the escape
Tony strode down the dim corridor of the Raft, coming to a stop outside the first occupied cell. Sam Wilson sat on the floor inside, glaring at Tony through the plexiglass door.
"What do you want, Stark?" he bit out.
"Good to see you too, Birdman," Tony replied breezily. "Just came by to chat. Maybe you can tell me where your pals Steve and Natasha might be hiding out these days?"
Sam let out a derisive laugh. "You really think I'm gonna help you hunt down my friends?"
"Was worth a shot," Tony said with a shrug. He peered closer at Sam's face. "Gotta say, prison life doesn't seem to be agreeing with you. You should see about getting a moisturizer in here."
Sam surged to his feet, fists clenched. "Why are you really here, Stark? To gloat?"
Tony held his hands up placatingly. "Take it easy, Gandhi, I come in peace. Just tying up loose ends." His face hardened. "You made your choice, Wilson. Now you get to live with the consequences."
He turned and continued down the hall to the next cell holding Clint Barton. The archer was pacing like a caged lion, visibly agitated.
"Well you look cheery," Tony remarked as he stopped in front of the cell. "I'm guessing room service in this place leaves something to be desired?"
Clint whirled on him furiously. "Cut the quips, Stark. We both know why you're here, so let's get this over with."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Why Clint, you wound me. Can't I just stop by to catch up with an old friend?"
"You can't call us friends, Stark." Clint snarled. "Friends don't lock up each other, especially when they know they are innocent."
"Innocent, guilty, it's all a matter of perspective," Tony mused. "For example, some people might consider you a criminal for aiding and abetting wanted fugitives."
Clint stepped right up to the glass, eyes blazing. "Steve was trying to save a friend. Something you'd know nothing about, since you don't have any."
Tony stiffened, face clouding over. "Careful, Barton. I'd watch my mouth if I were you." He shook his head in disgust. "Enjoy your cage. Can't say you don't deserve it."
Ignoring Clint's angry curses, Tony continued on. Scott Lang was housed in the next cell, and looked up in surprise at Tony's approach.
"Uh, hey Iron Man. Here to iron out some wrinkles in my sentence?"
Tony cocked his head. "Cute. Guess they didn't confiscate that smartass wit of yours."
Scott shrugged. "Hard to take a man's sense of humor in prison. It's all I've got left."
"Yeah, orange is real slimming too," Tony quipped. He studied the ex-con appraisingly. "I'll say this for you, Lang - you don't seem nearly as pissed to be locked up as the rest of Cap's groupies."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "Not my first time in the slammer. Doubt it'll be my last. A thief's got to take the crooked path once in awhile." He leaned back against the wall casually. "I ain't losing sleep over this pit stop. My conscience is clear."
Tony's mouth twisted wryly. "A clear conscience. Must be nice." He rapped the glass door with his knuckles. "Well, enjoy your stay. The security here is top-notch, in case you were thinking of pulling a prison break."
Scott waved jauntily as Tony departed. Making his way deeper into the Raft, Tony steeled himself for the next confrontation - Wanda Maximoff. Out of all Rogers' rogue recruits, she had him most concerned.
Wanda stood perfectly still, watching Tony's approach. The straitjacket and shock collar they'd forced on her made his stomach twist with unease. Still, she unnerved him too much to protest her treatment.
"Back again so soon?" Wanda asked tonelessly.
"Just making the rounds, ticking boxes." Tony kept his voice neutral. "Comfortable?"
Wanda's eyes flashed with banked fury. "You know I am not. You helped put me here, after all."
Tony shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, choices have consequences. You backed the wrong team."
"Perhaps," Wanda said quietly. "Or perhaps you are simply afraid of what you cannot control."
Tony bristled at the implication. "The world's a safer place with you contained. Even if Rogers doesn't see it."
Pain flickered across Wanda's face. "Steve sees the truth in people, even when they cannot see it themselves. It is a gift." Her gaze seemed to bore into Tony's soul. "There is goodness in you. But it is buried deep within the fear."
Tony broke eye contact, unsettled by her perception. "Right. Well, this has been sufficiently uncomfortable." He took a step back from the cell. "I'd say it's been nice chatting, but..."
