Date: -

Location: -

Time: -

The wind howled up here, pushing and wrapping around his body, moaning in his ears, crying and scratching against his skin, whipping the hair across his face.

A ripple of thunder rolled overhead. The clouds, which had been holding back the rain for the majority of the day, had finally relented their grip, allowing a small trickle of drops that had slowly grown into a steady downpour. Now, the drops - thick and black and heavy - splattered down against the rusted metal of the bridge which he sat atop, bouncing back up and pooling down the sides of the structure, falling into the black inky pool of splashing waves and roaring hum of the waters below.

Falling, falling, falling...

It stung, the sharp pricks of rain smacking the exposed skin of his face, the only skin that truly was exposed. His mask lay beside him. He didn't have the stomach to try and put it back on.

Little needles...poking, prodding...

His ears roared, each and every little sound tuned up to a hundred, amplified in his ears, ringing in his head. The cars down below sped past on the bridge, the bright headlights streaking past in glossy colors of bright white and yellow, like a watercolor painting dripping down a canvas, the colors bleeding into each other. The humming of the whizzing cars mixed with the rushing wind, cold and biting, stinging his eyes.

Cold...cold...

He was cold.

He was back in Ms. O'Hara's room. Back in the Dark Room. It was too cold. It wasn't just in his throat now, freezing his tongue to the roof of his mouth; it was everywhere. He could feel it underneath his skin, crawling around like bugs just underneath the surface, like spiders, creepy crawly, spreading and seeping into his muscles and curling around his bones, He could feel it on his face, each drop of water dripping down in frozen little pins that rung like tiny bells when they rolled off his face and fell into the puddles of water pooling around him.

Plink, ting, plinkity...

He could feel his body changing. Icicles were forming on the tips of his hair. Frost coated his retinas. His skin was ice, his blood slush. Each exhale was a frosty blizzard that made his teeth chatter like glass, sharp and pointy.

Peter Parker was a nice little ice sculpture sitting atop the Brooklyn Bridge.

Pretty. Display only. Don't Touch.

He glanced down at his hands, partly to make sure they were still there. He couldn't feel them.

The beads of the necklace clattered together, the wind carrying the tiny little noises and brushing them past his ears. It was dark up there. The few lights attached to the cables of the bridge did little in the downpour, the rain seeming to wash away the beams, wash them out, wash the spider out. He stared down at the necklace, watching the rain slide down the rounded beads and pool into his palm.

Would it sink in the water?

Would he sink?

He could feel the hard back of the chair in her office. He could feel the chains around his wrists, the jolts running through his muscles, seizing the breath from his lungs. It puffed around his mouth in a cloud of foggy white haze. He was breathing. He was breathing. No water. Just air.

Breathe.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but found it only bobbed up and down and stayed firmly locked. A harsh flash of bright white light illuminated the sky, slashing through the dark clouds and bathing him in a flash of jolting light and burning heat that crackled against his skin and made the rain glow in brilliant pearls of liquid silver. The roll of thunder that soon followed ripped through the air, shuddering the bridge and making his heart falter in its beat as the crackle blew past his ears and made him shut his eyes and curl his head away, as if he could somehow escape the booming screech.

Escape, run, hide.

He took a shuddering breath, blowing out another puff that swirled before his eyes. His body shivering as the rain continued to fall, relentless and unwavering. He turned his gaze back down to his hands, back to the shining orbs curling around his fingers. He blinked the water out of his eyes and let his gaze travel past his curled hands and to the frothing river below.

Cold, cold, so cold...

Why was he so cold?

 

---

 

Wednesday - April 27, 2016

Department of Damage Control Storage Center - DC Division A

11:51 p.m.

The sound of leaves crunching underneath his boots mixed in with the rustling sounds of the forest as Steve pressed his back against the rough bark of the tree, steeling his breath as he raised a hand to his earpiece. "Everyone in position?" he whispered softly.

One by one, each of his teammates' voices filtered in through the coms, making him nod and shut his eyes in prep.

The jet had landed hours ago in the forest surrounding the Damage Control Facility, Shuri's stealth tech allowing them to go undetected as they'd laid low for the hours it took for the sun to finally set below the treeline. Sneaking into the facility after hours would be immensely easier than trying to break in while normal employees were still roaming. Now that it was nearly midnight and the night guard would be switching shifts, they had a window they couldn't miss.

Steve snuck a small glance up at the moon, which was partially covered by a few clouds but still noticeably bright, illuminating the moss-covered ground in bright white light. His face curled up slightly in displeasure at the sight, for he knew the added light wouldn't make their covert operation any easier.

As if on cue, the clouds surrounding the moon parted further, allowing even more light to shine around him. Steve threw a glare up at the moon's speckled face, which smirked in response.

He didn't have much time to dwell, however, as Sam's voice rang out over the coms.

"Heads up, guys. Next shift's pulling in."

Steve craned his neck to peer around the trees, watching as a dark van pulled up to the gates of the large facility. He could hear the mechanisms inside the gate whirling as they split apart to allow the car to enter, quickly sliding shut with a resounding clang.

"Two minutes. Should be enough time for them to get to their stations and interact with the guards already on shift. That's our window." Natasha said over the transmission.

"Stand by," Steve murmured softly as he cast his eyes over the building. It was fairly large with around fifteen floors if the blueprints Hill had given them were anything to go by. On the front of the building was the Damage Control logo, large and hard to miss. Still, it could have been mistaken for any other government building if it wasn't for the security measures scattered around the entire strip of land.

The gates situated around the building were concrete, raising at least ten feet into the air, with an automated opening covered by thick steel bars that lowered into the floor with granted entry. Heat sensors and scanners were situated atop the gate itself, as well as the roof and the front entrance of the building. Tall satellite towers stretched upwards from the guarded roof, the bright red light blinking brightly in the darkness. And even the surrounding land, which was mostly nothing but bare grass leading into the forest they currently hid in was covered with heat sensors, motion trackers, and an electric fence surrounding the entire plot just as an added measure, waiting for any suspecting thieves to just attempt to break in.

Steve could spot a tracker now, blinking dully in the tree branches just a little farther ahead. He and his team were on the perimeter, as close as they could possibly get without setting off the alarms.

He raised a hand to his ear once again. "Sam, you ready?"

"On standby."

"Wait for my signal."

Steve kept his eyes locked on the building, narrowing them ever so slightly as he began to adjust the straps on his twin shields. "Wanda, Clint. You guys good to go?"

"I'm ready."

"I'm ready to get this over with."

The soldier couldn't help but roll his eyes at the archer's pointed annoyance but chose not to comment as he took a small step back and stared through the trees. He was just able to make out the shadowed form of Clint crouching atop the high branches of one of the taller oak trees farther into the distance, closer to the building itself. Down at the base of the tree, a small glimmer of glowing red light notified him of Wanda's presence.

Natasha's voice crackled again. "Ten seconds, Steve."

"Alright. Sam, Clint, on my mark."

The man glanced back over towards the sensors and sucked in another breath. "Now."

Clint reached behind him and pulled out a small projectile right as a flying drone shot through the trees, whizzing past Steve's head and flying right underneath the trackers. They blinked, lights switching from a steady red to a flashing yellow as the trackers switched their trajectories to follow the drone's path. At the same time, the archer pulled back the projectile and let it loose, an arrow that soared through the air in a clear-shot path straight up to the roof, where it hit the metal leg of the satellite branch and let loose a small electrical charge that sparked up small bits of blue light before falling dark once more.

"Everyone GO!"

With his own words still ringing in his throat, Steve began to sprint through the trees. He watched as Clint leapt down from his branch, only to be caught in a whirl of red light as Wanda began to levitate both him and herself up into the air. The girl turned towards Steve and watched as he approached, giving a small nod of her head before he too leapt up into the air.

The familiar tingling sensation of her energy wrapped tightly around his body, propelling him into the air as the girl began to shoot all three of them towards the roof, her eyes scrunched in concentration as she pushed them forward, the wind slamming against their faces as they flew. As soon as they were overtop the roof, her magic dissipated with a flourish of red light, Steve's boots landing heavily on the floor.

He glanced over towards Wanda as the girl blew out a heavy breath, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a questioning look, to which she waved him off with a reassuring little grin. He nodded and turned his attention towards the cameras mounted around the roof, gaze wary.

Clint seemed to notice his look and walked over to where his fired arrow was still sticking attached to the metal leg of the satellite. "Don't worry," he murmured, pulling the arrow away from the metal and sticking it back into his quiver. "Hill's scrambling code worked perfectly. Camera's are on a thirty second loop."

"And Redwing's keeping the motion trackers nice and preoccupied," Sam called as he soared overhead, Natasha tucked close to his hip. He quickly dropped her down next to Steve and retracted the wings into his back, engines dying down with a soft hiss. "Any motion they detect out there they'll probably just chalk up to an owl of something."

Steve nodded his head. "Make sure to call it back soon. Don't want the guards getting suspicious of too much commotion down there."

As Sam stepped closer, Scott suddenly materialized from atop his shoulder, landing on the ground with a thunk and an unceremonious stumble. He quickly righted himself and lifted the face-plate on his helmet, pouting slightly at the pointed looks he received. "What? It was a janky flight!"

"Excuse me?"

"Focus up, people," Steve murmured, walking past the two and striding over towards the rooftop stairway, ignoring the pointed bickering he could still hear coming from the two men.

Clint and Natasha were already by the door, glancing up at the added cameras and scanners sitting above it. "That scrambler took down everything automated out here, but it's a different story in the actual building. Cameras are gonna be fully functioning down there."

Natasha fiddled with her wrists, lighting up the Spider Bytes and sending a small surge of blue light traveling down the etched patterns of her suit. "I can take care of them."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "The guards are going to start getting suspicious when the camera feeds start going out one by one."

"Then we'll have to work fast."

The super soldier gave a firm nod of his head and turned towards the rest of the team. "You all remember the plan?"

