Peter flinched as another voice met his ears in the dark.

"New subject, number fourteen, randomly selected today. He's healthy, and in good condition, stats already recorded. He's ready for testing."

He didn't know where he was, or who the voices belonged to, but every instinct he had said he was in trouble, and he didn't want whatever testing they were planning.

He was tied to a bed, after being dragged to a van while walking home from school, and he had a blindfold on. His heart raced in his chest as he pulled gently at the restraints; they were leather, but he could easily get out of them if he wanted.

The problem, was that whoever had taken him, had grabbed Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, and he couldn't use his abilities without risking the exposure of his identity.

"Injecting experiment X-T-5 now."

Peter felt a prick at his arm, and tried to pull away as something was injected into him.

"Ow, stop!" He felt his skin tug over his chest, where sticky circles had been placed, and he knew they were attached to wires on a heart monitor, listening to the beeping quicken, as he panicked.

The needle was removed, and the voices left, their footsteps trailing away, before the click of a door being shut could be heard.

Peter was getting far too close to hyperventilation, and he knew he needed to calm down and think, if he wanted to get out of whatever horrible situation he'd been pulled into.

He'd been training with the Avengers, and Steve had been giving him advice that came back to him now, the memory of the captain's voice soothing Peter just a little bit.

"Your abilities give you heightened senses, so don't forget to use them in battle. They can be the difference between life and death."

Okay, senses. He couldn't see anything while blind-folded, but he could hear, and smell, and feel.

Firstly, there had been two voices, but three sets of footsteps; and one of the voices had said he was just one of many people taken for some experiment.

Peter focused on his hearing, listening for any sound, no matter how little. There was the heart monitor, the hum of electricity, some faint screams down the hall…that wasn't good.

The screams were from kids, different ages, about four of them. If he was going to get out, he wasn't going to leave them behind, but there was still the issue of the secret identity.

Peter blocked out the screams and focused on anything else he could hear. There was something, at the top corner of the room; it sounded electronic, and a little mechanical…it was a camera, humming as it moved, likely sweeping the room for movement.

Dammit. If he hadn't been watched he could have broken out, but now he just had to wait until presented with an opportunity to escape, that didn't include his abilities.

Maybe one of the kidnappers would undo his restraints for something, and he could fight back then. What were they even experimenting? He'd been injected with something, but he didn't feel any different.

Peter tugged a little at the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, frustrated at having to play victim when he could so easily rip out of the leather. He sighed, resigning himself to waiting for either the kidnappers to slip up, or for Tony and the others to find him; which they likely would since he was supposed to meet them after school for training.

But Peter hated waiting, and even though he could escape anytime he wanted, he was afraid. He didn't even know where he was, or why. The only thing that kept him from losing it completely was the knowledge that the Avengers would come for him.

He didn't have to wait for too long, after just an hour, his ears were assaulted with an alarm that blared throughout the whole building, screams and yells from experiments and kidnappers alike echoing through the halls.

Peter tossed his head on the pillow, trying to hear what was happening, but there were too many crashes and screams to be able to untangle it all. He grunted in annoyance, as he waited; knowing it was his rescue team because of the familiar sound of the Iron-Man suits blasters.

The noises were getting louder, and Peter could make out gruff shouts and bangs, like doors being kicked in.

"FBI! Get on the ground!"

Well, that wasn't the Avengers.

"Peter! Where are you?" That, however, was. Tony sounded panicked, and Peter could make out a softer voice after Tony's yell. "He'll be okay, we'll find him." That was Steve, always level headed, which made Tony even angrier in most situations.

"I'm here! Tony!" He tugged at the restraints again, and whipped his head to his shoulder as the door was kicked in, pieces of wood and metal flying over him.

"Peter! Thank god, I was so worried."

Hands tore his restraints away, while another pair pulled the blindfold off, and Peter quickly smiled when he saw his heroes above him.

"Finally! You guys took ages, I was so bored."

Steve laughed, as he carefully pulled the wires from Peters chest, while Tony took the kids face in his hands and opened the face of his helmet, so Peter could see his concerned frown.

"Are you really okay? Did they hurt you?"

The teenager sat up and shook his head, smiling. "No, I'm fine. They injected me with something, but I don't think it did anything, I feel totally normal."

Tony let go of his face, to help him to his feet, and led him out the door, where FBI agents were ushering other kids, and arrested scientists, out of the building.

