~Broken Family~

A Fire That's Long Gone

Gwen raised her arms above her head, squinting at the blinding light in front of her.

Her heart raced.

Her breath came in quick, frightened gasps.

Then, slowly, she looked away from the light into the audience, down at Billy's enthusiastic grin. He gave her a freckled double thumbs up and an encouraging nod. Sucking in a deep, calming breath of air, Gwen allowed herself to melt away into the dance and into the music.

Her legs bent, jumped, and twirled like she had practiced a million times, dancing across the stage in perfect grace. She held her arms out to the side, as if reaching for something. Trying to pull something closer that didn't want to come.

Someone.

As she drew back, she felt fear prickling her skin. Fear of failure. Fear of loss. Fear of never seeing his smile again. She retreated back into the shadows, unsuccessfully trying to hold back the tears that pricked the corners of her eyes.

It'll mess up your makeup, she tried to tell herself. The thought wasn't of much consolation, given she didn't care about it. Her dance instructor required it for everyone during recitals.

After the dance, Gwen curtsied and followed the rest of her class backstage. Everyone congratulated her on how well she'd done on her solo, but it flew right over her head. She didn't feel like she deserved it, not after moving on from the Snap like she hadn't needed Peter or her parents.

And the way she'd treated Harley.

WHY NOT TALK TO HARLEY? Billy asked one afternoon when he'd caught Gwen looking at a picture of him on her phone. The one photo of him she had left: him hanging upside down off of the monkey bars, Grover licking his face.

CAN'T, she signed. MAD AT ME. TEXTS, NOT ANSWER.

Billy had shaken his head in disbelief, but he hadn't pushed her.

Now, after a whole year and a half of not seeing him, of him ignoring her texts, she realized (not for the first time) that she wouldn't be able to apologize in a text. She needed to do it in person.

All she had to do now was wrack up the nerve.

***

Come on, she pleaded, glaring at herself in the bathroom mirror of the Roberts' house. Don't be a jerk. Remember all those stupid things you said to Harley? Well, think about how much it hurt him after he risked his butt to save you and you didn't apologize. Just get it over with. At least you'll know whether or not he still wants to be friends.

Gwen knew there was hardly a hope of becoming what they used to be, she wasn't an idiot. But that didn't stop her from hoping. A whole year and a half had passed; who knew if he was even still the same person?

Well, his birthday's next month, she thought, trying to make herself put it off. Maybe you can wait until then.

But what a horrible birthday present that would be. Your ex-girlfriend showing up on your front door, begging to be forgiven for getting mad at him for something that hadn't even been his fault and then saying he wasn't Tony's real son?

She winced as the cruel words she had thrown at one of the HYDRA agents in a desperate attempt for them to let Harley go. It'd backfired miserably and, even worse, Harley had thought she was being serious.

She'd never gotten the chance to explain. As soon as they had landed, she'd searched the jet for him, but Tony had said he'd already left and wanted to be alone.

The last time she had seen him, Clay was dragging him, beaten, bloody, and screaming for Gwen, to his death. Eleonora, Clay's girlfriend, had told her the entire story. How it had been Harley's idea to come back for her. But he still didn't want to see her.