Work Text:
“Peter, aren’t you a little young for coffee?”
It was early Saturday morning and Peter and Tony had been in the lab all night working on his new Spider suit, something called the Iron Spider. It was bullet proof, knife proof, everything proof apparently. A little heavy and cumbersome for the way Peter liked to do things, but his Dad had gotten anxious and shaky every time Peter went out as Spider Man ever since returning from Siberia and the Iron Spider was the only thing that could make him calm, so they'd pulled an all nighter so it would be ready for patrol the next day.
Peter turned around from the coffee maker to find Steve with his hands on his hips, giving a disapproving look to the mug Peter was topping off. His father's coffee mug. With his father's coffee machine. In his father's penthouse. A hot fame of irritation flared in Peter’s chest.
The Rogues, they didn’t like to be called that, which delighted Peter so he said it every chance he got, had gotten their provisional pardon only two weeks ago, moving back into the tower as if nothing had happened. But a lot had happened, Peter knew. And he was going to make sure the Rogues knew it too.
Pulling the mug to his chest, Peter turned in a circle, dramatically searching the room as if he’d lost something. He was bent over to check under the kitchen table when Steve spoke again.
“What on earth are you looking for?”
Peter’s gaze snapped back to him, all wide-eyed innocence and befuddlement. “Oh, I was just looking for who asked your opinion.”
Steve’s eyebrows shot up, obviously not expecting the flippant tone from the normally friendly teenager.
“Look, Peter, I would never let my kid drink coffee at your age, and-”
“Good thing you’re not my dad then.” Peter interrupted, dumping three heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the mug, just how his dad liked it. Peter had known Steve since he was 10, he’d assumed the man knew how Tony took his coffee. Peter was beginning to think he didn’t know Steve Rogers at all.
“Peter I just-” Steve started, reaching toward Peter’s mug as if he intended to take it from him.
“I've been wondering is Captain, like, a military designation?”
“What?” Steve said, surprised enough by the turn of conversation that he retracted his hand.
“I was just wondering if you were promoted to the rank of Captain or if it was just like a stage name? You know, 'cause you were like, a performer right? Did you sing and dance or what?” Peter held Steve’s eyes as he brought the coffee to his mouth, slurping obnoxiously as the other man’s ears tinged red. Peter knew perfectly well what Steve Rogers had done as a troop entertainer, but his look of wide eyed curiosity betrayed none of it.
“I was promoted to Captain after defeating the Red Skull and freeing 400 POWs.” Steve said, pushing his shoulders back. The successful mission was one of his proudest moments in life.
“Right, right,” Peter nodded, looking down into his mug for a moment. “I remember now. Didn’t you disobey orders to do that?”
“Well, yes but-”
“Weird. I always thought you were such a stickler for the rules. It really seems to piss you off when people don’t follow orders in the field.”
“Listen Peter-“
“What’s the word for that again…” Peter snapped his fingers as if he’d forgotten, before his mouth spread in a sharklike grin. “That’s right. Hypocrite.”
Steve frowned, hands going back to his hips. “Do we have a problem, Parker?”
Peter grinned, overly friendly and mocking, it reminded Steve of something.
He shook his head. “Perish the thought, O captain my captain,” He said, gesturing dramatically toward himself. “I’m just making friendly conversation. Since my father has so graciously decided to house you and the other Rogues, I mean, “returned” Avengers, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other again. But I’ll remember your hypocrisy is a touchy subject for next time we meet.”
“I don’t know what you think you know, kid, but Tony shouldn’t have-”
Peter slammed the mug onto the counter hard enough for the side to crack and coffee to slowly start seeping onto the countertop.
“Do me a favor and don’t ever say my dad’s name again.” Peter’s jaw was clenched, his voice low and tight. Steve glanced at the broken mug and then back at the teenager who seemed to have every muscle in his body on a hair trigger. He decided retreat was the better part of valor in that moment, because if he got into a fight with Tony’s son in his kitchen Tony would definitely kick him and the others out. He held up his hands in surrender.
“Okay, Peter. I get it, you’re angry. Maybe we could talk about-”
Peter plastered another big fake smile on his face and Steve suddenly realized where he’d seen that look before. On Tony’s face every time he had to do an impromptu interview with someone from the media.
“Nope. Done talking. See you ‘round, Captain A hole.”
Peter left the broken mug on the counter and stalked toward the elevator. As he did he addressed Friday, raising his voice to be sure Steve could hear him.
