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Chapter Text

Tony stared at the boy clutching Steve's leg and said, "No."

"Tony..."

"Nope. Nu-uh. Not happening."

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Steve said.

"We've been a team for almost a year now. I have a pretty good idea," Tony retorted. He pointed to the woman standing a distance away from the kid. "The social workers are already here. They can take care of him."

"Not this one," Clint said, uncharacteristically serious.

Tony looked between him and Steve and the boy, who couldn't have been more than seven. "Why?"

Steve knelt next to the boy and whispered something in his ear. The boy stared at his encouraging smile for a minute, before darting off to the wall of the Stark Tower lobby.

And up the wall and to the ceiling, until he was curled up in the corner.

"Well, that's...okay," Tony said, looking up at the boy. "So he's a mutant. I still don't see why you brought him here."

"I agreed to let them...handle this one," the social worker, Amy, said. She was wringing her hands, eyeing the boy. "We're just not...equipped to deal with his...needs."

Tony slowly turned to her. "Right. It's not like you don't already deal with thousands of mutant kids on a regular basis."

"Well, I'm sure several of our children have the mutant gene," Amy said. "This one's just a bit...obvious."

"And that's a problem because...?"

"Tony," Steve said gently, "how many villains have we had to fight because everyone turned their backs on them? Because most people simply can't handle their abilities?"

Tony turned back to Amy. "You can't tell me that there is no foster family out there who can take this."

"There might be," Clint said, "out of the gazillions that've signed up. How many shitty ones do you think the kid'll have to go through before he finds one willing enough to not only handle his powers but also undo all of the psychological shit that's happened to him from losing his parents this shit show..." He stuck a thumb out the window, at the smoldering buildings and limp alien bodies (the Chitauri had tried to come back). "...and all the crappy foster homes who couldn't deal with him because of his powers."

"It can't be hard," Tony dismissed, looking up at the boy. "Me, I think it's kinda cool..."

"So do I," Clint agreed. "But that's because you fly around in a suit that's powered by a hole in your chest, I grew up the circus, Steve's a super-soldier, Nat's a super-assassin, Bruce has his anger issues and Thor's Thor."

"We're not looking to adopt him," Steve cut in. "We don't even know his name; he hasn't said a peep. But we can take care of him until Amy finds a suitable--and loving," he emphasized, looking at Amy, "family who wants him."

"That could take months!" Tony protested. "That's like actually raising a kid!"

"You don't have to do anything. I'll take care of him."

Tony blinked, but he really shouldn't have been surprised. This was Captain America, people.

"So you want him to get comfortable around the Tower with people who actually give a shit about him before kicking him out?" Tony asked. "Yeah, I can't see any lasting damage coming from that."

"Better than the alternative," Clint promised.

Tony looked up at the kid, then at Amy, then his teammates. He shook his head. "Fine. Whatever. Just keep him away from my booze."

Chapter Text

Strangely enough--or maybe not--Natasha was the one to get the kid's name.

They were in the Tower, resting after the battle. Bruce had gone to bed after his de-Hulking, giving the boy a wary look. Thor was eating half the fridge. Tony was in his workshop doing...whatever. Clint was playing video games. Natasha was simply resting on the couch, watching Steve and the boy play around with Steve's art collection.

Steve had several loose sheets of paper, colored pencils, markers, and (a gag joke from Tony) crayons. They were spilled over the coffee table. Steve was sketching Clint's face--intense look of concentration in his eyes, tongue sticking out of his mouth, five o'clock shadow--while the boy was doodling spiders.

"You still haven't told us your name," Steve commented.

The boy peeked at him, then returned to his doodles.

Natasha slipped off of the couch and sat with them at the table. She took one of the pencils and started writing.

About ten minutes later, the boy looked at what she'd written, and was still writing. He looked up at her with question marks in his eyes.

She pointed to the top line. "That's my name in English: Natasha." She pointed to the next line. "That's how you write it in Russian. This one's Chinese, that's the Spanish version, Natalia, Korean, Swahili..."

She went down the several dozen languages she knew (or at least knew enough to spell her name). The boy's eyes widened with every one. About halfway down the list, he picked up a crayon and wrote his name next to hers on the English line.

Natasha smiled. "Peter Parker. Nice to meet you."

They shook hands. Natasha picked up her pencil. "This how you write Peter in Russian..."

--

Steve had hoped that the Parkers had survived the second Chitauri attack. It didn't happen.

Matter of fact, after a bit of digging on his and Natasha's part, they found out that Peter's parents had died when he was very little, and that he'd been living with his aunt and uncle. They had died when their house had caught fire during the fight. There was no one else in the picture.

"Foster homes it is," Natasha muttered. "Has Amy gotten back to you?"

"Not yet," Steve said tightly. It was their third day of having Peter in the Tower, and he still hadn't said a word. They'd gone shopping earlier, getting clothes and food and some children's books. Peter was reading one of them now, looking bored.

"Guys, I don't want to rush you," Bruce said from behind them, quietly so as not to be heard by anyone else, "but we need to get him to a home."

"You haven't had an accidental change in eight months," Natasha said calmly. "Every time you do change, it's out of the Tower, and there've been no casualties outside of property damage. You're fine."

"I'd feel better with Thor around," Bruce muttered. Steve couldn't help but agree; while he and Tony could probably take on the Hulk if he got out of control, Thor could do it more quickly. But he was out of town, with Jane. "Also, he's already read all of the books you've got him. I suggest getting him a tablet."

Steve winced. "He's a kid."

"And if he breaks it, Tony'll just give him a new one. But he won't break it," Bruce promised. "He's smarter than that."

Steve ended up following Bruce's advice. A few hours later, he found the eight-year-old engrossed in a downloaded PDF of "The Sorcerer's Stone." Steve called Amy and told her to add "possible genius-level IQ" to the file.

Chapter Text

"There's no way you saw Snow White as a teenager," Tony declared.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "It came out in 1934. June, I think. Saw it in theaters."

"It's not THAT old!" Tony looked at the others. "Is it?"

Someone tugged at his jeans.

Tony looked down. Peter was sitting on the floor, at the coffee table that had unofficially become his spot in the last two weeks, paper and crayons scattered around him, and a tablet in his hands. He gave that tablet to Tony.

Disney Snow White release date:

Development on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs began in early 1934, and in June 1934, Walt Disney announced the production of his first feature, to be released under Walt Disney Productions, to The New York Times."

"Traitor," Tony grumbled, giving the tablet back.

Peter smirked at him.

Tony paused. He committed that face to memory as Peter turned back to his drawing.

They settled on Aladdin for their movie (everything had taken a decidedly G-rated turn since a kid moved in). Tony sat next to Steve and, during the loud opening credits, whispered, "Has Peter ever smiled before?"

Steve paused, then shook his head. He was grinning.

One week later, social services found a potential family for Peter.

--

Steve kept all of Peter's drawings. His favorite was one Peter had drawn of all of the Avengers: Iron Man and Thor flying, Hulk roaring, and Clint, Nat, and Steve in the middle, smiling.

--

The family returned Peter to Avengers Tower four days later.

"He's a good kid," Mrs. Johnson said, pulling what looked like spiderwebs from her clothes. "But...um, we can't really...handle him."

"I didn't know he could make webs," Tony said gleefully. His enthusiasm waned when he looked at Peter, who was studying his shoes with great interest. Clint gently pulled him away, Peter's single suitcase trailing behind him.

"Yeah, that's...that's a thing, apparently," Mr. Johnson replied tightly. "Good luck."

Tony saw the Johnsons out, then went to find Peter. He was on the general floor, in the kitchen, while Clint made him a grilled cheese sandwich.

"You've been holding out on us, Spidey," Tony accused, sitting on the chair next to him. "So, do you make webs out of your butt like a real spider, or what?"

Peter wrinkled his nose, then shook his head.

"I don't believe it."

Peter frowned.

"Gotta see it to believe it."

Peter hesitated, picking at his shirt.

"Hey." Clint crouched in front of Peter. "We're not pushing. You don't do anything you don't want to do. What Tony's trying to say is that the Johnsons are prudes who probably don't even think Thor's lightning-strikes are cool."

Peter looked downright scandalized at that. Tony couldn't blame him; Thor's lightning was pretty awesome.

"So, if you want to show off those webs, you go right ahead. If not, no biggy. 'Kay?"

Slowly, Peter nodded. Clint ruffled his hair and went back to the stove.

A string of webbing shot out and attached itself to a bag of potato chips across the kitchen. Peter tugged, and the bag flew to his hand. He opened it and started snacking.

It happened so fast Clint missed it. Tony himself barely saw it.

Clint pointed his spatula to Peter. "Now you're just teasing me."

Peter grinned and crunched on a chip.

--

"I don't understand," Thor confessed. It was later that night, Peter tucked up in the guest bedroom. "The Spider Child is a kind, intelligent soul. Anyone would be lucky to claim him as their own. Why would that couple return him?"

"Most humans aren't used to this," Natasha explained. "They get scared easily."

"Chicken shits," Clint grumbled.

"Well...then can't we take him?" Thor asked. "Permanently."

Steve brightened. Tony moved to shut that train down immediately. "We're not raising a kid in this tower. We're a superhero team, not a nanny service, much as I'd like to star in a reality TV show."

"I never thought I'd say this, but Tony's right," Nat said. "We could easily take care of his physical needs: food, water, shelter. Education wouldn't be a problem. What about discipline? What do we do when he goes out of line?"

"And on the other hand, there's going to his soccer games or science fairs," Tony added. "Helping him with his homework, giving him advice on dating girls...I mean, I could help him with that last one, but the advice I have isn't exactly PG-rated."

"Is there not a saying: it takes a village to raise a child?" Thor demanded.

"A village and--ideally--two central parental units who have at least nine months to properly prepare for a child," Bruce said. "Us? Half of us were raised in dysfunctional households, if we were raised in households at all. None of us are prepared to raise him. We're not what's best for Peter."

Steve put a hand on Thor's shoulder. "It's a good thought, Thor. But they're right. Our best chance it to find a family that'll accept Peter."

Tony didn't have to be a genius to know Steve was already starting to think that the Avengers were the best family for Peter. Tony knew that that was shit.

Chapter Text

Two more foster families took Peter. Two more foster families returned him within a week, like he was a sweater that didn't fit quite right. Every time he returned he looked a little more downtrodden. But every day he stayed at the Tower he smiled just a little more.

It was four months before Steve made his decision.

It happened on a Tuesday. Legally, Peter had to be taking some kind of education, although with his situation he couldn't settle into a proper elementary school. So he was doing it online, one of the wonders of the Twenty-First Century. (Steve wondered, if that kind of thing had been available in his time, would he and Bucky have been able to get their degrees.) Steve was helping him out with math. It was more Tony's area, but he was holed up in his workshop (surprise surprise). Besides, Steve didn't mind. Scratch that, he loved spending time with Peter. Probably more than he should.

Although, considering the fact that the eight-year-old was doing sixth-grade algebra, Steve wouldn't be able to actually help him with homework pretty soon.

They were in Peter's room--no, the guest bedroom--at the desk. Peter was sitting in his chair, shifting his wait and fidgeting. He was normally so still and calm, but something was clearly on his mind. Steve frowned. "Are you okay?"

Peter nodded.

"Do you want to stop for a while?"

He shook his head.

"All right." Steve turned back to the textbook. "So, exponents. Squaring is easy, but this one's asking what five is to the third degree..."

"A hundred and twenty-five."

Steve froze.

Peter's voice was raspy and rugged with disuse, and he pinched his mouth together as soon as the words were out of his mouth, like he'd done something wrong.

Steve grinned and gave Peter a half-hug. "That's right. That's absolutely perfect."

Peter relaxed and gave a shy smile.

Inspired, Steve turned back to the textbook. He still had his arm around Peter's skinny shoulders. "Ah, what about two to the fourth degree?"

"Sixteen," he said, without hesitation.

"And nine to the third?"

That took a minute, and then, "Seven hundred and twenty-nine."

A dozen math problems later, with Peter's voice growing stronger with every number, Steve realized the decision had been made for him. He was keeping this boy.

--

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," Tony said as soon as he walked in the room.

"Yes he did, I saw him," Clint said hurriedly. Tony smacked him over the head on the way to his loveseat and plopped down, only to get smacked in the face by a thrown pillow.

Steve rolled his eyes, wondering why he was considering adopting a child when he was already babysitting a bunch of infants. They were in the living room, and it was nine o'clock at night. Peter was in bed, nothing was blowing up, and Steve had called a team meeting.

"All right," Steve said, taking a deep breath. "This is my decision. It affects me personally. I'm not trying to drag any of you into anything, just so you know."

That piqued their interests. Tony set down the phone he'd been fiddling with and actually made eye contact with Steve.

"I'm adopting Peter," Steve said.

Thor immediately brightened. Clint gave a muttered, "Called it." Bruce's face tightened even as he smiled. Natasha was as unreadable as ever.

Tony scowled. "What the hell, Rogers?"

"It'll only be my name on the certificate," Steve placated. "I just wanted to let you know ahead of time."

"Have you told the kid yet?"

"No, not until I get the paperwork underway."

"Fury?"

"No. You're the first."

"Do you even know how to be a father?" Tony demanded.

"I father you," Steve countered.

"This is serious," Tony said, uncharacteristically grave. "I know you care about the kid, Rogers. We all do. But this is not what's best for Peter."

"I say that fatherhood would suit the captain nicely," Thor said, standing and clapping Steve on the shoulder. "He is inspiring to children, compassionate, and knows the good of discipline."

Steve smiled, feeling warm. He knew Thor would agree with him, but it was still nice to hear his support.

"Where would he live?" Bruce asked.

"With me," Steve said, turning back to Tony. "If you don't want him here, fine. I have an apartment in DC, and another in Brooklyn."

"It would be good PR," Natasha mused. "Pepper would have a field day."

Tony still would not budge. "And if you die?" he challenged. "Which is a very likely scenario, I might add. I'd be amazed if all of us survived the next ten years, and you're going to have to if you want to see that kid turn into an adult."

"He'll have a godparent," Steve said.

"Who?"

"Tony..."

"No, you have not thought this through," Tony snapped. "We're talking about the kid's life here. We can't take that lightly."

"I'm not!" Steve snapped back. "This is my decision. I'm simply giving you the courtesy of a head's up."

"Your decision effects everyone. I thought you understood that, being a captain and all."

"You don't ever have to see Peter again if you don't want to," Steve said. He was, frankly, appalled. He knew Tony was uncomfortable around the boy, but this was just ridiculous.

"That's. Not. The point," Tony gritted out. "I am not at the center of this. Peter is. You're not thinking this through Rogers, and he'll be the one who suffers for it."

"This isn't going to happen overnight," Bruce pointed out. "This process takes months, even for Captain America. We'll have plenty of time to work out the logistics."

"We?" Tony echoed. "Are you planning on being Daddy #2?"

"No," Bruce said levelly. "I've never wanted children."

"Why not?" Clint asked curiously.

Bruce didn't blink. "Besides the Other Guy? I grew up in an abusive household. I don't know what a healthy family looks like, or a good father."

Thor looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. Clint grinned. "Hey, me too! We should start a club or something."

"I thought you were raised in the circus."

"Yeah, I ran away to the circus for a reason."

"Is this a common practice on Midguard?" Thor asked, clearly shocked.

"No," Natasha said, then rethought it. "Well, it's not rare. But it's getting there. And in fact, a child has a much higher chance of getting abused if they're put in a foster home."

"You don't have to abuse a kid to fuck him up," Tony said darkly.

Steve frowned and gave Tony a considering look, dread coiling in his stomach. "Tony, is there something you want to..."

Tony stood and stormed out of the room. "Do whatever you want, Cap. Just remember that a boy is not a toy."

--

Half an hour later, Tony wasn't nearly as drunk as he wanted to be. Probably because every time Peter crashed with them he made sure to lower the alcohol intake to nothing more than tipsy. Also, Avenger. It was hard enough operating the Iron Man suit while sober.

He nursed a scotch at the bar on his private floor and sighed, trying to clear his head.

Someone shuffled their feet.

Tony looked over his shoulder. Peter looked back at him.

Tony sighed again. "You heard all of that, didn't you?"

Peter nodded. He cautiously approached Tony and sat two bar stools away. Then he said, in a very small voice, "Do you want me to leave?"

Tony choked on his scotch and spent several minutes coughing. "Holy shit, you can talk!"

Peter gave him a weird look. "Yeah. I just...didn't want to."

Tony winced, thinking about what he'd just said. "Do me a favor and don't repeat anything I say. Especially the swear words. Cap would have my hide." He took another sip, but it didn't sit well with him anymore.

Peter shifted on the stool. "Well? Do you?"

"What?"

"Want me to leave?"

And this is why I shouldn't be twenty feet from children, Tony thought. He'd had one conversation with the team and already the kid felt that he wasn't wanted.

"I want you to be in the best place for you to grow up," he said. "Somewhere safe, somewhere quiet, preferably without those annoying mayflies we call reporters buzzing around. Ideally you'd get a two-story house with two parents and a white picket fence, and either a dog or a cat. I don't want you to grow up here because you're not going to get that here."

Peter looked down at the counter. "I like it here."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, it's pretty sweet. Lots of toys, plenty of tech, great view, smooth and shiny walls to climb on..."

"And Steve and Thor and Nat and Clint and Bruce, though I don't think Bruce likes me very much. He stays away from me. You do, too."

Tony blinked, and made a face. "You know that Bruce turns into a giant green rage monster sometimes, right?"

Peter nodded.

"He's afraid that he might do that around you and smash you. That's why he stays away. And that's why I want you far away," Tony said. "You heard what he said: we don't know what a good family looks like. My parents never beat me like Bruce or Clint's did, but they still fu...really messed me up." He drained the rest of his scotch. Kid or no kid, he wasn't nearly drunk enough for this conversation. "It's called neglect. It's when you don't look after your kid, at all. It's like you're not even there. And that's just as bad. Kids, they need to be hugged, and talked to, and sent to their rooms when they screw up--don't give me that look; deep down, you know it's true--and when the kid doesn't get that, they...they turn out like me."

Peter's forehead wrinkled. "But you're Iron Man."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, I know. Iron Man: yes. Tony Stark: not recommended. The suit's the only good thing about me." He refilled his glass. "It's an awesome piece of technology, don't get me wrong. But Iron Man can't be a dad. You need to be out of the suit for that job."

Peter didn't say anything for a while. Tony took a few more sips of scotch, enjoying the burn down his chest.

"I don't want a dad," Peter said quietly.

Tony gave him a skeptical look. "Really." Sure, all kids dreamed about being without their parents at some point in time. But Tony had thought that, with Peter actually not having any parents to speak of, he'd be smarter than that.

Peter shook his head. "Or a mom. I lived with...with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. And that's what I want. Aunts and uncles. Not a mom and dad." He looked up at Tony, eyes shining. "If you can't be a dad, can you be an uncle?"

Tony stared at him, like he'd just belted out a Russian opera. He set his scotch down and rubbed his face with a groan. "No fair. You're using the puppy eyes."

"I'm not a puppy. I'm a spider."

Tony lifted his face and gave Peter a measured look. I'm gonna kill Steve.

He sighed, and held out his hand. "Fine. Uncle it is."

Peter beamed, and dashed over to hug Tony.

Chapter Text

The team decided that Steve should go public about the adoption once it was finalized. As much as they wanted to keep Peter a secret, for his own safety, it just wasn't feasible. Someone would eventually find out. It was better to announce it on their own terms.

"So, school," Clint said, lounging upside-down on one of the sofas, his hair brushing against the floor. It was a late-night "family meeting," all the Avengers gathered in the communal living room to talk about Peter. Even though it was only Steve who would be the official parent, they were all getting involved. Especially Tony. Steve loved them for it. "Public, private, home-schooled..."

"It'd be safer to home-school him," Natasha pointed out. "The Tower is the most secure building on the eastern seaboard."

"He needs to be with kids his own age," Tony said.

"He's a genius," Clint said. "Public schooling ain't gonna cut it."

"Speaking as a genius, he needs to be with kids his own age."

"There should be a private school for gifted students around here," Bruce said. "JARVIS?"

"There are three suitable education centers that would fit Mr. Parker's needs," JARVIS said. "All privatized."

Tony waved his hand. "Not a problem."

Natasha's mouth thinned. "He's going to get bullied."

"Why?" Thor asked. "He may be shy and small, but..."

"He's a mutant. No, Thor, it doesn't make sense. But humans don't like things or people that are different. He's small, he's quiet, he's smart, and he's a mutant. Therefore, he's a target."

Steve gave her a look. "Not one person in this room is going to let him grow up without knowing how to take down an attacker. I give it a month before he can handle an amateur adult, never mind a ten-year-old."

"Dibs!" Clint called.

"Get in line," Nat growled.

Steve pointedly cleared his throat at the both of them. They both went quiet. Natasha gave him a perfectly innocent expression while Clint mulishly crossed his arms. The look was undermined by his being upside-down.

"First of all, I'm sure we'll all get the chance to give Peter self-defense lessons," Steve said. "Second of all, I'm the father, so I get dibs."

"Dibs on what?"

Steve looked over his shoulder from his seat on the couch to see Peter walking into the room in his PJ's.

"On teaching you how to kick a person's butt if they ever try to mess with you," Tony said. "Who do you want first: Steve, Clint, or Nat?"

Peter made a face. "Thor."

Thor barked a laugh while the others groaned and Clint fell off the sofa. Tony grinned. "Atta boy."

"What are you doing up?" Steve asked, once he'd recovered from the betrayal. "It's almost ten."

Peter looked at his feet. "Couldn't sleep."

There was a pause, and for a moment Steve had perfectly telepathy with all of his teammates. They'd all experienced nightmares. Of course Peter would have some from his aunt and uncle's fiery death.

"There's a cure for that," Tony said, getting out of his love seat. "Warm milk and cookies. I'm pretty sure Bird-brain has some stashed away."

"Peter can have three," Clint said, staying on the floor and putting his arms behind his head. "Tony, you touch them, you die."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony led Peter into the kitchen. Bruce leaned forward in his seat. "We need to do a medical check-up. Make sure he's vaccinated."

"JARVIS, you're keeping notes?" Steve asked.

"Of course, Captain Rogers."

"What about security?" Natasha asked. "We might want to hire a bodyguard."

