Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter watched with wide eyes as his family suited up, excitement bubbling inside him. As they prepared to leave, he hid behind his favorite chair, peeking to see them walking tall and proud. The word that suited them best was mighty.

As they stepped outside, Peter dashed out from his hiding spot, trying to mimic their proud stride. He giggled when his dad scooped him up and held him by the shoulders.

“Look at my little superhero!” Steve chuckled, and Peter giggled back.

“Daddy, I’m super mighty!” he declared, puffing out his chest.

The quinjet was waiting for them, and as they made their way outside, Peter felt a mix of excitement and sadness. He knew they had to go, but he didn’t want them to leave.

“I will miss you, my Avengers!” Peter cried, his voice full of sincerity.

Natasha kissed his forehead gently. “We’ll miss you too, sweetheart.”

“Be good for Uncle Bucky, okay?” Steve said, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“I will, I will!” Peter nodded enthusiastically. “I love Uncle Bucky!”

Bucky crossed his arms, smirking down at Peter. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna have a blast, right, little man?”

“Yay! Party time!” Peter squealed.

“Just remember, no sneaking cookies!” Clint chimed in with a wink. “We need some for our secret agent training!”

“Uncle Clint, you’re silly!” Peter giggled, sticking out his tongue.

“Watch out for the cookies, champ!” Tony teased, crouching down to Peter’s level. “I might need you to save some for me when I get back!”

“Okay, Uncle Tony! I’ll save the biggest cookie just for you!” Peter promised, bouncing on his toes.

“Make sure to have some adventures while we’re gone!” Sam added, giving Peter a playful nudge. “And don’t let Bucky turn you into a soldier just yet!”

“Yeah! I’m not a soldier, I’m a superhero!” Peter declared proudly.

“Don’t forget to call me if things get too crazy, alright?” Bruce said with a smile. “And I mean it—no Hulk smash until I get back!”

Peter giggled. “Okay, Uncle Bruce! I won’t smash anything!”

T’Challa approached with a soft smile. “Remember, little one, you are strong like the heart of Wakanda. Be brave while we’re away.”

“I will, Uncle T’Challa!” Peter said, his voice was full of determination.

“Aunt Carol is counting on you to keep Bucky in line!” Carol added, grinning down at him. “He might need a little help”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Carol! I’ll help Uncle Bucky!” Peter promised, looking around at his family with wide, innocent eyes.

As the Quinjet's engines roared to life, Steve knelt, concern etched on his face. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay, buddy?”

Peter nodded, beaming. “I’ll be the bestest boy! You come back soon, okay?”

“We’ll be back before you know it, champ,” Steve assured him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Just promise me you will look after yourself and Uncle Bucky, okay?”

Peter nodded.

“Don’t worry, punk. We’ve got this,” Bucky smirked, adjusting Peter in his arms as the little boy giggled. “With Alexei and Yelena around…they’ll be like a couple of overgrown puppies fighting for his attention. Just wait”

Natasha chuckled, arms crossed as she watched them. “They’ll be fine with him. If anything, Peter’s the one they’ll have to keep up with”

Steve let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Alright. Just don’t let him wear you out too much,” he teased, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Take care, and we’ll see you in a week”

With one last wave, the Avengers boarded the Quinjet, leaving Peter standing proudly, a small superhero in a world of giants, as he watched his uncles Thor, Tony, Sam, and Aunt Carol soar into the skies.

Peter’s smile nearly faltered as he watched the Quinjet carry his family away, his uncles and aunt soaring into the sky. But his frown quickly turned to a loud giggle when he felt arms wrap around his waist. Bucky lifted him effortlessly, a playful smirk on his face.

“Was that a frown I spotted with my little eye?” Bucky teased. “Do I need to launch a tickle attack to banish that frown from your handsome face?” His grin was mischievous as he felt Peter squirm with laughter.

“No!” Peter shouted, clutching Bucky's black leather shirt as he giggled uncontrollably.

“Hmmm...that's what I thought,” Bucky replied, chuckling as he hoisted Peter onto his shoulders. 

Together, they strolled back into the tower, eagerly anticipating the new day that lay ahead while the Avengers were away.

******

Bucky slept soundly, the weight of his recent therapy sessions lifting some of the burdens he carried. A soft creak at the door broke the morning stillness, but he merely smirked in his sleep, blissfully unaware of the tiny intruder making his way toward him. He felt the familiar sensation of little fingers crawling onto the bed.

“Good morning, Uncle Bucky!” Peter chirped, his voice bright and full of joy.

Bucky responded with a sleepy grin, burrowing deeper into the blanket. He let out a theatrical groan, pretending to sleep. Peter squealed with delight, then yanked the blanket off, planting his tiny hands on his hips. “Wake up, mister!” he commanded, the authority in his voice making Bucky’s smile widen.

“Mmm...five more minutes,” Bucky mumbled, feigning sleep again.

“Wake up, mister!” Peter insisted, his tiny arms crossed over his chest as he tried to look stern. In a swift move, he was grabbed by Bucky by the waist and flung himself onto the bed beside him, giggling as Bucky's fingers began their usual tickle attack.

“You sneaky little spider!” Bucky laughed, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Do you dare disrupt my beauty sleep? There’s going to be punishment for that!”

Peter erupted into a fit of giggles, squirming as Bucky continued to tickle him. The sound of Peter’s laughter filled the room, pure and innocent, wrapping around Bucky like a warm hug. Once Bucky finally ceased the tickling, Peter scooted closer, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Now...what’s the big idea of waking me up, huh, squirt?” Bucky asked, ruffling Peter’s hair.

Peter clapped his tiny hands together, his face lighting up with joy. “Grandpa and Aunt Yelena are coming today!” His enthusiasm was contagious, filling the air with warmth.

“Oh, right! I totally forgot!” Bucky chuckled, the thought of them coming and staying bringing a genuine smile to his face. He just hoped that things would turn out well. “Especially your Aunt Yelena”

Peter let out another round of giggles. “Uncle Bucky and Aunt Yelena kissy kissy!” He said this with the utmost seriousness as if sharing the greatest secret in the world.

Bucky gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Peter! Who told you that?” he asked, feigning shock.

“Mommy and Daddy and Uncle Sam!” Peter declared, his innocence shining through.

Bucky smirked, shaking his head. “Of course! Well, I might need to talk to them when they get back. But since you mentioned it…there must be punishment!”

Peter burst into laughter once more as Bucky resumed his tickling. In that moment, Bucky's heart swelled with affection, memories of his sister Becca and carefree days with Steve flooding his mind.

When they were normal.

When everything revolved around that one simple word: normal.

Bucky hummed to himself as he made breakfast, while Peter chirped happily, staring out the large window at the vast city below. The bright morning light streamed into the tower, illuminating the room and making the clouds look fluffy and white.

“Alright, buddy! How about some pancakes and eggs?” Bucky smirked, placing a kiddie plate of food in front of Peter. The little boy bounced in his seat, clapping his hands with excitement.

“And cookies!” Peter added, bouncing even more.

Bucky chuckled. “Now, now, not until after you eat your meal. Remember the biggest cookie? It’ll be waiting for you!” He held up the spatula playfully, making Peter giggle.

After they finished their breakfast, they settled on the large couch to enjoy some peaceful TV time, with Peter resting contentedly on Bucky's lap. The morning was cozy and filled with the delightful aroma of breakfast.

Suddenly, they heard the ding of the elevator. Peter gasped, his eyes wide with excitement. “They’re here! Grandpa! Auntie Yelena!” He bounced eagerly, ready to jump off Bucky’s lap.

Bucky gently grabbed him around the waist, eliciting a giggle from Peter. He held him by the shoulders, guiding him to the entrance. Kneeling down to match Peter's level, Bucky's expression turned serious.

“Now, Peter,” he said firmly, “your auntie and Grandpa are fine, but remember what I, your daddy, Uncle Sam, and even Mr. Fury told you about the others on my team, okay?”

“Okay, Uncle Bucky!” Peter nodded earnestly, his little face serious for a moment.

Bucky smiled, appreciating Peter's understanding. He stood up just as the elevator doors opened, revealing Bucky's team.

Chapter Text

Peter giggled as he bounced excitedly before charging forward, giving them no time to react.

Well—except for two of them.

Alexei let out a booming laugh, and Yelena smirked as they watched the little bundle of energy rush at them. Without hesitation, Alexei scooped Peter up, hoisting him high into the air. The four-year-old squealed, waving his arms as he giggled uncontrollably.

“Hiya, pipsqueak!” Alexei grinned, holding Peter securely in his arms.

“Hi, Grandaddy! Hi, Auntie Yelena!” Peter cackled, still squirming with excitement.

Bucky leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with a smirk as Yelena ruffled Peter’s curly brown hair.

“Hiya, peanut,” she greeted, making Peter giggle as she continued mussing his silky locks. Then, her smirk widened as she met Bucky’s gaze. “Hello, Winter Soldier” 

“Hello, White Widow. You look good today,” Bucky teased.

Yelena walked toward him and promptly punched his metal shoulder.

“And you look charming,” she shot back, smirking.

“Why, thank you,” Bucky replied, amused. 

They were interrupted by Peter’s giggles. Turning back, they saw Alexei still holding the child, grinning mischievously.

“Are you two sure you don’t wanna kiss? I can cover Petrov’s eyes,” Alexei teased.

Peter giggled harder as Bucky and Yelena both shot him an unimpressed glare. Alexei, unfazed, merely shrugged.

“Just saying,” he continued. “After all...it’d be nice for Melina and me to have more grandchildren” He smirked at the thought but then glanced down at Peter, his expression softening. But this one in his arms? He was already perfect.

A flat, unimpressed voice cut through the moment.

“Can we get out of the elevator now?” 

Alexei sighed dramatically before stepping aside, allowing the rest of the group to step out. Peter, still in his grandpa’s arms, immediately gasped in awe at the sight of his new visitors.

They stood before him, their expressions...well, completely unreadable.

Blank stares. Apathetic. Unimpressed.

Peter, entirely unfazed, grinned and waved. “Hi!” he boomed.

John smirked—though his expression remained mostly neutral. “So...Winter Soldier,” he drawled. “This the Cap’s shrimp?”

Bucky gave a short nod. “This is Peter”

“Whatever. Shrimp works for him,” John said smugly.

Beside him, Ava and Antonia continued to stare at the grinning child in silence. Meanwhile, Alexei and Yelena glared daggers at the US Agent.

Peter tilted his head, crossing his tiny arms with a pout. “Me not shrimp! I'm a big boy!”

Bucky smirked as Yelena and Alexei exchanged amused glances. Even John raised an eyebrow, letting out a short huff of laughter.

“Hmph. Kid's got guts,” he admitted.

Yelena smirked. “Told you. He’s a peanut”

Peter’s face lit up. “Peanut okay!” he chirped. She had been calling him that since the day he was born.

Ava stood in silence, her sharp gaze scanning the little boy, taking in his features. Peter noticed her staring and beamed, waving enthusiastically.

“Hi!”

Ava barely reacted, her voice quiet yet firm. “He’s smaller than I expected.”

Peter gasped dramatically. “You talk cool! Like Momma! And Auntie Yelena! And Auntie Carol!” he exclaimed, making Bucky, Alexei, and Yelena smirk.

Ava blinked, momentarily thrown off. Beside her, Antonia raised an eyebrow. “He’s…loud. And hyperactive. For a child of the Black Widow,” she muttered in Russian.

Peter recognized the Russian language and, while only one word stood out. “Hyper?” He gasped again, eyes wide with excitement. “You talk cool too! Was that spy talk? Like Mommy and Auntie Yelena?”

Yelena snorted. “Spy talk?” she repeated, grinning.

Peter giggled.

Antonia’s lips twitched as if fighting back a smirk. “Something like that,” she admitted.

Peter beamed before turning to Alexei, cupping his hands around his mouth to whisper—though it was loud enough for everyone to hear. “Grandpa, are they like secret ninjas? Like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

Alexei, Bucky, and Yelena burst into chuckles.

John let out a forced chuckle, while Ava and Antonia fought to keep their expressions neutral. “Yeah, kid. Something like that. Maybe.”

“Oooh, cool!” Peter’s hazel eyes sparkled with excitement.

Alexei ruffled his hair. “See? Tougher than Bucky, his dad, and the others—especially you, Walker.”

“And more handsome,” Yelena added with a smirk.

Peter giggled.

“They’re right about that, Walker,” Bucky teased.

John rolled his eyes. “Great. A toddler’s showing me up”

“Don’t take it personally,” Bucky smirked. “Kid’s just got higher standards than you”

Alexei and Yelena laughed while John scoffed, shaking his head. Meanwhile, Peter just smiled brightly at the group, eyes filled with pure, innocent awe.

He already liked them.

Yelena ruffled his curls. “Alright, little spider, meet the Thunderbolts”

Alexei leaned down and whispered proudly, “I made up the name”

Peter giggled, but then his face lit up with an idea. “Can I play with them?”

The room went silent.

John, Ava, and Antonia stiffened, their eyes darting toward Bucky and Alexei. Play? With a child?

Bucky only grinned. “One step at a time, kiddo. The fun’s just beginning”

Peter clapped his hands, giggling excitedly. Meanwhile, the US Agent, Ghost, and Taskmaster exchanged wary glances.

Play? With a child?

That word didn’t even exist in their vocabulary.

And yet…Peter was already looking at them like they were his new best friends from Uncle Bucky's friends.

Of the Thunderbolts.

Chapter Text

While John, Ava, and Antonia kept their distance from Peter, only Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei stayed close to the boy, engaging in what they called playing—wasting time with a child instead of training, discipline, or anything remotely useful.

Typical.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, hidden in the shadows outside his door, her gaze locked onto him. His room was cluttered with toys, trinkets, and memorabilia of the Avengers—especially Black Widow and Captain America. Drawings, proudly displayed, lined the walls, each one a glimpse into the world of a child untouched by the brutality she had known.

Antonia watched the child as he sat drawing, his soft humming filling the air. His little hands moved with focus, completely lost in his world of colors. She didn’t know why, but something about the sight made her...jealous.

She longed for something like that. A different life. A worthy husband, a child of her own—something beyond what her father had made her into. Something more.

Before Peter could notice her, she quietly stepped away, heading to the training room. The space was vast, far grander than anything in the Red Room. Even the air felt...different. Warm. Almost safe. It unsettled her.

She pulled out her sword, gripping it tightly as she slashed through the empty air, moving with the deadly precision drilled into her since childhood. Spin. Strike. Kick. Again. Each motion felt like cutting through the past, through the chains that still clung to her.

Then—clapping.

Her body tensed, muscles coiling for attack, but she froze when she saw him. Peter stood there, his hazel eyes wide with amazement, his tiny hands smacking together in admiration.

“Yay! You’re cool like my daddy! He’s cool with his shield too!” he beamed, bouncing on his feet.

