Hostage

Peter told himself that he wasn't disappointed as he stepped through the front doors of the new Stark Industries building. He hadn't wanted to meet the rogue Avengers anyway.

Okay…so…maybe he had. Just a little. But even thinking that felt disloyal. Mr. Stark had done everything for him and he was going to repay him by being excited to meet the people that had betrayed him?

They were 'working things out,' according to Mr. Stark, which apparently meant meeting at the building which served as the new base for Stark Industries in New York. He and Mr. Stark had started meeting for his internship there once a week…at least it has started as once a week. The official terms said once a week. Now it was sometimes as often as three times a week, especially if Friday ran into Saturday and on the nights when May was working a double, Mr. Stark told him to go ahead and stay another day.

All of that to say, the staff knew him, and they knew that the other Avengers were coming, but it wasn't exactly being advertised. They were still, strictly speaking, wanted criminals. Peter wasn't really invited, per se, but when Mr. Stark had mentioned that it was happening on their usual internship day and that he'd have to postpone, Peter had asked if he could still come by.

"May's working all weekend and I thought maybe we could still do the internship after?" he'd asked, hopeful, and Mr. Stark had softened before patting his shoulder.

"Yeah, alright, kiddo. Just head to the lab when you get here, okay? I'll be down as soon as I can."

Peter hadn't mentioned the fact that really, he just wanted to be close in case a fight broke out. He'd just smiled and nodded and promised not to play with any chemicals that could explode, and Mr. Stark had given him an unimpressed look before going back to the car they'd been working on together. Colonel Rhodes was going to be there. He just had to trust that would keep things from getting too heated. They wanted to try and go over the Accords to make things better. Peter didn't know exactly what that meant, but he knew that Captain America, Natasha Romanoff, and Sam Wilson, three people who'd betrayed Mr. Stark, would all be there. And one of them had left him to die. Not that Peter was supposed to know that. It was something he'd heard Colonel Rhodes say, and had pretended to be engrossed in the engine they'd been building while Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes had stood outside the lab door last week, their conversation mostly just harsh whispers. Then Mr. Stark had returned to his side and neither had said anything else about it, but the words had stuck with Peter.

Left him to die.

He had never asked Mr. Stark about what had happened after he'd gone back to that hotel in Germany, and Mr. Stark hadn't brought it up. At first, their relationship had been too rocky. Then too new. Now…well, now it felt like it was too late. But he knew that the other Avengers had been arrested, and that people suspected Mr. Stark of helping them get off the Raft. And now some of them were coming to meet with Mr. Stark to try and have some kind of meeting to make things better. Peter hoped it worked out…he really did. But he also hoped that Mr. Stark would text him if he needed backup.

So when he stepped into the building, he didn't know if he was relieved or not when there were no rogue Avengers in the lobby. Instead, he saw only the receptionist who smiled at him, a new photo of her three black cats sitting on her desk turned so he could just barely see it. "Hi Lisa! New picture?" he asked, leaning in, and she turned it.

"I finally got them all to sit still for long enough to take a new one."

"Aww…Binx is so big!"

"His new favorite thing to do is steal my straws out of my cups," she confided, holding up the scanner so he could scan his badge, his name and a photo appearing on her computer monitor. He still couldn't quite believe that he had high enough security clearance at Stark Industries to go to pretty much any floor he wanted, but Mr. Stark had handed him the badge like it was nothing.

"Figured it would be easier to make a duplicate of mine," Mr. Stark had told him simply, as though that wasn't the coolest thing anyone had ever said to him.

"You'll have to sneak him in one day."

"Are you trying to get me fired?" she asked with a laugh, and he grinned.

"Mr. Stark would never fire you!"

She shook her head, still laughing. "You know about Mr. Stark's meeting, right?"

"Yeah. He's going to meet me in the lab after."

"Alright. You can head on up, honey. I'll message Mr. Stark and let him know that you've arrived."

"Thanks, Lisa!"

