Happy Saturday and welcome to the Post-Homecoming events.

Thank you for sticking with me through it because I know it wasn't the most interesting arc. We're not in a perfect place yet, but the time to bond the characters is coming soon.

Chapter Thirty-Five

September 29th

Peter was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard, with his legs stretched out in front of him. His ribs were still aching, but the wounds on his stomach and chest were healing fast, only raw lines now.

He was lost in his thoughts and started when May knocked on the door and peered in. "You've got a visitor," she said.

Peter's heart skipped in his chest. "Who is it?" He was worried Tony had tracked him down to talk, to discuss what Peter had done, the latest disaster.

Peter avoided Tony at the tower. As soon as he'd woken in the early hours, with May sitting at his side, holding his hand, he'd asked her if they could go home. She'd said Tony wanted to talk to him and had asked to be called as soon as he woke up, but his horrified reaction had not needed further words for her to check with the doctor if he could leave. As soon as they'd been given the go-ahead, she'd bundled him in a blanket and led him down in the elevator, outside, to where she'd hailed a cab for them.

He knew he was being a coward, that he should have stayed and faced Tony, but he didn't want to—he didn't feel ready. May had assured him no one had been hurt apart from The Vulture, and that all the plane's cargo had been retrieved, so he thought he could wait before facing Tony again.

When they did talk, when Tony had been reassured Peter wasn't seriously hurt, Tony would vent his anger, and Peter didn't want to face it.

He didn't want to face him ever again.

He'd messed up, he knew. He'd crashed Tony's plane and could have killed people, but he'd been trying to help—again. He thought he actually had helped this time. He'd stopped all those weapons being made with stolen tech.

But he was sure Tony wasn't going to see it that way.

Pulling himself from his troubled thoughts with May coming to squeeze his hand, he looked up and awaited her answer.

"It's Ned."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I want to see him."

She bent over and kissed his cheek, her hand lingering in his, and then she'd slipped out of the room. A moment later, Ned rushed through the door, spread his arms wide, and said, "Dude!"

Peter smiled in spite of himself. "Hey, Ned."

"What the hell happened? Did you know I got a call from that Happy guy last night? He told me that you were going to be okay and that he was sorry for hanging up on me. He sounded pretty torn up about it."

Peter blinked, surprised. "He was?"

Ned nodded eagerly, crossing the room and dropping down onto the end of the bed. Peter was jostled, and he winced as his ribs stabbed with pain.

Ned missed it, though, rushing on, "What even happened? I saw on the news that a Stark Industries plane was hijacked, which, yeah, I knew, but I didn't know it crashed on Coney Island!"

"Are they saying anything about me? I mean Spider-Man. Do they know I did it?"

"No, Pepper Potts gave a statement and just said it was saved by an Avengers' associate. Wait— Did you say you did it? You crashed a plane? Dude!"

Peter ducked his head. "Yeah, I did. It was my fault. The Vulture got on the plane, and he had rerouted it. All I could do was bring it down. It crashed on Coney Island, and no one was hurt apart from us, but yeah… it could have been really bad."

Ned gaped. "You were hurt?"

Peter pulled up his t-shirt and showed him the wounds and purple bruising.

"Whoa," Ned said. "That's real superhero injuries. So cool."

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "They don't feel cool."

"No, I guess not. But, dude, that was like real superhero stuff."

Peter shook his head jerkily. "No! Superheroes don't risk people's lives."

Ned snorted. "Peter, you need to start paying attention. Yeah, it's not their fault, but the Avengers get people hurt all the time. Like, The Scarlet Witch in Lagos, and Ultron. People are always being hurt!"

"It's different," Peter said quietly.

"How?"

Peter shook his head again. "It just is."

Ned groaned. "Peter, you're doing this all wrong. You saved loads of lives last night. Think about all the weapons they could have made with that stuff. You're a superhero!"

"I'm not," Peter said quietly. "I don't even have a suit anymore. They destroyed my first one last night in the med bay, and Mr. Stark isn't going to give the one he made back."

Ned waved a hand. "Then we'll make you a new one. I'll help. We can make it all kinds of awesome. Sure, we can't make a genius AI for you, but we can do some cool stuff."

Peter smiled slightly. "Yeah, we could, but I don't know if I should be Spider-Man anymore. I'm dangerous."

Ned gripped Peter's shoulders and shook him. This time, Peter couldn't hide the groan, and Ned held up his hands and said, "Whoa! I'm sorry. Dude, I didn't mean— Are you okay? Do you need Tylenol?"

"Tylenol doesn't work on me," Peter said. "My metabolism wipes it out too fast. But I'm okay; just a little sore."

"What exactly happened?"

