Whumptober Prompt Stories

“Pops come on, please? Just for a few hours, please, I need to patrol tonight, I swear I won’t go do my own investigation or anything.” He softened his face and batted his dark eyelashes, peering up through them pleadingly. “Pleeeeeease Pops?” Steve sighed and rubbed his hands over his face tiredly.

“Peter, I don’t want anything happening to you… there’s a bigger risk for you and me right now because we don’t have any information on your Dad except that he’s somewhere underground and he’s cold.” He thought back to the staticky phone call the two had received hours ago before Tony’s suit was forcibly shut down and all of F.R.I.D.A.Y’s trackers went offline.

“Hey, hey, uh, Steve, honey – I – I think there might be a… yeah, a – a slight proble – Ah, shit!” His shaky, hurried voice was muffled by an explosion that didn’t sound too far off from where he was whispering into the phone. “So – sorry, about the language babe, just – I may need some backup, these guys, uh, they have something that’s gonna shut the suit off and force it into power down…” There was frantic yelling in the background and Tony’s rapid breathing filled the break between his words. When he spoke again it was a faint whisper, as if he were trying to stay quiet, “maybe, yeah maybe just – just leave Petey at home for this one Cap, it’s a bit – ah ow – um, a bit… more than he’s ready for I think, these guys are kinda –” There was a metallic clanging and it sounded as if he were shifting away from the voices and angry shouting in the background of the call. “These guys are kinda rude, pretty brutal if you ask me, so just – fuck! Ow, ow, ah, shit!” A shot rang out and it must have dented the armour pretty badly because it sounded painful with all the cussing Tony was doing. “Sorry, sorry babe, I love you, maybe hurry up a bit getting here? The uh, the suit’s thruster and repulsors are down and I’m gonna hang up and check to see if I – if I can send you my location or coordinates, but, um, I’m pretty sure the base is underground somewhere, s – still New York so no need to w – worry ‘bout me. Hopefully I – I’ll see ya soon Capsicle.” The call shut off just after the shouting morphed into angry screams and vague threats, followed by more gunshots.

Steve had gotten the call and happily put it on speaker while he was in the car on his way home with Peter in the passenger seat, clutching his school bag with a sandwich hanging halfway out of his mouth. He had calmed him down in the driveway to the compound before hurrying them both inside and alerting Nat, Clint, Bucky and Steve of the situation, promising himself to tell everyone else later if it progressed. He had told Peter they would surely be getting a message with Tony’s location shortly, but it never came, so himself and everyone else had frantically gotten to work on the computers to try and track him down. That brought him to now, where he was nursing a stress headache and looking at Peter from his desk chair, trying to convince the boy that going on patrol right now wasn’t a good idea considering the unknown threat. The pleading puppy eyes were wearing him down and the kid knew it.

“Please Pops, I swear I’ll be really careful and keep my tracker watch on just in case. I’ll even come home if you call and I promise to call you if anything is out of the ordinary. Please?” He caved, like the big softie Tony always accused him of being. To be perfectly fair, it was hard not to crumble, Peter was so much like his Dad with the large, Hazel eyes and dark lashes, soft, innocent smile complimenting the begging look.

“Fine, only if you keep all your communications on at all times and absolutely do not go looking under the city for Dad, okay?” Peter grinned and pressed a quick hug to his side, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Bye! I won’t be out for too long, call if you need me!” He was already halfway out the window and waving goodbye to everyone in the office.

“Bye паук, keep safe” Natasha called back, swiping a sip of Clint’s coffee while he was pre-occupied waving to Peter.

“Hope he’s not in as reckless of a mood as Tones was today,” Rhodey sighed to himself and shot Steve a worried look before turning back to his screen and resuming the search for the genius.

----

Peter whooped loudly as he swung from New York’s skyscrapers, working his way down, closer to the streets.

“Okay Karen, open the files I pulled from Dad’s lab on the mission he was working on today.” He flipped and shot another web out, letting himself free fall for a moment before pulling it taught and tugging his body down a side street.

“It seems as though the general plan for his mission was to locate and disarm an underground group operating primarily in New York whose main aim was distributing illegal weaponry and technology.”

“Thanks Karen, mind sending me the most recent location of his suit?”

“There are two possible locations, one which was sent out from Mister Stark’s own suit and another online report stating he was seen on the subway.” He turned a corner and gripped a lamp to slow down enough to drop into an empty alley.

“Um, I’ll check out the subway first because that’s underground, but it could be a cold lead, show me the station it was?” His display lit up with the subway station only a few blocks away. “Awesome! Let’s head there and find my Dad,” he stuck to the brick wall of the building beside him and scurried up it, using the roof as a good enough vantage point before swinging off it and making his way to the subway.

“I find it best to advise you that your Pops requested you specifically not search underground or conduct your own investigation for your Dad.” He sighed heavily and shot another web.

“So, you heard all of that conversation then?”

“My protocol is to always record and listen when your mask is on, therefore I did hear you and Captain Rodgers speaking.”

“What Pops doesn’t know won’t hurt him Karen.” He was only a block away from the station and he really didn’t want someone to step in and cut his search short for no good reason.

“I am afraid your parents still have requested my ‘Baby-Monitor Protocol’ stay in place, I am going to have to contact your Dad’s suit if you continue on with your mission.”

“Ugh, Karen, stop being such a buzzkill. Besides, I’m not looking for my Dad, I’m just making sure nobody needs Spider-Man’s help down at the subway. Completely unrelated, don’t worry.” There was silence from the A.I and he knew that to mean she was not in the process of calling his parents, thank god. Luckily Karen was slightly more gullible than F.R.I.D.A.Y and Jarvis had been.

After all that effort the subway had turned out to be a false lead, it was an Iron Man cosplayer headed to some sort of convention by train, not his Dad going underground. “Hey, uh, Karen? Could I take a quick look at that location my Dad’s suit last transmitted, not so I can trace it – just so I can, um, know…” There was a pause before the display showed a small dot and he immediately began to swing that way.

