Soooooooooo... NEW FIC! Or at least, the ever first fic I've had the guts to write in this fandom. And it was all thanks to the Amazing... wait forr it... Harry Osborn ladies and gents! I've always been a huge Dane Deehan fan ever since "The Chronicle" and oh gosh, his pain... why is his pain so tragic and beautiful? *is shooed* Does that make me a sadist? Nah. So yes, not-so-closeted Superfamily fangirl here and a huge Superhusbands supporter, no matter if people call it cliche and trite these days. *cocks gun* Them motherfucking haters better stay away. Alright! *cracks knuckles* Per usual disclaimer. Peter, Steve, Tony and Harry all belong to me and Marvel can't do shit about it. Hey, a girl can dream, right? *shrugs* Also, there be Parksborn, obviously. It's the whole point! HOMONESS abound so to the a-holes who think of coming in here and spreading their hate and bigotry, go away you nerds. You will be ignored.
A couple of things. The Avengers are set in 616!Time line (that's in the comics, 90's people) but with the MCU characters, and Tony was in his late twenties when they found Cap in the Artic. For the sake of the story, let's say they were all fairly young when the Avengers first came about. No Loki/Chitauri invasion, but they still know him as Thor's brother who visits sometimes and pranks them (practising his magic more like and having a kick out of it) like the trickster he is. Bucky was still affiliated with the Soviet as the Winter Soldier and rescued, and no HYDRA-BEHIND-EVERYTHING plot point.
Anywho, I'm hoping you guys (my fellow fans) would enjoy this story as much as I did when writing the idea down :D ENJOY!
Chapter 1: Remember When We Never Looked Back
Steve's in the middle of setting up the table, dinner ready and piping hot when Peter arrives.
The door opens with a light creak. Peter shuffles in, dragging his weight, shoulders slumped. His face is downturned, looking far too despondent and worry immediately niggles at Steve's heart. The boy sighs and lifts his gaze. Peter's brown eyes, so much like Tony's brighten almost instantly, lips spreading into a wide smile and Steve just about melts at the endearing sight of his darling boy. "Hey, Peter. Just in time, I'm almost done preparing supper."
"Uncle Steve!" Peter exclaims, dropping his backpack as he walks, almost jogs into the dining room.
Steve's just about finished pouring the soup onto a bowl when he's suddenly got an armful of five foot ten, enthusiastic teenager. "Woah, Pete. Good to see you too." Steve laughs as the boy practically snowballs into him, his strong arms wrapping around Peter's slighter frame to embrace his boy fully. "Missed you, bud."
"I missed you too." Peter says, voice suspiciously tight as he burrows his face onto Steve's neck. He doesn't seem very interested in letting go anytime soon, which Steve is normally on board with, but then he notices Peter's shaking and Steve soon hears the beginnings of a sniffle. Steve's worry shoots through the roof. The last time Peter hugged him this tight, this desperate was when Ben died. He knows from experience that whatever it is that's bothering the boy, it is big, and hits too close to the heart.
"Hey, what's wrong?" The blonde asks gently, carefully extracting Peter from the fierce hug so he can look at him properly. Steve feels as if a knife has lodged itself into his chest cavity as soon as he sees the tears misting Peter's eyes. His thumb come up instantly to brush a single tear just as it rolls down, shushing the teen softly when his expression completely crumples. "Peter, son. Hey, hey, what happened?"
Peter hastily wipes the dampness from his eyes, looking around. "Where's Aunt May?"
"She's doing double shifts at the hospital. She called and asked if it would be okay for me to stop by and accompany you." Steve replies, hand coming up to curl around the boy's bicep. "She said she's not going to be able to come home tonight."
"Oh." Peter says, sullen, then promptly closes off.
Steve steers him to one of the empty chairs and fetches him a glass of water. Peter downs the offered water in quick, short gulps. Afterwards, he sags against the chair as if all his strength has deserted him. Steve looks on worriedly for a good minute or two, allowing Peter a moment to himself, until he's ready to talk. When he opens up again, it is Harry Osborn's name, Norman's son, that comes out of his mouth.
"So he's back." Steve states, confusion evident in the pursing of his lips. Peter's reaction doesn't make any sense. Norman's kid has been, still is (if Tony's surveillance of their boy from the past two days was anything to go by) his son's best friend. One would think he'd be ecstatic with the boy's return. "But, shouldn't that be good news? Did you meet with him?"
Peter nods, tears welling up again, but looking plenty determined to not let a single tear fall.
"He's dying." Peter chokes out as Steve tries fight down the urge to encase him in his arms and chase away the hurt.
"Oh, Peter." He breathes, blue eyes pained. "I'm so sorry."
