Work Text
Ode to the Fallen- Rewritten
I own nothing. I happily do so too because if I had control, the whole of the MCU would be screwed. Please enjoy!
—————————-Sam landed hard on the concrete as his left wing faltered and sparked but wasted no time in righting himself, muttering small curses. Over the light breeze he could hear a small thwip and two feet touching the ground, the figure silent and still behind him.Tense silence followed before the older man decided to break it.Falcon didn’t turn around as he spoke quietly, too quietly for anyone with regular hearing to understand fully, but more than loud enough for Peter. The teenager flinched when Sam spoke and he wisely kept his eyes cast downwards as he was addressed.He took a deep breath. “You nearly got me killed.” Sam started- his voice cool and calm.At the words Peter screwed his eyes shut and nodded to the ground, but Sam continued without acknowledging the movement.“You almost got yourself killed.” Now, a slight waver in Sam’s tone was present and it only continued to grow and he attempted to voice his emotions.Peter knew what was coming next and he braced himself.“But the thing that really just tips the iceberg of this whole thing, Spider-Man, is that you were one- ONE- mistake away from killing dozens of innocent, good people because you were too self-righteous to follow one goddam order!” At this Sam did turn around and Peter didn’t need to look up to know that he was royally screwed. Peter took a step back as his breath hitched, but he still did not make eye contact with his teammate.The realization that they were now safe, away from danger and away from near death didn’t sooth the Avenger, in fact, it only made him angrier to see the man in front of him, eyes cast downwards like the coward he is, take a step back from him now as if he was a threat. God forbid Spider-Man backs away from anything during a fight, but now has no issue doing so from his own teammate.A new found anger rose in Sam and he scoffed, “Pathetic.”Sam’s silence now rung louder than any of the words expressed from the man and Peter halted his breathing. Mind racing, no other coherent or rational thoughts came to mind other than-“I know.”Sam snapped his head up, shocked by the sudden confession. Maybe he had misheard the hero. He took a step forwards, eyes narrowing in confusion.“What was that?”Peter’s face was one of great conflict as he debated sharing his thoughts. It didn’t seem to matter though anymore and after only a few seconds of internal battle, Peter finally looked up.Sam was taken aback when, even through the mask, he was able to see the grief radiating from the young man. Peter was thankful for his cover though, he knew what he must look like under the fabric with blood-shot eyes and his jaw clenched so tightly he could barely stand it. He took a breath and spoke again, this time louder, more purposeful.“I said I know.” This time it wasn’t just Peter’s breathing that faltered.Before Sam could breathe again, he continued, the eyes of the mask tightly shut. “I’ve always known, and now there’s someone else who knows it too.” Taking a forced breath, Peter debated on saying more, wanting to say more, but decided against it. Low chance Sam would care anyways.Peter sighed. He’d had enough of this day. Taking one last look at the cool blue glass of the Compound, Peter pressed his web slinger and was off, gone before Sam had a chance to process the pair’s conversation.Sam gaped like a fish as he tried to form a sentence.“...what...I- ugh!”The older Avenger groaned and spun around to face the entrance of the compound. His fists closed as he walked and hours worth of frustration, fear, and anger finally overflowed.Letting out another frustrated yell, Sam kicked the sidewalk so hard the nerves in his foot shot pain throughout his entire leg.Sam swore out loud at the pain, his frustration being replaced by pure, unadulterated anger.
