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In which Peter has the entire Avengers wrapped around his finger

Chapter Text

Before he had starting dating Tony and consequently marrying him, Steve had never imagined himself having a partner for life. Consequently, he never imagined having a family he could always go home to nor a child to cradle in his arms. It just was not in the realm of possibilities that came with being a super soldier. But if anything could have showed him how wrong he was, it was when he captured the heart of genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist Tony Stark. But Steve could never be warranted more than one miracle; he was being allowed to have a husband who would love and care for him and he had to make due. But now, a few short years after his first miracle, he was granted his second in the form of a tiny, squishy, giggly, and precious newborn.




Steve no longer yearned to see all the wonders of the world and universe. It was right here in his arms. The baby looked up at him, letting out a gasp followed by a giggle as he grasped onto the finger that came into his view. Steve grinned, letting Peter gnaw on his ringer finger before a few moments later Tony came into view and replaced it with a pacifier before picking Peter up from his husband’s arms.


“Come on you little munchkin. It’s time for your bath,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to the tiny head that was full of soft baby hairs.


Steve grinned, watching as Tony retreated down the hallway with their son in his arms. Today had been unusual as Steve had been out for most of the day while Tony had stayed home with Peter. Usually it was the opposite but Steve had business to attend to at SHIELD and had arrived only a few minutes ago.


Usually Steve would be home with the six month old most days out of the week as Tony was dragged around be Pepper to meetings, conferences and the sort. He would begrudgingly let Tony take over every night when he arrived back home. It wasn’t as if Tony did go the entire day without seeing Peter though because he had promised to divorce Steve if he did not video call with Peter in his arms at least once every waking hour. Tony had stayed home the first three months of course, but there was only so much Pepper could handle with running a company.


“Steve, honey, can you come here for a second?” Tony called out from the bathroom, breaking Steve out of his thoughts.


“Yeah?” Steve asked, stepping into the bathroom where Tony was cradling Peter in his arms, who was stripped out his onesie and clad only in a diaper, pacifier still bobbing in out of his mouth as he sucked on it dutifully.


Tony looked up at him, a hint of worry plastered across his face.


“Does he seem a little warm to you?”


Steve frowned, reaching over to press a gentle hand to the baby’s forehead.


“He didn’t seem warm before,” Tony gasped, anxiety and worry building up. He certainly did now. How could he not have noticed his baby getting sick throughout the day. He hadn’t acted any different than usual. Steve hummed in agreement, leaning down to press a kiss to Peter’s head.


“I’ll get an actual temperature on him if you want to go and get Bruce,” Steve told his husband, taking control of the situation. Tony just gulped loudly before nodding his head. He gently transferred their little bundle of joy into Steve’s arms before running out of the bathroom.


“What are you doing giving us a scare, honey?” Steve murmured, bring Peter up to press a few kisses to his cheek, before cradling him against his chest.


“Okay, buddy. Papa’s definitely not gonna be your favorite for a while after this,” Steve cooed, rocking Peter in his arms before grabbing the rectal thermometer out of the medicine cabinet and heading towards his and Tony’s room.


By the time that Steve got a temperature on Peter, Tony came back, all but dragging a pajama clad Bruce with him and saw Steve hovering over Peter on the bed. Tony hadn’t even allowed the man to put on his slippers before dragging him out of his room and down to their floor.


“He has a fever of 101.2,” Steve informed the two watching as Tony approached them and knelt down next to the side of the bed, face to face to where Peter was laying down and placed a gentle hand on the baby’s tummy while the other offered a finger for Peter to grasp onto.


“When did you go and decide to get sick, sweetheart?” Tony cooed, pressing a kiss to Peter’s tiny fingers. The day had been perfectly normal. Tony had gotten up right at eight a.m., which was considered sleeping in for him. Steve was already gone at the point, leaving just him and Peter who was already awake and let out a happy squeak when Tony peered into the crib and immediately held up his arms for his morning cuddle.


Steve reached over to run his fingers through Peter’s hair before doing the same to his husband, knowing that he was blaming himself at the moment. He leaned down pressing a kiss to the top of Tony’s head. He knew his husband inside in out and he was going to torture himself over this. Steve would have to sit him down and talk to him later about it. But for now their focus was on Peter.


Tony looked up at him, eyes glistening with worry and Steve offered him a reassuring smile in return. He wouldn’t lie; of course he was panicking at the moment as well and he felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest any moment, but out of the two of them, he was more capable of keeping his emotions under control. He had to sacrifice his emotions for Tony’s and Peter’s and he would always do so without a second thought.


Bruce fumbled with his glasses while he placed his doctor’s bag on the nightstand before looking over at the family of three. Based off what he was already told and what the hundreds of pediatric health and medicine bookd had taught him, it was most likely nothing serious. A baby’s immune system was still developing and were prone to the smallest of bugs. Of course, this was his best friends’ first child and they would always be worried about the slightest sniffle like any new set of parents. Not to mention this was his nephew that he adored with all of his heart and more.


