At some point Peter must've eventually fallen asleep, because the slam of a door snapped him awake. He blinked gritty eyes and tried to reorient himself. Based on how he felt, still muddled from exhaustion, he guessed he couldn't have been out for more than a couple hours.

His head spun and pounded and his tongue felt thick and sticky in his mouth. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since lunch at school the day before.

"Apparently Stark doesn't care about you as much as I thought." Ross growled as he walked over to him. He looked pissed. His lackey had a small smirk on his face. Peter had a bad feeling about this.

"Huh?" He frowned. The words hadn't quite sunk in. His mental fuzziness definitely wasn't going to do him any favors when it came to figuring out an escape plan.

"I've given him over 24 hours and as far as I can tell, he hasn't lifted a single finger to do what I asked." Ross said.

"Oh." Peter's face fell. He tried to stifle the hurt. Maybe the Accords were more important than him. He guessed that made sense. He was just some stupid kid. The Avengers and the Accords governing them were crucially important to the world. What did he expect?

"Clearly your father," Ross spat the moniker like a dirty word, "needs more incentive to comply."

Well, that didn't sound good.

As he watched, Mike came closer, still smirking as he pulled a handgun out and checked that the clip was full before replacing it with a wink at Peter.

Peter swallowed hard as his heart picked up its pace. He tried tugging on his restraints again without making it obvious, but he was still stuck.

"So let's see what we can do to motivate him. And no talking for you this time." Ross said and Mike moved to tie a white strip of cloth around his mouth.

He tried to jerk his head away to make it more difficult, but when he did, the man cold cocked him with the butt of the gun so hard he saw stars. Once everything evened back out again, the gag was tied tight and he felt even more sick and dizzy. Damn. He took a few deep breaths through his nose to quell the nausea. He couldn't puke now or he might end up choking to death.

"Ready?" Ross asked, but the question was aimed at Mike, not him.

"Ready boss." Mike answered with an eager, toothy grin from where he stood directly on Peter's right side, gun still in hand.

"Time to call daddy dearest." Ross said and then dialed a number on his phone.

"For your sake, you better hope he cares about what happens to you kid." Ross warned him as he brought the phone to his ear.

If someone had asked Peter if he thought Tony cared about him a few days ago he would've answered with complete confidence. Of course. But now, he wasn't as sure. If his dad cared, why was he still stuck here? Why had he just left him with Ross? Maybe this was his punishment for sneaking out or for getting caught in the first place? Maybe he was supposed to learn some kind of lesson?

He couldn't imagine his dad doing that, but he also couldn't imagine his dad leaving him with Ross for this long either. And yet here he was, still tied to a chair.

Even though it was selfish, he really hoped his dad wasn't abandoning him in favor of the Accords.

Tony ran a hand through his greasy locks. He hadn't had a chance to shower since Ross had called. He'd managed to catch a short catnap when he'd passed out around seven in the morning but as soon as he'd woken up, he'd been back at it.

FRIDAY hadn't been able to trace the call he'd made to Ross, but she'd recorded the entire conversation. One of his teammates, Tony's sleep addled brain couldn't remember which one, maybe Scott, had been quick to suggest showing the video to the Accords committee or the president as a solution. And for a brief moment Tony had thought maybe that would work, but then Rhodey had pointed out that all Ross had to do was deny and it and claim Tony had manufactured the video and it'd become a he said she said they didn't have time for.

Sam had argued they should do it anyway if there was a possibility it could work. But then Bruce had shot back and said that even if they used the video on the slim chance it would deliver Peter safely back to them, there was no way the Accords committee and the president wouldn't find out about his connection to Tony and that he was Spiderman, and wasn't that a huge risk in and of itself? Did they really want to do that if there was any other way?

The argument devolved from there with everyone talking over one another to give their two cents. But the end of the dispute happened when Clint reasoned that if they exposed the blackmail, the most likely outcome was that Ross would give up on his pursuit to get his amendments passed, but he'd also probably be quick to kill Peter out of spite and to get rid of any possible evidence that might jeopardize his career. Was exposing the video and Ross's treachery really worth the risk of losing Peter?

