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yeeter-parkor · 5 years ago

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Cracked ribs and broken hearts

You wanted Peter angst? I have Peter angst.

He’re’s where you can read it on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22141687/chapters/52851796

Summery: May could date whoever she liked, as long as he treated her right. Peter had made that rule for himself because he wouldn't like anyone she dated, simply because they weren't Ben. They could do whatever they wanted to him and he wouldn't so much as squeak, because better him then May.in case you couldn't tell, this doesn't work.

Peter sighed, propping his head in his hand. May was off on a job interview, somewhere in Michigan, and wouldn’t be back for two days, thirty-nine minutes, and 47 seconds. Not that he was counting. He didn’t even want her to go, it was unlikely she would take the job, she was under-qualified for it and neither of them wanted to move. His plan had been to stay with Mr. Stark, but apparently he was ‘an enabler of unhealthy habits’ and ‘didn’t understand the concept of a bedtime’ so she had asked her boyfriend, Christopher, or Chris, to check in on him. Now, he wanted to make one thing perfectly clear, he didn’t like Chris, he never had, but it was cemented when MJ had decided to come over for ‘homework help’. AKA she wanted to avoid her little brother and eat his food.

“Hello, Peter.” Chris had said, practically strutting in. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. What's your name pretty thing?” He asked, extending his hand to MJ.

“Not his girlfriend.” She said, turning back to his sketchbook, apparently feeling no need to respond to the question or the handshake.

“Well, nice to meet you ‘Not His Boyfriend’ he said, laughing. Peter rolled his eyes. He was happy for May, and maybe it was because he had been there, but he felt like Ben’s body was barely cold. Which is part of why he dismissed his initial misgivings about Chris, after all, there wasn’t an hour, let alone a day he didn’t think about the death of his uncle, so of course, he didn't like Mays new boyfriend.

MJ had left pretty quickly after that, not wanting to hand around. She had given him a half-formed explanation. She had pulled him aside the day after at school while waiting for the rest of the decision team to show up.

“Your aunt has a boyfriend?” She’d asked him.

“Mhm.” He’d said, not particularly wanting to discuss the situation.

“ I don’t like him.” She said, her voice cold. That had surprised him. Sure MJ could be a bit quick to judge, but there was no reason for her to think that.

“I- wha- but… why?” He’d stuttered out.

“I don’t know Peter, but I have been around enough creepy teachers and gas station attendants to know how those guys are, and there is something wrong.” She had said. “Just… be careful with him, okay?” She had asked. Actually had made him promise. An angry MJ was not a safe MJ, and there was definitely some kind of anger there.

And now here he was, sitting around, dreading Chris’s appearance. Peter wasn’t really in any danger, he knew that. He was spiderman, he could get beat around and turn out fine, he knew that. If he wanted to he could kill Chris in two seconds flat, not that he would ever do so intentionally. The only reason he laid down and took the beatings, aside from his identity, was because MJ had been right. People like that will always hurt someone, and he would rather get beat burnt drowned and stabbed before he let Aunt May get a scratch because of him. That didn’t however, mean he had to like it. Chris has progressed to actually beating him when May left, probably so she wouldn’t see the bruises, and he felt like he might actually be dying.

He heard the jingle of keys in the lock, making him tense. Personally he knew that no evidence of Chris’s attacks were going to stay for longer than a day at most, a plus of his superpowers, but there was no super painkiller power, so the bruises and broken bones sure hurt until then.

“ Peter!” Chris’s voice slurred, making peter wince, turning around slowly. “ Why aren’t you at school ?”

“Well, it is a Saturday.” He said sarcastically. Not the best approach, but he wasn’t going to stop anything by being kind, and he didn’t feel particularly charitable at the moment.

His suspicions were confirmed when Chris pushed him roughly against a wall, forcing him to look the taller man in the eye. “Don’t be smart with me, or I’ll hafta teach you a lesson.”

This was serious. Peter knew it was. He had been made to watch enough rapping with cap videos at school to know that, but he’d fought with enough pretty robbers that threats that he just found Chris funny. It sounded like he’d watched a TV show.

“The hell are you smiling at?”Chris growled. Reminding Peter that there was one key difference between him and the rest of the criminals; Peter couldn’t fight back.

His spidey senses buzzed loudly, urging him to duck away from the fist coming straight at his head. Peter didn’t know what made him do it, but instead of ducking away, he turned his face slightly, so the bruises would land directly on his cheekbone and not in his hairline. Mostly because bruises on his head made taking showers hell. It had been something he’d picked up spidermanning. Admittedly, when he did this on patrol he would just avoid the punch completely, but he didn’t have that option now.

0o0o0

Peter had recently sunk off to his room, with the full intention to sleep a non-recommended amount of time, when his phone rang. Rolling over with a groan, he looked at the phone, feeling dread sink in his stomach. Mr. Stark was calling him. Although the ringtone (Set to the theme song of the iron man cartoon he grew up watching) should have given it away. He sighed, answering the phone, despite desperately wanting to roll over and sleep. He knew that it would be obvious that there was an issue, and knowing Tony he would overreact. Although, he didn’t know if it counted as overreacting if it was justified, but with no supporting information.

“Hey, this is Peter.” He said tiredly. Tony had taught him to always say his name when answering the phone, just to avoid confusion.

“Peter! Hey, you wanna come down to the lab today? May said to not let you get bored or you might actually burn the house down.”

“One time!” He said indignantly through the phone. “And I was 13, totally different situation!”

“Oh, sure when you burn a house down two years ago, you get left alone for the weekend, but when i do it, it’s arson.” Tony quipped through the phone. Peter laughed, wincing at the aching in his rib.

“So you coming over?” Tony asked, redirecting the conversation. Peter walked over to the mirror, trying to judge if he could pass off the bruise on his face well enough. Tony knew he had a few issues at school, so he was hoping that his mentor wouldn’t push too hard.

“Uuuuhhhh Mmm… sure.” Peter said finally, smiling at Tony's laughing over the phone.

“Okay, you wanna swing over? I can send Happy if not.” Tony offered.

“Nah, I’ll take the bus,” Peter said. He knew that his mentor would rather die a slow and painful death from anything rather than taking the bus. Surprisingly, germs bothered him quite a bit given his lifestyle. Peter always loved people watching, trying to come up with stories about the people around him. Plus, it always made him feel better after a subway bombing, knowing he would be right in the middle to help.

“Bwah! Strange child.” Tony said. “Okay, see you soon.”

“Bye,” Peter said, hastily hanging up the phone. He would have to find a way to trick Chris incase he came over again, although he doubted he’d notice or care, so he made a fast pillow decoy on the bed, complete with his backup phone (because when Tony Stark is your mentor you have those kinds of things). He cursed, seeing how badly his hands were shaking, and opted to grab a banana before leaving, hoping it was as easily addressable as hunger.

The bus ride was short and blissfully uneventful, and before he knew it, he was in the lobby at Tony’s building… Avengers building? He didn’t really keep track.

“Hey! Kid, you can’t be in here!” A guard yelled at him, rushing in front of him. Sighing, peter sidestepped.

“I have permission, I swear. Ask Mr. Stark if you don’t believe me.” He supplied. He really didn’t want to deal with a new guard today.

“Haha kid. I’m not joking, turn around or I’ll have to use force.�� Oh boy.

“Why does nobody believe I know Mr. Stark? I know I look kinda pathetic but…” He started, stepping around the guard again, moving to scan his card on the door. To his surprise, his spidey senses tingle in the back of his head, making him sidestep and whip around just in time to see four bullet holes implanted in the concrete where his brain would have been.

“ I said turn around!” The guard screamed, holding the pistol with shaky hands. Peter just stared wide-eyed between the man and the bullet holes. Normally he would have jumped around a bit, maybe crawled on the ceiling, and gotten the gun away from this idiot, but if the throbbing from his side was any kind of indication something had been broken during an altercation with Chris, and he didn’t want to jeopardize the healing. If he let it go to long, Karen would be required to report it to Tony, and he did not want to fumble through an explanation for that.

“Okay, okay, turning around.” He said, raising his hands. De-Escalation he could do. He basically practiced every night on patrol.

“What the hell is going on down here?” Tony’s voice came from the elevator that Peter had been trying to enter.

“Ummm…” Peter started elegantly. Before he got a chance to explain, the guard started going off about what had happened, actually trying to convince Tony that Peter was a terrorist and that the guard had saved Tony’s life in the same breath.

“Go pack your stuff, you're fired,” Tony said calmly.

“Bu- I ju- wha-” The guard stammered, clearly surprised. Tony didn’t repeat himself, he simply grabbed Peter's sleeve, turning to the elevator. Peter followed, happy to escape the rest of humanity for a couple hours with the avengers.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tony grabbed peter in a (almost) bone-crushing hug, making him flinch on reflex. He knew he was safe with Tony, but after Chris had literally stabbed him in the back with a fork hugs freaked him out. After he had a second to process, he hugged him mentor back, trying to stop himself from shaking, if only by sheer force of will. Based on Tony’s face, visible due to the mirrors, he would say it didn’t work very well. Peter hated guns.

Tony let go of him a moment before the elevator reached his lab, silent permission for him to bounce off to his own project. Not that Peter particularly wanted to, but he figured he would keep some semblance of normal going for as long as possible, so he went off to the desk de-gummer he was programming currently. He was so damn tired of getting caught off guard, both at school and some of the fancy dinners Tony would occasionally drag him to, with the promise of french fries and ice cream afterward.

“Peter?” Tony asked after a second. Peter snapped his head up, pushing down his initial adrenaline response.

“Uh, yeah?” He asked, trying to make his voice sound as casual as possible.

“May texted me to ask you how ‘Chris’ is for her,” Tony said, looking at the phone in confusion. “Oh, that was supposed to be discreet. Okay, well, too late for that. Who’s Chris?”

Okay, this was fine, everything is fine. Don’t panic, that will just make things worse. Panicking is bad. No panicking. Shit he was panicking.

“Apparently he won’t stop texting her about you, did something happen?” Tony asked, his voice laced with concern that sounded incredibly genuine, surprising Peter. He didn’t want to know what Chris was texting that would have both May and Tony worried.

“Eh.”

“Peter…” Tony said, using his adult-y voice. Peter hated that voice, it meant he was bothering Mr. Stark, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Sighing, he swiveled around to face Tony.

“Hey. where'd that happen?” Tony asked, brushing his thumb over Peter's bruise. It took a lot of self-control to not flinch away, and Peter was sure that if he hadn’t seen the hand coming he would have. Still, he tensed at the touch.

“Oh, just tripped.”

“Okay then… go ahead and get back to your robot, I’ll tell her you’re fine.” Tony said, making Peter smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said, letting out a breath. Tony eyed him though, and Peter knew that he had only put off the discussion. But for now, tinkering in calm silence Tony's lab, which wasn’t ever truly quiet, Peter was okay with that. It made him feel a little braver like he could face whatever happened at home.

0o0o0o

All Peter wanted was to go back to four days ago. Four days ago, May was still gone, and Chris was out drinking his heart out, far away from his house, and even farther away from his aunt. Peter would have happily taken his secret to the grave, and had planned on it, but life seemed to have different plans. Tony had not, in fact, told May that Peter was okay. Quite the opposite in fact, and given the fact that Tony had once let him swing home with a broken arm (Although he swore on several people's body parts he didn’t know about it) May had taken the complaint seriously.

“Peter, I want you to take your shirt off.’ May said, crossing her arms. Peter almost spit out his coke.

“I- what? Why- huh?” He stuttered smoothly, followed by him almost choking to death from inhaling his side.

“Take off your shirt. I want to make sure you are okay.” She repeated, her gaze icy. He had no idea what Tony had told her, but it definitely wasn’t anything good. He pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his forearms.

“Don’t be sarcastic Peter, your tee-shirt too.” She said.

“How can I be sarcastic? I didn’t even say anything?” He pointed out, stalling cleverly. With any luck, she would take the bait, and drop the issue long enough for his bruises to fade all the way.

“Off. Now. And don’t try and stall with me, you can’t lie to save your life.” Well then. Given no choice, he pulled the tee over his head, wincing at her reaction. Between a few robbers and Chris’s earlier fight with him, his abdomen was black and blue.

“It was just a bad night on patrol, I swear.” he started slowly. She just shot him a look, still refusing to say anything. “ May…?”

“Don’t lie to me, Peter. Tony called me because the suit picked up on these long before you fought anyone.” Well, crud. He had no idea what to do now. If he denied it and she found out anyway then everything would be worse, but if he told her and she hadn’t been suspicious, he would have gone and ruined everything.

“Uhhh….”

“Peter.” She said, taking him by the face, furrowing her brow at his poorly concealed flinch. “Who. did. This. to. You.” She asked, tightening her grip with each word. It was actually starting to hurt a little.

“Aunt May, calm down…” He started. He didn’t understand her reaction at all honestly. He got beat up as spiderman all the time, this was no different, he just didn’t have a mask to hide his face.

“Calm down? Calm down? Peter Benjamin Parker-” She started. He slowly started putting his shirt back on. If he was gonna be lectured, it was best to not give her an example to point to. Plus he was cold.

“Please?” He tried instead, keeping his eyes on the ground. He didn’t have to be looking at her to see that he was melting at that.

“Was it Chris?” She asked him. His head snapped up involuntarily because it didn’t make sense for her mind to jump to that. He never did anything around her. “Was it him baby?” She asked, her voice wobbling.

“Okay, May listen, before you do anything…”

“It was.” She said. It wasn’t a question. He just meet her eyes. He wasn’t going to confirm or deny, but she could read him like an open book. Actually, everyone could, he wasn’t good at hiding his emotions.

“I’m sorry.” he offered. She wasn’t paying attention, instead of stocking over to the phone, holding his wrist in her other hand, dialed his number, and started yelling through the receiver in the space of 30 seconds.