“FRIDAY, initiate Private Property lockdown on the penthouse. I wouldn’t want people to get the idea that they still have the right to just waltz in anytime they feel like it anymore.”
“Done, Mini-Boss.”
"Since you let yourself in I trust you can see yourself out? I need to run to Starbucks."
Peter crossed his arms over his chest and held Steve’s gaze until the doors shut between them.
“Peter Edward Stark!”
Peter was laying on his bed doing some assigned reading for class when his father’s irritated voice swept down the hall. He dropped his textbook to his chest with a sigh.
“Yeah dad?”
Tony appeared in Peter’s doorway. “Did you mess with the shampoo on the Avenger’s floor?”
Peter sat up and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Act like you don’t know why Clint and Steve’s hair is blue right now.”
Peter blinked owlishly. “That seems a little alternative for them.”
“Peter.”
“Dad.”
Tony glared and made a quick gesture with his hands and Friday displayed a holoscreen in the middle of Peter’s room showing a live feed of the Avenger’s living room. Steve and Clint’s hair was indeed electric blue, their skin had a blue tinge as well. As they watched Sam and Nat complained that ‘at least their showers would make water that wasn’t ice cold’. Tony’s glare slid back over to his son.
Peter shrugged, reaching for his textbook again. “Maybe we should call a plumber.”
“Peter, knock it off.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Peter insisted, turning the page of his textbook.
“FRIDAY?”
“Yes Boss?”
“Did Peter tamper with any personal items on the Avenger’s floor? Or the temperature controls for the water supply?”
“No Boss.”
Tony’s glare intensified at Peter’s grin.
“See?”
Tony took a deep breath and lifted a finger to point at his son. “Do not mess with FRIDAY. And do not tamper with the other's things.” He softened his tone. "They live here now Buddy, we need to try and get along. You're not making this any easier."
Peter swallowed past a lump of guilt that lodged in his throat and scowled. “I didn’t do anything.”
He flopped back on his bed.
“Peter.”
Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I won’t tamper with FRIDAY and I won’t mess with anything that belongs to the Rogues.”
Tony dropped his chin to his chest and took another deep breath.
“I’ll take it.”
“Hey Tony?”
Tony’s shoulders stiffened, but he turned to Clint’s approaching form in the hall.
“Yes Katniss?”
Clint’s hair was back to its normal color, but his skin still had an odd greenish-blue hue that made him look almost sick in the florescent light. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and cast his eyes to the floor.
“Listen, I know things aren’t…great,” he gestured between himself and Tony. Tony raised a single eyebrow. Clint cleared his throat and continued, “but we’re basically prisoners here unless there’s an Avenger’s level threat and there’s only so much working out you can do. Do you think you could put the TV back before I go insane?”
Tony frowned. “Is it missing?”
“No,” Clint shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “But my dreams are haunting enough without that disembodied baby face floating inside the sun.”
Tony blinked. “Excuse me?”
Now it was Clint’s turn to look confused. “You didn’t know?”
“Clint I’m still not even sure what you’re asking me for.”
“The TV,” the archer explained slowly, gesturing up to the common floor. “It won’t play anything but the Teletubbies. All the time. We asked FRIDAY-”
“FRIDAY?”
“Yes Boss?”
“Is the Avenger’s television locked to only show the Teletubbies?”
“Yes Boss.”
“Why?”
“Mini Boss thought it would be beneficial for the Avengers to learn more about kindness, friendship and loyalty in accordance with the ‘There is no A-hole in Team’ protocol. He reasoned that locking the television to the Teletubbies program would fulfill this objective.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “FRIDAY unlock the TV on the Avenger’s floor.”
“Done.”
Tony sniffed and looked up at Clint to find the man looking slightly cowed.
“He really hates us, doesn’t he?”
Tony felt his chest tighten, a wave of grief for the time when the team had been his family sweeping over him with enough force to take his breath away. As horrific as the Accords fiasco had been for Tony, what he regretted most was that Peter had been hurt. Tony had lost his friends, Peter had lost his aunt and uncles. He never wanted his kid to learn to put up walls around his heart the way Tony had. Peter had always been big heart, open arms and forgiving to a fault.
Clint and the others had ruined that.
“Let me know if you have any other issues.” Tony turned to continue the way he’d been going, leaving Clint alone in the hall.
“Peter!”
“What?”
