Kid, tell me what happened

It hurts to live in the shadows

Through the crowded streets of some city that Peter doesn’t care to learn he follows his father through the shadows, the darkness to find refuge. It’s not fair, he envies the normal civilians, who get to live their lives without worrying about being harmed, or to deal with the fact that their father is Bucky.

It’s not that Peter doesn’t love his Papa, he loves him dearly. It’s just that they aren’t heroes. They don’t get bathed in eternal glory or fame or any of the stuff that Steve gets. People never forgave Bucky even though it wasn’t his fault. It was HYDRA’s fault. His father some feet ahead stops to allow his son to hurry up. Peter hastily quickens his speed not wanting to upset his father. Bucky intertwines his son’s fingers, “We’re almost there alright?” Peter only nods. He’s just not interested in all of this, he wants a normal life but he’ll never get it.

But as long as his papa doesn’t have to worry about him, he’s fine. But it’ll always hurt. It’s some guilt that doesn’t belong on his shoulders.

Papa looks over at his son who looks longlily at the people scattered on the streets. Papa knows that feeling all too well. To envy the people for being able to have a normal life. A life without hiding. But they have to hide. It’s just not safe for them. Bucky wishes he could live happily with his son, a life where his son does not have to live in fear. Bucky has grown accustomed to the shadows, he blends in, never blends out, by force and by habit. For Peter, Papa can tell he doesn’t like the shadows. And he rightfully shouldn’t. The shadows are a dark place.

 Papa looks both ways before unlocking the door, holding his metal arm out in front of Peter as protection in case someone is inside their apartment. But it’s clear. Papa exhales in relief, there’s no threat right now. Because if Peter got hurt, then hell would unleash upon all. And mercy would not be given whatsoever.

Peter settled himself onto his side of the small bed, after all it was around eight pm or so. And with a day filled with walking who wouldn’t be tired. Peter looked out the window, seeing the city come more alive, yet he never felt more dead in his entire life. Papa sat next to Peter, Papa’s large body making his small son seem even smaller. Papa began to play with Peter’s curls, running his hands through them, ruffling them, or just creating contact between Peter’s hair and his hands. Peter sighed, leaning into Papa’s chest. Papa sensed something was not right, “V chem delo?” What is wrong?

Peter only shook his head, not wanting his Papa to worry about him. Papa had other things, better things to worry about then his happiness, or anything pertaining him. Papa nodded, “Peter, eto normal'no, rasstraivat'sya.” Peter, it is okay to be upset. Peter spoke, “I wish we could be like them Papa.” Papa replied, even though he knew what Peter meant, “Kak kto, detka?” Like who, baby?

    “Like the other people. They get to be normal.” Because they weren’t turned into monsters, or rage-filled killing machines like me and you. Peter doesn’t say but the two know it. “It’s not fair. If it weren’t for HYDRA, then it would be okay. We could be normal, free, happy. Even though we are free, we still have to cower Papa. We still have to hide.” Papa sighed, “I know Peter, it’s not fair. You are right. But what can we do? One day we will no longer have to hide, I promise you okay? Papa doesn’t know if he can keep his promise but he will find a way. Peter continued, this time small tears racing each other down his face, “I hate it Papa! I hate how we have to hide! I hate hiding in the dark! It’s not fair! I just want to you and me to be able to be normal and safe! But we can’t.” More tears formed, fell faster and the cries turned to sobs. By now, Papa scooped up his little spider into his arms, rubbed his back and let him cry. Papa blinked back his own tears from seeing his son, his everything, so hurt. Because he couldn’t fight HYDRA. Peter sniffled, crying until the ache in his body was gone and all he felt was numb. He whispered, “I hate it Papa. I’m sorry Papa, I’m trying but it’s not fair.”

Papa nods, “You don’t have to be sorry, alright? You never have to be sorry. It’s not your fault. HYDRA made us killers, but one day we’ll undo it okay? We’ll be free and all the pain will be gone. I promise you okay?” Peter nodded, “Alright Papa.” Papa allowed his little spider to remain on his lap and the two were remained still in the comfortable silence, it was times like these when one desperately needed the other, and the comfort that kept the father and son strong.

“YA tak sil'no lyublyu tebya, moy malen'kiy pauk.” I love you so very much my little spider.

“YA tozhe tebya lyublyu papa.” I love you too Papa.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