Grant

Chapter Fourteen-Time and Family

So, I try to give myself some time. For a few days I don't venture out of my room and if I do it's at night just to grab food. I flinch at every touch and can't go in the kitchen while food is cooking because the smell of sizzling meat is too much for me. Tony and Peter bring me food and there are other knocks on my door, but I don't let anyone else in. At least, until I sneak out one night and come back to find someone in my room. Two someones, actually.

"Hi." I whisper with an armful of PB and my favorite chocolate cookies that Natasha definitely left on the counter on purpose. Janie looks up from her chair at the same time a little boy does the same. He's got dark hair, bright green eyes, and seems even younger than Janie. Maybe around six or seven.

"Grant!" Janie says and skips over, tossing her arms around my waist. I wince slightly as her arms skim my burns on my hip, but let my hand skim her light hair. She pulls back with a smile and waves to her friend who is half hiding beside my bed. "This is Thomas. He was at the place with the rest of us and can't really sleep like me. Is it okay if he stays here too?" I nod as I set my goodies down on the little coffee table in the sitting room attached to my bedroom.

"Course he can. You can have some cookies too, if you like." She lights up and hugs me again, but I can't help but pull away slightly as she runs right into me. "Sorry, kid, but you've got to treat me a little gentler. You know these burns here?" I show her my wrists and she nods. "Well, I've got more here, here, and here. So, you've got to be a bit softer, okay?" She nods emphatically and takes my hand instead to hug it tightly. I smile before sitting down in front of the table full of sweets. Janie walks over to Thomas and whispers to him for a second with a lot of hand motions, then they clasp hands and walk over.

Janie surprises me by sitting right next to me and ducking under my arm to carefully snuggle close to my side. Thomas stands on the other side of the table staring at my other side indecisively. "Hey, Thomas. Feel free to take what you want, sit where you want, whatever. Be comfortable." Those bright eyes stare at me for a minute before he looks to Janie. She nods.

"It's okay, Thomas. He's safe." She assures him and he sways slightly before walking over to my other side to settle down just a few inches from me. It's a little strange; these kids considering me a safe place when my mind is so volatile, but I won't disappoint them. If they say I'm safe, then I'll keep them safe. No matter what.

"Alright. I like to put peanut butter on my cookies to make a sandwich. I'm thinking either one sandwich or just two cookies before bed. Deal?" I glance at the kids to my sides and they nod. I make myself a sandwich first, then Janie makes herself one. When I look at Thomas and he doesn't reach for anything, my eyebrows raise. "What would you like, kid?" His eyes flash to mine, then he puts his hands together. "Got it." I make him a sandwich, then pass it over to him. His hand flattens and rests on his chin, then falls forward. I blink. My hand lifts and my thumb pokes my chest as I sign that it's fine. His big green eyes get even bigger and he lets loose a small smile before taking a bit of the sandwich.

"Thomas can't hear or talk, but he's really good at reading lips. That's how we talk." Janie tells me and I nod. Good thing Natasha taught me sign a long time ago. Although I'm definitely a little rusty. We eat our midnight snack, then just as I'm about to offer them my bed while I take the couch, they settle in the chair beside my bed with the blanket. Smiling softly, I grab a thicker blanket and drape it over the two since it's getting chillier.

"Night." I sign as I say it and see Thomas grin again as my hands brush over their hair, then I climb into bed. Movement is almost normal as my accelerated healing finally starts to kick in, but I still need to be careful as the skin regrows in its new state. It'll be such a relief once I can move freely again. Run. Jump. Shift. My dreams that night are mixed, but the firm memory of the wind on my face is clear.