While There's Still Something Left

The One Where They Argue-Part One, Probably

Peter still vividly remembered the night of his Uncle Ben's death. He wasn't sure if it was his enhanced senses or adrenaline, but each second was forever seared into his mind. He remembered the siren's wailing too far in the distance, people on the far street corner muttering in short panicked phrases, torn between the fear of approaching  and concern for the kid holding a dying man. He could feel warm blood seeping through the fabric of Ben's night shirt and dripping down his shaking fingers, his knees aching from skidding them across the unforgiving concrete. He could still hear his choked off sobs, so loud in his ears he could barely hear his uncle's last words as his usually bright eyes dulled to lifelessness before him. False promises tumbling from his lips between pitiful cries, begging to anyone or anything that would listen to let his uncle live.

Not that it mattered.

After something so traumatic, it only made sense that the fear of death that he had as a child in the wake of his parent's demise would resurface. Images of May dying over and over in dozens of different scenarios plagued his dreams for months. As different as they were, one thing they almost all had in common was that they ended in that same horrible position; him holding her in his arms watching her life fade away. When he would finally thrash himself awake, he would be shaking in fear, feeling gutted and empty.

Peter, for whatever reason, didn't feel that now.

After Peter's proclamation, everyone was shifting, antsy and bursting with questions, but after a sharp warning glance from Natasha, everyone remained silent.

Tony watched Peter warily. For someone who was usually an open book, his face was impossible to read. His brows were slightly pulled together, but the rest of his face wasn't hard or grief stricken, like it was when he arrived at SI. He almost looked...resigned. Not that Tony was particularly good with any emotions, but what the hell was he supposed to do with that? How do you aid with resignation?

Tony walked to the bar, buying himself some time to think, meeting Natasha's eye as he passed. Despite what she would tell everyone, he saw first hand how nurturing in nature Natasha was. After New York, when she thought he was asleep, she would come to his room and fluff his pillows, running her fingers through his hair as she sang lullabies in his ear, just like his mom did when he was a child, the exception being that his mom sang in English, not Russian. He saw how much it pained her for the team, her family, to fight one another, how desperate she was to make things right between them . He would never tell her, but it was because of her that he worked day and night to come up with the initial revision of the Accords. It was because of her they were all together again.

Tony nodded his head to Peter, pleading silently for her help as he grabbed Peter a water from the fridge. She shrugged, taken aback that he would ask her of all people, but gave him a curt nod of encouragement at getting him the water. He gave Natasha a 'thanks a lot' look, rolling his eyes, but she just smiled wryly.

Steve watched the whole scene quietly, not wanting to intrude. He almost felt guilty for sitting there at all when the kid was obviously going through a lot, but there was more they needed to discuss before he could leave. So he did the next best thing, keeping his eyes trained on the floor while he waited for Peter to process what he just learned.

He did look up when Tony started moving across the floor, glancing at Sam and Bucky to see if they noticed the way Tony seemed to be looking to Natasha for guidance. That was a new development. Tony never looked to anyone. They didn't seem to notice, though, so he told himself he would mention it to Natasha later.

Tony placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, and he jumped. "Here kid. Drink up."

Tony seemed to hold his breath when the kid turned to look at him, Peter's eyes going from Tony to the bottle, and back before took the water. Peter watched his fingers as he unscrewed the top off slowly, before finally opening his mouth.