SUMMARY: Peter gulps when the man turns back, the reflective surface of the goggles blocking his expression. The man gives Peter a long look before turning to leave.

"Go home, child." He says, voice surprisingly soft.

(In which Steve is a terrible dad but Peter still loves him. They find the Winter Soldier together. Tony is the cool uncle. Fluff.)


"You lost your kid?! How do you even lose Peter?! He's like an eighty-year-old man inside that tiny body. He actually has COMMON SENSE."

"I don't know, Tony!" Steve ducks out of the way as a Hydra agent tries to tackle him. "I told Peter to stay by the ice cream shop! He's not there anymore!"

"Well, of course he's not there anymore! The freakin' shop isn't there anymore!" Tony hollers back, firing off rapid repulsers and flitting around Steve's head like an angry red moth. He can actually hear Tony's eyes rolling behind his scratched and dented helmet.

Steve glances nervously at the crumbling mess of concrete, glass and steel (what's left of the ice cream shop) and admits to himself that it might not have been his best plan to tell his seven-year-old adopted son to stand in that particular spot when the enemies pulled out a bazooka.

"You think poor little Petey is under the rubble?"

"Tony!" Steve pauses to glare at him.

"Just yanking your chains, Rogers. By the way, I'm totally not letting you live this down. You are now officially a member of the Worst Fathers in History Club, along with Howard. Congrats!"

"God dang it, Tony! Just help me find him!" Steve kick a Hydra agent in the stomach with unnecessary force and turns to run. He spots a figure in silver and black striding out of the smoke and chaos, but Steve is too distracted to in investigate. Peter is nowhere to be seen and there are Hydra agents lying scattered on the ground. Widow spins past him, her face pale and pinched. He catches the scent of blood on her, but Steve has to find Peter first and he barely has the time to give her a concerned look before she disappears through the smoke.

"Thor!" Steve shouts and waves to Thor as the caped god of thunder flies overhead. Thor drops down on a Honda and flattens the hood. Steve winces.

"CAPTAIN OF AMERICA! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Thor booms and claps him on the back. Steve has to shout for the man to hear his voice.

"I can't find Peter!"

Thor nods understandingly and promises to help find him. Steve is starting to panic, but the man with the silver arm he saw earlier is upon him and he packs a hell of a mean swing.


When the ice cream shop explodes, Peter is already halfway across the street. The buffeting heat wave that follows effectively splatters dirt and bits of glass on his thoroughly melted ice cream cone. Somehow it also ruins the retro hairstyle Tony fashioned him that morning before Steve offered to take Peter to the bookstore.

He stands there, ice cream and patches of dirt adorning his face and stares at the crumbling mess that's left of the shop. A man wearing dark goggles, a face mask and black bullet-proof vest jumps smoothly from the wreckage, his brown hair billowing in the wind. Peter scoots back a few steps when he notices the big sniper rifle the man is holding.

The man drops the gun and rotates his left arm and Peter notices the metallic sheen it gives off. He curses under his breath in a foreign language and jerks his fingers. Apparently the metal arm is malfunctioning.

Peter backs up and drops his melty cone when the man notices him and starts forward.

"There's a scrambling chip on the back of your shoulder." Peter blurts out, his voice tiny and squeaky. The man stops and reaches back, ripping a crackling chip from the metal surface, crushing it between his human fist. He rotates his arm again and the little scientist inside Peter crows in triumph when the limb moves smoothly. He knew he had been right.

Peter gulps when the man turns back, the reflective surface of the goggles blocking his expression. The man gives Peter a long look before turning to leave.

"Go home, child." He says, voice surprisingly soft.

Steve finds Peter sitting in Steve's SHIELD issued car two blocks away, a parking ticket fluttering in the windshield because Steve still can't tell parking spaces apart from no-parking zones.

"Oh thank god!" Steve collapses onto his knees and hugs Peter with all his might. There's a giant bruise on the left side of Steve's face and the paint on his shield is scratched beyond recognition. Peter pulls a large piece of plaster from Steve's blonde hair and Steve smiles guiltily at him.

"Let's get you home, buddy."


"He's called the Winter Soldier." Natasha confirms from the couch, her face pale and drawn as Clint patches the wound on her shoulder. It's a clean shot, but she has lost a lot of blood. "A highly trained assassin. No one knows his identity."

Steve rubs a hand over his face and flips through the profile again. There is a grainy photo of a brunet man in black and the blocky letters 'The Winter Soldier' printed over the page. The background page is sadly blank and Steve snaps the folder shut again with a frustrated sigh. The only lead the have right now is the Winter Soldier apparently works for Hydra.

