enbytown



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    “I had scoliosis,” Peter whispered, not looking away from where they’d heard the metal snap. He had gone pale. Bucky was sure he was a few shades lighter, himself. “That’s… that’s what I was gonna say before."

    “Yeah?” Bucky asked. He loosened his grip on Peter’s shoulder, but didn’t take his hand away.

    “My back still hurts sometimes,” Peter explained quietly. “But that might be because of the swinging. Hard to find a strong enough chiropractor to crack it, you know? Maybe… maybe two thousand tons of concrete would do it, though.” Bucky leveled his gaze at the kid. Peter looked back at him, swallowing hard.

    “Let’s call that Plan B, okay?” Bucky suggested.

    “Yeah, okay,” Peter mumbled.

    ---

    Or, Peter gets caught in the collapse of a parking garage with a (mildly) concussed Bucky Barnes, and has a nice get-to-know-you sesh with our favorite super soldier while waiting for Tony to find a safe way get them out. Super chill, right? Everything's fine. Oh- and he's been impaled by two rods of rebar and can't move without risking bleeding out. That... complicates things.

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    16 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 93

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    “Shit,” Peter breathes, and he falls into another swing, ramming into two of the robots with his shoulder.

    “Shit?” Tony asks, loudly. “What shit? You need somebody? You need me?”

    Peter rolls in the air, scrambling to grab onto the robot and tear its stupid legs off.

    The ground rumbles again, and it sounds like an earthquake, and he knows they’re burrowing, the bigger ones, and thank God they got this whole fight started out here and not in Brooklyn like the bad guys were planning.

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    13 Jan 2026

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    (ENDGAME SPOILERS. BUT I'M CHANGING THINGS.)

    Tony worries his brain is misfiring, transporting him across time and space in one final insane journey. He swallows hard, and he hears those garbled voices again. He can’t make out words, or tone, or who the hell is talking, but somebody definitely is, and it sounds strangely like they’re underwater. Or he is.

    He grits his teeth and turns around, and before he can even begin to trudge over towards Peter’s room, he’s stopped in his tracks.

    By a door. In the middle. Of the living room. Straight up and down like a monolith, just beside the glass coffee table.

    Tony chews on his lower lip and stares at it. “Well that’s new,” he says, still rooted to the spot.

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    10 Jan 2026

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    “And I’ve lifted up buses!” Peter yells. “More than one bus! At a time! And I can juggle them too! So think about that! Keep that in mind! Juggle them with people in them! But I wouldn’t do that because that’s dangerous but I could do it easily, I’m very capable of that!”

    Tony can’t help it and he smiles to himself, glancing up at Peter again. He’s staring at the window and raising his eyebrows like he thinks he’s looking at somebody—and sure, he is, but not the person he thinks.

    “He’s hilarious,” Tony says, continuing to search for some kind of switch or latch to get the panel working again. Trying to stop getting distracted.

    “Yeah,” Rhodey says. “That’s the word for it.”

    “You’re not making fun of him,” Tony says, sliding his hands along the wall. “I hope that’s not what I’m hearing.”

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    08 Jan 2026

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    “Okay,” Peter says, and he grabs Tony’s wrist. “Okay but I’m actively escaping. At the moment. That’s what I’m doing, at the moment, and that’s what I’m doing. Right now.” He lets out a little huff. “So that’s what I’m doing.”

    “Yup,” Tony says. “A bang-up job.”

    “Thank you.”

    “You’re really killing it.”

    “I know.”

    Tony is nervous, because the kid is slurring and he’s severely loopy and that can only mean drugs. Were they to keep him docile? Were they to fucking experiment on him? Tony’s not in the suit anymore so he can’t see his heart rate but he knows it’s probably skyrocketing.

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    08 Jan 2026