Ms.Marvel's Stress

6

Kamala’s POV:

I took another sip of the tea, the warmth settling in my chest, and something inside me just *shifted*. I hadn’t realized how much tension had been gnawing at me or how much I’d been holding back until now. Maybe it was the combination of the tea, the soft blanket, and the gentle attention from Carol and Medusa. Maybe it was the quiet, peaceful atmosphere.

I could feel my body sinking deeper into the cushions, my muscles relaxing further than I thought they could. I hadn’t realized how tired I was—really, truly tired—until the weight of exhaustion hit me all at once. It wasn’t just physical. It was mental, emotional... everything.

For a moment, I could almost pretend I was just a regular teenager, not someone always expected to be strong or to *do* something. I closed my eyes for a second, just resting, and the next thing I knew, I was drifting, my mind becoming hazy.

Medusa’s voice reached me again, softer this time. "It’s okay, Kamala. Just let go. You don’t have to be the hero right now."

I frowned slightly at the words, but the more I heard them, the more they made sense. I didn’t need to do everything all the time. I didn’t need to be the strong one all the time. I *could* let someone else take care of things. For once, it felt like permission.

I felt Carol’s hand lightly pat my head, her voice teasing but gentle. "You're doing great, kid. Just let it all go."

I squirmed under the blanket slightly, the sensation of being *taken care of*—really and truly—unfamiliar, but not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. It was almost... nice. There was no weight on my shoulders. No pressure. No need to prove anything.

I shifted again, trying to fight the sensation bubbling up inside me. "I’m not... a little kid," I mumbled, though the protest felt weak.

Carol raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Sure you’re not," she said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "But it’s okay to feel small sometimes. You’re allowed to take a break."

My chest tightened a little, but it was more out of something deep inside me—something that was finally allowed to be heard. "I don’t... know how to do that," I admitted in a small, quiet voice, almost not believing the words as they left my mouth.

Medusa gave me an understanding look, her voice soothing. "It’s not about doing, Kamala. It’s about being. Sometimes, we all need someone to remind us that we don’t have to always be strong."

I felt my eyes flutter open again, a little dazed. I blinked up at the ceiling, feeling disoriented, like I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to be anymore. Everything felt soft, and there was no looming mission. No deadlines. No responsibilities. Just warmth and comfort.

Carol smiled down at me, a little more fondly than I was used to. "You don’t have to have all the answers, Kamala. You just have to let us take care of you for a while."

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. Instead, I sank deeper into the cushions, my head starting to feel heavier, my body lighter. The longer I stayed like this, the less I felt the need to be anything but *me*—just a regular girl, allowed to feel tired and cared for.

And for the first time in what felt like years, I stopped fighting it.

Captain Marvel’s POV:

I watched Kamala’s eyes flutter closed again, her body curling slightly under the blanket. She was letting herself drift, even if she didn't fully realize it. It was a good sign, though. A big one.

I could see her resisting, trying to hold on to her usual tough exterior, but it was slowly crumbling. She wasn’t a child, and she wasn’t going to let herself be babied. But there was something about the vulnerability she was allowing herself to feel that made my heart ache with something close to pride.