TW: PANIC ATTACK

Unknown: Lets try this one more time

Peter feels the hairs on his neck raise, raw, unfathomable terror freezing the blood in his veins. His heart rate had just begun to elevate at the sight of the label 'Unknown' popping up on his phone, but now, it had skyrocketed. For weeks he'd tried to find Dagger but now, now he had a chance to end it.

His chest burns with desperation, with- with something. Maybe fear. But he didn't have room for fear. He needs to avenge May- he needs too.

He takes a sharp inhale through his nose and is immediately hit with a piercing pain blooming throughout his chest. It burns as he breathes in the cold November air.

Tessa's nose presses against his cheek. Shes a food dog. He appreciates her efforts to ground him but he doesn't react.

He can't do this- not now. Not while Pepper's asleep. He shouldn't disturb them.

He takes another breath and holds it there, squeezing his eyes shut. Blowing it out, he glares at the frosted window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That stupid fucking cigarette is hanging from Dagger's lips when Peter gets there.

He's injured from last time- bruises splotched along his face, along with a swollen jaw and black eye.

Despite it, he smiles.

It easily fills Peter with rage. He can feel it- the heat rising from his chest to the tips of his ears.

He wants him dead.

He ruined everything. He- he-

He runs forward, arm pulled back. Dagger catches his first punch and is caught off guard by the next as it collides with his cheek with a loud crack.

The cigarette falls to the ground and gets squashed under a boot. The strong smell rises up to Peter's nose- burns his lungs.

Peter had the upper hand in the beginning. He's doing great. He's winning.

But then, there's a loud crackling and something makes contact with his side. He'd never felt a sensation like this before.

Getting tased may not have been like getting shot or stabbed but nonetheless, it was more than overwhelming. He wasn't able to scream, just managing a long, pained groan as he felt like every cell in his body was melting.

He hadn't even noticed his head making contact with the cold hard ground.

He's dazed for a few moments before he the smile grow wider across Daggers face.

Peter remains still- waits until he's close enough.

He holds his breath just a few more seconds-

He shoots a web from his wrist and connects it with his face. The man angrily shouts in alarm, making a fruitless effort to rip it off his face.

Peter takes the few seconds to recover and leap up to his feet. He'd finally come to when Lucas had managed peel the sticky webbing off his face.

"Parker," he growls, "I'm done playing."

Peter's jaw drops, both tears gathering in his eyes and blood boiling. At this point, it feels unhealthy how often he feels like he could explode with emotions.

"This," he begins, choking on his words, "This was never a game!"

Everything that Tony and the avengers had made an effort to teach him was thrown out the window.

Every training lesson. Every lecture.

He blanked. (Again.)

Tony would kill him if he were here.

He only feels the movement of his swinging fists, barely dodging the ones thrown back at him.

He starts shooting webs blindly, just hoping some would attach and hold the man still. His nonstrategic efforts remain understandably futile.

He's starts to loose any upper hand he had going for him. He leapt, and latched onto the side of the building. He shoots two more webs out and this time, Dagger sees it coming. The two large gauntlets grab onto them, snapping the chemically structured threads apart. Peter finds satisfaction in his enraged expression.

There's a sudden, blinding light next. It encases him and rips him off his spot despite the sticky grip he had holding him on.

"Wha- woah- hey!"

He thinks mournfully about how he used to think the gravity gun was cool.

He looks over at Dagger in fear and finds he's being brought closer to him at an alarming speed, and in the back of his mind, he finds it reminds him of something right out of his nightmares. Like sleep paralysis, he was unable to move a muscle and his grinning demon was pulling him towards his demise.

They don't break eye contact as it plays out, but then, there's a searing, hot pain in his thigh.

He shouts in pain, squirming in place.

"I took your advice," he says slowly, "I got a knife."

There's blood gushing from his thigh. He can hear the large droplets plinking against the ground, and watches how it quickly creates a growing puddle.

When something else was plunged into the side of his neck, he thinks it's another knife. He could see the gloved hand in his peripheral vision, and his heart speeds up at the thought of his death.

He doesn't want to die.

The gravity gun releases its hold and he plummets, suddenly feeling his energy drain at a rapid pace.

He messily reaches for the object sticking out of his neck, and an empty syringe clatters to the floor.

For a moment, as his eyes make an effort to focus, there's two.

He looks up at the man, doing his best to keep his head still.

"How's it feel," he asks, eager.

Peter tries to grip onto something, hoping it would give him support to get up off the ground, but he notices his fingers aren't latching. He can't stick.