"We'll have Bruce test everything, to make sure, but we don't know what it was they were testing you all with, they destroyed everything the minute we got here."

Peter followed them out, just ready to go home, when Steve put a hand on his chest and pushed him back, stepping in front of him.

"Hold on, Pete."

Tony turned back to the soldier, sharing a look with him before peering down the hall where some of the other stolen kids were being led out. Some of them looked okay, but Peter saw, as he leant around Steve and Tony, that some of them weren't. There were far more kids than he'd first realised, and some had blood pouring from their noses and mouth, one had bright red streaks down his cheeks like tears of blood. But the worst, were the kids rolled out on gurneys and stretchers, white sheets draped from their feet, up over their faces.

Peter let out a breath, now far more scared than he'd been before. Tony swore under his breath, and Steve gently directed Peter to his side, holding a hand over his eyes as they walked out. His voice was sombre.

"You don't need to see that."

But Peter already had, and he didn't think the images would ever leave his mind. What had they been given? Was that going to happen to him? What was experiment X-T-5?

Bruce didn't have many answers to any of the questions, but ran every test he knew of, to figure it out.

Peter was scared but Tony was beyond terrified. "You don't know anything?! How can you not know anything? I got the director of the FBI to give you all the information they had on the other patients, and you did a million tests on Peter! You can't know nothing!"

Peter sat on his bed in the medical bay, arms wrapped around himself as Steve rubbed comfortingly at his shoulder, although he was unaware that Peter was listening to Tony and Bruce's conversation from two rooms away.

Bruce sounded tired when he replied, and Peter could hear Tony's shaky inhale of breath as he tried to calm down.

"I'm not saying this is hopeless, Tony. I'll keep running tests on the blood and residue samples we got, and I know a little bit about the cause of death from the other kid's- "

A strangled noise, almost like a whimper, interrupted the doctor, and Tony's voice was quiet. "Please, don't call them that."

Bruce sighed, and Peter hugged himself tighter. "The other patients. Whatever they were injected with was most likely a virus, and I believe it to be mostly haemorrhagic, but the problem is that not all causes of death were the same. I think it might be a new virus, made of a combination of other ones. Some of them bled out through their skulls, others died because of what looked like meningitis."

Peter shivered, remembering the sheets covering the kids pulled out on gurneys. How many had died? Steve frowned and grabbed a blanket to drape across his shoulders, rubbing his big hand over the kids shoulder blades.

"You'll be okay, Bruce will sort it out."

Peter just nodded, knowing he couldn't give away his eavesdropping without being scolded by the soldier. He hadn't been scared when he was captured, but now, he was thinking about every bad thing that could have been injected into him.

Bruce and Tony walked back in, trying to cover how shaken they were. Tony smiled as he went and sat beside the teenager on the bed, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Peter leaned into him, feeling marginally better with him there.

"Bruce said you're perfectly fine, Pete. Isn't that good news?"

Bruce smiled encouragingly, as Peter searched his face for confirmation. "Really?"

"Your stats are all normal, and you aren't showing any symptoms of anything, so, I think maybe your enhanced system took care of everything. We will be keeping an eye on you for a little while, to make sure nothing comes up, but right now, you're perfectly fine."

Tony squeezed his shoulder as Petr let out a heavy sigh. "I thought…I thought that I'd end up like those kids. I wasn't scared when they took me, because I knew you'd find me, but then they…there were so many other kids taken. Are they okay?"

The question seemed to make Bruce uncomfortable, and Peter watched as he lowered his gaze to the floor, adjusting his glasses. "They'll be fine."

Peter frowned. Bruce was lying.

Tony pulled his attention back, with an overly cheerful voice. "Tests came back clean, so you have nothing to worry about. You can stay here at the compound till Bruce is satisfied nothing's going to happen, so, I'll have some stuff sent up to your room to keep you occupied."

Peter loved spending time at the compound, but it wasn't going to distract him from what was really happening. "You said they injected me and the others with a virus. Is it contagious?"

Bruce paled, and Tony sighed, façade dropping. "Were you eavesdropping again? How many times have I told you not to do that?"

Peter pulled his legs up onto the bed and folded them to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he curled into a ball. His voice was small, and he felt a little like crying. Steve sat on the other side of him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder, just as Tony did, so that he was squished in an Avenger sandwich.

"I hate when you keep things from me. I'm not a kid, you can tell me stuff."

