Peter held the straps of his backpack as he walked through the rainy streets of New York City, letting the salty-sweet droplets twine with his tears that spilled silently. Peter wiped at them, shaking as he did so despite more droplets continuing to spill down his cream-colored face.
Today was a hard day or a trying day where everything felt sucky and sour and the feelings just wouldn’t shake off. All Peter wanted to do at the moment was curl up under his blankets and fall asleep on his bed.
Oh, how he hated Flash Thompson. Flash would go constantly out of his way to ensure that Peter’s life was hell. It wasn’t just the name-calling or being shoved into lockers, it was the idea that all this unexplainable hate was addressed to him. It was exhausting, to the point where Peter had begun to dread school in general.
A loose sigh escaped Peter’s lips as he entered the Avengers Tower’s elevator, allowing himself to feel things that he couldn’t put in words. It was like his head hurt but at the same time, it didn’t.
When he arrived at the Avengers’ floor, the teenage Stark shrugged his backpack off as he crashed onto the couch. He dipped his head back as his eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaped from his lips.
A weight plopped next to Peter and Clint Barton aka full-time Avenger, father, and uncle spoke, “Hey kiddo, how was school?”
Not wanting to burden the bow-donning man with his problems Peter shrugged and merely replied, “Good.”
“Peter,” Clint started, “I’m a top-level SHIELD spy and a parent of three kids. I know when something is bothering someone. Besides, my favorite and only nephew is usually a ball of energy.” He tossed out another nickname in an attempt to get Peter to spill, “Bud, you know you can tell me anything, you know that right? I’m your uncle, we’re here to help you when something’s wrong when your dad isn’t available at the moment, cause someone got on Fury’s last nerve.” The archer attempted to lighten the mood, “Something I didn’t even know the man had.”
Peter nodded, “Yeah.” He didn’t know why he suddenly felt like crying, maybe it was from Flash making a whole show about Peter being too ugly to be in the cafeteria and that he ruined everyone’s appetite, forcing Peter to cry as he left the cafeteria to eat his lunch in the boy’s bathroom of all places or from how soft and caring Clint’s tone was, and the next thing either Avenger knew, Peter was sobbing against the archer’s chest.
Clint moved his arms around Peter’s chest, pressing the crying boy against his side. He let Peter curled up against him, softly rubbing small circles on the boy’s back. Clint spoke softly as held Peter so they were still sitting side by side, “Hey, kid, tell me what happened.” He added as he stroked Peter gently, “It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
The only response the archer got was for Peter’s cries to increase tenfold.
Clint moved a hand to card Peter’s chocolate-colored curls, letting his nephew pent out his emotions. The older Avenger asked softly as he looked down at the weeping child in his arms, “Peter, what’s wrong?” He noticed a fading bruise on Peter’s cheeks and frowned, “My father senses are tingling.”
Peter spoke through sniffles, “There’s this kid at school who keeps on bothering me and I don’t even know why! He keeps on saying mean things and hurting me and he just won’t leave me alone! I thought I could handle it at first, but it’s getting worse and worse. I don’t know what to do!” He bawled against Clint’s shirt material, desperate to ground himself to something. He whimpered lowly, “I just don’t know what to do. I’m Spiderman, I’m not supposed to get beat up about things like this.”
“Aw, Peter,” Clint said, “I’m sorry.” He wore a fatherly smile as he continued, “That’s okay, we can fix that.” He wiped the tears off Peter’s face with his thumbs, “It’s going to be okay kiddo, you’re so strong and brave for putting up with that bully, or should I say jackass?”
Peter slightly smiled at that.
Clint enunciated a chuckle, “There’s that smile. But it’s true, people can be really, really mean. Jerks even. And sometimes, even a hero needs help, we’re humans after all, okay? You don’t, in fact, you never need to feel bad asking for help, okay? Ever. You have people who will always have your back, alright? And you have me too. Whether it’s this, homework, or even hiding a body, I’m your okay? Except for fractions, I hate fractions.”
Peter chuckled despite the tears blurring his vision.
Clint ruffled his nephew’s hair as he pulled the teenager closer to him in a side cuddle, “And whatever that punk-ass kid said about you, he’s wrong. Three thousand percent wrong. You’re not any of those awful things, okay? The Peter I know and love is such a good kid. He’s practically Lila, Cooper, and Nat’s older brother. He’s so smart and strong, in fact, he’s the bravest kid I know, yeah?”
The father and uncle pulled a blanket over Peter, draping it up to the boy’s chin, so the latter would be warm. The older man hummed as he gently stroked Peter’s back, “I’m here for you, whenever and wherever. Always. I’ll handle that kid, he won’t be bothering you anymore. You can rest up before dinner, how’s that sound?”
Peter smiled as he wrapped his arms around his uncle, His eyes fluttered shut as Clint tugged on his curls, “Thank you.”
Clint chuckled, “Don’t sweat it, kiddo.” He looked down after a few lingering moments of not getting a reply and smiled at the sight of Peter sound asleep already. He pressed a soft kiss at the top of Peter’s head before he reached for his phone in search of Natasha’s contact. He texted her about a certain kid who needed to be taught a few lessons.
A/N: thank the lord for Grammarly otherwise, the number of spelling mistakes I made would've been driving everyone crazy.
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Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel
Fanfiction["I'm only one call away, and I'll be there to save the day. Superman's got nothing on me.] This is the continuation of my previous oneshots book "Kid, tell me what happened". I write Irondad and Spiderson. And some with other Avengers too. If you...
