+1

"-and then we have the quarterly meeting with Devin from accounts, he's got some input about the new line coming out in fall-"

Tony ran a hand across his face, attempting to sweep away the exhaustion that was setting there. And failing. Miserably.

He glanced down at Pepper's face, which was lighting up the screen of the laptop that sat in his lap on the bed, and sighed.

"You know I'm pretty sure that when most couples video chat – after weeks of not seeing each other, mind – they usually skip all the accounts chat and head straight for the Netflix and chill kind of vibe."

Pepper's eyes flicked up from the report she was reading to him, staring at him through the computer screen, with a small smirk on her lips.

"Netflix and chill?" She asked, eyebrows rising. "Tony, you're upstate and I'm in Croatia."

"We can make it work. I'm a pretty imaginative guy."

A short chuckled slipped out of Pepper's lips. Her eyes glanced down and a shuffling echoed through the speaker as she pushed her papers away.

"Oh, I know."

God. That sultry tone had Tony adjusting the laptop that was still resting on his now quite tight, silk pyjama pants.

"Really?" He murmured, sliding the laptop forward on the bed until it was resting on the edge and he was sprawled out on his stomach staring at Pepper. "What is it that you know, Ms Potts?"

Pepper leaned towards the screen slowly, resting her elbows on the desk that her own laptop was perched on and folding her hands under her chin to stare at Tony. Christ, that stare did something to Tony that – no matter how many times she levelled him with it – never went away.

"I know that you have a meeting with the secretary of state this morning at eight, and it's already three." She murmured, seductively. It took a full minute for the words to seep into Tony's brain. When they did, his face must have fallen, because Pepper let out a soft chuckle and leant back in her seat. "Go to sleep, Tony."

Tony shook his head, running a hand through his hair and leaning up on an elbow of his own.

"Nah, this view is way better than anything I can dream up."

Pepper's eyes sparkled. That grin grew.

"I thought you said you were imaginative?"

"I am, but even I have my limits." Tony argued, leaning back down onto the bed and throwing a smirk of his own towards the laptop. "The mere image of you, Ms Potts, is too much for even this genius to invent-"

Pepper was bent over, and in hysterics, before he could finish.

"Oh, my god." She gasped. "That was awful." She threw her head back, whipping away tears that were escaping out of the corners of her eyes. "That was-"

"Romantic." Tony insisted. Her chuckles erupted into full out laughter. "I'm being romantic." He argued. "I'm wooing, you just-"

Tony cut off sharply when every light in the room flashed an ominous red – and then a booming alarm sounded all through the compound.

Pepper's hands shot up to cover her ears. Even through the computer speaker the alarm must have been deafening.

"What is that?!" She yelled, eyes wide.

"I have to go." Tony shouted over the alarm, panic setting in. "I'm sorry – but I have to-"

"Tony!?"

Tony shoved the laptop closed before Pepper had a chance to get another word out. He was up and off the bed a second later, scrambling for the sweatshirt he'd thrown across the room when he'd first collapsed on the bed. He shoved it over his head and wrenched open the door. No sooner had he taken a step into the large hall, than something large and warm collided with him. The force of the collision would have sent him to the ground if it weren't for the quick hands that caught him.

Steve was a step behind him, equally frazzled, and gripping Tony's shoulders tightly to keep the smaller man from toppling over.

"What the hell is that?" Steve panted, but the wild look in his eyes told Tony that, in the back of his mind, he knew already.

"Perimeter breach." Tony breathed. Steve's jaw tightened. The blonde threw a glance behind him - in the direction of the entrance hall.

"We need to gather the others-"Steve began, but Tony was already miles ahead.

"Natasha, Vis and Bruce are here. Rhodey's in Manhattan so he can be here in minutes if I can get onto him-"

"-Sam's here too, got in late last night-"

"-PETER!"

Tony pulled away, wrenching out of Steve's hold, and stumbled down the hall.

"Peter's here! I h-have to-"

Steve followed at once, and the two of them hurtled down the corridor towards the other rooms.

They barely made it two doors down before a massive boom echoed through the building, and the entire compound shook violently. Both Tony and Steve were thrown off their feet - colliding with the hallway wall painfully.

"What the fu – F.R.I.D.A.Y what's happening?!" Tony ground out, pushing himself back to his feet. Steve practically sprung to his - the adrenaline activating every inch of the super in super-soldier - and reached down to haul Tony the rest of the way to his feat. Steve pushed him forward and the two were hurtling down the hall again.

"Several armed men have entered the facility through the north wall, sir." F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice echoed, but the sound was crackled.

North wall? The mainframe. Damn them.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y shut everything down. We're going manual. Scramble all previous access codes and blow out the mainframe - literally. I want a boom of my own." Tony panted as they reached the end of the hall.

Where they promptly collided with Bruce and Peter.

All four of them opened their mouths to speak – confusion and panic coating every face – but another, billowing boom echoed through the compound and the ground around them shook again.

Tony seized a hold of Peter's arm and pulled the kid towards him, tucking him against his chest and covering him as best he could as the roof above them quaked ominously. Steve and Bruce braced as well – but after a moment of shaking the ground stilled, and the compound remained intact.