"What'd you," he slurs. "What'd you do... t' me..?"

His muscles feel heavier than anything he's ever managed to lift off himself before.

He can't stick.

The ringing in his ears, the pinch at the back of his neck that usually lingers in fights like these- it's gone too.

'You need to be more alert,' Tony said. He points a finger at Peter, 'No more zoning out in fights.'

'I wasn't- It comes easy to me though. That's why I go out sometimes. I don't really need to think that much, I just web them up.'

'What if they have a gun?'

'I sense it.'

'And what if your senses are messed up?'

'They're not.'

'It wouldn't be the craziest thing to ever happen.
You zone out, they get the advantage.'

"..You... took my powers."

"I did," he replies coldly. "You didn't need 'em. You're no hero."

Why didn't he listen to Tony?

He- he wants to go home.

He wants to go home.

The adrenaline finally kicks in and he scrambles backwards. A path of Blood follows him, smearing along the ground. He aims his webs in Dagger's direction to distract him or to at least do something helpful but he's left with an empty click.

His heart drops.

Terrified and injured, he keeps pushing himself backwards, watching as May's killer walks slowly in his direction. He wonders if the slow pace is meant to scare him or taunt the fact he's currently unable to run away. Either way, both are working.

"Please," he whispers. He doesn't know what he's pleading for. He knows Lucas didn't hear it- hell, he barely heard it himself.

He'll stop this now. He'll let this whole thing go- let Tony and SHIELD do their job- just let him go home!

He frantically feels around his suit, moving his shaking hands to fiddle with his webshooters.

Extra web cartridge, extra web cartridge- His fingernails dig under a small compartment that he rarely remembers to refill and- yes! It's here!

He misses the small slot under his wrists a few times in his panic, unable to still his fingers. When he manages, he hits the back of it with the heel of his palm for good measure and twists around to his knees to make his getaway.

He almost feels better when the web connects to a nearby building, but all hope, along with the color in his face is drained when the blue spotlight encases his body and freezes the functioning ability of his muscles.

No.

He wants to go home to Tony.

How many times does he have to beg for it to come true?

He wants to curl up on the couch and watch movies with him, and Pepper and Tessa forever, because at least then he'd feel ok. They always made everything feel ok.

He tries to hold onto happy thoughts in what could've possibly been his last moments of life.

He- he wants-

"Karen," he croaks, lips barely moving,
"Karen.. call..."

He can feel the drug taking over, and how his eyelids become heavier.

Maybe it was a good thing, because he didn't have to be fully aware of his body being plunged downwards, head smacking against the concrete before it all went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His devices were going crazy.

Sirens were going off, beeping and blaring- lights were flashing.

"Hey- hey! What the hell-"

"Sir," FRIDAY says, more urgent than he'd ever heard her, "It's Peter. Pulling up the injury report now."

Tony's shaking hands pull the hologram closer while he waits for Peter to pick up the call.

Heart rate extremely elevated- so much higher than it usually was during fights.

Injuries not fatal but serious enough.

"Call disconnected."

"Call again," he barks.

Grade 2- Moderate concussion.

Drugs in system.

Unconscious-

Ok that's enough.

He taps his watch and he's already running out the garage before the nano bots have finished encasing his body. He shoots off into the air the moment he sees the dimming sky, pinks and oranges brought out by the setting sun.

"Keep- keep calling. Text him, tell him I'm almost there."

He can't see it, Stark he's fucking knocked out-

The silence when he lands fuels his anxiety, raising the hair on his neck.

Yet, he doesn't pause.

"Pete- kid," he rasps. "Are you.."

He slows upon seeing the damp, empty alleyway.

He takes small steps, metal boots splashing against the small puddles formed in the uneven concrete bricks.

"FRI, are you sure this is the right..."

He pauses.

Blood. There's blood everywhere.

It's as if a bucket of ice is dumped over him, the panic freezing his body in place.

"Certain, sir."

It's new. Puddled along the ground, having been splashed around and smeared in a path by a body dragged towards the exit. He can practically see it happening in his mind and he thinks it's killing him.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he's completely clueless. Does he search until he is physically unable to anymore? Go home and tell the team?

How can he go home without-..

He decides to do both, sending a message for them to pull up all footage of the last hour (an hour? Is that how long it took Tony to realize there was something wrong? stupid-) in this location and around it. While they're doing that, he flies around this city and the next. It didn't take long for him to realize he wasn't going to succeed.

By the time he makes it back to the compound, he's a mess.

