It's a Spider Family. {Sequel to 'It's a Spider Thing'.}

{31} the function will not change the nature

"I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU."

Peter shifted, getting ready to pounce as he followed Cain with his eyes. The man was unperturbed by the intense stare down as his fingers danced casually across the back of the couch.

"For a killer, you're very sentimental. Aren't you?" He questioned, though he didn't wait for a response as he let out a long, thoughtful breath and pulled his hand back. "Would be such a shame for something to happen to that boyfriend of yours, or that witch you're so fond of." He taunted as his eyes flicked to the bedroom door- Peter felt as if ice-cold water had been poured over him.

He stilled, face paling in the yellow light that bled in from the streetlamps through the open curtains.

Raindrops continued to assault the window as Peter struggled to form a coherent thought, his mind freezing at the very real threat in front of him.

"What about the aunt? Or that redhead? She looks like fun. I wonder how we could tear her apart-"

A growl rose in Peter's throat at the threat towards Natasha; he was under no impression that the assassin couldn't handle herself, but Peter felt all his rational thinking and restraint abandon him in favour of launching himself at the man like a feral animal.

His body collided harshly with Cain's, sending them both tumbling over the couch in a clash of limbs and onto the ground from the abrupt assault- the couch tipped over as they landed. The small collection of Hydra agents immediately backed away into the corners of the room instead of intervening while Peter wrestled the man to the ground.

It was too easy- Peter's sense bristled as he secured the man into a headlock.

Cain was laughing. It was wheezy from Peter's tight hold on his windpipe.

"What do you know?" He ground out, barely holding back from snapping the man's neck. Cain chuckled more at the question before heaving a breath and grinning like a mad man.

"Hydra agents are positioned up and down this street. They'll shoot your precious family," he mocked despite the position he was in, "before they even know what's coming. Checkmate."

There was a moment of silence that echoed around them.

Peter's mind processed the damning implications before he loosened his grip entirely. His body slumped forwards while Cain rolled onto his back. He coughed slightly and fixed his tie. He patted Peter on the shoulder like he was an old friend once he had clambered back to his feet.

The teen's jaw clenched at the unwanted contact as he stayed on the floor. His eyes were closed.

Peter knew he'd go down fighting on the wrong side of history, but a small part of him was saddened to realise he wasn't wrong. All the good he had done as Spiderman had been for nothing.

A strange helplessness settled in the pit of his stomach.

"Submission- that's what I like to see. Though, I am surprised." Cain prattled on, oblivious to Peter's silence and lack of attention. He gestured for an agent on the outskirts of the room to step forwards impatiently. "You were raised to be a weapon. I suppose even if you use a spear as a walking stick it is still a spear- the function will not change the nature." Peter opened his eyes again, Cain's words ringing in his ears when the agent stopped in front of him, cuffs in hand.

"You'll leave them alone, if I go?" He asked, chest rising and falling in barely contained stutters.

Peter's thoughts strayed to the message that had to have been sent off by now and Wanda and Harley trapped in the bedroom, still deathly silent. Cain hummed in agreement with a bored eyeroll.

"But of course." He appeased.

Nodding, Peter raised his hands in surrender and allowed the cuffs to be clamped onto his wrists despite the impulse to cringe away and the spike in his heartrate. He let his body be hauled to its feet.

-

The avengers had assembled almost immediately after the call had ended. Tony had managed to trace the call to a general area before the message came through with the full address.

Within minutes the quinjet was hovered in the air above the street.

As usual, Tony was one of the first to leave with Steve not far behind him. Natasha felt her body hum with adrenaline while she sent Clint off to his vantage point with a meaningful look that doubled as a warning to not be a complete idiot. Then she joined Thor and Vision before following the rest of the team into the night air, leaving Bruce safe on the jet in case of a code green.

Silently, Clint reached his vantage point, feeling the cool wind against his skin.

He looked down at the street below, allowing his body to lean over the side for a moment before he pulled back and gripped the bow in his hands a little tighter. His ears pricked, hearing a set of breathing that wasn't his own- he strained his eyes as he turned around. The building should have been abandoned; the perfect place for him to keep an eye on the team uninterrupted.

Notching an arrow, Clint crept forwards when something pricked his neck- he lurched back.

On instinct, the archer let the arrow fly across the roof where the projectile had originated from and was rewarded by the soft 'thump' as it unwaveringly hit the target.

A body dropped to the ground and Clint plucked out the small dart from his neck.

For a moment, all the man could do was stare at the offending object in confusion, his brain already hazing over from the effects. He jolted when his mind caught up to what he was seeing and dropped the dart on instinct- he stumbled back slightly, the world beginning to double around him.

Clint lifted a shaking hand to the earpiece.

"Hey guys?" His voice sounded weak and trembly, even to his own ears. He blinked in an attempt to refocus the world but it tilted in protest. "I think, I think I've been drugged."

There was a tense silence that settled over the comms at the new information. Then everyone spoke.

Nat responded first. "Where are you?" her voice was sharp and tinged with worry.

"Are you sure? What's your status?" Came Steve, authoritative as always.

Tony piped up, "Katniss stay there, I'm coming-" his repulsors loud and roaring in the background.

"Either the world's spinning, or I'm falling." Clint mumbled; there was a soft thud and a groan over the comms. "Ok. That's on me. I was falling. Shit." He panted, pulling at his suit.

"Barton. Location now." He was sure that voice was Natasha's. It sounded panicked.

He didn't like her panicking. It made him panic. Clint tried to answer the question, he swears, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and uncooperative when he tried to formulate a response. He groaned instead, his head starting to thud painfully when he noticed agents beginning to approach him. The Hydra symbol was glaringly obvious as Clint slumped back against the wall, his limbs refusing to move and reach for his bow.

He could feel his skin flushing and his eyes taking longer to open each time they stubbornly fell shut. The voice of his teammates echoed uselessly in his ear.

"Clint? Clint!" Was the last he heard of Natasha before he blacked out. 

A/N

Peter going nuts when someone threatens Natasha will never not fill my heart with glee. And Clint slowly losing consciousness and the way Natasha panics? * chef's kiss *

Anywho! Let me know of any spelling mistakes! xoxo.