Sticks and Stones

11

Peter woke up in the infirmary with his arm in a cast and uncomfortable stitches all over. "Hey, honey." Tony greeted.

"Hi," He said. His throat was sore and it hurt to speak. "M'hungry."

"You want some jello?"

Peter nodded. "I have chocolate milk, too?"

"Of course. I'll be right back. Auntie Tasha is gonna sit with you."

"Kay." Natasha cams in as Tony went out.

"How you feeling, sweetheart?"

"Hurts."

"Yeah, I bet. You're very brave, you know."

"Daddy said that, too."

"We're all so proud of you."

"Thank you." He said sheepishly. "Auntie, is my other daddy here?"

"Steve?"

Peter nodded.

"I'm gonna have Tony explain that one to you, okay?"

"He died?" He asked sadly.

"No, no, no, god, no."

"Good."

Tony returned with a cup of jello and chocolate milk. Peter poked the cherry jello with a spoon, giggling as he watched it jiggle. He poked at it for a few minutes before eating it, then drank the chocolate milk.

"You still hungry, buddy?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. I have strawberries?"

"Nat, can you run and get my kid some strawberries?"

"Sure thing."

A few days later, Peter was allowed to leave the infirmary. As much as he wanted to run around and play, he was forced to be careful- they didn't want him to rip any of the stitches.

He was laying facedown on the couch, and everyone stared at him sympathetically. "Alright, Peter. What can we do to cheer you up?" Tony asked.

"No more stitches."

"They'll be out in a few days."

"They hurt."

He sighed. "Well, yeah."

"We watch Star Wars?"

"We've been waiting for you to ask that for an hour now." Natasha grinned, picking him up and placing him on her lap.

—

That night, while Peter was distracted watching Big Hero 6, Tony got a phone call. He left the room quickly and answered it. "Steve, you'd better be back here by tomorrow morning."

"What's wrong?"

"Peter! HYDRA had him for almost two weeks!"

"Jesus, is he o-"

"No, Steve, he's not! Not only does he look like death, he's been asking for you nonstop. We're lucky if we get him to eat twice a damn day."

"Tony..."

"I'm sorry that we fought, okay? I am. But this kid needs both of us here for him while he's growing up. If we're not there for him, he might end up being a bad guy that we fight in a twenty years."

"I'm on my way."

"Thank you,"

"I'm sorry, too, Tony."

"It's okay, Steve." He sighed, hanging up. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

—

"Hey, Peter. Wake up." Steve was sitting on Peters bed.

He stirred, and rolled over.

"C'mon, buddy."

He blinked and looked over at him, then gasped and sat up.

"Daddy!" He hugged Steve around the neck, ignoring the searing pain from his stitches.

"Hey, honey. I missed you."

"Missed you, too." He mumbled. "You lied."

"About what?"

"Sharon's a bad lady. She hit me and took me back."

"I'm so sorry, Peter."

"S'okay."

"What can I do to make to for it?"

Peter shrugged. "I'm hungry."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Cinnminin- cinna- Cinnamon Toast Crunch."

Steve smiled. "That can be arranged."

He picked Peter up and carried him to the kitchen and sat him on the counter while he poured a bowl of cereal. "Milk in it, or no?"

"No."

"Alrighty then, here you go."