“Did you change the Avenger’s grocery order to only include protein bars and multivitamins?”
“No. And even if I did those items will meet all the necessary food and nutrition requirements for baseline humans. They don’t actually need anything else.”
“Uh huh, what about super soldiers?”
“I ordered protein shakes too.”
A pause.
“Um wait…I mean…”
“Peter Edward Stark!”
Steve had almost thought it was over. Maybe Peter had gotten it all out of his system. They hadn’t heard from him in over a week and the annoying little pranks seemed to have dried up. Well, Steve did find all of his white t shirts turned pink the last time he unloaded them from the dryer, but he couldn’t be absolutely certain that was Peter.
Then they’d had an Avenger’s call, the first one since being back in New York, and Spider Man had joined them. At first Steve was worried the kid was going to be disruptive and put the team in danger by refusing to cooperate, but that hadn’t been the case. He’d worked alongside himself and the rest of the returned Avengers just as easily as he did Tony and Rhodey. No back talk, no ignoring Steve’s orders, not even annoyed sighs and scoffing over the comms.
Steve had honestly thought somehow they’d made it past this.
Then they’d wrapped up the mission and flown back to the Tower for debriefing.
“Has anyone seen my Shield?” Steve asked, looking around where he’d been sitting in the main bay of the quinjet.
Clint wrinkled his nose. “You lost it?”
“No I didn’t lose it.” Steve turned in a slow circle and bent over to look under the benches and then behind the wall separating the cockpit.
“It kind of looks like you lost it.” Nat said, brushing past him and down the ramp, following the rest of the team inside.
“Look just, meet me in Conference room A.” Steve said waving his hand in a shooing motion, “I’ll be right behind you.”
Ten minutes later Steve stormed into the conference room with his shield in hand. He’d found it webbed to the ceiling in the hallway outside the bathroom on the jet.
“Nice of you to join us, Cap.” Tony said, leaning back in his chair with his ankle crossed over his opposite knee. Steve glared at him, but based on Tony’s raised eyebrow and lack of smugness, he genuinely had no idea what had transpired with his shield. He turned his dark look to Spider Man, sitting beside his dad giving Steve a bored look.
Steve stretched his neck side to side to alleviate some of his irritation and tension in his shoulders. He was an adult. Peter was a child. He could be the bigger man about this. It was practically his entire brand.
“Alright, let’s go over what happened today.” Steve began giving a rundown of the main strategic issues he’d noted from their mission, pointedly ignoring the increasingly large bubbles Peter was blowing with gum he’d procured from somewhere on his person. He paused a couple times when Peter’s bubbles popped, derailing his train of thought for a moment. Tony turned to the kid and said something in a harsh whisper, causing Peter to raise his eyebrows and shrug.
“Now, as for any connections to Hydra, Nat and I found-“ Steve stopped short, frozen with his finger hovering next to the screen on the wall. Slowly, slowly, a millimeter at a time, his eyes moved from the screen on the wall down to his chest. There, in the middle of his white star, a wad of chewed, bright pink bubble gum had landed and stuck firm, after being shot out of the mouth of the spider teen on the other side of the room.
Clint snorted and choked, the water he’d been sipping shooting out of his nose.
Peter’s hands went up immediately.
“Oh my gosh Mr. Captain America sir that’s my bad. That one got away from me.” He said, eyes impossibly wide and far, far too innocent. “I’m really really sorry.”
He didn't really sound sorry.
Steve was still staring at his chest. Nat was clapping Clint on the back as he tried to get his breath back while Sam, Rhodey and Tony stared at Peter, all with varying levels of belief regarding the kid’s words of apology.
Peter just stared at Steve, a small smile on his face.
After several moments Steve took another deep breath, reminding himself again and again I’m the adult, he’s the kid, I’m the adult, he’s the kid, and pried the sticky mess off his chest, causing strings of gum to hang between his fingers and the chewed up blob on his star.
“I think…that’s all for today.” Steve said finally. Everyone in the room got up, with the exception of Peter, who was dragged up and out of his seat by Tony's firm hand.
“Da-ad,” Peter whined, his voice carrying down the hall. “It was an accident, I swear!”
Steve was almost positive it was not, in fact, an accident.
When the penthouse doors opened Peter looked up from his phone and stopped dead. His living room was full of people. Steve, Nat, Clint, Sam, Rhodey and his Dad all stared at him from different spots around the living room.
“Nope.” Peter turned on his heal to get back into the elevator.