Peter was just passing through the security gates when the front doors opened, and a man walked through them. He was wearing a hat pulled over his face, in jeans and a t-shirt, but Peter would have recognized him anywhere. Sam Wilson nodded to Lisa who stood, handing him a badge and telling him that Mr. Stark was waiting for him upstairs, and Peter hesitated at the elevator, then hit the button that would hopefully take him to the lab before Sam got on the elevator.

He'd only spoken to the man once, and it had been in the middle of a big fight, but there was still a chance that he would recognize his voice…put things together. So he stabbed at the button two more times before footsteps approached, and the elevator opened right as Sam Wilson reached him. Biting back a curse, Peter tried to angle his face away from the man. Sam had never seen his face, but Peter was still afraid to risk it. They hadn't discussed sharing his secret identity with the rogue Avengers, but he was pretty sure Mr. Stark wouldn't want to do that until they'd at least had a discussion about where they all stood.

So when Sam stepped into the elevator with him, Peter moved to the far wall, pushing the button for Mr. Stark's lab and scanning his badge, then stepping away so Sam could hit the button to take him to the board room. Slowly, the doors closed, and Peter risked a look at Sam whose eyes he could feel on him. When their eyes met, Sam nodded at him, smiling a little. "Hey. Didn't know Tony was hiring teenagers."

"I'm an intern," Peter told him simply.

"Yeah? What do you do around here?" He sounded a lot friendlier than when they'd last met, but Peter guessed it helped that he wasn't trying to web the man to the floor in the middle of an all out battle.

"I work in the lab with Mr. Stark."

"Really? Huh. You must be a smart kid."

Peter shrugged, and the elevator doors opened to the private floor where Mr. Stark's lab was. "See you," he told him, waving a little and stepping into the hallway. Sam smiled, lifting a hand in a half wave, and Peter made his way to the lab, hoping he didn't suspect anything. It wasn't like anyone knew that Spider-Man was a teenager, so he hoped he was safe. Forcing himself not to think too much about it, Peter headed to his usual station and got to work. He'd thought about sneaking up to the boardroom to try and eavesdrop, but the consequences for getting caught would be way worse than not knowing what was happening, so he tried to focus and wondered if Mr. Stark would tell him anything later.

He made it forty five minutes before he started to get bored, which would usually be impossible in Mr. Stark's state of the art lab, but without the man there, it wasn't quite as exciting. So he headed over to the little attached kitchen to get a snack, then wandered back to his workstation…and that's when his hair stood up on his arms, his senses sending a cold chill down his spine, making a shudder go through his whole body. Looking around, the lab was exactly as it had been the last time he'd looked up…empty except for him. Only he and Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes could get onto this floor. The button wouldn't even work unless you had a security badge. Even the janitorial staff didn't come here…Mr. Stark did the cleaning himself. It was the same for the penthouse where Mr. Stark had his rooms and Peter's guest room.

"Friday? Is everything okay?" he asked, putting the tablet he'd been using down onto the table and grabbing his phone. No messages. No big news alerts.

No answer from Friday.

"Friday? Hello?"

Nothing.

He grabbed his pass, pocketing his phone, and snapped his webshooters onto his wrists, pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt down to cover them. It wasn't like he wasn't allowed to leave the floor, but he still felt guilty as he pressed the button for the elevator, frowning when nothing happened. He pressed it again, then scanned his pass even though he shouldn't need to…anyone in the lab had access to every other floor. But nothing happened. "Friday?" he called again.

Nothing but eerie silence. The lab was soundproof, which was usually a great thing. When Peter's senses were dialed up to eleven and he couldn't focus for how loud the rest of the world was, he loved coming to the lab which, despite being in a building in the middle of the city, was truly silent. Now, though, it just made him feel…on edge.

Peter went to the stairwell instead, pulling the door open just as everything went dark. Blinking, he waited for his eyes to adjust, the only light coming from the emergency exit sign. Something was wrong…something bad. Were the Avengers fighting again? He pulled his phone out but the screen was dark, which made no sense because he'd just had 58% battery a few minutes ago. Was it alien weapons, he wondered as he ran up the stairs toward the boardroom, or was it some kind of electromagnetic pulse? Something that could disable Friday? Would the other Avengers do that? Could they?

