Panzy strikes again.

The fate of our hero hangs in the balance.

This author watches gleefully as you sit at the edge of your seats, dreading the mighty Cliffhanger!

Happy Holidays. XOXO

Disclaimer: I ain't not never own anything. Which means no, for the illiterate. Triple negative equals a negative.

Chapter 10: Keep Breathin'

Peter tried to smirk but he was sure it came off as a grimace. As much as he wanted to laugh at the moment, he was tragically reminded of the time Uncle Ben dressed up as Santa one Christmas. It was supposed to be a surprise, but Peter had woken up early and came down to his Aunt May and Santa kissing on the kitchen table.

Needless to say, that year's gift opening was a quiet and awkward affair. He was traumatized and couldn't look at Santa Claus the same way for a long time after that.

He felt like that at this moment but instead of his Aunt shagging Santa Claus, it was his mother and the literal representation of a nation. Which was way worse.

Ugh.

"Uhh….Right!" Natasha was quick to pull herself together. "Steve meet Peter, my son."

Peter had to give the man credit when he only faltered for a second before he nodded and turned back to Natasha. The man must be working at miles a minute because he had scanned the room, Peter, and their conditions all while being dropped an apparent bomb in the middle of a dank prison cell.

Natasha stepped towards him and motioned for Steve to follow. She put a steadying hand on his shoulder and presented him to Steve. With the intimidating soldier before him, Peter was able to see a myriad of emotions run through the man's eyes.

He got a front row seat to the confusion, suspicion and finally the acceptance that swirled inside those steel blue eyes. And when the man rose a hand in offering, Peter barely hesitated to lift his aching arms to shake the man's hand. He even matched the man's crushing grip with one of his own.

This was a man who cared about his mother. And however brief he has known Natasha, he was glad to know someone would stand at her side and come to her defense. Even if it was him she needed defending against.

Natasha rolled her eyes and smacked Steve's shoulder. Ignoring the way he looked like a kicked puppy in response. She allowed herself a small smile before preparing herself for what's to come.

"What's happened since I was taken?" she questioned.

Peter watched the man snap to attention, "Short version or the long one?"

Natasha merely raised an eyebrow.

"Right, the short one." Steve sighed. "Those enhanced twins switched sides, Thor returned, Tony created an android named Vision, who lifted Thor's hammer by the way, and Ultron still plans to destroy the world."

Steve was then confronted by two pairs of identical green eyes that stared back at him with incomprehension. He sighed and nodded in answer, knowing that he had no other words for what's happened.

Natasha was the first one to gather her wits. "We need to get out there then."

Steve nodded and they headed for the door, only to stop halfway and look back at the injured teen with them. Peter shook his head.

"Is there going to be a lot of walking and/or running? Because I'm barely standing up right now, and I don't think I'll be much help."

Natasha looked worried, "How far can you make it?"

Peter shrugged and took a step forward, only for his legs to give out under him and send him tumbling to the ground. Luckily, Steve was able to catch him before he hit the floor. Holding the underweight and battered teen in his arms.

"Ugh, that sucked." he moaned.

Steve easily lifted the teen into his arms, making sure to keep him tucked behind his shield as best he could. He glanced at Natasha, nodding his head towards the door.

"You lead," Natasha nodded, sparing a worried look at the boy he held close. Taking note of his eyes clenched shut, she tried talking to ease his pain.

"Already getting the princess treatment, Peter?" Natasha chuckled. "He hasn't even carried me like that yet, I'm jealous."

Peter snorted. "But I barely know him, at least by me dinner first."

Steve flushed as Natasha laughed in response. He could see that they were more alike than he even knew. But he could live with the teasing if it meant they would be more at ease. He felt the teen slowly release his tensed up muscles.

They rounded a corner and ran straight into a trio of Ultron bots. He barely had time to react when Natasha was already moving. Her lithe body pouncing on the bots and tearing them apart. The encounter lasting only a few seconds at most.

Natasha smashed the last robot and turned to look at her boys. Her Boys. And nearly laughed at their identical looks of amazement, before continuing on. Only offering a quick smile in return.

Steve was suddenly reminded that he loved that woman. Yes, loved. His feelings were all over the place. Part of him still loved Peggy, but this new part of him could only think about Natasha. And as time went on, the feelings only grew. He was hopelessly in love with her now. And he was okay with that.

Fortunately, the rest of the way out of the old base was encounter free. They moved quickly and before Peter knew it, they were outside the old base in the snow. In the cold snow.

He wasn't in Queens anymore.

"Where are we?"

Peter felt the man's firm chest rumble as he answered, "Sokovia."

Which was just fantastic. Just another wonderful situation he'd gotten himself in to.

