The Winter Soldier & Falcon
There really has to be something said about irony. I mean, he’s heard the saying that karma is a bitch, but timing is definitely the final boss. How does it make sense that when Peter is trying to lay low, he catches wind of a kidnapping, and when he’s trying to get to work, the streets are as silent as a phone in a movie theater? He’s trying to save lives here, universe! The least you could do is throw a bone.
He’s been taking double patrols ever since that Saturday he met the black widow. Tony was supposed to be back yesterday, but during his flight they got a call about a lead and ended up in Miami rather than New York. Had Peter not found out what he had four nights’ previous he might have been a little annoyed by this change in plan and thus delay in reunion, but considering the gamble here was Tony’s life, he’d handled it with grace.
The same could not be said for Tony. It was already a red flag when Tony declined a face call, claiming he ‘couldn’t find the right lighting’ (Peter distinctly remembers his father once saying he had no bad angles) but even his voice when they talked sounded harrowed. Beaten down, and lacking the confidence his father radiated. Natasha told him what she found and Tony had the nerve to tell Peter to lay low. To “stick to the tower & Happy’s side” like it was his mechanical heart they were aiming for. Peter was supposed to be the unknowing bystander in this so while he agreed to all of his dad’s points verbally, he didn’t actually follow them. Stick to the tower? What kind of garbage advice was that----- How was he supposed to get any work done from a place Tony had effectively baby-proofed?
If Tony asked, Peter had instructed FRIDAY to say Peter was staying late after school. Technically speaking he was flying by a high school now, and it was pretty late, so that wasn’t really lying. The only difference was that it wasn’t his school, and he wasn’t Peter Parker right now. Tony didn’t ask whether he was Spider-Man, so it was really his fault for not specifying.
He was just about to make his fifth round-a-bout in the same neighborhood when Karen’s inbox pinged.
“I found a match to a license plate found outside both the high school and the warehouse. Here are the directions.”
A turn on his left was highlighted, and from there it was a short five minute swing to a tattered old building. Not exactly abandoned, as there were cars lining the streets and a few lights on inside, but definitely next on the list of demolition. There were only a few windows not boarded up, and the cover of trees to its right side only heightened the ‘haunted house’ vibes. The only indication that this was a high-end crime headquarters was the high quality cameras on such a low quality building, but considering most cameras weren’t programmed to follow a genetically modified teenage spider, he was able to slip past them fairly easily.
Shrouded by the cover of night time Peter began to scale the building. FRIDAY was running scans to get some insight on what he would face on the inside, but considering this dinosaur must’ve been built before civilization, it was hard to get a definite read.
He was able to enter through (okay break, but like…lightly break) the window, and as his feet landed he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was quiet. And not to sound like a naïve victim in a horror movie… but too quiet. “Karen, anything?” He whispered, staying behind the closed door like a shield.
“There’s heat signatures, but no movement.” What? Were they all just standing there like some kind of demented surprise party? Were all the people on the other end of this door the twins from the shining, begging Peter to come play with them? Peter chanced his luck and opened the door, web at the ready. When the hallway unfolded before him it was to a scene like no other he’d experienced. There were guards---- at least ten of them. But all of them were unconscious in various positions. Awkwardly Peter toed one of them, just to make sure he wasn’t walking into a trap, and as no response was given Peter continued on his way skeptically.
The next hallway was virtually the same, only less dense. More guards with their eyes closed, and guns fallen from limp hands and Peter was genuinely concerned as to whether he’d stumbled into some sort of murder house. If Superheroes were real, couldn’t ghosts be? And if ghosts were real then-----
“AH!” He screamed unintentionally as he came face to barrel with the open end of a gun. His stomach jumped into his throat, and his shock electrocuted his nerves. The gun was directed right at his nose, with no wiggle room for Peter to move a muscle without the risk of death.
