So I've seen some stories about how Peter would deal with killing someone and it was an interesting premise to me so I wanted to add my own take on that situation. Kind of like with the other story I wrote, this will take place after Infinity War so there are some relationship changes that have not really been worked out yet.

I hope you enjoy!

Tony grumbled to himself as he stepped into the warehouse. It seemed like a sketchy place to begin with but this was where he had tracked the vibranium tech so this was where he was, "FRIDAY, where is everyone?"

"I'm not sure sir," The AI paused, "I'm not getting anything on the scans."

Tony watched the display, visually scanning the warehouse for a sliver of the activity he had assumed would be there.

"Scan again, this time focusing on the wavelength vibranium oscillates on." Tony paused, waiting for the calculations and he knew it worked when men began to materialize out of the shadows, moving slowly toward him, "Shit." He whispered, his repulsors coming to life. At the whine of the suit the men started to move faster and Tony released a pulse, sending a few of them back as the others ran into the fray. There were quite a few men but they were easy for Tony to fend off and he could not help but wonder where all of these guys had come from and why they were so willing to run into his gun fire.

Then two things happened quickly. An electrified stick came flying out of nowhere and struck him on the back, forcing him to his knees. Tony could feel the breeze that indicated a break in his suit, "What the hell was that?" He yelled at FRIDAY. Before she could respond, one of the men rushed in and slammed something onto the reactor in his chest piece before backing up out of his range of attack. The decisiveness of the action promised some kind of immediate payoff as the men around him slid away. The abrupt change forced Tony to look down at the thing on his chest. It was a small metallic looking circle but it did not seem to be doing anything, confusion colored his next question, "FRIDAY, what is that?"

"I'm not sure boss," came the sweet Irish accent.

Tony paused for a moment longer, "Well try to figure it out."

"On it."

A few more seconds passed without incident. Tony shrugged, assuming that the disk did not work the way it was supposed to, so he raised the repulsor to fire into the circle of men when a heavy pulse emitted from the thing on his chest.

"Sir!" FRIDAY came as close as she could to shouting, and the repulsor went dead on his arm as Bleeding Edge started to peel back from his hands, "Damage done to tertiary systems."

"Get them back online!" Tony started to claw at the disk on the flickering reactor with his bare hands realizing it was the source of the burst but the thing had formed a solid seal.

"I'm trying." FRIDAY ground out.

Then a second pulse emitted from the disk.

"Si-r, ba-si-c sy-t… dow…"

"FRIDAY?" Cold fear crept into Tony's chest, whatever this was he was not prepared for it. This was not just an EMP, this was something else. He felt the dispassionate mask slip into place, "FRIDAY, send out a distress signal as wide as you can. Get someone here."

"Ov…co-ur-s…ir."

As her voice cut out, a third pulse erupted from the piece and Tony felt the rest of his armor retreat back as the glow of the reactor winked out. The metallic piece remained annoyingly, steadfastly stuck.

"Shit." Tony groaned before stepping back into a defensive stance Natasha had taught him while his mind ran through as many escape patterns as he could come up with. Unfortunately, most of them required some form of mechanical...something.

He forced himself to squash the panic threatening to keep him from doing anything and refocused his attention on the brutes now forming a circle around him. They were close enough to link arms when a voice broke through Tony's quietly screaming thoughts.

"Ah the great Tony Stark." But it did not continue from there as Tony's name hung in the air like a promise.

The anticipation of more than his name started to piss him off so he did what he did best, he spoke with his haughtiest tone, "And you are?"

The voice was gratingly jovial, the self-assured air of a man who was actually close to getting what he wanted, "Just one of the many people you have pissed off in your undeservedly long life."

Tony groaned, why did they always have to be so cryptic? He tried again the annoyance exaggerated in his tone, "If you want to get anything done, you're going to have to be more specific."

The voice just laughed, "Let's just say I'm an investor in new technology."

Alright the games were starting to wear thin, more so because he was facing a large group of men who seemed to want nothing more than to kick his ass. Tony was just buying time at this point using his anger to drive his responses and praying that the distress call had gone out, "What does that even mean?"

The jovial voice became much more serious then, "It means, Tony, that I want something you have and you are going to give it to me, but not until my…associates…are able to exact their own payment."

Why were people always trying to take stuff from him? Seriously, what exactly had he done to deserve that? But Tony thought he should probably phrase it a slightly different way, "What if I don't want to give it to you?"

"Well its really hard to stop someone from doing something when you're dead." The disembodied voice paused for a moment before continuing, "I just realized how dramatic that sounded but…oh…never mind. Have at him."

