Peter lay on his bed, trying and failing to fall asleep. He'd been lying here since forever and all he'd achieved was boredom.

That night's patrol had not gone as planned. One of the muggers had managed to get a few good hits while another had broken his wrist before Peter had webbed them up.

Mr. Stark hadn't been too pleased when he'd swung over to the Compound using that same broken wrist. The man had all but dragged him to the MedBay to patch him up whilst lecturing him about calling for backup.

Parker, what part of 'don't do dumb shit' do you not understand? Geez kid, I've never met anyone so goddamn stubborn. You're grounded for a week, period.

At that time, Peter had argued as best as he could, but now he grinned goofily that Mr. Stark cared about him enough to worry and even yell when he did something stupid.

The man had warned him that if he broke curfew once again, he would be spending the rest of his summer break polishing the Iron Man suits.

He'd already managed one dangerous escapade last month and had ended up getting turned into a six year old. Sure, that had been taken care of, but Peter never seemed to hear the end of it.

Not to mention the pictures. Mr. Stark seemed to have an endless supply of embarrassing pictures.

But it wasn't all bad. Things had changed after that. Peter felt more comfortable than ever around him and the man himself had turned into a total Dad.

After he'd been released from the MedBay, the billionaire had brought him to the kitchen where he had eaten a bit of dinner. Then he'd been shooed to bed with a gentle squeeze to the back of his neck and an undeniably fond get some sleep, kid.

That felt like ages ago.

He was sleepy and tired but couldn't sleep. It was horrible.

"Hey FRIDAY, could you turn on the lights please?"

"Of course, Peter."

The room was illuminated immediately and Peter blinked owlishly, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Nearly one-thirty.

Bracing himself, Peter lifted up his shirt to inspect the state of his torso.

The bruising was definitely better. He'd probably be sore for a few hours longer and then he would heal completely. His broken wrist would also be fine within a day.

"FRIDAY, is Mr. Stark awake?"

"Yes, Boss is awake. I also took the liberty of informing him that you are also awake, Peter."

Peter groaned and threw himself back into a sleeping position again. "Thanks a lot, FRIDAY. Now Mr. Stark's gonna worry and it's your fault."

"I'm sorry, Peter," the AI sounded far from sorry. If anything, she sounded rather amused (if that was even possible). "It's part of the Nighty-Night Protocol."

As expected, Peter heard soft footfalls along the corridor outside so he shut his eyes and turned away from the door. There was a knock on the door before it opened.

"Wanna tell me why you can't sleep?"

When Peter didn't answer, Mr. Stark walked into the room and sat down on his bed.

He expected the man to poke him in the side or try and tickle him, but he was rather surprised when he felt cool, slightly calloused fingers brushing his hair back. When the same hand gently squeezed his shoulder, Peter rolled over and opened his eyes. "Hi," he whispered, suddenly feeling like a little kid all over again.

"Hey," the genius replied, voice laden with fondness. "Nightmares bothering you again?"

He shook his head. "Can't sleep."

"Hmm. Not tired? Because that can't be it. You were ready to keel over during dinner."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I wasn't gonna keel over, Mr. Stark. And you say I'm dramatic. I'll probably fall asleep in a while, it's nothing I guess."

The man just hummed in response. Kid probably just needed some company.

There was silence in the room and neither said anything. Eventually, Peter's breathing grew heavier and the man was positive the kid was somewhere far away in dreamland.

Tony brushed Peter's hair off his face and leaned down to press a quick kiss to the kid's forehead. "Sweet dreams, kiddo."

Just then his phone buzzed, indicating a text message. Frowning, he pulled it out, wondering who the hell was texting him at this hour.

He read the message once. Twice. And yet again just to be sure.

All that work he'd put in on those fucking Accords had finally paid off.

It really was happening. They were coming back.

Peter yawned and rolled over on to his stomach. He shoved his face into the pillow, trying to shield his eyes from the light streaming in from the window.

"FRIDAY, wh't time's it?"

"It's currently 11:15 am, Peter."

"What? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"According to the Nighty-Night Protocol, you're supposed to complete a minimum of seven to nine hours of sleep at least four times a week and you were falling behind."

Peter groaned into his pillow. He really needed to talk to Mr. Stark about renaming those protocols.

