Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.

Warnings: Torture of a minor. Also, Deadpool.

"Sir, Mr. Wilson has arrived."

Steve sent Tony a look as JARVIS spoke up, not even ten minutes after Tony had gotten off the phone with whoever he'd called. He didn't know anyone with the last name of Wilson other than Sam, and last he checked, Sam was out flying around the city, searching. JARVIS also never told Tony when one of the team arrived back at the tower, to Steve's knowledge.

Steve had found Tony in his lab, searching through as many security cameras that he'd had JARVIS hack as possible, but had yet to find anything. He had decided to help, unsure of how else to help find Peter.

"Who is it?" he asked the other man.

Tony didn't respond, simply saying, "Send him up, J."

"Sir, he is already on his way."

"Already?" Tony sounded surprised.

"I couldn't stop him," JARVIS sounded disappointed. Steve was surprised.

There was a moment of silence before Tony took off to the elevator in a quick pace, Steve right behind him, "Tony. Tony! Who is here?"

Steve didn't have much patience at the moment. He was stressed and on the verge of freaking out. He didn't have time for Tony's games.

The man didn't answer him until they were in the elevator.

"Look, he can help us," Tony said simply. He sounded oddly nervous.

"Tony," Steve spoke dangerously.

"He's dangerous," Tony said slowly, "And more than a little annoying, but he's good at finding people."

The elevator opened and Steve stepped out, about to demand Tony to tell him who it was. Before he could, though, he was faced with Natasha holding a gun to a man dressed in a red suit that was a bit similar to Spiderman's, though not exactly.

The man did not seem at all concerned by the gun, or the fact that the woman behind it was a highly trained assassin.

"Deadpool," Tony said. His voice was icy. Steve could immediately tell that he didn't like this Deadpool guy very much. Yet, he was the one who called him. Odd.

"Ah, tin-can," Deadpool spoke cheerfully, "Got your call! Glad you finally decided to put me on the Avengers."

Tony quickly shook his head, "No. No way. This is a one-time thing, Deadpool."

The man, Deadpool, put his hands on his hips and, despite wearing a mask, managed to look rather offended, "I'm hurt, Stark. I thought we were besties."

Tony stared at the man for a long moment, looking like he was trying very hard not to pull out his suit and pummel the man into oblivion.

"Tony," Steve spoke after a long moment of silence, "Please explain."

Tony did not get a chance to as Deadpool suddenly began jumping up and down, "O.M.G!" he shouted excitedly, clapping his hands, "It's Captain American!"

He raised his eyebrows at Tony, who simply shrugged.

Deadpool continued and held out his hand, "Merc with a mouth, at your service."

Reluctantly, Steve shook his hand. Deadpool stared at his hand as if it had just been blessed by God.

"Deadpool is a mercenary," Natasha suddenly spoke up, "He'll do anything for money, including killing every last one of us. He also has a heightened healing ability. He can survive anything."

"Anything?" Steve asked disbelievingly.

Natasha smirked, "Anything. I could shoot him in the head right now and he'd be back up in a few minutes."

Tony gave a sudden nervous laugh, "Yes, let's not try that out in my tower, though."

Steve shook head, completely baffled. He couldn't understand why Tony, who seemed to really dislike the man, would even call him. He seemed insane and definitely not well-liked around the Avengers. They were really going to trust this guy to help them?

"Look," Tony explained with a grimace. He crossed his arms over his chest, keeping an eye on the red-clad man, "He can't die. He could be really helpful finding Spiderman if we have to raid HYDRA."

"Spiderman!" Deadpool slapped his hands on his cheeks and jumped up and down like a fangirl, "Ooh, he's got such a nice –"

"He's fifteen," Natasha growled, cocking the gun in her hand. There was a look in her eye that Steve had never seen before… and he'd seen Natasha when she was angry. He'd seen her take people down and fight without thinking twice about the person she was hurting. He'd never seen her look so protective. Most of the people that Natasha took down were simply a job. This was much more than that.

