Chapter Text
"Peter, can you talk?"
James Barnes rarely called Peter. Actually, people in general called Peter very rarely (he's a gen z and very much a texter, thank you very much), but James never calls Peter. It's always Sam who calls and he can maintain a radio silence lasting for a couple of months easy peasy. The communication between the three of them consisted of 90% of discussions regarding the Falcon's and the Winter Soldier's gear and their updates and repairs, with the final 10% being mostly cat pictures and very rare memes if Peter felt especially daring. Not that either of them was particularly difficult to chat with. Quite the contrary. Sam seemed always happy to listen to Peter's ramblings and James always at the very least tried out all of Peter's suggestions for the pop culture he thought James just had to know of. Peter still considered convincing the Winter Soldier to watch all of the Disney Classics in the span of a few weeks to be one of his greatest achievements. The problem was mostly in the underlying tension between Tony and James and Sam. Peter didn't know how his dad would react if he was any closer to the pair than he already was. While their relationship seemed mostly distant and neutral, Peter could see that some things were bothering all three of them and Peter wasn't one to willingly poke a sleeping bear. At least, not very often.
"Uh, yeah, sure? What's up?" If it was James calling him, there must be something seriously big going on. Was Sam okay?
"Sam and I are leaving for Louisiana for a while. To get away from... We're visiting Sam's family." Okay, so nothing too serious then.
"Fair. Can I help with anything? Need any supplies or something as a backup? I think I should be able to get you some-"
"No. We're alright. Thanks, kid."
"Ookay, so no help then? Something else then?
"No. Or yes, we do need help with something. I know this is at very short notice, but everything is right now and our usual people are unavailable and-"
"I can help, don't worry about it. Hit me with it."
"I'm not worried. Okay, we need someone to catsit Alpine."
...
"That's it?"
"Again, I understand that this is at a very short notice and"
"James."
"And if Sam's nephews weren't badly allergic to cats I'd bring her with me in an instant and"
"James"
"And the neighbours who used to check on her just moved out and we don't know the rest of our neighbours-"
"James! Look who's rambling now. I'd love to hang with Alpine for a while. She's the best cat I know."
"... You'll do it?"
"Yes, obviously."
"Ah, very well then. Thank you, Peter. Seriously. You are the fifth person I'm calling about this."
"Welp, those four others don't understand what they're missing. Though, I'm kinda impressed you know more than four people."
"Okay, shut up, kid. I'm sending you her care instructions. Feel free to stay over if you want to, we have a spare bedroom. Also, help yourself to whatever's in the cupboards, we don't mind."
"Sure. Any idea how long you'll be staying in Louisiana?"
"We're not sure yet. Is that a problem?"
"Nooo, not at all, I'm cool with anything, it's not like we have anything planned for the near future anyway... y'know."
"Hmm."
"Say hello to the Wilsons for me! I'll promise to send cat pictures as often as possible!"
"Please don't. Or... maybe. Take care. Bye."
So James' talkativeness had run out. This was the longest conversation they had had. Ever. So Peter would be catsitting for superheroes. That seemed fun. There was just one issue. How to tell about it to his dad?
=^._.^= ∫
"Catsitting?" Tony was visibly anxious when Peter stepped into his dad's lab. Which was to be expected. It was the long-dreaded day after all.
"Yea, they're going away for a while and couldn't get anyone else to do it."
"And where does this cat live? Do you need a ride there and back?"
"Just on the other side of Central Park from here. Easy trip to swing back and forth. Literally. Although they did say that I'm also free to stay over if I wanted to but-"
"Stay." Tony put the gauntlet he had been tinkering with down and turned around to face Peter. His face was uncharacteristically serious. It caught Peter a little off guard.
"Dad?" Tony reached to grab Peter's shoulder and gently pulled him just a little closer so he could look his son straight in the eyes.
"I don't say this lightly, Bambino, and I hate this from the bottom of my heart, but I'm telling you. If they are fine with it, stay at their place for a while, okay? I would maybe be able to sleep at least a wink if I knew that you were away from their reach for the time being. I don't want you in the near vicinity of them."
Peter felt a deep urge to pull away, to make this conversation stop. What was happening? Doesn't his father trust him? Was something bigger going on?
"So you're sending me away? Don't you think I can handle them?"
"No. I don't think you can handle them. And do you know how I know that? Because I don't know how to handle them. Nobody does. I trust you and your skills, I do with all my heart. But this is so far up that 'Adult Nonesense' that you kids are so eager to complain and moan about, that I want you to be separated from it. Honestly, I was about to ask if maybe Asgard or Sanctum would have been able to house you for a while and, you know, let you run around wild poking your nose into their magical stuff. And we can still do that if you want to, but also if you want to stay a bit closer, I'm more than fine with that."
