Tear Me To Pieces

They were eating their respective breakfasts, Peter was content with a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. There were a few conversations going on, and Peter sat quietly, listening to them. Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey were bickering because Bruce allegedly kept losing the TV remote, though he blamed it on Vision each time.

“Vision doesn’t even watch TV, Banner. I know it’s you.” Tony accused, his eyes shone with false annoyance.

Natasha was reading some article to Steve, and Wanda, Sam, and Bucky were listening in. The only person not involved in a conversation was Clint, who decided to speak across the table to Peter.

“Peter, are you going to go back to school relatively soon?”

He wasn’t going in that day, that was for sure. His school had already been in session over an hour.

Peter shook his head, “I’d rather not.”

Clint hummed his understanding, and Rhodey chimed in.

“You should go back, kid. Education is good for you.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll be fine for the rest of this week.”

The conversation extended. Bruce decided to add his opinion in as well.

“It’s good to work your brain Peter. And I’m sure your school has some sort of rules against skipping classes.”

Peter frowned, feeling annoyed. “I’m sure they’ll understand, given the circumstances.”

It felt like the entire table left their conversations to join Peters, as Steve spoke up.

“School is important, Peter. You shouldn’t need to miss that much.”

Peter rolled his eyes, huffing. “I think I can decide for myself what it is I need.”

“Whoa, kid.” said Rhodey, “We’re just trying to help you out.”

Peter dropped his spoon in his bowl, the clang of metal against ceramic rang out in an effort to show that Peter was angry.

“I don’t need to be helped.” He deadpanned, not looking anywhere but at his half empty bowl.

Natasha cleared her throat, gaining their attention. “Of course, Peter. We know you’re perfectly able to manage on your own but-“

Peter raised his voice, “I’m not, though! That’s the thing! You all keep acting like I’m perfectly fine when clearly, I’m having a shitty time adjusting to an entirely new lifestyle! What’s even the point of going to school when it’s like three entire hours away?!”

The table went silent, all eyes on Peter. He pushed his chair away from the table, storming off toward his bedroom. He wiped away angry tears that fled down his face.

He heard footsteps catching up behind him, and a hand landed on his shoulder.

Peter turned to find that Steve was the one who came after him.

“Hey, Peter, it’s okay.”

Peters shoulders shuddered, and he sniffled miserably.

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re right, it’s not, but it will be.”

Peter looked up at him with disbelieving eyes. “How is that suppose to help?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, “It’s not, but it’s true. I, of all people, can promise you that this feeling of pain and loss, it’ll fade.”

Peter shrugged. He leaned back against the wall and slid down it so that he was sitting in the hallway. Steve sat down, too.

“I’ve dealt with loss before...obviously, it’s just that everybody in this place keeps acting like I’m a kid who has no idea what I’m talking about, or like I’m some untouchable guy who has no emotions. There’s literally no in between and it sucks.”

Steve nodded, trying his best to understand. “What do you feel like?”

“I feel like somebody who’s just caused the loss of their last standing family member.” Peter said quietly, looking at his knees.

Steve sympathetically clicked his tongue, “Peter, it’s not your fault.”

“I know that!” Peter cried, unable to stop another few tears from escaping. “It still is, though. I didn’t even know her favourite type of flowers!”

“Peter, that doesn’t make any of this your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself the way that you are.”

“It still feels like I could have prevented all of this.”

“Yeah, and it always will. Life doesn’t work out the way you want it to.”

Peter wanted to roll his eyes, he wanted to scoff. Instead, he took that energy and used it to stand up.

“Well...thanks.” He said blandly, wanting to be finished with the conversation. Steve smiled.

“Anytime, Peter.”

Peter continued on to his bedroom.

His suitcase sat on the floor, open, but not unpacked. Peter decided he might as well do just that.

There was a dresser across from his bed, atop it sat a TV that had a few game consoles lined up beside it. It was obvious that Tony had taken into account Peters age and interests when setting the room up.

