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Steve fidgets with the keys of the old Toyota and lowers the rim of his cap. Teenagers are starting to swarm out of the school, and the last thing he wants is to be recognized. He knows eventually he’ll have to call out when he sees Peter coming down the steps, and he knows it’ll increase the stress of an already stressful situation. He wasn’t supposed to be picking him up today.
Not to mention, it was obvious he wasn’t the kid’s favorite. Peter was never outright hostile to him, but he was shorter in his interactions and went out of his way to pointedly sidle up to Tony when everyone was together. The longest true interactions they’d ever had was their brief fight in Germany, and then when Tony had sent him to check in on the Parkers after everyone was back in the city. Even then, May--who knew next to nothing about what Tony dubbed their Parking Lot Fight--was there to be a buffer. And when Steve got him to open up, or laugh, Peter would shut down as soon as he realized, looking to Tony for direction, as if there were still sides to pick. Unfortunately, he’s not so sure how much everyone else has picked up on it, or if he only notices because it’s him.
Steve is nothing if not determined, and Bucky--who Peter adores because of course he does--goes out of his way to push them closer when he can, but this isn’t the optimal situation to try and win the kid over.
After what feels like an eternity, Steve spots Peter walking down the steps of the old brick building, flanked by the boy and girl he briefly met during Peter’s birthday party at the Compound. He reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket and squeezes the small vial Tony handed him right before they wheeled him back into the operating suite. He pulls it out; it’s slightly cracked and there’s a smudge of blood along the side, and if Tony hadn’t vehemently insisted that Peter wouldn’t come with him unless he presented it, he’d have chucked it out the car window. There’s no way the kid will stay calm if he’s presented with a cracked, bloody, glass vial.
Steve waits until Peter and his friends are about fifty yards away before pushing himself off the door of the car, but before he can call out, another student steps directly in front of Peter and stomps on his foot.
“Watch where you’re going, Penis,” the boy taunts, shoving his shoulder into Peter’s chest. The kid is an amazing actor, and Steve is surprised when all he does is stumble back a few steps as the tall girl’s arm--Michelle, he thinks her name is--loops around his back to keep him from tumbling over.
“Knock it off, Flash,” is all Steve hears Peter say when he catches his balance. He’s rewarded with another shove, and Steve practically leaps over to them, making a mental note to ask Tony what he knows about this.
“Peter!” Steve calls when he’s a few feet away, just as Michelle is opening her mouth to say something. “Peter’s friends…” he nods to her and the boy--Fred? Ned?--and then turns to the dark-haired teenager who stomped on Spider-man’s foot. “And I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you?” He smiles, perhaps a bit menacingly, and holds out his hand. “Steve.”
“Mr. Rogers?” Peter yelps as the dark-haired boy sputters and chokes and actually takes a step back.
“Your name, son?” Steve raises his eyebrows and keeps his hand held out, while Flash’s eyes dart back and forth between him and Peter.
“Um..Eugene, sir, Mr. Captain America, sir,” Flash stammers, and behind him Michelle smirks.
“Well,” Steve pulls his hand away just as Flash reaches for it. “It’s always a pleasure to meet one of Peter’s friends,” he gestures to Peter, whose face is slowly morphing into a confused frown. “He’s such a great kid,” Steve decides to lay it on thick, “I can’t imagine his friends being anything but either.”
Michelle snorts and turns her head into Peter’s shoulder while Flash/Eugene’s face turns bright red. “Um, y-yes, s-sir.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to Peter. It was nice meeting you,” with that Steve turns and looks back at Peter, who’s now downright scowling. “Michelle...N-ned? I have to steal Peter.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Captain America, sir,” Michelle rolls her eyes and mock-salutes. “See you tomorrow, loser,” she pinches Peter’s arm and turns on her heel, disappearing into a crowd of teenagers who most definitely have noticed Captain America standing in their school parking lot.
“Wow, sir,” Ned exhales hard, as if he’d been holding his breath since Steve stepped over to them. “It’s so good to see you again, sir.”
“You, too, Ned.”
“Ohmygod he remembers my name, Peter,” Ned bursts, grabbing his friend’s forearm.
“Of course he does,” Peter rolls his eyes. “This is probably ‘intern stuff,’ so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Well, I am your man in the chair,” Ned turns back to Steve. “You can--”
“I’m afraid this is for Peter’s ears only, son,” Steve smiles but he doesn’t feel it. He rolls the glass vial in his fist.