He threw the door open to the floor he secretly called 'the Boring Floor.' There were three big boardrooms and a few smaller ones along a hallway that only had one bend, plus three vending machines, and that was it. He'd been there once during the brief tour Mr. Stark had given him and then never again, but he could tell the second he stepped into the hallway that this was no longer the Boring Floor. It was the Bad Floor. There was a tension in the air…his weird danger senes were going off in the background like a dull hum, getting louder the longer he stayed in one place.

And then he heard it.

"Did you hear something?"

That wasn't Mr. Stark's voice, or the voices of any Avengers…or any employee that he'd met. Not that he'd met a ton of SI employees, but he had a feeling that if Mr. Stark was having a secret meeting with the Avengers on this floor, he wouldn't have scheduled any other meetings at the same time. Creeping forward, he kept his body pressed to the wall as he listened for other voices.

He pressed his ear to the closest door, then slipped inside of the empty board room. It was too small to hide in…no closets or big pieces of furniture. Even the table was small. He made a mental note to suggest escape hatches to Mr. Stark the next time he saw him as he scanned the ceiling. It was made of those tiles that were easy to push up on and lift out of the way, but he knew he'd have to be careful…they were made of a material that was barely stronger than styrofoam and easy to break. He wouldn't be able to put his full weight on them but he could crawl upside down on the very top of the ceiling once he was inside it.

There were footsteps outside, and he knew that he didn't have a lot of time to think. Something weird was going on, and at this point, getting caught eavesdropping on the Avengers was the least of his worries. So he jumped, sticking to the metal framework that held the tiles in place, then pushed one up, climbing inside and trying to put it back without making any noise. Then he started crawling, closing his eyes and focusing on the sounds around him. The power to the building had apparently been cut somehow, so the heater wasn't running, and there were no fluorescent lights to filter out. Instead, all he heard were distant footsteps, so he crawled towards those. Trying to map out the place in his head, he entered what he was pretty sure was the hallway, then passed another small room before finally reaching the room where the Avengers were supposed to be meeting.

Below him, people were breathing. A lot of people. Someone was breathing too fast, like they were afraid. Other people were breathing really loudly, like their faces were covered. He headed for the far corner of the room until he ran out of space, which let him know that, if his mental map was right, he was at the exterior wall. Then, taking a risk, he reached down and grabbed the ceiling tile, lifting it just an inch or so to give him a view of what was happening.

He couldn't see a lot…but a guy in full body armor passed by underneath him, and when he lowered himself a little more, he could see that the guy had a gun. A big one. Moving the tile back in place, he crawled a few feet over, then lifted that tile. This one gave him a better view, and he could see three more guys in body armor, plus a woman with red hair laying on the ground, breathing heavily. Natasha Romanoff? Someone was beside her, but he couldn't tell who.

A third tile lifted a few inches gave him his best view yet, but it was also one that made his blood run cold. In one corner sat Mr. Stark, his hand pressed to his bloody nose. Colonel Rhodes sat beside him, eyes closed, head resting on the wall. Two people in full body armor, including helmets that covered their whole faces, had giant guns trained on them. A few feet away, Sam Wilson knelt next to Natasha Romanoff, a pool of blood growing under her left leg. And sitting against the wall by the door, Steve Rogers glared at the three men that had guns pointed at him. But it wasn't just the Avengers being held hostage. It was Lisa too. Lisa from reception. Lisa who had three cats and looked like she was on the verge of tears sat against the back wall.

The element of surprise wouldn't be enough. He was only one person and there were seven bad guys! If he leapt into the room, he knew he could take some of them out, but he also knew that the remaining ones could always shoot their hostages.

Thinking fast, Peter dropped the ceiling tile back into place, then crawled far enough that he would be in the hallway, pulling up a tile to double check. He had to take out at least some of the bad guys before he could risk going in there. But how? All he had were webshooters and they had guns!