Deadpool let out a yelp and the eyes on his mask seemed to widen, "Fifteen! Never mind. Forget I said anything. Yes, I know. We're going to have to forget about that."

Well, at least he seemed to have some morals.

Who he was talking to, though, Steve had no idea. He was pretty sure that he was not going to find out any time soon. He was not about to ask.

"Look, Deadpool," Tony said suddenly, creating a fist in one hand and looking like he was trying really hard not to punch him. His face looked almost pained from having to talk civilly, "Spiderman is missing. He's been taken by HYDRA. We're trying to locate him right now to get him out of there but we're going to need your help. This is a one-time deal, understand?"

Deadpool put his hand to his forehead and saluted Tony, "Aye, Aye, Tin Can."

Tony's eye twitched. Steve watched in silence, befuddled and also getting a small kick out of how Deadpool was annoying Tony.

"Deadpool," Steve finally spoke up, "Spiderman is not just a teammate here, okay. He's family. If you're on board, I need to be sure you aren't going to do anything that might jeopardize the rescue mission."

Deadpool just turned and began walking to the kitchen. He called out to them as Tony started chasing after him, "Don't worry about me. I would never do anything like that! I'm an angel!"

As the door behind Deadpool and Tony slammed shut, and Steve heard Tony let out an annoyed shout, he turned to Natasha, "Should I be concerned?"

"Very," she answered grimly, finally putting her gun up once Deadpool was out of her sight. She didn't keep her eyes off the door though. She seemed more tense than usual, "Deadpool is dangerous. I just hope that Tony is paying him well. If someone else pays him more than us, he can easily be put against us. I don't trust him. At all."

It wasn't much later before the next person showed up. The team plus Deadpool was assembled in the living room, going over information and strategies on how to find their youngest team mate, when a man dressed in red with devil horns suddenly walked in.

Unlike Deadpool's appearance, Natasha did not react negatively and simply glanced over at the man as if he was a regular visitor. Clint jumped up, a grin on his face as he greeted the newcomer like an old friend.

"Daredevil!" he exclaimed, "Didn't expect you here so soon."

"Wait," Tony spoke, standing up sharply, eyebrows raised, "How did you get in here? JARVIS? Why was I not alerted?"

"He asked me not to," JARVIS answered simply, sounding a bit amused.

The tips of the man's lips quirked upwards, "JARVIS and I are pretty close."

"I don't even know you!" Tony exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Clint suddenly, "Who is he?"

Clint smirked at Tony and slapped the finger away, "This is Daredevil. Also known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. We shared a dumpster once. He's got a really nice nurse. She patched me up pretty well."

"Okay," Tony spoke slowly, narrowing his eyes at Clint before turning back to Daredevil, "And what's your real name? I need to run a background te-"

"I prefer to remain anonymous," Daredevil said quickly.

Tony did not seem to understand this for a long moment but before he could protest this, Deadpool has jumped from his seat, cheerily clapping his hands like a small child, "Oh, wonderful. I love a good mystery."

"No," Natasha spoke sternly, and said nothing more. She was glaring at Deadpool as if he had taken the last piece of cake.

Steve about had enough of this. There was too much joking around. He stood up suddenly, "Enough," he spoke sternly, "We need to find Spiderman. Now is not the time."

There was silence for a long moment before Deadpool laughed and clapped his hands excitedly, "Alright. Let's get killing."

When Peter awoke again, it was to a sharp sting on his cheek. He hissed and his eyes snapped open. As they adjusted to the darkness in their room, he focused on the woman.

"Wake up," she snapped. Her long, slender fingers reached out, gripping his hair tightly and pulling his head back, "Time for more talking."

He glared at her and didn't speak. If she wanted talking, she was going to get silence.

Her eyes narrowed at him and she slapped him again. He grimaced, but refused to speak.