“Go on, Ned. I’ll text you about it tonight.”
“Sure, o-okay. Bye, Pete. Bye, Mr. Captain America, sir.”
“It was good seeing you again, Ned,” Steve nods, and watches as he trips away into the crowd, glancing over his shoulder a few times. He wants to make sure he’s out of earshot.
“I’m not going to the Tower today, Mr. Rogers,” Peter says bluntly, pulling Steve’s eyes back to him. “And why are you here?”
“Does Tony know about that jerk? Do we need to tell him? Or your aunt?”
“No,” Peter squares his shoulders, which obviously means Tony does not know and it’ll be up to Steve to make sure he finds out. “And usually Happy gets me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s me today,” Steve pulls his cap further down on his head and Peter scrunches his nose. “I’ll tell you in the car. We’re going to the Compound.”
“We’re not going anywhere, Mr. Rogers,” Peter takes a step back and grabs the straps of his backpack, voice forceful. “I’m going patrolling, and then I’m going back to Queens. Mr. Stark knows that. If he needed me at the Tower he would have sent Happy. Or come himself.”
“Well, he can’t right now,” Steve thrusts out his fist and opens his fingers to reveal the small vial. Immediately Peter jerks forward, his eyes wide as he grabs for the broken, bloody glass. “He’s fine!” Steve blurts as Peter chokes on the air in his chest. “He’s fine, I promise. He personally gave that to me and told me to give it to you. Said you’d only come if I had that, so, kudos to you for sticking to the code!”
“Where is he?” Peter looks from the glass up to Steve, his eyes already wet. “Where’s Happy?”
“Right now Tony is getting the bones in his leg screwed together,” Steve lowers his voice, glancing around them. “Happy got it a little worse but Dr. Cho thinks he’ll be fine.” He reaches for Peter’s shoulder and turns him towards the car. “I’ll tell you when we’re on the road. But we’re going to the Compound. Now.”
Peter stops suddenly and Steve almost trips over him. “May! I can’t--”
“Jim is getting your aunt,” Steve gives him a little shove to get him walking again. “It’s gonna be awhile, he can’t pull her out of the hospital without drawing attention.” He opens the car door when they reach it; Peter is staring at the vial in his hand. “Get in. We need to move.”
***********
Steve doesn’t pull his cap off until they’re safely on the Thruway, tossing it in the back seat and turning to Peter. The kid is about two shades whiter than he was when he came out of school, and keeps glancing behind them.
“You hungry, Pete?” Steve swallows hard and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “There’s some snacks in the duffle back there.”
Peter turns to look at him, almost as if he’d forgotten he was there and driving. “No,” he mumbles, then turns to look back out the rear windshield. “Where’s Tony?”
It doesn’t escape Steve that Peter didn’t say Mr. Stark; Tony mentioned it once that he only drops the “misters” when he’s worried or otherwise preoccupied. It rankles him a bit that he’s still Mr. Rogers and he resolves to pay attention to what Peter calls the other adults when they reach the Compound.
“Well,” Steve sighs, glancing in all the mirrors to ensure nothing is amiss on the road around them. “There was a bit of an incident--”
“Don’t,” Peter states harshly, cutting off his attempt to spin. “Just tell me what happened.”
Steve grimaces and glances over at the teenager in the seat next to him. He’s twisted to face fully forward now, staring out at the road ahead of them. The glass vial is still clenched in his hand. Steve isn’t exactly sure what it is, Tony didn’t really have time to explain in depth, but it must be something only Peter and Tony would recognize if it’s used as a signal. He sighs again, and dives right in. “Happy and Tony were heading up to the compound, driving for some reason. Apparently someone on a bike passed them and launched some sort of IED at them.”
“IED?”
“Improvised explosive device. Thank God Tony’s cars are built like tanks--it glanced, but still managed to take out the back. They spun out, into a tree. Tony’s left leg was wrenched, Happy hit his head and may have a cracked skull and some broken ribs.” He glances over at Peter, who somehow, has turned another shade whiter. Steve sees the hand holding the vial start to shake. “Both knew their names when medical got them, Tony personally handed me that before I left. And,” Steve tries to chuckle but it comes out high and tight. “At least it was his bad leg, he needed to get that thing fixed anyway.”
