Peter Parker had thought he knew his work partner quite well. He had been working with James for over five months now and had gotten used to his quirks and habits. He knew James woke up at five every morning to go for a run, sometimes stealing some food if he went through a market or past a stall. It wasn't that James got hungry, he just had a habit of grabbing things. Peter knew most of the food James liked he hadn't tried until eight months previously and that James was constantly forgetting he was allergic to strawberries and blueberries because he'd never needed to remember before. He knew James could be rude and uncaring, and often didn't see the point in telling a lie, even if it spared someone's feelings.

Peter knew James really cared for his friends, and had formed an attachment to them almost instantly. He knew James video called Sophie everyday if he could and Howie every other day. Peter had spoken to the girls once and had realised how awkward James had been around Lizzie, though both of them did seem to try and chat. Bruce Banner rang the office once a week and Peter had picked it up once, talking to Bruce and his handler, an Agent Romanoff.

But all these things he knew about James didn't explain why he and Howie had decided to rent the most expensive three-bed room in the motel and were currently in bed together. Peter was holding food when he walked in, paid for with money James and Howie had stolen. He should be mad but, considering the amount of food he had been able to get, he couldn't be too upset.

'What are you doing?' He said, raising an eyebrow at the two boys. They were both ready for bed, which meant they were both shirtless, and were tucked under the covers of Howie's bed. They were too close, too affectionate for pre-teen boys who hadn't even known each other a year, even if they hadn't known anyone else beforehand.

James pointed at the computer across both their knees. 'Planning for Christmas. We finished figuring out how we'll get around the base.'

'And it required you to be under the covers?'

Howie shrugged. 'We got cold.'

'Put a shirt on then.'

The younger boys looked at each other, as if shocked that neither of them had thought of that. Peter rolled his eyes.

'Get some sleep, boys.' He said, putting the food next to Howie's bag. 'We need to leave early tomorrow, so we can get to Florida quickly.'

James yawned, rolling out of the bed and hitting the floor. Howie laughed shortly, disconnecting his arm. He put it to the side with his leg and looked up at Peter.

'Talking of Christmas, do you want to come? We'll be in New York, the tower has enough floors ready.'

Peter shrugged, getting into his own bed. 'Can my aunt come?'

'Does she know about your alter ego?' James said, pulling his covers over him. 'We don't have no secrets in Avengers tower.'

'No, she doesn't.' Peter frowned.

'Well, you should tell her.' Howie yawned, turning the light off beside him.

'I'll think about it.' Peter nodded, turning the other light off. The three of them went silent, all drifting off into sleep.

Peter and Howie tossed and turned all night, neither speaking because they thought the other was asleep. James, on the other hand, went out quickly, falling into an easy, deep sleep. Howie stared up at the ceiling, thinking of his dad, wondering where he was and what the boys were going to do when they found him. Part of Howie wanted to just join his mother and other mutants, rather than stay with his father. But he had only known Clarice for a day and still loved his dad more. He wanted to stay with Tony, to stay a kid for as long as possible.

'No! Leave me alone!'

Howie and Peter sat up, Peter struggling to turn on the light. James was in his bed, eyes still closed but the rest of his body on edge. He was thrashing about, his muscles straining and skin stretching slightly. A faint green tinge was spreading over his skin, starting from his heart.

Howie jumped out of his bed, shaking James quickly, even as the younger boy began to screaming. Howie grabbed his shoulder, pushing him down and shouting his name.

'James! James, wake up, its a nightmare!'

James' eyes flew open, a tremendous storm of brown and green. Howie stared right back at him, his own darker green irises boring into James'. The younger boy finally relaxed, breathing heavily.

'Same dream?' Howie muttered.

'What colour?' James said, staring up at Howie. The look on the Stark boy's face showed it was the dream he thought it was.

'Green and brown, buddy. Nope, just brown. You're okay, Jim, remember?'

James nodded, scrambling out of his bed, pulling his phone out of his bag. He tapped in a few buttons, holding the phone to his ear. He walked off towards the bathroom, wiping his eyes as he went. He was still shaking but, as he passed Peter, the other boy was happy to see only brown in his eyes.

'Papa?' James muttered, voice quivering. 'Oh hey, Natasha, is my Papa there? I really need to speak to him.'

James' voice trailed off as he shut the door behind him, Howie slumping as soon as it closed.

'What was that about?' Peter said with a raised eyebrow.

'He gets nightmares.' Howie shrugged, climbing into his own bed. 'Another him with blue eyes attacking him. They've been getting worse, I think, but he won't tell me much more than that.'

Peter glanced at the closed door. 'Should we...?'

'No.' Howie shook his head, gesturing for Peter to get back into bed. 'He'll be fine, he just needs space. I'm surprised he didn't tell you about it.'

Peter shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as he turned the light off. Truth was he hadn't known about it, not a single thing and he had worked with James for four months, had spent numerous nights around James' house without him reacting like that.

If he didn't know about that, what else were the small heroes keeping from him.