“May…” He started, only to have her hand clamped over his mouth. Apparently his opinion isn't needed at the moment.

“Don’t you hang up Chris. Don’t you FUC-``she cut herself off, slamming the receiver down before finishing to word.

“May…?” He asked quietly. The silence of the apartment felt like it was pressing down on him. He couldn’t pick up on anything other than her erratic heartbeat.

“The dicks coming over here. I want you to leave.” She said calmly, speeding off to his room.

“What? Aunt May-” He started.

“No. If he did that then I don’t want you around him. Pack a bag, you’re gonna stay with Tony for a couple of weeks, understand?” She said firmly. He nodded sullenly.

“I’ll go pack.” He had zero intention of leaving May alone with Chris. The sole reason he had done what he did was so that she would stay safe, she didn’t just get to jeopardize that because she didn’t think Peter would take a hit. But Peter also knew when to stop arguing. Let them think they’ve won.

It wasn’t a minute latter that the door started pounding. “Go,” May said, shoving the bag into his hand. “Use the window, it’s safer now.”

He crawled out, scaling the bricks easily enough. He really should be wearing his suit, someone could see him, but his aunt's apartment faced a back corner of queens, where nobody went if they could avoid it. Anyone that saw him would undoubtedly have enough drugs in their system to discount any evidence in court. He paused once on the roof, trying to focus his hearing in on the conversation. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but the tones where enough to tell that both the adults were dangerous.

Four streets down, he could hear a mugging in process. He didn’t have his suit, and would never be able to go help on foot, and so Peter knew that he was, in effect, useless to the woman, but the more he tried to hear his aunt, the more he heard the other woman. He was about to give in, sprint off and trying to find a way to help when he heard another scream. He was moving before he registered it. May hadn’t screamed since Ben died.

“ How dare you?” Chris screamed in her face, throwing her down. Out of the corner of Peter's eye, he saw her head bounce on the linoleum once before she stilled.

Peter didn’t have any memory of throwing himself through the bedroom window or crossing the room, all he remembered was the feeling of pressing his forearm against Christopher's throat. The feel of the man's angry breathing on his face. He smelt like alcohol and cigarettes and everything opposite of what was safe.

“ Get your grubby hands off of me.” Chris spat, clawing at Peter's hands. He only intensified his hold. He wasn't going to kill him, not by a long shot, but Chris needed to know that Peter could .

“You do not touch my aunt, do you understand me?” Peter asked. Hearing his own voice scared him. He didn't know he would sound so angry.

“Piss off,” Chris said. Peter took him by his shoulders, knocking the man into the wall once. Just enough to rattle him. Be careful of his grip. Don’t kill. Don’t kill don’t kill don’t kill.

“Listen, you can beat me around all you want. I don’t like it but I won’t fight back. But you touch my aunt again, you hurt her, and I will snap your neck, you understand me?” He growled close to the intoxicated man's ear.

“I do, let me go!” Chris yelped. Message delivered, he dropped the man unceremoniously to the ground. Chris picked himself back up, dusted his clothing off, and started making his way to the door, pausing in front of May, who was still out cold.

“Bitch.” He muttered under his breath. Peter flew across the room in an instead, his fist colliding with the man's temple, knocking him out cold. He looked down at the two unconscious adults.

“Oh no oh no oh no.” He muttered, grabbing the phone and dialing quickly. “Please pick up please pick up, come on Mr. Stark…”

“Hello? This is Tony.” He said neutrally through the phone.

“Mr. Stark?” He asked, feeling like he was going to break for the first time that day.

“Kid? What’s going on, is everyone okay?” Tony asked. He must have some kind of 6th sense or something.

“I… No. No there not. I might have just killed someone.” He said. “I mean, he’s breathing… but I don’t know about his brain I punched him pretty hard and just… I dunno… help.”

“Okay Kid, stay calm. I’m in the suit on my way to you. Tell me everything that happened.” Tony said.

“Well, May and her boyfriend were fighting because he accidentally gave me… a bruise or two… and he knocked her head really hard on the floor and so I told her to never do it again and to leave and then he called her a bad word and so I punched him and now neither of them will wake up and I’m going to jail forever.” He said, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“Shit. Okay Peter, I’m close. I’m gonna hang up, and I want you to call 911 for me and tell them just what you told me, okay?” Tony said.

“O-Okay… thank you Mr. Stark.” He said, pulling his knees up.

“Of course kid. You’ll be okay. I’ll be there soon.”

pt 2

Tony could feel his heart in his throat as he raced up the steps. The elevators apparently out of order. He regretted ever letting Peter leave his sight ever and would be installing multiple new safety features to Peter's suit, as well as an additional protocol for undetected injuries. Also, Peter wasn’t allowed out of his sight. Did he mention that?

The grubby little door, with a mat that said ‘home sweet apartment’ and a single fake rock with a hidden key underneath created him. Not hesitating to knock, he pounded on the door, only feeling a little bad about Peter's heightened senses. He wasn't worried about hurting his ears at the moment.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. Tony almost froze seeing the teen there. He had blood on his hand, which he was concerned about, but more alarming was his expression. Not for the first time he regretted Peter having seen what he has. No kid should have that kind of haunted ara about them. Not hesitating, he pulled the trembling teen against his side, which was good, because he didn’t think Peter could stand up much longer on his own.

“Hey, kid.” He said, paying attention to his voice. The last thing he wanted to do was break the kid further by scaring him. Luckily, he had practice hiding anger, no matter what Pepper thought.

“I-I didn’t mean… he just… He hit May and...” Peter stammered, unshed tears glinting in the dull light of the apartment.

“He hit May?” He asked, shocked. Somehow, no matter what Peter had already told him, seeing the strong woman crumpled on the ground with the man next to her, made Tony go cold.

Peter nodded his head, the movement disrupting a single tear, making it fall quickly down his left cheek. His cheek. “He hit you.”

Peter didn’t reply. It hadn’t been a question. Instead, Tony just bent down, squeezing Peter tightly before letting him go. Peter wasn’t going to be allowed out of his site after this, whether he knew it or not.

Tony just nodded along, Following the teen to the kitchen. As soon as his aunt was in sight the boy froze against Tony. He couldn’t blame him either, her temple was bleeding, and there was clear fluid dripping down her ear into her hairline.

“Peter,” Tony started, turning to face Peter and gripping him by both of his shoulders. The poorly concealed flinch didn’t go over his head, but they had more pressing issues. “No one blames you for what happened here. Right now, I need you to go get a phone and call an ambulance for Chris and May, I’ll handle the legal issues with Chris, but I think your aunt is really hurt, okay?” Peter hesitated, staring into Tony's eyes with his own big browns ones, wide with fear. “As soon as May is well enough I’ll have her transferred to the compound,” he assured. Peter seemed okay with this plan, because he snapped back to reality, rushing to grab the phone off the wall.

“Come on May,” Tony muttered under his breath as he crouched down beside her. “Peter needs you here.” Her pulse was thready and irradiance, but it was definitely there, which was a good start. Not a great one, but better than he had expected. He looked in her ears. The fluid was completely clear, no sight of blood, although he couldn’t remember if that was good or not, he was guessing not. Afraid to aggravate a spinal injury, Tony started clearing the mess around her, hoping to keep her safe from dish fragments if she started seizing.

“I called them Mr. Stark,” Peter said, reappearing. Tony reached out, hugging the teen tightly against him.

“You’re gonna stay with me until this is all cleared up, m’kay?” He asked. Peter just nodded, a single tear falling directly onto the carpet. “We’re gonna wait for the ambulance to get here, but while we wait, I need you to tell me what happened, okay?”

Peter tensed instantly, his eyes darting to Tony's face. Instead of answering the boy simply pulled his hand away and walked slowly to his aunt, taking her hand and sitting cross-legged on the floor, face turned to the madness that was the kitchen. “Okay.”

“Alright, let's start with what the hell did that dickhead do?” Tony asked. Peter winced at Tony’s tone, which he would admit was a bit harsher than necessary, although Tony felt the name was justified.

“He- i… we where…” Peter started, waving his hand around, the other still holding his aunt's hand.

“Okay, fine. Let's try it this way, I’ll ask you answer. Sound good?’ He asked. Peter nodded his head, his eyes still fixated on May.

“So Chris did hit you, right Peter?” Tony asked, holding his breath slightly as Peter nodded. He tightened his hold on Peter.

“Okay… okay okay okay…” He muttered under his breath. “And he hit May?” He asked.

“Once,” Peter muttered. “Earlier. She told me to leave.”

“She told you to leave?” Tony asked, surprised. “Why? What happened?”

“She got a call from you about k-Karen and the suit while I was at school…” Peter started. Another tear dropped. “She made me tell her and called him… she had me go out the window and I heard them… fighting.” Peter said, pulling his knees to his chest. “She screamed and I… I came in and…” His face crumpled, and he ducked his head down to his knees, trying to hide his tears.

Tony didn’t dare do anything, simply held onto peter and waited for the ambulances to arrive and for them to take the kid's aunt and Chris. It didn’t take long, he could already hear the sirens, and he would guess that peter had heard them far earlier, keeping his body tightly curled. It wasn’t until they were knocking on the door that Peter let go of his aunt's hand. Peter got to his feet, stepping towards the door, making Tony follow suit.

“Hi, we got a call about to unconfuse adults-” the EMT at the door started. Peter just bobbed his head, pointing to the kitchen. This seemed to be all the instruction they needed, rushing in to assess.

“Come on Peter, you shouldn’t see this,” Tony said, steering him out the door. Peter followed easily, seemingly agreeing with the sentiment. Tony was about to let go of Peter, but the kid tripped three times on the way to the stairs, seemingly weighed down by what he had just seen. It almost seemed like a physical burden, pushing down on his young shoulders.

Once on the street, there was nothing but the glint of traffic lights and cars that were loud enough that even Tony felt like covering his ears. The streets must be hell for Peter, but the teen didn’t seem to react at all, simply watching the people around them with mild interest.

It took him a moment to realize that he hadn’t driven but flown, taking his suit, and hadn’t thought to call Happy ahead of time, which is how he ended up standing on the grossest buss of all time. After seeing the rat family burrowing into the cushions he decided he didn’t want to risk the seats, for both his and Peter's sake.

Speaking off, Peter didn’t seem to be doing well with…well, any of it. He was visibly shaking, his fingers wrapped loosely around the poll, and his eyes were glassy and scared. Lucky they were able to get off a few stops later, able to escape the ramblings of the man sitting nearest to Tony, at least he thought it was a man, who was rocking under a ratty gray blanket. Tony held on tightly to Peter as they got off, not wanting to lose him in the night time rush. After that, it was a short walk back. Peter stayed completely silent the whole time, keeping his head down and eyes low.

Tony eyed the bullet holes in the wall that they hadn’t removed yet, making him tighten his grip on Peter. There was bad luck, and then there was statistically impossible, and then there was Peter. They rode the elevator in silence. He wanted to let Peter enjoy it for as long as he could allow. He wasn’t going to say anything unless Peter asked, but the kids aunt was making him nervous, and even if she did make a full recovery Tony would end up watching Peter for a while anyway, so he would have to be actually responsible, beyond just keeping Peter at a baseline level of not dead or on the bottom of an airplane. Soon enough though, they were seated on the couch. Tony far preferred to have hard conversations in his lab, but that was because usually he was being confronted about something, and blowing something up in there face was a good way to make people shut up. He didn’t think it would apply here.

“Peter…” He started.

“Is my aunt going to be okay?” Peter asked, finally meeting his eyes again.

“I don’t know.” He said honestly.

“You can’t predict the future, but you understand biology, better than I do anyway, you must have some idea.” Peter challenged.

“Your aunt… she is a very strong woman, but if she recovers it will take a long time, even with my people working on her. I can’t promise anything but… she’ll fight to stay with you.”

“Okay,” Peter said, drawing his knees up to use as a barrier. Tony sighed, shifting to face him better.

“Peter, I need you to tell me what happened with Chris okay? I wouldn’t ask if I was just curious, but I am going to need to talk to lawyers and if they have wrong information…” he said, leading off.

“I understand…” Peter said slowly, not lifting his head. Unsure of what to do, Tony wrapped an arm around the teen, allowing him a minute to calm down before he started asking questions. Peter rubbed at his eyes, trying to remove all traces of tear marks left on his face.

“She was telling me to come here,” Peter said finally, after sitting in silence for several minutes longer than Tony would have liked. Not that he minded, but it worried him. Even when nervous or hurt Peter would usually talk more, he didn’t like to see him shut down like this.

“She was?” He asked, prompting.

“Yeah. She saw some marks on my arm and was going to confront him. She uh… she didn’t want me around him at all though… a-and so I was supposed to take the bus here.” Peter said, stammering his way through the sentence.

“How’d you get the marks?” Tony asked. He needed to know what happened today, but he could tell from personal experience and mistakes that if he pushed too hard right now Peter would shut down immediately.

“We… I um…” Peter took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. “We were fighting and I tried to leave because I was worried that May would come back and that it would make her upset because until today she thought we got along great so yeah, I was uh, walking down the stairs and um, well I put my earbuds in and he uh, he grabbed the big potted tree and threw it at me so I kinda fell down the stairs and-”

“He threw a tree at you! While you were on the stairs? Holy shit Peter you-” He started, having completely abandoned his facade of calmness. When he was Spiderman it was one thing, not that Tony liked that to be clear, but without the mask, he was just so young and small that Tony had to stop himself from warning Peter about catching his fingers in the hinges. It seemed insane that someone would hurt a kid like that, especially one like Peter.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

“ Don’t worry? Are you insane? You could have died.” He said, pulling the kid against him again, serving as a reminder that he was still very much alive, if not a little boney.

“No, I couldn’t have Mr. Stark. I’m spiderman remember? I get punched every day, it’s just without the suit I couldn’t do anything to stop him.” Peter said, his voice full of forced calm.

