Peter & Bucky Are Pals

Chapter 36

On Monday morning, Peter jerked awake so early it was still dark outside, clawing at his throat. He choked on his first panicked breath, then his second before he managed to get a real lungful of air on his third try. He was shaking hard, still gasping; he couldn't even remember what he'd been dreaming about.

"Mr. Parker, would you like me to wake up Mr. Stark? Or Mrs. Potts?" JARVIS asked, and Peter shook his head.

"Don't wanna bother them," he managed, his voice barely there. "S' not that bad."

"I believe they've said many times that they don't mind," JARVIS told him politely.

"It's fine," Peter murmured. "But thanks."

"Your heart rate is still quite high," JARVIS pointed out.

Peter rested a hand on his pounding chest, trying to calm his breaths.

"Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers are awake, if company tempts you," JARVIS offered.

Peter stubbornly didn't answer, holding in air until it burned, but relented after a minute with a nod. "Can you... Can you tell them I'm coming down?"

"I'd be happy to." JARVIS sounded satisfied. If he wasn't so helpful, Peter might resent him for always being right, but it was impossible to resent JARVIS.

Peter dragged himself out of bed, wrapping himself up in his blankets and leaning on the bedpost for a moment as his head spun. His breathing was still unsteady. He stumbled a bit as he headed out of his room and towards the elevator. It was already waiting for him, and he sank to the tiled floor as he descended to Steve and Bucky's place. The door slid open after what felt like an hour and he staggered to his feet, shuffling towards the entrance to the apartment. Before he could knock, Steve unlocked the door and let him in.

"Bad night?" Steve asked, looking commiserative when Peter nodded. Peter noticed that he had deep, dark circles beneath his eyes.

He led Peter to the couch, where Bucky was looking intently focused on something he was writing. Peter sat down tentatively and Bucky's head snapped up, face softening at the sight of Peter, who was still shivering a little. Bucky carefully wrapped his metal arm around Peter's shoulders, tugging him closer before returning to his writing. Steve plopped down on Peter's other side, leaving a respectful few inches between their elbows. He didn't seem to want to make Peter feel trapped; Peter appreciated his thoughtfulness.

Peter glanced over at Bucky's writing before realizing that it was probably private and he shouldn't read it. Bucky seemed to notice, because the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Therapy homework."

"You get therapy homework?" Peter asked; he couldn't help but scrunch his nose a little.

Bucky let out a little huff. "When you're as fucked up as me you do."

Steve looked offended on Bucky's behalf, and Bucky waved a hand to shut him up before he could say anything.

"I'm allowed to call myself fucked up. It's only rude if someone else says it, pal. Calm down."

Steve muttered something that sounded like "don't tell me to calm down" and crossed his arms, looking vaguely grumpy and exhausted.