Sticks and Stones

4

When the other Avengers came to visit Peter a week later, he was very happy to see them all.

He was still very shy and recovering from the abuse at HYDRA, but happy none the less.

Everyone was surprised with how well he got along with Natasha, who was incredibly patient with him.

He was passed around from Avenger to Avenger, all of them cooing at how adorable he was.

Peter was sitting in Clint's lap, gnawing on a pen. "Are you hungry, Pete?" Tony asked.

He had to think for a moment before nodding. "I'll feed him," Clint volunteered.

"There's Cheerios and applesauce in the cabinet by the fridge." Steve instructed, and he saluted, then carried Peter to the kitchen and set him in the highchair.

"Alrighty, open up, Petey. Here comes the Millennium Falcon." Clint fed him the applesauce.

—

When Peter had been put down for his nap, Steve voiced his concerns. "He knows to tell us when he's hungry, but he doesn't. We only realize he actually needs to be fed when we hear his stomach growling."

"He is just a baby." Clint said. "He probably doesn't even realize when he's hungry."

"That's... actually really good, Barton..." Tony said. "Maybe you know more than you let on."

"Try putting him on a schedule for now often he eats." Sam offered.

"Why do you all know so much about children?" Steve asked.

From Peters room, they could hear crying. "And, that's cue for Iron-Dad." Tony said, standing up and rushing to his room.

—

The following week, Sam babysat Peter while the other Avengers were on a mission. "Sam. I trust I know what you're doing. If my kid dies, you will, too." Tony warned.

"I know, Stark. I care about the kid, too. I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, good." He nodded, then left.

Peter looked up at Sam with his big brown eyes. "So, whatcha wanna do, kid?"

He shrugged. "S'aw Wahs?"

"Saw Wahs... Star Wars?"

He nodded, and Sam shrugged. "JARVIS, play Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back."

Peter squealed in excitement and crawled up on the couch. Sam chuckled and sat next to him.

—

The Avengers arrived back hours later to see Peter and Sam passed out on the couch, both of them covered in scribbles of different colored markers, and Peter had a few Cheerios in his hair.

Some Star Wars movie was playing on tv.

Steve rolled his eyes and picked Peter up off the couch. "I'll give him a bath and put him to bed."

"Who's he?" Bruce asked. Tony had forgotten that Bruce hadn't met Peter.

"Bruce, meet Peter. Steve and I are raising him."

"Oh my god, you're gay. I knew it."

"No!" Steve and Tony shouted, which woke Peter up and made him cry.

"Look what you did, you made the poor kid cry." Bruce scolded with a smirk, then walked out of the room.

—

Steve gave Peter a bath and dressed him, but when he made to put him to bed, he protested. "No' sleepy."

"C'mon, Pete. It's bedtime."

"No!" He clung tightly to Steve, which was easy, with his powers.

"If I take you to see everyone, will you go to bed afterward?"

Peter pondered this for a moment. "...kay."

Steve carried him to the lab, where everyone was gathered. "Peter insisted on seeing everyone." He sighed. "Now you saw everyone, it's bed time."

"No! No' wha' I mean'!" Peter protested.

Everyone laughed. "Everyone say hi to the kid so he'll sleep."

"Hi, Peter." Everyone said in unison.

"Pete, this is Bruce, this is Thor, this is Maria, and this is Helen." Tony introduced him.

Peter waved shyly. Steve was soon sidetracked and sat Peter on a counter so he could help. He was soon very interested in a few stray papers next to his foot, and started looking at them. "Peter, are you reading those?" Natasha asked.

"Yes."

"Do you even know how to read?"

"Yes!" He said indignantly, crossing his arms arms huffily.

"Alright, fine. What are those papers about?"

"Doc'or s'uff."

Natasha frowned- he wasn't wrong. "What kind of doctor stuff?"

"'Bout Clin'."

"Stark, your kid knows how to read."

"What? No. He's two."

"He knows the gist of what these papers are about."

"Someone told him."

"No! I read it!"

"Fine. What's it about?"

"Clin'. And doc'or s'uff."

Everyone paused and looked at Peter, who stared back with wide eyes. "I righ'?"

"Yeah, you're right, buddy..." Tony frowned.

He beamed. "I righ'."

They all became distracted again, this time talking about Peter. Peter found something to entertain himself with- a pocketknife. He started gnawing on the handle, then started trying to figure out how it worked. The blade flicked out and cut his hand.

"Ow!" He whined. It was already bleeding a lot, and it was starting to run down his arm. Blood was nothing new to him- he'd bled plenty of times. He'd seen plenty of people bleed. But blood was usually hand in hand with pain, and his hand burned.

No one seemed to hear him. The blood was beginning to drip onto the floor, and he just started to try to gnaw on the blade. Just as he was about to put it in his mouth, Clint noticed and snatched it out of his hands, which cut his fingers.

Peter started crying, and now both of his hands were covered in blood. "Oh, boy." Steve said.