James looked up at the huge building in front if him, ignoring the two people either side of him. Both were watching him out of the corner of their eyes, trying not to pity him. James, struggling not to yawn, just stared at the building, hoping they could get on with their mission with the older boys trying to give him therapy.

'Doesn't look like a terrorist's base, does it?' James said, looking sideways at Howie. 'You sure this is the right place?'

The twelve year old nodded, frowning slightly. 'It's got to be. Everyone ready?'

James nodded, although there wasn't really much he could do to get ready. Howie had a repulsor glove on his left hand and his suit's boots on each foot. His hair was tied back in a small bunch, keeping it out of his face. Peter had his Spiderman uniform on under his clothes, his web slingers ready to work. James was just in his regular clothes, a spare set in Howie's bag. Like his dad, he didn't get a suit.

'As ready as I'll ever be.' Peter said from James' other side. 'Let's go.'

Peter put a hand on James' back, pushing him forward gently. James rolled his eyes, shrugging Peter off and followed Howie in, leaving his shoes behind. He walked across the tiles silently, glancing back at Peter to confirm the teenage was coming. Peter tucked James' shoes out of the way and followed the other two. He pulled his hood over his head and James rolled his eyes, stepping into the building after Howie.

'Shouldn't there be guards around?' James hissed at Howie, looking down at the heart rate monitor on his wrist. It didn't always trigger a transformation but a high heart rate was never good for James, especially in enclosed spaces.

'Probably.' Howie whispered back. 'But this is the least used entrance, according to FRIDAY.'

'I hate your AI sometimes.' James grumbled. 'I want one.'

Howie grinned over his shoulder, winking at James. Behind them, Peter rolled his eyes.

'We need to find somewhere to hide. We got lucky no one was there.'

The younger boys nodded, James raising an eyebrow at Howie. The older of the two adjusted his glasses, James copying out of habit.

'There should be a ventilation shaft a couple corridors down. You guys alright with climbing through the vents?'

James scoffed. 'It's cramped and annoying but we all know you don't mind it, don't we. Lets get on with this.'

Peter frowned, pinching James's shoulder as Howie's face dropped slightly. James barely glanced back at Peter, not thinking what he said was too bad. If it was, he was sure Howie would have been more upset or at least said something.

'This way.'

James resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Howie's clipped tone. Okay, so maybe Howie was a bit mad, but he could at least grow up and say something about it. James stopped slightly, rubbing his forehead and blinking rapidly. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

Peter pushed past James when the curly haired boy didn't move. Peter pulled on James' shirt, pulling him after Howie. James looked up, tugging on Peter's sleave.

'Should I apologise?' He muttered, not wanting Howie to hear. He couldn't believe he had said that.

'Yes.' Peter said, not looking back but slowing so he could wrap an arm around James' shoulders. 'But not now. Apologise later, when we're not in a terrorist base.'

James smiled sadly, Peter's grip around his shoulders tightening slightly. They enter the corridor Howie was in, the billionaire's son looking up at an open vent.

'Ready to experience cramped and uncomfortable?' He said, tilting his head sideways. James winced, shrugging slightly. Howie shook his head, jumping up to grab the opening. He missed, landing with a small crash.

James froze, eyes widening. Beside him, Peter looked around, scowling.

'Someone's coming.' They said at the same time, James rushing forward to help Howie up. The older boy complained as he was lifted to the opening, but pulled himself up anyway.

Howie was only just out of sight when someone shouted behind James. 'Hey, you two! Don't move!'

Peter growled, slinging a web at them. James pulled his backpack, which carried his share of their supplies and jumped up, gripping the ledge with one hand. Howie tried to help him up but James threw the bag at him, forcing him back down the vent. Something pulled at James' ankle and he kicked out, dropping down to fight.

He punched the person nearest him as soon as he landed, ducking as Peter swung over his head. James couldn't transform, because Howie was in the vents and transforming would probably kill him. But he could utilise some of the Monstrosity's strength, enough to do some serious damage.

He ran forwards, charging through the men lining the corridor. Behind him, Peter cried out but, when James looked, he seemed to be managing fine, having trapped six people in webs. Slightly distracted, James turned to punch again, eyes widening when the woman he was aiming for simply grabbed his fist, twisting his arm backwards painfully. James screamed as something snapped, falling to his knees. His knuckles were burning and he had to calm down. He couldn't transform. Couldn't endanger his friends.

Something hit his back and he groaned, collapsing forward. He heard Peter shouting behind him and tried to turn but something jammed into his neck. He tried to swing his good arm backwards but he was sluggish, something seeping through his blood. He tilted his head, seeing Peter collapse as someone injected something into his arm.

James could just see someone look into the vent as his world went black.

'Nothing.' The voice at the entrance of the ventilation shaft said. 'Whoever they were with, they're gone now.'

Howie waited a few moments, until he heard the grate being moved back across. He uncurled, his pulse slowing and the portals either side of him disappearing. He breathed heavily, grateful for the amount of noise James and Peter had made while fighting. He had been able to grab James' bag, scramble to the end of the vent, turning the corner and keep himself out of sight. In his panic, he had thrown the bag away from him but the portals had appeared around him, the bag landing at his feet.

