"Why are you helping us now? You're the one that got him into this mess." Steve didn't trust Agent Ross and would have prefered not to talk to him at all, but he was offering them help to get Peter back, and Tony was too angry to do the talking.

"I was just following orders. You know how that feels Captain. Carrying out orders only to realise later who the person was giving them? I didn't want him to get hurt."

Tony paced the length of the table, where Steve and Ross sat. He hadn't wanted to let him in initially, into the place where he had arrested Peter in the first place. But they had been searching for weeks and found no sign of the teenager.

He ran a hand through his hair, not looking at the agent as he spoke. "If we did trust you enough to let you help, what would the plan be?"

"I already know where they are keeping him, but if we let them know that, they'll move him. So, we need to infiltrate it before doing anything else."

Tony nodded, still pacing. "Action before politics. Good. There are a few of those bastards I'd really like to teach a lesson."

Steve ignored him. "What's the next step."

Agent Ross looked between the two of them. "Once we get him out and somewhere safe, they'll want to come after him but we have some leverage that might be able to convince them to leave him with us."

Tony turned back to the table, interested. He pressed his palms to the smooth wood, leaning in. "What leverage?"

Ross smiled. "Well, I think the public would be pretty upset to hear that the government they trusted, would kidnap and torture their beloved Spider-Man. He's a hero in this city. One of their own. But maybe if they leave us alone, we just keep that little juicy bit of info for ourselves."

Steve looked at Tony, eyebrows raised. It was a good plan. "The public would riot if they knew. It would be the headline of every newspaper, and be on every TV."

Tony nodded, finally hopeful for the first time since they lost Peter.

"Let's go get our boy back."

…

Peter grunted in pain, trying to find a comfortable position in his chilled cell but his hip still ached horribly from the day before and the cold wasn't helping.

He shivered and curled tighter to himself, trying to sleep.

His mind wandered, pulling up a memory he liked to calm him enough to draw sleep closer.

May taking care of him when he was sick. Her hand running through his hair as she sang to him, voice soft and sweet. He missed her so much. He hoped she wasn't worried about him.

He held onto the memory of her and was about to finally drift off...when something exploded.

Peter jumped in fright and scrambled to the back of his cell as guards shouted out orders.

Another explosion rocked the walls as a reinforced door blew inwards. Peter covered his ears, watching as a small black canister rolled through the new hole in the wall.

Peter had seen it before and curled against the wall, closing his eyes before it could go off. It was a stun grenade.

He heard it explode, the huge bangs and flashes of light doing its job and scrambling the guards and other agents.

The teenager shook all over, back pressed against the back of his cell. He didn't know what was happening and was too scared to look, keeping his head down and staying quiet just as he'd been conditioned to do.

He could hear the pounding footsteps of people entering the labs, the crash of tables and equipment being thrown, people screaming, and the popping sound of gunfire.

With his eyes closed, he had no idea what was happening, so when the door of his cell opened, he simply pressed himself closer to the wall.

His chest heaved as he hyperventilated, and he bit down a scream as heavy boots pounded the ground towards him.

Gunfire sounded just a few feet away, before huge arms swept him up, pressing him to a strong chest.

Peter clenched his jaw shut, keeping his eyes closed as his whole body tensed but a few whimpers managed to slip through at the pressure on his injuries. His heart rate spiked, fearing he'd be shocked for making a noise he was not asked for, but no pain came and instead, he was pulled from his cell and carried away.

Peter didn't know who was carrying him but they moved fast, winding through the bullets as they flew and the smoke that threatened to choke him.

The sound of the footsteps from the person carrying him changed. No longer a heavy thumping on the floor but a hollow thunk as if on metal and he felt himself being lifted into a smaller space.

It was quieter where they were now but not by much and Peter flinched at another round of screams. He recognized the loudest voice as Agent Tallis. She screamed something about doing what was necessary for the sake of science before her voice was cut off with a bang.

