Peter really wished he could call May. He really really wanted to call her and as the tears pricked at the corners of his eyes the desire was all too present in his chest. She’d been up front with both Peter and Ned when they’d hit junior high that she would always come and pick them up whenever they felt they needed a way out. Always. She didn’t promise not to lecture them but she did promise that they could always rely on her to get them out of a situation they felt they needed an out from. He was pretty sure she’d been referring to drinking when she’d told them but her promise always stood even when she found out about Spider-man.
But he couldn’t call her. He wasn’t at some party he felt uncomfortable at. He was stuck in the middle of Avengers Compound, grounded for the weekend, and he was pretty sure she’d just ground him herself when he explained. Still, he’d almost rather May ground him than anyone on the team.
Team. What a joke. It was that idea that’d gotten him in trouble to begin with.
Things had been tense at the Avengers Compound ever since the rest of the ‘team’ came back. Since the others that went on the run with Cap came back. Mr. Stark had been stressed the entire time.
Peter, thankfully, had been mostly removed from the situation but he still worried. He’d seen the black eye Mr. Stark had been trying ignore when they’d given Peter a ride home from the airport. Mr. Stark had been flying with his quips every time Peter came over to work in the lab the whole time leading up to Captain America and his team’s return but he never specifically talked about it with Peter.
But now, he was stuck in the middle of it all. Mr. Stark and Captain America were doing this weird dance around each other. Neither knew which one was exactly in charge. Sometimes it was like they were trying to avoid stepping on each other’s toes and other times they were openly objecting to what the other one thought was the best course of action. It made everything awkward and uncomfortable.
He’d gotten a ride upstate with Happy for a whole three week retreat that basically meant Peter was running through intense training before the summer break started and he was able to go out on patrol more often. Well... intense by Peter’s standards. The others, he was pretty sure, felt like it was a slow start to their normal routines and he was pretty sure it was because of him.
And it was because of that feeling that led to the fight between Mr. Stark and Peter that ultimately got him grounded.
It was humiliating and if he didn’t feel like a baby in time out before he certainly did now.
It’s not like the others exactly said anything in particular and Peter would be the first to admit that he was on a very steep learning curve when it came to strategy and tactics. The others were so used to it that it was practically like breathing for them. But the little aside comments and the fact that sometimes the others even laughed when he messed up had him pushing himself harder than he ever had which apparently wasn’t enough because the harder he pushed the more epic fails he experienced and---
Peter stopped because it was only making the burn behind his eyes sting more and the longing to call May stronger. This wasn’t some party he wanted to escape.
Whatever. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. And it seemed like if there was anything that could unite the Avengers it was watching Peter bring another training session to a halt. Literally.
He’d been mid swing, trying to keep up with whatever Steve had been ordering in the comms on top of the other chatter that almost felt like home among the rest of the team, when he’d felt the shift in air beside him. The arrow cut through his webbing but he’d been ready and was already twisting his body around to accommodate for his drop when one of Falcon’s wings clipped his leg sending not only Peter careening into Mr. Stark’s path but knocking Falcon into a spiral. But Peter had been pushing himself and swinging his webs with a large arch and propelling himself higher than necessary and trying to cover more area faster and… Basically it ended with Wanda catching Falcon and Tony dive bombing to catch Peter who had been winded--- maybe because he cracked some ribs but whatever-- at the hard impact with Tony’s suit.
That ended with Tony lecturing him about his increasing recklessness and flat out calling Peter out on his need to prove something which he didn’t think he’d been that obvious. It was all the things Peter had heard before but the edge in Tony’s tone left no room for Peter to be able to explain himself. All the stress and tension he’d been dealing with, he was taking out on Peter and it wasn’t fair. It didn’t help when Steve Rogers had chimed in.
“The thing is, Peter,” Steve had started. “You’re working as a part of the team and it’s ok if you work at a different pace than everyone else. That’s what makes this work.”
But what Peter had been doing hadn’t been making things work. It’d been left unsaid but Steve was as transparent as a window. He thought Peter was too slow. He thought Peter was dragging everyone down. And even if he was doing all of that, he didn’t need Steve pointing it out.
“Yeah, no offence, dude” Peter had bit back because Steve had jumped in while Tony was still exasperated and upset and suddenly he felt like he was being ganged up on. “But I don’t think you get to tell me about what it’s like to be on a team.”
Steve looked as shocked as Peter felt because he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. No one had actually brought up the shocking split in the Avengers team until then and a curtain of stifling awkward tension settled over the three of them.
“And you don’t get to talk to adults like that, dude,” Tony drawled out. “You’re grounded for the weekend. No suit and no workshop time.”
Peter may have stormed out after that. Whatever.
If he didn’t have his heightened senses he never would’ve known she was there. He sniffed quickly into his wrist before she could see and went back to messing with the tape around his hands.
Mr. Stark didn’t say he couldn’t go into the gym and if Peter wasn’t allowed to train with the others, that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to train by himself. He’d spent a few hours trying to get a good rhythm going with a punching back but all he had accomplished was splitting his knuckles bloody with inexperience and overworked arms.
Natasha smoothly slid onto the bench in front of him and took to unwrapping his wrist herself.
“They worry, you know,” she said after a little while. “About you.”