The men in the circle around Tony closed in. He actually managed to hold his own for a few blows but ten against one is more than even Steve could take easily and being down a suit meant he was not going to make it out of here without a hell of a fight. Hoping against hope that someone was coming, Tony pushed a rescue from his mind and focused completely on the men, readying himself for some serious bruises.

Peter was bored.

He had already managed to stop a car theft and a robbery but the streets of Queens were quiet tonight, either because it was too hot for the bad guys to bother or because they were finally learning to stay away from his neighborhood. Currently, he swung on a hammock suspended between two buildings, waiting for some kind of crime to stop. It was getting close to the end of Mr. Stark's imposed curfew but he had been hoping for just a little more action before the night was over.

Then Karen's soft voice broke the boring, if peaceful, silence, "Peter, I'm receiving a distress call from FRIDAY."

Peter stopped swinging as his skin prickled. Instantly on alert, he could not keep the tinge of fear from his pseudo-calm voice, "Not from Mr. Stark?" Panic started to worm its way into his mind. The suits were rarely the ones that called for help.

"No, it was sent from his suit, it's too garbled for even me to make out but she sent a location burst with it."

"Put it up on the screen and get me there." Peter quickly squashed his nerves and took off in the direction Karen had indicated.

For whatever reason, Mr. Stark was much closer to Queens than normal, so it did not take Peter long to get there. It was an old storage facility, Peter had seen it before on some of his more wide ranging patrols but he had never been inside, even thought it always looked like one of those places that were begging for trouble. Crawling up the side of the building as quietly as he could, Peter peaked into one of the windows on the third floor. It was dark but he could make out some movement on the first floor, he found it a little odd that he could not find the glow of Mr. Stark's suit but brushed the thought aside, he was probably in a different room. Realizing he needed a better vantage point, he headed down to one of the lower levels of windows. The closer he got, the quicker his breathing sped up, his spider sense was going crazy. Whatever was going on here, was not good. There were multiple threats from every angle.

As he crept down to the first level of windows, Peter peeked in again, his vision much clearer from this angle, "Karen, can you help me out here? What am I looking at?" The eyes of his suit narrowed as Karen focused in on the scuffling people in the center of the warehouse. The infrared helped him to distinguish what was going on but not who was who. From what he could tell, a large group of men were beating on one man in the center but there was no sign of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suit. Peter was already figuring out a way to get inside and help the man who was obviously at the group's mercy but fear was starting to creep into his chest when he still did not see his mentor, "Karen, can you tell where Mr. Stark is?"

His friend did not say anything but she did focus more clearly on the man in the center of the thug ring, "Peter, that is Mr. Stark. I'm reading the residue from his…"

Peter did not wait to hear the rest. He shot up to the second level of windows, his heart pounding in his ears and tongue sticking to the top of his mouth as he shot a web, using it to give him enough of an arc to crash through the first row of windows.

He tucked as he rolled and sprang up into a run. Quickly asking for one more thing, "Karen, can you get one of the quinjets here?" Her confirmation was the last thing he heard before his fist slammed into the back of one of the men in the ring. Peter threw him back and webbed him to the floor without a second thought. His entrance was so unexpected that everyone froze and he used their surprise to his advantage, quickly webbing up three more before they even knew what hit them. He tore through the men as if they were nothing, letting his fear drive his actions. The men were quickly incapacitated, most webbed to the floor or walls around them but a few unfortunately souls were hanging from the walk paths the floor up with webbing holding their hands fast. Peter dropped to his knees beside his mentor, his mask melting back into the rest of his suit as he looked him over. The state of Mr. Stark made him want to vomit, he could tell his leg was broken and given how bad his breathing sounded, more than just his leg was wrong. Peter could not squash the terror that consumed him as he brushed his hand through Mr. Stark's hair and he tried to comprehend the blood that seemed to be sluggishly pulsing from every part of his body. He could not hold back the whine that escaped his lips, "Mr. Stark?" It was punctuated by fear, pain, and something else. But then another sound broke through his shattered consciousness.

"Ahh, the little spider. I won't lie to you, I expected him to call anyone else." The disembodied voice rang through the space as people Peter had not expected to see melted out of the shadows.

The voice scared Peter. He did not realize there was anyone else in the warehouse. Instantly, his mask slid back over his face and he crouched low over Mr. Stark's body, whoever this person was, he was a threat. "Who are you?" Peter hated how weak his voice sounded, how pathetic he looked crouched low, hand tightly gripping Mr. Stark's shoulder like his life depended on it.

