point out that I am an adult and can make these decisions."

"Still a teenager," May said.

"Only for six more months."

"Still my nephew."

Peter shrugged. "Still Spider-Man."

May gave a tight smile and kissed Peter's forehead. "Good luck."

He beamed and put on his mask.

--

It was a twenty-foot, fire-breathing demon, leading a small army of human-sized demons. That was new.

Other than that, it was a pretty standard fight. Just long and tedious. Wanda, Thor, Tony and Vision were currently tied for Most Important Avenger, given how many demons they could take at a time. Peter mostly stayed with Hulk, his favorite fighting buddy, while the assassin triplets did their thing and Steve went everywhere, giving orders.

During a lag in the fight, while Peter was sticking to a skyscraper and Hulk was finishing off a pair of demons in their corner of the city, his phone beeped.

He knew. He just...knew who it was, what it was. And it was clever, getting to him while all the other Avengers were occupied.

Peter pulled out his phone.

It was a text message with an image attachment. Harry had taken a selfie of himself and a terrified Mary Jane, Peter's lab partner, friend, and crush. There was an address, and the words "come alone."

Peter looked up. He could slip off now, easily. Say he was chasing down a wayward demon so Steve wouldn't call on him. Harry would kill MJ the minute he saw any other Avenger; he may be insane, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he could take on more than one of them. And besides, demons.

So it was either alert the team, pulling a few members away from this battle into a personal fight, or just go off alone.

Easy decision.

--

It was the clock tower.

Peter felt strangely numb as he swung over to this evacuated part of town and landed on a nearby building. It wasn't finished yet, only a cement skeleton at this point. In the distance he could hear small explosions, thunder, Hulk's roar, the sound of Avengers fighting.

This was where Gwen had died. They'd patched up the holes and gotten the clock ticking again, but it felt as if her ghost was leaning against his back.

Go get him, she whispered.

Mary Jane was on the roof, her arms wrapped around her knees. Harry wasn't anywhere in sight. Not that that could fool Peter; his spidey-senses were humming in the back of his mind, and grew louder every second.

For a moment, Peter considered the possibility of a bomb. But that wasn't Harry's style. He wouldn't kill them from a distance, he'd do it when he could look them in the eye, when they could see him and hear him laughing.

Peter swung onto the roof of the tower, landing deftly next to MJ. "Hey, you're okay. You're okay, right?"

She wiped a tear and nodded. "I'm not hurt."

Peter pulled MJ to her feet just as he heard the hum of a glider. He pulled her behind him as Harry hovered about twenty feet away.

"I gotta say, Harry, you really don't know how to show a girl a good time," Peter said.

"Neither do you," Harry countered. He had that sick grin on his face, the one that haunted Peter's nightmares. "Your first girlfriend died here. I figured it was only right for your second to do the same."

"I don't have a boyfriend!" MJ argued. "I've been single since high school."

Harry looked between her and Peter. He grinned. "You haven't told her, have you?"

Peter shrugged, even as his stomach churned. "It's a pretty awkward conversation. 'Hi, my alter-ego's Spider-Man. I want to take you out on a date even though I have a hundred villains who want me dead.' Not the best pick-up line."

"Could do worse, Peter," MJ said.

Peter whipped around and stared at her.

She gave him the stink-eye. "I'm not an idiot. You always have bruises, you always disappear when trouble starts, and I recognized your voice."

Peter groaned, dropping his face in his hands. MJ gave him a sympathetic smile and petted the top of his head.

"Aw, how sweet," Harry cooed. He pulled a pumpkin bomb out of his armor.

Peter tensed. "MJ, you trust me?"

"Yes," she said.

He pushed her off the tower.

MJ screamed. Harry stared. "What the--"

A flash of red streamed down, caught MJ, and flew, phasing through the unfinished building across the street to get her to safety.

"Thanks, Viz," Peter said into his earpiece.

Harry fumed. "I said to come alone!"

"Right. 'Cause that worked out so well for me last time. Why would I come alone when I have Vision and two super-spies?"

An EMP arrow hit Goblin's glider. He started to fall. He threw the pumpkin bomb at Peter.

Peter was too slow.

He jumped off the building the same time the bomb went off. The force slammed into Peter like Thor's hammer and threw him into the unfinished building. He hit cement first, hard enough to at least bruise the bones in his shoulder, if not break them. He screamed when his leg broke. He went clean through one wall and smacked against another. Pain exploded in his stomach, and Peter gripped the wall for purchase. Thanks to his spider-abilities, he didn't fall.