"Aye, when Loki and I were children, we had armed guards with us at all times," Thor agreed. "As do all Asguardian royals and nobles."

Clint snorted. "You're not going to get a better bodyguard than an Avenger. One of us can get him to and from school, and wherever else."

"What if we're assembled?" Natasha challenged. "What if we're halfway around the world?"

"We'll leave that to Tony," Steve decided. "Now, about godparents..."

--

The first time the Avengers were assembled with Peter in the Tower, nobody was happy. They rarely were when some monster was taking a chomp out of their city, but usually Thor was excited for the chance to do what he did best while Clint and Tony cracked jokes. But they were all pretty grim as they suited up.

Any other eight-year-old would be enraptured by Earth's Mightiest Heroes getting ready to be heroes. Peter was smart enough to know the risks.

"Do you have to?" he asked, on the roof of the building as the Avengers headed for the quinjet.

Steve knelt so they were eye-to-eye. "Yeah. People are in trouble, and we have to help them."

"But why you? They have cops."

"Cops can't handle sea monsters," Steve said. "With great power comes great responsibility. We all have the power to help, which means we have the responsibility to help. Do you understand?"

Peter nodded.

Steve hugged him. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

Luckily the mission was relatively straight-forward. They had one close call when the dying sea monster almost crushed Iron Man as it fell, but nobody had anything worse than cuts and bruises. When they got back to the Tower after debriefing, they found Peter sleeping on the couch, the television turned on to the news station covering the battle.

--

Six months later, all the paperwork was filled out and a press conference was scheduled. Peter wrinkled his nose when he got into the suit Pepper had picked out for him. Steve sympathized as he straightened the boy's jacket. "As soon as we're done with this, we'll hit a Dairy Queen."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Peter smiled, but it quickly dropped. He looked down at his shoes.

Steve rubbed his arms, which were so small beneath his massive hands. "What's wrong?"

"Are you going to make me call you Dad?" he asked quietly. "Some of the foster-parents made me do that and I wanted to barf."

Steve was going to have words with social services when this was done. Tony had already begun putting together an organization specifically for mutant orphans; he'd been trading phone calls with Xavier.

Steve tipped Peter's chin up so he was looking at him. "You call me whatever you're comfortable calling me," he said. "Legally, yes, I'm your father. But you can't tell me Tony is any less of a parent to you. You had him wrapped around your finger from Day One."

Peter giggled. "He always sounds so mean, but he's really nice."

"I know he is."

"Can I call you Uncle Steve?"

Something warm settled in Steve's stomach. He smiled. "Yes, you can."

--

Despite what Steve said about dibs, Natasha was the first one to give Peter self-defense lessons. He wasn't surprised; the Black Widow had her own way of showing affection. She was right about him getting bullied: the meanest kids zeroed in on Peter on his first day of school at a private academy. When Steve was called to the school and he found Peter in the principal's office with a black eye, bandages wrapped around the knuckles of both hands, and three days' suspension for fighting even though it'd been in self-defense, Steve almost kissed her. Thor hailed the boy as a "great young warrior" and the team spent those three days going to zoos and parks of Peter's choosing. Bullies rarely bothered him after that. Natasha continued her lessons.

And they were all grateful for it, because Peter had to use those lessons for real two months after they went public.

It was a big week for Peter. He'd finished his first month of school (after the suspension), and his ninth birthday was in a few days. It would be the first birthday the Avengers celebrated. Steve was downright giddy at the prospect. He'd already bought and wrapped his present: two books about spiders. Peter was obsessed with them (for obvious reasons).

JARVIS had, without Tony's prompting, set up an alert whenever Peter's school was mentioned online, on police frequencies, anywhere. So the Avengers were the first to learn that the bodyguard they'd hired to accompany Peter at school had been shot dead, moments after the last class ended.

They were the first on the scene. The parents who'd gotten their kids before the commotion began were long gone. Everyone else was inside the building, nothing but shadows in the windows. The body of the guard was bleeding in the parking lot.

Steve hadn't even suited up, just grabbed his shield on his way out the door. The four minutes to the school were the longest in his life. He couldn't stop thinking about who it could be, whether they'd found Peter, what they were doing to him...

They heard him long before they saw him, Peter screaming and yelling. That had been one of Natasha's first lessons: make as much noise as possible. Half the time it'd scare off would-be attackers who wanted more than anything to be discreet. The other half brought help. Like now.

There were four kidnappers, trying to drag a kicking and screaming Peter into a van parked at the side of the building. One was trying to pull webbing from his feet while another reeled from a broken nose. The one behind the wheel was yelling obscenities at the others while the fourth man struggled to get Peter under control, trying to drag him away by the ankles. Peter had grabbed onto the brick wall and, thanks to his sticky spider fingers, was able to hold on while he kicked at the man's chest.

Steve gave a pointed "Ahem!"

All struggling, swearing, and moving stopped. The one with webs at his feet looked two seconds from pissing himself when he realized they were surrounded by some very pissed off Avengers. Especially Bruce, whose eyes were completely green.

The one with the broken nose made the mistake of reaching for his gun. Steve didn't know whether he intended to point it at one of them or at Peter, and he didn't wait to find out. He threw his shield straight at the man's head. The blow either killed him instantly or knocked him out; Steve didn't care.

The one with his hands around Peter's ankles was smart. He let go and held up his hands. Peter immediately scrambled away, climbing up the wall and pressing himself against the corner of the ceiling.

It was almost disappointing, how anticlimactic it all was. Clint and Natasha took care of the others, holding them under arrest until SHIELD could get there and take them away. Tony rattled scientific theories and equations at Bruce while the man focused on breathing; it was a system they had that so far was the best method of calming the Hulk down. Thor, the tallest of the group, went to Peter and peeled him off of the ceiling. Peter latched onto him and started shaking. He was tiny in Thor's arms, but the thunder god was incredibly gentle. "It's all right, little one," Thor mumbled, so low Steve's super-hearing barely picked it up over the wailing police sirens. "Your foes have been defeated. They won't be hurting you or anyone else."

Steve put a hand on Peter's back, getting his attention. He wanted to melt into a puddle and/or hit something when he saw that Peter's eyes were red and wet. "Uncle Thor's going to take you home, with Tony and Bruce." He met their eyes--Bruce's thankfully back to normal--and they nodded. "Nat, Clint and I will be there as soon as we're done cleaning up, all right?"

Peter nodded. Steve smiled and kissed his forehead. "Don't let Tony eat any of Clint's cookies."

That got a very weak, wobbly smile out of him. Thor adjusted his grip and carried him to the car, followed by Tony and Bruce. One of the would-be kidnappers yelped when Tony stepped on his hand, in the Iron Man armor. "Oops," he said, completely unapologetic. Steve didn't have the heart to call him out on it.

Steve talked to the police, reporting what happened. He was relieved when he heard that the bodyguard had been the only casualty, and felt guilty because he hadn't even considered the possibility of one of the children or teachers getting hurt. A SHIELD van arrived and Black Widow and Hawkeye loaded the kidnappers in it. The four weren't a part of any organization, or affiliated with any supervillain. They were just four schmucks who'd hoped to use Peter for ransom. Stupid amateurs.

The school had security footage of the attack. Steve had them send it to JARVIS. He didn't want to see it, not now, not ever. But he knew Nat would. And probably Tony.

As soon as they were no longer needed, the last three Avengers went straight to the Tower. One of the officers was kind enough to give them a ride, since the others had taken the car. Clint made a weak joke about it being the first time he'd been in a police car without being cuffed, but it fell flat.

As soon as the trio stepped into the elevator at the Tower, Steve said, "JARV--"

"Communal floor, Captain," the AI interrupted. "In the living room."

"How is he?" Clint asked.

The AI hesitated. "Still in shock, I believe."

Steve winced. Once the shock wore off, it was going to get ugly.

They were all in the living room watching a Dreamworks movie. Peter was still clinging to Thor, leaning against his chest. His feet were in Tony's lap. Bruce sat on the other side of Thor and was probably the one responsible for the blanket draped over everyone.

Steve set his shield against the wall and went around the couch. He crouched in front of Peter, who was staring blankly at the screen. He put a hand on Peter's head and rubbed his cheek with his thumb. "Hey."

Peter's red eyes focused on him. "Hey."

"It's three o'clock. You want something to eat?"

Peter shook his head. "No."

"Okay." Steve stayed where he was, keeping his hand on Peter because he could literally see the boy start to crumble. It only took two minutes before Peter buried his face in Thor's leg and started crying. All the Avengers converged on Peter, Natasha and Clint coming around and sitting next to Steve.

"John's d-dead," Peter hiccupped into Thor's leg.

Steve winced. The bodyguard. They'd probably killed him right in front of Peter. "I'm sorry, Peter. We know you liked him."

"I' was m'fault..."

Indignant noises and "No, not at all"s filled the room. Steve managed to turn Peter's face back to him. "You get none of the blame in this. Do you hear me? It was their fault. No one else's."

Peter shook his head, curling up further into himself.

Steve floundered. He knew guilt. Had experienced it himself, even when he knew it wasn't his to carry. He couldn't convince himself or any of his teammates to not feel guilty about things that weren't their fault. How was he supposed to convince Peter?

Bruce leaned forward and nudged the top of Peter's head. "Remember a couple of weeks ago, when Clint got hurt fighting robots?"

Peter sniffed. "Eleven stitches."

"Yeah, that wasn't fun," Clint muttered, putting a hand on the fresh scar on his arm. Peter had been on him the second he stepped through the door, and had counted the stitches himself.

"Clint, why you were fighting that robot?" Bruce asked.

"Besides the fact that it was orange and orange is a horrible color? It was trying to kill people."

Bruce turned back to Peter. "Whose fault is it that Clint got hurt? The people's?"

Peter slowly shook his head.

"Whose, then?"

"The robot's," he whispered.

"The robot's," Bruce agreed. "So if it's the robot's fault that it hurt Clint while he was trying to protect the people, then whose fault is it that John got shot trying to protect you?"

Peter scrunched up further. If he folded himself up any more he'd be the size of a soccer ball. "The bad guys'," he mumbled.

"Exactly. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you just keep telling yourself that, and it will."

"Can't stop thinking about it," Peter said.

Tony pinched Peter's leg. Peter yelped, bolting upright so fast he almost smacked Thor's face. "Ow!"

"Tony!" Steve scolded.

"Were you thinking about it then?" Tony asked smugly.

"No!" Peter snapped.

"See? That's a promise. You'll be fine."

"Not if you keep pinching me," Peter grumbled. Steve almost cheered as seeing their Peter again.

Of course, Peter started sulking, glaring at Tony, who looked the picture of innocence. Natasha nudged him. "Hey. Four adults? Any other boy would've pissed his pants and gotten himself kidnapped."

Peter shrugged, but there were the definite beginnings of a smile on the edges of his mouth. "I didn't know what I was doing. Mostly just kicked and yelled and stuff."

"It worked. We found you so fast because of all the racket. And you managed to break that one guy's nose."

"Bet he squealed like a pig when that happened," Clint snickered.

"Aye, there are many fully-trained warriors who wouldn't be able to fend off that many enemies at once," Thor added. "You're already better than half the soldiers of Asguard."

"Asguardians can take humans," Peter protested. "We're squishy."

"As are Asguardian bladders," Thor grumbled, gently sliding Peter off of him. "I need to use the water closet."

"Don't give me to Tony! He pinched me!"

"Don't give him to the guy with the Hulk," Bruce protested when Thor swung Peter over to him.

Steve snorted, stood, and took Peter himself. The boy had finally stopped shaking.

Chapter Text

Steve's head was spinning. Fury was dead. SHIELD tried to kill him. And there was a ghost called the Winter Soldier running around. Right now, his only ally was Natasha, and they were driving to his old military base in New Jersey.

Thor was off-planet, something about the realms exploding in war and he had to help his father sort it out. Clint was on a mission that required radio silence. Tony and Peter were over in California, helping Bruce get out of the country at Natasha's prompting; if SHIELD had turned on Steve, it was only a matter of time before they tried to get their hands on the Hulk. Or worse: Peter. The boy would make a fantastic hostage.

They hit a gas station about halfway to the base. Steve started for the pump, but Natasha beat him to it and shoved a cell phone in his chest. "Call him," she said.

Steve blinked. "What?"

"Call him," she repeated. "You have three minutes."

"You sure you don't want to..."

Natasha gave him a look. Steve wisely backed away, going to the other side of the car for the illusion of privacy.

Tony had given Peter a Starkphone for Christmas last year. Steve had argued with him beforehand, saying that ten was way too young for a phone. Tony had only laughed, and Bruce had pointed out that if there was an emergency and Peter needed to contact them or vice versa...

Now Steve reminded himself, again, that he really should not question Tony's judgement when it came to technology. He dialed the number and waited.

"Hello?"

Tension leaked out of Steve. He smiled. "Hey."

"Steve!" Peter cried. "Where are you? Are you okay? Is Aunt Nat okay? Do you need Iron Man?"

"I'm fine, and so's Nat," Steve promised. "We don't need Tony to do anything other than what he's already doing. I just...needed to check in with you."

"Where are you?"

Steve winced. "I can't tell you that. The less you know, the better."

The panic finally left Peter's voice. "Ugh. You sound like a bad spy movie."

"Story of my life," he grumbled. "I'm sorry I missed the science fair. How'd it go?"

"It was great! We won third place! Harry was mad because he thought we deserved first and tried to argue with the judges, so Gwen threw a pudding cup at him and MJ laughed so hard milk came out of her nose."

Steve grinned. Peter was still shy, but you'd never guess that this vibrant boy with friends and dreams was the same quiet kid the Avengers had taken in over two years ago. "Are you inviting them to your birthday party?"

"Yeah, but Gwen can't come," Peter lamented. "Her dad has a police ceremony thing that she has to go to. She says she might be able to come at the end and told me to save her a slice of cake. Do you think Uncle Thor'll be back in time?"

"Well, he said he didn't want to miss it," Steve said. "Apparently, turning eleven is a big deal on Asguard."

"He said he wanted to give me a sword--"

"No swords," Steve ordered. "You're not getting anything more deadly than a Nerf gun. And even that's toeing the line, considering all the mayhem you and Clint can do with one of those."

Peter hesitated. "Will you be back in time?"

Steve closed his eyes. "I don't know. This thing...whatever's going on here, it's big. Something rotten is happening in SHIELD, and if we don't root it out..."

"Bad things happen," Peter finished. "Try not to blow anything up, okay? Uncle Tony gets really cranky when you do that without him."

He smirked. "I'll try to limit the explosions."

Nat snapped her fingers to get his attention. The car was gassed up.

Steve sighed. "I've got to go."

"Okay," Peter said. "Be careful."

--

Bucky. The Winter Soldier was Bucky.

And the jerk had shot him. Three times!

"I told you not to blow anything up," Peter said.

Steve smiled even though it hurt. Tony had brought Peter to Steve's hospital right after the Triskelion fiasco. The boy had barely moved from the chair by Steve's bed, and right now he had his knees tugged against his chest.

"I told you I'd try to limit the explosions," Steve replied. "I didn't say I'd be successful."

Someone knocked on the door, and Sam poked his head in. "Hey, Steve. Do you--oh. Hey, kid."

"Hi," Peter said suspiciously. "Are you from SHIELD?"

"Ah, no. I'm Sam Wilson, friend of Steve's."

Peter looked at Steve for confirmation. Steve nodded. "That's Falcon."

Peter brightened. "The guy with the wings?"

"The guy with the wings," Sam confirmed, pulling up a chair next to Peter. "You must be the guy with the spider-webs."

Peter shrugged. He always shrank back a little every time someone outside the Avengers talked about his powers. "I guess."

"You guess?" Sam teased. "Is there another spider-kid running around that I should know about?"

Peter giggled. "No. I don't think so."

"Well, good. Hard enough to keep track of all the superheroes around here without adding duplicates."

"I'm not a superhero. I'm just a kid."

"Really?" Sam asked. He pointed to Steve. "Wouldn't know it by talking to this guy. All through the mission, it was all Peter Peter Peter. Wouldn't stop talking about how proud he was about you getting third place in your science fair."

Steve found himself blushing. "I wasn't that bad."

"You were absolutely that bad."

"I mentioned the science fair only once!"

"Before going on about how he was almost as good at shooting his webs than Hawkeye was at arrows," Sam said. "And how he was able to fight off four fully-grown men when he was eight--"

"Uncle Steve," Peter groaned.

"--how he's already branching out into the adult section in the library, and has been learning high school-level science from Stark and Banner--"

"I just play around in their workshop without blowing anything up."

"Impressive," Sam said. "I get the feeling anything in Stark's house would blow up if you looked at it funny."

Peter huffed and crossed his arms. "Well, maybe the reason Steve got beat up and shot so bad was because he was talking too much and not paying attention to the fight."

Sam tried to hide his laugh with a cough and failed miserably. Steve groaned. "You've been spending too much time with your uncle Tony."

"No such thing."

"Uh-huh." Steve looked up at Sam and noticed he seemed a bit grim. The amusement died. "Any word on..."

Sam shook his head. "Trail's cold. Not even Stark can find him. He won't be found until he wants to be found."

"Who, Bucky?" Peter asked.

Both men stared at Peter. He ducked his head with a blush. "I, uh...overheard Uncle Tony on the phone."

"What did we say about eavesdropping?" Steve scolded.

"That it's a valuable tool used by spies?" Peter tried.

"Are you a state-sanctioned spy?"

He looked down. "No."

"Uh-huh."

Peter's hands fiddled on his lap. "But don't worry. He'll come back."

Steve snorted. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" Sam asked quietly.

Steve shrugged, trying to ignore the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the physical injuries. "He doesn't remember me. Never did."

Peter's face scrunched in confusion. "But he remembered enough to save you."

Steve frowned.

"I'm just saying," Peter said. "He could've let you die. That's what the Winter Soldier was told to do. But he didn't. Why would he save you if he didn't know that you guys were friends?"

Steve couldn't say anything. His throat had stopped working.

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "He just needs some time, Steve. The guy doesn't have anything or anyone else, anyway. He'll come to you when he's ready."

--

"Cap, welcome back." Tony clapped him on the shoulder and steered him right back into the elevator. "I've gotta show you something."

"Can it wait?" Steve asked. Despite the serum, his arm was still in a sling, it hurt to walk, and he was exhausted. He just wanted to crash on the couch and not move for the next week.

"Nope. Peter was adamant that I give this to you ASAP. That was the word he used: adamant. I'm not even joking."

That piqued Steve's interest, especially when he realized they were going to Tony's workshop. The genius patted DUM-E's arm as he led Steve to the center of the room.

"I know you had to use one of your earlier suits for reasons," Tony said. "But it did call attention to the fact that your current spandex could use some attention."

"I don't wear spandex," Steve defended.

"Not anymore." Tony pulled a blue cloth from the table and tossed it.

Steve caught it, and realized it wasn't a cloth. It was his Captain America uniform, the newer model. Except it was thicker and softer.

"That is five times better than Kevlar," Tony boasted. "Best on the market. I'm working on a contract with the military to make it available to all our soldiers. Peter actually helped me design it; he's got an eye for fashion. Maybe he should try being a designer. He's already got a label, if you'll check the tag."

Steve peaked at the collar. There was no tag, per se, but there was a small spider logo sewed right below the collar. He snorted. He took a closer look at the suit as a whole. It was closer to the original than SHIELD's version had been, with white and red over the abs. But it was a brighter blue, and the pieces slotted together not unlike the Iron Man suit.

"This time if you get shot, you won't actually get shot," Tony said.

Steve smiled. "Thank you, Tony.

Chapter Text

The next kidnapping attempt on Peter was much more successful.

It'd been almost two years since the SHIELD/Hydra/Winter Soldier blow-up. Steve thought about Bucky every day, wondering where he was. What he was doing. What he was feeling. Intellectually, he knew that the Winter Soldier would find playing fugitive as little more than hide-and-seek. There was no trail of him, so not even Hydra could find him. Steve could've gone out hunting anyway. He's started missions with less.

But he didn't. He had a team. He had a son. And if he left the other Avengers to look after the four thirteen-year-olds running around the Tower, there wouldn't be a Tower to go back to.

"I'm just saying, the Civil War is way more interesting than the Cold War," Gwen Stacy protested. "Things actually blew up. And it ended slavery!"

"We need primary sources for this," Harry Osborn argued from the love seat. "As in documents that were written at that time. The older the thing, the harder they are to get."

Mary Jane shook her head. "Not necessarily. Museums are full of that type of thing. Your dad and Peter's folks can probably get us a VIP pass or something."

Peter, sandwiched between the two girls on the couch, gave her a mock scandalized look. "Are you suggesting we use our wealth and privilege for your ulterior motives?"

"Yes," the girls said at the same time.

"It's the whole reason we hang out with you," Gwen added with a smirk.

Steve was in the kitchen getting a snack, half an ear on the debate in the living room. A few years ago, a comment like that would've crushed Peter, and probably Tony, too, no matter how teasing the tone. Now, Peter pointed his finger with a triumphant shout, "I knew it! Harry and I are officially divorcing you two."

Gwen gasped. "No, Peter, think about what you're doing! Think of the children!"

"Too late! We have befriended another."

"What's going on?" MJ asked, her tone mostly resigned on Gwen fake-sobbed on Peter's shoulder.

"Just roll with it. They'll get cranky if they can't act like children," Harry said.

"That's because you are children," Steve said, coming into the living room. He had a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a carton of Oreos in the other. "Although you are admittedly more mature than half of the adults in this building."

The first time Harry, MJ, and Gwen had met the Avengers, they'd been dumbstruck, the girls more so than Harry, who came from a similar economic background as Peter and so was used to meeting big-shots. Peter had looked torn between proud and embarrassed before Clint challenged MJ--rumored Mario Kart champion of the century--to a video game duel. And it went downhill from there.

Now, Steve was the soccer mom of the group whenever they came over, which was about once a week. More, if they were working on some sort of school project, especially science. Tony and Bruce let them do (fully supervised) experiments whenever they had a physics or chemistry or even biology project.

"History project?" Steve guessed as Gwen snatched the cookies and Peter stole a handful of popcorn before passing the bowl to MJ, who popped a few kernels in her mouth and passed it to Harry.

"Yeah. We've got two and a half months, but we need a topic by Friday and a list of potential sources next week," Peter said.