The resounding answer had been no. So with that avenue closed to them, all the Avengers had been combing through any leads they could to try to figure out where Ross had taken Peter. They'd gone through phone records, bank records, further scoured New York traffic cameras. They'd done everything they could think of, but so far they'd had no luck, and they'd almost reached Ross's deadline.

Tony glanced up at the clock in his workshop. Shit. They were five minutes past his deadline. He was surprised the man hadn't called him yet. A second later Tony's phone started ringing as if the mere thought of the man had magically conjured him.

"Guys." He called out, not answering yet as he waited for the Avengers to gather back around him from where they were scattered throughout the workshop running their separate leads.

"FRIDAY try to trace the call again." He ordered even though he knew it would probably be pointless since it hadn't worked any of the other times.

Once everyone was close enough, he put the phone on speaker, pressed the answer button, and greeted curtly. "Stark."

"You haven't done what I asked Stark." Ross said.

"I told you it wasn't possible to get what you wanted done in 24 hours." He argued. It wasn't true. If he'd needed to, he could've made it happen, but Ross didn't know that.

"I don't think you quite appreciate the gravity of your son's situation." Ross bit out.

"I'm working on it." He lied. "It's just taking some time."

"I don't believe you." Ross said. "I think you've been stalling, trying to buy time to find him yourself."

"No." He denied even though Ross was spot on.

"Well time's up." Ross growled. "I was generous enough to give you 24 hours and you wasted them."

"I told you I—" He started but Ross cut him off.

"Really, it's my fault." Ross said. "I obviously haven't given you enough incentive. So let's fix that, shall we?"

A cold chill ran down his spine at the threat. The next moment the phone switched to video mode and an image of Peter tied to the chair projected onto the screen. A blonde man stood at his side, and after a couple seconds he recognized him as the Michael Bauer guy they knew had been working for Ross.

And he was holding a gun.

Tony's breath caught.

"I think I need to prove to you that I'm not bluffing." Ross continued and the next moment the man held the gun to Peter's temple.

"No!" The protest was automatic, involuntary really, at seeing his son's life in danger.

"Because I'll do it Stark. I'll kill him. Don't think I won't." Ross said calmly as if he was discussing the weather instead of executing his kid.

Mike grabbed a handful of Peter's hair to hold his head still as he twisted the barrel of the gun harshly against his temple. Peter winced. Oh god oh god. If the guy's finger so much as slipped, Peter would be gone. His son would be gone.

"Stop!" He yelled, cold terror washing over him. "Please! Please just stop. I'll do-I'll do anything you want. Whatever you want. Just stop! Stop pointing the gun at him. Please!"

Another eternity of a second passed before Ross must've given some signal and the man finally dropped the gun and gave Peter's head a rough shove as he released his hair.

"I told you you'd be begging me by the end." Ross said with a sick sense of satisfaction.

Tony wanted nothing more than to curse him, threaten him, promise to kill him, but he couldn't, not when the risk of his words was getting a gun held to his kid's head. Since he couldn't see Ross, he settled for glaring at his lackey in silence. That guy was dead too.

"So should I take this to mean you're actually going to deliver now?" Ross taunted.

"Yes." Tony grit out. And he would. If he had to.

"Good." Ross said happily. "But just in case you start getting any more smart ideas about defying me…"

Before Tony even had a chance to blink, Mike's hand with the gun jerked and a shot rang out as he emptied a bullet into Peter's right upper leg.

"No!" Tony cried out in horror.

Peter obviously hadn't been expecting it. He let out a surprised grunt and doubled over as far as he could while tied up in the chair.

"That's got to hurt." Ross said with fake sympathy.

"Peter!" Tony yelled, but his son stayed doubled over.

Mike grabbed Peter's hair and yanked him back up to a sitting position. Tony could see his face was scrunched in pain but he didn't make any other noise.

"He's a tough kid Stark. I'll give you that." Ross said, obviously impressed by Peter's attempted stoicism.

Mike scowled, not happy with the lack of response, so he kicked out, roughly jostling Peter's injured leg.

Peter couldn't hold back a cry of pain at that. No one reasonably could, but hearing it come from his son sent a dagger to his heart.

Mike nudged Peter's injured leg with his foot over and over again, making Peter shout in pain.

"Stop! Stop it!" Tony yelled. "Stop hurting him!"

