A landscape of shattered rocks and crumbling ruins, vehicles ablaze flickering shadows against the ashen sky. A multitude of onlookers with blankly drawn faces, their eyes drawn upwards.
Where am I? What are they are they staring at?
Peter stared upward to witness a familiar sight hurtling down from the sky. Panic surged through him as he attempted to run through it, but his limbs refused to obey. It couldn't be real. It's Iron Man plummeting nearer and nearer towards the Earth.
Somebody... somebody, help my Dad! Please! Help him!
He grappled with every ounce of strength to budge, yet his efforts proved to be futile until a resounding metal thud broke the silence.
Peter's eyes snapped open, his hand reaching out instinctively into empty air as he gasped for breath. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, his heart pounding in his chest.
Dad? Where's Dad?
Dad's usually around when he woke up with a scare.
The night clock on his bedside table reads only three thirty in the morning. It had been a month since his worst nightmare became a reality, and since then, nothing had been the same.
Peter rose from his bed, determined to escape the confines of his room. With each step he took, the dim blue LEDs lining the floor illuminated his path, offering a guiding light in the dark.
Normally, the thought of navigating the isolated hallway alone in the dead of night would have sent shivers down the spine of any young boy.
However, for Peter, the true terror lay not in the shadowy corners of the house, but in the haunting shadows of his own nightmares.
He couldn't sleep unless Dad was there by his side.
He went to the kitchen when he saw a figure sitting, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, holding a glass, and gazing pensively at the cityscape beyond, lost deep in thought.
He immediately knew who it was and stepped closer, "Dad..."
The sudden intrusion of a small voice jolted Tony, catching him off guard. Startled beyond measure, he lost his balance, slipping out of his chair in a chaotic flurry. In his panicked state, he knocked over a glass, its splintering shattering sound echoed throughout the expansive penthouse.
Peter flinched, his eyes widening. "I— I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to startle you," he stammered. He moved to approach his father, but Tony signalled for him to stop.
"It's okay. I'm okay, Pete. There's broken glass scattered. Don't move."
As the automated vacuum bots whirred by, clearing away debris, Tony sprang to his feet and lifted Peter, carrying him over to the kitchen island.
Dad's hands are still shaking, he does not get easily frightened before. Have I scared him so badly?
Tony caught Peter's worried gaze directed at him. Despite his trembling hands, he managed to muster a smile, "Let me guess, another nightmare?"
Peter nodded and Tony sighed, "Me too, bud."
Tony's attempts to find rest in sleep were continually thwarted by haunting flashbacks that refused to loosen their grip on his mind. Just as he thought he could finally surrender to rest, the relentless reel of flashbacks would begin once more. Even when sleep finally claimed him, it was merely fleeting, shattered by the arrival of nightmares that tore him from his fragile repose. The cycle became so persistent that the mere thought of sleep filled him with dread.
The worst one yet was his precious little one being taken from him forever, and it gave him the biggest scare that could even make him lose his mind.
He poured a glass of fresh milk and handed it to Peter, "It will help you relax."
Peter took a sip from his drink, and as he lowered the glass, Tony leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, "Good boy. C'mon, let's get you to sleep again."
He gently carried Peter into his room, where he lit a soothing scented candle to calm their senses. Tony planted soft kisses on Peter's forehead and cuddled him until they drifted off into peaceful sleep.
Every now and then, Tony was reminded of the horrifying events, but Peter has been his lifeline keeping him glued together, to live more, to stay strong.
Their entire summer was spent in the scenic confines of Malibu. While Peter immersed himself in a month-long summer camp experience, Tony delved into a newfound passion for crafting suits, a hobby sparked by the aftermath of the invasion.
At first, Peter thought it was just a hobby, but he wondered if it's now an obsession because even now, Dad shows no signs of slowing down. Peter found himself struggling to keep track of all the unique suit designs his father had created, some names slipping from memory.
Dad allowed him to name some of them, and among his favourites are "Igor" and "Starboost". He contributed the ideas for "Chameleon" and "Tiger" as well. Their Hall of Armory now boasts an entire Iron Legion, a testament to Tony Stark's creativity and dedication that could eventually retire his Dad.
The sight of so many armors should have reassured Peter, yet an unsettling worry crept in. Perhaps Dad's preparation of these numerous armors hinted at something more threatening, amplifying Peter's unease despite the intended sense of safety.
