Superfamily One Shots

Scared

**My own idea!! Also, an update on things in the author's life, my brother surprised my parents by being like "I wanna get married in the backyard by the end of the month" so we have a billion things to do and I'm super busy with helping them, but I want to enter the Watty's so I'm going to be busting out the rest of the new book and put this on hold for a couple days. Anyways, enjoy!!**

Bucky wandered through the kitchen, looking for something to eat that wouldn't bee too loud to prepare. It was late, nearly 4 in the morning, but the man wasn't too hungry. He'd grown accustomed to late nights and all nighters - a harsh side-effect of both HYDRA and his work now as a superhero. And even before both of those lives, Bucky had been a soldier. Soldiers were supposed to be tough and indestructible and perfect. They rose with the sun and went down long after the sky was dark. They didn't talk about how little they slept because of the gun fire through the night.

The light from the refrigerator was just bright enough to illuminate the kitchen. Bucky tip-toed around the room slowly, making sure to avoid the few spots that creaked particularly bad.

He got out a bear claw and set it in the microwave. He perched over the counter, ready to stop the timer before it went off and sent an annoying bring!  through the penthouse.

Just a few seconds was enough to get it warmed and tasty.

Bucky turned his back to the counter and leaned on the edge, happily eating his pastry. He looked up and over at the living room, his eyes falling on a dark shadow on the couch. A lamp was barely on, at the lowest setting.

"Peter?"

The teen looked up  with a jolt. His face was pale and his eyes were blood-shot and empty.

"Peter, have you been up all night?"

Peter shook his head just a little. He blinked slowly, relishing the relief closing his eyes briefly brought him.

Bucky pushed himself off the counter and headed over to where Peter was sitting. He was still careful not to make too much noise, both because of everyone else who was sleeping, but also because Peter seemed a little out of sorts and jumpy.

"You okay, kid? You seem a little sleepy. A little jumpy."

Peter nodded slowly. "I can't sleep."

Bucky let out a huff and shook his head. "I can relate to that one. When I was in the war, I couldn't sleep more than a couple hours because of how loud everything was, and I got pretty used to it. I'm sure you'll bounce back soon, kid, the patrol schedule will even out and your body will-"

"It's not patrolling," Peter blurted out, a little blush sneaking up his cheeks when he cut off Bucky. Bucky waited for the teen to keep going, but he had a sinking feeling it was the same reason Bucky couldn't sleep after HYDRA.

"I see things." Peter took a shuddering breath, his words mostly air. "I see things I don't want to see and I can't stop them so I just never close my eyes." The teen had his eyes glued to his hands as he squirmed a little in his seat. He hated the idea that he was... Weak.

Bucky set a hand on Peter's back, ignoring the way Peter almost shrugged it off. "I understand that, too. When I first went into the service, I was just a kid. I thought war was like the games we played at school where everyone was doing the same things, playing by the same rules, but it wasn't like that at all. The first battalion I was in was stuck in some pretty nasty cross-hares a month into the deployment. We lost nearly 12 of our 30 boys, and another 15 went off to army evacs to be treated. I saw some terrible things that day, things that haunted me for years to come."

The penthouse was silent as Peter looked for something to say. Anything at all.

"I see my uncle. I see him dying in my arms, and he looks right at me, and he says 'you did this.' He says that and when I get up, there's blood on my hands and I can't get it off n o matter how hard I try. When I turn around-" A sob choked his words and he took a moment to regain control. "When I turn around, there's all these people I couldn't-couldn't save. I couldn't do anything and they're dead because of me and no matter- no matter how hard- hard I try. There-there-there'll always be something I could have done but I failed!"

Peter's words got eaten up by crying by the end, but Bucky knew what he was talking about. The man pulled Peter in for a hug, squeezing the teen into his side tightly and holding him close. Peter's hands grasped at Bucky's back, bunching his tee-shirt in tight fists as he wailed. Bucky thought briefly about everyone else waking up, but he knew that was... okay. This was more important that everyone else.

"Peter," Bucky said once the crying had died down a little. "Can you look at me?"

Peter looked up, his eyes red and wet and puffy.

"You are a superhero. By definition, that is anyone with a super-human power, not someone who saves every person every day. When you're a superhero, it's hard to not mix those two things up. You think that if you don't save everyone, you're wasting those powers- those gifts - that make you special. You think that because you didn't stop every bad thing, you're the cause of them. You aren't. Right now, you are Peter Parker, the kid who is too sweet to swat flies. Who spends hours every night watching out for the people no one else it looking out for. Who still gets up early to go to school and hang our with Ned before the first period. You're the most selfless, caring, kind people I know, Pete, and the actions of other people do no diminish that."

Peter hiccuped and dug his face back into Bucky's shoulder. "Thank you."

The two sat there in silence again, Bucky rubbing tight, comforting circles on Peter's back and Peter slowly relaxing.

When Tony found them in the morning, asleep on the couch, he took just a few hundred photos to blackmail Bucky with, and to frame in his office. It wasn't everyday Tony's adoptive son got comforted by his ex-killer HYDRA uncle.