It had been seven days.

Seven days since Peter had woken up.

And seven days since they found out that the team had lost contact.

Bruce had cleared Peter to leave the infirmary fairly quickly. He determined that Peter had all of his Spiderman abilities back, and put him back on his normal calorie intake. He gave Peter and Tony strict instructions for Peter to rest, and gave permission for Peter to leave.

Peter had tried sleeping in his room the first night, but he was woken up by a nightmare. Unable to go back to sleep afterwards, he made his way to his Dad in his lab.

His dad had shifted his focus from researching Peter's ailment to trying to track Papa, but so far, he hadn't been successful. Peter knew without being told that his Dad hadn't been sleeping much while Peter was in a coma, and it didn't surprise him that he hadn't been sleeping since they didn't know where Papa was.

Dad was hunched over the keyboard, he hand supporting his chin, when Peter arrived.

"Dad?" Peter said, and his dad jerked upright at the noise.

"Peter? Are you okay?" He asked, his voice somewhat panicked.

"I had a nightmare." He admitted, and Dad patted the seat next to him, so Peter walked over and leaned into his Dad, drawing comfort from his warmth.

"Find anything?" He asked, already feeling like he could go back to sleep. His dad was a safe place, and he smelled like coming home, and Peter was tired.

"Not yet, bambino." He sighed. "You want to tell me about your nightmare?"

Peter shrugged. "Not really." He didn't want to get into the fear he knew was irrational that his dads didn't look for him. First, now that he was rescued, he obviously knew that they had. And even when he was held captive, he was constantly telling himself that of course they were looking. Dad didn't need to hear that he had doubted them while Papa was risking his life on a mission to save Peter's.

Dad didn't push, and it wasn't long before Peter fell asleep on his shoulder.

He ended up doing the same thing the next night, but by the third night, Dad suggested he come on down to start with and sleep on the couch he kept in his lab. Peter agreed that that was probably a better idea, and so he stayed with his Dad. Peter made sure that he got some sleep too. And he made sure he was eating and taking care of his daily hygiene.

Peter knew his Dad would take care of him - and he knew that it was his job to take care of his Dad.

—-

Steve stumbled blindly into the Compound, Nat and Clint right behind him. It was late - middle of the night late - and they were exhausted. Their mission had taken longer than expected - much longer. They hadn't even been able to get what they were looking for, they had to go underground to avoid being captured and killed.

That had meant no contact with anyone, even Tony. Steve had blocked his thoughts of his husband and his son, unable to think about them without panicking. But now, going up the elevator to the infirmary to check on his family, he couldn't keep the anxiety fully at bay. He was worried - what if… what if Peter hadn't made it until Steve got back? And they hadn't even found something to help - what were they going to do now?

Besides the fact that he would never forgive himself for not being faster and for not being there, if Peter died… and Steve wasn't there… he didn't know if his husband would be able to cope. At all.

Clint and Natasha had each immediately gone to their own rooms, telling Steve they would debrief the next day. Steve stepped off the elevator and paused. The infirmary was dark. Not dark in the sense it was the middle of the night - dark like nobody was in there. There were always lights on when the infirmary was in use.

Steve stepped hesitantly into the room and confirmed what he suspected - nobody was there. Not Tony, not Peter. He felt his breath start to come shorter and tried to force himself to breathe.

Their bedrooms were only the next floor down, so before Steve went all the way down to the lab, he detoured. Tony was not in their room - though that was no surprise to Steve. Anytime Steve was gone for even a night, it threw Tony's entire schedule off. His husband, ever the insomniac, needed Steve there to keep him in line.

Steve checked Peter's room next. He couldn't tell if it looked any different than from before he left. It was still messy, the bed was unmade.

Steve's heart was hammering in his throat as he got back onto the elevator, leaning against the wall in exhaustion, as he headed to the lab.

He saw Tony immediately, his heart breaking at the exhaustion he saw on his husband's face. His heart almost stopped when he didn't see anyone else. He had half expected to see Peter, up and chattering next to Tony, keeping him occupied until Peter fell asleep, leaning against his husband or with his head on the desk. It was how he had found them many nights before.

Steve took a tentative step forward, and the door opened silently.

"Tony," He breathed out, almost silently. But there was no other noise in the room, and Tony jolted, whirling around.

The expression on his face morphed from pain, to anxiety, to recognition, to peace. Tony took a step forward straight into his husband's arms.

"Oh my God, you're alive." He mumbled, reaching up and pulling Steve down to kiss him. Both of them had tears streaming down their faces.

"I'm here, Tony." He whispered. "Tony, Peter's not in the infirmary. What-"

Steve froze as a mop of curly hair appeared from the other side of the couch. "Dad? What's going on?" The head turned towards them, yawning and stretching, his eyes squinted shut. Then the eyes popped open wide, seeing Steve. "Papa?" Peter breathed out.

