Days had passed and Peter was still nearly mute. The team tried to get him to laugh, talk, anything that wasn't an empty look and a shoulder shrug. They had no such luck. Tony couldn't even get Peter to talk about what happened. Any time he brought it up, the teen would curl in on himself and tremble violently. Peter was balled up on the couch after a mandatory movie night. Almost everyone had left to go to sleep. Natasha, Bucky, and Peter were the only stragglers. Nat continued to sit in her seat, examining Peter from a distance, trying to figure out what was going through his head. Bucky disappeared momentarily and returned with 3 steaming mugs of "magic cocoa." He set them down on the coffee table and Nat raised an eyebrow.
"It would've been rude not to offer you one," Bucky mumbled in response before sitting next to Peter. The super soldier settled a pillow in his lap and, without prompting, Peter rested his head on it. Nat blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected to see such a soft side to the man. Bucky ran his fingers through Peter's curls just like he had the last time.
"You're putting everything on your shoulders again," Bucky began softly. Peter was quiet for a few minutes.
"He's dead, Mr. Barnes," Peter whispered. Nat took a mental note of the statement while Bucky waited for him to continue.
"He shot at me and the bullet bounced back and killed him." Bucky pulled his hand away and turned Peter's face to make eye contact. He could tell the teen was fighting back tears with all his might.
"It wasn't your fault," Bucky said with conviction.
"But, if I had just taken the bullet—"
"No. It wasn't your fault," the man repeated with the same unwavering honesty. He stared into Peter's misty blue eyes until the younger broke down.
"It wasn't my fault," Peter sobbed. Bucky wrapped his arms around Peter's torso and pulled him into a hug just as Steve would have. A wet patch formed on his shirt from Peter's salty tears. Bucky held the distressed teen against his chest until Peter fell asleep. Even then, Bucky still didn't move. Nat approached them with a blanket and an extra pillow. She stuck the pillow behind the super soldier's head then covered both men with a blanket.
"It looked like you planned to stay there," she explained nonchalantly. Bucky shot her a thankful glance.
"You're experienced in this?" Natasha asked as she gestured to him and Peter.
"I've been where he's at. Nobody else seems to know what to do, so I stepped up." Nat smiled gently and brushed some stray locks of hair out of Peter's face. He looked so at peace asleep against Bucky's shoulder.
"You did well. Thank you, Bucky," Nat said genuinely. The man nodded and shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable. It would be a long night, but it would be worth it.
There was murmuring and flashes of light. Peter slowly opened his eyes to see he wasn't in the privacy of his bedroom. Instead, he was laying on his stomach on a strange, hard surface. As he registered his surroundings, Peter realized that the "strange, hard surface" was actually the chest of Bucky Barnes, and the murmuring and flashes were coming from the rest of the Avengers who were taking pictures. They were taking pictures! Peter shot up into a seated position so quickly that he fell off the couch. The teen's face was tomato red. Bucky sat passively in the same spot, knowing that he had enough dirt on everyone in the room to keep them quiet.
"Sleep well?" Rhodey asked playfully as he helped Peter to his feet. Peter's eyes darted over to Bucky momentarily and he smiled, remembering the weight that was lifted off of him. The teen nodded.
"Great, actually," Peter chirped.
"Bucky is rather cuddly," Steve joked as he patted his close friend on the back. Steve had noticed the mugs of cocoa and caught on to what the two were doing (although he did wonder who the third mug belonged to). Tony rubbed his hands together.
"Time to make some morning grub. Care to help, Pete?" Peter nodded and followed Tony into the kitchen, stepping lighter than he had in days. Once the two were alone in the kitchen, Tony pulled Peter into a tight hug.
"I don't know what happened between you and Barnes last night, and I don't need to. I'm just so glad to see you smile again." Peter's chest felt warm and fuzzy at Tony's words. He hugged back just as tight.
"I'm glad to be back." Tony reluctantly pulled away and ruffled Peter's hair.
"Let's get to cooking," the man proclaimed before heading over to the pantry for supplies. The duo whipped together a breakfast feast of eggs, bacon, waffles, a plethora of fruit, and creamy oatmeal. Peter proudly set the table as the rest of the team was pouring in.
"This smells great, Peter," Bruce complimented and took his seat. Peter smiled bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Thanks, Dr. Banner."
