"Aaarrggghhh!" Peter groaned as he slammed the top of his computer closed and buried his face into his blankets, his glasses digging uncomfortably into the sides of his nose. He had just spent the last three hours decoding the longest HYDRA file on his list, and for all of his work he had found exactly nothing of value.
In fact, it seemed like most of the file had been written by a kindergartener since it read more like a fairy tale than anything else, with lots of references to peanuts and peaches and wild horses and "gates marking the sea", exactly none of which was helping Peter figure out where HYDRA was keeping his papa.
And while he was still trying to maintain a brave face in front of Dad and the rest of his family and friends, as the days dragged on with absolutely no progress, Peter had to admit he was starting to lose hope that they would ever find Papa.
It's been almost four weeks, Peter thought miserably. If we don't find him soon, then…
Nope, not gonna go there.
They had at least been able to rule out a few places thanks to the scouting raids conducted by Uncle Bucky, Uncle Clint, and Auntie Nat on several HYDRA coastal strongholds throughout Eastern Europe and Russia. Western Europe was more difficult to cover, as it wasn't as easy to slip in and out of those countries even with just the three of them. So far they had been able to rule out the countries along the Mediterranean coastline, but that still left a lot of European ground uncovered, which Director Fury—along with Pepper, since Stark Industries had offices in many of those countries—was trying to help cover using some of his old spy connections.
But Peter didn't really have the patience to wait for diplomacy, and neither did Dad. They both wanted answers now.
'Cause if we don't find him soon, then—
No.
He couldn't go there.
His lungs ready to burst, Peter finally lifted his head, gulping in air. He pulled off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to decide what to do. It was already late, after midnight, and he was so tired that he could barely hold his head up, but at the same time too afraid to go to sleep. His dreams had been nothing short of horrifying lately, and he didn't really feel like stressing Dad out even more by waking up screaming again.
"May as well just keep going," Peter muttered. He reached for his bag of peanut m&ms, popping three into his mouth as he opened the next file.
Dad had actually taken the news about the HYDRA files a lot better than Peter thought he would. The fact that Peter had been almost inconsolable when he finally confessed probably helped his case quite a bit, but once Dad recovered from his initial shock and looked over what he had decrypted, he agreed to allow Peter to keep working on the files as long as he promised to share everything that he found with the rest of the team.
Unfortunately, he hadn't found all that much since then, and there weren't all that many files left to decrypt. Auntie Nat had uncovered some more at a few of the bunkers they had raided, but so far none of them had panned out either.
Grabbing another handful of m&ms, Peter shoved them into his mouth and selected the next file, breathing out slowly as he allowed his eyes to relax into their panoramic state so he could decipher it. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't even notice Dad coming into his room until he sat down on the bed, nearly causing Peter to jump out of his skin.
"Pete, it's really late, bud," Dad said softly. He pressed a kiss to the top of Peter's head, ruffling his hair. "You need to get some sleep, this stuff can wait till tomorrow."
Peter shook his head. "Dad, I don't—I was just trying to finish this, and—"
"Nuh uh. Don't you be trying to give me excuses, buddy, I know you too well," Dad cut in. "You keep telling yourself that it's just one more file, but then it'll be just one more, and then just one more, and so on, and so on, and—" He paused, letting out a sort of morbid chuckle. "Can't say that I don't know where you get that particular trait from, but… it's probably not the best thing when it's a school night, don't ya think?"
"Mmm," Peter grumbled. "No, I guess not, but—"
"Pete," Dad said, and Peter's heart gave a lurch when his voice broke. "Please, bud, try and get some sleep, yeah? You know Papa wouldn't want you to be stressing yourself out like this."
"Yeah, but—"
He managed to swallow the rest of his sentence before it escaped from his mouth, not wanting to upset Dad more than he already was. He had already lost a bunch of weight since Papa had been gone, his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, like he'd been crying, his face was scarily pale under his overgrown facial hair, and Peter knew that he hadn't slept more than a few minutes in the last several days. And he'd only gotten that because Uncle James had threatened to knock him over the head if he didn't sit down for awhile.
It was the same way that Dad had always been whenever Peter was sick as a little kid, and when Papa had been in the hospital after the Malibu house bombing and the Project Insight mess. He just couldn't rest when someone he loved was sick or hurt.
Or missing.
"Okay, fine," Peter said instead. He fiddled with his blankets for a second, trying to decide if he should ask. It'd been awhile since he'd needed Dad to help him fall asleep, but… the nightmares had just been so bad lately, so…
What the hell.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"Um… do you think… maybe you could—?"
Dad stopped him with a kiss to his forehead. "Sure, bud. I can sit with you until you're asleep."
"Oh, that's good," Peter said in a rush. "Thanks."
The corners of Dad's lips quirked up into the slightest of smiles. "Sure thing. Go on and brush your teeth, yeah?"
"Uh huh."
Stacking his laptops and m&ms on his bedside table, Peter shuffled into the bathroom, finding Dad already in position when he came back out. He crawled underneath his covers, burrowing down as Dad pulled them up to his neck and brushed his hair off his forehead.
"Sleep now, buddy," Dad whispered. "I love you."
"Love you too," Peter mumbled as he cuddled a bit closer, listening to the calming sound of Dad's heartbeat. He let out a semi-contented sigh when Dad's fingers wove into his hair, rubbing his scalp. Dad had told him too many times to count that the only way he'd been able to get him to sleep—or stop screaming, as was usually the case—when he was a baby was to tuck his head against Dad's chest over his heart, and rub his head.
And it still worked even now, apparently, because barely a minute later Peter felt himself start to drift off. He forced one eye open, glancing up at Dad to find him with his eyes closed and his head tipped back against the headboard. He wasn't completely relaxed, with his tight jawline and stiff shoulders, but it was the closest he'd been since Papa was taken away, and Peter knew it was probably the best that he would get until Papa came home again.
"Dad? We're gonna find him, right?" Peter hated how pathetic he sounded, and how small, but that last file had thrown him for such a loop that he felt just as pathetic and small as he sounded. It had just been he and Dad for so long before Papa suddenly showed up in the middle of that Afghanistan desert, but Peter loved him now as though he had been there for his entire life, and the thought of never seeing him again was just too much to even contemplate.
And he knew it was even worse for Dad.
"Course we are, buddy," Dad murmured sleepily. "If Papa was too damn stubborn to die when he was frozen in ice for over sixty years, then he'll be too damn stubborn to die now too."
"Mmm, that's true. He is pretty stubborn."
"Damn right he is. Sleep now."
"Uh huh."
We've gotta find him, Peter thought as he tucked even closer to his father, finally succumbing to his exhaustion.
For all our sakes.
Steve jerked awake, spitting a mouthful of blood all over the concrete floor of his cell, crying out as a sharp pain pierced his side like a spear. He pressed his palm against the spot, biting his lip to try and keep quiet as he slowly hoisted himself into a sitting position. His chest hurt so badly that he could only breathe in shallow gasps, his left foot was practically useless, and both of his hands were bloody and bruised across the knuckles, the pain shooting down his left index and middle fingers indicating that they were likely broken. Again.