“Thanks for coming, Bruce. Sorry we had to wake you,” Steve turn around and offered the man a shy grin. Bruce chuckled and just waved him off with his hand, putting his glasses on before reaching over to open his bag.


“Anything for you guys although Tony could have done it with a little less slapping,” Bruce replied, a small smirk on his face as he got a pediatric stethoscope and otoscope out of his bag.


“It was a gentle love tap,” Tony argued back quickly, not bothering to turn around. He would apologize later.


“Sure,” Bruce hummed, patting Steve on the back as he looked up at the man with a knowing smile and Steve offered him another apologetic look that Bruce shrugged off.


“Let’s take a look at the little tyke,” Bruce instructed. Tony nodded, crawling up onto the bed from the floor before picking Peter, resting him on his shoulder and laid back against the headboard, turning Peter around for Bruce but still had him cradled against his chest. Steve moved towards the foot of the bed to allow Bruce the room he needed. Peter finally noticed Bruce when he hovered over and he let out a huge smile to match the glee in his eyes. Much to Clint and Thor’s dismay, Bruce was Peter’s favorite uncle.


“Not for long,” Clint had stated one day when Peter had held his arms up for Bruce while still in Clint’s lap. He had stared at Bruce with a murderous glare the entire week.


Bruce beamed, gently tickling Peter’s teeny foot and Peter kicked both feet as he laughed to the point of his pacifier falling from his mouth. Tony just shook his head, plopping the pacifier back in place but he did so with a relaxed smile. Even though he hardly had any experience with babies before Peter, never the less sick ones, he knew Peter would not be acting this way if he felt really bad.


Peter patted playfully at his uncle’s hand as Bruce listened to his chest and kept quiet the rest of the exam, only whining when Bruce looked into his little ears but his daddy was quicker than ever in comforting him.


“He’s as healthy as ever,” Bruce stated, turning around to pack his instruments back up and turn around to smile at the two parents. Bruce saw the two physically deflate and he felt bad for not reassuring them sooner.


“The fever?” Steve asked while walking to the side of the bed once Bruce moved away and Tony’s head whipped up to stare at Bruce.


Bruce nodded, running his fingers through his hair. “He’s in the teething age range. Babies tend to have small fevers as a symptom. Sometimes they like to get fevers because they are dressed too warmly as well. Give him a nice lukewarm bath, check his temperature again and it should be down.”


The two fathers sighed in relief and Bruce grabbed his bag once he closed it up.


“I’ll check him again tomorrow at breakfast. But if you don’t need anything else right now, I’m gonna head back to bed. Get me if anything changes.”


Tony looked like he was going to reject that but Steve spoke up first and nodded his head, clasping Bruce’s shoulder and smiled graciously at the man.


“Of course. We’ll be good. Thanks again, Bruce.”


Bruce nodded and came over to the bed to reach down, brushing Peter’s hair back to press a kiss to his forehead.


“Stop worrying your daddies you little troublemaker,” Bruce whispered and Peter giggled almost knowingly at the statement which only made Bruce just chuckle and press another kiss to the baby’s head.


“Goodnight, guys.” And with that Bruce left.


Tony let out a huge breath watching his friend leave and let his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder when he took a seat on the edge of the bed.


“I thought I had done something wrong. The one day I watch our baby and I manage to get him sick,” Tony revealed and Steve pressed a kiss to his head. He knew that Tony was still trying to find a way to blame himself for this even though he could have never prevented it.


“Look at him, Tony. You could hardly call him anything but healthy right now,” Steve told him and the two glanced down at Peter who had forgone the pacifier for one of the button on Tony’s shirt instead. Sensing his parents watching him, Peter stared back and smiled at them.


Tony finally let out his own chuckle, hoisting Peter up onto his shoulder where he peppered the poor baby’s face with kisses.


“You’re gonna run your daddy into an early grave with your shenanigans, mister,” Tony grumbled good naturedly and Peter seemed to be in agreement with a wandering hand slapping Tony gently in the face.


“Oh, I see. You’re trying to get back at daddy for what he did to your Uncle Bruce,” Tony teased, grabbing Peter’s hand and playfully biting at the fingers which only emitted happy noises from Peter and a laugh from his husband.


“Okay, okay. Too much excitement for the night. We still need to give him a bath,” Steve said after a few minutes of him and Tony alternating between tickling and kissing Peter. Peter was slightly red in the face from laughing and Tony had a grin as wide as ever plastered on his face, something that was a rarity before Peter had been born. Now, Steve couldn’t go a day without seeing that grin on Tony.


“I’m gonna give him his bath if you want to get his things ready,” Tony said as he hopped off the bed and grabbed Peter, patting him on the back gently.


Steve nodded and Tony leaned down pressing a kiss to his lips.


“Love you. We won’t take long,” Tony promised and Steve nodded his head once more, cupping Tony’s cheek before letting his husband and son go.