"Alright, kid," the woman spoke lowly, "How about I ask you some questions first?"

Again, he didn't answer, simply staring up at her defiantly.

"Where is the Winter Soldier?"

Silence. He clenched his mouth closed. Bucky was his friend. No, he was more than that. He was family. Peter would never give him away.

She shook her head in disappointment. She reached out and gently tapped his cheek before cupping his chin, forcing him to look straight into her eyes, "Now, now. Be a good boy," she whispered, smirking suddenly, "The knife didn't work, which is a shame, but I have many more toys to get you to speak."

Fear twisted in his stomach but he refused to show it on his face, keeping his expression hard as he stared at her.

She tutted softly and moved away from him. He turned his head to watch where she was going and unconsciously tugged at the bindings keeping him attacked to the table.

The woman moved to the table nearby and picked up what looked to be a large cow prodder. His heart skipped a beat as she turned to him, a sick smile stretched over her thin lips, "I've wanted to use this for a while, now. Of course, we have more… advanced tools here, but there is just something so satisfying about it."

She moved towards him and he struggled a bit harder, to no avail. She let out a laugh, seemingly rather ecstatic about the fear now showing on his face. She turned it on and suddenly jammed it into his lower rib, causing his body to seize and a mangled scream to escape his lips.

As she pulled it away, she smirked widely, "Do you know what this is called?" she asked him, ignoring his panting and shaking body, "It is a picana. It was based off the cow prodder but designed specifically for torturing humans."

He felt bile rising in his stomach at her words. Why would anyone create something like that? He sometimes forget how sick and twisted humanity was.

Then, suddenly, the picana was pressed against his ribs again, this time on the other side. He screamed louder, if possible, unable to bite it back.

"It used to be used in Argentina," the woman continued speaking as if she was telling the story of her grandparents instead of the origins of the weapon she was using to torture him with. As she spoke, she continued pressing it into his body, smirking as he screamed from the pain. Not once did she pause in her explanation, "The police would use it to get information out of prisoners. Paraguay, Uruguay, and Bolivia are said to have used it as well, but it was mostly centered in that area of the world. I, however, rather enjoy the instrument."

She moved it down to his lower stomach.

"Now," she was suddenly right by his ear and he must have blacked out for a moment because he didn't remember her moving, "Why don't you answer my question? Where is the Winter Soldier?"

"No," he grit out through the pain.

The picana was pressed against his chest again and hid screams echoed off the concrete walls.

It was dark in his lab. The only light came from his computer and a few electronics. He was furiously scanning through clips of security camera footage, attempting desperately to find something useful.

It had been two days since Peter's disappearance. Tony Stark had not slept since.

Of course, it wasn't unusual for Tony to stay up so late. He was hyped up on coffee and ready to go, scanning all of JARVIS' databases for any kind of clues as to where they took Peter.

He had found very little to track down the young Avenger and Tony could not help but feel guilty.

If he had hidden the GPS better, somewhere where HYDRA would not have been able to find it so easy and cut it out, they could have already tracked Peter and been on their way to rescuing him.

"Sir," JARVIS spoke up suddenly, "Might I recommend that you go to sleep? You have not slept in fifty two hours."

He grimaced and rubbed a hand across his forehead, sighing, "Has Peter been found yet?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'm not going to sleep."

He began flicking through several security camera footage that he had hacked again. They were of a suspected HYDRA facility. There was no sign of Peter.

"Sir," JARVIS spoke up once more, "I believe that you will not be of much use to Mister Peter unless you sleep. Sleeping improves focus and it can be detrimental to your health if you do not sleep."

He sent the air a betrayed look, "Any time spent sleeping is time that Peter is in the hands of HYDRA, being tortured."

"You will not be at peak performance for a rescue mission if you do not sleep," JARVIS spoke, and Tony hated that his AI was right, "I will keep running facial recognition through the footage while you sleep."