Sam and Wanda nodded back while Scott gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Good. You have your orders. Remember: covert. Get in. Get what we need and get out. Don't let anybody see you. We meet back at the jet. Good luck."

"Aye-eye, Captain!" With that, Scott activated his suit and shrank once again, leaping towards the vent shafts and sliding right through the grates before disappearing into the darkness. Clint blew out a long sigh and rubbed his face, walking over towards the vents and ripping the covers off. "You just had to leave me to babysit Scott, huh?"

Sam smirked at him. "Make sure to have him in bed by 8."

Clint gave a mocking laugh before flipping him the bird and sliding through the vent as well.

Steve pointed towards Sam. "Keep watch for any outgoing distress signals. If we need a quick escape, head back to the jet and start it up. Hopefully it won't come to that."

Wanda folded her arms. "Right, cause we're just so lucky with those sorts of things."

The soldier walked back over towards the door, poking the girl in the arm as he brushed past her. "Positive attitudes."

She rolled her eyes and shared an amused glance with Natasha, who just shook her head.

With Clint and Scott already on their way to the weapons vaults, Steve pulled open the door, the magnetic lock having been deactivated with the pulse scrambler. He shared one last look with the girls before beginning his descent, shields out and ready.

The stairwell was dimly lit, the dull white light shining against the cold metal of the steps and handrails. He could hear the footsteps of his teammates behind him as they walked down the spiral staircase, the soldier pulling up the holo-map projection of the building's blueprints Hill had managed to score for them. "According to this, the main server is located in the East Wing on sublevel-B2"

Natasha craned her neck to glance over his shoulder. "The sublevels are only accessible by elevator, which run automatically with specialized key-cards. You got a plan for that?"

"We'll deal with that when we get to it."

They had reached the door leading into the main building by this point, Steve pressing his back against the adjacent wall for a brief moment before slowly turning the handle and pushing open the heavy metal door.

It only took a second to deduce the hallway was empty and another to note the camera blinking in the far top corner of the hall. Steve glanced back at Natasha, who gave a firm nod of her head. She took a deep breath before quickly whirling out the door and into the hallway, whipping her arm up and firing a small Byte at the camera, which quickly fizzled out as soon as it made contact with the electrical charge.

Steve didn't waste any time as he ran past the woman and began to quickly make his way down the hallway, the others quickly following on his heels. He didn't spare much time to look around at his surroundings, but as they made their way down the halls, taking out cameras as they did so, he couldn't help but take note of a few details of the building.

The walls, ceiling and floor were all the same metallic gray color, shiny, pristine and cold. Every few hallways would contain floor to ceiling windows that allowed view of the entire outside facility, complete with courtyard and parking lot. He took note of the numerous side halls and stairs that would most likely lead them deeper in the maze of a building if it wasn't for the blueprints.

As they came up on another intersection of paths, Steve halted his stride and raised his arms, signaling the girls to stop as well.

"What is it?"

"Guards. Two of them."

He could hear their shoes scuffling against the floor, their voices echoing softly in his ears. Judging from the fact that Wanda and Natasha obviously couldn't hear them yet, the guards were still a considerable distance away.

The man hesitated for a moment before deciding they couldn't afford to wait. The longer they stalled, the more time the guards had to figure out what was going on with the cameras and send out more patrols to investigate.

He motioned for them to keep going, glancing back down at the holomap before choosing on a direction. It wasn't long after that they reached another hallway intersection and came upon the sublevel elevator. As Natasha had said before, there was no operating panel; no buttons to push, only a card scanner on the side wall.

Wanda turned to Steve. "Now what?"

The soldier craned his ears once more, pinpointing just how close the previous guards were now. They were getting closer. Perfect.

"Now we wait."

Natasha furrowed her brows in confusion. "Steve...?"

The man didn't respond, only moved over towards the wall opposite the elevator, where the guards would be appearing from any second. The woman gave pause for a moment before she blinked in realization and slowly began to back up towards the wall also, grabbing Wanda's wrist and dragging her back as well. The younger girl gave a confused look, but paused as Natasha whispered something in her ear.

The girl glanced back at Steve, who gave a reassuring nod.

With that, the three waited, pressing themselves up against the wall facing the elevator, positioned in such a way that anybody coming down the hallway towards the elevator wouldn't be able to see them on account of the walls blocking their view. After another few moments, the guards were close enough now that even Wanda and Natasha could hear them.

"-plans for the weekend?"

"Nothing real interesting. You?"

"Barbara's heading upstate to visit her parents so I'm on babysitting detail. Not the best with a potty-training toddler."

"Still no luck with Jack?"

"What can I say. The kid hates toilets. I don't blame him."

"Well, when I was having issues with Ashley, Nancy and I got this book. I thought it was a total waste of money, but like, four days later, the kid was singing songs on the frikkin toilet seat! I think I still have it if you want to-"

As soon as the guards stepped into the intersection of the two hallways, Steve pushed himself off the wall and rammed into the first guard's back, throwing him off balance and wrenching his arms behind his back before he could even blink. The other guard whipped her head around, instinctively reaching for her gun, only for Natasha to sweep her legs and for Wanda to curl her in wisps of red energy before she could even hit the ground.

Before the two guards could open their mouths or shout any sort of warning, more red tendrils were wrapping around their mouths, effectively silencing them. Their wide eyes followed the movements of the Rogues as Natasha began to run her hands down the female guard's uniform, pulling off the keycard clipped to her belt. Steve watched her, keeping his guard pressed up against the wall with minimal effort.

Widow quickly rushed over to the elevator and swiped the card, watching as a green light blinked on and the whirring of the elevator reached their ears. She glanced towards Steve and gave a nod. He turned to Wanda. "Just like we practiced."

The girl took a deep breath. "Right."

Slowly, more wisps of red energy began to seep from her hands, cautiously winding towards the guards. They tried to say something, but their words were muffled and unintelligible. The wisps wrapped around their heads, piercing their temples. Wanda shut her eyes as a look of concentration swept over her face, the guards' eyes quickly shifting to a deep crimson before they shut and their bodies fell limp.

The girl let go of the breath she'd been holding, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat at the maneuver. It was never something to be taken lightly, messing with people's heads. That much she knew now. The churning feeling in her stomach was alleviated slightly by the approving nod Steve gave her.

Steve gently lowered the guard in his arms down to the floor while Wanda did the same with hers, their gentle snores now emanating around the room. Natasha waved at them right as the elevator appeared.

The soldier pressed a hand to his ears. "Barton. Lang. We're heading down to the sublevels. Give me an update."

 

---

 

"So anyway, I'm thinking we keep the logo on the front and maybe have some dad jokes printed on the back. What do you think? Do you know how awesome we'll look in matching shirts, man?! Although, it might be a bit of a challenge finding an underground shirt-making company that caters to wanted criminals. Maybe there's something online, like an Angie's List for Felons. You know, there was a sight I used called CozyHomes that got me a great quote for a window repair this one time. Maybe they have a black market sister sight or something. Anyway, what should we call ourselves since you're so set against Dad's United. The Dad Pack? Daditude?"

"Status? I'm about five seconds from pulling out the RAID and gas bombing this little-"

"Barton-"

Clint sighted and cut himself off before he could say anything more. "We're almost at the drop point," he muttered into the coms, cursing Steve for just about the fifth time in the past ten minutes for sticking him with their resident toddler as both he and Scott continued to crawl through the vents towards the weapons vault.

"Correction, Papa Bear. We're here." Scott called from over his shoulder, jamming a thumb down towards the floor below them, the sight of the vault visible through the vents. Clint paused in his movements both from the sight of the vault and from Scott's words, throwing the man a pointed look.

"What? You don't wanna be Papa Bear? I'll be Papa Bear."

Swallowing whatever response he had to that, Clint raised a hand to the coms once more. "Rogers, we're here. Stand by. If these thugs really are breaking into this place and taking their shit directly from the vault, we'll know soon enough."

With that, the archer kicked out the paneling and dropped down to the floor in a graceful crouch, only to yelp as he felt a crushing weight drop down right on top of him, flattening him to the floor. He groaned and lifted his head, coming nose to nose with Scott.

"...You're very squishy."

"Lang...I really need you to get away from me right now, like...just for your safety. "

"Right."

Quickly separating and placing a good few feet between him and Clint, Scott raised his head to take in the huge metal door standing before him. It was at least a good twenty feet tall, with bright yellow cautionary lines painted into the surrounding metallic frame.

"Jeez...what the heck are they holding in there? Dinosaurs?"

Clint reached into his quiver and began to adjust the coils on his bow. "Nope. These things are a bit more dangerous than dinosaurs."

"Yeah, how so?"

"Trust me. You don't wanna know."

He pulled out an arrow and began to slip it into the notch on his bow. "Alright, Lang. You see that control box up there? That's the automated control for the vault's security door. Now these things close up tight for the night and don't reopen until morning, even with the right access card so I'm gonna need you to get in there and work your shit."

Scott nodded and quickly shrunk down. Clint crouched down and dipped his arrow down to the floor, watching the tiny form of his teammate leap onto the tip. He straightened back up and took aim. "You ready?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Just...this is a normal arrow right, not one of those 'shooty, explosiony, send me all over the walls' type of arrow, right."

He sighed. "Just get the goddamn door open."

"Yes, Mama Bear."

Sucking in a deep, deep breath, Clint steadied his arm and locked eyes with the control panel situated above the huge doors before loosing and letting both the arrow and his partner fly through the air. The arrow lodged into the concrete right next to the panel, leaving Lang with a good launching pad for the box.

Considering both how high up the box was and how tiny his teammate was, Clint couldn't tell what was happening as he shuffled from one foot to the other, casting continuous cautionary glances behind his back, expecting a horde of guards to come flooding in any second.

After another minute and a couple more wary glances, Clint raised a hand to his com. "How we doing, Scott?"

He received his answer in the form of a loud groaning sound. The man whipped his head back towards the door, watching as the horizontal crease in the center began to grow, the two doors parting away, one sliding up into the ceiling and the other dropping down into the floor. Clint cracked a small smile, watching as Scott suddenly expanded into view in front of him. "I don't know. I think I'm doing pretty good. How 'bout you?"