"I... I mean hanging around Asgard sounds fun, but then the cat would be left unattended and I'm guessing Stephen is going to be a big part of this whole thing, isn't he? So, can I come home at all, then?"
"What? Of course! Of course you can, Figlio! We're not- I'm not kicking you out! No, no, I explained it badly, I'm sorry. You can come home whenever you want, just, let us know when you're coming and we'll make sure you won't be bothered by them. I just... I just don't want you to be stuck in the middle of all this and-"
"And me spending most of my time away from them would make you feel a little better? I mean I get it. I guess I can treat it kind of as a practice round for when I'll one day be living on my own, yeah?"
Tony gave a dim smile at the joke and pulled Peter into a tight hug.
"Sure, let's think of it like that for now."
Note to self, Peter thought, don't let dad know, whose cat I will be catsitting, exactly...
=^._.^= ∫
Peter saw a glimpse of them as he was leaving. Peter had packed lightly, assuming he'd be popping by in a day or two anyway. He was just coming out of his room, everything ready for him to go and swing his way to James' and Sam's place when he heard all the noise coming from the common area of the penthouse. Confused, he moved quickly and quietly towards the commotion to investigate the source of it, but he already had his suspicions. Sure they we not supposed to be in the penthouse, but considering everything, Peter wouldn't put this sort of thing past them. And so, he wasn't surprised to see the backs of the remains of the old Avengers in his living room when he popped his head around the corner. Unsurprisingly Tony was also there, as was Rhodey, Carol (Peter still had no words to describe his excitement about finally meeting her a few days ago), Pepper and Stephen. The tension was so high, you could cut through it with a knife. Luckily, it hadn't yet gotten to the point where someone might be wielding a knife. At least not yet. No, right now there was a silent stare-off going on. That didn't last long from Peter's point of view.
"Tony, can we talk about things like adults here?" Rogers sighed. Tony raised an eyebrow.
"You tell me, Rogers. Can we?" Rogers' shoulders seemed to tense, maybe from annoyance. It was difficult to judge their emotions from behind.
"Tony-" Romanoff was about to speak when she was cut off by the elevator doors opening. Peter couldn't at first see the newcomer from his angle, but Haweye's strangled "Phil..." gave it quite easily away. So that was unexpected.
"Clint", the agent now visible to even Peter smiled pleasantly. He always did that when he was especially upset. Scary business. "You'll come with me now."
"I- what? Phil? Hold on, wait!" but it was too late. Coulson had already grabbed Hawkeye by the arm and was pulling him back into the elevator. While weakly struggling to free himself, Hawkeye's eyes briefly landed on Peter. Time seemed to slow, as they stared at each other. Peter had been noticed. But as quickly as it all had happened, Coulson had made it to the elevator and both men disappeared from Peter's field of vision. His heart pounding, Peter decided to take his leave before any more accidents could happen. He swiftly backed up back into the hallway where he had come from and headed towards the side exit he liked to use when he left to patrol as Spider-Man. He'd have to ask Karen to let Tony know he'd left without saying goodbye. Alpine was waiting for him.
=^._.^= ∫
Peter had gotten a little distracted while swinging towards the apartment. He had stopped a mugging, helped people all around the city, hung around in Central Park taking pictures and sharing stories with kids and fans, and prevented a car crash by sheer luck of being around. It was well past dusk when Peter finally made it into James' and Sam's apartment. He was silently cursing at his tardiness, for according to the instructions James had sent, Alpine's usual evening meal time had passed half an hour ago. Being late was just outright rude of him. He dropped onto the roof of the apartment building, throwing a hoodie on in a feeble attempt to not drag any attention to himself in the stairway. Not that anyone was there to witness the teen walking down the stairs wearing a Stark Industries hoodie over a Spider-Man suit. Peter already had a spare key from two previous times he had had to run over to the apartment for some emergency gear repairs.
A polite little meow greeted Peter from behind the door. The white cat was sitting just behind it, looking at Peter, waiting. She must be hungry, Peter mused and stepped into the apartment. The place wasn't anything special, there were two rooms, a kitchen and a living room taking up most of the space. It was nice and cosy and reflected the personalities of the two superheroes living there well. One of the bedroom doors was open, revealing a neutral guest room, with a made bed and a comfortable-looking armchair in the corner. The kitchen was an organised chaos, with utensils, cookbooks, and an endless list of all types of little clutter filling the countertops and the small dining table. There were kids' drawings hung on the fridge, most of which could roughly be deciphered to be of Sam, but the grey arm in some of them suggested that James had also gotten a portrait or two made of him. It was, to put it simply, endearing. The living room was as cluttered as the kitchen, filled with books, blankets and cat toys. Most of the space was taken up by a massive couch, big enough to fit two grown men on it.
What was worrying about the sofa right now, was that it was occupied.
"Ughh, who are you?"
Someone was laying on James' and Sam's couch, and they looked as if they were hurt. Shit.