Peter slept through the entire night without a hitch and when morning came Tony was up before Steve and took Peter’s temperature, coming back at a normal range. He sighed in relief once more, setting the thermometer down to peer at his sleeping infant. He heard the rustle of the blankets as Steve woke up and soon he felt his husband’s arms wrapped around his waist and Steve pressed a soft kiss to Tony’s bare shoulder as he pressed his chest to Tony’s back.


“His temp normal?” Steve asked, gently running his hand up and down Tony’s side.


“Yep. Normal as ever,” Tony affirmed and Steve gave his own little sigh of relief, wrapping his arms tighter before Tony turned around and Steve moved his arms from his husband’s waist instead to cup Tony’s face and pressed a long kiss to his lips.


“Ew, get a room,” Clint commented as he pranced into the room, grabbing the door before it hit the wall.


“First, you asshole, this is our room,” Tony replied, as he went over to one of the drawers to grab a shirt. “Two, do you not know anything about privacy? We could have easily been doing more than just kissing.”


Clint snorted as he came over to Peter’s crib. Steve glanced over at Tony with a shake of his head and a grin on his face.


“Bruce told me squirt decided to have a fever last night,” Clint told the two, explaining the reason he was barging in. He leaned over to stroke a gentle finger down the side of Peter’s face. Peter had Clint wrapped around every tiny finger of his, even though the archer was always denying it. He had probably skipped every other step running upstairs to their floor once Bruce had told him.


Clint’s soft touch woke Peter who scrunched his face, letting out a tiny series of yawn before finally opening his eyes and glanced up at the three men surrounding his crib. Men that would easily give up their own lives in a heartbeat for his, even though he hardly knew any of that at this point in his life.


“Petey!” Clint exclaimed softly with glee and the baby clapped his hands in excitement in return.


“Don’t’ rile him up too much, Barton,” Tony grumbled as he put a hand on Clint’s face and pushed him away from his baby and Clint slapped his hand away before moving in even closer and smiling down at Peter once more, wiggling his eyebrows which threw Peter into a fit of giggles, kicking his feet and arms happily. Clint had easily figured out that wiggling his eyebrows was funniest thing in the world to the baby boy a few weeks ago.


“I’m gonna go take a shower, “Steve told Tony after a few moments and Tony nodded his head. He managed to finally push Clint out of the bedroom and started getting Peter ready for the morning, finishing right on time as Bruce knocked and entered the room, greeting Tony.


“How was he through night? Any problems?” Bruce asked as he placed the stethoscope underneath Peter’s shirt and onto his chest after he got Tony to lay Peter back down in his crib. It was an unnecessary question to ask. He would have definitely been slapped once more and dragged out of bed if anything had come up during the night.


“Slept throughout the entire night. Took his temperature this morning and it was normal,” Tony informed him, gently stroking Peter’s cheek. Bruce nodded his head, poking at Peter’s nose gently as he listened to the tiny chest.


“Well he sounds good and his temperature is back to normal. He’s just fine. Nothing to worry about,” Bruce concluded, patting the genius on the back with a smile, watching as Tony reached back down to pick up Peter.


“Hear that kiddo? No more prodding and poking from Uncle Bruce!” Tony cooed, pressing a kiss to the back of Peter’s head. Bruce hummed in agreement, grinning when Peter held his arms out for him. He took the boy into his arm, leaning Peter against his shoulder and tickled the baby’s belly before kissing his cheek.


“How about I get him out of your hair while you and Steve get ready? I’ll have breakfast ready in the commons by the time you’re done.” Bruce looked towards Tony, rocking Peter in his arms as the baby started grabbing at his handful of his hair.


Tony easily agreed and thanked Bruce, kissing Peter before the two left. Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair and down his face before he looked up at the clock and let out a smirk. Steve’s showers lasted approximately fifteen minutes and he liked the water hot. Tony had plenty enough time to join him.

Chapter Text

“Barton, you broke my son!” Steve heard the unmistakable screech of his husband’s voice and he quickly spat the rest of his mouthwash into the sink, wiped his mouth off before running out of the bathroom. He reassured himself it was Tony once again being his overdramatic self but that was out the door when he heard his son’s soft cries the closer he got to the living room.


“Only a little part of him!” Clint argued back, voice breaking off into a squeak as he ducked away from the TV remote that went flying past his head. Yep, Stark was furious. But good thing Steve wasn’t here or else-




“What the hell is going on?” Steve demanded as he marched down the steps to get to the living room, following his son’s cries and made his way toward the couch.


“Papa,” Peter whimpered once he got sight of his father, holding a hand out for him to take, the other pressing a bag of frozen peas to his head. Steve eye’s widened. His other father was busy trying to murder his Uncle even though Peter had tried telling him it wasn’t his fault. He was the one that begged for a piggy back ride and it was his skateboard the Clint tripped over and consequently lost his hold on Peter, sending him crashing to the wooden floor.


“I’m going to strangle you with your own intestines!” Tony threatened, fingers tapping furiously over his Starkpad, no doubt plotting Clint’s torture and murder at the moment. He was though in fact sending a message to Bruce down in his lab.


