Dear Heart

Three days later, Peter's heat breaks before dawn and he takes a shower and actually feels a bit more human. He slips into Steve and Bucky's small kitchen and opens the fridge. Not a lot to work with, but there's a dozen eggs and he finds flour in the cabinet and a small carton of milk and some blueberries. He tries to be quiet because the couple are asleep on the couch, but when he turns on the oven to pre-heat Bucky jerks to his feet, grabbing his service pistol from the coffee table and pointing it at Peter.

Peter presses his whole body against the stove, hands up. He's not in heat anymore but Bucky smells like protective alpha so Peter bares his throat, submitting.

He sees the moment Bucky recognizes him. The horror dawning on the older mans' face. "Fuck. Fuck, Peter, I'm sorry. I just - I thought I'd sense your heat break." He carefully strips his gun, hands raised. Peter swallows. "I'm sorry," Bucky says to the floor. "It's the damn war. I punch Steve, like, once a week when he wakes me up. I'm the worst."

"It's okay," Peter says. It's his instinct to defuse tension. "I should have made some more noise or something. I just wanted to make breakfast. As, like, a thank you? For letting me crash and," he eyes the gun, "and protecting me."

Bucky snorts. Steve pops his head over the couch. "Do you need help?"

"I'm calling your aunt," Bucky announces. "And she is not coming over to find two omegas slaving away in the kitchen. I am not here to reinforce stereotypes."

"I like cooking," Steve protests.

"Too damn bad. You call the aunt, I'll help."

Steve took the gun from Bucky's hand and gave his alpha a kiss, slipping into the bedroom Peter had vacated. Probably to gather the sheets. Probably didn't want another omega's scent everywhere. Peter got that.

Bucky moves slowly into the kitchen, blinking like he's still trying to wake himself up. It's six am and even New York isn't all the way awake yet. "I scared you," Bucky says. "I'm sorry."

"Really, it's okay. Thanks for letting me. You know." Peter shapes the dough into scones. "And thanks for getting rid of that alpha. I don't know what would have happened..."

"I do." Bucky doesn't elaborate, but he does put a hand in Peter's hair, the same way Ned does, sometimes. Then he starts cutting bananas and strawberries into a bowl. After a couple of silent minutes Bucky starts talking about the protests to reopen the omega clinic, and how the police force in the neighborhood was stretched thin, and then he gets into a story about Sam confronting a protester and Peter puts the scones in the oven and the air smells like sugar and flour and Bucky's salt-and-sea smell and Steve comes in and smells like sunshine and Peter realizes that, despite the gun, this is probably the best he's ever felt coming out of a heat. He feels safe.

Of course, there's another reason for his happiness, and he barely manages to contain himself until Aunt May walks through the door. If she slept at all it doesn't show. She wraps Peter in a hug that seems to go on forever, Peter melting into it. This is the one smell he was missing, Aunt May's clean beta smell of soap and mint. She touches Peter's face, which is still bruised from where the alpha hit him.

"I'm fine," he says, and, like any parent, she doesn't believe him.

But she does turn to Steve and Bucky, and from the way she addresses them it sounds like they've been talking on the phone or something. "Thank you again for looking out for him."

"Of course," Steve says. "I would hope someone would do the same for me."

Bucky bites his ear, announces he's hungry, and pulls the scones out of the oven. They're perfectly golden, delicious with the fruit and the jam Aunt May produces from the depths of her giant purse.

Now that they're all sitting Peter clears his throat. "So, um, I kind of have a favor to ask? Another one, I mean."

They're all looking at him, so Peter rushes forward. "I applied to this internship at SI - um, you know, Stark Industries. And there was no way I was going to get it, and I was in heat and kind of forgot about it, but I got this email last night. I got an interview. For today. At Stark Tower." They're still staring. Steve looks pleased. Aunt May just looks worried. "So I was wondering if I borrow some clothes? Cuz the interview's at ten and I don't think I have time to go back home."

"Peter, honey," Aunt May begins in that tone that means she's about to say something that Peter won't want to hear.

"Congratulations!" Bucky says, thumping Peter on the back. "I don't know if you'll fit into our stuff, kid, you're a little on the scrawny side. But so was Steve when he was your age, so maybe we still have some baby Steve stuff lying around."

"What's the internship for?" Steve asks at the same time.

"Honey," Aunt May starts again, "you've had a traumatic few days..."

Bucky's on his feet, rummaging through the closet. Peter answers Steve first, "PA to Stark himself!"