“Peter Stark if you step one foot inside that elevator there will be no Spider Man for a month.”
Peter stopped, his shoulders up by his ears, clenching his phone so tight in his hands he felt the screen crack. He watched the elevator doors close, but didn’t turn around.
“Good, now come in here.”
Peter crossed his arms over his chest and stayed facing the elevator.
“Why?”
He heard his Dad take a deep breath. “Because we need to talk. All of us. We probably should have a while ago.”
Peter huffed and turned around, starting to make his way toward the hall that lead to his room. “Fine, but I have homework. Why don’t you guys talk and you can give me the cliff notes later.”
“Peter, come sit down now.” Tony’s voice was low and brooked no room for argument.
Peter glared at his father, still refusing to address any of the Avengers in the room. He dropped his backpack in the middle of the floor and stalked straight over to where Tony sat in an armchair, somewhat removed from where the rest of the team was piled on the couch and, in Nat’s case, the floor. Rhodey was standing slightly behind Tony near the windows, the hydraulics in his braces whirring softly in the silence.
Peter took up a position directly in front of his father and then turned around to face the others with his arms crossed, effectively blocking Tony from the gazes of the other Avengers. Tony sighed, Rhodey covered a smile with a cough. Steve exchanged a glance with the others, but none seemed to know what to say to ease the blatant hostility coming off the teenager in the room.
“Peter.” Tony said his name as a sigh, clearly already exhausted of this entire situation.
Peter didn’t move.
“Kid,” Tony reached up to nudge Peter to one side with his hand, but Peter didn’t even sway under his father’s hand. “Peter, move.” Tony snapped.
The kid whirled around to face his dad. “Either put on your suit or I stay right where I’m at. I won’t let them hurt you again.”
Tony’s face softened as he recognized the defiance and anger on his kid's face for what it really was, poorly hidden fear. He remembered now, suddenly, that Peter was the one to find him in Siberia, having traced the suit’s last known location and getting a little help from Black Panther. He had been out of it, injured and in shock, but he remembered the way his boy had been crying for him, frightened and inconsolable.
He reached up to cup Peter’s cheek, tears filled his kid's eyes before he blinked and they were gone again.
“Everything is okay.” Tony said lowly, for Peter’s ears only. “I’m okay.”
Peter pursed his lips and took a deep breath, but didn't move.
“I’m okay Peter.”
Peter’s shoulders dropped slightly and he nodded, shifting to perch on the arm of Tony’s chair instead, resuming his glaring at the other Avengers.
Tony stretched his neck from side to side. “Alright. It seems we have some air that needs to be cleared if we’re going to make this,” Tony made a circle encompassing the entire room, "work. Who wants to start?”
“Why don’t we start with the way your kid runs amok in this tower wreaking havoc.” Sam grumbled from his spot between Steve and Clint on the couch.
“Havoc? Really? Did you die?” Peter scoffed.
“I’ve been taking cold showers for a month!”
“At least he didn’t turn your hair blue.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea the kinds of things I could have had FRIDAY do to you? You’re lucky cold showers, blue hair and a mindless kid’s show is the worst thing that happened.”
Steve threw his hands in the air. “This is getting ridiculous, Tony, if you can’t control-”
“I told you,” Peter was suddenly out of his seat and across the room, looming over Steve’s form on the couch. “Not. To say. His name.”
Natasha jumped to her feet. Both Sam and Clint had gone stiff, poised to leap up at the slightest movement.
Slowly, Steve stood, making Peter take a half step back and look up when he drew himself to his full height.
“I ask again, do we have a problem, Peter?”
Peter’s words hissed through clenched teeth. “Damn right we do. Liar.”
Steve drew back as if struck then raised his hands from his sides. Before anyone could decide whether he intended to hit Peter or just push him back out of his space, there was the sound of a repulser charging.
All eyes swung to where Tony had stood out of his chair and had a gauntlet out pointing at Steve.
“Step away from my kid.” Tony was shaking, heart racing, halfway to a panic attack because Captain America might hurt my kid, he might hurt Peter like he hurt me and a I can’t I can’t but he refused to let it show. His glove never wavered, ready to blow Steve across the room if he so much as twitched. He felt Rhodey at his elbow and waited for Steve’s next move.
“Are you kidding me? I’m not the only one that saw the fifteen year old super human square up first, am I?” Sam complained, looking at Clint, then Natasha. Neither spy responded, eyes still locked on the repulser, muscles tensed and ready.
