Chapter Text
The crowd was loud, and the uniform was stifling in the callous 100 degrees as the Rogues walked off the plane. Still, Steve attempted a fair approximation of a smile. Their support was much appreciated after the fiasco with the Mad Titan.
The smile faded as soon as the noise became clearer and he realised they were being booed. A rotten egg landed square on his face, triggering his gag reflex and a tomato dyed Nat’s blonde hair red again. Clint, to the side, groaned as some yolk got in his eye. “Damn, who in this crowd is so good at aiming?” Steve stifled a sigh, swallowing down the lump in his throat.
It’s just eggs, he told himself. Eggs and tomatoes. It could be so much worse.
General Ross had been dragged out of court by an angry mob and damn near beaten to death. The cops and judges had intervened at their cool leisure. The man was still drinking out a straw, nearly two months after that ‘accident’. Nobody had been punished. This was just eggs and tomatoes.
Steve swallowed his nerves and told himself there was no longer any room for error. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said politely but firmly into the mic, ignoring the yolk messing with his eyesight and the red dripping down his hair. The crowd, easily a mob of thousands, surrounding the rogues as they came out of the airport, stirred but stilled to hear his words. “I understand and sympathize with your anger. There have been mistakes-”
The girl in the front screamed at him. “Was almost killing Dr Stark in Siberia a mistake?”
Someone else yelled. “Was dropping a jet bridge on our Spidey a mistake?”
Someone from behind yelled even louder. “I am about to fucking make a mistake right now, just watch-” His voice was drowned by a loud chorus of supporting yells, the crowd surging to agitation once again, worse even than the last time.
Wanda whimpered from behind Steve as she hugged herself for comfort. Even at her best, her powers were far from enough to handle this big a crowd. And the fact that those powers had slowly started diminishing instead of growing made her feel even more insecure.
A loud whistle brought the attention of the crowd away from murder, which many of them had seriously been contemplating at this point.
“It’s Spidey!” A little girl squealed to her mother. There were many shouts of ‘Spider-Man! Spider-man!’ and the angry girl in front of them looked at Spidey and even smiled!
Spidey wasn’t wearing his mask or even his Spider-Man outfit, dressed instead in a simple button-down with a pair of fancy pants. His cane clacked a little as he walked, and even with it in hand, he was limping considerably. The crowd, now much more pleasant, waited very patiently for Peter Parker, yes, that was the name, to climb up.
“Hey guys,” he waved to the crowd. His arm was still blackened from the power backlash of using the infinity stones. His smile looked tight and exhausted.
The doctors had publicly admitted that very first night after the battle to the crowd gathered outside SI that they didn’t believe he could survive. When he lived through the first week, they said he would probably be a vegetable forever. Nobody could have, even in their wildest dreams imagined he would be able to walk and talk again. Tony, he had seen, had cried tears of actual joy on live TV when he had unexpectedly gotten the news that Peter had woken up when he was in the middle of an interview. It had, not unsurprisingly, gone viral.
“I thank you all for your patience and support through all the difficult times.” Peter glanced at the Rogues and ducked down his head to hide a smile as he saw their makeover. Not very successfully, Steve thought in dismay. How were they supposed to collaborate with their teammates undermining them in public?!
Still, he gritted his teeth as Peter requested their time and patience, hoping for a better team and a stronger defence. When Steve had requested the same, they had thrown eggs at him. When Peter asked, they cheered and whooped and a little girl tearfully parted with her Spider-Man plushie with the kid’s mother worshipfully thanking the kid, stars in her own eyes.
Peter smiled tiredly and asked for some space to sit down in the car. A guy with twice the kid’s height and weight easily supported him to the car, even as the kid blushingly protested and thanked him in equal measure. Realizing this was their cue, the Rogues legged it after the kid before the crowd remembered their anger once again.
The three cars peeled out of the airport in quick succession.
With Peter in the car, not a single person hurled obscenities at their vehicle. When they had been leaving Wakanda, one of the children there had spat at their car before her parents could pull them back. The crowd there hadn’t regretted it, even when one of them had managed a sullen apology on behalf of the child. The people here seemed like they would regret bigger infractions even less than the Wakandians had.
“So, Peter,” Steve said, silently applauding himself for snagging a seat next to the kid, with Natasha next to him. While Tony was now at the very top of the pyramid for what was left of the Avengers’ Initiative, the kid was not that far below. And public opinion had him at No. 1 for sure.