Peter’s eyes widened followed by an adorable squeak and he looked up at Steve with worry etched across his face. Steve quickly got onto his knees in front of his son, grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to the fingers.


“Daddy’s just kidding, honey,” He reassured softly, doing a quick once over of his son, to see if there were any other injuries. Nothing more except a bruised knee. He still had no idea what happened, therefore he hadn’t made up his mind of whether he was going to save Clint from Tony or help murder him.


“It’s wasn’t Uncle Clint’s fault daddy,” Peter started and explained what happened. Steve sighed after he heard the story, pressing another kiss to his son’s hand. Peter was a master at leaving his stuff everywhere which led to a number of times him and Tony tripping over one of their son’s random items. Maybe this would finally be the thing to drive it home because no other punishment or lecture had seemed to work.


“I agree,” Steve replied before carefully helping Peter lay down on the couch, keeping a gentle hold of his head as to not jostle it around too much until it was being cushioned by a soft pillow.


“Tony, stop it. You’re upsetting Peter,” Steve said as he went over to where his husband was at and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him in closer. Clint plopped down on to the chair he had been hiding behind and let out a sigh.


“He dropped Peter!” Tony accused, pointing a sharp finger over at the archer who started to get up from the chair again in case he needed to escape quickly.


Steve rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to his husband’s cheek.


“Technically, yes,” Steve replied before catching Tony up on what Peter had told him. Tony groaned, pressing his ring finger and thumb to the corner of his eyes and let out a sigh.


“We’ve told him a million times,” Tony grumbled quietly before letting out another sigh and Steve just rubbed at his shoulder. Tony turned to look behind him, staring at his fellow team member for a few moments before finally speaking.


“You probably deserved one or two of those remotes anyway,” He stated and Clint’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he pursed his lips, deep in thought for a few moments as he stared at the two.


“Can’t argue with that,” He finally replied with a shrug of his shoulders knowing that was the only apology he was going to get from the genius and he let himself relax in the chair but then his eyes immediately drew to the little boy laying down on the couch. Tony and Steve may have not found him at fault for what happened but he certainly thought so; he should have seen the skateboard.


“What happened this time?” Bruce appeared, running a hand through his hair before looking over at them all, a worn expression on his face.


Steve caught him up as Tony went over to the couch and took a seat on the edge of the couch, next to Peter. His son looked up at him, an apologetic look in his red rimmed eyes.


“Sorry, daddy,” Peter whimpered, letting his father wipe a few stray tears off his cheeks before pleading, “Don’t kill Uncle Clint.”


Tony snorted softly, running his fingers through Peter’s hair, away from the nasty bump on his forehead.


“Not today, honey,” Tony promised, patting Peter on the chest gently. Peter let out a small smile.


“But we are going to talk about leaving your things on the floor. We told you it was dangerous, buddy,” Tony started his speech before taking a deep breath and shaking his head. Peter was frowning up at him, looking ashamed as ever and Tony gave him a smile before kissing his cheek.


“That’s for later though. Let’s let Uncle Bruce take a look at you for now, okay?” Tony compromised. Peter agreed and a few seconds later, his uncle took his dad’s place on the couch and started shining a penlight into his eyes.


A few minutes later Bruce declared that Peter had only suffered a small bruise on his forehead that would heal up by the end of the week but he was to be on bed rest for the rest of the day.


“You sure? You don’t have to scan his head or anything?” Steve spoke up. He was sitting on the love seat next to the couch, elbows propped on his knees while Tony was perched up on the arm chair, leaning against him.


Bruce looked over and smiled, shaking his head. He slipped his glasses off and threw them into the front pocket of his shirt before explaining, “Pupils are responsive. He’s able to easily follow the direction of my finger. He’s alert. He’s going to be fine.”


The two parents looked relieved at that and Clint let go of the breath he had been holding onto, basically from the time Peter had fell from his arms. The sound of the boy’s body crashing onto the ground and subsequently Peter’s pained cry was going to haunt him for the next couple days.


“Is it okay to carry him?” Steve asked as he got up from the chair. Bruce nodded, getting up from the couch to allow Steve the room to bend over and carefully pick Peter up from the couch. He pressed a kiss his hair before cradling him against his chest.


“Say thank you to Uncle Bruce,” Steve prompted gently and the boy easily followed through. Bruce smiled, showing off the wrinkles nears his eyes and patted Peter’s hand gently.


“Just be careful for me kiddo. And get lots of rest,” Bruce responded and Peter assured him he would, if only because his parents were going to make sure he did.


“Sorry, Uncle Clint,” Peter apologized once his father turned around and caught his other uncle’s eye. His lips were set in a pout and Clint hastily replied before his nephew threw himself into another round of tears.


“It’s okay, kiddo. Nothing to be sorry for. Let Pops take you to your bedroom and I’ll come by later and we can finish watching Toy Story,” Clint told him and Peter grinned at the plan for later.