Anger at Spider-Man, at himself, and at the world he was forced to live in. The stinging in his eyes caught the vet off guard and he stumbled, catching himself ungracefully.“Dammit.”The soldier stood straight and continued forwards, the thoughts and feelings of today threatening to overwhelm the man before he even made it to his room. As FRIDAY was made aware of his presence, the compound doors opened with a whoosh and Sam stepped in, closing his eyes as he breathed in the cool air.Not a moment later his eyes opened once again and Sam struggled over to the elevator, allowing FRI to take control of his destination. After felt like a twenty minute ride that was in reality not even thirty seconds, Sam was in his quarters, falling over onto the red leather couch, and gone from the world. ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ Peter could feel the tell tale sign of moisture threatening to spill from his eyes and he knew his nose was being to run a little bit. Sniffing, Peter tried to pull himself together enough to make it home. The Spider-Man mask was a bitch to hand wash and there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to take his dirty snot laundry to Tony for cleaning.Peter nearly grinned at the thought of his hero and mentor finding out what substances dirtied the cloth.Nearly.Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Peter kept on swinging without much thought as to where he was headed- it was muscle memory by now. It wasn’t long of this, however, before Peter could make sight of his street and where relief normally took over at the thought of his childhood bed, dread filled his entire being.Because in the distance, bright blue and red lights lit up his entire apartment complex, and if Peter really strained his enhanced senses, he could see a neon yellow stretcher being hurriedly pushed out of a building, a still body lying on top. ——————————
Alright kiddies, I’m back. I don’t know for how long or how little but I’m here. So enjoy my too many commas, grammar mistakes, and character cringe as you can get because I’m not sure how long it will last. Ofc- this should go without saying- the more support I get, the more inclined I am to write.
Support may include the following: liking, sharing, COMMENTING, bookmarking, the works.
Side effects of supporting may include but are not limited to: feeling good that you’re helping a humble author, happiness over a completed story for once in your life, awe at how good or bad the writing is depending on who you are, etc.
ALSO VERY IMPORTANT!! - I want to note for those of you that patiently waited on more chapters on the original of this fic on ao3, it’s actually posted on .net under the same name and same author name. Please check it out. Not my best work but that’s what this is for right?
Right.
Cool ok byeeee.
-moi
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Peter held his breath as he phoned his apartment, watching from a distance and praying for someone to pick up.
“
This is May Parker, I’m sorry- Peter no, stop- put that down!”
, May’s frantic voice spewed the last part of the message, “
I’ll call you back as soon as I can! Peter-!”
The message ended just like that and Peter’s anxiety doubled. Why wasn’t May picking up the phone?
Peter pressed 1 again. “
This is May Parker-“
Peter flipped the phone closed and sighed. He hadn’t wanted to change out of the suit before going back, but that’s exactly what was going to happen. He needed to make sure that May was ok without being seen as Spider-Man. Peter jumped down to his favorite secluded alleyway and found his backpack still webbed to the side of the dumpster, untouched. Bless whoever ensured that small miracle.
Peter got right to changing.
Since the suit was a product of Stark Industries, it took Peter all but thirty seconds to pull off and put away. It took another two minutes, however, for him to put on his civiles that he had stored in the bag. Two minutes too long in Peter’s opinion.
Groaning in frustration, the teen aborted attempting to tie his shoes and took off running, staying closer to the shadows so he wouldn’t be spotted going just the tinsiest bit faster than even an Olympian was physically able.
It took all but a few seconds of sprinting at 40 mph that Peter learned the hard way what those laces actually did.
As he stepped on the lace of his other shoe, Peter felt his whole body pitch forward and before he even knew what was happening, his face made contact with the cold sidewalk.
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Sam Wilson woke up with one hell of a neck pain, and it took him .2 seconds to figure out why. After soldiering in Afghanistan for as long as he did, Sam was used to body pains as a result of a rough nights sleep. Reaching up to run his neck, Sam’s hand froze as it came into contact with metal.
“Oh you’ve got to be
shitting
me.”
Sam looked over at his glowing red alarm clock and sighed. 4 am. He mentally congratulated himself for getting a total of one hour of sleep after an already rough night. Unfortunately, there was no way Sam would be able to go back to sleep in his full suit when he was used to waking up about as early. Grumbling to an empty room, The Falcon stood up from the couch slowly before making his way to his forgotten bedroom. Quickly dropping the EXO-7 Falcon suit, Sam walked over to his bathroom to piss and take a long overdo shower. After relieving himself and flushing, Sam turned to strip completely but stopped when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Tenderly, Sam brought his calloused hand to the dried blood on his face, gently prodding to feel for any wounds underneath. When no pain signaled it’s existence, Sam let his arm drop back to his side. He looked as exhausted as he felt and without wanting to view any more of himself, Sam hurriedly pulled down the suit undergarments and stepped in the shower. He turned the nob to the perfect spot through muscle memory and allowed the hot water to scald his tense body, looking up into the shower head with his eyes closed in content. After a moment of this, Sam forced himself to actually bathe, and he reached for the shampoo bottle. As he lathered what little hair he had with it, Sam asked FRIDAY for today’s weather.