"And then we're presenting it to the rest of the class and leading a discussion on it," MJ added, wringing her hands.

"We can BS the discussion," Harry assured her. "But the actual presentation has to be good."

Peter brightened. "Hey, interviews count as primary!"

"Which is why Mrs. Johnson said we couldn't do the Depression or World War II," Gwen grumbled, jerking a thumb at Steve.

His face fell. "Oh, yeah."

Steve blinked. "Wait a minute, she deliberately limited the options of your group specifically because of where Peter lives?"

"Pretty much."

"She didn't explicitly say we couldn't use you as a source," Peter said, before Steve could get properly angry and have JARVIS set up a meeting with the school. "But doing a project on Captain America when we all know Captain America does seem a bit like cheating."

Harry scoffed through his mouthful of popcorn. "Speak for yourself. I need a good grade on this."

"What about the First World War?" Gwen asked, looking up at Steve. "Were you around for that? Or your parents...?"

Steve shook his head. "I was born after, and my dad was too sick to fight. But...my grandpa fought in the Civil War. And yes, he did share a few stories."

She immediately brightened and smirked at Harry. "See? Awesome primary source of the Civil War, right here."

"Pretty sure he counts as secondary, since he wasn't actually there," Harry countered. "It's a second-hand account."

Peter checked his phone. "Guys, I'm leaving for the movies with Tony and Bruce in ten minutes and Gwen's dad is a dictator of curfew. Are we doing Civil War or not?"

"What movie?" MJ asked.

"That new time travel one. We go and make fun of all the bad science. One time we almost got kicked out!"

Steve cleared his throat.

"Almost," Peter stressed. "And it was Tony's fault."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Let's do Civil War."

Gwen whooped. MJ rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Rogers, for offering to help."

"Thank you for calling me Steve," he said.

She gave him a sweet smile. He got the feeling that she wasn't sticking to titles because of politeness, but because she was much more stubborn than the shy girl-next-door exterior would have you believe.

Gwen kept the cookies as Steve herded the teenagers out the door. He turned to Peter. "How are you getting to the theater?"

"Happy's driving me. We're meeting Tony and Bruce there," he said, gathering up the papers and folders into a haphazard paper mountain on the edge of the coffee table, which had once held crayons and children's drawings. "Oh, and Thor might be joining us with Darcy and Jane, but we don't know for sure. They're pretty wrapped up in...whatever it is Jane's studying. I don't even know."

"I thought you were a science nerd," Steve challenged with a grin.

"Biology and technology, yes. Human physics, yes. Weird Asguardian voodoo-physics? She might as well be speaking Asguardian."

Steve ruffled Peter's hair as he moved to the door, because he was at the stage where physical affection was extremely embarrassing and turned red as an apple. "Go on, make sure Tony and Bruce don't blow up the theater."

"Aw, Ste-eve," Peter complained. "You're no fun."

Steve shook his head as Peter headed for the elevator. In moments like this, he wasn't an Avenger, or Captain America, or even Captain Rogers. He was just Uncle Steve. And he could easily admit: he liked that title the most.

--

They got the call half an hour later.

Steve, Clint and Natasha met Tony, Bruce and Thor at the scene. The place was swarming with SHIELD agents. The dark blue car Peter insisted to ride in instead of a limo was scattered across the intersection. Steve saw Happy disappear into an ambulance, oxygen mask on his face, suit and skin shredded. Tony was stone-faced a few feet away. Thunder rumbled as Thor clenched his fists, looking every bit the Asguardian prince even in jeans and a t-shirt. Bruce's eyes were a shade too green, but he was still in control.

"What happened?" Steve demanded.

"Truck t-boned them, knocking Happy out. Don't know if it injured Peter, but witnesses say he tried to fight them off. There were just too many," Tony said. He didn't look up from his cell phone. Steve could see the screen flashing with camera feeds and city maps. "And they were armed."

"They were Hydra," Natasha said.

Steve's blood turned to ice and his vision turned red. He'd read the files of what they'd done to Bucky. If they so much as scratched Peter he would tear them apart limb by limb.

"Chances are, he's a bargaining chip," she continued. "I think that they think we have Barnes, and that they want a trade."

"No one's seen him for years," Clint protested. "I know he's good, and we're good, but even we can't keep a secret like that for that long."

"Then it'll push us to look for him." She jerked a head at Steve. "He has a much better chance of getting Barnes to come quietly than anyone else on the planet, never mind Hydra."

"Even if we had Steven's shield brother, it wouldn't matter," Thor declared. "We will make no trade."

Steve's eyes flicked to Tony, still hacking on his phone. He wondered if Tony would think differently if he knew what Steve suspected.

"Nothing," Tony snarled, shoving his phone in his pocket. "They jammed the city cameras during the attack. I can't find anything."

Bruce's sigh sounded more like a hiss. "So, we wait."

--

Sam was waiting for them at the tower. He was in civilian clothes, but had the Falcon wings casually slung over his shoulder, and Steve suspected the rest of the uniform was in the duffel bag at his feet.

"I heard about Peter," he said. "Anything I can do to help?"

Despite the circumstances, Steve smiled. "Not yet. Thanks for coming."

"Sure."

Bruce, ever the one for politeness, offered Sam something to drink as they trickled into the living room. Steve moved to join him, but his phone rang.

Praying it was SHIELD, he pulled it out. His shoulders slumped when he saw it was Gwen Stacy.

He shook his head at his disappointed teammates and went into the hallway to take the call. "Gwen."

"Tell me they're talking about a different Peter Parker," she demanded.

He shook his head. "No."

There was muffled cursing. Steve didn't have the heart to tell the young lady to watch her language. "Okay, well, my dad says that the SHIELD guys are being dicks about jurisdiction, but he can give you some of his officers if you want them. You just have to tell SHIELD that they're working with you and they should just shut up and get back to work. His words, not mine."

Steve smiled. On any other day, he would've laughed. God, she sounded like Peggy. "Those are absolutely your words. This is Hydra, though. Not your run-of-the-mill criminals."

There was some shuffling. A male voice Steve recognized as Captain Stacy muttered something. Then Gwen was back. "They'll take that risk. Nobody knows this city better than the NYPD. They can help track Hydra down and leave the superhero fight to you guys. No sane person is planning on getting in the middle of that, anyway."

Steve covered the phone and peaked his head in the living room. "Would SHIELD play nice with the NYPD if they offered to help?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "If you told them to."

He nodded and went back to the phone. "We'll take all the help we can get. I'll tell Fury that it's a collaborative effort."

"Yes!" She put her hand on the phone, but Steve could clearly hear the triumphant, "Dad, you have Captain America's blessing!"

"I'm not getting married," came the retort.

"I know it's kind of moot at this point, but if you need anything, call me, okay?" Gwen said, suddenly sounding vulnerable. "We, uh...really need a good grade on that history project, which we can't do without Peter."

Steve snorted. He was fluent enough in Stacy to hear the very real concern she had for her friend. "We'll get him. Thank you, Gwen."

When he hung up, Steve was still worried. Insanely worried. But it wasn't as bad as it'd been ten minutes ago. Because there were so many people on his side--on Peter's side. Hydra didn't have a chance.

--

Gwen had been right to force her father and SHIELD together. It was the NYPD that found one of the conspirators two hours later, with a coded message in his pocket.

Unfortunately, he didn't know anything. "They wouldn't tell me anything," he said smugly as he sat in the interrogation room.

"Good thing you did," Captain Stacy said, holding up the note in an evidence bag.

The man's nervous look was all the confirmation Steve needed: that note was the key.

Now all they had to do was decode it.

"Anything?" he asked Tony and Bruce, who were putting their heads together at the tower half an hour later.

"Without the five-letter password, nothing," Bruce growled.

Tony piped up: "And before you ask, I ran it through JARVIS. Whatever word they're using, it's not English. Or Russian. Or German."

"Or French, I regret to say," JARVIS said. "I'm beginning Spanish."

Steve looked over the note again, hoping that the code was something they'd used back in the War and that it would jog a memory. But like the last dozen times, nothing.

A minute later, JARVIS said, "Sir, we've received a message from an unknown, untraceable source. It has no viruses."

"What's it say?" Tony asked, though it sounded like he already knew.

"'Return the Asset to us, and we will return your child.' That is all."

He gave a tart nod. "Nat called it."

"We can't tell them we don't have Bucky," Steve said. He didn't mention what would happen to Peter if they did. They all knew, anyway.

--

"Captain Rogers, you have a message," JARVIS said, some time later.

Steve looked up from his punching bag, the third in the last hour. "Huh?"

"I cannot trace the source, though it appears to be different from the one before."

"What's it say?"

"'Calze.'"

Steve frowned. "What?"

"The Italian words for 'socks,'" JARVIS said. If it was possible for a robot to sound confused, JARVIS did.

It took Steve a full minute to understand. Hope exploded in his chest. "How many letters?"

"Five, Captain."

Steve sprinted out of the gym.

--

The note was basic driving directions to a facility in upstate New York, about an hour and a half-long drive. It was in the middle of a forest and looked more like a resort than a secret Hydra base. Discounting the men with rifles, of course.

"We have three floors and a few underground tunnels," Tony said on the quinjet, pulling up a map on the screen. "Heat signatures say we're looking at forty-eight people. Peter could be any one of them."

"Can we sneak in through the tunnels?" Nat asked.

"No, they've got those guarded. Probably hooked up to nasty traps, too."

Steve looked over the facility and sighed. "A stealth approach is impossible. We have to do a direct hit."

"Can we try a Trojan horse?" Bruce asked. "Like the last time you went into a Hydra base?"

Steve shook his head. "They'll expect that. Everyone knows we're all going into this. If only one of us shows up that'll be all kinds of suspicious. But..." He eyed Bruce. "Tony, what's the building made out of?"

"Well, it looks like wood, but in fact it's ten times stronger than steel," Tony said. "Even Thor would have a hard time getting through it."

"How about the Hulk?"

Tony's hand made a so-so gesture. "Maybe."

"The Other Guy could kill Peter by accident," Bruce protested.

"Not if he can't get into the building," Steve pointed out. "We'll lead with Hulk. He'll make a good distraction while the rest of us come in from the north. Tony, Thor, Sam, I want you in the sky. Especially with Iron Man and Falcon's sensors."

Sam grinned. "We'll make sure no one leaves the party early."

--

As much as Tony liked watching Hulk smash and blowing things up from a distance, he wanted to be on the ground with Steve and Nat. It'd be really nice to punch something.

But for once, he did exactly what Captain America told him to do. With the infrared he could see everyone inside scrambling. "Well, they're definitely panicking," he said, shooting a guard who was aiming at Clint, who was up in one of the trees like Legolas with his bow. Wait, did Legolas ever actually shoot things from trees? He grew up in a forest, so he must have at some point...

Nat managed to get the door open, either by outright hacking or getting the code out of a Hydra soldier. She and Steve went in, leaving Hulk to play with the rest outside and Thor to Hulk-sit.

"Where is he?" Steve snapped. Tony could hear the panicked answer over the comm: "We don't know! His cell's empty."

"Bullshit."

Tony nearly choked. "Language, dear captain!"

Steve ignored him. "Where's the cell?"

A few minutes later, Natasha was the one who cursed. Apparently, that guard had been telling the truth. "Someone must've moved him without telling the ground troops."

"Then we may wipe this vile place off the face of the earth?" Thor asked hopefully.

"Not while we're still inside it!"

"There might be evidence here," Steve said. He grunted as he punched someone. "Keep everyone alive and everything intact, if at all possible."

Something beeped in Tony's HUD. He saw two blobs of heat moving just underground, through the tunnels. Hulk must've heard or seen something, too, because he jumped fifty feet in the air in that direction.

"I've got two heat signatures on the southeast side," Tony reported, flying around the fortress. "Hulk's heading for them."

"Get to them first," Steve ordered.

"Got it." Tony put more juice in his repulsors and hurried to get to the unlucky bastards before Hulk did.

--

The bad news: he was too late.

The good news: one of them wasn't a henchman.

"Peter!" Tony gasped, landing on the ground.

For once, his entrance came unnoticed. The lone henchman--henchwoman, actually--had a rifle and was staring at Hulk slack-jawed as he picked Peter up and hugged him. Hugged him! The Hulk was hugging! Peter, who didn't appear to be injured at all, or scared at the monster wrapped around him, giggled and hugged back. "Hey, buddy! Yeah, I missed you, too. Are you going to carry me off into the sunset like a rescued princess?"

"Tony, what's going on?" Steve snapped. "What about Peter?"

"Uh...Hulk's got him," Tony said.

That caught the woman's attention. She yelped and fired her rifle.

The bullets pinged harmlessly off of the Iron Man suit. But the noise caught everyone's attention. Hulk set Peter on the ground with more gentleness than Bruce with a glass vial. He then rounded on the woman with a growl.

Tony hesitated. They had Peter now, and this woman was at least partially responsible for keeping him locked up. She'd probably only rescued him to cut a deal with the Avengers. He couldn't say that he had much sympathy for her. On the other hand, he didn't want this to happen in front of Peter...

Peter, who did not hesitate. He shot a web at a tree branch and, with a few acrobatic flips and swings that reminded Tony of Black Widow's jumps, landed right between the ten-foot-tall green rage monster and its target. Tony choked. Peter splayed his arms out in a clear move of defense. "Hulk! It's okay."

Hulk stopped, and tipped his his head at Peter.

Peter smiled, and patted the henchwoman on the head. "Ms. Kelly is nice. She got me out of the cell when you guys showed up because she knew the bad guys would try to use me as a hostage, and then she led me through some underground tunnels out here. Before that, she snuck me some extra food and chocolate pudding. And now she's going to drop her gun, because bullets don't do anything to you except piss you off."

The woman glared at Peter. It wasn't anything menacing, like Tony would expect form a bad guy. Mostly annoyed. She slowly put her rifle on the ground and held up her hands.

Hulk growled at her, but lifted a hand and patted her on the head with a meaty finger, mimicking Peter's petting. She winced in pain, but didn't protest.

Peter turned to Ms. Kelly with a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that. You're still probably going to be arrested, but since you helped me out and if you give up some info, they can probably cut you a deal."

"Keep Black Widow away from me and I'll tell your Avengers everything I know," she said.

Tony chose that moment to intervene. Hulk was still staring at the two and it was making him twitchy. "Then congratulations. You get to spend time with the shiniest, handsomest Avenger. Come on."

She didn't resist as Tony put a hand on her arm and led her away, looking at Peter to follow him. Peter did, after reaching up and taking one of Hulk's fingers and pulling him along. "What do you think, buddy?" Peter asked, nonchalant and casual. Like he wasn't leading a behemoth by the finger like a lost puppy. "I could do with some Spongebob, or maybe Dora, just to piss off Clint. Or maybe we could try to get Aunt Nat to sing a Russian lullaby. She refuses to do karaoke, which means she either sounds god-awful or really good. My money's on good, because every time someone says Nat can't do something, they're proven wrong in a horrible, horrible way."

Hulk's finger slipped from Peter's hand. He took two steps back, and began shrinking.

"Captain, we're de-hulking over here," Tony reported.

"I got it," Nat said, coming out of nowhere.

Ms. Kelly jumped, and didn't relax even when Nat walked right by her to Bruce. Tony grinned behind his mask and pulled her away, knowing Peter and Bruce were in good hands.

--

SHIELD gave Eliza Kelly, two-year Hydra soldier, a slap on the wrist: she would work for SHIELD for four years. Primarily by going back to Hydra and spying. Apparently, she hadn't helped Peter entirely out of self-preservation, or because she had a soft spot for kids. She had a niece who lived in Seattle, which had been attacked by robots a little while ago. Tony barely remembered the mission. But the girl had been in a collapsing building and only survived because Iron Man had punched through the concrete and gotten her out. The Avengers had saved her twelve-year-old niece, and to her it was just so wrong to deprive them of their kid.

Peter himself was fine. The bruises he'd gotten from the kidnapping had healed by the time the Avengers showed up. Other than the initial fight, Hydra hadn't touched him. And that was the only reason Tony and the others were letting any of them come out of this alive.

"So, Natasha managed to calm the Hulk down?" Bruce echoed.

Tony, Nat, and Peter all looked completely innocent as they said yes, she'd done some empathy spy-trick thing called a lullaby that, once the fighting was over, calmed Hulk down. Hulk hadn't so much as looked at Peter when he found him. Peter stayed out of sight and was perfectly safe.

If they told Bruce the truth, he'd freak out. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The Avengers were at the tower all of thirty minutes before they had visitors. Well, they always had visitors. And with this recent kidnapping there was a mob of reporters and supporters right outside, the latter of which had burst out cheering when Peter had returned in one piece, making the teenager turn bright red. "I'm not even an Avenger," he muttered. "How do I have any fans?"

"You're cute and adorable," Clint deadpanned.

Anyway, half an hour after they returned, they had visitors who were permitted into the Tower even after business hours. Three of them.

"You jerk!" Gwen shouted, marching into the living room with MJ and Harry in tow. Peter barely had time to squeak out a "Guys?" before she squeezed him in a hug that put Thor to shame. "We were so worried! We thought you'd get hurt from the car accident or Hydra or by doing something stupid like trying to escape..."

"Well, technically, I did escape rather than be rescued," Peter said, managing to untangle himself from Gwen so he could breathe. All the other Avengers were in the living room, minus Sam, who went back home after giving Peter a hug and telling him to stay out of trouble. Tony watched from the couch with a genuine smile as the tension left Harry's shoulders and MJ stopped looking frazzled.

"Wait, what?" MJ asked. "Did you turn superhero?"

"No, I just talked one of the guards into helping me sneak out. There were tunnels. And she didn't want to be crushed by the Avengers, so..." He shrugged.

Harry's mouth twitched. "So, you seduced an enemy guard into smuggling you out?"

"Oh my God, Harry," MJ groaned.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry. I seduced a thirty-six-year-old woman with a twelve-year-old niece. It's a new superpower."

"Hey, you managed to get all of the Avengers to adopt you when you were eight, so it wouldn't surprise me," Harry countered.

"We're not that big of a pushover," Clint protested.

"Uh-huh."

"We were about to go to bed," Steve said between yawns. "I'm sure you three have parents who are thinking the same thing."

"Not really," Harry said with a shrug. Tony frowned, and wondered if Mr. Osborn was just a casual parent with a loose curfew or was as shitty a father as Howard had been.

"Yeah, Dad's waiting for us downstairs," Gwen said regretfully. "But I can probably stay home from school tomorrow for...I don't know. Emotional reasons?"

"That's what I'm doing," Peter said. "Otherwise one of my teachers will mysteriously fall ill and Natasha will be the substitute, and Clint would probably go in as the janitor, and Steve would call every hour, and Tony would hack the cameras, and Thor just wouldn't leave..."

"Of course not! We must keep you safe from all foes until we can find a new suitable guard," Thor declared, as Natasha said, "Please, I'd be the principal's new assistant, not some substitute teacher. Easy access to the school cameras."

"Oh, great!" Harry said with a grin, turning to Gwen and Peter. "You two can go on a heavily-supervised date."

Gwen turned red while Peter sputtered. "Not cool, man!" And he shoved Harry's shoulder.

Ordinarily, Harry would just rock back on his heels and laugh. It'd happened more times than Tony could count. But this time, Harry went flying, stopping only when he hit the wall ten feet away.

Everyone stared at Peter. Peter stared at Harry, and his own outstretched hand. "Uh...oops?"

Chapter Text

"I don't know about this, Tony," Peter said, eyeing the scepter. "Tech and magic don't mix."

"Tell that to Jane Foster," Tony scoffed. He grasped the fourteen-year-old's shoulder. "It's completely fine. Ultron's gonna be your new babysitter."

"Then who'll babysit you?" Peter deadpanned.

"Probably me," Bruce sighed.

"Don't knock JARVIS," Tony defended. "He was babysitting me before Peter was even born."

"I'll accept any help that is offered, sir," JARVIS said.

Peter chuckled. Bruce shook his head. "I still say this is impossible."

"Since when has that stopped us?" Tony challenged.

They were in his lab, putting the final touches on Ultron from the scepter they'd finally retrieved. The party upstairs was going to start in about half and hour, and all three of them really needed a shower.

Tony smiled at Peter, who was still considering the scepter. All of his high school classes were advanced courses, especially science. The Avengers were so proud of his academic achievements, though most were better at hiding it from others. Steve outright bragged about it to anyone who would listen. Dr. Doom had to admit it was impressive.

These days, Peter was spending a lot more time in the labs with Bruce and Tony, usually with his textbook so they could make the theoretical experiments on the page come to life. It had resulted in a couple of explosions, making Peter giggle with red cheeks. In the last few months, he'd even helped them with Ultron, even though he agreed with Bruce that it was impossible. Tony suspected that the experiments were less about getting a better understanding of his homework--because seriously, what teenager deliberately tries to do that?--and more about just spending time with his science uncles.

"Sir, Captain Rogers asked me to remind you that you need to be presentable in twenty minutes," JARVIS said.

Peter groaned. "That means a suit, doesn't it?"

"You invited Harry, didn't you?" Bruce asked, taking Peter's shoulder and steering him out of the lab while Tony shut everything down. "You can be miserable together."

--

The party was actually kind of fun. Tony didn't want to get smashed and jump out the window within the first hour. Maybe it was because they were all still riding the high of a successful mission. Or maybe it was because the entire rest of the team was here with him, and while that meant arguing with Thor over whether Jane or Pepper was more impressive in her accomplishments (Jane was fine and all, but Pepper was a goddess in heels), it also made Tony feel more at home in his home.

"Hey, man," Rhodey said, joining Tony at the bar. "How's Peter doing?"

Tony turned his head. Peter was across the room, and looked rather impressive for a teenager in a dark blue suit and a shockingly unconventional red shirt, the top button undone because he hated ties with a passion. He was explaining something to a snickering Harry and a couple of other people--adults, actually, who were just as absorbed in the story as Harry--gesturing with his hands something that looked suspiciously like an explosion.

It wasn't a mask, or a shield. It wasn't arrogance that he had tricked everyone into believing was confidence. Peter was happy. Genuinely happy. And secure, and healthy. It was hard to believe that Tony had ever opposed Steve and the Avengers permanently taking him in. Not when he'd adopted their brand of crazy and turned it into something...well, beautiful.