As the new school year approached winter break, Peter and Ned strolled across Midtown Tech's football field towards the bleachers. Their gaze shifted to the perimeter where the Department of Damage Control diligently worked to restore the field after months of the Leviathan's presence. Among them, a cluster of students had gathered, drawn by the creature's presence, turning it into an unintentional spectacle for the student body.
"Looks like they're halfway done," Peter said between bites of his sandwich.
"I'll really miss that thing once it's gone," Ned said, prompting Peter's face to scrunch up in confusion. "What?" Peter said. "Dude, you're so weird," he added with a chuckle, and they both laughed. After school, they often hung out on the bleachers, watching people go about their work.
Ned glanced at Peter. "Any idea when they'll be back?" He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his drawings. "I can't wait to get these signed by The Avengers.'"
"Yeah, Peter! When are they coming back? We want our drawings to be signed too." Liz counted, with the other girls gathering around beside them.
Peter was on the brink of responding when Flash interrupted, striding past them, "Oh sure, as if little Parker knows where they are. Bet Captain America won't even want to hang out with that wimp."
Ned's voice rang out sharply, "Get lost, Flash." Peter's gaze bore into the retreating figure of the boy, his expression simmering with restrained annoyance.
Typical Flash. Peter always remembered what Dad had told him: to rise above and not take to heart the hurtful remarks, even when he was sorely tempted to smack Flash even with his small hands.
"Don't mind him, Peter," Liz reassured him with a tap on the shoulder and whispered, "He's always jealous of you."
Her words elicited a smile from Peter, "Thanks, Liz."
In that fleeting moment, a delicate snowflake gently landed upon Peter's nose. Their collective gaze shifted skyward, inhaling the crisp chill of the winter air, each one immersed in the serene beauty of falling snow. It marked the first snowfall of the season— a moment of pure enchantment. With laughter bubbling forth joyously, the children eagerly made their way to the football field, delighting in the magic of the first snowfall.
As the enchanting melody of "Jingle Bell Rock" filled the luxurious Penthouse, Peter and Tony embarked on decorating their Christmas tree. Outside, snowflakes gently cascaded from the heavens, blanketing the streets of Manhattan in a pristine layer of white.
Their laughter mingled with the music as they swayed and twirled around the tree, caught up in the joy of the season. Tony, swept Peter into his arms, lifting him effortlessly to place the crowning star atop the tree. It was a scene of pure holiday magic, captured in the warmth of their shared joy and the beauty of the season.
"Ready?" Tony asked, and Peter nodded eagerly as the Christmas lights on the tree burst into radiant life.
Peter's eyes lit up with delight as the colourful lights danced around the room. "It looks magical, Dad," he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder.
Tony beamed with pride as they stood side by side, taking in the captivating scene. He wrapped his arm around his son, feeling a warm sense of contentment.
Afterward, they settled onto the plush carpet near the crackling fireplace, savouring the cozy ambiance as they sipped their hot chocolate. It was the perfect way to cap off the night.
Iron Man touched down on the penthouse balcony, and Tony Stark swiftly stepped out of his suit. His knees threatened to buckle, and his heart continued its frantic rhythm.
Initially, he feared a heart attack— "Am I getting old?" —but it wasn't physical, it was a crippling wave of anxiety, hitting him harder than ever before.
He recently met up with Rhodes at a renowned burger joint in the city, where they delved into a discussion about the Mandarin. The terrorist had been causing havoc for months, disrupting channels and constantly making headlines. Even Peter stumbled upon a news segment about it once and found himself shaken. The situation weighed heavily on his mind. While it may not be a grandiose superhero matter, he can't shake the feeling that there must be some way he can contribute to putting an end to it, especially with his arsenal of armoured suits ready for action.
As the kids earlier asked for an autograph, all became nuts from there. The little creeping voice asking, "How did you get out of the wormhole?" lingered, assaulting his senses, triggering flashbacks, and everything went downhill from there as if there was no stopping it. Among the many things he had been worried about, the wormhole topped the list and had constantly kept him up.
He briskly strode to the bar, his hand reaching for the familiar bottle of Jack. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, attempting to steady his racing thoughts. The glass felt fragile in his grip, as though it might shatter at any moment.
