Sorry for the delay, this chapter didn't want to come together. Thank you so much to everyone who is reading!
TearDrop: It's okay. He's not a bad dude, just messed with the wrong couple hehee.
As always, please let me know if I missed anything during my edit.
Peter pushed Sam into the backseat of the taxi then slowly slid in next to him. Sam didn't argue or try to fight, instead he sighed and leaned his head against the glass of the window. Peter leaned up and gave the driver his address, then settled into the seat, thoroughly drained. The rush of adrenaline started to dissipate and he was able to begin what was going to be a long process of sorting through everything which had happened that evening.
Next to him, Sam was quiet. Peter had so many questions, but decided it was best to wait until they got home. Home. He wondered if Sam missed his home. Being so far from his family must have been hard on the young hero. When the team had briefly moved in with him, Sam had clung to Aunt May like a surrogate mother.
The silence stretched between them and Peter sighed. He berated himself for how he handled the situation in the kitchen. He knew Sam could take care of himself, but the need to protect his friend had been too great. Without his helmet, Sam was just a regular guy. Sure, Sam had gone through the same SHIELD training, but his powers came from his helmet. And he really didn't like the sight, or even the idea, of someone else touching Sam. He had never been possessive, or jealous, before; he had never had a reason to. The whole idea of being attracted to someone had been an abstract concept until recently.
Peter clenched his eyes closed, drawing in his brows. The list of things he needed to apologize for just kept growing. It seemed every time he saw Sam he made it worse. He knew he needed to fix the rift which was growing between them. Somehow. Because he knew he could live without dating Sam, without Sam ever even knowing how he felt. He could stand back and watch Sam be with someone else. As long as Sam was happy, and in his life, he knew he would be okay. He needed to make sure Sam stayed in his life. Acting like he had the past week (months) would only serve to push them further apart
Slowly, he reopened his eyes and blinked at the passing scenery. He faced forward again and out of the corner of his eye Peter could see the soft glow of Sam's cell phone.
His heart clenched as he watched Sam copy the number on his hand into his contacts. He turned to look out the window, leaning his head against the cool glass with a sigh. He could still hear Sam tapping away at his phone.
"Um. Peter?" Sam's voice was still raspy as it cut through the silence.
Peter closed his eyes, suddenly very tired. "Yeah?"
"I jus' got your texts." Sam's words were slightly slurred, reminding him that Sam's issues were worse than he thought.
Peter opened his eyes and glared out the window at the traffic. Even at midnight New Yorks traffic was terrible. "What, go to text your boyfriend and finally see them?" He didn't mean for his tone to sound so bitter. Hadn't he just decided he would just live with Sam seeing someone else?
Sam inhaled sharply next to him and turned to look out the window as well.
Peter sighed, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. He reached over to put a hand on Sam's knee, but pulled back just before making contact. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say..." He trailed off when he realized they were pulling into his street.
The cab parked in front his house. He paid the cabbie and opened his door, hesitating when Sam didn't move. He walked around to Sam's side and opened his door. "Sam, lets go."
Sam frowned up at him. "You don't have to be nice to me."
Peter rolled his eyes and grabbed Sam's elbow, pulling him up. "Let's talk inside?"
Sam didn't struggle and let Peter lead him into the house. Once inside, Sam took a seat on the large plush chair and stared around the living room.
After a few moments Peter thrust a glass of water in his hands and took a seat on the couch. The physical distance between them was nothing compared to the emotional one. He didn't know where to start, jumping in didn't work out the best for him the last time he tried to have a heart to heart with Sam.
A bit of silver caught his eye and he walked over to the large chair. Peter reached out slowly towards Sam. Sam sucked in a quick breath as Peter pulled the flask from his pocket. Peter stared at it, turning it over. It was intricately engraved with delicate lines and had "JA" on one corner. Too pretty for what it had contained.
"How much? How long?" He tried to keep his tone even, to not let his worry and anger tinge his words. Peter needed to know. He needed to know beyond the affect it may have had on the team. He needed to know beyond the events of that evening. He needed to know because he cared deeply for the teen in front of him, as a friend, teammate, and hopefully more one day. A fleeting memory danced into Peter's mind of Sam believing he wasn't good enough. Had those thoughts caused him to drink, or had the drinking caused those thoughts?
Sam shifted away from him and reached for the flask. "Why do you-"
Peter put a finger over Sam's chapped lips. "Don't you dare ask me why I care." He shivered as Sam's warm breath ghosted over his finger. "You're starting to scare me, Sam. You've been pulling away, you've been so distant for the last few months. Before our fight- shit, you've been like this since you got back from Arizona last summer."
Sam parted his lips to speak, not waiting for Peter to move his finger away. "I, I'm not, Peter..."
He dropped his hand into his lap. Ignoring the sensation of Sam's lips moving against his fingers, Peter asked, "Are you drunk? How much did you drink?"