Peter doesn’t acknowledge his attempt at a joke; he just takes a shaky breath and swallows hard. “Do you know who did it?” His voice is low and soft, scared but trying not to be, and Steve is once again reminded of the fact that Peter is really just a kid.
“No,” Steve flicks on the turn signal to get off on the exit for NY-17. He’s most definitely breaking speeding laws. “Buck and Nat are looking. Guy just threw it and kept going. Everyone else is coming in, except Clint, he can protect his family better where he is. And Jim is getting your aunt.”
“Why aren’t you out looking too?” Steve isn’t sure exactly what it is, but he hears a shift in Peter’s tone. Skepticism? Indignance?
“Because, Tony asked me to get you,” he glances over again at Peter, and sees him narrow his eyes at the road ahead. “Only the best for his Spider-kid!” Steve tries to joke again, but Peter’s scowl only deepens. “Say,” he clears his throat again. “What’s that thing anyway?”
“It’s from my old webshooter,” Peter mumbles, and turns the piece of glass over in his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees him rub the corner of his plaid shirt over and around it.
“It looks like one of the old extra perfume bottles my mother would bring home.”
“It is. From May’s magazines.”
“Wow, that’s smart,” Steve forces a chuckle. “And when you were fourteen? That’s crazy--”
“Mr. Rogers,” Peter looks up and over at him. “We don’t really need to start a conversation.”
The words are pointed, obviously so, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He sighs inwardly and flicks his eyes up to the rear-view mirror: the empty road behind them, the untouched duffle of snacks Pepper had pushed into his arms in the back seat. “He’s gonna be fine, Peter.”
“I know.”
“He also told me to make sure you eat,” Steve reaches into the backseat and snags a bar of something-or-other, then tosses it at Peter.
“Fine.”
******
It’s been a long evening, and Steve wishes Cho was available to give him some of the painkillers she’d developed specifically for him because his temples are starting to pound. She’d told him they use them on Peter now, too, so at least there’s something he can feel useful about right now.
He drains the last dregs of med-bay coffee--it tastes about fifteen hours old--and pitches the cardboard cup into a garbage can next to the station. Peter is sitting in a hard plastic chair directly outside the room where Tony is waking up; right now only Pepper and a nurse are allowed in. Tony is now the proud owner of three vibranium rods: two for his femur and one for his tibia. Cho even cleared out his knee while she was in there.
Happy has apparently been drifting in and out, and is still being heavily monitored to make sure he doesn’t need any burr holes in the event of significant swelling. Per one of the assistants, even if that resolves itself quickly, his ribs and the pneumothorax will keep him bed-bound for at least a week.
Jim messaged Steve to let him know that he was still a while out from leaving the city with May--there was an employee exposure she needed to deal with--and Bucky and Nat haven’t made contact. If something happened to them Steve would be alerted; he’d asked Tony to build a fail safe into Bucky’s arm. Apparently Peter helped, because Peter likes Bucky. A lot.
In fact, Peter likes everyone, which does not make Steve feel any better as he grabs a shrink-wrapped muffin off the metal coffee station and heads back through the glass doors towards his charge. Steve isn’t naive enough to think the kid would drop his hesitation around him because of the situation, but it’s bluntly obvious right now and becoming worse by the minute. If Tony hadn’t made him promise to stick by Peter’s side, he’d have called in Bruce and swapped out in a heartbeat.
A stressed out, worried kid is one thing. But a stressed out, worried kid who is steadily becoming less and less successful at hiding his disdain is something else entirely.
“Hey, what’re you reading?” Steve asks as he plops down in the chair next to Peter, holding out the muffin he snagged. Peter merely glances at it from the corner of his eye and then turns back to his tablet.
“The Indifferent Stars Above.”
“That sounds…uplifting,” Steve starts unwrapping the muffin for himself. Tony’s words ring through his head: He’s going to freak out, Rogers. You gotta help his aunt keep him calm. He wishes he could be dealing with a crying kid right now.
“It’s about the Donner Party.”
“We learned about them in school,” Steve awkwardly nods, pulling off a bit of muffin-top and popping it into his mouth. It tastes like plastic and garbage. “I was only there for one lesson, though. I caught a chill and missed the rest of the week. I had anemia. Had to get these injections. And eat a lot of liver.”
