Peace of mind

The God of Mischief

Peter looked at Bucky like a deer caught in the headlights. 'Bucky...' he thought that this name sounded familiar. The boy let his eyes wander over the features of the man sitting in front of him, still holding onto the cool flesh hand.

"You wanna keep my hand, kid?" Bucky asked and chuckled. A small 'God' and a painful grunt left the man's mouth as he straightened his back and repositioned his already hurting leg.

Peter immediately let go of Bucky's hand and took a step back. His brown eyes twitched lightly as realisation hit him. Of course, he heard the name before. Who hasn't? Bucky Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes. Captain America's right hand.

"Uh, sorry!" Peter apologised, but his excitement got the better of him, and his face broke out into a full-blown smile. "You are James Buchanan Barnes!" he loudly said but quickly covered his mouth when he realised that maybe it wasn't the best idea to yell out the other man's identity. At least not when there are people out there who want him dead. 'Can someone even kill the Winter Soldier?' Peter thought. 'Probably not.' 

"You're Captain America's right hand! I have heard so many stories about how you and Steve Rogers went to war and beat up Nazis and -" he waved his hands around in excitement, still not believing that THE Winter Soldier sat in his apartment. 

"Kid, take a breath." Bucky murmured and sighed heavily. "This was a long time ago. I'm not the man I used to be. So don't put me on a pedestal. That's the last thing I deserve."

Peter went silent. The smile on his face slowly vanished. Bucky was right. He did terrible things. Things that Peter had completely forgotten about in his moment of joy. Peter wasn't even sure he SHOULD be calling it joy. People died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, and here he was taking him in like the good samaritan he was. Or was he? Was he still good if he housed a murderer? The Avengers probably wouldn't approve of this either.

"Alright, kid. I can see the gears inside your head turning. I'll go on my way. I don't want you to be any part of this." Bucky pushed himself up onto his legs, grabbed the weapon that he brought into this innocent child's home, and headed for the door.

"What-no! Wait!" Peter said and used his spider-web-shooters to glue Bucky's hand to the door handle. The man looked absolutely terrified. Peter figured that he probably had never seen something like this before, so his big eyes and silent reaction were a win for the boy.

"What the hell -" Barnes said and pulled the sticky web off his hand. It was easier said than done. It stuck to him like glue, and every time he pulled, the web got tighter and tighter. He looked at Peter in frustration and annoyance.

"Get this off of my hand. NOW." he growled. 

"I will. I will, okay?" Peter promised. "But I want you to stay here. At least for a little while? There is so much I want you to ask. Like how you broke free from Hydra, how you and Captain Rogers met -"

The rest of what the boy said was drowned out by Bucky's own thoughts. He looked around the apartment, seeing arts and craft pieces scattered all over the apartment. Some finished, some not. Bucky figured those were his projects for school. 'Damn, just how young is this kid?' He winced at the thought of him putting an actual child in danger. His eyes wandered to the fridge in the small kitchen where multiple articles of the Avengers were being stuck to the metal door by magnets. 'The kid must really adore these morons.'

Bucky was brought back to reality when he felt warm hands remove the spiderweb from his right hand. Once he was finally free again, he looked at Peter.

"You're strange, kid." He said after Peter finished his rant of excitement.

"Oh, sorry. I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He explained.

But Bucky motioned for Peter to sit down at the table - which the kid did without hesitation. Before joining Peter at the table, James opened the wooden door slightly, his back pressed against the wall. He peaked out of the small crack to make sure no one was lurking in the hallway before closing the door once again and taking a seat on the other side of the table.