"Just buzzed...it takes'a lot to get me drunk." Sam snapped his mouth closed as he realized his mistake.
Peter sighed and shook his head. "Why?"
"Why was I drinking tonight?"
Peter wanted to know that too, but it would have to wait. He wasn't going to be distracted. "Why did you start?"
Sam eased the flask out of Peter's grip. "My dad." Sam took a deep breath and continued. "Over the Summer, I found him. But I was too late, he was gone."
Peter squeezed Sam's knee, "Sam, I'm so sorry."
Sam shook his head. "There is still hope, but I have no way...it took me years to find that lead. He escaped the prison before I could save him...some hero, right? My powerless old man saved himself."
"Wait, he's still alive?"
"I don't know."
Peter looked up at Sam, "It's not your fault. And it is no reason to do this to yourself." He motioned to the flask.
Sam turned the silver flask around his his hands. "This was my dad's…He did it -drinking- when he stopped being Nova.." He frowned at the container.
Peter eased it back out of Sam's hands. "And didn't you hate him for it?" It was one of the few details Peter actually knew from Sam's life in Arizona.
Sam was starting at Peter's hand on his knee, "Yes." He sighed and looked back at Peter's face. "But, it helps. I understand him now, it helps numb the sinking pit in my head, Peter."
"Sam." Peter gripped both of Sam's arms. "Numbing it doesn't make it go away, it just pushes it down, helps it grow and fester."
"You sound like Carrie." Sam pushed Peter's hands off his arms. "Look, I've never been drunk while on a mission, okay?"
"Still not okay." Peter shook his head. "Has it affected your grades? Your training? Sam, would you have done...that...tonight if you hadn't been drinking?"
Sam's jaw clenched. "Seriously Parker?"
"Seriously. You had no idea who he was! He could have been a villain's alter ego for all you know! He could have hurt you!"
"Ayurgh!" Sam pushed Peter away from him and stood up from the chair. He grabbed the flask and put it back into his pocket. "I can take care of myself! Who I decided to sleep with is of no concern to you! Or is it because it was a guy? Huh? Because you wouldn't be the first to have a problem with it!"
Peter stood up as Sam started pacing around the living room. "Sam, thats not- no." He ran a hand through his hair. "I couldn't care less if you're gay. Thats not what I'm upset about…"
"Damnit, Parker! We're not all blushing virgins like you, okay?" He clutched his head, "Uh, moving 's not a good idea." He collapsed onto the couch and rubbed his temples.
"Sam, I'm worried about you..." Peter bit his lip and walked over to where Sam was sitting. "You're going to get yourself, or someone else, hurt if you continue like this. Talk to me."
Sam leaned back. "I dont want to talk to you, or anyone else, about it. I'm fine." He raised his voice louder and louder as he spoke, until he was shouting at Peter. "It is my life. We aren't technically teammates anymore, so cut that crap. And you don't have to be my friend if you don't like how I choose to live my life!"
Peter matched his volume, incited by the unsaid accusations. He turned around and pulled at his bangs. "Sam- we are friends. I don't want to see you ruin your life. Is the drinking and sex all you're doing? What about drugs? Huh? When the booze stops numbing you, what will you turn to next?"
Peter knew he was being overly harsh, perhaps exaggerating the possibility of Sam turning to drugs, but he had a driving need to make Sam understand.
"Why do you insist on caring so much?" Sam was standing again, gesturing at Peter as he shouted.
Peter glowered at the hands waving in his face and yelled back "I told you! Has that bucket of yours damaged your hearing? Or is the the alcohol? I care because I am your friend. And because I-"
A knock at the front door interrupted what was probably going to be his confession if he had been allowed to continue. Peter immediately deflated. Had he been about to tell Sam he liked him? While yelling at him? He was immensely grateful -and pissed- at the intrusion.
He left Sam brooding on the couch and opened the door for Carrie, who was standing on his porch with a duffle bag. She stalked past him with a whispered, "Give me five minutes."
Peter closed the door with a sigh and pointed her to the living room.
He shuffled into the kitchen and rummaged around. There wasn't much to eat, but he did find a frozen pizza. After setting the oven to preheat he leaned against the counter with crossed arms. He could hear raised voices from the living room and, although he wasn't purposefully eavesdropping, he did catch a word here and there.
"...-Not okay…"
"But…"
"...SAM...PETER…"
"HELMET…FINE...DRINK…"
Peter sighed, with only hearing a few words he couldn't piece together their conversation.
The oven beeped and he inserted the pizza and set the timer with a light click. He was fairly sure he had heard Sam talk about his Nova helmet. How much did Carrie know? If she knew Sam was Nova, did that mean she knew his secret identity too? There were too many unanswered questions for his liking. Who had a problem with Sam being gay? Was he planning on seeing Casper again? Where did Peter fit in Sam's life now? Would he still have a place in it after high school?