Less of a mess than he'd allowed himself to be in the comfort of his suit, where all emotions could take over his composure, but still a mess.

He stumbles inside, feeling as if his lungs were being squeezed by the hulk.

The avengers jump up at his appearance and begin shouting their worried exclamations.
It's understandable. He sent out the text and said there was an emergency, but remained MIA until he looked for Peter himself.

"Pete- he- the kid-"
He makes an effort to inhale but only manages a tight, painful wheeze.
"He's- he's."

"Tony what the hell is going on? You send that-that cryptic message and then leave us without any exclamation for over an hour-!"

"He's gone," he gasps, "we need to- fuck."
He drops clumsily into the seat behind him and hunches over, pulling on the collar of his worn t-shirt.

"Oh my- guys. Give him room." Bruce nudges his friends backwards a few steps. He brings his voice to a lower tone, "Hey- Tony take a breath, c'mon."

"No, I'm," he takes a few panting breaths, doing his best to drag them out, "Just give me-... Peter -he's- Bruce we gotta-"

"Give yourself a second."

Tony does as he's told despite the embarrassment lingering. Though, that's the least of his problems. He's wasting time.

"Bruce," he says slowly, swallowing, "he took Peter."

His face goes slack in understanding, "Nat you got the footage right?"

"Um."

Tony's head shoots up. "What do you mean um-"

"Tony calm- we can't figure this out if we don't approach this as calmly as possible."

"This is as goddamn calm as I'm gonna be, Bruce. Peter's gone," he snaps.

"I understand that but-"

Tony stands, ignoring his friend, "Nat what's going on."

"All cameras in that area are off."

"Those cameras have never been off."

"Well they are now," she snaps, "Im trying to figure out another way. Give me a bit."

He feels like his brain is buzzing.

His fingers twitch.

He can't sit here and do nothing- he can't.

"I need to- Nat."

She looks over at him, eyes softening.

"Look at any other routes of cameras that angle in that direction. We might find something. Bruce you too. Steve and Clint go to SHIELD and see if Fury can help at all- maybe something to hack into the cameras or- or something. Anything. Thor, Wanda and Sam fly around- send out some drones see if you can pick anything up. Buck, go by ground."

Tony finds comfort in keeping his hands busy, keeping his brain working at something that may not keep his mind at peace but at least provide some sort of comfort that he's doing something. Hours of this go by, hacking into cameras and trying to use any tech he's got to fix some of them- maybe save some footage. The majority of any devices he has like that are with SHIELD.

Rhodes shows up upon hearing the news. He tries to lend a hand in any way he can while also trying to talk to Tony- pull him from the deep end.

As the hours go on of Tony practically searching for something to do with himself go find Peter, Nat and Bruce become slower. Tony does too but he wipes the sleep from his eyes, glaring at the bright computer screen. He's moments away from getting himself a coffee but the idea of leaving his position makes him feel worse than the exhaustion.

"Hey guys why dont you hit the hay? It's late. Or... early." He glances at the clock reading 4AM.

His heart speeds as he watches his friends rise from their seats in compliance.

Tony whips his head around, "Rhodes-"

"Tony."

He swallows and looks away. "I can't."

"You cant work them go death. Or yourself- none of you guys will get anything done if you don't get some rest."

He knows this. He knows he just-

"He could be getting hurt. At this very moment he could be de-.."

"...He's not. Peter isn't someone who gives in that easy, you know that. Besides, Steve and Clint are still at SHIELD. You know they've got hidden cameras and shit everywhere. Sam, Thor, Wanda and Bucky are still out too."

He understands that. He would probably agree if he were in the right state of mind but he can't help but feel like they aren't doing enough. Peter should be home now. Out of harms way. The kid doesn't deserve this, he-

Fuck.

Theres a pain in his chest, lingering from the panic attack. In a way, its almost a grounding feeling.
It keeps him awake at the very least.

A hand squeezes his shoulder.

"You're exhausted. Just a few hours, Tony. Please. We're not gonna be able to find him like this. You've done all you can tonight. First thing tomorrow morning, we start again."

His mouth drops in efforts to agree with Rhodey but nothing comes out. His mouth is dry and his fingers tingle with numbness from their hours of unrest.

He stands there, feeling the edge of his brain dissociate.

"Tony," Rhodes mutters quietly, just for him to hear, "Its gonna be ok."

His sympathetic eyes lock onto Tony's bloodshot ones.

He barely notices Natasha step forward and wrap her arms around him.
"We'll find him," she says.