"Wait," Wanda interjected. Tony paused.
"Please," she implored, "if you find them, do not hurt Steve or Natasha. Whatever comes, have mercy."
Tony pressed his lips together. Then he turned and strode away without responding.
Finally, he came to the last cell. Peter sat on his cot solemnly, head jerking up as Tony stopped outside. The kid leapt to his feet.
"Mr. Stark! I didn't think we were allowed visitors."
Tony regarded him impassively. "Special privileges. Being Tony Stark has its perks."
Peter came closer, wringing his hands nervously. "Listen, Mr. Stark, about everything that happened..."
Tony held up a hand, cutting him off. "Save it, Underoos. Nothing you can say will fix this mess." He sighed, some of the fight going out of him. "I just have one question - did you know?"
Peter blinked, confusion creasing his forehead. "Did I know...?"
"About Barnes. That he murdered my parents." Tony's jaw was tight.
"No!" Peter exclaimed. "No, Mr. Stark, I swear. I didn't know until you said something back at the airport." He met Tony's gaze earnestly. "I never would have kept that from you."
Tony searched the kid's face, then finally nodded. "Okay. I believe you."
Peter sagged in relief. "I really am sorry," he offered weakly.
Tony's expression softened slightly. "I know, kid. You tried to do the right thing. Can't fault you for that." He rapped the glass lightly. "Hang in there. Your folks clearly have a penchant for daring heroics. I'm sure they're cooking up a rescue plan as we speak."
He turned and retraced his steps back down the corridor, Peter's whispered "thank you" echoing behind him.
Tony had one stop left to make. T'Challa was waiting for him near the exit. The king of Wakanda inclined his head in greeting. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Tony shrugged. "Nope. But I planted the seeds. Now we wait." He met T'Challa's gaze. "Remember, no casualties. Capture only. I just want to get to Rogers, Barnes and Romanoff before they disappear completely."
T'Challa nodded. "I gave you my word. They will remain unharmed."
Tony clapped his shoulder. "Good man. Then let's get into position. If I know Steve, he'll be coming for his team any day now."
Two nights later, Steve and Natasha infiltrated the Raft under cover of darkness. Slipping past the patrolling guards, they descended into the bowels of the prison.
Steve paused outside Wanda's cell, features tightening at the sight of her straitjacket and collar. "I'll come back for you," he promised softly before moving on.
Natasha disabled Sam's cell first, embracing him briefly when he stepped out. She quickly freed Clint and Scott as well, while Steve released Peter.
He swept his son into a crushing hug. "You okay, Pete?"
Peter hugged him back just as fiercely. "I am now. I knew you'd come."
Natasha wrapped her arms around them both. "Of course we came. We'll always come for you." She kissed Peter's cheek fiercely before pulling back. "But we have to move. Grab Wanda while I get to the weapons locker and security system."
Within minutes, they'd rearmed themselves and freed Wanda from her restraints. "Are you well?" Steve asked her gently as she flexed her fingers, red wisps of energy curling around them.
"I will be," she assured him.
Alarms began blaring through the prison. "Company's coming," Clint reported, peeking down the hallway.
"Time to go," Natasha said briskly, leading the way toward escape.
The reunited team fought their way through the onslaught of guards, finally making it to the surface and commandeering a cloaked jet for their getaway.
Once safely in the air, Steve flipped on autopilot and sat back with a tired sigh. Natasha immediately curled into his side, tension easing from her frame as he wrapped an arm around her.
Peter smiled to himself. As long as his parents were together, he knew everything would be okay. He rotated his shoulder experimentally - the bullet graze still stung - wincing as Natasha noticed the movement.
"Peter, you're hurt!" She crossed the jet in two quick strides, tilting his chin to examine the injury. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Just a scratch, Mom. I'll heal fast, remember?" But he leaned into her soothing touch nonetheless.
Steve came over to inspect the graze, shaking his head. "That was reckless, letting your guard down like that. You have to be more careful." The admonition was tempered with relief at having Peter safe.
"I know, I know! But it barely grazed me." Peter shrugged. "Guess I'm still getting used to this fugitive thing."
Natasha smoothed a hand over his hair. "We'll keep training. Can't have you getting sloppy out there." But her tone was gentle, all trace of sternness gone.