"Uh, not to interrupt your moping over an unknown assassin, but maybe you should go upstairs and talk to Pete. You know, the whole Ice cream thing." Tony pipes up from the doorway, face streaked with engine oil and grease, but the dirt is not enough to mask the 'so not impressed with Captain America right now' look he is sending Steve.

"Yeah...I should." Steve sighs and goes upstairs.


The next weekend, Steve proposes a picnic, no one else, just the two of them and Peter decides to bring his first-aid kit just in case. He's sensible that way.

Steve has just spread the food onto the checkered blanket when Loki appears out of nowhere along with an army of aliens and Hydra agents. Steve spots a familiar figure in a black mask among them. Apparently the villains are working together to make Steve look like the world's worst dad.

Loki enchants the trees into attacking the civilians and Thor drops out of the sky, landing squarely on the picnic basket. Steve moans in despair because he had been so looking forward to showing Peter the tiny cucumber sandwiches he had learned to make on TV.

"Loki! Stop this nonsense and let the good captain eat in peace!" Thor roars at his brother, swinging his hammer and utterly missing the fact that he's the one who destroyed the picnic basket in the first place. Between the two gods, the park quickly becomes a wasteland of uprooted trees, broken water fountains and haphazardly thrown park benches.

Steve vaults over a broken park bench and grabs his son around the waist, ducks under a thrashing branch and sets Peter down by the dainty little bakery at the edge of the park.

"Stay, okay buddy?" He tries to sound confident, he really does.

Peter nods dubiously and glances at the concrete slab overhead. Steve turns and disappears into the fleeing crowd.

The Winter Soldier is a very dangerous opponent, Steve observes while trying to dodge the sharp combat knife the man is using. His movements are calculating and smooth, each action aimed at Steve's vital parts and he has to use all his concentration to block his attacks. And of course the metal arm and inhuman strength also add to his deadliness.

Steve turns when he hears the explosion and catches a glimpse of the bakery going up in a cloud of smoke and fire. Thor emerges from the rubble, swinging his hammer and tackles Loki.

"You have got to be KIDDING me!" Steve shouts, his face twisted in disbelief. Twice. How could that happen twice?!

He drops the Winter Soldier with a hard kick and turns to run toward the wreckage. Clawing at the debris and broken concrete, Steve prays to God Peter got away in time.

The world is in chaos around him and Steve feels like his heart is being dragged out of his chest by a million fishhooks. A hand clamps around the back of Steve's neck and he can hear the soft whispering whirls of the metallic arm next to his ear. His vision is going black from the pressure against his spine, but he has to find Peter first.

"Please...my son..." Steve manages to say.

"Dad!" Peter is sobbing when Steve finally digs past the debris and broken glass. He opens his arms and Peter wiggles out of the space and throws himself into Steve's chest. Steve's fingers are bleeding and there is a long cut above his brow where a shard of glass had sliced the skin, but the immeasurable relief of finding Peter alive overrides the pain. He collapses onto the ground and clutches Peter tightly to him.

"Thank you..." Steve says to the motionless form standing next to him. The Winter Soldier had surprised him when he silently helped Steve lift a huge slab of concrete Steve was having difficulty with and assisted with clearing away the mess to get to Peter.

The man doesn't reply, slipping away into the chaos without a backward glance. Peter sniffs into Steve's shoulder and Steve watches the assassin disappear into the smoke.

"I'm so sorry, Peter." He repeats the words over and over again.


"I suggest you leave Peter with one of us next time." Tony pipes up helpfully from the kitchen, a glass of alcohol halfway to his lips.

Steve sighs dejectedly and pulls out a band-aid, turning to Peter, who is sitting on the kitchen island. Peter dutifully holds up his elbow and Steve gently tapes the Spongebob band-aid over the scraped skin.

"You're all set to go, buddy." Steve pats his knee with a smile. Peter hops off the table and patters over to Tony.

"Can I have a glass of milk?" He asks politely. Tony pours him a glass and hands it over with a grin.

"Go play video games with Uncle Clint, okay? Your dad looks like he wants to talk in private." Tony fluffs Peter's hair and hands him another glass of milk. "Steady there, Pete. Pass a glass to Clint too, okay?"

Peter balances the glasses carefully as he shuffles over to the living room.

"Alright, little man! Milk, drink of champions!" Clint crows over the sound of his noisy game. They high-five each other and Peter settles down to watch Clint play, his tall glass balanced carefully in his lap.

"So, what's on your mind?" Tony turns to face Steve with a critical expression. Steve sighs and sits down by the counter. Tony slides a glass of vodka over the table and Steve drains it in one gulp.