“Woah, woah, don’t shoot!” He had to actually remind himself that he was a superhero, and that he needed to open his eyes if he was going to play braveheart. He opened one instead and had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
He’s seen the Truman show---- he knows when it’s clear someone is intentionally fucking with his life. Before this hell month started he’d traded sparse words with the Avengers while in the mask. He’d been to max three meetings, and each time he’d bonded with The Wasp more than any other person in that room----- his dad included. And now, he was staring down his uncle’s gun, with no easy exit to disappear out of. Not to mention, this was his one tangible lead so Bucky freaking Barnes or not Peter was going to finish the mission.
Bucky didn’t crack a smile at the expression, but behind him another figure emerged: Sam Wilson. He gave a lopsided grin, and opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by the former.
“I swear to god Sam, if you say ‘language’...”
Sam rolled his eyes, “What will you do, Barnes? Tell on me? Make me watch one of Cap’s educational videos? Besides, it was the kid who said it---not me.”
“I’m not a kid!”
“Anyone under thirty is a kid, kid. Do you seriously want to tell me you’re in your thirties?”
“------yes?” Ever since his surprise visit to Dr. Bruce’s ER he’d had Karen permanently switch on the voice modifier. It sounded somewhat natural, but definitely twitched at the slightest change in pitch. And Peter’s vocal cords be damned--- they betrayed him in that moment.
“Your voice just went up twenty octaves, so now you’re a lying kid.”
Peter was on the cusp of retaliating (and on the brink of using the infamous ‘I know you are’) when Bucky responded instead.
“As thrilling as Spider-Man’s mid-life crisis is, we’re kind of in the middle of something.” It was then Peter remembered the hordes of bodyguards sprawled through the corridors. Oh yeah, he was here for a reason. And that reason was currently being obstructed by last year’s winners of the game ‘risk’.
Clearly they held the same time-consuming annoyance.
“Good point---- what are you doing here, Spider-Man?”
Maybe it was the fact Bucky’s gun had lowered and Peter had never had anything but a fun relationship with these two but his guard wasn’t really at high alert. He just kind of stood his ground, and looked around theatrically as if his presence was obvious.
“I came for the refreshments. What are you doing here?”
Sam and Bucky shared an undecipherable look. Bucky’s eyebrow quipped and he nodded towards Peter, and with their one shared brain cell (no he wasn’t still salty about losing), Sam answered instead.
“We got a tip The Vulture would be here. He’s kind of going after our pack.”
Peter ignored the menace in his stomach begging to exploit Sam’s use of the word ‘pack’. Were they a ragtag group of supernatural misfits brought together by a full moon and a love of friendship? Maturely, he ignored it to answer, “I know, I found the files with Black Widow” instead.
Peter also knew that Sam & Bucky knew that. Nat had been particularly hell bent on identifying her spider in crime for the night, until Peter stealthily diverted her attention with a work out session that hurt worse than literally being stabbed.
“Yeah, we heard.” Sam replied. Peter was expecting an ‘I know’ from their end, they were in the gym the same time as he was after all. What he wasn’t expecting is the follow-up. “What I don’t get is why you’re still here. You wouldn’t even be on the Vulture’s board if you stopped going after him. He’s got it out for the Avengers, you could still walk away man.”
The notion actually baffled Peter for a minute. Being questioned on why he would be a part of something purely to help out the Avengers----his family----- was a new development. Peter Parker had an answer to that question, but what did Spider-Man? That it was the right thing to do? Was that answer too Captain America for him?
“Seems like you need all the help you can get.” At that Bucky actually managed a weak smile. But he spun on his heel in the same moment, pointed his gun, and fired just as a figure on the far end of the hallway came around the corner. Peter had super senses and even he hadn’t heard that coming. Bucky turned to look at Sam then, and with a smug grin said “twelve.” He didn’t wait for a response as he strut down the corridor, Sam followed wordlessly and Peter was inclined to do the same.
They were met with few other guards on the way---- all of which were taken down before they could realize what was happening (14 Bucky, 9 Sam). Someone had obviously pressed the ‘panic’ button as in their pursuit the fluorescents went out, and they were now guided by only the red glow of emergency lights. At the far end of a dead end corridor was a single gray steel door. Peter had watched enough true crime shows to know that anything cast in an ominous glow, and sitting at the end of a long hallway had to be the kingpin. Peter stepped forward, but the motion was cut short by a strong, metallic hand.