When he dared open his eyes, he saw Peter heading in his direction. Quickly, he veered in the opposite direction, not wanting his little kid to witness him in such a state. He can't seem to calm the fuck down, and as he tried harder to make it stop, the episode grew even stronger.
"Dad! Pepper's coming later right?" Peter asked eagerly as he caught up with him, wrapping his arms around him from behind.
Pepper hasn't been in New York lately, and Peter already misses her. Stark Industries HQ remained in California, and Pepper mostly spends her time there with Happy as their new Head of Security.
Peter's smile faded as he noticed his dad's uneven breathing, prompting him to check his father's face, "Dad, are you okay?"
He grew increasingly worried as he watched Dad crumple onto the couch, struggling to catch his breath. Dad managed to utter, "Go to your room." It was the first time he had seen Dad in such a state. Memories flooded back of the times when he had been the one gasping for air after a terrifying nightmare, and Dad had always been there to comfort him.
"Dad, just breathe... It's gonna be okay. You're going to be okay."
With care, he cupped his father's face, their foreheads meeting in a moment of shared strength. Recalling his father's comforting mantra, "I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay," he hoped it would work its magic once more. He thought a silent prayer, trusting in its power to bring peace in this moment.
Tony echoed the phrase in his mind like a soothing mantra, "I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay."
Gradually, the rhythmic rise and fall of Dad's chest steadied. Tony's tense muscles eased as he felt the tension drain from his body, a sense of relief washing over him like a gentle tide. The soft hum of the air conditioner provided a soothing backdrop to the moment, punctuated only by the quiet exhale of breath.
Tony's half-smile, though tired, held a world of gratitude as he pulled his son closer, enfolding him in a warm embrace, "What would I do without you," he murmured, his voice a mixture of weariness and affection.
Pepper's heart sank as she entered Tony's lab, her gaze falling upon him doing pull-ups with an intensity that mirrored his relentless drive. Despite the warm welcome of the Iron Man suit, she couldn't shake off the disbelief at finding him engrossed in his work yet again.
After enduring a gruelling six-hour flight from California to New York, her anticipation for their long-awaited date night had been the beacon of her week. But now, standing amidst the metallic expanse of his lab, she realized her hopes were dashed against the unyielding reality of Tony's commitment to his inventions.
As she watched him, muscles rippling with each repetition, she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Yet, buried beneath her frustration was an undeniable admiration for his unwavering dedication, even at the expense of their cherished plans.
Tony had a conversation yesterday with Happy being the new "forehead" of Security of Stark Industries and it opened up an old flame Pepper had. It made Happy uneasy having suspicious doubts about Killian's bodyguard mentioning he's going to investigate.
The Mark 42 suit pivots, its face seemingly casting an accusatory glance her way.
Disappointment surged within her at the unjust implication of any romantic involvement with Killian, when in reality, their interactions were purely business-driven. It had been a while since she last saw him, and she couldn't help but notice his newfound charm and confidence, seemingly devoid of his past struggles. While she's genuinely pleased with his transformation, it doesn't mean she's susceptible to his invitation to AIM.
As she made her way out of the lab, she yearned for the one thing she knew she deserved – his trust. Just as she reached the door, Tony mustered the courage to admit his mistake. Her steps faltered as she met his gaze, witnessing genuine remorse reflected in his eyes,
"I'm a piping hot mess. It's been going on for a while, I haven't said anything. Nothing's been the same since the invasion,"
His recent anxiety attack stood out as the most severe one he'd experienced by far. The recurring nightmares, heightened startle response, intense feelings of unease, and the relentless urge to pursue something indicate a deeper underlying issue at play.
"You experience things and then they're over and you still can't explain 'em. Gods, aliens, other dimensions, and that freaking research. I— I'm just a man in a can. The only reason I haven't cracked up is because of Peter. That little kid kept me going. And you, you've been my rock. I have you both, I love you both, and I'm lucky. But, honey, I can't sleep. I come down here. I do what I know, I tinker... But threat is imminent, and I have to protect the one thing that I can't live without. That's you and my son."
Pepper walked towards Tony and held him close. His suits had been his distraction, a coping mechanism that kept him busy. But he can't help it because if he stops, the darkness will always be there to consume him.
"Dr. Banner, am I doing this right?" Peter asked as he answered another set of questions.
He often hung out with the good doctor every once in a while during Tony and Pepper's date nights.
"Yeah, well done, little genius. You nailed it," Bruce commended Peter with a warm smile as he checked over the answers.