Before they could get back to their feet another body flew around the corner and nearly collided with Bruce. The doctor let out a short cry of surprise – and turned several shades greener – but at the sight of Sam, panting, beside him he began to relax.

"What the hell is going on!?" Sam cried.

"We're being attacked." Steve answered shortly. He rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder, watching the man suck in several controlled breaths. Bruce gave him a short nod a moment later and Steve pulled away.

"I gathered that." Sam breathed, throwing a glance towards where the explosions had sounded. "By who? For what?"

"Not a clue," Steve answered, before turning to Tony. "The second explosion, was that yours?"

"No." Tony said, "Trust me, when the mainframe blows we'll know."

"Why are you blowing out the mainframe?" Peter asked, his voice far quieter than the others – who were talking again – but it rang out to Tony. "Wouldn't that be an asset to us?"

Tony, who had released the kid from where he'd been crushed against Tony's chest, looked down at him properly for the first time. He was ramrod straight, eyes flitting around the hallway at the slightest noise, and dressed in nothing but his pyjama pants, the too large I survived my trip to New York t-shirt that Tony had thrust upon him all those months ago, and his web-shooters – which Tony was beginning to suspect the kid never took off.

There was fear in his eyes though. Honest to god fear that cut straight through Tony, and made him want to march right outside and end these assholes now.

"It's only an asset to us for as long as we can control it," Tony answered honestly. The kid was smart – too smart for his own good half the time – and lying to him now would do nothing. As much as Tony hated himself for it, they were likely going to need him to get out of this. "And I don't think we're going to have control for very much longer."

Peter nodded sharply, throwing another glance down the hall.

"Hey, look at me." Tony murmured, leaning closer in an effort to get the kid's attention and block out the rushed plan that was being made above both of their heads. Peter's wide eyes landed on him without hesitation – god dammit the raw faith in the kid's eyes was going to cripple him one day.

"We're going to be okay." Tony said, no small amount of force behind the words. "I'm going to get us out of here – just stick with me."

Peter nodded, a little more firmly this time, and Tony nodded with him. Okay. Good. Peter sorted. Peter safe.

Now to the getting out of here part.

"-where is Vision?"

Steve's voice was strained, but steady. His soldier instincts had kicked in, and he was in full combat mode now. His plan so far had gotten no further than gather the team and find out what the hell is going on. Tony couldn't argue with either point.

"-he went for a walk earlier, but I don't know if he came back." Sam answered, the same readiness in his stance. "And Natasha-"

The compounds lighting – which had remained dimmed since the initial alarm had sounded – flashed a blinding white and then shorted. The hallway was thrown into pitch darkness for a second before the secondary red lights switched on and left them all bathed in scarlet shadows.

"Everyone brace – and cover your ears!" Tony called, pulling Peter back towards him and shoving them both to the ground. A second later something strong, and solid settled over the both of them.

Steve.

Tony didn't have a chance to question to super soldier before a blinding light erupted outside the compounds widows – and a second later the resounding boom echoed across likely the entirety of upstate New York.

The widows shattered immediately – glass raining down all around them – and the building shook once more. Only this time it was earth-rattling quakes that left Tony's teeth chattering and his heart racing faster than it had in a while. For a moment everything blurred. The building was vibrating far too much to focus on without vomiting, so Tony squeezed his eyes shut and moved his hand from over his ears to cover Peter's eyes as well.

It lasted only a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours before the building finally stilled.

Silence followed.

"That," Tony breathed, "-was the mainframe blowing."

Steve's weight disappeared as fast as it had come. Tony pulled back too, climbing to his feet and pulling Peter up with him. Tony ran an eye over him – a couple of glass scratches that were already healing, but other than that he was in one piece. The others were in relatively the same condition.

Steve seemed to have taken the brunt of the glass, covering Tony and Peter who had been closest to the windows, but even he was sporting only a few scratches.

A shadow fell on them all when another figure slid around the closest corner. Steve was in front of them all faster than Tony could even process, but a moment later the red lights glinted equally red hair and he pulled back in relief.

"Natasha." Steve sighed.

The woman ran an appraising eye over them all in the dark lighting and, when seemingly satisfied that they were all in one piece, relaxed just slightly.

She threw a smirk over at Tony.

"Still not a sharer I see." She murmured, nodding her head behind them – where the mainframe used to be.

Tony shrugged.

"No one plays with my toys."

Natasha stepped a little closer, and directly beneath one of the red lights, which illuminated the red droplets setting on her neck and the left side of her face. There were dark stains on her black tac-suit.

"You okay?" Tony asked, eyeing the stains. Steve and Sam – who had been looking over the damage – whipped around and focused in on the stains as well. "Where have you been?"

"I took a detour – met one of our guests." Natasha said, running a casual finger over the droplets splattered across her face. "Not very chatty, but he didn't need to be."

She brought up her other hand, in which was a set of high-tech, night-vision goggles.

"Military grade." Sam said, eyeing the goggles.

"Not just any military." Natasha added, throwing them over to Tony. "These are special order – recognise them?"

Tony looked over them, and something deep in his gut clenched.

"Ross."

Natasha nodded.

"From what I could tell from a quick sweep there are three teams – all of about twenty men. Two coming in from the east and one at the west." Natasha said. "Using the lake as cover."