"He's driving me up a wall," Tony said, sipping his whiskey. It was his first and last drink of the evening. He never went beyond tipsy when Peter was around. "He'll be going to college in four years. Steve's going to have a stroke when he sees how much tuition costs, so I'm looking forward to that."

Rhodey smiled, seeing straight through Tony's bullshit. Then he suddenly turned serious. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. When Hydra showed up."

Tony winced. None of the Avengers really talked about Hydra, even though Steve was still keeping his eyes peeled for Barnes. Steve had made the executive "I'm your legal father, deal with it" decision to have Peter see a therapist, because this was the second time he'd gone through a kidnapping, and Peter could barely sleep a wink the first month for the nightmares. Plus having superhero parents/aunts/uncles could not be good for the kid's blood pressure, no matter how obvious it was that he loved them.

"You were getting shot at on the other side of the world," Tony dismissed. "As far as excuses go, that's not a bad one. Besides, Falcon showed up to cover for you. And Gwen roped the entire NYPD into scouring the streets and made Fury accept it. She's going to be a supervillain someday."

"Or a Pepper," Rhodey said. "She here?"

Tony shook his head. "Nah, the Osborn kid's the only one who was able to come." He stole another look at the teens, who had moved on to a conversation with Thor. He looked extremely bemused, which meant they were trying to talk him into giving them a bit of mead. Unfortunately for them, even Asguard had laws against underage drinking. "The girls'll probably swing by sometime this week."

As the night drew on, the guests began trickling out. Tony was surprised to see Harry being one of the first to go.

"You're sure you can't stay?" Peter asked as Harry put his coat on. Tony wasn't looking at them, having a moment to himself, but could hear every word. "Your dad usually doesn't care when you get home, so long as you're sober."

"Yeah, well. He and I've been...working on something," Harry mumbled.

"Working on something like a bomb, working on something like a birthday party...help me out here."

"It's disturbing that you put bomb and birthday in the same sentence." Harry nudged Peter's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, man."

There was a pause. Then Peter said, very quietly, "You know you can talk to me if there's something going on, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"...okay. Good night."

"'Night."

Tony waited until Harry was in the elevator before turning to Peter. "Everything okay?"

Peter shrugged. "I think Harry's going through some issues. He's not talking, though."

"Eh. I wouldn't worry about it. You teenagers are a mopey bunch."

Peter rolled his eyes and rejoined the party.

--

"You've had a bit to drink, so don't be embarrassed if you can't get it up," Tony quipped as Clint walked around the couch to the hammer on the coffee table.

All the guests were gone, except for Rhodey, who didn't really count as a guest since he had his own suite in the Tower. Now it was only the Avengers and Peter enjoying the late night to themselves. Peter would usually be in bed by now, but it was a weekend, so nobody cared.

"Yeah, yeah," Clint said, wrapping his fingers around the handle. He frowned when it wouldn't budge.

Tony tried to lift it next, positive the archer was just fooling around, and glared when it didn't move. It had to be a strength thing (just look at Thor's muscles), so he grabbed an Iron Man gauntlet. Then Rhodey got a gauntlet and they both tried to lift it, but it was glued to the table. Bruce tried and made a bad Hulk joke when he failed, poor little science bro. Even Peter took a stab at it. Tony figured with the kid's expanding super-strength he'd have no trouble. Spiders could lift three hundred times their weight and so, apparently, could Peter now that he was in puberty. It still wouldn't budge. He even put his feet on the tabletop, making Steve's face twist with worry, and collapsed in a heap on the floor when it wouldn't move.

He was on his feet the next second, before anyone could react. "I'm okay," he said, plopping down next to Steve. "You're turn for humiliation, Cap'n."

Steve rolled his eyes, but took his turn.

"Oh, I think it moved!" Peter cried, getting to his knees and taking a closer look at the hammer.

Clint snorted. "Yeah, right. You just want to make Steve look good because he's your favorite."

"First of all, Tony's my favorite. Second of all, it definitely moved."

"Well, it's not moving now," Steve said, biceps straining as he pulled.

"So it's got a fingerprint imprint or something," Tony said as Steve sat back down.

"Perhaps," Thor said, standing. "Or..." He easily lifted the hammer from the table. "None of you are worthy."

"Of course none of you are worthy."

That mechanical voice made everyone freeze and sent shivers down Tony's spine. They all turned to the walking--barely--Iron Man suit in the doorway.

And it went south from there.

--

Steve saw one of the robots grab the scepter and fly out the window. He gritted his teeth and tore apart the one sputtering in his hands. The living room was getting trashed, with all the Avengers caught unprepared, unarmed and unarmored. Sure, Natasha had a couple of pistols lying around, but there was only so much they could do.

"Barton, look out!" Rhodes called.

One of the flying bots was gunning for Clint, who couldn't get out of the way in time.

A web shot out, attached to the bot, and was yanked back when it was inches from Clint's startled face.

Steve's stomach dropped out. He ran forward to help Peter, and then get him somewhere safe because Jesus, he should not be in the middle of this. Peter saw him coming, ran towards him, and before Steve could figure out what exactly he was doing, he jumped off of Steve's shoulder, straight up to the webbed bot. He drove his fist clean through the bot's chest and twisted as they fell. He landed on his feet and tore the robot's head off like it was tissue paper.

Steve blinked. The rest of the fighting had died down, Thor shattering the last one with his hammer. Bruce crawled out from under the cover of the bar and got to his feet. "Everyone okay?"

"All my booze is wasted, but otherwise I'm fine," Tony said. He blinked at Peter, as if realizing that he hadn't run and taken cover like he should've. His eyes went from the boy to the destroyed, web-covered robot. "Peter, you okay?"

Peter checked his red knuckles, completely nonplussed. "Yeah, I'm good."

--

They were all in the lab, glaring at each other as Bruce and Tony explained that it was their creation that had just attacked them and run off with the scepter. Peter was looking at his shoes, face bright red because he'd helped them. Steve wasn't blaming him, but they were going to have words about helping mad scientists with their crazy schemes, whether they were uncles or not.

Then Thor stormed in, grabbed Tony by the throat, and shoved him against the wall. "This is your doing!" he snapped. "None of this would've happened if you hadn't meddled with forces you didn't understand!"

"Thor, let him go," Steve ordered, his shock reflected in everyone else's faces. They hadn't tried to tear into each other since the Chitauri, and even with the scepter manipulating them and not knowing or trusting each other, they had never physically tried to hurt each other.

Thor didn't listen. He was glaring into Tony's wide eyes. "That scepter was the last link I had with my brother, and it's gone because of your arrogance!"

Peter marched up to Thor, grabbed his wrist and Tony's chest, and pulled hard enough that Tony's neck slipped from Thor's fingers. "That's enough! You've made your point. Now stop strangling Uncle Tony and use your words like an adult!"

They all stared at Peter. It was, in part, because he'd put himself deliberately between a wrathful god of thunder and Iron Man. Even Steve hadn't wanted to do that unless absolutely necessary. But mostly it was because Peter wasn't just angry. They could handle angry.

He was scared.

He'd been attacked in his own home by killer robots that he'd helped create and had taken one of them down on his own without batting an eye, and he was scared of his Uncle Thor.

Thor's hand went limp and he immediately stepped back. Peter let him go. Tony coughed and focused on breathing. Thor lowered his head. "Apologies, friend Stark," he muttered.

"'S all good," Tony wheezed. "Totally deserved that."

Some of the tension leaked out of the room. Even more left when Bruce said, "He said he'd killed someone. Was there anyone else in the building?"

They all shook their heads. "Maybe he was lying?" Clint suggested.

"No," Tony said, suddenly grim. He took one of the clear tablets and flicked his wrist. A holograph of a shattered golden globe appeared before them.

"JARVIS?" Peter asked in a broken voice. It cut straight through Steve, and it was clearly affecting Tony on a personal level, too. JARVIS had been more than just a "first line of defense," more than a robot. He'd been their friend. He'd been another one of Peter's uncles in all but name.

They were going to destroy Ultron for this.

--

"I don't see why I can't stay at the Tower," Peter protested. "He's not coming back there."

"It's still not secure," Steve said, his arm around Peter's shoulders as they walked up to the suburban house. Sam Wilson stood on the porch with a grim smile. "And even if Ultron doesn't come back, he's not the only bad guy out there."

Peter deflated. "Yeah, I guess. But what about Harry? Or Gwen or MJ?"

"First off, no parent of a teenage girl is going to let a teenage boy spend however many nights in their house," Steve said. "Second, Sam has the training and equipment to handle an Avenger-level threat."

"I also make the best pancakes on the East Coast," Sam added. He clasped his hand on Peter's shoulder, his face softening. "I know it's not an ideal situation. But if I've learned anything from the Avengers it's that they're the most stubborn jackasses on the planet and will have this wrapped up quick."

"They'd better," Peter grumbled.

Sam took Peter's duffel back and went inside. Peter stayed on the porch with Steve, looking down. "Bring back a souvenir from Wakanda?" he asked.

Steve smiled and kissed Peter's forehead, not caring that it made the teenager go red. "Sure thing."

--

Steve didn't get a chance to go souvenir-shopping. None of them did.

--

Bruce's head was screwed on backwards. First Ultron. Then...then Wakanda. And now Clint had a wife and 2.5 kids?

And he hadn't said a word! They'd all been collectively raising Peter and he hadn't mentioned that he was actually a father with his own biological children to raise. The fact that Bruce was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall in this house with a white picket fence was just surreal.

Bruce's cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and stared at the caller ID for a long time. It went to voicemail. Then started ringing again.

He sighed, because he knew Peter wouldn't stop calling until he picked up. He answered. "Hey."

"Are you okay?" Peter demanded.

Bruce gave a wane smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you with the other Avengers?"

"Yeah. We're bunkered down for the night. Everyone's fine, just need a good night's sleep."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Now, tell me the truth: are you okay?"

Bruce grimaced. "You're more stubborn than Steve."

"That's why he adopted me. Uncle Bruce...you know it wasn't your fault, right?"

Bruce snorted. "Someone has to take responsibility for that mess."

"Then it might as well be that jerk that mind-controlled you. Steve said you ran into some kind of telepath that dropped him, Nat, and even Thor. Thor!"

"They didn't destroy a city," Bruce pointed out.

"So?"

Bruce sighed. "Look, Peter, I know you're trying to help, but I..." He couldn't go back. That was abundantly clear. If he lost control again when Peter was around, he'd eat every bullet on the planet until he found one that killed him.

"Bruce...you know Hulk's not evil, right? He's not even that mean."

He snorted. "Oh, you think so?"

"I know it," Peter said. He had so much conviction in his voice that Bruce almost believed him. "Look, I know nothing I say is going to convince you. So go ask Tony for the Iron Man footage from the time I got kidnapped from Hydra. Near the end, when you guys found me."

Bruce gave the phone a weird look. "What?"

"Just do it. Please? Don't do something stupid, Uncle Bruce."

He closed his eyes. "Sleep tight, Peter," he said, before he hung up.

--
--

"Let me get this straight," Peter said.

They were all back at the Tower, in one of the lesser-used floors because the one above was still trashed. Peter had given them back-breaking hugs the second he saw them, and now they were sitting or standing in the living room, having just gone over what happened.

Steve expected him to turn an accusing finger at Wanda, who was looking at the ground and wringing her hands. Or maybe he'd ask about Vision, the silent sentinel with JARVIS's voice. Or clarify that Ultron was, indeed, dead.

Peter turned to Clint. "You're a dad?"

...figured he'd latch onto that.

Clint sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Really? That's your question?"

"Yeah, that's my question!" Peter snapped. "That's the only thing that doesn't make sense!"

"The only thing, huh?" Natasha asked, amused.

"Sure. Killer robot destroyed, got that. Wanda and her weird-but-cool powers, got that. Welcome to New York, by the way," he said, voice completely free of anger or accusation. Even when the next thing he said was, "Bruce being an idiot and running away? I understand that, too. I'm gonna punch him for it, but I understand it. And Vision over there is the grown-up JARVIS baby of Tony, Bruce and Thor. Sure."

Wanda snorted at the description. Vision merely raised an eyebrow.

"What I don't get," Peter said, "is that you are married--married!--and have two kids..."

"Three next month," Clint said with a grin.

Peter threw his hands up in the air. "And you didn't tell us!"

"I told Natasha."

"She doesn't count. She knows everything."

"I, too, am curious as to why you kept this from us," Thor said. He was in his human clothes, which looked strange as he swung his hammer to and fro. "We didn't keep Peter a secret."

"We couldn't," Clint pointed out.

Everyone gave him a look.

Clint sighed and rubbed his face. "Look, I'm sorry about that. I married Laura two months before we found Peter and at the time, it was a need-to-know basis. As in, me, Nat, and Fury. I needed to keep Hawkeye as separate from her and the kids as possible. Laura got pregnant right around the time Steve adopted you, and I considered telling you guys, I did. But I just..." He shrugged. "I don't know. I needed something that was mine."

And geez, what could anyone say to that?

After a pause, Peter spoke again: "So the reason you act like a kid in the tower is because you have to be the mature adult back home?"

Clint grinned. "What makes you think I act any better back home?"

"Oh, your poor wife..."

Everyone relaxed as the tension broke. Steve stood and clapped his hands. "All right, we've all had a long day and we have a longer one tomorrow. Let's get some sleep. Wanda, Vision, I'm sure we can find some rooms for you."

The two nodded. Everyone trickled out of the room, Clint with a, "No, Peter, you're not babysitting my kids. I don't need you corrupting them," to which Peter pouted.

Steve stayed because Peter stayed, sitting on the edge of the couch. When everyone else was gone, all notes of cheer and snark and humor washed away, leaving an exhausted, grieving teenager.

Steve sat next to him and rubbed his back. Peter's eyes were wet. "I told him not to do anything stupid," he said.

Steve hugged him, mentally cursing Bruce for doing this to his son even though he understood exactly why he did it. Peter didn't even protest, just slumped into Steve. "He'll be back," Steve promised. "He'll be back."

Chapter Text

When Peter became a hero, none of the Avengers were around to see it, or to help until the very end. Steve's still pissed about that.

--

"Tony, did you do this?" Peter demanded, holding up his phone.

They were all in the new Avengers facility, watching the construction crew put the finishing touches on the place. The lawn outside was emblazoned with the Asguardian symbols for the tunnel that had whisked Thor away on his search for the World Stones. He'd made sure to give Peter a hug good-bye, and promised to be back for his sixteenth birthday. Apparently, that was the threshold for adulthood on Asguard, and the fact that Peter would technically be an adult--at least in some Realms--in only eight months was something he never grew tired of reminding them.

They were eating lunch in the cafeteria, which was empty except for them. Wanda and Vision were talking quietly, the two bonding over being the newest members. Steve found himself rooting for them; they made a cute couple. Clint was on family leave with the birth of Nathaniel. Natasha had been teasing Steve and Tony had been on his tablet. Tony set the tablet aside and glanced at the phone. "Do what?"

Peter glared at him. "You know I applied to Oscorp as a joke, right?"

Natasha snatched the phone and skimmed over it, her eyebrows climbing. "'Dear Mr. Parker, We're glad to receive your application for our internship program. We'd like you to come in for an interview. What time works best for you?' What's the program?"

"Wait, what?" Steve perked up. Nat tossed him from the phone before Peter could reclaim it so he could read the email himself. He was grinning by the end. "Peter, this is incredible!"

"I'm not gonna get it," Peter grumbled, finally getting his hands back on the phone. "I'm only in high school."

"So?" Tony asked, his mouth full of PB&J sandwich. "I was working engineering internships when I was younger than you."

"Well, you're you. Genius IQ and Stark and all. You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

"Nope."

"Uncle Tony, I swear to God..."

Tony raised his right hand. "Cross my heart! I didn't say a word! I don't even know anyone at Oscorp. They're pharmaceuticals, not mechanics."

"You're going to help make medicine?" Steve asked.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Not exactly. They're trying to develop a limb-regenerating formula from lizard DNA...you know how some species can regrow tails after they lose them, or how starfish can regrow arms? They're trying to find a way for humans to do that. I met Dr. Connors at a science thing a while ago, I think Tony was there, and he lost his right arm and has been trying to do this for veterans for, like, years."

"You're going in for the interview, right?" Natasha asked, in a way that was a lot less asking and a lot more ordering.

"I'm not going to get it," he stressed again. "As soon as they hear that I'm not in college, I'm out the door. But I might as well give it a shot."

--

Nobody was really surprised when Peter landed the internship, except for Peter. Steve asked Tony, privately, if he really did use his influence on Oscorp. Tony shook his head. "Seriously, Cap. I didn't do jack shit."

Steve didn't have much time on his hands to really hear about the internship, though. Peter stayed at Avengers Tower while he and Natasha went to the facility and helped train the new recruits: Wanda, Vision, Rhodes, and Sam. He regretted the time apart from his family, but they Skyped at least once a week, Peter gushing about all the amazing things he was learning at the Oscorp lab.

Until one day they logged on and Peter wasn't smiling. "Dr. Connors' boss is a jerk," he said.

"Oh, yeah?" Steve asked, rolling back his shoulders. Sparring with War Machine was not fun. "How so?"

"She's pushing him to do human trials way too early. You'd think she'd know better, being a doctor and all. She says if Connors doesn't hurry it up she'll fire him."

Steve hummed. "Can she do that?"

"Yup." Peter hesitated. "Do you think if that happens I could talk Tony into funding Connors' research? I know it's not really his area, but..."

"I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help." At least, Steve was pretty sure. He hadn't really talked to Tony that much in the last few weeks. Everyone had been so busy, but it felt like Tony was actively trying to avoid everyone. "How is he, anyway?"

Peter shrugged. "I think he still feels guilty. About Ultron. He's been talking about how there should be some sort of system to keep heroes in check and--" His phone beeped. Peter looked at it and brightened. "Oh, yeah, I'm meeting Gwen for a movie."

"Is this a movie or a movie?" Steve teased.

Peter rolled his eyes. "We're just friends, Steve."

"You spend an awful lot of time together."

"She's not the one. Bye!"

Steve chuckled after Peter hung up, but his smile quickly faded. "Keep heroes in check"? That didn't sound too good. He needed to meet with Tony and ask him what he meant by that. And maybe...maybe tell him about Bucky...

No. Tony didn't need to hear that. It wouldn't do any good.

With that decided, Steve stood, wincing as his sore muscles protested. Shower, then dinner, and then he'd handle this in the morning.

--

Steve's hair was still wet as he headed for the cafeteria for food. He paused on his way through the living area, where people were sitting on couches and eating and chatting. "Clint! What are you doing here?"

Clint looked up from his conversation with Natasha and smiled. "Hey, Cap. Just visiting."

"How're the kids?"

"Screaming and growing like weeds. How's yours?"

"Spewing science I don't even understand. Want something to drink?"

"Sure."

Steve went to get his food and a soda for Clint. He balanced a towering plate of pasta and salad on one hand and two drinks in the other and headed back. Clint took his drink with a distracted "Thanks." Just as Steve was starting to sit down, the news that nobody was watching caught his eye.

The caption read "Avengers' Spider-Kid Fights Giant Lizard On Bridge."

Numb, Steve set his plate down and turned up the television.

"...massive lizard ran onto the bridge on a rampage," the reporter was saying. "It seemed to be chasing a man, a Dr. Rajit Ratha, and began throwing cars off of the bridge in its haste, some of them with people still in inside. Lucky for them, the Avengers' adopted child Peter Parker was at the scene."

All conversation in the room went quiet. Cell phone footage was played, the camera jerking in the owner's panic at seeing a massive, bipedal lizard chase a screaming man onto the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Jesus, what is that?" Sam demanded. Wanda put a hand over her mouth as the lizard, frustrated with the obstacles in its path, grabbed a car and chucked it over the side of the bridge, oblivious to the screaming driver inside.

A web shot from off-screen grabbed the car. The camera caught Peter just as he was hooking it up to the bridge, leaving the car dangling off the side, but safe. Gwen Stacy was with him on the walkway, looking pale as she grabbed Peter and yanked. They narrowly avoided getting smashed by a second thrown car, which got the same webbing treatment as the first.

As if they'd been doing this all their live, the two split. Gwen shouted and hollered, ordering everyone off of the bridge, keeping everyone as organized as a fifteen-year-old could manage. Peter followed the lizard, catching every car that went over until the monster's path was clear and it started running. The man it had been chasing was out of sight. Peter started going after it, making Steve's breath catch, because while he might've been the only good person in the area with superpowers, he wasn't at all qualified to go into an actual fight with something that wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Peter suddenly froze. There was a man behind him, looking over the edge of the bridge and shouting. The phone couldn't pick up the words, but Steve could guess: he could see the kid in the car that was dangling from one of the webs, and the car was on fire.

"Oh, he's not gonna--" Rhodes said, which morphed into a "Fuck!" when Peter jumped over the bridge.

He shot a web out of his wrist at the bridge and gracefully slid down until he was on top of the car, a mere four feet from the fire consuming the trunk. With an elbow strike he shattered the front window and shouted something to the kid, an encouraging look on his face.

The web holding the car snapped. Peter barely managed to grab the bumper in time, holding his webbing with one hand and the car with the other, face strained in concentration. The kid inside slowly started climbing up the car, from the back seat to the front seat, from the front seat to the...

The bumper snapped off the car.

The move was so fast Steve blinked and missed it. One minute Peter was holding the warped bumper as the car began to fall to the dark waters hundreds of feet below, the next the bumper was gone, a web had shot out, and the kid was dangling from the end of it, safe and unhurt as the car fell below him.

Steve let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. Peter looked as shell-shocked as he felt, but also had a goofy grin on his face as he pulled the kid up and climbed back onto the bridge. The father snatched his son, checking him over for injuries and holding him close the way Steve wished he could do to Peter right then because that had been unbelievably dangerous. Gwen ran up to him, looking worried and relieved. Peter looked back over the edge of the bridge and winced. Neither of them seemed aware of the cell phone that was continuing to record them.

"Do you think their insurance covers mini-Godzilla attacks?" Peter asked.

Gwen shrugged. "My dad's does."

Peter frowned. "Seriously?"

"Uh-huh. It's part of the Avengers package."

"...huh." Peter looked up, at where the Lizard at disappeared. He and Gwen exchanged a look. He sucked in a breath. "You don't think...?"