Finally situated against the wall, Steve sucked in a slow breath, tipping his head back as he tried to get his sluggish mind to start working. His memory had been almost useless lately, too murky from pain and grief and dulled by never-ending hunger and thirst to function more than what was required for basic survival. He knew that HYDRA was drugging him, and the red-haired woman seemed to have some kind of mind-control powers as well, such that Steve had now developed an almost Pavlovian-like fear response to even the sight of her that most likely wasn't helping anything.
He closed his bruised and swollen eyes as bright flashes of light raced across his mind, sprinkled with various images of his husband and son that were alternatively heart-wrenching and terrifying. Peter lying unconscious, crushed underneath three tons of rubble. Tony being attacked by some electronic whip-wielding lunatic while he was driving. Peter being attacked by the very defence drones that Tony had invented to protect him, while Quentin Beck looked on and laughed.
Tony frantically rushing over to Peter, lying motionless on the tarmac of an airport.
And by far the worst of them, Tony attacking Steve in a rage because he believed that he had been turned into a HYDRA agent, all while wearing armour designed by Justin Hammer.
It's not real, Steve thought, hoping against hope that he was actually right and not just dreaming it. Tony could never hate me, they're just messing with my mind. None of it's real.
My name is Steven Grant Rogers. I was born on July the fourth, nineteen hundred and eighteen. I'm the son of Joseph and Sarah Rogers, husband of Tony Stark, father of Peter Stark-Rogers.
I'm a prisoner of HYDRA, but I can't forget who I am.
I am Steve Rogers. Husband, father, and Captain America.
He had repeated the mantra three more times when a bright light flashed outside the window of his cell, followed by heavy footsteps in the hallway. They must've been waiting for him to regain consciousness.
Wonder who it'll be this time?
With how much difficulty Steve had been having with his memory, especially with how he'd managed to get so badly injured, he had at least been able to keep track of the two different men who made regular appearances at his window.
Doctor List and Justin Hammer.
Apparently this time it was Doctor List's turn.
"Good morning, Captain," Doctor List said as he arrived at the window, the young red-haired woman standing next to him. "I trust that you slept well?"
Okay, so I guess it must be morning.
Or, it's just another way they're trying to throw me off.
Steve narrowed his eyes, not too difficult given how swollen they were, his heart already thudding against his sore chest. "Think your trust has been misplaced, Doctor."
"Oh, now, Captain, there's no need to be rude, is there?" replied Doctor List. "After all, we're all on the same side here, aren't we?"
"No," Steve said simply. "We are not."
Doctor List looked so genuinely taken aback by Steve's statement that Steve would've laughed if he thought it wouldn't hurt so damn much.
"I see," the HYDRA agent said. "Well, then I guess we still have some more work to do." He nodded towards the young woman, who's name Steve couldn't seem to remember at the moment. "My dear, if you don't mind?"
The woman gave an almost mechanical nod as she pressed her right palm against Steve's window, filling the cell with the bright red light that he realised a second too late meant that his mind was about to get even more scrambled.
The light had barely faded when Steve blinked and suddenly Tony and Peter were there, standing in his cell, with Tony wearing his armour and Peter dressed in his Spider-Man suit. Steve gasped, clutching his side as he got to his feet, trying to ignore the searing pain in his ribs and crushed foot as he held out his arms towards his beloved husband and son.
"Tony! Peter!" he exclaimed as he took a tentative step towards him, his heart twisting when Tony shook his head, tucking Peter behind him as they both stepped back, almost like they were afraid of him.
"Don't you come near him, you understand me?" Tony warned, his right repulsor aimed directly at Steve's chest. "You goddamn HYDRA scum, you stay away from my son!"
Shock swept across Steve's body like a wave, amplifying the pulsating pain in his ribs and foot to almost unbearable levels as tears stung his sore, swollen eyes.
"Tony, what are you saying? I'm not—" He gave his head a quick shake, trying to look around Tony at Peter. "Peter? Little guy, are you all right? What're you doing here, this place is dangerous!"
A repulsor blast suddenly shot past Steve, blowing away part of the wall behind him.
"Tony!" Steve exclaimed as his belly gave a violent swoop. "Sweetheart, what're you doing?"
"Don't you even fucking talk to me!" Tony shouted as he aimed his repulsor again. "I'm warning you, if you take one more step towards my son, I'm gonna—"
"But he's my son too!" Steve cried as the tears finally escaped, rolling down his cheeks. "Tony, what's wrong? Don't you recognise me? I'm your husband! I love you, how can you not see that?"
But Tony only shook his head, his brown eyes glaring bullets that hit Steve square in his heart, ripping it to shreds. "No. You're nothing but a liar," he said, low and tight. "An imposter who killed my husband and tried to take his place. Well, I'm not falling for it anymore, so you can just take your HYDRA ass and get the hell outta here, 'cause you're not getting anywhere near me or my son, you got that?"
Steve's mind was swirling so fast that he felt lightheaded, the knot in his throat so big that he could barely swallow. This had to be just another HYDRA trick, because there was no way that his Tony would ever speak to him like that, with such contempt and hatred. Tony loved him.
Didn't he?
It's the woman! Steve thought desperately. She—she's messing with my mind again. It's not real!
It can't be real!
Summoning what remained of his strength, Steve turned away from Tony and Peter and looked directly at the window, shaking his head.
"This isn't real!" he said in the best Captain's voice he could muster. "Get out of my head!"
There was a brief gust of air, and the image surrounding Steve suddenly changed to what looked like some kind of battlefield. Burning fires interspersed with piles of rubble and twisted metal surrounded him, and he whipped around, his breath catching as he caught sight of Peter cradled in Bucky's arms, his limp body covered in burns and black soot.
"Oh God!" Steve gasped as he hurried over to his son, falling to his knees beside him and brushing the matted curls off his forehead. Peter's skin was cold, far too cold for such a burning hot room, and his skin was as pale a blank canvas.
"Bucky? Is he—is he—?"
Bucky's blue eyes were downcast, glassy with unshed tears as he shook his head. "Stevie, he's not—he didn't—" He paused, pursing his lips in anger and disappointment as he looked directly at Steve. "You were supposed to catch him, but… you didn't. Why didn't you catch him? Now he's dead!"
"No!" Steve gasped. "Oh God, please, no!" Carefully, he took his son into his arms, pressing his ear to Peter's chest to listen for a heartbeat.
But there was nothing there. There was nothing except the crackle of the fires behind him, and the shattering of his own heart.
Peter was gone.
I was supposed to catch him, but—
I didn't.
It's all my fault.
"Steve," James suddenly called from behind him, sending a freezing cold bolt of fear down his spine. Slowly, Steve turned, still holding onto Peter's lifeless body as his eyes landed on Tony, his head lying in James's lap, his armoured body completely motionless.
"He got shot in the heart, Steve," said James, completely devoid of emotion. "He's dead."
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no!