Everyone in the hallway froze.

"Why is Ross attacking us?!" Wilson hissed. He waved a hand at Tony. "I thought you two were buds?"

"Yeah," Tony drawled, his face pinching in frustration. "We haven't been getting along so well lately." When confusion clouded every face in the room, Tony sighed and went on. "I broke his boat – I think he's taking it kind of personally."

"That was you." Steve gaped. The others stared – confounded. "The cameras and the access panels were all down for maintenance when I got onto the raft – you did that!?"

Tony rolled his eyes so forcefully that it almost made his dizzy. "No." He said, sarcasm dripping from him. "They just like to run hour long system reboots with four high priority prisoners on board."

"You helped get us out?"

Tony knew that Sam's absolute astonishment wasn't intended to hurt him – but he couldn't deny that it did a little. He'd been trying. Christ, he'd barely slept in the last month in an attempt to get the accords in some kind of order, but he supposed the mistrust was somewhat warranted. Still, it stung. He had – somewhere in the last few weeks – really started to value Sam. He was a good man. Fair and honest.

And Tony was, well, Tony.

He'd made one – or twelve thousand – too many mistakes to ever really be thought of as a good man.
"Well, I helped put you in so it seemed kind of fair – but this probably isn't the best time to get into it." Tony murmured, tossing a glance of his own in the direction of what was surely a smouldering pile of his once beautiful mainframe.

"He knew it was you." Natasha asked, nodding to herself as the pieces came together.

Tony shrugged.

"Well, it isn't exactly a long list of people who could hack into his glorified, floating, soda can."

That silenced the room for a couple of seconds.

"Sixty men." Sam murmured finally, breaking the silence. "Kind of flattering."

Bruce let out a sigh of his own – his skin mercifully pink with only hints of green – and spoke for the first time since the shit-storm had started.

"Well this kind of complicates things – I mean they're not exactly an enemy. What do we do?"

"We run." Was Tony's immediate answer.

"What?" Steve's voice cut in. Equal parts enraged and astonished. "No. We can't run. We can't just let this stand. They've attacked us where we live – they just made themselves an enemy-"

"-We can't fight-" Tony started to argue.
"-The hell we can't." Sam's voice thundered over his.

"-We're locked out of the armoury." Tony cut both men off firmly. "We don't have access to any of the suits, or the weapons."

That got their attention.

"What?" Sam screeched, only for Steve to knock him painfully over the head in an effort to keep him quiet.

"We can't get in without the mainframe to open it."

"Then why the hell did you just blow it to shit?!" Sam hissed, taking a heated step forwards.

Tony opened his mouth to argue, but Natasha beat him too it. She stepped between the two of them, staring over at Sam with a glint in her eyes that Tony would not be comfortable having directed at him. Sam seemed to feel the same. He took a step back instantly.

"-We were never going to get to it before they did." She said, calmly, but there was definitely a warning at the edge of the crisp tone. "It's better out of play altogether than in their hands."

Sam sighed – but nodded. Steve nodded as well.

"Agreed." Steve said, nodding once at Tony before facing the group. "Where does this leave us?"
"Facing down sixty mercenaries without any weapons or back-up." Bruce outlined stonily.

The truth of their situation slammed into all of them, and they fell silent.

Beside Tony, Peter hands were clenching and unclenching nervously. Tony shot the kid a glance, taking in the pale tint of his skin and the slight quiver of his hands.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Tony cut him off.

With one last glance at Peter, Tony grabbed a handful of Steve's shirt and dragged him a few steps away – not out of sight of the others, but just far enough to give them a hint of privacy.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Tony cut him off again.

"I know you want to fight – but we can't. I can't." Tony stressed, softly. Careful of the enhanced ears behind him, and their owner who was staring over at Tony and Steve, and nervously abusing the hem of that I survived my trip to New York t-shirt. "I won't." Tony added, tearing his eyes away from Peter and looking back up and Steve. "I'm getting him out of here."

There was no room for argument in Tony's voice. He wasn't swaying on this. All of them were a part of this already – but Peter could be spared. He could go home to May like he was supposed to in a few days and never have to look back. If Ross found out about him –

The sight of Wanda, bound and motionless in her cell on the raft struck him like the blast from a repulsor. Ross would take him. Tony was sure of it. Who was he after all? Not a world-famous super soldier. Not an army veteran. Not a renowned spy with hands in more international pies than any other person alive.

Not the sole air to a multibillion-dollar tech company.

He was just a kid. Just a kid from Queens. A kid that Ross could snatch away, and no one would care.

Except Tony.

"I know that everything in you tells you to fight. It's just your nature. To stand and do something." Tony went on before Steve could try and interrupt. He swallowed heavily. "To plant your feet and say no, you move."

Steve's eyes widened, his face twisting equal parts shock and pain. Tony knew the it was harsh to let the words dangle as he did – knew that this wasn't the right time to get into their shared past with Peggy – but god he needed Steve to understand.