"He has this disease, genetic he said, that's killing him." Peter reveals, the absolute helplessness in his voice just about doing Steve in. "He asked for my help, and I said I'd try, but I honestly… I don't know how to help him." He lets out a shuddery exhale, pulls his legs up against his chest and rests his chin atop his knees. "He called me earlier. He said he thinks I could help. When I went there, he made me watch a video that Mr. Osborn left for him. Turns out my dad was working with his dad in hopes to finding a cure. Radioactive spiders. Self heal. Harry said, it was the same stuff that made Spiderman the way he is. He said, fourteen years, and nothing to show for it except him… her." Peter trails off, shoulders hunching further inward almost like he wants to curl into a fetal position. He tilts his head, brown eyes hurting directed at Steve.
Steve nods encouragingly, though feeling like he's one breath from tucking Peter against his chest like he was four again.
"I took a picture of the guy." Peter resumes, wiping fervently at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "And he thinks I could arrange a meeting with Spiderman. He… he wants his blood. I told him about what happened with Doctor Connors. That I worked closely with him before, but he wouldn't listen. I can't… I don't want Harry ending up… what if I by some miracle get a hold of Spiderman's blood? What if it doesn't work and he turns into something else like Doctor Connors? Uncle Steve, I can't… I don't want Spiderman having no choice but to kill Harry." He shakes his head, looking increasingly distraught again. "I can't."
Steve did not dare interrupt as Peter recounted what happened earlier that day, and as he listened, he felt the desperation to save a friend, so palpable was Peter's grief at the thought of Harry Osborn turning into something less than human, he practically vibrated with it.
"We'll find a way." Steve says eventually, voice determined as he grasps Peter's hand in his, reaching out to hold him by the back of his neck and pulling him forward until their foreheads rest together. He's not going to stand idle while his son's hurting when there's a possibility, a chance that he can help. "I'll find a way, alright? We… your Uncle Tony… he knows people. I'll be sure to tell him, draw up a list of names and see what we can do." Steve assures, and the glimmer of hope in his son's eyes at his words further resolve the determination tenfold.
"You'd do that?" The sheer disbelief and hope in Peter's voice twists the knife further in Steve's chest, reminding him for the hundredth time how his help, or Tony's help is not something that Peter believes they'd willingly and unconditionally give to him.
Like a parent's love to their child.
As far as the kid knows, Steve and Tony were friends with his mother and father. That they were his godfathers. Yet despite how much they tried to be the best damn godfathers in the planet, to Peter they were still not family. Ben and May are his family.
To him the Parkers are of his blood.
He doesn't know that it was Steve that had carried him for whole nine months, has no clue that even though he hadn't been exactly part of the plan when that spell hit Steve, and Tony couldn't pass up the chance to know what it was like to sleep with him in that female form, resulting in Peter getting conceived, he was so far from being a mistake.
They might have had their reservations during those times, unclear, unsure on how to deal with the sudden reality of having a baby, months spent freaking out what if they failed at this parenting thing, what if their baby didn't like them, all washed away, deemed irrelevant when Peter was finally brought to the world. All the insecurities, uncertainties, worries mainly about what if he came out as sickly as Steve had been before the serum disappeared. What only mattered was he was there. And he was healthy, whole, and theirs. That was, until the enemies of the Avengers found out about him, set their sights on their son, who at that time was but only two months old, so tiny, so easily hurt, they had to think of a surefire way to keep him safe, keep him as far away as possible from their enemies' radar.
Steve resolutely shakes the bitterness creeping in. It isn't the time to wallow in the memories of the past, of the crippling misery that was having to give him up. "Of course, bud." he replies, conviction heavy in his tone, running gentle fingers through his hair. "Tony and I… we love you, you know that. We'd do anything for you."
A smile full of gratitude blossoms on Peter's face, gaze softening. "I do. And well... I love you guys too." He chuckles, sheepish, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
Steve kisses his forehead lovingly, then sends him a reassuring, warm smile. "It's going to be okay. We'll work it out."
No one whose identity was a secret wanted to get registered, to have their personal lives and loved ones exposed and exploited.
People just couldn't seem to understand the concept of the mask.
After the SHRA was introduced and flopped when the superhero community came to a united decision to publicly give up the superhero gig, the Avengers, alongside SHIELD initiated a hero program that was geared towards stealth and basically getting shit done with the least minimal exposure. The organization already worked in the shadows for a start, and was already considered official authority, so it wasn't that big a leap from doing superhero work out in the public with flashy displays and ridiculous spandex and suits of armors (a huge sacrifice for Tony, but it had to be done) to doing their job, their responsibilities under the guise of 'official police or military business'.
A great part of Steve initially rebelled at having to be held back from opposing the Registration proposal, to be forced to stand down and be bullied by the government, the very same ones they were trying to protect in giving up their God given rights as human beings. But it was either getting into a fight and taking sides, or surrendering their lives to their whims. The latter with which something Steve was vehemently against. Neither option was feasible. They had to come up with another option, a different approach.