The arms unwound themselves from Peter, setting him down on something hard and he immediately scrambled backwards until he felt cold metal at his back. He curled into himself, head low, terrified.

Until he heard a voice he knew and a name he hadn't heard in too long. "Peter, it's okay."

Hope shot through the teenager's heart like a knife, painfully sharp, and he finally opened his eyes. His voice was shaky and weak from disuse but he managed to get a single word out.

"Steve?"

He lifted his head about to take his first look at his saviour when he began to burn.

Electricity arced through him as the collar around his neck activated and his chest seized, unable to pull in any air as he shook on the ground.

Steve's blurry face appeared above him, calling his name in worry before the pain ended with the sound of a gunshot.

Peter sucked in as much air as he could into his aching chest, as Steve called out.

"Thanks, Buck. Tony! Get the remote and let's go!"

Peter groaned, exhausted as he usually was after a shock, but he didn't close his eyes until he saw who he was waiting for.

His voice came closer, worried and rushed. "Did you get him? Is he okay? Peter!"

The ceiling of the quinjet spun and blurred as Peters heavy eyes blinked, lazy and slow. But finally, there they were, Tony and Steve leaning over him, expressions a mixture of grief, concern, and overwhelming relief.

Tony's voice was soft, trembling at the edges. "We got you, Peter. Everything's going to be okay, now."

Peter let out a sigh and hoped it wasn't all a dream before his eyes closed and he slept.

…

Tony tried not to look at Peter too closely as he worked on getting the shock collar off. He'd disabled it so that it wouldn't shock him while he got it off but it was purposely made to be hard to remove and it was taking longer than he'd hoped.

He frowned in concentration as he finally got the lock open. "Got it."

Bruce leaned over, as he carefully pulled the collar came away to reveal the burns wrapped around Peters' throat, raw and bleeding.

Tony let out a curse as he threw the wretched device away and stepped back from the bed.

Bruce immediately began cleaning and treating the wounds, his voice soft. "I'll take care of him. You can wait with the others. I don't want too many stimuli for him at the moment, even as sedated as he is."

Tony was reluctant but did as he was told, gently squeezing Peters fingers with his before leaving.

He didn't go far, just outside of the room where the others were waiting behind a two-way mirror.

"He'll be okay, Tony. It might take time but-"

Tony wasn't really in the mood for one of Steve's speeches. "A month. Almost five weeks, Steve. That's how long he was in there. Alone, and scared. I promised to protect him and I failed."

Bucky sighed. "We got him back."

Tony shook his head rubbing a hand down his face. He was so tired. "Not soon enough."

No one could dispute that and so they sat in silence as they watched Bruce work.

It was hard, seeing the usually bright teenager look so...ruined. His hair was lank and face pale, with bruises staining his wrists from too many shackles and restraints, pulled too tight.

His arms lay limp on the blanket, track marks marring the soft skin on the inside of his elbow from the repeated blood draws.

Tony had to look away when Bruce peeled back the bandage on Peters' palm, revealing the slowly healing skin where the top layers had been cut away, before finding the same had been done to his foot.

Then there were the scars on his back where he'd been cut just to see how long it would take for it to heal.

Bruce had been doing his best at remaining stoic and professional during his ministrations but when he carefully turned Peter on his side he began to unravel.

"Shit."

He carefully pulled back the bandage on Peters' hip and let out another curse as he saw the wound.

He stepped back, fingers curling into fists, and Steve could see a tint of green crawling up his neck.

The first avenger quickly pressed the com button beside the window. "Bruce? You need to keep your cool. What's wrong?"

Bruce took some deep breaths, his voice low and close to a growl as he tried to explain.

"They took a piece of his bone and some of the fluid and cells from inside but they weren't careful enough to do a decent job of it. They didn't even care! He's been bleeding underneath the bandage and its all bruised...it could have gotten infected."

Tony watched him even out his breaths until the green began to recede, his voice coming back to normal.