"Tony-"

"Yes. I was there. I knew her." Tony cut in, not ready to go into any further detail than that. She was a part of his life that he'd shared with very few people. "I knew her very well." He added. His voice lowered. "She is part of the reason you are here, that I am trying – and I am trying – but you need to understand that the world has changed. There are no battlefields anymore. Wars are fought at home now. With chlorine grenades in hospitals and pipe-bombs at pop-concerts, designed to blow up children." Tony ran an exhausted hand over his face. "If we fight, we escalate the shit-storm that is descending on us, and the people around us get hurt."

The words hung in the air for several seconds.

"What do you want us to do?" Steve asked softly.

"Run." Tony stressed. "Believe it or not, but this could be good for us. Ross has shown his hand. He's loosing with the accords, and I'm willing to bet this is some last ditch attempt to provoke a response that could get us put on the United Nations threat list. If it fails – if the compound is empty when he gets in – then nothing is on us. He's attacked us with no warning, and violated the terms we've already set down. That could give us the leverage we need to finally push the last few points the council have been chewing on." Tony breathed, hope blossoming in his chest as Steve took in the words without obvious argument. "It's not a defeat – it's a tactical retreat."

"I agree with you."

Tony sighed, ready to argue, and then Steve's words sunk in. "Y-You-wait, what?"

"I agree." Steve said again, his eyes flitting to the other behind them and hardening in resolve. "My issue is in the details. How do we run?" He asked. "If we're locked out of the armoury, then I'm also willing to bet we're locked out of the garage, and the hanger, and every other door that might lead to a form of transport. Short of physically running, I'm all out of ideas."

Huh. Tony actually hadn't gotten that far. He'd been too focused on getting Steve to agree to the plan to really make one.

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a voice barely an inch behind him.
"-There's a farm-house about six miles up." Natasha said, causing Tony to jump and skid across to Steve's side. Natasha smirked. "Our second closest neighbour." She elaborated, when neither Steve nor Tony seemed to catch on. "Ross's teams are coming around the west side of the late, if we head along the north rim we could skirt around and be at the house in an hour." She explained. "Mr. Beauchamp is seventy-two, and a sweetheart." Wow. That word sounded wrong coming from her lips. "I'm sure he'd be willing to lend us a truck."

Tony shot her a look.

"Do you spy on all of our neighbours?" He asked.

She tilted her head. "Do you not?"

"You need professional help." Tony shot back. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could another boom echoed through the compound. The building shook so forcefully that it threw all of them off-balance, and to the floor.

Tony scrambled over to Peter, who was already halfway back to his feet. Damn, the kid was fast.

Peter pulled Tony up with a strong hand, and Tony wrapped an arm securely around his shoulder.

Natasha sprung up to her feet as well.

"I think they're inside." She murmured.

Sam pulled a now very green Bruce to his feet and cast a look around.

"That would be our cue, then."

Tony nodded, shoving Peter forward and towards one of the blown out windows.

Time to get the hell out of dodge.

"Stay next to me, and close to the ground."
Tony murmured, pulling Peter along beside him as the six of them made their way silently around the lake. Peter nodded jerkily, not even trying to pull away from Tony's hand, which was fastened around the kid's upper arm. His silence was unnerving. The kid was never quiet. Not once since Tony met him. And now, despite how many times he'd wished the kid would shut-it for just a couple of minutes, he found himself desperate to hear the kid jabber about something. Anything.

"You're going to be okay." Tony breathed, pulling Peter down to take cover in the bushes near the lake when Steve waved a warning hand back to them. "We all are. We're going to get out of this."

Steve and Natasha were ahead of them, just slightly. Leading the small group through the trees and manoeuvring them around the encroaching soldiers. Bruce was nearby Tony and Peter, taking cover behind a nearby tree.

Sam was a couple of feet behind them. Bring up the rear and making sure they weren't spotted from behind.

A pack of soldiers appeared a couple of feet ahead of them. They tracked through the woods cautiously, automatic weapons raised and ready as they moved towards the compound. They disappeared after a few moments, and Steve waved the six of them on again.

"Peter?" Tony prompted softly when the kid didn't answer. Steve raised a hand again and they slid into the bushes for cover once more. Tony took the momentary pause to clamp his other hand onto Peter's shoulder and force the kid to look at him. His panic skyrocketed when the kid refused to look him in the eye. "Kid? I need you to tell me you're doing okay. Okay?"

Peter's eyes crept up. The terror in them struck Tony hard. Damn this kid would be the end of him. Before Tony could ask what was wrong though – and how he could fix it – the kid spoke.

"What if he knows who I am?"

The words were barely audible, but Tony caught them.

"What do you mean?"

Peter cast a look back towards the compound.
"Ross. What if he knows who I am?" Peter breathed. He glanced up at Tony. "What will happen to me? To May? My friends?" He asked, the panic in his eyes growing. "I can't be the reason something happens to them. I-I can't-"

"-You won't." Tony cut him off, tightening the hand that he had clenched around Peter's shoulder. "Nothing is going to happen." He assured the kid. "Ross doesn't know."

"You don't know that-"

"I do know that." Tony hissed, pushing the kid further down when a group of soldiers past them by. "Not only do I know it – I've ensured it." He went on, barely breathing the words, but sure that Peter could hear them. "You forget, I have access to every inch of his floating tin-can. I know every little piece of information that crosses his desk, and yours never will." Peter's eyes snapped away from the soldiers and flicked up to look at Tony. Tony didn't look away. "I have you, kid." He breathed. "And I will burn Ross to the ground before he touches you, or anyone around you."