Which was a good thing, because the fall was a long one. They were either planning on building an elevator here or they just hadn't finished the floor yet. Either way, it was at least a two-story drop.

Also, he was impaled on a pipe.

That part didn't register at first. Peter stared at the red-painted metal sticking out of his chest and didn't connect it to the pain of being stabbed for a full minute, not until his ears stopped ringing and he could hear his frantic teammates calling him.

He coughed, then gasped because shit, that hurt. He pulled up his good leg and used it to help him stick to the wall and hold himself up, so he wasn't torn open by the pipe and gravity. "Here," he croaked.

"Are you all right?" Clint demanded.

"No."

"How bad?"

"S-stabbed. And...and broken leg."

Clint swore. "I'm calling medical. Nat, go find him. Vision, as soon as the package is secured come back."

"Package?" Peter echoed. "You're not FedExing her, are you?"

"No, Peter," Clint said, a bit of fondness leaking into his business voice. "That's just how agents talk."

Peter swallowed. He tasted blood. He hoped he'd bit the inside of his cheek and there wasn't any internal bleeding going on. "Harry?"

"Secured. I've got him."

Still alive, then. Peter wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Others?" he asked.

"Wrapping things up," Clint reported. "It's mostly Wanda doing the heavy lifting now. Tony's suit took a lot of damage, and Thor's thunder is at the point where he's destroying more buildings than killing demons."

"Peter, I'm in the building," Natasha said, crisp and clear as if she was right next to him. "Tell me your surroundings."

"Up high," he said, then coughed. He almost screamed from the agony. He scrambled against the wall for purchase; he had to hold himself up to keep his weight off of the pipe, and it was draining him much faster than it should have. "No...no floor below me for...two? Three stories?"

"What are your injuries?" she asked.

"Pipe through chest." There was a lot of blood in his mouth. He wanted to spit it out, but his mask was in the way. He swallowed it. "Probably...internal bleeding."

"Got him!" Natasha called. Her voice echoed in the empty halls as she ran toward him, stopping right where the floor ended, seven feet away from Peter. "ETA on medical?"

"Four minutes," Clint said.

"Make it three."

Peter's arms were shaking. They hurt almost as much as the wound did. "Can't hold...much longer."

"Parker!" Natasha snapped, immediately drawing his attention. That was the tone she used in sparring when he messed something up. It was that unforgiving tone that meant "if you don't get this right, you die, so fucking get it right."

"Look at me," she said, a sliver more gently.

He did. There was rubble in her red hair and her green eyes were narrowed. She wasn't wearing her engagement ring, which meant it was in its box in her locker so it wouldn't get lost in a demon's guts. They hadn't figured out a way to give Bruce a wedding ring that wouldn't slice off his finger or shatter when he changed. He was considering a tattoo.

"When's my birthday?" she asked.

"November. Late November."

"And Wanda's?"

"September 3rd."

"Clint's?"

She ran through the entire list of Avengers, then had him go through it again. Simple names and numbers for him to focus on. The third time around, at Steve, strong arms wrapped around Peter from behind, under his armpits, and took his weight.

It was such a relief not to have to hold himself up. Peter's arms fell to his sides, feeling like dead weights. "Fuck, Viz. M'favorite."

"I saw the medical team on my way in," Vision said into Peter's ear. "They took the quinjet. There'll be here soon."

"Vision's birthday?" Natasha prompted.

"Two weeks," Peter said. He weekly patted Vision's arm. "Gotta getchya somethin'."

"I do hope it's not an Avenger t-shirt," Vision said. "I still have the one you gave me for Christmas; I don't need another."

"Nah. Sweatpants..."

"Peter!" Natasha shouted.

Another wave of pain. Peter lurched forward, grabbing the pipe sticking out of him as he gasped, trying to breathe. Tears leaked out of his and bled through the mask. Two of Vision's fingers were pressing against his wound. It took forever for him to stop.

"I'm sorry, but you need to stay awake," Vision said. There was a very faint tremor in his voice. Peter probably wouldn't have noticed it if he wasn't mashed up against him. "I do not want to have to explain to Wanda how her best friend died in my arms."

The only sound Peter could make was a whimper. He was gripping the pipe with both hands so hard it was starting to warp under his fingers.

It was too much. A broken bone, he could handle. Getting shot/stabbed, he could handle that, too. But both at the same time? After seeing Harry again, after seeing where Gwen had died, after endangering Mary Jane and Aunt May...it was too much. He couldn't be strong anymore. Couldn't even be Spider-Man anymore. He just wanted to get out of here and go home.