“Well these people had to eat each other,” Peter flicks his finger across his tablet screen to turn the page.
“Yeah, Bucky mostly filled me in,” Steve leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He’s never been great with kids. “But he never told me why they got stuck.”
“They took an untested ‘shortcut,’” Peter doesn’t look up as he speaks, his voice verging on the edge of downright annoyed. “It didn’t work and they got caught in snowstorms.”
“Yeah, shortcuts almost never work,” Steve chuckles and slaps a hand down on Peter’s shoulder. “You should make Tony read that book.”
Peter does look up at that, glaring at Steve with a ferocity he’d never imagined could come from Baby Deer-Eye Peter. He glances at Steve’s hand on his shoulder then back to his face, eyes narrowing just minutely in warning. Steve’s mind flickers back to Peter’s irritation when he’d showed up unannounced at the apartment in Queens. Comparedly, this look could stop Stormbreaker in its path.
“Heh, I’m just joking, Pete,” Steve removes his hand, lest the kid grab it and use it to throw him across the room. “Tony’s um...shortcuts, have saved our--”
“Why are you down here, Mr. Rogers?” Peter interrupts with what is clearly faux-respect. Steve swallows and looks back at the tile floor.
“Because Tony asked me to be,” Steve says honestly. “And because that’s what teammates do. And, because I’m worried too. I know he’ll be ok, but I’ll feel a lot more at ease if I can see it myself.”
“Well, don’t sit down here on account of me. I’m fine by myself, and May will be here soon.”
“Oh, I know you’re fine by yourself. But you don’t have to be, Pete,” Steve makes a calculated decision and reaches for Peter’s shoulder again, but he shrugs it off and jumps up from the chair.
“I could actually use a walk,” he says, and it most definitely sounds as if he’d been scripting that line in his head for awhile. “This book is boring.”
“A book about cannibalism is boring?”
“You’d be surprised. I’ll be back when FRIDAY says I can go see Tony,” he tosses the tablet on the plastic chair, which rattles against the wall.
“I could stretch my legs too--” Steve goes to push himself off the chair, but Peter glares at him again.
“I’m just going to walk around the compound,” he reaches into the collar of his hoodie and pulls out two earbuds. “You should stay, if you’re so worried.”
“Peter, I’m supposed to--”
“I’ll be back,” Peter turns on heel as he interrupts him, and starts walking down the sterile white hall towards the elevator.
“Alright,” Steve sighs and decides to let him have this, against his better wishes. He’ll follow in a few minutes. “But Tony doesn’t want you leaving the building, so stay inside. And have FRIDAY call if you need anything.”
Peter doesn’t answer, standing in silence as he waits for the elevator doors to open. Steve watches uneasily as the door closes behind him. He picks up the tablet to give him something to do.
********
Steve barely gets through the first chapter--Peter was clearly lying, the book is fascinating so far--when the door in front of him opens and a tiny nurse and Pepper step into the hall. The nurse pats Pepper’s shoulder before scurrying down the hall, and Pepper smiles at him, looking exhausted and drawn. She’s barefoot, shoes and pantyhose gone. and her maternity blazer is open, blouse untucked. Steve snickers; Tony on painkillers is a piece of work.
“How’s his majesty?” Steve sits up and sets the tablet down.
“As you’d expect...where’s Peter?” Pepper looks to the empty chair next to him.
“Oh, he’s--”
“Mr. Parker has exited the building,” FRIDAY interrupts from above. “He is on the South Lawn.”
“WHAT?!?” The scream that comes through the open door makes Steve flinch.
“Tony!” Pepper steps back through the open door. “No, Tony--stop, honey--” she turns back to Steve, eyes tired. “Go get Peter, please.”
“Fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath as Pepper grimaces.
“Yeah, that’s about right,” she half smiles, gripping the door frame.
“STEVE!”
“No, Tony,” Pepper disappears through the door. “You need to stop, you’re going to pull out those sutures…”
“Fucking great,” Steve pushes himself off the plastic chair and sprints to the elevator. Behind him, he can hear a very high Tony arguing with a clearly exhausted Pepper. He mentally kicks himself as the elevator shoots up to the ground floor of the Compound. Tony gave him one job--stay with Peter. Not that he thinks anyone would be able to get onto the grounds, but he should have insisted on going with him. He’s fought Nazis and a genocidal mad titan...he could have handled a moody, bratty teenager. And avoided Tony’s wrath.