Steve sighed this time. "But you are. We keep things from you, because you don't have to know everything. All you need to know is that we're going to take care of you, and that you'll be okay."

Peter looked up at Bruce, knowing full well his huge, damp eyes, would pull whatever answers he wanted from the scientist. The Doctor closed his eyes and shook his head a little, giving up.

"It's not contagious, and it's also not present in your system, right now. I don't know much about this new virus, but I will do everything in my power to help you and the other kids. I promise. You don't have to worry about this, that's my job, just let me know if you feel anything happening, like headaches, aches, nose bleeds, or dizziness. Anything, okay?"

Peter nodded, and Tony added. "I've updated some of the systems in your tracker watch, so it'll constantly send your vitals to Bruce, and as always, you have the panic button if anything happens and you need help."

The teenager fiddled with the watch on his wrist, and nodded; never so relieved to have his privacy breached so thoroughly.

The room went silent, as Peter stared at the floor, feeling small. Tony hesitated, sharing looks with both Bruce and Steve, before the super soldier nodded and leant down to talk to the youngest team member.

"Do you want to talk about what happened when you were taken? About what they did to you, or what you saw?"

Peter seemed to hug himself even tighter as he shook his head, leaning his chin on his knees. He didn't want to talk about it, but it came spilling out anyway. "I knew I could get out if I wanted, so I was mostly just annoyed, but then…I heard the screams and…I should have helped them. I should have just broken free and gotten everyone out."

Tony's words were kind but did nothing to soften the guilt Peter felt weighing him down. "There was nothing you could have done, Pete. You were the only kid taken that day, the rest had already been injected. And that would have given your identity away."

Steve's soothing voice came right after Tony's and Peter felt as if nothing could ever hurt him, when he was between them. "This isn't on you. You did the right thing. You even had your tracker on, so we could find you."

Peter had grown a habit of taking it off, which annoyed absolutely everyone, to no end. Tony tapped the watch, smiling. "Bet you don't hate it so much now, huh?"

Peter sniffed and rubbed a hand under his nose, the corners of his mouth curling up just a little. "Thanks for saving me."

The three men smiled, before Peter let out a small laugh. "Even though I totally could have done it myself, if they hadn't had camera's."

Tony let out a burst of laughter, making the teenager smile wider, shaking off his anxiety. "Oh, so what you're really saying is, thanks for nothing?"

Peter nodded as Tony rubbed his shoulder, and for that moment, he really felt like it would all work out okay.

Of course, because he's Peter Parker, it had to go wrong.

That night, Peter was walking to the kitchen, when he got suddenly dizzy. His head spun, and he grabbed the edge of the counter, to stop from toppling to the floor.

It passed just as quickly as it came, and Peter blinked as his heart raced.

But it was nothing, it had to be. He was fine.

"Peter?"

His head snapped up, to see Tony standing in the doorway, eyes narrowing at the hand clamped onto the counter.

"Everything okay?"

Peter quickly nodded and stood straighter, grateful that the dizziness didn't return. "Yeah, just getting some water."

He felt bad for lying, but if he told the truth, Tony would stick him in an MRI machine for the second time that day. It was only a couple of seconds, it was nothing.

Only, it wasn't, and Peter gradually grew worse.

First it was the dizziness, and then a headache began to form. Creeping through his skull, and down his neck, making it hard to move much. He would have hidden it, except it was beginning to scare him, and he didn't want to end up like the other victims.

He was sitting in bed, hands massaging the back of his head, trying to do anything to make the awful ache go away. It, like the dizziness, had come on so fast, and he decided it was time to find help.

The problem, was that, the virus was extremely aggressive, and once it started, it hit hard.

Peter threw his covers off, stumbling a little as he got up from his bed. Moving made his head hurt even worse, and he let out a whimper as he just tried to make it to the hallway.

Everything was spinning, he ached, his skin was cold, but his insides were too hot. His mind flickered with images of the other kids that had been taken; their pale faces, blood pouring down their noses, eyes, and mouths. Others had been too weak to walk by themselves, and he shook as he tried to make it just a few steps more.

His vision was blurring harshly, and he blinked in a poor attempt to clear it; hand sliding against the wall, holding him up as he tripped over his own feet.

He could hear the others talking now, Bruce muttering about something to do with the other patients. Peter couldn't concentrate on the words being said, only the sound of people that could help. He wanted to call out, to let them know he was there, but he was having trouble just breathing.