"I wouldn't have pegged Tony Stark as the assistant type," Steve muses.

Bucky sticks his head out of the closet, "hey Steve, am I crazy or did Dr. Banner mention he was working for Stark, too?"

Steve's smile grew. "You'll love Bruce, Peter."

"He and Stevey served in the medical corp together. Ooh! Call him Captain Banner when you see him. He hates it."

Peter grins into his scone. "Then I don't think I'll be doing that."

Aunt May puts a hand on Peter's arm. "Honey, I know how much you admire Tony Stark, but is today really...?"

"The position needs to be filled immediately, Aunt May. And I'm fine! My heat broke. I'm eating a healthy breakfast. I'm fine."

If he says it enough, it must be true. Bucky pulls a white button down from the back of the closet and Peter makes sure to get changed in the bathroom, where no one, not Aunt May, not Steve, not Bucky, can see the finger-shaped bruises on his hips, or the raised welt on his collarbone, the one in the shape of an alpha's mouth. He's fine. He's fine. He's fine.

.

Not only does Tony have to suffer through one of Bruce's medical exams - given monthly, whether he needed one or not, just because he stays up for days at a time and occasionally skips meals he gets treated like a child - but he has to sit through a dozen surely boring interviews for a damn PA that he didn't ask for. Without coffee.

"You should be cutting out caffeine entirely," Bruce points out. "This is a sign to slow down."

"It's a sign that I need to be focusing my engineering prowess on the lowest form of technology: kitchen appliances."

"Can I be in the room when you tell Pepper that you're branching into coffee makers?"

"What do I need a PA for anyway?"

Bruce is scanning him with a StarkPad, probing gently around the arc reactor in Tony's chest. "Oh, are we talking about this now?"

"I have JARVIS. He's my PA."

JARVIS's voice echoed in the small medical room: "It has been pointed out to me that I am not corporeal, sir."

"I have Dum-E."

Bruce snorts. "You complain about Dum-E and Butterfingers so much that someone thought you actually meant it. Anyway, it's a high schooler. They can get you the caffeine you require and trail after you like a puppy, you love that."

The scanner beeps. Tony looks down at the reading and grins. "Healthy as a horse, that's what they always said about me. Also, incredibly handsome certified genius." Tony winks. "Can I hire a hot assistant?"

"Will you sleep with them if they're hot"

"Yes."

"You are a lawsuit waiting to happen," Bruce declares. "And I have a headache."

"You might need caffeine."

Pepper sticks her head in the room. "You ready for the first one?"

"If I kill myself," Tony asks Bruce, "could you bring me back to life?"

Bruce picks up all sharp objects in the immediate area and slips out the door as a ponytailed, high-heeled girl strides in, looking purposeful and about fourteen.

"Bruce!"

Bruce startles badly, nearly dropping the knife he rescued from Tony's desk. Hands descend on his shoulders and he half-raises his arms. A low, sympathetic chuckle. "Hell, Banner, you look like me two hours ago. The kid woke me up and I stuck a gun in his face."

Bruce blinks, and one of the many lounges scattered around Stark Tower comes into view, along with the dark, scruffy face of... "Bucky! I didn't think you ever got outside Brooklyn!"

Pepper is hovering, and Bruce is nothing if not polite. "Pepper, this is Sergeant Barnes. He and his team saved my life in Kosovo."

"Captain Banner saved my life first," Bucky shrugs.

"I thought I saved Steve first?"

"Like I said," Bucky shakes Pepper's hand, "he saved my life first."

"Pleasure," Pepper's grip is firm but warm. "We're very fond of Bruce. And I've had the pleasure of meeting Captain Rogers when he was helping Bruce design Stark Medical. He's your omega?"

Bucky stiffens. "My partner," he stresses.

If anything, Pepper's smile grows. "Of course."

"Seriously, Bucky, I would have gotten over to Brooklyn eventually. What brings you to our part of town?" Bruce hurries to add, "not that it's not great to see you."

Bucky inclines his head and for the first time Bruce takes note of the kids in the room, all watching them with various levels of interest. A dozen pimply high schoolers, dressed to the nines and reeking of entitlement and alpha. Not a surprise, as even by high school the education gap between alphas and betas, let alone alphas and omegas, is staggering. Most omegas leave school by the time they're sixteen, or, if they stay, attended all-omega high schools that are basically finishing schools, teaching omegas hot to cook, clean, sew, dance, and please their alpha.

Things are changing, of course. Pepper is evidence of that, and so is Steve, but in a world dominated by betas and run by alphas, omega rights have only recently been given a voice.