As soon as the elevator dumps him on the ground floor, Steve takes off towards the south wing and sure enough, he can see Peter through the wall-to-ceiling glass windows, standing where the cobblestone meets the grass and staring off into the distance somewhere.
“Peter!” Steve calls as he races out the glass door towards the teenager, who looks excessively tiny against the vast space of the South Lawn and the trees beyond it. Peter’s shoulders jerk but he doesn’t turn until Steve is right next to him. “Son…”
“I’m not your son,” Peter deadpans, then looks back out towards the trees.
Steve ignores that. “Do you hear something?” He follows Peter’s line of sight, but he doesn’t see or hear anything aside from the whir of the Compound generators. Tony has told him that Peter seems to have an extra sense that tells him when danger is near, so maybe there’s something out there that Steve wouldn’t be able to recognize yet. All the more reason to get him back inside.
“No? I said, I just needed some air.”
“We didn’t want you going outside.”
“Well,” Peter just shrugs. “I’ve only been out here for like, five minutes. And I could get away if I wanted to. Tony’s not probably capable of locking down my suit, so, you know.”
“Tony’s up, Pete. Pepper came out to grab you like, five minutes ago, just as you decided to go outside and FRIDAY decided to announce it to everyone,” Steve lays his hand down on Peter’s shoulder and holds it, making clear that he won’t allow Peter to just shake him off this time. “So, I suggest we go back in there, before they have to sedate Tony again.” He sighs. “I know this isn’t the best of circumstances, Peter, but all of us--especially Tony--would appreciate everyone just staying close.”
“Nothing happened.”
“I know, and I’m sure if something had you’d have had it under control until you got back-up,” Steve manages to turn Peter back towards the door, leaning into his strength a bit more than he wishes he had to. He doesn’t think he’d be able to beat Peter in a contest--Tony has told him his physical strength rivals the Hulk’s--but he hopes the added pressure lets Peter know he’s serious. “But let’s try to not to get into any somethings, not for awhile,” Steve pauses. “For Tony,” he adds, knowing at the very least, he can target the kid’s guilt. Peter has a guilt complex as big as Tony’s.
Peter squares his shoulders, but lets Steve lead him back into the Compound. “For Tony,” he mumbles, as if he feels he needs an excuse for why he’s allowing him to drag him back inside.
“Good,” Steve squeezes his shoulder, and the tight knot in his chest releases. He’ll take it right now. “Now gird yourself,” he says when the elevator door closes behind them. “Tony was not thrilled when FRIDAY announced you’d escaped.”
“Yeah, he never is.”
“I’ll take the heat,” Steve squeezes his shoulder again. “We’re used to yelling at each other.”
Peter suddenly stiffens beside him, but Steve doesn’t get a chance to think about it before the elevator doors are pinging open; it almost feels as though FRIDAY has purposefully sped its descent up. He doesn’t remove his hand from Peter’s shoulder until he’s pushing him through the door to the hospital room.
“Found him!” He calls cheerfully when they enter the room. “He only went out for some fresh air...it is kind of stuffy down here.”
“See? He’s right here, Tony,” Pepper is sitting beside the bed, hands on Tony’s forearm. Tony doesn’t look great; the entire left side of his face is bruised and swelling, and his left leg is entirely encased in what looks like an extremely high-tech air cast, the pant leg cut away, and wires and tubes running into his thigh and calf. There’s an IV in his left wrist and another larger tube in his right elbow, and he looks like he could pitch over at any moment. Steve looks at Peter, whose shoulders slump slightly at the sight of his mentor. Tony’s eyebrows raise, and he looks from Steve to Peter as he walks to the end of the bed.
“What on Earth were you thinking?”
Peter jumps slightly at Tony’s admonishment, and Steve grimaces in sympathy, immediately jumping in.
“Well, I--” Steve starts, but Tony interrupts him, his eyes remarkably clear considering all the medication surely pumping through his veins.
“Not you, Steve,” Tony snaps. “Peter. What were you thinking, leaving the compound?”
“Tony,” Pepper reaches over and lays a hand on his arm.