Steve couldn't even form words, he was so relieved to see his son up and talking, but Peter didn't wait for a response. He launched himself over the couch and into his Papa's arms. "Papa, you're alive." Peter was crying now too, and all three of them held each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Steve finally pulled back, cupping Peter's face in his hands. "When did you wake up?"

"About a week ago." He told him. "Bruce doesn't know why. But all my powers are back and he can't detect the drugs in my body anymore."

"A week," Steve murmured, studying his son. "That's good, that's so good, Pete."

Peter leaned back into Steve's chest. "I've been taking care of Dad."

"That's good, he needs someone to take care of him." Steve said seriously.

Tony started sputtering. "I'm right here and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Tony mock glared at them.

"That's why I have to remind you to eat, and to shower, and to shave…" Peter trailed off, laughing.

"What about sleeping?" Steve said dryly to both his husband and his son.

"Well, I've been sleeping." Peter crossed his arms. "It's the only thing I couldn't make him do." He grumbled, looking guilty.

"Relax baby, I'm well aware of what Dad is like." Steve told his son. He reached out and took his husband's hand, squeezing it gently. "Think you could sleep now?"

"Yeah." Tony murmured. "I'm sure I could sleep now. Both my boys are safe."

They made their way to bed, stopping to tuck Peter in, ignoring his joke that he was 16, not 6.

They barely changed into pajamas before crawling into bed and into each other's arms.

"I've been so worried about you." Tony whispered to Steve.

"I know, Tony. I'm so sorry." He whispered, "I didn't mean to worry you."

"I'm not mad," Tony promised. "I just - I'm really glad you're home."

"Me too."

—-

Peter should have been able to fall asleep easily, and he definitely shouldn't still be having nightmares. He was alive, his dads had found him. His Papa was home, alive and seemingly in good condition, besides being tired.

But it took Peter another hour to fall asleep, and even then it wasn't restful

His dream had been the same thing every night since he had woken up.

He was back in the basement, tied up again.

But this time, when the man came down, he taunted Peter.

"Your dad's aren't even looking for you," He said with a sneer. "They think you ran away again."

"No, no. I wouldn't, I wouldn't!" Peter cried out.

"When I called them with my demands, they hadn't even realized you were missing."

"No. You're lying!" Peter was sobbing now. "You're lying!"

"Am I?" He asked cruelly. And then his face shifted to his Dad's.

"Don't you realize that we have better things to do than worry about where you are all the time?"

"No!" Peter cried, thrashing in his restraints. Then the face shifted again, this time to his Papa.

"Peter, it's just too much. We can't keep putting our lives on hold for you anymore."

"I'm sorry!"

"Peter!" His Papa's voice said.

"No!" He tried to move his arms.

"Peter!" Dad's voice this time.

"No!" Peter finally broke free of his restraints and flew from the chair, and then he finally woke up, shooting upright in his bed.

His hands were in his hair and he was sweaty and out of breath. He could feel other people on either side, and it took him a moment to realize it was his dads.

"I'm sorry." He flopped back onto his pillow, unable to keep his frustration out of his voice. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble. Please go back to bed. I'm so sorry." Peter covered his face with his hands and just sobbed. Even with all the stories and all the tears since he had finally come home - from the time he ran away, not the kidnapping - he had never felt so utterly broken before.

"Peter, baby-" His Papa started, but Peter didn't let him finish.

"No! Go away!" He sobbed. "Leave me alone!"

Peter felt them both move, but was surprised when he felt the bed dip on either side of him.

"Alright, bambino." Dad said quietly from his left. "Just cry."

"I - I said leave."

"We aren't letting you push us away." Papa said, quiet but firm. "I don't know what your nightmare is about, or what is going through your head right now, but you can't push us away. Understand?"

Peter was getting frustrated. "Can't you see I'm not worth it? Can't you see that? I'm fine! I'm fine."

"Not worth it? Not worth what, baby?" Papa asked gently.

"You risked your life for me." Peter sobbed. "You could have died. And Dad wouldn't have been the same. And I can't take care of him the way you can. All I do is cause more pain to you both!"

"No, Peter." Dad said gently. "You are such a joy in our lives. I'm sorry you saw the way I was when Papa was missing. That wasn't fair to you. But I was ten times worse when you were missing and when you were in a coma. And so was Papa. And we would risk our lives every day if it meant saving you, protecting you."

"I can't be the reason you aren't happy. I can't be the reason one of you dies." Peter was shaking, and his breath had started to come quicker and quicker.

"Hey," Papa was firm now, sitting Peter up. "Breathe with me, Pete. Come on. In. Out. In Out." Peter finally matched his breath to his Papa's. This finally seemed to help Peter break out of the anxiety attack that he had woken up in, and he shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Oh God," Peter breathed out. "I'm sorry. I - I don't know where all of that came from." He had never vocalized those thoughts before - he rarely even allowed himself to acknowledge those thoughts in his own head.