The voice did not answer, just kept taunting, "You're the youngest aren't you. Now, I'm very disappointed he didn't call anyone else. Oh well, you won't be the one to stop me."

Peter mentally shook himself, the only way they were getting out of this, the only way he could protect Mr. Stark was to end this quickly. Steeling himself for the fight he was guessing was about to come to him, he whispered to his friend, "Karen, I need you to tell me how many more there are."

She answered back, voice equally quiet, "I cannot tell, Peter. Something is blocking my sensors." But the words were only just uttered when heat signatures began to materialize in the shadows. The fear crept back up again as Peter realized there were a few more than ten men in the warehouse.

Karen seemed to read his thoughts, "I count another sixteen men, Peter. Please be careful."

"Thanks Karen." Peter whispered.

The men slowly stalked toward him and Peter took that in, adjusting his strategy in his head, he needed to keep them away from Mr. Stark. He still could not tell where the leader was speaking from though. Realizing he needed him to talk a bit more, Peter asked a question, "Why are you doing this?"

"You really are the young one aren't you?" The snide comment was tinged with contempt that Peter did not realize he had earned. Then the voice sighed, "Here's what you don't yet understand Spider-man, sometimes people do things because they want to and other times people do things because they need to happen. This is just one of those times when those two reasons coincided." The condescension in his voice would have been enough to make Peter mad if he was not so used to it from Flash.

"But why him?" Peter was buying time, Karen had the location of the quinjet up on his display along with the location of the men. Two of the men were advancing a bit faster than the others, they were where he would start.

"Why Stark? It is that confluence I was talking about. He had what I wanted and this needed to happen. Stark needs to learn that he's nothing more than a man with a suit." Then the man paused for a moment and Peter braced for what he assumed was the fight starting, until the voice came again, curious this time, "Is your suit the same as his? I saw the way your mask moved. Did he give his pet spider the same tech?"

When Peter did not answer, the man filled in the silence, "Well I guess we'll have to take it and find out. Kill him."

As soon as the orders were issued, Peter launched is webs at the two quicker moving men, sliding toward them and knocking them both back before charging at the others. He pulled his punches but after a few men went down quickly, those around him grouped up and attacked.

Peter was agile. He was good at getting away from people who wanted to attack him but even Spider-man could not deflect knives and well placed fists. The fight was a slug fest. Peter felt every blade that slipped passed his guard and every punch that landed when he was busy with someone in front of him. It was difficult to use his webs when the people attacking him were in such close range but he was afraid to move too far out of their vision or they might focus back on Mr. Stark. Which meant that Peter was stopping most of the attacks with his body. Eventually, he managed to web everyone up but he could feel the pain blossoming. Everything hurt but he crouched low in front of Mr. Stark again when clapping erupted through the now quiet warehouse.

"Maybe I underestimated you, little spider." A man emerged out of the shadows to the back of the room, four more men flanking him. "It seems you have more fight than I thought for one so young. So tell me, why do you fight so hard for him? Surely, you have better things to do than defend eccentric billionaires, even if he is an Avenger. I thought you were more of a help out the little guy kind of hero?" The mocking, condescending tone was back.

Peter could not keep the snarl out of his voice when he answered, "Because people like you don't deserve to be free." Capping his anger, Peter redirected the conversation, even as the rage boiled under his skin, "How did you do that by the way? Hide from my sensors?"

"Tsk tsk, little one. You are curious, what's say I show you?" Then he lunged followed closely by the men behind him. Peter jumped out of the way but it was sluggish and he could not avoid the painful shock of whatever the stick the man was wielding caused. Peter could not help but think that it looked like the bo staff Hawkeye used but he had never seen one electrified in that way. It stung.

"Peter," Karen spoke up, "you need to stay away from that, it disrupted the nanobots in your suit where it hit."

"Thanks, Karen," he managed to grind out while avoiding the fists of one of the other men. He swung a little too wide though, giving Peter a window to catch his fist in a web and pin him to the ground. One down.

Peter was normally the one to talk but the pain was starting to get to him so he just let the bad guy share his thoughts.

"See here is what I think," he swung at Peter's legs, forcing him to jump up and over but giving him an angle to incapacity another one of his goons, "I think you're Stark's pet. You owe him something and that is why you're here."

Peter ducked another swing and slid at another one of the men, catching him with a web to his face and flipping him over, webbing him to the floor. He could feel the anger rising in his chest but he did not respond to the man's taunting.