“
Good morning Sam, you’re up early! The weather today will be a high of 67 degrees, and showers can be expected throughout the day.
” Sam nodded tiredly- he honestly wouldn’t mind an excuse to stay home by himself today- when FRIDAY spoke again.
“
Would you like me to inform the other occupants that you are awake?
”
Sam raised an eyebrow at the question. It was extremely early, but considering who his “roommates” were, it didn’t completely surprise the soldier. He considered this for a moment before replying with his own question. “Who‘s all here?”
The AI responded immediately, “
James Barnes, Ms. Romanoff, and Dr. Banner are all currently in the compound, but Boss is expected to be in later today as well.”
Sam smiled a little then and looked up out of habit, even though he knew FRIDAY didn’t have any cameras in his shower. “Yeah you can tell them, thanks Fri.” She replied with a short “my pleasure” and then she was gone. Sam felt his smile begin to slip when the white noise of running water was the only sound, making the bathroom feel as empty and lonely as he felt. The familiar feeling of weariness grew in his chest and Sam tried to distract himself by humming an old military tune. Getting lost in the familiarity of the words, Sam didn’t even realize he had completely finished washing until the last swirl of brown, red, and clear water went down the drain and it sputtered. He turned the nob back the other way before stepping out. Feeling clean for the first time in days, Sam absentmindedly groped for the towel rack before grabbing and fastening the blue cloth around his waste. He grabbed his dirty clothes and deposited them in the hamper before exiting the steamy bathroom and relishing in the crisp air of his bedroom. Sam got to dressing in a pair of jeans and his favorite sweatshirt before heading out to the elevator for FRIDAY to take him to the Avengers common room. Time to face the music. The elevator dinged open and Sam stepped out into the familiar setting, thanking FRIDAY. Before he could even reach the couch, however, Bucky and Nat were walking up to him, calling out a small greeting. “Morning Buck, Nat.” Sam smiled at the pair and they smiled back. Natasha smirked slightly as she spoke. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be awake?” Sam scoffed, an edge to it that caught the attention of the other soldier in the room. Bucky nudged his shoulder. “You okay man?”Sam hadn’t let himself think about that very question all morning, and he wasn’t going to start now. Looking at a weary Bucky and a calculating Natasha, he half answered. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He turned away from them and headed into the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring at the contents, not actually hungry for anything. He could feel the shared look between the pair as they approached him slowly. Bucky hesitated before he spoke. “We know what happened, Sam. We know the kind of toll it can take on people.” Sam slowly shut the fridge, his knuckles white against the cool steel of the appliance. “I’m not hurt. Not one got hurt.” The soldier seemed as though he was trying to convince himself more than his teammates. Natasha spoke this time, her voice steady and knowing. “You know what we mean Sam. Mental health is just as important as physical- and it’s more vulnerable.” Sam did indeed know what she meant but still he pushed her away, a sense of finality in his tone. “My mental health is fine. I survived war, I think I can handle a mission gone sideways.”He walked through the two heroes, avoiding eye contact, and went to sit on the couch, rubbing his temples. It was a mistake coming down here. He should have gone for a run or stayed in his room.
You wanted someone to ask. You knew they would.
Sam shook his head and turned on the TV, the only news channel that aired at such an ungodly playing in the background of the hero’s thoughts. Sam hadn’t registered a word the news anchor had said until his own name was mentioned.
“
During yesterday’s battle there were no recorded casualties among civilians, but you can see the exact moment where Avengers Falcon and Spider-Man nearly dropped a building on top of a daycare full of scared bystanders and children-
“ The screen turned black as she was cut off and Sam looked up to see Bucky holding the remote, a solemn look on his face.
