"Peter? Hey, are you even listening to me?"

The hard jab of Ned's index finger poking into Peter's arm made him jump, and he reluctantly returned to reality to find Ned holding a potato chip and glaring at him over his lunch tray.

"Ow!" he said, rubbing at his arm. "What the hell, Ned?"

"You're asking me what the hell? I've only been talking to you for like the last ten minutes and you've barely even acknowledged my existence," Ned said, popping the chip into his mouth. "It's like you're always in space or something lately, what's going on?"

"Yeah, well, I've just had a lot on my mind, okay?" Peter snapped. "In case you hadn't noticed, the liberty of my entire family was kinda at stake until only a couple days ago."

Ned gave a nod, his face relaxing into a more sympathetic look. "Yeah, okay, but why the hell didn't you say anything to me about it? I had to hear about it from my mom, don't you know how embarrassing that is?"

Peter dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head. "I didn't really want to talk about it, Ned. Dad and Papa were already so stressed out, and… I don't know, I just didn't feel like being constantly reminded, ya know?" He didn't add that he'd been so continuously exhausted lately that even the thought of the whole registration act thing was enough to almost make him cry, not to mention the stress of his upcoming experiment with the MAUDE glasses. He was far too old to be bursting into tears at school, of all places.

"Mmm, I s'pose," said Ned. "I just… I thought we were best friends, but now you're telling Gwen stuff that you don't tell me, and spending almost all of your extra time with her, and—"

"Oh, and like you haven't been spending most of your free time with Betty lately?" Peter shot back. "You're with her every day after school!"

"Yeah, well, that's different," Ned insisted as he ate another chip. "You and I don't usually hang out once practise is done, so—"

"Yeah, whatever Ned," Peter said, purposefully squaring his shoulders as he took a sip of his milk. He had been sparring with Uncle Thor quite a bit lately, and one of the tips Uncle Thor had shared was to try and keep his shoulders as straight as possible, so as to not put too much strain on his mid-back muscles during hand-to-hand combat.

And while Peter didn't really think he'd be engaging in any hand-to-hand combat anytime soon, especially since he considered himself more of a flyer like Dad instead of a foot soldier like Papa, he had noticed a definite decrease in his headaches since he'd started paying attention to his shoulder positioning, so it hadn't just been empty advice.

That plus the fact that lately it seemed like Uncle Thor was the only member of Peter's family who even remembered how strong he was, and let him use his strength, made him even more likely to want to listen to him. Uncle Thor never seemed to go out of his way to baby him, which Peter really, really appreciated.

"I'm just saying. Just 'cause were both in relationships now doesn't mean that we can't still hang out," Ned continued. "I mean, we could even go on a double-date sometime, I'm sure Betty and Gwen wouldn't mind."

"No, probably not," Peter muttered, rubbing at his eyes. He'd been awake for over four hours the previous night working on more of the HYDRA files, and his eyes were already starting to lose their focus.

"Your eyes bothering you again?" asked Ned as he started peeling an orange. "I've noticed you've been wearing your glasses a lot more often lately."

Peter nodded as he picked up his own orange, taking care not to crush it as he attempted to peel it. He had grown another two centimetres since the trip to Italy, and had already managed to rip yet another backpack zipper and another two pairs of shoelaces. Both Papa and Uncle Bucky had been arm-wrestling with him in the evenings to help him learn to control his strength better, but he was getting to the point where he could beat them so easily now that he wasn't sure it was actually doing him any good anymore.

But, since Papa and Dad still refused to let him start training with the team again, the arm-wrestling and his sparring sessions with Uncle Thor were all that he had.

Hmph.

"So, is your entire family going to be coming to the Decathlon finals?" asked Ned. "My mom's already been bragging to her book club about getting to stay in the Stark Industries building."

"Yeah, so far that's the current plan." Peter knew Uncle Thor and Uncle Bucky were looking forward to the trip, as long as Uncle Thor's brother didn't cause any more trouble in the meantime. He'd been having to return to Asgard almost every week lately to take care of something or other regarding Loki, which was pretty amazing considering that Loki was still imprisoned for his role in the Chitauri invasion.

As Uncle Thor put it, only Loki could cause so much trouble from a prison cell, but Peter also secretly wondered if Loki didn't just miss Uncle Thor from time to time, and therefore was making up problems just so he would come back to see him.

The god of mischief, indeed.

"You know Mr Harrington's gonna be gushing all over your dads once we get there," Ned said as he finished his milk, crushing the carton in his hand. "I kinda feel bad for them."

"Yeah," Peter said around a mouthful of orange. "I tried to warn them about it, but Dad knows Mr Harrington so he's pretty much used to him, and Papa's too polite to be mean to anyone, so it should be okay."

"That's true, your papa is pretty nice. Must be those old-fashioned manners." Ned rolled his eyes, leaning closer. "I think my mom has kind of a crush on him. She's always talking about how good he looks in his uniform and stuff."

"Mmm. Well, I doubt she's the only one," Peter said with a smirk. "You should've seen this bunch of girls that were following us around at the department store this past weekend. They got so bad that Papa finally had to ask them to leave us alone so I could try on some new jeans." Peter frowned at the memory, of the gaggle of girls oohing and aahing over his papa, and then giggling behind their hands as they tried to pretend like they weren't following them.

And he could only imagine how many pictures and videos they had posted on all the social media sites.

At least Uncle Thor hadn't been with them. The one time Peter and Papa had tried to take him to the grocery store on a Saturday had almost caused a riot in the meat department, so ever since then Uncle Thor had relied mainly on delivery for his food supply, with the occasional dinner or three with them in the penthouse.

"Oh, yeah?" Ned said. "That must've been weird."

"Yeah, you could say that," said Peter, although it was more so for Papa than himself. Having grown up with a pretty famous man for a father, Peter was a lot more used to the spotlight than Papa was, even after all the attention the Avengers had gained since the Battle of New York.

That still didn't mean that Peter wanted an audience when he was trying on pants, though.

"Well, anyway. You think maybe we could double-date to the dance?" asked Ned. "Since Betty's in charge of a lot of it she's not gonna be able to hang out with me as much while we're there, so I was thinking—"

"Yeah, probably," Peter cut in. "Let me double-check with Gwen first, okay? Hopefully she'll be back at school tomorrow." Gwen's little brothers had been passing a respiratory bug back and forth for about the last month or so, and she had finally succumbed to it the day before. Peter had asked JARVIS to send some chicken soup and a bouquet of tulips to her house before he'd left for school that morning, and he could still feel the flush on his neck from the thank-you text she'd sent him once they'd arrived.

"Yeah, sure."

The bell rang then, indicating the end of the lunch period. Peter quickly shoved the rest of his orange slices into his mouth as he gathered up his backpack and tray and followed Ned out of the lunchroom, heading towards their History class.

"You know, I just realised something," Ned said once they'd taken their seats. "Gwen's out sick today, but except for those few days that you were out after Liz's party you haven't been sick hardly at all this year, and you've always been the first to catch whatever it is that's going around. It's almost like Captain Rogers passed on his super-immunity to you somehow."

