Chapter 5

With the doctor close on his heals, Peter lead the way through the halls with the tranquilizer gun held loosely in his hands. His aunt Tasha and uncle Clint had been sure to teach him to shoot, but that didn't mean he liked the feel of it.

"Where's the nearest exit?" Peter whispered, and the doctor could only give a terrified shake of his head.

"I don't know. We were never allowed to leave and we were brought in much the same way you were." he paused, clearly embarrassed. "Though perhaps in better physical condition." Peter managed a smirk, glancing around a corner and jerking back when bullets zipped down the hall in his direction. Careful of his injuries, he crouched and turned the corner, pulling the trigger in a quick burst of three, watching the three opponents falling, only to be replaced by three more who fired in their place.

"Do we have anymore of those darts?" he asked, but the doctor shook his head.

"Not unless the soldiers have some on them, but I find it highly improbable. They tend to prefer the fatal sort of weapon." Peter's expression was grim as he nodded, shifting his grip on the now useless weapon. He waited until the burst of fire paused and then spun back around the corner, tossing the gun and smirking when it hit the lead man in the head, knocking him back just as he reached them, flying into action. He ignored the burn as he forgot his promise not to use his extra strength and speed, taking down the three men in quick succession. This time, he grabbed a fully loaded handgun, and checked to make sure it had a full clip of rounds. He was relieved to see it was only missing a single round and called back to the doctor.

"All clear up here. Let's get out of here."

"Not so fast." the sound of a trigger being pulled had Peter jerking to a halt, expecting pain, what he didn't expect was to see the doctor who'd helped him fall limply into the hall behind him, and Peter stood, eyes wide, as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent stepped into view. "It's a pity he chose to help you. He really was quite brilliant." Peter registered that the agent was approaching, and stepped back, releasing the safety on the gun as he lifted it to aim. "Come on, kid. This is your third attempted escape. Do you really think we'll let you get away that easily? Put the gun down before we have to hurt you again." Peter just glanced away and noticed that the next hallway was four feet behind him and to his left.

"Actually this is only my second real attempt, and I like to think I only fail once." Now that he had the weapon in his hand, he felt his resolve to kill weaken, and so instead he shot at the fluorescent light, watching it explode as he dove backwards, heading for the hallway. The agent shot at him despite the distraction, and he slammed into the far wall of the hallway and luckily out of range with a grunt of pain. He moved away from the wall and didn't miss the smear of blood. He could feel the bullet lodged in his bicep, and he was just glad that it hadn't hit anything vital as he hurried forward. He was really tired of this whole regular guy thing.

"I am never taking the suit off again." he muttered, pausing at the next corner. He was getting dizzy, which made no sense. He wasn't loosing that much blood – he glanced at his arm and noticed the dark veiny pattern that was beginning to spread from the bullet wound and cursed. Was it poisoned? And with what? He felt himself growing dizzy, and slumped against the wall, shaking his head as if to clear it.

"Don't worry, it's not fatal." he heard the agent say, and when he glanced over, he saw two of everything.

"What did you do?"

"It's a hallucinogenic. No big deal. You'll just be a bit woozy. Come here." he was yanked off the wall, a gun pressed to his temple. "No sudden movements, kid. It's time this little field trip came to an end. All we need is the Cap's blood and Dr. Banners, but lucky for us, I managed to get a sample of the good doctor's blood out while I was still at S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm assuming Stark locked me out of the database as soon as he heard my voice, voice recognition and all that, but luckily I already have what I need from S.H.I.E.L.D.. Now all we need is you since they clearly didn't follow through by trying to break in, and I always make good on my promises." he pulled Peter along, and Peter managed to stay on his feet, his vision already starting to clear though the pain in his body was becoming more apparent. That's when they came into view of his pops. The Captain was fighting with all the grace he always did, every move precise and effective, and Peter couldn't help but be awed as he always was when he saw his dad fight.

Steve caught sight of them the moment the last soldier dropped, and turned to face who he assumed was the agent from the call holding his bruised and bloody son from behind, a gun pressed to the brown wiry hair curled ever so slightly at his temple. He didn't recognize the man's face, but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He knew the sort of training S.H.I.E.L.D. agents received.

"Hey Papa," Peter said, using the title from when he was a child instead of the 'pops' he seemed to prefer lately, it only clued Steve in to how vulnerable his son was at this moment.

"Agent," Steve addressed, eyes never leaving the man holding his son, "Let the boy go and we'll turn you into the authorities." the agent let out a chuckle, jolting Peter with the action and making the youth give a hiss of pain.