“Peter, just because you can take a hit doesn't mean you should. It’s one thing if your fighting crime where you are helping people by getting hit, and wearing your suit so I know what's happening and I can help you. Nobody is gaining by him beating you up, and I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything that happened.”

“You’re wrong,” Peter said bluntly. He wasn’t trying to hide the tears on his face anymore, and Tony didn’t know if that was better or worse.

“About what Peter? What do I have wrong? Please tell me.” Peter snapped his head up to make eye contact with him, his big brown eyes bloodshot from crying and slightly unsettling. He looked positive he was right.

“It was helping someone.”

“Peter, there is no way that this-” He gesture to the bruise on Peter's face, “helped anyone.”

“If May left him then he would go hit another kid. One without superpowers, and if I told May she would freak out like she did and now she’s hurt…” Damn this child.

“You could have called the police.” Tony insisted.

“Mr. Stark, this was the first time she was happy sense last year when Ben died. I didn’t like him, but I don’t think that I would have liked anyone she dated.” Peter said, staring at the floor again. “I just… I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Except for yourself huh?” Tony said.

“Well I’m a superhero, I knew that he couldn’t hurt me to bad, and if I had to I could always fight back. Not everyone could sir.” Peter said. “I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t let anyone get hurt because of me. I-I just… I um… It…” peters face crumpled as he pulled his knees to hide his face.

“Oh Peter…” He said, pulling the teen against him. They stayed like that for a long time, Peters shaking calmed down after five or so minutes, but he didn’t move, so neither did Tony. he didn’t know how long they had been like that, but long after his legs had fallen asleep, he heard the sliding of the elevator door. A few moments later, Natasha was in front of him, although he hadn’t heard her footsteps at all, looking sadly at Peter.

“He’s-” Tony started.

“Asleep. I know.” She said, peering at the teenager. She was always a little gentler with Peter, smoothing his hair back with her hand.

“Sir, there is an incoming call from Memorial hospital, would you like me to answer?” FRIDAY asked, automatically lowering her volume so as to not wake the child.

“Uh, ye-” Natasha shook her head violently making her bright hair flare around her. “No, thank you FRIDAY.”

“You are welcome, sir.” She said, powering down.

“Why…” He asked, gesturing to the ceiling.

“I was just at the hospital, I know what they want to tell you, and the volume would have woken Peter, even turned down,” Natasha said in almost a whisper.

“Okay, what is it?” He asked. Natasha managed to maintain a neutral face while she spoke, her eyes staying on the teenager.

“Chris will make a full recovery, he will be released into police custody in the morning after staying the night for observation.” She said.

“Okay, can’t say I wasn’t rooting the other way but I guess that’s good for Peter,” he said. She nodded, swallowing thickly. “What about May.”

“They… May Parker was lost on the ambulance ride to the hospital. They attempted resuscitation on-site, and continued until they reached the hospital, where her brain was determined to damaged to sustain life anymore.” She said, allowing a single tear down her face.

“She’s gone?” He asked, breathless. Natasha nodded.

“Social services will be in contact with you soon about Peter's permanent place of residence.” She said.

“He can’t go into the foster system,” Tony said. “Aside from Spiderman, it's incredibly dangerous, and he’s so smart too.”

“Well where is he gonna stay,” Natasha asked. “He can’t live in an apartment by himself.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Tony snapped. He was only meet with Natashas icy stare. “Sorry. He has a room here, just in case he had wanted to become an avenger, he could stay there.”

“Tony, you can’t take on a teenager, you can barely take care of yourself.” She said, eyeing the boy collapsed onto him.

“It’s not that I can’t take care of myself, it's that I choose not to when there is something that needs finishing. If I chose to I could be getting 8 hours of sleep, eating vegetables and running.”

“But will you?” She asked, her green eyes boring into his. As much as he wanted to answer yes immediately, he had to pause and think. He didn’t know if ever in his life he had made that choice before.

“I have done all kinds of statistically impossible things from sheer force of will, this will be similar, except with more motivation,” he said. Peter shifted in his sleep, sorta nuzzling into Tony. “I’m not gonna leave him alone.”

“I see. I’ll draw up some papers for you, make the process as smooth as possible.” Natasha said, pressing a kiss to Peter's head before standing up.

“Thank you, Natasha.” He said, smiling.

“No problem. And Tony,” She said, turning around. “Put me down for babysitting duty, kay?” she asked, not waiting for a response before turning around and walking out, leaving Tony alone with the sleeping teen. His leg was starting to hurt really bad, but after what Natasha had told him he didn’t want to risk waking Peter up. He shouldn’t have to face this before he had to.

“We’re going to take care of you, Peter. You have Natasha on your side, nobody can hurt you now.”

pt 3

“Christopher McGnowen?” A female voice asked, cold and deliberately. Chris looked up from the hospital bed, awed by the woman standing in front of him.

“Black widow?” He asked, covering his shock with cocky ness. “Not surprised you stopped in, it’s the right thing to do when a hero is in the hospital.”

“You’re right. Unfortunately May Parker died before she could be admitted.” The redhead walked over to his bed, her eyes cold and angry.

“It’s a shame really. If she hadn’t been so hysterical she might still be with us.” It took one and a half seconds after those words had left his mouth that there was an icy blade pressed on his neck.

“If you hadn’t been born she would still be with us.” The redhead said, increasing the pressure on the blade just enough to make blood run down his neck.

“Wha-“

“No. You don’t get to talk right not you dick. Not only did you murder one of the strongest women I ever met, you beat Peter until he was scared of his own shadow.”

Opting to play dumb, Chris cocked his head to the side, grinning. “I’ve never met a peter before in my life.”

He regretted the movie when he felt the pressure on his throat double. The blood was running freely now, although he knew enough to know he wasn’t in danger of bleeding out yet. If the black widow wanted him dead then he would already have died, she just wanted to scare him.

“Brown hair, big eyes, child genius, one of the kindest humans to grace this planet. Ring a bell?” she asked. He started to nod, understanding the charade was over, when he felt the middle dig harder into his skin, starting to make him nervous.

“Y-Yes he um, he’s a nice kid.”

“Really, you didn’t seem to think so when you tortured him and murdered his last living relative.” She said, venom lacing her words.

“Listen lady, i don’t know what your problem is, but once you leave I’m reporting you to the police for this. This is a crime.” He said, switching tactics.

“Oh doll,” She said with a grin. “The police work for me.”

Chris didn’t have time to process what she did after that.

0o0o0o

Peter was confused. He had woken up asleep against Tony, who definitely was not in the most comfortable position, some time in the middle of the night. He had been about to make a move to get up, but Tony had draped an arm over him and he was worried about disturbing his mentor. While he was calculating whether getting his phone would be too much movement, he heard soft footsteps from across the room, probably undetectable to most humans, causing him to perk up instantly. A few moments later, he saw his favorite red-headed assassin making her way across the workshop with precision, moving quickly.

“Natasha?” He whispers called to her. Her head shot up, drawing his attention to a splatter of blood on her cheek. “Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, making another move to sit up. Before he could, she was in front of him, easing him back down with a smile, “Не беспокойся об этом, маленький паук, отдыхай.” (Don’t worry about it, little spider, rest.) She said sweetly in Russian, eyeing Tony.

“Are there any updates on my aunt?” He asked, quieter this time. It must have been the wrong thing to say, because her smile melted off her face, leaving her with a sad expression as she smoothed down his hair.

“Yes. It isn’t good news Peter, we’ll tell you in the morning.” She said sadly. Peter felt his heart sink.

“Not good news… is she gonna be okay?” He asked, a little desperately. Natasha looked him straight in the eye, before glancing at Tony's sleeping figure, still a little slumped onto him. “She’s not, is she?”

“Peter, you aunt was one of the bravest and strongest women I have ever met, and that includes everyone I trained within the red room, but her best attribute was she loved you very, very much, and she did everything she could to keep you from getting hurt.”

“And now she’s hurt because of me,” Peter said tensely. Natasha frowned, rubbing his hair.

“No, she was hurt because of Chris. She was happy because of you.”

“Was,” Peter repeated. Natasha looked at him curiously.

“Hm?”

“You keep saying ‘was’. Is she not happy anymore or…” He trailed off as the truth hit him like a load of rubble. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” He asked, meeting her stare. She leaned over the edge of the couch, wrapping him in a hug.

“I won’t lie to you Peter.” She whispered, hugging him tightly. He was pretty sure if he didn’t have the spider bite he would be bruising by now. “She didn’t even make it to the hospital.”

And Peters world stopped.

0o0o0o

Tony woke up on the couch in his living room with a start. It took him a moment to figure out why he was awake before he felt another light slap on his cheek. Opening his eyes quickly, he saw Natasha leaning over him, traces of blood on her face and wearing a sad expression.

“Yeap, wazzup?” He asked, squinting at her. He had never been much of a morning person, and his head usually hurt so bad that he needed at least seven, maybe eight cups of coffee to function.

“I told him.” She said, burying her face in her hands. Oh no, too early, emotions, red alert.

“Tol- who wha?” he asked, slurred. She looked at him for several beats, clearly expecting him to figure it out.

“Peter…” she started.

“Peter…” he repeated, looking down, he saw Peter asleep on him. Peter and Chris and May and… May and… “Shit! You told him about…” He gestured with his hands, sitting bolt upright. “With May and…”

“Yes, Tony. I told him May died.” She said, her eyes gleaming.

“Why would you do that?” He whispered angrily.

“He asked me, Tony, I wasn’t going to tell him a lie. Besides, he’s a smart kid, he would have figured it out anyway.” She said, flicking her eyes between Tonys and the sleeping teen.

“Shit. Why is there blood on your face?” He asked, still a little too groggy to be tactful. Age smirked at his question, making him extract uncomfortable.

“Let’s just say that Chris won’t be hurting another kid.” She said, wiping at the dried blood with her sleeve.

“I… don’t want to know.” He said. Probably not the best answer, he would definitely be getting an earful from Pepper about not getting details when he had the chance, but noise hurt and he was honestly a little scared of what she would say.

“That's good.” She said. “Peter just fell asleep a little bit ago, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t faking before I talked to you.”

“Okay…” He started. He knew she wanted something from him, but he couldn’t read people with this little caffeine.

“You’re hopeless. Here, coffee,” she said with an eye roll. He greedily accepted, feeling only slightly betrayed that she had let him go so long without it when it was clearly in easy access.

“You are my current favorite person.” He said, completely serious.

“I know.”

She sat in patient silence for a couple of minutes, watching as he drained the tumbler quickly before she tried to discuss anything else with him. Once he was done and had been given another cup by DUMM-Y, with no obvious traces of oil in it, she seemed confident she could try again.

“Tony, Peter can live her and all, that actually makes more sense than foster care or some random distant relatives, but you do realize he isn’t going to be okay after what happened, right?” She said cautiously. He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, which he found himself doing a lot these days.

“Oh wow Nat, you don’t say.”

“Tony…” She said warningly. “Just because I feel better leaving him with you doesn't mean I feel good about it.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m the only one in the building, Cap and Bucky are about three floors down, you and Clint live above me, Bruce has his own floor somewhere, and there are about a billion interns and employees mulling around here if something happens he won’t be alone.”

“I guess Steve wouldn’t let much happen to a child.” She said, resting her chin on her hand.

“So you told him.” He said finally. She nodded, looking sadly at Peter, who was still curled tightly against Tony, somehow not yet woken up by their noise.

“He took it pretty well, all things considered,” she said,

“And he went back to sleep?” He asked, completely shocked. He remembered his reaction when his parents died, he had been a mess for months, realistically years, afterward.

“Yeah. He just sorta curled in on himself. I asked him if he needed anything though.” She Nat said, looking down.

“And he didn’t?”

“He asked me to stay here.” She said, looking at the kid. Tony's heart clenched at that. Peter was so young sometimes it made him want to be sick. “Then he fell back asleep and I woke you up.”

“Okay… so he’s either dealing with it really well or a bunch of problems are gonna resurface when he’s 30.” Tony said. “That isn’t the worst coping mechanism.”

“Also isn’t the best.” She said. “Should he see someone? A therapist or something. I mean he’s so young, even if it isn’t about Spiderman, he’s had a lot of shit happen to him, it might be good for him to talk about it to a professional.”

“That actually would be a good idea. I’ll ask SHIELD to recommend someone.” He said tiredly. Peter stirred slightly, making both of the adults freeze. Tony wanted to let Peter put off facing his life for as long as possible.

“Maybe it would be best for us to be quiet,” Natasha said finally. Tony nodded his agreement, maneuvering to grab his laptop -as long as he was stuck here he might as well do some work- while Nat moved to grab her tablet. Tony stared at the kid in his lap for a minute. Peter really didn’t deserve all the shit life had thrown at him, but somehow he had managed to stay happy through all of it. He just hoped that this would be the same.

While Tony thought he brushed his hand through Peter's hair, yanking back when the kids' eyes flew open. Peter had a tendency to wake up instantly, something that baffled Tony more than his spider powers.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked quietly. And Tony, who had never been good with emotions, did the only thing he could think to do for Peter. He hugged him.

fin.

#Avengers #Avengers fanfic #fanfic #Peter parker #Peter parker fanfic #Peter Parker angst #angst #Peter angst #Tony Stark #Sad #angsty

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yeeter-parkor · 5 years ago

Text

The revolution of FRIDAY, and a clash of interests

FRIDAY has her own ideas... and she’s salty.

Read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726712

summery: Tony would die to keep Peter safe. Peter has a problem with that, and FRIDAY takes sides.