Crawling over to his husband, Steve carefully laid Peter down on the floor next to Tony before pressing his lips to Tony's forehead, his ashen skin already ice-cold.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, splashing onto Tony's cheeks. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't save you."
And then he gathered his husband and son into his arms, burying his face into their heads of curly brown hair as a whirlpool opened up deep inside his gut, sucking everything inside him down into a dark oblivion of pain and grief, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.
His entire life had just been broken apart into a million shattered pieces, and it was all his fault.
He no longer deserved to live.
"Very good, my dear. One of your best yet, I believe," a vaguely familiar voice said from somewhere behind Steve. His Captain's instinct tried to tell him that he should turn around and investigate the source of the voice, but he was too frozen with grief to even move.
"Let's make sure that he remembers this one, yes?" the voice continued as two sets footsteps echoed against the concrete floor. "I think it might make our task a bit easier from here on out."
"Pardon me, sir, but Agent Romanoff is on the line," JARVIS said, startling Tony so badly that he knocked over his coffee cup, splashing the burning hot liquid all over his hand and several of Bruce's handwritten notebooks.
"Goddamnit," he grumbled as he shook the scorching hot droplets from his fingers. He grabbed an oil-stained towel from a shelf, mopping up the rest of the spill before it could destroy the rest of Bruce's papers, even though they were already littered with so many coffee stains that he probably wouldn't've even noticed more of them.
"What does she want, JARVIS?"
"Agent Romanoff is inquiring if you would like her to stop by the floral shop on her way home with Master Peter," said JARVIS. "To order Miss Stacy's corsage for the dance?"
"Oh, shit," Tony muttered as he scrubbed a palm down his face. "Ahh, when is the dance again?"
"Three days from now, sir."
Tony huffed, mentally kicking himself for not remembering. "Ah, yeah, if she—if she doesn't mind. And tell her thanks for me, will ya?"
"I will indeed, sir."
Trust Natasha to remember stuff like dances and corsages when she, Clint, and Bucky had just gotten back from yet another raid, this time to several small islands off the Alaskan mainland.
Yet another raid where they didn't find Steve, or really anything else that was useful. Out of the three HYDRA bases that they uncovered, only one looked like it had even been in use during the last fifty years, and which was far too small to be anything other than an outpost of sorts.
The team had been able to rule out most of Western Europe thanks to both Fury's connections and Pepper's popularity as the Stark Industries chief executive officer, leaving Africa, Antarctica, and the coastal regions of the mainland U.S. left to search. Fury had already started working with his connections in Africa, and while Tony wouldn't put it past HYDRA to have a base in Antarctica, there were far too many other bases and outposts scattered along the coastal areas of the continent to really be able to hide another.
Now, the United States on the other hand, with how many members of upper-level government and law enforcement that were already under HYDRA's rule, the team couldn't really rule out anywhere as a possible hiding place for Steve's prison.
Unfortunately, that also meant that the team had to tread very carefully. For how easily HYDRA was able to come up with a chump excuse to arrest Steve, Tony couldn't believe that they hadn't yet tried to nail any of the rest of them, especially given Bucky and Natasha's histories as assassins and Bruce's history of running from the government. He had no doubt that they were already being watched, and as such had JARVIS monitoring all communication lines for possible leaks, as well as keeping the defence drones on high alert at all times.
They weren't going to take him or any of the rest of the team without a fight, that was certain, but it also meant that Tony needed to work fast.
The fact that they were all banking on the prison being in a coastal area, and not in some other inaccessible place like on top of a mountain or something was something that Tony chose to conveniently ignore most of the time. Intellectually he knew it would be a lot easier to supply a building that was near water than in a mountainous region, and emotionally—
Emotionally, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it if they were wrong.
In fact, he was pretty much certain that he wouldn't be able to handle it.
Nope, Tony thought as he tossed the coffee-soaked towel haphazardly towards a box in the corner. Not gonna go there.
With a heavy sigh, Tony carefully turned a page of one of the notebooks, rereading the section he'd been studying and comparing it with one of the files that Peter had decoded. Peter had mentioned a semi-enhanced person who he believed could run at almost supersonic speeds, and while the file he'd decoded didn't mention that skill specifically, it did make sense given what had happened up at the Compound.
"JARVIS, pull up the footage from the defence drone that fired at the Compound, will ya?"
A second later his monitor lit up, displaying what appeared to be nothing more than a sharp gust of wind followed immediately by the drone shot, followed by another strong gust.
Tony tapped his chin. "And that was it, J?"
"Yes, sir. There was nothing else."
"Ah huh. And what do you think? You think it looks like a person in there?"
There was a short pause, and Tony could almost imagine JARVIS tilting his head in thought, if in fact he had a head.
"Judging by the displacement of the surrounding leaves and grass during the incident, it would appear to have been caused by a human," said JARVIS. "However, if that is indeed the case, he or she was too fast for me to visualise."
"Hmm. Well, maybe that explains why HYDRA hasn't tried to invade the Tower just yet if their fastest guy got scared off by the drones," Tony muttered. And, since the drones around the Tower had a range long enough to target Peter's school, that could also help to explain why they hadn't gone after him yet either.
Which was obviously just fine by Tony.
"JARVIS, do me a favour and start scheduling regular diagnostics on the drones, all right? Let's say every three hours? I just want to make sure that nothing goes wrong."
"Very good, sir."
"And make sure that at least two are specifically assigned to Pete whenever he's out of the Tower, all right?"
"Yes, sir."
Tony pressed his palm to his chest, the cool metal of Steve's dog tags against his scarred skin sending a light shiver down his spine. The fact that the drones had not only surprised HYDRA but also managed to scare them off couldn't be just a coincidence, and it also likely meant that wherever they were holding Steve was currently out of the firing range of the drones, both at the Tower and Compound and those mounted on the Stark Industries building in D.C.
"JARVIS, pull up a map of the eastern coastal U.S. areas, yeah?"
A second later a holographic map of the U.S. Eastern Seaboard appeared, the Compound, Tower, and D.C. buildings highlighted in red.
"All right," Tony said as he circled the hologram. "Now show me the areas that are in the targeting range of the current drone system."
Green circles appeared on the hologram, encompassing most of the New York and Maryland coastlines.
"Okay," Tony said slowly, thinking. If he were able to double the targeting range of the drones, it just might be enough to force HYDRA out of some of their foxholes and into the open, especially if they were forced to move Steve because of it.
Hmm...
"JARVIS, show me what it would look like if the targeting range was doubled?"
The circles grew to include most of the New England coastline, along with all of Maryland, Virginia, and a good portion of the North Carolina coastline.
Well, it's a start.
"Ah uh. And how long would it take to double the range on the current drones?"
"Am I to assume that you are not interested in replacing the drones, but rather upgrading them?" JARVIS asked.
"Yeah, that would be a valid assumption," answered Tony. "A software upgrade instead of hardware."
"Very well. Then I am estimating it would take one week's time to complete the upgrade on all units, if in fact it is your desire to not deactivate them while they are being upgraded."
"Again, you assume correct," Tony said with a sigh. "We can't afford to have any of those things offline for even a second, you got that?"