"Turning me into the authorities isn't exactly a win for me, is it? No. The higher ups want your blood, Captain. Until we have it, your boy isn't going anywhere." Steve met his sons gaze, and saw Peter's gaze flicker towards the ground. He was going to drop, and Steve had to be ready to knock the gun out of the agents' hand. Before Peter could move though, the man let him go, not removing the gun, but pulling a device from his pocket. "This is my insurance." he informed them. "It's a trigger that does two things. One, it triggers an explosion from certain rounds, one of which is currently embedded in your sons arm. The second thing it does is send a signal – a signal that the heroes are here. That brings down a whole new group of specialists just dying for a chance to take out some of you heroes." he lowered the gun, now that they knew he didn't need it to hurt Peter, and reached into another one of the multitude of pockets on his uniform, pulling out a kit to draw blood. He tossed it at the Captain with a smug smile. "So what you're going to do is draw your blood, and then toss the vile back over this way. Once you've done that, I'll give young Peter here the detonator for the bomb in his arm. I'll give you thirty seconds." Without hesitation, Steve unwrapped the package, yanking up his sleeve and sliding the needle under his skin. They all watched as it filled with the crimson liquid and he pulled the needle out, twisting the vile with his blood off and capping it with the lid in the package. He looked at his son who was watching grimly, before tossing the vile. What he didn't expect, was for Peter to catch it. His son moved so quickly he could barely follow the motion with his eyes, watching as the blood was snatched out of the air and he son hit at the arm holding the trigger, knocking it out of the agents hand. The agent cursed and kicked Peter down, the boy skidding across the floor. The captain threw his shield but the agent ducked, ready for it, and as the man lifted the gun, he realized he wouldn't be able to get there in time to stop him. The sound that rang out next was not a gunshot, and both father and son looked up as the agent dropped, gaping hole in his chest, to see the third member of their makeshift family hovering in the air.

"Dad." Peter breathed, smile gracing his lips.

"Hey kiddo. Miss me?" Peter nodded before he was scrambling for the detonator, fingers shaking as he pulled the back off and yanked a wire out of the system. Then he gave a hysterical little laugh and fell back, relieved. He was no longer about to lose a limb.

"Tasha, Clint, we've got him. We're coming up."

"Got it. Be careful Cap, got a call from Bruce, apparently there's a whole new group of the soldiers on their way. We need to get out of here, and stat."

"Copy that." they heard Natasha say, and with a nod at Tony who moved ahead to make sure they weren't stopped by anyone, Steve helped Peter off the ground, leading the way to the exit.

"So, what took you guys so long?" Peter joked, and though Steve gave him a look that said he wasn't amused, his smile didn't drop, though it did become a bit watery.

"Hey, you're one to talk. This is what you get for calling your aunt instead of one of us." his dad snapped, and Peter managed to role his eyes as they made it to the stairwell, his pops all but carrying him up as they ran.

"Only because I knew she wouldn't throw a fit if she knew something was wrong."

"Told you." Natasha said, appearing behind them as they ran, and Peter smirked. "Glad to see you all in one piece, Peter."

"Me too. Came a bit close at one point." he gave her a wan smile over his pops' shoulder. "I also have a whole new respect for your little electric things." though she gave a tight smile, all three adults were tense, none too happy that the youth had experienced that sort of pain, let alone any pain at all. They made it to the top and were met by Clint swinging out of the rafters, leading to the car, sharp eyes watching for any signs of danger. Peter was slid into the backseat and Natasha waved Steve in after him.

"I'll bring your bike back." Steve nodded, tossing her the keys, and before she'd even caught them, the car was tearing away from the curb. Steve turned all his attention on his son now, who was leaning against the back of the seat, eyes closed as Clint steered the vehicle away.

"Peter?" Peter opened his eyes at the sound of his pops voice, giving him a wary smile.

"I'm okay pops," he assured, though he knew he probably looked the opposite. "Let's just get home, yeah? You can berate me for trying to be a hero and getting caught later." it was said with a smile that meant he would take no offence to the lecture, and Steve just reached out, giving his sons hair a gentle ruffle.

"Alright, we can wait till we get back and Bruce's had a look at you." Peter nodded and then leaned back in the car, eyes closed once more. He really wasn't a huge fan of the whole regular guy thing, but he was glad his parents were who they were, because when he couldn't save himself, he knew they'd always be there to save him instead.