So he came up with a plan. Probably a stupid plan, but it was the only one he could think of on such short notice. Lifting the tile a little further out of the way, Peter pressed one hand to the ceiling, then shot a web at the vending machine with his other one, pulling hard once his web attached to it. The machine rocked slowly, but it wasn't until he gave a hard yank that the whole thing came crashing down with a bang that seemed to echo in the silence.

"What the hell was that?" one of the bad guys shouted, and he heard them pull out a radio. That was bad. A radio meant more of them! The elevator was out though, so they'd have to take the stairs up to this floor, which bought him some time. He couldn't think about other people being trapped…couldn't think about more hostages. He'd have to get the Avengers free before he could save anyone else.

The door to the boardroom opened and shut, and Peter watched one of the guards slowly sweep the hall with his flashlight, his back to Peter. Slowly, silently, Peter crawled out from the ceiling, careful to only put his weight on the metal framework, then, knowing he only had one shot at this, he leapt.

He didn't like violence…not really. He'd never wanted to shoot a gun and he didn't want to seriously hurt the petty criminals who tried to steal bicycles or hack into ATMs…but this guy was different. This was a man who was holding the Avengers hostage. This was a man dressed to kill. So he made sure that when his fist connected with the back of the guy's head, he wasn't going to get up any time soon. Peter dragged the body around the corner as fast as he could, then grabbed the gun, leaping back up to the ceiling and crawling back to that spot right above Captain Rogers where he left it before going back to the hallway to wait.

Sure enough, they sent a second guy. "Samuels! Samuels, where the fuck did you go?" Number 2 shouted, this time turning and sweeping the entire area with his flashlight, including the spot where Peter had been hiding. Thankfully, he managed to lower the ceiling tile just in time, then lifted it again to watch him walk towards the overturned vending machine.

Rinse. Repeat.

He dragged guy number one over to guy number two and webbed them together. The second gun he placed next to the first above Captain America's head, banking on his acting skills and them being assholes. But that part of his plan…the stupid part, would come later. There was no way they'd send out a third guy on his own, which meant it was time to get caught. So Peter went to the emergency door and webbed it shut as tightly as he could. They'd be stuck on this floor, but at least reinforcements couldn't reach them. Then he pulled his sleeves down over his webshooters, praying they didn't tell him to push them back up. He was betting a lot on looking like a hapless teenager but it wasn't like he had a lot of choices.

He couldn't take them all down…not when they had guns pointed at people.

He couldn't call for backup…the only people that could take them down were in that room!

Friday was down. There was no electricity to the building. He didn't have his suit. So two guns and his webshooters would have to be enough. For his hiding spot, he picked the room right across the hall, pushing a chair underneath the door handle and hiding under the table. He knew it wouldn't be long…they'd sent two guys out who'd never come back. There were now five bad guys…at least two, probably three, would stay back to guard the Avengers, but that left at least two to come looking for him.

The door handle started to jiggle not five minutes later, and then it flew open, slamming into the wall as the chair went flying, and one of the guys in black body armor pointed the flashlight right at him…along with the gun. He threw his hands up, eyes wide, and he was even able to manage a tear or two as he backed up. Behind him, another guy followed him into the room, his gun trained on Peter too.

"I'm sorry…please…please don't shoot me!" He backed up, pressing himself into the corner.
"I just work here Please!"

"Who the hell are you?" the guy in front demanded, storming towards him and never lowering the gun. The other guy grabbed the badge from around his neck, yanking on it so hard that the strap broke, the gun never lowering, and Peter winced.

"Peter Parker. Intern," he read in his slightly muffled voice.

"That's a hell of a security clearance for an intern," the first one put in skeptically, grabbing him by the back of the sweatshirt and shoving him towards the door. "Walk, Peter Parker. Now."

"Who took out our guys?" the second one demanded, and Peter shook his head.

"I don't know…I think that Spider-guy is here! I'm just an intern! I swear…I didn't see anything! I just heard voices and I hid! I'm not even supposed to be up here!"

Another tear fell and he mentally lifted a middle finger to his elementary school theater director who'd told Ben that with his acting ability he 'wasn't really suited' for the Christmas play. Take that, Mr. Bryson.

