It's a Spider Thing. {Peter Parker and Natasha Romanoff}

{10} look who got blasted

NEVER IN HIS LIFE, did Peter think there would be a day that he gladly welcomed the sight of the Avengers in full gear, walking towards him as intimidating as ever.

Instinctively, Peter's muscles had tensed before he shoved down the urge to move into a fighting stance, to instantly claim the high ground as the Iron Man suit came ever closer, leading the charge that would lead him to Peter and the unnamed woman.

Their meeting was inevitable. Peter knew he'd be introduced to the infamous superhero team sooner rather than later and that there had been a plan in the making to do just that before they'd run out of time. The whole situation was sudden and disorientating to the point that Peter felt genuinely panicked for the first time in the few months he had left the warehouse. He couldn't help that whenever he was unsure, he fell back on the training he'd been forced to learn to survive at Hydra because it had been the only constant in his life, but it also included the knowledge that the avengers were threats to be eliminated upon sight given the opportunity.

For a moment, he stared at the Iron Man suit, yet again thankful that his facial expressions were hidden from prying eyes.

Peter knew he had been raised to fight and to die in battle and that it would most likely be him against an avenger- no matter how many times Natasha told him he was more than that now. So, it was going against his very nature when he forced his jaw to unclench and his hands to uncurl from the fists they had tightened into. His eyes moved to survey the other avengers heading his way; Natasha, Steve and Thor were advancing on the group of agents who turned to meet the new opponents with raised weaponry. Peter's gaze then drifted to the high rising buildings around them, knowing that Clint was holed up inside somewhere, watching the fight unfold- Peter would be reluctant to admit that the fear building in his chest loosened slightly at the fact that the archer was watching over him.

"Are you kidding me?" The woman ground out.

A small burst of laughter bubbled up in Peter's chest at the sudden exclamation. It was harsh and cold as it tore out of his throat, more like a bark than actual laughter that was tainted with a faint hysteria that would have made Peter look manic in the lamplight if his mask had been off. Peter had been thinking along the same lines as the woman beside him who had yet to move, too busy gawking at the Iron Man suit now soaring towards them. Once the teen had barged past the all-consuming fear that had been thrumming in his veins to see the comedic value of his situation, he almost toppled over but managed to catch himself at the last possible second- he caught the worried eyes of Natasha while she dislocated a man's shoulder with a brutal yet fascinating ease.

The air filling his lungs felt less heavy and the panic that had been relentlessly gnawing at his insides simmered down. He felt partially better knowing the assassin had his back. That he could rely on her to save him again and Clint too wherever he was amongst the buildings.

Finally, Peter's attention moved back to the woman in front of him.

The movement of her hand withdrawing from her pocket where she had kept a 'hidden' handgun made his eyes jump back to her initially. His focus zeroed in on the weapon, his sense skyrocketing at the nearby threat- before the rest of the team could react or intervene, Peter had already webbed the gun away so that it skidded across the ground.

She scowled. "Look who got better toys."

"Look who got blasted." Tony snarked, now within a safe shooting range.

As the repulsor went off, knocking the woman back an array of gunshots rang out through the street, making Peter spin round as his sense once again warned him that he was about to be injured.

Someone was lumbering towards him and Peter's adrenaline kicked in, preparing him for a fist fight that never came. An arrow had lodged itself in the back of his head, courtesy of Clint Barton who had been following Peter like a hawk when his back had been turned away from the mass of agents.