Misunderstandings
Peter felt so free. The school day had gone by quickly, and the decathlon had a free day from practice. As he’d left the school, Peter had texted Tony to let him know he was going to patrol for a few hours. His Dad had texted back minutes later, telling him to be safe and be home by 5.
Now, at 4:50, Peter was swinging back to the tower. His Dad had seemed stressed this morning when Peter had left for school, and he didn’t want to stress him out any more by being late. He let himself fall lower than necessary a few times before catching himself with a web, enjoying the feeling it gave him, similar to being on a roller coaster.
As he reached the tower, he climbed through his bedroom window, not bothering to be quiet. His dad was probably in the lab anyway, since that was where he usually went to relieve stress. Peter removed his mask and backpack, tossing them beside his bed before taking off his suit. He jumped around as he pulled his legs into a pair of jeans and threw on a soft sweatshirt before exiting his bedroom. He hummed to himself as he walked down the hallway, trying to decide if he should go find his Dad first or get something to eat.
He was turning the corner into the living area when he suddenly felt a pain at the base of his skull, spidey senses flaring up, but he didn’t understand why. If he was in danger, surely there would be an alarm going off or something. However, his confusion quickly shifted to panic as he was slammed to the ground by strong hands, the breath being knocked from his lungs by the force. Peter struggled against his attacker’s grip, the feeling of heavy weight holding him down bringing back memories from homecoming night. He could tell that someone was talking to him in a hard voice, but Peter was unable to make out the words being said as his ears rang.
Peter’s arms were pinned behind his back, face pressed hard into the ground. His nose hurt and he thought it might be bleeding, and he knew there would be bruises from how hard the assailant was gripping his arms. Their grip only seemed to tighten as Peter struggled, trying to escape so he could pull air into his lungs. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes involuntary as he fought against unconsciousness. Passing out was not an option right now. He needed to get away from this person, not leave himself more defenseless than he already was.
Just as darkness began creeping around the edges of his vision, Peter heard his name being shouted and felt footsteps running in his direction. When the shout sounded, the grip on his arms loosened and Peter managed to squirm out of the hold. He tried to pull air into his lungs, choking on a sob as he saw his Dad approaching him. He reached his arms out towards the man, feeling safer now that Tony was there. His father quickly pulled the crying teen to his chest, moving so both of them were stood up. Peter couldn’t focus on anything around him as he breathed in short, stuttering breaths, leaning heavily on his Dad. However, he tried his best when he heard another voice.
“Who is that?” The man standing in front of them asked. Tony moved Peter behind back, shielding him with his own body. As Peter focused his vision, he finally understood why his Dad had been so stressed that morning. Standing in the hallway was Steve Rogers, Sergeant Barnes and Sam Wilson a few feet behind him.
“Who is that?” Tony mimicked, sounding angry. “Why didn’t you ask that before you attacked him?” Tony glared daggers at Steve, clearly pissed off.
“I did ask!” Steve defended himself, waving his arms. “I thought he had broken in, and he wasn’t answering when I asked who he was. And we still don’t know who he is,” Cap said, gesturing to himself and the two men behind him. Sam grimaced, while Bucky’s face remained slack, if not a bit confused.
“Well,” Tony growled out, “this is Peter, he’s my son, and if you know what’s best for you,” Tony paused, squinting at Rogers, ”you won’t ever attack him like that again.”
Steve’s eyes widened, as he looked between Tony and the sniffling teen that stood behind him. Peter didn’t have the energy to pay attention anymore, choosing instead to rest his head between his Dad’s shoulder blades, taking wheezing breaths. While his eyes were closed, he listened to parts of the conversation going on. He heard Steve say something about Tony keeping secrets. Tony shot something back about Steve having no right to lecture him about keeping secrets, which seemed to shut Steve up immediately, silence settling over them.
Then Peter was pulled into Tony’s chest, his Dad pressing his lips to the top of the teen’s head. He tilted Peter’s head up to wipe the drying tears off his face.
“Hi, Dad.” Peter hummed tiredly, leaning into the touch. His panic attack was over and the fatigue was setting in.
“Hey buddy,” Tony whispered, rubbing his thumb over his son’s cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about people being here. That shouldn’t have happened.” Tony’s face fell as the guilt weighed on him.
“S’alright,” the teen mumbled, eyes half closed. “Just glad you’re here now.” He leaned forward to press his face into his Dad’s collarbone. Tony picked the boy up, walking past the men who still stood in the hallway and out to the living room. He set Peter down on the couch, brushing a hand through his hair, before walking towards the kitchen. Peter stood up and stumbled after his Dad, not wanting to sit alone on the couch. Tony wrapped an arm around the teen’s shoulders as they walked to the kitchen together. Peter sat on the kitchen counter as Tony made them sandwiches.
Peter looked over his shoulder when the elevator dinged, doors opening to reveal Black Widow. She stepped out, locking eyes with the teen sitting on the counter before moving her sharp glance to Tony. She opened her mouth, about to speak, but the man cut her off before she could get a word out.
“This is my son, Peter,” Tony said roughly. He went back to making the sandwiches, not allowing for a conversation. Natasha glanced between them again, then walked towards the other men in the room. Steve, Bucky, and Sam had slowly moved back towards the living area.
When the sandwiches were done being made, Peter took his chance to talk.
“So, what are they doing here?” He asked the question that had been nagging him.
“They’re here to discuss the accords,” Tony answered, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. Peter saw the dark circles under his eyes and knew he probably hadn’t slept the night before. “I’ve been working on getting them pardoned, but I might have to rethink that now,” his Dad said, casting a dry glance towards Steve.
“Don’t,” Peter said, following his gaze. “It was just a misunderstanding. They didn’t know who I was.”
Tony grumbled something, but didn’t mention it again. They finished eating their sandwiches before moving to the couch in the center of the room. Peter asked if they could watch a movie, even though the teen knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake the whole time. Tony obliged grabbing the remote. He tried to ignore the tension in the room for a few minutes before sighing. He looked towards the stray ex-avengers who stood at the back of the room, looking uncomfortable, and made a hand motion indicating that they could sit down. They did, Sam sitting on a chair in the corner of the room while Natasha sat on the end of one of the longer couches. Steve and Bucky shared a small couch.
Steve spoke as Tony continued to flip through the channels.
“I’m... sorry,” Steve started, looking guiltily at Peter. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’ll leave if my being here makes you uncomfortable.”
Peter shook his head at the last part of the apology.
“You don’t have to leave,” Peter said, looking at Steve. “It was a misunderstanding. And I’m fine.” He added the last part, trying to ease the man’s guilt.
“Just don’t do it again,” Tony added, giving the man a blank stare.
They found a movie on tv that was agreed on and dimmed the lights. Tony grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, settling it over himself and his son. Peter laid his head on Tony’s chest, sighing tiredly when he felt his Dad’s fingers carding through his hair. He felt safe here, even after being attacked earlier. He curled closer to Tony, wrapping his arms around the man’s torso. He was tired, but wanted to make it at least halfway through the movie. Tony watched the teen’s brown eyes fall shut a few times before opening again. He leaned down to talk.
“You can sleep, you know.” Tony continued petting Peter’s hair. “I know you’re tired.” Peter just nodded against his chest, keeping his eyes open.
Peter managed to stay awake for another ten minutes. He closed his eyes again, and didn’t try to fight it this time. The low light was comforting, as well as the blanket around him. The last thing Peter remembered was mumbling incoherently against his Dad’s chest, and a kiss being pressed to his forehead.