Mr. Stark's head snapped up along with everyone else's as soon as he stepped into the room, and Peter headed straight for him, moving slower than usual so they'd have no problem catching him. "Mr. Stark! I'm so sorry! I didn't…"

Mr. Stark was already sitting up, eyes wide with concern, but one of the guys that had brought him in caught the back of his sweatshirt and threw him against the wall next to Steve Rogers, training his gun on Peter. "Sit the fuck down and shut up!" Mr. Stark opened his mouth, looking murderous, but his guard stepped a little closer, nearly pressing the gun to Mr. Stark's forehead. "You too, Stark. Shut up or we shoot the kid."

Peter let his legs buckle as he sat down hard on the floor next to Steve Rogers, his hands up as he tried for his Oscar. "I don't know what's going on…I'm sorry…I didn't see anything, I swear!"

"Shut up!" the guard who'd been pointing a gun at Steve snapped, but Peter kept going, knowing Mr. Stark was going to kill him for this.

"Please…I was just coming up to ask Mr. Stark a question about the project we were working on…we were supposed to be building a robot for my school competition and then I heard footsteps and I saw that Spider guy and he was calling for backup…please…I won't tell anyone! Just…"

He was almost grateful when the gun whipped across his face, slamming his head into the wall…he'd been running out of things to say.

"Jesus, he's just a kid!" Sam Wilson snapped right as Steve caught him, bracing him as blood ran down his temple…he was pretty sure the guy had fractured something in his face. But Mr. Stark was just staring at him with a dawning comprehension. They'd never worked on building robots in the lab. Peter didn't have a competition coming up, mostly because he was no longer in his robotics club. And, of course, he was the Spider guy. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Shut up, Wilson," one of them ordered, pointing a gun at him, and Sam lifted his hands in surrender before going back to keeping an eye on the unconscious Black Widow. Lisa was staring at him in horror, eyes still darting around the room like she was looking for the exit, but there was only one door and it was up to Peter to get her out.

He let Steve Rogers tilt his head up, a hand pressed to the side of his face. "Look at me, son," he ordered softly, staring into his eyes, probably trying to see if he had a concussion, but Peter was too busy doing math to focus on him..

Five guards left. Three potential Avengers with weapons. He had plenty of web fluid. He just needed the bad guys let their guard down for long enough that he was able to pull that ceiling tile down…and he needed to let Mr. Stark and Steve know that there was a plan. And guns.

"Johanson, Pike, go check the stairwell. See if you can spot Spider-Man. Take him down if you see him. We don't need him."

The obvious question of 'why did they need the other Avengers' went unasked, but Peter didn't guess the answer mattered. He had a plan. A bad plan, but a plan nonetheless. So he waited until it was only three guards left in the room, two with guns pointed at him and Captain Rogers and one guarding Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes, before he met Mr. Stark's eyes. The man was staring at him, looking torn between concern and the desire to scold him. He hadn't expressly told Peter not to get involved in this, but he was pretty sure it had been implied. Still, there would be time for scolding later. Hopefully.

"Mr. Stark? Stai bene?" he asked softly, voice shaking, and this time it wasn't an act. If this didn't work, he'd have to hope the man would be ready anyway. He'd have to hope that the guards didn't shoot both of them for talking. He'd have to hope that the guards didn't know Italian.

"Si. Bene. E tu?" Mr. Stark asked, worry obvious in his voice.

Peter gave a shaky nod. "Si. Arma."

Mr. Stark's eyes widened just a little, and he followed Peter's quick glance up at the ceiling above him. He figured 'pistola' would be too easy to decipher, but his knowledge of Italian also wasn't that good…May barely spoke it anymore, so he only knew two words for weapon or gun. Judging by Mr. Stark's expression though, he knew that one too.

The guard kicked his leg then, apparently deciding that they'd spoken enough. "Shut the fuck up, you hear me?"

Peter cowered back, nodding, but Mr. Stark nodded too, just once. Now he just had to tell Steve.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked the guard who'd kicked him, and he felt every person in the room tense. "Why do you want the Avengers?"

