Continued from last chapter.
Steve slid his arm under Tony's shoulders, sitting him up. "Yeah. It's okay. We'll get you out of here."
Tony struggled to stand. "P-Peter- they've got Peter- need help-"
Steve frowned. "The others will find him."
Tony hobbled toward the door. "I have to find him."
Steve gripped his arm. "You're gonna fall if you keep this up, Stark. Let me help you. We'll find him, okay?"
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The team met up at the hangar. Tony scanned their forms for Peter, and when he didn't see him, he tried to go back the way they'd come.
But before he could move, the door swung open, silently.
They exchanged wary glances, but entered the room.
What met their eyes was a straight line of soldiers, all in black, all masked.
The one standing in front of them was still, and silent, except for barking an order.
"Al mio segnale."
His voice sounded somehow familiar.
Young, but authoritative.
He was the only one not wearing a mask, but his face was shadowed, not allowing them to see it.
Tony stayed back. Super assassins weren't really his forte, especially not when he was weak, in pain, and malnourished.
The team took fighting stances. Nine of the soldiers went for them, and the leader went for Tony.
He was agile, lithe, and strong. Very, very strong.
Tony managed to hold him off for several seconds, but when he stumbled, the soldier was on him in a flash.
Tony felt hands wrap around his throat, and the grip tightened, cutting off his airway.
Before he passed out, his gaze moved up. His eyes met dark brown ones. He knew those eyes, that face.
"P-ete?" He wheezed.
The grip slackened, and he gasped for air.
His attacker stepped back, going to one knee, clutching his throat.
Tony held a hand out. "Pete? Peter..."
The boy clawed at his neck, at the collar they could now see on his neck.
"Aiuto..."
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At the panicked whisper, Tony rushed forward, kneeling beside the boy.
"Pete, Pete please answer me."
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"Pete, Pete please answer me."
Darkness.
Choking.
Can't breathe.
Voices.
Gentle.
Pain.
"Open your eyes."
"It's okay."
So many voices.
So much noise.
Can't breathe.
Can't breathe.
Help me.
Dad.
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Tony paced worriedly outside the door of the medical wing.
"Tones. Relax. He'll be okay. Besides, shouldn't you be getting checked out?"
Tony ignored Steve's gentle question, instead going to the window, and looking at Peter.
They had finally gotten him breathing again, the collar gone, and he was sleeping peacefully.
Relatively.
As they watched, his eyes flew open, and he shot up, gasping for breath, clutching at his throat.
Tony rushed in, grabbing Bruce's attention. "Careful Tony," he warned, but Tony ignored him, going straight to Peter.
The teenager was calming down, somewhat, eyes still scared, and wary.
Tony sat on the chair, being careful not to make any sudden movements.
"Hey Peter. You feeling okay?"
The teenager nodded slowly, and Tony felt reassured, which was wiped away at Peter's next words.
"Who is Peter?"