Peter ducked his head, secretly pleased by their attentive fussing. "Speaking of training, mind showing me that thigh chokehold move sometime? That was awesome!"
Steve cleared his throat, giving Peter a look. "Let's focus on defensive techniques for now." He steered the conversation back on track. "So Buck's gone completely off grid. But we got word of a potential lead."
"Where?" Peter asked eagerly.
"Siberia."
Peter's eyes widened. "Whoa. So what's the play?"
Steve traded a glance with Natasha before focusing on Peter intently. "Son, you don't have to come with us for this next part. You've already been through so much because of us."
But Peter was already shaking his head. "No way! We're family. Where you go, I go." He crossed his arms stubbornly. "You're not ditching me now."
Pride shone on Steve's face, mingled with reluctance. "Are you sure? It could be dangerous."
Peter stood tall. "I'm sure. We're in this together, remember?"
Steve pulled him into another hug. "Together," he agreed softly. Over Peter's shoulder, he met Natasha's gaze.
No matter what awaited them in Siberia, they would face it as a family.
The Quinjet door lowered, revealing a snowy landscape dotted with abandoned buildings. Steve, Natasha and Peter disembarked cautiously, glancing around for any signs of life.
"This is it," Steve confirmed grimly. "The coordinates match the intel we were given about the secret Hydra base."
Natasha scanned the area, alert for potential threats. "No heat signatures detected so far. We're alone out here."
Peter couldn't shake the uneasy tingling at the base of his skull. "I don't know about that. My spidey sense is going haywire for some reason."
Steve frowned in concern. "Could just be leftover nerves from the prison break. But stay sharp." He gripped Peter's shoulder briefly before taking point towards the most intact building.
They entered silently, footsteps echoing in the dust-filled corridor. Steve and Natasha had weapons drawn, prepared for confrontation. But the base appeared deserted.
Rounding a corner, Steve halted abruptly. At the far end of the hall stood a familiar figure, turning towards them slowly.
"Bucky," Steve breathed in relief, striding quickly forward.
Bucky Barnes watched their approach warily, as if poised to bolt. But he remained where he was as Steve stopped before him.
"You're really here," Steve said wonderingly, clasping Bucky's flesh arm. "When I heard rumors you'd gone to ground in Siberia..."
Bucky managed a hint of a wry smile. "Had to lay low after that mess at the airport. Figured this ghost town was as good a place as any." His guarded eyes took in Natasha and Peter lingering behind Steve. "But seems I'm not as alone as I thought."
Natasha inclined her head. "Our intel was right for once." Her hand rested casually near her thigh holster. "We just want to talk, Barnes."
Bucky focused on Peter, brow furrowing slightly. "Kid looks familiar. Have we met?"
Peter shook his head quickly. "Uh, no. Don't think so."
Steve cleared his throat. "This is my son, Peter." He kept his tone neutral.
Bucky's eyes widened fractionally in surprise, but he simply nodded. "Got it." His gaze flicked between Steve and Natasha briefly before resettling on Steve. "So. You went through a lotta trouble to find me. Must be something big."
Steve opened his mouth to reply when Peter's spider sense flared urgently. "Someone's coming," he warned.
The heavy footfalls of an Iron Man suit echoed down the corridor seconds later. Tony rounded the corner, faceplate flipping up as he spotted them. He raised his repulsors warily.
"Hello, friends. Fancy meeting you here."
Steve subtly shifted into a defensive stance, angling himself in front of Bucky. "Tony. How did you find this place?"
Tony's mouth twisted bitterly. "You mean how did I figure out your plan to run off to Siberia with Manchurian Candidate here? Let's just say you left some crumbs." His gaze turned calculating. "But now that we've got the band back together, what do you say we have a little chat? Clear the air, maybe."
Bucky tensed, eyeing Tony distrustfully. But Steve searched Tony's face, then nodded slowly. "Alright. We talk. Just us, no one else." He waited for Tony's slight dip of the head in agreement before relaxing his posture.
Natasha touched Steve's arm lightly in warning, still unconvinced. But Peter's spider sense had quieted to a low thrum. Whatever Tony's agenda was, he currently didn't pose an imminent threat.
