Tony couldn't believe it. Here he was working on one of the various projects he could have completed a long while ago if he had motivation, when the door hisses open and in steps the man responsible for all of this. Tony was about to say something incredibly snarky and quite inappropriate when his jaw dropped as he saw a small and fragile Peter standing behind him, head down, hand rubbing his right shoulder, though his hand and frame were hidden beneath a giant sweatshirt that could have been a dress. All of the words that were about to spew from his mouth died the second he saw the kid, and he could only form one instead.

"Peter?" The kid lifted his head to meet Tony's eyes before looking back at the floor, with his right hand rubbing his left shoulder now. Tony could have sworn he saw some sort of mischievous sparkle in his eyes, but he doubted it from the body language the kid was giving off.

"Hello Tony, nice to see you've been getting something done instead of twiddling your thumbs."

"What did you do?"

"Oh Tony, I merely played him a tape of you telling him you gave up on him, that you didn't care, so I think you did something, not me." Tony blinked and was about to respond he never said that when he remembered the conversation the two had previous. 'Must have spliced words together', Tony thought, 'goddamn bastard son of a bi-'

"All it took were a few little words to break down an entire will. A fascinating thing, whoever said that words will never hurt was wrong. Words are far worse than any sort of stick or stone, because words never leave. I myself still remember words said to me when I was merely four. It's not the sticks and stones that will kill you, they help sure, but it's the words that crush the soul to the point where they give up."

"Peter, Pete look at me, what did he do to you," Tony pleaded to the kid, begging him to look him in the eyes, but the kid merely hugged himself tighter and shrank away, causing Tony to feel as though a dagger was run through his heart. 'This is all my fault', his mind whispered.

"He broke Stark. He told me everything." Peter twitched his nose. That was a lie, he told him jackshit. The thing was, he knew that the man was trying to get the better of Tony, so Peter glanced up at the man whom he looked up to for years and met his gaze.

Tony stared into the kid's eyes, seeing so much flowing in them that it was hard to decipher what he was trying to convey, but if there's one thing that Tony got, it was that the kid was far from broken. The man couldn't know that though, so Peter let his head fall back down, hugging himself tighter and trying to inch away from the man when he slung an arm over his shoulders. Peter stiffened, and Tony saw how uncomfortable and terrified Peter was.

"He's mine now Stark, and there's nothing you can do about it." With that, the pair spun around and left the room. Before the door shut though, Peter met eyes with Tony one last time and tried to tell him that he was fine, that he knew what he was doing. The problem was that he had know way of knowing if Tony thought he had broken or not. Time would tell.

Peter ended up back in his room for that night, and the next he was told he'd be visiting Captain America himself. Peter didn't know the man all that well besides when the man kicked him in the chest and dropped an airport terminal on top of him, as well as the various videos that his school played as a part of the curriculum. He needed to let the man know he was fine, while simultaneously conveying he wasn't. Piece of cake.

The room was bleak and bare, a typical captive-holding area that one would see in a movie. Steve was strapped to a chair with shackles like the one's that had to be used to hold Peter. Well, they were used until he managed to break out of the supposedly unbreakable during one of his rage moments. The Room was a mess and he was severely punished, as in they killed him, only for him to find out that they let his heart restart on its own, causing the boy to internally groan when he thought about how much strain his heart was being put through. The death part didn't really hit him until a few days later.

Steve's neck was strapped to the metal chair as well, probably to prevent too much movement. Peter winced in sympathy. He knew how it felt to be in that chair, that's where they put him when he refused to obey one time and they left him there for hours, in the dark, with only a steady drip to accompany him. He nearly went mad and was extremely sore for days after being held in the same position. He couldn't imagine what it was like to be sitting in the chair for days felt like.

Peter played his role of a scared, broken boy with perfection because that's all he was. The only reason that he was still standing on his two feet was the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As soon as it would wear off, Peter would be slumped against the ground, unwilling to move or do much of anything.

Here he was, facing a man who punched him in the face, being stared at with wide eyes.

"You brought a kid into this? Do you have any sort of morals? What kind of a person brings a child to this place?" The man chuckled at the Captain's response as he pulled Peter next to him, an arm around the boy's shoulders. Steve noticed how the boy stiffened and his body language read that he wanted so badly to run. Why he didn't, Steve could only imagine, and it wasn't pretty.