“Peter why are you headed in the direction of the suit’s last location?”

“Oh, I’m not, I just heard Mister Delmar was having a deal or something on sandwiches… so I’m just checking that out to see if it’s uh – if that’s any good.” He was such a terrible liar, he definitely didn’t take after his Dad in how smooth he was.

“Mister Delmar’s shop is in Queens, the location you are heading towards is in Manhattan.” If Karen were a real person she definitely would have sounded unimpressed then.

“No, whaaat? Pshhh, me disobeying Pops? Never.” He waved a hand distractedly and used his left arm to pull himself up and shoot another web.

“If you go underground I will unfortunately have to contact your parents and alert them of your location.”

“Okay Karen, I understand. Mind opening my personal files and running program T.T.K?”

“Of course, Peter.” There was a pause, the displays flickered for a brief moment then the A.I spoke again. “Program successfully up and running, may I ask what TTK is? I have detected a slight change to one of my systems.” He grinned under his mask before replying.

“T.T.K is my own protocol I designed, and it means ‘Tattle-Tale Karen,’ so that’s probably why you’re detecting a system change. Hey, could you tell me what your protocols are for contacting my parents now?”

“Very impressive Peter, my new protocol is to contact your parents if your vitals drop dangerously, you go too high or you are unresponsive for an extended period. However, there is also a system that requires your permission before I contact either of your parents unless you are unconscious.”

“That’s perfect Karen, I’ll change you back when my Dad does a routine system check, so don’t worry about that. I’m coming up on the location now, get ready for a fight.”

“Understood Peter, no problem’s here. I do not detect any heat signatures that indicate the possibility of an altercation, let me know when I should contact your parents.” He swung forward and stuck to the side of a building, crawling along it and checking the street was clear before jumping down into the shadows.

“You probably won’t need to call my parents but thanks anyways.” There was zero evidence of his Dad ever being here but given his suit had sent a signal from this street Peter assumed he had. To the side, in a small alcove off the building, there was a manhole cover that lead underground. He stuck a web to the top of it and peeled it back, staring down into the darkness and letting the eyes of his suit adjust to the light before slipping down the ladder quickly, pulling the cover back above him. “I’m underground, keep looking for any heat signatures or just my Dad’s suit,” he got an affirmative from Karen and proceeded to crawl along the wall of the sewers. He stuck to the sides and avoided the water, scrunching his enhanced nose in disgust.

He continued on like that until a small walkway made itself available and he dropped down to it and continued walking through the dark. Eventually he grew bored and began to quietly talk Karen’s ear off and recount his day at school, giving excruciating detail of the homework he had finished during study period. His A.I was great though, she never complained, well that’s because she wasn’t programmed to but regardless. His Pops always said Jarvis and F.R.I.D.A.Y were built to match his Dad’s sarcastic, quippy nature, but Karen was always meant to be soft and supportive for him, which he thought to a certain degree was true. Tony always looked away and shrugged knowingly when they asked him about it, so Peter figured it was definitely probable. “How long’s it been, Karen?”

“Just over two hours since your patrol began and one hour forty-seven minutes since you went underground.” He sighed and picked up the pace, turning in a quick three-sixty turn to double check he hadn’t missed any secret doors or something else interesting. After almost another hour he told Karen to text his Pops and let him know he was doing good, having fun, saving a few lives and finding some cats in trees. “Picking anything interesting up?”

“Nothing abnormal, although I do sense there is a ventilation system above your head, but below the surface of the city.” He perked up slightly at that.

“Oh cool, that must mean we’re under some buildings or something, right? How do I crawl in there, because it stinks out here?”

“There may be a grate along the wall further ahead which you could enter through, but the space may be too small.”

“I’m basically a Spider, just like Aunty Nat says, so I can squeeze. Whereabouts is this grate?” He ran a hand over the wall and felt for anything rough or unusual in the concrete wall.

“About fifty odd paces ahead.” He broke into a light jog until his hand met slated metal and he could easily tug it off the wall. He hummed to himself as he crawled into the vents, only having to force himself in slightly, he imagined he was the only person in his family that could fit in here. Humming quietly, he began to crawl forward on his elbows and stomach, just like Clint had taught him. Although he kept relative track of the turns he was taking, it mostly relied on Karen recording his direction and path. He kept up a steady stream of chatter about a range of things to keep himself entertained for the next hour or so, but around the same time his nose unwrinkled, and he couldn’t smell the sewer water anymore, Karen’s display shut off and he was left alone.

“Karen?” He whispered into the dark, halting his crawling for a moment, “Hellooooo, am I really that boring?” No reply, nothing from his suit, so he checked his watch only to find the screen and the Stark Industries logo were shut off and not producing their normal blue glow. “Weird,” he muttered to himself, deciding to continue moving until he got to the end of the ventilation system.

----

“Hey, Peter’s watch just shut off, I got the notification now.” Steve looked up at Bucky who was resting on the couch at the other side of the room, holding up a Stark Pad.

“Yeah, my watch buzzed when it turned off, hopefully it was just him dropping it again or just forgetting to charge it like normal.” Rhodey quirked an eyebrow at him in question, “he has the other version of it while Tony fixes his normal one, which he dropped last patrol. The one he’s using now is older and needs to be charged every now and then but he’s forgetful so…”

“Same,” Clint said, holding up his own tracker watch, a dull screen and a stained wrist band. “What, my kid threw paint at me and it wouldn’t come off.” Natasha rolled her eyes and kicked his chair, spinning him in a circle.

“You know, if you washed the watch the paint would probably come off, it was water-based acrylic, it’s the easiest pain to clean.” The archer gripped the side of his desk and stopped spinning, chipping the paint away with his fingernail before licking his thumb and beginning to rub it away.