Steve looked up from his son and to his friend, giving him a grateful smile. Clint just shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms before giving the super soldier a quick wink.


Steve chuckled before carrying Peter to his bedroom, Tony following suit. The billionaire patted Bruce on the arm gratefully and smacked Clint upside the head as he followed his husband and son, let out a smirk as Clint started ranting about being bullied to Bruce who just hummed quietly. The smirk was quickly wiped off his face as he tripped over one Peter’s sneakers and nearly face planted on the floor but grabbed a hold of the wall just in time.


Clint choked on the thin air, doubled over and laughed manically, “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it Stark?”


Bruce didn’t bother to push Clint out of the way of the flying shoe.

Chapter Text

Peter was tired.


No. Scratch that.


He was exhausted.


He contemplated the past several weeks as he stared at the bowl of cereal in front of him that his Aunt Natasha had poured for him. He had managed to eat a few bites before letting his head fall back into his hands with a deep sigh.


Six midterms. Three projects. Two papers. One academic decathlon competition.


All in the span of two weeks. Peter had exactly on average three hours of sleep in that entire first week and it somehow lessened to only an hour and half this past week. But today was his last day. He had one more midterm to take before fall break started and Peter’s plan was to catch up on all the sleep he had dearly missed.


Not without surprise, little sleep meant little appetite. At least that’s what he told himself as he would forget to grab breakfast on his rush out the door, promising his Pops that had a granola bar in his backpack to eat on the subway.


“Done, kiddo? You’re gonna be late if you don’t leave soon,” Tony’s voice broke his train of thought and Peter blinked a couple times before looking up at his dad and gave him a weary smile.


“Yeah, I better head out,” Peter replied, voice barely above a whisper. Talking was wasting energy and he had only a limited supply left at this point. He ran hand through his hair before slipping off the bar stool and groaned softly as his aching feet hit the ground. He grabbed his backpack next to his feet, throwing the straps around his shoulders before righted himself and flashed another smile to his father. He would have thought that by now at least one of his parents would have noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes or the increasing palor of his skin.


Tony was none the wiser though as focused on the phone in his hands, tapping away furiously at the screen and managed to flash his son a smile.


Peter sighed softly as his father turned back to his phone without another word. He was not surprised. He shifted his backpack groaning softly at the weight before turning around and walking out.


“Bye, kiddo,” Tony shouted after him as he grabbed Peter’s cereal bowl and threw the contents into the sink. Peter waved goodbye at the rest of his family that were scattered around in the living room and headed towards the elevator.


It was about one in the afternoon when they got the call. Tony and Bruce had locked themselves up in the lab working on a ‘very-top-secret-not-comprehendable-for-your-small-bird-brain-Barton-project’. Hence, Clint was crawling around in the vents sneaking up on the two geniuses. Steve was in the gym going at a punching bag like it was nobody’s business.


“Captain, there is a woman on the phone from Peter’s school. Dr. Banner advised I reroute the call to you as Mr. Stark is currently trying to shoot mini repulsors up at Agent Barton.”


Steve let out a snort before he stopped his assault on the punching bag and took a few deep breaths while wiping a towel across his forehead.


“Go ahead, Jarvis,” Steve instructed the A.I., throwing the towel over his shoulder as he made his way out of the gym and to the lab to once again save Barton’s life from his husband. He had Tony promise to limit his attempts at murdering the archer to only twice a week. This was the third attempt since this morning. Unsurprisingly, even that didn’t beat Natasha’s streak though.


“Hello? This is Mary Johnson, one of the secretaries at Midtown High School. Is this Peter’s father?” The woman’s voice spoke from the line.


“Yes, ma’am. This is Steve Rogers. Is there a problem? He hasn’t skipped class again, has he?” Steve asked, already thinking of Peter’s punishment if that indeed was the case.


“No. No. None of that. His attendance has actually been perfect for the past several weeks. But, no, anyways. I don’t want to alarm so I want to reassure you that Peter’s okay at the moment, but he passed out during fourth period.”


“What?!” Steve bellowed, stopping dead in his tracks. His heart drummed against his rib cage and the sound drowned out everything else around him.


“Mr. Rogers, I once again assure you, he is awake and resting in the nurse’s office at the moment. But I would advise you to come pick him up as soon as possible.”


Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head before gaining his composure back.


“Jarvis, notify Tony and Bruce. Get me a driver ready by the time I get down to the garage. Miss Johnson, tell me everything, please,” Steve finally spoke, voice firm. He marched into the elevator, hitting the button to take him to the garage floor.


“There isn’t much more to say, Mr. Rogers. His teacher caught him before he fell to the ground and by the time the nurse got there he was already conscious. I’m sure the nurse will talk with you more when you get here but for now she wanted me to reassure you that Peter is fine.”


“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Please tell my son that.”


“Of course, Mr. Rogers. We’ll see you soon.”


He felt bad not being there for Tony when he got the news but Bruce would be able to handle him. Hopefully his husband would forgive him for not waiting to go together. But it turned out the be the opposite.