Too drained to flinch away from her efforts to comfort him, he hugs back, shutting his eyes for a moment.

"Yeah," he croaks.

He doesn't know how long he stands there in the kitchen, unable to figure out what to do with himself. 

He wanted to make an effort to appease his friend and get some sleep but for a while, he couldn't move. What finally snaps him out of his trance is Tessa. She licks his fingers gently, and when he glances down at her, she whines.

He has that stupid dog-owner urge to tell her they'll find Peter and she'll have her favorite human back soon but he refrains. He's glad the kid fed her earlier because he thinks he would have forgotten.

He scowls at the empty space ahead of him.

He wouldn't have even been able to take care of Peter's dog while he was gone.

He cant do anything. He hates that Rhodey was right. He's utterly fucking useless right now- there is literally nothing he can do.

He drags a hand along her head, and watches as she nudges his hand with her nose.

He feels so guilty.

He can't let Peter be taken away from her. He can't.

He pats her head and dashes towards his lab to find something- anything he can do.

The more he fails to figure anything out, the more frustrated he gets. Tears brimming his eyes, he swipes through FRIDAYS programming. Swipes through the suit's programming.

Karen has to have something, right? She could be online still-

"Karen," he exclaims, voice cracking. "Karen."

Her programming pops up.

Offline.

"No," he rasps. "Nonono- c'mon-"

The baby protocol pops up.

The recordings!

Shaky hands search for the correct date and click through each timeframe.

He finally sees it.

Peter fighting- loosing to this guy. He watches as the camera from his lenses lower, revealing a large knife completely inserted inside his thigh.

He listens to him shout in pain- groan through gritted teeth.

"I took your advice," a muffled voice says, "I got a knife."

The camera lolls to the side and looks up at the man.

He pauses the footage.

He almost cries with relief at the very much clear image of Dagger.

"FRIDAY," He shouts, shooting up from his seat, "scan- scan this! Put it through everything you've got- compare it to any person living in New York with a record- all social media accounts too."

"Sir, that's-"

"I don't give a shit how illegal this is we're finding the kid."

"...Scanning."

He paces the lab, watching as the AI does a closeup on the man's face and puts it through anything she has access to. A percentage pops up. It increases at a steady pace but to Tony, its as if it moves in slow motion.

He bites his fist, "Please please please."

"Scan unsuccessful."

"Do it again."

She pauses, "Scan still unsuccessful."

"No."

It didn't work.

He let his hope up to easily.

He can't- nothing is working. Peter's alone. Peter could be dead he's gone-

Tony drags his hands up his face, into his hair. He pulls at in frustration and a loud, grief-filled noise escapes his lips.

Why can't he l fix this? He's supposed to fix things he's supposed to-

Creator of hundreds of different technologies, five PhDs, two doctorates and three Masters under his belt, genius, billionaire, ex playboy- creator of self sustaining clean freaking energy, the most he could even think to say was-

"Goddamnit! Fucking-"

He kicked his table over, watching as papers scattered across the floor. It wasn't enough to ease his emotions.

"Fuck!"

He shouted in his frustration. In his guilt and sadness and anger. It was raw- he could feel it scrape against his throat.

He throws things on the floor and kicks the chair across the room.

He hunches over, panting in pain, the feeling in his chest and stomach unbearable.

He's useless. He let this happen he should've-

He stumbles against a wall a slides down, running his hands through his hair and grieving something he isn't sure he's lost.

There's a smooth whoosh at the door and he knows exactly who it is.

"Tony," Pepper whispers.

His red-rimmed eyes meet hers. They're wet with her own tears. He makes an effort to compose himself, scrubbing a hand over his face.

She runs over and slides down next to him, her breath hitching with a sob.

She cradles his jaw and presses kisses against his face, "We'll find him," she cries. "We'll find him."

"I failed him. I- Pep what if he's-"

"He's not," she says. There's not an ounce of hesitation in her tone. He doesn't know how she does it. She's always been stronger than him. Yes, he can fake his confidence but her unfaltering confidence in her words when its truly important never fails to amaze him. "You know Peter better than anyone but we both know he can handle some crazy shit."

He holds her gaze for a few moments. He feels ashamed when he finds himself looking for any doubt in her expression. He needs to- He needs to be sure he'll find Peter or nothing will get accomplished.

Nausea still wearing off, he rests his forehead on her shoulder. Rhodey was right, theres nothing he can do right now- not like this.

For now, they just hold each other tight on the cold ground of Tony's lab. He knows tonight will be a restless sleep, but in the morning, they continue the search.