The smallest of smiles crept over Peter's face.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

Tony snorted quietly.
"Don't thank me, kid." He breathed, pulling them both back up when Steve waved them all forward. "I got you into this, remember?"

Another explosion echoed behind them. Peter's head swung back towards the compound, a groan escaping his lips.

"What?" Tony asked.
"I left my Spanish homework in there." Peter huffed after a couple of seconds.

Tony could have cried with relief. There was the kid he knew.

"I'll forge you a note." Tony promised lightly. "You should have seen some of my more impressive ones in high-school, once I even-"

"Get down!"

Tony slammed Peter into the ground as soon as the words tore out of Steve's lips.

They'd been spotted.

A halo of bullets rained down around them. Tony chanced a glance upwards as light flooded into the trees where they were taking cover.

A helicopter. Shit.

"Dammit, this makes things more difficult."

Sam appeared beside Tony and Peter, sharing Tony's sentiments exactly. Peter cast a glance upwards as well.

And then he was no longer on the ground. Damn the kid was fast.

"I can take care of it."

With that he was gone.

Shooting a web up at the tree beside them, Peter hoisted himself into the air and took off after the helicopter.

"What?! No!" Tony screamed after him. Another downpour of bullets was the only answer he got. Seizing a handful of Sam's shirt, Tony pulled them both beneath a close-by tree.

Tony leaned around the trunk wildly, struggling to catch sight of Peter.

"Can you see him?!" Tony hissed at Sam – who was straining his neck around the other side of the tree in an effort to spot the kid as well.

"No." Sam breathed, ducking back around when the gunfire started up again. "God damn that kid is fast."

"What about the others?!"

Sam shook his head, "I don't-"

A wild, and guttural, roar cut him off.

Tony's breath caught in his throat, and heart slammed against his chest,

Sam's eyes snapped up to his.

"Is that-" Sam began, his eyes wide.

"-Bruce." Tony finished as the Hulk let another roar and the gunfire started up with even more ferocity.

Sam nodded. He leant back around the tree and froze. Tony followed his gaze and caught sight of the Hulk a few hundred feet away from them – tearing through dozens of soldiers in a wild rage.

"Does this make things better or worse for us?" Sam asked slowly.

Tony – who had already forgotten about the Hulk, and was once again searching the sky for any sign of Peter – didn't answer.

"We should-"

Tony never found out what they should do. Before Sam could get the words out a light erupted a few dozen feet away from the two of them – and an explosion ripped through the forest.

It tore through the tree Sam and Tony were taking cover behind, thrusting the two of them forcefully forward.

Tony collided the trunk of a nearby tree – hard. He spilled out across the forest floor, skidding a couple of feet in the dirt.

God. Everything was spinning. And screaming. Tony's ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn't hear the gunfire anymore. Couldn't hear anything.

He tore his eyes open, fighting to make his retinas stop spinning, and failing.

They slid closed again after a moment – sight of small body hurtling towards the ground imprinted on his eyelids.

Tony came to sharply.

The sounds of gunfire, and the stench of smoke and scorched skin, never resulted in a slow or gentle return to consciousness for Tony. And unfortunately he was startlingly familiar with both.

He shot up to his feet, his head screaming its disagreement with being upright. There was blood running down the back of his neck, sliding down through his hair and disappearing beneath his sweatshirt, and his eyes refused to focus, but nevertheless he trudged through the forest. Keeping low to the ground he hunted for any sign of the others. Sam had been close to him – he could remember that much – but the others?

A enraged roar coming from what remained of the compound told him where one of said team-mates were, but there was no sign of the others. Had Ross taken them? Killed them? Had he –

Tony stopped dead in his tracks when his agonisingly muddled, and probably concussed, brain finally shifted through all of the information that had been thrown at it in the last hour since the security alarm had sounded. All of a sudden everything snapped into place.

The image of a small, frail, body being thrown from the sky flashed across his mind, replaying like a bad cassette recoding. Again. And again. And a hundred more times after that.

Peter.

Peter had fallen.

Peter had fallen and Tony had done nothing.

Tony cast his eyes up, frantically searching the sky for even a glimpse of the kid. He wondered through the woods, sidestepping around small fires and praying for any hint of movement above. For any hint of that small, frustratingly fast, form.

And then he found it. Only it was in the sky.

The terrifyingly small body was crumpled, and unmoving, at the edge of the lake. Water was streaming over untameable curls, bare feet, and soaking through the white I survived my trip to New York t-shirt that still left an unshakeable stab of guilt in Tony's chest every time he saw it. Every time, except that one moment when his eyes settled on Peter – unmoving, broken, and laying face down in the lake. Because in that one moment Tony's chest felt so hollow that nothing could have pierced it.

"Peter."

He was sure he meant to scream the word, but it trickled through his lips as nothing more than a breath. A prayer.

Oh god. No.

Tony stumbled through the trees faster than he ever thought he could move. Crashing down to the bank of the lake in seconds. All caution forgotten.

"PETER!"

The kid didn't move.