Steve turned to Natasha and Peter. "Stay here with Buck. We'll be back shortly." Then he followed Tony down the corridor, the two disappearing around a corner.
Stilted, uneasy silence descended on those left behind. Natasha moved closer to Peter in silent protective instinct. For his part, Bucky seemed content to ignore them, lost in his own thoughts.
After several tense minutes, soft footsteps approached. Peter looked up to see a man in dark clothing regarding them curiously. Dark hair, sharp features, unassuming at a glance. But something about him instantly put Peter on edge.
Natasha's stance shifted subtly as she took stock of the newcomer. "Who the hell are you?"
The man lifted his chin. "I could ask you the same question. Interesting company you're keeping." His gaze lingered on Bucky's metal arm.
Bucky scowled. "Got something to say?"
The man smiled tightly. "My business is not with you." He focused on Natasha. "I am Helmut Zemo. I've come here seeking justice."
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Justice for what?"
"For the loss of my family." Pain flashed across Zemo's face before his expression smoothed over. He turned his attention to Peter. "Tell me, young one - why do you ally yourself with Captain America? Do you believe in his cause?"
Peter stood straighter. "I believe in doing what's right. Same as him."
Zemo snorted softly. "Ah, such naivete. Has the good Captain told you everything about his noble quest? All the ugly truths he hides?" His eyes bored into Peter's. "Or are there things he keeps even from those closest to him?"
Peter hesitated, Zemo's words hitting a nerve. Were there secrets his dad was still keeping from him? Before he could respond, Natasha cut in sharply.
"Whatever game you're playing, we're not interested. Steve will be back soon, so I suggest you move along." Her tone left no room for debate.
Zemo inclined his head. "As you wish. We will speak again soon." With an enigmatic smile, he turned and melted back into the shadows.
Unease coiled in Peter's gut. He exchanged a tense look with his mother. "I've got a bad feeling about this, Mom."
Loud voices echoed suddenly, growing closer. Seconds later, Steve and Tony reappeared, locked in a furious argument.
"...should have told me, Rogers!" Tony was snarling. "Did you even stop to consider how I might feel learning my parents had been murdered by your brainwashed BFF?"
Steve shot back angrily, "I was trying to protect you from the pain of that knowledge! Bucky had no control over his actions."
"Don't give me that crap! You don't get to decide what truths I can and can't handle."
Natasha quickly moved between them. "Enough! We have more pressing concerns right now." At Steve's questioning look, she explained tersely, "There was an intruder, Zemo. Something's not right about him."
Before Steve could respond, the man himself stepped casually from the shadows. "Right you are, Miss Romanoff. Pleasant to see you again so soon."
Tony's repulsors hummed to life as he aimed them at Zemo. "Funny, I don't remember you being on the guest list. Wanna explain what you're doing crashing this party?"
Zemo appeared unfazed. "I arranged this party, Mr. Stark. Though not everyone has arrived yet." He glanced meaningfully down the hall.
Peter's spider sense blared a split second before the Black Panther came stalking towards them. T'Challa stopped at Tony's side, fixing the group with an impassive stare.
Zemo nodded approvingly. "Excellent. We can begin."
"Begin what?" Steve bit out, shield at the ready. Beside him, Bucky looked primed for a fight.
Zemo tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Shall we start by asking Captain Rogers why he never told you the truth about your parents' death, Mr. Stark?"
Tony went dead still, face draining of color. Steve closed his eyes briefly. "Tony, listen to me–"
"Did you know?" Tony interrupted harshly. When Steve didn't immediately respond, Tony roared, "Answer me, goddammit! Did you know it was him?" He jabbed an accusatory finger at Bucky.
Steve finally met Tony's gaze head-on. "Yes," he admitted heavily. "But it wasn't Bucky's fault, he was programmed–"
With an enraged cry, Tony fired a repulsor blast at Bucky. Steve dove to deflect it with his shield.
"Get back!" he shouted at Peter and Natasha. Then he charged at Tony, barely dodging another repulsor volley.
Bucky had engaged the Black Panther, their metal arms crashing together violently. Natasha pulled out her batons, circling the fight watchfully.
