The itsy bitsy spider

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Tony Stark was presumed dead.

Because Hydra had taken him.

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Three weeks after the team had seen Tony for the last time, they got a lead.

So they suited up, heading for the remote outpost.

Steve stood at the back of the jet, all eyes on him.

"Okay. We go in fast, and we get out quick. We'll have to spread out, search all the rooms. Nat, I need you to take out all cameras. Clint, you stay, because we might have to get out quick."

He glanced at Peter, who had been silent the entire ride, which was unusual for him. "Kid, you focus on finding Stark."

Peter glanced up briefly, and nodded sharply, then went back to staring at his mask, which was clenched in his fists.

"You okay, паук?" Natasha asked quietly.

Peter shook his head. "Just- what if he isn't there? What if he actually is dead?"

Clint looked back, studying the teen, interpreting his silence correctly. "He'll be there."

Peter exhaled. "I hope."

Natasha moved to sit beside him, and touched his arm. "He will. We just have to find him."

Their conversation was interrupted by Steve standing up. "We're here."

Peter pulled the mask over his face, giving a brief nod to Steve.

Then they entered the building.

Peter scanned the building, using Karen, and headed directly for the cells containing heat signatures.

He made it to almost all the cells before he found anything.

At the very last, he opened the door, silently stepping in.

Then the door slammed shut behind him.

And something hissed out of a hole in the wall.

His vision went dark.

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The soldiers dragged Peter down the corridors, one speaking rapidly in Russian.

They stopped as he received an order, and turned to the side, where a door was bolted shut.

Peter was shoved in, and the door slammed shut.

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Peter opened his eyes to complete darkness. He wondered if his eyes actually were open, because he could see nothing.

The cell was dark, and cold. So, so cold. His breath was misting.

As his eyes gradually adjusted, he could see that the cell, in question, was tiny. Cursing under his breath, he turned to study his surroundings.

And froze, his blood turning to ice.

Because on the floor in front of him was Tony Stark.

Peter dropped to the floor beside the body of his adopted dad. His voice caught in his throat. "Dad? Wake up, please, wake up."

He scanned the cell, repressing a shudder at the realization. They were trapped.

A barely disguised tremor was noticeable in his voice as he turned back to the prone figure beside him. "You're gonna be okay, you hear me? You'll be okay. I'm here. We'll get you out."

His ears caught the sound of a faint moan, and he watched with bated breath as Tony's eyelids fluttered open, focusing on Peter.

"Pete?" his voice was almost too quiet to hear it.

Irondad OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now