Chapter 1

Tough as Nails

Peter shimmied down through the vent, his side aching with the bullet wound he had gotten earlier; the door on the roof wouldn't open, so he opted for the vents, not realising how much it would hurt. He moved along until he found the vent above the kitchen and sighed with relief; it was already open. He moved himself over the open vent, and dropped down. His feet met the kitchen tiles, and his neck tingled; he moved to the side, but something caught his neck, barely. A hand pushed against him, shoving him against the fridge he had landed near; the hand was cold, and hard. Peter tried to choke out a breath and a 'what the hell?' but his throat was pressed to tightly.

Peter tries to focus, tries to imagine where the person's head is, and in a quick movement he balls his hand into a fist and throws it; it collides with the person's jaw, and they stagger back, letting of Peter. Peter lets out a gasping breath, and scrambles past the person. Bucky rubs his jaw, and hears Steve.

"Bucky, you up?" Steve calls out as he walks into the kitchen; something short, and thin darts past him, and disappears somehow, down a hallway with no unlocked doors. Steve walked into the kitchen to hear Bucky cursing.

"I'm gonna kill him." Bucky said, seeing Steve. The room had been dark, it was late, but the lights had brightened up just enough now for them to see each other.

"Kill who?" Steve asked, leaning his arms on the dining table as he watched Bucky rub his jaw.

"Barton."

"How? He isn't here."

Bucky was silent, and stared at Steve; Steve could see that Bucky was shocked, and very confused.

"Where the hell is he?"

"On a mission with Nat. They left like, two days ago."

"So who the hell just punched me?"

Bucky asked, and the two left the kitchen, walking back to their rooms; neither of them were aware of the teenager hiding in the vent in the hallway. Peter was laying on his back, breathing slowly; he was able to shift himself enough so he could drop down from the vent, and land in the hallway. It took all his remaining energy to pull the bag of spare clothes down with him; he kept a few of them in the tower, where he knew no one usually went. He quickly changed out of his suit, hoping no one would leave any of the rooms; at one in the morning, it was unlikely. He staggered from the hall after throwing his bag back into the vent and replacing the cover, making it to the lounge before collapsing against the back of the couch. He grabbed the back of the couch and tried to pull himself up, but his hand gave out and he slumped to the floor. He could feel his shirt becoming wet with blood, and he knew it would soak through to the floor, but god he was tired. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his eyes open; trying to keep himself awake. It didn't work, and he soon passed out, slumped against the back of the couch. It was Steve who found him later in the morning.

Steve left his room, closing the door carefully before heading to the kitchen for his protein drink before his morning run; he tripped. Steve stumbled over something on the ground, and muttered to himself about the others leaving cushions on the ground. He turned back and was shocked to see a teenager on the ground, with blood pooled beneath him.

"Friday, call Tony." He called out, and rushed over to the teenager. Steve quckly, but gently, adjusted him to find where the blood was coming from; he lifted the boy's shirt to find what was very obviously, a bullet wound.

"Captain! Why are you calling me at this time of the morning? It's like, seven." Tony's voice filled the room.

"Shut up Tony-"

"Oof, what woke you up, Bucky tryna climb in your bed?"

"Tony! Why is there a bleeding…teenager? On your lounge room floor?"

There was silence, and the voice that came was not what Steve expected; it was worried.

"What do you mean he's bleeding? Steve!"

"Bullet wound in his side, he's just on the ground."

"A bullet wound?! Oh my god and Bruce isn't at the tower…Steve you wouldn't happen to know how to remove a bullet would you?" Steve could hear things moving over the speakers, and he guessed that Tony was shuffling things around on a desk, or something, in his office in the California Stark Industries office.

"Oh sure; did it all the time in the war, used a rusty bit of metal usually. No, I am not a doctor!"

"Dammit, we could use the medical cot but not if the bullet is in him."

"There's no exit wound." Steve said, picking the limp boy up in both arms. He was careful, but took quick steps, to get Peter to the medbay.

"Steve, what's going on? Is he awake?"

"Hope not, he'll be in a lot of pain, I've moved him to medbay. I didn't really know what else to do." Steve had set Peter down on one of the surgical beds, and was now looking around for the bottle of painkillers he knew Tony kept down here; surely it would be helpful for when the boy woke up. He was distracted from his search by the sound of something metal hitting the tiled floor, and rolling towards him. He looked down and saw a single, bloody bullet next to his foot.

"What?!" he asked, and turned to see Peter standing next to the bed, one hand on the bed itself, and one clutching his side. The one on his side was covered in blood, and he was shaking. "Did you just…"

Steve darted forward when the boy went limp, and fell to the ground. Steve managed to catch him and carefully lifted him, and moved him to the medical cot. The cot gave a hiss as machinery moved and closed the glass lid over the boy's body.

"Steve? Why'd you shout? Stop ignoring me!"

'S-sorry Tony, I was putting him in the cot."

"What?! We just discussed this!"

"He pulled it out." Steve said, as he sat on the ground nearby and leant his back against the wall.

"He fucking what?!" Tony screeched, and Steve heard glass break.

Hi al! I am still working on 'Play Spider Games' but I had this chapter idea at work and wanted to write it! I'm not sure if there'll be anything more to this, we'll see how views go eh?