Vision tightened his grip on Peter. "I'm going to take off your mask, all right? It'll make it easier to breathe."

He tugged the mask off of Peter's face. He was right, he was easier to breathe. More blood had pooled in Peter's mouth. He gathered it up and spat it out.

"Avengers!"

Peter and Vision looked down. The medical team was there with a stretcher. Looking down, Peter noticed a long line of blood staining the wall and dripping down to the floor.

"Ready?" Vision asked.

Peter took as deep a breath as he could manage and nodded.

Sliding off of the pipe with Vision's powers was a lot less painful than having it wrenched out of Peter's chest, but it still hurt like a bitch. The sudden absence of pressure made Peter cry out as Vision gracefully lowered them to the ground.

Immediately the medical team was on him. He heard words like "severe blood loss" and "bad break," but passed out before he could make sense of them.

--

Peter woke up, briefly, on the quinjet. The team had spent so much time here traveling from one place to another that he knew that silver ceiling by sight. On his right was a SHIELD medical person, hopefully a doctor, fiddling with an IV in Peter's arm. On his left was Thor, who hadn't noticed he was awake yet. He was staring at Peter's stomach, looking worried.

Peter moved his fingers, brushing them against Thor's. The prince jumped, startled, and zeroed in on Peter's face. He took Peter's hand in his own. Peter gripped it like it was a lifeline.

"I'm scared," he said. His voice was barely more than a whisper, and so small.

Thor gave a weak smile. "As am I."

"I'm not that worried," Tony said casually, coming into Peter's line of sight at his feet. He was still in the Iron Man armor, only his helmet removed. It was scraped to hell, hardly any gold or red left on it. "You know why? Because if you die, then your aunt is going to kick all of our asses, starting with Steve because he's the leader. And then Clint, Nat, and Viz for being there with you. Then me, because that's my armor you're wearing, and then everyone else, and then Fury and Hill for good measure. I don't want that. Thor, do you want that?"

Thor's smile gained a little strength. "No, I do not wish for Lady May to fight me. She's as fierce as my mother was."

"Nat, you want that?" Tony asked, calling over to where Peter couldn't see.

"No, I have plans."

"Viz?"

"Certainly not."

"There, see?" Tony said. "None of us want that to happen. Which means you don't want that to happen. Which means you're not gonna die, because you're one of the most stubborn sons of bitches I know, right up there with Cap and myself. You'll be fine."

Peter would've chuckled if it didn't hurt so much. "'re ramblin'."

"Rambling? I'm not rambling. And even if I was, I'm totally allowed to ramble. This is my jet you're bleeding all over. I make the rules, and I say rambling's allowed, but dying is not. So there."

"We need to get him prepped for surgery," the SHIELD medical person said. She pulled out a needle filled with a clear something and squirted it into Peter's IV. "We're landing on the hospital's helipad in less than a minute..."

Those were fast sedatives. Peter was out before she finished that sentence. Thor never let go of his hand.

--

Clint and three SHIELD agents dragged a chuckling Green Goblin into custody. SHIELD HQ had holding cells strong enough to hold the Hulk in its basement.

"He pushed her off the building," Osborn giggled. "I did not see that coming. Thought he'd turned villain on me for a second there."

"I should put an arrow through your eye and out the back of your skull," Clint growled.

"But you won't," Osborn sang. "It's against the rules."

They turned a corner, almost to the cells, and Clint froze. "Mrs. Parker?"

May Parker was standing next to a junior agent, her arms crossed and tapping her foot against the floor. Her eyes were red, and locked onto Osborn. "He was your friend," she said, her voice low and steady. "One of your best friends."

Osborn snorted. "Friends don't let friends die. He had a chance to save me, he didn't take it. So I did." He grinned. "And I can see why he hoarded it for himself. The power, the strength..."

"He didn't kill you," she said. "He should have, but he didn't."

"That's because he's WEAK!" Osborn roared. Clint and the agents struggled to contain him and pulled him through the hallway. Fucking super-strength. "He's weak and pathetic and he thinks he's better than me! Better than all of us! And I am going to tear him down, I'll do it piece by piece if I have to." He managed to elbow an agent in the gut and lunge at May.

There were two other agents, plus Clint. And three feet of distance between Osborn and May. In all likelihood, they could've restrained Osborn before he got to May.

But they never got to. May grabbed the junior agent's gun from his holster, aimed it at Harry Osborn's head, and pulled the trigger.

The shot was deafening. Osborn dropped in a red and green heap at their feet.