"He'll be okay. I just have to clean it, but it will hurt for a while."

Steve stepped back and Tony pressed the com button again. "I met the woman that did most of the...experiments on Peter, during the raid. She promised me that they used anaesthetics." He grit his teeth, remembering the look on that monster's face.

"She said it was...humane."

Bruce clenched his fist again. "Did you make her pay for it?"

Tony nodded, smiling, and though Bruce couldn't see his face through the glass he could hear it in his voice. "She went for a scalpel. Nat put her down before she could use it."

Natasha smiled from the back of the room, voice pleased. "I'm just glad she gave me just cause. I was going to shoot her anyway but this way Steve can't be mad at me for it."

Steve shook his head. "I think you've forgotten where I found Bucky back during the war, and what I did to the scientists that had him."

Bucky leant over to Nat as he whispered. "I don't remember much from back then but I'm pretty sure he set fire to a couple and blew some others up. You should have seen what he did to the Nazis."

Steve's voice was chiding. "Buck."

Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know but he asked anyway. "Bruce, is any of it...is it going to scar?"

Bruce was applying the last bandage and carefully pulled Peters blanket up to his chest, before adjusting one of the IV's.

"Tony…" He sounded so defeated. "The collar was used so often that the wounds weren't given time to heal before being reopened. Because of his abilities, they won't be so bad but...they'll scar. We can only hope they fade with time."

Tony let out a shaky breath and stepped back from the glass, unable to look anymore.

"I'm so sorry, Peter."

…

Bruce hadn't wanted Peter to wake up in the med bay after being in a lab for weeks so, he transferred him to his own room and had everyone leave so that Peter could wake up without being overwhelmed.

The teenager felt groggy as he dragged his eyes open but he didn't see the cold ceiling that he was used to.

But he did remember it. It was...his. He was back in his own room at Stark tower, in his own bed. He'd stayed there every second weekend to train with Tony and the Avengers.

Peter slowly sat up, wincing as the movement tugged at his wounds.

All his things were just as he'd left them the day he'd been arrested. His homework was half finished, notes from Ned laid atop his books. His favourite blue sweater draped across the back of his chair.

Peter looked down at himself, lifting a hand to find his collar gone, pristine bandages in its place. And instead of his prison uniform, he had his old hoodie and sweats on. He wasn't a prisoner anymore. He was finally safe.

Peter slipped his legs from his bed, wincing as his sore foot touched the floor. It hurt to move and his hip ached but he kept going, tugging his hoodie closer around him.

He moved through his room, trailing his fingers over the things that he had left behind.

He stopped at a picture he had sitting on his desk. It was of him with Aunt May and Ned, all smiling and together. He hadn't seen them in so long. What did they think happened to him?

The door opened quietly behind him and he turned, quickly wiping a hand over his cheek where a tear had escaped to, keeping his head low on instinct.

It was quiet for a moment before hesitant words drifted through the quiet.

"Peter? ...Your hairs longer...I missed you." Peter knew the voice belonged to Tony, but he'd never heard him sound so nervous before.

He touched his good hand to his hair, self consciously, and remained silent.

Tony stepped closer, stomach dropping when Peter stumbled back, away from him. He wasn't sure what was wrong. He thought he'd be happy to see him, maybe give him a hug, but he wasn't acting like himself at all.

Tony stepped back, hands raised as he gave the kid some space. Peter looked so scared.

He kept his voice low. "Peter? Why won't you look at me?"

The teenager lifted his face, just enough for Tony to see the tears slowly making their way down his pale face.

His voice was small and raspy, missing it's usual sweet tone. "Th-they had rules when I was there. I wasn't allowed to look at anybody and I wasn't allowed to talk. If I didn't follow the rules they would…"

He gestured to his neck, and Tony let out a sigh. It was getting really hard to keep his cool.

"You're safe now. I promise."

Tony tried a step forward, hands up, moving slowly as Peter watched him with wide eyes.

"Do you trust me?"