“Oh, duh.” Natasha rolled her eyes again and flashed Steve a look telling him not to worry about Peter.

“I’m not worried, if he loses all communication Tony put a protocol on the Spidey-suit so it notifies us that his signal’s being blocked.” Bucky nodded and swiped away the notification, settling back down on the couch and going back to lazily researching Iron Man sightings in the past few days. Rhodey turned back to his work and silently hoped Peter hadn’t put his own protocol blocker on the suit again, he had faith the kid probably wouldn’t do that.

----

Peter’s elbows were starting to hurt slightly, he wasn’t sure how long he had been crawling, but time seemed to stretch without Karen to talk to. It got colder and colder the further he advanced through the vents and after what must have been another quarter of an hour, his hearing picked up voices. They were distant, not to mentioned extremely muffled through the metal walls of the vents, but eventually he managed to find the source of the noises. There was a metallic whirring which almost sounded like someone was drilling or welding, but that was further along then where the voices were echoing.

“This’ll be interesting,” he murmured to himself as he saw a grate in the bottom of the vent shaft he was crawling through, which was letting light into the small space. Figuring he was in an underground buildings ventilation system and had a shut-down suit for no good reason, the teen stayed as silent as he possibly could when he drew the courage to peek over the edge and stare through the slits of the grate. A sharp inhale of breath was drawn when he saw what was in the room, it was large, white, clean and seemed to resemble a lab or workshop. On a bench that took up an entire wall of the room, lay his Dad’s suit, completely powered down with the faceplate beside it, thankfully showing that his Dad wasn’t in the suit. The source of the metallic whirring sound he had heard was from two men in lab coats who were both using handheld circular saws in a poor attempt to disassemble the armour. “Shit…” he breathed out, ducking back from the grate and taking a moment to compose himself.

“How long do we have till the rest of them come looking?”

“Who knows, its likely he’s not that well liked, considering how much of a self-satisfied asshole he’s been to us. The whole Avenger’s deal is a publicity stunt, they probably all hate each other.” Peter perked up when he heard the source of the voices much closer, drifting up from a grate a little bit further ahead in the shaft. Using extreme caution just like he learnt from his Uncle Clint, he crawled around and over the grate looking into the lab, he was careful not to put weight over it, to avoid falling through the ceiling and blowing his cover. Another few minutes and he was peering into the second room, which again, was another lab.

“Has he agreed to the terms yet?” What were the two men talking about, and why had they mentioned the Avengers.

“Nothing yet, but I did send a few of our guys in there to, uh, persuade him a little. I’ll send them back in again after another hour or two, I’m just letting him stew for a bit, alone.” They were both dressed in plain, black uniforms that had various weapons and gadgets attached to their hips, and Peter thought he could make out a taser on one of them. Shuddering with his whole body, he leant down further and tried to listen in for more information, maybe these were the guys that had his Dad.

“What if he managed to send something out or raise alarm before we turned on the communications blocker? They could already be looking for him.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, it’s not like he had much of a chance to call someone during the attack, his armour shut down almost immediately.” Okay these guys were definitely talking about his Dad, he needed to keep looking so he could find the room he was being kept in. Crawling forward again for another few minutes he found a third grate which looked over a hallway, which he followed along to what must have been the stairwell. He doubled back, shifting in the vents as quietly as possible and trying to turn into as many of the rooms in the hallway as possible, looking for one which held his Dad. Over the persistent sound of the sawing, he could listen for heartbeats within the rooms, and he skipped over ones that had no sound. It took another half hour, but he finally found a grate that looked into a smaller room with only one heartbeat, located at the very back of the corridor and nearest the end of the vents. The grate looked out from the corner of the room and Peter could make out almost all of the room.

“Oh god…” he whispered, frightened. On the same wall that the grate was, chained by one ankle and both wrists, was his Dad, who sported numerous injuries and torn clothes. “No, no, no shit,” he spoke softly but with intensity in his tone. Tony was slumped, his back resting against the wall and seemingly holding all his weight, through a large tear in his shirt there were at least two, very dark bruises that signified a broken rib or two. In fact, majority of the visible skin on his torso and arms looked heavily beaten, littered with bruises and in some areas even smeared with drying blood. There was a trickle of red that leaked down from his hairline and framed a black eye which hadn’t yet begun to swell. “Dad,” Peter spoke the name on a concerned exhale and reached his hand out to touch the grate lightly, wishing he could crawl backwards to that second room and mirror the same injuries on the two assholes that had hurt his Dad.

Before he made any move to reveal himself, Peter checked diligently for any sort of camera or recording device in the dingy room, but the concrete walls didn’t hold anything except one small splattering of blood and the chains that encircled his Dad’s limbs. He unscrewed the grate slowly, carefully let it swing open, wincing to himself when it creaked and irritated his sensitive hearing. He reached one hand out and made sure it was stuck just below the grate before he inched his body out and held himself against the wall for a moment, observing and listening for any footsteps in the hall. When there was nothing, he unattached his hand and dropped to the floor, landing on his toes and sinking to the balls of his feet to conceal any unnecessary noise. Looking to his Dad, he noted his eyes were shut and his chest was moving in and out with very shallow breaths, it was without a doubt because of the broken ribs. Peter moved over to the drooping form and checked him over with his eyes quickly before reaching out and touching his shoulder lightly, urging him to wake up, “Dad.”

Tony flailed instantly as soon as he felt the hand on his shoulder, he lifted his hands up in a defensive position and pulled his back off the wall, whipping his head around before they settled on the familiar face beside him. He rubbed his good eye frantically and took in the panicked, young face of his son.

“Peter?” The teen smiled weakly and hovered his arms over Tony, letting them ghost over his sides and assess how much damage there really was.

“Dad, what the hell happened?” His eyes flickered up to meet the mechanic’s, peering up at him and creasing his forehead in thorough anxiety.

