Common Ground
It had been a week since Peter officially joined the team, and something had shifted at the compound. For the first time in a long while, Arthur felt like there was someone who truly understood him—not just as an Avenger, but as a person. Peter, the kid with the endless energy and the mind that seemed to race a thousand miles a minute, was a lot like him. They’d found an unexpected, quiet connection.
It wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment; it had come slowly, like two puzzle pieces finding their place. Little by little, Peter and Arthur began to gravitate toward each other. They didn’t need to explain themselves—no words were required for the understanding that passed between them. The constant restlessness, the inability to keep their thoughts in one place for long, the anxious, jittery energy—it was all familiar. And in some strange way, that made it comforting.
On that particular afternoon, the common room was unusually quiet. Steve had gone off for a training session, Tony was locked away in his lab, and most of the team had scattered to their respective corners. Arthur had settled into his usual spot by the window, his legs crossed beneath him on the couch, but his knee was bouncing, tapping in rhythm with his thoughts.
Peter wandered in a few minutes later, looking much the same as he always did—messy hair, eyes wide with curiosity, and a little bit of that nervous energy buzzing around him. He looked over at Arthur, then did a quick double-take when he saw his leg bouncing.
“Hey, you too, huh?” Peter asked, voice light but knowing as he made his way over to the couch.
Arthur blinked, caught off guard for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to sound casual, even though he knew exactly what Peter was talking about.
Peter laughed, sitting down beside him with a little too much enthusiasm. “The leg bounce! It’s, like, your brain’s way of keeping up with everything. I do it all the time.” He bounced a little himself, his leg tapping against the floor in an almost identical rhythm to Arthur’s. “It’s like... if I don’t do it, my brain just kind of... overloads.”
Arthur stared at Peter for a moment, surprised. There it was again—the thing he had kept hidden for so long. The constant energy, the inability to sit still, the feeling of being at war with his own thoughts. And here was Peter, casually describing it like it was no big deal.
Arthur chuckled softly, his leg slowing just a little as he let himself relax. “Yeah. It’s hard to stop sometimes. My brain’s always on a loop of what-ifs and thoughts that I can’t really control.”
Peter nodded, his smile warm and understanding. “Same. It’s like... everything’s going at once, and the only way to keep up is to, I don’t know, let the rest of your body do its thing while the brain runs in circles.”
Arthur felt a little lighter. It was odd how easy it was to talk to Peter about this. Usually, he’d be avoiding these kinds of conversations, keeping the restlessness hidden beneath layers of control. But with Peter, it felt different. He didn’t need to apologize for his habits, or worry about being judged. It was just two people sharing an experience.
“You think it’ll ever get easier?” Arthur asked, his voice quieter now. It wasn’t a question he asked often, but something about Peter’s openness made it okay to ask it out loud.
Peter shrugged, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I dunno. Probably not. But I guess that’s just us, right? We’re always moving, always thinking. Maybe the key is to stop trying to stop it and just... go with it.”
Arthur nodded thoughtfully, the familiar anxiety starting to settle in his chest, but in a different way. Peter’s words were like a small wave, washing away some of the tension he carried. It wasn’t about fixing it or forcing himself to be something else—it was about accepting that this was part of who he was. And that wasn’t something he had to fight anymore.
“I think I could get used to that,” Arthur said with a small smile, looking over at Peter, whose grin had widened.
“You know,” Peter said after a beat, “I used to think I was the only one who had this kind of... energy. But now, with you, and Tony, it’s like I’m not alone in it. I mean, you guys get it.”
Arthur’s chest tightened at the unexpected warmth in Peter’s voice. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that. To hear someone else admit that they felt the same way—that they understood.
“Yeah,” Arthur agreed, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. “It’s nice, isn’t it? To not feel so... out of place.”
Peter nodded, bouncing his leg a little more energetically. “It’s like we’ve got our own rhythm. And we don’t have to hide it. That’s the best part.”
Arthur leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could breathe. His leg had started bouncing again, but now, it didn’t feel like a sign of anxiety or frustration. It was just... part of who he was. And in that moment, that was enough.
As the two of them sat in comfortable silence, their legs bouncing together, Arthur realized something he hadn’t fully understood until now. It wasn’t about fixing the chaos in his mind or controlling his habits. It was about accepting them and finding people who didn’t just understand, but embraced them.
And maybe that was the most healing thing of all.
“Thanks,” Arthur said softly, glancing at Peter.
Peter looked over at him, eyes bright. “For what?”
“For just... being you. It’s nice having someone around who gets it.”
Peter grinned, bouncing his leg a little higher. “Anytime, man. We’re in this together.”
Arthur smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him—a new kind of peace he hadn’t expected to find.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone in his own head.
To be continued…