Peter hesitated and although it broke Tony's heart, it wasn't because the answer was no. It was because he hadn't felt anything but needles and harsh hands for so long. He had almost forgotten what it felt like for someone to care.

He raised his head a little more, finally nodding and allowing Tony to come closer.

It was the same touch that he remembered, those callused hands so gentle and warm on his arm. Tony had never been an overly cuddly person but his hand had always found Peters shoulder when he was down and it never failed to make him feel better.

Peters dam broke at his touch and he fell towards Tony as he finally let go, sobs shaking his thin frame.

Tony caught him, pulling him to his chest and holding him there as they sank to the ground. He felt his own eyes grow wet, his voice wavering.

"I got you, Pete. You're home."

…..

No one expected Peter to get better all at once but it was so hard to see him struggle with such simple things. His instincts told him to keep his head down and his mouth shut and it took awhile for him to be brave enough to do otherwise.

The Avengers all helped, of course, and he started to heal, slowly finding himself again.

There were things they all had to get used to and learn to help with. Because of his time spent in Raft Prison, he didn't like the cold or the lights too bright.

So, Tony adjusted the settings in the building and Sam filled his iPod with music, to stop the claustrophobia and loneliness that came with silence.

Getting Peter to talk took patience and direct questions. He used to talk so often, always excited and eager to please but since being rescued he only spoke when asked. It was unnerving to have him so quiet all the time, but he was improving in his own small ways.

"Peter? What do you think?" Bucky looked down at him, waiting for those wide eyes to find his.

The kid hesitated, building up the courage to talk. "Um...I like it. I like the blue one."

Steve gave him an encouraging smile, nodding as he pulled the shirt from the pile and handed it over.

Peter held it to his chest, other hand clutched in Bucky's.

"Tony bought a lot of stuff, so just choose whatever you want, kid."

They had been trying to give him back a sense of control which meant choosing his own clothes, his own food, and having a say in what happened to him.

Bucky, especially knew how something as simple as choosing your own shirt could make you feel safe.

The other thing that had changed was Peter's constant need for touch and company. He had been so cold and alone in his cell, that he could no longer stand to be by himself and the Avengers simply got used to making sure someone was always with him.

Touch became integral in making Peter feel safe. May liked to brush his hair back with her fingers, and Ned would wind his arm around his best friends shoulder. Peter would hold various Avengers hands, as he went about his day and even at night he needed the reassuring touch of someone that loved him, in order to sleep.

It had happened the first night when Peter had gone to sleep in his own room. As soon as he was alone, he curled into himself in his bed, trying to remember how to breathe. Without the lights on it was easy for his mind to trick him into thinking he was back there, on his own and at Agent Tallis' mercy.

Memories came to him, too fast to push away and suddenly he couldn't remember where he was. He shivered at the cold his mind conjured up and his lips moved without his consent.

"Prisoner S Two Seven. Place your hands on the bars. Don't move or I'll make you regret it."

His breaths came too fast, whistling past his teeth as he whimpered, trying to make the monsters go away.

Steve heard it from his own room and immediately ran to the youngest Avenger, making it to his side within seconds.

His heart broke seeing Peter so terrified, arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked, trying to get just one decent breath in.

He was mumbling, voice cracked and warped by his tears as he sobbed, and Steve strained to hear.

"Prisoner S Two Seven. Keep your eyes on the floor, and your mouth shut."

He sobbed again, voice so small it was barely anything more than a whisper. "Please stop, it hurts."

Steve didn't know if the kid was awake or dreaming but he couldn't let it continue. He moved carefully forward, not wanting to scare him further, and kept his voice low.

"Peter? I'm here, open your eyes."

The teenager jumped at his voice, eyes flashing open as he scrambled back on his bed.

His voice was so thin in the dark room. "Th-they don't say my name. They never say it. Just S Two Seven, just over and over and I can't-"

Steve had never seen him so scared before and he suddenly found it hard to speak through the lump in his throat.