The archer said nothing, striding past the man with an approving pat on the shoulder before the two of them were stepping into the vault.

"Holy shit."

"Ch'yeah. No kidding."

The room was about the size of a football field with bright white walls and matching floors. Huge shipping containers lined said walls, one on top of another on top of another like a child's building blocks. On the back wall, a huge shelving unit reached from floor to ceiling, filled with boxes upon boxes of glowing purple weapons while giant cylindrical containers stretched from the front wall all the way to the back.

Scott continued to walk further into the room, twisting around on his heel as his head swiveled back and forth, eyes wide and mouth agape. "So...this is where they keep all that alien junk?"

Clint narrowed his eyes as he scanned over the vault. "No. This is just a fraction of it. Who knows how much of that shit is still out there...unaccounted for?" The archer paused as he caught sight of a large computer screen sitting next to the vault door, the Damage Control logo flashing across it every few seconds.

"Bingo." In a couple of strides he was at the computer, pulling out the keyboard that sat in the wall just underneath the screen itself. Scott pulled his head away from the sights as he watched Clint begin to type something up on the keyboard. He furrowed his brow and walked over. "What are you doing?"

Clint didn't look up from the screen. "This is the virtual database for the vault. Everything that comes in here or goes out is logged into this system. If there have been any containers taken from this particular vault-" he glanced back at Scott. "-we'll know soon enough."

Scott blinked at him before turning his eyes back to the screen. He watched as the Damage Control logo disappeared and a database list appeared instead. Clint scanned through the files before pulling up the weapons section and expanding the folder.

Suddenly, a holographic projection extended out from the screen itself, displaying the collection of organized weapons, cores and other assorted alien technology that had been gathered. Clint lifted his hands away from the keyboard and began to scroll through the hologram, eyes scanning for any missing boxes or out-of-place time stamps.

"Well? Anything?" Scott asked after a moment of watching the archer go through the file.

Clint furrowed his brow and pulled away from the screen, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a frown. "No. Nothing. Everything's accounted for here. Nothing's out of line. Not even a time stamp labeled wrong." He turned towards Scott. "However those gangs are getting this tech, it's not from the facility itself."

Scott shrugged. "Makes sense. What street thug is gonna be able to break into a government weapon's base, hack the cameras and pry those vault doors open without anybody noticing "

The archer didn't seem satisfied as he folded his arms. "So, question is: how are they getting it?"

 

---

 

Thursday - April 28, 2016

Stark Tower - First Floor Lobby

12:03 a.m.

Tony didn't bother glancing around the lobby as he shambled towards the elevator, head down and eyes focused in the universal 'don't bother me' stance. He grimaced and lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck, wondering how his neck could feel like he'd slept on it wrong if he hadn't slept in the past two days. Was it two days? Maybe it was three? Probably four, honestly.

He stumbled into the elevator, the doors of which closing automatically, before the floor lurched slightly and the compartment began to ascend back to the common floor. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth against the wave of pain that washed over his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths before the pain began to subside, if only for the moment.

Honestly, the urge to curl up on the floor right here and now was incredibly tempting. After spending the entire day arguing and fending off Ross' maulings, the billionaire felt he was owed a little down-time.

Tony thought of the bar, wondering how many drinks it would take for him to pass out tonight. Judging from how tired he already felt, he doubted it would take much. At least in his alcoholic states of unconsciousness, he couldn't dream. especially since any dreams tonight would probably involve some crack-pot interpretation of mountains of paperwork and some demonly figure that shares a suspicious resemblance to a certain Secretary of State.

Tony let out a low growl as he thought back to the Secretary, how hard it had been to finally get the son of a bitch to leave. After finally getting him off of the Office floors, he'd spent another hour just getting the man to the lobby. Ross continued to insist there was more they needed to discuss, to which Tony's reply would be that they'd have plenty of time at their next meeting, which he assumed was to take place in Hell.

As the billionaire thought back on the Secretary with less-than-pleasant thoughts, his mind couldn't help but drift back to what he'd finally had to say to get the man into the elevator, everything he'd said about Peter.

His stomach churned as he thought back over everything he said, everything Ross would have expected him to say. It was disgusting, everything he'd said. What was even more disgusting was the fact that once upon a time, Tony really would have believed everything he'd said. Two months ago, if someone had told him that he'd be wrapped up in such a mess, worrying over some kid he stumbled upon in a home-made Halloween costume swinging around the city, he would have kicked them out of his goddamn tower.

For all intents and purposes, with everything he was currently dealing with, Ross, the Accords, the Rogues, the media, Peter was...Peter was a wild card he hadn't been expecting...nor prepared for. But unwanted? If Tony could really go back and choose, if he could decide to take Peter out of the equation altogether, leave out the kid's problems and focus on fixing his own...would he do it?

He pushed the thoughts aside with another angry growl. He was way too tired to be dealing with such intrusive thoughts right now. Best to leave it for another night when he wasn't five minutes away from a drinking game where the only players were himself and the nearest trashcan.

A tired sigh pushed its way through Tony's lips as the elevator doors slid open onto his common floor. Outside, the storm raged on, rain pounding against his window in thick heavy drops. He ran a hand down his face as he trudged across the floor, shoes scuffing against the cold surface before he finally reached the couch, where he promptly collapsed with a loud groan.

He rested the crook of his arm against his face as he rested the back of his head against the lip of the couch, content to sit in silence for just a second.

"Boss?"

Okay, he didn't mean a literal second.

He didn't remove his arm from his face as he spoke. "What is it, FRIDAY? Daddy doesn't want to play right now."

"Boss, I've received an emergency alert from the Spider-Man suit."

His eyes flew open and a strangled noise fell from his lips as he hastily sat up faster than he expected his body to move. "What? What are you talking about?"

"His heart rate is elevated though there are no signs of any physical injuries to cause such a reaction nor any extreme cases of exertion. His body temperature is also extremely low, most likely from the outer temperatures and prolonged exposure to the current weather conditions."

The man blinked up at the ceiling, trying to register what exactly the AI was saying. "Prolonged exp- Wait a minute. FRIDAY, when did you get the notification?"

"Twenty-five minutes ago."

He jolted up this feet and stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. "What?! Why the hell am I hearing about it now?!"

"You gave me explicit instructions to not disturb your meeting with the Secretary for 'any reason'"

The man gritted his teeth as he quickly rushed towards the stairs. "FRIDAY, new rule! Anything concerning Spider-Man gets top priority! You hear me? TOP!" He didn't bother listening to her response as he began to run towards the outer platform of the tower, pressing down on the sensor bracelets he kept on his wrists at all times. Tapping down on them, he heard the tell-tale whirring of the walls opening up.

As soon as he opened the door to the outer launch balcony, parts of the suit were shooting out of the wall, enclosing around his limbs and chest. The wind whipped across his face, Tony shutting his eyes against the force before his helmet closed down around his head. Jesus. What the hell is the kid doing outside right now? He thought to himself as his propulsors burst to life, allowing him to hover in the air.

"Where is he, FRIDAY?"

"His suit tracker indicates he's atop the Brooklyn Bridge and has been for the past half-hour."

Instantly, a cold claw of dread seized Tony's heart, nearly making him fall back down to the balcony. He tried to swallow the lump that quickly formed in his throat, but found it was as solid as a rock. His stomach churned dangerously as the billionaire's mind began to fill with unwanted thoughts, explanations as to why the kid was atop one of the highest structures in the city in the middle of a thunderstorm obviously contemplating...something.

Tony literally shook the thought away. There was no way. Peter was...there was just no way. "Get me there, FRIDAY. Now."

He shot forward like a rocket but it still felt like he was trying to run through water: slow and clumsy and Not. Fast. Enough.

 

---

 

Thursday - April 28, 2016

Department of Damage Control Storage Center - DC Division A

12:15 a.m.

Steve pulled his hand away from the com and turned back towards the girls, who were both giving him expectant looks. "Barton says the vault's clean. Nothing shady. No missing cases."

"So...what does that mean?" Wanda asked.

Natasha glanced up at the sign overtop the door they all stood before. Registry A-1 "It means this better have the answers we're looking for...otherwise we're back to square one."

Eyeing the key pad next to the door, the woman swiped the card they'd stolen off the disabled guard, only for the light to remain red and an automated voice to sound. "Unauthorized access. Insufficient clearance." She shared a look with Steve, who took a small step back before ramming his body forward, literally knocking the door off its hinges and sending it crashing to the floor, where it clattered with a loud clang.

Inside were rows upon rows of different monitors and screens, each displaying the Damage Control logo. On the back wall was a stretch of different servers, wires and circuitry that had Steve wishing for their resident tech genius for just fraction of a second before he was shoving the thought aside. He turned to Nat. "Hurry. We don't have much time before the guards start to investigate."

She nodded and made her way over to the closest computer. She reached into one of her belt compartments and pulled out a small silver flash drive, plugging it into the computer before typing away.

"Aright...let's see exactly what's been going on here."

The light from the screens illuminated the dark room in swathes of white, their shadows extending into the walls. Steve kept his ears pricked for any distant sounds of footfalls, but heard nothing except for the soft tapping of Natasha's fingers as they flew across the keyboard. Her eyes were hard and focused as she scanned them across the screen.

After a few moments, he heard her click her tongue and press it into the side of her cheek.

"What do you got, Nat?"

She didn't respond at first, scrolling down the screen and reading through the registry. After another few seconds, she spoke but didn't take her eyes off the screen or stop typing. "Well...according to this, this particular facility has received 23 separate shipments of parts in the past two months alone, mainly coming in from Manhattan. Apparently, there's still a ton of alien tech that's yet to be collected."

Wanda cocked a brow, placing a hand on her hip. "Seriously? The attack on New York was four years ago and they still haven't cleaned it all up yet?"