"I don't know if I can be a good father to Peter." He admits. "I almost got him killed. Twice. In two weeks."

Tony settles his weight on his arms and lean over the counter, his eyes studying Steve's face intently. "Why did you adopt him?"

"Because he was like me. You know, before the serum. I was a pathetic little thing with a big ol' sense of justice and I tried to stand up to every bully in the world. Peter was like me in the orphanage." Steve says softly. "But unlike me, he didn't have someone to look after him. I had Bucky."

They lapse into a moody silence, each thinking about different things. Steve studies his palm, trying to remember when it had been tiny enough to fit wholly in one of Bucky's hands.

"He worries about you." Tony says suddenly, breaking the small depressing silence that has settled over the two men. Steve looks up with a startled expression.

Tony smirks and pours him another glass. "Peter has a big heart. He asked me the other day to help you make a suit so you wouldn't get injured during battle. And he always carries a few band-aids with him because he knows you always get yourself hurt trying to rescue everyone."

Steve feels like he's going to cry.

"You guys are good together. Peter is a great kid." Tony clicks his glass with Steve's and grins. "Cheers. You are truly a horrible father, Rogers. Unintentionally horrible, but horrible all the same."

Steve groans and drains the glass. He doesn't get to tell Tony about the strange encounter with the Winter Soldier.


Steve has a little apartment in Brooklyn; while it's not a exact replica of the old apartment he shared with Bucky, it is close. There's a small balcony overlooking the street beyond, and every time the sun shines just right, Steve can close his eyes and recall the sunny afternoons when Bucky reclined in a wicker chair, his hair mussed up and grinning lazily while Steve carefully traced his silhouette with a charcoal pencil. The sounds of laughter and traffic would float up from the street below, and the delicious scent of apple pie would permeate the air, wafting from the little restaurant that was Bucky's favorite place to eat.

Nowadays, the little apartment is barely lived in. Steve spends most of his days in Stark Tower or SHIELD issued apartments in Washington, and Peter usually stays with one of the other Avengers in the tower. They do try to come back on the weekends. Steve would sit by the window, flipping through magazines and newspapers, occasionally raising his head to ask Peter a question about something he didn't understand. Peter would be steadily going through his second grade reading list, his head bent over a book and swinging his legs atop the stool.

It's a peaceful way to spend their time, but Steve still feels like something is missing.

"Dad, can we have spaghetti for dinner?" Peter shuffles out from under the table, his fallen pencil clutched in one hand. Steve grins and dusts the boy's shirt off.

"Sure, bud. Wanna help me make it?"

"Yeah!"

It's a lazy afternoon and they have plenty of time on their hands. Peter chops the tomatoes and they go about making their own sauce; the gentle bubbling of the pot is a comforting noise behind them.

Of course the peace doesn't last long and the flimsy window by the balcony shatters into a million pieces when a dark figure punches through. Steve doesn't have to look twice to recognize the Winter Soldier.

Peter ducks under the kitchen table when his dad vaults over the counter, his hand reaching for his shield. The Winter Soldier pulls out two dark combat knives and goes for Steve's throat. The tiny living room is soon destroyed and feathers from the old-fashioned seat cushions Steve bought at an auction are floating everywhere.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve shouts over the noise of steel meeting steel. The Soldier doesn't reply and Steve kicks him back onto the sofa, disarming him in the process. The Winter Soldier hurls the nearest object at him (which happens to be Steve's old sketchbook), sending pages flying everywhere. Steve ducks out of the way, anger seeping into him now. Those pictures of Bucky are the last remnants of his old friend, and now they are scattered carelessly over the room.

The Winter Soldier is staring at one of the sketches, a detailed piece Steve did recently. Bucky's eyes are twinkling with mischief in the picture, his mouth curled into a small smile. The distraction is enough for Steve to tackle him onto the ground and punch the assassin hard in the face. The goggles come lose in the struggle and the Winter Soldier shoves Steve off him with the strength of his metal arm.

He staggers upright, hands clutching his head, and Steve cautiously move between Peter and the other man, his shield raised. The Winter Soldier gives them one last look before he dives out of the window and disappears into the night.

Steve follows him onto the balcony just to be sure, and upon seeing nothing, rushes back inside to pick up Peter. He salvages as many sketches as he can, and drives Peter back to Stark Tower. Steve doesn't bother locking the door, doubtlessly SHIELD would arrive soon.


"Why is he targeting me?" Steve demands, eyes focused on Natasha. The others are standing silently around them, except for Tony, who is ordering takeout for Peter and Steve.