Nothing else was said until they made it to the quinjet. They only took a few seconds to get Peter secured and for Natasha to hop into the cockpit, while Steve looked for a first aid kit.

"Bruce let the Hulk out?" she asked as her fingers glided across the panels.

Steve nodded, "He kicked in the front door."

He crouched before Peter, taking out bandages and applying disinfectant. The teen was really beat up and Steve was impressed with the kid's resilience.

The jet picked up off the ground as sounds of its guns spun up. Peter grunted when the plane shook more than he was prepared for and knocked his head on the back of his seat.

A voice came over some speakers before he could voice his complaint. "Rogers did you find- nevermind. Romanoff, welcome to the party."

The eye patch of Nick Fury came up on a screen in the front of the plane. Peter was suddenly reminded of how the man had been lying to him.

"Director, always pleasant to see you with my own two eyes." she snarked.

Fury only scowled before he looked past her and caught sight of Peter in the back. "I see. Kid, what are you doing?"

Peter got to his feet, feeling Steve guide him towards the monitor. "It needs to be said, that this wasn't my fault. And shame on you, oldtimer."

"Okay, so I lied, happy now?" Fury grumbled. "It was for your own safety and for the greater good."

"Oh don't quote Albus Dumbledore back to me," Peter grumbled back. Shaking his head in denial. "This is not even close to a Harry Potter situation. And you know it!"

Natasha somehow gave them both a stare that shut them up at the same time, saying in an overly calm tone, "Know each other, do you?"

Peter looked away, "That's a trap."

Fury nodded in agreement. But being the adult, decided it was best to get things over with. "I've kept track of him since he was young."

The quinjet swerved dangerously to the right as a blue explosion went off outside the windows. Natasha hit a button and sounds of more explosions followed. Her calm demeanor never faltering in the face of destruction.

Steve really couldn't be blamed for the death grip he had on Peter's shoulders.

Fury scowled, "Reinforcements are on their way, but in the meantime," he glared at the two Avengers, "You both are needed on the battlefield, I suggest to stash the kid and get to it. You have a job to do."

The screen went black and the only the staggered breathing of Peter filled the room. He glanced at Natasha and almost wished they could just leave. But when he saw the fighting on the streets and in the air, he knew that he couldn't hold them back.

He put a comforting hand on his mother's shoulder. Feeling the tense muscles beneath his fingertips.

"He is right, for once." he snorted. "That sneaky bastard."

She turned to him and they locked eyes. A conversation of souls taking place. Steve felt uncomfortable until Natasha nodded, her once impenetrable mask showing another sign of cracking.

Natasha put the jet down in a clearing and then started to grab her gear. Her eyes focused on the weapons in her hands. She was quick to grab everything she needed before she stopped at one of the side walls. A panel filled with guns greeted her, but she ignored most of them to grab an easy to handle pistol and two extra mags.

Walking up to Peter she grabbed his hand and put the pistol in it. Her eyes never leaving his as she did. "Do you know how to use this?"

If he had been talking to Fury, the boy should know how. His grave nod was all she needed. Closing his hand over the weapon, she reached forward and pulled him into her arms. Taking the small moment to breathe in his scent. To feel him in her arms and listen to his heartbeat. Knowing full well that she could never have the chance to do so again.

Sounds of fighting made them break apart, Peter doing his best to stand strong. Green meets green eyes. "This is not goodbye, just a see you later. Yeah?"

Natasha grinned, "Yeah, just a see you later."

She walked over to Steve as he opened the back ramp. Scanning for threats before taking one last look back at Peter, she ran out of the quinjet to join her team in the final fight.

Peter felt his smile slowly break and fall to pieces as the door closed after them. For the first time, he was on the other side of this goodbye. Watching someone you care about to run off to fight a battle that you could not fight with them really sucked.

After staring at the door for what must have been minutes, he finally looked down at the pistol in his hand. Hating what the gun stood for and what it could do, didn't stop his hands from quickly putting in the magazine and cocking the action. Fifteen in the clip, one in the chamber. Ready to fire.

Flicking the safety on, he stumbled back towards his seat. Intent on trying to get some rest and ignore the death stick he held in his hands. Just before he could sit down, the monitor in the front kicked on, showing the irritated face of Nick Fury.

"Kid!" he barked.

Peter sighed, "Yeah, old man?"

"We got new info from Stark, that whole area is about to be lifted into the air. You need to get that plane out of the danger zone."

Peter cursed, his legs nearly buckling as he ambled over to the pilot's seat. When got there, he stared at the many buttons and switches. And he froze. Slowly, he turned to look at Fury. "Houston, we have a problem."

Before Fury could speak, a bang rattled the jet. Spinning so fast he almost fell, Peter had the pistol aimed at the door and the safety off. Another bang had him stepping forward, his eye briefly glancing at Fury's pinched face on the screen.

