#realtor on the phone today: alright girl. how's it going over there young lady.

[whoslaurapalmer]

i should go to bed it is Time to go to bed and yet. i am looking around the house going what else can i put in a box before i go to bed

[sdottkrames]

The World was Wide Enough

@comfortember prompt 8: lashing out 

Summary: Peter finds out about Siberia. He’s not very happy about the way Captain America treated his dad mentor. So when he gets hurt on patrol and it’s Cap who comes to help him? Some words are said.

Notes: I’ve had this idea in my head for a long long time, and finally worked up the nerve to do it. I hope y’all like it! 

Also, I do NOT hate Steve. I hated Civil War and how they portrayed Tony with a passion, but I adore Steve Rogers with all my heart. Mkay?

Read on AO3: Here

Peter hadn’t meant to hear. He was simply walking by and heard Tony’s voice. He sounded agitated and Peter had just wanted to see if he was okay.

“Listen, guys, I appreciate you apologizing, but what’s done is done. Give it a rest.” Tony said.

“I just...I’m sorry, Tony.” That was Steve. What were they talking about?

“I am as well. Tony, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they were your parents,” Bucky said.

Now Peter was feeling guilty standing there. He definitely wasn’t supposed to hear this conversation. But like a train wreck, he couldn’t look away.

“Barnes, it was mind control. I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends, but I don’t want to kill you anymore, so it’s a start, alright? Here.” Tony pressed a button and a video pulled onto screen. It played for a second, the sounds of fighting filling Peter’s ears. It took a moment to register that it was Tony and Steve and Bucky fighting. Tony paused the video and clicked delete, but not before it showed Steve drive his shield into Tony’s chest. “There. I’ve been meaning to do that. It’s cathartic, you know. Miracle of forgiveness and all that. Now go. And stop apologizing. We’re cool.”

But Peter was anything but.

His ears were still ringing with the clank of a shield slamming into an arc realtor, his eyes so full of Tony’s scarred, crumpled body, too similar to another scarred, crumpled body from years earlier. 

Steve and Bucky turned towards the door, meeting Peter’s eyes, and realizing for the first time that he was there. They’d never seen the normally mild, kind boy look so angry. Their hearts dropped as they realized just what he had seen, how it looked, how it had made him feel.

“How. Dare. You,” Peter spit out before turning on his heel without a second glance behind him at the others who were staring at his retreating back in shock.

***

Peter flipped over the gate at the front of the school, and rushed into a nearby alleyway to change into his Spider-Man suit. The feeling of the suit instantly calmed his anxious energy.

Gosh, he loved being Spider-Man, especially when it allowed him to avoid thinking.

Peter had been avoiding Captain America ever since accidentally seeing the video a few weeks ago, when his world had been shattered. The kind Cap who had taught him how to cook and made him laugh with funny stories had morphed into a cold, heartless man who had nearly killed Tony. Tony might’ve forgiven Cap, but he’d had five years to work that out. Peter was still angry.

Realizing he had worked himself up again with his train of thought, Peter firmly yanked his mask over his head to focus on being Spider-Man.

“Good afternoon, Peter.”

“Hey Karen,” Peter said, grateful for the distraction and friendly voice. “Whatcha got for me today?”

“There’s a robbery happening at that electronics store on 69th street,” she answered.

“Lead the way!” Peter shot a web and followed the route Karen projected to him. 

It was a routine, even simple job. Two shots of his web, a couple trademark snappy one-liners, and Peter was out of there. He’d even gotten some free headphones from the store owner.

Then he’d helped a young girl find her mom, rescued a dog that had fallen down a storm drain (the dog’s name was Mina, and she was very cute. Mina’s owner had been beyond grateful), and stopped three different muggings. Overall, it had been a pretty awesome night. Peter was just about to head home when everything went south.

“Peter, there appears to be a lady in distress in an alleyway between 75 and 76th streets,” Karen said. “Would you like me to direct you there?”

“Yeah. I’ll go help, then let the police handle any more situations.”

He should’ve just gone home.

Peter got a few good webs in. He surprised the two muggers, and the lady used his entrance as a chance to grab her purse and run away. 

“I’d say see you around, but I honestly hope I won’t,” he quipped to the men stuck on the wall. He was about to shoot a web to swing out and let the police take care of the two criminals, but stopped as a tingle raced down his spine. It was too late. Before he could move, a gunshot tore through the alleyway.

Instantly, pain exploded in Peter’s right shoulder. He turned to see the gunman, a nondescript man wearing a hat to shadow his face. Peter forced back the nausea and pain to web him up next to his friends. 

“Shooting people in the back? Not cool man,” he said, gritting his teeth and swinging to the top of a nearby building before collapsing against the wall. “Karen,” he gasped. “Call Tony!”

Peter was starting to see spots. He could feel the blood coming from his shoulder and the pain was radiating all over.

“Pete!” Friday must have alerted him already, because Tony's voice was frantic. “Hang on, buddy. I’m coming, okay? Just sit tight. I’m on my way!”

“It hurts.”

“I know. I know. Just hang on.”

Tony's panicked voice was interrupted by another one, equally as panicked. 

“Peter?” Steve Rogers stood on the rooftop, staring in shock and worry at the boy slumped against the wall.