"Unless you know some other mad scientist who's been messing with lizard DNA?" she challenged. "Which, knowing your life, honestly would not surprise me."

Peter's shoulders hunched. "Nope. No, he's the only one with lizards. All right..." They started to run off. He patted the kid's back as he passed and mustered a smile. "Later, kid!"

The kid waved over his dad's shoulder. "Bye, Spider-Man!"

It flipped back to the reporter, who went on to say how nobody had seen hide nor hair of "Spider-Man" since he left the bridge, and where are the other Avengers anyway...

Steve's phone rang. He answered it. "Tony?"

"Did you just see the news?" he demanded.

"Yeah, is he at the Tower?" Steve asked.

"No. Fuck!" Tony started moving. "Not at the facility?"

"No." Steve turned and headed for his room, which had his uniform and shield. He was peripherally aware of the other Avengers following him, getting ready to suit up. "It looked like they were thinking about Peter's boss, Connors."

"She had a point: there isn't anyone else in the city with that kind of technology who's been interested in lizards. Why the hell are they doing this on their own, I mean--" Tony abruptly stopped.

Steve paused. "Tony?"

"...huh. I take it back. He just texted me."

"Well, what did he say?!" Steve demanded.

"'Need you for emergency science at Oscorp.'"

"Bring the suit," Steve ordered.

"No shit."

--

Tony held the suitcase armor in a sweaty hand as he walked out of the car and hurried to the Oscorp building. Nobody was around, but since it was well after business hours that was probably normal. No need to panic...

When he saw the gaping hole in the glass wall, he activated the suit.

"FRIDAY, get me the security footage. Look for mini-zilla and Peter," he ordered.

"Thirty-seventh floor, boss."

Tony shot into the air just as Peter was thrown out the building.

Before he could catch the teen, Peter shot one of his webs, twisted, and smashed right back in the building through another window. Tony followed him, checking his movements to make sure he wasn't injured.

He was, but not from the fall. The front of his shirt was shredded, as if the lizard had raked his talons across his chest.

Peter didn't seem to notice the wounds or Tony. All of his attention was on the massive lizard in the center of the destroyed lab. Gwen was in the corner, by the computers that, if Tony's scanners were reading correctly (and they always were), was cooking up some sort of antidote.

"Come on, Dr. Connors, this isn't you!" Peter shouted. He dodged a metal beam that the lizard threw at him.

Tony caught it and dropped it on the floor. Everyone's attention turned to him.

The lizard (shit, was that really Connors?) was smart, and started to turn tail and run. Peter grabbed him with his webs and pulled. The lizard roared, rounding on him. Tony charged forward and pinned the lizard to the ground. It bucked and tried to roll. Tony gritted his teeth and held on. He'd dealt with aliens, robots and super-soldiers in the sparring ring. He could handle a pint-sized dinosaur.

"Got it!" Gwen shouted, snatching a blue-filled canister from the machine. She tossed it to Peter, who dove into the mess and jammed it into the lizard.

It howled, its voice morphing from monstrous to human. The scales shed away. The right arm came off entirely. His body shrunk and...yeah, that was definitely Dr. Connors.

Tony kept him on the floor and looked up. "Peter, you okay?"

Peter nodded, wincing as he picked at his shirt. "Aw, man. I just got this..."

--

Police and ambulance rushed over at Tony's request, quickly followed by the rest of the Avengers. Peter protested all the medical treatment that went beyond cleaning and bandaging his wounds, three nasty gashes across his chest that were already starting to heal, thanks to his powers.

"See if I ever get another part-time job," he grumbled when the EMTs finally let him go. They'd trashed his shirt, though. Luckily, it was a warm enough day that nobody minded the topless teen.

"Job?" Tony teased. He was out of the suit, the suitcase at his feet while he put an arm around Peter's shoulders. "You weren't even paid."

"Peter!"

Tony stepped aside and let Steve hug the kid, then look him over. "Are you okay? We saw what happened on the bridge and Tony said you got in a fight and..."

"Wait, the bridge?" Peter asked. "How'd you see that?"

Clint barked a laugh. He and a few of the other Avengers were there, but most of them hung back. "It's all over the news. Everyone's calling you Spider-Man."

Peter groaned and dropped his face in his hands. "It was only a lizard and a few cars. Not that big of a deal."

"Not that--" Steve sputtered.

"It's baby's first supervillain," Clint agreed. "That's absolutely a big deal."

Peter turned red. "I'm not a baby!"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm not!" He looked over his shoulder. "Gwen! Clint's calling me a baby!"

"That's very nice, Peter," came the distracted reply.

Tony winced. He'd been so focused on Peter that he'd completely forgotten about Gwen, who had no powers, had no prior traumatic experiences like kidnapping to prepare her, and was probably more freaked out than any of them.

Except she wasn't. When he turned around to look, Tony saw her engaged in animated conversation with Wanda of all people.

"That can only be trouble," he said. Clint hummed in agreement.

Steve sighed, tightening his grip on Peter. "Let's go home. Tony, you've got room in that tower?"

Tony scoffed. "Of course."

"Right." Steve hesitated. "Listen, the team and I have a mission in Lagos this week. But after...we should get together."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Are you propositioning me, Cap?"

Steve gave him a look.

Tony waved it away. "All right, all right. We'll chat after you get back from Nigeria. Try not to blow anything up."

--

Really, Tony should've just kept his mouth shut instead of jinxing them.

Chapter Text

Steve didn't know how it had all gone south so fast. They were supposed to be a team. Hell, words like "family" had been rattling around in his brain for years. But then the Accords were pushed on them, and Wanda was put under house arrest, and half the team--led by one of his best friends--were essentially trying to convince the others to sign away their freedom. And they were using Bucky as blackmail, threatening to take him to a Wakandan prison if Steve didn't cooperate. He'd be killed there, Steve just knew it. Drastic action was needed, which was why Steve called Clint to get Wanda. Hawkeye didn't need much persuasion.

Now came the harder part.

After walking away from Tony's attempt at a compromise, Steve made a bee-line to the cafeteria downstairs. Sitting by himself, typing on a phone with one hand and chowing down a sandwich with the other, was Peter. Next month he'd turn sixteen, and the month after that was his driving test. Tony wanted to get him a car. Steve had talked him out of it, to at least wait until he was a legal adult.

Peter looked up. Whatever he saw in Steve's face made him drop the sandwich, shove the phone in his pocket, and stand up. "What's wrong? What's going to happen to Bucky?"

Steve shook his head. He couldn't help but think that it was a shame Peter and Bucky hadn't met yet. The two would get along like a house on fire. "They're going to put him in a prison in Wakanda."

Peter's face fell. "Aw, man. Steve, I'm sorry...maybe Tony can talk them out of it?"

Steve snorted. "He tried. For Bucky and Wanda. Neither of them will be released unless we sign the Accords."

"Wait, Wanda?"

"She's not a citizen and they won't give her a visa, so they put her under house arrest," Steve gritted out. "She's just a kid."

Peter tried not to look guilty. "Wait, she's too young to be arrested, but not too young to be an Avenger?"

Steve blinked. Then glared. Peter looked down and shifted his feet. "Just..."

Steve softened. Something was eating at the boy, something he hadn't had a chance to say in the craziness of the last few days. "Peter?"

The teen took a deep breath, looked Steve straight in the eye, and blurted, "IthinkyoushouldsigntheAccords."

For a moment, Steve just stood there, staring. "What?"

Peter rubbing his face, trying to find the words. He took another deep breath, but this time it wasn't word vomit. "You once told me that with great power comes great responsibility. That doesn't just mean going against the monster of the week. That means being held accountable for our actions when we screw up, and making sure we're not making a situation worse by trying to fix it. Now I'm not saying it's perfect," he quickly added. "It has some problems and should allow for a faster response from the Avengers, that I get. But it's a good start."

Steve could not believe his ears. How the hell had this happened? "There's a fine line between being held accountable and giving someone a chain."

Peter looked even more uncomfortable, but he said anyway, "Would Ultron have happened if the Avengers had been on a leash?"

There was no answer to that, so Steve didn't give any. Instead, he switched topics, to what was most important: "If Bucky ends up in Wakanda, they're going to kill him."

If he was annoyed by the sudden change in topic, Peter didn't show it. He went with it. "The crime happened in Vienna. Shouldn't he be held there?"

"Try telling that to a grieving king." Steve hesitated. "Look, I may have to--"

An alarm went off. Someone shouted something about the Winter Soldier. Steve's blood turned to ice. Immediately he switched from Uncle Steve to Captain America. "Get out."

Peter didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted out of the cafeteria.

Steve rolled his shoulders and got ready to fight his best friend. Again.

--

Bucky was still unconscious when Steve's phone rang. It was Peter.

Sam saw his face and grimaced. "Look, Steve, nobody's going to blame you for backing out now. Bucky sure won't, not if he's your friend. You have a son."

Steve swallowed. Bucky would understand. And Bucky would die for it. If he gave in now...

How many people would die when the next villain came along and the Avengers were forced to twiddle their thumbs while a bunch of politicians argued over whether or not to let them fight? Just look at history, all the genocides that had been allowed to happen because the international community refused to get involved. Or worse, decided to help the abuser?

How many Avengers would end up arrested or worse because of the people's fear of mutants? Because that's what was really driving this: fear. Prejudice. Entire armies could barge into other countries for reasons a lot less palpable than disaster relief, but a handful of superheroes needed to go through 117 countries? He couldn't lead the Avengers down that path. And he couldn't let Peter, the boy he had adopted for this exact reason, live in a world dominated by fear and hate. Not while Steve was still breathing.

He turned off his phone.

--

Steve looked across the tarmac and wanted to scream and cry. He did neither.

At his side were Bucky (always Bucky), Sam, Wanda, Clint, and Scott Lang. Before them were War Machine (Colonel Rhodes, he'd always respected that man), Black Panther (he understood that rage, that desire for revenge, he really did), Vision (he should've been dating Wanda), Black Widow ("Did I make you uncomfortable?"), and Iron Man ("Together").

These were his friends.

These were his enemies.

Steve pushed his regret and grief into a little ball and packed it away, as deep as he could bury it. Then he started marching, his team at his back. Iron Man's team stepped forward to meet them.

"Uh, guys, they're not slowing down," Scott said nervously.

"Yeah, well neither are we," Clint replied grimly.

They were about twenty feet apart when the roar of a plane's jet passed overhead, dangerously low to the ground, making them all stop.

"Ah, fuck," Tony growled behind the mask. "Civilians."

"Isn't that an SI plane?" Rhodes asked.

Steve looked up and saw the Stark Industries logo. Rage bubbled in his veins. "Stark..."

"I don't know!" Tony snapped. "I didn't order it."

"Then who did?" Clint demanded.

Thwit! Thwit! Thwit! Thwit!

"--the hell?!" Bucky shouted.

Thwit! Thwit! Thwit! Thwit! Thwit!

Steve almost fell flat on his face when he tried to move and his feet wouldn't budge. They were glued to the pavement. Everyone was. Even Iron Man and War Machine. For a moment, everyone was too blindsided to do anything but stare.

Natasha was the first to recover. "Peter Benjamin Parker, get your ass out here right now!" she snapped. It made everyone cringe.

Steve's stomach dropped when he saw Peter standing on one of the jets. Standing with his shoulders slightly hunched, in jeans and a sweater, he had no business being in the middle of an Avenger Civil War.

Clearly he disagreed. There was no fear on his face, no sadness or even nervousness. Just pure frustration. He gave them all a "what the fuck?" look before jumping off of the jet to the ground. Half of the group winced, but he landed on his feet and strode forward without missing a beat. He walked right between the lines. On the other side of the tarmac, the SI plane landed.

War Machine reached down with a whirring repulsor, probably to fry off the webs. Peter flicked his wrist and another web shot out, sticking Rhodes' arm to his leg. "Hey!"

"Stay down," Peter snapped. "Nobody's moving, fighting, or even talking until Pepper gets here to sort this out."

Tony froze. "You brought Pepper?"

Steve cringed. Right, she and Tony were "taking a break."

"Well, who else was I supposed to get? If Fury told you to stop fighting you'd just attack each other faster to piss him off." Peter dropped to a cross-legged position, right in the middle of all of them. "So we are going to sit here and wait."

If any of them tried, they could've easily gotten out of the webs. It would take a little time for most of them, but they could do it. Vision could probably just phase right out of it, and Wanda had her telekinesis. But the fact was, they now had a stubborn sixteen-year-old in the dead center of the battlefield, with more civilians coming in minutes. The possibility of someone getting hurt or dying had just skyrocketed.

King T'Challa pulled off his mask, so they could see how furious he was. "Is this how American children treat their elders?"

"Only when those elders act like infants," Peter said, not even looking at him. "Sorry, who are you?"

He straightened. "King T'Challa of Wakanda."

Peter's tone was completely unimpressed when he said, "Cool." Steve supposed that growing up with the Prince of Asgard and one of the richest men in the modern world was going to set a pretty high standard.

"You'll be arrested for this."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh, arrested? You sure? Or are the police going to have the same 'shoot-to-kill' orders that put us in this mess in the first place?"

It took a lot of willpower, but Steve managed not to smile. If the German authorities hadn't tried to outright kill Bucky without giving him any chance to defend himself, then yeah. Steve would've let it happen because he knew Bucky was innocent.

"He is the Winter Soldier," Scott pointed out. Everyone on Steve's side glared at him. He held up his hands. "Just saying, I can see why they'd shoot first and ask later."

"He deserves worse," T'Challa declared, pointing at Bucky. "That man killed my father."

Peter remained unmoved. "Do you have any proof?"

"Excuse me?"

"Proof," he repeated. "Evidence. Something that'll make me believe you."

"Security footage caught him holding the bomb."

Finally Peter looked at T'Challa, his expression one of completely disbelief. He jerked a thumb at Bucky. "That guy's the Winter Soldier. Everyone thought he was a myth for seventy years because he left no evidence at the scene of the crime. And you think he's dumb enough to get caught on a security camera?"

Nobody said a word. T'Challa's face was blank. Bucky looked downright insulted.

After a beat, Peter rolled his eyes. "And this is why we have that whole judicial process thingy."

"All right, you've made your point," Steve scolded. He wasn't as authoritative and impressive as he normally was, with his feet stuck in webbing. But it was enough to get Peter to stop poking the bear.

"Zemo?" Sam guessed.

"Probably," Steve agreed.

All this time the plane had been creeping closer. Now it stopped, the stairs were pulled out, and Pepper Potts walked onto the tarmac in her heels and pencil skirt. She did not look amused.

"Sorry I'm late," she huffed. She looked down at Peter. "Nobody's dead and nothing's on fire. I'm impressed."

He gave her a tight smile. Pepper looked up. "After some bargaining, I've bought us two hours to sort this out." She pointed to Tony, Steve, and Bucky. "You three, with me."

"We need to go to Siberia," Steve insisted. "Zemo's going to activate five more supersoldiers."

"What?!" Rhodes exclaimed.

"Uh, that would've been nice to know," Tony said.

Pepper tapped her foot. "You three with me. Clint, Natasha, do you mind?"

"Why them?" Wanda asked.

"Because they're both professionals capable of putting aside this mess to reach a common objective."

Clint and Nat exchanged a look. They nodded. Scott raised his hand. "I'll help. Might as well."

Pepper frowned. "Who are you?"

"Ant-Man."

"Who?"

"We want him," Clint insisted. Natasha shrugged her consent.

Pepper sighed. "Fine. Everyone else is staying at this airport, unless you want the entire UN chasing after you."

That left T'Challa, Wanda, Vision, Rhodes and Sam. None of them were exactly friends, but they weren't enemies, either. They should be fine.

Feeling more like a whipped schoolboy than a captain, Steve pulled off the webbing and followed Miss Potts to the plane, with Bucky and, after a tense pause, Tony. Peter got to his feet and sped up until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Pepper. His hands were shaking as he shoved them in his pockets, and Steve wondered--guilt clawing at his stomach--whether him sitting down had truly been defiance or because he hadn't been able to stay standing.

"Thanks for coming," he muttered, low enough that only serum-enhanced ears could pick it up.

"Thanks for calling," she replied.

The plane was one of Tony's private jets, with an obscene amount of luxury. A couch, a bar, massive seats...Bucky shook his head. "This is twice as large as our apartment was." It made Steve smile.

Tony deactivated his suit, stashed it in the corner, and made a bee-line for the bar. Steve and Bucky sat, stiff as boards, on the plush seats. Peter was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. They listened to the sound of another jet taking off, with Clint, Natasha and Scott off to finish Steve's mission.

"Peter's got a point about Barnes and Vienna," Tony said, glass of whiskey in hand as he sat across from the two super-soldiers. "But with that shit-show with the helicopter, nobody's letting you walk free."

"It wasn't his fault," Steve insisted. "Zemo activated him, somehow."

"Well, until we find the how and have that key locked away so it'll never see the light of day, he's too much of a risk," Tony said. "No offense."

"Tony--"

"He's right," Bucky said.

Steve's heart broke. "Buck--"

"No, Steve, I almost killed you. Twice. No, three times. Next time it happens, I might actually end up putting a bomb somewhere."

Pepper spoke, "I'm sure we can negotiate something better than a dank prison cell. House arrest at the Avengers compound might be more appropriate."

"What?" Tony snapped.

Steve jumped on it. "Think about it: we were the only ones able to bring him down. If he's activated at the compound, we'll be right there to stop it."

Bucky didn't look happy, and Steve knew why: it was putting him in the direct path of the Winter Soldier, yet again. Steve didn't care.

Tony huffed and sipped his drink. "Fine. Now, the Accords."

Bucky frowned, like he was missing something. Steve bit back a groan. "I really don't like this being forced on us."

"We can amend it later--"

"How long is that going to take?"

"If we don't show a willingness to play by the rules of the people we're trying to help, why should they trust us?" Tony snapped.

"We weren't assembled to answer every beck and call of the world leaders," Steve argued. "We were assembled to help people. Sometimes, that means breaking the rules."

"There are some rules you just don't break, Rogers. We need to make that clear. If we don't, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Steve," Pepper cut in, before it could escalate. "Would your side agree to go on leave from the Avengers while you worked with Tony and the UN on a revised edition of the Accords?"

He frowned. "What if we're faced with another global threat?"

She raised an eyebrow. "If we were faced with a threat now, you couldn't do anything about it. A) your team's divided, and B) you're fugitives. You are, essentially, indefinitely off of the team already. This at least gets you back on, and keeps SHIELD, the UN, and the police from trying to arrest you."

When Steve didn't say anything, Pepper sighed. "Some version of the Accords is going to happen. The machine is too big to stop now. But it can be tinkered with, and it can be manipulated to change course. This is the best chance you're going to get at securing the freedoms you want."

He didn't want any kind of fetters on the Avengers, period. That was a slippery slope best avoided altogether.

On the other hand, they had been seconds away from tearing each other apart over this. If something didn't bend, it would break.

Steve sighed, and felt like he was the biggest traitor in the world when he said, "Fine."

Peter let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Wanda's to be released," Steve added. "While she's out with the rest of us, she's not under house arrest."

Tony winced. "I think you boxed yourself in with that one, Cap. She was under legal detainment, which you broke her out of."

Steve opened his mouth. Tony cut him off, "But, SI can probably loan her a couple of lawyers. They'll get her as much freedom as possible and go for a green card. It won't happen overnight, but..."

Steve sighed. "Good enough."

Tony smiled and swallowed more of his drink. He motioned to Bucky. "What's with the look, Barnes?"

Steve turned and saw that Bucky did have a strange look on his face. His eyes flitted from Steve to Tony to back again, before finally settling on Steve with a disbelieving, universal, "You did not" look.

Oh, shit, Steve thought. He shook his head, wide-eyed. Now was not the time. It was the worst time.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Think of something. Anything!

Bucky, of course, faced it head-on. He turned to Tony and didn't blink. "December 16, 1991."

Pepper stiffened. Tony froze. It was almost comical, the way this vibrant man who could never, ever sit still became as statue.

Until he dropped his glass and lunged.

Steve jumped to his feet. Peter shot a web at Tony's back and yanked. Pepper scrambled out of the way and pressed herself against the wall. Steve grabbed Tony and managed to push him against the opposite wall, but his legs got some rough treatment from Tony's kicks. Bucky never moved.

"What the hell happened on December 16th?" Peter shouted over the chaos.

Tony probably didn't even register the question when he screamed at Bucky, "YOU KILLED MY MOM, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Bucky held up his hands. "I thought you already knew! That that was the whole reason you were on the tarmac in the first place!"

"Tony, calm down!" Steve ordered desperately. "It wasn't him. It was the Winter Sold--"

"You knew!" Tony spat, shoving at Steve unceremoniously. Thank god he was too angry to think about summoning the armor. "The whole time?"

Steve cringed. "I suspected."

Tony struggled harder. Steve didn't let go. Tony shouted over his shoulder, "Give me one good reason why we should trust you!"

Bucky's eyes hardened. "Calze."

Steve and Tony both froze. Steve whipped around, eyes wide. "What?"

"What?" Peter asked, a lot more confused.

Tony didn't relax, but he wasn't struggling anymore either. He narrowed his eyes. "Start talking."

Bucky looked between the two of them, then at Peter, then back at them. "I started to remember things. Things about Steve. So I did some research, hoping to jog my memory along. It led me to researching the Avengers, and led me to Peter." He acknowledged the boy for the first time: "You're a lot more of a spitfire than I thought you'd be."

"Thanks," Peter said. "I think."

Bucky nodded and continued, "I was also trying to track down Hydra. Finish them off. When they kidnapped Peter, I managed to trace them to their facility upstate. Much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn't take them on by myself, not when they had a hostage. And I wasn't ready to deal with you guys then, so when you found the cipher I dropped you the hint."

Steve swallowed. He hadn't known. How did he not figure that out?

Peter tipped his head. "Huh. Thanks."

Tony was still tense under Steve's hands, but when he said, "Get off of me," Steve complied, stepping back so he was between Tony and Bucky.

Tony jabbed a finger at them. "I don't care where you go, I don't care what you do. Stay out of my Tower, stay out of my sight."

"Tony..." Steve tried.

"Don't," Pepper said, prying herself off of the wall. She gave Steve a hard look, one that meant that whatever respect she had for him had gone up in flames in the last two minutes. "Just don't."