"Liz's dad, The Vulture, had that wingsuit, and it had claws. He picked me up and dropped me a few times. It hurt, but I'm basically fine."

Ned's eyes were wide as he said, "You know what that was? That was your first supervillain! This is so cool. You've got your origin story done, and now you've faced an archenemy. You're like Captain America facing Red Skull."

Peter smiled in the face of Ned's enthusiasm, though he didn't agree with what he was saying. Peter thought what he'd done was the opposite of what Captain America would do. Still, he knew there was no point arguing with Ned when he was like this.

"Have you heard anything about Liz?" he asked.

"Not from her. It's all over Facebook, though—what her father did. He's being questioned by the police, but he's totally going to jail. You did that, Peter!"

"To Liz," Peter said quietly. "God, she's going to be so upset. She loved him so much, Ned; I saw it when I was at her place. She's going to be wrecked."

"Yeah, but that's not on you; it's on him. He's the one that chose the supervillain life."

Peter looked out of the window for a moment, mind fixed on Liz and what she was going to go through, and then his attention jumped back to the room as his phone rang. He picked it up from the bedside table and then dropped it again when he saw the caller-ID.

"What's wrong? Who is it?" Ned asked.

"Mr. Stark. I can't answer."

"You have to!" Ned said. "It's Tony Stark!"

"Yeah, I know," Peter said, stuffing the phone under his pillow to muffle the ringing. "I know I've got to face him eventually, and I will, but not yet. I can't deal with him raging at me."

Ned frowned. "Dude, he's not going to be angry. You saved his plane."

"I crashed his plane," Peter corrected. "And I did it as Spider-Man, which he wanted me to give up. He's going to be mad, and I don't want to deal with it yet. He'll have to wait."

Ned gaped. "You're ghosting Tony Stark!"

Peter groaned and hid his face in his hands. "Yeah, I know, but I can't handle it right now."

Ned frowned at him. "Okay, I know what you need."

"Yeah," Peter said dully. "What's that?"

"Star Wars and popcorn. I'll see if May's got popcorn, and you can get the DVDs."

"I don't really feel like a movie right now," Peter said.

"But you need a movie," Ned said firmly. "I know what's good for you, Peter, and it's not sitting here and dwelling on what happened and what Tony Stark is going to say to you." He got to his feet and nodded. "You need a distraction, and as your Guy in the Chair, I'm going to give it to you."

He ambled out of the room, and Peter heard him talking to May.

With a groan, Peter swung his legs off the bed, stood, and made for the door. He left his phone behind so he could pretend not to hear it if it rang again. He would face Tony when he had to, but not yet.

He was going to be a coward a little longer.

Steve was patient, knowing Peter needed time, but by the time the third week of Tony's calls being ignored, his texts going unanswered, and his obvious torment came around, Steve knew he had to step in.

He didn't know why Peter was ghosting him, but Tony was determined not to push him, instead, tying himself in knots while he waited for contact. He'd spoken to May after he'd found she'd taken Peter out of the med bay, and she'd said he wasn't ready to talk yet. She'd not said Tony couldn't call, though, so he'd been limiting himself to twice daily calls and texts each morning and afternoon, before and after school on weekdays and noon and dinner on weekends.

It was hurting Tony, though, more than he was even letting them see, Steve knew, so he had to do something. He rode his bike to Queens and parked himself outside Peter's apartment to wait for him to get home from school. He'd knocked first, to see if May was home, but there had been no answer. He'd sat down on the floor and scrolled through his phone until he heard footsteps coming up the stairs towards him.

Peter rounded the corner and stopped dead, his mouth dropping open.

"Hey, Queens," Steve said, getting to his feet. "Good to see you."

Peter nodded. "Uh… yeah… you too."

"Can we go for a walk?"

Peter winced. "Walking around Queens with Captain America isn't really a great idea. I mean, no one would guess I was Spider-Man, but if someone saw me and it got back to school— Flash would think I hired a lookalike for attention, and he already gives me a hard time."

Steve knew about Flash, Peter's school bully. Peter had told him some, but Tony had told him more. Tony had met him at Peter's school science fair, and he said it was a near-miss between talking to him and shoving him aside to get away from the little asshole.

He'd made the right choice as far as his reputation went, but Steve understood the desire as he'd have felt the same.

"Then can we talk here?" he asked.

Peter nodded, skirted around him, and unlocked the door. He gestured Steve in first, and he entered a small but fairly neat apartment. It was homey, with framed pictures of Peter at various ages with his aunt and a man he recognized from the BARF simulation as Peter's Uncle Ben.

He followed Peter into the kitchen and saw report cards—with excellent grades—pinned to the refrigerator. It was a family home, and it reminded Steve of his own, where his mom would pin-up his sketches.

