Ms.Marvel's Stress

7

Kamala's POV:

I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. Everything felt... so much bigger than I was. My head felt light, and my hands, they were so small. I didn't feel like me. I didn't feel like Kamala Khan, the superhero who always had to be brave. My thoughts were fuzzy, drifting in and out like they didn't belong to me.

I couldn't remember why I was so tired or how I had ended up here, curled up against Medusa. I just wanted to stay close to her. She was warm, safe, and everything I needed right now. But even that felt like too much to hold onto.

I squeezed my eyes shut and felt a whimper leave my lips, not like me at all. But it was there. A little sound, soft and unsure. My fingers curled into the fabric of Medusa's shirt, tiny hands trembling.

"Medusa..." The words came out in a high, unsteady voice, not the voice I was used to. It sounded like a little kid, a voice I wasn't sure I recognized. "I don't know what to do..."

Medusa shifted, pulling me closer, her arms wrapping around me like a protective shield. "Shh, Kamala," she whispered, her voice a gentle hum. "You don't have to do anything right now. It's okay to be little. You don't have to be anything but yourself."

I felt small. Smaller than I had ever felt before. My legs curled up underneath me, and I hugged my knees to my chest, pressing my face into Medusa's chest. I felt like I had regressed into a child, too small to make sense of anything. There was no superhero Kamala left, no confident girl who could take on the world. There was just this tiny, scared child who wanted comfort and reassurance.

"Medusa... I'm scared," I whispered again, my voice so small and fragile. My hands were tiny, the fingers too weak to hold anything properly, and I didn't know why everything felt so different. I couldn't think straight. I felt so little.

Medusa's soft hand stroked my hair, and I felt her warm breath near my ear as she spoke, her voice a soft lullaby. "There's nothing to be scared of, Kamala. You're safe here with me. You don't have to worry about anything."

I sniffled, the tears beginning to blur my vision. My body felt so small now, like I wasn't even in control of it anymore. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be Kamala-the superhero, the fighter. But there was nothing I could do. I was a little kid again, unable to fend for myself.

"I'm... I'm little," I mumbled, a little hiccup in my voice. "I don't know what's happening."

Medusa shifted, cradling me in her arms as if I were a child, adjusting the blanket around us both. Her voice was soft, full of understanding. "It's okay, Kamala. You can be little right now. You've carried so much for so long. Let me take care of you. You don't need to do anything."

I could feel my tiny hands holding onto her, gripping tightly as though I was afraid to let go. Everything seemed so overwhelming. My chest felt tight, and the weight of everything I had been holding in-every fear, every worry, every responsibility-seemed to press down on me, leaving me feeling smaller and smaller.

I whimpered again, my voice trembling with the uncertainty of a young child. "Don't leave me... please..."

Medusa didn't hesitate for a moment. She gently pulled me closer, tucking my head under her chin. "I'm not going anywhere, Kamala. You're safe here. You don't have to be anything but who you are right now."

I felt the warmth of her arms, the softness of the blanket, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt like I could breathe. It was like I was no longer carrying the weight of the world. I wasn't Kamala the superhero anymore. I was just a little girl in need of care.

"Stay with me?" My voice was so tiny, barely more than a whisper. I wasn't sure if I could handle being by myself anymore. I wasn't sure if I even *knew* how to be by myself.

Medusa smiled softly, brushing a tear from my cheek. "Of course, Kamala. I'm right here. I'll stay with you as long as you need."

I felt my body relax into her arms, the tension melting away, and I could finally let go of everything that had been weighing me down. She was right. I didn't have to be strong. I didn't have to fight. I could just be... little.

And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to let go completely. I closed my eyes, feeling the safety of Medusa's arms around me, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep, small, vulnerable, but safe.

Medusa's POV:

Kamala had fully regressed now, her body soft and small in my arms. Her voice was high and uncertain, full of the innocence of a child who didn't know how to process everything she had been through. I could feel the little hands gripping my shirt, seeking comfort, seeking reassurance, and I held her tighter. She was so fragile right now, so vulnerable.

She had spent so long protecting others, being the one who was strong, who was the hero. But now, she needed someone to take care of her. And I was more than willing to give her that.

I could feel her tiny body trembling in my arms, her breath coming in soft, shaky sobs as she whispered her fears to me. She was scared, and I understood. This wasn't the Kamala I knew-the brave, fearless girl who had been through so much. This was the Kamala who was finally allowed to be small, to be vulnerable, to be a child again.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, my hand rubbing her back in soft circles. "You're safe here, Kamala. You don't need to be anything else."

I adjusted the blanket, pulling her closer, feeling her tiny body relax against mine as sleep began to take her. I felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders, knowing she didn't have to carry it anymore. She could be little. She could let go.

And as I held her close, I promised myself I would be here for her-whenever she needed me. She didn't have to be a hero right now. She didn't have to be anything but Kamala, my sweet, vulnerable Kamala.

And I would keep her safe. Always.