Tony hated to admit that he was not doing very well at staying awake. He was nodding off even at the moment, no matter how hard he tried. Sure, he was used to all-nighters, but it was getting a bit much.

So, with guilt rising in his stomach, he made sure everything was still running and headed off to bed.

He headed up to the main floor to grab a glass of water before he slept, dimly aware that he had not hydrated himself in quite some time. That was something that would not take very long and was definitely necessary if he wanted to be on his game when the rescue mission went forth.

The elevator doors opened as they reached the main floor and he stepped through, rubbing his eyes lightly. He really was exhausted.

He paused momentarily, however, upon seeing the couch. Barnes was there, sprawled out along the couch. Lucy was curled up at his feet. The dog bed had been brought out of Bucky's room and laid at the foot of the bed and the seven week-old puppies were curled up together, slumbering peacefully.

He wasn't sure why Barnes was not in his room but he bet it had something to do with Deadpool.

Even though he was not particularly fond of the puppies and their unwelcomed presence in his tower (seriously, why did Bucky not get that dog fixed once he got it?), he envied their ability to sleep, oblivious to what was going on.

Before he woke up Barnes, he quickly headed to the kitchen, got a glass of water, and made a beeline for the elevator.

He would sleep for a few hours. He couldn't be sure how well he would sleep. It would surprise him if he felt much rested upon awaking, but he would sleep more once Peter was safe at home.

Peter was unsure as to how long he had been in HYDRA's hands. It felt like forever but, honestly, was probably not even a week. He had been tortured, quite a bit. To any other person, the torture that he had gone through would have killed him. They had stabbed him many times, demanding that he give them information on the Winter Soldier.

He refused.

He would rather die than give them something that could possibly hurt Bucky.

At this point, he was worried that he would die.

Or, if he didn't die, he was worried that they would turn him into a weapon. He knew that they could. Bucky was living prove. He was terrified that he would hurt his family. After everything that they had done for him, he could kill them. They had taken him in, trained him, comforted him after his aunt's death, encouraged him… and he would never hurt them willingly but… he was pretty sure it wasn't going to be willing.

So, when he woke up feeling a bit stronger than before, as they had left him alone for enough hours for his body to mostly heal from the torture and the drugs that they were continually pumping into him to wear off, he immediately got to work.

He tugged on the restraints, eyes glancing around the room for anything that he could use. The room was mostly bare. There was a few knives and other objects on a table nearby, some of them coated with blood from the last torture mission. He hadn't paid much attention to it, normally trying not to focus on it, but it could be helpful.

His webshooters were there. He hadn't noticed them before. They were mostly hidden behind the picana, tossed unceremoniously onto the table. He was fairly certain that they were there to taunt him, as they clearly did not think he could escape out of the restraints. However, they had an opposite effect on him. They filled him with hope. If he could get those…

He tugged hard on the restraints and a small grunt escaped his lips. He pulled again, focusing on one arm this time and putting all of his strength behind it.

He normally did not use all of his strength… ever. It was dangerous and he did not want to kill anyone, so his full strength was only ever used to lift things, which only occurred on a rare occasion.

Now, without the effects from the drugs or torture wearing him down, he took a deep breath, and pulled.

The restraint gave a bit, causing a gasp to escape his lips. His brown eyes lit up suddenly, hope filling him. He pulled again, hard and fast, and felt the restraint snap in half.

His hand was free. His arm was stiff from lack of movement as he held his hand up to his face, staring at it in amazement. Dried blood covered it and his wrist was rubbed red and raw, but he paid it little attention as he immediately reached for the other restraint, running his hand over it to find out how to undo it.

It took him a long moment but he found a small latch under the table. He was glad that Natasha had been working with him on flexibility, as he never would have been able to twist his body in such a way to reach it. He tugged on the latch and his other hand was suddenly freed. After repeating the process on either ankle, he hopped off of the table with excitement flooding through him.