The walls of the room were a boring grey, giving the room a less than comfortable vibe that Peter wasn’t used to.

He started on his distraction, folding all his shirts and sweaters to fit in the top two drawers, then he made a drawer just for his pants. He continued with the rest of his clothing, until he pulled out his suit.

Peter ran the material through his fingers, the soft fabric soothed him.

He decided to put it on, feeling the protection of his alter ego envelope him. He left his mask off, and threw his pants overtop as he would if he were going somewhere. He threw a hoodie overtop and zipped it up, concealing the suit beneath. He stuck his mask in his pocket.

Peter wanted to go out, he wanted to patrol, distract himself. He wanted to learn a little bit more info about the driver from that night. Peter headed out of his room, toward the entrance to the compound, where he found Tony.

“Hey Pete.” Tony said, looking him up and down.

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter returned.

“What are you up to?”

Peter didn’t particularly feel like sharing. “Nothing, I was just gonna go for a walk.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “In your Spider-Man suit?”

Peter was confused, he looked down at himself, realizing that he hadn’t fully concealed his suit after all.

“Uh...”

Tony scoffed, “There is no way you were planning to go patrolling.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, I kinda was.”

“Seriously?” Tony ridiculed, and Peter felt a bit self conscious.

Peter shrugged.

“Yeah, sorry, but no.” Tony said firmly, there was no wiggle room in his words.

“Mr. Stark, it’s fine,” Peter started, but Tony cut him off.

“If you aren’t okay enough to go to school, there is absolutely no chance you’re in good enough shape to go out and be Spider-Man.”

Peter awkwardly pulled the zipper of his hoodie up, officially hiding the suit beneath, as if he needed to do that anymore.

“Mr. Stark I don’t need you babying me. I can handle it, it’s just patrolling. I’ll be back within a few hours and I won’t do anything you would or wouldn’t do,”

It was a mouthful of lies, Peter was sure to get in too deep with something or other and lose track of time, but he was trying to convince Tony to let him go, not swear an oath.

Tony shook his head, “Nope. Sorry kid. Not happening.”

Peter huffed, disbelieving that he was being told to stay inside.

“You can’t just keep me here.” He argued.

“FRIDAY, you’ll notify me immediately if Peter leaves the compound, correct?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Peter gaped at him, crossing his arms over his chest and turning on his heels. He stormed off toward the living room area.

When he got there, Wanda and Bucky were playing some card game across the coffee table. Peter stomped in, childlike.

“I cannot believe him.” He said, grabbing the two Avengers attention. Wanda tilted her head in question.

“Can’t believe who?” She asked.

“Mr. Stark won’t let me go out as Spider-Man.” Peter grumbled as he walked forward, taking a seat on the couch beside them.

Bucky looked at him funny, “Don’t you think it’s a little early to want to hop back on the hero train?”

Peter shook his head, “I’m ready to go back out as Spider-Man. I’m not a little kid. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah...but you said yourself that you can’t even handle school yet.”

Peter groaned. “School is different. School is facing a bunch of people who by now, have heard about what happened. School is explaining a hundred times why I missed two days and why I’m so sad. If I go back to school I’ll have my entire class trying not to set me off.”

Wanda looked at him thoughtfully. “I understand. School is facing the issue head on, hero work is putting on a mask.”

“Exactly.” said Peter, feeling a small amount of relief.

“You do seem a lot better.” Bucky said, smiling at Peter. Peter smiled back.

“I’m doing fine. All my wounds have pretty much healed.”

“Oh that’s good.” Wanda expressed, her tone light.

Peter nodded his agreement.

“Well,” Bucky started, slightly hesitant. “If you’re really wanting to work your powers you could always train with me.”

Wanda shot him a weary glance, but Peters face lit up.

“That would be awesome!”

Bucky grew more confident in his words. “Alright, later today I was planning to do some training. Wear your suit, lets see what you got.”

+

Peter met up with Bucky in the gym that evening. The gym of the compound was huge, and it had areas for pretty much everybody on their team to train. It was just Peter and Bucky there, this time.

