Prompt: Tony has to fight a brainwashed Peter

Nearly everyone thought Tony should give up.

Bruce was the first to say it aloud, at least where he could hear, and even though part of Tony hated him for that, another part of him, underneath all the pain, could almost understand. He knew that it was hard to see him like this. He knew that none of them wanted to give up, but that giving up was easier. That moving on was what most people would be expected to do after four months. But when the words came out of Bruce's mouth, Tony nearly shattered the glass he was holding. Instead of answering the reasonable point that it had been four months with no sign of the boy, Tony had stood from the kitchen island, leaving the glass full of whiskey on the countertop, reminding himself that he didn't want to fight with Bruce…and that he didn't drink anymore.

Natasha was a little less direct, keeping him updated on their seemingly-fruitless search in between spending time with Clint's family, helping out wherever she could. He didn't begrudge her that…truly he didn't. He heard Sam and Bucky discuss it with one another, voices low but just loud enough to carry from the living room when he was passing by, on his way to his lab after tucking Morgan into bed. Morgan, who never stopped asking where her big brother was. Sometimes he wondered what Steve would have said if the man hadn't fucked off to the past and left them all to it.

It took May six months to suggest a funeral, her voice obviously slurred on the phone. That night he hadn't answered, just sent Pepper over to be with her.

Tony hadn't even been there. Hadn't been with Peter when the kid had been taken. And there was no trail. Spider-Man had simply swung into a an alley and never come out. All video surveillance had been wiped the moment he'd entered the alley, mask focused on something Tony hadn't been able to see in the footage. Someone had taken him and his suite and they'd wiped the baby monitor footage, a term that had always made Peter roll his eyes, both before and after the snap…both before and after being gone for five full years.

Tony had just gotten him back. He'd only gotten another year with his boy and now…

He clenched the hand of his metal arm into fist tightly enough that it actually hurt. The prosthetic was some of Shuri's best work, and even though he appreciated the full range of motion he now had, he'd give it all back, go back to that battlefield where he'd been sure he was going to die, every nerve in his body screaming out in pain, if only he could have Peter back.

How could he move on again? How was he supposed to survive losing his son for the second time? How was he supposed to explain to Morgan that her big brother was gone again. That this time, they were going to hold a funeral that she could attend and that they all had to say goodbye when they didn't even know…Tony dropped his head into his flesh and blood hand and closed his eyes as tightly as he could, doing everything he could to fight the tears. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. Around him, his lab was in chaos, papers thrown in the corner and things swept out of the way and onto the floor to make room for frantic work…desperate searching and even more desperate begging screaming praying…anything to get his kid back.

Tony had been in the lab for eight hours when Morgan came down, running down the steps in her little footie pajamas and sobbing, crying out for him. Why hadn't Friday told him that she needed him.

Brushing away his own tears as best he could, the ones that fell only when he was in the lab alone, Friday on alert for visitors, he turned to her, slipping off the stool and trying to push thoughts of her brother away. "Hey..Morguna, what's wrong?" he asked, kneeling down to scoop her up, an action made easier by the metal arm.

"He…he's mad…at me!" The six-year-old sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder, and Tony felt a surge of protectiveness go through him as instinctual as his desperation to find Peter.

"Who's mad at you, baby?" he asked, going through his mind to remember who all was at the tower. He knew that Nat was around, probably training with Sam and Bucky. Otherwise, the place was empty. Pepper was in a meeting…or…had been? He checked his watch. Had been in a meeting. Now she was probably…had she tucked Morgan into bed? Where was Pepper? Who would be angry at Morgan? His brain was fuzzy from a lack of sleep and he vaguely remembered Pepper bringing him a plate of dinner earlier. One glance at the table by the door confirmed that…and it was still there, still covered by a plastic dome.

"Peter!"

The name brought him up short like it did every single time he heard it from another person's mouth. For a moment, fresh agony ripped through his chest and he had to close his eyes and breathe through it. Peter. Peter. Peter. "What? Why do you think he's mad at you?" Tony wondered if she'd had a nightmare…or if she'd just upset herself while playing a game of pretend. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened…although never with Peter. Morgan never thought Peter was upset with her.