Tony had gotten there before him, curtesy of his suit which Steve saw flying off as he arrived at the front doors. He thanked the driver before scrambling out of the backseat and to the front doors where an assistant was ready to guide him towards the nurse’s office. They passed a few kids on the way, who gasped at the one and only Captain America walking through their hallways and, bless his heart, he managed to give them all a smile and quick wave (which nearly through a poor freshman boy into an asthma attack from excitement).


The assistant quickened her pace as she heard the frantic breathing of the father. Steve was only a few feet away from the nurse’s office before he heard the unmistakable sound of his son’s voice.


“Dad, stop, you’re so embarrassing!” Steve grinned.


He peaked through the window blinds as he walked past and saw his husband pressing kiss upon kiss to their child’s face while Peter was struggling weakly against him.


“Kiddo, shut up and let me love you,” Tony strengthened his hold on his son not daring to let him go.


“Love me later, dad! Just tell nurse Amy to let me go back to class. I’m okay! I can’t make the exam up!”


Tony drew back with a snort before helping Peter lay back down on the cot.


“That’s the last thing you need to be worried about,” Tony reassured him. He turned around when he heard the door swing open and saw Steve walk in. Took him long enough.


Peter groaned upon seeing his pops and Steve took his turn peppering his face and head with kisses.


“Okay, guys, seriously. That’s enough kissing for, like, the rest of my life.” Steve stopped and took a seat near the edge while Tony had dragged a chair over and sat down.


“More like until we get home,” Tony teased and Peter smacked his forehead loudly. Steve frowned, grabbing his hand gently and pulling it back down to his side.


“Don’t hit yourself, baby,” Steve murmured, using his thumb to gently rub small circles on the dull red spot on Peter’s forehead.


Peter sighed softly in regret because his head did hurt, as it had been for a while now, but Pops had a soothing touch and it was doing miracles for the aching.


“Stay with him babe while I talk to the nurse,” Tony whispered into his ear and Steve agreed. Tony pressed a kiss to his husband’s cheek before going over to the nurse who had been waiting patiently over by her desk.


“How do you feel now?” Steve asked, running a warm hand up and down Peter’s arm.


“Okay,” Peter lied. Fainting did not fix the exhaustion and stress that had been put on his body over the past two weeks.


Steve bit his lip. He wanted to believe his son but he knew his son was not telling the truth out of saving his parent’s from worry. He was going have to prod a little further to get actual answers from him. But that could wait until he was tucked into his bed at home.


“As long as you say so,” Steve finally replied and Peter managed to give his father a reassuring smile, hoping that would work on him.


Tony came back a few minutes later with some papers that nurse had given him in one hand and Peter’s backpack in the other. Steve looked up at him.


Tony sighed, shrugging his shoulders. The nurse did not offer up much answers to him.


Steve got up from the bed and Peter raised himself up with a groan, swinging his legs over to the side, feeling all his muscles, bones and joints ache at once.


“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not walking,” Steve chided gently. Peter looked up at him horrified.


“Pops, you are not carrying me through the school hallways!” Peter argued. He was going to fight tooth and nail to save the last little bit of dignity he had left.


His father looked unamused though and in a few moments later Peter was being cradled against his father’s chest, much like a newborn.


Steve couldn’t help but smile. It had been a while since he had the occasion to cradle his son like such and it brought back memories that Steve never wished to forget.


“There’s still a few minutes left in the period, Peter. No one should see you,” The nurse reassured him and Peter just stuffed his face into his father’s chest, hoping that he wouldn’t be recognized in any case. Not that it mattered because everyone knew who his parents were. He could already hear the snickers and taunts sure to come his way next time he walked through the hallways.


Thankfully they managed to get to the car without running into anybody. Tony might have shoved an unsuspecting kid walking around the corner into a janitor’s closet but that was neither here nor there.

Chapter Text

By the time they got home Peter had fallen asleep. He woke up the moment that his dad laid him down on a bed which turned out to not be his but in fact one of the hospital beds in the med bay.


Peter immediately whined, trying and failing to slip off the bed.  


“Peter, honey. Just relax, let us take care of you,” Tony cooed, pressing a gentle hand to Peter’s chest and got him back laying down. Peter sighed loudly, giving up, mostly out of exhaustion and let his head fall back onto the pillow. Steve moved towards the end of the bed to slip his son’s shoes off his feet.  


“Can I just sleep for a little bit? Then I can still make it in time for the test in my last period?” Peter asked quietly, curling up on the bed while his dad tucked a blanket around him.


“Honey, Uncle Bruce is gonna take a look at you and then you’re going to rest for as long as you need to and we are going to talk to your teacher and make up a plan for you to make up your test when you go back to school after break,” Steve replied, brushing his fingers through Peter’s hair, a frown creeping up onto his face.


