Team Ultimate

Part 6

(Recap: Peter works for HYDRA. Sent to kill Tony. Failed. His friend was caught. They went back for her. Saved her. His friends escaped. Now he's determined to kill Tony, who he doesn't know is his biological father. (Ugh, recaps are annoying to write.))

Peter stalked down the hallway, kicking open every door, handgun in front of him, ready to shoot if necessary.

The lights were still out. Everything was dark. He didn't even have a flashlight. It was also completely silent. The only sound he could hear was car horns in the distance. New York never slept, he supposed.

He shoved open another door. Nothing. On to the next one. That was the one they had found and rescued Ava from. Her book was still open, laying on the ground.

The silence was starting to get to him. He hated silence.

"Stark!" He roared loudly, not caring who heard. He was rewarded with a distant tap that he wouldn't have been able to hear if not for his enhanced ears. Too bad they were still slightly ringing from Hawkeye's sonic arrow.

Peter zeroed in on the small sound. He spun around a corner and whipped his gun up in front of him. There wasn't a person, but a door closing and locking.

Found you, slinthead.

(Yes I just did that. Screw off.)

Peter pointed the gun at the door handle and pulled the trigger. It blasted away from him, the door limping open now with nothing to hold it shut. The teen kicked it all the way open and lifted his handgun, surprised at what he found.

It was a kid's bedroom. There was a lot of Iron Man; the sheets on the child sized bed, a poster on the wall, an Iron Man teddy bear. Little toys like cars and army men littered the floor. Peter tilted his head. It was strangely familiar. Strucker hadn't told him Stark had a son.

The man himself was sitting on a chair near the dresser, staring at the bed sadly.

"He was six."

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion.

Tony looked back at him, expression not changing, despite the gun pointed at his face. "My son. He was six years old when he went missing."

"Pity won't work with me," Peter growled and slipped his finger onto the trigger.

"This isn't about me," Tony pointed out. "His nanny was sick that day, but I still had to work, so I dropped him off at a nearby daycare."

"I don't care about your sob story!"

"This isn't my story, Peter! It's yours," Stark snapped and stood up.

Peter froze. "Liar. You're just trying to save your own ass."

As he said it a wave of de ja vu hit him. Being in that kid's room was getting to him.

"They told me someone else picked you up from the daycare. Someone I sent to get you. But I would never trust my son with anyone else."

"Quit it! I'm not your son!" Peter shouted, anger lining his voice.

"Peter..."

The teen pushed the tip of the barrel against his chest. "How do you even know my name?"

"Because I named you, Godamnit!" Tony's eyes clouded. Huh, where did that dust come from? It was making his eyes water.

I do not care who you are related to as long as you do as I say!

Peter! Stark, he's your fath–

Father?

No, no that wasn't possible. His father was a nobody that Strucker hadn't even bothered to tell him about. Not the man he had sent them to assassinate.