The voices had died down and Peter was torn between staying in the kitchen and trying to hear their conversation. He didn't have to wait long until Carried stomped into the kitchen.
She stopped just past the doorway and pointed towards the living room. "Talk to him. He's a mess."
"I tried, I just made it worse, I think."
Carrie shrugged her shoulders, "Well, try again."
"You're his friend, too." It was an unfair jab, yet Peter couldn't bring himself to care. She had known Sam longer; if she couldn't get through to him, what chance did he have?
From the kitchen he heard the bathroom door slam shut.
"I..think he needs you to…"She trailed off and sighed. "He talks about you, and his other friends, a lot when he comes home. Mostly you. He looks up to you, like you're some genius who will be super famous one day- like Tony Stark…." She bit her lip, "I shouldn't betray Sam's confidence like this...but.."
Peter watched warily as Carrie softly walked closer to him. She spoke in barely a whisper as she continued.
"...Sam promised me he had stopped drinking. He was bad this Summer- I- he - Sam got into a lot of fights this summer...mostly while he was drunk. He somehow managed to keep it from his mom, but I think she knows anyway..." She shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me why, though. But he stopped, he didn't have a drink at all- that I knew about."
It wasn't exactly new information to Peter. And he knew why Sam was drinking, or at least why he had started. But, why now? Was it just a fun thing for him to do? He hoped that was all it was, and not a sign of something deeper. But again he recalled his conversation with Sam from the previous week.
"Carrie, I don't know if he's been drinking here or not. Shit, I have no idea where he go it to begin with.
"I thought you were friends? Have you noticed anything? When he was drinking back home he would just disappear...I'd find him out in the desert or something with a bottle…"
Shit. "He's been distant all year- since he got back from Arizona. We...haven't been on the best of terms the last few months either…"
"Look, I'm only in town for a few more days...I'm just sort of tagging along on my mom's business trip because it coincided with my school's spring break. I've tried to spend as much time with him while I've been here, but he's been very mopey…"
Peter frowned, "Didn't he say anything?"
Carrie gave him a puzzled look. "About what?"
"We've been sort of fighting...and I was an ass about it when he tried to apologize…."
To his surprise Carrie smiled, "He mentioned something." Peter heard the bathroom door open again. ""I'll wait in here if you want to talk in private. Maybe he will be more open?"
Peter nodded and grabbed some snacks. "Would you mind taking the pizza out?"
"Sure."
Peter's legs were heavy as he walked back into the living room. Sam was sitting in the plush chair again, typing away on his phone. His jaw gave an involuntary twitch at the thought of Sam texting with Casper. On the far side of the room, next to the stairs, was the flask. Peter walked over and picked it up. It must have been thrown when Sam and Carrie were shouting at eachother.
He walked around the chair and stopped in front of Sam. "Here." He tossed a snack bar onto Sam's lap. "It's a protein bar. It will help prevent a hangover."
"I'm not drunk." Sam didn't look up from his phone.
Peter sighed and took a seat on the couch, staring at the flask in his hands. He still had so many questions, and he intended to get to the root of Sam's problems. But before he could, he owed Sam a heartfelt apology.
"Sam, I'm sorry I've been avoiding you." Sam looked up when he started to speak. "You didn't deserve the way I treated you." Sam looked like he wanted to say something so Peter paused.
"No, you were right. And I deserved it. All of it. I sucker punched you, I yelled at you...I..." Sam cut himself off and looked down at his lap.
Sam sounded so dejected, so lost. Peter's heart constricted, he hadn't stopped to think how his actions were affecting Sam.
Peter quickly got off the couch, leaving the flask on the cushion, and kneeled in front of Sam. Taking his clammy hands in his own, Peter began to apologize. And Peter found once he started, it poured out of him.
"Sam...Sam, look at me." Peter knew he was close to tears, but he didn't care. Sam had seen him cry once, what was a second time? He needed Sam to look into his eyes and see he was telling the truth.
Sam slowly raised his head and met Peter's gaze. His eyes were bloodshot and his face contorted like the movement caused him physical pain.
Peter opened his mouth, and once he started the words kept tumbling out. "Sam, you're my friend. And we fight, a lot, but that's just us, okay? Because we make up, and go back to normal and then we bicker, and, and, it's just us." He stook a shaky breath, " And I fucked up, and didn't want to forgive you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I pushed you away again. I let my own insecurities get in the way. And I don't care if we keep fighting, and stop talking occasionally, because we always fix it. Right?"
Peter stared into Sam's eyes. He knew some tears had escaped and were rolling down his face, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. Because Sam was in front of him, and he was so close, and he had tears in his eyes too.