Antonia stared, her icy gaze unshaken. Slowly, she slid her sword back into its holster. “Can I help you? It’s rude to sneak up on people...child of the Black Widow”

Peter only giggled and rushed toward her. “Can you teach me how to kick bad guys’ butts?”

She scoffed. “You? Fight?” She let out a short laugh. “You’re too small. Not ready.” She turned away, shaking off the past that clawed at her.

But Peter wasn’t fazed. “I wanna be a hero like Mommy and Daddy! And my Avengers! I wanna save people!”

Antonia hesitated, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Really?”

Peter nodded eagerly, his excitement unshaken.

She turned fully to face him, crossing her arms. “Prove that you are worthy—fit for combat and ready to conquer”

“Woor-thee?” He scrunched his nose, clearly struggling with her choice of words. He really needed to learn how she talked.

Her gaze remained steady as she tilted her head slightly. “Show me how you fight.” This time, her voice was softer—almost unreadable.

Peter’s tiny fists clenched as he bounced on his feet, his face scrunched in deep concentration. “Okay! I fight now!” he declared, determination shining in his big hazel eyes.

Antonia simply crossed her arms, watching in silence.

Peter threw a punch—if it could even be called that—his little arm swinging wide and off balance. His other hand followed, mimicking something he must have seen on TV. Then came the kicks. Sloppy. Wobbly. His tiny foot barely lifted off the ground before he nearly toppled over.

But he didn’t stop.

He grunted with every swing. “Hya! Take that! And that!” He jumped—more like a hop—before spinning in an unsteady circle. “Super cool ninja kick! Pow! Slam! Wham!”

Antonia blinked.

She had seen warriors in the Red Room trained to kill with deadly precision. She had watched fighters break bones without hesitation. But this?

This was something else.

His punches were weak, his kicks uncoordinated, his form ridiculous. But the look on his face…the way he gritted his teeth, the way he huffed and puffed through each exaggerated move…

She just stood there. Watching. Staring.

And then, before she realized it, something inside her chest softened.

Peter stumbled on his own foot and landed on his butt with a surprised “Oof!” He blinked, looking up at her. “Did I win?” He asked, smiling. 

Antonia’s lips parted slightly. She should have told him no. Should have told him he was sloppy, weak, untrained, and unworthy of pursuing such lofty ambitions.

Instead, her voice came out quieter than she expected.

“…Almost. Perhaps so”

Peter’s face lit up. “Yay! I almost won!” He giggled, jumping up again. “I gotta practice more! Then I be strong like Mommy and Daddy and you!”

Antonia just stared. She had no idea why she wasn’t walking away. No idea why this tiny, clumsy little thing wasn’t annoying her.

Peter bounced on his feet, grinning. He threw up his tiny fists, excitement buzzing in his voice. “Antonia, fight me! I win! Fight! Battle!”

She stared at him, fighting the smirk threatening to break free. “You wish to fight me? Battle me, the Taskmaster? You are either brave like your mother and the rest of your family...or very mistaken”

It was almost playful, a foreign tone in her voice. 

Strange.

Peter giggled, bouncing in place. “I will win! Put ‘em up!”

She sighed, lowering herself to one knee so they were level. This is humiliating. But for some reason, she wasn’t nearly as bothered by it as she should be.

“Alright, little warrior,” she said, arms crossed. “Do your worst”

Peter let out a determined giggle and threw his punches—sloppy, exaggerated swipes at the air. His kicks were just as wild, barely making it above her knee. Antonia readied herself to grab and pin him like she had seen Bucky, Alexei, and Yelena do when they played with him. She had observed how they’d wrestle him down, earning nothing but squirming and laughter.

But before she could react, he attacked.

Not with a punch.

Not with a kick.

But with a hug.

Peter launched himself at her, tiny arms wrapping around her as tightly as they could. “I win! Hugs mean you lose!” he declared, his giggles vibrating against her shoulder.

Antonia froze.

For the first time in her life—the first time in her cursed life—she didn’t know what to do. She simply sat there, letting the boy cling to her like she was something safe, something good.

Something she had never been to before.

Her arms twitched, almost shaking with hesitation. The urge to return the hug was there, clawing at her in a way she didn’t understand.

Instead, she scoffed. “Hmph…very unorthodox strategy”

Peter only giggled harder, squeezing her like a teddy bear. “I like you!” he beamed.

His laughter echoed through the training room, filling the cold, empty space with something...different. Something warm.

Antonia stole a glance at him, her expression unreadable. But if one looked closely enough, they might catch a hint of something—small, barely there.

A smirk.

Maybe...watching this child wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter Text

John sat in the training room, gripping his shield, his jaw clenched. His fingers tightened around the edges as he stared at its surface, seeing his own reflection twisted with frustration. This shield wasn’t the shield. It wasn’t Captain America’s damn shield. It wasn’t his shield. But it should have been.

He had fought for his country and bled for it. He had done what was necessary, yet the shield had been ripped from his grasp. Now, Steve Rogers had a wife, a family, and a kid. And what did John have? A hand-me-down title, a hollow replacement.

His thoughts soured further as he remembered Antonia. She had been warming up to him—to the little shrimp, just like Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei. Even Bucky—the one who should have understood what it was like to be discarded—was paying attention to the kid. 

John exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face, forcing himself to push the irritation down. He just wanted to be left alone.

Unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to care.

“Hi, Johnny!”

Johnny?

John stiffened at the high-pitched voice echoing through the training room. He looked up and immediately regretted it.

Peter Parker stood at the entrance, grinning ear to ear, his little hands gripping the doorframe as if he had to physically hold himself back from running inside. His big, hazel eyes sparkled with excitement.

John stared at him, unimpressed. Of course, it had to be him.

“What do you want, shrimp?” he muttered, hoping the kid would take the hint and leave.

Peter, however, either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care. He skipped forward, practically bouncing on his tiny feet. “Come play with me!” he announced, beaming.

John blinked at him, completely thrown off. “Uh…kid, I’m not really the playing type”

Peter giggled, unfazed. “That’s okay! You can try! I can teach you!”

Before John could protest, Peter reached out and touched his shield. John’s muscles tensed, his instincts screaming to yank it away, but he forced himself to stay still.

“Ooooh, cool shield!” Peter marveled, his small fingers tracing over the surface.

John stared at him, momentarily speechless. The kid wasn’t treating it like some prize to be won—he was just…admiring it.

“Cool like Daddy’s!” Peter added, his face lighting up even more.

John’s eye twitched. Of course, he had to bring up...that shield.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well…I made mine myself”

Peter gasped, eyes wide. “Really?!”

John smirked, his usual cocky expression returning. “Yup. A work of art, if I do say so myself” 

Peter stared at the shield with pure awe before his face scrunched up in thought. “Daddy’s shield was made by Uncle Tony’s daddy! Both of yours are cool!”

John’s smirk faltered. The mention of that shield–his shield—stung.

“Hmph. A fancy shield that should’ve been mine,” he muttered under his breath.

Peter tilted his head, not noticing John's bitterness. Instead, he puffed out his chest proudly. “Daddy said that when I get big,” he declared, “he and Uncle Sammy are gonna let me have the shield!”

John burned his eyes into him. “Really?”

Peter nodded excitedly.

John forced a chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “Hmph…Well, when that time comes, don’t let anyone take it from you, shrimp. You hear me?” His voice dropped slightly, his eyes darkening. “Own the way it must be owned and prove yourself to them...to everyone that you are meant to hold and have it and not to let anyone dare take it. Anyone. Got it?”

Peter gave him an enthusiastic nod followed by a cheerful thumbs-up. “You got it!”

John just smirked, shaking his head. 

The kid was something else.

Peter took John’s large hand and began to tug him along. “Come play with me, Johnny!” he exclaimed, beaming with excitement. John scoffed at the boy.

“I’m not really the playing type, shrimp,” he replied, his tone deadpan.

Peter, undeterred by John’s attitude, continued to smile as he pulled the former owner of his father's shield. “Don’t worry! I’ll teach you to play! It’ll be fun! I taught Uncle T’Challa and Gramps Fury, and they played with me! I can teach you too!”

John stared at him, letting out a deep sigh of defeat. “If I play with you, shrimp, will you promise to let me have a minute of peace?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh!”

With a sigh of surrender, John stood up, still holding his shield. “Fine. I’ll play with you,” he grunted, suddenly being yanked along by the giggling four-year-old.

As they entered Peter's room, John was surrounded by the vibrant energy of toys and trinkets from his Avengers family, especially those of his mom and dad. One item caught his attention more than others: Captain America’s shield.

From the outside world of the tower, he could see Captain America being a hero, worshipped and thanked by many, including this child who looked up to the super soldier.

Peter held up his toys proudly. “Let’s play superhero showdown! You can be my daddy, and I’ll be Uncle Tony!”

John glared at him, his gaze intense, but Peter only continued to smile. “Must I do this?” he asked, sounding unamused.

“Yes! Play with me!” Peter bounced with energy, holding up the Captain America toy.

John groaned internally. This wasn’t his thing. He should be out there fighting crime, not babysitting a kid.

“Fine” He took the Captain America toy and lowered himself to the floor, joining Peter in play.

Peter grabbed his Iron Man toy and held it up. “Captain America! The Red Skull has taken hostages and captured the Avengers! We must save them together!”

John held his toy, a smirk creeping onto his face as he replied in a deadpan tone, “Right! We must conquer!”

Peter jumped up, spinning in circles while making whooshing sounds, pretending the Iron Man toy was flying. John sat on the floor, watching the kid with curiosity. Peter then grabbed the Red Skull toy, holding it up dramatically.

“Mwa-ha-ha-ha! You fools! You will never defeat me!” Peter declared, his voice dripping with faux evil as he prepared a Lego cage filled with his toys.

“Johnny! You’re up!” he called.

“What?” John asked, slightly confused.

“My dad!” Peter pointed to the toy representing his mom. “Captain America! Help us!”

With a sigh, John held the toy. “Let them go, Red Skull!”

Peter held up his Iron Man toy. “Surrender, Red Skull, and spare the Avengers!” He pretended to be the villain, laughing menacingly. “Never! You’ll never save them from my grasp, Captain America and Iron Man! Hail Hydra! Hydra shall rule and conquer!”

John smirked, getting into character. “This is your last warning, Red Skull! Surrender the Avengers, or you will pay the price!” He raised the tiny shield, ready for action.

With a giggle, Peter held up his Uncle Tony toy. “Surrender, Red Skull!” He raised the Red Skull toy high, cackling, “Hail Hydra! This battle is between you and me, Captain America!” He then swiped a punch at the Iron Man toy. “Pow!” The Iron Man toy landed on the floor as Peter charged at the Captain America toy. Before John could react, Peter raised the Red Skull toy triumphantly. “I have defeated Captain America!”

John blinked in surprise, then smirked. “Whoa, whoa! I’m not defeated! You didn’t even give me instructions on what to do, shrimp! You cheated!”

“No, I did not!” Peter barked back.

“Yes, you did!” John argued playfully, leaning closer.

“Did not!” Peter giggled, determination shining in his eyes.

“Yes, you did! I want a rematch!” John exclaimed, a playful glint in his expression.

“Oh, no! Too late for that!” Peter laughed, bouncing with excitement.

“Oh no?” John said, feigning shock.

“Oh yes!” Peter replied, bouncing even higher.

“Who says?” John challenged, crossing his arms.

“I say, okay?” Peter declared with a confident nod.

“Okay and—!” John paused, looking at the giggling Peter. A grin spread across his face.

“Why…shrimpy soldier…I think you tricked me!” John smirked, narrowing one eye at him, which only made Peter giggle more.

“I think you need to pay the price for cheating and tricking me, shrimp. And especially for getting your aunt, uncle, and granddad to agree that you’re more charming and smarter than me,” John smirked as Peter burst into more giggles. “Oh yeah, you need to be punished.”

Peter cackled and tried to scramble away, but John was quicker. He grabbed him around the waist, making Peter squeal with laughter as he wriggled in his grasp. Pinning him down, John grinned as Peter kicked his tiny legs, giggling uncontrollably. Then, with exaggerated slowness, John lifted Peter’s shirt. Peter’s laughter escalated before John even touched him.

“Now…I might spare you…if you admit you’re a little trickster shrimp,” John teased. “Maybe then, I might let you go”

Peter, his face already red from giggling, beamed mischievously. “Uh-uh!” he cackled defiantly.

John’s smirk widened. “This is your last warning, shrimp. Surrender now, or face the consequences”

Peter shook his head wildly. “Uh-uh!”

John let out a dramatic sigh. “Well then…like those who dared to steal my first shield…there must be consequences.” His grin turned devious. “And get ready, because this is the most brutal punishment I’ve ever delivered.”

Peter let out a fresh burst of giggles, but the moment John’s fingers wiggled over his belly, the giggles exploded into full-blown laughter. He shrieked as he kicked his legs even more, squirming under the relentless tickle attack. John, laughing himself now, showed no mercy.

“Stohahaha! Nooo!” Peter cackled, twisting in John’s grasp.

“Admit it! Admit your defeat, soldier! Confess your crimes!” John barked, his tone mock-serious.

“I admit it! I tricked you!” Peter howled between fits of laughter.

At last, John relented, letting Peter catch his breath as he lay there giggling. With an arrogant smirk, John crossed his arms. “And that’s how we learn”

Peter sat up, still giggling as he wiped at his teary eyes. Then, with a sly grin, he declared, “I tricked you again!”

John froze, blinking at him. Then his smirk turned downright evil.

“Oh, you really wanna do this again?”

The room filled with laughter once more.

Chapter Text

Alexei and Yelena joined Bucky for another therapy session, while John was busy in the training room perfecting his skills with the shield, and Antonia was...somewhere else. Peter hummed a cheerful tune as he hopped down the hallway, the sunlight streaming in through the windows, brightening his path. As he descended the stairs, he paused at the entrance of the library and peered inside.

Ava liked being in the dark. It wrapped around her like a comforting shroud, allowing her to be lost and alone. It suited her. Here, she could escape the bright laughter of children, the warmth of familial bonds—those blissful moments that ignited a bitter jealousy within her. They were happy and normal, surrounded by love, while she longed for shadows. She wished to dwell in darkness, where no one would dare enter, and where she could make them pay for their light.

She was like Baba Yaga, a figure of myth and fear, shunned by the very world she had once desired to be part of.

In the dim library, Ava's thoughts drifted to Peter, the boy who was both a super-soldier and a former assassin. He had waved at her once, his smile bright and genuine, a stark contrast to her own desolation. His voice rang sweet and warm in her memory, filled with giggles and squeals that had both enchanted and enraged her.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed, not since that tragic day when her parents were ripped from her life. Years spent training under SHIELD had transformed her into a weapon, robbing her of the innocence that once defined her. That innocence was dead and buried, forgotten in the recesses of her mind.