The ex assassin looked queasy as he spoke carefully. “Sam...that wasn’t your fault.” The man in question stood and turned to leave, ignoring the words and not looking his friend in the eye. Bucky called after him but Sam was already in the elevator, asking FRIDAY to take him to his room. “Sam! Dammit!” Bucky slammed his fist into the wall, the surface caving to his super strength. With only a small feeling of guilt at the damage, Bucky turned to face Nat.
They shared a grim look. This was going to be a hard one to fix.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
Peter groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground, blood already leaking from several areas of his face and arms. Standing shakily Peter looked around and realized with a jolt he was only a few yards from his apartment. His eyes widened as he recalled the reason for his spill. “Aunt May...” Peter whispered. He stood up, reaching for the offending footwear before discarding them. He had other pairs anyways.Running in only socks wasn’t very comfortable, but he was close and his aunt was the only thing Peter could really think about at the moment. Realistically, Peter knew the chances were low of May being the body he saw- it could have been anybody in the complex- but the small pestering feeling resembled his spidey-sense too closely to ignore. After another few seconds of running, Peter was standing in front of a closed ambulance, it’s lights now off and the driver opening the door to leave. “Hey- wait!” Peter called out to the woman. She turned to look at the disheveled teen, hair wild, face bloodied with multiple scratches. He had on no shoes and his socks were noticeably worn. His blue sweatshirt was on backwards and a pained look he wore made the child appear even younger.Stepping off the side of the ambulance she called back, worry evident in her tone. “You okay kid?” Peter nodded, thankful she hadn’t left before remembering the state he must be in. He reddened, looking down at his feet before answering. “Um yeah. I just saw the ambulance and my aunt wasn’t answering her cell and I live here but then I fell and I was worried you were going to leave and I’m sure it’s not her but-“ Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder.
Peter looked up and the women gently squeezed his arm, smiling warmly at him. Her voice was rich and smooth when she spoke. “Alright kid, what’s your aunt’s name?”
He looked up and gave a timid smile back, not wanting to be rude but also too worried to care at this point. “May. May Parker.”
The world suddenly went very quiet.
Peter didn’t have to be told who was under that sheet when her eyes glanced unconsciously towards the ambulance and her lips pursed tightly. When she looked back down at him, she knew that he understood. Closing her eyes she let out a breath and put an arm around Peter. “Why don’t you come with me?”
Peter’s thoughts suddenly stopped and his feet planted themselves firmly on the ground. White noise filled his head and he stared blankly at the back of the ambulance.
The woman let his arm go but cleared her throat gently and repeated herself, making direct eye contact with Peter and pulling his focus towards her.
A tightness in his throat caught Peter off guard and he struggled to get his thoughts in order. He quickly stammered out, “Oh I’m sorry. Wh-why do I need to go with you ma’am?”
She looked at him for a long moment, concern glazing her features, and she softened at the innocence of the young man. Knowing she had to get the body back soon, she spoke uncertainly and slowly, trying to be clear. “What’s your name kid?” Peter looked at her for a second, thoughts trying to form an answer for him. The word was finally able to form and he spat it out before it had the chance to leave him again. “Peter!” The paramedic looked startled at the outburst and Peter reddened again, speaking softer this time, the emotion loosening his tongue. “Peter, ma’am. Peter Parker.” The women nodded and then a genuine, kind smile graced her features. “I have a nephew named Peter, he’s a little younger than you though.” She spoke solidly, her voice bringing the teen back to reality. “He’s a big Star Wars geek. You like those movies?” Peter nodded, but something was nagging him in the back of his mind. Something told him to focus on what was happening and not to allow his brain to distance itself further. A vehicle door opened and a man stepped out, dressed similarly to the women. A shared look between the two and he was back in the truck, door shutting quietly. “Hey Peter.” He looked back towards her from where the man had been. Noticing that she had his attention, her kind smile lessened a little as she spoke again. “Do you have any other family that you could call?”
Peter shook minutely as he nodded and pulled out his cellphone. Scrolling through his contacts, Peter’s thumb hovered over ‘
The Godfather
’. He wanted to call his mentor, really he did, but knew there was a chance Tony would actually pick up and something registered in his mind that if he said the words out loud that it would make it real. That Peter wouldn’t wake up tomorrow in his bed with the smell of May’s terrible home cooking on the stove.