"He told me to go away! He looked really strange but I was happy to see him after so long so I tried to hug him but he looked at me and he was shaking and he told me to go away!"

Tony's arms shook as they held his crying daughter against his side. "Baby…" he started, his voice a whisper. "It's really important that you tell me the truth about something, okay?"

She sniffed and gave a quick nod.

"Did you pretend to see Peter, or did you really see him?"

Morgan wiped a hand over her eyes which had gone wide and earnest. "I really saw him. He's upstairs."

"Friday?" Tony asked, looking up, but there was no response. "Fri?"

"I couldn't get Friday to talk to me," she whispered.

"Okay…" Tony swallowed hard, putting her down on the sofa. "Okay, baby…I'm going to go see what's wrong with Peter," he murmured, chest aching as he spoke. "Can you stay here?"

"Why was he mad at me?"

"I don't know…" Tony backed away, pointing to the couch. "You stay right there, okay?" The little girl gave a solemn nod. Turning and hurrying back toward the door, he shut it behind him, praying that his daughter would listen to him for once as he raced up the stairs.

Peter…how could Peter…surely the kid couldn't really…

Tony shook his head as he raced up the stairs. Why would Peter sneak into the tower? What had happened to him? What if it wasn't Peter? What if what if what if…

Tony burst through the door to the living quarters, eyes immediately landing on the boy standing by the sofa. The tears that came to Tony's eyes were immediate as they made his vision blur, something in him finally relaxing after so long. Peter. His boy. Peter was home! He took a staggering step forward, placing his metal hand against the wall. "Peter," he whispered, voice coming out a sob, but the kid, who stood with one hand resting on the sofa, head down, didn't look up. As Tony took another step, he realized that Peter was shaking, his whole body trembling. "Pete? Buddy…hey…it's okay. It's okay, buddy. You're home now." Tony took another step, then another, rushing to Peter's side and ignoring the usual aches that made movement painful now that he was old and now that half of his body was covered in scars. "You're okay. You're home. Can you tell me…" Tony choked on his words, jaw dropping when he got closer. "Pete?"

Peter's face was blank as he stared at the ground, lips pressed together, head bobbing up and down a little as he stood stiffly beside the sofa, fingers digging into the cushion.

"Peter?" Tony lowered his voice, reaching out, and as soon as his fingers made contact with his shoulder, Peter's head snapped up, turning to look at Tony with wide, suddenly-focused eyes. "Hey, Pete. It's me. It's Tony."

Those eyes, so uncomfortably blank, shifted for just a second, and Peter's jaw clenched, his whole body rigid as he seemed to fight something.

"Hey…why don't you sit down, buddy, and I can…"

And then the kid was a blur of motion, tackling Tony to the ground and bringing back a fist. Whatever had been in his eyes was gone, and they were back to blank…back to unseeing and almost dead, but it was only Tony's metal arm shoving himself to the side that stopped the kid's fist from slamming into his face. Instead, it embedded itself into the floor, and Peter's eyes followed Tony like a cat's eyes would track a mouse.

"Peter! Pete! Stop!" Tony cried, trying to sit up, bringing his metal arm up to catch Peter's fist. "Kid, please…I know this isn't…" The fist yanked away and a grunt was forced from Tony's mouth when it hit him in the side of the head, making him see stars. Again, the boy punched him, that same blank look on his face, and Tony cried out when he felt his nose snap.

But he wasn't dead. Peter could have killed him. He knew that. Peter was strong enough to kill him with a single punch.

Peter was fighting whatever this was.

"I know this isn't't you. It's okay. It's okay, Pete. Just fight it. Please, buddy, please you have to…" Tony flinched when the fist came back, bloodying his cheek and splitting the skin open there. Tony tried to catch his hand again, managing to hold him off for a second…

And then the weight was gone, and Tony blinked a few times, looking up to find Peter over on his side, and a familiar shield flew past him in a blur of motion, coming to a stop in Sam's hand. "What the hell, man?" The man asked, looking between them, gripping the shield as he watched Peter put a hand to his head, slowly pushing himself upright. "Is that…"

Peter turned to stare at Sam, zeroing in as he stood.