Even though all the sounds were partially muffled by the gag, Tony caught the exact moment Peter's cries of pain turned into actual crying. Apparently so could Ross.

"There we go." Ross said with approval. "There are some tears for dad."

"I'm going to fucking kill you. I swear to god." Tony threatened, too angry to hold himself back.

Mike gave Peter's leg another kick at the threat, harder than all the rest, and Peter cried out in agony.

"Now now Tony. I wouldn't be threatening me if I were you. I'd hate for something worse to happen to young Peter here." Ross chastised. "It looks like this time it missed his kneecap, but he might not be so lucky next time. I'm not sure if even Spiderman could heal from that. I'd hate for a child filled with such potential to have to live out the rest of his life as a cripple. Or to not live out the rest of his life at all..."

Tony clenched his jaw so tight he thought his teeth might crack.

"Let's just say it'd behoove you to get my changes signed like I asked." Ross said. "You have until eight AM tomorrow morning. Tick tock Stark."

The projection of Peter went blank as Ross hung up.

Tony stood half gaping in shock with his eyes burning. He couldn't quite believe what he'd just witnessed.

"All right so we give in to Ross's demands." Clint said quietly, his own anger and fear apparent. "We're not risking Peter's life."

"I'll call Senator Matthews." Tony mumbled and noticed that fine tremors ran through the hand that held his phone.

"Wait." Nat ordered suddenly, then as she thought to herself, she whispered again, "Wait."

"What? You have an idea?" Cap asked with hope.

Nat frowned. "We've been going about this all wrong."

"No shit. In case you missed it pipsqueak just got shot." Sam said.

"I mean we've been going after Ross, but he's too good at covering his tracks. But now that we know that Bauer guy's there too, maybe we can use him to figure out where they are. Maybe he slipped up somewhere." Nat explained.

Tony considered it for a moment. That could actually work.

"FRIDAY pull up everything you can on Michael Bauer." Tony ordered. "I want work records, credit card statements, the works."

"Yes boss."

"Ok, but if we don't have a location in the next two hours, we're calling the Senator." Steve said.

"Agreed." Tony nodded. He'd prefer to rescue Peter, but if that wasn't an option, he'd do what Ross wanted. He wouldn't risk his son any more than he already had.

An hour later, Tony blinked in surprise at the screen where FRIDAY displayed a blinking dot, the location of Michael Bauer's cell phone and presumably the man as well. And Peter.

Tony had found a phone bill on one of Bauer's credit card statements so he'd broken into the phone company's database to find the man's number and then he'd very illegally tracked it. The idiot hadn't changed his location privacy settings, and he'd placed a call within the past couple hours, so it'd been a piece of cake to pinpoint his exact location.

Tony couldn't believe it had actually worked.

"Son of a bitch." He said to himself, then announced to the room, "I got him."

"Where?" Steve asked as he came over to his side.

"They're close. Just northwest of here." Tony answered. The rest of the Avengers gathered near him, some peering over his shoulder at the location on the screen.

"Jesus they're practically in our backyard." Clint said once he saw the location.

Tony pursed his lips. That was a slight exaggeration but the proximity of the location surprised Tony as well. They weren't a short drive away, but they were still in New York. Tony had expected Ross to have fled the country, or at the very least the state, with Peter.

Apparently Ross had copied the Avengers with his own secret hideaway in upstate New York. Tony wondered how he'd funded it, because he hadn't found any evidence of a real estate purchase by Ross in that location, or any allocation of government funding for it under Ross's name.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go get our kid." Nat said, and that's all it took to kick them into gear.

"Everyone suit up. Wheels up in five." Steve announced.

"I'll prep the Quinjet." Clint said before sprinting out of the room. The rest of the team filed out of the room after him, with Tony and Steve the last two out.

Anxiety settled deep in Tony's gut. So much could still go wrong.

"Should we really do this?" He asked Steve quietly, almost breathlessly with fear.

Steve stopped up short at the question and turned to face him. Tony stopped as well but watched as the rest of the team turned the corner in the hallway and disappeared.

Steve stepped in front of him and gripped his shoulder in silent support.

Tony glanced up and saw only concern and confusion on Steve's face.

"I mean, is this too much of a risk? This is Peter we're talking about, and they've already hurt him. Would it be the safer call to just do what Ross wants?"