Tony grabbed his suit and stormed out of the plane. Pepper left the room for the cockpit. Steve felt hollow. Bucky still hadn't moved. Peter looked around, all confidence and bravado vanished from his face, leaving only a lost, confused boy behind. "Now what?"

Chapter Text

The next few weeks were hell.

Tony's side of the Avengers stayed at the Tower while Steve's side alternated between the complex upstate and their own personal living areas. Clint and Scott went back to their respective families. T'Challa returned to Wakanda. Wanda remained at the complex while Tony's lawyers sorted out her case. Sam alternated between the Accords and his duties as a veteran counselor. Steve had his apartment in Brooklyn, and he visited the complex every weekend to see Bucky. He tried texting and calling Tony a couple of times, but after he got no response realized the other man needed some time to himself.

"Why the hell didn't you tell him, Stevie?" Bucky demanded.

Steve shrugged, looking down. "I didn't want to hurt him."

Peter was well and truly stuck in the middle. His home was the Tower, but Steve was his legal guardian. The last thing Steve wanted to do was yank him from his home, like what had happened so many times before he'd finally adopted the boy. But he wasn't going to remove himself from Peter's life, either. He'd almost made that mistake before, he wasn't doing it again.

Once again, Ms. Potts found the solution: "His school is closer to the Tower, anyway. He can live there, and you can have him on weekends and spend time with him after school."

So, that's what they did. The Avengers tiptoed around each other while trying to hammer out the fine details of the Accords, mostly over email because they couldn't communicate in any other method without blowing up. Peter went with Steve when he visited the compound, lived in the Tower with the pro-Accords Avengers on the weekdays, and Steve heard him calling and skyping and texting all the others he didn't see face-to-face.

The Avengers were being held together by spiderwebs, and nothing more.

Around week three, Steve and Peter pulled up to the Avengers compound to see a jet black luxury vehicle already there. For a minute, Steve thought Tony. Then King T'Challa walked out of the compound, with Bucky next to him.

Immediately, Steve tensed, even though T'Challa was in a tux rather than his panther suit.

Peter, who was behind the wheel (they were getting as much practice before the driving test as they could), parked the car and got out before Steve could call him back. Steve jumped out of the car to follow.

T'Challa looked up and smiled. "Ah, Captian Rogers."

"Your Highness," Steve said cautiously. "I thought you were back in Wakanda."

"I was. I had unfinished business here."

Steve looked at Bucky, who was...well, he was his usual unreadable self, but he was more relaxed than usual.

"I owed your friend an apology," T'Challa continued. "And you, considering our fight on the freeway."

Steve let out his breath, and found himself smiling. "No hard feelings. The first time we met Thor, he tried to bash my skull in with a hammer."

Peter perked up, alarmed. "Wait, what?"

"We didn't tell you that?"

"No, I don't recall any attempted head-bashing in any of the 'when we met' stories. I only found out yesterday that Clint and Nat met when he was ordered to assassinate her and instead put an arrow through her leg. Seriously, why are all the juicy details only coming out now?"

Steve winced. "That's because you were nine and we gave you the PG-version."

"You left that out for the sake of non-existent innocence? What else am I missing out on?"

"Don't get him started," Bucky muttered.

Peter shook his head and turned to T'Challa. "Did you get the webs off of your clothes okay?"

T'Challa gave him a wry look. "My dry cleaner officially hates you."

Peter snickered.

"Would you like to come inside?" Steve asked, belatedly remembering his manners.

T'Challa shook his head. "No, I have some prior engagements today. Maybe another time." He tipped his head to Bucky. "Barnes."

Bucky returned it. "Your Highness."

T'Challa gave one more look at Peter and said, "Thank you."

Peter shrugged, his cheeks turning pink. "No problem."

They watched T'Challa get into his car and drive away. Steve turned to Bucky. "You okay?"

He was treated to one of Bucky's very rare smiles. "I'm fine."

--

"Jesus, Peter, this sucks."

Tony paused. It was late afternoon, and he was in the hallway on his way to the kitchen. But he'd stopped at the familiar voice he hadn't heard in ages: Gwen Stacy.

"Wanda was telling me something similar over the phone," she continued. "But she really down-played it."

"Yeah, I know." That was Peter, and he sounded exhausted. It was two weeks into this; they were all exhausted. "But what else can we do? They were going to kill each other, Gwen! Bucky and T'Challa got things patched up, but that was just, like, a stupid misunderstanding that they were able to brush off because they didn't know each other. Tony hid information from Steve--he knew about the Accords at least a week before the others did--and Steve lied to Tony. And because they're the two leaders, everyone else is following suit. And they're both super stubborn, and even if the Accords get hashed out this isn't just going to go away and..."

His voice broke on the end and it sent a jolt of pain through Tony's spine. Gwen shushed him, there was some movement, and from the silhouette on the wall it looked like they were hugging. "They're going to figure this out, okay?" she said. "They absolutely hated each other before the Chitauri. They pulled together then, they can pull together now."

Tony bit back a snort. Because this was apples and oranges.

"So you're saying we need an alien army to attack the earth?" Peter asked, voice a little wobbly but under control.

"Sure. I'll whip one up and have it attack New York. No, wait, we've been under attack a lot. Let's go with Miami. I hate Miami."

Peter chuckled, sniffed, and they broke apart. Tony counted to three before walking into the kitchen. "Hey, kiddos."

Gwen beamed. "Hey, Mr. Stark. Peter was just telling me how everything's going to shit."

That's why he loved this girl: she never beat around the bush.

"Accurate," Tony muttered, turning on the coffee-maker and sneaking a glance at Peter. His eyes were a little red, but he was completely under control now, and gave Tony a shit-eating grin. "Gwen's got a date tomorrow."

"Peter!"

"What?"

"Oh, really?" Tony asked, grateful for the change in subject.

Gwen sighed. "Second, date, actually."

--

On the eve of Peter's sixteenth birthday, New York saw a massive thunderstorm, which woke Steve up.

He groaned into his pillow. He'd forgotten about Thor.

--

"Friends!" Thor cheered, after the Bifrost had dropped him off at the mighty Avengers Tower.

Anthony's greeting smile was brittle on the edges, which was Thor's first indication that something was wrong. "Hey, Point Break. How's the weather in Asguard?"

"Fair, as always." Thor hugged his shield-brother, then pulled back. "What's wrong?"

Anthony grimaced. "Uh...you missed a lot."

"Is Peter here? His nameday is tomorrow."

"It's the weekend, so he's with Rogers."

The use of Steven's last name, with the hardening of Anthony's eyes, told Thor that something was very, very wrong. He braced himself. "What has happened?"

--

Several brief and tense conversations later--one with Anthony, one with Natasha, one with Steven (over the phone), one with Clint (also over the phone), and one with Peter (over the mini-letter system known as texting)--and Thor was filled with such sorrow he hadn't felt since Loki's betrayal. He reread Peter's last text: We're not going to be celebrating my birthday together. That's a disaster in the making. But on the plus side, this means I get a bunch of mini-parties! :)

He meant to cheer Thor, but even through the toneless words, he could see the strain this was causing. On everyone.

He was alone in his chambers, wondering whether he should leave in a few days' time for his Lady Jane as he'd originally planned, or stay longer and attempt to help his shield brothers and sisters back together, when someone knocked on his door.

A dark-skinned man Thor had only ever seen once or twice stepped into his room, with a grim smile. "Hey. Welcome back."

"Colonel James Rhodes," Thor greeted. "This is a pleasant surprise."

Rhodes shrugged. "Well, we're teammates now. I figured we should get to know each other."

"I agree. Mead?"

"I like the way you think."

A few cups of mead later, and the two of them were giggling on the sofa while James regaled Thor of tales of what had happened during his time away, both domestic and adventurous. "I swear, when Steve saw the state of that lab, I thought he'd bust a vein like he did with the Lizard..."

"The Lizard?" Thor echoed.

James paused. "I thought you said you'd talked to Peter."

"Ye-es."

"And Tony. And Steve. And a few other people."

"Yes...but they were all rather brief, and mostly focused on the...less tasteful events."

"Ah." James paused. "And...did any of them mention what Peter did on the tarmac?"

Thor frowned. "Steven and Natasha mentioned that he had called the Lady Pepper to mediate."

"...and that's it?"

"They did not wish to go into further detail. Peter didn't mention anything, either."

James chuckled, pulling his mobile device out of his pocket. "Of course he didn't. Let me tell you a couple of tales, Odinson, through the wonders of YouTube..."

--

Thor was grinning when he heard the elevators ding two days after his arrival. There was a pause. Then, "This silence is ominous!" Peter called from the hallway. "I'd better not see evidence of explosions!"

"Stall," Anthony hissed to Thor, while he, Natasha, James and Vision hurriedly finished with the rest of the party preparation. Thor was happy to oblige.

"I merely singed the roof," he said, coming into the hallway. "I didn't explode it."

Peter's entire face brightened. He dropped the backpack and ran up to the Thor, almost tackling him to the ground in his hug. "Uncle Thor!"

Thor closed his eyes and let himself believe, for a brief moment, that everything was right in the world. Or at the very least, it would be soon enough.

"Are Jane and Darcy coming?" Peter asked, pulling back.

"Nay, their research takes them to the land of Florida."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Gross."

Thor chuckled, and lowered his voice so as not to be heard by those in the kitchen. "I've heard of your many achievements the past few months."

"The science fair? Yeah, we finally got first place!"

"Not that," Thor said. "Though, yes, I am also pleased to hear about your academic success. I was referring to your battle against the Lizard, and your involvement in the Civil War."

The joy seeped out of Peter's body. He looked down the ground and shrugged. "Lizard was easy. It was just the one guy and I had Gwen, and even Tony showed up. And on the tarmac, that was mostly Pepper."

"Not from what I've heard." Thor didn't know whether to be amused or saddened by Peter's humility. Loki had learned throughout his life that everything he did was overshadowed by others, by Thor. Thor sincerely wished they hadn't sent the same message to Peter with their own abilities and battles. "Good people would be dead without your actions and those of Lady Gwen. I saw your rescue myself through the YouTube. And your aunts and uncles would be far, far worse if you hadn't acted."

"They're still broken," Peter whispered.

Thor squeezed his shoulders. "The fault for that does not lie with you, and neither does the responsibility to fix it. They are grown men and women who've shed blood together. They'll recognize the others as their friends again."

"You think?" He sounded so achingly small.

"I know." Thor grinned and raised his voice. "Now, we seem to have a bit of a problem."

Peter sharpened. "What? What's wrong?"

"Well, it's nothing horrendous," Thor said, pulling him into the kitchen. "But...I cannot eat all of this dessert myself."

Peter grinned and sagged in relief at the shouts of "Happy Birthday!" from those in the room. There was a hastily-frosted cake with a spider design on the stove, with several dozen cupcakes ordered by Anthony and his excellent servant FRIDAY. And there were a couple of wrapped presents on the counter as well.

"Do I need to set aside some of the strawberry ones for your girlfriend?" Anthony asked.

Thor perked up in interest. "You're courting someone?"

"No," Peter defended. "Gwen isn't my girlfriend. She has a boyfriend, in Queens, whom she's visiting. She and I already celebrated when she took me to the science museum last week."

James snorted. "Nerds."

"Shaddup."

--

Steve held his breath as Bucky pulled himself together from the latest panic attack, clutching his knees and shivering. One never knew whether it would be Bucky who looked up or the Winter Soldier.

Luck was with Steve today. It was Bucky. But he looked haunted, and it broke Steve's heart. "I don't know how long I can do this, Stevie."

He pulled Bucky into a hug and held on tight.

--

Weeks passed. Missions happened, but only signed-on Avengers were sent to the field. That meant Team Iron Man, Thor, and soon enough Clint Barton. He was the first of Team Captain America to sign the still in-progress Accords, once they met his requirements. But his missions tended to be solo or with Natasha. He didn't live at the Tower, opting to be part-time so he could stay with his family. So the only interaction Tony had with him was sending him the occasional set of arrows, and checking in with medical the one time he fell out of a moving truck and broke a leg (Clint never saw him; Tony left before he woke up, after making sure he was okay).

Which meant the first time he came face-to-face with an "off-duty" Avenger since the tarmac wasn't until several weeks after Peter's birthday party.

Natasha's phone went off while everyone was in the living room. She frowned, got up silently, and left. Nobody questioned it. Those who weren't too absorbed in a video game, book, or their own phone decided that it was probably a super-secret mission for Black Widow.

About an hour later, Tony left the room and headed for Natasha's floor. He needed to talk to her about some potential updates to her suit.

When he walked into her living room, the last thing he expected to see was her, a worried Peter, a Gwen Stacy with a black eye, and one Wanda Maximoff.

"Maximoff," Tony said, surprised.

Her face was blank and her tone very polite when she said, "Stark."

"Your lawyers got something worked out?"

"I have my visa, and I'm no longer under house arrest so long as I don't do anything stupid," she said. "Thank you for that. If they add that amendment to the Accords, I'll be signing them soon."

"Well...good." Tony wasn't sure how he felt about Wanda. Their relationship had always been tense, what with his weapons killing her family and her messing with his head. But she was just a kid, only a few years older than Peter. And Tony was always met with an instinctive urge to protect her.

Just like she was very obviously protecting Gwen with a hand on her shoulder. Those two had the oddest friendship. Gwen had her habit of meeting the weirdest people and deciding, "This human is mine now," while Wanda floundered in both the normal world and mutant world. Somehow they made it work. Right now, Gwen was holding an ice pack to her black eye, and also had a split lip. Other bruises disappeared under her clothes. Tony frowned. "What happened?"

"Oh, I'm just asking Nat here for some self-defense lessons," Gwen said nonchalantly.

"Can you come in tomorrow before school?" Nat asked. At Gwen's nod, she said, "Then we'll combine it with Peter's."

"Cool," Peter said grimly.

"You don't mind, do you Tony?" Nat asked.

"No, of course not," Tony said. "But I'm still curious as to why someone beat on my favorite science girl."

Gwen smiled, then grimaced when it tugged on her split lip. "Your favorite? MJ's going to be so jealous."

Wanda squeezed her shoulder. "Stark, do you think you could loan the lawyers you gave me to Gwen so she can get a restraining order against her ex-boyfriend?"

Ex-boyfriend? As far as Tony knew, she'd only ever dated the one...

Oh. Oh shit.

"Don't," Gwen ordered before Tony could even open his mouth. "My dad's on the restraining order. I don't need lawyers. I don't need anyone hacking into his bank account or criminal record or social media or anything to ruin him in cyberspace. I don't need anyone mind-controlling him into doing something stupid. I don't need anyone beating the shit out of him. I don't want any of you to touch him in any way, shape or form. What I need is to know how to kick his ass for if he decides to ignore my break-up speech and come back. That's the extent of your involvement. Got it?"

Tony deflated. He turned to the others for help, and was met with sympathetic and frustrated looks. "We already tried to convince her to let us play with him," Wanda said.

Tony groaned. "Fine."

--

Wanda signed the Accords, then Sam Wilson. They stayed at the Avengers compound upstate with Barnes.

--

The Manhattan-based Avengers found themselves all but officially adopting Gwen Stacy. She was there almost every day, much more so than MJ or Harry. (Especially Harry; that kid had grown incredibly distant and it was obviously bugging Peter to no end.) She'd show up at six in the morning in sweatpants and a t-shirt with her backpack and duffel bag and train with Natasha and Peter for an hour. If Natasha was unavailable, one of the others stepped up: Rhodey, Tony, Thor, or even Vision. Afterwards they had breakfast, Gwen and Peter changed clothes, and they left for school. She'd spend the occasional afternoon at the Tower, too. Especially on bad days. Those were the days when her ex-boyfriend followed her down the street, but didn't approach her. It still scared her half to death, and she'd tear through the lobby to the elevator white as a sheet, then throw herself into training with a steely determination the Avengers couldn't help but admire.

Natasha was brutal, just as she'd been with Peter. Gwen never asked her to lighten up.

If Natasha was unavailable, Gwen's second choice was Thor, because he was the biggest, the strongest, and the most intimidating. If someone could handle Thor, they could handle any "Midguardian weakling."

And just like Peter, she took none of their shit, accepted all of their quirks, and gave as good as she got in the good-natured ribbing.

So yes, the Manhattan-based Avengers adored Gwen. It wasn't much of a surprise to learn that the upstate-Avengers loved her, too.

--

"You sure you want to spend the weekend up here?" Peter asked for the hundredth time. "I swear, it's not nearly as exciting as it sounds."

"Sure beats staying in my room all weekend," Gwen replied, tossing her bags in the trunk.

Steve smiled. There was no school on Friday, so on Thursday afternoon he and Peter were leaving for the compound. Gwen had asked to tag along.

Two hours later, they were showing her the guest bedroom.

"Just so you know," Steve warned. "If you see Bucky...he's a little tense. He probably won't engage in any kind of conversation and will walk away if you try. Don't take it as an insult; he's had a rough couple of months."

Gwen nodded, an understanding smile on her face. "Yeah, I get it." She turned to Peter and grinned. "So, if we don't practice, Nat'll kill us."

Peter gave a theatrical groan. "Give me five minutes."

Steve went to find Bucky while the two went to the gym, Peter giving a quick tour as they went. Bucky was on the roof, glaring at the treeline when Steve approached. "Why did you bring a civilian here?"

Steve gave him a look. "I bring Peter all the time. You never say anything."

"He's trained, and he has powers. This girl has neither."

"Bucky." Steve touched his shoulder. "You'll be fine. She'll be fine."

He grunted, but didn't agree. He looked at his shoes. "So how've you been?"

Steve talked about his week. Bucky talked about his. There wasn't much for either of them. Bucky had therapy, and that was about it. With Peter living at the Tower, Steve lived alone. He avoided his empty apartment as much as possible by running, volunteering, and working on the Accords and other Avengers business from his laptop at a café. Those last two were a bit difficult, considering the significant PR blow the Avengers had taken. But it was getting better.

"Is Wanda back yet?" Steve asked. He knew she had a mission with Hawkeye and Black Widow, and would want to spend time with Gwen.

"Nah, should be getting in later today."

"Hm." They headed into the building, and found themselves in the gym, just as Gwen threw Peter over her shoulder. He rolled on the floor, shot to his feet, and came right back at her, absolutely merciless until he got her pinned to the floor.

"Dammit," she snapped. "Again."

Peter rolled off of her and grinned. "You're getting better."

"Not good enough," she grunted, accepting his help to her feet.

"Peter's been receiving lessons since he was eight," Steve said gently. "You've only just started."

"Yeah, but I can still be better." Gwen's eyes jumped from Steve to Bucky. They flicked to his metal arm before zeroing in on his face. "Sergeant Barnes, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "What's with the zeal? Most people hate training, especially newbies."

The teens decided now was an appropriate time for a water break. They walked to the edge of the room and grabbed their bottles. "Asshole ex-boyfriend doesn't understand the phrase 'she's just not that into you,'" Gwen explained, chugging half of her water.

Bucky's eyes flashed. Steve knew that look. He hadn't been the only one who got into back-alley scraps against bullies. Bucky had his fair share, and nothing got his back up faster than an abusive asshole. Especially considering the fact that he had once had three younger sisters.

"Also, this way I have a chance at seeing the Avengers all sweaty in sexy workout clothes," she added.

"Admit it, Gwen," Peter said, motioning to himself. "Nothing's ever gonna beat this."

"Next time you throw a man to a ground, you dislocate his shoulder," Bucky said, stepping forward. "Let me show you something."

Gwen perked up in interest. Steve couldn't stop the smile as he watched the two of them go through the move with a dummy (so they wouldn't hurt Peter's poor arm). Slowly at first, then faster. It took fifteen minutes before Bucky was satisfied with the dummy, and had her try it on his metal arm.

"You sure it won't hurt you?" she asked, tapping the metal. "Dislocating your shoulder seems like a real shitty way to say 'thank you.'"

"Do you have supersoldier strength?" he asked.

"No."

"You're not gonna hurt me."

She gave him an annoyed look. He raised an eyebrow, looking downright smug.

"This is the beginning of trouble, isn't it?" Peter asked Steve.

"Oh, definitely," he agreed. "How're the others?"

Peter shrugged. "Pretending everything's okay when it's really not. But I think they're getting better. Tony's not locking himself up in the workshop as much."

Steve nodded. He didn't take his eyes off of Gwen and Bucky.

"Why didn't you trust him?"

He frowned and turned to Peter, who was looking at him intently. "What?"

"Tony," Peter clarified. "You didn't trust him enough to tell him. About his parents. Why?"

"Of course I trust him," he defended.

"No, you don't. And since his first instinct was to attack Bucky, I don't really blame you. But I want to know why."

Steve shook his head, turning away. "It's complicated."

"Uh-huh." Peter did not sound convinced.

They were saved from any more conversation by footsteps, and then Wanda appearing in the entrance of the gym. She looked exhausted, her clothes a little dirty and a small cut on her eyebrow. But she smiled when she saw them. "Hi, Peter, hi, Steve. How are--Gwen!"

She positively squealed the name. Gwen paused with Bucky and grinned when Wanda ran up and hugged her. "I didn't know you were coming! Why didn't you say anything?"

"Surprise," Gwen giggled.

"I think that's enough for today," Steve decided, looking at Bucky, who nodded. "Why don't you three get washed up. Isn't Sam cooking dinner?"

"The famous casserole?" Gwen asked, prying herself from Wanda. "Can I help? I'll feel like a lump otherwise."

"Just don't blow up the oven," Peter said.

"Oh, ye of little faith." She turned to Bucky. "You wanna help make sure I don't blow up the oven?"

Bucky paused, clearly caught off-guard. Gwen's face was open and welcoming, not a hint of fear or suspicion. Bucky glanced at Steve, who gave an encouraging nod, and put his hands in his pockets. "Sure. Why not?"

The oven did not, thankfully, blow up. And when Bucky made dinner the next day, citing the need to "finally get off my ass and do something," nobody protested. Nothing blew up then, either. And the food was pretty good, too.

--

Natasha wiggled out of Gwen's arms and put a hand on her throat. Gwen sighed in defeat. "Again?"

Natasha stepped back, tipping her head. "That move would've dislocated an opponent's shoulder."

"Yeah."

"I don't recall teaching you that."

Gwen shrugged. "Bucky showed me."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. She glanced at Peter, who gave a guilty little shrug.