For a while, his and Tony's principles clashed. Tony was pro registration, firing up reasons how he could work from the inside and god knows how Steve hated him for even considering it. Fortunately, being in a relationship and parents to an eight year old was enough for them to throw aside pride and macho bravado for their son's sake, and instead aimed that focus in making sure they had his best interest at heart if they were ever to come to a decision.
They sat down, talked and though it took a grueling long while, finally they came to an agreement.
So it was decided.
The superhero community was going to lay low, literally out of the public eye the government was going to have to forget all about their precious Superhuman Registration Act. No superhumans to be seen in the streets meant no bill to pass specifically targeting them.
The villains remained however, and crime rate inevitably went up during the early stages of the Program when everything was still on shaky ground. But it got better with time. Steve and Tony and the rest of what was considered leaders of their respective factions, painstakingly spent months after months in making the Program work. They had a good system going. Sure, it was a thankless job, no one really knew it was them and not the police or military or SWAT that responded to distress calls so fast the rest of the City's police force was practically rendered useless. But it was their job nevertheless. It also didn't hurt that such approach meant they were kept away from the media's lenses.
Occasionally, overzealous fans of the heroes of the past appear trying to do hero work, probably in some misguided notion that it was their calling or some such nonsense, but of course nowhere near cut out for the job. They were quick to get silenced by SHIELD, given rules to follow, dos and don'ts and absolutely nots, while the professionals handled the situation as swiftly and silently as possible.
It was the status quo for nearly a decade until Spiderman the elusive arachnid seemingly appeared out of nowhere. They couldn't pin him down. It almost seemed like clairvoyance the way he always managed to slip past their operatives, like he could sense them coming.
It frustrated Tony to new heights.
Several years prior, Fury finally stepped down from his Director position with a whole lot of bitching about how he's had enough of you fuckers. I'm going to enjoy my retirement fund. Now, how about we see each other never.
Someone had to be in charge.
Hill was the obvious choice, but she made it clear she didn't want the massive headache. She'd rather shoot herself in the mouth first. Steve was voted next, but he was a field Commander and was and will always be a hands on kind of operative. Natasha was not having any of their bullshit. Bucky was a recovering brainwashed assassin. Thor didn't even have a green card. Clint was a giant ten year old. Bruce was literally a hulking giant and though he's gotten quite the lid on his alter ego, he wasn't about to test those limits. The mutants still kind of have a love/hate relationship with the rest of the human society, so it was a no go.
Deadpool was the only one that loudly voiced out his eagerness, escaping from the psych ward, very temporarily, making some grand speech about volunteering as tribute. Clint had shot him with exploding arrows point blank they had to mop up disgusting Deadpool bits from the walls and the floor.
Tony was away on an investor's meeting that time, so no one really thought to consider him until he came back with his grinning face and smartass comments about the dreadful decor and the equally dreadful faces except for the dashing and handsome Commander.
It was a unanimous decision.
Steve still isn't sure if the decision was because they genuinely thought Tony was going to do a good job of it or that they simply didn't want to have another discussion that may or may not end in up with Wade's guts all over the floor. They were very disappointing like that.
Tony vehemently refused, predictably because of ridiculous reasons, one of which was, Steve I gave my company to Pepper to run, where in my list of personality defects does it say this is a good idea? and another, I have a heart condition, damn you Rogers! These bastards will drive me to an early grave! But Steve could be very persuasive and wasn't past using certain methods as a means of getting what he wanted.
Whoever said that Captain America didn't know devious was sorely misinformed. Tony didn't stand a chance. Not that his husband minded his tactics. In fact he enjoyed it and so did Steve. Immensely.
Steve personally know how Tony always ends up being the best in what he does. As long as he puts his genius mind to it, he can just about do anything. He will be amazing as Director. Steve trusted him a hundred percent to do a wonderful job, and Tony didn't disappoint.
The downside however was, Tony hardly saw their son ever since he took up the mantle of Director, even worse than Steve who seem to always be in another timezone. But he tried, he certainly did. Despite how swamped he was with paperwork and meetings and practically having tied up to his Director's desk ninety percent of the time, Tony always kept tabs, constant surveillance on their boy's day to day life, while Steve was away on some godforsaken country or island carrying out his orders.
As for Steve, in between missions in and out of American soil, training agents, overseeing individual team mission reports and god knew what else, visited the Parker household whenever he had the opportunity. There were also times, emergency situations where they drop everything in a heartbeat. The attack on Midtown High by that giant monstrosity of a lizard had Tony suiting up in five seconds flat, (black matte armor for just such situations) and Steve who'd just picked up a new mission after attending Ben's funeral had never before crossed the border as fast.