“Wait.” Bucky scanned the barren space before them like he could see lasers zig-zagging across it. Either Peter was the world’s worst spy, or Bucky had finally lost it.
“It’s too easy.”
Peter felt a little offended. He had just scaled a five-some story building and while he personally hadn’t discarded any hired guns, Bucky & Sam clearly had. It wasn’t impossible by any means, but was Peter really so wrong to say it had a light sprinkle of effort? Couldn’t they just go in, arrest the Vulture, and get a celebratory pizza afterwards? Was that too much to ask?
“I hate to say it, but he’s right.” Falcon uncharacteristically agreed.
“He knows we’re here.” Sam explained further. Peter understood the implication of the sentence. It’s a trap. And they have the option of walking into it, or losing the Vulture again. Maybe it’s the false confidence that comes from walking through a battlefield of fallen enemies but Peter wants to end this. If they catch the Vulture, that leads them to Hammer. And with both the Vulture & Hammer behind bars, Tony can come home and stop flying to every new grease fire that explodes.
“Well, I’m not going home.” Peter countered stubbornly.
“Me neither. I’m one ‘saving Tony’s life’ away from being Best Man.”
Bucky scoffed, “I’d like to see you try.”
Great, so even Steve had his wedding party lined up! Obviously, now was not the time to dwell but he was starting to wonder if he should really be Bruce’s plus one after all.
They stand in contemplative silence for another minute before Bucky’s face changes. “Wait…” Bucky’s eyes search the room as if the answer lie hidden there. “He knows we’re here.”
Sam’s eye roll was almost legendary. “Dude, I know you’re old but your hearing can not be going out already, I just------“
“No Sam.” Bucky took a step forward. “He knows we’re here.” Weirdly in sync, they both turned towards Peter.
“What?” Twenty minutes ago he would have relished in the thought of going in alone, but now it wasn’t just his life in question.
“He knows about us, Spider-kid, but he doesn’t know about you. What Bucky is saying is we go in, and you find a way around---- attack from behind.”
Oh good, so his uncles-in-law are crazy.
“What? Going into a trap----knowing it’s a trap cannot be your plan!”
“You got a better idea?”
Peter stuttered through a few syllables before eventually falling silent. What would Peter say at their eulogy? ‘Nice guys, but poor planners’? Was that too crass?
Bucky & Sam didn’t wait for approval, but assumed position at either side of the door. Sam gave him a look back as if to say ‘what are you still doing standing around’, and Peter only had a second to web up to the ceiling before Bucky & Sam had kicked the door down----guns raised.
Peter crawled to the threshold of the door, and looked around for what he could possibly utilize in this plan, trying to ignore the ruckus inside.
“Hands up.” That was Sam’s voice. Peter moved to crane his neck over the side, and felt his hand cover something cool. A vent! He could go all John McClane and crawl his way through. A voice cut through the thick silence that peter could unfortunately recognize. They were right----the Vulture was here. The hairs on Peter’s skin stood straight and Peter once again, cursed this flawed plan.
“You know, your little fraternity has really been messing with my operation.”
He didn’t sound scared, or even vaguely unsettled. Bucky & Sam had been right this was a trap. Peter opened the vent as stealthily as possible----thankfully shrouded by the boom of Sam’s voice in the distance.
“Yeah, you haven’t really been helping us much either.”
It’s a tight fit but he manages. After a couple of seconds he reaches a partition that overlooks the center of the room. Bucky & Sam still have their guns raised but stand just behind the middle line. The Vulture, on the other end is leaning on a table littered with space junk as if this were a normal Wednesday night for him.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, Falcon. But I do believe it is you currently trespassing.”
“House-warming.” The banter didn’t hold the same connotation it was meant to. Both sides knew the other was hiding something, and neither wanted to show their hand first. This resulted in something of a stand-off, until Bucky & Sam tested the waters and moved forward. Their steps set off something, and although their bodies remained unnaturally stoic, the guns fell from their palms, and the screams resonated. There was a small metallic disk now visible that was smoldering just inches from where their frozen feet stood. It gave off a light opaque glow that Peter had only ever seen used in the Vulture’s weapons belt.