"Tony? What's wrong with him?"

"Brainwashed? I don't know. He just showed up like this." Tony wanted to say more…to explain that Peter hadn't hurt Morgan and that he had been holding back his strength, but he didn't have time before Peter was racing for Sam who was dressed in sweats and a tank top, his only weapon the shield that he held up, ducking out of the way of Peter's fist and slamming the shield into Peter's side.

"Snap the fuck out of it, kid!" Sam ordered, moving a fraction of a second too slowly, then going flying when Peter landed a kick to his ribs.

"Peter!" Tony managed to get himself to his feet, getting the kid's attention for just long enough that Sam could pick himself up, limping a little and pressing a hand to his ribs. "I know you can hear me. You have to fight, buddy. Please. You have to…"

Without letting Tony finish, Peter spun on his heels and went after Sam once more, leaping onto the wall, then springing off only to be hit head on with the shield, the vibranium bouncing off his skull and throwing him back into the wall that crumbled behind him. The sight made Tony's stomach curdle, and he stumbled forward, fighting the concussion he knew that Peter had given him. "No….Sam, don't hurt him!"

"Don't think I've got a choice, Tony!"

"What the hell?" Bucky appeared in the kitchen then, and Tony had never been so grateful to have the Avengers close. He stared down at Peter whose nose was busted open, blood covering his face, and turned to stare incredulously at Sam. "Did you…"

"Kid's brainwashed. Trying to kill us."

"We need a sedative!" Tony cut in as Peter pulled himself to his feet, eyes locked on Bucky and Sam. "I'll call Helen…she has to have something that can knock him out." But he barely had time to pull out his cell phone, leaning against the wall to keep himself upright, when Peter sprung again. Bucky and Sam stood shoulder to shoulder, Sam with his shield out and Bucky with his hand in a fist, but even Tony could see that Peter was too fast. He fumbled with his phone, scrolling for Helen's number as Sam brought the shield up, missing as Peter landed a blow to Bucky's temple, catching the metal arm and twisting hard until the whole thing was yanked off at the shoulder, making Bucky scream and stagger backward until he hit the wall. Sam threw the shield again, but Peter spun, hand outstretched, and caught the huge metal disk in his hand, fingers curling around the edge before tossing it aside.

Tony's heart skipped a beat when he saw the tiny dents along the edge in the shape of his fingers. Sam took a step back, watching Peter warily as he approached. "Come on, kid," the man muttered as Tony held the phone to his ear.

"Helen? I need something strong enough to put Peter to sleep. Right now. He's brainwashed."

"Pete? Look, I know you don't want to do this," Sam spoke softly, hands up. "We know this isn't your fault. We know that. You just have to fight it, okay?"

"I don't…I don't have anything at the tower. I'd have to bring it from the Compound…" Helen stammered a little, and he could hear her footsteps on the other line. "Do you have anything strong enough to contain him?"

Tony watched as Bucky staggered back to his feet, his one hand in the air. "Peter! Hey…I know it's hard. I know it feels impossible. But you gotta stop, okay? Just…Peter!"

The boy sprung at Sam, knocking the man's head against the wall as they both went down. Sam blinked, flinching when Peter pulled back a fist and landed a blow to his temple, then another. Eyes shut, Sam went limp, but Peter pulled his arm back again. Fumbling in his belt, Bucky pulled out a pistol and aimed.

"Peter! Get off him!"

"Don't! Don't shoot him!" Tony begged, the phone clenched tight in his flesh and blood hand. He'd just gotten him back. That was his boy…that was his son and someone had hurt him! Someone was making him do this!

"He's going to kill Sam!"

Peter hit the man again, then froze, shoulders shaking, fist poised in the air.