At least fear made her powerful. It earned her the respect she felt she deserved, even if it came at the cost of her humanity. 

Ava sensed she was being watched in the vast, dimly lit library. Her gaze fixed on the door, and she melted into the shadows as it creaked open, revealing a tiny child.

Peter entered, clutching his teddy bear, a gift from his father. He scanned the library, puzzled by the emptiness. “Hello? Whoo-hoo! Hello?” he called, his voice echoing softly in the silence. Strange. He could've sworn she was in here.

The library was enormous and still. As he ventured further, he caught sight of a window that let in no light at all. Suddenly, a loud thud startled him, followed by books tumbling from the shelves. He blinked at the chaos, then slowly walked over to the chair, setting his teddy down before attempting to restore the fallen books. Huffing, he climbed onto the chair, clutching his teddy once more as he reached up to return the books to their place.

As he turned around, he gasped at the sight of a figure dressed in white, her mask glowing with small red lights that resembled eyes.

Ava loomed before him, both haunting and mesmerizing. 

Startled, Peter teetered on the edge of the chair, nearly losing his balance. Instinctively, Ava shot forward, catching him just in time, her cold grip steadying him before he could fall. If she hadn't caught him in time, he would have hit his head. Panting, she gently placed him back on the chair, ensuring he was safe, but disappointment washed over her as she noticed the wonder in his eyes instead of fear.

What a strange little boy, she thought, intrigued by his innocence. She removed her mask, revealing her ethereal features.

“Ooh...do you haunt houses?” Peter asked, his smile wide and unafraid.

Ava narrowed her eyes, a chill emanating from her. “No. But if I were a true spirit, you should beware where you roam. You might find them haunting you instead,” she warned, her voice low and eerie.

Peter's eyes sparkled with delight. “I want to dress like you next Halloween!” he exclaimed, bouncing on the chair.

Ava blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“I want to be a ghost like you on Halloween! Can you come with me for trick-or-treating next year? We can eat candy together! We can make caramel apples and share all the Halloween treats!” He clapped his hands, his imagination racing with joy.

Ava stared at him, bewildered. What is with this child?

At that moment, her resolve began to crack, as the haunting aura surrounding her faltered in the face of Peter's innocent enthusiasm.

“We can haunt our own house! Oooh! We can be the ghost duo!” Peter exclaimed, bouncing happily on the floor as he held his teddy bear tightly. He began to make eerie ghost sounds, his tiny voice full of excitement. “Whoooo!” He waved his arms dramatically, moving slowly as he continued, “Whooo! I am Peter Ghost!”

He turned and walked over to Ava, who stood behind him like a statue, glaring but somehow hiding a small smile beneath her cold facade. “I will haunt you...forever!” he declared, lowering his arms and giggling, his hands covering his mouth as he clutched his teddy bear close.

Ava stood still, watching as Peter bounced around, making ghostly noises. Her gaze remained cold, empty, unchanging.

"You think you're a ghost?" she murmured, voice like ice. “You're not like me. You don’t make people afraid. You’re not…scary” 

Peter immediately froze mid-movement, eyes wide. “What?! I can be scary! Super scary! Boo!” He scrunched his face into his best attempt at something terrifying.

Ava raised a single, unimpressed brow. “Oh yes. Absolutely terrifying”

Peter giggled. “See? I am scary!” He bounced higher, his excitement growing.

"You’re too loud,” Ava said coolly. “Too loud to be a ghost”

Peter only giggled more. “Okay! Then I’ll be a loud ghost, and you can be the quiet one! We’ll be the best scary ghost team!” His little laugh turned into a mischievous cackle. “Ooooh, we can even scare Uncle Clint! Like when me and Mommy put a spider in his room! Be scary and cool like Uncle Bruce as Uncle Hulk!”

Ava stepped forward, her shadow stretching over him like a creeping fog. “I don’t understand you,” she said, her voice lower, colder. “You should be scared of me. At least when I tried to scare you…”

She stopped. The memory surfaced—Peter slipping, nearly cracking his head open on the floor. Because of her. If she hadn’t caught him in time…

The thought lingered like a phantom whisper, curling around her mind, unwelcome.

Her voice turned hollow. “You should be scared of me. Everyone else is. Even me”

Peter tilted his head. “Why?”

She leaned in, her presence darkening the space between them. “Because,” she whispered, “I can disappear. I make people fear me. Do you know Baba Yaga?”

Peter’s eyes grew wide.

Ava’s voice was a shadowed hush. “I am…Baba Yaga”

Then—she was gone.

Peter gasped, spinning toward the bookshelf where she had been. He placed his tiny hands against the wood, then broke into an excited grin with a giggling squeal.

“Ooooh! So cool! Can I do it too? Can I go with you? Ooooh! Can we scare Uncle Clint with Mommy when they get back?” He bounced on his heels, practically vibrating with excitement.

Ava reappeared. Peter let out a delighted squeal, hopping in place.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why aren’t you frightened?”

Instead of answering, Peter grabbed her hand.

Ava froze. His hand was small and warm. Soft.

Something in her chest twisted, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

“We can be ghost buddies!” Peter declared. “Like Casper! But you gotta practice smiling! Gramps Fury learned to smile—I taught him! And even how to do a squeaky voice!” He giggled at the memory.

Ava blinked. “...What?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Ghosts gotta look friendly so people don’t run away! Like Casper! See?” He grinned wide, dimples showing. “Like this! Try it!”

Ava stared, unimpressed.

She should’ve disappeared again. Should’ve melted into the shadows and escaped this absurd situation.

“I am not smiling,” she said flatly.

Peter gasped dramatically, crossing his arms. “Then how are you gonna get candy next Halloween?”

Ava frowned, crossing her arms. “And why, in this cruel world, of all things your family holds dear, would I waste my time on something so pointless?”

Peter blinked. “Because ghosts need candy too! And caramel apples! And fun! And—” He suddenly gasped. “Wait! Have you never been trick-or-treating?!”

Ava remained silent.

Peter’s gasp grew even louder. “You haven’t?!” He clutched his chest as if the mere thought physically pained him. “That’s so sad! We gotta fix that!”

He grabbed her hand again, tugging her forward as he talked a mile a minute. “Mommy and Daddy took me last year! Mommy and Auntie Yelena dressed up as princesses, and I was a prince, and Daddy was a king! Next time, you can come too!”

Ava let herself be pulled along, her mind a tangled mess.

Is this why she always watched them? Why she lingered in the shadows, watching Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei play with him? Why did she feel something sharp and unfamiliar twist inside her when John and Antonia bonded with the child?

Jealousy.

She wanted to be part of it.

And somehow, impossibly, Peter Parker was pulling her in.

Like a ghost emerging from the shadows, Ava slowly knelt before him. Her hair hung in dark curtains, nearly swallowing her face, her expression empty, hollow. When she finally spoke, her voice was a chilling whisper, the kind that seeped into bones.

“And you truly believe that ghosts…even those who are cruel and wicked spirits…like me…would waste their existence on something as foolish as hunting for candy? Frolicking in meaningless nonsense?”

Peter, unfazed, stared at her eerie, calm face—her stillness, the way she loomed over him like something waiting to strike. Then, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he broke into a wide, beaming smile.

“Uh-huh!” he chirped.

Ava’s icy façade cracked, just slightly. She blinked.

Peter’s excitement only grew. “We can be the best ghost team! We’ll make people shiver when we boo them! Shiver their timbers!” He rubbed his tiny hands together with mock villainy, cackling through his giggles. “We can even be ghost pirates!”

His bouncing turned wilder, his laughter filling the room. “And for Halloween, we can have Mommy, Daddy, my uncles and aunts, Grandpa, Grandmama, Gramps Fury, Johnny, and Antonia all dress up, and we can be like The Munsters!” His little chest puffed with excitement. “We can be a mighty monster family! Hehe!” Another fit of mock evil giggles. “We’ll scare everyone, make them beg for their lives, haunt them so good—and take all the candy! And eat it all! Uncle Bruce as Uncle Hulk…we can win lots and lots of candy!”

He giggled uncontrollably, bouncing harder, completely lost in the fun of it.

Ava just…stared.

What…was this damn child? He just seemed so...impossible!

Ava's expression faltered, caught between shock, and confusion, and—for the first time in a long time—surrender.

Her glare remained softened slightly as she listened to his giggles, which felt surprisingly soothing to her. For the first time in a long while, her heart warmed at the sight of the small boy.

“For such a little boy…you are a very bold young man. Like your parents. They’ve done well with you,” Ava said, her voice as cold as ever.

Peter only giggled, taking her hand in his tiny one, bouncing on his feet with excitement.

Ava remained still, listening to the sound of his laughter.

“Tonight, can you stay with me? In bed or just to play? They won’t know. It’ll be our secret,” Peter whispered, eyes wide with innocent hope.

Ava stared at him, her heart fluttering—an unfamiliar, unsettling sensation. Finally, she gave a small nod. “We’ll see”

Before she could react, Peter flung himself at her in a tight hug. The impact nearly knocked her off balance, a small grunt escaping her lips as his tiny arms wrapped around her. She stiffened, her hands hovering in the air.

Should she pull away? 

Should she disappear into the shadows? 

Should she…

She wanted to.

Slowly, she let her arms fold around him, her grip tightening. Peter only giggled, squeezing her even tighter.

And for the first time, she smiled—a real, wide smile.

She no longer felt like a ghost.

She felt alive.

Peter lay fast asleep in his bed, his tiny teddy bear nestled beside him. The room was quiet, still—until the wall above him began to shift.

Something moved.

A shadow stretched through the hard surface, pale, glowing hands clawing their way out. Long, eerily slow arms reached forward.

Peter stirred slightly, letting out a soft, sleepy yawn. His eyelids fluttered open, and instead of fear, a bright, drowsy smile spread across his face as he gazed at the approaching figure.

From the hallway, Bucky stirred. A faint sound had pulled him from his sleep—soft, muffled…giggling.

Peter.

He yanked the covers off and made his way toward the boy’s room. But just as he reached for the door, he froze. His breath hitched.

What he saw made him stop in his tracks.

“Bucky…what is it? Is it Peter?” Yelena whispered behind him.

Instead of answering, he held up a hand, silencing her. Behind her, Alexei, John, and Antonia peered into the room.

And then they saw it.

Peter was laughing, his tiny feet bouncing as he twirled in circles—with a ghost.

Ava!

She was smiling, a rare and haunting expression on her face, though she remained silent. Yet there was no menace in her presence, no chill of fear—only an eerie warmth as she moved fluidly with the child.

Peter giggled as she scooped him up effortlessly, spinning him in the air. His laughter filled the room, a melody against the quiet night.

John let out a low whistle. “Well…that’s something to remember.”

The rest of them could only stare, caught somewhere between shock and silent awe.

Chapter Text

Alexei sat on the couch, leaning forward, fists clenched as he smacked his palm with his other hand. The TV blared loudly as two wrestlers grappled in the ring.

“COME ON! COME ON! HIT HIM! USE THE CHAIR, YOU IDIOT!” Alexei bellowed, slamming his fist on the armrest. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! PIN HIM! PIN HIM NOW, YOU COWARD! DAMMIT!!!”

Peeking into the room, Peter climbed onto the back of the couch, blinking at the sight of his Russian Soviet grandpa practically yelling at the TV.

“COME ON, YOU FOOL! GRAB HIM, GRAB HIM! AHHH! GET HIM!” Alexei roared, fists clenched.

Peter tilted his head. “Uh, Grandaddy, I don’t think they can hear you”

Alexei gasped, whirling around, eyes wild as he stared at his adopted grandson. “Petrov! You startled me, boy! What are you trying to do—give me a stroke?”

Peter giggled but squealed when Alexei suddenly scooped him up and plopped him down beside him.

“You sneaky little spider—just like your mother!” Alexei huffed. “And for your information, маленький арахнид (little arachnid), they can hear me! Finally, look! Look at this nitwit! He’s wasting time! This is why he is losing!” He scoffed dramatically. “Pathetic! You see what I mean?”

Peter giggled again, staring up at him. “Maybe you should be a wrestler, Grandaddy. You’d totally win!”

Alexei grinned proudly. “Da! I am the Red Guardian! I have defeated many! And I would crush these weaklings!” He stood from the couch, flexing his muscles. “Red Guardian versus all of them—I would conquer them all!”

Peter giggled and stood on the couch, lifting his arms like a champion despite having no visible muscles. “I would beat them too! I’d be Peter the Champion!”

Alexei smirked. “Now that is something to see”

“I would beat many! I would beat them all!” Peter declared, bouncing on his feet.

“Hmph, true. But I think you need some training first,” Alexei teased, crossing his arms.

Peter pouted playfully. “I wanna be a wrestler!”

Alexei let out a deep, mocking laugh and patted Peter’s head. “Sorry, little peanut, but… you are too small. Maybe in a few years, with training, you will be ready.”

Peter huffed, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I can be a wrestler! I’m not small!”

Alexei smirked. “Hmm…wait a few more years, Petrov.”

Peter giggled before grinning mischievously. “Are you scared I’ll beat you?”

Alexei gasped mockingly, his eyes narrowing as he stalked toward the little boy. Peter cackled as Alexei knelt in front of him, their foreheads nearly touching.

“What’s that supposed to mean, little peanut? Are you saying you wanna go? Right here, right now?” Alexei challenged with a smirk.

Peter giggled and threw his arms around Alexei’s neck. “Wrestle you!”

“Alright, тигр (tiger), let's wrestle,” Alexei rumbled playfully before scooping up the giggling four-year-old. With an exaggerated growl, he tackled Peter to the floor, the boy shrieking with laughter.

“Do you surrender now? Huh? Do you give up?” Alexei teased, gently pinning him down.

“Nooo! Peter da champ always wins!” Peter declared, squirming before placing his tiny hands on Alexei’s scruffy cheeks, trying to push him away.

Alexei gasped dramatically. “Uh-oh! Oh no! He’s too strong! I can’t fight his power!” He groaned and flopped onto his back as if utterly defeated.

Peter let out a tiny roar and pounced on top of him. “Peter The Champion got Red Guard’n! I win!” he squealed, bouncing on Alexei’s chest.

Alexei flailed his arms. “Ahh! He’s too powerful! I can’t get him off!”

Peter cackled, victorious, while Alexei lay sprawled out, groaning dramatically.

After a beat, Alexei cracked one eye open and smirked. “Hmm...or maybe—”

With a sudden growl, he grabbed Peter and flipped him over, tickling his sides.

“AHHH! NO FAIR! NO FAIR!” Peter screeched between fits of giggles, writhing as Alexei laughed.

“The champ must train harder, little peanut!” Alexei declared, still tickling.

Peter could only squeal in laughter, kicking his legs. “Noooo! No trainin’! Only winnin’!”

Peter kicked his tiny legs, shrieking with laughter as Alexei playfully mouthed at his neck. The big Russian suddenly gasped and grabbed his arms, making dramatic gagging sounds.