Peter huffed faintly. How did he explain it to his parents that this teacher did not take any excuses for missing an exam? He knew because Tyler Jensen, two seats behind, got hit by a car the day of the first exam of the semester and he wasn’t allowed to make it up. It was going to cost him an entire letter off his final grade for the class and God forbid he came home to his parents with anything less than straight A’s.


Bruce decided to wander in at the moment, eliminating Peter’s chance of arguing his point.   


“Buddy, we agreed to limit visits to the med bay to twice a month,” Bruce stated, walking up towards the side of the bed, looking down at Peter, the ever present clam yet worn smile on his face. He pressed a hand to Peter’s forehead, gauging for a fever, before smoothing Peter’s hair back gently.


“Tell my dads!  They brought me down here. I rather be up in my bed or better yet at school doing my exam. I can go now and still make it and then you can poke and prod me as much as you want Uncle Bruce,” Peter spoke hastily, mustering enough energy to lift himself up on his elbows. Not for long thought as Tony pushed him back down to the bed and kept a hand settled on his chest just for safe measures. Peter glared up at him.


“No can do kiddo. You passed out and we don’t know why. You need a full work up kiddo,” Bruce explained, turn around to grab a gown from one of the cupboards and handed it to Steve.


“You want to get him changed into that while I go grab a few things?” Bruce asked and Steve dutifully nodded his head grabbing the item and watched as Bruce left.


“I don’t want Uncle Bruce seeing me naked!” Peter gaped, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between his two parents.


“He won’t. You’re not,” Steve reassured with a soft laugh, “Not like he hasn’t seen you naked before. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten about time when you were four and somehow thought clothes were nothing more than a suggestion.”


Peter shut his eyes and tried not to curse unless he wanted his pops to skin his ass alive. He let his parents change him into the gown, not bothering with trying to argue that he could do it himself.


“Still has that same cute little butt,” Tony couldn’t help but comment once they were done and Peter was settled back down against the pillows. Steve choked out a laugh while Peter remained in shock for a few seconds.


“Oh. My. God. Did you just-? I can’t believe-what? Pops, can Uncle Bruce just knock me so I don’t have to hear dad calling my butt cute again?”


“Nonsense. Not like he’s lying,” Bruce commented as he appeared back around the corner. Tony cackled maniacally while Steve outright giggled and Peter’s face became a cherry red.


“I am running far away from you perverts the second I turn eighteen,” Peter huffed, crossing his arms.


“Sorry, kiddo, you’ll be locked in the tower your entire life. You’re too much of a menace for us to allow your adorable little butt out in the world,” Tony teased and tickled Peter’s side until the kid started slapping his hand away.


“Okay, okay. That’s enough. Stop mistreating my patient.” Peter gave his uncle a grateful look while his dad looked over at him with an evil grin. God, his parents were such dorks at times.


“How do you feel now, Peter?” Bruce asked once everything simmered down.  


“I-”Peter began, ready to lie before Steve butt in.


“No lying, kiddo. No use, because Bruce will find out of anything’s wrong. We just want to make sure it’s nothing serious and it won’t happen again.”


Of course his parents knew him too well. Peter took a deep breath, “I’ve felt better, I guess.”


Bruce frowned, glancing over at his blood pressure reading.


“I bet, kiddo. When did you start feeling a little off?” Bruce asked, grabbing Peter’s wrist and taking his pulse. Peter bit his lip, wondering where to even start. Did he tell them the truth and have them all disappointed that he could not handle being a freshman? Or take the chance and lie. 


“Last week,” Peter finally revealed. Tony and Steve glanced at one another in alarm, frowns mirroring on each other’s face. Neither one of them had realized anything wrong. Peter felt Steve take his other hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  


“And you didn’t say something because?” Bruce prodded letting go of his wrist. Peter stayed quiet offering only a shrug before keeping his eyes focused on his lap. He couldn’t gather the courage to tell them everything.


Bruce didn’t choose question him further at the point, focusing on checking him out. It was nothing Peter hadn’t gone through before although he could have done without the blood test at the end. 


“You sure you have to draw blood, Bruce?” Steve asked, one arm wrapped entirely around Peter’s shoulders, holding him close to his chest. He knew his little boy wasn’t the biggest fan of needles but at the same time he implicitly trusted Bruce’s judgements.


Bruce gave him a reassuring smile while explaining, “It’s just to run a basic BMP and CBC. Very standard tests that will get me some baseline measurements and if anything, is off, it would clue me in to what’s wrong.”


Steve sighed, nodded his head before pressing a kiss to the side of Peter’s head.


“That okay, honey? You understand that it’s important for Uncle Bruce to take some blood?” Steve murmured gently into Peter’s ear and his son nodded his head in understanding. Steve smiled pressing another kiss to Peter’s head before curling a strand of the boys’ hair gently behind his ear.  


Bruce managed to get the blood without a hiccup and Peter hoped this was the end of it.


“Diagnosis, Brucie Bear?” Tony piped up when Bruce came back a few minutes later after running the tests. He had been walking back and forth around the small room while Steve had obliged to sit on the bed with their son. Peter was currently in his arms, asleep resting most of his body against his chest.