Which is why Bruce is so surprised to see a nervous omega hovering nearby, clutching a resume in one hand. "Dr. Banner," the kid says, and he's all eyes and hair and long limbs and Bruce has known Tony for years and could not have created a more compelling twink in a lab. "It's an honor to meet you. You, um, must meet a lot of fans, but I just wanted to say - your suppressants are the best I've ever been on."

Bruce shoots Bucky a look, and the former Sergeant just shrugs, his lips twitching towards a smile. Pepper wasn't even trying to hide hers. Most of the time when omegas in public talked about suppressing, they did it in a whisper. And Peter wasn't talking loudly, but he wasn't lowering his voice either. He talked about suppressants as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Which is exactly why Bruce had developed them. "I think you're overestimating how many science fans I get coming up to me, kid."

"Peter. Parker. Um, Parker's my last name. You can call me Peter."

"Just call him kid," Bucky adds. "We all do."

"You're a high school student?" Bruce asks. He remembers this pattern, talking over Bucky, examining the other soldier's frequent, good finds.

"I'll be a Junior in the fall at Midtown Science and Tech."

"Good school."

Peter jerks his head at the other hopeful interns, all sitting, all watching, some with their phones out. Time have changed. "We all go there. It's basically a feeder school for SI. And if you ever want to meet any more admirers, Dr. Banner, you should drop by."

"I'll keep that in mind." There's a fact on the tip of Bruce's tongue and he finally places it. "Peter Parker! You're the one who sent in the idea about the adhesive."

Peter looks bashful, his whole neck flushing. "You saw that?"

"It has some design flaws, but it's pretty ingenious to base it on spider webs."

"I got that idea from you!" Bruce knows Tony's going to like this kid, his whole body lights up when he talks science. He's not faking it for a line on a resume, this is a real passion for him, a way of life. "You always say that science's best ideas were things that nature did first and better."

"A fungus saved millions of lives."

"Exactly! Do you have any idea how strong spider webs are?"

Tony's office door opens and the ponytailed girl slouches out, pouting. Tony follows behind her, standing in the doorway. His eyes dispassionately over the suits and ties and sensible skirts waiting in the chairs before gliding over to the little group. Bruce watches Tony notice Peter. The youth of him, the straight lines, the omega.

Tony, probably thirty years older than this kid, actually licks his lips before his eyes completely light up. "Is that a prosthetic arm? Is it robotic? Is it one of ours?"

Bucky tenses and Bruce, knowing that the arm is a long story (that directly involves both Bruce and Steve) jumps in. "Aren't you supposed to be finding an intern, Tony?"

"I'm multitasking."

"I'm a little old for you," Bucky deadpans.

"Let me guess. Sergeant Barnes, dishonorably discharged even after you received the purple heart and bronze star, not to mention multiple honors after saving the good doctor here, who I'm guessing was the one who made that arm for you. A thank you gift? Not as good as one of mine, but he tries."

"An intern, Tony," Pepper stresses.

"Fine. I choose him." Tony waves at Peter, a gesture that probably looks random to anyone except for Bruce, who knows Tony well, and knows that Tony always gets what he wants. "Can I get a look at that arm, Sergeant?"

"Bucky."

One of the suited teenagers stands up. "Excuse me? You didn't even interview him. And he just showed up. I've been here for an hour!"

"Don't bother," one of the other teens says. She's on her feet and glaring at Peter, who meets the gaze head-on. "I bet I know I know exactly what kind of work Peter's going to do for Mr. Stark."

Peter flinches, eyes darting to Tony, who's focused entirely on Bucky's outstretched arm.

"I'm right, aren't I?" the girl calls, loudly, "You're hiring him just because he's an omega?"

Tony doesn't look at the girl when he responds. "I'm not. I'm hiring him because he sent in a brilliant idea as part of his engineering internship application and I suspect the reason we rejected him for that job is because JARVIS or Ms. Potts or both were already dreaming up this new position just for him. But to be clear," now Tony does look up, and his face is hard and stern, "I would be entirely in my rights to hire him just because he's an omega, the same way that Norman Osborn is in his rights to reject anyone he wants because they're an omega. I'm trying to right a little bit of wrong in the world and I get a smart PA in the process. Do you have a problem with that?"

The girl looks livid, and leads the clattering of heels and squeaky-footed march to the elevator and down into the real world. After the door closes after the last one, Bucky unhinges his arm and hands the whole piece over to Stark. "Just for that speech, you can play with it as long as you want."