They all stared at May. May stared at the body. There was nothing on her face but a few specks of blood. No hatred, no anger, no satisfaction. Nothing. She handed the gun back to the open-mouthed agent and walked out of the hall.

Clint looked between the body and where May had disappeared. He should probably arrest her, or something. Even though it was sort of self-defense. There would be paperwork involved. A statement, at least.

Clint ordered the agents to clean up the body and followed May out of the building. If Fury gave him shit for it later, he'd deal with it then.

--

Steve yanked down his cowl as he stepped into the hospital waiting room, Wanda, Bruce and Bucky right behind him. "What happened?"

All the other Avengers were there, plus May Parker. Thor was sitting next to her, with a hand on her shoulder. Clint was pacing, Nat was cleaning her nails with a knife, Tony fiddled with his phone, and Vision sat still and quiet.

Clint didn't stop pacing. "Goblin threw a bomb and the blast knocked Peter onto an exposed pipe. The doctors give him fifty-fifty."

"He has super-healing," Bruce argued.

"That's why it's fifty-fifty, not one in three."

It hit Steve like a physical blow. He dropped into a chair and ran a hand through his hair.

Bucky flicked his ear, with his metal hand. "None of that."

"Ow! Bucky!"

"You were thinking that you should've sent more people with Peter against Goblin," he said. "Who else could you have sent? We needed at least three heavy-hitters to deal with the demons. You couldn't send Hulk, because it had to be discreet, and you and I were all the way on the other side of the city."

"Four was more than enough," Nat agreed. "I barely did anything."

"It was a bomb," Tony added. "Bombs are unpredictable."

Steve took a deep breath. They were right, of course. And this wasn't about him, anyway. "Is Goblin secure?"

Clint faltered. "Uh..."

"I put a bullet in his skull," May growled, pinning Steve with a glare. "Is that secure enough?"

That completely threw Steve in for a loop. And everyone else in the room besides Clint, given all the looks everyone was giving her. Thor pulled his hand away, as if he suddenly realized he'd been petting a lion instead of a kitten.

"Huh," Tony said.

"If you don't mind me asking," Steve said at length. "If you just committed a murder--"

"It was self-defense," May said. "He lunged, I grabbed a gun and shot him."

"There just happened to be a gun lying around..."

"Junior agent," Clint explained.

"Ah." Steve let the matter drop. Thor gave May a wary look before he shrugged and returned his hand to her shoulder. Nat and Clint had one of their silent conversations that seemed to satisfy her. Steve leaned back in his seat. He wouldn't be shedding any tears for Goblin, and he doubted Peter would, either.

--

Steve sent half the team home to wash up and rest, basing his decision on who was closest to Peter and hadn't been a hulk half an hour ago. So he, May, Wanda, Clint, Vision, and Bucky were the only ones in the waiting room two hours later.

Wanda suddenly looked up, and smiled. "They've stabilized him."

Clint let out a gusty sigh while Bucky whooped. Steve gently tsked at Wanda. "Telepathy, young lady."

She rolled her eyes. "The relief from the doctors is pouring out of the room. I didn't need to read any minds."

The doctor came out a short while later and confirmed that Peter was stable. They'd stitched up the wound and put a cast on his leg. The broken leg had actually been bad enough to contribute to the blood loss. He needed to stay in bed, get plenty of rest, no strenuous activity for at least three weeks, et cetera et cetera...

"Can we see him?" Steve asked.

Peter was pasty white, almost as pale as the blankets, and so tiny in that hospital bed. There was an IV in his arm and a blood transfusion. The cast around his leg was huge and pale blue. Steve smiled and knew it'd be covered in signatures and doodles long before they took it off. Probably before Peter even woke up.

Wanda marched right up to the bed and put her hand on Peter's cheek. There was a quick swirl of red, and she smiled. "He's not thrilled about the upcoming hospital food. If he's still here for Viz's birthday, we should smuggle in some cake."

May gave a wet laugh and went over to Peter's other side. "Does we know we're here?"

Wanda nodded. "There only needs to be one Avenger, though. It'll be a while before he wakes up. We should get some rest."

Steve was opening his mouth to volunteer for the first shift, but Bucky was already pulling him to the door. "Oh, no you don't. You're covered in rubble and demon blood."

Vision pulled up a chair. "I'll stay."

--

Waking up was unpleasant. Pain throbbed through him, so he knew he'd already been weaned off of the good stuff. But there were people out there. He could hear their gentle conversation above the heart monitor, and there was the echo of a memory of another mind with his, filled with love and compassion, telling him that he wasn't alone.