Tony sprinted along the embankment, his feet splashing wildly through the icy water. No. No.

No.

"Peter..." The word ripped through his throat. Echoing through the trees. Tony slid to his knees. Rocks that littered the lake's floor cut into them painfully. Tony barely noticed. Instead he yanked the still body towards him, rolling the boy onto his back and cradling him to his chest.

"Peter...?" Tony breathed.

The boy didn't respond. Didn't move.

Didn't take a breath.

"No-" The word tore out of Tony's throat again. He leant down, pressing his fingers desperately against the kid's neck and letting his ear hover above Peter's lips. Praying that the breaths were just too fine for him to hear.

They weren't.

Absolute stillness met his fingertips as well. No matter how hard he pressed his fingers against the kid's neck, he couldn't find a pulse.

God. No. No.

"Peter?" Tony called, hysteria seeping in, pulling the boy closer. "Peter? Please...no. D-don't do this-please-Peter!?" Tony ran a shaking hand over the kid's head – smoothing away the sopping hair. "No, p-please-no. No."

The trees around him and Peter erupted suddenly with light. A moment later the roar of another explosion hit Tony's ears – so loud that it had him bending down over Peter, tucking the boy further into his chest, and clenching his teeth to keep himself from crying out. The sound echoed through his head for several seconds, ringing in his ears and drowning everything else out.

It woke up the part of his brain that had short-circuited when he'd first caught sight of Peter in the lake.

What was he doing? God – why was he wasting so much time?

Looking down at Peter he latched onto the slight warmth that he could still feel coming off the kid's skin, and the small hint of pink still in the his otherwise pale lips.

Tony was out of the water, with the kid cradled in his arms, in seconds. He pushed back up onto the bank of the lake and crashed back down to his knees, releasing Peter onto a dry patch of dirt. Without wasting another second Tony pulled up higher on his knees, tilted the kid's head back, threaded his hands together over that sopping I survived my trip to New York t-shirt and began pumping down over Peter's sternum. The kid's chest caved downward with each rough compression, but he remained otherwise motionless.

Thirty compressions. Two breaths.

Tony knew this. Knew the science behind it. Keep the blood pumping, and oxygenized, and you keep the brain alive. Keep the heart from decaying. Spur motion back into the lungs.

But, god...this was Peter.

"Come on, kid." Tony panted, shoving the heels of his palms continually into the kid's sternum. Hard. Tony could feel ribs giving way beneath his hands, but he didn't dare let up the pressure. This had to work. It had too.

Hope had blossomed in Tony's chest when his brain had finally kicked in, and he'd noted Peter's dwindling warmth. Warmth meant life. It meant that the kid hadn't been without a pulse for very long.

Meant that this was something Tony could fix. Had to fix.

"Come on, kid, please-" Tony breathed, reaching the end of his first set of compressions. He leant over the Peter's head, grasped onto his lax jaw and sealed his lips over the kid's. Pushing a breath of air into Peter's unmoving lungs. Looking down, Tony watched Peter's chest rise and fall with the forced breath, and then still.

He leant down and forced another breath down into the kid's lungs. Again Peter's chest rose and fell, and then stilled.

"Dammit kid, don't do this-" Tony barked, rising back up and folding his hands over Peter's chest again. He started on another round of compressions – rougher this time. Desperate. This had to work. It had to.

There was no alternative for Tony.

He cast his first real look over the kid's body. He had a small cut on his forehead, which was slowly oozing blood as Tony continued to pump the kid's chest, and a few burns scattered across his arms and bare feat – but other than that he looked all in one piece. On the outside at least.

God, Tony hoped there was no damage inside that he was currently making worse.

He finished up his round of compressions, and then leant back down over Peter's face and blew two breaths down into the kid's lungs. Pulling back slightly Tony pressed his fingers back against the pulse point at Peter's neck, and moved his ear to hover over the kid's lips.

Nothing.

Something very close to dread seeped down Tony's spine, but he refused to let it take root there. No.

No.

Dread meant he was failing. And he couldn't fail.

"Come on, kid." Tony hissed through his teeth, pulling back up and folding his hands back over Peter's sternum. He pushed down rhythmically. "Breathe dammit!" He ordered with no small amount of force.

God Tony was tired – his arms were aching with fatigue – but he wouldn't stop. Not ever if it meant this would work.

Tony fought through another cycle – barely pausing to catch a breath before leaning down and forcing it into Peter's still chest.

He pulled away and lifted his trembling fingers to feel for a pulse. Nothing.

"No. No. D-don't do this-" Tony pleaded, everything in the world fading away except his absolute need for the kid to breathe. He threaded his hands together over Peter's chest and resumed compressions. Pounding down on the kid's chest with every last piece of strength he had. "Come back," Tony panted. His helplessness morphing into rage, as the boy continued to lay, un-responsive, beneath his desperate hands. "You've never given up on anything in your life, so fight dammit."

Droplets of water dripped from Peter's sodden hair and trailed along his pale checks – spurred loose as his body shook with Tony's frantic compressions.

That small tint of pink in the kid's lips, which had ignited so much hope in Tony, was gone now. A hauntingly blue tinge had taken its place.

No. No. No. No. NO.