Nat gave a small shake of her head. "You weren't there, kid. You didn't see just what we were dealing with." She turned her head and shared a small look with Steve. He said nothing, just took a small breath and glanced away. She turned back to the screen and continued. "We're lucky there's still a city for this tech to hide in. Figures, there's gonna be a couple scraps that have fallen by the wayside."

"Which is exactly what this company was created for. To make sure that tech didn't fall into the wrong hands," Steve sighed.

Wanda pursed her lips. "Well apparently someone hasn't been reading the employee handbook."

The soldier folded his arms. "If these gangs aren't stealing tech from here, then they have to be getting it from somewhere. Question is, where else would they be able to gain access to it, easy enough access to the point where they could obtain it without even stirring a fuss?"

Nat tilted her head and grew a smirk. "That's the million dollar question, Cap," she murmured, though her tone of voice had Steve straightening back up and leaning over her chair.

"You find something?"

"Maybe. So check this out." She clicked something on the keyboard, bringing up a page of listed material. "When a crew cleans up a certain area, they create an initial registry of what exactly their haul is, making a list of all the weapons, cores, etc. Well, check out the haul report from the 14th of this month." She clicked onto the file and brought up the registry. "This is the registry that was reported at the haul site...and this is what the facility reported actually came in to be stored."

Steve and Wanda gazed back and forth between the two projected registry lists, comparing each bulleted item before their faces grew perplexed. "I don't get it." Wanda murmured. "It looks the same. Everything matches up."

Natasha leaned back in the chair and gazed up at them. "Exactly...because this isn't the actual file."

Steve furrowed his brow. "What?"

"It's a dummy file, entangled with the code for the actual report to stand in place for the real file." She clicked off the registry and pulled up a new tab, this one displaying nothing but code lines. "This dummy file is what's actually listed as the true registry. it's been imbedded into the servers to take the place of any specially-marked files."

Steve leaned closer, pressing a palm down next to the keyboard and the other resting against the back of the chair. An uneasy feeling began to settle in his stomach, but he ignored it in favor of staring at the screen. "Can you find the real file?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Whoever designed this hack created it well enough so that is easily passes as legit. Of course, they also created it with the idea that nobody would be looking at it too closely. Unfortunately, I think they planned a contingency just in case. The marked files are automatically deleted within a two month period."

She glanced over at Steve and cracked a devious grin. "Luckily for us, that registry is from the 14th, only two weeks ago so it hasn't been scrubbed yet."

She clicked around the screen for a few seconds, scanning through the lines of code, readjusting some lines and imputing a few scrawls of text before pulling up another file. "Here's the real registry from the haul site, listing 142 individual pieces of alien tech. And here's what's been logged into storage."

Wanda ducked her head closer to the screen, reading directly off the line. "Only 113."

"Same thing last month. Each delivery, there's a shortage of actual material being discharged."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "And since those dummy files were in place..."

"Nobody suspected a thing."

He lifted his hands from the table and straightened back up. "So somewhere between cleaning up the tech and dumping it here, these gangs are getting ahold of it. But how-"

"Hold your horses, Steve," Natasha chimed in. "I'm getting there." She typed a few more things into the computer. Steve and Wanda shared a look but stepped closer as a new image appeared, a digital map of the surrounding roads and commonly driven routes with markers for dump sites and past hauls. "Look at the routes each of these trucks take, the trucks that don't have any discrepancies between their reported hauls and their actual loads." She pointed at the map and trailed along the illustrated road. "They each take the same route, every time. Now...look at the route this truck took on the 14th. Route 95. Every other driver took Route 64."

Steve face scrunched slightly as everything began to piece itself together. "And let me guess, on the dummy files it lists the driver as taking the scheduled Route 64."

Natasha didn't say anything, just pointed a finger up at the man, signaling his correct suspicions.

Wanda turned away from the computer and looked at them. "So...the transport trucks are getting attacked on alternate routes they shouldn't have been on in the first place?" She glanced back down at the screen. "That can't be a coincidence."

Widow shook her head. "It's not. These records were tampered with, something that would require higher access to the mainframe and the digital copies of these transcripts."

Steve narrowed his eyes and glared down at the screen. "Someone's letting this tech get stolen and is covering up the evidence by falsifying documents...someone on the inside."

Wanda turned back to Natasha, who had gone back to scrolling through the files. "Can you figure out who?"

She shook her head. "No. These servers just log the information, more the technical aspect of the facility. They don't include any names, personal info, anything. If we want to find out more..." she turned her chair around and looked to Steve. "...we aren't going to get it here."

Steve said nothing as he pressed a hand to his mouth, giving a small silent nod at her words before glancing back down to the screen. Wanda blew out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "I think our problems just got a lot more complicated."

Suddenly, Steve stiffened as he turned towards the door, the distant sound of metal whirring reaching his ears. "Shit. No kidding."

Nat lifted her gaze, eyes suddenly sharp. "What is it?"

He strained his hearing, just able to make out the sound of voices and shuffling feet as the elevator whirled. "Guards. A lot of them." He moved towards the door. "We're out of time. They're descending the elevator now."

Natasha's face curled into something akin to annoyance as she whirled back around to the computer and began to type away, a loading screen popping up as the information began to download onto their flash drive. Wanda turned to Steve. "We're on the sublevels. No stairs. How the hell are we going to get past them without them seeing us?"

Steve paused at her question, swinging his head back towards the door, opening it and allowing the outside hall light to fill the otherwise dark room. He kept his hand on the door frame as he swiveled his head down the hallway, calculating just how far it was to the elevator from where they were, how much space there was between the walls and whether there was anything of importance to avoid damaging should there be a fight.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at the man, slowly rising up from her seat as she took in his stance and the tense coiling of his muscles. "Steve...no. We said covert."

He didn't turn around. "You have any other ideas?"

She squinted her eyes. "They don't know it's us yet. All they know is somebody's infiltrated the building and taken out a few guards. We confront them, they'll know it was us and we'll have an even bigger mess on our hands when news gets out the Rogue Avengers broke into a government building and beat up the guards."

"I already broke into a government building and beat up the guards."

She scoffed and threw him a pointed look as he turned to face her. "That was different. The Raft was-"

"Necessary? Nat, are you honestly telling me this information isn't important? That we can afford to just...forget about it?"

"Don't put words in my mouth, Rogers."

He gritted his teeth and took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of them in a second. "A government-run operation dealing in secret underhanded affairs while simultaneously pulling the strings from the inside? What does that remind you of?"

She was silent for a moment, meeting Steve's heavy stare head on for a moment before glancing away. "We don't know that HYDRA's involved."

"We don't know they aren't."

She said nothing. Steve knew they didn't have time to argue. He could hear the voices getting louder as the elevator got closer to their floor. He whirled back around towards the door. "We'll talk about this later. Right now we need to go."

He stepped out of the room, Wanda glancing back at Natasha before following him out. The assassin watched for a moment before letting out a sigh, turning back to the computer screen.

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE

At least something's going according to plan. She thought to herself as she pulled the flash drive out of the port, snapped it back into her belt compartment and shut the computers down, closing out of all the files and leaving no trace as to their tampering, aside of course from the door still sitting on the floor. She cursed Steve's impulsiveness but stepped over it and walked out into the hallway, where said man was already on the coms with the others.

"Clint, Scott. We're about to be intercepted. You two get back to the jet. Tell Sam to start it up."

"Hold up!" Scott's voice cut through. "We're not just gonna leave you guys, are we?"

Steve didn't relent. "We'll meet you back there in ten minutes."

"But-"

"Get to the jet. That's an order." Steve said in his commanding tone of voice that he only ever used when the situation demanded no further discussion.

There was no reply heard through the coms. With that, the man gestured with his head for the girls to follow him as the three of them began to make their way back to the elevator.

It only took a few seconds for them to wind their way through the halls and find the elevator once more. The doors hadn't opened yet, though Steve could hear the growing whirring of the mechanical gears shifting, bringing the guards closer and closer with each second.

He said nothing, pointing instead to the stretch of wall on either side of the elevator. Nat and Wanda nodded and just as before with the other guards, they pressed their backs into the same wall the elevator stood against, waiting on either side of it; Steve on one, the girls on the other.

They waited in a few terse seconds of silence as the whirring dragged to a crawl before stopping, the voices on the other side of the door ceasing as the sound of guns cocking reached Steve's ears and made his body tense.

For a second right before the doors opened, he made eye contact with his teammates, both of them giving him determined looks as Natasha charged up her Spider Bytes and Wanda let her hands fill up with bright red energy. He knew he didn't have to tell them to use restraint, that the people they'd be fighting weren't the bad guys, but he still felt a gnawing pit of unease grow in his stomach. The last thing they needed was another controversy, and the wrongful killing of a security guard doing their job would bring just that.

He quickly pushed the thought and the anxiety aside, however, as the elevator pinged and the doors slid open. From their position against the wall, the Rogues went undetected for the brief moment they needed as all seven guards poured out of the small compartment, spreading out into the hall.

Instantly, Steve pushed off the wall, grabbing the gun of the nearest guard and ripping it out of his hands before slamming him down to the ground. The hall was suddenly swathed in noise as the other guards began to shout and aim their guns. Flashes of bright red light and crackling blue electricity alerted Steve to the fact that his teammates had jumped into action as well.

The guard underneath his hands began to squirm, Steve ramming his fist into his face and knocking him unconsciously instantly. His ears perked and he quickly leapt to the side as the sound of a gun going off bounced off the walls. He slid to his knees and jumped up, facing the two guards that now stood before him. They paused in their attacks, however, as they got a good look at his face.

"Captain America? W-what...what are-?"

They didn't get to finish as Steve surged forward, ramming his shoulder into one guard's gut and kicking out the leg of the second. The guard screamed in pain, only for Steve to grab his face and flip him over his shoulder, slamming him into the floor right as the first guard regained his balance and pulled out another pistol. Steve ducked under the shots and swept the man's legs out from underneath him. He reared a fist back, only to feel a heavy weight land atop his shoulders and drag him backwards.