His finger hovered a second longer before continuing to scroll past the name. The billionaire probably didn’t want to deal with a child right now anyways. He was probably with Pepper, asleep, or in his workshop too busy to be bothered with personal issues from an intern. Nearing closer to the bottom, Peter froze when Sam’s contact came into view. All of the night’s events came rushing back to Peter and something shifted in his brain. He flipped the cell down and looked back up at the lady, scowling slightly. “No. There’s no one.” She nodded solemnly and Peter allowed her to take him by the shoulder. She spoke as she walked. “You can come with us for now, we’ll sort everything else out later.”Something dark stirred in Peter and he thanked her, letting her pull him into the vehicle and shut the door. The feeling loomed over him and Peter knew full well what it was. This wasn’t Peter’s first rodeo but he knew now, as a deep weariness crept up him, that it would probably be his last.
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YEET. Hope that wasn’t too bad. Not exactly the direction I thought I’d take but I’m like oddly okay with it. Not the writing per say but like the fact that I can’t do anything about it. It was a little dramatic and I’m not good at the internal thought side of writing so i tried something new but I know it’s still not great. I’ll gladly take pointers on stuff like that or just stuff in general. Anyways give this a like and a comment. A comment really goes a long way- doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just say hi. Anyways. Keep safe out there babies. Love you alllllll!
-my lovely self
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Peter was helped out of the ambulance by the woman- Peter found out her name was Beck- and led into the hospital, following behind the covered stretcher. Peter hovered, unsure of what to do with his hands as emotion threatened to spill over. He hates hospitals. Needing something to do, Peter grabbed hold of his phone and checked for any messages. When he saw there was none, something akin to disappointment fueled the emotions he was desperately trying to hold back. It died down slightly when Peter saw the time to be nearly 5 am. Of course no one had texted him this early in the morning. Five am. Nearly two hours after his exchange with Sam, meaning Peter hadn’t slept in nearly 24 hours- an extraordinary feat considering his very being required high amounts of sleep and food. The thought of eating, however, made Peter nauseous and bone-deep exhaustion began to weigh on him as the teen’s body allowed itself to feel the effects of being awake for so long. Peter tiredly shoved his phone back into his pocket and gave a small hop to adjust his backpack so that it wasn’t about to slip off, sighing as he wondered was was going to happen to him next.“Do you want to see her?” A voice spoke up softly from behind the teen. Peter turned around, only slightly startled at the sudden presence. Beck stood there, the same gentle smile gracing her lips just as it had before. She waited patiently as Peter considered her offer. Of course he wanted to see her. He wanted to walk into his apartment and see her standing there, making fun of his pubescent acne-covered face. He wanted to see her mock the new method of solving math equations. “Back when I was in high school, things weren’t so complicated you know...” Peter wanted her to lecture him about falling off gym equipment, even when they both knew a gym mat couldn’t give Peter the black eye he was sporting now. Peter wanted to have sneak her eyeshadow from her purse just to make his black eye seem as if it was still there, even when it had faded the same day. He wanted to tell her everything she didn’t know- about who he was, about Spider-Man and Tony and how he felt when Sam told him he wasn’t worthy enough to be a hero. But as much as Peter would give to see her one last time, he would never want to see her without her trademark sparkling brown eyes, rosey cheeks, and white smile. And so Peter looked up at Beck, his eyes bright with tears as he choked out the hardest thing he’ll ever have to say. “No. No, thank you.” Beck nodded, seeming to understand his reasoning and with a wave of her hand, his aunt was gone. Peter felt tears well up once again at the thought. And this time it has been his decision. He never even got to say goodbye. Peter felt sick.Must having noticed Peter’s expression, the other paramedic from earlier called out to him and gestured for Peter to go come where he was sitting. Peter sniffed and hurriedly wiped his eyes. He hesitantly walked over and the man smiled as Peter neared, patting a hand down on the blue cushioned seat next to him. Peter sat, his navy backpack still held tightly and on his lap. He hadn’t allowed anyone to hold it for him since they left his apartment complex and although no one else knew, Peter’s sticky grip wouldn’t allow them to. He shifted to his left a little to get more comfortable before giving the man his attention. The paramedic had light brown eyes and dirty blonde hair and his skin was pale but tight with muscle. He wasn’t very old, around 23 or so, and Peter couldn’t help but think that they could have been related with their shared features. It lessened the tension in Peter’s shoulders.