Tony and Steve's voices added to the mix, and Peter got sight of the doorway, light streaming through, allowing him to see where they were all talking around the counter in the kitchen.

Tony's phone beeped, the noise sudden enough to reach Peter's ears and pierce them like a knife, and he whimpered as his knees threatened to give out. He used Tony's voice to focus on.

"Peter's tracker. His temperature's too high, and his heartrate's up."

Peter let out a sob of relief, taking another wobbly step. 'Yes, I need help. Come find me.'

But Bruce shook his head, visible through the crack in the door. "It's not high enough to be a worry yet. He's probably just having a nightmare."

Peter clenched his hand into a fist and moved faster to the door. He was only a few meters away from it now, and he did his best to just move a little closer, but his head spun, and his body shook, and he fell to the floor in a heap. He landed hard, on the soft carpet, and released a small grunt of pain as he struck the ground. His eyes didn't want to stay open, but he had to get help, he had to-

Tony sounded upset. "But he- "

Steve's voice interrupted, always comforting and rational. "If he needs help he'll let us know. He has the panic button if he needs it, but until then, he just needs to know that everything is okay. Panicking isn't going to make him feel better."

Peter could have kicked himself if he had the strength to move. Of course, he had forgotten about the panic button, because he had never had a cause to use it. His vision was invaded with black spots, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness, but he just had to do one thing first.

His arm was so heavy, he didn't know if he could make it, but finally, he managed to bring his hand up to the tracker on his wrist, and push the panic button.

The reaction was immediate, alarms blared through the compound, and three phones chimed at once from the kitchen, declaring Peter was in trouble.

Tony let out a shout, as Peter let his head drop to the floor, and allowed his eyes to close.

"Peter!"

Three pairs of thundering footsteps sprinted towards him, stopping as Tony gasped and fell to his knees. Peter felt the thud beside him, and the touch of hands on his back, from where he was curled on the floor.

"Bruce! He's- "

Peter dipped in between awareness, and fog, as the doctor interjected. "We need to get him to the med bay."

Peters world titled and rocked, and strong hands slipped underneath him, pulling him up to a solid mass of warmth, which he knew from experience to be Captain Americas chest.

Tired eyes opened for a second, glimpsing the worried faces above him. Steve's frown, Tony's concerned and wide eyes as he hovered.

Voices drifted as he did, soft, panicked, hurried. "Lay him down here, Tony get an IV bag."

"He's barely conscious."

"He's too warm!"

"It's actually not that high for him. I don't think this is caused by an elevated temperature. I'm going to get him stable and take another MRI."

Peter blinked again, feeling Steve's chest disappear, as he sank into a mattress, body limp as he was lowered down onto the bed.

Steve spoke softly to him as Tony yelled, his arms waving at the edge of Peters wavering vision.

"You'll be okay, we're right here, Peter. Take my hand, just keep holding onto me, okay?"

The Captain picked up his hand, broad palm pressing to Peter's warm one, and the teenager managed to curl his fingers around it before closing his eyes again.

"We need to do something!"

Bruce was losing his patience, voice raising just a little, just enough to make Tony close his mouth. "I'm doing everything that I can, right now I need you to get an IV bag, so Peter can get enough fluids. Do it."

It would have been harsh, if it had not been what Tony needed to focus on heling rather than blindly panicking.

Peter clung to consciousness, only to that he could keep listening to the voices swirling around him, and he panted, as Steve's hand brushed through his hair. He was quieter than the others, and his voice was calming.

"Peter? Can you talk to me? Just say something."

The teenager dragged his eyes open, vision blurred, roving over the Captains face above him. It was hard to make his mouth move, to formulate words, but he did his best, voice cracking with a whimper.

"…mm…scared."

Steve's face creased, his heart aching for the kid, as tears slipped down Peter's temples. He wiped them away with a curled finger.

"I know. But you'll be okay."

Peter's head pounded with another flare of pain, making him sob as he turned his head away from the lights above, and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Want Tony."

The words were small, but Steve heard them regardless, nodding and moving away to fetch the other man. But when he went to pull away, Peter squeezed his hand and pulled him back, not wanting to be left alone, and Steve realized that the kid hadn't been saying he didn't want Cap; he wanted Tony and Cap.