He was consistently impressed by Peter's swift grasp of concepts. They were currently delving into the fundamentals of Bioorganics, "So, what's your dad up to this time?"
Peter shrugged, noting, "He's not supposed to do anything tonight. If he does, it's going to upset Pepper again."
"Ah, let's hope it goes well with them this time."
Peter smirked knowingly, he knew how Dad could be so stubborn.
Glancing up, he noticed Dr. Banner engrossed in his microscope, "You're a doctor right Dr. Banner? I mean you treat the sick, like a physician... Do you also give talks? Like a medical talk? Like a psy... Psych.." Peter trailed off, struggling to articulate his thoughts, the words dancing tantalizingly on the tip of his tongue.
Bruce's gaze shifted to Peter, his brows furrowing with curiosity, "A psychiatrist?' he queried, his tone tinged with intrigue and a hint of skepticism.
"Yeah, that."
"What for Peter? Do you need help? Are you in trouble? Is someone bullying you at school? Does your Dad know about this?"
Bruce couldn't stand the thought of Peter facing any trouble. Peter was just a little kid, and everyone in the Avengers circle understood how precious he was. Tony would undoubtedly unleash fury upon anyone who dared to harm his child.
Peter's eyes widened as he sensed suspicion and anger emanating from Dr. Banner. Fear gripped him as he worried that his words might awaken the big green guy, "What? No no no, Dr. Banner. It's not for me. It's for my Dad."
Confusion creased Banner's features.
Peter continued. "Can you talk to him? He had an anxiety attack earlier and it's nothing I've seen before. I don't know... maybe it might help him."
Bruce recognized that the battle had taken its toll on Tony more than anyone else, and as he observed the concern in Peter's eyes, he felt a pang of responsibility.
Psychiatry wasn't his forte, he'd only undergone a few months of training in the field, and it was one of the specialties he dreaded the most. The mind can do crazy things to people. Yet, how could he refuse? With a gentle tap on Peter's shoulder, he assured him, "I'll try to talk to him, Peter. Don't worry about it."
Across the room, Tony's voice cut through their chatter, "Knock, knock."
Peter and Bruce swivelled their heads toward the automated doors, only to be greeted by the imposing figure of the Iron Man Mark 42 suit.
Peter's brow furrowed in recognition. He knew it wasn't his dad inside, it was the suit, controlled by his father's nervous system.
"Hey Bruce," the suit greeted with a wave.
"Hey, Iron Man. How's date night going?"
"It's good, really good," Tony answered.
Peter's brow shot up as he quickly packed his belongings into his backpack and glanced over at Dr. Banner, "No, it didn't."
Bruce smiled and patted Peter's hair, "Yeah, it didn't."
"Thanks, Dr. Banner. See you again soon." Peter said warmly as he hugged Bruce.
"You're welcome, Peter. You can come here anytime." Bruce returned the hug with a smile.
Peter dashed over the suit, which lifted him onto its shoulders.
"Thanks, Banner. So how's your homework?"
Bruce waved goodbye as he observed Peter and the suit heading off to the elevator.
Tony, what are you doing with your kid, worrying him like this?
That night, Tony was plagued by yet another terrifying nightmare, as the prehensile armor Mark 42 nearly attacked Pepper. Confessing his fears to her didn't dispel his inner demons so effortlessly. The suit itself seemed to detect Tony's distress.
The incident left her so terrified that she sought refuge in Peter's room, opting to sleep there instead. When Peter awoke, he couldn't help but wonder why Pepper was beside him.
As they gathered for breakfast, he noticed the exhaustion etched on his dad's face, signalling a troubled night. Peter wished for an end to the nightmares plaguing them, but he knew it wouldn't be that simple.
Their morning took a grim turn with news of Happy's involvement in a bombing attack at LA's Chinese Theater.
Pepper announced, "He's in a coma," and concern washed over their faces. Tony's fist clenched, Happy had been investigating Killian's bodyguard when this happened. Something urged him to uncover the root cause of this situation.
Peter pleaded to join them in LA, but Tony insisted he stay in New York. Tony couldn't allow Peter to join them, especially since they still didn't know who was responsible for the bombing.
Peter was on the verge of tears. Happy had always been there for him whenever Dad was away on business trips. Tony reassured him that they would return before Christmas, as they were all planning to spend the holidays in the Tower.
