Project: A Stark Winter

Chapter Three: One Day More

The following weeks are filled with sneakily gathering materials, knowing that your fellow avengers would never understand, apart from Peter. So much about this screamed this is wrong, you should definitely stop this. Meddling with the fabric of time and changing events was something that was heavily frowned upon, but every time you'd pause your tinkering, you'd remember that your father would have stopped at nothing for you.
Every night, after patrolling the city and completing his homework, he'd swing down onto the roof of the tower where you would be waiting anxiously, ready to begin assembling your last hope for having your father back.
"Hey, how was school?" You ask absentmindedly, glancing over as Peter tossed his book bag to the ground and pulled his mask off. His brown locks were disheveled as he shook a hand through the knots to try and pull himself together.
"Just a typically day for good ole, Penis Parker." Peter sighed, hurt evident in the way his shoulders slumped as he walked over and began tinkering with the the various parts you had collected.
"Flash is still calling you that?"
"It's not even a good insult. I think that's what makes me the most mad. Like call me Oliver Twist or something?"
"Oliver Twist?" You question with a quirk of a brow, squinting at Peter as his lips twitch up in a half smile.
"Because I'm an orphan."
"Peter Benjamin Parker! That is NOT funny!"
"A little funny." He chuckles as he raises his thumb and forefinger to pinch them together with just a tiny space showing. Snorting a laugh and rolling your eyes, you shove Peter and walk to the other side of the pile.
"I'll allow that because I'm in a good mood today." Peter eyes you nervously, opens his mouth to speak and then drops to his knees and begins intently sifting through the pile and pulling out a wire converter. Your eyes follow him, narrow and analytical as he moves. Peter is shifting uncomfortably on his heels, working quickly to take the attention away from himself.
"Peter?"
"Yeah, y/n?"
"Why are you being weird?"
"I'm not being weird!" Peter raises his voice, the sound a bit shrill as he tries desperately to convince you. Pointing a finger at him, you close the distance and face him. As he tries again to open his mouth to speak, his head tilts to the side and he winces; eyes going wide. The 'Peter Tingle' as Aunt May called it. Both you and Peter spring into action to cover as much of the random scraps as possible and disguise what you can.
"Friday! Cloaking mode, now!" You hiss at the AI.
"Yes, Ms. Stark. Activating Cloaking mode."
"Jesus, you don't have to announce it!" You seethe, waving your hands angrily while placing a tarp over a few remaining pieces. Peter plops down on the edge of the roof and pulls a text book from his book bag; pretending to study as you run up by him and act as if you're spending time together. A squeak of a door accompanied by a set of footsteps has you both turn around to see Steve's smiling face.
"Y/n, I was looking for you. And Peter. I didn't expect you to be here, especially so late." His voice is calm and level, smile remaining as he looks between the two of you. Not trusting Peter to speak, you take a step forward and place a gentle kiss on Steve's cheek.
"You found me, Captain." You whisper, going on your tiptoes to make sure only he hears before leaning away and giving him a winning smile. There's a flutter in your stomach at the way Steve's cheeks blush and breath hitches while looking at you; the feeling so familiar and loving as you gazed into his blue eyes that shine back at you. Realizing that you had been staring for a bit longer than was socially appropriate, you clear your throat and gesture to Peter.
"Peter swung by for some homework help."
"Nice." Peter scoffed, closing his textbook with a thud and dropping it in his bag. Steve's smile faltered slightly as his eyes went from yours to Peter's in confusion. He watched as Peter gathered the remainder of his things and turned to you nervously.
"Uh well. Thanks for the...help. I'll talk to you later. Nice to see you, sir."
"You don't want to stay for dinner? Sam is making his chicken and dumplings." Steve entices with a smile, though you began to notice the posture shift of him sensing that Peter was up to something.
"I think he should get home, Steve. You said it was late and I don't want Aunt May to worry." You bite your lip as you hope that your many lessons with Nat on persuasive techniques worked. Steve nods and wishes Peter a goodnight as he watches the kid swing off into the distance.
"Did you think Peter seemed...off?" He asked after a moment.
"I guess a little. He's been picked on at school lately so maybe that's why." You justify with a shrug, taking his hand and leading him back toward the stairs. Steve pulls you up short and pulls your face close to his; pressing your foreheads together. You close your eyes as you savor the closeness of his embrace and slowly wrap your arms around his torso.
"Are we okay?" Steve asks suddenly, his voice sounded small and with everything in you and after all you had been through together in this moment it felt like you couldn't allow him to feel like he didn't matter to you. You take steadying breath and pull away watching as Steve does the same preparing for the worst; pinching his eyes shut.
"I love you, Steve."
Silence.
"But?"
"There is no but. No conditions. No amendment. I just love you. I am sorry that I made you feel like this—like you needed to stand here and have me break your heart. I don't want to do that. I am so messed up and I am trying so hard to fix that." Your breathing is ragged as you plead with him to understand and hear your words, his eyes opening to meet yours with a glint of hope. You felt it too, a small glimpse of who you used to be; passionate and fiery in a way that made people happy and drawn to you, not feeling hurt. Steve cups your face and runs his fingers over your cheek.
"I could never stop loving you. In this universe or any other. You're it for me, doll. I'll take every mistake if it means that I can still get to see this pretty smile and hold you in my arms." He murmured, pulling you close; and you could tell he meant it.
"I don't deserve you, Steve."
"I know you do, y/n."
"Steve—"
"Because you saved me over and over again; especially during those five years. I didn't deserve half the chances at life I got, but when I was able to see your face again which I did remember those twenty one days down to the second by the way, walking down the ramp of that ship, I knew that I'd do anything to keep you in my life. Whatever that looked like."
"I don't know how to be that me again. I'm trying and I'm doing everything I can. I promise. I'm trying to fix it."
"Shh it's okay. I'm here and we will get there. There's therapy and the team are here to talk and work through things. It takes time." Steve reassures as he holds you in his string arms while you cry. He didn't know your plan and that your tears were of guilt and fear of if this didn't work. Gradually your tears subsided and you leaned back to pull Steve into a deep kiss. Your mouth met his passionately, tongues melding together in a slow kiss. Reluctantly you both leaned away; Steve taking your hand to lead you toward the stairwell.
"I don't expect you to change overnight, y/n. I'll be here no matter what." He states firmly, squeezing your hand. You give him a tight smile and nod as a sick feeling settles in your stomach.