She and Clint exchange unreadable looks before Natasha speaks up. "They want a flash drive. Fury may have intentionally let out the information that it was on you."

"What's on it?"

Natasha looks at him blandly, her face smooth and devoid of any emotion. "That's classified, Captain Rogers."

"You're involving him and you won't tell him about it?"

"TIS DISHONORABLE TO DO SUCH A THING!"

Steve rubs his face wearily as the others voice their disapproval. Natasha doesn't bat an eye at this and turns on her heels to leave. Steve should have known SHIELD was somehow involved.

"Miss Romanov."

She stops and turns to him. Steve looks her in the eye and says, "I don't care what SHIELD is up to, but if my son gets hurt in the process, there will be blood. Tell Fury to keep that in mind."

She gives him a look that almost seems appraising before give a tiny nod.

"You okay, Pete?" Steve tucks the Ironman covers carefully under Peter's chin. The seven year old gives a small yawn and nods.

"Good. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" Steve leans down and kisses Peter on the forehead. He stands and turns the nightlight on before making his way to the door.

"Dad?"

Steve turns around. "Yeah, Pete?"

"He has kind eyes." Peter whispers and burrows deeper into the covers. Steve hesitates, his mind wandering back to the fight. The Winter Soldier had glanced back at them one last time before he disappeared and Steve could recall those eyes.

He had looked lost and uncertain, like someone trying desperately to cling onto an identity. He didn't look evil to Steve, and those grey blue eyes had looked hauntingly familiar.

"Yes, he does." Steve replies and shuts the door.


Steve always forgets to pick Peter up from school. His teacher and dad finally came to an agreement after too many late pickups. It has become a habit for Peter to walk the fifteen minutes from school to home alone.

It's a Friday when Peter gets kidnaped. He's on his way back to Stark Tower, wearing a red sweater and green Hulk backpack when the car pulls up behind him and a man hoists Peter up and deposits him in the back seat.

"Sorry, kid. It's not personal, but we need you to come with us." The man smiles dryly at him and drops a bag over Peter's head.

They make him sit in a chair in the middle of a large room. Two dozen or so men in dark uniforms and guns are standing around, their eyes hidden behind protective shades. Peter wants to cry.

An older man walks out from an elevator, flanked by even more people in dark uniforms. Peter spots the silver arm before he recognizes the man. The Winter Soldier strides languidly past the other men and stops in front of Peter.

"Sir, you did not say to kidnap the child." His voice is still soft and low and he sounds confused.

The old man waves the comment away, pulling up a chair in front of Peter and sits down.

"We have not tied young Peter up." He smiles at Peter and offers a carton of orange juice. "Drink up, son. I'm sure you had quite the scare."

Peter takes the juice, but does not drink. He doesn't want them to see his fingers shaking.

"You see, your father has something very crucial to us. A list that could probably endanger a lot of innocent men and women undercover all over the world. We need to keep that information a secret."

The man smiles in what he obviously thinks is a reassuring way. "We just need you to tell your father to bring the flash drive and you can go home with him, and many people will be safe from harm. Deal?"

Peter glances over at the man with the silver arm, but the Winter Soldier doesn't give any signs of noticing him. No one seems to notice that he's staring off into space and clenching his fists like he wants to hit something.

Peter agrees to make the call because he doesn't know what else to do.


Steve Rogers arrives alone.

"I swear I'm alone." He says, dropping his shield and holding his hands up behind his head. The men take the flash drive and marches Captain America to the laboratory. Steve struggles toward Peter and pulls the boy up into his arms, shielding him from the men standing in the room.

"Thank you, Captain Rogers." The man smiles and snaps the laptop shut. "I'm so glad you could make it, but sadly, you've seen too much. SHIELD cannot permit this information to leak out. I'm afraid I can not let you leave without wiping your memories first."

He makes a curt gesture and the Winter Soldier snaps to attention, moving forward to subdue Steve.

"You promised!" Steve shouts and the man snorts.

"It is for the greater good. Rumlow, make sure the good captain goes through the wipe." He turns to leave. Peter gets pushed to the side unceremoniously when the assassin approaches them.

Steve throws a punch at the Winter Soldier, ducks under the swing of his arm and slams his shoulder into the man's legs, knocking him off balance. They struggle wildly with each other before Steve hooks his fingers under the mask, twisting his arm and ripping the thing off his face. The Winter Soldier rolls away and picks himself up with languid calculating movements. He turns and Steve's mouth drops open in surprise, because he knows that face, has traced the contours of those lips with a charcoal pencil a thousand times. He stand up, eyes never leaving the Winter Soldier's face.