"No, that's not it, is it?" The man caught Peter in the back with the bo and he stumbled forward, feeling the sting of the electricity warp his suit. "Is it because you want him to like you? Is that all this is? You are so desperate for his approval that you are risking your life to save him."

Stamping down hard on how close to home that jab hit, Peter snarled his disapproval but bit his tongue, he could not give this man anything. The staff swung again. Low this time. Peter jumped it but out of no where it still cracked across his chest, his science t-shirt on display as he smacked into the ground behind him.

"I have some news for you, Spider-Man. Tony Stark doesn't want you for anything more than your abilities. You think he gave you that suit out of his innate sense of generosity and philanthropy?" His voice was callous and passionate at the same time as he pontificated.

While the man talked, Peter got to his feet. The other two men rushed him and Peter caught one arm and twisted, he heard the bone break but his attention was focused on the man with the bo. The man who was down, he webbed up. The fifth was just as easy, throughout all of it, the man continued talking.

"He gave you that suit because you could help him. You could be the one to take the risks while he sits in his compound and directs you where to go. Don't kid yourself, he doesn't give a damn about you." Then he rushed at him.

Peter's anger sharpened his senses and he managed to get in a few good hits before jumping up and out of the man's way. Tumbling over his head, he used some webbing to tangle up his feet. He felt the sting of the staff one more time before he got a web around it, yanking it out of the man's hands. Just to be sure, Peter webbed the man's hands to the floor and threw the electrified bo into an unoccupied corner of the warehouse. Forcing himself to calm down, Peter turned back to Mr. Stark. He could have Karen call the police after he got his mentor out of the area. Peter knelt next to the badly injured man, taking a moment to choke back tears so he could actually be useful. The bad guy seemed to notice his hesitation.

The man started to laugh. It was a deep throaty laugh that could only come from a villain and Peter tried to ignore it. But then he started to talk again, "Is he dead yet? My boys, they gave him a pretty good beating, I would imagine it won't take much longer. Course now that you're here, I'm sure he'll be fine." The condescension was back.

Peter was having a hard time dealing with the situation as it was and the man's constant chatter was starting to wear even his considerable patience thin. Peter shook his head, trying to straighten his thoughts and focus but dammit if the entire situation had thrown him off balance.

"What do you think you are going to do exactly?"

At some point throughout the talking, Peter had stepped up to the man and the incredulously asked question snapped him back to the present.

"Are you going to kill me? Payback for killing Stark?" He laughed again.

As soon as he heard the sound, as soon as the man mentioned Mr. Stark's name again Peter could not help the rage taking over his mind. This man had tried to take his dad away from him, was still trying too, and he was laughing about causing that pain. Then a small part of Peter's mind reminded him there was still a good chance Mr. Stark could die. His own injuries were screaming at him and then the man kept going.

"You think you've won don't you, little spider? Tony Stark has far too much confidence in your abilities, or maybe just in his suits."

The intense urge to break the man's face slammed into Peter but he fought it off, that was not what he did. Instead he told himself to just web up the man's mouth and he would stop but as he raised his arm to use the web, that mouth started moving again.

He was talking around a gleaming smile as he said, "I'll just try again, and again, until I get what I want." The man spat venom at Peter, smug arrogance on full display, "Because I know more about you than you think, Peter Parker."

Peter froze mid-web, no one was supposed to know his name outside of the Avengers. Panic joined the rage.

The man continued, "I know that you have an Aunt, that she's your only remaining family now that your poor parents and uncle are dead." He sneered, "I know that for some reason, the Avengers thought it appropriate to make you one of them. And I know that for a convoluted reason you feel like Tony Stark is some kind of what, mentor? But the most important thing I know about you is that no matter how many times you have been pushed, you. Don't. Kill." Then he hissed, "So don't worry about me. I'll escape and if I didn't manage to kill Stark this time, I'll do it the next time. And then I'll come for yo…" The man stopped speaking as the words became garbled gasps. The brain matter sucked and slurped as Peter pulled his clenched hand out of the man's skull. For a second, he just stared. His eyes jumping between his bloody fist and the unrecognizable thing that he knew to be a human skull attached to a slumped body. His brain spun into overdrive and he turned away from what he had done, only one thought acting as a mooring in his mind, Get to Mr. Stark.