Instead of getting defensive, Steve's brow furrowed as he carefully considered Tony's question.

"If that's what you want to do, I'll support you. And I'm sure the rest of the team will too. But Tony, even if we do what Ross is asking, that doesn't mean he'll just give Peter back to us. We'd be trusting him to keep his word, and that's a gamble that's out of our control."

Tony sighed and shook his head in consternation. "You're right. Of course you're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You're just scared." Steve said with another squeeze of his shoulder. "It's Peter."

"Yeah." He agreed quietly.

"Listen, if you need to sit this one out—" Steve offered gently.

"No." He protested vehemently, suddenly worried Cap would try to bench him.

"Are you sure? Because no one would fault you for—"

"No." He interrupted again. "Like you said, this is Peter. There's no way I'm going to stand by twiddling my thumbs while I wait for you guys to get him. He's my kid. I'm going to be the first one in."

"Ok." Steve smiled. "Then let's go get him."

"After you Cap." Tony held his hand out. Steve didn't hesitate and started walking briskly to the Quinjet. Tony followed right behind. They were going to get his son back. They were the Avengers. They wouldn't screw this up. They couldn't. Tony refused to entertain any alternate possibility. Peter would be back sleeping safely under the same roof as him tonight.

Peter grimaced and tried to hold as perfectly still as possible. Even breathing seemed to exacerbate the fire emanating from his right leg, so he tried to pant as shallowly as possible. He bit his lip when his thigh gave another sharp throb.

God, getting shot sucked. He thought he'd experienced pain before, and he had, but nothing held a candle to this. When Mike had shot him, it'd felt like he'd had a white hot poker stabbed through his leg. He guessed that made a twisted sort of sense since that was kind of what the bullet had done.

And he'd tried to be strong. He hadn't wanted to make Tony worry or look weak in front of him, and he'd almost managed it. But then that stupid Mike asshole had kept kicking his leg and it'd felt like he was getting stabbed over and over again with fire. He hadn't been able to keep in the cries of pain.

At least Mike had stopped kicking him once Ross had hung up on his dad, but it'd taken him a long time to finally get a handle on the pain again. By then, both men had gone and they hadn't come back. At least they'd had the decency to pull the gag back off at some point.

He scrunched his eyes closed when his leg pulsed again in pain. After a few short breaths, he opened them again and looked down at his injury. He couldn't see much besides the blood soaking his pants around the small hole in them. At least his leg was still there even though it kind of felt like part of it had been blown off.

His thoughts drifted to his dad and he wondered if this was the kind of pain he'd felt when he'd gotten struck in the chest with all that shrapnel in Afghanistan. He hoped not. Peter only had one hole in him, or maybe two if the bullet had gone all the way through, but he couldn't even imagine how much more it would hurt if there were several and they were in his chest.

Thoughts of his dad just brought tears to his eyes again. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home. He wanted the pain to stop. He really really wanted his dad.

A lesson from Nat popped into his mind. A couple months ago, she'd tried to teach him imagery techniques to deal with what she'd referred to as physical discomfort, which was a synonym for insanely terrible pain for anyone else. He decided it couldn't hurt to try.

He closed his eyes again and tried to imagine he was back in the Tower and hanging out with his dad and the rest of the team. Tried to pretend he was sitting on the couch, well fed and pain free. He envisioned he was tucked against Tony's side, warm and safe, the complete opposite of his current reality.

The distraction technique seemed to have worked because eventually he must've fallen asleep, or passed out, since his eyes were now blinking blearily back open again. What had woken him up? His leg still throbbed mercilessly but it didn't seem any worse than before. If anything, it seemed a little better. Less present. Or maybe he was the one that felt less present. Disconnected somehow.

He frowned as the world spun slowly around him. Just how long had he been out? His head ached and he was so incredibly thirsty. He couldn't remember ever wanting a glass of water as badly as he did right now.

He accidentally twitched in his seat and his leg gave an angry throb in protest. His attention was automatically drawn down to it. Oh shit. That was a lot of blood. His entire upper leg and lap of his jeans were saturated with blood. He shifted uncomfortably. It kind of felt like he'd wet his pants.