"Peter?" The tiny voice made everyone freeze, and they all turned to find Morgan standing in the doorway, tears in her eyes. "Peter?"

"Tony? Tony, I'm sending them in a suit! Two minutes!" He could barely make out Helen's tinny voice over the phone as he watched Morgan step into the room.

"Morgan! Go back to the lab!" Tony ordered in a voice that shook so hard he wasn't sure she could even understand him. None of them were fast enough to stop Peter if he went for her. Taking a slow step toward his daughter, Tony held his hands up. But Peter was staring at Morgan…not like he'd stared at the other's though.

Peter had first met Morgan in Tony's hospital room. Tony had been holding the girl in his arms, apologizing for being asleep for so long and wiping away her tears when Peter had stepped into the room, face healed of all the little cuts and bruises he'd gotten from the battle, dressed now in a t-shirt with the periodic table on it and a pair of jeans, no sign of the suit. For a moment, Peter had hesitated, starting to leave as though Tony wouldn't want him there, but Tony had reached out his one arm.

"Peter."

That's all it had taken for the boy to break down, dropping his face, tears streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders had shaken.

"Oh, buddy…come here. There's plenty of room."

Obligingly, Morgan had scooted over a little to make room for the stranger who had thrown himself into her father's arms, sobbing into his shoulder. "Mr. Stark….i thought you…I thought…"

"I'm just fine, Pete. Don't worry about me. It's going to take more than a couple of glowing rocks to take me down." Peter had snorted, shaking his head and trying to wipe his eyes, but Tony had just held him for a long time, blown away by the miracle of it all. And then, after a long time of hugging and crying, he'd introduced Peter to Morgan. "Pete, this is my little girl. Morgan, this is…"

"Spider-Man!" She'd cried, pointing at Peter. "Are you Spider-Man?"

Peter had blinked a few times before nodding, giving a soft, shy smile. "Yeah. That's me. Hi, Morgan."

"Daddy told me bedtime stories about you! He said you stopped a bad man called the Vulture, but that's a silly name because Vultures are birds!"

Peter had laughed a little, nodding. "Yeah. It was a silly name."

"And he said that you helped Daddy fight the really big bad man, but the really big bad man made you go away."

Peter had cleared his throat, giving a shaky nod. "He did…yeah….but he's gone now."

"And Daddy told me that you were like his kid which means you're my big brother!"

The kid had gone a little pale at that, and Tony had almost apologized. Had almost tried to explain. But then Peter had flushed a little, lowering his eyes. "Um…I guess…yeah. I kind of was…so…" Before he'd been able to finish, Tony had pulled him close again, pressing his lips to Peter's temple before Morgan had crawled over him, wrapping her arms around Peter's waist.

"I'm glad Daddy brought you back. I always wanted to meet my big brother."

"I'm glad too," Peter had whispered back, sitting on the bed and pulling her into his arms like she belonged there…just like Tony had held her a million times.

Now he stared at her, his whole body shaking, and Tony realized that Peter's mouth was moving. He was whispering. "No. No, no no….no, no, no…" He moved forward, then back, feet planted firmly on the ground, hands in fists at his sides.

"Peter?" Morgan asked again, taking another step.

"Morgan! Peter is…he's sick, okay? I need you to go back downstairs," Tony ordered, trying to make his voice firm. But Peter was staring at her, shaking his head and whispering over and over.

"No, no, no…"

Sam was still on the floor and Tony was frozen halfway between his son and his daughter. Bucky held the gun steady, all eyes on Peter as he fought, eyes staring right at his sister who seemed, somehow, to understand. Who stood stock still, her eyes meeting her brother's, her arms wrapped around herself.

And then Peter turned. Tony didn't know if Barnes made a noise…or maybe Peter just couldn't fight it anymore. Maybe he was desperate to get himself away from his sister. Either way, he crouched, eyes locked on Bucky.

"Peter…" Bucky almost whispered, breaking the trance, and Tony moved at the same time as Peter, the kid whirling around to face the super soldier, lunging just as the gun went off and Morgan's scream filled the air.