“Hey Bambi, I’m sorry. Mission’s taking a bit longer than expected, huh?” He huffed a laugh and waved his hand, giving Peter permission to fall into an embrace, assuring him it wouldn’t upset his wounds too much.

“Yeah, heaps longer Dad. We’re so worried about you and that phone call scared the shit out of me, I was in the car when Pops answered. Y – you sounded so outnumbered and there were like, explosions or something, you were supposed to be home for dinner tonight and I just thought you… I don’t know what I thought but P – Pops and everyone are already looking for you and –”

“Hey, hey, I’m alright – see?” He looked down at himself and frowned slightly, as if only noticing how ragged and unkempt he looked. “Okay, I got a few bumps and scrapes but it’s perfectly fine, okay kiddo? Just take a breath and stop rambling for a sec.” He rubbed circles into Peter’s shoulder blades and kissed the top of his head once he had tugged the mask off. “There you go, I’m good, everything’s fine… keep focusing on breathing bud, good job.” He forced himself to take in his own deep breaths to guide Peter but couldn’t contain the involuntary flinch when the squeezing pain flickered in his chest. Of course, being the observant Spider, he was, Peter pulled back from the hug and gently laid a flat hand over his side. It was a feather-light touch, but Tony’s reaction was to jolt, and grab hold of his wrist quickly, “uh, be careful there Petey, might be a little broken, so just, c’mere.” Repositioning Peter rather than himself, the genius shuffled him to his side and guided his head down to rest against his shoulder.

“Sorry, just checking it’s broken… Dad you gotta take deeper breaths, I know it hurts but you have to prevent Pneumonia.” He sighed, then winced accordingly, and sucked in a deeper breath, clenching his teeth and fists when the pressure increased again.

“I know, I’ve had a few of these before, just – try to… uh, let’s talk about something else.” He concentrated on breathing through the pain while Peter reached up and lightly probed at his forehead, wiping away some of the sticky blood and checking for cuts.

“I need to call Pops, get everyone here, I’m gonna get in so much trouble for showing up, ugh.” He pulled his mask back on and fiddled with the display for a while.

“Good luck with that, these guys are really good with technology, they have some sort of block on and you can’t send or receive any signals. It shut down my suit and judging by the look of your tracker watch, it’s powered everything you have down too.” He scrunched his face sympathetically even though it was him that was in pain and him that needed to be rescued. “Why are you in trouble, what’d you this time?” Peter bit his lip and took his mask off frustratedly.

“I asked to go on patrol while everyone was looking for you and basically wavered away my soul trying to convince Pops to let me, he said keep my tracker on, do not go underground and absolutely no looking for you on my own.” Tony smirked knowingly and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Lemme guess, first thing you did was…” He waved his hand in question, dropping it against his lap and taking another pained breath.

“Yeah, I followed the last signal your suit gave out and crawled into the sewers… um…” He licked his lips and looked away, clearly hiding something else.

“Aaand?” Peter sighed and fiddled with his mask distractedly.

“I may have…” he trailed off and mumbled something very quietly under his breath.

“What was that?” He tapped his ear and when Peter didn’t answer he lifted his finger and delicately rested it on his chin, tilting his face back around and connecting their gazes. “You mumbled, what did you do aside from what you said before?”

“I sorta… overrode Karen’s protocol that you made and activated my own one… just so she wouldn’t tattle on me to Pops while I was close to finding you.” He looked down guiltily and twisted his Dad’s ripped sleeve in his fingers, “m’ sorry, I was just really worried, and Pops was being paranoid and –”

“Alright Bambi, it’s okay, I’m not mad,” he cut the rambling boy off and grazed a knuckle over his cheek, wiping away non-existent grime. “We’re gonna talk about how you managed to mess with my programming, but for now you should head out of here.” Peter snapped his head up and scrambled to grip onto his Dad’s hand.

“No! Dad what – no way, I’m not leaving you here now. I don’t know anything about why you’re here and they clearly aren’t above hurting you for information or whatever, I can’t just swing home and pretend like I didn’t find anything!” Tony hurriedly held up a finger to shush his cries of disagreement, nodding slowly and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, calm down kiddo. They want me to make a bomb or something along those lines, you don’t have to go far, just back out of the area enough, so your suit comes online and then send off your location.” He cupped Peter’s cheek and stared into his frantic, hazel eyes, “Listen, I’ll be fine, I can handle a lot more than this, I can’t handle you getting hurt, okay?”

“Dad… I don’t wanna – what if I just disable the block and call Pops from here? I’ll have my suit online when I disable the thing, so I can fight just fine and –”

“No, Pete, no way are you fighting these guys without backup – or at all.” He spoke firmly but Peter was staring up at him incredulously. He reached out and laid both of his hands on the side of Tony’s face, moving his head to face him better and biting his lip again.

“Oh god, your eyes are dilated all weird – you’re concussed, Dad!”

“Shh, Pete keep your voice down. It’s just a minor bump I’m fine, you gotta go –”

“Just a bump?” Peter whispered as loudly as possible, his voice rasped, and it was like he was stage whispering and his cheeks flushed in what Tony thought might be anger. “Dad that is not just a bump, Jesus you’re concussed, covered in bruises and have at least two broken ribs. You. Are. Not. Fine. Stop treating me like a child, I can handle this okay, I can’t just leave you here like a sitting duck.” He gripped onto his arm and shook it gently, trying to get his point across. “Dad come on.”

“Bambi, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before okay. Now you get why I act like this when you get hurt, it’s scary, I get that, but you can’t stay here much longer, they could bust in any moment now. These restraints don’t have enough give and I won’t be able to protect you if they try to take you, alright? This is serious stuff now, please listen to me?” Peter chewed at his bottom lip again nervously, looking between the door, the grate and then back to his Dad.

