Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-man (Tom Holland Movies)

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Characters: Peter Parker | Spider-man, Steve Rogers | Captain America, Tony Stark | Iron man, Sam Wilson | Falcon, Natasha Romanoff | Black Widow, Clint Barton | Hawkeye, James Rhodes | War Machine, Happy Hogan 

Tags: BAMF Peter Parker, Angry Peter Parker, Captain America Bashing, mentions of violence

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Brief Warning: this has mentions of violence and crime as well as implied canon-typical violence. furthermore, if you didn't already read the tags, there is slight Captain America Bashing / Team Cap Bashing. Personally, I have nothing against them, it's just what worked for the story. 

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Today had been a stressful day. First, he arrived 10 minutes late to first period because the subway was later than the schedule. Then Flash Thompson, bully extraordinaire, hit him around worse than usual. Maybe it had something to do with his parents refusing to buy him a new car which Peter kind of felt bad for or how Peter answered a question that Flash got wrong. Honestly, Flash just sort of always had bad moods because of reasons that Peter mostly did not have control over.

After that, his Chemistry teacher gave him detention next week for staring out of the window too long. Peter swears he would have listened to her discussion if he didn't already know the lesson. He learned all about the oxidation of aldehydes and ketones ages ago when he was lonely and had nothing to do. Sue him, he was bored out of his mind.

And after his day, one would think he couldn't have experienced more bad luck, right? Wrong! The universe decided to fuck with Peter even more by sending in a horde of flame-throwing, breakdancing robots. Peter couldn't believe it when Tony called. "Breakdancing robots?! Are you kidding?"

Over the phone, the Iron Man thrusters could be faintly heard. Obviously amused, Tony answered "No, Roo. They have disco lights and everythin - Shit! That was close. Katniss, Can you cover me? - So, you coming or what?"

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Which brings him to this moment. Currently, Peter was lamenting his bad luck - stupid parker luck! Why can't I just have one day that's normal? The breakdancing robots were trickier than one would expect.

Apparently, fighting a robot which fought using dance moves was hard because the attack patterns were weird but also he didn't know anything about dance aside from twerking and even that was debatable.

Towards the end, the robots were able to catch him by surprise and burn part of his mask off.

So, here he was, in Avengers' tower, facing a group of adults all sporting looks that ranged from mild disappointment to furious.

Staring at him for a minute, Clint said furiously with a look of extreme constipation, "Damn, kid! How old are you?"

Defensive, Peter tilted his chin up and said, "I'm nearly 16." Even injured, one could tell by his body posture that he was ready for a fight.

Hearing the scraping of a chair, Peter turned towards the sound. Steve Rogers had that face on. Not the I totally understand what you're going through face that Peter expected, since Mr. Rogers kind of signed up for the army at 15, but the I know better than you face he was sporting when Peter fought him in Germany. You know. Like a hypocrite.

"Son, you need to stop this business. You're too young."

"There are bad things out there, kid. There are twisted people that you would never be able to fathom. What happens when someone dies because of you? When you won't be able to turn to us or Tony for help?" Natasha added, her contempt evident.

Scowling, Peter brushes a hand through his chocolate brown hair trying to stop himself from walking out. He really did not need this right now. "You do know that I've been doing this for a while, right? You could stop discrediting and questioning my ability just because of my age, thanks."

By the opposite corner of the room, Mr. Rhodes interjects, obviously trying to regain some semblance of control in the conversation. "That's not what she meant, Pete -" but, Mr. Rogers continues to speak. "You're too young. You don't know what we heroes have to face in this business. She's right, kid. What happens when you can't save someone in time? What if -"

Yeah, no.

Zoning out, Peter thinks about the way the Avengers have been treating him. Aside from Tony, Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rhodes, they all treat him as someone lesser, always talking with a condescending lilt in their voices.

Peter wasn't an idiot. He knew the Rogues still didn't like Tony so, by proxy, they didn't like him too. Especially since he was able to subdue Falcon and Barnes in Leipzig. Mr. Wilson never really grew out of his grudge like Bucky did. Though, he did look like he was about to protest on his behalf at the moment.

Normally, he was fine with putting up with them for a few hours, but Peter had a bad day today and he really didn't want to be dealing with their condescension after helping them out this afternoon.

With a tilt of his head, Peter asked, "Mr. Rogers, I thought you of all people would understand the need to save? You signed up for the military when you were 15, right?"

"That was different, Peter. There was a war an-"

"What's the difference?"

Falling silent, Steve opened and closed his mouth, trying to find an answer. Peter thought he looked not unlike a gaping fish.

"Mr. Rogers, you have enhanced senses just like I do. You hear, see, feel, taste, smell better than most. Though I guess you could say we are different in a way: the intensity of those senses. You have reached the maximum potential a human is able to achieve but I, on the other hand, surpass your potential entirely because my DNA has mutated to become a spider. Do you know what that means, Mr. Rogers?"

Confused, Steve said "What's the difference? Isn't that just the same thin-"

"What that means, Mr. Rogers, is that my senses are better than yours. While you hear the interns 40 floors below us drinking coffee or turning screws, I hear the woman walking 6 blocks away, wearing stilettos and at this moment, sobbing because 5 blocks away from her current location, 15 minutes ago, her boyfriend broke up with her. 10 blocks away, I can hear a baby sniffling. 15 blocks away, I can hear the door to an apartment creak shut. You get my point?"

Peter could see a hint of realization in Mr. Wilson's eyes, but he didn't quite grasp where exactly Peter was heading. Continuing, he said "Now, imagine, Mr. Rogers. Imagine what it's like to live in Queens with enhanced senses like mine. Because not only can I hear the baby wailing 4 floors above my apartment, I can also hear a woman, 4 blocks away, begging for someone to save her because she's being raped."