“Agh…gah…oh no! Petrov the Champion…he’s got me again! Whoa!” Alexei flailed exaggeratedly, as if Peter were spinning him like a tornado, before crashing onto his back with a loud grunt.

Peter, cackling, wasted no time. He scrambled on top of Alexei’s broad back, bouncing triumphantly. “Oof! Oh no, I’m being pinned again!” Alexei groaned, his voice muffled against the floor.

The noise carried through the apartment, drawing the attention of the others.

Bucky walked in first, stopping dead in his tracks. Yelena followed, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. John, Antonia, and Ava came next, all staring at the ridiculous scene before them.

Peter sat proudly on Alexei’s back, his little chest puffed out like a victorious warrior, while the so-called Red Guardian lay defeated beneath him. Meanwhile, the TV blared in the background, still blasting the sounds of an actual wrestling match.

John raised an eyebrow. “Uh…what the hell is going on here?”

Bucky smirked. “Looks like Peter just wiped the floor with Russia’s finest”

Yelena snorted. “I always knew he was stronger than you”

Antonia tilted her head. “Should we…help him?”

Ava just blinked. “No. Let’s just see how long he stays down.”

Alexei groaned dramatically from the floor. “You are all just jealous! Look at this boy—he is like me! Strong! Powerful! Unstoppable!”

Peter beamed and flexed his tiny arms. “Yeah! I da champ!”

John crossed his arms. “Right, because a four-year-old just took you down in ten seconds flat.”

Alexei huffed. “I was…going easy on him”

Before he could say more, Peter suddenly pounced again, making Alexei yelp as he face-planted into the floor with a loud “Oof!”

Yelena grinned. “Sure, big guy. Keep telling yourself that”

Alexei groaned into the floor. “I hate you all”

Peter just giggled, still sitting triumphantly on his back.

As Alexei lay defeated on the floor, Bucky stepped forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, folks! It's time to declare our winner!” He began counting dramatically. “One...two...”

Peter bounced in excitement, while Alexei groaned and pretended to struggle against Peter’s hold.

“Three!” Bucky yelled, swooping down to lift Peter into the air.

“The Champion!” he announced, raising Peter high above his head like a trophy.

Peter giggled, his little fists pumping in the air. “I’m the champion! I’m the champion!”

Yelena laughed, while the others couldn’t help but smile, their lips curving into grins. Even Alexei, still sprawled on the floor, managed to beam up at them.

“Alright, I admit defeat!” he chuckled. “But I’ll train harder!”

Peter giggled as he triumphantly perched on Bucky's shoulders.

Chapter Text

Peter hummed happily as he colored, his tiny fingers gripping a crayon as he focused on his masterpiece. The soft sound of footsteps made his little ears perk up, and he lifted his head with a bright smile just as his aunt stepped into the room. Yelena smirked, hands tucked behind her back, hiding something.

“Hello, Petrov,” she greeted smoothly.

Peter beamed, waving his hand eagerly. “Hi, Auntie Yelena!”

She knelt beside him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You always tell me and your mother that you want to be a spy, yes?”

Peter gasped and bounced in place, nodding so fast his curls wobbled. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!”

Yelena's smirk deepened. “Then...how would you like to help me on a super-secret mission? One that will prove you're the best spy we have around here?”

Peter let out an excited squeal, practically vibrating. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” He shot up from his seat, his little feet tapping excitedly against the floor.

Yelena chuckled and finally revealed what she had been hiding—a small walkie-talkie. She handed it to him while keeping one for herself.

“Alright, паучок (little spider)”, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, using his Russian nickname, “time to go on a mission”

Peter gasped dramatically, clutching the walkie-talkie to his chest. “A real mission?”

“The realest mission,” Yelena confirmed with a smirk.

Without hesitation, Peter grabbed her hand with his tiny fingers, his eyes shining with excitement. Together, they crept toward the main room of the tower, sticking close to the walls like true spies, peeking around corners with exaggerated caution.

The mission had begun.

“Alright, Petrov,” Yelena whispered, crouching beside him as she pointed toward the glass cabinet in the kitchen. “That cookie jar is our target. Inside, the legendary cookie awaits. Your mission: sneak in, retrieve the cookie, and return undetected. If you succeed, mission accomplished” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Think you can handle it?”

Peter gasped dramatically, clutching his walkie-talkie like it held the secrets of the universe. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” he whispered excitedly, bouncing on his toes.

Yelena smirked, ruffling his curls. “Alright, Petrov. Good luck, little peanut. Stay stealthy”

Peter nodded seriously, then spun on his heels, dropping into a crouch like a true secret agent. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself onto his knees and began his expert-level crawl toward the stairs, humming an exaggerated “dun-dun-dun” spy theme under his breath.

Yelena had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she watched him dramatically belly-crawl down each step, his tiny hands gripping the floor like he was sneaking through enemy territory.

Reaching the bottom, Peter peeked around the room, scanning for threats. “All clear,” he whispered to himself, then popped up on his feet and tiptoed toward the couch, ducking behind it like a master of disguise. He peeked over the top—no movement.

Then, his walkie-talkie crackled.

“Little Widow, do you read me? White Widow calling. Over” 

Peter's eyes widened as he quickly grabbed the walkie, pressing the button with his chubby fingers. “Little Widow here,” he whispered, grinning. “Mission almost complete. Approaching the cookie zone”

“Copy that,” Yelena's voice came through, laced with amusement. “Stay undetected, маленький паук”

“Okay!” Peter giggled, tucking the walkie into his pocket.

He dropped to his belly again, inching forward with determined stealth, making tiny grunts and huffs as he wiggled across the floor. The kitchen was just ahead. The cookie jar was in sight.

The mission was on.

Peter giggled as he finally reached the kitchen, staying low to the ground as he crawled and tiptoed. Yelena watched from her spot, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

She had never made sounds like this as a child, nor had Natasha. The Red Room had stolen that from them—any chance of being carefree, of simply being a child. But somehow, her tiny nephew had given it back to her, just as his mother had when she was born.

Peter’s little voice snapped her back to reality.

“Stealth. Stealth. Stealth,” he whispered to himself, his eyes locked onto the prize—the cookie jar. More importantly, the big cookie that belonged to Uncle Tony. With a determined look, he pulled out his communicator.

“Auntie Yelena, do you read me? Over?”

Yelena smirked, pressing her talkie. “White Widow here, Little Widow.”

“The cookies are here. No sign of shiny alarm lights. Mission to take the cookies is at hand,” Peter reported in his most serious spy voice.

“I read you. Proceed, little spider.”

Peter giggled, shoving the walkie into his pocket. With exaggerated care, he slowly opened the cabinet door, his little fingers wrapping around the jar. His mission was almost complete—

But stealth? Stealth was overrated.

With a squeal of triumph, Peter snatched the jar and bolted, his giggles filling the air as he sprinted for the exit.

Yelena burst out laughing as she watched him race up the stairs, gripping the cookie jar like his life depended on it. The sound of little feet pounding against the floor filled the hall until—

“Ah-ha!” Yelena caught him mid-run, swooping him up into her arms. Peter giggled wildly, still clutching the stolen goods.

“Did I do good?” he asked, his big brown eyes shining with excitement.

She smirked and ruffled his messy curls. “You, Little Widow, are indeed a spy.”

Giggling, Peter pulled off the lid and held up a cookie for her. “For you!”

Yelena's heart melted a little as she took it. “Спасибо, паучок.” (Thank you, little spider)

Holding her tiny partner-in-crime, she carried him back to his room. They plopped onto his bed, munching happily on their chocolatey loot.

The cookie jar sat empty on the nightstand. The big cookie was gone.

Mission accomplished.

“Peter?” Bucky's voice called out.

Yelena and Peter froze, exchanging wide-eyed looks before bursting into giggles.

“Where are the cookies?”

Their laughter only grew louder.

Chapter Text

He loves them all. But...couldn't say those three words to the three of them.

Bucky loves Steve. He loves Natasha. He loves Sam. He loves his little tiger, Peter most. He loves each and every one of them, and he loves seeing them together, seeing them happy. Seeing them all smiling, especially Steve with Natasha, together since before Steve even asked her to marry him—and that was a good, no, a great thing, that she said yes. And then the wedding, and the part when she got pregnant—that was the most shocking, the most scary. But also so exciting, after it all.

Seeing Natasha with Steve brought memories of how Steve had been with Peggy. And that made him love Natasha and Sam even more—but he knew he couldn’t let anything happen, couldn’t let any thought of trying to cross his mind.

Best to not say anything. Steve and Natasha are married now, and Sam is his own person.

What he loved most was seeing Steve happy, really happy, now that he had Natasha—and now having a son to complete it all, after all the years he had lived through, and all he himself had endured.

He had wished, many times, that he could have someone like that to love him, someone to give him a family. Someone like a little tiger, like this little Rogers.

At least he was trying to be a good godfather. At first, he thought—and most hoped—that Steve wouldn’t want him near Peter after his birth. After all, don’t forget: he had been a former Hydra assassin, brainwashed and a killing machine, wiping out anyone to help Hydra seize power.

At first, he hadn’t wanted Peter near him, afraid that side might return, that the Hydra part might rise and attack. He couldn’t let that happen. He had killed so much. He was still haunted by it all. He feared it too much, hated it too much. But he wanted to be human, to try to be human, to interact like a human—as Steve managed to do in this modern time, different from the timeline they had come from.

He missed that time. But it all faded under the wrath of Hydra, under the torment erased by their machinery.

Still, Peter—and his…annoying, exhausting, impossible-to-escape energy—was something that made him have to attend therapy sessions, adjust, learn, and find more of himself.

Peter cackled as he dashed through the rooms of the tower and into the living room, with him panting and chuckling at the same time.

Bucky then blocked his path, and Peter only squealed a giggle. Bucky, panting, said, “You think even when it is time for your bath and nap...you can run...”

Peter squealed a giggle and tried to run to the other side of the couch, but he squealed, giggling more, when Bucky dashed to the other side across from him with a smirk. He tried again, but Bucky blocked him, and Peter only bounced a bit and cackled. 

Bucky made a hint of a growling sound, then a playful roar, and suddenly, like a lion pouncing on its prey, he jumped over the couch, hitting the cushions and landing on the floor. 

Peter dashed quickly, sprinting up the stairs, giggling loudly in cackles.

He chuckled as he sat up on the cushions, turning to Peter, who started making funny faces before dashing off again.

Bucky chuckled and stood with a vengeful smile. “...but you can't hide. And you better hope I can't find you, pipsqueak. You wish your old man and mom were here to save you,” he said, walking down the hall. He found Peter’s room and thought he could have sworn he heard a slight giggle coming from inside.

“Oh, Peter,” he said. “Petrov, where are you?” he said evilly with a smirk as he stood at the door. He entered slowly, closing the door behind him. “If you want to try to escape...you are going to have to go through me, pipsqueak”

He stopped when he heard a giggle. He smirked at the sound, then leaned against the door and tapped his finger against his lips. “Hmm...where did that come from?” He turned to the closet and smirked, walking to it slowly and stopping. “Are you in there, Petrov?”

He heard a giggle again and turned his eyes from the closet, then back to the door. 

Slowly, he reached the doorknob and jiggled it, and suddenly—

“Ha!” He burst it open, but there was nobody inside—only a closet of toys, costumes, and clothes. He calmed his posture and stared suspiciously. “Hmmm...that’s strange. He is not hiding in the closet...it’s always been his best hiding spot”

He heard the giggle again and, smirking, turned to the curtains and the chest, walking to the chest. He gently grabbed the handle. “I hope you are not in there, because if you are...you’re in for a tickle moment!” He lifted the lid—only winter clothing. He gasped dramatically, then walked to the drapes and played with them. “Oh boy!” he exclaimed dramatically, hiding a smirk at a set of giggles, yet continuing to look shocked and puzzled. “He’s not in the closet, or the chest, or behind the drapes. So where could he possibly be?”

He heard another set of giggles, louder now, and smirked, walking to the door slowly, flesh and metal hands behind his back, glancing at the bed. Sheets and the blanket were both neat and flat, but the giggles continued. 

He smirked wider, walking to the door. “Well...I guess he’s not really in here.” He opened the door slowly and walked out. “Maybe I need to look somewhere else—unless it’s haunted.

He heard the giggles and closed the door.

Peter giggled, trying to keep from giving away his hiding spot, his tiny hands clenching over his lips, but it was so much fun.

He then heard the door open slowly, listening to more of Uncle Bucky saying to leave, and then the door closed.

Did he fool him? Did he trick him?

Peter giggled more, slowly crawling and peeking his head out from under the bed, seeing the room empty. He giggled again, crawling further under the bed, and then suddenly just a few feet from under the bed—

“Gotcha!”

Peter squeaked as he was hoisted into the air, lifted by strong arms that spun him in wide, dizzying circles. The room filled with the loud, musical burst of his blissful cackles as he kicked his tiny feet in pure delight. He cackled harder as Bucky held him up. 

Bucky grinned, eyes narrowing mischievously. “So…” he smirked, voice dropping into a mock-evil tone, “...you thought you could fool me? You thought you could outwit me, huh? Just like you do with Uncles Tony, Sam, and Clint? Hm? Especially your, even though he is to easy to trick”

Peter shrieked in laughter as Bucky spun him again, growling dramatically before burying his face into Peter’s neck, blowing loud mock-roars that set the toddler exploding into giggles.

“You can fool them,” Bucky said, stopping the spinning and pulling Peter close against his chest. “And you can definitely fool your old man…but you can’t fool me, Petrov.” He gave another deep roar for good measure. “And when you do…you pay the price for fooling me”

He tossed Peter gently onto the bed. Peter tried to scramble away, but Bucky caught him easily, pinning him playfully. He lifted Peter’s shirt and blew raspberries across his tiny stomach, making the boy shriek.

“Uncle…Bucky…!”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he listened to the nonstop stream of Peter’s helpless giggles. He kept tickling, savoring each squeal, each wriggle.

Peter howled, “Uncle…Bucky! Hahaha! Uncle Bucky!”

Bucky gave him a pointed glare, smirking. “Yes?”

“No more! No more!” Peter giggled desperately.

“You sorry for tricking me?” Bucky asked.

Peter nodded, breathless. “Sorry…Uncle Bucky…no more tricking you,” he sighed between laughs.

Bucky leaned down slowly, forehead pressing against Peter’s, his voice low and mock-threatening. “You sure? You’re not trying to trick me again, are you?”

Peter shook his head fast. “Promise! No tricking you, Uncle Bucky”

“You’re not trying to trick me again, are you?” he repeated teasingly.

Peter shook his head harder, giggling. Bucky smirked. “That’s what I thought. I got my eyes on you, pipsqueak. Don’t make me suspect you.”

He poked Peter’s stomach once more, earning another giggle.