“They said they’d send more guys in an hour or two, if I go quick I should be able to get far away enough to send a signal then come back in time to –”

“No, Pete, listen to me. You get out, send a signal and then you wait, okay, wait!” He looked at Peter intently, searching for a reaction. “Wait for Pops to get here with backup an then you can get close again. Once your suit is disabled you practically only have web shooters, all it would take is one well-aimed hit or a taser and you’re down. What do you think they’re gonna do once they have you and I’m still chained to the stupid wall?” He paused, continuing to stare, “they’ll use you as incentive for me, they’ll hurt you unless I do what they want, and as much as I don’t want to make a bomb, I hate the idea of you being hurt so much more.” Peter gaped, he stared back with just as much intensity in his gaze before locking his jaw.

“I’m not waiting, I don’t care if you ground me, I can protect myself just fine with web shooters, and I refuse to let them hurt you just because you’re worried about me.” He frowned and waited for his Dad to either relent or get angrier, but before either of them had the chance, Peter stood up and tried to yank at his Dad’s chains. “If none of these break after two minutes then I’m going to head out the way I came in and call for backup, but sorry to say I will come back for you. Pops is already going to ground me for lying, you can add on as much as you want but it’ll be worth it to protect you.”

“God, y’know you’re so much like a mini Steve and I sometimes, it’s annoying.” Peter quirked an eyebrow in question but continued to tug at the chains, careful not to disturb his Dad’s injuries. “My stubbornness and his righteousness, horrible combination when it comes to arguments.” A small smile played at the edges of Tony’s lips, but he still pushed Peter gently away, pointing at the grate and waving him off. “We’re gonna have to talk about working on the inflexibility our arguments have young man, hurry up and call Pops so I can watch him chew you out when he gets here.” Peter smiled and stuck himself to the wall again, lifting himself up slowly. Once he pulled his body and folded it into the vents again he stuck his head out once more, tilting to look at his Dad who smiled wide. “Look at those gorgeous curls, love you Bambi and for fuck’s sake please be safe.” He blew an exaggerated kiss like he did at all the paparazzi but waved a genuine goodbye with fondness clouding his eyes.

“Love you too Dad, keep breathing and just… try not to mouth off too much. If you have any more bruises when I get back I’m gonna hurt someone. Also, language,” Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head in mock disbelief.

“Me mouthing off, like I would ever.” He flashed a very knowing, sarcastic smile and watched as Peter pulled the grate shut and began to crawl back the way he had came with far more intent than before. He propelled himself down the vent shaft, only slowing to take his time when crawling over grates, careful again not to break the ceiling. He concentrated on going quickly and memorising his turns. It must have been under an hour until his suit display flickered back on and he let out a whoosh of relief, but it felt like days.

“Hello Peter.”

“Oh, thank God Karen, call Pops right now, it’s really urgent.”

“Dialling Popsical now,” he managed a smile at his contact name but immediately began worrying at his lower lip again when he remembered to brace himself for the parental concern and anger he was probably about to get.

“Peter?” The voice was about as frantic as he felt.

“Pops.” He was milliseconds away from launching into the mini explanation-speech he had poorly planned while crawling through the vents, but he was cut off.

“Oh, thank god baby, you went blank I couldn’t see you and you weren’t answering, Karen wasn’t even online. You scared everyone Pete, I thought – god, I thought whoever took Dad got you –”

“Pops? Pops!” His eye twitched when his voice echoed in the vent shaft, but he was confident enough that he was too far for anyone in the building to hear him. “Okay you’re gonna be mad but please just listen and yell at me later, this is really super important. Put me on speaker.”

“Already are.”

“Hey Underoos, scared the shit outta us all.”

“What’s wrong паук, are you safe?”

“C’mon Punk don’t scare your Pops like that or he’ll fly another plane into the sea – ow that hurt.” The sound of a metallic punch which he recognised as his Pops punching his Uncle Bucky’s metal arm.

“Y’know when I taught you how to prank I didn’t mean to actually give us ass heart attacks.” The sound of his family talking into the receiver drowned out most of his worry but the feeling of ‘go fast, faster, Dad’s hurt, save him now!’ Was growing in his gut and he shoved the words out without care for the consequences and forced them over the sounds of his family’s concern.

“Okay I lied to you and I overrode Karen and went underground to find Dad. I crawled through some vents just like Uncle Clint taught me, but it was taking forever then it got cold and then I heard voices and I could see Dad’s suit and there were these guys trying to cut into it, but I kept crawling. More guys were talking, and they mentioned you and I got scared so I kept going and I had to double-back, but I finally found Dad and he’s chained to a wall and he’s hurt, and it’s so messed up. There’s a weird block on all communications and when I get too close to the building my whole suit just turns off. I couldn’t break the chains and Dad said I need to go and he’s definitely gonna ground me because he said to wait for you but I argued and so now I’m sending you my location and going back, please hurry up and don’t freak out if your technology blocks, bring some sort of first aid for Dad and know I’m super sorry but also not because I found Dad and it’ll be okay once you’re here but please, please just hurry up and get here because I’m kind of still freaking out! Pops don’t even respond just go now, get the Quinjet or something fast.”

He took several deep breaths and hoped that most of what he said was intelligible enough to get through to everyone. Karen had sent his location and although the line didn’t immediately fill with questions and angry yelling he did hear rustling and the sound of things moving.

“Everyone suit up, Peter I swear –”

“Yeah, I know, just tell me off when you get here. I’m going back in now so there isn’t any point in telling me not to, ground me later, I’m sorry for lying and stuff though okay? I gotta help Dad.” There was a very heavy sigh and then a clipped response before he had moved too far into the shaft and his suit was shutting off again.

