How Far We've Come

Chapter Three

Tony lost all communication with the team the moment he burst through the door of the main building. Just like that, comms went dead.

Whoever this guy was, his tech was good. Good enough to kill Tony Stark's radio signals in seconds.

That was a very bad omen for the rest of their mission.

"Alright, Richie Rich, where is your pampered ass hiding?"

If they stuck to the plan, Steve was currently coming through the back while Nat and Clint took the second floor from the sides. Black Widow and Hawkeye would take out whoever was upstairs and flush everyone out while Steve and Tony waited on the main level.

Thankfully, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s blueprints did include the basement's entrance at the center of the building. The team would rendezvous at the door and face whatever the hell waited for them together.

A little too predictable if you asked Tony. But even if they no longer had the element of surprise, they now had the element of sheer force.

"Oh, fuck me."

Tony rounded the corner... and there was no one there. Nothing. Just an empty hallway after an empty room.

"Jarvis?"

But Jarvis was gone too. All things wireless were dead. If his suit's power didn't lay nestled in his chest, it would be dead, too.

"Tony?" Clint came rushing down from end, bow lowered, with Nat at his heels. "What the-"

"I know."

Natasha rolled her eyes and cracked her knuckles. "This is obviously some sort of trap."

"Maybe we got lucky and they left with all the goods before we showed up?" Clint suggested, reaching back to notch an arrow before he remembered he still had his first one. He hadn't even shot anyone yet. "Tony, I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

Nat hushed them. All Tony could hear with his own breathing and the occasional whir of his suit. The air was eerie, dead.

"Tony, where's Steve? I can't hear him."

The serum. The quiet. The damn back door. "Shit. Shit shit shit!"

Realization dawned on everyone's' faces and all three of them beelined for the south side of the building.

#

Steve broke the back door down for no reason.

There wasn't an ambush waiting behind it, or even a lab or ominous looking maps or machines or anything.

The room was completely empty. Just white walls and a battered grey carpet.

Hefting his shield at eye level, in case someone was waiting beside the door frame, he stepped into the hall. It was completely empty, too.

What was going on?

Something felt wrong, but Steve couldn't put a finger on it. Sure, there was a high chance this was a trap of sorts, Steve knew that. He fought in wars, dammit. He knew a basic trap. This felt... different.

But there was something more to this ominous churning in his gut. Something more severe.

He was just standing there, a sitting duck in the middle of the hall, when he heard the scream.

High pitched, almost girlish, but just deep enough to know it was a younger boy. Familiar.

Peter.

How was Peter here? Someone would have called them from the tower, someone would have-

Steve didn't have time to think. He needed to get to his son.