“Do you like it? Futuristic, I know, but it only has one good shot in it. It’s kind of like an animal trap. Only instead of the net reigning you in, it’s your own body.” The Vulture stepped forward so that the top of his head was now visible from Peter’s angle. The rest of his technology was strapped to his back between the shoulder blades of his metallic wings. He was a few steps away from the Avengers but he stopped short, kicking the metallic disk out of the way in favor of getting in Bucky’s face. Bucky made a sound in his throat that didn’t quite materialize on his frozen lips.
“Its effects are powerful, but short lasting. Relax, Winter Soldier.”
Peter didn’t stay to play audience---- choosing instead to continue his crawl until he was faced with a single exit point through the last ventilation shaft. Whatever device he’d just used left Bucky & Sam at the mercy of any plans the Vulture had in store. And if his history proved anything, it wouldn’t be in their favor.
“I know you’ve done your homework. Your spider friends made sure to make a mess last time. You know it’s not the Winter Solider & Falcon I want.”
Peter opened the vent softly, popping his head out first to assess the situation. The Vulture’s back was to him now, and he was in clear view of his uncles. Sam gave him one wide-eyed look meant to convey some hidden message and Bucky did not stir. Peter could tell he knew---- he was an infamous assassin after all, but his eyes stayed trained on the Vulture.
“-----How far do you think Tony Stark and Steve Rogers would go for you two? Hm? A call to the police? A ransom? A rescue mission, perhaps?”
Peter was climbing down and onto the table now, watching the Vulture’s moves with careful trepidation. His hands moved and gathered two hanging restraints from his belt. The first was a typical pair with the chain link restraints, and were promptly applied to Sam’s wrists. The second was more high-tech, and rather than two conjoined rings, it was just one silver loop, just about the size of a neck. It blinked red in his hand and Peter was vaguely reminded of a conversation the Avengers had about new ‘power suppressing’ technology from the raft.
“go….to….hell….” Sam was able to speak through clenched teeth, which had to be a good sign they were slowly coming to. But the Vulture paid him no mind, raising his hands towards Bucky’s throat just when Sam groan-screamed “Now!”
Peter was already halfway through shooting his web when Sam’s command echoed, and unfortunately it gave the Vulture just enough time to turn. His web had been intended for the restraint, however when it moved that meant the web shot directly into Bucky Barnes’ face. Although Sam & Bucky were slightly tremoring----- a sign their motor functions were returning------ there was no way his hands were functional enough to get the web off.
“Sorry!” Peter called to Bucky, mid-swing. He focused on the Vulture then whose face contorted in rage at the sight of Spider-Man.
“I thought I’d squashed you!” He yelled, throwing a punch Peter narrowly avoided. Peter used his webs to grab at the Vulture’s hands but he really felt out of practice here. Not to mention he couldn’t really swing around carelessly considering his uncles couldn’t exactly jump out of the way.
“Maybe don’t be such a stereotypical Bond villain by hiding out in abandoned buildings?” He wasn’t really sure what the goal was here. Using Peter as their ‘secret’ weapon had many plot holes---- for example that Peter was the least trained out of everyone in the room. He couldn’t overpower the Vulture in hand-to-hand, and Bucky & Sam had at least a few more minutes until they could feel their toes. What he needed was back-up, but clearly that wish would go un-granted.
They danced through a couple of well-placed hits, dodges & webs until Peter realized he had effectively been backed into a corner. The Vulture laughed maniacally, and a hand too quick to dodge gripped his throat. The force threw him back into the wall where a 5’8 sized indentation surely now resided.
“I don’t think Stark cares if I kill you.” His grip tightened. He could feel everything in that moment----- the tightness in his chest as his body screamed for air, the blood rushing to his head, and the black spots that danced in his vision. How cruel would it be for Peter to just never return home? Would they know then, once Spider-Man disappeared and Peter Parker vanished that they were one in the same? Would they care? Seconds passed and Peter could swear he heard Ben calling his name.