“Okay, be carefu –”

“Damn it, why’d this stupid block have to ruin everything,” he muttered angrily before scurrying back through the vents, somehow even quicker than the last two times. He whispered the directions he could remember under his breath and was for once glad when he felt the air growing cooler around him. “M’ coming Dad,” he promised quietly before shutting up completely in favour of listening to the sawing that was growing louder as he approached. He slipped slightly and almost smashed his face in when he turned the corner to get to the room his Dad was in and met the sound of grunting and chains jingling.

“You wanna keep refusing to do this and I’m gonna keep breaking bones,” there was a resounding slap and Peter’s eyes widened as he forgot all need to stay quiet and practically threw himself down the shaft to get to the final grate.

“If you break my fingers I can’t build shit,” his Dad, biting back pain very obviously but keeping his normal wall of sarcasm up. There was a muffled noise and then another groan followed by a string of curses that would have Pops reeling.

“I swear to god you aren’t worth half as much trouble as you are. You’re still the same egotistical rich boy that you were before the suit, don’t think for a second I believe any of the stupid Avenger family press bullshit.” He scrabbled toward the vent with a desperation he didn’t know he possessed. “I read the magazines, they all said you and the Cap were getting really close?” The tone was nasty and implying, there was silence that followed, Peter knew how much of a touchy subject it was when the media brought up Steve or himself. The few times any report came out about a secret kid or a romance between Iron Man and Captain America his Dad would absolutely reem whatever company had released it, he hated people looking into their life, he also couldn’t deal with the idea of anyone getting hurt because of him. “You fucking the Captain real nice, to secure your place on the team? You gave him a little bitch child to make sure you don’t have to fly into another hole above New York? Yeah? That’s what I thought.”

Peter reached the grate in time to see his Dad kicking out at the man who was gripping his hair and slamming right into his knee. While he feverishly ripped the grate from the wall two guards were surging forward and forcing his Dad to his feet and slamming him up against the concrete wall. There was yelling, and he thinks his Dad was swearing again but he couldn’t focus on anything except the buss of his Spidey-Senses and the feeling of his elbow connecting to the men’s faces.

“Kid go!” He shook his head and threw someone across the room, letting them slump into unconsciousness just like his Dad had first been. “Hey! I’m fine, you gotta go!” More men were beginning to pour into the small room and he was shoving as many people back as he could, even going so far as to propel himself off the wall and slam his shoulder into them.

“Taser him agent, what the hell are you doing!” Peter’s head screamed, and he ducked in time for something to sail over his head and embed itself into the back of the man he had just kicked in the groin.

“Pe – Spidey they have guns, go!” He spun around and shot a web over the head of the taser, pulling it roughly from the agents grip and letting it smash into the wall bedside him. He spun around and counted eight guys, all lined across where the door was hanging open. He shot a second web and pulled it shut before jumping to the ceiling, attaching his hands and using them as a way to swing at head height and kick another man into the wood. He flipped and landed on his feet, knees bent and arms out to steady himself, he slid sideways and positioned his body in front of His Dad’s, who had slipped back down the wall into a sitting position, holding part of his ripped shit to his lip.

“I’m not exactly an expert on these kinds of things Sir, but I’d assume pissing off Iron Man isn’t your best bet in this situation.” He ducked a blow from his left and swiped the man’s feet out from under him before he could advance any closer to Tony. “Moreover, if you think you’re smart enough to block communications…” he caught a well-aimed kick and used it to swing another guard around and tumbling into a fourth. “Maybe you should try to build your own bomb next time, instead of taking an Avenger hostage, cus, no offence, that plan was bound to turn pear-shaped from the start.” He shot two webs at two men and collided them into each other. Disarming and webbing up the last few men was just a case of blocking a couple punches, grabbing the barrel of the one gun they had and slamming it back into their faces before shoving them back against the wall and sticking the firmly to it. He approached the man his Dad had clipped in the knee and turned over his body, webbing him to the floor for good measure and swiping the key from his belt. He checked everyone was either tied up or unconscious before he unlocked the shackles and helped his Dad to his feet. They stumbled into the hallway before either of them spoke.

“Shit, Dad, your lip,” before Tony could even shrug the split lip off he had an armful of Peter, who thankfully was also using the hug to keep them both upright.

“Bambi,” he whispered softly, half wishing Peter’s mask was off, so he could tangle his fingers in the brunette curls he was so fond of. “You did good,” he assured, stroking a hand up and down his kid’s back, letting his fingers glide smoothly over the fabric of his suit and check for any wounds he may have missed before. “You okay baby? Didn’t get hurt at all?”

“No, those guys suck at hand-to-hand.” He smiled against the ripped fabric of his Dad’s shirt, keeping an arm wrapped around his waist to steady him.

“Yeah, I should’ve just disengaged my suit and taken them down street style,” he laughed lightly before groaning and slapping a hand out to grip the wall and keep himself from pitching forward. Peter immediately steadied him, laying a hand on his hip and one on his shoulder, squeezing his fingers and keeping him upright.

“You need to sit, there’s an empty room just two doors down and Pops will be here really soon.” Tony was too tired to argue, and he let Peter guide him down the hall till he kicked open a door and rested him down on a lab bench pushed against the wall. “Did you get any more hits I didn’t see?”

“Nope.” The exhausted mechanic rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, taking another deep breath and wincing slightly.

“You may be better at lying then me, but I have super hearing so… where’d he kick you?” He grumbled and shifted his weight, moaning when his ribs flared up.

“It – its fine kiddo, you fought really well in there, where’d you learn to disable a taser like that?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Peter warned, pulling off his mask and crossing his arms across his chest and trying to look grumpy.

“Aw, c’mere Bambi, lemme play with your hair,” he cooed annoyingly and made grabby hands, knowing how to press Peter’s buttons expertly.

“Daaaad, let me see your ribs, it’s serious, they could puncture a lung if its bad enough.” He rolled his eyes but gingerly pulled part of his shirt apart to reveal a large, shadowy bruise that spread across an area that indicated at least two of his ribs were bruised, probably more were fractured. “God, that looks just like when I… yeah um, let’s see if they have an icepack or something in here.” He ignored the way his Dad flashed him a ‘what are you talking about’ look and turned away to rifle through the draws at the other end of the bench.