Bucky pushed himself up, letting the boy roll free. Peter slid off the bed, still laughing, and Bucky chuckled. “Now what are you up to, halfpint?”

Peter scurried to the closet and dragged out a box of wooden blocks. Sitting on the floor, he patted the spot beside him. “Play blocks with me!”

Bucky smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you do it, kid—or whose energy you inherited. Your mom’s or your old man’s.”

Peter giggled, chest puffed out. “Don't know energy! Fun and play!”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He lowered himself onto the floor beside him. “You remind me of your old man when we were young. So trust me, I already know what I’m in for.”

Peter clapped excitedly as Bucky opened the box and spilled out the blocks. The toddler began stacking them immediately, humming to himself—soft, bright, content.

Bucky watched him, smiling…until his gaze drifted to the window. He caught the faint reflection of himself and Peter. And something in his chest pulled.

The memory started slowly.

A recovering memory—one of the real ones. Not the manufactured Hydra lies.

A memory rising from the fog.

A memory he thought he’d lost forever.

What year was it?

How old were they?

Eight? Ten?

He couldn’t remember the year. Damn.

But the memory kept coming—closer, clearer, refusing to fade this time.

He hated when they were only hints.

Fragments.

Pieces without context.

But this one…this one was holding steady.

He stared harder, his eyes locked on the glass as the haze inside his mind thinned—

—until he saw it.

A floor.

Two boys sitting together. They were both smiling and laughing and so free, so peaceful, and…whole.

One boy was small, bright-eyed, with hair of pale gold.

The other…dark brown hair, eyes soft, grin wide.

He studied them with a painful longing.

Is that…me?

Is that Steve?

Of course it was.

Bucky watched their tiny forms stacking blocks together, giggling without a single weight in the world. No wars. No Hydra. No metal arm. No missions. Nothing broken. Nothing stolen.

Just them. Just only them. 

Just Bucky and Steve.

Just kids who were supposed to grow old side by side.

Till the end. End of the line. 

The memory sharpened—little Steve suddenly tackling little Bucky, both collapsing into laughter that once filled a Brooklyn room. No fear. No shadows. Just two boys who believed they would never, ever be separated.

Never apart.

Never meant to be apart.

Not then. Not now.

Not ever—

—not even when the world tried to end their line.

He jolted, snapping back into the modern present—so sharply different from the fogged memory he had been trapped in—when he felt something small and a little heavy settled on his lap, followed by a gentle patting at his cheek.

He stared down, seeing Peter looking up at him. “Uncle Bucky...what's wrong? You okay?”

Bucky blinked slowly, his breathing steadying. A quiet smile touched his lips, soft and distant as he murmured, “I’m fine, Petrov. I...I... just remembered someone I used to play with a long time ago.”

Peter asked, “Really, who? Was it me?”

He smiled, stroking the boy’s hair as the memory blossomed in his mind. He stared down at Peter, seeing a faint echo of Steve in his face and eyes. “Almost you, buddy. It was someone else though, from a long time ago,” he murmured. “He was the best friend I ever had, and we would have fun and play, and we would promise to always be together, bucko”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “And we were together for a long time...until we were separated from each other. For a long time. But we finally found each other again, and now we have a new life, and we have a little rascal like you. Especially you—only you—and you are way more of a handful than he ever was, and way more than I thought.”

Peter giggled.

Bucky continued stroking his brown curls, and Peter scooted closer, looking up with worry. “Do you like me?”

Bucky’s smile widened, warmth softening every line in his face. “Of course, silly. I like you, buddy. I more than like you. I love you, Petrov. We all do. And I’m glad that I...survived everything that happened to me. Because if I didn’t...your dad never would have found me, and I never would’ve met you”

Peter giggled again, then crawled to the nearest block, handing it to him. “Play with me”

He chuckled and ruffled Peter’s hair, drawing out another giggle from the little boy, then began helping him build the block castle. The room settled into a peaceful hush, filled only with the soft sounds of stacking blocks.

And then—he felt it.

That memory.

That boy.

No—him and him.

Him and Steve.

Playing together. Stacking blocks together. Smiling just like this. Two Brooklyn boys before life took them into war, into Hydra, into everything that came after.

He remembered the year.

He remembered the streets.

He remembered Brooklyn.

That memory.

That Brooklyn memory.

He only smiled wider as he kept helping his new little playmate stack the blocks, listening to Peter’s gentle hums filling the quiet room.

Chapter Text

Peter was having his naptime, sleeping peacefully in his bed. Bucky leaned against the doorway, a small smirk playing at his lips as he watched the boy. Slowly, he closed the door behind him, leaving Peter to his dreams, and walked down the hall to find the others lounging on the couch, eyes glued to the TV.

He cleared his throat, smirking. “Hey guys. I’ve been thinking about something since it’s our last week with Petrov”

They all turned toward him.

“It’s been two weeks already?” Ava asked suddenly, her tone sharp, eyes widening.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah,” he said, noticing the flicker of surprise in her usually icy expression.

Yelena smirked knowingly. “What’s the matter, Ghost? Feeling sentimental?”

Ava’s gaze shifted, turning toward the shadowed corners of the kitchen and the other rooms. She wished she could melt into the darkness right now, escaping their teasing smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said icily. But inside, she felt it—the small, stubborn warmth Peter had ignited. He had drawn out a softness she thought she’d lost with her father, her childhood, her life. She tried to hide it, but it was clear: Peter had brought a part of her back to life.

Bucky stifled a chuckle, watching her struggle.

John Walker let out a dramatic groan, pressing back against the couch. “Bummer,” he said, grinning reluctantly. “This A-Team luxury life has been...nice. And having the kid around? Surprisingly fun. Guess I was wrong”

“Wrong about what?” Alexei asked, crunching on a bag of chips, Yelena perched next to him.

“About him,” John replied. “He’s not just Rogers and Sam’s kid...maybe even Barnes…he’s okay”

“Looks like you’ve gone soft,” Yelena teased, and John rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his soda.

Antonia, her attention fixed on the TV, hid a pang of emotion she couldn’t name. She finally glanced at Bucky. “And? What exactly are you implying with this…revelation?”

Bucky strolled to the couch, smirking. “Well…tomorrow, I thought maybe we could take him somewhere fun. Somewhere he’ll actually enjoy.” He paused, crossing his arms in front of the couch, eyes glinting. “How about…Coney Island?”

The group stared at him. Only Yelena and Alexei smirked. Antonia’s voice was gravelly. “You want to take him…to an amusement park?”

Bucky nodded, still smirking. “Yes” He then pulled a hand of tickets from his pocket. “And we are all going together”

Antonia crossed her arms, tone firm. “I do not typically enjoy frivolous activities like that”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky said, waving the tickets. “It’ll be fun, Antonia. And besides, it’s our last week babysitting Peter, so I figured we could make it special”

Yelena’s grin spread. “Let’s go.”

Alexei perked up. “Should we make it a surprise for him?” He grinned, and Bucky only smirked wider.

John scoffed, standing and wandering to the kitchen for a beer he’d bought himself. He returned, popped the tab, and drained half of it before plopping back on the couch. “Well, you guys go ahead. I’ll enjoy the tower in peace—Avenger luxury all to myself, quiet and serene. Perfect for me while the little race car is finally asleep”

The group glared at him, and he yelped when someone snatched the can from his hands, spilling beer down his chest. “What was that for, soldier?” he barked.

Bucky placed the can on the table, arms crossed, tone stern. “Because we are taking Peter to Coney Island. And all of you are going”

A few nodded, already on board. The rest just glared, refusing to move but clearly caught in the mix of mischief and inevitability.

Antonia jolted, her tone turning deadpan as she pressed herself back into the couch, as if trying to anchor her body to it. “I am not going out and indulging with others. I am staying here while you take him out. At least keep an eye on him,” she stoned.

Alexei, Yelena, and Bucky all glared at her, and Alexei mocked dramatically with feigned confusion. “Oh really, Taskmaster one?” the Soviet asked. “Oh gee, we had no idea”

She stared at him, unimpressed, and Bucky spoke again. “We are all taking Peter to Coney Island, and we are all going together. It is that simple,” he said sternly.

Ava burned her steeled eyes at him. “I am not going out.”

“We are going,” Bucky replied.

“I am not going out and being with you people,” John scoffed.

Yelena blurted, “You are with us. You have been with us since we started the team. Duh!”

“I know,” John muttered, “but at least I am not with those upper-class Avengers. Especially Mr. Capt. Rogers”

Bucky suddenly glared at the U.S. Agent.

“You are all being wimps,” Yelena said.

Alexei replied, “You all are acting like a group of three little whiny babies over taking a kid to the theme park. Over going to a theme park. And you are all used to acting like jerkasses more than me, Yelena, and Natasha. And even Barnes boy”

They stared at the Soviet soldier, and the Hydra assassin and the spy only turned away from them.

Bucky marched right up to them, crossing his arms and standing tall—very much the ex–Winter Soldier and very much the leader.

“I am not going”, Antonia hissed.

Ava stonily agreed. “I am not going nowhere”

John only leaned back and let out a lazy sigh. “Not interested”

Bucky glared down at them as he spoke, firm and unmovable. “You three listen to me, you jerkass babies”

John, Ava, and Antonia all glared back at him. Alexei snickered behind Bucky, and Yelena smirked like she was already enjoying the show.

“We are taking Petrov to the theme park tomorrow. All of us. Together. Because we’re the Avengers, and we’re taking my nephew out for an actual fun day instead of hero nonsense—and that’s that”

John leaned forward, smirking with that mocking fake-fear of his. “Ohhhh, look at that, metal soldier’s laying down the law. Oh, look, I’m shaking. Oh, no! I am so scared! Whatever shall I do?” He even trembled dramatically.

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I mean it, you guys”

Antonia suddenly snapped. “Or if we continue to refuse to follow this?”

Bucky smirked, the cocky kind that promised devastation. “Then you give me no choice but to tell Steve, Nat, and the others when they get back—and maybe even Fury—that you three were absolutely no help watching Peter. Meanwhile Yelena and Alexei actually helped me. And when I tell them you three can’t handle babysitting? You might lose your Peter privileges. Take Clint, for example. Barbecue sauce all over his hands, tried to pick up Peter for bath time. We had to teach that man what a napkin is. Natasha did amazing with that little intervention”

They stared—silent.

Suddenly a second beat as a heart later, Ava blinked out of existence from the couch and reappeared behind him, eyes sharp and cold as knives.

“You wouldn’t” she growled.

Got her. Definitely got her.

Bucky smirked. “What’s the matter, Ghost? Finally hit that soft little spot you’ve got for my nephew? The same kid who hides under a sheet pretending to be you?”

Ava glared with death-level intensity before muttering a curse under her breath. “Fine. I will go to the park”

Bucky grinned.

One down, two to go.

Antonia stood next, marching right up to him. Her entire demeanor shifted—silent, deadly, intimidating. “Very well. I will go to the theme park. But only if you keep Peter close to you at all times. If anything tries to take him or harm him, they will answer to me” Her voice dropped to a slow, chilling tone, like the spirit of Grim Reaper.

Bucky grinned while John, Yelena and Alexei stared wide-eyed. Alexei swallowed hard.

“Fair enough then,” Bucky said.

John, still sprawled on the couch, staring at her. “Do you ever lighten up? Especially when Captain Jr. is smiling and wanting to P.L.A.Y…with you?”

Antonia turned her burned, piercing gaze toward him for him to immediately look away.

Two down, and one to go.

All eyes turned to Walker. He walked to the fridge, grabbed another beer, popped it open, and took a long swig.

“I’m only doing it because I want the Tower back. The luxury, the peace, the quiet. So if babysitting the little weener gets me back inside? Fine. That’s my reason. That’s that”

They all stared.

Bucky grinned. “Liar”

John glared. “Bastard”

******

Peter bounced as he giggled, not sure where he was going or where they were taking him, but he was so excited just from the smirks on Uncle Bucky’s and Auntie Yelena’s faces — and Gramps’s too. Every time he asked them and the others where they were going, they only stayed silent while Gramps, Uncle Bucky, and Auntie Yelena answered with things like, “It’s a surprise.” “We don't know.” “You will know once we get there”

That just made him even more excited. He stared out the window, pressed close to Ava and Antonia, while the rest of them simply watched his little body practically vibrating with energy.

But then — the view changed. The open sea came into sight, wide blue clouds above it, the skyscrapers of New York fading behind them. Peter’s eyes widened as he spotted the twisting shapes of roller coasters, crowds of people, and the distant screams of laughter and thrill. His excitement exploded like a rocket.

Bucky chuckled as he unbuckled his car seat and hoisted him out. Peter giggled harder, bouncing the moment his feet hit the ground. Bucky smiled. Yelena grinned proudly, her adopted father chuckling as he thought of Melina, and wished she and Natasha were there for this moment.

John, Ava, and Antonia stood off to the side, staring at the boy. Ava felt her lips lift for the first time that day — a small hint of something warm cracking through her usual emptiness.

John asked, crossing his arms, “You are having such of a racing motor, kid”

Peter only giggled and bounced toward him.

“Coney Island! Coney Island! Coney Island! Coney Island!”

He hopped from one Thunderbolt to the next, his pure joy filling all of them, and none of them could look away.

Antonia finally spoke, her gaze blank and deadpanned, unused to being outside the tower’s hard, safe walls. “Are we wish to go in this park and for you to have this word of fun, or are we just going to stand here and watch you bouncing and hopping galore?”

Peter giggled, hopped right to her, grabbed her hands and she froze, feeling a strange tug inside her chest, something pulling her away from the comfort of the tower’s walls.

“Coney! Island! Coney! Island!”

He tugged her hand, making her grunt, his little fingers warm against her cold scarred ones. Yelena smiled as Peter grabbed hers next, yelling for Ava and the men to follow. And just like that, the Thunderbolts headed into the park together.

Inside, they were immediately surrounded by crowds of people, bystanders, workers, roller coasters twisting overhead, slides, playhouses, bright colors everywhere.

Peter’s heart practically leaped as he giggled nonstop.

John muttered under his breath, “I don’t know why the hell I let you talk me into doing this crap. There is so much I could be doing right now”

He passed a woman who gave him a long look. He straightened, trying not to smirk too hard.

Bucky raised a brow at him while he and Yelena held Peter’s hands on either side. “Oh? Like what besides you drinking beer and watching TV?”

Alexei jumped in, “Maybe trying to learn how to get a female to fall for your charms”

John snapped his head toward him. “It can happen.”

Yelena scoffed. “Ha!”

“Shut up,” John growled, while Yelena, Alexei, and Bucky all grinned.

Antonia trailed close behind Peter, staying near him even as she kept her distance from the others. She never imagined being outside, fully herself and unhidden, would feel so strange — or so calm. No one running. No one attacking. No Hydra. No Red Room. She somehow starting to...like this.

Was this what Natasha herself always did? With Captain America? With Peter? Even Yelena — so collected, so human.