"Bucky?" Steve breaths in wonder.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" Bucky cocks his head to one side and stares intently at him. He looks confused and agitated, his hands balled into fists and

"It's Steve, remember?" Steve tries, but the Winter Soldier has taken over and Bucky's eyes look dead. He kicks Steve in the stomach hard enough to make him taste bile in his mouth.

"Buck-" Steve dives out of the way, barely avoiding the knife aimed at his face. "You are James Buchanan Barnes! My best friend!"

"SHUT UP!" Bucky roars, collapsing into the ground and clutches his head in his hands, tearing at his hair in agony.

"Get out of my head..." He whispers brokenly, rocking back onto his heels. There are tears in Bucky's eyes and he stares at Steve with tortured eyes.

"Bucky, it's me..." Steve doesn't notice the tears running down his own face, holding up his hands and trying to approach Bucky cautiously. His fingers graze Bucky's cheek and despite his hesitation, he still closes his eyes and leans into the touch, tears tracking silently down his face.

"I know you..." He whispers.

"DAD!" Peter's cry of pain makes Steve flinch back. Rumlow has Peter by the collar of his shirt, a gun pressed to his temple and Steve freezes.

"Step away from the Soldier, Captain. Or Peter gets a bullet to the head." He calls out, tightening his fingers around Peter's neck. "Put your hands behind your head."

Three men approach and drags Bucky back roughly, shoving him into the seat at the end of the laboratory. Steve feels cold steel close over his wrists and reluctantly lets the man push him onto his knees.

"I had hoped this would not happen." Pierce looks resigned as he steps back into the room. Dragging a chair over to the Winter Soldier, he sits down and studies Bucky's face with a cold calculating expression. Bucky's eyes are focused on Steve and they are clear and bright.

Pierce's eyes darken and he slaps Bucky hard across the face. Steve surges forward in anger as Bucky's face snaps to the side. A trickle of blood runs down Bucky's chin and he bites his lip.

"Why do you have to make me the bad guy?" Pierce sighs and gestures toward one of the lab coats. "What is going on?"

"He's been out of cryo for too long, sir." The scientist confirms. Steve struggles violently against his bonds and only stops when Rumlow drags Peter closer in warning.

"I know him..." Bucky whispers. "Steve..."

Pierce closes his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if the drama is starting to give him a headache. "Wipe him and start over again."

He turns to Steve with a small cruel smile. "Let the captain watch."

"NO!" Steve pulls blindly at his bonds, excruciating agony coursing through his heart at the sight of Bucky's eyes dimming and opening his mouth to accept what is coming. The scientist shoves him back to lie on the bed. Bucky's chest is heaving in panic and he looks at Steve like he is saying goodbye.

Steve sags to the ground and closes his eyes, trying and failing to block out the bloodcurdling screams coming from the chair. Steve glances at Peter; the boy is pale and trembling like a leaf, but he looks back and gives a tiny nod.

Tears running down his face, Steve grits his teeth and pulls with all his might on the cuffs. He snaps them easily and grabs the man behind him, using his body as a shield against the hail of bullets being fired. He hears Rumlow cry out in pain and turns to see Peter backing away with a fearful expression on his face, one of Tony's little gadgets clutched in his hand. If Tony had been present, Steve would not have hesitated to kiss him on the cheek.

"Retreat! Get out of here!" Pierce shoves a man aside and runs for the elevator, but Steve gets to him first. He ignores the searing pain of bullets burying themselves in his flesh and grabs the man around the collar. Steve snaps his neck with cold efficiency. The world is a swirling mess of bullets and screams and Steve turns around just in time to see Rumlow bring his boot down on Peter's left wrist.

"NO!" Bucky appears out of nowhere and tackles the man. They roll to a stop and grapple blindly with one another, throwing punches and clawing at any exposed skin. Steve looks down at his abdomen and blood is seeping rapidly through his plaid shirt. He presses a hand over the wound, grits his teeth and takes a few unsteady steps before his knees give out.

Bucky is struggling to breath with Rumlow's hands around his neck. Peter is clutching his broken wrist and huddled in a corner. They need his help, but Steve can't feel his limbs anymore and there are black dots scattered across his vision. He drags himself forward on hands and knees; it is excruciatingly slow and Steve feels like he's bleeding the contents of his stomach all over the floor.

"What would you do for the ones you love?" Rumlow shouts at him and Steve grits his teeth.

"He doesn't have to do anything." A voice pipes up and Tony Stark swoops out of a door-sized hole in he ceiling and knocks the man flying with his repulsers. Natasha and Clint descend like ninjas, and against the three of them, the enemies stand no chance.