Ah, no. Black Widow was not going to be upstaged by the Winter Soldier again. Not in any field, but especially not in combat training.

"I have a counter move to show you..."

Chapter Text

Almost a year to the date that the Accords became an issue, Steve and the last of the Avengers signed them.

And just in time. Because an alien army landed in Brazil.

--

"Shit!" Tony snapped, narrowly avoiding the energy beam from the alien ship. That missile he'd launched should've downed it.

"Language!"

Tony jerked, then sighed. "Really, Cap?"

"Sorry," Steve replied sheepishly. "Too used to Peter."

Everyone had been tense when they'd met for debriefing on their way to Brazil. It was the first time they'd all been in the same room since the tarmac. Well, not all of them. Barnes, Lang, and T'Challa were not officially Avengers, and therefore weren't in the picture. Which was good, because while Tony had had enough time to acknowledge that Hydra was to blame for his parents' death and not Barnes, he wasn't ready to face the man.

When it was revealed that the aliens were actually attacking two separate parts of the same city, the relief had been palpable. Team Cap plus Thor were on the north side of town while Team Iron Man took the south, though as the fight progressed they were gradually moving closer together.

"I've got eyes on the mother ship," Rhodey said.

"Me, too," Sam added.

There was an explosion, then a curse, this time from Rhodey. "It's shielded."

"What about Vision?" Steve asked between grunts.

"I can phase through," the android confirmed. He was about a mile away from Tony, in the air, blasting winged aliens out of the sky with his laser-thingy. "But I won't be able to take anyone with me."

"Just shut down their shielding. The other flyers will help out then."

An uneasiness stirred in Tony's gut. He didn't know why; this mission was going better than they'd expected. So why the sudden feeling of dread?

Maybe it was just having Steve in charge again. By now the two teams had cornered the aliens in the center of the city. Earlier, they'd been two co-captains, leading their own respective teams. Now that they were together, everyone deferred to Captain America, whose orders left a bad taste in Tony's mouth. Last year he'd trusted Steve just fine, even if he'd argued or ignored a few orders. Now? Now, he couldn't do it.

"It's down!" Vision cried. "Thor, strike it from directly on top. It's designed to defend against the ground and sides, not from above."

Made sense. Tony saw Thor fly up so he was above the ship, charging up with lightning while Vision phased out of the ship.

Then several things happened at once.

Thor delivered a crushing lightning-strike to the ship, and Tony's suit suddenly lost power.

"What the--!" He tried getting the repulsors firing, but everything was dead as he hurdled to the ground. "FRIDAY!"

No answer.

"Shit, Tony, I'm down," Rhodey shouted. "I'm flying a dead stick."

"Join the club!" Tony snapped, brain working furiously as he tried to figure this out, to save them. The suits might protect them from death, but there was only so much they could do.

"Stark, I've got you," Steve said.

"Fuck that! GET RHODEY!"

Rhodey wasn't having that. "Tones--"

"I'm on Rhodes," Sam said. Tony couldn't see any of them, the ground coming up fast as he spun and fell. He sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself...

Until something slammed into him. And it wasn't the ground. He was falling sideways, not down, and then crashing through a window into a building. He landed and skidded on the floor, and it wasn't until he stopped moving that he noticed the body that had come with him.

"Rogers?" he croaked.

Steve hissed, pushing himself to his hands and knees. Broken glass sprinkled out of his uniform. "You all right?"

"Uh, how did you..."

"I was on the roof of the next building over."

"Gotchya!" Sam cheered over the comms.

Just as Tony was relaxing, he heard Rhodey's panicked, "Wilson, what are you doing? Don't--!"

A crash, then silence.

Tony's spine turned to ice. When the Iron Man suit refused to respond, he slapped the release and pried himself out. Steve's orders for the others to check on Falcon and War Machine barely registered.

"The mother ship is down," Thor reported. "Our foes are fleeing."

"I found Wilson and Rhodes," Vision said, his voice grim. "We need a medic."

It took far too long for Tony and Steve to get to the scene. When they did, Tony was at once worried, relieved, and sick with guilt at that relief.

Rhodey was out of the War Machine suit, unharmed. He was kneeling over an unconscious, bloodied Sam Wilson, gritting his teeth as he administered first aid.

"What happened?" Steve demanded.

"He caught me," Rhodey said. "But we were going too fast and were going to hit the ground, and he flipped so he would take the brunt of it and..."

Tony winced.

"How did the suits die anyway?" Natasha asked over the comms.

They all turned to Tony. He barely noticed as he pulled out his phone. Because there were very few reasons for the suits to go down at the same time. And one of them...

"Fuck," he said when he couldn't get FRIDAY online.

"What?" Steve snapped.

"FRIDAY's down."

"Which means?"

"The only way that could happen was if someone shut her down at the tower," Tony explained.

The implications of that sank in, and suddenly they were all moving.

"I'll stay with Wilson," Rhodey declared. Tony put a hand on his shoulder as he passed, grateful he was alive, hoping Wilson would be fine, and praying that the situation at the tower wasn't as bad as his imagination was saying it was.

"Peter's not answering his phone," Clint said. They all moved faster.

--

It took far too long to get back to New York. Even at max speed, the quinjet took hours to get there. When they did, it was swarming with SHIELD agents.

Peter still hadn't answered his phone.

"What happened?" Steve demanded of the nearest agent. The building was still standing, and there were no scorch-marks or bloodstains or even broken windows.

"We're not sure," the agent said. "But we know the Winter Soldier was involved."

Tony cursed. "Dammit, Rogers, I told you--"

"Now's not the time," Natasha scolded. She turned to the agent. "How do you know that?"

"We found the blasted remains of his bionic arm," the agent said. "We also found a body."

They all froze.

"Who's body?" Steve asked.

"We don't know."

"Show me."

The agent led them through the building to the Avengers' communal floor. Everything was taped off as a crime scene. There was a body on the floor, near the elevator, covered in a white sheet. Blood stained the torso.

Everyone braced themselves. Steve could all too easily picture shaggy brown hair, glazed dark eyes, his boy...

The agent peeled back the sheet.

It wasn't Peter.

It was Gwen.

Chapter Text

A choked-off scream tore Steve's eyes away from Gwen. Wanda covered her mouth with both hands as tears streamed down her cheeks. Clint pulled her away.

"What. The fuck?" Tony growled.

"Cause of death?" Steve asked. He was relieved it wasn't Peter at his feet, but he still felt numb.

"Gunshot wound to the chest," the agent said.

Steve took a closer look and cringed. In addition to the gunshot, Gwen had a bruise on her cheek and a split lip. Someone had beaten her up, then shot her.

She was right in front of the elevator, too. Had she been trying to get away?

"Do you have her phone?" Natasha asked.

"It's locked," the agent said apologetically, handing it over. Natasha snorted.

"I'll get FRIDAY back online," Tony said, heading for the stairs. "We'll get access to the cameras again."

"I'll help." Vision took Tony's arm and they disappeared into the floor.

Thor hesitated, then asked, "Could someone have...triggered the Winter Soldier?"

Steve felt sick. He did not want to think about that possibility, but he didn't see any other alternative. Why else would Bucky have been in the Tower in the first place?

"Uh, maybe not," Natasha said, fingers flying over Gwen's phone. "He didn't break in."

Steve blinked. "What?"

"She invited him."

"What?"

Tony's sudden voice confused him. Hadn't he disappeared with Vision?

Oh, wait. They still had the coms. Steve was really out of it if he was forgetting things like that.

"Yeah," Natasha said, and began reading:

Gwen: I'm heading to the Tower. Want to come?

Barnes: Why?

G: Because the Avengers assembled.

B: So?

G: So Peter's going to sulk all day until they're back.

B: If they get back and find me there, I'll get a repulsor up the ass.

Tony snorted over the coms. It brought a wane smile to Steve's lips.

G: Not if they never know you're there.

B: Doesn't Stark have that all-knowing AI?

G: Yeah, but she's not OBLIGATED to tell him who's been in the Tower unless they're a threat. I asked. You're not a threat.

B: I'll ignore that.
B: It's still a bad idea. Why do you need ME there?

G: Because my dad is the Curfew King. I have to be home by five, and this battle will probably last a lot longer. Come on, please?

B: You just want me to make snacks, don't you?

G: :)

B: Fine. I'm cleared to leave the compound for no more than twenty-four hours. ETA two hours.

G: Yay!

"Does your friend have a usual habit of sneaking into places he shouldn't?" Tony asked.

Steve winced. "Actually, there was a time when we were kids and we'd break into our neighbor's apartment to convince him his place was haunted."

"What? Why?"

"Because he was a rotten bastard who deserved it."

"Bucky would never hurt Gwen," Wanda said. She and Clint had wandered back over at some point. Her eyes were red and her voice was shaky, but she wasn't backing down. "Someone else had to be in the Tower."

The lights flickered, then stabilized. FRIDAY's welcome voice filled the speakers, "Back online."

"Everyone meet in the conference room," Steve ordered.

--

Tony already had the security feed up by the time everyone else got into the room. "FRIDAY, show us when Gwen arrived at the Tower. While you're at it, start looking for Peter and the cause of you going haywire."

"On it, boss."

Steve and most of the others sat as the screens came to life. Gwen walked into the lobby, signed in, and went to the Avengers elevator.

"Interesting," Natasha said. "She's already beat up."

She was. Gwen already had her bruised cheek and split lip. And a big smile on her face. "Take me to Peter, FRI."

Peter was in the workshop. Steve hadn't seen it since...well, since. So he was surprised to find an entire section blocked off. "What's that?"

Tony shrugged. "Peter's part of the workshop. He wanted a space for his own projects."

It was so much like Tony working in his workshop that it hurt. Rock music blasting the speakers, mad genius bent over his work, unbelievable technology casually strewn about...

But it was also different. The music wasn't AC/DC, it was Imagine Dragons. Peter had none of the obscenely dangerous pieces of technology in his section: no weapons or massive soldering irons or anything that could cause serious damage to himself, no matter how careful he was. He was working on a blue and red uniform.

The biggest difference was the holo screens surrounding him. Tony's always had diagrams and numbers. Peter's was news stations. Steve could see himself and the other Avengers on those screens, just arriving in Brazil to fight the aliens.

"Hey Peter!" Gwen cheered.

"'Sup?"

"Not much. Whose suit is that?"

"Sam's."

Steve blinked. Everyone looked at Tony, who was refusing all eye contact.

"Oh, is this one of 'SHIELD'S upgrades' for the Team Cap Avengers?" Gwen asked.

"Yup," Peter said, popping the P. "Which is probably why Tony let me do the design. And the final polish. If they ever find out that all the new goodies are coming from him, he can just say it was actually me working on my science skills."

"Should have seen that coming," Natasha muttered.

Steve was floored. Of course "his" Avengers had been receiving upgrades ever since they went back on the roster and signed the Accords, but they had always come from SHIELD. Tony had never been obligated to make them new gear, even before the mess on the tarmac. It had been a friendly gesture, so everyone had figured that it had ended with their friendship.

So either Tony's generosity expanded beyond his friends, he saw making the gear as his duty to the Avengers, or he still considered them friends. Steve really hoped it was the last one.

Clint's voice sounded very small when he asked, "The arrows?"

Tony hunched in on himself. "SHIELD's quality sucks balls. You know that, Barton."

"...thank you."

Tony didn't acknowledge that, just kept his eyes on the screen.

"That looks nothing like Falcon's uniform," Gwen said, coming to stand just behind Peter.

"He needs a new look," Peter protested. "If he doesn't like it, then whatever. I'll just change the--oh, whoa." He finally saw her face. "What happened to you?"

Gwen grinned. "Tell you later, when Bucky shows up. Let's go to the kitchen, I'm starved."

"Bucky?" Peter squawked, hastily shutting everything down and scrambling after her. "You invited Bucky? To Tony's Tower?"

"It's the Avengers' Tower."

"He's gonna kill you. And Bucky. And me."

"He is not. He'll never know."

"Famous last words," Peter grumbled as they reached the elevator. Which opened to Bucky.

Bucky looked sheepish, almost harmless in his jeans and long-sleeved shirt. He had no weapons that Steve could see.

Steve couldn't help smiling. It was always an uphill battle to get Bucky out of the compound. Part of him was awed at Gwen for pulling it off so easily it.

Peter looked between the two of them, then sighed. "I'm washing my hands of this. FRIDAY, make a note."

"Noted."

They went to the communal floor. Peter didn't even have to turn the TV on; it flicked to the news as soon as he walked into the room.

"How often does he do this?" Wanda asked.

"Do what? Keep an eye on us while we're out?" Clint clarified. "Every time, as far as I know."

"So what happened to you?" Bucky asked, sitting on the couch. The teens followed him.

Gwen bounced in her seat. "Okay, so, I ran into my ex this morning."

Peter and Bucky both stiffened. "And?"

"And he tried to do the whole 'I'm sorry, it'll never happen again, let's get back together' speech, and when I said no he lashed out." She motioned to her lip. "Didn't duck in time. But then he swung again and...you know that move Natasha showed me on how to flip a guy over your shoulder?"

"Yeah," Peter said.

"It sucked so bad. I almost fell after him. I could literally hear her yelling at me for that. Especially when I didn't pin him down right and he managed to throw me off, so then I tried the thing where you dislocate the guy's arm, and I don't think I did that right either, I think I just sprained it. But anyway, then I kicked him in the balls. Then I ran. Dad's got him in a cell now."

Peter brightened. "Assault charges are, what, two years?"

"At least," Bucky confirmed. "And you're right; if you didn't pin him down right, Romanov is going to have words with you."

"Don't care!" Gwen cheered.

Something in Steve ached. When her ex had first hit her, he'd stolen a piece of her. Her confidence, her security. Natasha and Bucky had helped her take it back, and helped bring her to this vibrant, powerful state.

And she was going to be dead in an hour.

Steve must've zoned out, because when the conversation suddenly stopped, he realized Gwen must've gotten up and gotten herself the yogurt she was eating. All three pairs of eyes were fixed on the screen.

"...Iron Man appears to be down," the reported was saying. Bucky sucked in a breath through his teeth. "He hasn't been seen since the ship smashed him into the...oh, wait, there he is!"

Red and gold flashed across the screen. The three of them relaxed.

"This is like watching the worst movie ever," Peter grumbled.

"It is?" Gwen asked nonchalantly. "I should've brought MJ."

Peter frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She gave him a look over a spoonful of yogurt.

"What? No!"

"You've been crushing on her since ninth grade. Don't pretend otherwise."

"I have not!"

"You need to ask her out."

"Is MJ the one with dark skin and homey girl-next-door attitude?" Bucky asked.

"That's her," Gwen confirmed.

"I'm not asking her out. I'm not even into her!" Peter protested.

"Ninth. Grade."

Bucky sighed, resigned. "Peter, do we need to have The Talk?"

Peter jumped out of his seat and scrambled to the other side of the room. "Nope! No! No talk needed here. I've had an abundance of talks."

Bucky sounded doubtful. "Really?"

"That's what happens when you have no parents and a bunch of aunts and uncles: nobody coordinates and everyone decides they need to give you The Talk."

"Really?" Steve asked, looking up at his team.

Tony looked at him, incredulous. "Wait, you actually sat down with him to talk about sex?"

"Obviously! I'm his father!"

"Yeah, but you're you," Clint pointed out.

"And from the '40s," Natasha added.

"Wait, so all of the Avengers individually decided to have that chat?" Gwen asked.

"Every. Damn. One," Peter growled. "Natasha did it first, mostly talking about STDs and pregnancy risks and all that a whole year before Mrs. Erickson's health class. Then there was Steve, that was awkward."

Tony barked a laugh. Steve turned red.

"Then there was Tony," Peter continued, "Who, thank God, kept it brief, but also said that if I ever had any questions, no matter how graphic, that I should go to him and not the internet. Thor, Rhodey, and Sam were around the same time. Clint's was my favorite. He just said there were two things I need to know about condoms: one, they suck. Two, if I don't use them, he'll kick the shit out of me."

Natasha snorted. Clint gave her a look. "What? It's true."

"Then Vision, who had been born all of a week ago, apparently had enough of JARVIS to want to make sure that I was receiving 'all the health education a modern teen needs,' which resulted in him e-mailing me a bunch of articles and then quizzing me on them. Even freaking Wanda wanted to make sure I'd been given The Talk when she saw me hang out with you and MJ, and she didn't know me at all. So trust me, Bucky, I know more about that crap than most health teachers, and I haven't even had sex yet!"

Bucky had gone from dubious to extremely amused. Gwen scraped the bottom of her yogurt. "Did you take Wanda up on that?"

"What, The Talk? No."

"Shame. She's a treasure trove."

Peter--and all the other Avengers--blinked. "She's barely older than we are."

"Treasure trove," Gwen repeated. "If she and Vision ever get together, he's going to be one happy man."

There was a pause while she discarded her empty yogurt container in the trash across the room. Peter looked puzzled. "Would that actually apply to Vision? I mean, does he even have any--wait, no, not going there."

Gwen stared at him. "Where you about to ask whether or not Vision has gen--"

"NO! No, I was not!"

While Gwen was laughing, Steve stole a look at Wanda and Vision. She was as red as Vision's skin, and he was pinching his eyes.

Back on the screen, Bucky looked torn between amused and confused. "Is it normal for people to think about the Avengers like that?"

"Oh, yeah," Gwen said. "Avenger shipping is a hallowed American tradition."

"'Shipping'?"

"Short for 'relationship.' Like, if you want two or more people to get together, you 'ship' them."

"MJ ships Clintasha hard," Peter muttered.

"It could be worse," Gwen said. "She could ship Stony like the rest of the planet."

"Stony?" Bucky asked.

"Steve and Tony."

"Romantically?"

"Yup."

"They just got out of Civil War!"

"All the better," Gwen said.

"Tell me nobody takes this seriously," Bucky pleaded.

"Most don't," she admitted. "But there are honestly some academics who do. Stucky is an honest to God historical theory."

"Stucky?"

"Steve and Bucky," Peter and Gwen said at the same time.

Bucky looked between the two of them. "I just threw up in my mouth a little bit."

"Don't Google it, or you'll throw up for real," Gwen warned.

"Jesus fucking..." He fled the room.

Peter and Gwen watched him go. Peter grinned. "Should we tell him about WinterIron?"

Tony choked. Steve, who had been stewing in his own mortification for the last five minutes, brightened.

The look on Gwen's face was like a mother who had just finished telling her child that Santa Claus wasn't real. "Oh...let him recovery from Stucky first."

Peter snickered. "Is it weird that I almost wish Stony was a real thing? Like, that would honestly make life a whole lot easier."

"What? No it wouldn't," Gwen said.

"Sure it would! Civil War wouldn't have happened."

She gave him a look. "Yeah, it would've. In fact, I'd argue that it would've been a whole lot worse."

"No, it wouldn't. You know why? Because then they would've actually been talking to each other. Steve wouldn't have felt like he had to choose between Tony and Bucky because he'd know that they'd both stand with him. Tony would know that Steve doesn't think of him like a loose canon or rabid dog that needs to be chained up, so he wouldn't have pushed for the Accords so hard. And even if he still saw them as necessary, he would've had a better shot at talking him into it, or at least some version of it. And Steve would've told him about his parents ages ago, which means Tony wouldn't have gone ballistic on Bucky, and the whole thing would've been over a lot faster."

"Just because you're sleeping with someone doesn't mean you're talking to them."

"It does if you're Steve. He's not a one-night-stand kind of guy."

"Can we please stop talking about this?" Bucky pleaded from the next room.

The two teens looked in his direction. Gwen whispered, "He totally is. Those USO girls..."

Peter shook his head. "He's way too much of a romantic."

"I can still hear you!" Bucky shouted.

"Oh, grow up!" Gwen ordered.

On the news, Captain America got thrown off a building.

Bucky came running back in the room. Peter and Gwen both paled.

They didn't relax even when Falcon caught the captain.

"The minute I'm cleared, I'm pushing to be on the Avengers," Bucky growled.

"Really?" Peter asked. "I thought you wouldn't want to touch that with a ten-foot pole."

"I don't. But this is a hundred times worse."

"You get used to it," Gwen sighed.

"Should you?"

She shrugged. "You go insane otherwise."

Bucky hummed, then turned to Peter. "What about you? You're more tense than I am."

Steve froze. The idea of Bucky on his side filled him joy, made the whole world seem right again. With Peter...

Peter hesitated. "Honestly, I don't know. When I was a kid that was all I wanted. Then I actually got in a villain's face, and it was terrifying. But it's like...I've got powers, and training, and if the world was ending I'd probably come running. And if I saw a mugger on the street..."

"Which has happened," Gwen muttered. "Twice."

"And I want to make the world a better place, but I'd prefer to go without the bruises and stitches. So...I don't know. They wouldn't allow it until I'm at least eighteen, anyway. And even then, they'd probably try to have Fury say no just on the whole 'adopted son' thing."

"Ya think?" Clint grumbled.

"There are other ways," Bucky agreed. "Police officer, for one."

Peter made a face. "Too much paperwork, not enough science."

"Forensic scientist?"

He shrugged. "No idea. And honestly, I'm not going to worry about it just yet."

Gwen phone beeped. She looked at it and sighed. "I've gotta go. The Curfew King summons me."

"Fight's winding down anyway," Bucky pointed out, nodding to the screen. Steve recognized that point in the battle; it was minutes before FRIDAY had been shut down.

The boys walked Gwen to the elevator. "Do you have that English paper done?" she asked.

"Ugh, no," Peter said. "I can't get five pages through that book without falling asleep. I'll probably just use SparkNotes."

She snorted. "It's not that bad."

"It's horrible! He somehow made a murder mystery with Satanists boring! Besides, it's obvious that it's the dad."

"Nope," Gwen said.

Peter paused. "Really?"

"Really. That was a red herring."

"...huh."

The elevator doors opened. Gwen took a few steps, then stopped. She tipped her head. "Harry?"

Harry Osborn was in the elevator. His face was perfectly blank, but when he saw Gwen, something like regret passed over it.

Then he pulled out the gun and fired.

Chapter Text

"What the shit?" Clint shrieked. Steve barely noticed the chair falling behind him as he shot to his feet.

Gwen hit the floor, choking on blood. Peter stood frozen behind her, too shocked to move even as Harry raised the gun to him.