Peter could remember what Mr. Stark said that day on the ferry. How everyone thought he was an idiot for bringing on a kid. How everyone thought he was a mistake. Natasha had never outwardly said anything about it but maybe she was in agreement.
Peter pulled his hands away from her and went back to trying to untangle the tape around his wrist on his own.
“I’m trying to keep up---“
“That’s not what I meant.” Peter made the mistake of meeting her gaze when she said that. It was exposed and guarded at the same time, only open to the parts she wanted him to have access to without letting him get lost in the dark spots. He flushed red to the tips of his ears because he was pretty sure he’d never experienced something so intense before because Natasha was always so intense even in her humor and making direct eye contact was always hard with a normal person let alone someone who could read him just from the way he ate lunch.
He dropped his head to look back down at his hands.
Eventually, long deadly fingers gently took his hands from his lap and eased the tape away from the broken skin around his knuckles.
“You’re different from the rest of us,” she said. “You weren’t really a part of the fracture we all experienced. They don’t want that happening to you.”
“I’m fine,” he replied on automatic. A delicate finger pointed under his chin and lifted his head up until he was looking at her again.
“Resentments are what started the whole thing.” It was a statement as much as it was an invitation.
Peter worked his jaw a couple times as he felt the stammer build up on his tongue. “I… I… I just wish… I wish they would just stop treating me like a kid.”
“You are one though.” It wasn’t a contradiction. Just a fact. But Peter had heard it too many times not to feel the curls of defensiveness take hold of his chest.
“I know. But I’m.. different,” he said trying not to snap at her. The last thing he needed was for May or Tony to find out that he’d been disrespectful to Black Widow of all people. He was already in trouble with back talking the embodiment of America. “I don’t need protecting. I just want to be like you guys. It doesn’t matter anyway. No matter how hard I try to prove myself, they don’t see it. All they see is me falling on my face or messing up or whatever.”
“So, don’t give them reason to be looking your way.”
“I’ve been trying but nothing ever---“ And oh, God that stupid burning behind his eyes was clawing around his throat because nothing was ever good enough and it was frustrating and he definitely did not want to cry in front of Natasha
“I mean, Peter, don’t give them a reason to hover. They’re always going to worry about you. They’re men; blood tends to stress them out.” Her lips coiled into a small smile when he let out a snort. “Be two steps ahead of them already that they don’t have a choice.”
“How?” He asked, his voice cracking even though he was trying not to let it.
“First, you stop with this,” she hummed tapping beside one of his bloody knuckles.
“I heal fast.” He shrugged because yeah ok she had a point but it wasn’t anything she needed to be worried about.
“Doesn’t mean you should be reckless. Speed and recklessness aren’t mutually exclusive. And don’t let the others fool you. They’re just as reckless as you. But they’ve gotten better at hiding it.” She finally freed Peter of the twisted tape and tossed it aside
“Second, I’m going to teach you how to think like the rest of us.” The same deadly delicate finger came up and brushed away a stray tear on his cheek. He shoved his wrist against his nose and wiped away any other trace that he’d been crying because even with a pep talk, it was still totally embarrassing. Natasha waited a little longer for Peter to calm down before she swung a leg over the bench and stood.
"C'mon," she called, jerking her head for him to follow.
Peter slipped his forgotten zip up hoodie over his shoulders and twisted his hands into the fabric of his sleeves before rubbing them against his face. Natasha led them down the stairs and further onto the matts where Clint Barton was standing and waiting.
“Hey kid,” he said, something apologetic in his eyes.
“Hi,” Peter responded, clearing his throat from the thickness of his early lapse of emotions. If Clint noticed, he didn’t say anything. Clint and Peter hadn’t really spent much time together since the team rejoined but he liked him enough. Clint and Natasha were the only two who weren’t doing this weird awkward tense dance around each other since his return. They were like Peter in a sense, stuck in the middle of all the weird pretenses. They fought against each other in Germany but Mr. Stark had explained that the two of them had far more history behind them that a stupid fight in an airport wasn't going to separate them. They’re fighting style was as fluid and twisting as the wind and he may have nearly passed out when he first got to watch them run an old SHIELD drill together.
“Sorry you got the brunt of Cap and Tony’s stress,” Clint said as Natasha went over to slip off her shoes. “We were expecting it to happen eventually. We didn’t think you’d be caught in the middle of it.”
“It’s ok. Not your fault.” Peter shifted on his feet, feeling uncomfortable.
Natasha strolled over to them and wordlessly the two assassins stepped into a more comfortable fighting stance, watching him expectantly.
The disappointment flooded Peter’s face. “Mr. Stark said I wasn’t allowed to train. He took my suit.”
Clint relaxed and stepped over to Peter, slapping a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re good at taking hits and avoiding them but we’re going to teach you how to hit back. You don’t need your suit for that.”
An infectious wicked grin spread across the archer’s face that Peter couldn’t help but share.
When his grounding was lifted and both Steve and Tony stumbled through an awkward lecture/apology, they were surprised at their next sparring session when Peter lunged at Steve and flipped the super soldier onto the ground with only his thighs.
Grabbing a wrist for leverage so he could jump one leg up onto a shoulder, swinging his other leg up and squeezing before twisting his body over the shoulder and to the ground. Just like Nat taught him.
It was pretty awesome.