Without wasting any time, he darted to the table and grabbed his webshooters, quickly putting them on his wrist. Immediately, that sense of helplessness that had been flooding through him ever since he had first woken up in this prison ebbed away.

He went to walk away but his hip bumped the edge of the table. Normally, it wasn't even something that he would notice if it hadn't been for a laser suddenly erupting from the table and shooting a hole through the wall and outside.

He jerked away from the table, spider sense erupting in the base of his skull, and pointed his webshooters at the object that created the laser… only to freeze.

It was the pen that Coulson had given him. When he had bumped into the table, it had rolled and just barely touched a nearby knife that was coated in dried blood.

He stared at it for a long time before slowly picking it up. The moment his hand, which was coated in dried blood, touched it, another laser shot out, shooting yet another hole through the concrete walls. He dropped it back onto the table in surprise and it was back to looking like any other normal pen.

"Whoa," he whispered under his breath. This was impressive technology and when he got home, he was going to grill Coulson until the man told him how this worked.

There were now two large holes in the wall and, being careful to stay out of the path of the pen (which he worried could go off again at any moment), he walked over and peaked through them.

Trees met his vision. The concrete wall was the only thing that separated him from the outside world, from freedom.

The only question was how to get out.

HYDRA was sure to have surveillance at every corner, not only guards but cameras too. If Peter knew where said cameras were, or where the guards were located, he could escape easily now that he had his webshooters in his hand. Heading out of the room and further into the facility was dangerous, but Peter would do it if it meant the possibility of escape.

He did not want to become their weapon.

Luckily, there was another means of escape and he held it all in his hands.

Smirking, his brown eyes glanced back to that metal table, covered in dried blood and torture devices. That seemingly innocent pen lay on the table, beckoning him forward. He glanced once more at the holes in the wall before walking around behind the table. Making sure that the pen was pointed at the wall, he reached down and wrapped his hands around it once more.

The laser shot out again and, this time, Peter did not drop the pen. Instead, he held it in his hands and carved a large hole into the concrete, large enough for him to easily fit through to escape.

Once the large slab fell off, onto the grass, creating a small cloud of dirt to rise, Peter dropped the pen back to the table. The laser immediately shut off. He didn't bother picking the pen up again. He did not understand what was turning it on and he would rather not laser off his legs while running away from the facility.

His spider sense suddenly erupted and his enhanced hearing picked up on the sound of footsteps running closer and closer towards the room that he was in. The door flew open before he could react and the woman who had been torturing him for the past few days was suddenly standing there, a large gun pointed directly at his chest. She looked absolutely livid and a chill ran down his spine, a bit of fear filling his stomach.

He took a deep breath and smirked at the woman. His abilities were no longer restricted. She had no control over him and he was more powerful than she was.

Still, all of HYDRA was more powerful than he was. He was not about to stay around until other HYDRA agents came charging in. No, he was going to wait until he had the rest of the Avengers behind him before he tried taking them down.

"No time to chat, my sadistic host. I've got to run."

Without looking back, he took off at a run into the unfamiliar woods, dodging whatever the woman was shooting out of her gun and disappearing into the trees.

Author's Note: Super sorry that this took so long, but I GRADUATED! Half of this chapter was written like, last year, while the other half was written yesterday. I hope it's not too obvious. I took AP Literature this year and my teacher was super strict but he really helped me with my writing. Hopefully, that means that there is an improvement!

Chapters should be coming at a steady pace now. I plan to have this story finished by the end of June. I'll be getting a part time job this summer but I'll have much more free time. You guys no longer have to wait for months to read the next chapter!

Hope you guys enjoyed! The next chapter should be out soon! My sister has already threatened my life if it is not. Things are starting to pick up. Next chapter, you will see the results of Peter's attempted escape! Thank you to all those who have been keeping up with this!

Also, my sister has agreed to beta read this! Thanks to all who offered! You guys are the best!