"That's not your name. Your name is Peter. You matter. You're important, Peter. And I promise you aren't there anymore."

Steve held his hands out in offering and it seemed to snap Peter out of whatever flashback loop he'd been stuck in. Steve watched as the terrified look in Peters' eyes melted into a relief so overwhelming it shook his breath from his lungs.

Peter moved so fast that Steve almost flinched as he dived forward into the first Avengers chest, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his face to Steves' neck.

Cap pulled his own arms around the kid, holding him close as Peter cried into his shoulder.

"Steve! You came! Are you here to take me home? Please, don't leave me here."

Steve closed his eyes. He still thought he was trapped. He was still stuck in his own mind.

The poor boy was shaking so badly Steve never wanted to let go. "I got you, kid. You aren't there. You're safe and I'm never going to let them hurt you again."

The door opened again and Tony ran through, coming over to the bed. "Friday said something was wrong with Peter. What happened?"

Peter only let go of Cap enough to stretch an arm out. "Tony!"

Steve looked over to him, sympathetic, his eyes wet. "I found him having a flashback. Tony, he won't stop shaking."

Peter let out another whimper and suddenly Tony was across the room. Peter gripped his shirt as Tony rubbed a hand over the teenagers back.

"You're okay, buddy. We've got you now. You'll be okay."

He turned to the first avenger. "We can't leave him in here by himself."

Steve agreed, voice firm. "I'm not letting go of him." He shifted his hold on the kid, picking him up and standing from the bed.

Tony followed, Peters hand still wound tightly in his shirt as Steve brought the teenager back to his own room.

Peter calmed a little with the new scenery and his crying quietened as Steve got into bed.

Peter relaxed a little more as Tony followed suit, pulling the blanket over them all.

Steve held him to his chest, Peters ear resting over his thumping heart and his breaths finally calmed to the comforting rhythm.

He fell asleep holding on to his heroes and that's where he stayed till morning.

From then on he had someone with him at night to help chase the bad memories away.

It got easier with time, and with Sam's help, he was able to talk through what happened.

He had his lapses, those times when he slipped into old habits or forgot where he was. But he was surrounded by people that loved him and they all helped whenever they could.

"Hey, look at me." Ned would offer him a smile and Peter remembered he didn't have to lower his head anymore.

Or Bucky would pull him away from a mirror, hushing his questions when he forgot where the scars around his throat came from.

He found it hard to speak at first, even for short amounts of time, and some days he refused to speak at all, even when directly asked.

But he made progress too. Like the morning that Steve woke up to find Peter gone from the bed. He had worried, rushing to where Friday said he'd gone but when he got there he found Peter safe and sound.

"Hey, kiddo. What are you up to?"

He answered around a lazy yawn. "I just needed some water."

Steve let out a breath. "Oh."

He had wanted to say "All on your own?" But had kept it in, not wanting to make a big deal out of it and ruin it.

But when Peter began speaking without having to be prompted he couldn't hold it back.

They had been in the kitchen, everyone together eating breakfast when suddenly he spoke, without even thinking.

"Hey, Mr Stark? Can we go to the library today? I want to see if they have that new book I asked abo-"

He hadn't been able to finish his sentence before a pair of arms came around him, but instead of flinching, he just laughed.

"What are you doing?"

Steve couldn't stop smiling. "Peter, you spoke! You didn't even need anyone to help you!"

Steve let him go only for Tony to come forward and ruffle his hair. "I'm so proud of you, kid."

Peter seemed to realise what he had done, looking around the room with that bright smile of his. "I-I did?"

May leant across the table, placing her warm hands on his cheeks, her eyes misted over.

"You did. You're getting better, baby. I knew you could do it."

Peter let himself be pulled into her arms for a hug and he closed his eyes as he squeezed her back. "Thanks, May. I love you."

"I love you too, Peter."

And there, with his heroes around him and in his Aunts arms once more, he knew that nothing would ever hurt him again.