Chapter 7

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It had been 15 minutes. Not that Peter had actually timed it but it certainly felt like it. 15 minutes, at least.

Mr. Stark was ranting and raving, pacing back and forth and stabbing a finger at him or Strange in turn. Not a surprise, of course, if a little excessive even for Mr. Stark. He'd always been a stubborn bastard. Peter couldn't get a single word in edgewise. He would just talk over him, ramble on about responsibilities and accountability and trust and whatnot. He dug up every little thing, even the damn ferry incident, which was not fair at all. As if that had been even remotely the same thing. Neither was the unintended trip to space.

If it hadn't been for Strange's orange dome, Mr. Stark might have just wandered off by now. Maybe Peter shouldn't have used his own words against him. At first, Mr. Stark's mouth had hung open, stunned into silence. Dead silence. And then, Rogers had made a move. Unsuccessfully, though, plus pretty predictable. Granted, Peter's senses would have picked up the fast approaching footsteps from behind even if an armada of Chitauri had suddenly made their way into the ally. At Rogers' approach, the hair on his neck rose and his body was ready, his senses scanning for the threat. He had managed to surprise Rogers even back in Germany. Two years of Spider-man-ing later, the new suit, plus Mr. Stark was right in front of him. If Rogers thought he could get past Peter's reflexes, he had been wrong. Very wrong.

When the Captain had launched for Mr. Stark, Peter had just needed to extend his arms and swiftly whirl his mentor around. One pull, a few quick steps, and Peter's body was between Mr. Stark and Rogers. The Iron Spider reformed around him like a second skin, his web shooters engaged. He had been ready for this, ready to fight for Mr. Stark when he had so miserably failed him in the battle on Earth. And on Titan.

Peter's eyes were fixed on Rogers' shield and when his senses fully kicked in, time seemed to slow. The Captain came at him. Detaching the shield from his back, he firmly clasped it in his hand, building up speed. Let him come. He could take Rogers. He wouldn't break as he had in the hospital. He wouldn't give in. Not this time. Behind him, Mr. Stark shouted for them to stop. He ignored him. Eyes on the man. Eyes on the shield. Then, the familiar orange veil rose in front of him, a swirling barrier between them. Rogers, unfamiliar with Strange's particular brand of magic, braced himself behind his shield and ran headfirst into the dome. A clash and, like earlier Bruce Banner, he was catapulted backwards, just about missed Lang and smashed into the front of the car right next to him. Ha. Served him right.

"Peter!" Mr. Stark grabbed him from behind, and with Rogers dazed for the moment, he let himself be pulled back.

But it was Strange's voice that actually startled him out of his fight mode. "Peter... I know we're not on a particularly tight schedule here, but this is really not the time to indulge in your Captain America revenge fantasy. So... can we not?"

"He started it."

"And I am stopping it. I don't care how mad you are at the other Captain Rogers version, this one has not a clue what's going on and there's no need for all the drama."

It took a certain amount of self-control for him to keep his cool, but he let the suit retract back into the housing unit, signaling some sort of cooperation. Even the damn cloak was pointing a fabric finger accusingly at him. He fought the urge to turn away from the wizard, sulky teenager style, and instead, relaxed his arms. The wizard was right. Rogers wasn't important right now. He turned to the man he had come to bring home, the only one who really mattered. Mr. Stark had taken one look at him, and then he had started off his rant.

On the other side of the orange shield, Lang stood with his mouth hanging open. Rogers had extracted himself from the wreckage of the car and paced the perimeter of the dome. Not as frantically as Peter's mentor, up and down, up and down, always at the edge of the dome. If anything he looked like a tiger that circled its prey. Thank god for the Doctor's barrier. Without it, he'd have been absolutely screwed.

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