"So when did you get back?"
Steve startles and nearly brains himself on the open cupboard door upon hearing Peter's voice.
The teen walks into the dining area, pulling up a chair to sit on as he goes. Steve's instructed him to wash his face first and clean up before dinner and Peter did what he's told without preamble. He's changed to a loose dark red sweats with a gold lining and a white long-sleeved tee shirt with the American flag imprinted up front.
Steve turns and stares, not quite certain how to react to seeing his son wear his and Tony's signature colors, cry or laugh or both.
"Uncle Steve? You okay?" Peter repeats, looking up at him curiously. He waves a hand across Steve's direct line of sight, breaking Steve from his momentary stupor, though not quite from the surge of warmth flooding his chest at the sight he made. He should take a picture.
The blonde blinks, gaze a little watery, smile a little wistful. "Oh, umm... Yeah, I'm okay. And I got back three days ago. I called May. Told her I'm available if she ever needs any help. I actually came by yesterday, but no one was home." He explains as he approaches the table, the teenager nodding his understanding, then asks, very tentatively. "So uhh... how long are you staying?"
Steve feels his throat constrict at the vulnerability in his son's voice, reminding him of the night of Ben's funeral when Peter, half-asleep with dried tears on his cheeks gripped him tight, begged, pleaded him not to leave, repeated heart-wrenching sobs of how sorry he was.
Steve's heart broke into a million fragments of self-hate and guilt that night as he wiped his son's tears, trying and failing to comfort. He couldn't possibly let Peter continue on believing it was somehow his fault people he loves either leave or die, especially after the self-blame that spilled out of his son's trembling lips.
He blamed himself for Richard and Mary leaving, Steve's visits all but stopping back when he was eight when the SHRA bill was first introduced. Kept repeating how he was a screw up, how no one wanted him, not really. Aunt May couldn't even bear to look at him after finding out who the guy who shot Uncle Ben was. He could have stopped the robber at the store (Steve couldn't see how he could have and was just so damn grateful he didn't get hurt) but was too spiteful from the argument they had earlier that night that he just didn't care anymore. If only he didn't run out, if only Ben didn't come looking for him. It was just a lot of regrets and what ifs.
Peter didn't remember his miserable rantings and sobbing that night, but Steve heard more than enough, and had talked to Tony about the depressing and alarming emotional and mental state of their son. One more mission, that was it, they agreed. One of them has to be there for him from there on out. Finally, a week ago, Tony officially pulled Steve off active duty.
Steve lets out a deep breath. "A few months, to a year. Needed a break from all of the.." he trails off, silent understanding passing between them. Peter had once been told how Steve works for the army, constantly deployed to war zones, not that far from the truth, and the kid knows how tough his line of work was.
Peter nods and visibly relaxes, releasing a drawn out exhale. A relieved smile spreads across his face. "That's, that's really good."
Steve matches his smile, then quietly motions for Peter to say their graces, as they always do whenever they share a meal. Supper is a quiet but swift affair. Peter has first hand experience how Steve prefers minimal talk while eating, especially when one's mouth is full and doesn't begrudge him for it. The kid used to never get enough of making jokes about how May practically swoon whenever Steve showcases such great qualities though, men are such slobs, yes I'm talking to you Ben Parker, much to Steve's awkward discomfort.
He misses Ben. He misses seeing the smile lighting up May's face whenever she looked at her husband.
Steve didn't think he'd make it if he lost Tony.
Peter volunteers to wash the dishes for them afterward, but Steve shoos him to go watch TV or whatever it is young people did these days. It's been a while since he did anything resembling housework. Steve likes the repetitive routine. It's got a very calming effect on him. And well, if he was going to be perfectly honest, he never did get around to trusting a dishwasher.
Peter tries to argue and insist but his stubborn meter isn't anywhere near as bad as Steve's, the teen had to eventually surrender.
"You should visit... Harry, I mean. He missed you. Before his dad shipped him to boarding school. He kept asking when you'd be back." Peter mutters by the kitchen entrance before fully walking into the next room. Steve's gaze softens at the mention of the boy, recalling adoring bright blue eyes, soft blonde hair and pinkish round cheeks.
It wasn't just Peter he left behind when he got called in all those years ago and it saddens him how he didn't get a chance to see Harry grow. He nods his ascent. "Of course, Pete. How's tomorrow sound?"
Peter's face light up. He looks so inexplicably young when he smiles.
"Yeah, I'm sure he'd like that. Thanks, Uncle Steve." Peter replies enthusiastically and practically skips on his way.
A/N: Like it? Hate it? If you've had the time to read this, please take the time to review and share me your thoughts? : It will only take a couple of minutes from your life and it would make me a very happy frustrated writer, not to mention it inspires! Thank you!