Peter shot a web to yank Tony away from Steve. "Mr. Stark, stop!" he pleaded. "This is what Zemo wants, don't play into his hands!"
Tony wrenched free of the webbing with a snarl. "Stay out of this, kid! Cap wants to defend a murderer, he can die like one too."
He rocketed back towards Steve and Bucky. Peter jumped in front of him desperately. "Wait, please! Let's talk about this!"
"Time for talking is over," Tony said coldly. He raised a repulsor towards Peter. Behind him, Steve shouted a warning.
Peter braced himself, knowing he was dead if the blast hit him full force. But Tony abruptly cut power to the repulsor at the last second, the weakened beam only knocking Peter aside instead of killing him.
"Don't try that twice, kid," Tony ground out before turning his fury back on Steve.
Peter lay gasping on the ground. Natasha started towards him, but he waved her off. "I'm okay! Help Dad."
With a terse nod, Natasha spun back to the fight. She managed to land a few good hits on Tony before he batted her away.
"Tony, stop this madness!" T'Challa implored as he continued exchanging blows with Bucky. "Vengeance will not ease your pain."
But Tony was beyond reason, Hellbent on making Steve and Bucky suffer. He succeeded in tearing Bucky's metal arm clean off, kicking his body out of the way.
Then he focused on Steve, catching him in the leg with a repulsor blast. As Steve fell to one knee with a pained grunt, Tony stood over him and aimed both hands directly at his head. The whine of the repulsors powering to lethal capacity filled the tense air.
"Tony, please..." Steve gasped out, defenseless.
"Goodbye, old friend," Tony said coldly. Behind him, Natasha screamed a warning, running full tilt toward them even knowing she'd never make it in time.
But Peter was already moving, instincts propelling him forward. With a burst of desperate speed, he flung himself between Tony and Steve. A split second later, the repulsor beams slammed into him.
The force of the impact blasted Peter backwards into Steve's chest. They both went down hard, Steve barely catching Peter before he hit the ground.
Natasha skidded to a stop beside them, quickly checking Peter over with frantic hands. "Peter! Oh god..." Her voice broke as she took in his dazed, pain-filled eyes and the smoldering hole in his suit revealing blistered skin.
Steve clutched Peter tightly, anguish twisting his features. "Son, why would you..." He seemed at a loss for words, emotion clogging his throat.
Peter managed a shaky version of his cocky grin. "Had...had to save you...Dad."
Then his eyes slipped closed as he lost the battle to remain conscious.
Around them, the room had gone deathly still. Tony stared down at the limp form in Steve's arms, face bloodless. The fight had drained from his frame, horror and regret taking its place.
"Oh kid," he whispered. "What did I do?"
T'Challa came to stand solemnly beside Tony. "What we all must seek redemption for. Letting vengeance blind us to what truly matters." He placed a hand on Tony's shoulder. "There are grave mistakes here, but the boy's action proves no life is beyond saving. Will you heed his wisdom, or let destruction continue?"
Tony closed his eyes, warring emotions playing across his face. After a long moment, he met T'Challa's steady gaze and nodded once. Together they stepped back, the fight ended as quickly as it had begun.
Steve gently scooped Peter into his arms, features set with quiet fury as he stood facing Tony. "I'll take my son to get medical help. Then you and I are going to reach an understanding. The Avengers don't turn on their own - ever again."
Tony held his gaze unflinchingly. "You have my word. And my apology. Whatever you need...he'll get the best care possible." His voice was subdued but sincere.
Steve searched Tony's face for a long moment before giving a short nod. Then he turned and carried Peter away without a backward glance, Natasha hovering protectively at his side.
Tony watched them go, shame and regret sitting like a stone in his gut. He turned to T'Challa with a weary sigh. "Well. That could've gone better."
The king regarded him solemnly. "What matters most is how it ends. Will you let darkness win out? Or seek the light?"
Tony squared his shoulders, casting one last look at the retreating forms of Steve and Natasha, their son cradled gently between them even in the midst of calamity. Because that's what families did - they had each other's backs.
Tony had a lot to make up for. But as he met T'Challa's knowing gaze, he knew one thing for certain.
The Avengers would rise again.