Tony knew Peter would be safe in New York, especially with the Hulk around as a backup. However, Bruce still struggled to control his Hulk transformations. Tony began to wonder if it would be safer for Peter to accompany them or stay at the Leeds's place.
Just then, JARVIS announced the arrival of someone he'd been expecting at the Tower,
"Perfect timing, Jarvis. Let them come up."
Just last week, he had extended an invitation to the rest of the team to spend the holidays with them, unsure if any would accept. He's relieved to see that some of them could make it.
As the elevator signalled their arrival with a soft ding, Pepper and Tony turned to greet the soldier and the spy, both wearing warm smiles.
"Captain. Agent Romanoff."
Steve and Tony exchanged a firm handshake, while Natasha greeted them with a hug.
Tony wasted no time in updating them about Happy's situation, mentioning his imminent visit to California for a day or two, and requesting their assistance in looking after Peter for a while.
"It's no trouble at all, Tony. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Steve regarded Tony with genuine concern. Steve's first impressions of Tony had been the worst, he thought that the billionaire only makes decisions out of dumb indecisive selfishness but ever since the invasion, after Tony did not hesitate to put his life on the line to save the city, he was proven wrong about what he knew about Tony Stark.
Tony appreciated the thoughtfulness behind the offer but ultimately declined it. He distinctly remembered the moment when the Avengers formed amidst chaos, where he found himself appreciating the Captain's leadership. Despite his initial reservations, Tony couldn't deny being impressed by Cap's tactical acumen.
Since then, Cap has proven himself as a reliable leader, earning Tony's respect. Steve had always made it a point that it's always good to have a backup around as the worst may come and they never knew what could happen. But he'd have more peace if he knew Peter was safe and with Captain America and Black Widow around, the bad guys won't even dare try.
As Midtown's last day of Winter Break unfolded amidst the biting chill of New York's harsh winter, Peter found himself nearly resenting it. With Mrs. Leeds having already collected Ned, he was now left to wait for his own ride.
Peter clutched his coat tightly, wrapping it around himself to shield him from the biting winter breeze. Regret pierced through him like icy tendrils. "I should've been in Malibu with Dad," he muttered, his teeth beginning to chatter.
He thought of Happy who had always been there to take care of him whenever Dad wasn't around. Despite his own chattiness and playful antics, Happy patiently played the role of babysitter. He silently hoped for Happy's swift recovery.
A familiar car pulled up, and Peter's eyes lit up as he immediately recognized its occupants as they stepped out. They were covered in coats, shades, and caps, rendering them nearly unrecognizable to anyone but the most attentive observer.
Steve erupted into hearty laughter as Peter dashed eagerly toward them, arms outstretched for a warm embrace.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting, little Stark," Natasha said with a smile as she gently brushed his cheek and draped another coat over his shoulders.
They drove back to the Tower and made plans to lift Peter's spirits the following day by exploring New York's attractions. Their first stop was the Rockefeller skating rink, adorned with a towering Christmas tree. The place was pumped up since it was the start of vacation and they could not move around freely so they walked to Central Park's expansive skating rink instead. Rogers, Romanoff, and Banner had put on their disguises well, thanks to the layers of clothes and scarves of the cold weather.
Steve glanced around his left. He had seen these same faces twice today. Two on his left and three on the far side of Peter and Natasha's opposite. It is highly unlikely that you see people twice in a crowded place.
His whole attention was always on Peter and his team but he's always got a sense of what's happening around him. Catching Natasha's gaze, he found her already attuned to his unspoken thoughts.
Over the past several months at SHIELD, they had forged something familiar, maybe even something deeper. Despite Clint being Natasha's partner, their collaboration on several missions had afforded him insight into the enigmatic spy. Initially distant, their interactions were confined to mission-related discussions, but they eventually warmed up to each other, becoming attuned to each other's thoughts, moves, and tactics.
"Bald guy at two o'clock," Natasha muttered as she skated near him, discreetly surveying the faces around, all eyes seemed to be fixed on Peter.
Why Peter? What would they want from Tony's kid? Is this what Tony was trying to not get Peter involved?
Steve knew they needed to get Peter to safety. He looked over at Peter who was laughing merrily while Natasha chased after him skating gracefully like a ballerina.