“Hey, it’s Peter right?” The man asked, knowing full well that his name was in fact Peter. The teen nodded but didn’t speak. This didn’t seem to bother the man at all, who’s face just lit up at the confirmation. He adjusted to turn his body towards Peter more fully. “That’s great! My name is David, but after hearing my mom yell it at me my whole life I prefer Dave. Beck over there, however,” Dave nodded his head in the woman’s general direction, “Calls me Davey.” Peter gave Dave a small incredulous smile, baffled at the previously silent man’s endless blubbering. Dave must have noticed Peter’s expression because he reddened a little and chuckled. “Sorry, I always was a talker.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly and Peter found himself with a more genuine smile this time.“It’s okay, I’m usually that way too. Just not right now with...everything...” Peter flapped his hands uselessly as if to gesture to the whole hospital. He turned back to Dave and decided that he could talk for a little bit to try and keep distracted. “Actually...I have this mentor kind of thing and he’s great really, but he says I talk wayyyyy to much.” Peter smiled at the thought of Tony’s fond ‘Do you ever shut up?’ Peter continued, “I secretly think he likes it though. And if he gets really into a topic, he talks arguably more than me.” Dave beamed at Peter, happy the kid was opening up to him.As Peter babbled, Dave never once interrupted him, only adding in short confirmations or questions if Peter left something out. Before he knew it, Peter was telling Dave about Sam (in lesser words). “But there’s this guy.” His smile faltered and the rapidness at which he had been talking slowed. Dave took note of this and worry lined his forehead.“He’s...I work with him.” Peter struggled to find the words to explain his situation. “We were working on a a project together and he’s been there for a lot longer than me so I wanted to try and prove myself...I didn’t follow his ord- instructions and people almost got hurt.” Peter looked up at Dave, worried the man would laugh and brush off his mistake, or worse, lecture him on it. But Dave just shot him a knowing smile and nodded his head for Peter to continue. The teen rubbed his hands together nervously. “He- I knew what I did was wrong, but in the moment I thought it was the right call. He really let me have it when we were finished.” Peter swallowed the lump in his throat down. “And then I got home and-“ Tears welled in his eyes as the imagine of his aunt under a white sheet flashed before them. Dave laid a supportive hand on his shoulder. “And now she’s-“ Peter let out a choked sob and the tears started to roll down his puffy face. “There’s no one left.” In the moment Peter didn’t care where he was or who saw him. His previous worries of appearing weak dissipated as years of torment and loss were uncapped, wreaking havoc on the teen. Peter allowed himself to be held by Dave as he sobbed into the paramedic’s chest. The numbness that had shielded Peter from reality was now gone and he was left with nothing but pure, unadulterated pain. Dave rubbed knowing circles into Peter’s back as he cried so hard he began to cough and gag. “Peter...you need to calm down or you’re going to throw up.” Dave whispered. But Peter didn’t hear him. He could only think one thing. They were gone. And it was all his fault. The realization hit Peter like a ton of bricks and his cries only grew more intense, Peter now bright red and choking on the lack of air. Peter couldn’t breathe as he gagged and suddenly he was being grabbed around the waist and pulled onto the cold tile, a bucket placed under the teens nose just in time. He flipped himself over into all fours. Tears blurred his vision and his body convulsed as he dry heaved, his own tongue seemingly trying to kill him. After the pain of trying to expel nothing, bile rose from his stomach, hot with acid, burning his throat raw. It came out his nose just as soon and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe he can’t breathe icantbreathe. Something cool was forced into his hand and as he finished wretching, Peter tried to take in a deep breath. His whole body was shaking as muscles Peter didn’t even know he had began to untense. Peter only ended up coughing though as he inhaled leftover chunks, choosing instead to spit up the rest of it. Pools of sweat dripped down his face as he was turned over by gentle hands, the back of his head now resting against the chair’s cushion. A cool piece of cloth was held to his head and Peter closed his