The Forgotten -Marvel 2-

Chapter 35

The phone ringing caught her attention. Everyone glanced at the landline sitting on a table by the front door. "People still use those," Max questioned.

Lydia ignored him, walking toward the phone. She already knew who it was before she picked up. "Hello?"

"Lydia," Happy's voice filled her ears. "What the hell is going on? Who are those people with you? Is there a cyborg with you?"

"Happy-"

"And where the hell have you been? It's been over a day!"

She winced at his tone. "I'll explain everything when-"

"You'll explain everything right now," he argued. "I'm on my way there, and I swear if there's a man made of mud, I'll-"

"Not mud," she promised. "It's sand."

"That's not any better!"

"Happy," she responded. "I can't talk right now. We're busy-"

"Oh, I don't care. Do you know how much trouble you're in? And Peter. I swear when I-"

"Oh no, I think the lines breaking up." She made fake static noises into the phone.

"Lydia, don't you-"

"Breaking up," she made another noise. "I'm sorry. Love you. Bye." Quickly, she hung up. Before the phone could ring again, she yanked the cord out of the wall. "Shit." Quickly, she rushed into the back room where Peter, Dr. Octavius, and Dr. Osborn were. They're working on a cure for Dr. Osborn. There were two of him, as he explained earlier. Himself and someone else. He called his other persona the Green Goblin. "Hey," she greeted them. "Happy's on his way, and he's pissed."

Peter glanced at her, biting his lip. "Great, okay. Thanks, Lydia." She nodded, feeling a twist in her gut. Lydia had been fighting a long time, and she knew when things felt overly simple, they were. Things were never simple. They were never easy.

The entire situation felt easy.

Discarded on a desk nearby was a briefcase, the one Happy had recently shown her. There was a suit inside. A suit Tony had made for her while she was on the run. At the time, she hadn't been ready to open it. It didn't feel right. Lydia never planned to fight again. She had put everything behind her.

But the past was slowly creeping up on her, and something in her gut told her to prepare. Silently, she grabbed the suitcase and walked out of the room. Keeping her head down, she slipped down the hallway and entered her room.

Setting the suitcase on the bed, she lowered herself to her knees. Letting her fingers skim against the lock, she found herself unable to open it a second time. Tony would never be able to give her the suit. He would never see her wear it. Never see her fight. Never see her smile. Tony was gone. She hated that.

"Hey," someone said as they knocked on the door. "Peter said you ran off and looked a bit distraught. Are you worried about Happy? I can talk to him-"

"It's not that," she promised. "It's just-" Lydia looked at the briefcase.

"What's going on, honey?" May was concerned. "You can talk to me. Maybe I can help."

Lydia took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm not like Peter. I'm not a hero. I don't save the day. I don't do anything." But cause problems, she wanted to add but didn't. "I'm not anything."

To May, her words were crazy. Lydia was a hero. "You are a hero," May corrected. She moved closer, sitting on the ground beside her. "You're a hero. You do save the day. You are something. You're amazing, Lydia."