#this unfortunately will not happen (and probs neither will the moment when Bruce comes back and Dick thinks he's killed a man)

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Protecting the Spiderling

Okay, this is new for me. It’s only, like, the 2nd MCU fic I’ve written, and it’s the first Peter fic I’ve done. So be nice, ya? I might make this into a series. I kind of had other plans for it, other things I wanted to explore and I think it would be fairly easy to continue, but we’ll see what happens. This is also one of my longest stories, and it’s probs not very good, as I wrote the first half while working a shift at the call center, so I was a little distracted.

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“…Peter?” What are you doing on the ceiling?”

           Somehow, Peter had been so distracted that he didn’t hear Bucky approach. Of course, like an idiot, he crashed to the ground. Unfortunately, Sam had walked in with Bucky and had witnessed the fall. E immediately started up with the insults and teasing jokes.

           Peter flushed. He knew they didn’t mean it (he was pretty sure at least) but that absolutely didn’t make him feel better. But hey. That was just him being too sensitive, right? He could work through that, no problem.

           “Awww,” Sam cooed mockingly. “Was our little spider-baby too busy playing with his toys to hear us coming?”

           …It was weird how Peter had heard similar comments from Tony, yet this was far more insulting. How did he make his voice so scathing? And why did an Avenger, of all people, remind him of high school bullies?

           Clint walked up behind Sam and Bucky, cackling loudly. “Oh, you should see your face!” Somehow, Peter managed to turn even redder, even as Natasha entered the room and glanced up at the ceiling coolly, lips pursed in displeasure. Peter couldn’t help but freeze when her eyes fell on him.

           “What are you doing?” The ice in her voice was enough to send a weak Spidey-sense tingle down his spine.

           And he immediately felt guilty.

           No way would the Avengers attack or try to hurt him! He was just a kid. Plus, he was at least 57% sure doing so would bring Tony’s wrath down on them. It was his Tower, anyway.

           And oops, Natasha was still waiting for a response. Clint and Sam had resumed their giggles, and even Bucky’s lips were starting to curl upwards.

           “Uhhh… homework?” Natasha’s eyebrow only lifted her and Sam and Clint abruptly shut up. And now his Spidey-sense was going off for real.

           Peter tried to keep an eye on Bucky. If anyone attacked, he would be the biggest threat. He tired to convince himself that they wouldn’t, but years of being bullied by Flash and his friends had taught him otherwise.

           “On the ceiling?” Natasha’s tone was dangerous. Clint and Sam took a step towards him. Peter shifted his foot, prepared to make a getaway if necessary. Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

           “Well, I just—I mean. Tony, Mr. Stark, I mean, never said I – I just. I’m not in anybody’s way that way, so I thought I could—” he felt a shift in the air above him and quickly snatched a falling textbook out of the air. More fell, and in the midst of trying to save his downed homework and laptop, he saw Clint easily shooting them all down. A surge of anger welled up inside him, but the wave of insecurity that followed closely behind overshadowed it. Bucky watched with cold indifference, while Sam was giggling, and Clint was sporting a s mug smirk. A couple of is arrows “strayed” (or so Clint claimed, but everyone knew that was impossible) and shredded through Peter’s newly-finished worksheets and a couple of essays.

           Bucky watched in silent fascination as Peter’s expression shuttered closed. There was a prickle of guilt that he tried to ignore, but it proved difficult when he noticed the kid’s eyes were glinting with tears. And anger. It was incredible to watch how, even in the middle of a rush to save papers and books, the kid processed through his emotions. First came the horror at what was happening, accompanied with the anger. But there was also a hint of guilt and insecurity. Eventually, Clint ran out of arrows. The attack truly didn’t last long, and Peter was able to save everything except for the shredded homework. Looking at the tatters of paper littering the floor, Bucky realized it was probably a lost cause for those assignments. But… No one else seemed concerned, except for Peter. He was staring at the floor, too, blinking rapidly. Bucky shook his head. Whatever, the kid was smart, he would be fine. Probably wouldn’t take him long at all to redo the assignments.

