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16

Every time Dad threw a party, I had to go down to the lab a few hours beforehand to remind him ans Peter.

This party was not an exception. When I got to their lab, they were sitting with their heads together, pouring over a diagram on Peter's tablet. I walked up behind them and they didn't even stir, so I reached down to ruffle Peter's hair and looked over his shoulder at the screen. Dad looked up and smiled before quickly looking back down.

"Is this that disarming tech you've been working on?" I asked.

"Sure is. You think it'll work?" Dad responded, leaning over slightly so I had a better view of the diagram.

Dad never asked Peter or me rhetorical questions. If he asked us our opinions, he wanted them. So I stared down at the tablet screen and furrowed my brow in concentration for a moment before pointing to the upper corner.

"Try inverting that."

Peter's eyes widened and he let out a small gasp before he tapped the screen, flipping the piece I had pointed too.

"Of course. See Pete, this is why I always say we need fresh eyes. Thanks kid," Dad said.

I just nodded, before kissing each of their heads and turning to leave the room.

"Don't forget to get ready for the party," I told them as I left.

***

When I got back to my bedroom, Pietro was already there, standing by my bed, holding the book that had been laying on my nightstand.

"Hi?" I said, but it came out as a question.

Pietro turned around when he heard my voice.

"I was looking for you."

"Yeah I figured," I said. "I was at the lab. I always have to remind Dad and Peter about these stupid parties. They get carried away down there."

"This book," he said, ignoring my explanation entirely. "Do you like it?"

The book in his hand was a very well-read book that Poppa had given me about World War II. I frowned slightly, confused by the question.

"If I didn't, it wouldn't be on my nightstand. Why?"

"Do you read it to impress your father?"

I laughed awkwardly.

"Did you get a psychology degree while we weren't talking?" Pietro just stared at me for a second, studying me with a slight crease between his eyebrows. "Are you going to tell me what you're thinking, or just ask cryptic questions?"

"I am thinking that you are very afraid of people leaving," he finally said.

I scoffed. "Everyone is afraid of people leaving."

"Not like you though."

"Oh yeah? And what makes you say that?"

"I think that you learned tech to bond with Stark, and you read about the war to bond with Rogers, and you learned combat, even though you don't need to,  to impress Romanoff. I think that everything you do is for someone else. You have no idea who you really are. What do you like that is only for you, Tessa?"

For a moment, I considered telling him everything. I considered telling him how terrified I was that Poppa would always wish that he had had the life he was supposed to in the 40s and how I had done everything I could to be the perfect daughter so he wouldn't. How I thought that if I did everything possible to be enough for him, maybe he would stay. I considered telling him that my deepest fear was losing my family. My deepest fear was that they would abandon me. But I didn't do that.