The move was so fast the cameras barely caught it. One minute, Bucky was standing behind Peter, the next he'd dragged Peter across the hall through a door to shelter, the gun firing after him.

"The Tower should lock down," Tony said. "In three, two..."

Harry pulled something out of his pocket and pressed a button.

The cameras went black as the lights went out. Emergency lighting came on just in time for them to see Harry go to the stairs and tap the toe of his shoe on the floor. A hoverboard shot out of the soles of his shoes, assembled, and carried him down.

Tony sputtered. "How the hell did he get a hold of something like that?"

"What is it? An EMP?" Steve asked.

"Think EMP on steroids. It's a miracle the cameras were still recording. But it's why FRIDAY went completely haywire and interfered with the suits."

On screen, Bucky looked at Peter. "You hit?"

Peter was staring into space, his eyes glazed. "He killed Gwen."

"Peter."

"He just..."

"Peter!" Bucky snapped. "I need you to focus right now. I can't have you freaking out or crying on me, I need you pissed. Got it?"

Peter blinked. He looked at Bucky and his eyes snapped back to reality. He nodded. "Got it."

"Good. Now, he went to the stairs. Where would he go?"

After a moment of thought, Peter said, "Tony's lab is a few floors down. Come on."

Peter led the way to the stairs just as Harry made it to the lab. He put another piece of technology against the keypad. Steve couldn't keep track of them anymore, but this one apparently managed to undo the damage the first device had done, turning the electricity to the door back on, then hacking in. The door opened for him and he made a beeline for Peter's section of the lab. The device stayed on the keypad.

"Why isn't he taking anything?" Natasha muttered.

She had a point. Harry walked by at least five different weapons and even an arc reactor to get to Peter's part of the lab. Steve understood why when he got there: the whole section was protected by what Steve could only assume to be bulletproof glass.

"Added security for Peter?" he guessed.

Tony nodded. "Figured if the Tower ever got hit, he could have a safe spot. That glass is bulletproof, fireproof, supersoldier-proof..."

Bucky and Peter reached the level. Bucky put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Stay here."

Peter grabbed him. At first, Steve thought he was going to protest Bucky's order to stay out of the fight. Instead he pleaded, "Don't kill him."

Bucky paused. "Peter..."

"He's my friend!"

Bucky gave him a considering look, then nodded. "Fine."

Peter let him go. Bucky left the stairwell, then entered the lab.

Harry was safely in Peter's glass safehouse. Bucky sighed. "All right, kid. I don't know what's going on, but you did just murder someone and attack the Avengers' home base. Now, my first impulse was to shoot you. Peter talked me out of it. So come quietly, and we can talk."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, Barnes. That's not happening."

"Why not? Are you stuck? Whatever situation you're in, Steve can get you out of it."

"No, I'm just not a fan of freaks."

Wanda sputtered. Steve blinked. That was new.

Bucky sighed again. He sat on the edge of a nearby table. "Well, you're stuck in there until the Avengers come back and drag you out. So get comfortable."

"No thanks," Harry said. He pressed a button. The device on the keypad at the door beeped, and the doors slammed shut.

Peter heard the noise from the stairwell and jumped.

Harry started speaking Russian: "Тоска. Ржавый."

Bucky's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"Семнадцать. рассвет."

"Oh, no," Steve whimpered.

"Печь. Девять."

Bucky covered his ears. "Stop!"

"Bucky?" Peter left the stairwell and headed for the lab.

"Доброкачественные. Возвращение домой."

Bucky shook his head. "Harry, don't--"

"Один. Грузовой автомобиль."

Peter reached the lab. Harry pushed a button and the door opened, letting him in.

"Asset is ready for instruction," Bucky said in a dead voice.

Peter froze. "Oh, frick."

"Kill him," Harry ordered.

There were half a dozen weapons lying around in the lab. Bucky reached for the nearest one, what looked like a pistol upgrade for Black Widow.

A web shot out and attached to it before Bucky could reach it. Peter pulled it into his hand and unloaded it, the gun and cartridge flying in different directions.

"We're going to have words, Harry!" Peter snapped as Bucky charged.

What followed was one of the most intense fights Steve had ever seen. Peter had to use every single one of the tricks the Avengers had taught him just to keep ahead of Bucky, flipping and dodging and retreating to the walls and ceiling. Whenever Bucky had the chance, he grabbed a weapon, only for it to go flying out of his hands, caught by a web. If Peter had ever kept one of those guns and fired from the ceiling, the fight would've ended much sooner. But that would've killed Bucky.

Harry slipped away as soon as he could, using his hoverboard thing to fly out the window. Tony's order to FRIDAY to track him down barely registered in Steve's ears.

Finally, Peter snatched something from one of the tables. Steve couldn't see what it was as Peter couldn't dodge a punch from the Winter Soldier in time. The sound of the metal fist hitting his chest made everyone cringe. Peter went flying, slamming into the opposite wall.

He scrambled to his feet and rolled out of the way as Bucky came at him. Steve finally saw what it was he'd taken as he slapped it on his wrist. It looked like a...watch?

Until Peter pressed a button, and it turned into an Iron Man gauntlet.

Bucky swung with his metal hand again. Peter blocked it, his fist clamping down on Bucky's as he pressed the repulsor to his metal shoulder and fired.

The blast blew them both apart. The metal arm went flying, bits of scraps going everywhere. Bucky barely grunted. He recovered faster than Peter and clamped his remaining hand on the gauntlet, squeezing until Peter cried out and did something to deactivate it. Bucky grabbed him by the collar and threw him. Peter smashed into a table, then the floor. He slid himself across the floor, under the table, then kicked the table over for cover.

It was a mistake. One of the many things on that table was a pistol, which slid right to Bucky's feet.

Bucky picked up the pistol the same time Peter spotted something across the room that made his eyes light up. He ran, flipping over and under tables and robots as Bucky fired on him. Tony was counting the rounds: "Twelve bullets. Eleven. Ten. Nine."

Steve barely saw Peter's target: a quiver of arrows. Peter snatched one of the arrows and took cover behind a pillar.

"Eight. Seven. Six. Five."

He pressed a button on the arrowhead that made the whole thing light up. He turned, abandoning cover, and threw it the same time Bucky fired a shot.

"Four--shit!"

The arrow--which turned out to be a taser--hit Bucky full in the chest and sent him to the floor.

The bullet did the same for Peter.

Steve felt his heart stop when Peter hit the floor, blood blooming across his torso. Bucky was still wreathing on the ground, the taser absolutely merciless.

Peter blinked at the ceiling, then slowly turned onto his side. He poked at the bullet wound, and from this angle Steve could see the exit wound on his back. He carefully pulled himself to his feet and limped over to Bucky just as the taser started to give out.

Several yards of webbing later, and the Winter Soldier was safely ensconced in a cocoon.

"Okay," Peter huffed, leaning against one of the few tables that had remained upright. "That...I'm not even going to take credit for that. That was, like, 90% luck."

Bucky growled at him.

"You say that now, but you're going to be a mopey mess later." Peter shuffled through the workshop until he found what he was looking for and used it to scan himself.

"Is that the medical scanner from Star Trek?" Clint asked.

Tony shrugged. "I thought it'd be cool to have one."

"Not your worst idea," Vision muttered.

The scanner beeped at Peter. He read the results and nodded. "Okay. So, assuming this thing works--which, let's face it, Tony made it so it probably does--you got me through and through. No organs, arteries, or veins. So just make me one of those awesome pecan pies you made last week and we'll call it good, 'kay?"

Bucky growled again.

"Okay." Peter stripped off his shirt, wincing at the bloody mess of his abdomen, and made a bandage out of webbing.

He looked around the workshop, a confused wrinkled to his brow. "He didn't take anything." He looked at Bucky. "If you were a backstabbing jerk who'd just killed one of your childhood friends and tried to kill the other, what would you do next?"

Bucky offered no answer.

Peter went to the door and pried the device from the keypad. "Oscorp is pharmaceuticals, but I think I read somewhere that they're branching out in mechanics. And there's no way Harry could get any of that stuff--never mind your trigger words--without his dad's help."

"Call the police force," Thor grumbled.

As if he heard him, Peter pulled out his cell phone. Only to drop it. "Right. He blew out all the tech, including the phones."

He sighed and looked over the workshop again. This time, his eyes settled on the blue and red Falcon uniform.

Peter stared at it for a long moment.

Finally, he shook his head and turned away. "Nah."

He'd barely taken two steps before he groaned and turned right back around. "They're going to kill me for this."

Steve watched in growing horror as Peter stripped out of his pants and into the upgraded Falcon suit. It was very baggy and unflattering on him, hanging off of his skinny frame, until he pressed a button in the center. The whole thing snapped around his figure. He grabbed the matching goggles and face mask Steve could only assume was designed to keep the wind out of Sam's face. He was always complaining at how cold his ears got when he was in the air for too long.

Peter stayed in the workshop just long enough to drag Bucky into his section of the lab and lock him in. "In case you're still Frosty when SHIELD gets here, I don't want anyone trying to kill anyone. But if you manage to snap out of it, then feel free to join me at Oscorp. I'm going to have a chat with Norman Osborn." Peter found a pen and piece of paper, wrote Bad Soldier. No cookie. and stuck it on the glass door.

Then he left the workshop for the nearest window, pried it open, and with a whispered, "I've always wanted to do this," jumped out of the tower.

Chapter Text

"Anything?" Steve asked. He hadn't left the conference room, and there was a sizable dark streak in the carpet from where he'd been pacing back and forth.

Tony huffed. "I told you ten minutes ago: unless he activates the AI in that suit, no."

"You put an AI in the Falcon suit?" Clint asked, coming into the room after checking with his contacts (no leads).

"I thought it'd make it easier for him to use Redwing," Tony said defensively.

Clint pouted. "I want an AI in my suit."

Tony blinked, as if he was surprised someone liked the idea. He quickly recovered, using snark as a shield: "What the hell would you use it for?"

"I dunno. Cool stuff."

Tony shook his head and got back to work. He and Natasha had hacked into Oscorp HQ security, but hadn't seen hide nor hair of Peter. Steve had sent Vision to investigate in person, but he didn't think Peter had gone there. So either he'd gotten a lead elsewhere, or there was some other property Oscorp owned that he'd gone to. Wanda had gone to the Osborn household, and after checking with the neighbors reported that no one had been there in two days. They'd called Lang to ask for his help finding Bucky, who, according to the video feeds, had snapped out of the Winter Soldier programming half an hour before SHIELD had arrived and busted out of the Tower. With Lang's underground connections, he might hear something. Thor was patrolling from the skies, hoping to see Peter swinging from building to building, a fact that Steve was not going to think about because that sounded unbelievably dangerous.

"Harry's joined a lot of anti-super groups on social media," Natasha said. She had Harry's Facebook feed, Twitter, and email up on three different screens. Steve saw pictures from devastated Wakanda and Sokovia on there and winced.

"I'll go check them out," Clint said, grabbing his bow.

Seeing a perfect opportunity, Steve ordered, "Nat, go with him."

Once the two were gone, Steve and Tony were the only ones in the room.

Tony didn't notice, all of his attention on the screens in front of them as he tried to find a lead. Steve took a deep breath, looking for the right words.

He should've had this talk with Tony years ago. Probably before Ultron. What was it Peter had said? That if they'd actually been communicating, Steve "wouldn't have felt like he had to choose between Tony and Bucky," and that he would've told Tony about his parents earlier? Probably.

But what had really slapped Steve in the face was that bit about Tony. Iron Man was a little reckless, but Steve didn't think he was a loose canon, or a "rabid dog that needs to be chained up." Didn't Tony know that?

Apparently not. Because the more Steve thought about it, the more he realized that Tony really did believe that's what the team thought of him, that that's what the world thought of him. And Steve couldn't let that stand.

He'd failed as a leader. It was high time he made things right.

Realizing he couldn't plan this, Steve decided to just wing it. "Tony..."

"I'm sorry I attacked Barnes," Tony blurted.

Steve froze. Because what? Tony Stark never apologized!

"I know it wasn't his fault," he continued. "It was Hydra, he was brainwashed, blah blah blah...and he's your best friend. Hell, if you'd tried going after Rhodey I'd blow your head off with a repulsor and not even feel guilty about it. So, yeah. Sorry."

Steve blinked, then smiled, almost melting with relief. "You'd feel a little guilty."

Tony shrugged. His eyes were still locked on the computer screen.

Steve stepped up until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Tony. "And you never would have lashed out at Bucky if I hadn't been a coward and just told you about your parents."

Tony swallowed, and finally looked at him. For a moment, they said nothing. Then...

"We're not doing Stony, are we?"

Steve cringed. "Jesus, Tony!"

"Look, Cap, I love you, but I think we should just be friends..."

"You have no idea how to take an apology, do you?"

"...and look, whoever you end up with is going to be an incredibly lucky person."

"Stop. Talking."

"And who knows? That right person could be right around the corner. I heard about that smooch with Sharon Carter, and while she wouldn't be my first choice--"

Steve clamped his hand over Tony's mouth, unable to stop the smile. Tony kept talking, his words muffled. Steve waited for a break before he said, "I promise not to keep any major secrets like that from you again."

Tony stilled, silent because Steve was genuinely afraid of what might come tumbling out of his mouth this time if he removed his hand. He gave a single, jerky nod. Steve removed his hand.

"Boss?" FRIDAY said.

Both men jumped. Steve felt hope flare in his chest as Tony's head whipped toward the screens. "Did you find him?"

"No, Boss," she said. "But Dr. Banner just arrived. He'll be coming out of the elevator in three seconds."

Steve's jaw dropped. Neither of them moved until the ding of the elevator jolted them into awareness.

"Brucie-bear!" Tony cheered, running after the mousy man and swallowing him in a hug.

Bruce looked good. His clothes were wrinkled and hadn't been washed in a few days, and he could probably use a shower. But he'd been eating, and sleeping, and looked well enough. He gave a strained smile. "Hey."

"We thought you'd be halfway around the world," Steve said. He congratulated himself on keeping the accusation out of his voice. The memory of Peter crying in his arms because of Bruce's leaving was still fresh in his mind.

"I know," Bruce replied. "That's why I stayed. Figured this would be the last place anyone would look."

"So why are you back?"

His eyes hardened. "Peter's gone. I'm here to help. If you'll let me."

Steve's anger drained away. He nodded, turning to Tony...

And was surprised to see the man looking guilty.

Tony caught him staring and gave a nervous chuckled. His kept his arm firmly around Bruce's shoulders. "Eh-heh. Well, in the spirit of no longer keeping secrets from teammates..."

Steve's eyebrows shot up.

"...Bruce, there's something I need to show you."

Chapter Text

Bruce only stopped yelling at a red-faced Tony when Natasha and Clint got a lead. Then, when Black Widow arrived to report, he yelled at her, for coming up with the "lullaby" excuse.

Neither of them fought the scolding. After all, they had lied about the fact that Peter put himself directly in the Hulk's path during his second kidnapping, when he was thirteen. Bruce had deserved to know, and probably the other Avengers, too. Maybe he wouldn't have left during the Ultron fiasco if he had.

Finally, Bruce ran out of breath. He turned to Steve, who had been leaning against the wall the entire time. "Anything you want to add?"

"I'm saving my steam for Peter," he said. Even if it had been to save a life, the thought of his Peter planting himself in front of the Hulk almost made Steve vomit.

"He'll be at the docks," Natasha said.

They all turned to her. "What?" Steve demanded.

"Harry joined those anti-mutant and anti-Avengers groups as a smoke screen, to make us think this was a pure hate crime. But it wasn't. Not entirely. My contacts have told me that Oscorp has created a knock-off supersoldier serum and will be selling it to the highest bidder tonight."

Steve's stomach twisted. Tony rubbed his eyes. "Then why attack the Tower?"

"My guess: another smoke screen. If Oscorp's serum hits the black market, it's only a matter of time before it's traced back to them. If, however, Peter had been murdered by the Winter Soldier who was being manipulated as part of a hate crime, we would have been far too distracted and divided to focus on anything else," she said. "It would have bought Oscorp time to secure its funding and bury any evidence."

Steve nodded. "To the docks, then. Avengers assemble."

--

The docks were a veritable jungle of crates and cranes. It would have taken over an hour to locate the Oscorps without Iron Man's heat sensors. All of the Avengers were there, with the exception of Bruce, who was staying back unless they called a Code Green. The dealers looked to be...Steve honestly couldn't tell. Mafia? Russian government? Hydra? All he knew was that there was a lot of them and they were rich enough to own a small barge, where Oscorp men were loading boxes of the serum.

Boxes of it, Jesus Christ.

From the shadows, Steve could see Harry and Norman Osborn. Harry looked...normal. Not at all like he'd killed his friend a few hours ago. His hands were in his jean pockets as he watched the men work with a bored expression.

His father was a different matter entirely. Steve had only met Norman twice, both very briefly, but both times the man had seemed calm and collected. This time, though, he was...twitchy. Something was off as he talked to the head tradesman.

"We agreed on one billion dollars, Benson," Osborn said.

Benson shrugged. "And I have yet to see if this works in person. You've only sent videos. Videos can be altered. You get five hundred million until--"

Osborn cut him off with a hand to his throat, and lifted him two feet in the air. All activity around them froze, all of Benson's men pointing their guns at the pair.

Osborn gave a twisted grin. "Proof enough for you? I tested it on myself."

Benson coughed. "One--one billion..."

"Excellent!" Osborn dropped him. Benson staggered, but managed to keep his feet. Harry still looked bored.

"Well, this is just all kinds of screwed up," Clint said over the coms.

Steve had seen enough. But just as he was about to give the order, Harry yelped and was yanked back.

By a web.

Steve, Osborn, Benson, and all the others followed the web and Harry's cursing until they landed on Peter, who was standing on one of the highest stacks of crates, holding Harry up by the shirt. With the suit that covered every inch of him except his mouth, he looked like a crimson Batman. "Don't worry guys! You can get back to your super-secret club meeting. I just need to borrow my friend for a sec."

Harry twisted in Peter's grip and kicked him in the ribs, hard enough that Peter staggered back and dropped him. Harry fell, activated his hoverboard, and flew right back. He charged at Peter and threw a punch. Peter ducked, and Harry's fist hit the metal crate behind his head. The metal bent under Harry's strength.

Peter sputtered. "Dude! Since when did you get super-strength and why didn't you tell me? I thought we were buddies."

"Shut up!" Harry spat. "You don't deserve powers, not if you're going to use them."

"NOW!" Steve ordered, and all hell broke loose.

Wanda used his powers to incapacitate a dozen goons. Clint's arrows went everywhere. Natasha took on Benson. Tony swooped down and handled the other dozen goons. Steve charged Osborn.

Osborn matched Steve's attacks blow-for-blow, grinning all the while. He even laughed. "Now this is a test!"

After a few minutes, they both pushed off of each other, circling, trying to find a weakness. Osborn pulled something from his pocket and threw it at Steve's feet before running.

At first, Steve thought it was one of those mini-pumpkins you could get at Target.

And then it started beeping.

He threw his shield on it just as the oddly-shaped grenade exploded. He looked up to see Osborn running. Almost all the henchmen down. Harry and Peter were still fighting, flying through the air on webs and boards.

"Hawkeye, get Osborn," Steve coughed, standing.

"On it."

Harry was chasing Peter around the cranes. Fifty feet up, sixty feet up, seventy feet up... Peter managed to take a sharp turn, swinging around a crane and kicking Harry in the chest with both feet. It hit the teen with enough force to separate him from his board, and then they were both falling.

Before Steve could shout for Iron Man, Peter shot out another web at one of the upper cranes. He hit it, they swung, and as they swooped down he dropped Harry right at Steve's feet.

Steve jumped on him, securing the boy with his arms behind his back. Even enhanced, he couldn't wiggle his way out of the grasp. Tony flew down and handed Steve a pair of adamantium cuffs.

"Got Osborn," Clint reported. "Asshole almost blew me up with pumpkins..."

"Everyone else is secure here," Wanda said.

Steve got to his feet and pulled Harry up. He looked around. "Where's Peter?"

As if summoned, Peter swung over and landed. Steve slumped in relief, and was about to hug him, check him for injuries, make sure he was okay.

Peter blew right past him, grabbed Harry, and shoved him against a crate. He yanked his mask back so they could all see how furious he way. "Why Gwen?" he demanded.

Harry shrugged, looking bored again. "Casualty."

Peter pulled him back and shoved him back into the crate. Steve winced. Iron Man's shoulders stiffened, like he was two seconds away from prying them apart.

"But why?" Peter snarled.

And something in Harry visibly snapped, because he shrieked, "It was supposed to be you, you idiot!"

Peter reeled back as if struck.

"The plan was to activate the Soldier and order him to kill you so the Avengers would be distracted. But he wasn't at the compound, and then Gwen was there..." He shrugged again. "I couldn't have any witnesses."

Peter pushed away from him with disgust, pushing past the Avengers who had gathered. "Do whatever you want with him," he snapped.

Wanda looked downright cheery at that prospect. Steve shut that down and had Tony call the Feds. Then went after his son.

--

Peter had always needed space to clear his head. Whenever he was overwhelmed, or stressed, or angry, Steve and the others had found it was always best to get him outside so he could get some fresh air and run around, get some distance to get some perspective.

So the Avengers weren't exactly surprised--just annoyed and worried--when Peter used his webs to swing through the city, miles and miles of it, until he was perched on a rooftop, legs swinging over the edge.

Steve had Tony give him a ride, and they both landed behind Peter, who didn't even blink. He'd removed the mask. Steve did the same and Tony completely ditched the suit, and they sat on either side of him. Neither of them said anything. Steve put his arm around the boy's shoulders and just held him, listening to him breathe.

"I just don't get it," Peter said at least, breaking the silence. "Gwen never cared if we had powers or not, or if we were rich or poor. If you were a jerk, she kicked you in the balls, and if you were good then you were her friend. She was loyal. I thought Harry was, too."

Steve tightened his grip. "Sometimes, people change. And you don't even realize it until they're a completely different person."

"And sometimes bad shit happens and you can't do anything about it," Tony added.

Peter leaned into them, eyes wet. "But she didn't deserve that. And Bucky didn't either and I just don't get why..."

There wasn't anything to say to that. They just kept holding him until the tears stopped, watching the sun set over the city.