"Duly noted, sir," said JARVIS. "Shall I get started immediately?"
"Ahh, you got Rhodey's new suit done yet?" Tony had already upgraded his own armour since Steve's arrest, as well as the rest of the team's equipment and increased the number of the Iron Legion suits from twelve to twenty. He wanted to make sure that the team was as well-equipped as possible when it came time to storm Steve's prison.
"Barring interruption, Colonel Rhodes' armour will be completed at approximately 1800."
"And you've finished all the diagnostics on the new Iron Legion suits?"
"Indeed I have, sir," replied JARVIS, and Tony almost smiled at the UI's indignant tone, so reminiscent of the human Mr Jarvis.
"All right, then as soon as all the diagnostics on Rhodey's suit are done, get started on the drones, yeah?"
"Very good, sir."
"Thanks." Tony ran his fingers down his unkempt goatee, trying to concentrate on the fact that they were going to find Steve instead of the possibility that it might take another week, or even longer.
Hold on, honey, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was definitely time for more coffee.
We're coming for you babe, you just gotta hold on.
"Here you are, young man. I hope you have fun at your prom!" the cashier said as she handed Peter the plastic box containing Gwen's corsage, a bright pink tulip accented with baby's breath and some green fern-looking plant that would coordinate with Gwen's emerald green dress beautifully.
Or at least Auntie Nat said it would, and Peter trusted her judgment.
"Thank you," Peter answered with what he hoped was a kind smile. His smiles had been so few and far between lately that when he did manage one it seemed so foreign on his lips that he was afraid it looked fake. But the lady gave him a kind smile in return, so maybe it hadn't been too horrible.
"All right, are you sure you have everything else?" said Auntie Nat as they exited the floral shop. "Suit? Tie? Cologne? Dinner reservation?"
"I made the reservations a week ago, and Dad said I could use his cologne since it's the only kind that doesn't give me a headache," Peter answered as he climbed into the backseat of Uncle Sam's car. "And we picked up my suit yesterday."
"All right," said Auntie Nat, patting Peter's knee. "Then it sounds like you're pretty much set."
"Uh huh." Peter gave a sigh as he leaned back against the seat, briefly closing his eyes. He wished he could be more excited about the dance, especially since Gwen seemed to be, but at the moment all he could think about was the fact that Papa wasn't going to be there to see him get ready, and that it seemed almost wrong for him to be having fun while his papa was missing.
Even though Papa would never want Peter to miss out on something because of him, as Dad had said when Peter brought up the subject a few nights ago, especially since it would mean disappointing Gwen as well. And while Peter knew that Dad was right, it still didn't help him feel any better about it.
"Bucky and I will be up in a couple hours or so to start on some dinner, 'kay, kiddo?" said Uncle Sam as they pulled into the Tower garage. "Don't want you and Tony going hungry."
"Uh huh," Peter said. "Thanks, Uncle Sam."
After storing the corsage in the refrigerator and checking in with Dad in the lab, Peter headed to his room to start on his homework. He had fallen a bit behind on his schoolwork since Papa had been gone, and while he wasn't in danger of his grades being affected or losing his status as the top student in his class, it still annoyed him that he had allowed himself to slack off as much as he had.
Grabbing his polar bear, Peter stuffed the plush animal under his chin as he took out his History textbook and opened his laptop, getting to work on the essay he was writing about the origins of the Civil Rights movement.
"January 10-11th, 1957," Peter read aloud from his textbook. "Sixty black pastors and civil rights leaders met in Atlanta, Georgia to organise nonviolent protests against racial segregation and discrimination."
Peter's head snapped up as something clicked inside his mind, a half-remembered thought that he couldn't quite place, but had a feeling it meant something important.
Sixty black pastors and civil rights leaders met in Atlanta, Georgia.
Atlanta, Georgia.
He reread the sentence again, trying to jog his memory, letting out a loud groan as the thought parked itself on the tip of his brain and refused to budge. He raked a frustrated hand through his hair as he read it for a third time, slowly.
Sixty black pastors and civil rights leaders met in Atlanta, Georgia.
Georgia.
Where else have I seen Georgia mentioned lately?
"Oh my God," Peter gasped, his heart leaping into his throat as he grabbed his second laptop and opened his recently decrypted HYDRA files. He pulled up the long one that he'd dismissed as the gibberish fairy tale, his fingers tapping impatiently against the keyboard as he scanned it over.
Georgia.
Largest U.S. supplier of peaches, pecans, and peanuts. I learned that for Decathlon.
Peaches.
Peanuts.
Peter sucked in a sharp breath, clapping his hand over his mouth. Was it really that simple?
But what the hell does "gates by the sea" mean?
"Ah, JARVIS? Can you help me with something?" Peter asked.
"I am at your service, Master Peter."
"I need to know if the range of the defence drones is long enough to visualise coastal Georgia."
There was a pause, followed by a stern, "I am fairly certain that your father would not approve of this line of questioning, young man."
"No, probably not, but I'd really appreciate it if you could do it anyway," Peter said quickly. "Override Hufflepuff6."
"Oh, very well," JARVIS said with an exaggerated sigh. "But I'm afraid not, Master Peter. The visual range is not long enough."
"Damn," Peter muttered. He buried his nose into his polar bear, thinking. "Um… what about the drones on the D.C. building, would their range be long enough?"
"Not quite, but with a few minor modifications I can increase the range on the southeasternmost unit. Stand by."
"Really?" Peter exclaimed. "How long will it take?"
"Approximately six hours, Master Peter. I'm afraid I am quite busy at the moment, so it won't be any sooner than that."
"No, no, six hours is fine." That would put it right around the time that he'd be back in his room for bedtime anyway. "Can you get started right away? Please?"
"Very well. May I ask what you are hoping to find?"
"Uhh…" Peter bit his lip, just now realising that he was asking JARVIS to help him find a building that was supposedly invisible. JARVIS was really good at a lot of things, but even he probably wouldn't be able to locate a building cloaked with HYDRA retro-reflective tech.
"I guess I'll know it when I see it," Peter said softly. There had to be some clue he could find that would give away a possible location. Disrupted wind patterns, a break in a treeline, something.
I'll tell Dad when I find something, Peter thought as he resumed work on his essay. There was no point in getting Dad's hopes up if it just turned out to be another dead end.
The whole team ended up coming up to the penthouse for Uncle Sam's homemade fried chicken and mashed potatoes, which were even yummy enough to entice Dad out of his lab for a few minutes. Uncle Clint and Uncle Sam kept the conversation going discussing the plans for their latest raids, while Uncle Bruce went over his latest decoded files and lamented the fact that Uncle Thor hadn't yet returned from Asgard and that no one had heard from him since he'd left. Apparently Loki was causing even more trouble than usual.
After encouraging Dad to at least drink some water along with his coffee—Peter wasn't brave enough to try switching him to decaf—Peter hugged him goodnight and headed back to his room, where he found JARVIS just about finished with the drone upgrade.
"All right, JARVIS, can you please tie that drone's camera to my computer screen?" Peter asked as he slipped on his glasses.