"Where are the shots of adrenaline and painkillers?" he softly asked.

Fury sighed, his hand pointing off to the other side of the quinjet. "Third panel down, second across. Take twice your bodyweight worth, your powers won't let them work otherwise."

Peter nodded and moved to grab the medicine. Ignoring the steady increase of bangs on the door. Briefly fumbling with the loose medication, he turned back to the cockpit to hold up his finds.

Fury nodded, "Take the adrenaline now, painkillers if it wears off before help arrives."

Peter grinned at the man and ignored the sting from the shot. It only took a moment for his heart to start racing and the pain to ease. "Woah, that's fast. And strong, tell me how far the danger zone is from-"

He grabbed from behind and thrown out of the jet. His body tumbling in the air before crashing hard on the frozen ground. Gasping for air, he made a mental note about his lack of spidey sense.

A group of Ultron bots moved towards him, their sleek bodies quick as they came down on him. Rolling out of the way, he raised the gun and let it bark. Bullets of death cracking against the thin metal of the bots and tearing various circuits from their bodies. Two drop before he has to dodge the charged blasts from another three.

Twelve bullets.

Using a nearby rock as cover, he put four shots into another before ducking to dodge a blast at the last moment.

Eight bullets, two targets.

"Answer me!" Fury commanded. "Damn it, Peter!"

Popping up, fired at the bot furthest from him, only for it to dodge his first two shots. Clipping it with his third, Peter scowled as he dropped down behind cover once again.

Five bullets, two targets.

He popped up to fire again but was sent back under when a dozen more bots arrived at the scene. Their blasts scorching the rock. The rain of fire felt like it was never ending, and he could feel the heat seep through his clothes.

Scratch that. Five bullets, fourteen targets.

Taking advantage of a quick lull in their barrage, he blindly fired the last five bullets over his shoulder as he moved position. Only stopping to put another magazine into the pistol. A brief peak over his new cover showed that he had hit two of the bots and they exploded, taking out another five.

Damn Parker Luck! Seven targets remaining, Fifteen bullets.

Feeling the ground start to shift under him, he risked a glance at the quinjet. And immediately cursed his luck. Somehow he was further away than he thought, sitting about twenty meters away. And his path was blocked by the remaining Ultron bots and little to no cover left.

With no other viable options presented to him, he went to the worst-case scenario. Which meant he punched himself in the ribs in order for his body to produce more adrenaline to counteract the rising pain. And then he jumped out from behind cover to rush the jet.

Did he survive this reckless and stupid action? Yes. How, you may ask? Plot Armor. Obviously.

Peter crashed heavily into the pilot's seat, stowing the pistol behind him in order to have a hand free.

"Nick!" he yelled at the screen. Barely noticing that the man had been yelling at someone else.

"Bring him up on the big monitor."

"Nick," Peter panted. Ignoring the way his hands shook uncontrollably. He was thrown back into the seat as the ground shifted under him.

"Are you alright? Did you get out of there?" Fury questioned.

Peter shook his head, "No! That's the problem, I don't know how to fly."

"What do you mean, you don't know how to fly?" He barked. "You can do everything except fly?"

"I'm sorry that flying was never covered in any of my plotlines!" Peter screamed hysterically. "And even if it was, it wasn't this plotline!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing!" he was thrown around again but felt the earth under him begin to rise up. "Give me a crash course! Quickly!"

"Alright! Turn the power on, the round button- no the other round one. Flip all three of those first switches above your head."

He felt the quinjet start to spin up, but it kept stalling before it completely started. "Why isn't it starting?!"

"Did you press down on the pedal?"

Peter looked down at his feet unbelievably, "This thing has a gas pedal? Why does it have a gas pedal?"

"I'll take that as a no." Fury grumbled. Feeling his age all too well.

"Okay, Okay, okay, oka- press down on the pedal... And it starts! Haha." he cheered.

"Don't celebrate yet, you still need to control it!" Fury reprimanded.

"Right!" Peter did his best to ignore the jet slowly slipping off the edge of the floating city. Totally not panicking at the height in which he was at.

"Alright, now see that lever on the left, yes that one, that one controls the speed. And the joystick in front of you controls the direction. Got it?"

"That seems like a really watered down version of it."

"Got. It?"

"That's a copy."

"Okay, now get off that damn floating chunk of rock!" Fury yelled.

Peter nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. Just as he is about to start flying, the ground underneath the jet gives way and send him hurtling towards the earth. It's like time freezes as he is lifted from the seat and just sort of floats above it. He just sort of watches in an out-of-body experience as the pistol floats past his face in slow motion.

"Eh?"