"I'm merely following Mr. Stark's lead of bringing a child into a fight. I mean, you had no problem dropping around sixty tons of metal on him did you Rogers?" Steve winced and then realization hit him.

"Wait, you're that Spider-kid?" Peter nodded meekly, making eye contact with the Captain briefly, trying to show him he was able to handle it on his own, before looking back down at the floor.

"I mentioned having the kid to you when we first spoke Rogers. You didn't expect him to look or be this young did you? Do you feel something, knowing you could have crushed him, or killed him? I bet you do." Steve registered the words, but just barely. He was trying to determine what he had seen in the kid's eyes. There was an unbelievable amount of determination, but also fear and pain, hiding in his eyes.

"I do, but I knew he could handle the weight."

"How, might I ask?"

"He was doing a decent job keeping up with me. Hell, if he had any sort of training, he might have won," Steve said with a soft smile, seeing how the kid's eyes widened slightly in shock before they clouded over with sadness and his head dropped again. Steve pursed his lips in thought. This kid was hurting, bad. He was missing for over a month, and no one knew what happened during that time.

"Well, I'd have to agree with you. You see, during one of our tests, it was determined that this child here has the strength to cave a man's skull in to the point where they are unrecognizable, with one blow, at around half strength. Not even you could do that much damage at half strength Mr. Rogers, we know, we've seen your strength in action. His strength is still developing as well. The more he grows, the stronger he gets. He's already surpassed you and your precious Bucky, and is possibly verging on Hulk strength, though I doubt it." Steve stared at the tiny child. He looked like a light breeze could blow him over, and the baggy sweatshirt and pants didn't help his lost child/kicked puppy hybrid look one bit.

"That's impressive," was all Steve could think to say, getting a chuckle from the man.

"Very much so. Do you want to know a secret Rogers? We don't need you, any of you really. We just need the boy. You see, while your abilities are impressive, and Tony and Banner's minds are equally so, this boy has everything. His intellect far surpasses both Stark's and Banner's combined, and his abilities are equal or superior to yours. His senses, strength, healing, speed, it's all better than yours to some extent. And he's still growing, meaning his abilities are still developing. The best part of all of this Rogers. He's mine now." Steve was glaring at the man, but his eyes glanced frantically to the kid, noting how broken down and tired he seemed. The tense slouch, the downcast eyes, the hiding in large clothes. The kid looked like he had given up, and it was heartbreaking.

"That's not true."

"I'm afraid it is Rogers. You see, all it took were a few words from a supposed mentor to break down the hope he rebuilt during his time here. I was thinking that maybe I overdid it and I made him unbreakable while trying to break him. Turns out, all I needed to do was make him see he wasn't needed. Goodbye Captain," the man said, turning and dragging the kid out with him. Peter managed to catch Steve's worry-filled eyes one last time before the door slid shut, effectively preventing the angry shouts from escaping the room. Peter felt terrible for making them worry about him, but he had to, to make this work.

Over the next four days, he met with the other four Avengers. The only one who seemed to know who he was was Natasha, which wasn't surprising. The thing that hit Peter the most was how concerned the Widow seemed. She kept herself looking composed, but any mention of what happened to Peter, or how broken he was, she seethed with barely controlled anger. Murder was written on her features, and flames danced in her eyes as the man and Peter left the room.

They all seemed to care about him, even if they didn't actually know him. This only cemented his want to break them out. And now that he knew what the defenses were, and how they were being held, he could start working on a plan.

The seventh day came and he sat with Art in his office in silence. Peter wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting there, and maybe he pushed it too far and lost the chance he had, or maybe he didn't. He had ended up in Art's office and told him, in a soft manner, that he could upgrade the security features around the Avengers and base if he wanted him to.

"It wouldn't be difficult or long, just a few minor strands of code. You can even go through them if you want afterwards," Peter had said, and the room lapsed into a deadly silence. This was ten minutes ago. He was just about to speak again when Art held up a hand and waved it, telling him to go.

"Go for it kid, just make sure I look at every little bit alright, no hiding anything from me. And make sure that everything is secure. We can't have anyone getting out, not yet, not before they're broken."

"Thank you sir," Peter mumbled softly before standing and being escorted to the control room. He kept his head staring at the floor, arms hugging himself to try to quell the anxiety that was clutching his soul at the moment, and smirked to himself. A few unassuming strands of code were all he needed to get into the system. Then, soon, everyone would be free.

He would fix everything.