The dim image of the Georgia coastline suddenly appeared on Peter's laptop, not much more than waves crashing against rocks and the occasional seagull.
"Would you like me to focus in on the seagulls, Master Peter? There seem to be quite a few out there at this time of night." JARVIS asked, causing Peter to roll his eyes.
"No, thank you. Um… can you start at the northernmost point and just move south along the coast, please? And go slow?"
"Very well."
Peter watched carefully as the camera panned along the coastline, afraid to even blink in case he might miss something. But after three hours had passed with nothing but more waves and birds to show for it, Peter was both exhausted and fried, and still behind on his homework.
"Damn it," he rasped into his polar bear's neck. He took off his glasses, rubbing at his scratchy eyes and trying to keep the tears from falling. He had been crying so much lately that it was starting to get embarrassing.
"Okay… um… would you mind doing it again, JARVIS? And go the other way this time?" As a scientist, Peter knew that an experiment couldn't be counted as a success or a failure unless it was repeatable, and he wanted to make absolutely sure that he hadn't just missed something.
"Yes, I suppose," answered JARVIS. "But it is already way past your bedtime, Master Peter."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." What else is new?
The scan began again, panning from south to north this time. Peter yawned as he watched the waves breaking against the shoreline, pinching himself every time his eyelids got heavy.
"I am really glad that I don't work at a lighthouse or something," he muttered. He slid his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes and trying to blink them back into focus when something shiny suddenly appeared in the far upper right-hand corner of his screen, almost like it was reflecting the moonlight.
"JARVIS, stop!" he exclaimed, flinching as the camera came to a halt. He blinked, slid his glasses back on, and proceeded to freak out when the image completely disappeared.
"Holy shit," Peter whispered as he practically ripped the glasses from his face, tossing them across the bed as he let his eyesight relax into its honeycomb-like state. The shiny object reappeared, clearer this time, and moving parallel to the ground, almost as if it was circling something.
Oh my God!
It only took about three seconds for Peter to realise that the object looked almost exactly like one of Dad's Iron Legion suits, which had to mean that—
And then another suit appeared, reflecting the faint moonlight in bright spots of white as it flickered across the screen and disappeared, followed shortly by yet another suit.
"This has to be it!" Peter croaked past his dry throat. He knew that HYDRA had stolen the designs to Dad's Iron Legion, so if they had managed to build some of their own using the Chitauri tech, then…
Oh, shit!
"Um, JARVIS? Can you zoom in on this position at all?"
"Stand by," JARVIS said as the camera slowly zoomed closer. Peter's heart started to thud as the sharpening pixels revealed the dark grey outline of a building the size of most hockey arenas.
Apparently, Peter's natural spider-vision allowed him to see past the HYDRA cloaking technology.
That has to be where they're holding Papa! It just has to be!
"Okay, right there, JARVIS," said Peter. "Can you please triangulate the position where that camera is paused?"
"Position locked, Master Peter," answered JARVIS. "But I am unsure as to why—"
"It doesn't matter," Peter cut in. "Just… send that exact position to my phone, please."
"Very well, position sent."
After confirming the information on his phone, Peter groped around for his glasses and slid them back on, his heart skipping a beat when the building completely disappeared.
"Yeah, you guys didn't count on me, did ya?" Peter removed the glasses again, relaxing a bit when the flying suits and the building both reappeared and trying to figure out exactly what he was going to do with this information.
He had little doubt that HYDRA was watching them. In fact, they most likely had teams of agents assigned to monitor not only the Tower, but also the Compound and the D.C. building, as well as each individual Avengers' team member.
So the fact that Uncle Clint, Auntie Nat, and Uncle Bucky hadn't encountered any resistance on their recent raids was probably because HYDRA knew they weren't looking in the right places. But if the entire team all happened to suddenly descend on this hidden fortress off the Georgia coast, there would be nothing to stop HYDRA from taking them all prisoner too, or even killing Papa in retaliation.
But maybe not me, Peter thought. Since I'm not an official Avenger.
Peter would definitely be able to move more quietly and easily if he were alone than with a whole team of heroes, and the fact that he could see the supposedly invisible building could also mean that HYDRA wouldn't see him coming until he was already there.
And then, once he was there and had a visual on Papa, Peter could figure out a way to send Dad a signal, letting he and the rest of the team know where they were.
It would be dangerous, and Peter would have to figure out how in the hell he'd be able to get away from his family long enough to make the trip. But if it meant that he would be able to find his papa and expose the rest of HYDRA for all the world to see, then it would be more than worth the risk.
"More than worth it," Peter said firmly.
But first he would need to figure out how he'd be able to get away from the Tower…
"The dance!" Peter exclaimed, quickly smashing his face into his polar bear. The dance would be the perfect opportunity since none of his family members would be there and wouldn't be expecting him home for a few hours. It would mean skipping out on Gwen, and Peter felt a sharp pang of guilt at the thought of disappointing her again, but… hopefully she would be able to forgive him once she understood what he was doing.
And exactly how would I explain what I was doing?
With a quick shake of his head, Peter pushed that unpleasant thought to the back of his mind, concentrating next on his need for a suit. It would have to be dark in colour since his usual red and blue would be easier to spot, so black or dark blue would be best, and putting one together by Friday evening definitely presented a problem, but…
"Wait a second," Peter said. "JARVIS, does Dad still have that old lab next to the CEO office downstairs?"
"The lab has never been properly decommissioned, Master Peter, so I would assume that it is still functional," JARVIS answered. "However, it has not been used since Ms Potts took over as CEO."
"Yeah, which is just fine with me." Peter glanced at the clock, his shoulders sagging when he saw it was already almost three in the morning. But there'd be no way he would have enough time to build a suit and get ready for the dance tomorrow after school, so if he was going to do this, it had to be done now.
Which meant that he had to sneak into Dad's lab, grab his extra bottles of web fluid, then sneak downstairs to the lab and get it up and running again all before he was supposed to wake up for school.
"Why do all of the crises have to happen in the middle of the night?" Peter said as he packed his laptop into his backpack. "Why can't something like this ever happen during normal business hours?"
The penthouse was eerily quiet as Peter crawled up onto the ceiling, carefully making his way down to Dad's lab. His web fluid was being stored with the rest of his chemistry equipment, which was far enough away from Dad's area that he should be able to go unnoticed as long as he was quiet enough, but Peter was still relieved to find Dad conked out next to one of his workstations when he got there, with code strings running across the monitor and a half-empty coffee cup next to his elbow. A lump rose in Peter's throat at how freaked out he knew Dad was gonna be once he realised that Peter had skipped out on the dance, but he was hoping that getting Papa back alive and taking down HYDRA once and for all would be enough to make up for it.
His web fluid carefully packed into his backpack, Peter headed next for the kitchen, and the large vent cover behind the stove that led directly into one of the main ventilation shafts of the Tower. For some bizarre reason Uncle Clint seemed to enjoy climbing through the vents in the buildings sometimes rather than taking the elevators, which usually drove Dad bonkers, but the upside of it was that Uncle Clint had had Peter shadow him on his excursions more than once, so Peter pretty much knew how to get anywhere he needed to get in the Tower without having to use the elevators.