He stared blankly at it for several long seconds, unable to quite believe it. It was an alarming amount of blood. His blood. Was it too much? Was he bleeding out? He should…do something. Like put pressure on it or something.

He moved to do exactly that but his hands stayed stuck behind him in cuffs. Oh yeah. That's right. Even if he wanted to, there was no way he could actually stem the bleeding with the way he was tied up. How had he forgotten that? He vaguely recognized he wasn't quite with it. His thoughts were moving in a slow muddled fashion. Probably the blood loss. Oh god, was he dying?

A muffled bang momentarily redirected his attention away from his own mortality. Now that he thought about it, the sound seemed oddly familiar. He realized it was what had woken him up initially. He concentrated on listening and he could hear softer pops and thuds and then another bang, this one sounding slightly closer. What was that?

He didn't get a chance to ponder it further because Mike and Ross burst into the room, the latter looking angry and harried, as they made their way over to him.

"Take him out the back tunnel." Ross ordered. "There's a helicopter concealed in the brush there. We'll rendezvous at the safe house."

"What about you?" Mike asked.

"I have to take care of this little problem first." Ross said.

"Little. Sure." Mike mumbled skeptically.

"Shut up." Ross growled and he leaned down to uncuff Peter's feet and then tossed the key to Mike who pocketed it.

Peter blinked but by the time it'd registered that his legs were free, Ross was standing too far away to kick at and Mike was hauling him up by his shoulder onto his feet. Oh god. Ow ow ow. No. There was no way he could walk. His head spun violently and dark spots gathered at the edge of his vision, but somehow he managed to keep a grip on consciousness.

"Walk." Mike ordered and gave him a little shove forward.

He tried to say no, to explain he couldn't but all that came out was, "Nngh."

"Walk you little freak." Mike ordered again and a second later Peter felt the familiar cool metal of a gun at his temple. "Unless you want a bullet in your head. Walk."

The man seemed serious and Peter didn't feel up to calling his bluff, so he took a small shuffling step forward. And then another. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet even though it felt like his leg was actually on fire now.

He couldn't prevent the small whimpers of pain that escaped him anymore than he could keep the blood from trickling out down his thigh to the floor. His leg gave out and he almost fell but Mike had a tight enough hold on him that he kept him upright with a grunt of effort.

"You want me to get him all the way out by myself? He can barely walk." Mike complained.

"Whose fault is that?" Ross didn't seem sympathetic to his lackey's strife.

"Yours." Mike said gruffly, adjusting so he had a better hold on Peter, but still keeping the gun uncomfortably close to his skull. "You're the one that told me to shoot him."

Ross glared at the man.

"I'm just saying it'd be great if I could have a little help." Mike grumbled.

"I think you can manage." Ross said.

Peter caught Mike rolling his eyes.

"Now get him out of here and try not to let too many of my people see him. Plausible deniability and all that." Ross commanded.

"Yeah yeah." Mike sighed. "And what are you going to be doing again?"

They'd finally made it to the door. Peter's world was so consumed by pain and lightheadedness that he barely knew his own name, let alone had the ability to fight to get away from a man holding a gun to his head.

"I have a plan. It should be enough to take care of the Avengers. Or at least buy us enough time." Ross said.

The Avengers? The increasingly louder thuds and booms suddenly made a sick sort of sense. The Avengers were here. They'd come for him. His dad had come for him.

"Good luck with that." Mike said, sarcasm apparent. "And what am I supposed to do with him if you don't make it out and I end up stuck with him?"

"Eliminate him." Ross answered quickly and mercilessly.

Peter's breath got caught in his throat.

"Whatever you say boss." Mike shrugged and then they were out the door and in the hallway.

A/N: Oh my god guys the response to the last chapter was so humbling! You are all amazing to me for taking the time out of your day to read and comment. I really hope I can live up to all of it and you continue to enjoy the story until the end. Sorry about the cliffhanger! I wish I could say there won't be any more from here on out, but that'd be a lie. Let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Also, I've gotten a few questions about pairings for Tony and I just wanted to let you know that I don't have any intention of giving him a romantic interest in this series because I'd rather keep the stories focused on Tony and Peter's relationship. And also, I know everyone has their preference and I don't want to disappoint anyone who's been following along with these stories for so long by pairing Tony with someone they don't like.