Steve nodded down at the terrified face below him, and squeezed Peters hand back, turning just enough to see where Tony was handing things to Bruce.

"Tony, he's asking for you."

The man's eyes were huge as he raced over, immediately grabbing onto Peters other, outstretched hand, and squeezing it tight.

"Hey, I'm here. I got you, buddy; everything's going to be okay."

The teenager seemed to calm down, with both of them there, and his eyes began to droop again. The faces above him blurred, as his breaths became shallow, and slow.

Tony started talking again, louder, and Peter thought it may have been his name that was being said over and over, and something about staying awake; but he was just so tired, and sore, that he couldn't stay any longer, and he sank into sleep.

It was nicer, in the dark, it didn't hurt quite as much, and it was less scary; but he didn't get to stay for long. Bits and pieces of the outside world, invaded his sleep. Things like pricks in his arm, and hands in his hair, voices, and his shirt being tugged off.

It wasn't until he felt himself being moved, and then felt the pain, that he decided to open his eyes.

Tony held Peters hand tight, and tried to keep calm as Bruce pulled a table of scary looking tools up the bed.

"Roll him onto his side and pull his legs up to his chest, it'll let me get better access to his spine.

Tony didn't move for a moment, just looked down at the way Peter was frowning even in sleep, and let his mind fill with guilty voices.

How could he have let this happen? Why hadn't he protected him? Snatched on his way home from school; what a preventable tragedy.

"Tony." Steve's voice was gentle, as always, and Tony blinked rapidly, to chase away the tears before they could fully form.

Bruce was sympathetic, as he looked at his friend. "I know it's scary, but a spinal tap is the best way for me to find out if this is meningitis, or a combination of something. I've been trying to make a cure for this, and sending it to the other patients, but it hasn't been as effective as I'd like, and I need more information. It's not as painful as you'd think, and I'll go as quick as I can."

Tony nodded, knowing it had to be done but still hating it anyway.

Peter moaned as he was moved, even as gentle as he and Steve were being, they couldn't stop the ache that radiated when they pulled Peter onto his side in the bed.

Bruce snapped his gloves on and began his work on the teenagers back. "I'll numb the area first, so he isn't in too much pain, but he will feel it. So, I need you to hold him still and keep him calm."

Steve remained quiet, as he gently bracketed Peter so that he wouldn't move, should he wake. While Tony placed a hand behind the kid's head, and took hold of his hand, pressing it to his own chest, so that Peter could feel the thumping of his heart.

The moment Bruce began injecting the local anaesthetic, Peters eyes fluttered open, confused and dazed.

Tony's hand squeezed his. "Hey buddy. Just hold still, it'll be over soon."

Bruce frowned in concentration, as he carefully numbed the area where he'd be extracting the fluid, and winced as Peter tensed, whimpering.

"What are you doing?"

He sounded so small, and Steve clenched his jaw, hardly able to see the growing panic on the youngest team members face.

Tony answered, voice tight as emotion threatened to strangle every word. "Bruce is just doing a spinal tap, but you don't have to be scared, we're all right here with you. Just hold my hand and stay really still."

Peters glassy eyes opened wider, as he began to squirm under Steve's hold, weak and uncoordinated.

"No. No, please don't."

Bruce rubbed a gentle hand over Peter's shoulder blades, as he pulled out the largest needle, preparing to use it before the anaesthetic wore off.

Tony almost couldn't watch, feeling sick as Peter continued to let out mumbled pleas.

"No, I don't want it. Tony, make it stop."

Bruce went as carefully as he could, but Peter still stiffened as he felt the needle enter his back, and he let out a cry of panic, and squeezed Tony's hand.

Tears fell down his flushed face, and Tony couldn't get a word out. Steve rubbed his thumb comfortingly over Peters knee where he held it still, and tried not to sound as scared as he felt.

"You're okay, it's almost over."

Of course, that wasn't completely true. The procedure would take a minimum of twenty minutes, but he just wanted to give the kid any shred of comfort that he could.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried again to make them understand. "Steve, I don't like this. I'm scared, help me."

The soldiers throat closed with emption, too much to speak through, and it took him a minute to formulate an answer. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but we are. We're doing everything we can to help. I promise."

Peter tried to pull from his hold again, and whimpered when he wouldn't budge. He was in pain, and scared, and didn't fully understand what was happening.