           Finally, Peter glanced back up. “I’m sorry.”

           …What did he say? Hell, even Sam and Clint looked gob-smacked at that one. The kid didn’t really seem to notice, just slowly and carefully collected his books and gathered them into his backpack. Bucky hadn’t ever noticed before, but as he watched Peter stack the books in, he realized the bag was bulging in an attempt to fit them all. The spider-boy avoided their eyes as he continued, “I honestly didn’t realize I was in anyone’s way. I like to spread everything out, and the table…”

           Bucky had a flash of Bruce’s work and research, drafts for reports and for a new book, all scattered on the table. There wouldn’t have been any room for the kid to study there, not to mention that Bruce had been feeling on edge and aggravated lately, and would have preferred the quiet. Bucky could relate.

           “—didn’t want to bother him, but I couldn’t just spread out on the floor, who knows who I could’ve bothered with that? It would be so inconvenient and I didn’t want—” Sam interrupted rudely. “Why didn’t you just stay in your room then?” Bucky was taken aback by the aggressive tone. It seemed the kid was, too, since he just stared at him owlishly for a moment, backpack handle clenched tightly in his hand. He glanced to both Bucky and Natasha, perhaps hoping for intervention or even assistance, but neither moved. They simply waited for an answer.

           The kid’s shoulders slumped. “I. I didn’t want…” he faded off into a mumble, but Clint was merciless. “Speak up, baby, we can’t understand mumbling.” Bucky cringed inwardly at the harshness directed at the miserable teenager.

           “I didn’t… I didn’t want to be alone.” And though his voice grew quieter towards the end of the statement, the four of them were still able to hear it. Bucky felt himself grow sick when he caught the gleeful looks Sam and Clint were exchanging. Natasha scoffed and left the room. Peter looked resigned, but he still refused to let the tears fall.

           “Awww is poor wittle Petey afraid of being alone?”

           “You afraid of the dark, too, kid?”

           “What kind of superhero needs someone around in order to feel safe?”

           “Are you always gonna rely on others to protect you?”

           Bucky paid little attention to the petty morons choosing to instead focus on whatever Peter was gonna do next. At first, he just stood there. His fist was clenching the handle, tensing and loosening rhythmically. His head was bowed forward, but Bucky still didn’t think he was crying. Not yet. His shoulders and jaw were tense, his stance rigid. When their words received no further reaction, Sam and Clint fell silent. And that’s when Peter lifted his head.

           He still looked so soft. So bright and hopeful. There was a hardness in his eyes, but it had also given way to insecurity and guilt. Bucky held his breath, somehow knowing he wasn’t going to like what came next.

           “I really am sorry, guys. I didn’t realize I would still be in everyone’s way. I’ll just…” Peter hesitated, and yep, Bucky was absolutely going to hate this. “I’ll just stay in my room. Um.” Peter glanced again at the ruined homework around his feet. “If it’s not a bother, and if Mr. Stark asks, could you tell him I’m just gonna study and then… and then go to bed early? I’m not… I’m not feeling too good.” And despite the brightness in his eyes, it was obvious that the smile he shot at them was fake and forced. Before Bucky could say anything or stop him, the kid had vanished, presumably to go hide in his room.

           Immediately, Clint and Sam began complaining about the mess left in the room, debating calling the kid back and demanding he clean it up, or calling Tony in there to report what his “star child” did, using the mess as evidence. Bucky took two steps forward, knelt, and began gathering the remains himself. When the other two dared to complain at him, he merely glared at them. He wasn’t too bothered when the look led to them ditching their previous plans of a movie in favor of going out to eat instead. He was too busy staring at the tidy scrawl visible on the papers, trying to work out what Peter had been working on. From the looks of it, one of the assignments at least was on WWII. Bucky smiled to himself.

           That was an easy enough fix, he told himself. He stood and dusted himself off, intending to find Stevie and then visit the spider-kid in his room. Once they redid that assignment, maybe they could figure out something to help the kid with the other assignments.