Safe and Sound

Chapter 16

    We stay like that for a little while, and he slowly rocks us back and forth. I guess I’ll just have to tough it out tonight, I have nothing else to do. I may have to call in sick tomorrow… Gods it’s gonna hurt… and I just had a panic attack in front of them oh no… My head is pounding… It’s so bright.

    “You’re okay. Do you wanna talk about it?” Wade whispers.

    “It’s bright…” I whine. He looks up to Mr. Stark.

    “Friday, dim the lights to thirty percent.” Mr. Stark says.

    “Of course, Tin Can.” Friday replies, the lights suddenly dim, and it doesn’t hurt so bad. Mr. Stark mutters something about Steve.

    “Are you? Do you need a drink or some food?” Dr. Banner asks. I’m about to shake my head when my stomach growls and I bury my face in Wade’s neck again, groaning. Dr. Banner chuckles.

    “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?” Wade says. Still I yelp as he stands, holding me bridal style. It hurts… I adjust so his arm isn’t pressing against one of the bruises on my back. “Sorry.” he whispers.

    “Alright, let’s head to the common rooms for lunch. Take us up Fir.” Mr. Stark keeps shooting me nervous glances, dragging my crutch after us.

    *I can walk.* I sign.

    “No you can’t, not on that knee. I’m gonna get you a brace before you can even think about going on crutches. I don’t know how you even got here.” Dr. Bruce tells me. I’m used to it… When the door to the common room opens I quickly cover my eyes, wincing.

    “Friday, turn the lights down to thirty percent.”

    “Of course, Tin Can.” the AI says. The lights dim and they settle me lengthwise on the couch, propping my leg up on a pillow.

    “Hey guys, how’s it going?” Nat walks in. Her eyes land on my and she pauses for a moment, studying me. Her eyes linger on my previously dislocated shoulder and I try to relax it. She makes eye contact, tilting her head a bit. “Peter, what happened, паук.” (Spider).

*Nothing, mama cnHgep.* (translation of Russian to English alphabet, Mama Spider.)

    Nat grins and comes to sit beside me, looking me over a little more closely. She frowns as she stares at my arm, where Mr. Barton shot me, my shoulder and back where Mr. Stark has, and I can see the guilt flash through her eyes.

    “So, what happened?” she asks softly, glancing up at the dim lights.

    “He got mugged again,” Mr. Stark glares at me, “and sprained his knee, then he got a bad phone call and had a panic attack. So we’re eating grilled cheese and watching Frozen.” he explains.

    “Как твоя рука?” Nat asks. (How is your arm?)

    *Все нормаnьно* I sign. She nods.

    “Другой не знает русского” she explains, “How did you learn it?”

    *I know Italian too, from my Aunt May. I taught myself over summer, when bored.* I tell her. She nods.

    “So, Nat, looks like you have a new friend to speak murder with… I’m gonna go see if Steve wants to join us. We need to have a chat about nicknames.” Mr. Stark walks off and Mr. Barton sits in the chair to our left.

    “Are you okay?” Wade sits in front of me, on the floor. I nod. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. I shake my head, and I flinch away as a pen and pad lands on the couch beside me, tossed to me from behind.

    “YA znayu, chto sinyak ty poluchil ne ot nas, i, uchityvaya tvoyu lichnost', ya somnevayus', chto ty pozvolil grabitelyu sdelat' eto.” Nat says. “Tebe nuzhno gde-nibud' pospat'?” (I know you did not get that bruise from us, and given your identity I doubt you let a mugger do that. Do you need a place to sleep?”) she asks.

    “Net, vse v poryadke. Nichego osobennogo.” I write. (No, I’m doing alright. It’s nothing, really.)

    “Yesli tebe kogda-nibud' ponadobitsya pomoshch', skazhi nam, moy pauchok. My vsegda otkryty dlya vas. I ya dumayu, pora tebe rasskazat' drugim, kto ty. Ikh usiliya stanut tol'ko boleye zhestokimi.” (If you ever need help, please tell us my Little Spider. We’re always open to you. And I think it’s about time you tell the others who you are. Their efforts will only get more violent.)

    *Spasibo, mama, pauk, dumayu, smogu.* (Thank you Mama Spider, I think I might.) I write.

    Wade, Mr. Barton, and Mr. Banner look between us, very confused.

    “Are you planning against us?” Mr. Barton looks concerned. I just shake my head, tearing the paper out and crumpling it up. 

    “Who wants grilled cheese?!” Mr. Stark whisper yells.

    I spend the next few weeks following the same pattern, and without threat from the Avengers. Go home, clean, get beat, sleep, wake up, and go to the internship. Trying to find a job as a mute, and one with temporary hearing problems at that, is a struggle. Especially when I’m limping everywhere and flinching at everything. Still, the others don’t seem to mind.

    Hanging out with the Avengers has been nice. We finished Wade’s suit, and the toaster. They insist I eat when they do. Be it breakfast, lunch, sometimes dinner, or just snacks throughout the day. It depends on how busy they are, what we need to get done.

    Some days we just watch Disney movies and take naps, and others we make coffee and fix things. And by fix things I mean we plan to fix things and Mr. Stark and I tend to blow shit up.

    Mrs. Potts came back from a business trip I wasn’t aware she was on. She’s very nice, and while she doesn’t really know sign language she tries really hard. Mr. Barton has even taught me a few curse words, rather than just the middle finger or spelling them out.

    I see the odd glances when I flinch at a loud noise or sudden movement, when I have to calm myself down, backing away from the edge of an anxiety attack, when I come in with a new limp, explaining how clumsy I am.

    “You worry me kid.” Mr. Stark says.

    *I’m okay, really.* I sign.