Howie slowly picked up the bag James had thrown at him, moving it onto his back slowly. He didn't always understand James, who would change between kindness and spitefulness very quickly, but Howie wasn't going to waste the chance he had been given. He tapped his glasses, a map of the vents appearing on the screen. He pulled himself through the vents, wincing when his boots dragged against the metal. He lifted his feet up, dragging himself along on his knees. He thought of Natasha, when she was pretending to be Natalie, crawling into the vaults to talk to him.

He followed the map, dragging himself along. He wasn't sure where FRIDAY was taking him but he trusted the AI. The map stopped, FRIDAY quietly telling him to wait.

'I wouldn't go in there for twenty minutes.'

Howie's eyes furrowed and he tried to look through the vent. A woman, lying on the bed below, glanced up at him and he shot backward again, heart racing. Closing his eyes he concentrated again, cursing when he couldn't get a portal to appear long enough. He could still hear the man talking but he couldn't place the accent and had no idea who he was. The woman hadn't said anything about Howie being there but the boy wasn't going to risk taking another look.

'There's some guy over there..."

Howie froze but the grate didn't shift, suggesting the people weren't coming for him.

'Hey!'

'Bloody hell, bloody hell.'

'Don't move.'

Howie's brow furrowed and he slowly moved up so he could glance down. As soon as he had looked, he ducked down again, biting his fist to stay silent. His dad was down there, his dad was alive! Howie grinned to himself but forced himself to listen again, needing to know what was going on. If all was safe, he'd reveal himself and help his dad.

'You're not him.' Tony said and Howie rolled his eyes. He had been saying that for ages. 'The Mandarin, the real guy. Where? Where is he? Where's the Mandarin?!'

'He's here, he's here.' The man said and Howie had another look, brow furrowing. The man below was the Mandarin, at least the one from the videos. But he had a different accent and a much less confident demeanor. 'But he's not here. He's here but he's not here.'

'What do you mean?' Tony said, holding a gun.

'It's complicated, hey, it's complicated, alright?'

'It is?' Tony said, clearly getting angry.

'It's complicated.'

'Uncomplicate it.' Tony snarled. 'Ladies, out. Get out of the bed, get into the bathroom. Sit.'

The man sat down and Howie shuffled back again. He pressed a button on his ear piece, starting the recording system.

'My name is Trevor, Trevor Slattery.'

'What are you?' Tony said. 'What're you a decoy? You're a double, right?'

'What? No.'

'An understudy?'

'Absolutely not.' Trevor said, apparently offended. 'Don't hurt the face! I'm an actor.'

'You got a minute to live, fill it with words.'

'It's just a role. "The Mandarin", see, it's not real.'

'Then how did you get here, Trevor?'

Howie almost laughed at the irritation in his dad's voice. Tony had never dealt well with surprises, too used to JARVIS knowing everything about anything.

'Um, well, uh, I have a little problem with, um, substances, and I ended up doing things... no two ways about it.'

'Next!'

'Then, they approached me about the role and they knew about the drugs.' Trevor said, not sounding that worried about Tony.

'What'd they say they'd get you off them?'

'Said they'd give me more.' Trevor said nonchalantly. 'They gave me things. They gave me this palace. They gave me plastic surgery. They gave me things.'

Howie tapped his ear piece, whispering to FRIDAY. 'Find out about Trevor Slattery. Give me an image.'

As it was loading, he heard Trevor continuing. Howie scowled when he realised he had missed part of the conversation.

'And the thing was, he needed someone to take credit for some "accidental explosions".'

'"He"?'

'Killian.'

'Killian. He created you?'

Howie frowned, unbelieving of his family's luck. If he'd known Killian was behind the fake Mandarin, he'd have been a lot more polite when they met.

'He created me.' Trevor said, almost proudly. 'Custom-made terror threat. His think tank thinked it up, the pathology of the serial killer. The manipulation of Western iconography. Ready for another lesson? Blah blah blah. Of course, it was my performance that brought the Mandarin to life.'

'Your performance? Where people die?' Tony said, losing his cool slightly.

'No, no, look around you, costumes, green screen. Honestly, I wasn't on location for half this stuff, and when I was, movie magic, love.'

Howie growled and he heard Tony echoing him.

'I'm sorry but I got a best friend who's in a coma and he might not wake up.' Tony said, voice clipped. 'So you're going to have to answer for that. You're still going down, pal.'

There was a click, then a thump and Howie's brow furrowed. He pulled himself up and glanced down. His dad was unconscious and a man was standing opposite Trevor. Howie cursed internally, sliding back out of sight. He rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses up and ignoring the information on the screen.

'Okay, Trevor, what'd you tell him?'

'I didn't tell him anything.'

'Nothing?'

'No.'

Howie sighed, knowing he wouldn't learn anymore and he couldn't help his dad.