“No,” Tony shakes his head, eyes still on Peter, whose face is turning redder by the second. “Pete, I wanted Steve to stay with you and May for a reason.”
“I needed some fresh air,” Peter mumbles, and looks down at his worn sneakers. They remind Steve of how his shoes would get worn, and he and Bucky would shove newspapers in them to keep his feet warm in the winter.
“And you couldn’t get any in the gym? Or the hangar?”
Peter shrugs and murmurs something, eyes still on the floor.
“He was nervous, Tony...you and Happy were attacked and you were both in surgery, and May isn’t here yet and he was with me and uncomfortable--” Steve steps forward and lays a hand between Peter’s shoulders; he jumps forward away from him, eyes still on the floor. Tony narrows his eyes at Peter and then looks directly at Steve.
“Pep,” he says, not looking at her. “Can you give us a minute?”
Pepper’s mouth twists but she leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek, just above the bruise starting to spread across his jaw. “Be nice, honey.” She grabs her heels off the floor and pads across the med bay, pausing for a moment to gently run her fingers through Peter’s hair. “I’ll get the ETA on your aunt, sweetheart,” she whispers, then rubs Steve’s shoulder once and leaves them.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Tony sighs and slumps back into the bed. That’s been one change for the better; since they reversed everything, he’s much more open and vulnerable, willing to let his team see when he’s struggling, although Steve would wager some of it right now is because of the pain medication.
“I should have followed right after him, Tony. That one’s on me,” Steve crosses his arms and waits for his lashing. He’s intimately aware that Peter’s well-being is on the same level as Pepper’s in Tony’s mind.
“You should have,” Tony nods and lifts his head again. “But he shouldn’t have left the building and he knows it.”
“Why didn’t you send Mr. Rhodes?” Peter blurts suddenly, looking up at Tony. Steve inwardly flinches, but it was the first thing he thought whenTony told him to go get Peter, too.
“Because Rhodey’s legs don’t work, and I trusted your aunt to respond a little more calmly than a superpowered teenager. Seems like I was right.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You left the building, which I explicitly told Steve to tell you not to do,” Tony looks around Peter at him. “Steve, did you relay that message?”
“I did, Tony.”
“Well?” Tony turns back to Peter and tries to clap his hands together, but his rhythm is off and there are numerous tubes attached to each of his wrists so he misses, and immediately grunts in pain, leaning back and hissing through his teeth.
“Jeez, Tony, maybe don’t--”
“Yeah, I got it, Cap,” Tony exhales hard and tries to shift, and immediately Peter jumps to his side, holding out his arm so Tony has something he can use as leverage without using his left leg. “Thanks, bud.”
Almost instantly, Steve feels the mood in the room change, like a heavy fog suddenly evaporated. Peter helps Tony position himself against the head of the hospital bed, and Steve feels like he’s invading a space that doesn’t belong to him.
“Um, you want--” Steve gestures to the door, but Tony looks at him and shakes his head.
“No, stay,” he squeezes Peter’s hand and nods to the chair Pepper was in. “Sit down, bud. You, too,” he tips his chin over to the chair under the window.
“Ok,” Steve blows out a breath but steps over to the recliner against the wall. He watches as Peter settles into the hard plastic chair, the legs scraping against the tile as he scootches it closer to the bed.
Tony pats his knee when he settles in and looks up at Steve. “Steve, thank you for getting Peter.”
Steve rolls his eyes at the little smirk on Tony’s face; he has a feeling a professional has directed Tony to not only rely on other people, but thank them afterwards. “It was my pleasure, Tony. He is the team mascot, after all.”
Tony smiles at Steve’s joke, but Peter immediately looks up from where he’s been staring at his knees and downright glares at Steve, another murderous look that he’s sure Tony wouldn’t believe if he wasn’t there to see it.
“And you,” Tony turns to Peter, who drops his head again. “You gotta stop this, kiddo. I’m not blind and I was hoping this would fade... I appreciate it, but it’s okay. We were both wrong, and if it wasn’t for Steve, you wouldn’t be here. I asked him to come get you because I trust him to keep you safe.” He watches Tony squeeze Peter’s knee. “Neither of us was completely right, and that’s just how it is. But I need you to trust him. There’s no sides anymore.”
