Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

I will always be here with you, no matter what

A/N: Timmy. Has. Returned. 

A four-year-old Peter Rogers tossed and turned in his sleep, muttering incoherent phrases as tears leaked out the corners of his eyes.

At first, all Peter saw was darkness. It was terrifying, at least at first, especially without the four year old's nightlight of his Papa's iconic shield. He walked further, there was a force within him pulling him forward, and with every step he took, the darkness morphed into a reality-like scene made within his own head.

Soon enough, he heard the sounds of grunts and mechanical whirrs, and when Peter looked for the source of the sound, he saw his Papa dressed in his red, white, and blue uniform as the source of those sounds as he went toe to toe with an oversized than usual being. Peter didn't know how to describe the being, but Peter assumed it was a monster. It was big and black, with white tattoos of intricate patterns engraved across it's arms. The monster was much larger than his Papa, and Peter already felt fear course through his veins.

The monster gravelly chuckled as it roughly pushed Steve, almost getting the soldier to fall off the rooftop building. Peter watched in horror as chills raced each other down his trembling spine, a multitude of worst-case scenarios played through his head. What if his Papa fell, what if something happened? Being the child of one of the most iconic Avengers' meant that danger wasn't an unfamiliar concept to him, but it also created scary thoughts about losing his Papa.

And that was exactly what happened.

The next thing that Peter knew, the monster threw his hand around his Papa's throat, and lifted a bloody and bruised Steve well off his feet. Steve made choking sounds as he weakly moved his calloused hands to the much-larger hand that was latched around his neck. He weakly kicked his feet, but wasn't very successful as he felt oxygen struggle to travel down his airways. And the next thing either of them knew, Steve's body went limp as his eyes shut.

Peter, clearly terrified, yelled as the monster carelessly threw his unconscious Papa's body off the rooftop. The monster only laughed as Peter ran to his unconscious and bleeding-out father. Peter couldn't prevent the welling up tears as he tried to shake his Papa awake, fear obviously evident in the boy's tone. The feeling increased tenfold as Steve didn't respond to any of Peter's pleas to wake up, indicating that the inevitable had happened. Peter threw himself around his Papa's bloodied slumped form, and sobbed. He was all alone again.

The next thing that Peter knew, he bolted upright in his bed with cold sweat plastered throughout his forehead. He started trembling as more tears spilled against his Captain America themed covers, and clenched his eyelids shut, trying to get himself together again.

The four year old immediately regretted doing so, as the first thing he saw when he closed his eyes was the dead body of his Papa, which formed a scream on the verge of tearing out of his throat. Peter waterily hiccuped as he clutched his clownfish stuffie. He moved his small self out of his bed, trying to get to the only person who could make him better: his Papa.

So, the four year old carefully crept through the wooden hallway, and knocked on his Papa's bedroom door. The four year old sniffled as he tightened his grasp on his stuffie, and pressed it against his chest, a fin tucked in the crook of his neck. He tried to calm himself down by running his chubby fingers over the fuzziness of his stuffie, hoping that his Papa wasn't sound asleep.

Not even a minute later, a groggy Steve Rogers opened his bedroom door to reveal a shaking Peter. A fatherly switch came over the Avenger as he immediately crouched down to Peter's level and gently ran a hand over his son's shoulders. He asked softly, careful not to startle the clearly distressed boy any more than he already was, "Pete, bear, what happened?"

Peter didn't respond to Steve's inquiry, instead choosing to launch himself towards his Papa's chest, and buried his head there. He started to sob against Steve's chest, taking the latter by surprise, but nevertheless accepting Peter's weight. Steve dipped his head down against his son's disheveled hair and rubbed soft circled against Peter's back as he whispered soft reassurances into Peter's ear, "Hey, you're okay. You're right here, in my arms. What's wrong bud? Did you have a nightmare?"

Peter nodded, pausing his cries to sniffle, "Yeah, I had a scary dream." He wrapped his hands tighter around Steve's neck, trying to get as close to him as possible. Steve nodded as he slowly lifted the boy up and returned back to the bed, "That's okay bud, you can stay with me, alright?" He carefully maneuvered himself and Peter back onto his bed and leaned against the headboard, tracing patterns on Peter's side as the boy's muffled cries continued.

Steve cooed as he planted a kiss on the top of Peter's head, "You want to talk about it? It'll help you feel better, I promise." In a ditch attempt to brighten up the mood, he exaggerated an eager smile as he booped Peter's stuffie that the latter had adorably named Timmy and exclaimed, "Hey Timmy, you want to help me make Peter feel better?" Steve then switched to a high-pitched squeaky voice, "Sure thing Papa!" Steve guided the stuffie to Peter's face and began to tickle him with it, causing wet laughs to fill the room.

That was all it took to get Peter to spill, "I had a bad dream, you and a bad guy were fighting." The toddler stopped to swallow and rested his weary head against Steve's chest before continuing, "Bad guy was a big scary monster Papa, he was so big!" He dramatized the height by throwing his hand up promising, "Real tall Papa."

Steve nodded solemnly, "Alright, bud, I believe you. And then what happened?"

Peter looked uncertain whether or not he should continue and leaned his head against his Papa's warm chest. He didn't vocally respond, but curled himself against Steve, small hands tightly fisting his shirt material.

Steve leaned his head against his son's, "Petey, if something's bothering you bud, you can always talk to me about it, I'm your Papa, I'm going to protect you forever. And nothing will ever stop me from keeping my baby boy safe." Or so help me God.

That got Peter to continue as the waterworks crashed, "The monster beat you and then, he, he hurt Papa so bad. So bad that Papa didn't wake up! I was all alone again!" He threw his arms around his Papa, trying to seek comfort for the ordeal that had conjured from a figment of his imagination, letting out a low whine.

Steve immediately understood what had his kid all worked up. He let Peter cry some more as he ran his digits through his curly hair and spoke softly, "Petey, it's just a dream. It's not real."

Peter asked waterily, "You sure, Papa? But, it felt so real." He hiccuped as he clutched his stuffie closer to his chest.

Steve nodded with a reassuring smile, "Yeah bud, it's just a dream. See, I'm perfectly fine right here with you. Nothing's hurting us, is there?"

Peter shook his head, brown irises filling with water as he looked into his father's baby blue ones.

Steve replied, "Then there you go. You just had a nightmare, we're okay. I know it's scary, bud, but the monsters aren't ever going to stop me from coming home to you. Alright?" He pressed a firm kiss to the side of Peter's head, reassuring, "I'm always going to be here, no matter what. I promise you. Alright?"

Peter giggled as Steve's beard scratched against his face, "Itchy, Papa."

It was Steve's turn to laugh as he repeated the action, enjoying the reaction that his son wore from it. Peter yawned as he returned back to his former position against his Papa's chest and rubbed his eyes. Steve spoke lightly, "Alright, kiddo, I think it's time to hit the hay, what do you say?"

Peter nodded, still clutching onto Steve, "I sleep with you?"

Steve nodded as he carried Peter to the light switch and back to the bed, "Of course bud. Whenever you want, alright?"

Peter nodded as his eyes fluttered shut, "Alright, Papa. I love you."

Steve grinned at the half-asleep bundle in his arms, "I love you too Petey, sweet dreams." And the next thing the soldier knew, he was sound asleep. 

A/N: Timmy. Will. Return. 

he's my little oc, don't you guys just love him? peter's adorable isn't he?