Hold Onto Me 'Cause I'm a Little Unsteady

Chapter Twenty-Three

After a restless night filled to the brim of nightmares, more brutal than they ever were before Sir, Peter eventually gives up on trying to sleep. It's too much effort to stay quiet through his tears whenever he wakes up, so he doesn't wake the sleeping figures of Ned, MJ, and Harley sprawled around the living room.

He heads up to the room where Ash's crib is.

"Hey, kiddo," Peter says when he spots her. She's sitting up already, wide blue eyes staring up at Peter and a smile spreading across her face. "I was going to ask what you were doing up, but that's kind of hypocritical."

He gently pulls her out of the crib, cradling her against his chest.

Rocking her slowly, he pretends it's for her and not for his own calmness.

The room is dark, promise of morning soon with the light peeking through the windows. Her little mobile spins idly, Avengers figures bouncing as it makes it a circle. It's Morgan's old mobile and crib from when they adopted her as a toddler. Peter remembers the stories from his pops about how much Tony begged to have all Avengers themed things for his kid.

He doesn't know how long he stands there, rocking Ash in his arms, and watching the sun inch it's way up between the distant buildings and trees. But some time, long after he'd abandoned sleep, the door behind him is pushed open.

Turning, he finds Harley's the one in the doorway, head leaning against the doorframe, watching them with an indescribable mix of emotions on his face.

"Hey," Peter murmurs. Ash is asleep in his arms, pins and needles creeping up his skin at the weight in his arms.

"Couldn't sleep very well," Harley explains, answering the unasked question. "I'm assuming you couldn't either?"

Peter shakes his head silently, carefully moving to set Ash back in her crib. Once he's sure she's tucked under her purple blanket, teddy bear clutched in her hands, he turns back to Harley.

"C'mon," is all Harley says, beckoning to Peter before leading the way out of the room.

They get into the elevator where FRIDAY greets them quietly. The metal doors slide shut and it soundlessly begins its descent.

Peter opens his mouth as he watches the numbers get smaller and smaller, panic suddenly gripping his chest.

But Harley beats him to it. "We're not going far, and I stole Dad's fancy gauntlet watches, so we'll be just fine. I grabbed your web shooters too. Nothing's going to happen, but they're so you feel safe."

The little contraptions are gently clicked around his wrists before his sleeves are pulled down to his hands. And then the doors slide open.

The lobby is already bustling with life, six am employees making their way to the elevators and their designated working floors. Most of them are carrying coffee or some type of beverage in mugs from a nearby coffee shop or from the free coffee machines in the lobby. None of them even blink an eye at the two teenagers. Everyone knows the Stark-Rogers boys.

Harley links their arms together, as though sensing Peter's rising worry at the groups of adults, leading them towards the doors, the bright outdoors shining through the windows.

"Are you sure?" Peter asks, leaning probably too close to Harley when he speaks, keeping his voice low like he worries about eavesdroppers.

Harley's somehow able to offer one of his lopsided grins in return, leading Peter right out the doors and onto the sidewalk.

Peter can't help but breathe in the early morning air, sun shining on his pale skin. Through his paranoia, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed going out into the real world.