Hearing Bucky's words, Tony's fists didn't stop. If anything, they fell with even more desperate resolve.
The murder of my parents settled by a single "I owe him"?
In your dreams!
Tony gritted his teeth, the furnace of rage in his chest incinerating whatever logic remained. Because he wasn't using the Mark IV's mechanical strength, he was relying on raw, human adrenaline. But as the "violence genes" inherent in his nature took over, he truly saw red.
He wanted to kill this man. He really did.
But... why?
Why were his fists getting lighter? Why was the world starting to spin, the edges of his vision blurring into double images?
"Huff... hah... huff..."
Tony's movements slowed. The torrential storm of blows weakened into a series of feeble shoves.
He gasped for air, his lungs feeling like a pair of rusted bellows. Every breath brought a tearing, searing pain.
A massive sense of vertigo and powerlessness washed over him. Tony looked up, unwilling to stop, trying to wind up one last punch.
But before it could land, the world flipped upside down. His eyes rolled back, and he fell straight backward onto the cold concrete.
A grand, bloody vendetta had ended with a whimper, in a way no one expected.
Watching the two men sprawled on the ground, Peter let out a long, weary sigh. He knew exactly why Tony had collapsed—the symptoms of palladium poisoning were finally rearing their ugly head.
Ironically, the very thing that was supposed to be Tony's death sentence had become the "MVP" of de-escalation.
Tony had vented his rage without anyone stopping him. Given his prideful nature, he likely wouldn't wake up and cling to the grudge with the same murderous intent.
As long as Bucky stayed out of his sight for a while, they could coexist in a state of mutual avoidance.
"Alright, that's that. The friction between them is... tentatively resolved," Peter said, turning to Captain America. "But they can't stay in the Avengers together. Not after this."
Steve opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to plead for his old friend. He wanted Bucky by his side, back in the light.
"Peter, I know I'm asking a lot... but can you give Bucky a chance? He's spent his whole life at war. If we give him freedom only to leave him with nothing but his memories, he'll rot from the inside out."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Cool it, Cap. I said he can't be an Avenger. I didn't say he had to retire and knit sweaters."
Steve's eyes lit up. "Then... what do you mean?"
Peter's lips curled into a smirk, the look of a man who had already played the entire game out in his head.
"If he can't be an Avenger, we just start a new team. The Avengers are meant for the 'world-ending' stuff—the big, shiny threats. Honestly, in a fight like that, Bucky is just high-grade cannonball fodder."
"So, I'm forming a new department. A place for specialists with... let's say, 'colorful' histories, or those whose skills are too specific for the front lines.
They'll handle the jobs that are too small for a god or a billionaire, but too dangerous for a standard SWAT team."
"I'm calling it... The Thunderbolts."
"They won't be as glamorous as the Avengers, but they'll be doing the heavy lifting for justice all the same." Peter looked at Steve significantly.
"Steve, I want you to act as the Thunderbolts' moral compass. When the Avengers aren't on a mission, you lead them. Teach them how to be real heroes."
"As for the Field Leader..." Peter looked at Bucky. "That's his job."
To Steve, this sounded like a heavenly choir. Bucky as a leader? Of a new team? This solved everything. It gave Bucky a home, a purpose, and a path to redemption.
He would no longer be the Winter Soldier lurking in the shadows; he would be the Commander of the Thunderbolts, standing in the sun.
"Peter..." Steve's voice cracked with emotion. "I don't know how to thank you."
"Save the sap for later," Peter waved him off dismissively. "If you're cool with it, take him and get out of here. I'm not healing his face—let him feel the stings.
Consider it my personal tax for what happened to my parents' friends."
Steve didn't complain. He gave Peter a respectful nod, hoisted Bucky up, and disappeared into the night.
Once they were gone, Peter looked down at Tony.
He briefly considered a few "pranks"—like using his powers to give Tony a temporary case of ED just to watch him panic—but he shook the thought away.
He placed a hand on Tony's shoulder and activated the Horse Talisman. White light enveloped the billionaire.
First, the skin on Tony's knuckles, shredded from the fight, knitted back together. Then, the deeper issues: the shrapnel near his heart, the toxic palladium in his blood... and even his overworked kidneys.
Under the divine power of the Talisman, these "incurable" problems evaporated. As the tiny shards of metal and the spent arc reactor were physically pushed out of Tony's chest by the healing surge, the billionaire gasped and bolted upright.
His first word was a roar: "Where is that son of a bitch?!"
"I let Steve take him," Peter said casually, before explaining the Thunderbolts arrangement.
Tony listened, and as Peter expected, he didn't blow up. After a long silence, he looked at Peter. "Thanks, kid."
"Don't worry about it. We're brothers, right?"
Peter tossed the discarded arc reactor in his hand. "Also, you don't need to plug this into your chest anymore.
I fixed the 'hole in the heart' problem. But don't slack off on that new element—I still want the best power sources for Gwen's and Felicia's suits."
Tony blinked, dazed. He felt a strange lightness in his chest. No hum of the reactor, no dull ache of the metal shards. And then... he felt a different kind of "lightness."
Tony glanced down at his lap, then back at Peter. Peter just smirked and raised an eyebrow.
"Haven't felt that much energy down there in a few years, have you?"
The realization hit Tony like a freight train. The exhaustion, the poisoning, the mechanical heart—all gone. A look of pure, unadulterated joy replaced his grimace.
He lunged forward and pulled Peter into a massive bear hug, pounding him on the back.
"Saviour! You are my true Saviour! "
If there were a background song for this moment, it would undoubtedly be: Always taking from you, but never saying thank you!
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