But then again, he wasn't complaining about the extra sleep. He'd been up late last night, working on some updates with his mentor. Mr. Stark had been occupied with something on his mind but Peter hadn't been brave enough to ask. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how to without sounding like he was intruding.

Well, hopefully the following day would be better.

He dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

He walked into the living room to find Mr. Stark on the phone.

"Yeah, May. Don't worry, he's behaving himself. Absolutely. Mmhm... okay. Sure thing, take care. Talk soon."

"What were you talking about me?" Peter asked in lieu of a greeting.

The genius turned around and grinned at him. "Nothing much. Your aunt just wanted to know if you were being a good boy. You're lucky I didn't tell her about you swinging around past your bedtime two nights ago."

Peter felt his cheeks heat up. Trust the man to make him sound like a five year old. "For the last time, Mr. Stark, it's curfew not bedtime."

"Sure thing, Underoos. You're lucky I like you, kid."

"Oh please, you love me, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah don't go around getting cocky about it."

They were halfway through brunch when Mr. Stark spoke.

"Kid, there's something we need to talk about."

Peter immediately combed his mind to find anything that might land him in trouble. "What did I do now? If this is about the tear in my suit from two nights ago, I swear I was gonna tell you about it."

"No i— Wait a sec. You tore your suit? Again? Th— you know what? We'll circle back to that later. So you know how I've been busy the last couple of months with the whole Accords shtick?"

Not really sure where this was headed, Peter nodded.

"I managed to settle the business last week."

"That's great news, Mr. Stark!" Peter knew how many sleepless nights the man had spent trying to figure out those Accords.

"It is a relief, not gonna deny it. The Rogues were pardoned as well. So they're uh... they're coming here."

Peter's hand stilled. "What do you mean here?"

"Here as in the Compound. Not all of them, just two."

"Oh. Which two? Peter tried to make his words sound as casual as possible.

"Barnes and Rogers."

Rogers

A hot ball of anger formed in Peter's stomach when he heard that name.

He hated that man. Hated him with every fibre of his being. Captain Rogers was a liar and an ungrateful friend. Not to mention, a killer.

Peter knew everything. Everything.

But his mentor didn't know that he knew.

"Why? Why do they have to come here?"

"It's not permanent. You won't be seeing them at all, kid. They're gonna be on another floor itself."

Peter didn't want him in the whole building itself, let alone another floor. New York was a big place. They could find accommodation literally anywhere else.

How could Mr. Stark be okay with this? After everything that Captain Rogers had done to him?

"Why would you let them back in here? They don't iesnt deserve your generosity. Especially not Captain Rogers. Not after what he did."

"What a—" The man froze. "You know."

It wasn't a question.

Peter realised there was no point in denying it.

"Yes."

"How long have you known?" He didn't sound angry. Just resigned.

"Nearly three weeks." Peter felt his mouth drying up as his nervousness came on. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn't mean to find out, really. I was messing around in the lab with some stuff when I sorta just... stumbled into it. I swear I wasn't going through your personal files. It was an accident. Look, just please don't be mad. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I didn't want you to have to go through everything again."

Tony sighed heavily as he heard the kid's confession. He wasn't angry. He could never be truly angry at Peter. It was his fault anyway. He should've hidden the file deeper. He hadn't taken the extra precaution since no one else used his personal lab. It was just him and only recently Peter.

He didn't blame the kid. God knew how many times he himself had accidentally found old files while doing research.

He hadn't told anyone about what had happened at the bunker. Pepper and Rhodey obviously knew. They'd found out when he'd shown up all beaten up and shattered.

He hadn't been able to hold it in when he'd seen his two favourite people. The truth had just spilled out.

He was only sorry the kid had to see all that. He hadn't been at his best and the last thing he'd wanted was for Peter to see that side of him.

"It wasn't Barnes' fault. He wasn't himself." It had taken him a while to believe those words.

But he didn't blame him. Not anymore. James Barnes was a victim.

Rogers was a different story altogether.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, kid."

The kid looked at him incredulously. "With all due respect, Mr. Stark, that's total bullshit."

Tony raised a surprised eyebrow at the kid. Peter Parker never swore. It was actually a little disturbing to hear.

"It wasn't your fault. You were angry. Just like anyone in your place would've been. It's Captain Rogers' fault. He lied. He hurt you. If anyone should be sorry, it's definitely him. So don't you dare blame yourself."