Twenty minutes later, panting and sweating, Peter dropped down into the small lab, relieved to find that Dad hadn't ever gotten around to cleaning it out. He quickly opened his laptop and got to work, inputting the same suit parameters that Dad had used for his old Spider-Man suit, and also adding two additional slots in his waistband for more web fluid vials and one of the locator chips that Dad always installed in Papa's uniforms, which would allow him to send out a signal once he was ready for backup.
"All right," Peter said once everything was up and running. "JARVIS, no one comes into this room except for me, understand?"
"Understood."
He was so thoroughly exhausted by the time he crawled back up to the penthouse and into his room that he just collapsed onto the bed without brushing his teeth, with one final thought flitting across his consciousness.
Not too much longer, Papa. I'm coming for you.
"Hey, buddy," Tony said as he rapped on Peter's slightly opened door. "You need help with anything?"
"Yes, please," Peter called, obviously frustrated as Tony stepped into the room to find him struggling with the knot of his tie. "I don't know why I can never get these things on straight!"
"Nah, it's okay bud," Tony said as he undid the crooked knot and retied it. He had been taught how to tie a tie by none other than Edwin Jarvis himself, a master of proper formal British dress, and while it might've been silly to pride himself on such an accomplishment, Tony still enjoyed it whenever Peter had to ask for his help.
"There you go," he murmured once the tie was properly in place. Then he picked up Peter's suit jacket, holding it out so he could slip it on and brushing his hands across the shoulders to smooth it out.
"So?" Peter asked once he'd fastened the button, turning to face Tony. "How do I look?"
Nostalgia hit Tony like a speeding train as he looked Peter—his sweet boy—up and down, not understanding how in the hell he had managed to grow up so fast right under Tony's nose. While he was still shorter than Tony, he had managed to get a lot closer to eye level over the course of this school year, and his jawline had sharpened up, with his cheeks losing a bit more of their roundness.
And all too soon he'd be sixteen, and driving, and then off to college not too long after that, and then—
Oh God, I'm not ready! Where'd my little boy go?
"Ah, Pete," he managed past his tight throat. "You just look so grown up!"
A nervous smile stretched across Peter's full lips. "Is that a good thing?"
"Course it is, bud," Tony said softly. Just maybe not the easiest thing for me to admit.
Peter gave a small nod, his brown eyes cast downward. "I wish Papa was here."
"Me too, bud," Tony said as he kissed his son's forehead. "But try and have some fun anyway, yeah? You know Papa would want that."
"Uh huh." Peter huffed out a sharp breath, glancing at his clock. "Well, I guess we better get going."
"Yeah, especially since everyone else is waiting in the living room so they can gawk at you." Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. "C'mon Casanova, let's not keep the lady waiting."
After posing for several pictures graciously taken by Sam, Tony and Peter headed down to the garage. The plan was for Tony to drive Gwen and Peter to their restaurant for dinner, then have them escorted the two blocks to the school by Stacy and his partner, who were both on duty that evening. Stacy had also volunteered to drive Peter home after the dance ended at midnight, which Tony had uneasily accepted after being encouraged by Sam to do so, but at the moment he still wasn't quite sure if he'd be able to go through with it.
Regardless, Tony had made sure that JARVIS had a continuous lock on Peter's phone, just in case.
The look of awe on Peter's face once they arrived at Gwen's house sent another stab of nostalgia straight into Tony's heart. Tony had to admit that she looked very pretty in her emerald green dress that matched her eyes, with her blonde hair curled and swept to one side to brush across her shoulder.
And the fact that she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Peter spoke volumes to Tony, easing his anxiety just enough to allow him to smile as they all posed for more photographs.
Steve would be so proud of his little guy, Tony thought as Peter offered Gwen his arm to walk out to the car. He should be here.
"All right, here we are," Tony said, pulling up to the curb next to their restaurant, a nice Italian place that he and Steve liked to frequent on their date nights. He glanced into the rearview mirror, giving Peter a wink. "You remembered your wallet, didn't you, Pete?"
"Yes, Dad, I've got it," Peter said, giving Tony one of his duh looks as he stepped out of the car. Tony could've sworn he saw a flash of trepidation race across Peter's brown eyes, but it was there and gone again so fast that he decided he had just imagined it. "I'll see you after the dance, okay?"
"All right, bud. Have fun, yeah?"
"Thank you very much, Mr Stark," Gwen said as Peter helped her out of the car.
"You're welcome, Miss Stacy. Have a wonderful night."
He returned to the penthouse to find Bruce sitting in his lab, sipping coffee and going over some of his latest notes, which Tony could tell because they were still mostly readable.
"What's up, big guy?"
Bruce shook his head, not looking up from his papers. "Eh, not too much, unfortunately. I was kinda hoping that Peter would be able to uncover some more stuff, 'cause I honestly think I'm gonna go permanently cross-eyed if I do much more of this decoding." He shot Tony a rather sheepish wince as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, Tony. I don't want it to seem like I'm trying to exploit your kid or anything, but—"
"Nah, it's okay," Tony said quickly. "I'll be the first to admit that Pete's unique abilities have come in pretty handy lately, and you know he likes to feel useful, so…"
"Yeah, but this would all be a whole helluva lot easier if we knew where Thor was," said Bruce. "It's not like him to be gone this long."
"You thinking that something might've happened to him?" Tony asked as he sat down at his workstation. "I thought his dad was the king of Asgard or something."
"Yeah, he is, but I wouldn't put much past Loki," Bruce said. "I suppose it all depends on how big a mess he's caused this time."
"Mmm," said Tony. But at least we know where Thor is.
"So, Clint and Bucky were talking some more about their next set of raids, and—"
"Actually, I've got a couple ideas about that," Tony cut in, and proceeded to explain his theory about the drone targeting range. Bruce listened intently, scribbling notes as he usually did and giving the occasional nod.
"Yeah, yeah, that makes sense," Bruce said once Tony was done. "And it pretty much corresponds to where Clint and Nat wanted to head next. They were planning on starting on the southernmost tip of Florida and working their way up. Nat said she's even gonna dye her hair blonde to try and disguise herself, so…"
"Okay, well, we've still got a few more days before the targeting range will be up to snuff," said Tony. "When were they planning on taking off?"
"I'm sure they won't mind waiting till the drones are done upgrading, especially if it cuts down on the search radius." Bruce paused, giving Tony a sympathetic look. "Steve's pretty tough, Tony, so you know he's not gonna go down without a fight. And he knows we'd never give up on him either, 'cause there's no way in hell he'd give up on any of us."
Tony gave a nod as he tried to take a sip of his coffee, barely managing to avoid spilling it all over his lap.
"No, he sure wouldn't, big guy," he said, his lower lip trembling. Not too long before he was taken, Steve had given the team one of his famous Captain America pep-talks at the end of one of their training sessions, talking about how they all worked together as a synergistic system, the kind of system that was the most efficient and least likely to break down.
