I've been feeling a lot worse since the funeral. It's like I'm drowning. The more I try to reach the surface, the more the water drags me under. The little bit of optimism I had dissolved when Steve left. Everyone keeps trying to talk to me but I don't have the strength to hold up a conversation. Whenever I do talk, like with Peter and my friends at school, for instance, I don't say much. I've tried to act like my old self again but it's so obviously forced, I think everyone can see through the facade. It's just really hard to pretend like everything is fine when I'm in constant agony; when this empty feeling keeps weighing me down. It used to be so easy to hide my pain. I became an expert at it when I escaped from the lab at 12 years old and lived with the trauma of that horrible place for the next few years.
When I came out of the ice, my whole world shattered around me but I fooled everyone into thinking I was happier than I actually was. The only person who knew just how much I was suffering was Peter. However, he has his own grief to deal with right now, he lost Tony too. He doesn't need to worry about my grief on top of his, which is why I'm keeping him at arm's length. I'm keeping everyone at arm's length. This time it's different. This time it's a lot more difficult to put on a smile in front of the world. I was already on the edge when Tony died and Steve leaving was the tipping point. Something inside me snapped after that.
A knock sounds at the door, ripping me out of my thoughts. I don't say anything, hoping Pepper will get the hint and leave me alone. She knocks again. "Y/n? Someone's here to see you." Oh, gosh, why? I just want to lay here and grieve in peace.
"Y/n? It's me."
I immediately sit up when I hear a new voice. I know exactly who it belongs to. I slowly get out of bed and hesitantly approach the door. I stand there, just staring at the doorknob, debating whether I should open it or not. I take a deep breath and grab the knob, slowly opening the door to reveal Jonathan. He sends me a sweet grin while I stare back blankly. "Hey... can I come in?" he asks. I nod before trudging back to my bed and sitting down. He steps inside and sits next to me. "You haven't returned any of my calls. I came to check on you," he gently speaks. I stare down at my hands and shrug, not knowing what to say.
"Pepper tells me you spend a lot of time in here, that you only go to school then come back to lock yourself in your room. It's been three weeks, y/n," he whispers.
"What's your point?" I deadpan. He gives me a wary look as if he's afraid to break me.
"Look, I know that three weeks is a short amount of time and no one's expecting you to be fine by now... but it could help to talk to someone," he expresses, making me scoff.
"To who? To you?" I bitterly question. He gapes at me in shock.
"Maybe, it could help. I know what you're feeling, I've been there."
I gaze at him with a bitter smile. "This isn't the same... because I came back. I came back because I wasn't really gone."
"I know and I'm forever grateful for that... But it happened twice and both times were the most miserable times of my life. I thought I lost you, your return doesn't mean it hurt any less."
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Wicked Game || CURRENTLY EDITING
FanfictionStranger Things x MCU IMPORTANT: This book is undergoing major changes so I wouldn't read it just yet. Y/n is a girl with superpowers who escaped from Hawkins Lab when she was 12 years old. Those powers prove to be useful when an ominous peril thre...