Life Changes

Seven

Tony looks around, unsure where he was at first. He started to recognize his surroundings. Stephen's room? More specifically Stephen's bed. Then the panic set in. He didn't really remember anything from the previous night. What the hell happened? Did he- Did they-

Tony climbs out of the bed, noting with relief, that he was fully clothed.

"Stephen?" He calls, padding out into the living room and then the kitchen. It was empty. Then he noticed the time. Eleven thirty.

"Shit!" Tony scrambles around before trying to call Stephen and getting voice mail. That's when he noticed the sticky note on the door.

Tony, don't bother coming today. I told Rogers you're sick. No more drinking and don't bother looking as I have gotten rid of all of mine and stopped by your place. Go rest and shower. You smell terrible. I'll know if you don't. And don't bother calling, I'm busy all day. I'll see you later.

The note was written in Stephen's careful, neat handwriting. Though it was written, Tony could hear Stephen speaking in his head, cold and careful. He sighs and pulls on his shoes and jacket. He needed to find out exactly what happened.

-----.------

Peter looks up as a doctor he didn't recognize entered his room. He was big compared to Tony. He had a fake arm too, which Peter found pretty cool. The arm was decorated with swirls and music notes.

"Hi?" Peter asked, sitting up.

"Hello."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Bucky. I'm a peds surgeon."

"Peds?"

"I work with kids."

Peter tilts his head. "You do know I'm an adult right? Did Tony tell you I was-"

"No Tony didn't tell me you were a kid. I am aware of your age."

"So-not to be rude at all- why are you here?"

Bucky laughs, sitting down. "You see this here?" He gestures to his prosthetic arm.

'Um..yes?" Peter answers, confused.

Bucky looks at him thoughtfully.

"I was in the same predicament you're in years ago."

Peter blinks, not understanding at first. The he leans back, his eyes narrowed.

"You can still do what you love. I literally cannot."

Bucky stared at him, obviously choosing his next words very carefully.

"Peter, when I was younger, I never wanted to come anywhere near a hospital if I didn't want to. I was a cop right here in New York City. One of the best on the precinct. There was a bomber that took out an entire city block, about thirteen years ago."

Peter nods. "I remember that. I just started seventh grade when that happened." His voice was small, careful.

"I almost had the guy when part of the building collapsed and trapped me and a pregnant woman. She went into labor and I had to deliver her baby myself. At that point I had no training at all. But the little boy seemed healthy. We stayed there until the EMTs came to get us. We managed to get her out but part of the building collapsed. I was knocked back and pinned under a peice of the building. I couldn't feel my arm and I blacked out. Next thing i know, I'm in the hospital with a missing arm. That's the day I met Steve Rogers. He was just an intern at the time but he helped so much. Never put up with any of my bullshit and called me out on it every time. He helped me get back on my feet and made me realize that there was more to life than chasing down bad guys and paperwork."