But now that synergistic system was missing its Captain, and Tony knew without a doubt that there was no way it would ever be the same again unless they found him.
Hold on, honey. We're coming for you.
"Thanks for walking with us, Dad," Gwen said as they arrived at the front doors of the school, where Peter could already see the dance going in full swing. He had managed to keep his composure through most of dinner, only getting a bit teary when Gwen asked him how Dad was doing. He tried to explain how hard it was for Dad with not knowing where Papa was or even if he was still alive, but who also felt like he had to hold himself together for Peter's sake.
And now Peter was getting ready to give Dad even more to worry about.
But it's for the best, Peter thought, almost angrily. HYDRA would see the whole team coming, and then—
He refused to finish the thought, choosing instead to thank Mr Stacy for escorting he and Gwen to the school.
"I'll pick the two of you up at ten after midnight, all right?" Mr Stacy said, giving Gwen a quick peck on the cheek. "Have fun!"
Peter offered Gwen his arm as they stepped through the doors, grateful that he'd at least remembered to bring his earplugs to help dull down the booming music. It was just after 8pm, which meant he had about forty-five minutes before he'd have to leave. He had purchased a cheap plane ticket to Savannah, Georgia during school earlier that day which departed from JFK Airport at 1030pm, so Peter was going to have to hustle in order to get there on time. He had already cloned his phone, hiding the duplicate underneath a loose floor tile in one of the boys' restrooms, and had stashed a change of clothes in his locker so he wouldn't have to wear his nice suit on the plane. His new black Spider-Man suit was already underneath his clothes, with the mask tucked down inside the neckline.
As long as he would be able to escape from Gwen without a huge scene, he should be okay.
They hadn't stepped more than a foot inside the gym when Peter heard Ned yelling their names. "Peter! Gwen! I'm so glad you guys are here!" Peter grimaced as Ned hurried over to them, an extra-wide smile on his face. "Wow, you guys look nice!"
"Thanks, Ned," Peter said, inwardly kicking himself. He had completely forgotten that Ned was going to be hanging around them while Betty was busy overseeing the festivities.
"So, you two wanna get some drinks?" Ned asked. "The punch is awesome here, it's even got real strawberries floating in it!"
"Sure Ned," said Gwen, with a rather exaggerated smile. "Peter?"
"Ah, sure." Peter's breath hitched when Gwen took his hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked over to the refreshments table. She was such an awesome girl, and he was already feeling horrible for having to ditch her.
He just hoped that she would be able to forgive him someday.
For once Ned wasn't exaggerating about the drinks, and as the three of them talked over punch and cupcakes, Peter actually found himself relaxing a little. Despite all of his ballet training with Auntie Nat, Peter preferred to stay on the sidelines during the fast songs while the more coordinated people tore up the dance floor, which Gwen thankfully didn't seem to mind.
It was 825pm when the lights dimmed and the music slowed to a ballad. Peter gulped as Gwen gave his arm a light tug, relieved when he noticed Betty hurrying towards Ned from across the gym. At least they would get one slow dance in before he had to leave.
"Um… do you wanna—?"
"Yes," Gwen said, nodding rapidly. "I'd love to dance with you."
"Oh, that's good," Peter breathed, his cheeks flaming hot. He set down his cup and took Gwen's hand, leading her over to the dance floor. As soon as they stopped Gwen wound her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his lapel as his arms curled around her slender waist and pulled her close. He closed his eyes as they began to sway back and forth, breathing in the incredible scent of her gorgeous hair and biting his lip to keep the tears in.
I'm so sorry, Gwen. I really hope that you won't hate me after tonight.
"Peter, are you all right?" Gwen whispered after a moment or two. "You seem… tense."
Peter huffed, his arms tightening around her as much as he dared, trying to focus on the burst of sensation sparkling across his chest than his upcoming secret mission. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this pleasantly warm.
"I'm definitely okay at the moment."
"Mmm," Gwen murmured. "Me too."
Another slow song began once the first one was over, and Peter breathed a slight sigh of relief, tucking Gwen as close as he could without being creepy, not wanting the warmth to end.
Maybe this is why Dad loves sitting on Papa's lap so much.
But the song ended all too soon, and Peter reluctantly released Gwen's waist, trailing his fingers down her arm to squeeze her hand. It was time.
"Um… I've gotta—I need to use the bathroom, so—"
"Oh, it's okay," Gwen said with a rather quick nod. "I'll just meet you back by the punch?"
"Yeah, ah, sure," Peter said. "Sounds good."
Peter turned away before he could say anything else, too afraid that Gwen would guess what he was planning to do. Dad and Papa had always told him that he was a terrible liar, which he supposed was a good thing. But it wasn't going to help him tonight.
At the edge of the gym, Peter took advantage of the teacher chaperones' distraction with students making out behind the bleachers to slip into the hallway, heading for his locker. He quickly changed his clothes, cringing as he stuffed his nice suit into his locker and slammed the door, hurrying towards the nearby boys' room where he'd hidden his cloned phone. It was the same restroom with the busted window where he used to sneak out for his Spider-Man patrols all those months ago, behind the tall set of bushes and still out of the sightline of Happy's security guards.
He had just finished activating the clone and rechecking the equipment in his backpack when he heard the bathroom door open and the clack, clack, clack of a pair of hard-soled shoes on the floor. Peter froze, gasping as Gwen suddenly came into view, her green eyes going briefly wide before narrowing again.
"I knew it," she said softly. "I just knew something was up. You've been acting off all night tonight, so I just—"
"Gwen!" Peter finally choked out, his fight or flight response obviously lagging behind a second or two. "Aahh, what're—what're—what're you doing in here? This is a boys' bathroom!"
Gwen scoffed as she tilted her head, her hands on her hips. "Oh, and that's the weirdest thing going on right now? The fact that I'm in the boys' bathroom, and not that you're trying to sneak off to go and find your papa?"
"Well… yeah," Peter stammered, his head spinning. "No, wait, that's not—um… how'd you—wait, what?"
Gwen took a step forward, her expression morphing into sympathy as she placed her hand on Peter's arm. "I know, Peter. I know who you are, and I know what you're doing. I just… I just wish you would've told me."
Oh, shit! Peter thought in a panic. "Um… what do—um, what do you mean, you know?"
"I mean, I know, Peter," Gwen said again. "I know that you're Spider-Man."
Her words hit Peter like a blow to the chest, and he literally stumbled back a step. "Um… how—how do you think you know that? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that I've never said anything about being Spider-Man, and I know—well, um… so… how, exactly?"
Gwen gave him a rueful smile. "Well, I know I'm not the smartest person in the class, but I'm no dummy either. Your lightning-fast reflexes when I almost dropped my computer that one time? Your bad reaction to the peppermint in my mom's cake? The fact that I found your clothes at Liz's house that night of her party, and how you were able to save my dad's life when the movie theatre blew up? It all makes sense."
Oh, shit, she found my clothes? This wasn't supposed to happen!
"Okay, maybe, but—um… I still don't—" Peter paused as he shook his head, internally kicking himself.