Stumbling away from the bloody mess he had just made, Peter fell back over to Mr. Stark. He landed at his mentor's side, hand swinging up over his mouth as he heaved. Bile quickly rose in the back of his throat as vomit threatened to spill out into his mask while the back of his eyes burned with unshed tears. But when he turned to the side, he caught a glimpse of Mr. Stark's quickly blackening face. Swallowing hard, he reminded himself that he could not lose it right now. Once he had Mr. Stark back at the compound where people could actually help him, then he would lose everything he had eaten for a week but not until that happened. Steeling his resolve he looked Mr. Stark over quickly, "Karen, can you scan him please? I need to know if I can move him."

Peter could not help himself, his mask retracted and as he waited for Karen, he had the chance to actually look Mr. Stark over. He looked horrible and Peter could not keep the tears from falling. Karen interrupted his thoughts, "Peter, there is something blocking my scans. Its difficult to tell what but there is a slight field around him that is disrupting any electrical equipment. It seems to originate at the reactor but it is difficult to tell."

Wiping his arm across his eyes, Peter looked for a reason when he saw the metallic disk. That had to be why Karen could not get a reading and Peter could not explain why but he knew it was also the reason Bleeding Edge was not functioning. Working the disk back and forth, he managed to break the seal enough to wedge a finger under it and yank. The disk held for a moment longer before yielding, popping off with an oddly wet metallic sound before it shifted in his hand, morphing into a small metal ball about the size of a marble. "Karen, see if that did it," Peter absentmindedly ordered as he rolled the ball in his fingers a couple of times before sliding it into a mentally created pocket in his suit and turning his attention back to Mr. Stark. While he waited for Karen, he found himself running his gloved hands through his mentor's hair, offering what he hoped was comfort and at least letting Mr. Stark know he was not on his own.

Karen's calm voice filled his helmet again, "Peter, you need to get Mr. Stark to a hospital immediately."

The fear Peter had been carefully keeping at bay slammed into him as Karen continued, "His right leg was broken in multiple places including a displaced knee. He has multiple contusions and tears. Six ribs are broken and one has punctured a lung…"

Peter's sob stopped the AI, "Peter, I'm sorry. You asked." There was almost a guilt in her voice as she said it, or Peter just imagined it, projected it, maybe from his own pain. He swallowed back the sob again, "Karen please just tell me if I can move him. The quinjet is not far from here, I can get him there but I need to make sure it won't ki…" he choked, "kill him."

"Peter I do not know if he can be moved but he will die if he stays here." She sounded so sad.

That was really all the kid needed to hear. Carefully sliding an arm under Mr. Stark's shoulders and the other under his knees, he was about to lift him when Karen came back over the com, "Peter, the reactor is coming back online, FRIDAY is rebooting."

"That's good news," the teenager ground out before carefully lifting Mr. Stark's body and shifting so the unconscious man's head could rest on his shoulder. Ignoring the pain that shot through his body with every step, Peter slowly made his way to the quinjet waiting just outside.

It did not take long to make it back to the compound. Karen had alerted the doctors and they were waiting in the hanger when the jet landed. They immediately had Tony on a stretcher and headed to where they could help him.

But that left Peter on his own.

The physical pain he was in lingered but the emotional pain born from the realization that Mr. Stark might not survive became more pronounced and Peter leaned back against the side of the jet, watching the stretcher roll away. As soon as it was out of his sight he slid to the ground, tucked his knees to his chest, and cried into his crossed arms.

Then the sight of the man's destroyed face crowded its way into his mind's eye and Peter lurched to the side as he vomited everything he could from his stomach. Tears mixed with spit as he sobbed on the floor of the quinjet, desperate for something to latch on to but not able to find anything.

That was how Happy found him an hour later.

"Peter?" The voice he had heard so many times on the answering machine was instantly recognizable and Spider-Man shakily sat up to address his visitor. But he did not say anything, could not say anything.

"They just told me it was you that brought Tony in, I'm so sorry I did not come out here sooner." There was actual guilt in his tone as he took in the bruised and battered teenager before him. "You look like you need to see a doctor too, kid." Happy leaned down and looped his arm around Peter's back, forcing the nearly limp kid to stand. When he did, Happy looked at him with badly veiled worry.

It took him a second but Peter fixed his eyes on Happy's face, with only one question in mind, "How is Mr. Stark?"

The worry only grew with a frown as Happy answered, "I don't know. He's not out of surgery yet, kid. I'm sorry."

Peter's eyes welled up and Happy through his arm over his shoulder, half leading, half carrying him out of the plane and into the medical wing where someone could look him over while he waited to hear about his mentor.

So there you go. Hopefully you enjoyed the first chapter and I will be updating soon!

I hope everyone has a wonderful day!

-Lily