"Even then, do you seriously think I haven't tried to quit? Haven't tried to ignore everything? You can't tell me that I don't know what it feels like to not save someone in time. This whole thing started when I stared into the lifeless eyes of my uncle. I saw him die for me, right within reach.

How can I, in good conscience, sit back and continue my homework or try to go to sleep like nothing was happening when I could hear, vividly, someone else being traumatized at that moment?"

Wanda looked like what he was trying to say finally dawned on her. Clint was clenching and unclenching his fists. Natasha looked away while Sam looked thoughtful.

"You're a war veteran. Don't get me wrong. The evils you see are scary. But you fight for a cause, the same way the people on the other side do too. You know, somehow, that those people you're fighting aren't entirely evil. They have families and friends, the same as you. You just happen to be on different sides."

"Me, on the other hand? Sure, I help grannies cross the street or get cats off of trees. I do do that. But I also happen to stop child trafficking rings in the middle of their operations with other fellow vigilantes. I've seen tortured children, sobbing for someone - anyone - only for them to be too late. I've fought off rapists, murderers. I've fought off truly evil people. The ones who take advantage of others purely out of enjoyment. The ones who do their crimes with no remorse."

Pausing, Peter looks at each of them with haunted eyes. "The evils I face may not be as big or as alien as the ones you do but they still are terrifying."

"You may think robberies aren't scary, but you don't see it the way I do; the way normal people do. What you see is a man taking money from the cash register, no big deal. What I see is a man pointing a gun at someone who works the midnight shift because that was the only job he could get, and he needs to provide for his family. What I see is someone with the power to kill and holds no remorse for his actions. And that? That makes him dangerous, terrifying."

The Avengers shift uneasily. Though Tony and Mr. Rhodes already understood the point he wanted to make, and the others were still slightly confused, they knew there was a deeper meaning to his words; a certain type of gravity to them.

(Though, perhaps it was because of his background as a therapist who dealt with PTSD patients, Sam understood the magnitude of Peter's words. Logically, Sam knew that fighting as an Avenger meant facing threats that normal people wouldn't be able to handle.

However, after all the fighting he's done in the past months with the team, Sam realizes that he forgot what it felt like to be normal. To be unable to do something about crime.

Sam forgot what it felt like to be helpless.)

However, oblivious to the atmosphere, Steve still felt confused. "What's the difference? You're still fighting a threat."

Sighing, Peter looked to the ceiling, muttering unheard 'Lord, give me patience because if you give me strength, I will become a murderer.' and thought that this would take more talks for his point to sink in than he originally thought. "You're superheroes. The work you do is important, I get it. You save the world. But what happens when the world is safe but the people aren't. Aliens aren't the only criminals."

Locking eyes with Steve, he continued. "I'm not an avenger. That was my choice. I mean I help out here and there, but I know that becoming an Avenger would mean giving up on my patrols or losing time while dealing with bigger threats that other could handle just as well. I wouldn't be able to save the people."

Peter thought about the people he met out on patrol. It's not Captain America's name the people call out when they get robbed or a woman gets raped, or children get lost. It's Peter's. They call out to Spider-man. As if he's their own personal hero; someone they can depend on.

And that's his job, isn't it? Peter Parker has always told himself to put the little guy first. No matter how many missions the Avengers put him on, he doesn't consider himself an Avenger. He made that clear to Mr. Stark from the get-go.

Being an Avenger came with restrictions, consequences that he didn't want to deal with. Unlike Mr. Barton or Mr. Wilson, Peter didn't stay in to play a tournament of Mario Kart. He can't come and go as he pleased like Ms. Romanoff. He can't miss out on patrol and laze around like the rest of them.

(There were people calling out to him, after all. He had people he needed to save.)

"The difference here? The difference is you save the world, I save the person."

Looking around, he could see realization dawning on some of their faces. Though, Peter supposes, they wouldn't be able to fully grasp the magnitude of his words without seeing it for themselves.

Peter's thoughts went back to today's battle. "No offense, Mr. Rogers, but in today's battle, I, as Spider-man, incurred the least damages, saved the people that the destruction you caused would have hurt, evacuated the people from the building you decided to destroy with no warning. I did that."

Tracing the indentions that the shooters made on his hand, Peter murmured, "Even now, I am aware you all are still against the accords." The rogues stiffen. They didn't think they were that obvious in their dislike. Was it that obvious?

Looking at them with sad eyes, "I am no idiot. But you all have to realize that your actions have consequences. They aren't just numbers on paper or statistics you see on the news. The destruction you cause without care can actually affect others."

"You don't get to tell me whether or not I could be a hero. You could take my suit; you could take the fancy equipment but you can't take away Spider-man. I've been doing this from before you met me; I'll still be doing it after. I don't need your validation and seal of approval to be able to call myself a hero."

"So, after all that, can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that I shouldn't save that woman a few blocks away from the rapists because I'm too young?"

Standing up, Peter moved towards the door. With his hand on the handle, Peter said quietly "What makes a hero, Mr. Rogers? I don't think it's about whether or not you could throw a punch or withstand an explosion. I've seen normal people do heroic things. I see people buy hot dogs and sit down together with the homeless to share a meal. I've seen true kindness in people."

Opening the door, Peter throws out one final sentence. "Maybe, you should think about that."

The door clicks shut, leaving the Avengers to think in silence.

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Author's Note: this was originally posted on AO3 on April 4, 2021 and was one of my first works ever. so, feedback and comments are very much appreciated! thank you!