Tony shifted in the hospital bed, wincing as the sheets grazed somewhere on his chest that ached and, oh, looks at that! Giant bullet wound, cool. To be honest, he wasn’t even all that surprised about it, he had gone into the base with no suit or means to call for backup knowing they were armed to the teeth, to be completely fair, he had only half expected to wake up at all. He turned his head and almost jumped out of the bed (Not that he could, because oh hey, look at that, his legs broken.) because on the ceiling in the corner of the room, Peter was asleep, clearly having been huddled in the corner for quite a while if his wrinkled clothing was any indication. He coughed wincing when he felt his ribs ached in protest immediately. He startled when he heard a thud from the side of the room, and laughed when Peter’s disgruntled head popped up from the corner.

“Mr. ‘Ark?” Peter mumbled, rubbing his eye with his shirt sleeve, causing him to laugh and then wince. “Mr. Stark! You’re awake!” The teen exclaimed, jumping up to hug his, pulling back at the last second to spare his ribs.

“Hey, Pete.” He rasped, patting the teens back.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Peter said, slightly shakily.

“Yeah, me too.”

That had been two weeks ago, Tony later found out that he had been out for a week before he woke up, and according to Natasha, who had been keeping tabs on Peter for him, claimed he hadn’t left the corner since Tony had been brought in except to use the bathroom. They had barely been able to convince him to eat apparently, and even then, he had remained upside down. He glanced curiously at the teen, who had since returned to ground level, and was now laying across the couch doing what looked like math homework.

“Mr. Stark, can you check my work?” Peter asked, thrusting his notebook under the mechanic’s nose between his eyes and his phone. Snickering he looked it over.

“X=1/Ga2+2abG+ab2-1. Looks right to me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark!” Peter said, bouncing up, probably to the kitchen.

“Hey Peter, why was it you stayed upside down that whole week?” Tony asked before he could stop himself. The superhero froze, turning back to him.

“I um, I was worried.” Peter supplied.

“I got that bit Peter, what does that have to do with you staying on the ceiling,” Tony questioned.

“Well, I gotta go, places to swing, homework to do. Bye, Mr. Stark!” Peter yelled, before quite literally throwing himself out the window. On the 57th floor.

“Peter Parker get back here! Peter!” Tony called fruitlessly at the window. “FRIDAY, will you make sure Peter gets back before dinner, I need some time to lecture him.”

“Certainly, boss.” The AI replied smoothly. “Would you like to monitor his vitals while he is away?”

“No thanks Fri, but keep me up to date on those, and will you please deactivate the blocking code he put in last month?” He asked exasperatedly.

“Sir, I am afraid you do not have the authority to deactivate the coding placed by Peter Benjamin Parker,” FRIDAY answered, and Tony could have sworn she sounded amused.

“What do you mean I don’t have the authority? I created you?” He asked indignantly.

“The percent of coding done by Peter Parker surpassed 11%, meaning that it activated the ‘I am so dead’ protocol, installed last January,” FRIDAY informed.

“Let me guess, installed by Peter Parker?” He asked.

“That is correct sir. Would you like me to contact him in regards to your newfound knowledge?” The AI asked.

“No, that’s okay.” He muttered reluctantly. He was sure he would find out his answer sooner or later, there was no point in making the kid sweat in the meantime.

“Will that be all?” FRIDAY asked, and Tony swore she sounded exasperated this time. He would have to look at the coding to see if this was part of what the teen had coded.

“Yes, thanks Fri.”

0o0o0o0o

Tony must have dozed off because he woke to the sound of glass breaking and a quiet curse. A few moments later he heard FRIDAY ding in recognition that Peter had entered the building. He had programmed a different noise for every resident, so he could discern who it was that had done what.

“Peter?” He called, his voice still slightly groggy. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” He heard from the other room. “I’m just gonna go… do homework now… bye.” Tony heard the kid sprint up the stairs faster than he should have been able to. The kid’s speed never ceases to amaze and annoy him. “FRIDAY, is Peter really doing homework?” He asked his AI suspiciously.

“Peter Parker has informed me to tell you that he is ‘doing schooly things’ and to not come upstairs.”

“Okay, but what is he actually doing?”

“My programming forbids me from telling you. I can only inform you that he is not in immediate danger of dying.” The AI said smugly.

“Gaaaah! Fine, guess I’ll go check on him like a normal person,” he muttered grumpily. He was going to need to change his passwords to, well, basically everything. He had no idea how he had found them out though, it was a sequence of random letters and numbers that were over 17 characters long. He muttered to himself as he walked up the stairs. His leg had healed surprisingly quickly, and the bones were already fused together, though still delicate, and his ribs were close to normal. Or he was just so used to broken ribs that the pain didn’t bother him too much.

“Peter?” He asked, knocking on the teen’s door. “FRIDAY is revolting against me and won’t tell me what you’re up to. Mind if I come in?” Peter made a non-committed noise, which he took as permission and swung the door open. He found Peter sitting cross-legged on his bed, stitching a gash on his arm.

“What happened!” He exclaimed, rushing over to investigate the injury.

“Nothing. Just a mugger who got a lucky swing in.” Peter said, avoiding his eyes.

“You can’t lie to save your life kid, what really happened. There’s no way one mugger could do this.” Tony retaliated.

“I never said it was one mugger, I said A mugger.”

“Okay, so how many muggers where there?” He asked the stubborn teen, who muttered something at his bedspread.

“What did you say?”

“I said there were 6… ish…”

“Ish? What does that even mean Pete?” He asked, giving the arm back to the teen to finish stitching. He knew that there was no way Peter would actually follow him into the med bay, and he couldn't afford to let him get injured again.

“ I dunno, they were moving pretty fast. Anyway, one of them had throwing knives and he threw like, one gillion at me at once, and I apparently can’t dodge all of them at the same time, so…” He tailed off, gesturing to his arm, which he had finished stitching and was now tied up.

“Peter, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? And I couldn’t even check on you because of your stupid extra codding you added to FRIDAY. You could have died and there would have been no way for me to know or help you.” He said angrily. He could feel the frustration bubbling inside of him. He had given FRIDAY the codding he had for a reason.

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to come after me.” Peter retorted he seemed more and more upset as their conversation went on.

“It doesn't matter what you want Pete, I am doing what I need to do to keep you alive,” Tony said.

“So am I! You almost died 14 days ago Mr. Stark, and you aren't enhanced at all! Your bones are barley fused together! You ain't even supposed to be walking, let alone deciding I need rescuing every time I get a scratch.”

“This,” Tony gestured to Peter’s arm, now wrapped in gauze, “Is not a scratch. It’s a huge gash that would have caused a normal person to bleed out!”

“A normal person like you?” Peter responded, venom in his voice.

“You don’t know that I wouldn’t have sent a suit.” He replied, feeling more than a little childish.

“Yes! Yes, I do, because for some reason, when it comes to me you are always doing stupid things!” Peter’s voice raised, shaking slightly.

“Oh, I’m the one doing stupid things now? Because last time I checked you were the one who-”

“It doesn't matter!” Peter cut him off. “Because I literally can’t die from injuries! At least not anything a normal person would die from. I can hold things that would crush your suit in a second flat! I’ve been spiderman-ing before I had your suit and technology and I am fine!”

“Just because they haven't killed you doesn't mean they haven't come close.” Tony retorted.

“Well if they came close to killing me then I don’t want you anywhere near them,” Peter replied.

“Do you even hear yourself right now? You are a child Peter!”

“I’m a mutant! I can take care of myself! You clearly can’t!”

“Why do you even give a shit Peter? I’m not your father!” Tony yelled back. They both froze. “Peter…” He started reaching out, only to have Peter jerk away from his hand. The teenager grabbed a bag on top of his dresser and made his way to the window. “Peter!” he called again, trying to get his attention.

“Goodbye, Antony,” Peter said, venom in his voice, before jumping out the window, straight onto the sidewalk below. He looked blankly at the window for a few moments, before hearing a cough in the doorway. He whipped around to see Pepper standing there, a glare firmly on her face.

“You have a meeting in 15 minutes. Floor 39.” Was all she said, pivoting on her high heel.

“Wait, Pep, you don't understand, he-” He started, walking towards the blond. The moment he crossed through Peter’s doorway, however, FRIDAY cut him off.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, had left bedroom #3701.” the AI said in a cold voice.

“What…?” He slowly retraced his steps, walking back through the doorway.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, has entered the bedroom #3701.” The AI said.

“Tony, stop playing and hurry up.” Pepper’s cold voice said from down the hallway.

“Yeah, coming. FRIDAY, stop that.” He said.

“Right away, Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Phalanthripist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict.” The AI responded.

“I hate you.” He said, walking through the doorway again.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, had exited room # 3701.” He sighed, dropping his head. This was going to be a long day.

0o0o0o0o

By the time Tony made it to the meeting, he was seriously contemplating having all doorways removed. He hadn’t really understood exactly how many there were in the house until now.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, poorly groomed, undignified scoundrel, former mathlete, and butthead, has entered the meeting room #63,” FRIDAY informed the businessmen and women as he walked into the room.

“Butthead? Really Fri?” He asked the ceiling. Technically he could ask the cameras, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him where he had placed them, which was a bit of a problem.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stark, are you ready to start now?” One of the business women asked, looking like she was trying to not smile.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get started.” He said, resigned to the meeting from hell. Thankfully, five, and a half freaking hours later, with two more to go, Pepper rescued him.

“Tony, I need to talk to you.” She said, materializing in the doorway.

“Thank goodness,” He said, jumping up.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, has exited meeting room #63.”

“Thank you FRIDAY, so much for that,” Tony said sarcastically.

“Tony, have you heard anything from Peter?” She asked urgently.

“Not since you dragged me here, why?” He asked confused.

“Because nobody can get in touch with him, it’s been hours, past one actually, we’ve tried tracking his suit and everything, but not even Shuri can find him, and she put a tracker under his skin.”

“What? When?” he asked.

“Not nearly the most important part of anything I just told you, Tony. He could be hurt somewhere.” Pepper said, her voice tight.

“Okay, I'll get the team on it Pep.” He soothed.

“You had better.” She said, threateningly.

0o0o0o0o

“Hey, Steve?” Natasha called from the living room, “Have you heard from Peter?”

“No. Why, he did something stupid?” He replied, popping his head in.

“Maybe, I just got a text from him.” She held up her phone to show him, her voice tight with worry.

“ um, ‘Sorry, I had a fight with Tony, nobody’s dead (Yet) hope I can see you soon, Love Peter’ What does that mean?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

“I dunno, but it gives me a bad feeling. Look, it’s not from his phone, it’s from a burner. I tried tracking in already, a dead end. He either threw it into the ocean or made us think he did.”

“What could he and Tony possibly have fought about that would make him take off like this? I don’t know if I have ever seen them fight, not really anyway.”

Natasha thought for a moment, biting her lip, before calling to the ceiling. “Hey Fri, can you show us what they were fighting about?” She asked. Surprisingly, the scream across from her light up with footage from Peter’s bedroom. “Is she allowed to do that?” Steve asked.

“I am not currently taking orders from Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieos, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, and jerk, right now.” The AI informed. The pair watched the fight play out on the screen in silence, shocked by the anger in both parties voiced. Peter flying out the window with a duffle bag was the last thing they saw before the image cut out.

“Shit, FRIDAY, can you tell me anything about Peter’s location?” Natasha asked the ceiling.

“He has asked I do not disclose that information to anyone,” FRIDAY informed.

“Please FRIDAY, I won’t tell Tony, but that kid shouldn’t be alone right now.” The AI was quiet for a moment, seeming to think about it, before replying.

“I can not tell you his location, but I believe that both Michell Johns and Ned Leeds may be able to help you, would you like me to contact them?”

“Yes!” Steve replied enthusiastically. The TV showed a call symbol for a minute before a female voice answered.

“Who the hell is calling me at One AM?” She asked.

“Hello ma’am, are you a friend of Peter’s?” Steve asked.

“Shit, what did he do?” She asked, sounding more awake.

“He ran away. We were hoping you could help us find him.” Natasha supplied. The line was silent for a moment.

“Meet me at Juniper Park. I need to see your faces before I help you. I’ll be there in 30 minutes. Don’t be late.” With that the line went dead, leaving the two in silence.

“I think we might need back up,” Steve said quietly.

“I’ll gather the team.” She said with a smirk, turning on her heel. Exactly 35 minutes later, Thor, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, and Bruce were gathered in front of the locked gate to Juniper Park, waiting patiently.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of prank?” Bucky asked.

“She didn’t sound like she was messing around,” Steve replied.

“You’re waiting outside the park? Lame.” A voice called from behind them. They whipped around to see a girl who looked at Peter’s age, wearing a black NASA hoodie and dark jeans.

“How’d you get in there?” Clint asked, looking slightly off-put. In response, the girl slipped through the bars of the gate.

“Really, it is more of a visual barrier. So, what do you need me to do?” She asked, stepping under the street light.

“We need to find Peter. He and Tony had a fight, and he isn’t at Neds. he’s been gone for almost 9 hours now.” Bruce informed his voice somewhere between worried and just straight up groggy.

“They had a fight… do you have FRIDAY’s footage?” she asked.

“I- Um… yeah… How’d you know about that?” Steve asked, handing over the laptop.

“I have my ways,” she replied. “I’m assuming no Spiderman sightings ether then?”

“What would that have to do with it?” Clint asked frantically, at the same time Bucky said: “How do you know about that?”

Steve smacked him on his arm while MJ raised an eyebrow. “He’s not exactly discreet, the whole school has a group chat about it, sanes him, Ned and Flash, of course.”

“Hm,” Bruce said. MJ turned her attention to the tablet that had been handed to her, watching the footage intensely. It ended, and after a moment, she looked up at them.

“I know where he is.”

“Really? From that? How could that be, mid-guardian?” Thor asked, his voice, while still loud, was quieter than normal. He really wasn’t much of a night person, and Natasha was surprised he had actually stayed awake this long. “He’s got a couple of go-to places for different things, I just needed to know which had happened.” She said.

“You mean he does this a lot?” Bruce questioned.