"Don't apologize." Dad said sharply from the other side of the bed, and Peter flinched. "You have nothing to apologize for," Dad added, his voice softer this time.

"Peter, we knew you had insecurities, but we didn't realize just how deep those went." Papa whispered.

"So let's start at the top." Dad looked Peter in the eye. "Peter, you aren't trouble. Taking care of you, being your dads - we chose that. We will always choose that. You aren't a burden, you aren't an obligation. We are the parents, not you. Nothing you ever do will be 'too much trouble' for us." His dad used one hand to do air quotes.

"Peter, you can't ever push us away." Papa reiterated. "Beyond that, I will continuously choose to risk my life for you if that's what you need." Peter opened his mouth to argue, but his Papa stopped him. "Peter, you risked your life to save us once. When you ran, you risked your life to save us. And you almost died, over and over and over. You could have frozen to death, you could have starved to death, you could have been killed in the course of being Spiderman. Do you disagree with any of those statements?" Peter silently shook his head. "Think about how it makes you feel when we risk our lives for you." Peter nodded his acknowledgement. "We feel ten times worse when you risk your life for us." Peter sucked in a breath, starting to understand. "It's our job to protect you. You can't take that away from us, it's the most important job we have. Do you blame us for your decision to leave to protect us? If you had died, would you have decided it was our fault?"

"It was my decision." Peter scoffed. "I made my choices. And I wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself." He felt like everything was shifting into focus again. "Oh."

"Oh." Dad mimicked with a little laugh. "You're our baby. And Pete, if one of us dies-" His dad took a deep breath - "The other one will not abandon you. Neither of us would ever leave you willingly. I know I struggled this week without Papa around. I'm so sorry. I didn't see how much you were struggling with what had happened, what was happening. But we would have gotten through it, together. I promise. And regardless, it would not have been your fault. We would never blame you. You aren't responsible for taking care of us." Dad's voice was firm.

Tears were streaming down Peter's face as he heard nothing but truth coming from his dads.

Dad and Papa both moved closer to him, holding him. "Is that what your nightmares have been about?" Dad asked him.

"Sort of." He shrugged. "I - when I was kidnapped-" Peter halted. "I was worried that you weren't looking for me."

Dad froze and Papa shot upright. "Why would you ever think that?" Papa asked him.

"I-I-I-" Peter stuttered, realizing now that he was going to sound ridiculous. "It's stupid." He whispered. "I know it is. But I can't-" He shook his head. "I was worried that maybe you thought I had ran again - Dad and I have talked about that already, I know. And I was worried that if you thought that you wouldn't look for me. And I was worried-" he stopped and shook his head. "I was just worried."

"What else?" Dad asked. "What else were you worried about? There's something, you were about to say it."

"It's unfair and hurtful, and I know it's not true." Peter mumbled.

"Doesn't matter." Papa said. "We want to know what's going through that brilliant head because we can't reassure you if we don't know the fear. Fear doesn't have to be rational or rooted in something."

Peter closed his eyes, not wanting to see their reactions to his words. "I was worried you wouldn't realize I didn't come home from school." he choked out.

Dad turned Peter's head to look him in the eyes. "Peter, baby." He breathed out. He wasn't bothering to stop the tears that were streaming down his face. "Before you ran away, we were failing you." He held up a hand to stop Peter's denial. "You made a valid point in our argument that night, that we had barely seen you in the previous months. We won't ever be those parents again. We want to see you, we want to know you. We want to be those parents who know their kids schedule and when they deviate from it. We want to be those parents who know something is bothering you without you having to say it."

"You are." Peter protested.

"We are now." Papa corrected. "Or, we at least try very hard to be now. But we were failing you before you ran away, and you running was a major wake up call for us. You don't have to apologize for that fear - it's our fault it exists in the first place."

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, though he felt better after sharing with his dads. He had shared, and they were still here. He had shared, and they still loved him. They reassured him.

"We're sorry too, baby." Papa murmured. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I do." he yawned. He was exhausted.

Peter didn't get a response from either of his dads. He glanced at his Dad, and could see that he was asleep, and he gently turned to see his Papa had nodded off too.

So Peter pulled the blankets around them and burrowed into his Papa's side.

And he wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

AN: So this was the last chapter of this fic! I hope everyone enjoyed it. I have two others stories already written that I'll be posting in this series. I don't really have any other ideas planned for it, but if you have something you want to see, let me know. I make no promises, but I will consider every suggestion.

Also, I do have COVID so that's fun. I started posting an Encanto fic last night, so feel free to check that out.

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story and favoriting, following, or leaving me reviews! It means a lot to me!