Warnings: Violence, murder, panic attacks.

Steve was beginning to grow worried after no response from Deadpool, but then jumped as Deadpool suddenly spoke into the com, "I found Spidey!"

Relief flooded over him and he nearly sank to his knees. He coughed the spoke quickly back at him, "How is he?"

There was a short pause over the line and he could hear scuffling, like someone was fighting over something, and was about to demand what was going on when a new voice spoke up.

"Steve?"

This time, he did fall to his knees. There was still gunshots that rang around him every now and then but the numbers of the HYDRA agents had dwindled dramatically, most of them either fleeing or lying dead around the facility. He was absolutely certain that Natasha alone could handle them, and she had quite a bit of help at the moment.

The sound of Peter's voice was scratchy but strong and full of hope. Steve never thought that he would be so glad to hear the teenager's voice before.

"P-Spiderman!" he caught himself quickly, not wanting to jeopardize Peter's identity to the other heroes on the line, "Are you o-"

"Where's Bucky?" Peter quickly interrupted him, "They said they triggered him back to the Winter Soldier. Steve, you've got to stop him! He'll never be able to forgive himself if he hurts someone!"

The moment Peter finished, Steve was talking, voice calm, "Bucky is in the Quinjet. He's okay. We brought the X-Men along and Charles Xavier was able to bring him back."

He could hear the audible sigh of relief that escaped Peter over the com, and he smiled lightly to himself before continuing, "Can you and Deadpool make your way up here? We're almost done dealing with the rest of the HYDRA agents."

There's another moment's pause before Peter responds, "Yeah. We're on our way."

Peter really wasn't sure what to think of Deadpool.

On one hand, he was covered in blood, and currently talking to invisible people while the two of them scooted along through the vents, trying to find their way out. On the other, Steve seemed to trust him, and Peter trusted Steve.

"How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck would," Deadpool is proudly proclaiming his skills, the words echoing off the vents, "See!" he boasts to someone that Peter cannot see, and that worries him a lot, "I told you that I could do it!" There's a pause, and then he sighs, "Fine. Peter Parker picked a peck of pickled peppers."

"What?" Peter furrows his eyebrows, "That's not how it goes… and how do you know my name?"

Surely the Avengers wouldn't have told him that. He had trusted them with his identity. They wouldn't just give it away like that.

Deadpool didn't answer immediately, instead simply repeating, "Sally sells seashells but the seashore," and failing at that one, causing him to curse. Then, he acted as if he had just heard Peter, "Oh, we're good friends in another universe."

"Another… universe?" Peter mumbled under his breath, more than a little confused.

Deadpool either did not hear him or decided not to answer, as he continued with the tongue twisters for the next five minutes, until the two of them arrived at the vent. As he is in front of him, Deadpool simply punches the vent out, and then drags himself out. He crashes to the floor in a heap, and Peter pears out at the man when he gets to the vent.

"It's a bit of a rough fall," Deadpool announces the obvious as he jumps up to his feet, then holds out his hands as if to help Peter out.

Yeah, no way. Peter was fifteen years old and had super powers. He was not about to be helped out of a vent.

Instead, he pulled himself out until his torso was in the hall, then reached above the vent and placed his hand onto the wall, sticking it. Once he did the same with the other, he dragged the rest of his body out, and crawled down the wall.

His leg protested painfully the moment he put weight on it, but besides a soft hiss, he did not show his pain. Deadpool, it seemed, was actually very observant.

"You're hurt," he said, "I should carry you."

"No!" Peter leaned against the wall and held one hand to his leg, breathing heavily. He glared at the man, "I heal fast. I'm fine."

Deadpool shook his head and… did his mask's eyes just narrow?

"I have a healing factor. You're hurt. I'm carrying you."

Peter stubbornly shook his head. He sucked in a breath and then took a step forward, ignoring the pain, "I can walk. See?"

"Nope. You don't have to convince me, but I am not going to get yelled at by Capsicle," Deadpool spoke. His voice was cheerful, and it sounded odd to Peter, who had not heard anything resembling cheer in what seemed like forever. He walked in front of Peter and knelt down, "Come on. I'll give you a piggy back ride!"

Peter frowned and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at the man, "No. No way."

Five minutes later, Peter was grumbling as he clutched onto Deadpool, rather uncomfortably, trying desperately not to fall off as the man raced through the hall, katanas drawn with blood still dripping off of them. The man, whom Peter was absolutely certain was insane, was belting the lyrics to "My Shot" from Hamilton, and Peter had never felt so confused in his life.