The word rung through Tony's head in time with his every shove as he continued to pump the otherwise motionless chest. This wasn't happening. It couldn't – he couldn't – no.

"No." The word slipped through Tony's clenched lips. He leaned over again and forced two breaths down into the kid's lungs – watching as his chest rose and fell with each – before pulling himself back up and settling over the his chest again, pumping down over the sternum with everything he had. "No. You can't have him."

Tony wasn't sure whom he was talking to. God? The universe? The soldiers that had done this? It didn't really matter. They could all go to hell – because Peter was staying right here. With him. Tony was going to make sure of it.

"You can't have him." Tony heaved, his head tilting forward in exhaustion, and pain, but his hands never wavering as they pressed down again and again on the small chest beneath him. It wasn't working. It wasn't –
"Anything – anything – else. You can have anything else, just give him back," Tony pleaded, pausing to blow two quick breaths into the kid's lungs, before pulling himself back up to continue pumping the still chest. "-Just give him back – give him back to me-"

A faint whirring sound was the only warning Tony got before something slammed into the embankment only a few feet in front of Peter and him. Tony pulled away – ready to cover Peter – when the achingly familiar silver, metal suit finally swam into focus and Rhodey stepped out.

Dressed in nothing but bright red boxers, his leg-braces and the watch that Tony had gifted him the Christmas before last – which allowed him to remotely call the suit – he looked absolutely ridiculous stepping out of the multimillion dollar war suit. Any other day Tony would have laughed, and commented wildly on every brilliant part of the picture in front of him.

Not today.

Not with the still unmoving boy beneath his hands.

Rhodey's eyes roomed over Tony, and then down to Peter beneath him. They froze there.

"Help me-"

Rhodey didn't need to be told twice.

He was at Peter's other side in seconds, pressing his fingertips against the kid's neck and peeling back one of his eyelids to check his pupils as Tony continued his set of compressions.

"How long has he been down?" Rhodey asked. His shoulders were tense as he leant down over Peter's head and ran his fingers probingly along his scalp – where the small laceration was still bleeding.

"A few minutes now." Tony ground out, breathing heavily with every shove on the kid's sternum. "I found him in the lake."

"The head wound doesn't look serious." Rhodey murmured, pulling up to watch Tony work through the last few compressions in his cycle. "Do you know what happened?"

"No." Tony breathed. "He fell. I know he fell, but I – I don't know what-"

Tony broke off and leant over Peter's head, tilting it back and blowing two breaths down into his chest. He pulled back up – ready to fight through another round of compressions – but Rhodey beat him to it.

Up on his knees, with his hands clasped together, he pumped the kid's chest rhythmically – his compressions far stronger and steadier than Tony's.

Leaving Tony with...nothing. Nothing to do but watch as Peter quaked beneath every shove of Rhodey's strong hands. Watch as the droplets continued to trail along his pale cheeks. Too pale.

Oh god. They were failing – Tony had failed. He still wasn't – he wasn't –

"Tony, breath!" Rhodey's voice cut through Tony's panic. Tony blinked up at his friend, who was still compressing Peter's chest even as he stared across at Tony, clearly panicked. "I need you to stay with me, okay? You need to breathe so you can breathe for him." Rhodey stressed, nodding down at Peter. Tony nodded jerkily. Rhodey hands paused after another moment – and it was the only cue Tony needed before he leant down and forced two more breaths into the kid's lungs.

Rhodey resumed compressions as soon as Tony pulled away.

"You can't go into shock yet, alright?" Rhodey ordered, his eyes locking onto Tony's. "I know this is hard, but you need to-"

"-Shock."

Rhodey stared at Tony as if he'd lost his mind – which to be fair in the last few minutes he probably had.

"Tony – what?"

"Shock."

Tony was on his feet and stumbling towards the stationary War Machine suit before his barely function brain fully caught up with him. Shock.

Defibrillator.

Tony dug his fingertips into the still-open breastplate of the suit and tore into the inside lining. His hands screamed in pain at the abuse – blood spilling from gashes where the suits metal edges cut deep into the flesh – but he didn't have time to be gentle.

Peter didn't have time for him to be gentle.

Tony had installed a defibrillator into Rhodey's suit years ago now. It was fastened to the inside breastplate, which remained pressed tight against his friend's chest whenever he was in the suit and could therefore be utilized if something were to happen and Rhodey was still inside. It ran on its own power-source and was programed to activate if Rhodey's heart rate ever dropped or spiked to a certain point. He'd added it as an afterthought. Something that made him feel a little better about Rhodey being out there alone – but something he'd hoped to god that his friend would never have need to use.

Tony had never been more thankful for his crippling anxiety than in that moment – because his all-consuming fear of loosing Rhodey a few years back might actually help him save Peter today.

"Tony!?"

Tony finally pulled the last piece of the makeshift defibrillator free and lunged back towards Rhodey and Peter.

"Get his shirt off." Tony ordered, his voice firm and his hands steady as he set about connecting the de-fib pads that he'd ripped free of the breastplate back to the small, isolated power source that he'd stored lower down in the armor.

Rhodey didn't hesitate. Pulling his hands away from where they were pumping Peter's chest he seized handfuls of the kid's shirt and pulled. The cheap fabric ripped down the middle, and he shoved it away roughly.