When Thanos, the Mad Titan had come calling, it had been a handful of people, led by Iron-Man, and managed by Spider-Man who had fought them on even turf. The damage had been immense. Before the Snap could take place, 5 million people were already dead in the destruction. When Thanos had managed to wrestle control of the Stones for a moment, he had killed billions more.
The fight had lasted for a few more weeks before Spider-Man (dramatically de-masked as Peter Parker on the battlefield) and Iron-Man had won by tricking one of his lieutenants and stealing the stones back. Apparently there had been two of Spidey and Tony on the battlefield, and there was something about a Time Heist… Not exactly something the world understood.
What they did understand was this: over 10 million people were dead, many more displaced and missing. What they did understand was this: when a threat had come, for all their talks of being on the public’s side, neither the Rogues nor the Accords had come to help. It was Dr Stark and his technology which had fought for them, and his money which was funding the repairs. And it was Peter Parker and his ragtag of vigilantes who had all fought and bled and even died for this cause.
Which meant, that Steve needed to talk to Peter.
“So, kid,” Steve said, clearing his throat.
Peter looked up from where he had his head buried in a StarkPad. Those tousled curls and the peek of brown eyes from within reminded him so much of Tony for a second that his heart clenched.
“Yeah?” The kid drawled out impatiently when Steve just stared for a second.
“I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”
“We are talking,” Peter groused, looking unimpressed with Steve’s own attempt to look unimpressed. Steve resisted the urge to groan. He didn’t know how to deal with small animals, kids and teenagers. Peter seemed like an odd mix of all three, from what he had seen of his personality on camera, with a sprinkle of Tony’s attitude garnished on top.
Steve sighed. “Peter, I understand you are new to this-”
“Woah, Mr Rogers-”
“It’s Captain, kid. Or you can call me Steve if you want.”
Peter raised an eye challengingly. “Is the military suddenly not court-martialing for desertion or is it perhaps because it was a token title in the War?”
Steve’s temper flared. This kid had no idea, none at all, what he had gone through just to get into the military and get the chance to serve his country. And to sit here and have a little pint-sized kid tell him he wasn’t a real Captain-
“I have bled and suffered for this country, kid,” he said softly, but menacingly. Something like guilt flashed in the kid’s eyes but before it could actually evolve into an apology, Steve, rather obliviously, went on. “All kids like you can do is sit in your air-conditioned rooms and watch movies on your fancy gadgets and judge us heroes for serving so that people like you can live happy lives.”
Peter leaned back into his seat, guilt assuaged, eyes hooded like a predator and mouth curled in a vicious smile. His voice was softer and sweet. “Of course, Captain . I particularly loved that one movie about this purple grape who was just mad about his collection of stones.” Peter looked down pointedly. “So exciting that I fell off the couch and hurt my, well, everything.”
Steve closed his eyes momentarily, chiding his lack of control and filter, said weakly, “I didn’t mean it like that-”
Peter went on, as if he hadn’t heard the weak protests, this time more seriously. “Captain, I apologise for baiting you unnecessarily when we are supposed to be mending bridges. But, god, just look at you,” he eyed the man in front of him pityingly. Steve flushed, self-conscious without knowing why.
“You broke up a perfectly good team for a friend who had killed thousands which led to power gaps and left the world in shambles when the first threat came knocking. For a friend, who abandoned you the day he woke up in his right mind because he was horrified by what you had done for him. You convinced your teammates to abandon their families, and Laura is filing for divorce, and Ant-Man isn’t allowed to meet his own daughter anymore.
Your co-team-leader hates even the sight of you, the public throws rotten eggs at you. The country that gave you sanctuary has been blacklisted from trades all over the globe, and it doesn’t matter how advanced your country is if every other country hates the sight of you, would rather starve to death than borrow from you. Your fights in several countries led to deaths of tens of innocents, and here I sit before you, a literal kid by your definition, who had to stand up and fight in your stead and got so injured they didn’t think I would ever wake up! And here you sit in front of me, a 100-year old man-child who just. Does. Not. Care.”
Steve tried to look at himself the way this kid looked at him. A drop of tomato dripped off his hair and into his lap. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment. The kid shook his head in disgust and turned back to his Pad. “Maybe if you had watched a movie instead, you would have ruined lesser lives. Take a few lessons from the kids, Cap. Learn a thing or two. Like humility. And good movies.”
The car jerked to a stop, but before the kid could run off, Steve found his footing. “It wasn’t like that. It’s easy to judge when you don’t have all the facts.”