A part of him is glad for the confusion and annoyance that seems overwhelming. It distracts him from the pain and fear that has been strangling him the past few days.

It doesn't take them long for them to come across a HYDRA agent. They are rushing down the halls, towards them, looking as if they are trying to flee. They draw a gun when they see them, shouting for them to stay still, and then-

Deadpool's katanas sliced through their body effortless, as if it was made of jello instead of skin and bones. Peter cries out, and the shock that goes through him causes him to lose his grip. He falls off of Deadpool's back and lands roughly on his injured leg, eyes glued to the now-dead HYDRA agent before him.

He feels sick. His eyes can't leave the sight of the body, cut in half and laying in a pool of blood. Wide, terrified eyes stare back at Peter. Their gun clangs to the ground and then lies motionless a few feet from the body. From the dead body. Who had just been alive, and now wasn't, because they had been sliced in half.

Fresh blood drips from Deadpool's katana. He turns to Peter, the eyes on his mask widening, and stares.

"You-you killed them," Peter chokes out, barely able to speak. His entire body is suddenly shaking and he blinks several times, "You killed them."

"I prefer the term unaliving," Deadpool responds, voice chipper as ever, but there's something in his voice that Peter hadn't heard before. Something like… worry?

Peter can't stop staring at the body before him. Bile rises in his throat. His mind can't seem to comprehend what just happened. Peter doesn't kill. He refuses to kill anyone, even these HYDRA agents. And the fact that Deadpool had just sliced them like a piece of meat, and Peter had just watched…

He's turning his body and throwing up the measly piece of bread that he had recently had.

"Aw, come on, Spidey," Deadpool whines, "That was a bad guy! I did a good thing!"

But Peter barely heard him. The shock that came with witnessing the death of the HYDRA agent suddenly slammed hard into Peter, and he felt the adrenaline seeping away. His energy was crashing, the results of hunger and injuries, causing his eyes to flicker closed. A groan escaped his lips and his body began falling forward.

Hands grabbed him before he fell into the mess he had made a few minutes earlier, and he felt himself being lifted into the air.

The last thing he heard before everything suddenly slipped away from him was cheerful singing.

When Deadpool and Peter had ceased talking through the com, Steve had gotten back into the fight. There wasn't much to do. The majority of HYDRA agents were either dead or had run off, so Steve was mostly just walking around slowly, making sure that no one was hiding in the shadows. Natasha had disappeared, deciding to do a run through the building to begin helping some of the captive people out. She had already called SHIELD to bring some backup to help them get them out. Nightcrawler had gone with her, but the majority of people were in the Quinjet, waiting for them to come back.

Then, as Steve was rounding a corner, he suddenly came face to face with Deadpool, and his eyes were instantly drawn to the teenage boy in his arms.

Peter looked like a wreck. He was pale and stripped down to just his boxers, and was covered in blood and bruises. He was limp in Deadpool's arms, and Steve's stomach knotted in worry.

He surged forward, panic erupting through his veins, "What happened?" he demanded, taking Peter from Deadpool's arms, eyes raking over his broken body and noting each injury. He swallowed and took a shaky breath, repeating his question, "What happened?"

"We were almost caught by HYDRA," Deadpool spoke in a cheery voice as he began to skip towards the exit, where the Quinjet was waiting, "I had to unalive them, and he got a bit freaked out."

Before Steve could say anything else, Deadpool suddenly teleported away. Steve had a feeling that this wasn't the last time he would see him.

Bruce had thought he was ready when Steve brought Peter in. He wasn't.

The combination of relief and anger that flowed through him at the sight of the teenager, of his friend, of the boy whom he had come to see as a nephew, had his skin tinted green. Sam, who had awoken and was currently laying down in the QuinJet, temporary bandages wrapped around his stomach (he would be treated more when they reached the MedBay), put a hand on his shoulder, and he focused on his touch. He breathed in slowly, reigning himself in, and had calmed himself down by the time Steve slowly placed Peter on the floor in front of him.

There is only a few minutes between when Peter is placed in front of him and when the QuinJet begins to lift off the ground, taking them to Stark Tower. Rhodey was driving instead of Clint, who usually did it, as Clint was nursing a bullet wound.

Bruce could not do much while they were in the QuinJet. He pressed a towel against Peter's thigh, trying to stop the bleeding, as Tony used JARVIS to take his vitals, repeating them to Bruce in a low, worried tone.

