𝘼𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨. Though every time no matter which funeral or which sympathetic soul that had chosen to say such words, they always ended up sounding like a plagiarised motivational quote found on a poster in a gym. At least in Achille's opinion. She had been to many funerals in her lengthy life time. Her parents', though that one she barely remembered. Nat's, and finally, the most recent funeral, the funeral of Tony Stark.
It was a strange feeling attending the funerals of your best friends. Someone who you had bared your soul to. Secrets shared only between three people that were sworn to be taken to the grave now only resting on the shoulders of the one who lived. Achilles had told Nat and Tony everything she knew and anything she could remember and in return, they told her everything as well. Vivid memories of them sat around in the Avenger's Tower living room in the middle of the night, every single one of them insomniacs who shared their tragic pasts to each other over a bottle of whiskey and a packet of sweets. She would keep their secrets till her dying day. She knew she would.
While watching Pepper Potts lower the "heart" of her late best friend into the still waters of the lake beside his very home, Achilles thought that Tony would've hated his funeral. She knew the somber atmosphere that surrounded all that had attended said funeral would've been suffocating for him. She knew he would've tried to crack a few jokes in order to "lighten the mood" or better yet, he would've just left. While she understood that the funeral was necessary when it came to allowing who were present at it to mourn she couldn't help but wish she hadn't attended it, but alas, she was here for Pepper, she was here for Morgan and she was here for Peter. She would suck it up for one more hour.