Tony stared at the kid with a mixture of fondness and gratitude. "When did you get so smart, Underoos?"

Peter grinned at him mischievously. "What can I say? I have a great mentor."

The genius rolled his eyes, secretly pleased and ruffled the kid's hair. "Couldn't agree more." He then flicked Peter's ear. "And don't swear. It's unbecoming."

The kid shot him a look. "Seriously? You're saying this?"

"I can pull it off. You're six."

"That was a month ago."

"Whatever, kid."

Peter was silent for a while before he spoke up again. "So they're really coming back? Mr. Stark, will you be okay?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the kid that he'd be fine, but he caught himself just in time.

The betrayal still simmered and reared it's ugly head up once in a while and there were those few odd nights where the nightmares were bad.

But other than that, he felt okay. Sure, his life had been turned upside down a couple of months ago but he was better now. Honestly.

"I am okay, kid. Promise."

Peter relaxed at that. "Okay. So when are they coming?"

"Tonight."

"Oh. Well, I want you to know that I'm on your side, Mr. Stark. Always."

Geez, kid sure knew exactly what so say.

"So how about we fix that suit of yours today?"

The Spiderling nodded, looking mildly sheepish.

"Good boy. Now grab your suit and get your ass down to the lab."

"Yes sir!"

Normal.

For a long time that word hadn't existed for Bucky Barnes. He'd forgotten what it meant. He wasn't sure if he knew any better now.

Sure all those months of treatment in Wakanda's labs had cured him significantly, but he didn't really feel like a person.

Sometimes when he lay in bed at night, unable to sleep, his mind flashed back to simpler times.

He tried to be better for Steve, truly he did. But every time Steve looked at him with those goddamn hopeful blue eyes of his, Bucky felt crushed by the weight on his shoulders to be... normal.

He wasn't that person anymore. The Bucky that Steve had known was charming, laid back and confident.

The new Bucky was anything but confident, he couldn't carry on a decent conversation if his life depended on it and he was the definition of awkward, always nervous and unsure.

He was a mere shell of a man: consumed by the guilt and weight of his heinous sins.

And with each passing second, his nervousness only grew.

Why?

Because with each passing second, the jet in which he had been put on was taking him farther away from Wakanda and closer to New York which meant right into the home of Tony Stark.

Now, Steve didn't know this but Bucky was fucking terrified of him. Or more specifically, he was terrified of facing him. And ashamed.

Bucky wasn't stupid. He knew damn well that Stark could've killed him and Steve in the bunker that night without breaking a sweat.

But he hadn't.

Which makes him twice the man you'll ever be.

After everything that had happened between them, he would be living under the man's roof.

The moment he'd gotten on the jet, he'd promised himself one thing: if Stark tried to kill him this time, Bucky would submit. He wouldn't fight the man, he'd surrender. Because God knew he didn't deserve to be alive after everything he'd done.

With a painful grunt, he flexed his new metal arm. Princess Shuri has designed it so it was amazing: super strength, better mobility and response. But it didn't exactly feel right. Some days his shoulder hurt worse than others but he didn't complain. He could deal with a little pain. After all, he deserved far worse.

He looked to his right where Steve was staring out of the window, deep in thought and his brow furrowed.

"Steve? You okay?"

They were the only ones on the jet. The others had gone separate ways. Lang and Barton had gone back to their families, Wanda was off to meet Vision and Natasha... well no one ever knew where she was.

Steve had nowhere to go and neither did Bucky.

That was just an excuse. The main reason being Steve had said he wanted to make amends.

The blond man turned to face him. "I will be, Buck. Once I've seen him. I need to make things right, to apologise. He didn't even call."

Bucky raised a disbelieving eyebrow at his best friend.

"Are you for real? Did you honestly expect him to pick up the phone and call you? We beat him up and ran like cowards. We left him for dead, Steve! Dead!"

And just like that, Steve's face crumpled with guilt. "I know," he whispered. "He needs to know, Buck. He needs to know how much I regret what I did. Everything. The lying, the fighting... all of it. I don't expect forgiveness. Not after... I just want him to know that I'm sorry. I truly am."

Bucky sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the seat.

Steve wasn't the only one.

And that's the first chapter. Let me know what you think about it. If you guys have read my previous works, you will know I'm a sucker for Irondad fluff.

More interaction between the characters coming up in the next chapter.