Peter gulped as he opened his laptop, ducking down behind it. "Yeah, well, Papa tries to keep us all pretty healthy, so…"

And I never really had mono, that was just the excuse that Dad came up with.

He was saved from having to think of something else by the arrival of their teacher, and proceeded to spend the next fifty minutes putting the final touches on the latest design for his web shooters. He had also recently come up with yet another Spider-Man suit design, wanting to be as prepared as possible for when Dad and Papa finally agreed to let him start training again.

Which, now that the registration act had been killed, he was hoping would be sooner rather than later. He had noticed that Dad had already started work on a new set of uniforms for the entire team, including Uncle James, as well as discussing with Pepper about possibly taking legal action against Quentin Beck for the theft of Stark Industries property.

Unfortunately, Dad still needed to find some hard proof that Beck did actually steal from Stark Industries. They had Beck on record as saying that he'd had more of the CTX-616 manufactured, but since he was still a Stark Industries employee at the time it didn't count as proof that he had stolen it, so Peter was hoping that he would find something about it hidden inside the HYDRA files.

So far, based on what Peter had already found, HYDRA had apparently been trying to use the CTX-616 to convert ordinary people into a controlled, enhanced army, a process that coincided with the arrival of Aldrich Killian. Killian had taken the drug and altered it into the form that had given him his super strength and pyrokinetic abilities, but didn't affect his memory like the CTX-616.

But, according to what Peter understood from the files, the HYDRA scientist Doctor List was still working with the CTX-616 form, which meant that he was basically trying to replicate Killian's super-soldier experiments while still retaining the memory-wiping effects.

Basically, what HYDRA and the Winter Soldiers had been trying to do to Peter down in the Miami bunker.

And ever since then they've been trying to get him back, either to figure out where they went wrong, or use him to perfect their conversion process.

Or probably a bit of both.

And in the meantime this Doctor List person was still conducting his experiments, and no one had any idea where he was or how many other people he had managed to hurt in the process.

And, now there were two other people out there like Peter. A pair of siblings who had been found to be genetically enhanced from birth, and so far the only people to have survived Doctor List's experiments.

But they're not gonna get me again, Peter thought. I won't let them.

Peter was so lost in his morbid thoughts that he completely forgot about watching the clock, nearly jumping out of his skin when the bell rang to end the period. He packed up his computer and books with shaking hands, kicking himself for not paying closer attention.

As Papa liked to say sometimes, he needed to get his head out of the clouds and be aware of his surroundings.

He managed to make it through the rest of his classes and Decathlon practise without further incident, although it took nearly every ounce of his strength to avoid launching his pen at Mr Harrington when he tried to give the team a pep talk towards the end. Peter was so used to his papa's amazing and inspiring pep talks that while he was sure Mr Harrington meant well, there was just no way that he could compare when all he could talk about were students puking before the competition.

To Peter's surprise, he found Uncle Sam and Auntie Nat waiting for him in the parking lot instead of his dads, his stomach dropping at the grim looks on their faces.

What's going on now?

"Your dads are both fine, kiddo," Uncle Sam said as soon as Peter climbed into the backseat, before he could even open his mouth. "They and the rest of the team just had to make an emergency trip up to the Compound, so Nat and I are gonna be in charge of keeping you alive for the evening, okay?"

"Okay, but what happened?" Peter asked. "What's the emergency?"

"Tony got word that one of the defence drones fired about fifteen minutes before they were gonna leave to come pick you up, милая ошибка," said Auntie Nat. "And since JARVIS couldn't give them a concrete explanation of what the drone tried to fire at, Steve decided that they should go and check it out in person."

Peter's deep frown was tempered only by Natasha's use of his special nickname, one that had caused Uncle Bucky's eyebrows to shoot up in shock the first time he'd heard Auntie Nat say it. Милая ошибка meant 'sweet little bug' in Russian, but apparently it also meant 'sweet mistake', which Uncle Bucky hadn't thought was very nice until Auntie Nat explained that that was just one of the weird intricacies about the Russian language.

"Okay, but what do you mean JARVIS couldn't tell them what the drone fired at? Didn't the video archive show anything?"

"Nothing 'cept a giant blur," answered Uncle Sam. "Almost looked like a sharp gust of wind if you ask me."

"Except that it only triggered one of the drones," said Auntie Nat. "Which means that whatever it was—"

"Would've had to have been moving pretty damn fast to be unseeable, especially by JARVIS," Uncle Sam cut in. "And as far as we know, no human can move that fast."

Peter's heart leapt into his throat. "That we know of," he repeated. "But what if—"

"Hey," Auntie Nat said soothingly, reaching back to pat Peter's knee. "It's gonna be okay. Like Sam said, it was probably just a strong gust of wind or something, and you know your papa just likes to be cautious. And thorough, especially since the septre's still being stored up there. He said they're just gonna do some quick investigating, maybe ask some of the SHIELD people if they saw anything, and then be back sometime tomorrow."

Peter gave a reluctant nod, his mind swirling with various theories. "Yeah, I know Papa likes to be thorough. No one got hurt though, right?"

"Nah, no one got hurt," said Uncle Sam. "Might've scared the hell outta some birds, but no one got hurt."

"Okay. That's good."

The three of them ended up cooking breakfast for dinner at the request of Auntie Nat, who made some of the best French toast that Peter had ever eaten in his life, and then even made him a cup of hot chocolate afterwards while he was working on his homework. It wasn't as good as Papa's hot chocolate, but it still tasted good.

And she even kissed his forehead when she tucked him in, just like Dad and Papa always did. Like Peter had told Ned, anyone who thought Natasha Romanoff was just a heartless, cold-blooded former KGB assassin didn't know the real her at all. She didn't let many people see her softer side, but to Peter she was the most sweet and loving woman he had ever met.

Peter had just pulled out his two laptops to start working on the HYDRA files when JARVIS announced that his dads were on the line. He quickly hid the computers under his blankets, running a nervous hand through his hair as he grabbed his tablet.

"Hey, buddy!" Dad said from the screen, with Papa sitting next to him in what looked like Dad's lab in their Compound apartment. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but what about you guys?" Peter said. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing that you need to be worried about, Peter," Papa said, way too fast. "Dad and I are just checking up on a few things, okay? We should be back tomorrow in time to pick you up from school."

Peter internally rolled his eyes. "Mmm, okay. But Uncle Sam said that one of the drones fired, so—"

"And so far we can't figure out why, Pete," Dad said firmly. "Which means it was probably just a glitch."

"Or a warning shot," Peter muttered, catching himself when Papa gave him a frown. "Nevermind. You sure you'll be home tomorrow though?"

Papa and Dad both looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows in their silly silent communication thingy that both intrigued and annoyed Peter.

"If not tomorrow then definitely the next day, okay little guy?" Papa finally said. "We just want to make sure that Dad and Uncle Bruce have enough time to figure out where the glitch came from."

And meanwhile, Uncle Clint's probably perched up on the roof, watching for more "glitches".

"Yeah, okay." Peter dropped his gaze to his lap, fiddling with the blanket. "I miss you guys."