Steve drags himself over to Bucky's limp form and grabs his hand. Bucky looks at him like a frightened animal and tries to shrug him off, but Steve only clings on tighter. Peter shuffles close and Steve pulls the trembling seven-year-old into his arms.

"We're going to be okay." Steve rasps, repeating the words like a mantra.


Steve is rushed to the hospital to get the bullets removed and Peter gets a huge awkward cast plastered over his left wrist. Bucky is taken into SHIELD custody under Fury's orders.

The moment Steve comes to, he methodically rips off the tubes and needles attached to his body and demands to see Bucky. The agent relents when Steve threatens to call Phil Coulson. Apparently no one wants to get Coulson involved.

"Captain, you're not allowed-" Steve brushes past Nick Fury and slips into the confinement unit. There is a small steel bed, a toilet and a small window with thick iron bars. It also has heavy chains shackling the Winter Soldier to the wall.

"What did you do to him?!" Steve demands, turning to Fury, because Bucky's arm is missing and he looks pissed as hell.

"The chains are no match for that arm. We have to subdue him somehow." Fury doesn't apologize for what he has done. The Winter Soldier looks furious; his eyes are cold and hard and he is muttering under his breath in Russian. Steve goes to his side despite the clear warning from Fury; in fact, he decides to ignore the man all together.

"Bucky?"

His words seem to cause the Winter Soldier pain, because Bucky thrashes harder and yanks at the chains so hard his wrist begins to bleed.

"Bucky, it's okay. Calm down." Steve dodges the elbow aimed at his face and drags Bucky to his chest, feeling the tremors running down his spine. Bucky is breathing like a frightened animal and he is still whispering in Russian. Steve winces in pain when Bucky's teeth clamp down on his shoulder and bite down hard, drawing blood and obviously leaving a mark, but he refuses to let him go.

Bucky goes limp after a few more minutes and Steve tries to ignore the warm trickle of blood along his neck and gently settles his best friend into a more comfortable position. His eyes are half shut and Bucky looks resigned and bone-tired.

"Want to go to sleep, Bucky?" Steve murmurs softly, stroking a thumb along his neck. Bucky presses his face into Steve's chest and lets out a long rattling breath.

"Don't leave..." He says in English, so soft Steve almost doesn't hear and he feels hot tears soak into his shirt as Bucky shakes silently in his arms.

He falls into an uneasy sleep with Steve's fingers tangled in his hair, gently petting the soft brown strands and whispering stories of their past in his ear.

"Dad! Tony signed my cast!" Peter looks a little wild-eyed, no doubt the effect of the medication they gave him, and bursts through the doors, ignoring Nick Fury's eye roll and skitters to a halt in front of Steve, who puts up a finger hurriedly to his lips.

"Oh." Peter says, his eyes going wide as he stares at Bucky with great fascination.

"I never did get to hear an introduction, kid." Bucky says softly and Steve peers down to see his best friend open his eyes and regard Peter with timid interest. Peter blinks in surprise and puffs up his chest importantly.

"My name is Peter Parker. I'm seven-and-a-half years old." He shuffles closer and peers down at Bucky. "Will you sign my cast too?"

Steve laughs and ruffles his hair as Peter plops down on the bed alongside them. He has a feeling that they are going to get along just fine.


"They were Hydra moles disguised as SHIELD agents, and we have decoded the list thanks to you, Captain." Fury explains, standing expectantly outside Steve's apartment. "Is there, uh, anything else I can help you with, Captain?"

Steve gives the director of SHIELD a flat stare and shakes his head. "No thank you. Now if you don't mind, I have some things to attend to."

He slams the door in Nick's face. It is strangely satisfying. Steve decides to tell Tony about that tomorrow.

He heads back to the kitchen with a serene smile which quickly turns into an affronted frown when he catches sight of his two most favorite people with their heads bent over the kitchen counter together.

"Can I see another one?" Peter asks in awe, his left arm now encased in a smaller version of the cast from a month ago. There's a big Ironman helmet drawn crookedly on the cast, and Steve thinks maybe this obsession with Tony Stark is getting too far. Or maybe he is just plain jealous.

Bucky wordlessly pulls out another black-edged combat knife and lays it on the table with a small flourish. Peter squeals in delight and reaches out a finger to...

Steve coughs out loud and the two culprits freeze guiltily, both looking up at him with identical expressions of deers caught in the headlight. Bucky looks a bit nervous and Steve almost feels like he's the one who should be guilty as he goes over and presses a kiss to Bucky's forehead. His best friend relaxes into his embrace and leans his weight on Steve's good side. Between the three of them, they can probably keep a small hospital running with the amount of bruises on their bodies.