Then all at once, he is thrown into the roof of the jet. His back slamming roughly against the metal above him. His vision blurring when it knocks the breath out of him.

He idly feels himself be thrown into the seat when the jet flips over. It's only the reaction of his sticking powers that keep him from being flung out of the seat again.

Which means he is stuck to the seat, upside down. And is being shot towards the earth in a metal death trap at increasingly alarming speeds. All while he listens to an angry middle-aged man, scream the word 'motherfucker' in his ears.

Ah right.

Flipping back into the right seating position, he grabs hold of the joystick. Using his strength, he wrestles the unruly jet into a more controlled dive. As he breaks through a cloud, he is nearly scared by the giant floating ship that he falls past.

Glancing at the monitor, he grins at the scowl on Fury's face. "Hey, thought I'd just drop in."

"You're going to crash if you don't start flying instead of making terrible puns."

"Spoilsport," Peter grumbled. Before he turns back to the monitor to peer closer at the screen.

"What?" Fury turns but can't see what he was looking at.

"Is that the original version of Galaga? That's so cool."

"Damn it, Peter! If you motherfucking die, I'm going to resurrect your motherfucking ass and send you back to the motherfucking underworld my motherfucking self!"

"Okay, geez." Peter pushed the throttle and leveled the plane so it was parallel with the ground. "Take it easy on the motherfucker's Nick, it's bad for your health. You need to relax."

"Peter, stop it."

"Come on, say it with me." Peter grinned. "Woosah. Woosa- ope, he hung up on me. Went too far with that one."

The only reason he'd been joking with Fury was that he could feel the adrenaline wearing off and the pain comes back. His breaths became shallow as he felt his ribs scrape against his lungs at every deep breath.

And as the pain grew with every breath he took, he began to get scared. Fear hadn't been something that held a part of him since he lost May. Who had time to fear things when you didn't care about your own wellbeing?

It wasn't until now, that he'd had a future he was afraid of losing. So when he reaches for the painkillers in his pocket, he plans to only take enough to dull the pain and not take it away.

But when he wraps his hand around the pills, the back door is torn off and the main Ultron body comes crashing through the jet. He reaches for the gun but when he cannot find it, he remembers it floating past his face.

"Trying to run away, spider?" Ultron chuckles. His large hands yanking Peter out of the cockpit.

Peter punches up at the robot. Using his entire body to try to fight off Ultron. But his attacks are useless. His fists bouncing harmlessly off the upgraded Ultron.

He tries to bend his body up to get some leverage but forgets about his broken ribs. This causes a white hot flash of pain to burn through his chest. Suddenly his shortness of breath turns into the lack therefore of.

He can't breathe! Air wasn't entering his lungs no matter how many gulps he tried to get.

Ultron notices his wheezing and only laughs cruelly at Peter. "That would be the hole in your lungs from the stray rib fragment that broke off."

The robot begins to cackle, caught up in humor only he can understand. Peter's eyes widen in alarm as he is dragged towards the back of the quinjet. With half his body on the floor, it's by sheer luck that his limp hand comes across the pistol he'd lost.

"How fitting, that I would get to be here for your death. Don't you think? Real poetic."

Slowly suffocating, he holds the gun with a white-knuckled grip. Ultron's voice was grating on his nerves. With his vision blurring, dark spots began to dance across his sight. He was in his endgame now, and with seemingly only moments left to live, he made his move.

He'd rather go out fighting anyway.

Ultron is about to toss him towards the exit, when he leaps upward, using his momentum to take Ultron off balance. Sticking to the ceiling and pushing back off towards the floor, he breaks Ultron's hold on him.

Crashing against the unforgiving metal, he is barely able to pick up the pistol and fire into the back of Ultron. Though the first few bullets don't do much, the rest of them enter the robot and tear him apart from the inside. Which also has the side effect of sending the robot out of the giant hole he had made when he entered.

Peter falls onto his back, body going limp. He'd done it. He'd finally shut that stupid robot up once and for all. It was so quiet. Finally, he could rest.

He barely notices the blinking red light and sirens going off.

His eyes are still locked on the hole in the ship. Watching as the world spun and spun, hey, who was flying this thing? They were terrible. This was the worst ride of his life, let him get off.

He never hears the terrified voice of Nick Fury as he pleads for Peter to get up. Never sees the lone tear streak down the man's eye.

Make it stop, please?

But his eyes were so heavy. And they wouldn't stay open. He was so tired and what was that on his hand.

It was wet. And it was Red.

Red was important. Red was hope. Red was future. Red was...

"Mom?"

And then it all went black.

Since the story doesn't say complete, that must mean that our hero has survived?

Very astute of you, my dear friend. Why yes, it would seem so!

Jolly good!