Steve took a deep breath, but forced his shoulders and hands to relax.
“I’m sorry you’re angry Peter. But I don’t take kindly to being called a liar.”
“And I don’t take kindly to people pretending to be my family and then trying to kill my father and leaving him for dead.” Peter shot back. Steve’s eyes widened and his gaze flickered to Tony and then back to Peter. Beside him Sam scoffed his disbelief.
“That…was a mistake.” Steve admitted quietly, after a moment he dropped back down onto the couch. There was the sound of Tony’s repulser powering down but no one looked, all eyes were locked on Steve and the suddenly pained look on his face.
“Wait. What?” Sam frowned at his friend, shifting to look at him fully. “What do you mean? I thought the kid was full of it…what do you mean it was a mistake?”
Steve stayed quiet, so Peter answered for him.
“After finding out that Cap's bestie killed Howard and Maria Stark and Steve knew the whole time but decided it wasn’t important enough to say anything, he went ahead and tried to kill my dad. Then he ran off with my grandparent’s murderer and left him for dead. No suit. No backup. In the middle of Siberia.”
Steve looked up, eyes flashing. “Bucky was brainwashed, he didn’t know what he was doing.”
“What about you?” Peter shot back. “Were you brainwashed when you tried to shove your shield into my dad’s sternum?”
Steve’s wide eyes went back to Tony, who had come to stand in a loose semi circle around the two enhanced humans alongside Clint, Rhodes and Natasha. Sam still sat on the couch staring openmouthed at his friend.
Peter shifted to block Steve’s view of his father.
“And before you get any big ideas about what my father has or hasn’t told me, I found the footage and watched it myself while he was in the medbay fighting for his life. I went looking for answers because I needed to understand why my dad was beaten to a pulp and almost frozen to death and half my family was gone without a trace.”
A drop of moisture hit Steve’s hand where it was resting on his knee and he looked up. Peter’s voice never shook, his face a mask carved from stone, but tears were flowing silently down his cheeks.
“He trusted you.” Peter whispered. “I trusted you.”
“Peter…I…” Steve trailed off, unsure what he could say, if anything, to make up for the way he’d hurt the child. The way he’d hurt both of them.
After several long moments of silence Peter brought his arm up to wipe the tears off his face with his sleeve.
“You guys live here, we have to work together. Fine.” He sniffed, wrapping his arms around himself and letting his gaze go to the far wall. “You all agree to leave us alone, and stay out of the Penthouse, and I agree not to screw with you anymore. Deal?”
Steve looked up at the other faces in the room. Natasha’s face was blank, a small furrow in her brow and intensity in her eyes that made Steve uneasy. Sam was looking at him like he’d never seen him before and Clint’s face was stormy. Rhodes wore the same glare he’d had every time Steve had seen him since returning from Wakanda and Tony looked heartbroken. But Tony wasn’t looking at Steve, he was looking at Peter.
Steve’s eyes dropped back to his lap.
“Deal.” He agreed quietly.
Peter sniffed once more and nodded once before leaping over the couch and disappearing down the hall to his room.
“Pete?” Tony knocked while opening the door, expecting to find Peter laying on his bed, or maybe putting on his Spider suit to go Swing off some steam. Instead he was barely inside the room when his kid barreled into him, face pressed into his neck to muffle his sobs.
Immediately tears sprang to Tony’s eyes, the way they often did when his kid cried. He wrapped Peter up tight in his arms and moved them slowly toward the bed, whispering reassurances into his hair all the while.
Tony sat them down, keeping Peter pressed tight to his side and pushed one hand into his kid’s hair, the other rubbing up and down his back, swaying back and forth in an attempt to soothe them both.
When Peter’s cries died down to intermittent hiccups and sniffing, Tony pulled back just enough to see his kid’s face.
“Feeling better?”
Peter shrugged.
“I guess.”
Tony leaned back further, bringing his hand around to wipe his kid’s cheeks.
“Peter, I…is this okay?”
Peter looked up, confused.
“This, the Avengers being back here. Is this okay, are you…do you feel safe?”
Tony realized now he probably should have had this conversation earlier. Ross hadn’t exactly given him a choice, he had to take the Avengers in once they were back to keep the revised Accords talks going, but he realized now he should have asked Peter about it. The breakup had been hard for him, but it had been just as hard, if not harder, for Peter.