"No!" Tony's cry was like the cry of an animal, drowning out Morgan's and Peter's both. Peter hit the ground hard, head bouncing on the hardwood, and Tony practically flew to the boy's side, yanking his shirt off and putting pressure on his chest where a red stain was spreading. "No…no, no….Peter!"

Hazy brown eyes fluttered open, meeting Tony's for the first time. Lips trembling, Peter took in a wavering breath and let out a sob. "Tony?"

"Yeah…I'm here. I'm right here, baby. It's okay…you're okay."

"I…it's still…" He gasped, closing his eyes and keeping his hands pressed to the floor as he gasped for air. "Still wants me…to…."

"Who, kid?" Bucky demanded, hurrying to join them, and in some part of his brain, Tony was aware that Morgan was crying and he heard footsteps probably belonging to Pepper but all he could think about was Peter…his boy was bleeding on the floor, tears running down his cheeks, knuckles split open and bleeding.

"They…Hydra they…they said…I…no…no, no, no!"

Tony swore, watching the kid's hands form fists, something clouding his eyes.

"I…I can't…"

Just then, there was a crash, and one of the Iron Legion burst into the room. Tony leapt up, grabbing at the syringe that the suit held out, then, without bothering to explain himself, plunged the needle into Peter's neck. Slowly, Peter's body relaxed, eyes going back to the familiar soft brown, then fluttering shut, hands going lax. "There you go," Tony whispered, letting Barnes take over holding pressure on Peter's chest, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. "There you go, buddy. You rest. It's going to be okay. I've got you."

Pepper appeared then, and, seeing that Tony couldn't explain anything just yet, ushered Morgan off to bed. Tony pulled Peter into his arms, racing off to a car to get him to the Compound while Bucky saw to Sam. It was a tense thirty minute drive, with Tony sure that any moment Peter would wake up…would come back to his senses and attack, but Peter was still the whole time, never moving from his spot in the backseat, although the red stain on his chest grew by the minute despite the gauze taped over it. Bucky had missed everything vital, but Tony knew they had to get the bleeding under control.

In the end, Helen called Strange and Strange portaled Shuri in from Wakanda, but all Tony knew was that one moment he was placing Peter on a stretcher and watching him disappear through a set of double doors and twelve long, stressful hours later, he was being let back to Peter's side.

Peter was still under the blanket that was pulled up to his chest, a pulse monitor on one finger and a nasal cannula looped under his nose and over his ears. For a moment, Tony hesitated in the doorway, just watching him breathe. He'd gotten him back. Peter was alive and he was going to be okay. Taking a hesitant step into the room, he froze when Peter turned to look at him.

And then Peter was sobbing.

Tony barely noticed his feet moving. One moment, he was standing at the door. The next, his arms were wrapped carefully around his boy, a hand pressed to the back of his head, the other rubbing his back.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Tony. I tried…I tried to fight it! I tried…"

"I know. I know, baby. It's okay. I know that wasn't you."

"I hurt you!"

"Barely. I know you were holding back." In fact, Tony had needed three stitches and Helen had reset his nose, but that was neither here nor there. "I know you didn't mean to. You were fighting it. We could all see that."

"I wasn't strong enough…"

"You were. Pete…you didn't hurt Morgan."

Peter clutched the back of Tony's shirt, hiding his face in his shoulder. "I saw her….they wanted me to hurt her but..I couldn't! I couldn't hurt her! I yelled at her….she was scared!"

"I know. You did so good, Pete."

"I almost hurt her!" Peter cried, pulling away just enough to meet Tony's eyes, his own anguished and red-rimmed. Bloodshot. "I could have hurt her!"

"No you couldn't have. You would never hurt her, Peter. Just like you'd never hurt me or Bucky or Sam. That wasn't you, buddy. None of this was your fault."

Peter dropped his head against Tony's shoulder once more, and Tony knew that there was no way he was getting through to the kid, not yet, he sat down on the bed, then lay back against the pillows. He had Peter back. He had his son back. The rest would have to wait.