“Exhaustion,” Bruce told them, leaning against the wall and slipping his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.


Tony frowned, turning around to glance at Steve who had a mirrored expression. His eyes turned down to look at his son, who in hindsight had uncharacteristic black circles underneath his eyes. The paleness that had creeped onto the small body, he had registered was because of passing out but now thinking back, Peter had looked a little more pale than usual.


“Wait, how? I don’t understand,” Steve asked, voice quiet as to not jostle Peter too much. If what Bruce had said was true, the last thing Peter needed was to be woken up.


“We’ll have to ask him unfortunately, but that’s the best thing I can come up with. He’s not sick enough to cause any of his symptoms but his vital signs and low metabolic balance are akin to what you would see with someone who has forgone sleep and eating for a while.”  


“I don’t understand,” Steve whispered, peering down at his sleeping child and how they had become so blind.


“I had Friday pull up Peter’s sleeping pattern. He’s averaged about two hours of sleep each night for the past two weeks,” Bruce informed them, a pained expression on his face.


Steve gasped audibly and Tony let out a curse.


“Fuck,” Tony moaned, falling back into one of the chairs and letting his head fall background.


“God, why? What would be causing that?” Steve questioned. Nightmares was at the top of the list of possibilities but they would have known by now. Peter’s history of nightmares ended up with him screaming in the middle of the night and they would have heard.


“I suggest letting him sleep and once he wakes up, we’ll have him explain,” Bruce proposed and the two fathers reluctantly agreed.




 “Nothing’s wrong! I didn’t need to tell you because I could handle it!” Peter lashed unexpectedly throwing his parents off guard.


This was not the situation the men had hoped to see themselves in. They had waited for hours on end for Peter to wake up and after letting the boy gets his bearings straight, Tony immediately launched into interrogation mode and this was the result.


“Honey, you haven’t been sleeping and eating at all. Something is wrong and we’re worried,” Steve explained gently, smoothing Peter’s hair back.


“Why?! It’s not like any of you cared enough to notice anyways,” Peter murmured, not intending for any of them to hear but they did. It felt like a flaming hot knife had been stabbed into each of the man’s hearts at the accusation.


“What?! Peter, God, no. Of course we care, baby,” Steve argued back frantically, wrapping his arms around the small teen. Tony slipped off the end of the bed and ran towards the other side of Peter, eyes wide.


Peter let out a choked sob, shaking his head, trying to get away from his father. He promised himself he wasn’t going to breakdown but it was inevitable at this point. He had been through hell these past two weeks and there was only so much he could take.


Steve just held on tighter, refusing to let go of his troubled son, feeling his own eyes well up with tears.


“N-no you don’t,” Peter cried, too exhausted to fight his father anymore and just fell into his arms, Pops ready to catch him.


“Baby, you know that’s not true. You know it!” Tony reasoned this time.


“Please, honey. Please just tell us what’s wrong. We love you so much, we all do,” Steve begged.


They waited patiently until Peter’s cried dwindled down to soft sniffles and he finally raised his head up from Steve’s chest. Peter looked up at Steve first, expecting his father to have an expression of disappointment but he saw nothing but unconditional love.


“Hey, sweetie,” Steve murmured, poking gently at the red nose before smoothing Peter’s hair back, “Ready to talk?”


Peter let out another sniffle and Steve reached for a tissue before holding it up to his nose and instructed him to blow into it.


“I’m sorry I yelled,” Peter mumbled looking down at his lap.


“Oh baby, you don’t have to be sorry. Just tell us what’s been going on with you,” Tony replied, rubbing circles on Peter’s back. Steve hopped back onto the bed and gently pulled Peter back to rest against him once more.


Peter settled back against his father’s chest, appreciating the feeling of safety and comfort in his father’s arms. Tony took a seat on the bed in front of the two, grabbing a hold of one of Peter’s hand before their son began to reveal all the had occurred.   


“And now I’m going to fail my exam that I missed because our teacher is awful and he’ll never let me retake it,” Peter finished off a few minutes later, whimpering at the thought.


Tony snorted, “We’ll see how the principal feels about that when my very generous monthly donations all but disappear.”


Steve nodded his head and he usually was against Tony using his money as a power move, but not in this case.


“Oh sweetheart. Daddy and I should have noticed. We would have helped baby. School should never make you go through something like this,” Steve told him and Tony murmured in agreement.


“I didn’t want you to think I was weak, Papa. I wanted to handle it on my own.”  


“Baby, we would have never thought of you as weak. Never, not in a million years. We’re your parents sweetheart. We are here for you, always, so you do not have to go through hard times on your own,” Steve replied in earnest and Peter at once felt all that weight lift off his shoulders. Steve could even feel the tension leave his son’s body and wrapped his arms around tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.


“How about we get Bruce down here to check you over, kiddo, then we order some pizza and go back up to watch a movie with everybody else?” Tony suggested and Peter let out a grin. Tony took that as a yes.