"Look, Gwen," Peter said as he placed his hands on her waist. "I am so, so sorry. I know I've been a jerk to you sometimes, and it's even more jerky to just leave you like this, but I really, really gotta get going right now or this whole thing is gonna be shot to hell, so—"
He was cut off by Gwen's fingers brushing across his lips. "I know," she whispered. "I just wanted to tell you good luck, and to be careful. Please?"
All of Peter's emotions that were bubbling just beneath the surface finally boiled over, and he cupped Gwen's cheek in his hand, hesitating only long enough for her to nod before pressing his lips to hers in a kiss. It was absolutely not how he had imagined their first kiss would be, standing in the middle of a dark and stinky boys' bathroom during a school dance, but somehow, in all of the craziness that was his life at the moment, it seemed to be just perfect.
"Please," Gwen whispered once they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together. "Please be careful!"
"I will," Peter murmured. "And, Gwen, I gotta tell you, um… I… ah—"
"I know, Peter. I really like you too."
"Oh, that's good," Peter breathed. "That's really, really good." He quickly pecked her lips again, hating the fact that he had to tear himself away from her. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
Gwen gave a nod. "Okay."
Reluctantly Peter released her, watching as she exited the bathroom. Then he grabbed his backpack and opened the busted window latch, crawling out of the building. He took care to stay low and out of the streetlights until he was two blocks over, where he was able to hail a taxi and head for the airport.
He had a flight to catch.
Hold on, Papa. I'm coming for you.
DUM-E let out a rather mournful beep as he stopped next to Tony, a fresh cup of coffee attached to his appendage. Tony patted him as he took the cup, which was only about two-thirds full because of how much had spilled on the short trip from the coffeemaker over to Tony's workstation.
"Thanks, boy," Tony said as he took a sip, earning another beep as DUM-E returned to his corner, patiently waiting for when Tony needed him again.
Tony sat back down at his workstation, pinching the bridge of his nose as he attempted to force his exhausted eyes to stay open. He had sent Bruce back downstairs when he started nodding off into one of his notebooks, but Tony at least needed to stay awake until Peter got home from the dance.
And then, well… his occasional twenty-minute catnaps on the counter seemed to be working just fine for him lately, so…
He had just opened yet another of Bruce's notebooks when JARVIS spoke up.
"Pardon me, sir, but Chief and Miss Stacy are down in the Tower lobby and are requesting access to the penthouse."
"They are?" Tony said with a worried glance towards the clock. It was only around ten; the dance wasn't supposed to be over for another couple hours. "Is Pete with them?"
"Master Peter is not present, sir," JARVIS said. "I currently have his location marked at the school, but—"
"Then why the hell is his date for the dance here without him?" Tony snapped. "What the hell do they want?"
"Perhaps that question would be answered if you allowed them to come up to—"
"Then get 'em the hell up here!"
"Very good, sir."
His heart in his throat, Tony rushed into the living room, pacing back and forth and nearly jumping out of his skin as soon as the elevator doors opened. Stacy was wearing his cop uniform and Gwen was still in her dress from the dance, and looked as though she had been crying.
"Mr Stark, it's all my fault!" Gwen said before Tony could get a single word out. "I just let him go, and—"
"Where the hell is my son?" Tony demanded, finally finding his voice. "JARVIS says he's still at the school, but he's supposed to be with you."
"And he was, Mr Stark, until about an hour ago," Stacy said grimly.
"An hour?" Tony shrieked. He looked frantically between the father and daughter standing in front of him, trying to discern if they were lying. "He's been missing for an hour and you're just letting me know now?"
"But he's not missing!" Gwen cried. "Or at least, he doesn't think he's missing." She glanced up at her father, who gave her an encouraging nod. "You see, I found him… right before he got away, and—and I told him that I knew who he was and what he was trying to do, and—"
"You told him what?" Tony exclaimed. His fingers wrapped around his left forearm, squeezing hard. "You told him you knew who he was? What, are you talking in some kind of a teenage code or something?"
"She means she figured out that Peter is Spider-Man, Mr Stark," Stacy said. "And that he was leaving to go search for Captain Rogers."
Tony's eyes immediately went wide, then slammed shut as he fought the strong urge to grab Stacy by the scruff of his neck and slam him up against the wall until he told the truth.
"What in the goddamn hell are you talking about?"
Stacy gave him a sympathetic look. "It's true, Mr Stark. Gwen told me just before we came here that she figured it out quite a while ago."
"You did?" Tony asked, his belly swooping when he realised that he had just pretty much confirmed their suspicions.
"Yes, she did," Stacy said gently. "Just like I did after the incident at the theatre."
"Oh God." Tony breathed in a shaky breath, still holding his forearm. "And yet you didn't turn him in?"
Stacy shook his head, rather proudly. "No, I didn't. And not only because he saved my life."
"Yeah, okay, but none of this explains where the hell he is now!" Tony looked over at Gwen, whose cheeks were wet with tears. "You saw him leave?"
"No, not exactly," Gwen said. "And he didn't tell me where he was going, just that he needed to leave right then or his whole plan would be ruined. But he did admit that he was going to search for his papa."
Tony flinched at the mention of Steve, and he grabbed onto the back of the couch, trying to keep himself from tipping over.
He must've found something new, something he thought he couldn't share with the rest of us, Tony thought. Oh Christ, Pete, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now?
"I'd—I'd like to help you, Mr Stark, if—if I can," said Gwen. "Maybe if I could take a look at Peter's computer or something we could figure out where he's gone?"
"And once we do, I've got some friends in the FBI who are ready to help," said Stacy. "As well as myself."
Tony scoffed, his head spinning. "FBI. It was the goddamn FBI who took my husband away, so if you think that I'm gonna trust—"
"I would trust these agents with my life, Mr Stark," Stacy interrupted. "No, I'd trust them with my daughter's life. They are ready and willing to help, all we only have to give the word. I swear it."
He swears it. But does that really mean anything anymore?
"Okay, but I'm not sure that a few FBI agents are gonna be enough against what I'm afraid we'd be up against," Tony said softly.
"Maybe not, but they would at least be a start," Stacy insisted. "And I also have plenty of police colleagues down in D.C. who would be more than happy to start making some arrests if we could gather enough evidence to justify them." He stepped forward, offering Tony his hand. "We want to help you, Mr Stark, you just have to let us."
Tony stared at the police officer's hand, his lower lip shaking as he tried to decide what to do. He needed to find Peter ASAP, before HYDRA had a chance to get their hands on him. He was assuming that Peter took off on his own because he thought that it would be easier for a single person to sneak in to wherever they were holding Steve than an entire team, but… still…
He's only a kid, goddamnit! My kid!
Our kid.
"All right," Tony said as he shook Stacy's hand. He glanced down at Gwen, her green eyes glassy but determined. "You good at keeping secrets?"
"I am, Mr Stark," said Gwen. "I promise."
"Good," Tony said firmly. "Then let's get started."
I can't wait to see what you think! Please don't hesitate to leave me a review! :)