While There's Still Something Left

Stuff Happens: The LoveLove Chronicles

Peter watched with the others as Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint lifted off into the sky, the quinjet getting smaller and smaller by the second. It didn't take long before they disappeared altogether, too far to be visible even to Peter. The grey of the sky above them seemed so fitting, the world's colors seemingly sapped away in the early dark of morning, shadows peppering the muted colors with black. Peter rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, then turned away, the others following shortly after.

Everyone was quiet as they made their way to their own floors. Natasha gave Tony a quick kiss on the cheek when they made it to hers then gave Peter a quick hug. She already made a point of pushing Peter to spend the day in the lab with her and Tony during breakfast, but they were all still in their sleep clothes and decided to meet back around 9. Nobody said it, but Peter supposed everyone needed a little time to themselves before pretending they didn't just send their friends into a possible trap, too.

When Peter stepped into his room, he stared at his bed. He could feel himself shaking, unreasonable anger making his eyes sting. For someone so smart, Peter was useless. He couldn't do anything right. Even something as easy as telling his friend goodbye got botched all to hell because he couldn't get a handle on his emotions for even an hour.

It shouldn't have mattered. He told Natasha he wouldn't let Steve's unreciprocated feelings change anything. He swore he wouldn't let his feelings get in the way of their friendship yet here he was and Steve was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. What was the use of being what he was if he couldn't even get this right?

Peter wanted to hit something. He wanted to smash his laptop, shred his pillows, throw the lamp against the window. He wanted to yell. No. He wanted to scream. He wanted to demand the others pack their bags and follow after them, Steve's concerns be damned. But he couldn't. He sat on the edge of his bed, and closed his eyes, elbows on his knees and hands knotted in his hair.

He was already playing over the morning, dissecting how things went, what he should have done differently. He wished he could blame the way he acted around Steve on being tired, but the truth was, he didn't know how to be what he was before.

Knowing there was no chance with Steve acted like a rift between Peter and his feelings. He knew they were there, but he could distance himself from them. It made everything easier. He could see Steve, admire his endless talents and leadership, and spend time with him without feeling like his world would implode.

After last night, the rift was gone. The world had shifted and he felt everything at full force; the good, the bad and the agonizing. He wasn't sure what triggered the change, but he knew there was no going back. Where he wanted to keep them buried and hidden before, it took everything in him to stifle the part of him that wanted to pull Steve aside and tell him how much he cared about him. That part of him didn't care if his feelings were returned, he just needed them known, but the other part of him knew that would only make things worse.

You love him, right?

I do.

The words played over and over in his head, taunting him, tainting the memory of everything that lead up to them. Remembering the way Steve's arm interlocked with his didn't make him smile, it made him feel sick. Thinking of his laugh, the way he smiled, all of it was just too much. Peter managed to eat breakfast with everyone just fine, but by the time they said their goodbyes, Peter couldn't even look at Steve, much less touch him.

He was torn between two completely opposing views of Steve, and he didn't know which one to let win.

Peter looked up at the picture of May from the newspaper on his desk. He stared at it for a long time, then stood, walking over and plucking it from its spot. The picture was old, and the way her hair was pulled back out of her face made her look even younger, but she still looked like his May. Big glasses sat on the edge of her nose, and she held up a certificate next to the other nurses in her station.