On the night before Peter's twenty-first birthday, he got one of the worst calls he could ever hope not to receive.
It was Fury, telling the college boy to come to the roof immediately. He was to bring nothing but a credit card and the clothes on his back.
He refused to disclose any further information. Peter was terrified. He knew that this was the drill if something happened to one- or heaven forbid, both- of his fathers. He had done it so many times in his childhood that even now, years later, he remembered everything to the letter.
Peter was to go to the roof, dressed warmly and comfortably, with a credit card in his pocket. He was not to ask questions and to sit quietly in the seat assigned to him. It was harder for Peter not to ask questions now that he was as old as the pilot than it was when he was a fidgety seven-year-old.
Peter patiently waited for the jet sent to retrieve him to land. The instant the door was open, he leapt into the seat and buckled up. He gave a thumbs-up to the pilot and they sped off. The weightlessness coupled with the nervousness for his fathers' welfare was enough to make Peter hold on to the barf bag. Just in case.
Just as he had feared, the jet landed on the chopper pad on top of the hospital. Fury was standing beside the landing pad, calmly waiting for him. Peter strode over to the director quickly. "Is something wrong? What happened?" Peter shot off in rapid succession.
"Calm down, Parker." Peter scowled at Fury. "Are you going to waste time scowling at me instead of seeing your injured fathers?" Fury said dispassionately.
Peter straightened. "Both of them are hurt?"
Fury nodded and started to walk, Peter close beside. "It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out mission just for Stark. The Captain refused to let Stark go alone. They're kind of a team, and they hate it when I separate them. So, the Captain went with Stark against my two of them completed the mission in record time. While they were flying home, however, they failed to notice the sniper capturing them in his crosshairs."
By this time, they were entering the hospital waiting room. Peter was surprised to see all of the Avengers there…except Uncle Bruce.
"Bruce couldn't bear to be here. Just seeing your fathers in their hospital beds made H-…the other guy come out," Natasha said, initiating one of her rare hugs and capturing Peter in her arms. Peter hugged her back.
Uncle Clint nodded, "Steve's already been discharged; he only had some bumps and scrapes from the force of the impact. He refuses to leave Tony's side, though. Apparently they had some sort of promise…?" he trailed off, hoping that Peter would fill in the details.
Peter nodded, breaking Natasha's embrace. "They agreed that if one of them was in the hospital, the other one wouldn't leave until the hurt one's side until he woke up at least once."
Thor stepped forward, shouldering Fury out of the way. "Your fathers would not be hurt at all if they had gotten the leave they requested from the man of rage for your lifeday."
Peter froze. "Papa and Dad were going to visit me for my birthday?" Peter felt the anger begin to build as he turned to Fury. "And you…you said no? Don't you understand that I haven't seen my fathers in over two years because of your dumbass missions? My God, I haven't spoken to them since-"
"Petey?" the broken voice of a man Peter loved so well called out from behind him. Pivoting slowly, Peter took in the image of his papa.
His blond hair was a dirty mess, he wasn't wearing a shirt because of the bandage covering his chest. He looked sleep-deprived and badly beaten up.
Peter smiled softly. "it's good to see you, Papa," he whispered as he hugged himself to his father's tall frame. Peter felt his papa's strong arms hug him in return.
"We were-we were going to visit you tomorrow, but Fury-" Peter shushed his father.
"I know. Fury was being an ass as usual and wouldn't let you. Can I see Dad?" Peter asked. Steve nodded and let go of his son, letting him into the hospital room.
As hospital rooms go, this one was fairly plain. The fact that the room wasn't the more extensive room that Tony had sued to have ready for him told Peter of the severity of his dad's condition.
"He-he was shot while flying us with his suit. We weren't paying as much attention to our surroundings as we should have- we were hurrying home so we could see you." Steve stopped talking and gave a short, barking laugh. "It's funny; we haven't seen you in two years, and the first time we do we're in a hospital room and I'm the only one awake."
Peter smiled sadly. "It's like the last time I saw the two of you, only you were the one in Dad's place." As he said his dad's name, his eyes finally hit the figure in the bed. And he gasped.
It wasn't the worst injuries on his dad that Peter had seen. It wasn't the first time that he had seen his his dad unconscious. No. What had made Peter Parker Stark-Rogers gasp was just how much older his dad looked since Peter had seen him two years ago.
"Not seeing you has aged him," Steve said. Not responding, Peter walked slowly over to his dad.
"D-Dad?" Peter questioned, running his fingers through Tony's hair. "Dad, can you wake up for me?"
Tony's eyes cracked open, taking in the sight of his son. "Peter? That you?"
Peter laughed through a sheen of tears. "Yeah, Dad. It's me."
"Is Steve here?" Tony gruffly asked.
Steve stepped beside Peter, putting an arm around his son's shoulders. "Right here, Tony."
"Love you two," Tony said. Steve and Peter glanced at each other, shocked. Tony has always been the most reserved emotionally of the Stark-Rogers family. Hell, Tony had refused to be alone with Peter until he was four years old. Most of the time, Tony was hesitant even to accept affection from his husband. To hear Tony Stark-Rogers saying words of love in public was amazing.
"Tony…is something wrong?" Steve asked hesitantly.
Tony looked at his husband. "'Course errything alright. Yer bof 'ere. Why wouldn't errything be alright?"
Peter leaned over and whispered into Steve's ear, "I think it's the drugs. They're making him freer with his words and emotions."
"Heard that, Petey," Tony slurred. "'snot nice to tell your papa that your dad's high."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep, Tony."
Tony cracked a smile. "Whatever you say, Capsicle." Tony rolled onto his side, making sure not to disturb any of the wires or tubes sticking out of his body. His eyes closed. The awake father and son smiled at each other. Steve gave Tony a gentle kiss on the forehead and Tony's lips twitched. As the pair turned and started for the door, Tony called, "Oh, and Peter?" His son turned around. Tony gave him a soft, exhausted smile. "Happy birthday, son."
Peter glanced at the clock and then gave his injured father a beaming smile.
It was 12:01 AM.