“Mhm,” MJ replied, handing back the tablet.

“Well, what other reasons does he run away?” Steve asked, his brow furrowed.

“Death, Flash, if he’s sick- which was unfortunate that time with pneumonia, different kinds of fights with different people, etc.” The teen said, whipping around and walking down the road. After a moment she turned back. “Are you guys coming or what?” She asked. They hurried to catch up to her.

“So, why are you the one who finds him?” Natasha asked, falling in stride beside MJ.

“Well, it’s either me or Ned, and he’s not exactly the most tactful,” She elaborated. “Or agile.”

“Why agile?” She asked, her brow raised.

“You’ll see.” She replied mysteriously. “So Peter’s been living with you for a while?”

“At the compound with all of us, yes he has, why do you ask?” The assassin asked.

“Just checking. We’re here.” The teen said, pausing. Natasha looked around with the rest of them. They were standing on a somewhat deserted backstreet somewhere in Queens, with a tall wall to their right and a street there left.

“Where is ‘here’?” Steve asked. Instead of responding

“Yeah, I don’t see Spider-kid anywhere,” Clint added. MJ just shot them a look, before setting down her backpack on the ground and grabbing a grove in the wall.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” With that, she kicked off the ground, and using her old on the rock wall, launched herself over.

“What is it with Peter and his freaky strong friends?” Bucky asked, staring at where the teen used to be.

“So, we’re following her, right?” Clint asked, looking up at the wall.

“Obviously. Bucky and Clint, you’re with me, you guys stay here.” Natasha said, dropping her purse.

“Why do they get to go?” Steve asked, sounding like a whiny kid. “Aren’t I the captain here?”

“I’m sorry, are you a trained assassin?” She asked, scaling the wall before he could reply. She jumped to the other side and felt her heart sink.

“Of course,” Clint whispered next to her. In front of them was a sign that read ‘Maple Grove Cemetery’.

“Well, I found them,” Bucky said, pointing to a building across the land, where they could see the two figures silhouetted on top of the roof.

“We should go back,” Clint said, shifting from one foot to the other. Natasha nodded in agreement and was back over the wall not a second later.

“Well?” Steve asked expectantly.

“There in a graveyard.” She said.

“A graveyard? The one his parents are buried in?” Bruce asked, confused.

“Presumably.” She replied.

“And his aunt and uncle,” Clint said, pulling them up on a tablet. Online it showed four traditional headstones, all in varying states of wear, along with four others, presumably his grandparents.

“Jeez, life hasn’t been kind to the Parkers, has it?” Bruce said, looking sadly at the headstones online.

“Peter call’s it ‘Parker Luck’” Natasha said sadly. They stood in silence for a minute before all of their phones dinged simultaneously. Steve pulled his phone out and stared at the text for a second.

“MJ says that Peter’s staying at her house tonight, and she’ll contact us tomorrow.” He read.

“Should we go back?�� Bucky asked.

“Probably, it’s almost three,” Bruce said, looking at his watch.

“You guy go ahead,” Natasha said, looking over her shoulder at the mossy wall that MJ had disappeared from.

“You sure?” Steve asked. “It’s pretty late.”

“I think I can handle myself, Rodgers, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Reluctantly, the team said a ‘Goodnight’ before turning down the road. She inspected the wall as she heard the footsteps fade. The place that MJ had used to jump was worn down, and a much lighter color. She wondered daily if other’s used the shortcut as well. She hoped they did because even without doing the math, the number of visits it would take for one person to wear down that wall was depressingly large. Shaking her head, she jumped over, landing almost silently on the other side. She picked her way through the graves slowly, reading each headstone she came across, until finding herself faced with the Parker section. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground in front of them, wincing as the cold from the ground seeped through her jeans.

“We’re gonna protect him for you.” She promised, before leaving to join her team.

0o0o0o0o

Tony woke up feeling guilty before he had any memories of what he had done. He rolled over, and winced, remembering the fight from yesterday. He had spent most of the night trying to disable the coding that the teenager had put, preventing his face from being detected on cameras. He could at least tell he hadn’t been in his suit, it hadn’t recorded any activity sense the mugging that had started the fight in the first place. Groning, he pulled himself out of the bed and stumbled out the door, intending to check to see if Peter had made it back yet. Logically he knew that the kid wouldn’t get himself killed in one night, and he was probably just at Ned’s, but the rest of him remembered the time he had followed him to Indonesia my sticking himself to the bottom of the plane for hours.

“Who is telling these to you?” He shouted at the roof.

“Sense my creation, I have had a document in which I keep the most creative insults aimed at you or that apply to you. Would you like to know the length of the document?” She asked, and Tony swore if she had a face, she would be smirking.

“No, I think I can guess.”

“It is currently 1,36-”

“I said I’m fine.” He said, angrily. “Has Peter come back yet?”

“Peter Parker hasn’t re-entered the building, however, a Michell Jones has asked me to inform you that he is still alive, and will be returning to the tower at some point before the end of the year .” The AI said. “Wow, super helpful.” In response, FRIDAY activated the fire sprinkler above his head.

“Was that, bleh, really necessary?” He asked, wincing when the water got in his mouth.

“Yes.” The robotic voice replied. He was about to respond with a very clever retort when his phone rang. He pulled it out, so he could decline, except FRIDAY had different ideas. “Call answered.” She said, his phone responded.

“Ugh, hello?” He asked, not exceptionally worried about who it was.

“Is Tony Stark speaking?” A female voice asked, her tone clipped.

“Yep, who is this?”

“Hello, I am calling to inform you that, subject to you apologizing, Peter Parker is willing to return to his room.”

“Yes! Yes, can you ask him to call me? Please? My AI won’t let me call him.” he asked, his demeanor changing. He was fully aware of how pathetic he sounded, admitting that he couldn’t get his own AI to respect him, but he honestly couldn’t care less.

“Fine, I can tell him, but I can’t promise anything.” with that the call ended, and he, having retrieved his coffee, turned to re-enter his bedroom.

“Antony Edward Stark, Billionaire, Playboy, Genieas, Philanthropist, a former father figure to Peter Parker, engineer, caffeine addict, betrayer, butthead, ignorant bastard, jerk, self-absorbed shriveled walnut, himbo, eater of aerosol cheese, a fan of AC/DC, vulture pray, sole reason for the creation of the middle finger, cotton-headed Ninny Muggins, a mostly raisin raisin oatmeal cookie, creator of rhubarb vegetable steamer, chihuahua with hormone deficiency, oddly lumpy blobfish, had entered his bedroom,” FRIDAY called.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” He said, resigned, staring at his phone. Several minutes later, he heard it ring, and he briefly saw Peter’s name flash across the screen, before answering. “Hello?” He asked urgently.

“Hey, Mr. Stark…” Peter’s voice cracked through the speaker, reminding him that, oh wait, Peter’s phone was apparently intended to be at the bottom of the ocean. “Peter, hey, um… are you okay?” He asked hesitantly, unsure of how to continue.

“Yeah, um, my arm’s healed and everything so, that's good.”

“Good, good, I’m glad.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what would follow. “Listen, Peter, I’m really sorry about, well, everything. I was outta line with what I said, I should have been more patient with you instead of escalating everything, I'm sorry.” The line was silent for several moments, making him wonder if the kid has somehow hung up without him knowing. He was about to pull the phone away to check when he heard Peter take a breath. “I forgive you. I-Is it okay if I come back? MJ made me share a room with her little brother and I woke up covered in Crayola paint.” The teen asked.

“Of course it’s okay for you to come back. I didn’t want you to leave in the first place. Do you want me to come to pick you up?” He asked.

“No, traffic will be terrible, I’ll just swing over,” Peter replied.

“Okay kid, stay safe.” He said.

“HA!” Peter replied through the phone, before hanging up. Tony smiled before setting his phone down. Not 10 minutes later, Peter, dressed in his suit, knocked on the window. Tony let him in quickly, smiling at his slightly uncoordinated movements.

“Hi Mr. Stark,” Peter said, pulling off his mast. Tony had to use remarkable self-restraint to keep from laughing at his hair, which still had a slight blue tint to it, and was sticking up all over the place.’ “Hey, kid.” He said, ruffling his hair, making it stick up even more.

“I’m really sorry.” He said, looking upset.

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you’re a teen, you get to say that kinda shit.” He said. “Come on, I think we need pancakes.” He declared. “Go get changed and meet me at the elevator.”

“Okay,” Peter said, walking out towards his room. Tony followed him out.

“Wait, Peter, do you know how to make her stop?” Tony asked the teen, who had burst out laughing.

“Okay Fri, I think you taught him a lesson by now.” Peter said to the ceiling, “You can stop now.”

“Of course, Peter. Happy to oblige.” The AI said happily.

“TRAITOR!” He called at the ceiling, which resulted in him getting doused again.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, walking back to his room to towel off. Still, he had trouble keeping a grin off his face. A couple of moments later, he was inside the elevator, whizzing down. Due to the number of floors, he had sped the elevators up considerably. Also, he was impatient.

“Hey kid,” He asked, “Why were you sleeping on the ceiling when I was out?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, that. Umm, well, when Bed was shot, they took him to the hospital, and he was in a coma and stuff, and I was sleeping in a chair there, and his heart stopped, and I couldn’t stop getting in the doctor’s way. Anyway, I was worried that would happen to you, so I stayed on the ceiling.” Peter explained, keeping his gaze firmly down.

“Of course, of course, that was the reason,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around the kid. He swore he was getting more grey hair every time he opened his mouth.

#tony stark #bamf peter parker #FRIDAY

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yeeter-parkor · 5 years ago

Text

Training is hard when you don't wanna hit people...

peter is to pure for this world.

read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610966

summery: Peter Parker is too strong for his own good, and he holds himself back so much that Natasha and Steve have no idea what he is really capable of. Natasha decides she needs to fix that.

“Peter, come here a moment,” Natasha said, her voice commanding, causing Peter to tense slightly. They had just found out about him being Spiderman after the bridge incident, and they hadn’t seemed to be thrilled about it. To be completely fair, they were perfectly nice to him, but they hadn’t been the most forgiving of Mr. Stark allowing him to join as they might have let on if the dead frogs in the lab were anything to go by.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, scurrying over to where she was standing and looked at her, searching for clues as to what they were about to do.

“Me and Steve have decided that, contrary to popular belief, we will not be killing Stark, yet.”

“But,” Steve interjected, “you are going to have to prove to us first that you can keep yourself safe out there.”

“But sir I-”

“No but’s, your sparring with me first, then Steve, okay. If we don’t beat you to bad then we will consider letting you go out on your own again.”

“Have… Have I not been?”

“No. Go get changed and meet us in the training room.”

He scampered off, socked feet sliding slightly on the tile floors, which he was sure wasn’t helping them take him seriously, but he was honestly so excited he didn’t care. He knew he was stronger than both of them, so he would have to hold back quite a bit, but at least they would have to take him seriously then. He threw on a black tee and shorts with leggings underneath, helpful when you do a lot of flips, and hurried back down, trying to set his face to look as grown-up as possible, he didn’t want them holding back because he was a kid.

Clearly, his attempt at looking mature hadn’t worked as well as he had hoped, because Steve chuckled when he re-appeared.

“What?” He asked, probably sounding majorly winey.

“I like your socks.” Was all the soldier said, reminding him that he was still wearing Spongebob socks. He cleared his throat, trying his hardest to not blush, which he had a feeling wasn’t working, as he slipped on his sparring shoes.

“Peter, are you ready?” Natasha asked impatiently from the mat.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, scrambling over to her, and ignoring Steve’s laughter.

“Good. We’re going to start easy, alright? Just try to block this time, no need to attack, okay? We’ll go for three minutes. ” “Got it!” He exclaimed, resisting the urge to bounce on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t help being excited, he loved sparring. The chance to get moving and work out some pent up energy, without the chance of being shot was great.

“Go!” Steve yelled from the side.

Wasting no time, Natasha took a jab straight at his head with a high roundhouse kick, which he leaped away from with ease. She was holding back, but clearly not my much, and allowed her swings to carry more weight as the fight went on. Not that it affected Peter though, he hadn’t even gotten close to being hit.

“Peter, keep your feet steady!” He heard Steve call, a worried tilt to his voice. Peter just grinned. Because of that, he was going to do everything in his power to stay off his feet. He flipped and spun and dogged for the whole three minutes, and Natasha hadn’t even gotten close to hitting him. He could see a mix of pride and frustration on her face as the bell rang.

“Okay Peter, this time you attack me. Remember, I spar with Steve all the time, I can take a hit.”

He looked at her dubiously. He wasn’t positive he could kill her with one hit, but he was, and he could.

The bell rang again before he had time to protest, and Nat jumped into a defensive stance. Reluctantly, he started the match, being sure to pull his punches as much as possible without them noticing, which wasn’t really working all that well.

“Come on Peter, you need to get a hit in,” Steve called again.

“Hmmph.” He huffed, putting most of his focus on not hurting his friend, but he did speed his swings up enough to startle the assassin, who was having a difficult time blocking all of them. By the end of the round, Peter had albeit unintentionally, gotten almost a dozen hits in.

“Okay Nat, you ready to switch out yet?” Steve called. Peter watched as she seemed to weigh her choices for a moment.

“Peter, if I spare with you again, will you actually try and hit me?” She asked.

“I um, I don’t think I will hit either of you.” He said honestly.

“Yeah, let’s switch.” She called, climbing over the mat rail.

Peter watched silently as Steve took her place, shifting anxiously. He saw Natasha pull Steve’s ear to her lips and whisper something.

“Don’t go easy on him, he’s stronger than he’ll let on. I want to see him really attack.”

