Timshel

Epilogue - An Evening I Will Not Forget

warnings: fluff! all the fluff in the world

***

"Are you sure you want to?" Peter asks, "we can have Happy drive us."

"No, no, my legs are doing better," you assure Peter, walking slightly ahead of him, daring to jog down the hallway of the apartment.

"Y/N! Careful!" He shouts, holding his hands out.

You laugh and it's music to both of your ears. Peter has waited for months and months to hear you laugh and now he can't get enough of it. He can spend forever listening to your laugh.

You let Peter wrap his arms around your waist and hold you to him, your legs shaking slightly.

"Come on, we'll have plenty of time to walk around the museum, let's let Happy drive us."

"Okay," you sighed in defeat, feeling slightly frustrated that after two months of physical therapy, the most you can walk is a mile or so and that is with a cane. Your body is healing surprisingly easily according to Rhodey. He lost the ability to walk years and years ago and used tech designed by Tony Stark to help him walk. He said it was a long battle and you should be grateful you're alive. Which led Peter to yell at him. You were allowed to be upset, you were allowed to be frustrated when you used to be the fastest person in the room, the strongest, and now there were days in which you could hardly get out of bed. After years of being the best fighter, you were allowed to feel defeated.

And that's what you felt like a lot of the time. You are supposed to be going back to school soon to start your senior year. Happy offered to drive you since you probably couldn't walk, but the thought of school makes you feel defeated. You're still the smartest person in the room. But you wouldn't be able to take gym class. And the worst of all, you probably wouldn't be able to swing from roof to roof with Peter after school, watching the sunset over the buildings.

You love when Peter defends you. You know you could defend yourself, and oftentimes you would, but there is something special about how he would stand up for you. He furrows his eyebrows and his entire body would shake and all it would take was you to wrap your arms around his waist for him to calm down.

He would exhale and rest his head on your shoulder, you're okay, therefore he could be okay as well.

But today is a good day. It's a good day because you and Peter are going out on a date. A real date. Not one that involved lying half dead next to the Crown Jewels or playing card games while you're in a hospital room. You're going to the MoMA, the museum of modern art. It's only a short train ride and walk away but Peter insists that Happy drive you. Mostly because he's scared of the toll today would take on your body. It feels weird to call him your boyfriend but that's what Betty insisted you call him because that's what he is.

When you asked him, one time while playing blackjack in the hospital, he got so excited he nearly spilled his apple juice all over the bed.

"You want me to be your boyfriend, like you're 100% sure?" Peter sits up, a deep red flushing his face all the way to the tips of his ears as he sets the apple juice down on the side table and takes your hand in his own.

"Yes. I mean I said it already. But you didn't say anything back, Betty said it was the shock. That I needed to repeat myself. But I like you, romantically. And Betty was always telling me that I needed to tell you before it was too late. And Peter, it almost became too late. So I want to be your girlfriend."

"Okay, yeah, I really want you to be my girlfriend too."

"Okay, Happy can drive us," you nod as he pulls back slightly.