A shot fired from behind, and suddenly Peter was dropped to his knees and heaving in breaths greedily. Through the tears fogging up his mask he could see that the Vulture had been hit badly, and was now gripping an arm that seeped blood.
Bucky released his precarious grip on the gun in question, forcing his free hand to mechanically tear at the web on his face. His motions were still sluggish and restrained but at least he had some function.
Peter was still seeing three mirror images of everything in his view after such oxygen deprivation, so while he raised his web shooters towards the man, he doubted any of them landed. The triple Vulture stumbled up and away from Bucky & Sam momentarily giving Peter some peace of mind. They were definitely less statuesque with every passing second. He’s just got to stall.
“You won’t get to Tony. We’re the Avengers----- we won’t let you get close.”
The Vulture’s right army hung in a bloody mess, but his left reached and pulled out another small silver contraption. He smirked, threw it towards Peter, and said “Then I guess I’ll go through you.”
It started beeping.
There was a growing sound of propellers, and Peter’s focus had just returned when the Vulture’s feet were lifting up from the ground.
“I’ll tell Stark where to find the bodies.” The Vulture turned sideways then and blew out one of the side windows, flying through the now empty window-sill. Peter’s web caught onto something, but whatever it was just broke off and fell lamely out the window.
In sync, all three of them stared down at the now rapid beeps pulsating through the disk.
“Buck” Sam said, and in the same second Bucky’s metallic hand wrapped around the handcuffs and tore the chain link. The beeps were quickly losing the time in between and Peter remembered just then that they were not on the ground floor. When this thing explodes, there’s nowhere to go but down, and despite his rapid healing there’s no way he survives five flights of building on him.
There was no time to think so Peter mindlessly yelled “grab him!” To whichever one would listen and made a break for the broken window. He threw one web out towards the pair to drag them behind him and one towards the trees adjacent to the building. Just as Bucky & Sam crossed the threshold, tethered to his web, the beeping ceased and for a second Peter was a little miffed they’d just flown out of a building because of a dud.
Then the boom shook the integrity of his spine and suddenly his grip on both webs faltered. Their trajectory pushed them far enough into the thicket of trees where Peter Parker found himself descending branch by branch to the forest floor. Upon impact he was starting to wonder if he’d prefer to be buried deep in concrete right now, because not only was his throat still sore from the whole almost dying ordeal, but his spine was most definitely bruised. He could only roll around a bit and groan, almost harmoniously, with the others.
“Well I can definitely feel again.” Sam wheezed.
They spent another few minutes allowing their bodies to absorb the pain before even attempting to get up. The explosion definitely alerted a few unsuspecting bystanders and in the distance sirens blared as they raced closer to their location. Peter was no enemy of the police, but he also was not particularly keen to stay back and answer their questions. They always wanted to know who was behind the mask, and while his little double meaning quips could slide past people who did not know Peter Parker in the slightest, he doubted they would fly over the heads of Bucky & Sam. They invited him back to the tower to use some of ‘Stark’s nerd tech’ (rude) to track where the Vulture might have gone to but Peter declined politely, knowing his curfew was rapidly approaching. He was almost in the clear when Sam called for him.
“Hey, Spider-kid!”
If he asked him who he was, or whether he wanted to come to the wedding or something Peter was going to mcfreaking lose it.
“You did good back there… And this is the lamest thing I’ve ever done… aside from being friends with Bucky.” Bucky gave him a metallic middle finger. “But my nephew is a huge fan. Do you mind?” He held up a phone, and Peter’s stomach shifted through a wide array of emotions. He wanted to simultaneously laugh in Sam’s face & run away screaming, because taking a picture of peter, FOR peter was a new level of irony.
“a-anything for a fan.” He joked, moved into the frame and watched as the shutter clapped of a smiling Falcon, spider-Man and Winter Soldier. He heard Sam taunt Bucky with "I'm so going to be best man after this" and his anxiety was reaching cataclysmic levels. He'd heard of toeing the line, but right now he was doing somersaults over it. Try as he might to sound cavalier, his voice wavered when he said good-bye.
That night he swung home, and eavesdropped fearfully as Natasha, Sam & Bucky asked FRIDAY if she could face-match a person with a mask on.