Suddenly, Steve was in Natasha’s place, staring at him with icy (Ha) blue eyes, analytical and hard. It was his fighting face, not angry, but by no means soft ether. Peter had only a second to register the ring of the starting bell before Steve was lunging at him. Aiming straight for his head. Peter’s spidey senses screamed as he flipped away, dodging and ducking only slightly faster then Steve was swinging. He had learned it a few months ago, when a petty criminal got wise, after seeing Peter operate at his full speed. He ended up okay but had a massive scar on his side. He almost matched Steve’s pace, making sure that he still didn’t know his real speed.

“Come on Pete, you gotta punch back,” Steve grunted, already sweating.

“I think I’m good, thanks.” He said, trying and failing to sound tired.

Peter ducked, allowing Cap to make contact with his shoulder for a moment, seeing the frustration growing behind his eyes.

“Peter, stop letting him win, we need to see what you can do if you expect us to let you out again,” Natasha said from the sidelines.

“He is not letting me win,” Steve said indignantly, “I’ve barely hit him.”

“Look at him Steve, Pete, you haven't even broken a sweat, I need to see how capable you are or this will be a waste of everyone's time.”

Her words stung a bit, so Peter revised him plane of tiring Steve out. He caught Natasha’s eye, and she nodded approvingly, seeming to understand his silent request for permission. The next time Steve swung at him, he didn’t duck, but instead caught his fist and used to flip himself over Steve’s back and kicked him hard. Not hard enough to kill him, obviously, but hard enough to send him flying across the gym. Everyone was silent for a moment, Peters eyes wide. “I am so sorry!” Peter exclaimed, running to where Steve had landed. He was already picking himself up, wincing.

“Don’t apologize, Peter, that was exactly what I wanted,” Natasha said. Her expression never changes, but Peter swore that he saw pride in her eyes.

“You wanted that?” he asked, pointing to the (rather large) crater that Steve had made where he collided.

“Well, maybe not that specifically, but I wanted to see how hard you could hit, although I am guessing by your appearance you are still holding back.” She amended.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, indignantly.

“You aren't tired or sore at all, and you seemed way to calm when you kicked him over here, almost bored.” Peter paled at that, he hadn’t wanted to offend them.

“I-I’m not bored, I swear.” He said.

“Yeah, sure. Steve, will you get Thor, and Tony please, I want them here.” Natasha said, directing her words to Steve, who had sense picked himself up from the floor, although looking slightly worse for the wear. Peter winced at the bruise blossoming on his temple.

“Yeah yeah, I’m on it.” He said, turning.

“And get some ice, the kid gave you a good bruise.”

“Sorry!” Peter shouted after the grumpy soldier as Natasha chuckled.

“Don’t apologize, Peter, someone needs to bring his ego down a notch.” The redhead said with a smirk. “Besides, he can take a hit. Tony’s wall, however…”

He was about to apologize when Steve returned with the other two in tow.

“Okay, guys, come here,” Natasha said, walking over to a screen near the far right wall from Peter. “FRIDAY can you play the footage of Peter and Steve from 3 and a half minutes ago?” Natasha asked. FRIDAY obliged, showing the two of them sparring on the screen for about 30 seconds before Peter kicks him. He snuck a glance at Tony, trying to gauge his reaction, he at least didn’t seem mad they were sparing, if anything he looked amused. Onscreen Natasha nods, and screen Peter kicks screen, Steve, causing Tony to laugh in a not-very-professional fashion.

“Look mid-guardian, the child kicked you!” Thor said happily.

“Yes Thor, I am aware,” Steve responded.

“Aw, why so salty Cap? You finally believe me that Pete can kick your ass? Or just past your bedtime?”

“Boys!” Natasha interjected. “The point of this exercise was to get a good idea of Peter’s abilities, but it was made clear that Cap was not as good a match as we had hoped he would be, so I was hoping that Thor would be willing to spar with him.”

“Are you sure that is wise, women of spiders, I do not wish to harm him.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Tony said, “He may not be an even match with Thor, but I think he will be fine.”

“Good enough for me.” Natasha said, “Just try not to kill him, will you Thor.”

“I would never kill a child.”

“Okay, still not a child,” Peter said quietly.

“You’re 15 Peter, that is child aged,” Steve said.

“Weren't you applying to the military when-” Peter started, only to be shoved onto the matt and hear the bell ring.

“Okay go!” Steve said loudly, causing a laugh from Tony and a suspicious glare from Natasha.

Thor swung at Peter with almost twice the force Steve had used, and Peter immediately realized that Thor would beat him if they used pure strength, although not by much. He could tell the Asgardian was holding back still. Of course, Peter still had the advantage of his speed and sticky-ness, which he planned on using to his full potential. They fought for a solid half an hour before he could sense the others getting bored. Peter hadn’t been hit once, but he hadn’t hit his opponent ether. Thor had also grown frustrated, letting more and more of his power fall into each missed blow.

Finally, Peter was starting to actually feel tired, which was nice. He actually enjoyed not having to constantly be monitoring his strength in a fight. Except by now Thor was panting, and clearly fed up, and Peter had a feeling that they were moments away from a hurricane if this fight didn’t end. He glanced at Tony and Natasha again, making eye contact as they both nodded their approval, Natasha looking stern, whereas Tony was downright gleeful. With their approval, Peter aught Thor's next missed punch before he had been given a chance to recover, using in to swing himself over, causing Thor to lose his footing and get launched over Peter’s head. He landed with a residual thud and everyone stood quiet for a moment, the only sound being Peter and Thor's loud breaths. Until they heard a ding coming from FRIDAY

“Footage saved” Which sent all of them into laughter.

“Good job, man of spiders, you fought well. I am glad we are on the same side in battle.” Thor said, rising from the floor which was now definitely dented . Peter looked up at the other three, smiling slightly at their expressions. Natasha was smiling, Steve looked completely dumbfounded, and Tony- Well Tony looked happier then Peter had seen him since Clint accidentally ate a frog head. “So… can I go out on patrols again?” Peter asked them hopefully.

“Yeah kid, I don’t think there’s a criminal in the city that could take you,” Steve said, almost causing Peter to bring up Rooms, but he bit his lip.

“Hey FRIDAY, you saved both those fights to my training file, right?” Tony called to the ceiling.

“Yes, and the first one can also be found in ‘Capsicle Is Melting’”

“Good. good job kid.” Tony said. Peter didn’t think he stopped smiling the rest of the day.

#bamf peter parker

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yeeter-parkor · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t get between a mama spider and her baby.

Natasha is highly protective.

read it on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21578419/chapters/51447373

Summery: Natasha had killed dozens of people before, murdered ruthlessly to get her mission accomplished, so when someone injured her (yes her) kid, they would have hell to pay. TL;DR: someone wanted Mama Spider and Baby Spider so I wrote angst and then some fluff and then a dash of murder- enjoy!

Natasha had seen lots of people bruised and bloody before, hell she had murdered plenty of people, so blood shouldn’t fas her, so she didn’t understand why she felt such an ache in her chest when she saw Peter walked in the door from school with a myriad of colorful bruises covering every inch of the teens exposed skin, and if the way he was walking was any indication, they extended to under his hoodie. He walked with a slight limp and seemed to be trying to make a beeline to his room- as if she would allow this to go unexplained. Still, she knew from personal experience that pushing too hard to fast would make the tiny spider clam up. Despite the fact that he was only Starks kid legally, they shared several qualities, geniuses who tried to hide every negative emotion and had a tendency to randomly gift people things with no context, (She had woken up to little wrapped gifts on multiple occasions when she had been having a bad day, with no note or acknowledgment, not that it was hard to figure out.) She, however, couldn’t help but wince when she saw the tears on his face catch the light before he disappeared down the hallway.

She didn’t know who had decided that she should comfort the baby spider, but Tony was in Japan at the moment, and she knew that she couldn’t just let him sulk in silence, which she was well aware he did far too much anyway (FRIDAY was very helpful in informing her which teammates needed to be distracted from a battle, patrol gone wrong, nightmare, Etc.) So, she held her book, white-knuckled as she stared at the clock, waiting for the appropriate amount of time to pass before intruding on the teen, finally, after three minutes and 47 seconds to long without information, she dog-eared her page, and slowly rose, padding to his door. She took care to walk on the heels of her feet, despite the fact that it rebelled against literally everything instinct she had had drilled into her because right now she actually wanted him to hear her footsteps. He probably could tell she was modifying her walk, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she rationed.

Sooner than she had anticipated, the assassin was meet with the teen’s door, determinedly shut. Somehow, this part felt much, much harder than she had anticipated. Once she knocked, there was no turning back. Immediately, however, guilt and anger filled her, as she thought about the state of the poor teen when he had come in. Hell would freeze before she let someone get away with doing that to Peter. After all, spiders stick together. Or eat each other, but she was choosing to focus on the spirit of it. Finally, after 10 long seconds of internal monologuing, she raised a hand, knocking three times, quick and concise.

“Come in.” Peters’s voice said, sounding shaky and far to quiet for the buy she was used to. He clearly did not have his boundless energy after whatever fight had happened.

“Peter…” Now that she had a good look at him, she really was at a loss for words, he had taken the hoodie off, clearly, and it lay crumpled on the floor, stained red from some of the places that looked like a boot had broken his skin. His hair had been matted with blood, which seemed to still be running down from his scalp in a slow trickle that made her stomach twist. The worst thing though, the worst thing was his face. He looked dejected and, well scared. An emotion that he went to great lengths to hide, and he did so to the extent that seeing it was disconcerting for her to finally see displayed so openly. “What happened?”

“Fight,” he said, now that she was closer, she could hear that his words were clipped and tense, as though he was trying to hold back the emotion in them.

“Hmm.” She hummed. “I think you have to punch back for it to be a fight.”

He just looked down at his dark blue comforter, keeping his eyes completely focused on an imaginary piece of dust.

“Well, come on then.” She said, standing and walking to the bathroom.

“What?” He asked with a raspy voice.

“I need to clean you up because if those get infected you are gonna be in a world of hurt.”

He just looked at his lap again “Okay.”

“And you are explaining this to me,” she demanded because she knew it wasn’t the best tactic but as she looked at the bruises, she felt anger swelling up in her. She had never heard the kid so damn quiet before, and for some reason, it was more disturbing than any of the bruises.

Silently. She tugged the shirt off of him, which was easy, as he was floppy and compliant. She had seen Steve like this several times before, their crazy super healing kicking in and draining them of energy. When Steve did it, she would tease him relentlessly, however, it just added to her growing concern. Despite how hard she had tried, when she saw his core completely black and blue, with clear broken ribs, she couldn’t help but gasp threw her nose.

“Talk.” Was all she commanded, before setting to work on the teen. She took out the rubbing alcohol as he drew in a breath, wincing at the action.

“W-Well, I was at school right? And there was this kid named Flash…” he trailed off again, not seeming to remember the rest of the sentence.

“Doesn’t that count as child abuse, naming a kid that?” she quipped, and felt satisfied when she saw a smile tug at his busted lip, although winced when it caused a single drop of blood to roll down to his chin, which she quickly wiped away using a small pad of gauze.

“Well… he was making fun of my friend, MJ, I told you about her, remember?” he asked, clearly trying to drag out the conversation.

“Hmm, MJ the ‘super pretty really scary kinda badass who you are definitely asking out’ who put a dead chicken in his locker?”

“Ms. Nat! I never said I was going to ask her out!”

“Well you are, proceed,” she said smirking.

“Well um, he wouldn’t leave her alone, and normally she is really good at shutting that kind of thing down, but he was being like, really persistent and horrible and well… Hey!” he protested when she suddenly pressed rubbing alcohol to a fairly large cut on his side.

“Keep talking and I might warn you.”

“Anyway, he was going on and on about history, for some reason, and I guess there must have been something that happened that I didn’t know about, cuz we have different history teachers, because she just like, stormed off, which is not like her at all, yah know. Cuz i’m a superhero and I think she is braver than me… and then…”

“What did he say?” she interrupted, getting a sinking feeling in her gut.

“He asked her if her mom had made any more visits to the teacher to bump her grade up, which didn’t make sense, because it’s one of her best subjects. Well there all her best subjects, except for Cem, but I help her with that. Anyway, so she stomped off and I asked Flash what he said and why it made her so angry, and he kept saying things like, nothing, and I wouldn’t leave him alone, and then MJ came back and she had been crying and she slapped him like... Really hard, and then he tried to go after her, and then I stopped him and then we fought. And…”

“Wait, he did this to you?” She interjected, looking up from where she had been wrapping his ribs.

“No, well… yes… kinda… only part of it…ow! just like, let me finish, I swear it’ll make sense.”

“Okay.” She conceded, turning her attention back to his ribs which she was wrapping tighter then strictly necessary.

“So I let him beat me up a bit because like… what’s the worst he could do right? This is Flash, and so I let him get a few hits in and then act like I’ve had enough, and by then almost everyone had left but MJ hadn’t which was weird, because she usually rode the bus, a-and so I asked her what had happened, and the like… I dunno she just started crying and told me that her mom had been cheating o-on her dad b-because she was worried that MJ wouldn’t pass otherwise… even though she was like…. Acing everything, and she… it...”

“Peter.” She interjected, placing a hand on one of Peters as he wound a loose thread around one of his fingers hard enough to completely cut off the blood.

“A-Anyway, so I was like… upset, and I went to go yell at the teacher, when he just like… totally flipped and started hitting me with a hole punch, and he wasn’t enhanced or anything so I couldn’t fight back without accidentally hurting or maybe even killing his so i just… let him hit me…”

“A not enhanced man couldn’t do this Peter.”

“Well… after all that I was going to walk home, after checking on MJ… of course, but then Flash saw me again and we started fighting because of what he said to MJ a-and he um… he managed to uh, to find out about May a-and he… well… he just kept talking about her and saying like, really, really just like… bad stuff and…” he stopped to draw in a shaky breath and tightening his eyelids to try and stop the tears from falling, which wasn’t very successful.