Tony didn’t know how, but if his kid didn’t feel safe with Steve and the others back in the tower then Tony would fix it. He’d find a way to fix it.
Peter shrugged. “Yeah. I know I’m safe. I just…it’s really hard being around them, knowing everything that happened. It…it really hurts.”
Tony grimaced in sympathy and pulled Peter’s head forward, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I know baby, I’m sorry. I wish I could make it better.” Peter didn’t answer, just leaned into his father’s embrace again. “But you know, Pete. We need to find a way to move forward. All this hurt and anger,” he pressed his palm against his son’s chest, “its only holding you back. It’s only hurting you more.”
Peter nodded. “I know but…how did you get past it? How did you forgive them?”
Tony took a deep breath, casting his eyes toward the ceiling as he thought of the best way to answer.
“Honestly kid, I don’t know if I am all the way there yet. I still get anxious when I’m alone in a room with Steve or some of the others. I still worry things will fall apart every time I bring an update about the New Accords.” He sighed and looked back down at Peter, who was watching him with big sad eyes. He tried to smile. “But I’m trying. And I believe they’re trying too. And Peter, I didn’t do things perfect either. I didn’t deescalate when I could have and things got out of hand.” He reached up and pushed some of Peter’s hair off his head with a sad smile, “I think I need to take responsibility for some of the hurt you’re feeling right now.”
Peter frowned, seeming to consider this. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap.
“You really want me to trust them again? After everything?”
“Who you give your trust to is your choice Pete,” Tony said, “But I’ll tell you this. No one in the world has a bigger heart than you or is better at seeing the best in people. It’s one of the things I love most about you, bambino.”
Peter sighed, his stomach felt tied in knots and his head was buzzing.
“Can we just sit here a while longer?” He asked, winding his arms around his father’s middle and pressing his face into his shoulder.
“Of course we can,” Peter felt another kiss land on the side of his head, “take as long as you need.”
Peter thought his dad was probably not just talking about the hug.
Steve came in from his morning run sweaty and starving, trying to decide which need was more pressing at the moment. He drew up short in the middle of the common room kitchen, surprised by the person standing there to greet him.
Peter gripped the straps of his backpack tightly, staring across the room at Steve with a blank look in his eyes.
They stood in silence for a full minute, neither daring to move.
Finally, Peter took a deep breath.
“I’m angry with you.”
Steve swallowed.
“I know”
“You hurt my dad. You hurt me too.”
Steve nodded, casting his eyes to the floor briefly and then looking up again. This kid deserved to be looked in the eye after what happened.
“I know.”
Peter’s eyebrows drew together, scrutinizing the super soldier carefully.
“Are you sorry?”
Steve felt his chest constrict and forced a deep breath.
“More than you will ever know.” He croaked, hoping the kid could read the sincerity in every word. Steve didn’t regret choosing Bucky over Tony, he is sure Tony would do the same thing if it had been Rhodey. But he did regret everything else, everything that had lead him to this moment, with a kid he thought of as a family staring him down like was a stranger and a threat.
“I’m so sorry Peter.”
Peter looked at his shoes and readjusted his grip on his backpack.
“I’m not ready to accept your apology.”
Steve swallowed his hurt at the comment and nodded. “I understand.”
More silence stretched between them, Steve’s stomach growled. Peter’s eyes flicked up, he could probably hear it.
“Dad says holding a grudge only hurts you, not the person you’re angry at.” Peter made a face like he wasn’t sure he believed that. Steve wasn’t sure either. “So I’m going to work on not being mad at you anymore. Just know, things will never be the way they were before. We can’t be family anymore. Thats over now.”
Steve straightened, nodding stiffly. “Okay.”
Peter looked at him for another long moment and nodded. “Okay. Well, I better go. Happy is waiting to take me to school.”
Steve nodded again, looking at the floor and Peter made his way across the room, past him toward the elevator.
“Peter?” Steve turned around and met Peter’s gaze when he looked back over his shoulder. “I know things are…different. But I hope I can earn back your trust. I hope…someday we can be friends again.”
Peter swallowed and Steve could swear he saw tears shining in the boys eyes for a moment before they were blinked away. Peter shrugged.
“Maybe.”
Steve stood still in the silence after Peter left for a long time.
Things weren’t the same, maybe they never would be again. But he would do his best. Tony and Peter deserved that much.
And now there was something warm in his chest, a spark of hope for the future.