"We miss you too, bud, and we'll keep ya updated no matter what," said Dad. "Get some sleep now, yeah? You look tired."

Well, Dad wasn't wrong about that. "Uh huh."

"We love you, Peter," added Papa. "Sleep well."

"Uh huh. Love you too."

As soon as his tablet went blank Peter flopped back onto the bed, frustrated. It annoyed him so damn much that his dads still thought he was too young to know what was going on, especially since Uncle Sam had already told him that the drone had attempted to fire at something, so it wasn't just a glitch.

Something faster than a sharp gust of wind, apparently.

Frowning, Peter pulled out his computers, setting them up in front of him with his tablet at the ready. No sense in wasting the opportunity to work on the files before the wee hours of the morning.

Maybe I'll even be able to get more than three hours of sleep tonight, Peter thought, tucking his polar bear under his chin. That'll be a first.

The first two files he downloaded turned out to be more supply lists, with his frustration almost boiling over into rage when the third ended up being yet another page of the HYDRA manifesto. Against his better judgement, Peter decided to read it anyway, the knot that had been sitting down in the pit of his stomach ever since he'd gone to bed growing larger and heavier with each passing sentence.

"Complete infiltration of all major aspects of the United States power structure, as well as other major world powers, is imperative to overall success. Only then will there be enough fear sown to ensure complete world domination. Man will always fear what he does not understand."

"Well, that's definitely the truth," Peter muttered. "Not like it's been driving Papa bonkers lately or anything."

As soon as the words left Peter's mouth a massive wave of guilt washed over him, one so strong that it nearly knocked him sideways. Here he was, sneaking around behind his dads' backs, getting involved in the very thing they didn't want him involved in. They had been keeping all of this stuff from him the whole time because they were trying to protect him, and now Peter was basically spitting right in the face of their fear.

But it's only because I'm trying to help them, Peter thought. It's not like I'm just trying to be a brat or something.

With a heavy sigh, Peter archived the file and selected the next, promising himself that this would the the last one he'd do for the night.

"I'm only trying to help them," Peter said again, hoping it would chase at least some of the guilt away. "They need all the help they can get."

The next file was long, so long that Peter's fingers were practically frozen solid by the time he'd finished typing it out. He rubbed at his throbbing temples, sliding his glasses as he started to read.

"While CTX-616 has shown to produce adequate mind-control and loss of memory, it has yet to produce an enhanced individual of sufficient quality for our needs. With only two successful experimental subjects, we must begin to look elsewhere for a means of conversion."

"Elsewhere for a means of conversion," Peter murmured, swiping his hand across his freezing cold nose. "So that has to mean that they never got their hands on more of the Aminacin." Dad had told Peter that Director Fury had confiscated and destroyed Killian's entire supply of the drug when the Miami bunker was raided, and while Peter knew that Director Fury often said one thing and did another, maybe this was evidence that he did actually destroy the stuff.

And good for him, since the Aminacin had caused most of the people who took it to explode, and almost ended up killing Dad.

"Look elsewhere for a means of conversion," Peter repeated, twice more as he tried to force his tired mind to keep working for just a little while longer.

Look elsewhere for a means of conversion.

Obie and Killian had tried to convert Peter into a Winter Soldier using the Aminacin, but it didn't completely work. And when they finally realised that it wasn't working, that's when they pulled out—

"The sceptre!" Peter exclaimed, immediately clapping his hand over his mouth. Neither Uncle Sam or Auntie Nat had super hearing, but it still wouldn't do him any good to push things.

"That has to be it!" Peter whispered, burying his face into his polar bear. It couldn't have been just a coincidence that someone—or something—had activated a defence drone up at the Compound, which just so happened to be the place where the sceptre was being stored.

Papa always said that he didn't believe in coincidences, and lately, neither did Peter.

HYDRA was trying to retrieve the sceptre. And they were using someone who could apparently move faster than the drones could target in order to get it.

I can't sit on this, it's too important, Peter thought miserably. I'm gonna have to tell Dad and Papa.

The only question was when? He couldn't tell them right away, not when he was scheduled to do his experiment with the MAUDE glasses in only a couple of days. This was gonna be a doozy of a confession, and he was too afraid that Dad would be so mad afterwards that he would cancel the experiment.

No, he'd have to wait until the experiment was over, and all of HYDRA's remaining influence over him was dead and gone.

I promise I'll tell them once it's over, he thought as he gathered up his equipment and shut off the lights. I promise.

And maybe, if he was lucky, his dads would be so impressed by what he had found that they wouldn't be as mad at him for disobeying.

It was a long shot, but at the moment it was all he had.

"Are you sure that you're comfortable, little guy?" Steve asked as Bruce finished attaching the various leads to Peter's head and chest that would allow him to monitor his vital signs from the anteroom. "We can get you another heating pad, or another blanket, or—"

"I'm fine, Papa. It's hopefully not gonna take that long anyway," Peter said, only a bit impatiently. Steve could tell that he was nervous, with his bouncing legs and his long fingers pleating and unpleating the blankets, and also that he was otherwise trying really hard to hide it.

He is so much like Tony.

"Well, we don't necessarily know how long it's gonna take," said Steve. "But if you're sure—"

"I'm sure, Papa. I'm just ready to get this over with."

Steve curled his arm around Peter's shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of his head as Tony came into the panic room and sat down on Peter's opposite side, his tired eyes radiating his own nervousness. He had been up for most of the night, checking and double-checking and calibrating and adjusting everything at least a thousand times, trying to make sure that he had thought of every single possible permutation. Steve had attempted to go to bed without him, still wiped out from their whirlwind trip up to the Compound, but after tossing and turning for over three hours he had just given up and made some food for them instead, finally convincing Tony to rest with him on the couch for an hour or so before Peter woke up.

They had also talked a bit about what they might see in Peter's memory. While Steve knew that Peter didn't remember all that much from the Miami bunker battle—which was fine with him since he had enough horrible memories for all three of them—this experiment was most likely going to cause a big resurgence of traumatic images, and not only for Peter, since both he and Tony were almost certain that Obadiah was going to show up at some point.

And if he did, well, it was likely going to be one of the strongest tests of Steve's will that he had ever had in his life. Even now as he sat next to his son, trying to project an image of calmness and support, Steve could already feel his blood start to boil at the thought of laying eyes on even a holographic version of Obadiah Stane, the only man that Steve could say with absolute certainty that he hated more than Johann Schmidt.

And he knew it would be even worse for Tony and Peter because of Stane's betrayal. Sam was definitely going to have his work cut out for him once the experiment was over.

"I think we're pretty much set out there, buddy," Tony said as Sam and Bucky entered the room, taking their seats against the back wall. He held out the MAUDE glasses, which Peter took with a trembling hand. "You still good with all this?"

"I'd be a lot better if everyone would stop asking me if I'm okay," Peter answered as he slid on the glasses. They were a bit too big for him, which Steve thought was adorable despite himself. Peter looked like a child playing with his father's glasses, which, from what Tony had told him, had been a pretty common occurrence when Peter was little. Something about how a two-year-old Peter thought it was really funny to put on his daddy's glasses when Tony was trying to work, and then refuse to give them back.