Ava watched everyone silently, unsure what to do with the warmth growing in her chest. She glanced at parents with children, couples walking hand in hand. Then she looked at Peter — and the thought surprised even her.

Bucky stopped everyone and kneeled in front of Peter, smiling. “Which ride do you want to ride, buddy?”

Peter stared at the rides around him, eyes wide and sparkling, heels hopping softly as he hummed cheerfully. He took in each and every one of them, scanning the whirling colors and lights, then finally his little finger shot out and he chirped, pointing. “That one!”

They all turned to see the ride he had chosen: the baby carousel with circling horses. Bucky smiled, standing tall, and John was the first to speak, staring at Peter’s pick. “That one?”

Yelena’s lips curved into a grin. “Let’s go”

Ava, Antonia, and John stared. Ava stepped forward first, voice cold. “I am not riding in that”

Only Peter stared at the ride, oblivious to the refusal, and Yelena asked, amused,
“Why not?”

“I am not riding in such a thing,” Antonia said, deadpan, her former-lethal-soldier aura making the childish ride seem beneath her.

Bucky crossed his arms, eyes narrowing, smirking. “Guys. Remember what I said”

John, Antonia, and Ava glared at him, but their eyes couldn’t stay off Peter, who was hopping with pure excitement. Yelena and Alexei smirked, taking Peter’s tiny hands in theirs. He giggled, tugging them forward, the rest trailing behind.

John scoffed under his breath. “You’re going to regret me being in this group”

“Oh, believe me,” Bucky said, grinning. “I know. Oh look, Walker,” he mock-shivered, trembling in fake fear as comeback. “I’m shaking! Oh no, whatever shall we do? Oh no!”

John’s glare could have frozen ice as they walked to the ride and entered the line. Peter bounced in place, giggling, excitement practically vibrating off him.

Finally, it was time. Bucky and the others helped Peter onto the first horse. He giggled, kicking his little legs as the other park visitors took their seats around him.

Turning toward the adults, he asked eagerly, “Ride with me! Ride with me!”

Bucky and the others smirked. John looked as unimpressed as ever, and of course, Antonia and Ava tried to keep their faces icy. Alexei ruffled Peter’s hair, chuckling. “We are going to stay behind, Малыш” (little guy)

Peter’s eyes widened. “Am I going to ride by myself?”

“Mmm—hmm,” Yelena said playfully, pinching his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Petrov. We’ll be right there where we can see you”

Peter giggled, nodding as Yelena tapped his nose. The ride started, and the wires and controls began humming to life. Peter squealed softly as it moved, the wind ruffling his hair. Soon, he was giggling loudly, legs kicking, spinning and turning with the carousel. Between his joyful noises and the cheers from other riders, Peter began to make neighing sounds, fully in character.

“Yee-haw! Giddy up! Giddy up, horsey! Giddy up! Ride ’em, cowboy! Whee! I am Thor of Asgard! I am a Valkyrie! For Asgard! For Asgard! Yee-haw! Whee!”

Outside the ride, the group could hear him above the hubbub of the park. Their lips curved, some wide with smiles, some trying to maintain composure, slowly melting at his joy.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!” Peter called.

Bucky chuckled, smirking. “Hiya, Petrov buddy!”

Peter spun away, giggling, then spun back. “Hiya, Auntie Yelena and Gramps!”

Alexei and Yelena chuckled, grins wide. “Приветик, Тигрёнок,” she greeted warmly. (Hi, tiger)

Alexei smirked. “Приветик, Товарищ.” (Hi, fellow)

Peter spun away again, then came back. “Hi, Ava!”

Ava struggled to keep her straight face, but a small, rare smile tugged at her lips. “Hi, Peter”

He spun once more, then back. “Hi, Tonia!”

Antonia felt a pang of warmth at the sound of her chosen nickname, holding back her emotions but smiling slightly.

Peter spun again, returning. “Hi, Johnnie!”

“Yo, squirt,” John replied, smirking as he looked away, pretending not to care.

Peter continued giggling, spinning and waving at them until the ride ended. When he hopped off, the group greeted him immediately.

Alexei smirked at his grandson. “How was the ride?”

Peter’s eyes sparkled with uncontained excitement. “Fun!”

Bucky smiled as he and the others watched Peter pick the next ride. The little boy bounced excitedly, tugging Bucky’s metal hand with all the strength his tiny body had. “That one! That one!” he cheered, pointing at the Tea Party Cups.

They followed him into the line, watching him hop with pure joy. He spun to face them, still bouncing. “I want you all to ride with me!”

Some of them smiled. Of course, three did not.

“Peter…” Antonia said flatly. “I don’t do such things as rides”

Peter only giggled. He slipped his hand into hers and looked up at her with those big, warm brown eyes — shining under the sun, soft, trusting, too adorable to fight. “Ride with me? Pleaaaase?” he begged sweetly. “I would ride with you. And for you”

The team froze, staring at the impossible sight: Peter Rogers weaponizing cuteness. Even Antonia — silent, deadly Antonia — visibly faltered. Those eyes could break a Hydra conditioning sequence.

Her icy expression cracked. Her heart practically thawed in her chest.

“Very…well…Peter…” she muttered, defeated. “I will ride with you”

Peter’s eyes lit up dry and bright again, and he cheered, “Yippee!” before hugging her tightly.

Antonia’s frozen heart melted another inch. A ghost of a smile formed — slow, reluctant, real. She patted his head gently, feeling his soft brown curls. Peter giggled and bounced again.

Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei just stared. Antonia…smiling? Because of Peter? It was like watching a winter storm turn into sunshine.

John groaned dramatically. “Do I have to ride with you, squirt?” He moaned like a child who’d been told to eat vegetables — clearly terrified of those big sparkly eyes.

Peter giggled again and grabbed his hand and Ava’s too. Even Ava knew the rules: resistance was futile when Peter Rogers aimed cuteness your way. Even the Ghost couldn’t escape.

Bucky smirked. Seeing all of them nothing but assassins, soldiers, former enemies — undone by a toddler was almost better than being on a mission.

Once they reached the ride, Peter slid into a seat beside Yelena and Antonia. Ava sat stiffly across from them. John, Bucky, and Alexei were all stuck together in a single teacup, doing nothing but glaring and scoffing at each other.

“Roll over,” Alexei grumbled, shoving Bucky and John to the side.

“You roll over,” Bucky shot back.

“Ha! Are you kidding?” John scoffed. “I don’t want you jackasses or especially you, Barnes — anywhere near me. Talking me into this crap…”

Across from them, the women sat with Peter — who waved at the grumpy trio with a bright little smile.

Yelena grinned wickedly. “You three look really cute together!”

Peter laughed as Bucky glared at Yelena grinning, just as Alexei and John mocked her with overdramatic giggles. Their teasing got worse when Yelena pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the three men squished together.

Then she turned the camera toward herself, Peter, Ava, and Antonia. Peter beamed the second she leaned close.

“Cheese!” Yelena sang.

Peter giggled as the camera captured the perfect moment.

Ava and Antonia only glared at her in silent horror.

The ride began to spin.

******

The ride then slows and the cups stop as the music fades.

Those of the riders hop off on the journey to the next ride and to enjoy their time. Peter is the first to hop off perfectly, giggling as usual, bright-eyed.

Bucky staggers out next, looking relieved, his legs a bit wobbly and his steps dizzy, yet he keeps his stance.

“Oh boy,” he moaned. “Now I know how Clint felt when he tried it. Sam wasn’t kidding about that time.”

Peter giggled, and as for the team themselves...

Yelena staggers out gripping the railing like a soldier surviving the battlefield — which she was — holding on as if letting go would have flung her right out of the universe. “Who was designed for that crap?”

Antonia steps out stiffly, jaw clenched, absolutely refusing to show she is indeed — and correctly — dizzy, even though she’s walking in a straight line that is most definitely not straight.

Ava phases through the exit gate by accident and bumps into Yelena. “Oops...please excuse me. Didn’t mean that”

“Sure. No...prob,” Yelena muttered.

John makes it out feeling his legs like they are going to melt. “Whoa! I feel so...whoozy”

Alexei laughs like it was nothing, but when he slams his hand against Bucky, Bucky grunts and leans slightly against him, and Alexei laughs harder. “Whoo! World is still spinning in circles”

Peter giggled and cheered. “Again! Again!”

All at once: “No”

Peter giggled, and before they could try to stop him, he was — as if untouched by the spinning ride — already back at the entrance. And the adults, like little children, groaned.

******

In some ways, they felt a strange kind of gratitude for this—something that had never happened to them before. Back when they were “human,” or what counted as human, they had never experienced this. They were still what they were, yet trying, secretly, to be something more.

Going to a theme park.

Riding the rides a kid picked—Peter, the kid they were babysitting by Bucky’s damn idea.

Bribing the Avengers to trust them with Peter. And now, just being here, hearing his giggles and squeals of delight, watching him light up as he pulled them from ride to ride—the seaside swing, the Soarin’ Eagle, the circus coaster, and more.

Passing through the crowds of people, Peter bouncing and jumping with excitement, exploring, discovering, and always dragging them along, full of boundless energy.

Eventually, they found themselves in a photo booth, making faces and smiles, laughing as Peter posed beside them, utterly adorable.

They snacked on treats from sticks, sampled candy, won small prizes, and wandered through the park, enjoying every little corner. And then, they made it to the beach.

They settled into the sand with a bag Bucky had carried from the car, and watched as Peter, now in his swim shorts, splashed and swam with the other beachgoers. His giggles rang out over the waves, bright and contagious, as he darted through the surf, fearless and joyful.

Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei felt something they hadn’t in years—just enjoying being human. Experiencing a normal day, a normal summer, being with Peter and letting themselves relax. They’d ridden rides, eaten, taken photos, won prizes… and for a few hours, the world of missions, fighting, and secrets didn’t exist. They wondered if they could do this again someday, maybe with Natasha and Steve. Maybe they could carve out more moments like this—just being people, just being a family.

The rest of the day drifted by in sun and laughter. Peter finally tired himself out, playing in the sand and splashing at the water’s edge. As they walked past the crowd toward the parking lot, Peter now fast asleep, wrapped in the towel of his makeshift family, Alexei carried him with ease. Their own energy was drained—walking, riding the nauseating and high-flying rides, keeping up with a kid whose boundless energy could wipe out an army—but their hearts were full.

Even as the sun dipped low over Coney Island, leaving streaks of orange over the water, one thing was clear: this little human, with his endless giggles and bright eyes, had changed something in them.

But they don't show it. Only to him. Just him and that what makes them just that word they wished of being again: human.

******

Peter was now in his dreams, in his soft bed, sleeping and gathering strength from the fun time he had with his uncle and his band-team of friends. Watching the scene of the darkened room and seeing the kid sleeping, they let Bucky close the door before they all entered the living room and each one sat on the couch.

The TV turned on, its flashing light casting shadows around the slightly dimmed room. 

They all stared at the television until Bucky’s eyes shifted from the screen to his team. 

He smirked, leaning closer. “So...” he began. “...what did you guys think?”

Yelena and Alexei didn’t speak as they turned to the three he was really asking.

John, Ava, and Antonia stared ahead, the TV glow flickering across their faces. Ava spoke first, eyes blankly fixed on the screen.

“It was...different”

“Different how?” Yelena asked.

“Just different,” she said simply, leaning back. “And it felt...very...well, good”

Antonia replied with her eyes locked forward, distant as always. “It was what that word Peter calls it to me and the rest of you?” she questioned. “...what is that word?”

“Fun?” Bucky guessed.

“Yes. That word”

John mumbled under his breath. “I still hate that I don't have his shield, and you and Sam thought I ain't good enough like him... just like him, for me to lose it”

Bucky didn’t speak, so John did. “But...?”

“But I guess being with the Capt Jr is not so bad”

Alexei chuckled. “Don't be a малыш, хлюпик.” (baby, wimpy) He slammed a hand on John’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off the couch. John grunted.

“Ow,” he replied calmly, while the Soviet soldier laughed and Yelena grinned beside him.

“It was fun being with Petrov,” she said.

“It was,” Ava agreed. “It really was.”

Bucky gave a triumphant smirk. “Told you guys you would like him. And he would like you.”

They didn’t reply at first—only John spoke.

“I can’t believe I let him ride on my back after he had a shower, all the way to his bedroom,” he said, rubbing his spine.

Alexei laughed. “Don't worry. We had worse.”

“True,” Bucky said, glancing at his metal limb.

“Very true,” Yelena said, leaning back against Alexei’s arm draped behind her neck.

“Shit yeah,” John agreed with a tilt of his head.

Ava shrugged. “That is true.”

“Correct,” Antonia said.

Yes. They had. 

Chapter Text

The time had come for them to arrive. They were finally coming back from their long mission—after weeks away—leaving their little kid in the care of the Thunderbolts.

The time had come, and as the last days of those weeks ended, they were returning.

And half of the Thunderbolts were excited for them to come back…but the other half? Somehow, in some way…they wished the Avengers were gone just a little longer, so they could have their kid to themselves for a few more days. And after all—they were the Avengers.

Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

The most powerful, the most memorable heroes alive. The whole world respected them, idolized them, worshiped them like legends carved out of battlefields and light. They were the warriors people whispered about. That one word defined them completely:

Mighty.

More mighty than the unstoppable X-Men.

More fantastic than the Fantastic Four.

More legendary than the mysterious Daredevil and Elektra.

More feared by criminals than the Punisher himself.

There were dozens of heroes orbiting the Earth and beyond it, but the Avengers…they were the ones remembered. The ones celebrated. The ones everyone pointed to and said, those are the real heroes.

And that fact alone made a few of the Thunderbolts want to disappear somewhere far away and prove they could be better—more memorable, more heroic, more than just villains with broken pasts and blood on their hands. 

Sure, they all made mistakes, even terrible ones...but still…

The Avengers were the popular ones. And they had a kid. And now that kid was no longer going to be theirs, because his family was coming back, and they had to stand there and face their former enemies.

John wasn’t just dealing with Bucky as a teammate. He had to face Sam too. The two men who took the shield from him. The two who decided he wasn’t good enough to hold Captain America’s legacy. And now the real Captain America would step off that damn jet holding the shield John lost. It twisted something deep inside him just thinking about it. But he hoped—more than he’d ever admit—that when Peter was old enough, he wouldn’t repeat John’s mistakes. Maybe the kid would be better. Maybe he could earn the name “Captain America” the right way.

Antonia was about to face Black Widow. And although she had learned to accept Yelena…and at least tolerate Alexei...it didn’t make this any easier. They were Peter’s adopted family, and she had learned to accept them as she learned to accept the boy. But still…her muscles were tight, her body tense, her instincts ready to unsheathe every blade she had. She forced herself to stay calm.