"He has a mild concussion, a stab wound on his thigh, several lacerations on his torso, broken right index finger, fractured right wrist that's almost healed, cracked rib, and his body is suffering from starvation and dehydration," Tony informed him.

Frowning, Bruce examined the wounds, trying to see if any were infected, "The starvation probably affected his healing ability. We'll have to watch that carefully. He'll probably heal slower than usual."

There's a murmur of acknowledgement from the rest of the team, sans Natasha who stayed back to help SHIELD get the others out of the HYDRA base.

Bruce knows that no matter what, the team is going to make sure that Peter heals, both physically and mentally. They all know, some of them firsthand, what torture can do to someone and Peter is only fifteen years old.

The rest of the ride back to Stark Tower is in silence.

Bucky wakes up in the MedBay a few hours later. His head is pounding and his entire body feels sore. He blinks awake, memory fuzzy, and tries to think of what happened that would have landed him there. The last thing that he can remember is entering the HYDRA base.

He is quick to notice Steve beside his bed, leaning back in a chair and sleeping. He's leaning slightly to the opposite side of Bucky, with a bandage covering his thigh, and he notices that his friend is clutching the hand of whoever is in the bed next to him. It takes him a moment to recognize Peter's sleeping face. It's bruised and he looks so much paler than Bucky remembers. His stomach clenches.

He turns his head forward and notices that both Sam and Clint are in the other two beds. They're both awake, however. Sam is shirtless, and there is bandages wrapped tightly around his torso as he reads a book. Clint is tossing a ball into the air and catching it with one hand, the other wrapped in bandages as well.

He shuffles a bit, trying to sit up, and Clint's eyes snap towards him. For a moment, those eyes are full of alarm, looking as if he is about to attack Bucky if he moves too quickly, and it makes him freeze. Then, however, a smile appears on Clint's face, nervous but relieved, and the man slowly makes his way to his feet and walks over.

Clint takes a seat by Bucky's feet, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," Bucky responds with a grimace, "What happened?"

The smile fell from Clint's face, and he spoke in a dark voice, "HYDRA happened."

The word 'HYDRA' sent dread down his spine. Bucky stiffened, eyes widening slightly, and his heart began to pound as if it was trying to bust out of his chest and escape the realization of what had happened. He brought a shaking hand to his chest and licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, "I-I- I was the Winter Soldier, wasn't I?"

Clint could not answer him verbally, and instead just nodded. Blue eyes stared into his sternly, "It wasn't your fault."

"What did I do?" he asked desperately, breath hitching in his chest. No. No, no, no, no, no, "Did I hurt anyone? Did I kill anyone?"

"No," Clint said, shaking his head firmly. He leaned forward, grabbing Bucky's arm, grip tight and reassuring, "You didn't hurt anyone."

Bucky wasn't quite sure if he believed him. He could feel panic beginning to creep through him. He had lost control. He couldn't remember anything about it. His eyes flickered to the bandage on the man's shoulder, "But-"

"You didn't do this," Clint said, gesturing to the wound, "This was some HYDRA goon."

Bucky's eyes trailed over to Sam, who was looking up from his book now, a pensive look on his face. He brought one hand down to his torso and said, "It was the Winter Soldier. It wasn't you."

Sam did not blame him.

But Bucky had been the one to hurt him.

His breaths came out quickly now, and he clenched his intact hand into a fist, nails digging into the flesh. He had lost control, and one of his teammates had been hurt. He had hurt him. He had hurt Sam.

"Bucky," Sam speaks slowly. He moves to sit up, to walk over to them, but a hiss of pain leaves his lips, sending bolts of guilt through Bucky. He decides not to move and speaks slowly from his bed, "This was not your fault. I'm fine. We're all fine. We've got a little bit of healing to do, but it's nothing permanent, and it wasn't your fault."

Bucky doesn't think he can believe the man but it is at that time that Steve wakes up. He groans lightly as he sits up straighter, stretching and grimacing as his body protests to the position that he had been sleeping in. He blinks blearily at them, and a confused expression covers his face, "What's going on?"

Clint hops off Bucky's bed, walking over to Steve and pointing accusingly at Bucky, "He's blaming himself like you said."

"Bucky…"

"Get back in bed," Bruce enters the room, sending a sharp look at Clint as he makes his way over to Peter to check his vitals, "You're injured, or did you forget? Don't make me send Natasha in here."