"Mine!" Peter would say. "Petey cute!"

Because of course he was.

Tony shot Steve a look, one that Steve had taken to calling his ugh look.

"All right, buddy," Tony said, ruffling Peter's hair. "Then just sit back and try to relax, I'm sure Uncle Bruce'll be ready soon."

Peter nodded, leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes. Through the windows, Steve could see Bruce inputting his final settings and commands, with Natasha and Clint standing off to the side in the anteroom. His heart swelled a bit at the fact that almost their entire family had insisted on being there to support Peter. James hadn't been able to get away from D.C. and Thor had been called away the day before for yet another issue with his brother, but even they had both taken the time to get in touch with Peter to wish him luck.

They all loved him, and Steve knew that not a single one of them would hesitate to take care of both he and Tony if it ever became necessary.

Because while the Superhero Registration Act may have been defeated, Steve knew that there was no way HYDRA was just going to roll over and die. There would be something else, some new loophole or regulation, and if the incident up at the Compound was any indication, it would be happening sooner rather than later.

Steve inhaled a deep, shaky breath, pressing another kiss to Peter's head as he tried to purge the murky thoughts from his mind. He and Tony's second wedding anniversary had been a few days ago, and as long as Peter's experiment went okay they were planning on going out for a nice dinner the following weekend, some new place that had been supposedly booked up for weeks, but still managed to find a table when Tony Stark called for a reservation.

Just another example of how much the public seemed to love the Avengers. Or Tony, at least.

"Okay, guys, I think we're all set out here," Bruce suddenly said over the intercom. "Peter, we can start whenever you're ready."

Peter's pale cheeks blanched even whiter as he gulped, giving Bruce a quick nod.

"Uh huh," he said quietly. "I'm—I'm good to go."

Tony's ugh look grew even more pronounced. "Pete, we don't have to—"

"No!" Peter snapped, crossing his arms. "I'm ready now, so let's do this!"

Tony pursed his lips, glancing at Steve over Peter's head. "All right, big guy, go ahead and activate the interface."

Steve's heart gave a lurch as the shiny blue light flickered across the lenses of the glasses, with Peter's eyes going wide a second later.

"It's all right, Pete, that's just the interface connection," Tony said, his voice low and tight like it usually was when he was upset or scared. He reached for Peter's hand, squeezing it gently. "Just try and relax, okay?"

"Uh huh." Peter breathed in, letting it out slowly. "I'm ready, Uncle Sam. You can start now."

"All right, kiddo," Sam said as he got to his feet. He stepped up next to the bed, placing a reassuring hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Longing," Sam said, clear and even. Steve flinched as Peter's limbs immediately went rigid, fear evident in his huge brown eyes.

"It's all right, little guy," he said. "We're right here."

"Rusted," Sam continued at Steve's nod. "Furnace—"

"No," Peter said softly, swallowing hard. "They can't… I'm not gonna. I'm not gonna let them have me."

"It's okay bud, Papa and I are right here," said Tony. "Just keep breathing, we're not gonna leave you."

"Daybreak."

Peter shook his head, clapping his free hand over his ear. "No, no, no. They can't have me, Daddy, they can't. I'm not gonna let them!"

"That's 'cause you're stronger than they are, bud," Tony murmured. "You're way stronger than any of those assholes."

"Dad's right, little guy," said Steve. "You're so strong, there's no way they can get you."

Peter's jaw tightened and he breathed in, giving Steve a single nod.

"Uh huh."

"That's our boy," Steve said proudly. "Sam, keep going."

"Copy that," Sam said. "Seventeen—"

The word had barely passed through Sam's lips when the MAUDE glasses activated, and four burly men and one tall, muscular woman suddenly appeared on the opposite side of the room, who Steve recognised as the other five Winter Soldiers. They were all crowded around a dark grey table outfitted with heavy metal restraints, chanting various words in what Steve assumed to be Russian while an IV bag attached to a pole on one of the table's upper corners dispensed a bright yellow liquid into their prisoner.

"Oh my God," Steve choked out as one of the soldiers stepped back, revealing his beloved boy. The image Peter's back was arched up off the table, his arms and legs straining against the restraints and his sweet face screwed into an expression of almost unimaginable pain. Next to Steve, Peter gave a soft cry at the sight, instinctively shrinking back and squeezing Tony's hand so hard that he yelped in pain.

"Steve, I can't—he's gonna—!"

"Peter, it's okay," Steve cut in as he reached for their joined hands, peeling Peter's fingers away from Tony's and wrapping them around his own. Tony's face was ashen, his beautiful eyes glassy and tortured as they locked with Steve's.

"Steve, it's just gonna get worse!"

"I know, sweetheart, but we owe it to him to help him get through this." A knot the size of a marble rose in Steve's throat, his own eyes burning with unshed tears. "We have to see it through, Tony, we have to!"

We can't allow HYDRA to have any influence over any of us, and especially not over Peter.

Tony's eyebrows twitched, his expression vacillating between rage and anguish. "Bruce? Everything okay out there?"

"His heart rate and blood pressure are elevated like he's under stress, Tony, but neither of them are dangerous," said Bruce. "You know I'll let you know if they get too high."

"Yeah, okay," muttered Tony, flinching as Image Peter let out a brief but piercing scream, biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he drew blood.

"Daddy!" Peter shrieked as he buried his head in Tony's shoulder, his hand gripping Steve's like a vise. "They can't—they can't have me! No matter what—I won't—I'm not gonna let them!"

"No one's gonna get you, buddy," Tony said firmly as he ran his fingers through Peter's hair. "No one's gonna ever get you, not while any of us are alive."

"Dad's right, Peter," Steve whispered into Peter's ear. "Just squeeze my hand, okay? Squeeze as hard as you need to, and I promise it's gonna be all right."

Another sharp cry from the table sent a massive shiver rocketing down Steve's spine as Image Peter started thrashing from side to side, trying to break from the metal bands holding down his limbs.

"No!" screamed Image Peter. "You can't have me!"

"Sam, keep going!"

"Right," Sam said grimly. "Benign! Nine! Home—!"

"Это не работает!" one the Winter Soldiers said. "Он борется с этим!"

"He said, 'it's not working', Steve," said Natasha over the intercom. "'He is fighting it!'"

"That's 'cause he's the strongest of us," Steve said, wincing as Peter's grip on his hand tightened even further. "No one else could've resisted this. No one."

There was a short pause as the other Winter Soldiers discussed what to do, with one of them finally stepping out of sight. Steve watched him go, his heart sinking as he realised what was about to happen.

"Tony," he said, as he touched his husband's cheek. "Sweetheart, maybe you shouldn't be watching this. You don't need to—"

"There's no way in hell that I'm going anywhere, Steve," Tony snapped. "There's just no goddamn way. I'm fine."

No, you're not, Steve thought. But before he could continue Obadiah Stane suddenly appeared, walking right up to Image Peter and bending over him, examining him like he was a lab rat.