"How are you feeling, Buck?" Steve murmurs, carding his fingers through Bucky's long brown curls. Bucky tips his head back and closes his eyes, his expression clearing.

"Happy, I think." He says, his lips curling slowly into a familiar smile. Bucky opens his eyes and wraps his fingers around Steve's. They still have a long way to go and Bucky still gets plagued by nightmares, but the sun is shining through the window, painting the kitchen a golden yellow and Steve knows they are going to be okay.


"No."

"But Bucky, I like it this way."

"It's too hot."

"You can tie it up."

"No, I'm cutting it."

"Please, Bucky? Don't."

"You just like braiding it." Bucky accuses.

"But-"

"No."

Peter drops his backpack down on the floor with a resounding 'thunk' and announces to the room at large, "I made it back alive in case anyone is wondering."

Thor grins and thumps Peter on the back, wandering away from the small group gathered around his dad and his pa.

"James wants to cut his hair, but your father wants him to keep it long." Thor stage whispers.

Peter knows his pa is totally going to win the argument, so he drags Thor to the huge fridge in the Avengers kitchen and points to the huge gallon of ice cream.

"Lets eat that, and you can draw on my cast." He offers.

As it turns out, Thor is a fantastic artist and goes about depicting Asgardian mythology on Peter's cast in minute intricate pictures. Peter eggs him on with chunks of ice cream and keeps an eye on the escalating argument in the living room.

In the end, they compromise and Bucky shortens his hair to about ear-length and Steve mopes about for a whole week.


Steve is a horrible father.

It's not that he tries intentionally to get Peter into harmful situations, it's just that he somehow always has the knack of getting his kid injured.

Bucky is actually pretty good at taking care of kids, and Tony poses the theory that he has plenty of practice because he used to take care of Steve. Tony regrets saying the words almost as soon as they leave his mouth because Steve goes a little misty-eyed and the whole room suddenly feels depressing as hell.

But between the two of them, a living national icon and a former Russian assassin, Peter gets into all sort of weird situations.

Tony is tinkering with the Mark 42 when Peter wanders into the lab with a slab of raw beef over one swollen eye.

"What happened, little man?!" Tony drops his wrench and stares in appalled horror. The small child takes a seat next to Dummy and peels the slab of meat off his face with a nasty squelching sound.

"Dad was playing foosball with Pa, I got a little too close." He says simply.

Tony winces in sympathy. For such a big man, Steve has surprisingly sharp elbows. Tony offers him a fancy little screwdriver and beckons Peter over to the unfinished model of Bucky's arm. "Wanna help me think up some awesome inventions?"

"Sure." Peter hops off the seat and drapes his meat carefully on one of Dummy's arms.

"The coffee maker and the 3D movie projector are awesome." Bucky tells Tony two weeks later.

"Pete thought up those." Tony replies and ruffles Peter's hair.

The thing goes haywire two days later after Bucky goes for a swim in the pool, and a rumpled-looking Steve Rogers comes charging into Tony's lab with scalding hot coffee soaked into his crotch and along his thighs, demanding a normal synthetic arm. Tony refuses to think about what they had been up to when the arm malfunctioned.


"Then you add two teaspoons of sugar and the chocolate chips." Steve peers over the cook book and Bucky dutifully adds the ingredients to the bowl. Bruce is reading a newspaper by the window and Clint is fishing for a banana in their huge floor to ceiling refrigerator. Thor sits by the kitchen counter, eagerly waiting for the result of Steve's concoction, because Thor will eat anything if it has sugar in it. Natasha is nowhere to be seen. It's a typical weekend for the Avengers.

Tony wanders in shortly after Peter shuffles into the kitchen. Steve is now instructing Bucky to whisk eggs into the mixture.

"Making Powerpuff girls there, Rogers? Go easy on the sugar." Tony pours himself a cup of coffee and sits down next to Peter. Steve scowls stiffly at him from across the kitchen counter.

"I don't understand that reference."

"I do." Bucky pauses in his whisking and slaps Tony a high-five over the table. Tony grins and nudges Peter, who is being uncharacteristically silent, and blinks in surprise when he sees Peter's bloodshot eyes. There would have been week-old stubble if the boy had been old enough.

"What did Rogers do this time?" Tony says automatically. Peter shoots a small apologetic look at his father and shrugs.

"Can I stay with you for the weekend? I've been having trouble sleeping." Peter confesses and Tony raises his eyebrow in concern.

"Nightmares again?" Peter has been having horrible nightmares on and off for about six months now, and Tony's concerned they are coming back.