“Okay Mister, one, you get one free pass on crap like that and two, lemme play with your curls so I can relax, come on, I just took a beating and it’s the least I could ask for.” Peter found an instant cold pack which he immediately squeezed so the inner packed would break and start the reaction.

“Fine, but you already know about the time I broke my ribs, so that doesn’t count as a pass.” He pressed the icepack to his Dad’s side and muttered apologies when he hissed in pain, from the cold or the ribs he wasn’t sure, it could have been both.

“Ouch, I know abou – ah shit that’s cold, I know about the four times you’ve broken a rib, so stop thinking you can sneak around behind my back and lean forward so I can reach you.” Peter sighed but didn’t bother to wipe the smirk off his unmasked face. He hummed happily when his Dad buried his free hand into his hair and combed them through gently, ruffling his curls and resting his elbow on his back. “Why didn’t you just stay in the vents until the guy left Pete? You must’ve seen the taser on his belt.”

“He was going to hurt you, he was hurting you, and he was saying… he was saying really messed up things and when he mentioned New York I was worried you would – you’d have a bad reaction or something, which you did cus you kicked him, even though you were chained to a wall and couldn’t defend yourself.” Tony twisted a tuft of hair near the nape of Peter’s neck between his fingers and smiled when the boy melted into the touch. They stayed still for a moment longer, Peter continuing to hold the icepack against his Dad while his hair was played with lazily. “Wait!” He jerked back, dropping the cooler pack and tugging away from Tony’s hand which was still tangled in his hair. “Shit,” he cursed and pulled his mask back on while his Dad frowned.

“What’s happening, is Steve here?” His curiosity only grew when Peter shook his head and crept towards the door to press the side of his head against it.

“Uhhhh, you’re going to hate this so, so much but you have to crawl into that cupboard and stay really quiet.” He looked up towards the grate in the ceiling and sighed when he realised his Dad definitely wouldn’t fit through there, especially with his ribs.

“Like hell I am, you can tell me what’s happening and then explain why you’re reloading your webs.”

“Come out with your hands up or we will kill the Spider-thing.” There was banging on the door and Peter was thankful he thought to lock it.

“More guys, they’re moving something heavy down the hall and I think it’s a weapon.” Tony pinched his face oddly and twisted his lips together.

“Does it have wheels?” He sighed when Peter nodded. “It’s the same thing they messed my suit up with, you cannot go out there Pete, you’re gonna get in a cupboard like me.” He pushed himself off the bench and threw the cold pack aside, nudging Peter toward a cupboard.

“O – okay.” He let Tony watch him clamber into the small space before making sure he was in his own safely. “I’m webbing your door shut, don’t freak out,” he warned, shooting a web and plastering it up and down the handles of his Dad’s cupboard. “I love you, I’m super sorry about this, feel free to, uh, double ground me because this is a dick move on my part.” He slipped out of his own cupboard and frowned sympathetically when Tony started to half-heartedly try and push his door open.

“What are you doing kiddo, come on don’t be stupid about this.” He shut the cupboard door and hid the ice pack away in the sink before webbing up the door with almost an entire canister of web fluid. “Peter, what the hell are you webbing, I swear if you do something stupid and get yourself hurt I’ll up the ‘Baby Monitor Protocol’ on your suit.”

“Nice threat Dad, you can punish my self-sacrifice later, but Pops will get here really soon I promise… Don’t worry I changed my web canister so it’s the one that dissolves in half an hour, again, super sorry ‘bout this!” He popped the grate open and climbed inside the vents again, closing it behind him. He ignored the guilt squeezing his throat and reminded himself that if went out there to sort the guards out then his Dad wouldn’t get any more hurt. “Please get here soon Pops,” he whispered as he twisted around in the vents and made his way to the grate in the hallway. There were about twenty men lining the walls and four more setting up a weird canon looking weapon that sat right outside the door to the lab his Dad was currently barricaded in. He kicked the grate open and dropped down, immediately straightening out and raising his hands in the air, innocently stepping between the weapon and the door. “Hey guys, might wanna play with guns your own size now because Mister Stark is long gone, he went through the vents, probably in Mexico or something by now.” He shrugged but tensed himself when one of the men walked forward.

“And why are you still here then?” He drew a taser and hovered it over Peter’s chest dangerously, he only stiffened and silently hoped that everyone had found the building by now and was right about to storm it.

“Uh, sight-seeing, wanted to know what all the fuss was about, collecting some bits and pieces from the Iron Man suit you guys still have, anything that’ll occupy my time I guess.” He waved his hands nonchalantly, trying to buy as much time as possibly while also focusing his hearing on the steady beat of his Dad’s heartbeat from within the cupboard. “That lab was pretty boring, you should give me the tour, maybe some free food? Do you have a gift shop?” Someone else moved towards him and shoved the muzzle of their gun against his chest, forcing him back against the door.

“You wanna play games, or you wanna show us where Stark went? It won’t be pretty if you keep fucking around like a child.” He jerked his head towards the opposite end of the hall.