Rage flooded Steve's body so intensely at the sight of that horrible, despicable man leering over his son that he literally saw red. His belly gave a violent swoop as he gritted his teeth, trying to hold himself together as Peter let out a frightened squeak next to him, squeezing his hand so hard that Steve's knuckles popped.

"Papa—!"

"I know, little guy, and I'm gonna take care of it for you." Steve had just shifted his leg to step off the bed when he felt a cold, metal hand grip his shoulder.

"Don't, Стиви," Bucky said. "Птер needs to do it himself or it won't work. He needs to be free of it. You know that he does, and you know why."

For a moment Steve could only gape at his friend, knowing that he was absolutely right, but wishing like hell that he wasn't.

Oh God, he's right. Bucky's right, it has to be him.

Peter's mind had to alter the memory himself or the experiment would be a failure, only Steve had honestly no clue how he and Tony were going to be able to just watch their boy be tortured by the very same man who should've loved him like a grandson.

"But, Bucky, I don't—"

"You have to, Стив, and you know it," said Bucky. "For him."

The tears Steve had been trying to hold back finally spilled down his cheeks, dripping onto his lap as he looked over Peter's head at his husband. Tony's face was almost completely impassive, with only his tight jaw and a single twitching vein in his temple revealing his profound anger and betrayal at seeing his former mentor/ father figure willingly torture his son.

"Tony—"

"Don't talk to me right now, Steve," Tony snapped as he stared straight at Stane's impeccably dressed and groomed holographic image. "This isn't about me, and I'm not going anywhere."

"But it is, sweetheart, don't you see?" Steve said. "It's about both of you, and—"

"I said, no!" Tony said through clenched teeth. "Now, shut the hell up and let's get this over with!"

"Tony, Bucky's got a point," Sam said carefully. "I know Peter's your son, but you can't fight this for him. He has to do it himself or none of it will mean a damn thing."

"Listen to Эем, he knows what he's talking about," Bucky said. "Птер has to do this himself, that's the only way he'll be free of it."

"Oh God," Steve breathed. "Bucky, I don't know—I don't think I can leave him—I can't—

"You're not leaving him, Стив, you'll still be here," Bucky said, giving Steve's shoulder a light shake. "But you need to help your husband. I will help Птер."

Steve swiped at his eyes, stealing another glance at Tony who hadn't moved a single millimetre, his eyes still glaring bullets at Obadiah Stane. For however much it was hurting Steve to watch what Stane did to Peter down in that Miami bunker, he knew it had to be a million times worse for Tony. Their previous discussions notwithstanding, Steve knew that talking about it was completely different than actually reliving it, and he also suspected that Tony hadn't been quite prepared for how much pain physically laying eyes on Stane again would cause him.

And as much as it devastated him to admit, Bucky was right. Peter needed to overcome the HYDRA programming on his own, and while having to witness it was going to be one of the most heart-wrenching things he ever experienced, Steve had no doubt that Peter could it.

Right now, it was Tony who needed him.

With a single nod, Steve pressed a kiss to Peter's temple. "Peter, Dad and I are just gonna go and stand in the back of the room so Uncle Bucky can sit with you, okay? He's—it'll be better for you with him here. All right?"

Peter's sweet brown eyes briefly locked with Steve's, and he gave him a stuttered nod. "Uh—uh huh, Papa."

"That's my brave boy," Steve whispered. "You're the bravest person I've ever seen, little guy, I know you can do this."

"Uh huh."

Steve kissed Peter again, then slowly unwound Peter's fingers from his hand, flexing it a couple times once it was free and wincing at the pain shooting across his knuckles. Nothing felt broken, but given Peter's immense super-strength Steve suspected that it had been close. He got to his feet, hurrying around to the other side of the bed to find Tony still staring at Stane, completely still and unblinking, almost as though he had gone catatonic.

"Tony," he said gently as he worked his hand underneath Tony's arm, giving him a slight shake when Tony didn't respond. "Sweetheart, come with me, okay?"

"Don't fucking touch me," Tony said, so low that Steve barely heard him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"We're just going to the back of the room, mo grá," Steve pleaded as Bucky took his place next to Peter. He offered Peter his metal left hand which Peter immediately latched onto, squeezing it so tightly that his knuckles went white. "Bucky's gonna stay here with Peter."

Several heartbeats ticked by as Steve waited for Tony to move, finally giving his arm another gentle tug.

"Sweetheart, please come with me. Let me help you."

Tony slowly shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed as his lower lip started to shake. "Steve, I can't—I can't leave him. Not now. Not again. If I would've—I should've been there. I should've been able to stop this, and—and I didn't, and now—"

"Shh, mo grá, you know that's not true." He finally hefted Tony off the bed, practically carrying him to the back of the room where he gathered him into his arms. "This wasn't your fault, Tony, none of it was your fault. It was all HYDRA."

"Goddamn Obadiah," Tony spat out against Steve's chest. "I should've seen it coming, so why didn't I? There were so many signs! So many signs that I fucking missed! How in the hell could I have missed them?"

"Shh," Steve said again, weaving his fingers into Tony's hair. "Peter's stronger than both of us, sweetheart. It's why Stane was so afraid of him, and why HYDRA targeted him. But it's also the very same reason why he'll be able to get through this. And once he does, he'll be free of them forever. I know it hurts, but we have to let him do this. We have to let him show how strong he is."

Tony sniffed, giving a barely perceptible nod. "Sometimes I really hate when you're right."

A choked half-laugh worked its way from Steve's throat. "Me too, mo stór. Me too."

"Uhh, I hate to interrupt, but we really need to get going here," said Sam. "We're still only about halfway through this."

"Yeah, Sam, thanks," said Steve. He released Tony, sucking in a deep, shaky breath as he glanced down at Bucky and Peter. "Go ahead."

"Copy that," said Sam as he stepped closer to Peter, laying a hand on the headboard of the bed. "One."

Peter jumped as his image counterpart let out another brief scream, his breaths coming in stuttered gasps as he stared up at Stane.

"Это не работает," one of the Winter Soldiers said to Stane. "Он борется с этим."

"Mmm," said Stane, running his fingers along his salt and pepper goatee. "Well, then I guess we'll just have to try something a bit stronger." He stepped back, jerking his head towards the far corner of the image. "Get the sceptre."

"Oh God," Steve murmured as he reached for Tony's hand. If he and Tony's assumptions were correct, Peter's mind was going to try and put him into another coma as soon as the final word was uttered, the self-defence mechanism that he had created while he was fighting against the sceptre. But in order for him to completely destroy the programming, Peter would need to stay conscious enough to help his image counterpart fight against the sceptre.

The sceptre had been Stane's trump card in trying to convert Peter, and they had to ensure that it got played or the whole thing would be for naught.

"Sam, keep going!" Steve said. "Get all the words done before the sceptre shows up!"

Sam gave a nod, stepping up right next to Peter while Bucky leaned in, whispering something into his ear.

"Freight car!"

As soon as the final word was uttered Peter's eyes rolled back into his head and he went completely rigid on the bed, almost as though he was having a fit of some kind. Tony let out a frightened noise, taking one step towards him before Steve grabbed him around the waist, halting him.