He braced himself and slammed his body into the wall behind him, effectively squashing the guard atop as he grabbed the worker's arms and flipped him onto the floor, quickly knocking him out as well. He jumped back up to his feet, only to meet the muzzle of another pistol. The guard removed one hand from the gun to grab the radio on his shoulder. "We have a Code Black, in progress: hostiles are-" Before he could say anymore, the radio and gun were both encased in bright red light. The radio suddenly crumpled in on itself, leaving nothing but smoking wires and meshed metal.

The guard stared at it in shock, only for the gun to drop to the floor and the man to suddenly be catapulted backwards, slamming in the wall with a bang before limply sliding to the floor.

Steve took a small breath and glanced over at Wanda, nodding his thanks as she smiled. Natasha brushed a strand of hair out of her face as she stared down at the guard that was currently writhing at her feet from the electrical current of her Byte before falling unconscious like his other comrades. Steve glanced around the hall, which was now laden with bullet holes and groaning security guards. He whipped his head towards the elevator, the doors of which were still open.

"Come on. We need to move. They're gonna send more."

With that, the three quickly piled into the compartment and shut the doors, the floor jolting underneath their feet as it began the ascent. Steve reached down for his wrists, activating the shields as he turned to Wanda. "We're gonna be intercepted as soon as we reach the top floor. Be ready for heavy fire."

She nodded and let more trails of red light enter her hands. Natasha shared a less-than-pleased look with Steve, who drew his face into a frown, but said nothing more. He could feel the elevator slowing. Steve took a deep breath and brought his hands up, shields out. Natasha recharged her Bytes, the bright blue glow trailing throughout her entire suit, and pulled out the tonfa sticks she kept in her back belt compartment, wielding them in front of her body as she narrowed her eyes.

The elevator stopped. The doors slid open.

"Open FIRE!"

Instantly, a cacophony of bullets hailed down around them, the noise deafening in the small metal confines of the elevator. Wanda's red shied leapt to life, encasing the opening to the elevator as the bullets bounced off of it. She grunted at the force but braced her knees and pushed her hands out further, strengthening the barrier between them.

Natasha reached back into her belt and pulled out a few black pellets. "Ready?!" She called over to Wanda, whose squinted eyes dragged over towards the assassin, her head giving a small nod as another surge of red energy pulsed through the shield.

Widow nodded and reared her arm back, letting the pellets fly through the barrier. They bounced along the floor and rolled over towards the guards' feet. Whirls of smoke suddenly exploded out from the devices, swathing the room in thick gray plumes.

The rainstorm of bullets ceased as the guards attempted to see through the haze, Wanda dropping the shield right as Steve surged forward. He grabbed the closest guard and hurled him across the room, where he promptly collided with another.

Wanda lifted one man, ripping the gun from his hands before tossing him towards Steve, who kicked him back against the wall. Natasha leapt over the downed man's body and wrapped her legs around another, coiling her body tight around his before whipping her body towards the ground, effectively dragging him down as well. She kicked her leg out, knocking his gun away before twisting and slamming her other foot into the side of his head.

She saw another guard running up, her arm lifting as she shot a Byte at his chest. He seized up instantly as the current pulsed through his body, sending him convulsing to the ground. Steve leapt over the shaking man and slid to a stop next to Nat, lifting one of his shields in front of her right as two bullets collided with the metal.

The woman pushed his shield down and fired another Byte at the approaching man, knocking him down as well. Steve extended his hand, the woman latching onto it right as he swung her through the air, her legs kicking out against the two nearest guards, who both went down at the hit, clutching their heads before she was firing another two rounds of Bytes.

Steve lifted his shields as more bullets fired towards him, Wanda's magic encasing the guns before crushing them in the guard's hands. They stared at the clattering pieces in shock, only for Rogers to leapt forward and grab the closest man, ramming his knee into his gut before hurling him at the second, the two of them clattering to the ground in a jumble of limbs.

The soldier ducked to the ground as another round of bullets soared overhead, crashing through the glass windows behind him and shattering them into fragments.

"Steve!" He glanced over at Natasha, who threw over one of her tonfa sticks. He grabbed it out of the air as he rushed forward, knocking it against the guard's gun and whipping it across his face before ramming his fist into the man's cheek and sending him sprawling to the floor right as another gun went off, a bullet whizzing right past Steve's cheek.

He winced before raising his shield once more, the bullets bounding off the vibranium metal. He didn't lower his shield as he repositioned his grip on the stick, whipping it through the air where it collided with the guard's head, who promptly collapsed at the blow.

Wanda raised up another barrier as a barrage of bullets fired her way. She used her other hand to conjure up another mass of energy, whipping it towards the floor where it exploded on contact, sending three more guards soaring through the air. Natasha slid underneath the airborne guards and rammed her own tonfa stick into the crook of one man's knee. He doubled over and she quickly rammed her knee into his jaw before whipping her stick against the side of his head.

She ducked underneath another round of bullets right as Steve rammed his shield into the guard's face and whipped his legs out from under him, Wanda catching the falling guard before sending him whizzing towards the back wall. The girl lifted her hands again, only for a stray bullet to hit her in the upper arm. She gasped in pain and faltered in her step, kneeling down on the floor for a brief second.

The guards, however, quickly noted her position and took aim. Steve rushed over and wrapped an arm around the girl, bringing his shields up right as they opened fire, the bullets clattering to the floor as they made contact with his shields. His eyes lifted as he felt a growing vibration running through the floor, heart dropping as he caught sight of a fresh wave of guards approaching.

Wanda narrowed her eyes and lifted her good arm, creating another shield, bigger this time. This one stretched from floor to ceiling, separating the three Rogues from the rest of security, which had quickly opened fire on the barrier as soon as it had appeared.

Natasha rushed over. "They're blocking the stairwell. How are we supposed to get to the roof?"

Steve stared out at the guards currently shooting. He knew in any other circumstance, such a situation wouldn't be a problem. They could easily overpower the guards, despite their numbers. But with the added handicap of fighting innocent people while holding back their real strength, the longer this fight went on, the higher the chance of some guard losing their life.

They had to end this quickly and get out of here.

The soldier opened his mouth, only to pause as he caught sight of a guard suddenly collapsing to the floor. The three Rogues blinked as another guard suddenly went down, as if punched by an invisible force. And another. And another. The guards themselves seemed to quickly catch wind that something was happening, for they began to fire at random ground.

An arrow whizzed down from the rafters, lodging into the floor tiles. The guards lifted their heads in the direction the arrow came, only for a bright flash of light to explode out from the projectile, the guards clutching their heads as their ears rang.

Scott suddenly materialized from seemingly out of nowhere, ramming his fist into the nearest guard as Clint jumped down from the ceiling onto the shoulders of another guard, the worker crumpling under the man's weight.

Wanda quickly dropped the shield and fired two blasts of energy at the closest guards, knocking them off their feet as Steve and Natasha helped Clint and Scott finished off the last few.

Scott retracted his helmet, face all grins. "Hey guys!"

Steve blew out a sigh as he narrowed his eyes. "Scott..."

The man didn't seem fazed by the disapproving look in the soldier's eyes as he simply shrugged his shoulders and threw him his own cheeky look. "Sorry. Guess I'm not the best at following orders yet."

"Yeah, you can say that again." Clint muttered as he scanned his eyes over the guards, making sure they were all taken care of.

Steve thought of reprimanding their newest recruit for a moment before shaking his head and letting the barest smile onto his face, clapping Scott on the back instead. He perked up, however at the sound of approaching footfalls. "Come on. There's more coming."

With that, he ran over to the stairwell, the rest of his teammates following. He pushed the door open and sprinted up the metal stairs as the loud shouts of approaching guards began to grow. "Sam! You better have that jet in the air!" He shouted into the coms as they made the roof, the soldier holding the door open as the rest of his teammates poured through before slamming it shut. The cold air seemed to slap his face as the wind howled around them, threatening to knock them off the roof.

"Relax, Cap. Your cab's waitin'."

Before the man could respond, the loud sound of familiar jet propulsors reached his ears as the ship came into view, cresting the lip of building as the back hatch slowly opened up, revealing Sam standing at the mouth of the ship, arms folded.

"Somebody call for a taxi?!"

The Rogues quickly rushed over, Natasha extending her hand to Scott, who quickly shrunk down and slid into her open palm. The woman glanced down at the gap between the edge of the building and the ship ramp before taking a few steps back and leaping forward, feet slamming down onto the sleek metal as she slid inside.

Clint approached next, holding a hand back for Wanda, who was being pushed forward by Steve. The archer looped a hand around the girl's waist before they, too, were leaping onto the ship. Steve narrowed his eyes and took a few steps back himself. He could hear the shouting of the guards. They were in the stairwell now. He began to run towards the ship. The guards beached the door.

He leapt into the air right as the guns began to fire, his feet slamming onto the metal hatch before he was leaping inside. The hatch quickly sealed up, the bullets bouncing against the ship's side before the reflector panels began to rotate. Within seconds, the jet was gone, leaving nothing but the night sky for the guards to fire blindly into.

 

---

 

Thursday - April 28, 2016

Brooklyn Bridge - East River

12:07 a.m .

It felt like it took hours, but in reality, it was only a minute before Tony was hovering over the bridge, trying to locate a small red and blue smudge atop the bridge beams. He resisted the urge to scan the waters below for the kid's form, gritting his teeth as he had FRIDAY scan for the kid atop the actual bridge.

Tony would never admit the gut-wrenching feeling of relief when FRIDAY alerted him to the kid's presence atop one of the beams. Instead, he flew down, careful to keep his descent smooth as to not startle the kid. The relief he'd felt, however, quickly disappeared as he took in the sight of the kid before him.

Peter currently sat a bit too close to the edge for Tony's comfort, legs hanging off the side as he held something in his lap. His skin was nearly translucent at this point, the drops of rain sliding down his porcelain cheeks like that of a china doll. The pelting rain had plastered his hair down to his forehead, the dark brown locks a stark contrast to the sickening shade of his skin. His mask lay beside him, an afterthought.