“Hey Peter.” Bucky greeted, he was standing in the middle of the gym, where there were a bunch of mats covering the floor.

Peter carried his mask in his hands as he walked up, returning Bucky’s greeting.

Bucky walked Peter through a warm up, the two of them ran in place and did a number of burpees. Then, Bucky told Peter to stretch out his arms and legs. Peter did as he was told.

“So, kid, how do you want to do this?”

Peter took a breath, raising his head confidently.

“Hand to hand combat.”

Bucky gave him a calculated look, but nodded nonetheless.

Peter pulled his mask on.

“Hello, Peter.” Karen said, and Peter felt right at home.

“Hi Karen.”

“Okay,” Bucky began, “If you want me to stop, just say stop, alright?”

Peter nodded once to show he understood, then they began.

Bucky started him off easy, he threw a punch toward Peters head which Peter blocked. Peter retaliated, he lashed out to hit Buckys midsection, but Bucky grabbed his hand, twisting it away from himself.

Slowly, it started to pick up. Bucky would throw a punch, Peter would block it, then he’d throw in something new, maybe a kick or another punch, throwing Peter off. Peter was having a hard time getting many of his own hits in, and if he did, Bucky would block them.

Peter finally got a real hit in, right to the side of Bucky’s stomach, and he felt pride shoot through him.

“Ha!” He cheered, Bucky laughed.

Bucky stepped it up, taking Peters victory as a signal that he could take more. They were fighting for real now, a constant back and forth, hitting each other every now and then. Peter would groan, and Bucky would wait a moment longer to make sure he was okay. Peter would bounce back quickly, giving off various signs of mental and physical strength.

“Is that all you got?” Peter said, egging Bucky on.

So, Bucky took it a step further. His fist slammed into Peters side, causing the boy to take a few steps backward. Peter retaliated, kicking his leg out toward Bucky, but Bucky grabbed it with his metal arm, pulling Peter so he fell down. Peter bounced back up, reaching out to smack Bucky.

“Looks like someone’s a little rusty.” Peter said, dodging another hit.

Bucky scoffed, and his punches came one after the other, catching Peter off guard. Peter was sent tumbling backward, and he tripped over the edge of one of the matts, falling backward onto the ground.

Bucky smirked, “If you train your reflexes and strength more, maybe you’ll be able to stop the next semi.”

Peter felt his stomach drop, but Buckys face still wore what he thought was a joke. He had overestimated what Peter could take, but he didn’t know.

Peter stood up, feeling a flush of anger jolt through his bones.

“Karen, activate enhanced combat mode.”

Peter threw himself at Bucky, letting his anger fuel him. It was overwhelming, and he wanted to scream.

Peter heard Bucky say “whoa,” but he didn’t care, he put his entire body into the fight, swinging hard. He felt his knuckles hit Bucky’s stomach, then he watched as his fist just missed Bucky’s face. Bucky was stunned, and Peter took the extra time to attack him. He shot two webs at Bucky, gluing his hands to his sides.

“Kid-“ Bucky said, but Peter didn’t listen.

Peter kicked at Bucky’s stomach, sending him backward and into the ground. Peter jumped atop of him, slamming his fist into his nose. He tried again, but he kept missing. His eyes started to blur, and he only got more frustrated.

“Stop!” Bucky called, his eyes wide. Peter didn’t stop. Peter started to yell.

“You think that was fucking funny?!”

Peter rarely ever swore like that, so Bucky was rightfully shocked. But Peter didn’t care, he had a rage bubbling through him like hot lava.

Peter couldn’t breathe, and he reached up and tore his mask off, throwing it on the ground.

He started to go into hysterics, shouting foul words at Bucky as he tried to hit the helpless soldier on the ground, but still, he missed. Bucky’s nose was bleeding, and Peters punches grew weaker.