"No, sweetheart, we can't!" he choked out, even as every single fibre of his being wanted nothing more than to rush towards his boy. "We need to let him fight this!"

Tony looked up at him, his brown eyes filled with such torturous anguish that Steve nearly broke down completely. "Steve… how?" How can we just stand here and watch him slip away again?"

"We have to do it together, okay?" Steve answered. "That's the only way we'll get through any of this."

A single tear rolled down Tony's cheek, catching on his facial hair. "Steve—"

But he was cut off by Bucky who had Peter in his arms, still whispering into his ear, his words a mix of English and Russian.

"Listen to me, Птер. You are stronger than them. You are the strongest person they have ever seen, and you can fight this! Ты сильнее их! Now, show them!"

A harsh, guttural groan sounded from Peter's chest, raising all the hair on the back of Steve's neck as Loki's sceptre was brought into the image. Peter was still conscious, but only barely.

"You can't have me!" Image Peter cried. "I'm not gonna let you!"

"Shut up, you goddamn brat!" Stane yelled as he got right into Image Peter's face. "You will comply or you will die, you got that? And once we have you, we're gonna do the same thing to every single member of that family of yours, you understand me? Every single one, starting with that asshole Captain America! And then we'll see how high and mighty you all are up there in your goddamn Tower!"

Image Peter only stared at Stane, sucking in a deep breath as he regarded him. Then he deliberately squared his jaw, turned his head, and trained his bruised and bloodshot eyes on the grey, concrete ceiling.

"Go ahead and try," he said, his voice so clear that Steve's knees nearly buckled.

He is so strong!

With a snarl, Stane stepped back, nodding at the Winter Soldier carrying the sceptre. "Give him a zap."

The entire panic room was instantly filled with a nearly blinding yellowish light as the sceptre activated, the Winter Soldier shining it directly in Image Peter's face. Steve flinched as Image Peter let out a horrible, bloodcurdling scream, his back arching up off the table.

"No, no, no, Птер, now's not the time to give up!" cried Bucky from the bed. He tucked Peter to his chest, giving his cheek a light slap to try and keep him conscious. "Stay with me, kiddo, you need to fight this!

"So tired, Uncle Bucky!" Peter said, his words slurred like he was drunk. "Just wanna sleep! Want nothing!"

"No, Птер, you can't sleep right now," Bucky pleaded. "We need you to stay awake and finish this."

But Peter only groaned, his head flopping against Bucky's chest. "So tired! Please, no more! Just wanna sleep! Wanna go into the nothing!"

"But it's not sleep, Птер, don't you see?" said Bucky. "It's like stasis, where there's nothing but a bunch of nothingness. You can't see anything, you can't hear or touch anything, and most of all you can't feel anything. And that's what they want. They want you to not feel anything because that's how they control you. You're nothing to them, just a mindless drone doing whatever they command you to do, and then when they don't need you they just stuff you away, back into the nothing."

The Winter Soldiers were still bent over Image Peter, chattering in Russian and obviously confused.

"He's still fighting it, Steve!" Natasha said from the anteroom. "None of them can believe it, they've never seen anything like it!"

"Again!" shouted Stane. "And again, and again, and again! As long as it takes!"

"No! You can't have me!" screamed Image Peter as the sceptre flashed, with Peter joining in from the bed less than a second later. Tony flinched in Steve's arms, scrabbling against his chest as Steve tried to cover his ears.

"We're almost there, Птер!" said Bucky. "Don't give up now!"

"Please, just let me go into the nothing!" Peter cried. "The nothing means no pain, no dreams! Please, I'm just so tired!"

"There may be no dreams in the nothing, Птер, but that doesn't mean they won't be waiting for you when you come back," said Bucky. "And you need to want those dreams gone! You need to chase them away so they never come back! Before I did this, my dreams were the worst that I've ever had. Images of what I was all folding in on each other. Every single person I killed flashing across my eyes like a moving picture. I see everything that I tried so hard to forget. Torture. Slaughter. And training others to do the same. So much blood, so much horror that I would wake up vomiting, but it never helped. None of it helped until I was free! And I want you to be free!"

Once again the sceptre flashed, even brighter and longer than before. Image Peter's cries of pain were getting quieter, his strength starting to falter.

It was now or never.

"Now, Птер!" Bucky exclaimed. "You need to do it now!"

A moment of eerie silence fell across the panic room, with everyone holding their collective breaths.

C'mon, little guy! You can do this!

And then Peter pushed himself up on the bed, his eyes firmly trained on his image self.

"No!" he said, loud and so clear that Steve's arms pebbled with goosebumps. "You can't have me!"

"No!" Image Peter repeated, panting for breath but just as clear. "You can't have me!"

Instantly the image shifted, the millions of pixels rearranging themselves into a picture of the main square of the Miami bunker. Fires burned in nearly all directions as the horrible sounds of the battle filled the panic room, explosions and gunshots and repulsor blasts interspersed with Hulk's terrifying roars. Steve gasped as his eyes landed on Image Peter dangling from one of the upper-level railings, his frightened face covered in dust and soot.

"Papa," Steve suddenly heard, both from Peter on the bed and inside his own mind. He immediately snapped his head back, clapping a hand over his ear.

"Papa," he heard again, his heart leaping into his throat. "Please, help me! I'm so tired!"

Somehow the experiment seemed to have caused he and Peter's empathic connection to reactivate, the same connection that had allowed him to locate Peter during the battle.

"Papa, help me!" Peter said again as he slumped against Bucky, his eyes barely open. "I'm so tired, I just wanna sleep!"

Papa, help me! I can't hold on anymore!

"Peter!" Steve shrieked as Image Peter's hands slipped slightly on the railing. He jerked back as he saw himself enter the image, looking up at Image Peter dangling from the railing as he raced up a broken metal ladder.

"It's okay, little guy!" his image said. "Just hold on a little while longer, I'm almost there!"

Steve's heart was thudding so fast that he could barely stay upright, his arms tight around Tony as if to remind himself that Tony was alive and well, and not lying in a hospital bed somewhere with his chest gaping open. The image displayed right in front of him and everyone else was one that had tormented him every single day since the battle. It was a near-constant thorn in the back of his mind, haunting both his waking hours and his dreams.

He needed me to catch him, but I didn't.

And then, we almost lost him.

I almost lost them both.

"Стиви, he's trying to fall asleep again!" warned Bucky.

"No!" cried Tony. "Oh God, Pete, don't give up now!"

"Guys, his EEG and heart rate are slowing down!" Bruce said over the intercom. "We're losing him!"

"Papa," Peter said again, barely audible, his eyes completely closed. "I can't hold on anymore!"

"It's okay, little guy, I'm almost there!" Image Steve said as he arrived one level below where Image Peter was hanging, dropping his shield and raising his arms. "You'll just drop right into my arms, okay?"

Image Peter hesitated, crying out as his hands slipped again.

"Papa?"

"Peter, you gotta let go, okay?" he heard himself say. "It's all right, little guy, I'm gonna catch you!"

Steve nearly choked as he saw Image Peter nod, his brown eyes briefly flashing orange as he let go of the railing.