When Peter opened his eyes, he automatically recognized a hospital room. He'd been in SHIELD medical plenty of times before, although usually not for himself. He'd only been the patient a handful of times.

Aunt May was sitting next to him, looking absolutely exhausted. She was talking to Tony, who was at the foot of the bed.

He tried to speak, but his throat was too dry. He barely managed a cough.

It launched May and Tony into action. May fell over Peter and hugged him, and he couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying. Tony stuck his head into the hallway and called for a doctor.

"You're very lucky," the doctor said, once they'd managed to pry Aunt May from Peter and get him something to drink. "It brushed against your lung and liver, but didn't do enough damage to be fatal. Stay in bed, nothing strenuous...you're an Avenger, you know the drill."

Peter nodded and watched the doctor leave. Tony had migrated back to the foot of the bed, and only now did Peter recognize the sound of a pen squeaking. He pressed the button to fold his bed forward so he could see his legs.

"Are you drawing schematics on my cast?" Peter asked.

"I need to prove that I'm a better drawer than Clint," he defended. "And schematics are all I know how to draw."

The cast was covered with signatures and doodles. Peter recognized Bruce's sloppy scrawl, Thor's Asguardian runes, and a hawk drawn by Clint. On the entire left side of the leg was a rough sketch of Samwise Gamgee fighting Shelob; Steve had spent an hour or two in here, then.

"By the way, Osborn's dead," Tony said, not looking up from his sketch. Aunt May stiffened.

Peter blinked. "He survived the fight. Clint said so."

"He tried to escape SHIELD custody. Didn't go too well. Ended up shot." This time he did look up. "So...you know, it was quick."

Peter didn't say anything. Just watched Tony finish the schematics to a cell phone on the arch of Peter's foot.

Aunt May took his hand. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

She gave him a searching look. "How do you feel?"

Peter shrugged. "Nothing. I wasn't ever going to kill him and didn't really want him dead, but it's not my job to save him. Especially when he tries to kill my friends."

Aunt May smiled and squeezed his hand. "Good."

"Man of Spiders!"

Thor strode in through the door and gave Peter a back-breaking hug. "It is good to see you woken, Peter. Our home is not nearly so lively without you in it."

"Yeah, there aren't nearly as many explosions going on in one of the workshops or labs," Clint said, hanging behind Thor. "And the fridge actually has food in it."

Thor pulled back and turned to Tony. "The lady Pepper asked me to remind you of a meeting you must attend."

"But this is where the cool kids are," Tony protested.

"Very true," Clint said. "Out."

"Lady May, I think you should follow him," Thor suggested. "You look rather tired."

"Oh, I'm fine," she insisted.

Peter sighed. "Aunt May, I love you. Please go home; you look like shit."

"Peter!"

"You speak to your elders in that way?" Thor demanded.

"When they look like they haven't slept or eaten in I-don't-know-how-many-days, yeah," Peter defended. "If I have to get Wanda in here to blackmail you into taking a nap the way she did to Tony, I will."

"We'll keep an eye on him," Clint promised.

May looked between the four of them and sighed. She kissed Peter's forehead. "Call me if anything happens."

Clint gave her a two-fingered salute. She and Tony left the room.

Peter sagged into the bed. "Doctor says I'll be here for at least a week."

"You sustained grievous injuries," Thor said. "You need the rest."

"Yeah, and I need to teach Thor how to play poker without Tony or Nat here to take all my money," Clint said, pulling out a deck of cards. "You play?"

--

Hospital stays are rarely fun. Especially long ones. But Peter didn't mind this one so much. There was always at least one other person in the room with him. MJ visited a couple of times; that was awkward.
("So I'm Spider-Man and have a crush on you big enough that a supervillain used you as a hostage. You wanna go out?"
"Sure."
"...wait, what?")

Aunt May was a constant; if she wasn't at work or wasn't sleeping at home, she was here. And there was usually an Avenger with her. Sometimes Peter would accidentally fall asleep in the middle of one of Thor's war stories and wake up to Steve and his sketchbook. Nobody minded. James and Nat attempted to teach him Russian. Wanda curled up next to him in his bed (they were both small enough that it wasn't very awkward) and they watched Netflix on her tablet. Vision read Harry Potter and the Percy Jackson Series to him. Clint helped him skype with the rest of the Barton family. He, Tony and Bruce talked science, either doing serious work on an actual invention or calling out the BS in science fiction movies and shows they watched.

By the time Peter walked out of the hospital, he was almost sorry to leave.