Bruce was moving as fast as he could, while still being careful, and his smooth, calm, voice was reassuring to everyone in the room. "You're doing really great, Pete. There's just a little more to go and you'll be all done. Just stay still for a little longer."

Tony couldn't get any words out at all, and he simply watched Peter cry, while he tried not to do the same. He ran his free hand through Peters hair, and hoped the experience would end soon. He just wanted him to be okay again.

When it finally did end, Bruce bandaged Peters back, and lay him flat on the bed; giving him a mild sedative to help him relax, before going off to test the fluid he'd extracted, Steve going with him.

Tony took a seat next to the bed, still holding the kids hand, and fingers running through his sweat damp hair. Peter's fever was steadily rising, and his cheeks were flushed.

The sedative was handling most of the pain, and Tony was glad that Peter could get some relief from it, if only for a short while.

It was a hard sight to see; Peter had been fine just that morning, but there he was, looking half dead already.

His voice was thin and weak, making him sound younger than he was. "What's happening to me?"

Tony did his best to clamp down on his emotions, knowing he needed to put on a brave face. "I don't know, but we'll fix it. Bruce is working on a cure, using samples he got from the other patients, that were exposed to the same thing."

Peter fingers curled weakly in Tony's palm. "They died."

Tony knew where his thoughts were headed. "…Some did. But that's not going to happen to you, you're going to be fine."

Peters bright eyes seemed to look right through to Tony's soul, and he could tell the kid wanted to say something more, something he didn't want to hear or talk about. He could almost see the words taking form in the shape of Peter's lips.

'What if you're wrong?'

But then he blinked, and tugged Tony's hand a little closer, mumbling something else instead. "Will you stay with me?"

Tony nodded, willing to promise anything those eyes asked him for. "Of course, I'm not going anywhere, buddy."

Peter nodded, tiny enough that it didn't hurt his head too much, before he closed his eyes. "I'm tired."

Tony used his free hand to pull the blankets up a little higher on the teenager's bare chest. "You can sleep, I'll be here."

….

Steve crossed his arms and paced behind Bruce, as the scientist continued working.

"Do you know how to cure him?"

A sigh. "I don't know."

Steve's steps faltered, as he studied the other man's tense back. "What do you mean? I thought you'd made something for the other victims?"

Bruce turned around, forehead creased in worry, and he pushed his glasses up his nose, in what Steve knew to be a nervous tick. "I did, and it seemed like it was working, but they weren't strong enough."

Steve felt very sick all of a sudden. His voice was quiet. "What are you saying?"

"It worked too slow, and most of them were haemorrhaging by the time it was given to them. They were losing blood, and their bodies were essentially self-destructing. They weren't strong enough to fight the virus, even with the cure. It was too late."

Steve was pale, and he swallowed his nausea at the thought of all those kids he'd seen when he rescued Peter, dying.

"How many are left?"

Bruce didn't want to answer that one. He turned back to his work, shoulders pulled up to his neck with anxiety.

Steve tried again, grabbing Bruce's shoulder to make him face him. "How many are left, Bruce."

The answer was small, and defeated. "Two."

"Jesus." They had lost so many in such short time. And Peter could be next.

Bruce worked as hard as he could, synthesising a possible cure, and combining it with the new information he got from Peter's spinal tap. He had a better idea of what exact strain of virus he was working with, and how it progressed, and he hadn't prayed since he was a child, he prayed fervently that it would work.

He felt the weight of the three remaining children's lives in his hands, as he sent the new cure over to the hospital to be used on the two other kids still clinging to life.

If he just had more time, more knowledge, he could save them all, but he was running out of options and he didn't know how to tell Tony that he may not be able to save the one boy that was so much like a son to each of them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a panicked shout, and the sound of harsh coughing, and he quickly sprinted back into the med bay to see what was happening.

Tony was losing it, and Bruce could hear his shouts before he even made it into the room.

"Bruce! Help!"

He ran into the room, seeing Peter coughing violently, and ran over to haul him up into a sitting position before he could choke. As soon as the kid was sitting up, Bruce's arms behind his back to keep him from falling, blood began pouring from his mouth as he coughed it up.

The bright red ran down his chin and dripped onto the blanket across his lap, and Steve quickly provided a cloth to clean him up with.

Tony was watching in shock, but Bruce couldn't help the words that tumbled from his mouth. "No, no, no. This can't be happening now, I need more time."