Peter blinked, but then folded his hands in his lap, Pad face down. “Tell me the facts then.”
Steve coughed awkwardly. “I didn’t think I would get this far.”
Peter smiled a little, to his surprise. He seemed to have been too angry before, but now, Steve could see it. Yeah, Peter was a real cute kid. Willing to set aside his anger to talk, but also unwilling to bury his feelings for the sake of the other person. For a brief second, he felt a moment of vicious pride for Tony.
You raised a good one, Tones.
Swallowing, Steve started slowly. “The time I was born in was very different from this one. Poverty, crime, hopelessness. The war when it came calling was almost better than the desolation we had seen before that. Finally, we had something to do. An actual enemy we could fight. People were drafted by thousands. Anybody who could fight was on the frontlines and there I was, this small, asthmatic, sickly child who was a burden on my country’s resources.”
When Steve looked up, he saw something like understanding in the kid’s face. No matter the time or era, some human emotions were just universal.
“So you signed up for a highly experimental drug trial,” Peter smirked.
Steve shrugged sheepishly. “I figured it couldn’t get worse. I was already a sick child. Even if I died, it didn’t feel like a loss.”
Peter arched an eyebrow. “I am sure it would have felt like a loss to your best friend. Bucky, wasn’t it?”
“No, it wouldn’t. He would have been fine,” Steve said dismissively. “He had a bright future and was a real good soldier. Anyway, I finally felt like I had a purpose. A reason to live. A chance to make a difference. Hell, I figured I could finally go out in a blaze of glory.”
“But it wasn’t that easy.”
“No,” Steve agreed sadly. “When I woke up, the world had already changed, moved on so far I couldn’t even dream of keeping up. But there was a threat, and there was one thing I knew how to do.”
“Fight in a war,” Peter murmured thoughtfully.
Steve tipped his head in acknowledgement. “When I saw that Bucky was alive, that there was a chance for him to come back to me, I had to take it. And you know what, with everything I just told you, I feel surer than ever that I did the right thing. My conscience is clear.”
Peter was looking out the blackened window contemplatively. The car door jerked open, and a driver Steve had never seen before stood there, holding it open for Peter on his side.
“You alright, mini-Boss?” The guy not so subtly glanced Steve’s way, then distastefully looked away. “Is it your leg again?”
Peter waved him away. “Just give me five minutes, Carlos. I’ll be right out.” Then he ruefully glanced down at his legs. “Maybe get my fancy crutches over though. I think I overdid it a little.”
“Of course, mini-Boss. I did warn you not to go out today. This job could have been delegated.” To someone way down the ladder, went unsaid.
“It’s alright, Carlos, I still needed to talk to the good Captain here. Give me five more.” Reluctant yet determined to obey, Carlos gently closed the car door.
Peter looked back at Steve, eyes still contemplative. “Do you know how many people died in the bridge collapse, Captain when you were busy protecting your best friend? 19 people were killed and 37 were injured. The youngest was 5 years old.”
Steve’s breath caught in his chest and he stared, wide-eyed at Peter, who looked back solemnly and did not scream ‘Got ya!’
“Her name was Carolina, and she had blonde hair and blue eyes like yours. And because everybody had told her that she looked like you since she was little, she thought you were just the coolest thing since sliced bread. She slept on your bedcovers and had your backpack and your plushie and when she was trapped there with her mom, she told her, it’s gonna be okay . Captain America will protect us. She never lost faith in you, Cap. And she died for that faith.”
Steve blinked, realising his eyes were burning. He twisted the skin on his thigh hard. He wouldn’t cry. He would not cry.
“The civilian you threw to get that motorbike you wanted? He landed right over a car in the middle of a highway. There was a 20-car pileup. He survived to be paralysed for life until he ate a bullet. He was the sole breadwinner for a family of five. I can tell you every story of every person I have ever come across on patrol, all the people I could have helped but didn’t. And I can tell you so many more stories about the charities and funds that me and Tony set up for the victims you left behind in your trail for justice.”
Peter looked back at a dry-eyed Steve and warred his sympathy with his righteous anger. “But hey, at least your conscience is clear, right, Captain? I am sure it is a huge consolation to everybody around.”
That said, he knocked on his window, just a couple taps, and there was Carlos, helping the kid out, crutches in hand, a couple of guard ready with a wheelchair, if needed at a polite distance. Steve let the door on Peter’s side close before he let his tears loose.