“Stark? Like the Tony Stark? Yeah he’s a, uh, full-bodied apparition, he’ll probably come drifting through that wall there in say five, four…” He honed his hearing and felt his mouth go dry with raw anticipation as he realised his count down would be off by about three seconds. “Three…” He shifted his foot an inch to the right and bent his elbows and knees marginally, not enough to be noticed. “Two…” Most of the men were staring at the wall by now, only a few were keeping their gazes trained on him, which was probably the smartest thing to do as a bad guy. “One…” He snapped his fingers and crouched low. “Now!” He slammed his head into the guy closest, knocking the gun from the other man’s hand and jumping onto the ceiling while all the others fumbled for their guns. “Oh no I miscounted and misjudged how smart you all were.” He shot webs at as many guns he could but had to begin dodging some tasers after a second or two. “That’s rude, down here! Helloooo, I got some first class asshats over here guys!” He dodged another taser and managed to web the guys hand to the wall and kick two others in the sternum, using them as a makeshift stepping stool to get to the ground. Over the yelling of the sixteen men he was taking on at once he could hear the pounding of familiar footsteps and the voice of his Uncle Clint screaming something about painting over saw marks. He ducked one hit and took a boot to the back of his knee, stumbling forward and converting his momentum he was barely able to tackle two men and forward roll over them, sliding to a stop against the back wall of the hall, a few steps away from the door and also the weird canon. He heard a scraping noise and then saw the blurry flash of red hair and his Aunt Nat was storming down the hall towards him, his Pops dragging the Iron Man armour behind her and almost everyone else a few steps behind. “Hey guys,” he waved meekly before getting kicked in the stomach and careening backwards, throwing an arm out for balance only to firstly knock one guard down and be tackled by another two. “You could just ask for an autograph, no need to attack me for one!” He yelped when his shoulder slammed down into the side of the canon and his knees buckled under the weight of the men.

“Spidey-Boy!” He heard someone yell before he had a fist buried in his gut and someone pinning one of his arms down. He threw one guy off him and copped an elbow to the side of his face and kicking the man backward into the canon and pulling himself off the ground. He was joined by Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and the badly dented and half sawed into Iron Man armour, which sat against the wall and did nothing to help fight.

“Tash duck!” Something flew over their heads and he had a split second to step aside as an arrow whistled past him and into the mouth of the canon before a clinking noise echoed and Bucky was grabbing his arm and pulling him into a doorway and shielding him with his metal arm.

“Hey punk,” he smiled back at the smile before stepping back into the fight and relaxing when he saw the canon completely disabled and no longer threatening to blow into the room where his Dad was still barricaded.

“Oh crap!” He observed the hallway and saw only three men still actively fighting, it was as good as over and he slunk up the wall and back into the grate. “Be right back!” He called, and he thinks he saw his Uncle Clint smile proudly at him when he noted the vent shaft.

“I taught him that Nat, in your face,” he pulled off his mask and held it in his teeth, smiling as he heard the bragging going down beneath him. He grunted softly when he dropped into the lab, gingerly pressing a hand to the side of his face and wincing when it stung his cheek. He threw dissolver fluid onto the cupboard and the door, unlocking the handle and waiting patiently for all of two seconds before tugging the doors open.

“Dad!” He stumbled backwards when he was almost bowled over with the force of his Dad’s grip.

“Peter never do anything remotely that stupid again or I swear I’m not gonna make it to retirement.” After stumbling for a moment, he found his balance and wrapped his arms around his Dad, squeezing back lightly. “You’re a self-sacrificing idiot Bambi, don’t pull those stunts ever.” He spat his mask out of his mouth and dropped it on the bench before pushing his head into Tony’s neck and moving his arms up around the back of his neck.

“M’ sorry, but you were injured and there were like twenty guys who you definitely couldn’t fight off.”

“God you’re such an adorable little shit aren’t you,” his Dad whispered as he tangled his fingers into his hair again and began to let Peter take more of his weight. Peter vaguely heard from their right as the door was pushed open and then the sound of footsteps nearing.

“Tony! My god babe, your face!” He felt larger arms surrounding him and his Dad and he squirmed out of their grip and pulled a face when he heard the sound of his parents pressing their lips together. “Your shirt, honey those ribs are broken we need to get you to the jet.”

“Hey Pops, thanks for the backu –” He was cut off when Steve whirled around and pulled him into his chest, pressing his face down into his hair and breathing out strings of barely coherent parental worry.

“Pete you scared me so much with that call and then you decided it would be a good idea to take on thirty guys at once – what were you thinking baby?” He saw Bucky give him a wry thumbs up from behind Steve and he stuck his tongue out childishly in return.

“I uh, sorta webbed Dad up so he wouldn’t get any more hurt? Also, there were more like twenty guys so that’s not really such a bad thing –”

“Ha! You’re so grounded, I’m gonna beat all your high scores while you’re stuck doing chores.” He groaned loudly and rolled his eyes from within his Pops’ embrace but pulled back and pointed to his Dad.

“We need to get him home before he passes out or something scary.” He moved to his Dad’s side and held onto his arm and moved him towards the door. “I don’t know the way out; can we start to head soon please?” His Pops took charge and less than ten minutes later they were flying towards home.

----

“How is he?” Bucky leant against the doorframe leading into the Med Bay and smiled at the sight of his Nephew curled up in Steve’s arm while his other was wrapped around his partners hand comfortingly.

“He’s on a few pain meds but there weren’t any complications with the ribs, which is good.”

“Yeah it is, how are you doing Pete?” He held back a laugh when the kid in question mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over in his Pops’ arms, pressing his face against his chest so Bucky could clearly see how asleep he was. “He okay?” Steve smiled and repositioned his arm, so his son was caged in snug against his torso and wouldn’t slip off the chair.

“He’s good, just a couple bruises which’ll fade overnight, he did refuse to do anything for himself until he knew Tony was okay. I think they’re both just tired, he’ll be released tomorrow morning.” He nodded over to where Tony was dozing in the hospital bed, his face devoid of any pain.

“Need me to get you anything while you’re…” he wiggled his fingers and gestured to the teen that was sprawled across his lap and the man who still clutched his hand even in sleep. “While you’re currently occupied?” He smirked.

“I’m good, thanks Buck, just needed my family.” He looked down and stared adoringly at his kid before flicking his friend a playful salute goodbye. “Night Buck,” he smiled warmly.

“Night Stevie.” He closed the door quietly shut behind him and Steve leaned down to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead before doing the same to Tony’s lax knuckles.