"Dad and Pa keep making funny noises all night long. I can't sleep." Peter says and the effect is immediate. Bruce sprays tea all over his newspaper and Clint pulls his head out of the fridge long enough to give them a disturbed look. Steve turns an alarming shade of red and looks like he wants to crawl into a cabinet and die. Bucky stops whisking the eggs and blinks owlishly at Peter. Thor just looks disappointed that the chocolate pancake making process has come to a screeching halt. Tony slaps a hand over his face and tries desperately to keep his laughter in check.

Surprisingly, it's Bruce who moves first, sliding twenty dollars over to Tony with a small resigned smile. Tony pecks him on the cheek and takes the money with a smug grin.

"We made bets on whether or not your guys were sleeping together." He explains.

"But I thought sleeping was supposed to be quiet." Peter pipes up, looking confused. "Does Dad snore?"

Bucky goes back to whisking the eggs when Thor pokes him expectantly. "Yep, he does snore. Very loudly. I should invest in a gag the next time. Any recommendations, Stark?"

"Bucky!" Steve's mortified squeal is drowned out by everyone else's groan of disgust.

Tony delicately puts his hands over Peter's ears and grins like a shark. "Don't worry Barnes, I'll show you the catalog later. By the way, who's uh, pitching and who's catching? We have another bet going on."

Bruce rolls his eyes and hides his smile behind his newspapers.

Peter gives his dad a very concerned and pitying look when Steve throws up his hands and flees the kitchen, his face bright red.


Peter gets a new stalker. He's on his way back from school and he has enough experience with kidnappers now to notice the very obvious man in red tights tiptoeing behind him. Peter whirls around just in time to see the man dive into a nearby dumpster. There is a loud crash, followed by enthusiastic curses. Peter presses his hands over his ears and waits for him to stop.

"Stop following me." He says, crossing his arms and glaring at the man in the red and black unitard. Deadpool (who the hell names their kid Deadpool?) sighs comically and flops out of the dumpster.

"Will you please let me kidnap you?" He says in a squeaky voice and bats his eyes behind his mask. Peter shakes his head patiently and turns to go.

"Aw, kid. You have any idea how much you're worth? Please let me kidnap you." He drapes his arms around Peter's shoulders and the little boy pulls out Tony's specially made taser in warning.

"I'm losing my job, here! I won't have any money to pay rent and food. Do you want to see me homeless on the street?"

"Do you always talk this much?" Peter shoots back dryly.

Deadpool showed up last week and has been steadily annoying Peter for the past week or so. He's also driven off any other men with the idea of kidnapping Peter, stating that Peter is HIS ticket to a hot meal, not anyone else's.

"Here." Peter pulls out a small pack of crackers and places it in Deadpool's hands. "Eat that, and leave me alone."

"Awww, let's be besties, Petey! Peteeeyyy!"

Peter ignores the prancing assassin behind him and continues his way home.

Steve's face is interestingly pink when Peter gets home to their little apartment and he jumps away from Bucky like he's been electrified. Peter waves to his parents, goes up to his room and does his homework. He takes the remaining half of the apple pie at dinner and places it on his window sill, along with a note and ten bucks. He doesn't have much money left over from last month's allowance.

In the morning, the pie is gone. There's a huge 'THX!' drawn on the paper with a lime-colored crayon along with what looks like a penis. Peter picks up the fluttering money and pockets the note with a small resigned sigh.

"Pete, breakfast in five." Steve hollers from downstairs. Peter can smell the delicious scent of eggs and bacon wafting gently up the stairs along with something else he can't identify. Steve and Bucky have developed some sort of hobby with DIY pancakes and Peter never wants to see another broccoli flavored pancake in his life again.

He hops off the bed, pulls on a Thor t-shirt because he has an endless collection of Avenger-themed things and hurtles down the stairs.

"Wanna go to the park this afternoon?" Steve smiles across the table, sliding a plate of purple pancakes over to Peter. Peter sees Bucky shake his head ever so slightly in the corner of his vision and promptly veers toward the sensible plate of eggs and bacon. Steve looks confused.

"Okay. Let's to to the park today." Peter says out loud.

It's a beautiful day. So what if Steve accidentally knocks Peter into the artificial pond during an energetic game of frisbee? Peter is willing to let it slide when his Pa pulls him out by the seat of his soaked jeans.

He dumps the leftover mystery pancakes on his window sill and leaves another note.

'NOT COOL.' The note says the next morning and Peter grins to himself as he hops down the stairs.

Life is good. Until Steve accidentally knocks over a cup of coffee.


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