But then the explosion blew him sideways, and I—I didn't—

I didn't catch him.

As if in slow motion, Steve watched his son fall, bracing himself for the explosion that he knew was coming.

Only this time, there was no explosion.

"Steve!" Tony exclaimed as Image Peter dropped from the railing, right into Image Steve's arms.

Steve had caught him.

He was safe.

"Papa's got you, little guy, I've got you," Image Steve said. He cradled his boy in his arms as Tony skidded to a halt behind them, his helmet retracting as his armoured arms pulled them both against his chest.

"Everything's gonna be okay now," said Image Tony. "It's all over.

It's all over.

Steve heard a soft cough from the bed, and he looked down to see Bucky helping Peter to sit up, blinking and bleary-eyed like he had just woken up from a long nap. He breathed in, squaring his shoulders as he looked directly at his image counterpart.

"Everything's okay now," he said. "It's all over."

Image Peter gave a nod, still wrapped in both his dads' arms. "Everything's okay now."

And then the whole scene dissolved, leaving only reality behind.

Once again, silence fell across the panic room as Peter collapsed back against Bucky, with Tony practically vibrating in Steve's arms as Bucky looked back at them, a wide smile stretched across his face.

"Стиви, I think we're good here."

"Bruce?" Tony said. "Are we—are we good here?"

"Everything looks good here, Tony!" Bruce said excitedly. "Seems like he did it!"

Before Steve could even react Tony had torn himself free, rushing over to their son and tucking his head against his chest.

"I'm okay now, Dad," Peter said as Steve came up behind them, embracing them both. "It's all over."

Tony shuddered, sliding the glasses from Peter's face before burying his nose into his hair. "I know it is. But goddamnit, bud, do ya think that you and Papa could make it just a little less dramatic next time? I mean, geez!"

Peter sputtered out a laugh, burrowing even closer to Tony as Bucky got up from the bed. Steve glanced up at him, giving him a nod of thanks which Bucky returned with a soft smile.

The experiment had worked. Peter was now completely free from HYDRA's influence.

And maybe, just maybe, Steve would now be able to let go of some of the guilt he'd been carrying ever since the Miami battle.

Steve stepped back as the rest of the team filed into the room, with Natasha being the first to wrap Peter into a hug, followed quickly by Clint and Bruce.

"Can we go get some food now?" Peter asked once everyone had taken their turn. "I'm hungry."

"But of course you are," Tony said with a laugh.

"What do you feel like having, little guy?" Steve asked.

Peter gave a shrug. "Pizza's always good, isn't it?"

"Damn right, kiddo," Clint said as he mussed Peter's hair. "C'mon, let's get the hell outta here. I've had enough of this room to last a long, long time."

Yeah, Steve thought as he helped Peter to his feet, then reached for Tony's hand.

Me too.

"Excellent choices, gentlemen. If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back with your drinks," said the waiter as he took the menus from their hands, giving a slight bow as he stepped away. As soon as he was out of sight Steve reached across the table for Tony's hand, running his thumb along the wedding ring that he'd placed on his finger two years ago.

Holy shit, we've been married for two years.

Two whole years.

It was the longest relationship that Tony had ever had. Before Steve, Tony had always freaked out around the sixteen-month mark and ended things, too scared of commitment to want to continue any further.

And that had only been twice.

And both times were before his parents died and Peter came along.

Guess I really have changed.

"So, do I want to know why there weren't any prices listed on the menu?" Steve asked with a smile, one that made his blue eyes sparkle and reveal the dimple that never failed to make Tony's breath catch.

"Pretty sure it's one of those things where if you have to ask, you can't afford it, honey," Tony murmured. "But why does it matter?"

"Tony—" Steve started, tilting his head.

"Nuh uh," Tony cut in. Steve had already tried to convince Tony that they could just go out to a pub or something in Brooklyn to celebrate their anniversary, but Tony wasn't having it. "This is a special occasion and you're more than worth it, so just hush, yeah?"

Steve's eyebrows knitted together, but he smiled again anyway.

"All right."

He sat back as the waiter placed their drinks in front of them, some fancy Italian beer that Steve had wanted to try. Steve reached for his glass as soon as the waiter disappeared, raising it in a toast.

"To us," Steve said. "To celebrating one of the happiest days of my life, and for the lifetime to come."

"You're such a sap," Tony said as he clinked their glasses together and took a sip. The beer was rather good, smooth and rich with none of the "beer" aftertaste that Tony didn't like. Before Steve, Tony could have counted on one hand the amount of times that he'd actually drank beer, always preferring Scotch as his drink of choice, and not the cheap stuff either.

But then Peter came along, and although Tony had been tempted more than a few times over the years, he hadn't touched a drop of the stuff since then.

"So, I was thinking," Steve said once their entrees had arrived, the finest steak and lobster that New York City had to offer.

"Oh, tell me more, honey," Tony said with a grin. "You know how much I love it when you get to thinking."

Steve chuckled, showing that dimple again as he took a bite of his steak, and it was all Tony could do to not try and drag him off to the men's room right then and there. He didn't know if it was the fact that it was their anniversary dinner or what, but Steve was looking so incredibly gorgeous that evening in his perfectly tailored navy blue pinstripe suit that Tony could barely take his eyes off him, much less try and keep his hands to himself.

"I was thinking, Peter's summer vacation is coming up in about a month, and since we went to Italy over his break, I was wondering if we could plan a trip to Ireland sometime during the summer? Maybe take him to a couple of the places that we went on our honeymoon?"

"Like where your mom and dad were from?" asked Tony.

"Yeah. I guess I'd just like him to get to see some of it."

"Well, I'm sure it'll be a hard sell, but I don't see why we can't at least try," Tony said, winking. "You know how much Pete hates exploring new places."

And there was that damn dimple again, sending a shock of warmth blooming across Tony's chest. At this rate, there was no way Tony was going to even make it through dinner.

"You gonna want to invite the whole team again?" Tony asked. "Another team-building field trip?"

Steve shook his head. "I thought about it, but I'm thinking no for this time. I think I'd prefer it just be the three of us."

Tony smirked as he took another sip of his beer. "You know that'll mean fewer distractions for Pete though, right?"

Steve blushed, looking down at his plate. "Yeah, I did think of that, but Peter seems to pretty much run the other way whenever I try and hold your hand in front of him, so I'm hoping it won't be too much of an issue."

"That's true," Tony said with a laugh. He honestly couldn't remember ever seeing his own parents be affectionate with each other so he knew his frame of reference wasn't great, but he also had a strong feeling that not too many of Peter's classmates had parents that seemed to like each other as much as his did.

But then again, none of Peter's classmates' parents were married to Steve Rogers either.

"Well, I'm up for it either way," Tony continued. "Just let me know the dates once you have them so I can tell Pepper when we'll be gone."

Steve gave a nod. "Sounds good."

They made more small talk through the rest of their meal, including dessert—a chocolate soufflé something-or-other that Steve had wanted to order—and coffee. It was very relaxing and romantic, and after the stress of the Registration Act and the MAUDE experiments, Tony was immensely grateful for it.