Ava wished she was anywhere else—anywhere but standing in front of the so-called perfect heroes. Part of her wanted to grab Peter and disappear with him somewhere quiet where no one could touch him. She didn’t trust them. Not after Pym. And certainly not after SHIELD. Not after everything she had lived through. Her powers buzzed inside her like an electrical storm, and she fought to steady herself. She didn’t trust these heroes with Peter…but they were his family. And for him, she would make an exception.

They were perfect in the public’s eyes. Honored like gods—when one of them literally was a god. Their shiny armor, their bright costumes, their weapons that could level armies or fly through the skies. And all their powerful allies—Doctor Strange, Scarlet Witch, She-Hulk, and more—only added to how unstoppable they looked.

And it made the Thunderbolts feel something sharp in their chests just thinking about it over and over again. 

But Peter…Peter was still theirs. Even if he was the Avengers’ kid...he was also the Thunderbolts’ kid. And they were going to keep it that way.

If he belonged to the Avengers…or any other hero…he still belonged to them too.

He was their Peter. And that to them…is final. 

“They are coming! They are coming! My mommy and daddy are coming! They are coming! Me so happy! My Avengers are coming!” he chirped.

Some of them held small grins, while others only stared at the glass doors ahead. They’d already heard the kid shouting those same words from the moment he woke up.

Peter bounced on his feet as he stared at the empty landing pad, his tiny hands clapping rapidly. He giggled with a wide, glowing smile while Bucky stood beside him, grinning down at the bouncing kid.

Yelena’s lips curved into a small grin, her eyes fixed on the pad, waiting to finally embrace her adopted older sister. Alexei stood close beside her, his gaze locked on the same spot the others were focused on.

The rest of the Thunderbolts just stared at the landing pad, wishing—honestly—that they were anywhere else but here. Forced to stand and face the damn, so-called mighty heroes of Earth. But they kept their eyes on the giggling little boy, his small body trembling with joy and excitement. And as much as they wished they were somewhere else…they guessed they could try. For him.

Peter giggled again as the rumbling in the air grew louder. Bucky smiled at the kid’s squeals, Yelena and Alexei smirked, while John, Antonia, and Ava only glared at the sight of the city and the landing pad.

They really wished the Avengers weren’t coming back.

Not yet. Not now. And they definitely wished they could’ve had the kid just a little longer—without the better heroes around.

And then something flew through the sky. Not a bird. And certainly not a plane.

Peter cackled louder and suddenly tried to bolt forward, but Bucky caught him with a chuckle, pulling him up into his arms.

“Hold it, kiddo”

“Uncle Tony! Uncle Thor! Uncle Sam! Aunt Carol!” he yelled.

The flying heroes landed one after another. A heartbeat later, the Quinjet swept in and began lowering onto the pad, and Peter’s excited squeals hit an entirely new level.

John grumbled under his breath and took a long drink from his beer can. Antonia glared. Ava glared harder. All three stared daggers at the arriving heroes.

Here goes nothing. Just keep your cool.

The Quinjet’s ramp lowered slowly. Peter giggled wildly, wriggling in Bucky’s grip until the man finally smirked and released him. The little boy took off at top speed on tiny legs, with Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei following behind him. Ava, Antonia, and John stayed back, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the first Avengers stepping out.

Tony removed his faceplate and exhaled, taking in the fresh New York air—finally home. Sam leaned against the Quinjet, wings dragging on the ground, his arms limp with exhaustion.

Thor breathed deeply, a soft smile tugging at him as he looked up at the tower. Being away so long felt like being gone from Asgard itself.

Carol braced her hands on her knees, panting before letting out a hard, victorious exhale. 

One by one, the rest of the Avengers stepped out—wounded, filthy, bruised, drained. Their once-regal, triumphant, mighty forms now battered from battle.

And yet—

“My Avengers are home!”

All of them looked up and smiled as the little boy came charging toward them.

They were deeply exhausted—bodies aching, muscles screaming, minds fried. All they wanted was to collapse into a bed for five straight weeks. But the moment they saw Peter running at them, laughing, yelling their names...every ounce of pain vanished.

“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Sam! Uncle Tony! Uncle Clint! Uncle T’Challa! Uncle Thor! Uncle Bruce! Aunt Carol!” Peter shouted. “My Avengers!”

Steve dropped his shield instantly, the weight of the mission, the fight, the fear, all draining away. 

Natasha, bruised and battered like the rest of her team, saw her son and felt something inside her finally click back into place.

They walked toward him—slow, unsteady—but with arms open wide. When they reached him, both Steve and Natasha dropped to their knees, arms spread.

Peter collided into them with a happy squeal.

Steve laughed tiredly, deeply, content at last to be holding his son. Natasha covered her son’s chubby cheek with rapid kisses, smiling—truly smiling—as the sound of his chirpy giggles filled her ears.

Natasha and Steve hugged their giggling son even tighter, hearing those sweet, breathy giggles they had missed for days. Feeling his tiny body pressed against theirs and their own exhausted bodies pressed against him was the only thing either of them wanted in that moment. They didn’t want to let go. Not yet. Not for a second.

Natasha kissed her son’s cheek and face again and again as he kept giggling. 

Steve pressed a soft kiss to his son’s forehead, stroking his soothing, silky brown hair. Having both his wife and son in his arms again felt like the strongest medicine he could ever receive.

They pulled back, only for Peter to latch onto them again with a squeaky laugh. They chuckled and eased back once more, taking in the boy’s shining hazel eyes, his bright smile, and the wave of pure, warm energy that healed every ache in their bones.

“Hello there, champ,” Steve smiled tiredly but fully content, and Peter giggled happily.

Natasha kissed his forehead, then nuzzled her nose against Peter’s. He giggled louder as he held both his mother and father close. “Здравствуй, мой маленький Петров. Мы наконец-то дома,” she whispered, exhaling a long, victorious breath. (Hello, my little Petrov. We are finally home.)

Peter giggled and hugged them tight. “Hi, mommy and daddy! You finally home!” he chirped, his smile huge.

Their tired eyes shined as they stared at him, and they gently pulled their son — and each other into another warm embrace. Peter giggled and squeezed them both with all his tiny strength.

“Say, when is our turn?”

Steve and Natasha looked up, seeing the others waiting with soft grins and amused smirks. 

Peter giggled, pulled back from his parents, and immediately flung himself toward the next set of arms.

One by one and almost all at once — Carol and the men opened their arms with tired smiles, finally getting to hold their little nephew again.

“Oh, we missed you so much,” Carol cooed as Peter squealed and hugged her tight.

T’Challa, his mask forgotten on the ground, smiled and patted Peter’s back. He pulled back just enough to stroke Peter’s hair, his warm eyes shining. “Missed you so much indeed,” he said quietly.

Peter giggled and clutched him tight.

“Did you miss us, kiddo?” Clint teased — and he let out a grunt when Peter slammed into him with surprising force. Clint laughed and held him tight.

“I missed you! I missed you! I missed you!” Peter chirped. “Love you my Avengers!”

“Oh, it is so good to be finally home and finally see you again, little buddy,” Sam said with a wide smile, ignoring the throbbing aches in his battered body.

Peter giggled and hugged him tight.

Thor with his hammer resting on the ground, his armor dented and dusty, his strength drained to mortal levels — let every ache fade as he opened his arms. He had fought Frost Giants, monsters, even his own brother, but no victory compared to this moment.

“Greetings, my little warrior. We are finally home at last, and back to you, my little one.”

Peter giggled and nuzzled his face into Thor’s neck.

“Me and Hulk missed you, little buddy. I missed you so much,” Bruce said, shirtless, filthy, bruised — but smiling at his tiny godson pressed against him. Even the Hulk inside him felt calm, soothed.

Peter giggled and looked up at him. “I love you Uncle Bruce! Love Hulk! Peter’s Hulk love you!”

Bruce chuckled and kissed his forehead. Nothing felt better than being home.

Tony stepped forward last, smiling tiredly. He pressed a deep kiss into Peter’s brown hair and smirked. “Hope you were being good and not being a bad little boy. I haven’t forgotten the time when you and Pepper tricked Rhodey and you ate my favorite last cookie, and for that I still think I should have my revenge on you and my wife, mister cookie–eating pants.”

Peter burst into squealing giggles, smacking into Tony’s red-and-gold armor. “Tasty cookie!”

Tony shot him a playful glare. Peter cackled harder and hugged him tight.

As Peter wrapped his arms around each of his uncles and aunt, Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei stood a short distance behind — waiting patiently, lips lifted into small grins.

Deep inside, their hearts pinched with envy. Watching the shiny, legendary heroes embrace the child they had come to love so fiercely made them tense like predators.

But they couldn’t ignore Peter’s bright chirping giggles…nor the warmth in his voice as he greeted every one of the mighty heroes who had returned home to him.

They just stared at the scene carefully. 

Peter clinging to all of them at once, tiny arms wrapped tight, his bright giggles echoing in the hangar. The Avengers stood there, holding him back just as tightly.

They didn’t look like Earth’s Mightiest Heroes in that moment.

They looked like something they hadn’t believed themselves to be in a long time.

Human.

Strange, really of how human they seemed when embracing a child. How human they felt with Peter near them. He talked to them, smiled at them, hugged them, wanted to play with them. Just him treating them like they are just that word...human. Somehow, that little boy had reminded them of the humanity they thought they’d lost.

Alexei and Yelena stood beside Bucky, watching the quiet joy on Peter’s face as he rode on Steve’s sore, exhausted shoulders while Steve was ignoring the ache just to make the boy laugh. Just finally embracing his son. 

Still smiling, the group walked forward. Natasha’s gaze locked with her little sister’s; Yelena dipped her head, grinning softly as Natasha stepped into her arms. Alexei wrapped both of them up in a crushing embrace.

“Welcome home, darling,” he murmured, kissing Natasha’s head, earning a smirk from her and a muffled wheeze from Yelena.

“We can’t breathe,” Yelena complained into his shirt, making Natasha chuckle.

Alexei grinned. “Deal with it, my Widows” He squeezed them tighter for them to just grin. 

Peter giggled above Steve, gently combing his fingers through his father’s blonde hair.

Bucky met Steve’s eyes with a lopsided grin. “Glad to be back?”

“Hell yeah,” Steve exhaled with a grin, finally feeling the weight of home settle into his shoulders.

“Ah! Super soldier!” Alexei bellowed, clapping Steve hard on the shoulder. Steve winced, Peter laughed, and Alexei smirked. “Welcome all home!”

“Thanks,” Steve muttered with a crooked grin.

“Home feels so damn good,” Clint groaned as he unstrapped his bow and quiver, letting them drop to the floor. He was moments away from staking claim on the nearest bed when the group froze.

Three figures glared at them from across the hangar.

John sneered a grin, raising his half-finished beer in a mocking toast. “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes…” he drawled before taking a long drink. “...welcome. Do the confetti, ladies”

Ava and Antonia stood at his sides, both shooting the Avengers a cold, unamused glare.

Bucky stepped forward casually. “Welcome back,” he muttered under his breath, then leaned close to Steve and gently lifted Peter from his shoulders.

“Petrov…how about you go and play and let us grown-ups talk. Uncle Bucky’s not letting anything happen in here,” he added with a small smile.

Peter hesitated, looking between them all. “You're not leaving again now, are you?”

Their expressions softened—smirks pushing through the exhaustion.

Steve and Natasha crouched down to him.

“We aren’t going anywhere yet, champ,” Steve said. “We’re right here. Just talking to Uncle Bucky’s team. Grown-up stuff”

Peter clutched their suits. “Promise?”

Natasha kissed his forehead, brushing her nose against his to make him giggle. “Promise, darling.”

Sam tilted his head with a grin. “We just got home, Peter. You ain’t trying to get rid of us, are you?”

Peter giggled and shook his head. “Uh-uh! Love you, my Avengers!”

John took another swig of his beer. “Kid’s lucky he’s got you,” he muttered. “Otherwise we’d be taking care of him. Maybe even better, since he already thinks you might leave again…”

The Avengers as Steve glared at his rival and turned back to his son and forced a smile for Peter. “Buddy, go to your room and play. We’ll be there in a minute”

Peter nodded and hugged his father one last time, but just before he dashed off, he paused. He stared at his gramps, his auntie, John, Antonia, and Ava. Smiling brightly, he turned to his family and asked, “Can they come again?”

They all stared at him. John only let out a low chuckle and sipped his beer. Ava and Antonia simply stared, unreadable. 

Bucky smirked softly, and Steve stroked Peter’s hair with a grin. “We’ll see, but let us talk with them”

Peter nodded. He wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and kissed his forehead, earning a warm chuckle. Then he hugged his mom, and Natasha smiled as his little lips pressed to her cheek. He stepped back, threw up a salute with the wrong hand, his face twisted into a stern expression that looked almost exactly like Fury’s.

They all stared as he boomed proudly, “Avenger Peter for duty!” He dropped the salute, giggled, and dashed down the hall toward his room.

The Avengers and the Thunderbolts stared after him, lips widening at the pure, electric life radiating from the boy.

Antonia slowly turned toward the former Red Room spy and the Captain. Her voice was slow, low, almost predatory. “He is so pure for none not to be trusted to have him” Her gaze sharpened directly at the Black Widow.

Natasha replied icily, “Thank you”

They glared at each other, and Clint felt eyes burning into him. He turned to see the White Widow glaring, so he waved with a smirk. “Hiya.”

She turned away instantly. 

Clint huffed a forced little chuckle.

John finished the last sip of his beer, set the can down hard on the table, and stood. He strode toward the Avengers, Yelena, and Alexei, with Antonia and Ava hovering close behind—still silent, still glaring.

He chirped mockingly, “Ah! Welcome, Cap and birdie boy! How was the trip?”

He aimed it straight at Steve and Sam, who glared back with eyes like burning coals—especially the one holding the shield.

Steve and John locked eyes. John tilted his head…and saw the fallen shield outside where he’d left it. His lip curled into a sneer.

Oh, how he wanted to take that shield again. Hold it. Claim it. Never let it go. Being Captain America. His title. His right. His power. And these two—especially the Winter Soldier had taken it from him.

His hands twitched. He could practically feel the shield calling to him, begging to be lifted, maybe even slammed into the man who dared to wear it.

Steve growled softly. “If you think it, you better think again and especially not here around my son”

John sneered. He needed another beer. Maybe three. Especially with Steve, Sam, and even Tony all glaring daggers at him.

“Better learn my place,” he muttered.

He looked at the Avengers…then at his adopted father-in-law and his sister-in-law, and Bucky. “So…how was Peter?”

Bucky stepped forward, resting his silver hand on John’s shoulder. He answered while staring at his three teammates, smirking even at himself. “He was great, punk. We had so much fun with him. And I promise you, Peter had a fun time with all of us.” He even glanced at Ava and Antonia.

Carol tilted her head, glaring at them. “Really?”