“Pete,” Steve sighs and leans forward on his knees. “Tony and I have...well, we’ve worked it out. And I’d have more than just him on my ass if anything happened to you. Buck, for one.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to be friends.”
“Peter.”
“No, Tony,” Steve is still shocked to hear Peter called Tony anything but Mr. Stark, even more so to his face. “I’m not an idiot, I know what the Accords were about. You were both wrong, and both right...but it’s not that. He lied to you.”
“Peter…”
“Friends don’t do that,” Peter looks up, pointedly at Steve.
“They shouldn’t,” Tony says softly. “But sometimes they do, and more often than not the intention is good. And not to turn the tables on you, but how many of your friends aren’t privy to everything in your life?”
“That’s different, Tony,” Steve feels like he has to jump in. He doesn’t exactly know if he’d be able to do things differently, but the knowledge of how Tony felt about the deception still sticks in his stomach like a brick. There is an entire world of events he wishes could have gone differently, but as they intimately learned over and over again, things had to go the way they did for everyone to end up where they are now. Sometimes life is just like that.
“I know it’s different Steve,” Tony grits out between his teeth, “but I’m in a lot of pain right now and I’m really having a difficult time digging into the analogy bank, but the fact is life is complicated and everything is fine now.” He turns back to Peter. “Shit, I even fixed up Barnes’ arm.”
“You swore and complained and threw things the entire time, and I had to stop you from putting an explosive self-destruct timer in there.”
“Tony,” Steve scoffs at him, but it’s not entirely surprising. What was surprising is that Tony even agreed to help Shuri upgrade the thing in the first place.
“But I did it, because I knew it’d be the safest thing for everyone,” Tony lays a hand on Peter’s forearm. “Stuff happens, Pete. But not only do I owe Steve a debt I’ll never be able to repay, but we figured out the only way to go forward is if everyone trusts each other. Even if we’re all...retired. We still have people we need to protect.”
“Tony, there’s no debt. None of this would be here without you, either…”
“No, but you’re the one who dragged me out when I made it back and was done.”
“And you’re the one who tricked that horn-lady into the time vortex so she’d stop being able to tear my intestines out.”
“And you’re the one--”
“Oh my god, really? Now?” Peter interrupts Tony, looking between the two of them with an increasingly disturbed look on his face.
“The point is, I’ve moved on. And in order to keep you as safe as possible, I need you to, too, bud,” Tony lifts his hand and tries to brush some hair off Peter’s forehead, but the tube connected to his arm pulls and he sinks back with a grimace and a groan.
“That still doesn’t make it right,” Peter whines, glancing up at Steve.
“No, but a lot of things aren’t. We’re all human, kiddo,” Tony shrugs and looks over at Steve. “And even if we weren’t, it’s between me and Steve. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“I worry about you.”
“Peter,” Steve leans forward, seeing his opening. “I worry about Tony too. And everyone else, including you. We don’t need to be friends, but I need you to believe that I’m Tony’s friend.”
“And I need you to listen when Steve has directions that clearly came from me,” Tony clicks his tongue and side-eyes Peter, his eyebrows furrowing. “And even if he doesn’t You can defer to me if I’m around but if it’s just Steve, you need to trust him. And we are going to discuss with your aunt when she gets here.”
“Seriously?! I only went like, three feet outside!”
“After Happy and I were attacked and I left explicit instructions for you not to,” Tony looks back at Steve. “And May is going to have a talk with you too, Steve, for not following him.”
“Wait, what?!”
“Ha!” Peter laughs at him, rolling his eyes.
“See? You can bond over it!” Tony winks at Steve, just as there’s a knock on the door. Steve looks over to see Pepper pop her head in.
“Boy talk over?”
“Ugh, for now,” Tony slumps back against his pillow. “Got way too deep.”
“It was not deep, Pepper,” Steve smiles up at her and she rolls her eyes, stepping into the room. She’s changed into what looks like leggings and a long sweater and is carrying a shoulder bag and a laptop.
“Well, Dr. Cho says you’ll be in here at least until tomorrow, so I’m back to set up shop. They’re bringing me a cot and a table,” Pepper sets her things down on the rolling tray beside Tony. “And Peter, sweetheart, Jim’s on his way with your aunt. ETA an hour and half, and they’re bringing pizza.”
Peter perks up at that. “With pineapple?”
“Oh, god,” Tony grows and mock gags.