He didn't look up, though the billionaire was sure his hearing would have picked up the sound of his repulsors. Instead he continued to stare down at something in his lap. Tony couldn't see what it was.

"Kid?"

The boy didn't respond. He didn't even move, didn't even lift his head. He just kept staring at his hands, at what was in his hands. Tony hovered closer, boots landing with a soft thud on the metal tower. Another roll of thunder shook the air, the sky flashing for a brief moment before falling dark once more. He tried again. "Kid, what are you doing out here?"

Again, silence.

Tony blew out a tired sigh and opened his mouth to speak again, only to falter and remain silent as his mind drifted back over to when they had last seen each other, when they'd last spoken. The disaster that was Monday made a niggling seed of doubt sprout up in his mind. What that what this was about? Did Peter want him to bring it up? Did he want him to ignore it? Did he want to talk about it at all? Should Tony ignore it? Could Tony ignore it and still call himself a responsible adult?

That last thought almost made him snort aloud. Yeah, right. Like I was ever a responsible adult even before all this.

He turned his gaze back to Peter, who had still yet to acknowledge his presence. Tony felt the dragging weight of exhaustion eating away at his patience. What the hell was this kid playing at here?

"Peter, you better answer me right now. What do you think you're doing up h-"

"Have you ever heard of SpongeBob?"

The billionaire literally had to do a double take, both at the kid's sudden response and at what he'd actually said. He hesitated for a moment, glancing around bewilderedly before cautiously responding. "Uh...can't say that I have? What-"

"It's a cartoon. I think they still play it." The boy cracked a hint of a smile, didn't lift his head. "I used to watch it when I was little...with my mom. She liked it. Thought it was cute, I guess."

Something in the kid's voice made a shiver go up Tony's spine, a certain hollowness to the boy's usually bright tone. He didn't like it. "Kid...maybe we should talk about this back at the tower." He could see the teen's vitals through the headset of the suit, could see his body temperature. 96 degrees and dropping. Peter didn't seem too concerned by the cold as he continued, playing with whatever was in his hands. "It's about sea creatures, a sponge."

He rolled something between his fingers. "He's happy a lot. Singing songs, playing games, smiling. He smiled a lot. That much I remember. And...and I remember that...no matter what, how crazy the problem was or whatever insane situation he was in...he was always...smiling. Always happy."

The boy clenched his fists tightly. "I can't stand that show."

Tony took a step forward, the sound of his boot hitting metal echoing around them. "Peter...come on, kid. You're shivering. Let's go. I'll take you back to the tower, we'll dry off...just like that one time. You remember that?"

"...I remember."

"Then come on. It'll be fun." Tony reached a hand out towards the boy. Peter's eyes suddenly shot over towards him as he stepped closer and his body instantly curled in on itself as he faced him, scooting back ever so slightly. The billionaire was finally able to get a good view of the teen's face. The scars and scratches he'd seen on Monday had faded, leaving nothing but crystal skin that seemed to freeze the drops of water that dripped down his cheeks. But his eyes...his eyes were glossy and shone like the beads of a doll, filled with apprehension and fear.

Tony instantly stopped his approach at seeing the look on the kid's face, pulling back his hand and retreating a few steps. For a moment, the two just stared at each other, neither making another move. He could hear the sharp plinking noises of the rain hitting against his suit, the sky flashing overhead. Tony blew out a rough sigh as he realized what he needed to do.

"Jesus, can't believe..." he mumbled under his breath as the suit canopy began to open and he stepped out onto the bridge tower in the same three-piece suit he'd been wearing all day. Instantly, the shocking cold of the rain and wind seemed to pierce his skin as he lifted a hand to try and block the water from getting into his eyes. He could feel his clothes beginning to stick uncomfortably to his skin as the rain pounded against him, slicking his hair back against his forehead.

Peter stared at him with wide eyes as the man adjusted to being so high up in the middle of a storm, bracing himself against the winds and gaining enough balance to properly stand. His wide doe eyes blinked in shock as the man clicked a tongue and ran a hand down his now-soaked suit, the billionaire pointing a finger at him. "I'm sending you my dry cleaning bill, you know."

"...you're getting wet..."

Tony narrowed his eyes, not out of anger but to try and blink away the water droplets now spilling down around his cheeks. "Yeah, cause apparently you'd rather have this little conversation up on top of a metal tower in the middle of a goddamn thunderstorm."

Peter didn't say anything at that, just blinked once more and turned his head away, glancing back down at the mystery object in his hands. Now that he was closer, Tony could make out the strung-together beads of a necklace, homemade if the quality was anything to go by. He hesitated for a moment before wiping his face and readjusting the raised hand that was currently failing at blocking the rain from reaching his eyes. "You gonna tell me what that is or would you rather combine this little charade with a round of 20 questions?"

The teen stole a hesitant glance in his direction, chewing the bottom of his lip before lowering his head again and averting his eyes, seeming to scoot back by another inch. Tony swallowed down another annoyed sigh, realizing he'd have to play this delicately, or at least, as delicately as he could running on less than 3 hours of sleep in a 48 hour period while having just dealt with political cronies for the last couple hours, shredding what last lines of patience he'd stored away.

Nevertheless, he'd have to find some...for Peter's sake. The last thing they needed was another blowup like Monday. As his mind drifted over said day, the billionaire winced inwardly as he realized he'd at least have to try to address the elephant in the room. So with that, he cleared his throat and tried to muster up the calmest tone of voice possible, which was no easy task considering he'd practically ran it raw screaming at idiots all day.

"Look...about Monday, I...I'm sorry, alright? I overstepped. You were obviously uncomfortable and I kept pushing and it was just...I get you might not want to, you know-"

"It was for her."

Tony quickly slammed his mouth shut at hearing the boy speak. His voice was shaky...quiet, but he continued. "I made it for her...for her 30th." Peter cracked another small smile. "Four-year-old me thought it was a nice number, f-figured I would make something just as nice to...to celebrate it."

The billionaire felt a sinking feeling begin to weigh heavily in his gut as he picked up on the kid's distinct tone of voice. He wavered slightly before speaking, fearful as to what the kid's reply would be, though he already had a good guess. "Is...is it today? Her birthday?"

Peter turned his head to stare at him. He didn't say anything for a moment before a drop of water slid too close to his eye and he was blinking it away, chuckling softly. It wasn't very funny. "Heh...no. Quite the opposite, actually..."

It took him a second, but as soon as he knew what the teen meant, Tony was shutting his eyes and angling his head away as he sucked in a long breath, like he'd just been burned. A familiar tug of grief crawled down his spine, though he doubted it was anything compared to what the kid before him had to be feeling. Whenever the anniversary of his parent's death came up, he'd usually cope through it with a few bottles of whatever he had laying around so he could successfully black out the day completely in a nice calming booze-filled coma. Of course, the teen before him didn't have such an option readily available.

Nevertheless, this was not the time nor the place to have any sort of heart-to-heart about familial losses. Hell, that would be daunting even up in his cushy tower with mountains of pillows and hot chocolate. Throw in a couple mile-an-hour winds and some lighting and he had the makings of a real shitshow. He ran a hand through his hair, which was now completely drenched. "Listen...I'm sorry, kid. Really I am. But, please just...just come with me. We'll get out of this and get somewhere warm and...and we'll talk. We'll talk about whatever you want. I don't know how great I'll be at it, but at least it'll be something and we'll be out of this rain. You don't look so hot and it's just getting colder and-"

"I should have thrown it away."

Once again, he was caught off guard by the kid's sudden comment. The man glanced behind him at the light of his tower in the distance, grimacing again as he debated cutting Peter off and just dragging him back to the tower himself, but he quickly filed it away as a horrible idea given how much of a flight risk the teen seemed to be at the moment. Plus, this was the most they'd spoken in over three days. He didn't want to chance ruining it.

"What?"

Peter spared him another glance. He didn't know what propelled him to continue speaking, especially about this. Maybe it was the fact that the man was getting drenched in the freezing rain just to talk to him. Maybe the prospect of talking about this was just too good to pass up. He'd been holding it in for ten years after all.

"It's ridiculous to still hold onto such debilitating things like this."

Fine. She wanted him to let it go? Then he'd let it go.

"I kept it in a shoebox in my closet, to...keep it hidden, s-so she wouldn't find it before it was time to give it t-to her. And...a few months after...I-I found it again." He held it up just a bit, turning it over in his hands. "There was no point in keeping it cause, well..." He glanced over at Tony. "Can you really call it a keepsake if the person you're trying to remember never even wore it, n-never even saw it?"

He stared back down at the beads, hand shaking slightly. "She...she didn't even know it existed." He paused for a moment, taking a small breath that seemed to burn his lungs. God, it was so freaking cold. "By all means, I should have trashed it," he mused with a small grin on his face. It made Tony uneasy.

"But...I didn't. I...I couldn't. Cause...c-cause four-year-old me, ever the genius, thought that...t-that..." His words were shaking now. Tony realized his whole body was shaking. He wanted to take another step forward, but realized it would probably scare the teen. He fought to keep his legs still as Peter tried to continue. "...that I'd keep it so...s-so I could..I-I could..." He swallowed thickly as his eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "so I could give it to her when she came back," he choked on a sob which quickly turned into a breathy laugh as a few stray tears slipped down his cheeks, mingling with the raindrops.

Tony didn't move. He didn't know what to say. What could you say to that?

Peter stared down at the beads, silent for a moment as he traced over them with his fingers. Lightning flashed overhead, making the necklace glow slightly as the glass reflected the brilliant burst. The teen's eyes darkened slightly, causing Tony's stomach to turn as he watched the boy's body stiffen in visible anger. He barked out another laugh as more tears leaked through. "Well guess what? I've been waiting for ten fucking years and she still isn't here!"

