UNKNOWN GUEST

#65 Chasing Nightmares

Dinner was a quiet affair. The kind of quiet that wasn't just about eating but about the unspoken tension hanging over the table. Everyone was too aware of what had happened earlier, and no one really knew what to say. Even Thor had flown off somewhere, leaving the rest of us to stew in our thoughts.

As the last of the plates were cleared away, I leaned over to Uncle Clint and whispered, "Uncle, you do the arrangement of room-sharing."

He looked at me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

I sighed, giving him a knowing nod. "Don't let Aunt Laura do it."

His confusion deepened, but he nodded in agreement. He didn't know the full story, but I did. In the future, Uncle Clint had once told me how Aunt Laura, thinking she was being helpful, had set up a room for my mom and Dr. Banner to share. She had sensed some tension between them and thought rooming together might ease it. Dad, though, had been quietly jealous and unsure how to express it. No way was I letting history repeat itself here.

When the time came for the room assignments, Uncle Clint took charge. "Gentlemen," he started, "you can guess why we don't have enough space for all of us. So, for the night, let's share some rooms, yeah? We've got four bedrooms. Steve and Jason can share one."

I exchanged a glance with Dad, who gave me an approving nod. At least that part of the plan was working.

Uncle Clint continued, "Tony and Bruce, you science bros can share a room."

Uncle Tony grumbled something under his breath, but nodded, and Bruce just gave a small, resigned smile. They both knew it made sense, even if it wasn't ideal.

Then came the tricky part. Uncle Clint turned to his kids. "Now, it's up to Lila and Cooper. Who do you want to share a room with—Dad or Aunt Nat?"

Both kids practically shouted, "Aunt Nat!"

Uncle Clint shot them a mock glare, trying to hide his amusement. "Alright, alright," he said with a feigned sigh of defeat. "Aunt Nat it is."

Everyone started to head off to their respective spaces, the tension easing just a bit now that sleeping arrangements were sorted. But just as I was about to head to my room, Uncle Clint pulled me aside.

"What's wrong if Laura had done this?" he asked quietly, clearly still curious about my earlier insistence.

I shook my head, keeping my voice low. "It wouldn't be very comfortable seeing my mother sharing a room with Bruce just because Aunt Laura sensed some tension, would it?"

The realization dawned on him, and he let out a soft, understanding "ooooh."

I smiled, relieved he got it. "Yeah. Good night, Uncle Clint."

He nodded, giving me a pat on the back before heading off to his room. I watched him go, then turned and walked into mine, feeling a strange mix of relief and exhaustion.

I walked into the room and found Dad lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers to all of life's questions. I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Cap, if you're not comfortable, I can take the couch—"

He interrupted me with a chuckle, "You forget I was in the army. About five or six men would share this much space." He gestured to the bed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I nodded, returning his smile, and climbed onto the bed, taking the right side. The mattress dipped slightly under my weight, and I let out a long sigh as I settled in. For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the sound of our breathing.

Then, after a beat, Dad spoke up. "You seemed pretty shaken up earlier."

I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, mimicking his pose. "So did you."