"Mr Stark!" Peter yells, hands cupped around his mouth.
You run through the opening in the wall. "Wait no... y/n wait!" Peter calls after you.
As you enter the building Peter's voice seems distant, even though it was only meters away. The room was filled with rows and rows of metal shelves, the contents, once previously organized had be scattered everywhere. Things were missing, containers were lying open on shelves, high tech guns, gadgets and pieces of Iron Man armor littered the floor. You instinctively pick up the nearest gun, unsure what it does or what or who you would use it on. You were still rusty when it came to your powers. Peter flicks on two bracelets containing his web-shooters, a new prototype he had been working on with Tony.
"What happened?" You ask, more as a way to break the silence that had fallen around you than to get an answer.
"I don't know, but whatever it was it doesn't look good."
"Do you think Loki escaped?" You stumble out the words not bearing to think what Loki... your father... could possibly be doing with his new found freedom.
"Possibly" Peter said.
You continue to walk further into the Avengers base, neither of you sure if you were searching for survivors, or for answers to what had happened.
You made your way down to the basement where Loki was being held. Rounding the corner you find the glass cage. Smashed, covered in blood, and empty, save for a golden horn helmet.
You bend down, picking up the helmet. It felt cold in your grip, and smooth, almost familiar. You shudder at the thought that this was the helmet he had worn when he had terrorized the streets of New York, this is what he had worn when he had killed hundreds. And he had left it. For you. You weren't sure why but you kept the helmet in your grip, it's ability to phrase in and out of existence a familiar feeling. It took only a few minute to work out how to make it completely invisible, for you to feel like you were no longer holding it. But you still felt it's presence. Peter looked at you questioningly, wondering why you hadn't put the helmet down straight way, or possibly why you had felt the need to pick it up in the first place. But you liked the feeling of it, you didn't know why. You knew you should be horrified. How could something worn when bringing so much terror to the world be a comfort to you? But it was. It felt like a piece of you, like something you had been missing all your life that you never knew was missing in the first place until now.
You follow Peter back out the way you came, determining there was no one here, no way of determining what really happened. It was Loki, probably, most likely. He had broken out of his cell and torn up the headquarters in the process. Then the Avengers followed after him. And they were about to come back any minute now. Right? But what if it was worse? What if someone worse than Loki broke in? What if they had to flee? What if they aren't coming back any minute?
A loud thud echoed abruptly down the basement hallway. You shared a glance with Peter, he nodded and you took off down the corridor, towards the noice. You ran, Peter at your heels, up a narrow staircase a down another identical corridor. When you rounded the corner you were stopped dead in your tracks, Peter ran into you, to slow to react.
He lay in front of you, bleeding from a wound in his stomach.
You hear Peters breath hitch.
AN//: PSA for those who may have read this story on my instagram and are reading it again here (idk why any of you would do that but), the parts aren't in the same order cause I've changed some to better fit wattpad, so if you're confused that's why 🙂