"Kid…" Colonel Rhodes started, ignoring the gun in his face.

"Shut up!" the guard ordered again.

"They aren't even Avengers anymore! They…"

The gun swung the gun again, and this time he dropped against Steve's shoulder when it made contact, the man hurrying to catch him as his head throbbed. He and Mr. Stark had matching broken noses now, he thought with a sigh.

"One more word out of you and I shoot, do you hear me!"

"Peter, be quiet," Steve ordered, not unkindly, his voice barely a whisper as he lifted one hand in surrender. "You're going to be alright. Just…stop talking, okay?"

Peter found his arm with his hand, gripping it like he was afraid. Steve wrapped an arm around him then, patting his back, and Peter prayed that the man knew Morse code.

Spider-Man. Gun. Right above us.

Steve stiffened but didn't move away, just tapped out a response on his back. How many guns?

Two. Ready? On three. One. Two. Three.

Moving as fast as humanly (or superhumanly) possibly, Peter aimed his wrists forwards and shot webs at the two guns trained on them…just enough to jam them. He didn't have time to pull them out of their hands. Then, before anyone could do more than turn towards him, he shot a web at the ceiling tile and yanked it down, catching one of the guns while Steve caught the other. Immediately the other guards were yelling, but Peter tossed the gun to Mr. Stark, launching himself at the closest guard, and the sound of gunfire filled the room, making his headache worse. But that didn't matter…what mattered was freeing the Avengers. So he shot webs and stayed in front of Lisa as the bullets flew.

Peter managed to web the one guard who'd survived to the floor when it was over. Mr. Stark dropped his gun, hurrying over and putting his hands on Peter's shoulders, looking him over. Shakily, Peter leaned into him, then stiffened in surprise for a moment when Mr. Stark pulled him into his arms instead, holding him tight.

"That was stupid, Peter."

Peter melted into him, strangely exhausted, his hands shaking all of a sudden. What if it hadn't worked? What if they'd shot Mr. Stark or Colonel Rhodes...or Lisa? Or the others? Or him? What if more bad guys had come? "I know."

"You could have been killed!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Mr. Stark shook his head, pressing a hand to the back of his head. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Other than the concussion…"

The man gave a humorless laugh, then pulled away, holding him at arm's length and looking him over like he might be lying, then turning to the others who, with the exception of Rhodey, watched them in open confusion. "Think you can de-web those guns?" Peter nodded. "Sam, how's Natasha?"

"I got the bleeding to stop. She's still not conscious."

"Okay…let's head to the lab and regroup. I've got my suit and more weapons in there. Sam, can you carry her?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I've got her."

"Lisa, how are you holding up?"

She gave a shaky smile. "I'm okay."

"Good. Stay behind us. You ever shot a gun?"

"No…"

"That's okay. Point. Pull the trigger." He handed her a de-webbed gun that she took with trembling hands. "Follow Sam. Peter, you lead the way. Tell us if you hear anything. Spangles, Platypus, let's get out of here."

"Wait…hold up a second. Who the hell is Peter?" Sam asked, Natasha thrown over his shoulder, a gun in his free hand.

"Right. Avengers, Spider-Man. Spider-Man, Avengers," Mr. Stark introduced, a hand gently squeezing his shoulder, and Peter couldn't help his smile. Mr. Stark looked…proud? That was nice.

"I'm sorry…Spider-Man is a teenager? A teenager is about to lead us out of here?"

"This teenager just saved all of our asses, Wilson," Mr. Stark reminded him, voice deceptively calm. "We'd still be staring down the barrels of seven guns if it weren't for him. So do me a favor and save your questions until the end. We're not exactly swimming in free time here. Pete, you hear anyone nearby?"

He shook his head. "I webbed the door to the stairwell."

"Good work, kiddo. We'll talk about your choice to get yourself captured later. For now, think you can get us to the lab?"

And, jumping back onto the ceiling and feeling like an actual Avenger for the first time, Peter nodded. He most certainly could.