"Uh… do you want a coffee or a soda?" Peter asked.

"A soda would be great."

Peter took two Cokes from the refrigerator and handed one to Steve, then said, "Shall we sit down?"

"That'd be nice," Steve said, sensing Peter's unease and trying to make him more comfortable.

Peter pulled out a seat at the table and sat down, his hands clasped around his can without opening it. Steve popped the top of his own and took a swig.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

Peter shrugged. "Fine. I don't even have scars anymore, which is good."

"That's great, but it's not what I meant. We're worried about you, Peter. We've not heard anything from you since you took off out of the med bay in the middle of the night. You're not answering Tony's calls."

Peter flinched. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I just…"

"You just what?"

Peter ducked his head. "I'm not ready to talk to him yet."

Steve sighed. "I get that, but he'd really like to talk to you. He feels bad about what happened."

"So do I!" Peter said, head snapping up. "Really. I didn't know what else to do. I had to stop The Vulture. I know I crashed the plane, and that was so wrong, but I…"

"No," Steve said softly. "Tony isn't angry. He's worried about you. When he saw you on the beach, hurt like that, he was terrified. The only reason he wasn't at your bedside when you woke up is because your aunt warned him away."

Peter frowned. "But I was Spider-Man again, and he didn't want me to be."

"He was wrong," Steve said, framing the words carefully. Tony did want Peter to be Spider-Man, he was proud of what his son achieved in the suit, but he had been forced into a position to stop him for his own good. "Tony cares about you a lot. He's really been torn up these past few weeks without being able to talk to you. He feels horrible about what happened."

Peter looked bewildered. "I don't understand. I messed up."

Steve smiled. "That means you're one of us. We all mess up. Believe me, I've made mistakes."

Though they had not happened this time, Steve had hidden the truth of Howard's death from Tony; he fought him in Siberia and crushed his suit with his shield.

"I could have killed someone," Peter said quietly.

"You could, but you didn't. After what happened at the school, Tony was forced into a position in which he had to take the suit back. He was a mess after, believe me, and he was a mess for weeks after. He's not been right since, especially with you hiding from him." He frowned. "Why are you hiding from him?"

Peter swallowed hard and fixed his eyes on the tabletop. "Because I'm a coward. I don't want him to be angry with me again. Before— I know I deserved it, I gave him no choice, but it was so awful." His voice became harsh. "I really am a coward."

"No, you're not!" Steve said forcefully. "You're braver than anyone I've ever known."

Peter looked up, eyebrows high. "I'm really not."

Steve bit down on his tongue. Peter was braver than anyone he'd ever known, but that was the Peter of 2023. This version of him was brave, and he had that future ahead of him, the strength to put on the gauntlet and snap, but that was not who he was yet.

"I think you're brave," he said awkwardly. "And I think you're brave enough to talk to Tony. He's not angry at you, I promise; he's just worried. And I think you need to talk to him, too, for your own sake. It's hurting you both to be apart like this." He fixed Peter with a look that he tried to impart true meaning into. "He really cares about you, Peter."

Peter shook his head, dismissing the words, and said, "How's Sergeant Barnes?"

Steve was troubled by the obvious avoidance, but he thought he could come back to the topic. "He's okay. He's stuck in hiding right now, which is hard on him, but Bucky's strong."

Peter frowned. "Why is he in hiding? I mean, obviously, he's got everyone looking for him, but why don't you do something about it? What he did wasn't his fault, right?"

"True, but we have no proof."

Peter's eyes bugged. "But you do! Don't you know? You have to know! It's all in those files Black Widow posted online. You have to dig for it, but I did after the whole thing with him that time. They talk about his programming and his missions. It's all there, Steve!"

Steve jumped to his feet, heart pounding in his chest, and lifted Peter out of his chair. "Are you sure?" he asked, gripping his shoulders. "Absolutely sure?"

"Yes. I saw it. I can show you."

Steve raked a hand through his hair. "Yes! Please! Please, show me."

Smiling for the first time since Steve arrived, Peter ran out of the room and came back a moment later with a battered laptop that looked like it'd been built from scraps. He set it on the table and opened it. A home screen met their eyes, and Peter's fingers flew over the keys.

Steve stared in awe as Peter pulled up file after file, shots of Bucky in various states, some under the programming, others with a fire in his eyes, which meant he was himself.

Steve's breaths came fast as he absorbed it all, hope blossoming in his chest.

Peter might just have given Bucky a chance of freedom.

So… Lots of emotion in that one. Peter and Tony will talk soon, I promise. As for Bucky's freedom— That was something I went back and forth on, not sure whether I wanted to dedicate more of the story to that when there is so much more going on. I decided he deserves his freedom, though, so that's coming.

Until next time…

Jadey xxx