“It’s good! Your mentor has terrible taste in pizza toppings, Peter,” Steve smiles at Peter, who starts to grin back then stops himself and glances over at Tony.
“Oh, please, gang up with Captain America on me while I’m bed-bound and incapacitated by pain medication.”
“Oh, they’re getting you a broccoli one,” Pepper steps over to the bed and gently swats his shoulder.
“Abused on all sides,” Tony looks back at Peter. “You good?”
“I guess,” Peter looks over at Steve, then up to Pepper. “Is Happy gonna be ok?”
“Peter.”
“Yes, fine, god!” Peter rolls his eyes, the to Steve’s surprise, looks over at him like can you believe this guy. It feels like maybe a tiny crack in the ice.
“Good man,” Tony pats his knee. “Now why don’t you guys get out of here, so I can take another hit of pain medication and say inappropriate things to my wife. You can show him the Captain America photo collectors book I know you still have hidden under your bed.”
“Oh my god, Mr. Stark!” Peter jerks away from Tony, his face morphing into a look of pure betrayal.
“Yeah, I know all about it. Traitor,” Tony tries to reach for him again but is thwarted once again by PICC line.
“I-I do not have one of those,” Peter stammers, looking up at Steve with a look of abject mortification on his face. It’s a nice change of pace from the glares.
“I believe you, Peter,” Steve tries not to smile. He’ll take what he can get right now.
“And Happy’s gonna be fine, Peter,” Pepper smiles. “He’s been through worse.”
“That he has,” Tony groans and slumps back into the pillow. “Fuck, this is a mess.”
“You know,” Peter leans over, looking conspiratorial in a way that Steve doesn’t like. “We had to watch these videos in school sometimes. Did you know Mr. Rogers made PSAs for schools?” He looks up at Steve and smiles viciously, but he doesn’t see the angry glint that was there before.
“Whoa!” Steve almost jumps out of his chair. He’d forgotten about those. Or perhaps, repressed the memory of them.
“Is that so?” Tony looks over at Steve with an eyebrow raised that clearly says I did know, play along.
Steve schools his face and looks at Peter. “Now, Pete, I thought we had the start of a truce, here…”
“Tentative,” Peter smiles mischievously again, and it kind of reminds him of the way Bucky used to smile before they did something ill-advised. “I think it would be good bonding if we all watched them later, wouldn’t it?”
“That sounds great, Pete,” Tony smiles, his head rolling against the pillow as he looks back and forth between the two of them. Pepper’s eyes dart between the three of them, clearly confused.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m glad everyone’s smiling,” she rubs her swollen belly. “Why don’t you go upstairs to wait for your aunt while we get Tony nice and doped up again?”
“And so I can pee in a plastic bottle in peace,” Tony reaches out and squeezes Peter’s hand. “Go on, bud. And please stay inside and with Steve. For me.”
“I will, Mr. Stark,” Peter says sheepishly, lowering his head so Tony can reach his hair, then standing up from the chair.
“Alright, get out of here. We’ll let you know when Happy is up and yelling, or I’m back in the land of the aware, whichever is first,” Tony pushes gently against his back.
Steve stands up to follow him out of the room, feeling infinitely more at ease than he did when Tony first told him to get Peter. He waits until Peter is out of the door before speaking. “We’ll get there,” he whispers.
“I know. You’ll be Uncle Steve eventually,” Tony nods. “Thank you, Cap,” he says emphatically, and Steve feels a bit of the weight lift in his stomach, knowing Tony trusts him enough to trust him with Peter.
“You’re welcome, Tony,” Steve says, equally seriously, then smiles. “So, under his bed?”
“In the Spongebob backpack. He’s also got a resin hammer and a fake shield. It’s ridiculous.”
“Tony,” Pepper admonishes, settling in the chair Peter vacated and reaching to pull the rolling tray over to her. It barely fits above her belly.
“What? He’s ridiculous.”
“Are you coming?” Peter yells from down the hall. “Jeez!”
“I’m coming, Peter,” Steve calls back. “We’ll bring you some pineapple pizza to eat while we bond over those videos.”
“Is that a threat, Rogers?”
“A promise,” Steve winks at Pepper then turns on his heel to follow Peter out of the medbay. Progress. But he does still need to clue Tony in on that Flash-jerk.