eyes, attempting to take in fresh oxygen as a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks. He was hot, too hot and Peter semi-consciously tugged on his hoodie sleeves.Someone must have noticed as they were soon rolled up, giving the teen a small relief. There was water in his hand, he realized, and Peter wasted no time in forcing the lid off and chugging the whole bottle. Although it helped soothe his throat, the water only added to the bitter taste of the acidic bile and Peter nearly gagged again. Hands shoved a tissue in front of his face and Peter took it, eyes screwed shut as he blew some more of the substance from his nose. When he was finished, Peter turned to lay on the floor, the tile a biting cold against his heated cheeks. Breathing deeply for over a minute, Peter was finally able to return his breath to a normal speed. Looking up for the first time at his surroundings Peter was surprised to see several hovering nurses being blocked by a figure standing near him, the rag from earlier in their hand.It was Dave, Peter realized. Said man looked down at Peter, “You alright Kid?” Peter didn’t know what to say, opting instead for a nod and a small, insincere smile. The teen stood, placing most of his weight in his shaky arms (he was going to be sore later for sure), and looked cautiously at the scene before him. Why wasn’t Dave letting the nurses near him?Said man seemed to understand his confusion as he coughed and pointedly stared at a spot on the ground. Peter followed his gaze. Oh. Oh.Dave wasn’t keeping the nurses from helping Peter... he was helping hide him because on the ground where Peter had laid was a small cluster of webs. Peter panicked, eyes widening as he desperately pulled at them, finally freeing them from the flooring. Peter did his best to stick them into his hoodie pocket before clapping the rest in between his closed hands. “I- I have to go.” Peter grabbed his backpack from where it had fallen next to him and moved to walk away from the startled nurses. Dave reached out to stop him but Peter was faster. Before the paramedic could even utter a word of protest, the teen was gone out the sliding doors. Without a second thought to the mess on the floor, Dave was on Peter’s trail, yelling back a snap apology to the staff. Not even sure if his superior was in the same room, Dave shouted, “I’ll be back, Beck!” ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔAfter Sam’s run in with Bucky and Natasha, the soldier decided against both going for a jog or holing up in his room. He opted instead for the most calming and sensational activity instead- flying. It didn’t take him but a few minutes to suit up and then he was off, soaring over the familiar city where his worries could finally melt away. Sam flew around the entire city, dropping lower occasionally, but choosing to stay high above the city’s buildings, looking at his surroundings and people watching. Although it was late, it was still New York and people were bustling to and fro nearly as much as they do in the daytime, giving the ex-soldier plenty to focus on. Having been out for nearly an hour, Sam decided it was time to head back to the tower to try and correct his utterly screwed sleep schedule. He turned mid flight back in the direction he came, still scanning the city when he passed by one of New York’s taller and more famously known building. Sam took in the architecture with keen eyes, finding beauty in the simplicity of the design. Perhaps it was this very specific attention to detail that Sam was even able to make out a shape that wasn’t glass or steel. Focusing his goggles, Sam was able to spy a person on top of the building, their legs dangling off the side of it, completely still. Little warning bells went off in Sam’s head as he took in the sight, circling back around to get a better view of the figure. As much as Sam selfishly didn’t want the person to be doing what was obvious (he was tired), the ex-soldier knew it well. It was no secret that Sam spends his free days volunteering at a suicide hotline center, taking on a relentless job with no thanks (but what else is new). At Sam dropped lower toward the building, the bright lights of the city gave the man enough light to make out a mop of brown curls resting atop a smallish figure. Sam’s heart clenched as he realized the person was most likely a teen. As he neared closer, Sam’s suit shut off and he landed nearly silently behind the figure, his years of suicide prevention training already giving him a plan on how to act with the supposed kid. As quietly as he had landed, the person whipped around to face him almost immediately, his wide, doey eyes going straight to Sam’s cautions ones. His heart dropped when his suspicions proved to be true- the person was a teen, a young one by the looks of him- and judging from the boy’s firm grip loosening just slightly, he recognized Sam. This was tuning out to be one hell of a night after all.