Bruce questioned. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah,” John snorted with a wave. “He was alright for a kid of you, soldier” Steve stared at him. John turned back with a smirk. “You and your wife did good making a kid like that. Not bad, I guess”

Steve forced a smirk, Natasha glaring beside him. “Thanks.”

John waved dismissively. “Whatever,” he mumbled.

Ava stared down the hall where Peter had disappeared, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to follow. She turned back with a low snarl. “Don’t ever lose him and don’t let anyone harm him.”

The Avengers glared back. Natasha nodded firmly. “Never. He is our son.”

Ava held her gaze…then forced a single stiff nod.

Antonia glared at her former enemy and added sharply, “He was really…interesting to be with. Entertaining. And he made us feel more than we were meant to be. Very talented little one.”

Sam raised a brow, hearing all this. He smirked. “You guys act like you all care about him.”

Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei all curled their lips. John barked, “So what’s it to you if we do?”

“That is none of your concern whether we do or don’t,” Antonia snapped.

Ava glared without a word…then turned her head away sharply.

The Avengers stared at the Thunderbolts. 

Bucky leaned toward Steve and Natasha, smirking. “Told you Peter would like them. Told you everything would be fine, punk”

Steve returned the smirk.

Then Peter came rushing back into the room, tiny hands clutching a folded paper. He sprinted toward them like he feared they might disappear if he didn’t hurry. Getting close to make it to his mommy, daddy, uncles, aunts, Auntie Yelena, and Gramps, he panted—

—then squealed as he tripped.

He pitched forward toward the hard floor. Steve and Natasha and the others quickly reacted instinctively—

—but before he hit the ground, Ava vanished into a shimmer of mist and reappeared, arms coiled around him.

The Avengers froze.

The Thunderbolts froze.

Did…did that just happened?

Peter giggled at his ghost friend. Ava steadied him, her voice stern but soft. “Careful, Peter.”

He giggled again, took her hand, and walked proudly toward everyone. He held up his paper like a sacred relic.

“My big mighty family! Love you all!”

He lifted the drawing high — and there they were in the picture and not one left out.

Silence followed.

They stared at the paper…then at the child who drew it. Hearts even the most broken, the most hardened, the most forgotten began to tremble. Humanity they thought they lost flickered back to life.

They didn’t deserve this feeling. This warmth. This belonging like they belonged to the world than those who created them and cursed them to be.

But Peter made them feel it anyway.

Peter was the Avengers’ kid. But to the Thunderbolts…he was theirs too.

And theirs alone.

Chapter Text

Since the day the Avengers tried to find someone to watch over Peter, and Bucky offered his new team as the so-called perfect babysitters, they didn’t trust the idea at first. 

Their little Peter with a group of former enemies felt just impossible and dangerous for a little boy to be with, and it only made their worry for him rise to an even higher level.

But at least Yelena and Alexei stood beside Bucky and volunteered, and the Avengers finally decided to give Bucky’s new team a chance. And from that day on, Peter looked as if he really did have a fun time with the former enemies who were now rogue heroes.

Peter told his mom and dad how much fun they were, every single one of them—especially the time they took him to Coney Island, which shocked Steve and Natasha completely.

Coney Island was the place they would take their little boy, along with places like Wakanda, all those moments meant for them to feel close to Peter. And yet, ever since that day, Peter kept asking for his Gramps, his Auntie Yelena, and the other Thunderbolts to come back—just like he would ask for Uncle Rhodey, Aunt Pepper, Uncle Scott and Aunt Hope, and even Aunt Wanda and Uncle Vision. 

So many people he looks up to, admires, and loves so much…all his heroes.

And after that day, months passed. During it all, his Avengers had to leave for another mission, another battle, and Peter stayed at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. That was the day he was chosen to stay for safety while Uncle Bucky’s team, and Uncle Bucky, Aunt Yelena, and Gramps looked like they were in an intense situation—locked in a fight against the CIA noblewoman from OXE, the woman attempting to create a hero of her own. 

Uncle Bucky and his new team had to stop it, and that was when this new person joined Uncle Bucky’s Thunderbolts.

What was he called again…Sentry?

Uncle Bucky has a new friend now, a new member of his Thunderbolts, and Peter already can’t wait to meet Uncle Bucky’s newest teammate.

Peter just hopes he will like him.

Peter hopped on his seat as he stared at the TV playing cartoons, Yelena sitting beside him. She decided to take the extra time to be with her nephew since her father, Bucky, and the others had left and of course Natasha and the rest of the Avengers were away on another mission.

Peter stared at the TV, then turned to her. “Do you think he will like me?”

She smirked, a true, warm grin at her nephew, and gently raked her fingers through his hair, making him giggle. “Oh yeah, he will like you, Petrov. I just know he will”

Peter giggled, clapping his hands as he hopped excitedly in his spot on the couch. Yelena only smirked at him as she leaned close and whispered, “And you know…he may be like Superman, maybe”

“Really?” Peter chirped in wonder.

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded. “He…kind of is like Superman. But he’s a good guy, and he’s like all of us—trying to be good people, like your mommy and daddy and your shiny gang.”

“But you are good people too. You, Gramps, Uncle Bucky, Ava, Antonia, and John,” he said. “I love you all. I love my mommy and daddy. I love my Avengers. I love my Thunderbolts and Avengers!”

He slammed his tiny body against her, knocking her flat onto the cushions. She squealed while Peter giggled, and she only grinned as she wrapped her arms around her adopted nephew.

She remembered moments like this—when she and Nat were little, being normal, having Melina and Alexei with them. And for a brief moment, she felt normal again. This feels just right.

The elevator dinged. She and Peter turned as the new and official team stepped out. Peter giggled and hopped toward them. Yelena sat up just as Alexei scooped Peter up by the underarms.

“Hello there, little soldier!” he boomed, lifting him high. “Whoo! You are getting big, boy!” Peter giggled as Alexei lowered him and rubbed his back, glancing at Yelena with a smirk. “You seem to be getting bigger and bigger, boy. You’re as heavy as your mother and aunt”

Peter giggled again. Yelena smirked as she approached. “Where is he?” She glanced around but didn’t see who she was looking for.

Bucky replied, “He ain’t sure if this was a good plan, but he wants to.”

Peter hopped excitedly toward him. “I want to meet him! I want to be his friend!”

They all stared at the boy. John smirked. “Why must you have such energy with no end?”

Peter cackled with giggles.

Ava suddenly stared toward the window, her voice calm and sharp. “He is here now”

Peter turned.

And there—in the sky. 

It wasn’t a bird.

It wasn’t a plane. 

It wasn’t Uncle Sam, Uncle Thor, Uncle Tony, or Aunt Carol.

It was someone else.

Someone flying with a cape not made of red and a suit glowing as bright as the sun.

Peter gasped at the sight and chirped, waving his tiny arms around. “Superman!”

The Thunderbolts smirked at him. 

Yelena, smirking herself, walked outside while the others remained inside, watching as he slowly lowered to the landing pad. His deep blue cloak flapped dramatically behind him, his shiny hair catching the wind, but his face held a shadow of doubt.

She smirked again. “Hiya”

He nodded. “Hello.” Then he hesitated, glancing at the Avengers Tower and slowly peering back inside. His expression faltered, and he stepped back—but Yelena approached him.

“What's the matter?” she asked.

“I...I...” Bob replied, voice low and uncertain. “I don’t think this is going to work. I’ve never... I’ve never been around children before, and...I don’t think I can do this.”

Yelena stepped closer, giving him a firm, encouraging look. “You faced the Void and the One-Eyed General,” she said, smirking, taking his hand gently in hers. “You can handle a kid.”

He gulped, imagining himself around a child—the child of the Avengers no less. 

The weight of his past, the fear of hurting anyone again, froze him in place. He pulled back slightly, and Yelena frowned.

“Bob, you can do it. He’ll like you. He likes us, and he’ll like you too. You’ve been getting help, you’ve been doing well, and you’re proving yourself. Come on, meet my nephew. He’s already excited to meet you”

“I...I don’t...I just don’t want to hurt him,” he admitted softly, stepping back further, head bowed low. The guilt and fear of not being heroic yet still being powerful weighed heavily on him, especially after everything with Valentina.

Yelena approached him again, and he flinched when she delivered a sudden punch to his shoulder. “Ow! What was that for?”

“It’s a habit I have,” she said, lowering her fist, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Well…can you do it gently?” he asked hesitantly.

“First, no,” she replied. “And second, we didn’t stop you, the Void, or Valentina for nothing. We didn’t become who we are for nothing. Bucky and I even talked with my sister, her husband, and the rest of them, especially the General to let you meet my nephew. This isn’t for nothing, Bob. He wants to meet you”

She paused and added, softly but firmly, “And...he just called you Superman” 

Bob froze. The kid called him Superman? That was…unusual. Rare, even.

Before he could say anything—or retreat a high-pitched, excited voice rang out again.

“Superman!”

Peter chirped as he dashed toward them, and Bob froze, gulping, his eyes locked on the young boy wearing blue pants and an Avengers shirt, his smile wide and eyes sparkling with excitement. 

Bob just stared, taking in the child, while his new teammates lingered behind Peter, observing.

Peter chirped again as he stopped and waved energetically at the yellow-clad hero. “Hi! I'm Peter!”

Bob’s gaze remained fixed on the boy, unsure what to do or where to look, feeling the weight of the moment as he silently took him in. Yelena and Bucky stepped forward, and she decided to call out introductions.

“Petrov, this is Bob,” she said. “He is called Sentry. Bob, this is my nephew, Petrov. Peter.”

Peter’s eyes widened at the gleaming golden-yellow suit and the deep blue cape, his face lighting up with awe. He stepped closer to Bob, who froze, uncertain, feeling the small, fearless presence of the boy.

Finally, Bob found his voice. “Uhh...hello,” he said, smiling awkwardly and giving a timid wave of his hand.

Peter giggled and dashed forward, gasping as his small arms wrapped tightly around Bob’s waist. He froze completely, stunned by the unexpected hug.

Peter giggled again, holding him with innocent joy.

Bob just stared, overwhelmed. How was this possible? A child—someone so small and fragile—was hugging him and looking at him like he was just another human being. All his life had been the Void, the darkness, the endless isolation—but now, here was Peter, touching him, smiling at him, treating him as if he belonged. 

What was he supposed to do in this situation?

“Uhh, hello there…Peter, is it?” he asked softly, still frozen in disbelief.

Peter beamed, holding him tight. “I like you!”

Bob grunted, feeling the boy cling tightly to him. He glanced at his new team, all standing calmly with knowing grins, and muttered, “Can one of you kindly remove this kid from my trousers? I think he’s starting to suffocate me here”

Bucky stepped forward gently, lifting the giggling Peter. “Alright, Peter, you don’t have to suffocate him,” he said with a soft chuckle.

Peter giggled again, bouncing lightly in Bucky’s arms.

Bob’s gaze never left the boy. Despite the awkwardness, despite the small panic in his chest, he felt a strange warmth. He didn’t want the hug to end. He didn’t want the child’s hands to leave him. He wanted this—he wanted another hug, another moment, to feel this strange, human connection.

Peter then asked, “I like you! You are better than Superman! You look so cool!” he beamed, clapping his hands as he hopped.

Bob stared at him, hearing his words that were filled with wonder, seeing the child staring at him and saying such things, and he just froze, speechless. He glanced at the others, who smirked, while Yelena shrugged her shoulders. Bob looked back down at Peter and shyly managed a small smile. “Uh...thank you, Peter. I am trying to be like Superman. And I want to be like Superman,” he said truthfully, with a desperate longing to be a true hero. To be like the Avengers, to be better. And now, as someone trying to be a hero, he wanted to prove it—for once.

He stepped forward and took Peter’s hand gently. “You are a hero! I like you! Come and play with me, Bobby!”

Bob lifted a brow and, in front of his new team, he grinned. “Bobby?”

Peter giggled. “Can you fly? Like my uncles and Aunt Carol?”

He nodded. “Yep. I can fly… and see all the world. And I wish I could see all the things I did just being so small… and not keeping up with you… and finding me,” he said, his first real, genuine smirk breaking across his face. He spoke it all loud and clear.

Peter chirped. “Don’t worry. Be happy! I’ll be your hero! I’ll be your hero! I will make you happy!” he said.

Bob felt himself melting inside. The weight of memories, regrets… they seemed to vanish completely. “R...Really…?”

Peter nodded rapidly.

Bob let out a soft, relieved chuckle and held the tiny hand gently but firmly. “Thank you, Peter.”

Peter giggled.

Bob exclaimed, “Whoa!” as he was suddenly pulled by the giggling kid, cackling as he was guided inside.

******

Inside Peter’s room, they were instantly swallowed by a sea of toys. Within seconds the Thunderbolts who are former rogues, ex-villains, broken weapons were sitting cross-legged on the floor, letting the tiny whirlwind named Peter drag them into his world. Eventually they drifted back into the main living area, cartoons blazing across the screen. Somehow the Thunderbolts found themselves playing with Peter’s toys, pretending to be the Avengers battling their enemies.

It was strange…surreal even.

These were people who once tore the world apart. People who ran, hid, were hunted, were corrupted — one of them by the Void itself. Every one of them had spent their life convinced they didn’t belong anywhere. The Avengers were the bright ones, the clean ones, the heroes on the posters.

But they had this little guy.

This hyper, unstoppable, impossible-to-escape kid who somehow made them feel… whole. Perfect, even. Like the pasts that haunted all of them had finally loosened their grip. Like the darkness they carried had faded, just a little.

Peter didn’t judge them. He simply looked at them — really looked at them — like he saw straight through their scars. And all he did was smile at them, hug them, tug their hands, and tell them to play. And somehow, that was enough to make everything quiet down inside.

After hours of playing and flying through the air with Bob, Peter finally fell asleep in his bed, curled up and dreaming. The team drifted into the main room, settling into the couch and taking in the Tower of the mightiest badass heroes. Even Bob sat there, his eyes wandering around the place, wishing deep down he could have something like this. Something that felt like home. But having this guys...guess that's okay. 

He eased back into the cushions, Bucky and Yelena nearby. Yelena had her head resting on Bucky’s lap, close to dozing off as he absently stroked her platinum hair. Her legs were draped over Alexei’s lap; he was blinking slowly, nearly asleep himself. Antonia and Ava sat side by side, Ava’s head gradually falling onto Antonia’s shoulder. Antonia didn’t react at all but simply shifted, moving a little closer. John leaned his head back against the couch, exhaling deeply as they all stared at the glowing television. In the other room, a child slept peacefully, lost in soft dreams.

“This…feels…nice,” Bob murmured, sinking deeper into the couch. “This feels nice”

Yelena blinked awake just enough to look at him. The others glanced over as well. Bucky smirked. “So...what do you think of our Peter?”

Bob turned to him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “He made me feel…good”

They already knew that.

Peter might belong to the Avengers but he was their Thunderbolt.

After all…he made them feel human.

And that does feel good.