And he was even more immensely grateful for what he knew awaited he and his drop-dead gorgeous husband once they got home.

If they were able to make it home, that is. At this rate, the only thing keeping Tony from pouncing on Steve as soon as they got back to the car was how mad Pepper would be if they got caught.

"It was such a pleasure serving you gentlemen on this fine evening," their waiter said as Tony paid the bill, giving him a three hundred dollar tip. "I hope you have a both have a lovely evening, and happy anniversary."

"Oh, I think we will," Tony said, smirking when Steve blushed again. He got to his feet, clearing his throat as he offered Tony his arm.

"Shall we, sweetheart?"

"Hell yes," Tony said. "We definitely shall."

Like many fine New York City dining establishments, their restaurant was located on the very top floor of an exclusive hotel. Tony thought it was a bit odd when he happened to notice a man dressed in a poorly-fitting suit standing inside the restaurant's waiting area as they left, but didn't think anything else of it until the elevator doors opened into the parking garage level and three other men stepped out of a nondescript black sedan, one of whom Tony recognised as FBI Agent Bartlett, his father's old acquaintance.

"Mr Stark," Bartlett said, pulling his badge from his breast pocket as Tony's belly gave a hard swoop. "Captain Rogers. Good evening."

"Agent Bartlett," Tony said, gripping Steve's arm. "So I guess you are still alive, hmm?"

"Is there something we can do for you, Agent?" Steve asked in his Captain's voice, his hand covering Tony's on his arm. Tony could tell he was fighting the urge to step in front of him, which meant that his hackles were already up, which usually meant that something very not good was about to happen.

Bartlett's eyes flicked briefly from Steve to Tony and back to Steve again before nodding towards his two partners. The two men started to approach Steve from opposite sides, almost as though as they were trying to corner him.

"What the hell is going on?" Tony demanded. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Stark, but I have orders," said Bartlett as one of his partners pulled out a pair of handcuffs that looked like they could've contained a rhinoceros.

"Orders? What in the goddamn hell are you talking about? Who's orders?"

But Bartlett just ignored him as one of his partners stepped behind Steve, grabbing onto his upper arms. "Steve Rogers, you're under arrest for the falsification of information on your Army enlistment form. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be—"

"What?" Tony yelled, completely aghast. "That's a bunch of bullshit, and you know it!"

"Tony, don't!" Steve said, grunting as the agent cuffed his hands behind him. "Please, sweetheart, don't. Don't give them anything that they could use against you."

"What?" Tony instinctively reached for Steve, only to have his arm grabbed by one of the other agents. "Use against me?" he said as he tore himself free. "They don't have anything against either one of us, so now they're just making shit up!"

"Sweetheart, please, don't!" Steve pleaded, his blue eyes so filled with worry that it stole Tony's breath. "You need to take care of Peter, okay? Make sure he's safe."

Make sure Peter is safe. That was Steve-code for 'get ready to pack him off to Asgard', but at the moment Tony was too upset to think of much of anything besides getting his husband out of the vile clutches of the three HYDRA agents standing in front of him.

Of all the low, scum-of-the-earth ways to circumvent the failure of the Registration Act, this wasn't one that Tony ever saw coming.

I should've seen this coming! Why didn't I see this coming?

"Steve," he whimpered, his heart in his throat. "C'mon, honey, don't let them do this!"

Steve's lower lip quivered as he shook his head. "Please, mo grá. Just keep Peter safe."

He surged forward then, catching Tony's lips in a desperate kiss as the three agents yanked on his arms, tearing him away. Tony immediately lunged for him, only to be stopped by Agent Bartlett's palm on his chest.

"Don't, Mr Stark, you'll only make this worse," he said, so smugly that Tony had to fight the urge to punch his lights out. "I strongly suggest that you go home now."

"But—!" Tony stammered, tears stinging his eyes as Steve called out a soft, "I love you" just before he was shoved into the backseat of Bartlett's car, followed by one of the agents.

But… he didn't do anything, and we were celebrating our anniversary, and all this is a bunch of made-up HYDRA bullshit, and—

What in the goddamn hell am I going to tell Pete?

"Where are you taking him?" Tony asked quietly.

"Just a holding facility," Bartlett said. He handed Tony a business card, pointing to a phone number. "You can call that number on Monday to arrange for—"

"Monday? There's no way in hell that I'm waiting until Monday!" Tony exclaimed. "No, you can be damn sure that you'll be hearing from my lawyers before midnight tonight, you got that? This is all just a big pile of bullshit and you know it!"

Agent Bartlett's lips twitched into a smirk. "Suit yourself, Mr Stark. Goodnight."

And then he turned on his heel and climbed into the car. Tony watched as it drove away, leaving him behind, his heart cracking in two and his mind spinning so fast that he felt lightheaded.

"Keep Peter safe," Steve had said. "I love you."

If Tony hadn't known any better, it would've almost sounded as though Steve was giving up, but Tony knew he would never do that. Especially not against HYDRA.

He was just putting Tony and Peter ahead of himself, like he always did.

Goddamn stubborn soldier.

Tony stood rooted to the spot for several heartbeats, almost too afraid to move. It wasn't until another car honked at him to get out of the way that he drew in a deep breath and hurried towards his car, gripping the steering wheel with both hands as soon as he was inside.

There was no way he was going to allow Steve to sit in some HYDRA holding facility until Monday, because he knew without a doubt that there was no way Steve would even still be in that holding facility come Monday.

He had to act fast.

"JARVIS, is Pete okay?" he said in a shaky voice as he started the car.

"Master Peter is currently located in Sergeant Barnes' apartment with he and Agent Barton, sir," replied JARVIS. "They are watching a hockey game."

"Okay, good." That probably meant that Peter hadn't heard about what happened yet. "Get Pepper, Rhodey, and Sam on the line, will ya? I need to talk to them."

"Very good, sir."

A few seconds later the three faces appeared on Tony's dashboard screen, all looking confused.

"Tony?" Pepper asked. "What's going on?"

"Uhh," Tony said, barely able to get the words out. "Steve… he's… um… Sam, is my kid okay?"

"Yeah, Tony, as far as I know he's fine," replied Sam. "He and Clint went down to Bucky's apartment for the game. Why?"

Tony swiped his hand across his nose, barely avoiding sideswiping another car as he attempted to merge. "Uhh, Rhodey, how fast can you get to New York?'

"Three hours if it's an emergency, Tones," Rhodey said. "Why?"

"Okay, so, I need you to leave right now, and—"

"Tony!" Pepper exclaimed. "What has happened? Where's Steve, I thought it was your anniversary dinner tonight?"

"It—it was, but—"

"Tony?" Sam said grimly. "Where's Steve?"

No! Tony immediately thought. If I say it out loud, that means it's true!

"Tony, where's Steve?" Sam said again.

"He's—he's," he stammered, gritting his teeth as he rounded a corner.

"He's been arrested," he finally said. "HYDRA's got him."

Happy Holidays to everyone who celebrates!

And don't forget to leave me a review! Only three, maybe four chapters are left! :)