Tony's face snapped up to his, as Steve held Peters chin in his hand, and wiped up the blood, as the teenager panted between coughs.

"What's happening? Where's the cure?" Tony's tone was harsh, and panicked, as he replaced Bruce's hands with his own, on Peters back to hold him up as the scientist started grabbing things from shelves.

Bruce grabbed a blood bag, and some more supplies, dropping them all on the bed when his phone chimed. "The haemorrhaging is starting, and there's nothing we can do to stop it unless the- "

Peter was barely conscious, hanging limply in Tony and Steve's hold, and Bruce cursed as he looked at his phone. "Fuck. No. No!"

Steve looked up at the man as Peter flinched slightly at the noise. "What?"

Bruce rubbed his fingers over his eyes, throwing down his phone on the end of the bed. He looked as if he was going to fall over any second, and his voice was so quiet they almost didn't hear it.

"We lost them."

Tony almost didn't want to ask. "What are you talking about?"

Bruce's eyes were damp, as tears threatened to spill over. "The other kids, they were given the cure…but it didn't work. They just died."

Tony sucked in a breath, and shifted onto the bed, allowing Peter to fall against his chest. He held him close, as his world fell apart. "No."

Steve was less eager to give up. "Did the cure not work?"

Bruce's voice was shaky. He had done everything that he could, and it hadn't been enough. "It might have if they'd been strong enough, but once the bleeding starts, they're usually too weak for it to work. Peter's stronger than others, I thought he'd be able to, but now he's…"

Steve looked down at Peter's closed eyes, just as the kid began coughing again, more blood spilling from his lips. "He'll die if you don't try. Give it to him."

Bruce hesitated, but Tony had tears rolling down his face, voice breaking. "Please, Bruce."

There wasn't anything else to do. Peter would die if they didn't, and although it was a tiny chance that it would save him, it was a chance nonetheless. Bruce hooked up a blood bag and more fluids, to replace what Peter was losing, before injecting the cure into the line.

Tony cradled Peter against him, and looked down at the kid's pale face. "Stay with us, just hang on. Please, Peter, don't give up."

The teenager's eyes remained closed, and strained pants escaped his blood-stained mouth, but he heard the words, and did his best to do as he was asked.

It took a full day to see any improvement, but the coughing stopped, and the fever didn't rise any higher, and Peter clung to life.

Tony, Steve, and Bruce, stayed by his side at all times, unwilling to leave for a moment, but when Peter woke, it was only Tony that was with him.

They knew he was going to make it after the first day, but it took another twenty-four hours for him to wake.

Tired eyes opened to a white ceiling, oxygen tickling his nose from the cannula laced under it. He blinked a couple of times, trying to work out where he was, and remember what had happened, when a voice met his ears.

"Peter?"

The teenager turned to see Tony's hopeful face, and the smile that spread over it when he met his gaze.

"Hey, buddy! It's so good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

Peter wasn't sure how to answer, looking down at the tubes in his arms, and feeling the pull of exhaustion all over. Suddenly, everything came back to him, and he couldn't hold back the tears that spilled forward.

He had almost died. He reached for the Avenger.

"Tony."

The mechanic sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Peter to his chest in a hug. "Oh, Pete."

The teenager shook against him, voice cracked and warped with emotion. "Did the other kids die?"

Tony nodded, not knowing what to say. And Peter let out a sob. "I couldn't help them. I couldn't save anyone."

Tony rocked the kid a little in his arms, not willing to let him blame himself. "No, Peter, this wasn't on you. There wasn't anything you could have done. They didn't take Spider-Man, they took Peter Parker, they took a kid, and tried to kill him. It's not your fault. You survived, that's all anyone could have asked."

Peter didn't see not dying as much of a victory, but he sniffed and wiped his eyes as Tony kept talking. "The people that did it, are locked away, and they won't be able to use the virus on anyone else. They would have gotten it finished, and probably would have sold it to someone who could kill millions with it, if you hadn't been wearing your tracker that lead us to them. You stopped them, you saved everyone. I'm so sorry that this happened to you, I'm so sorry that I didn't protect you, but everything's okay now."

Peter was exhausted, not yet fully recovered enough to have all his strength back, and he leaned into Tony's hold.

"Thanks for keeping your promise."

Tony knew what he was talking about. "I'll always be here when you need me. Always. I won't ever leave you, Pete."

Peter closed his eyes, finally feeling like he might he okay. "I know."