“Is that Steve?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Wait, no, Pete!” Tony called, but Peter had already hung up.

“What’re you doing here?” Peter glared at Steve, the anger seeping in and turning his voice into daggers.

“I was out following a lead on a hydra base when I got a notification from Friday saying you were hurt and I-“

“You what?” Peter asked harshly. “Thought that you’d play hero and I’d just forget about the fact that you never cared about me, or about Tony!” Peter was crying now, and he thoughtlessly tried to wipe the tears away, but cried out as the movement made a sharp stab of pain shoot through his whole body. The pain became too much, and Peter started slipping into darkness. Steve’s frantic face was the last thing he saw before he was totally unconscious.

***

“-wouldn’t let me anywhere near him. Tony, I need you to know that I’m sorry. I never meant for a rift like that to happen.”

Peter heard Tony sigh, heard the rustle as he ran his hands through his hair. “Listen, capsicle, I know. We’ve put that behind us. I’ll talk to the kid. He just...he lost his dad and his uncle before, and I think he’s a little protective. He’ll come around, though. He won’t admit it cause he’s nearly as stubborn as I was at his age, but I can tell he misses you.”

“Okay.” Steve sounded dejected, and Peter’s head and heart declared war. 

On the one hand, it killed Peter to hear the man he’d admired for so long sound so dejected and to know that he was the cause of Steve’s distress. He never wanted to hurt anybody, let alone one of his heroes who had become family. 

On the other, Peter’s head was holding tenaciously to his absolute loyalty to Tony, and the anger and hurt he felt that Steve, his “uncle” Steve, his hero had nearly killed his dad. Because, honestly, wasn’t that what Tony was at this point? There was no use denying it anymore. And Peter just couldn’t lose another father.

As he battled within himself, he heard Steve leave, and Tony came and sat in the chair beside his bed. 

“I know you’re awake.”

Shoot. 

“Playing dead isn’t going to stop this conversation from happening, Peter.”

He opened his eyes.

“Yeah, hi. First off, how are you feeling?” Tony's voice softened.

“Hurts, but I’m feeling better,” Peter said, wincing as he shifted into a more upright position.

“Careful there,” Tony fussed. “Don’t pop a stitch. Cho says you are incredibly lucky. The bullet hit just the right spot to miss the bones and arteries, so you should be alright in, oh, a day or two.”

“Okay.”

“Second, that's for scaring me!” Tony hit the back of Peter's head gently. “And third,” Peter looked away, but Tony gently pulled his face back to look into his eyes. His voice was incredibly gentle. “You need to let it go with Cap, okay? The guy’s apologized about 30 times to me, and i know he’s only refrained from apologizing to you because he doesn’t have a phone and you’ve been avoiding him like the plague.”

Peter couldn’t deny it. 

“I’ve forgiven him, okay?” Tony continued. “Now, and I know it’ll take some time, and you are entitled to that time, but now you need to forgive him, too. I wasted too much time holding onto anger and grudges. I don’t want you to go through that.”

Peter felt the tears running down his cheeks, leaving a scalding trail, and Tony gently wiped them. Peter gave a small nod. 

“Okay, Tony.”

A noise from the doorway made both of them look up. Steve was standing there, looking unsure of himself as he shuffled from one foot to the other.

Shooting Peter a look, Tony stood up. “I’m going to go get some coffee. I’ll be back in a little bit.” He patted Steve’s shoulder as he left, and gently pushed him towards the bed.

Peter was suddenly very interested in the plain blue hospital sheets that had been there for years, and he picked at them for a couple heavy seconds before taking a breath.

“You can come in and sit down, Steve,” he said softly.

“Thanks.”

The chair squeaked as Steve sat down, and for some reason, it made Peter smile. He looked at Steve and saw a matching smile forming in response on the older hero’s face. At the small, mundane moment, something unlocked inside Peter.

It’s said that a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step, or that forever is made up of tiny moments. That tiny moment was the first step, and Peter took a breath as he began to let go of the anger he’d been holding on to for weeks and let himself face it.

“Listen, Steve, I should’ve come and talked to you before. I was just so angry, and afraid.”

“I understand.” Steve’s voice was so soft and gentle, and Peter felt the last of the fight leave him. “I know that you lost your father and your uncle, and it kills me to know that I was almost the reason you lost another one. I’m so sorry.”

Peter measured his next words carefully, searching himself to make sure he really meant them. “I forgive you. I forgive you, Steve. If you and Tony are good, then we’re good.” Peter hesitated. “Or we will be. I mean, I’d like to try. If you can forgive me, too?”

Steve didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do, Pete. And I’d like to try, as well. I’ve missed our cooking classes.” 

Peter smiled, and ever so carefully moved over a little. He patted the bed next to him and Steve, eyes as big as saucers, climbed in slowly, mindful not to jostle Peter’s wound. Peter leaned into his side.

“I’ve missed you, too, Uncle Steve.”

Tears filled Steve’s eyes at the name, which he hadn’t heard for weeks. His heart swelled, knowing they really were on the way to forgiveness. 

Soon, Peter was snoring softly, the pain and medication dragging him back into unconsciousness quickly. Steve was trapped, immobilized by the common knowledge that one does not move when a puppy (or would Peter be more of a kitten?) falls asleep on you. But Steve didn’t mind. He was just grateful to have his nephew back again.