With that, the teen leapt up to his feet faster than Tony could blink and hurled the necklace down as hard as he could into the darkness below with an animalistic snarl. The billionaire took a startled step forward, wondering for a brief horrifying moment if he was close enough to grab the boy in case he tried to make a move towards the edge.

"Peter-!"

However, instead of making anymore sudden movements, Peter just stood there. His shoulders bounced as he let out a choked cry before ramming the palms of his hands against his eyes and falling to his knees on the metal tower, the puddles on the surface splashing down around him as he fell. Tony could do nothing but listen to the heartbreaking sobs of the boy before him, suddenly overcome with the urge to embrace the shivering kid.

But realizing such a thing wouldn't help the teen who obviously had a deep aversion to physical contact, the billionaire did the next best thing and knelt down on the ground beside him, not saying anything as Peter hiccupped and dragged in a shaky breath, pulling his arms down to wrap around his body.

Peter didn't know what to do anymore. All of the stress and trauma and shit of the past two weeks...fuck it, of the past ten years were suddenly creeping up around him, threatening to choke the literal life out of him. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, so he just decided to let it all out.

"I just...I-I miss my mom," he finally whispered, his heart clenching so tightly he fought to breathe. "I miss her. And...I don't even remember her." He tightened his grip on his arms, so much so he was certain it would bruise. "Her face, her voice, it's all...it's all getting fuzzy, it's fading away and I can't stop it. I...I can't I can't control my own memories, can't stop them from disappearing. She's...she's disappearing. I just..."

He lifted his eyes to stare at the billionaire kneeling a few feet away. "I miss my mom, Mr. Stark." More tears fell down his face. "I miss her so much."

"You're a good boy, aren't you, Peter?"

He ducked his head away as Ms. O'Hara's words echoed around his ears, ready to listen to the billionaire rip into him just as she had, telling him that it was stupid to still grieve over someone that had died so long ago, ready for him to say how ridiculous he was being.

"I know."

The teen blinked and turned towards Mr. Stark, who had shut his eyes and was running a hand down his face, wiping away the water droplets that had collected. The billionaire turned to look him in the eyes, seeming to convey an overwhelming sense of understanding and sympathy that made Peter's teeth clatter. "Peter, believe me, I know how horrible you feel right now," the man sighed. "How awful it is to start forgetting the people you loved. I know it's hard and it sucks."

He paused for a moment before lifting his hands in the air and dropping them back down to splash against the puddles pooling around his knees. "I'm not gonna lie, kid. It sucks. It sucks and it's gonna keep sucking for a while. And I know I'm not really the best at promoting healthy ways of coping but...it gets better."

The man smiled at him, a gentle smile that made Peter's fingers curl and his heartrate speed up. "I know that sounds like a passive little platitude that you could find on the back of a 2-cent therapy pamphlet, but it does. It takes time...like, like a lot of time. But eventually you find a way to cope, hopefully a better way than me, heh. I know I could help you s-"

"Stop."

Tony paused, blinking at the suddenness and the hostility seeming to linger on that single word.

"Wh...stop what?"

Peter clenched his eyes shut and curled his fingers into tight fists. "Stop doing that. Stop being...like that! Stop being so nice!" He shouted with an anger Tony hadn't seen in him in a long time, not since the first month they'd met and he'd confronted him about Richard.

"I don't-I...what-"

"I don't understand!" the kid screamed, grabbing at his head. "I don't understand you! I can't...God." His eyes burst open, wide and unfocused as his breathing picked up tenfold, chest heaving in and out like each breath was a struggle. Tony stared at him in shock as the teen clutched at his chest, fisting the material of the suit with such a tight grip, Tony wasn't too such the multi-billion dollar material wouldn't shred like wet toilet paper. "I...I can't take this anymore...I can't!"

The boy began to sway from his kneeling position, so much so that the billionaire instinctively reached out, fingers just grazing his shoulder. "Peter, just wait-"

"NO!" he shouted, literally jumping away from him as he began to scoot backwards with his hands, terrified eyes staring at Tony as if he were trying to kill him. "Please! Please don't, please just...please don't do this." He raised a shaking hand towards the man. "D-don't do this to me again. P-Please...please don't. God...I can't do this." He could barely choke out the words at his point. "I'm just...I-I'm so...scared."

Tony got down onto his knees again, hoping the position would make him seem like less of a threat, but the boy's eyes continued to trail him like he was about to pounce. "I know. I know you must be scared, kid. But...but I can help you!"

Peter wildly shook his head, water droplets flinging everywhere. "No...n-no you don't understand!"

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't! I'm...I'm scared of YOU!"

Tony felt the air literally leave his lungs at the teen's words, like he'd just been punched in the gut. He blinked for a few moments, trying and failing to come up with some sort of response. But all he could stutter out was, "You...what?"

Peter opened his mouth again, only to stop and quickly snap it shut. He had to leave. This was all spiraling out of control...AGAIN! He had to get out of there before he made things even worse. "No...I...I can't do this." He jumped up to his feet. Tony did as well, eyes widening as he realized the kid was about to leave.

"Peter-"

"I can't, Mr. Stark. I won't do this again. I can't." He grabbed his mask faster than the billionaire could stop him, aiming to place it back over his head. "Please...p-please, just...just stay away and I'll-"

Tony suddenly felt all the fear and anger that had been bottling up for the past two months spill over, quickly engulfing him as he watched the teen prepare to take off and leave him in the dark...AGAIN!

"Peter, goddamn it!" He screamed, catching the kid off guard as he stepped forward. "Don't you dare leave again! You wouldn't tell me anything before well you're not gonna do it again! You owe me now! I'm standing out here in the middle of the night getting soaked for you! I'm not here for shits and giggles, alright? I'm here to help you!" The man took a breath, seeming to snap himself out of the sudden onset of anger as he noticed the teen's frightened face. He took another step forward, to which Peter took two back. Tony quickly stopped, realizing there was a very high chance that he could scare the kid away. He sucked in another breath and held out a steadying hand. "Please...please stay. Stay and talk to me. Please..."

He didn't know what he was gonna do if the boy refused. Peter didn't seem to know either, for he simply stood there staring for a good few moments, allowing the sound of the pounding rain and rolling thunder to take center stage instead. His brain screamed at him to run, to get as far away from the man as possible. But his legs wouldn't move. He couldn't take his eyes off of Mr. Stark's pleading look. He lowered the mask and stared at it in his hands, the rain drops sliding down the smooth lenses. He ran a thumb over it, wiping it clean for a brief second before more drops replaced the old.

Peter shut his eyes and gripped the mask tightly, bringing it up to his chest and hugging it close. Tony watched him, silent. He didn't know what to do. The kid hadn't run off yet so he at least considered that a small victory.

After another few silent seconds, Peter spoke.

"I don't...understand you."

Tony remained quiet. He had to let the kid speak.

He had to know why Peter was the way he was.

The boy glared down at the mask. "Nothing you do makes sense!" he growled. "I know how the world is supposed to work, alright? I know down to the letter what I have to do to get people to look away, to ignore me and keep going on about their day as if I don't even exist." The kid gripped the mask tighter, wringing it in his hands.

"I keep my head down, the crowds ignore me. I keep my mouth shut, my classmates pass me by. I do my work, the teachers leave me alone. I have worked for years to protect myself, to keep people's prying eyes at bay, their questions to a minimum. And it's worked!"

Peter paused to take a small breath. The small bout of color that had worked its way into his cheeks began to fade as the kid lowered his head. "I lie," he murmured in a soft and shame-filled tone. "I...I lie. I tell stories, make up excuses, pull things straight out of the thin air! They're pretty and they're clean and they don't make people ask questions." His face grew angry. "They make people happy and comfortable enough to smile and look the other way, to think that it just doesn't concern them and move on with their lives."

He lifted his eyes to stare at Tony, gaze questioning and uncertain. "So...so why don't you? I've been doing this for ten years. It's worked on almost everyone else in my life so...so why won't it work on you?"

The man inched closer. "Cause I don't want it to work, kid. I want you to tell me the truth, Peter...even if it's...even if it's hard to swallow," he murmured softly.

Peter hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "You won't like it."

"Probably. But I'd want you to tell me anyway." Another step closer. Peter didn't move away this time. "I don't want you to have to lie anymore. Not to me. I...I want you to-"

"What? Trust you?" Peter asked with venom in his tone, eyes hard and pained. "Tony Stark? The man they say is only ever out for himself? Only in it for the money? Why would I ever trust you?!"

Tony stared at him for a moment, hoping the hurt that flared at the kid's words didn't show on his face. Instead, he just stared at him, raindrops sliding down his forehead, down around his chin. "Is that what you think? About me?" he asked softly.

Peter stared at him, the look on his face wavering before falling altogether, the teen wrapping his arms around himself once more as he turned away with a tired sigh. "No...but it never matters what I think." The boy stared out at the river of cars speeding down below them, bright colors blurring into one another as they flew down the strip. He shut his eyes and shook his head. "God, why...why are you even here?"

The billionaire faltered slightly at the pointed look the kid threw his way, not having expected the sharp and calculating look in his eyes. "I...I was worried about you?" he answered honestly.

But despite the integrity of his words, Peter's suspicious look remained. If anything, it deepened as he frowned and furrowed his brow. "Were you? Worried about me? Or did you just need another distraction?"

Tony's stomach churned. "What?"

"That's what you said, right? That's what this is? Is that all I'm here for? That's my 'use?'" The kid scoffed and let a humorless smile fall onto his face. "Well how long until you get tired of this? I mean, come on!" He gestured with his arms for the man to look around. "You're standing on top of the Brooklyn Bridge during a thunderstorm in the middle of the night! I'd say my 'usefulness' has run its course." He stopped, glaring down at the ground for a moment before the intensity died down, leaving nothing but anguish. "Like you said, the second you don't need me anymore...I'm out."

The man's heart sunk as he heard the words, words he'd uttered not even an hour ago. This was bad. "I-"

"There's nothing special about me, anyway."

