One Dance 2: Invincible

13.

You laid down so you could rest your back; it had begun to hurt.

Peter came in so you raised your head. He looked at you and saw your puffy, red face.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said, wiping your eyes. "Just upset about some stuff."

"I'm assuming you don't want to talk about it, but if you decide you do want to, I'm here."

"I actually do want to talk to you about it."

"Well, go ahead. I'm listening."

You told him everything about how you were feeling; the guilt, the anger, the sadness. Everything.

"How long has all that been going on?" he asked.

"I don't know, since when I started getting more involved with you, things with Hydra started..."

He looked at you sympathetically. "I know so much has happened, y/n...I know. I don't know how it felt while I was dusted but honestly, I don't really want to know. I don't want to feel what you felt because I know it sucked. I know being alone and afraid sucked. But we're gonna fix it. We're going to rebuild the world and fix the damage, you and me, together...we're gonna bring it back. Be seventeen...we've still got the right."

"You really had to use the Heathers lyrics?"

"What?"

You laughed. "Never mind."

"You still need to get anything out?" Asked Peter.

"No, I don't think so. Any secrets you want to go ahead and share?"

"Um," said Peter, pretending to be suspicious.

"Tell me where you were on the night—"

"It isn't true, I swear!"

"Then where were you—"

"Okay, fine! Fine, I...I still sleep with my teddy bear named Sherman."

"That is literally the cutest, most adorable thing you've ever said."

"I don't think I still have him, though," he said. "Since you know, Aunt May's place is all gone..."

You frowned. "I'm sorry, Pete. I'm so sorry."

"Aunt May told me a little while ago...she lost all the pictures of Uncle Ben. The only one she still has left is the one she keeps in her purse."

You held his hand. "My dad told me that Natasha was watching me from above...I'm sure Uncle Ben is too. And I'm sure he's very proud."

He smiled. "He's probably laughing at me for still having Sherman."

"Oh, come on! I bet he did the same thing when he was little."

Peter smiled. "He named his Freddie."

"Awh," you giggled.

You heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Your mom entered with two bowls of soup. It smelled absolutely delicious.

"Most everyone who has somewhere else to go has left," your mom said, setting the two bowls down in front of you and Peter. "It's not homemade, but I hope you still like it."

"Mom, you should be getting rest, not making dinner for everyone."

"You're the one talking! Taking forty-eight bullets all over your body?"