Clint actually pouts and Bucky finds his mood lifting despite himself as the man stomps over to the bed and sits down roughly, "I'm fine. I've had way worse."

"Doctor's orders, Clint," Bruce said simply. Bucky turns his head to watch the man take Peter's pulse and temperature, "Besides, Natasha will not be happy if I pull her away from her work. She and Tony are trying to contact T'Challa to discuss the vibranium they found."

Bucky blinks and frowns at that, "What are you talking about?"

"After we left the base, Natasha stayed back with some SHIELD agents. There were several people who were being held captive and experimented on there so they needed to get them out. However, Natasha came across a room filled with weapons made from vibranium," Steve explained, "Tony is pretty sure that T'Challa would never allow them to get it, so they think it was stolen," at Bucky's still confused look, Steve clarified, "T'Challa is the new king of Wakanda, which is the only country to produce vibranium. He just took over after his father passed away last year."

Bucky nodded slowly, trying to process all of this in his mind.

While Steve had been talking, Bruce had continued checking Peter over. He was frowning lightly and spoke up the moment Steve fell silent, "Peter's fever's gone up to 106. That's not as bad for him, due to his abilities, as it would be for a normal human, but it's still not good. We need to get the fever down."

Peter woke up to the feeling of something cold and damp being placed on his forehead. For a moment, his mind was blank, and the only thing that he processed was the cool sensation on his burning skin, but then the panic set in. He could almost feel the wet rag sliding down his face, covering his mouth and nose, restricting his breathing until his chest was burning and he could see black dots covering his vision. He could hear the woman's laughter echoing around the room.

A shout escaped his lips and he reacted without thinking, lashing out at whoever was near him. He felt his fist his something, or someone, and he used his other hand to fling the rag away from his face. He breathed heavily and moved quickly, pushing himself against the wall, desperate to get away from them.

"Peter!" someone shouted, and then there was a hand on his arm, and he lashed out again. He felt his fist connect with flesh, and someone cursed, and then said, "Peter, calm down! You're safe!"

But he wasn't safe. He was in that room, that dark, empty room, and he could see her staring at him, eyes wide and gleeful as he screamed and begged her to stay away, stay away, stop, stop, stop, stop.

"Peter, you're safe. You're at the MedBay. You're home. You're safe," someone was saying, but Peter knew they were lying. They were trying to trick him.

He curled into a ball, trying to protect as much of his body as he could. His hands covered his head and he buried his face in his knees, whimpers leaving his lips, and he waited for the pain.

But the pain didn't come.

His heart rate, which had skyrocketed, began to slow down. He took deep breaths and blinked slowly, lifting his head in confusion and fear, expecting to see them.

Instead, he saw Steve in front of him, hands held out as if he wanted to touch Peter but didn't dare, eyes wide and concerned. He saw Bruce standing off to the side, pale and clutching the rag that Peter had thrown in slight horror. He saw Clint and Sam in beds across, watching quietly. He saw Bucky, stiff, metal arm gripping the bed that he sat on tightly.

"You're safe," Steve spoke again, and Peter's breath hitched as he realized exactly where he was. He was not at the HYDRA base anymore. No, he was home.

"S-Steve?" he spoke, voice small and hesitant.

A smile appeared on the man's face. He leaned in and slowly wrapped an arm around Peter, watching carefully in case Peter moved away, but Peter leaned in, desperate for comfort at the moment. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, "You're safe," he repeated, holding onto Peter, hugging him in a way that Peter could not remember being hugged since his Aunt May had died, "You're safe."

For the first time in several days, Peter let himself relax. He leaned into Steve's arms, closed his eyes, and reveled in the feeling of home.

AN: I know, I know. I'm trash. This chapter took forever. The only excuse that I have is that I had this written a long time ago and accidentally saved something over it (the adkof one-shot that I am writing to celebrate 200 reviews) and I was so disappointed in myself that I couldn't bare myself to write it over again. But here it is! Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long.

The one-shot that is in the works might take a while to come out, because you guys know me, but it will take place alongside A Different Kind of Family, and is going to be each time someone in Peter's life realized that they cared about him, starting with May. May and Gwen will have scenes before ADKOF started, but the rest of the team will have scenes that occur in ADKOF.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Leave a review if you did. This story is almost over, but I do have plans for A Different Kind of Civil War ft. Ultron, so we still have that to look forward to!