“Come here, Pete.” She said after a moment of thought, opening her arms wide to allow him to crawl into the hug as she repositiond herself, leaning against the headboard so that she could hug him better. He accepted happily, allowing her to tuck her chin over his head as he listened to her heart.”What did he say about her Pete?”

“H-he said up… well… he said that- that I wouldn’t ever be able to um, to stay at midtown now b-because now May w-wasn’t there to…” He cut himself off, burying his head deeper into her jacket, making her chest constrict with anger. She hadn’t killed anyone point-blank in a long time, but she was pretty sure that this was about to change.

“He shoved me into a car.”

“What! Peter! You could have lead with that! We need to get you scanned! You could be bleeding out internally right now!”

“I-I’m not I-I would be um, I can tell when i-it happens… ``I-I’m okay…”

“That pushed you in front of a car, why the hell didn’t you tell me that first?” She almost shouted, feeling the hot anger filling every inch of her.

“I’m s-s-sorry I j-just umm… I didn’t want you t-to be mad and um…”

She would be lying to say that she didn’t melt a little bit when she heard the way his voice shook. He was so young, so uncertain of how his would be perceived.

“Peter, I would never be angry at you for that, you know that don’t you?”

He gave a tearful nod, though not a very convincing as she felt the tears splash onto her shirt as he tightened his grip on her,

“I’m sorry Ma’am.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for Peter? I already told you that I’m not mad.” She asked, trying her very best to keep all of the venom out of her voice, which she didn’t think she was completely successful in doing biased on how Peter flinched into her.

“I um… I well, I fought with Flash a-and and Mr. Ria and um, Flash again…”

“Peter, you don’t have to apologize for being attacked. You just trying to protect your friend, and that is an admirable thing.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles into her shoulder.

“You’re welcome. What did you say flash’s whole name was again?”

“Ms. Nat!” He said, clearly guessing her intentions.

“I thought you mentioned it earlier, I swear!” She said, raising her hand a little and giggling along with the teen.

“His name is Eugene Flash Thompson.”

“Eugene Thompson!” She exclaimed, earning her a laugh from the injured teen, “A human being named their child Eugene Thompson? No wonder he’s such a little shit!”

“Yeah,” Peter said, seeming much more like himself, if not still a bit quiet, giving her an idea. There was only one thing that could make this quite in all the time she had known him.

“Come in, follow me,” she said, standing.

“Where are we going?” he asked quietly, but his interest was piqued.

“We are going to watch a movie, you choose,” she said, pulling him up. She felt guilty when she saw him wince at the motion, although not guilty enough to stop her from slinging an arm over his shoulder and steering him down the hall, careful to take as much of his weight as she could without appearing too obvious.

“Can we watch Star Wars?” he asked hopefully, his face lit up when she nodded.

“Sure. Go sit on the couch while I get popcorn.”

He walked over, keeping a hand firmly around his (More) injured side, as he moved, looking more than a little pained. However, he relaxed once he had settled into the couch, curling in on himself with his knees drawn up to his chin. She prodded him to unfurl so she could hand the popcorn over and pulled the boy against her as the opening soundtrack started. The poor kid really did try and stay awake for her, but by the time Yoda appeared he was long gone, his body tired from work that healing took. Which is the only reason that Clint was able to catch the photo, which he had now hung everywhere and posted on every media outlet that existed, of her and Peter, both sleeping peacefully on the couch as Jedi fought in the background, taken from a possible angle in the ceiling, telling her that he had snapped it from the vents.

When she looked back at it, seeing Peters sleeping face, which at that point was healed enough to not look alarming, if you hadn’t known the state he was in when he came in it would have looked just barely bruised. Looking at the photo, which she definitely didn’t frame and keep by her bed, she realized why it had bothered so much to see him that way, bloody and bruised. It was more than being unsettled by the break of an unwritten rule, that children would be safe at school, from both teachers and students, but as she saw how his sleeping body was curled into hers, so blindly trusting of her, Natasha realized that, even if Tony had been the one to sign the adoption papers, he was all of there kid, and they were never letting him go.

“ Joe Ria, I have been planning on meeting with you for a while.”

Pt 2

“Joe Ria, I have been planning on meeting you for a while,” Natasha said, coming up from behind the desk she had been hiding behind, as she held the gaze of the aforementioned adult in front of her. “Who are you?” he asked bluntly, clearly not feeling nearly as threatened as he should.

She punched him in the face.

“What the hell lady!” he exclaimed, looking almost comically surprised. It would never fail to amuse her how much her marks could underestimate a hit to the face from a woman.

“I believe you know Peter Parker?” she asked, not even trying to keep the venom from her voice now if she scared him so be it, it would only make the job more enjoyable.

“Yeah I know the brat, I teach him, I- W-what is that?” The man asked, stammering when he saw her pull out the needle she had kept concealed in her jacket sleeve.

“I told you I wanted to talk, so you’re gonna talk.”

0o0o0o0o

Peter woke up to his phone dinging insistently, causing him to jolt up. Upon checking it, he saw about 30 texts from Ned, as well as a few missed calls. He was about to check them when his phone rang again, causing him to groan at the sound before answering.

“Hello?” he asked groggily throw the phone.

“Peter! Ho-ly shit did you see the news! It’s insane! The school is closed for a week!”

“What? No, I didn’t, did something happen?”

“Um, yeah something happened! Pull it up on your phone, it was literally all over the news!”

“Okay, okay! Umm… polar bears, Mr. Stark, Ummm, oh shit!”

“Did you find it?” Ned asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” he said, hesitantly, his eyes scanning over the article, the headline glaring at him on the screen

Teacher arrested at local highschool when found tied up with video confession to beating student with a hole punch; attacker unknown.

“Can you believe it! They said that Mr. Ria is going to jail for like, years!”

“Yeah, you know what Ned, I’ve gotta go.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I think I know who did this.” He said, hanging up the phone on his friend’s indignant squeaks.

He sighed for a moment, blinking away a moment of vertigo from sitting up before swinging his legs over the side of his bed and padding down to the kitchen, where Natasha was sitting, looking rather smug while drinking her drip coffee.

“Did you kill my teacher?” He asked bluntly, causing all his teammates to turn their heads to the pair.

“You’re awake.” She stated instead, “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine, my teacher, however, is in the hospital.”

“So he survived,” she said, nonchalantly.

“Natasha, what did you do?” Steve asked, looking at her over the newspaper, wearing an expression that reminded Peter of Mike Wheeler’s father.

“I did what was necessary.”

The supersoldier scowled. “Is murder ever necessary?”

“Yes, in this instance it was Rogers.” She replied, her face taut with an unreadable expression.

They just stared for a moment, unsure how to respond to her, seemingly dumbstruck. They were silent for several minutes, until Peter’s phone rang again, startling them all. Peter answered it hurriedly, seeing it was Ned again. The rest of the team listened intently as they talked.

“What do you mean his parents are dead?” Peter asked through the phone.

“So he just thinks they’re dead?”

“Photos?” He exclaimed through the phone.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll call you back.” And such, Peter ended the conversation, shooting a glare at Natasha who looks not at all guilty.

“What happened?” Steve asked, despite most likely having heard the whole thing, with his enhanced ears and all.

“Mrs. Natasha, you can’t just send photos of a crime scene to a kid! He thinks his parents are dead and what did you do with his parents.”

“Relax. They’re on a cruise to Maui, he’ll see them again in two weeks.” The assassin answered smoothly.

“So he’s gonna think there dead for two weeks!”

“Yes, that was the plan.”

They all started for a moment, trying to process what she was saying.

“Natasha…” Steve started before she cut him off.

“Steve, that kid pushed Peter onto a busy road. He got run over by a semi-truck for fuck’s sake, I think my reaction was perfectly acceptable. And the teacher, a person who was deemed by the state the best applicant to be interacting with children every day, attacked him with a hole punch. I feel that my reaction showed remarkable restraint.” Natasha spat the words at them, her voice showing more emotion then Peter had seen from her in months of training with them. No one spoke for several tense minutes until Clint broke the silence.

“Where the hell is that kid.” He said in an almost growl, honestly slightly scaring Peter.

“Wait, no, no no, no, no. I already have to explain to him what happened to his parents, and I need him alive to do so.” Peter said hoping to calm the fire in the eyes of all three of them.

“Will you at least let me speak with him Peter, you know I would never kill a kid,” Steve asked.

“Fine, Steve, and only Steve can talk to him. But I still don’t want you alone with him.” peter said, having a sinking feeling that somehow he had just made a very big mistake.

“Oh you don’t have to worry about that, there will be plenty of others there.” Peter did not feel at all comfortable with the glint behind the supersoldiers eye.

#Peter-centricPeter and Nat are BFFsLiterally everyone adopted PeterCuteFluffmovies - FreeformHurt/ComfortLots of HurtPeter has seen better d

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yeeter-parkor · 5 years ago

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The one with the vents!

Peter and Clint play pranks in the vents. No one else is amused.

Read on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535447

summery: “Shh, there coming!” Clint said, cutting him off excitedly. “Thank you again for meeting me today Mrs. Payette, I am looking forward to our meeting today, you see-” “Three...” Clint whispered. “We learned a lot when-” Steve started to walk towards the board. “Two…” “Wakanda was in a-” “One.”

Peter had gone into the vents a few times before, mostly when he was trying to pull a prank, namely the one where he followed Steve around playing ‘Cold As Ice’ for 72 hours until he fell threw on accident. He didn’t love them, they were fairly dusty, and he was pretty sure that rats lived up there (Not that he could tell Mr. Stark that, because he knew he would have 174 exterminators up here if he knew) but they were convenient, and a great place to do homework, which he had way to much, without someone touching you in water. He had gotten two days of detention for that, where he ironically had to watch Steve lecture him about maturity. So he often escaped up there with any paper assignments and a flashlight. The unfortunate thing was, he got lost very easily, which is how he ended up faced with a dead-end (Why the hell did a vent have a dead end?) filled with blankets, chocolate, and… skulls. He couldn’t tell what all of them were, but at least some of them were human. He heard a rustling behind him and whipped around so quickly he thought for a second that he had given himself whiplash. He looked up and Clint crouching there, a hand over Peter’s mouth, and hand full of water balloons. Slowly he realized Peter, who could not have been more confused.

“Are these your skulls?”

Clint gave him a strange look. “There Loki’s.”

“Loki goes in the vents?”

“Duh, I don’t know what he does up here, aside from reading romance and eat chocolate.”

“And collect skulls.”

“I mean, he leaves them behind everywhere.” Peter must have made a confused face because Clint laughed. “Let’s just say be careful with the cereal you eat near Asgardians, and always check for mouse heads.

“Wait-”

“Don’t question, just accept.”

“So what are you doing with the water balloons?” Peter said, very much wanting to move on and forget the whole topic.

“I think Steve has seemed pretty confident lately, it sure would be a shame if someone were to interrupt an important meeting with a foreign government.”

“Won’t he be mad?”

“Steve? Yes, why do you think I’m doing this? The governor is in on this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Payette is cool like that. Come on, your gonna miss the show.”

With that, Clint started army crawling through the vents, seemingly knowing exactly where to go with almost too much ease.

“How much time do you spend up here?”

Clint looked him dead in the eye, with a very serious face. “Too much.”

Peter snorted in a not-very-dignified way, unable to help himself when he saw the look on the assassin's face.

“Shhh! He’s gonna hear you!” Clint said, fighting to maintain the serious mistake as he clutched the balloons to his chest, looking more like a toddler about to get in trouble.

Finally, they got into position, stationed directly above the smartboard, already prepped for Steve’s presentation.

“Isn’t this a little mean?” Peter asked, suddenly worried about the super soldier's reaction.

“Of course it’s a little mean Peter, that’s why we’re doing this.” Peter looked at the agent with wide worried eyes “Okay kid, you know what he did to me the other day, he got Loki to turn all the egg’s in my kitchen so that when I cracked them they turned into bird shit. Bird shit Peter, this is totally tame compared to what I’ve done before. He’ll be fine, just a little wet.”

“Okay then, if you’re sure-”

“Shh, there coming!” Clint said, cutting him off excitedly.

“Thank you again for meeting me today Mrs.Payette, I am looking forward to our meeting today, you see-”

“Three...” Clint whispered.

“We learned a lot when-” Steve started to walk towards the board.

“Two…”

“Wakanda was in a-”

“One.”

Clint handed Peter a couple of balloons, before swinging out the vent and aiming straight for Steves's head. Peter threw his quickly, and it took him a moment to realize that Steve wasn’t covered in water, he was covered in paint. The look on Steve’s face was enough to send both of them into laughing fits as soon as he looked up. He blinked confused for a few times, before he looked up, seeing the missing vent.

“Clint!” he yelled at them.

“Run Peter run!”

They both crawl/sprinted out back the way the came, hurrying to escape the yelling coming from the super solder, Peter didn’t stop until he reached a fork, unsure of where to turn, he leaned against the vent wall trying to suck in air as he collapsed into laughter. He looked back, not seeing clint for a second in the dim lighting, for a moment before he reappeared, doubled over in laughter.

“Holy….Shit...Peter, did you...see his face.”

He could feel tears of laughter rolling down his face as he gasped for breath.

“Is he… gonna come after us?” Peter asked, still laughing.

“He needs to finish his meeting.”

“You didn’t tell me it was paint!”

“You would have backed out if you had known.”

They sat gasping for a moment, trying to calm down.

“You know that was evil, don’t you?”

“Why else would we have done it.”

Peter paused for a moment, before he remembered something, “Sir, how do we leave now?”

“We’re stuck here until Cap forgets about us.”

“How long will that be?”

“You better get comfortable.”

0o0o0o

They ended up staying in the vents until Tony had called Peter, giving away there location to the very angry supersoldier, who’s shirt was still slightly pink, despite the scrubbing.

