MAGIC TRICKS [PETER PARKER]

FORTY-ONE

"HOW ARE YOU?"

Nadia sighed, the question tumbling around in an empty brain. "Mmm... I'm pretty good. Better, now that the school year is over."

Her therapist watched with interested blue eyes; the old man crossed his legs, signifying he wished for her to elaborate more. She struggled, at first, opening up, just as she always had.

"Better... now that Peter is back." Nadia hesitates, swallowing thickly. "Still a train wreck I guess." He gave her a look and she backtracked. "Right, right. No more self-deprecating, got it..." Rethinking, she considered a different phrase. "I'm... making progress, but I haven't gotten very far."

"What makes you think that?"

She started to pull at her fingers, but stopped herself. "I... I can't sleep. It sounds clingy and cheesy and stupid, but it helps to be with him. At least when I'm with him I know he's alive."

The man pursed his lips in thought, but stayed silent, willing her to continue. "We're different, and I hate that, but we manage."

Nadia was quiet again, as an attack of thoughts bombarded her head. Peter and Nadia's relationship was different for more reasons than she could name, but mainly, if not solely on the fact that they spend less time together now than before the Blip, considering she hadn't stepped foot in her super-suit since Tony Stark's death.

Her therapist narrowed his eyes. It was as if he could read her thoughts. "How are you dealing with Tony's death?"

Nadia shook her head slightly, ignoring her better judgement and wringing her hands again. "I don't know why you keep asking me that..." Her heart rate rose steadily. "Whatever I feel doesn't matter. I-I wasn't close to him like..." An image of Peter Parker crying at Tony's funeral flashed before her eyes. "All that matters to me is Peter, helping him. He and his aunt lost their apartment, their belongings, everything." She realized her voice had grown tight. "I just want to help him get back to the Peter that I know."

The old man uncrossed his legs and began, "Your grief isn't insignificant, Nadia. You can't help anyone until you help yourself." Nadia looked away, knowing deep down he was right, continuing to scratch at her skin.

A woman bumped into Nadia's chair with her walker, causing the girl to snap from her thoughts. "Sorry, dear," the older lady said, patting her shoulder with a bony hand, "Brand new walker, still not quite used to it." She smelled terribly of the nursing home cafeteria Nadia sat in, where she came every week to visit her "personal therapist."

Nadia gave her a sweet smile before turning back to the man she was speaking to. "How's Bucky?" she asked, deciding it was his turn to share.

Steve Rogers smiled fondly. "Adjusting."

Since the event of Tony Stark's death, Nadia had been visiting the old man in the old folks home he resided in after traveling back in time to live his life with Peggy Carter. They found it oddly comfortable to share their feelings and help each other recover from the tragedies they'd survived.