Peter felt hot tears run down his face, he watched them fall onto Bucky’s chest as he hit him. His punches were aimless and his vision was blurry. Peter was sobbing then, weakly grabbing at Bucky’s shirt, and then he was being pulled away.

Two strong arms looped under Peters armpits, and Peter kicked at the ground as he was dragged away from his fight. Peters breathing was erratic, and he couldn’t control the tears that came as he was placed onto the ground. Peter couldn’t catch a regular breath, his chest heaved convulsively. The arms that had dragged him away found themselves wrapped around Peter on the gym floor. He was pulled forward, and he vaguely realized it was Tony who had retrieved him.

Peter couldn’t stop. His nose was running, and he couldn’t breathe. He kept making involuntary cries of despair, and he clung to the front of Tony’s shirt. It was more than crying, it was the type of desperate sobbing that came only when one felt they had no hope left. Peter had no strength to quiet himself, his body shuddered with the weight of his sobs. His breath was ragged, and he kept gasping, trying to catch it.

There was a soothing hand on his back, but Peter continued to make awful sounds full of pain.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Tony whispered, his lips pressed to the top of Peters head. He repeated it over and over, holding Peter against his chest as Peter lost control.

Peter‘s grip on Tony’s shirt front loosened, and he managed to pack it down to only a few sobs a minute, rather than the constant river he had started with. Peters muscles still shook, his breathing was still inconsistent. He would have Tony convinced that it had returned to normal, and then his shoulders would shake again and he’d be fighting for his breath again, gasping like he was choking.

It was well over ten minutes later when he was finally able to calm down. His chest heaved, but he looked up at Tony.

His face was blotchy and red. His eyes were puffy from crying, and still filled with tears.

“M-Mr. Stark.” He said weakly.

Tony shushed him, pulling him impossibly closer to his chest.

“I’m so- I’m so sorry.” Peter cried, letting more tears fall.

“It’s okay Peter, it’s okay.” Tony said softly, rubbing his hand across Peters back. He tucked his other arm under the bend in Peters knees, and made an effort to stand up. Peter looked like a child being lifted in Tony’s arms. He pressed his face into Tony’s chest.

“It’s okay.” Tony said again, bringing Peter up so that he could fully stand. Tony grunted, but he pushed through the strain.

Bucky was still there, his hands were still stuck to his body, and he had a very bloody nose.

Tony looked him up and down as they passed, “You deserve that, Mr. Tin Man.” And they ducked out of the room.

Peter said nothing as Tony carried him across the compound. He just kept snivelling as he was brought toward Tony’s quarters. They passed a very concerned looking Steve in the hall, and Tony shook his head.

Tony brought Peter into his bedroom, which was huge, and Peter would have liked to swoon over it had it not been his first time in there.

Tony placed Peter on his and Peppers bed.

“FRIDAY, no one comes in or out of this room.” He called.

Tony then retrieved a number of blankets from a closet across the room, and he picked up a tissue box off the dresser.

Peter sat in a ball against the headboard, and Tony draped the blankets over him, tucking him up to his shoulders.

Tony sat himself down beside Peter, and Peter automatically attached himself to Tony’s side. He placed his head back on Tony’s chest, and Tony put his arm around Peters shoulders.

He pressed a soft kiss to Peters head, trying his best to spread nothing but comfort.

Peter loosely grabbed hold of Tony’s hand, he sniffled a few times.

“‘M sorry Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, his voice quivering.

Tony shushed him again. “It’s okay Peter, I promise.”

Peter yawned, nodding slowly against Tony’s side.

Tony squeezed Peters hand reassuringly, and sat quietly as the teenager drifted off to sleep. It was quickly, but Peter had exhausted himself mentally and physically more than he probably ever had, and Tony was happy to see him rest.

Tony tilted his head down so that his cheek landed on Peters head, and he closed his eyes. Not sleeping, but not daring to move a muscle and wake the poor kid who lay sleeping against him.

He stayed that way for hours, moving only when Peter shifted in his sleep. Tony watched him with fond eyes, hoping that Peter would sleep soundly through the night.