Ms.Marvel's Stress

8

Kamala's POV:

I woke up feeling... light. Like everything was soft, and the world outside was kind of far away. I stretched out my arms, my little hands reaching for the air, and I giggled when my blanket wrapped around me like a soft cocoon. The whole room felt bright, and everything seemed… fun. I kicked my legs out, feeling a big, happy grin spread across my face.

“Medusa?” I called out, my voice small and sing-songy. “Where are you? Wanna play with me?”

I wiggled around on the soft bed, feeling a weird mix of excitement and curiosity. My feet couldn’t quite touch the ground when I tried to stand, and my little hands were so small that when I looked at them, it felt like they didn’t belong to me at all. I didn’t know why, but I liked it. Everything felt lighter, like there was no rush or big, scary things to worry about. I could just be... happy.

A soft voice came from the door. “Kamala? You’re awake?”

I turned and saw Medusa standing there, smiling at me with those warm eyes. She bent down to my level and, without thinking, I held my arms up to her. “Hi, Medusa!” I said, giggling and stretching my arms out like I needed a hug.

Her smile widened, and she scooped me up gently, cradling me close. “Good morning, little one. How are you feeling today?”

“Good! I wanna play,” I chirped, grinning up at her. "Wanna play with me, Medusa?"

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "What would you like to play, Kamala?" she asked, her voice so gentle.

“Play... play!" I repeated eagerly, bouncing in her arms. "We could build something. Or... or maybe hide and seek!” I clapped my hands together, excited by the idea of a game.

Medusa raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. “I think you might be a little too small to hide very well, sweet one. But if you want to play, we can find something fun.” Her hands gently set me down, and I toddled a few steps before stopping to think.

“Oh! Oh!” I said, suddenly bouncing up and down. “I wanna make pancakes! I wanna help!”

Medusa smiled softly and nodded. “Alright, Kamala. Pancakes it is.”

As she led me into the kitchen, I looked around, my small feet kicking against the floor as I padded along behind her. I loved the kitchen. It smelled like sweet things and always felt so cozy. I climbed up onto one of the stools, sitting on my knees, my feet dangling just above the ground. My tiny hands grabbed the edge of the counter, trying to reach for something.

“I wanna help! I can stir! I’m really good at stirring!” I giggled, rocking back and forth in my seat.

Medusa looked down at me and gave me a soft smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Of course you can, little one,” she said, reaching for a bowl. “You can stir all you want.”

I was practically bouncing in place, so excited. “I’m gonna make the best pancakes! Like, the *best*!” I said, my voice rising in excitement.

Medusa carefully handed me a spoon, and I grabbed it with both hands. I held it up, trying to stir in big circles, but the spoon felt heavy, and some of the batter splashed out of the bowl.

“Oops!” I giggled again, watching the little splashes fall everywhere. “I made a mess! But it’s okay! I’ll clean it up!” I held out my hands as if I could magically clean up all the flour and milk that had spilled on the counter.

Medusa’s laughter filled the room, soft and warm. “Don’t worry, Kamala. I’ll take care of it. You just keep stirring.”

I nodded seriously, my little hands working even harder, making a mess in the process. But I didn’t mind. The mess was part of the fun. When the pancakes were finally ready, I could hardly sit still, bouncing on the stool. Medusa plated a stack of fluffy pancakes and placed them in front of me, and I squealed in excitement.

“Yummy!” I exclaimed, my face lighting up as I dove right in, syrup dripping down my chin.

Medusa’s smile was tender as she watched me. "I’m glad you like them, Kamala. You deserve to be happy, sweet one."

I nodded between mouthfuls, not even bothering to use a fork, just digging in with my hands. “Best pancakes *ever*!”

---

Medusa’s POV:

Watching Kamala today was like watching a flower bloom in the sunlight. The way she played, with her laughter filling the air, her eyes sparkling with pure joy—it was as if she was rediscovering herself, one small moment at a time. Her carefree spirit, the one that had once been buried under the weight of being a hero, was coming back in full force. I hadn’t seen her so… happy in a long time.

When we finished breakfast, Kamala’s little voice rang out, full of excitement. “Can we build a castle now? A big one!” She was already hopping off her stool, as if the idea of building something together was the best thing in the world.

“You want to build a castle, little one?” I asked, my voice full of affection.

“Yes! A big one with lots of walls and dragons!” Kamala clapped her hands, her face glowing with anticipation.

I chuckled. “Alright, we’ll build the biggest castle ever. With dragons, and secret doors, and treasure chests."

Her eyes grew wide. “Treasure!” she squealed. “I like treasure! And dragons! And... and... secret rooms!”

We spent the next few hours together, Kamala building and imagining with such joy. And I was right there beside her, watching her come to life in ways I hadn’t expected. I had always known Kamala had a brave heart, a spirit that could take on the world, but right now, she was just a little girl. A little girl who was safe and loved, and allowed to just be.

Later that afternoon, I brought Kamala into the garden. She had been asking about the plants for days now, but today she seemed especially curious. As we wandered through the flowers, Kamala’s little feet pitter-pattered ahead of me. Her hands reached out to touch the petals, her tiny fingers brushing over the leaves with delicate curiosity.

“Do you think the flowers talk?” she asked, her voice sweet and innocent.

I smiled softly, kneeling beside her. “Maybe they do. Maybe they tell stories if you listen closely.”

Kamala pressed her ear to one of the flowers. “I think I hear it!” she said, giggling and looking up at me with those bright eyes. “It’s telling me secrets!”

I chuckled, my heart swelling with love. “Well, make sure to keep the secrets safe, little one.”

And as the day wore on, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for these moments. Kamala deserved them. She deserved to feel like a little girl, free from worries, surrounded by people who loved her.

As the sun began to set, Kamala snuggled close to me, yawning and feeling the weight of the day on her tiny shoulders. I picked her up and carried her inside, her small form nestled against me.

“Medusa?” she mumbled sleepily, her voice small and content. “Will we play again tomorrow?”

I kissed the top of her head, her warmth and trust filling my heart. “Of course, little one. Tomorrow and every day after that.”

As I carried Kamala to her room, I knew that for once, she had the chance to just be. And that made all the difference.

Kamala’s POV:

I smiled up at Medusa as she tucked me in. I didn’t want today to end, but I was so sleepy. “Goodnight, Medusa,” I whispered, feeling safe and warm.

“Goodnight, Kamala,” she said softly, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Sleep well, little one. Tomorrow will be just as fun.”

And as I closed my eyes, my little fingers curled around the blanket, I knew that tomorrow would be another perfect day—full of games, laughter, and the love of a family that was starting to feel more like home every day.