Peter gave Sam's hands a light squeeze. "I'm sorry I broke our routine." He smiled up at Sam. "Shit, it's only been a week and I miss you so much." Saying that out loud was liberating. Peter knew it was such an understatement of what he felt, yet Sam seemed to understand.
"I'm sorry I tried to break your jaw." And Sam squeezed his hands back with a small smile. "And...I'm sorry for being such an asshole to you." Sam bit his bottom lip and glanced to the side. "I thought you betrayed me, that you didn't-"
Peter let go of Sam's hands and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. It was awkward, Sam was still sitting on the chair, but after a few heartbeats Peter felt Sam's arms snake around his waist.
Peter pulled back, but not away. "Please, never end our friendship like that again."
Sam pulled him back down into his arms and shook his head against Peter's shoulder. "Never, Pete. I'm so sorry." He let his head rest on Peter's shoulder.
Peter swallowed at their closeness and debated about telling Sam about his feelings. He threw out the idea, Sam needed a friend, someone he trusted. Peter needed to be those before he could be more. He hoped he could earn Sam's trust back and get the other teen to open up about his demons.
As Sam exhaled he could smell the alcohol again. With regret, Peter pulled out of the embrace and leaned back. He looked Sam over and sighed.
"Promise me you'll stop drinking? At Least until you're 21? And even then-"
Sam snapped at him, "Let me live my life! If you don't like how I live it, then stay out of it!"
"Sam, I just got done telling you I want to be your friend. There was an implied forever in there too." Peter knew he was close to treading into the feelings topic. Because, he did mean forever, and felt his heart race at the possibility. "I care, Sam. Carrie cares. Danny, Luke, Ava, MJ- they all care. None of us want to see you get hurt -or killed- because you were drunk or hungover."
With a snort, Sam looked away. "You make it sound like I'm drinking everyday."
"That's how YOU made it sound, Sam."
Silence settled between them like a wedge. Peter knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with the topic that night. But, he did still have one more thing he needed to address.
"And- look, I'm sorry about interrupting you in the kitchen…" Peter blushed, remembering the face Sam had been making. He observed the red marks dotted across Sam's neck and collarbone. They were beginning to darken into bruises.
Sam inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to undoubtedly yell. Peter cut him off.
"I shouldn't have" He looked into Sam's eyes, trying his best to convey how sorry he was. "I know you can take care of yourself, even without your helmet. I'm sorry I panicked."
Sam snapped his mouth shut and studied Peters face.
"I'd do it again, though." Peter surprised himself when the words tumbled out. At Sam's frown he added, "He wasn't respecting your boundaries." And he was touching you, Peter added to himself.
Sam let his gaze drop, but remained quiet. Peter took his hand and turned it so the number written in sharpie was visible. "I'll make it up to you- for ruining your night. 34 days should be enough time for me to save up for a proper birthday gift. Just name what you want- or where you'd like to go."
I felt right to be holding Sam's hand, even in this platonic way.
"You don't need to bribe me to forgive you."
"Sooo, you forgive me?" It was so natural to slip back into their normal banter.
"Feh. I guess."
Peter knew they still had a lot to work out. Even if Sam said he forgave him, Peter knew it would still take some time for them to return to normal. He looked at Sam, who was fumbling with the protein bar, and smiled.
Sam sniffed the bar and made a face. "This smells like cardboard." He sniffed again, this time at the air. "Hey, is that pizza?"
In answer to his question Carrie entered the living room balancing three plates. "Pizza!"
The mood in the house lifted as they ate. Soon, Carrie and Sam were in a light hearted conversation about something Sam's sister had done. Peter hung onto every word, every bit of information about Sam. He didn't miss it when Sam slipped the flask back into his pocket, but didn't call him out. He knew if he pushed too hard Sam would stop opening up.
Peter's phone buzzed and he was shocked to see the time.
[12:43am] MJ: Everything okay? You never text me
[12:43am] Peter: Yes. We're fine. Sam is okay. Him and Carrie are staying with me tonight.
[12:44am] MJ: Good. I'm coming over tomorrow. How is 1?
Peter knew he had his SHIELD evaluation at 11, but he figured he would be home by 1.
[12:44am] Peter: Sounds good.
He put his phone away and stretched with a yawn. There were nights he would patrol until dawn then go to school without a problem. But Peter Parker was exhausted. Emotionally drained. He bid Sam and Carrie good night and climbed the stairs to his room.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would sort through how to help Sam. He just hoped he hadn't lost the best opportunity to confess.
Thank you for reading!
The next few chapters will be a bit more of a quicker pace with some action (which I need to get better at writing!) and some fluff. Would anyone mind if I throw in some more Ava/Danny fluff?
I have a few more fics I'm working on and one will be up soon (another spideynova), and a parksborn that may turn into spideynova because REASONS. Plus, in two weeks(?) It is SpideyNova week4 over on tumblr!