After a few weeks, some more cups of "magic cocoa," and a team that felt like family, Peter began to recover from the robber's death. School was starting up again and Tony made the offer for Peter to continue living at the Tower under the guise of being Tony's intern. Peter considered it and, with a little pushing from Aunt May to "go do his Spidey thing," he accepted. It felt strange getting dropped off at school in a black and gold Cadillac instead of the dingy school bus that he usually took. Everyone stared, wondering what rich, royal, foreign exchange student would be joining them. Instead, they saw Peter in his pi-pie shirt step out of the car, lacking any sense of "princeliness." Peter ignored the quiet murmurings as he walked to his first-period class. He spotted Ned seated near the front of the class and took the chair next to him with a sigh of relief.
"Hey, Ned. How was your summer?"
"Great! I spent most of it at Space Camp. Wish you were there with me, but you had way cooler things to do," Ned referenced Spider-Man with a wink. Peter laughed and rolled his eyes playfully.
"Anyways, how was your summer?" Ned asked. Peter took a breath to answer, but Flash interrupted him.
"He spent it with a mouthful of Tony Stark's dick! That's how you got the internship, isn't it?" Flash mocked. Some students laughed while others whispered to each other, no doubt starting rumors. Peter's heart thumped in his chest, he tried to keep a handle on his breathing like Tony had taught him. 4 seconds in, 5 seconds out. It wasn't working, mainly because Flash's face was still shoved into Peter's personal breathing space.
"I don't hear you denying it," Flash sneered with his hand cupped around his ear.
"Shut up, Flash," Ned shot back.
"Parker can tell me that himself! Oh, wait, no. He can't. He has to swallow first!" There was an uproar of laughter in the classroom. Peter stood from his seat and silently walked out of the classroom with his head down. He went to the nurse's office.
"I feel sick. Can I please go home?" Peter mumbled. He had made a habit of asking to go home sick after Flash's particularly cruel stabs over the years. The nurse sighed and gave him an exasperated look.
"Already? Class hasn't even started yet." Peter waited by the door as he wrung his hands anxiously.
"Please," he begged quietly. The nurse sighed again.
"Fine. But, I have to contact your guardian." She opened her binder of student information.
"Parker, right?" Peter nodded and left as soon as she waved him off. Peter cut across the school parking lot and took the sidewalk down to a park that was only a few streets away. He found an empty bench to sit on and stared at the trees in front of him. Peter dug his nails into the inside of his wrist until it bled and the soft skin was raw and stung. He lost track of time sitting on that bench, listening to the swirling thoughts repeating how worthless he was, how undeserving he was, how he shouldn't be wasting air by being alive. He was pulled out of his downward spiral of self-hating thoughts by his phone buzzing. Peter numbly answered it.
"Peter, the school just called and said you were sick," Tony stated. Peter swallowed thickly, he figured the school would still have Aunt May as his contact.
"Yeah, I wasn't feeling well." The teen scared himself with how robotic his voice sounded. Tony seemed to notice it too.
"Pete, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Mr. Stark. I'll walk back to the Tower. The fresh air will help." Peter's voice remained monotone, which only made Tony worry more.
"That's a 15-mile walk. Happy is coming to pick—" Peter hung up on Tony and left his phone sitting on the park bench. He knew the man would use it to track him and Peter needed to be alone. He slipped his hands into his pockets. His palms and wrists were caked in dried blood. Peter casually strolled down the street, if you were to pass him by you wouldn't think anything was wrong. Inside, Peter was screaming, raving, sobbing, screeching, anything but calm. He considered his options: hanging, falling, bleeding, train, car, or gunshot. The last one had a bitter irony to it. Spider-Man was created from a shooting, wouldn't it be poetic if he was destroyed by one as well? After all, it was easy to get mugged if you were a young student with expensive shoes all alone on the bad side of Queens. He walked towards the lower side of the city where he patrolled most often. Just as Peter was about to turn down an alleyway he knew was bad news, he felt the cold barrel of a 9mm being pressed against the back of his head.
"I want your money, now." Peter could tell by his voice that the man was nervous, which meant he was more likely to be trigger happy. Peter held up his hands.
"I don't have any." Usually, that got them angry enough to slip up. The man scoffed and ripped off Peter's backpack.
"This will do. Don't turn around or I swear I will fucking shoot you."
"You will?" Peter immediately turned to face him. The man looked confused and concerned by Peter's actions.
"I warned you! Now you're dead!" He pressed the gun to Peter's forehead and hesitated, his hands shaking violently.
"Come on. Do it," Peter encouraged through gritted teeth. He thought he would have been scared to die, but Peter really just wanted it to be over with already.
"What the hell is wrong with you, man?!" The mugged went to pull the trigger again but continued to hesitate. A whoosh of light blew the man into the alley wall and knocked him out. Iron Man landed in front of Peter. His mask flipped open and Tony looked pissed beyond description.
"You've got some explaining to do." That was all Tony said before the mask flipped back down with a clank. He grabbed Peter and flew off.
