Daughter Dearest

two

When they arrived back at the tower and Venus was positive that they hadn't done anything to Peter, she disappeared to her floor to clean up; but not before placing a motherly kiss on his forehead and ruffling his fluffy hair. 

The very second her bedroom door was closed and locked, she shed the suit that was like a protective second skin, leaving it in a heap on the floor at the foot of her bed to be dealt with later. 

She unclasped the custom made bra from the back, hanging it on the closet door as she passed by. She would also get to that later. 

Venus slid the remaining offending fabric down her legs, tossing them in the hamper just inside her bathroom door. 
She stared at her exposed body for a long moment in the large mirror that was perfectly above the entirety of the countertop, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. 

Blood had managed to get onto her neck, freckling not only her face but the smooth pale flesh of her neck. 

The rest of her was rather undamaged, as far as physical imperfections went. A couple scars that would be gone by morning. 

She slowly turned away from the mirror, setting her sights on the linen closet that housed every shower necessity she had bought herself. . . Custom shampoos and conditioners, all natural soaps, fluffy blue towels that wrapped all the way around her body without strain, with matching washcloths, and funny little bath bombs that she used on the rare occasion she used the bathtub rather than the shower. 

Venus grabbed a towel and washcloth, hanging them both on the little bar to the left hand side of the entrance, just inside to provide access. 

On the other side, she turned the water on and allowed it time to warm up before stepping underneath, not bothering to watch as the steaming hot water slowly made the crimson blotches disappear.

Within moments, her fingers were massaging one of her shampoos into her scalp, with her back facing the steady stream of water — releasing the tension in her back. 

She basked in the feeling of the soapy hot water running down her back as she rinsed her hair completely. 
Venus further felt more like herself as the washcloth easily glided up and down her smooth skin, leaving the soothing woodsy scent in its wake that vaguely reminded her of the outskirts of the Asgardian forest. 

The remaining bit of showering went by in a blur, until she found herself wrapped in the fluffy towel that she had laid out. 

She walked out of the bathroom, the cool air of her bedroom hitting her at full force as she began deciding what she was going to wear for the evening. Venus could only assume that nobody else felt like cooking or going out into public just after returning from a mission. 

So she dried herself off and grabbed a gray shirt from the dresser. She wasn't sure who it belonged to anymore, but she was willing to bet that it was either Bucky's or Steve's, purely based on the brand and size. 

Venus pulled it on and then grabbed the singular needed undergarment that would allow her to roam the halls freely. With the shirt hanging to mid thigh, she should be fine. 

Realizing the amount of people that came in and out of the tower each day, she groaned and grabbed the pair of sleep shorts that Natasha had insisted on buying her, knowing very well they'd be off before bed. 

★†★

As the sun rose the next morning, the tower slowly came to life as the inhabitants started waking up one by one. 

Steve and Bucky were the first out the door at 6:00 A.M. sharp for their morning run, whereas Sam woke up a little bit later and chose to run laps around the training room until Clint and Natasha entered for their 8:30 A.M. sparring session. 

Wanda and Loki awoke around the same time, as well as Bruce. The three could be found in separate rooms, sipping their own morning beverages while simply avoiding human contact until they were awake enough. 

Pietro, Peter, Venus, and Thor slept the longest, though once Thor was awake, so was everyone else. 

As for Tony, it was bold for anyone to assume he slept overnight. Or at all. He wouldn't unless someone slipped him a melatonin after dinner or he crashed while eating breakfast. 

Whichever came first. 

By the time Venus felt alive enough to exit her room and venture up to the main floor where the team spent most of their time, it was nearly noon. 

Her stomach grumbled loudly as she stepped off of the elevator and beelined for the kitchen where others were already looking for a lunch option to satisfy them until supper time. 

“Good morning.” She greeted, immediately finding her way to the refrigerator to grab out the deli bag of cheese. Bagged cheese from the store was an oddity to her, even still, but the deli stuff proved to be far better than the Kraft singles that she had initially been introduced to upon finding herself on Midgard.

“Morning. . . What are you doing?” Clint asked skeptically as Venus went for the loaves of bread that sat on the counter. 

She stared at him for a long moment, blinking twice as she held up the two simple ingredients. “Making tomato soup and grilled cheeses for all of us. . . It's one of the Midgardian meals that I can't fuck up and it's quite tasty.” 

At that information, Bruce, Peter, and Bucky exited the room. 

Venus placed the cheese and bread on the counter by where they kept the spreadable butter, immediately setting off to the other side of the kitchen to obtain two baking sheets and the cans of soup that were continuously bought and shoved into the back of the cabinets. 

“What time is Laura dropping the kids off? She still plans to go see her mother in the hospital, right?” Venus struck up conversation as she went about buttering bread and placing them on the metal baking sheets with a slice of cheese and a second buttered slice of bread. 

She noticed the way he shrugged as if he hadn't spoken to his wife since the conversation was had. Truthfully, he probably hadn't. With the mission proving to be a stressful one, the last thing he needed was a potential argument. 

Their marriage had been a little rocky since 2012, around the time Venus decided to remain on Midgard after the battle. 

Even if it wasn't because of her, she wasn't risking being caught in the middle. It was too much of a coincidence for her to remain as close to the man as she was, despite seeing him as another brother from the moment she punched him square in the nose. 

“Sometime around two, probably.” Clint replied with a heavy sigh. 

Venus hummed in reply, getting the oven right where she needed it before sliding the trays into it and getting started on the soup. “I won't be here, unfortunately. I'm sure she'll understand.” 

Clint nodded, already knowing where she was going with that. “She'll be thrilled. . . By the way, Stark stashed the goldfish crackers at the back of the bottom cabinet.”

“I know.”