Tony quickly rushed forward, heart threatening to hammer right out of his chest. How was this all going so wrong so fast?! "Oh, god. I...Peter, kid...listen to me, I-"

"I always listen to you, Mr. Stark," the kid murmured, glancing up at him with his big brown eyes that made Tony want to curl away from the sincerity behind them. "That's the problem."

Peter didn't say anything else as he crouched down and sat on the floor once more, body seeming too tired to keep standing. Tony could only watch with hopelessness creeping ever present towards his throat, not sure what he could do at this point.

God, it was cold. He could feel it slicing against his skin, slipping in underneath his shirt and making him bite the inside of his cheek to stop his teeth from chattering.

He could try to deny it, say the kid had misheard or that it as all just some big misunderstanding, but he knew Peter would never believe that. He was too smart to be deceived by any sort of lie he could conceive. So with that, Tony decided to take on a new fuck it mentality as he walked over to the boy and sat down right next to him, his legs hanging off the side of the tower. Might as well take his chances with the truth.

"I didn't mean those things I said," he murmured softly, not even bothering to turn his head towards the kid as he spoke. He didn't want to see the disbelief on Peter's face. "They were just to get Ross off my back. You know him? Secretary Ross? Yeah, well he's my boss and an asshole and I didn't want him knowing any more about you than he already did." He glanced down at his hands, watching his fingers flex as he curled them. "I was trying to protect you."

Peter stared out over the water, the wind blowing the wet strands of his hair against his forehead. "I believe you," he breathed softly. "But it doesn't make it any less true."

Tony turned at that. "Kid-"

"It's okay." Peter lifted a placating hand. "It's...it's alright. I'm not angry." He turned to Tony with a small genuine smile, though it didn't make the man feel any better. "How can I be? How can I be angry when you're only doing what's best for you? And you should! I...I understand."

"It's not like that, kid..."

Peter sighed. "Mr. Stark, look around you. Look at where you are right now! Can you honestly say any of this is good for you? That this is something you want to be doing? That if given the choice, you wouldn't rather be back at home with no memory of any of this, warm and dry and...away from...this big mess." Peter turned away, staring down at the mask in his hands once more, eyes filling with an unreadable expression Tony couldn't place. "I...I'm doing this to you," the kid murmured in a pained voice. "I'm making things harder for you."

Tony shook his head. "N-no you aren't."

"Come ON!" Peter snapped, glaring over at him. "You're saying you haven't been stressed out even more lately ever since we met? I've felt it too!" He turned his gaze to the sky, shaking his head with a scoff. "These past two months have been some of the worst of my entire life!"

Tony winced at that, gut flipping in guilt as he turned his head away and shut his eyes. The doubts he'd been feeling all week, all month began to crawl up his throat.

"But...but they've also been some of the best."

The billionaire blinked and faced him again. Peter smiled down at his hands before letting out a sigh. "Maybe that's why I thought this could work."

The man furrowed his brow, inching closer. "It could. It could work, Peter."

The teen only shook his head. "I can't, Mr. Stark. This...all of this...it's just one big risk. You're a risk. You've changed everything! All of it, you've changed me, changed my life, changed how I see things and it's all too much! It's all so new and I can't process it!" he shouted grabbing at his hair as his breathing picked up once more and his heart pounded in his ears. Tony reached a hand out to place on the kid's shoulder before thinking better of it and retracting it back.

"You're...you're a wild card. I have no idea what to expect from you! How do I know you aren't planning to go to the police right this second? I can't stop you! Not if you really wanted to!"

Tony felt his eyes narrowing. "What's so wrong with that? The police could help you."

The scoff that fell from Peter's lips was so forceful that the man reared back slightly. The kid smirked a humorless smile. "...help me with what?"

"I'm being serious, Peter."

"So am I," the teen countered with a sharp look. "Help me with what? With my dad, Richard Parker? The city's golden boy, the guy who had the Mayor and the Chief of Police over for dinner three weeks ago? The guy who's in every paper, article, news story getting remark after remark of nothing but praise and adoration?!" The kid shook his head and let his hands fall limply into his lap. "Nobody would believe me."

Tony stared at him before pushing through his hesitations and grabbing onto the kid's shoulder. Peter winced, but didn't pull away and didn't turn to face him. "I would. If you told me." Tony murmured soberly, hoping his tone of voice would convey his seriousness, would help convince the kid. Peter's next words surprised him however as the boy reached up and gently pushed the man's hand off of his shoulder with a small smile.

"I know. That's why I can't. Cause I know you would. Which would mean you'd do everything in your power to fight it. And...and I can't let you do that." The smile disappeared just as quickly as it had come, suddenly replaced with regret as Peter seemed to quickly realize where they were...who he was with. The short reprise of calm washed away as the teen stood back up to his feet, Tony quickly following.

"Oh, this is all so messed up..." the teen moaned, pressing his hands into his eyes once more. "All of this! YOU are messing everything up!" he shouted, suddenly angry once again. His emotions were all over the place! "My dad tells me one thing. You tell me another. I try to keep my mouth shut but you somehow get me to spew out everything I'm thinking as soon as I think it! I distance myself and you drag me right back and make me feel...something and get me to let my guard down!" His hands flew down, trembling fists standing at his sides as he burned daggers into Tony, face flushing red. "Why are you doing this?! Why do you care about me so much? God, why can't you just GIVE UP?!"

Tony gritted his teeth and rushed forward, forcefully grabbing the kid by the shoulders. "You don't want that! I know you don't!"

Peter shook his head, tears forming in his eyes once more, which only made Tony feel worse. He didn't let go however. He just kept holding on tight to the boy, afraid that if he let go, the teen would crumble right then and there, washing away with the rain.

"I...I need you to," Peter cried softly. "It's...it's the only...it's the only way I know how to function. I need you to not care...I've never had anything else. I don't know how to deal with anything else. I..." he raised his hands and grabbed onto Tony's wrists, staring the man in the eyes as the tears slipped down his face. "I'm scared, Mr. Stark. This...this is all so new. It's too much."

He let go of the man and slipped out of his grasp, sidestepping him and coming up behind him. Tony whirled around, keeping his eyes locked on the teen as he began to pace around the roof of the bridge tower. "I don't know what I'm feeling anymore. I don't know what's gonna happen whenever I see you and that...terrifies me. With you, there are so many variables that I can't account for that I can't even begin to fathom what the solution might be! There is no equation. There's no way to solve it."

Peter's shaking hands went up to his face again. "I don't know what do to anymore. This...this is all such a bad idea. You and me, we're such a bad idea!"

Tony tried to approach the kid again, but Peter quickly stepped back. "It doesn't have to be. We can work through this together, kid!"

The boy stared at him for a moment, seeming to drink in his words before he was glancing back up at the sky, blinking away the raindrops that fell onto his face. "I don't understand." His voice was soft, his tone almost neutral. "Why? Why are you doing this, Mr. Stark? What do you have to gain in all of this other than more problems that you don't need." The teen folded his arms together. "You were wrong before...all those months back. Spiderman might be your responsibility...but Peter Parker sure isn't."

He stared down at his mask, fisting it tightly. "We aren't the same. Me and Spider-Man. You deserve Spider-Man. He's brave and strong and knows how to stand up for what's right." His eyes locked onto the lenses of the mask, so bright and shiny that he could see his reflection staring back up at him, disappointing, underwhelming...unimportant.

"Peter Parker...is nothing."

Tony narrowed his eyes in anger. "That's not true. Peter, you know that's not true!"

"They WHY?!" He screamed. "Why are you doing this? W-what am I to you? An intern? A-a...superhero coworker? Your rival's kid? An entertainer to distract you for a couple hours out of the day? What?! What...what am I to you?" he whispered, voice trailing off as he dropped his hands and stared at the man, any and all energy he'd had now draining away from him, pooling around his feet like the puddles of water. A roll of thunder echoed overhead, seeming to make the very bridge vibrate. Neither of them reacted to it, they just kept staring, kept trying to make their brains work and their mouths move, to say something...anything that could fix all of this, that could put together what was so obviously broken.

Finally, Tony spoke.

"I...I don't know..."

. . .

. . .

"Neither do I."

The silence that followed wrapped around them both in a suffocating blanket, restricting their limbs and cutting off their air. The cold seemed to seep through their skin and freeze their blood solid, leaving them petrified as stone. Peter breathed out, slowly...calculating, as if he were measuring how long each exhale was, timing the seconds.

He spoke, the words empty and heavy. "I...I don't know if I can do this anymore. I...I'm just...so tired. Of the lies, the games...all of it."

The kid took a step backwards, glancing down at his mask. Tony seemed to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in as he watched the teen prepare to leave. He couldn't leave. Not now, not...not after all of this. He couldn't have failed, not so badly! "Peter...please, please just..." He didn't even know what he was pleading for at this point. He just needed this kid to stay. He needed it. It was Monday all over again, he could see the park materializing around him, could see the kid drifting further and further away, too far to reach, too far to help.

Peter watched him, his tone never changing, his eyes hollow. "I have to think. I...I have to go."

"Kid-"

He held their stare for a second longer before slipping the mask over his face. "Don't follow me."

And with that, he leapt off the side of the bridge tower. Tony quickly rushed over to the edge to watch the kid fire a web and swing off into the night, his body highlighted by a flash of light overhead before disappearing into the darkness.

The man stood there silently, staring out into the rain. He blinked and glanced down at his hands, feeling the water slide down his fingers and pool into his palms. He noted ever cut, every scar, every hint of callouses from years of working, of tinkering in his lab in the quiet, empty metal walls of his workshops.

He'd gotten what he'd wanted. They'd both gotten what they'd wanted. They'd seen each other, spoken to each other, spoken to the only other person who could maybe understand.

And yet, as the thunder rolled on and the lightning streaked by and the rain poured down, as Tony Stark stood atop the Brooklyn Bridge and Peter Parker swung through the city buildings back home, neither of them had ever felt so completely and utterly...alone.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore..."

. . .

. . .

. . .

"Me neither."