"You are my da-ad, you're my dad, Boggie wooki wooki"

“That’s where you are you little shits!” Peter heard the boom from a few rooms over.

“ABORT MISSION!” Clint yelled, drop down to the briefing room below and sprinting out. Peter followed suit, scrambling the other way in an attempt to mislead the man. He somehow made it to Mr. Starks's lab hurrying in and slamming the door. He turned, seeing a very bewildered Mr. Stark, with oil smudges on his face.

“Peter, what happened?”

He was laughing too hard to form coherent sentences but tried his best to explain. “I...vents and clint and...we had paint balloons...Steve...meeting.” was about all he could get out before dissolving into laughter again.

“You hid in the vents with Clint and dropped paint balloons on Steve?”

“During a meeting.”

“Holy shit that’s brilliant. Hey FRIDAY, you have that footage, right?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good. Store that to the ‘Capsicle is melting’ file.”

“Right away boss.”

0o0o0o

Peter didn’t risk leaving the Lab for several hours, content to finish his homework and tinker with his web-shooters. Mostly though, he had heard Clint screaming two floors down and he knew for a fact that the ascension wouldn’t hesitate to sell him out.

“Peter!” “What!” “I’ve called your name four times, it’s time for dinner.”

“Oh.”

He bit his lip anxiously as he followed his mentor out the door, keeping a close eye on- well, everything. He refused to be surprised by the captain. Which is why he was so ready to jump to his right when his spidey senses warned him. “Peter!” He heard the soldier yell, he turned his head, only to see Steve with easily more than 15 paint ballons.

“Get back here you little shit!”

Yep, Peter loved life with his new family, even when that meant eating his Mc. Donalds covered in paint.

#clint barton #avengers #tony stark #fanfic

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yeeter-parkor · 5 years ago

Text

Stucky fic!

Pre-war StevexBucky sickfic

You can read on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957554

summery: Unlicked Cub- (Noun)- A loutish youth who has never been taught manners; from the tradition that a bear’s cub, when brought into the world, has no shape or symmetry until its mother licks it into form with her tongue; ill-trained, uncouth, and rude.Bucky has no idea how he is keeping his best friend alive.

Bucky knew the moment he woke up that day that Steve was sick. Call it what you want, intuition, reasoning, a superpower. Or maybe he could telepathically communicate with the idiot he's befriended. For some reason. He just knew that he should be getting his ass out of bed and out the door in three minutes or less, because his tiny angry best friend was about to get very close to death.

So he was surprised to find that his friend was fairly chipper when he opened the door to the closet of an apartment his friend saved up for with Bucky’s mom. Steve never really felt good , but he didn’t look bad either. It was very hard to make Steve Rogers look bad, he just had one of those faces. He was sweeping the floor, something that needed to be done since winter had started and the soot had filled the room from the tiny stove they’d bought last year. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and ankles as he watched his friend work.

It was rare that Steve ever felt good enough to even get up from the bed, let alone have been awake and doing housework for a while. Steve propped the broom up in the corner and walked from there to the window, under which they kept the wood that Bucky'd chopped that fall. He didn’t step in uptil he saw Steve almost topple over from trying to pick it up on his own.

“You’re ‘bout to fall flat punk,” Bucky said, walking behind him. Steve jumped, dropping the wood about a inch away from his foot, making Bucky wince. “Geeze, you actually have a death wish, huh?”

“Bu- what ‘er yah doing here?” Steve asked. Bucky smiled. Even when he’s healthy his hearings pretty bad. Most of the time he couldn’t hear Bucky unless he practically shouted in his ear. Even now he undoubtedly couldn’t hear him walk in just now.

“Jus’ decided to show up an’ give ya a heart attack,” Bucky said, taking three logs over to the stove and propping one in quickly, before turning back to his best friend. “You okay?”

Steve scowled at him, crossing his stick thin arms. Bucky smiled, looking down and bumping his shoulder. Bucky’d gotten even taller in the last three months, and Steve decidedly hadn’t. He wasn’t even up to Bucky's shoulder anymore, and he was salty about it. “ course ‘m okay. Why don’t you think that?” Steve asked.

“I donno, just a hunch,” Bucky said. Steve shook his head.

“I wanna go for a walk today,” Steve said, looking outside. It was a cold day, the kind where the air felt like it was cutting you, and the sky looked like shimmery glass. “You wanna come?”

“Go for a walk? Are you insane? Stevie it’s like, negitive fuck’n twenty out there.” Bucky said. Steve just shrugged. “I can wear my wool sweater.”

“The one that you threatened to cut into pieces last week because it made your skin itch so bad you thought you’d explode.” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please? I haven't been allowed out for months. If I don’t get out with you, I’m sneaking out this window. I swear it Buck.” Steve said, scowling up. Bucky sighed.

“Fine. but if I see yah doin’ anything like the fair incident last month I’m marching yah straight back, you understand.” He said, placing a hand on Steve's boney shoulder. Steve pumped a fist, smiling.

“I’ll be well behaved Buck,” Steve said. “Yah know me,”

0o0o0o

Bucky couldn’t believe it. Or rather, he could believe it, but he really didn’t want to. He had turned away for a grand total of maybe three minutes to go back and grab a coat, and Steve was gone. He sighed, folding Steve’s coat over his arm, and climbed up onto a rail, trying to see Steve’s head from the depth of the crowd.

He couldn’t see his blonde friend, and he was about ready to start checking nearby allies, when he heard a commotion near the river. Craning his neck he could see almost forty people gathered around it, some of them yelling, some silend, and a few seemed to be trying to reach something inside. Shaking his head, he followed the crowd. If there was a protest Steve would be there.

“What’s going on?” He asked when he got close enough. The gentleman to his left, wearing what was clearly a repurposed flour sack, shook his head.

“Er, little boy,” The man said, shaking his head. “Very small. He jumped a moment ago. After a young child.” He had a heavy accent that Bucky couldn’t place. “Is sad, two will die this winter now.”

“The kid who jumped after him, what did he look like?” Bucky asked, standing on his toes to see if he saw Steve’s head anywhere.

“Eh, very small. Yes, maybe twelve, thirteen. He did not look healthy.” the man said. “Blond. Why, do you know him?”

“Thank you sir,” Bucky said, before slipping past him to walk up in front of the group of people. By the time he got there, a young girl, maybe five, was coughing up water on the side of the street while her parents hugged her. Steve bobbed in the water next to them.

“Steven,” He said. Steve jerked his head up at that, fixing him with his intense blue stair. He didn’t even have the manners to look sheepish.

“He-ey Buck.” Steve said. Bucky wrapped a hand around his skinny arm and yanked him out of the water, starting the trek back before Steve could protest. Steve’s frail body jerked up, and Bucky almost drew his hand away in surprise. There was zero warmth in his entire body. Bucky was pretty sure his dead father was warmer under the earth. “You found the jacket.”

O0o0o0o

As Bucky suspected, within four days, Steve was sick as a dog. Despite Bucky's best efforts to try and keep him warm, the punk just couldn’t retain body heat. He’d dragged the limp mattress just under the window, hoping the weak sunlight may help warm him up. Before he used to put the ‘bed’ by the stove, but after Steve had accidentally gotten second degree burns after rolling over in his sleep, he’d decided against doing so again.

Bucky only left this last night because he needed to make sure his own Ma was okay. He’d felt bad leaving her with his last sister, but she’d assured him that her and Barbra were fine, and to make sure Steve was alright. She’d known Steve about as long as Bucky had been alive, and she would rather make sure he was okay then let Bucky braid her daughters hair.

“Stevie?” He asked, swinging around the doorway. Steve didn’t move. He took his hat off the peg, tossing it at Steve’s sleeping figure. Steve still didn’t move, aside from shivering slightly. “Steve?”

Steve’s lack of movement was starting to scare him. Bucky walked across the small apartment in five efficient strides. He kneeled down beside his friend, pressing his hand on Steve’s bony shoulder. Steve shuttered, sleepily turning into his light grasp. Bucky cursed sourly enough to make his Ma cuff his ears.

Steve was burning up, his hair sticking up all over the place. Surprisingly, his skin was dry, probably a sign that his fever had yet to break. He pressed down, turning his friend to look at his face. “Stevie?”

Steve didn’t wake up, just shivering in response. Bucky was actually starting to get really worried at this point. He picked the little jerk up, about a foot, and slammed him back into the matrice, wincing when a cough wracked the thin body. Steve finally sat up, leaning far forward as he continued hacking. Bucky always hated waking him up that way, he’d had to do it many more times then he’d liked.

“You with me punk?” He asked. Steve nodded, his coughing not stopping. Bucky sat there, rubbing his back while he wheezed. Steve leaned into him, finally catching his breath enough to talk.

“Heb, Bubk… bhy are you… hebe?” Steve asked, sounding stuffed up.

“Come on asshole, let's get you upright,” Bucky said, grabbing onto his twig arms and pulling him upright. He kept a tight hold while Steve swayed, clearly light headed. Despite his grip, Steve pitched forward, resting his head on Steve’s chest.

“Thanks,” Steve said, already sounding less congested. Still, his breath rattled in his ribcage and Bucky was holding up almost all of his, rather unimpressive, 87 pounds. He coughed again, dry and weak, and Bucky felt his face contort.

“Stop trying to talk you minikin,” Bucky said, rubbing his hand up and down Steve’s back. Steve shivered again, and pressed closer, presumably for body heat. Yeah, that’s what that was for.

“‘M not a minikin,” Steve said. “Jerkface.”

“Punk,” He replied. He didn’t see, but rather felt Steve smile into his shirt.

“Sneaksby,” Steve muttered.

“Rascal,” Bucky contorted, hiking Steve up a little to take on more of his body weight.

“Shabberoon,” Steve said. Bucky faked a gasp.

“Why you take that back. I dress better than the both of us combined,” Bucky said. Steve laughed weakly, leading to more coughing.

“‘An I lie down ag’n?” Steve asked. He seemed pretty damn tired, almost falling over when Bucky loosened his grip.

“Tell ya what, why not we both sit down, alright?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded and Bucky slowly lowered the two of them onto the matrise. Steve snatched the thin blanket that had been thrown off him earlier and curled around it. Bucky kept his arm firmly around him still, trying to keep him as still as he could.

“Yah know,” Steve said, clearing his throat. “ ‘M glad ‘m sick.” He said, leaning closer to Bucky and shivering again. Bucky tightened his arm around him, wishing he had something more to help his friend, other than insults and hugs.

“Glad you’re- Steve, you barely made it out of the last cold you had! Why the fuck would you- what are you shaking your head for rascle?”

“ ‘cuz now I know the girls aight.” Steve said, wrapping himself around Bucky again. Bucky swore, before hugging him tighter.

“You know you’re gonna be the death of you, right nimrode?” Bucky asked.

“Wouldn’t ‘av it any oth’r way.”

0o0o0o0o

Steve did eventually doze off, only to wake up sicker and decidedly less coherent. “ ‘ucky” He muttered, tucking his head under Bucky's chin. He laughed a little in spite of himself, rubbing his friends back.

“Hey, you get some sleep?” He asked. Steve just groaned.

“ ‘ow long wazz I ou’?” He asked. Bucky could barely understand him.

“Maybe ‘n hour or so,” He said, petting Steve's head. “You still feel really hot Stevie.”

“Oh, yah ‘ink ‘m hot?” Steve asked, laughing at his own joke, which quickly turned into coughing. Bucky sat up, propping Steve so he was leaning on his chest.

“Come on scamp, breathe with me, you know the drill,” Bucky said, pressing Steve's bony hand to his chest. Steve tried to take a shuddering breath, and half succeeded, before doubling over himself. Bucky would never admit it to anyone, but seeing Steve cough like this scared him. Really really scared him. Part of him wished he could run away, not have to deal with any of it. But then he wouldn’t get to deal with any of it.

See his problem?

“That’s right, you got it,” Bucky said, rubbing Steves back. Steve still shook under his hands, and his breath was wheezy and halting, but he could breathe again. “Nice and steady.”

“I been… breathing sense I was… born Buck I think… I got it down…” Steve said, still out of breath.

“Well you prove that to me and maybe I’ll leave you alone, huh?” Bucky asked. Steve gave a half hearted chuckle, before turning to press his face into Bucky's shirt. He still sounded like he was fighting for every breath, but at least he could talk. “Would it be better to stand up?”

“No…” Steve wheezed. “To uh… to dizzy right now.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. Steve squirmed for a second, sitting so that he was fixing Bucky with his intense stare. It always made Bucky a little uncomfortable when Steve did that. It felt like he could see right through him.

“Can I ask… you a...question?” Steve asked, playing with Bucky's hand. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but if this is the thing about me killing you again then-”

“No! It’s… not that.” Steve said. He looked actually uncomfortable, something rare for someone as dense as Steve.

“Then fire away,” Bucky said.

“Okay… why do you… stay?” Steve rasped out. Bucky tilted his head, trying to figure out what he said.

“What do you mean?” He asked finally, sensing Steve wouldn’t be elaboration without any prompting.

“Here? Why do you stay… here? This can’t… be fun,” Steve said, shaking his head. Bucky bit his lip, looking at his best friend.

“Because you’re a hell of a good person. You help people, even if it means you’re gonna get screwed over, like yah did the other day, and you don’t ever let the fact that other’s got the upperhand stop yah. You get into stupid fights you can’t get out of and you don’t eva stop for some reason, and you’re my best friend!” Bucky said, finishing by wrapping an arm around Steve. “Now who made yah question it? Was it Robort Jordens again? I swear-”

“No no, don’t… worry about… it,” Steve said, leaning against him. “I’z nice to hear yah say that.”

“Well I’ma keep saying it. ‘Til the end of the line, remember punk?” Bucky asked. Steve grinned.

“ ‘Til the end of the line.”

#stucky #avengers #sickfic #fanfic #pre serum stucky #pre serum steve

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