𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐑 | 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

grief isn't power ⋆ peter&shuri

I can't tell if the world is blurring or if it's just my eyes.

I'm following Aunt May –am I? Or is it Miss Potts? No, this woman's hair is brown. Miss Potts doesn't have brown hair, she has blonde, Aunt May has brown hair, follow Aunt May– outside, and I feel my feet carry me down the foreign steps, onto the grass, out to the pond. I unintentionally find myself looking around, and my eyes land on a small play-set. Morgan's. Another sob chokes out of me, a painful sound that makes my chest feel like it's going to crumble.

Aunt May wraps her arms around me in silent comfort as more people fill the lawn. My eyes are glued to the end of the dock, and I see a tall figure step somewhat in front of me. I don't process that someone's there until a few seconds later, and once I do I slowly bring my eyes up. Cap stands in front of me, his head hung low and his shoulders shaking as they move up and down. Is he crying?

A flash of blonde hair passing me breaks me out of the thought and I'm suddenly brought back to the present. Morgan holds tightly onto one of her hands, and her other is occupied by a large flower bouquet. Miss Potts makes her way to the front of the dock, Rhodey and Happy following close behind. I'm almost sure that someone is talking, but I can't focus enough to catch on. The world blurs again and my ears drown in silence, my body trembling without moving. Aunt May rests a stable hand on my shoulder and I fall into the soft touch. It's the only thing keeping me somewhat grounded.

Miss Potts places the bouquet with the arc reactor into the water and I watch it float off, leaving a small wake of petals behind. After a few minutes, some people around me begin to move as they make their way back inside or to another part of the yard, but I stay still. I can't move– it feels like I'm stuck, and even though I know I can move, I know I can leave, I can take my eyes off the bouquet, off the arc reactor, at the same time I know I can't. Aunt May lightly nudges my shoulder in an attempt to move me from my rigid position, but just I can't move.

It's all just too much, I think I tell Aunt May, but I can't tell what's in my head and what's real anymore.

It's the one second of thoughts that comes after the sentence I possibly told May that finally breaks me right down the middle.

It hurts.

I don't know–

I don't know what to do.

It doesn't feel real.

Am I really here?

I shouldn't be here.

"Then let's go home, baby. You don't need to stay."

I just–

I don't know what to do, May.

I should be doing something.

I shouldn't be feeling like this.

I should be helping, I should be helping Miss Potts, or Morgan, or Happy.

They need the help, I was just an intern, I shouldn't feel like thi–

"Don't say that, Pete. You and I both know the relationship you two had. You're allowed to grieve. Honestly, I'd be worried if you weren't grieving over Tony. I'm grieving too. The whole world's grieving. You're allowed to feel this way."

I just feel like I shouldn't, May.

I'm at Mr. Stark's house, with Mr. Stark's friends, with his family: his wife, his daughter.

There's all of them, and then there's me–

"You say that as if you weren't family to him, Peter. Stop denying your mourning. He was a father figure to you."