He waited patiently for Peter to approach, then with a swift move, "Gotcha," he scooped Peter up as they glided towards the exit.
Those guys are now cautiously approaching them, maintaining a safe distance. While they could handle the situation, it's obvious that they're not the one they want. As they began to walk away, he almost forgot, "Where's Bruce?"
Natasha's mind was consumed with keeping Peter out of sight when Steve's reminder jolted her memory. "Oh, right. He mentioned grabbing some hotdogs earlier. He should be back by now."
They scanned the area, hoping to catch sight of Bruce, yet the scientist was nowhere to be found.
Son of a bitch, on what hotdog stand did Bruce even go?
They decided to just leave it and continued walking, Natasha reached for her phone to call Bruce as they strolled along the arched path when they found themselves stopped by another set of men looking at them like they were gonna kill, the familiar men went soon after surrounding them.
"We just want the kid, Captain," The bald guy said casually with a piercing stare.
"You're gonna come through us if you want this kid."
Steve positioned Peter protectively behind him, forming a barrier between him and Natasha.
"Have you heard the news? Tony Stark's dead and that kid is going with us."
Steve's brows furrowed, a sign of growing suspicion as he exchanged a glance with Natasha.
"His mansion was destroyed in Malibu along with him. Stupid shit giving his address publicly."
Steve chuckled and Natasha couldn't help but smirk. One cannot simply kill Iron Man. They could sense the guy was dead serious but both of them found it hard to believe. The idea seemed preposterous, and not for a moment did they entertain the notion as truth.
Peter's eyes glossed with tears, yet he refused to let them fall. With courage, he lifted his chin and met the man's gaze head-on. No one could speak rudely of his Dad like that. "You're lying!" he declared, his voice ringing out with defiance.
"No, I'm not, little guy," he retorted with a smirk, drawing closer to Peter, his tone dripping with mockery. "Your daddy's dead at the bottom of the ocean."
Natasha instinctively reached out, shielding Peter with a protective hand as she pulled him closer to her back.
"That's enough," Cap commanded, stepping closer to the man, instinctively positioning himself protectively in front of Natasha and Peter.
Without their weapons and with his shield back at the Tower, they were ill-prepared for this unexpected encounter. What was meant to be a simple holiday had quickly turned into a potentially dangerous situation. Taking on these enemies would undoubtedly take time, and they couldn't afford to let Peter out of their sight.
"Okay... I hate to do this but," A punch aimed for Cap's face but he already saw it coming, countering with a quick blow from his own.
Meanwhile, Natasha swiftly incapacitated one assailant by leveraging her agility, delivering a decisive kick to his shoulder, while simultaneously taking down another enemy.
Peter watched horrified as he witnessed the intense battle unfolding before him. Captain America and Black Widow were bravely facing off against a group of bad men, his attention suddenly drawn to Cap's opponent, a menacing bald figure whose fist began to emit an ominous glow.
Before he could react, someone clasped a hand over his mouth and attempted to drag him away. Reacting instinctively, Peter sank his teeth into the attacker's hand, eliciting a pained cry, and delivered a forceful knee to the groin, causing the attacker to double over in agony.
As more men arrived to abduct him, he found himself with no option but to flee. Natasha caught sight of Peter sprinting away,
"Steve!" She called out for him to take care of the rest of the men.
"Go after him! I can manage these," Steve replied as he dodged another punch from the bald guy now heated up like fire and she unthinkably sprinted to where Peter went.
Peter knew self-defence, he should be okay, she assured herself.
Oh, she can only wish.
Peter coughed and panted, the freezing cold weather was not helping making it harder to move, he went around in circles at the park and hid behind a gnarled oak. He should have lost them by now, Central Park is a massive maze of forest.
He glanced around, finding himself alone. With no one in sight, he began to make his way back to the nearest exit. Surely, Natasha and Steve would have dealt with those guys by now. He could call for help once he reached an area with people and a signal.
Everything's going to be okay, that man is lying, nothing can ever happen to Dad, he had lots of armour.
But he was stopped in his tracks when a man grabbed him from behind, pressing a handkerchief against his mouth.
Panic surged through Peter as he struggled to break free, flailing his elbows in an attempt to fend off his attacker. He was familiar with techniques to escape such holds, but as his senses began to dull, his efforts became useless. His vision blurred, eyelids growing heavy, and before he could mount any effective defence, he drifted to unconsciousness.