A Place In This World (Beginnings and Goodbyes, #1) {Completed}

can't shake the feeling

Home is frozen in time, like I never left. The kids read in the living room, Cooper confined to one cushion of the couch while Lila sprawls belly down across the remaining seats, both completely immersed in their choice of books. Mom bustles around the kitchen, getting a snack together for them, her belly getting in her way a little as she maneuvers between the counters and kitchen table. I watch her, for this brief moment, and note the middle part of her hair, and her dark brown eyes that I don't have, and her neutral expression. I notice the tremor in her hands the most, because despite maintaining her cool and keeping things going here, she's been scared.

Guilt racks through me, and tears already brim my eyes when she stops her task, feeling the presence of Dad, of me. She turns to us, and a wistful smile overtakes her face. She rushes for me, her sobs barely contained, and she takes me in her arms like she never has before, hugging me tight while the kids spring up into Dad's arms, their raucous laughter drowning out my crying. I hold onto my mother tight, and for once, I don't feel ashamed to want this sort of comfort.

The past couple of weeks have been hell post Sokovia mission with meetings and paperwork and counseling. I had to be screened and cleared in order to be able to debrief, and I underwent a fair share of questioning by some government authorities. Thankfully, Steve had been at my side the whole time, but I found out quickly enough I don't like people in suits.

In between sleeping, grieving, counseling, and debriefing, Steve started me in right way with one-on-one training sessions. I know he was trying to distract me and give me something to do with my pent up energy, but simply being close to him, even at meals, soothed me, reminded me I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. That I have my spot with the Avengers.

But I can't look Wanda in the eye, and Pietro's dull eyes find me in my nightmares. Natasha has had me sleep in her room at the new Compound until I can get moved into my own. I wake up screaming sometimes, which is new, and it worries Natasha. It worries everyone else. It's why I was cleared to come home with Dad. I need home. For only a moment to remind myself that I can get away from it all if it gets too much.

Mom kisses my face, wipes away my tears, and I've never felt more sorry in my life. I tell her, over and over again, how sorry I am, that I should never have left. But she keeps reassuring me and not to worry. So I quiet down and hug her closer, resting my cheek on her shoulder. Dad leads away the kids, up the stairs, so it can just be me and Mom.

She brushes back my loose hair from my face, and she searches it, checks me all over. Some part of her relaxes when she deems me okay, but she peers into my eyes and finds what actually hurts.

"Come, sit with Mama," she says and leads me over to the couch. We set aside the kids' books onto the coffee table still covered in craft supplies. Somehow, my mom gets me nestled as close as possible into her side, and she draws my legs across her lap. She holds one of my hands and takes my other hand to rest against her belly, which is a little rounder than the last time I was here. One kick, two. I smile and glance up at Mom, who watches me with such fondness I want to burst into tears again.

"He's been a busy body all morning. He had me up early. Must have known you two were coming home today," she says.

My eyes trace the floral pattern of her blouse, and Nathaniel kicks my palm once more. Mom squeezes my hand in hers, and I really have to look at her this time.

"Your father says you lost someone," Mom begins, caressing my cheek.

I nod because to think of Pietro is to revisit Sokovia high in the sky, and I haven't been brave enough to say anything real about that experience yet. I've only fed the psychiatrist what she wants to hear, and the same goes for everyone else on the team. I don't want to go back. But I'm home and safe.