Tony leant down and smoothed the de-fib pads over Peter's bare chest – one high on the right side, just near his heart, and the other on his lower left– and then dove back to the small reactor battery that was charging them.

"Move back." Tony barked, and Rhodey pulled away from the boy between them.

Tony connected the last lead to the small, reactor battery – just for a second – and Peter's body jolted.

And then fell back to the ground. Motionless.

No. No, this had to work.

Rhodey was back up on his knees and pressing down the kid's chest before he'd even fallen still. When he paused at the end of his set Tony abandoned the battery in his hands for the moment and leant over to blow two breaths down into Peter's lungs.

They continued their cycle – Rhodey grounding out thirty strong compressions and Tony delivering two quick breaths – as Tony kept a hand rested against Peter's throat. Feeling for any kind of flutter beneath his fingers. After a couple more rounds he felt it – a pulse fighting to thrum in time with Rhodey's hands.

"Stop." Tony breathed, snatching up the battery that he'd abandoned on the dirt beside him. Rhodey pulled his hands away.

Tony connected the last lead from the de-fib pads to the battery and Peter's body jerked violently again.

Rhodey moved forwards to clasp his hands over the kid's sternum again, but before he could Peter's chest suddenly heaved as he gaged, and then sucked in a small breath.

"PETER!?"

Tony was leaning over him in an instant, tugging the boy onto his side as he gaged. Rhodey slid a hand under his head, lifting it slightly to ease the pressure the odd angle put on the kid's neck, as Tony pounded an open palm into his back.

A lungful of water trickled steadily from the kid's lips as he coughed brutally.

Eventually the gaging stopped and Peter was able to suck in another labored breath. Tony inched closer, rubbing a hand firmly against the kid's back to help clear his lungs, and smoothing the Peter's mop of hair back with the other.

What he found beneath made his chest clamp.

Peter's eyes were open – half-lidded and very clearly out of it – but somewhat aware. They flittered upwards towards Tony and stayed there.

"You're okay," Tony breathed, resting a gentle hand on the kid's forehead as Rhodey pulled away and rushed back to the suit – calling for help.

Peter's eyes blinked slowly but didn't look away. His breaths were coming in short pants, but it was something.

It was life. And Tony could work with life.

"You're going to be okay." Tony murmured, thick tears openly sliding down his cheeks and falling onto Peter's forehead – mixing with the last few droplets of water from the river.

The knot that had formed in Tony chest the moment he saw Peter face down in the lake finally started to loosen – and when it did the rest of the world came back into sharper focus.

The forest around them was still cracking with small fires, and in the distance he could hear the sound of the Hulk tearing through what he was sure used to be the foundations of his compound.

"Your team is safe." Rhodey said, moving back towards Peter and Tony. He settled on Peter's other side again – resting a hand on the kid's side as if he, too, needed the physical confirmation that the he was breathing. "They've been trying to get through on the radio. The intruders are gone – pulled back as soon as the Hulk made his appearance. The team managed to salvage some comms. from the soldiers and were spread out in the woods looking for the two of you." Rhodey nodded at Tony and Peter. "They should be here in a few minutes."

Tony nodded, but he was only half listening. He'd tuned out as soon as Rhodey had told him the others were safe. That was all he cared about – everything else in that moment, with Peter alive and cradled against his chest, was inconsequential.

The whole damn world could have been on fire and it wouldn't have mattered – because Tony's no longer was. Everything that really mattered was here, and whole, and breathing.

Peter woke to a quiet beeping and the startling realization that he didn't know where he was. This bed was far too soft to be his lumpy mattress, and the semi-lit room was almost silent, which his never was. Crappy insulation and shitty neighbors meant that Peter's room was almost always buzzing with some kind of noise – be it from the street below or the neighbors going at it – but all he could hear now was soft snores ruffling the air beside his bed.

He forced his eyes open through sheer stubbornness. They ached something shocking, just like the rest of him, but he had to get them open.

Something had happened. Something important.

Dim light seared through his skull when his eyelids finally flickered upwards. Wherever he was, it was dark, but not pitch black. A small – and expensive looking – lamp sat alight on the beside-table and it illuminated just enough of the room to settle Peter's panic.

Namely, it illuminated Tony.

Peter turned his head slowly – pain shooting through his skull and chest as he did – to look at the older man.

He was sprawled on a plush looking armchair, one arm folded under his chin as he slept and the other resting on the bed beside one of Peter's. Next to him hospital equipment was set up – all leads and monitors running down to Peter's arms and chest – but despite that the room didn't look like it belonged to a hospital.

It was far too nice for that. There was a leather sofa on the other side of the room that Peter was willing to bet cost more than everything in his room, and – no matter what time it was – no hospital was ever this quiet.

Not to mention the bed.

So. Soft.

So delectably soft.

Nope. Peter had absolutely no idea where he was – or what had happened that landed him here. But he found, after a couple of moment of watching Tony drool onto a suit that definitely cost more than May's entire apartment, that he really didn't care.

Sleep was calling him again. He could feel it at the edge of his already waning consciousness.

Whatever had happened, and wherever he was now, it could wait.

Tony was right there – so Peter knew he was going to be just fine.