Far From My Home [COMPLETE]

Chapter 16: Home

Y/N's POV

I should've known. Bad things happen at airports.

I'm going to develop a fear of airports now. Not to be confused with fear of airplanes or flying- those are way too rational.

No, I'm afraid of airports.

Besides, I'm sitting on a very nice and fancy jet right now, and yes, it's in the air.

I'm never going to be able to go anywhere ever again. Not after what just happened.

So I should probably back up a few hours...

~Time Rewind~

So, we are all on our way to the airport, right?

I'm roasting Brad, rolling my eyes at Ned, taking stalker photos of MJ and Harry...

You know, the usual.

Everything is fine and dandy until we get to the actual place.

As to be expected, the place is alive and bustling with activity. Not like really late at night or early in the morning when airports are just plane creepy and down-right wrong. It was noisy, and chock full of people who had no clue what we were saying and therefore, couldn't help us find where we needed to go. Thank God we arrived about three hours before our flight. After getting through customs and TSA, we waited in our terminal until it's time to board. MJ, Harry, and I go get sandwiches (with the invaluable help of Google Translate) and coffee. Of course, I check my phone every other minute to see if "my dad had texted me".

Nobody bought that whopper. Not even me.

Let me just say, it's a freaking good thing I'm not the one with a secret identity here, cuz apparently I can't lie for shawarma.

So, here I am, anxiously trying to savor my latte and sandwich, ignoring the stupidity of Ethan, Flash, and Brad. I swear, there's maybe two brain cells to be found between the three of them. Anyway, I'm just casually sipping my coffee when I hear my phone ring.

I guess you could say my Y/N Tingle was going crazy.

Except it isn't Peter.

It was Harold Hogan...?

Oh, Happy!

"Who's that, N/N?" Harry asks curiously.

"Uh, it's um, Peter's aunt's boyfriend?" They exchange a look that tells me they'd sooner believe I'm Thor.

Gosh, Y/N, if you're gonna lie, at least make it a convincing one.

"I'll be right back guys," I bolt to a quiet corner, answering the phone just before it stopped ringing. "Hello?"

"God, I can't believe I'm actually doing this," he groans, it's nice to know you haven't changed, Happy. "You're the girlfriend right?"

"What?" It took a few seconds to click in my mind what he meant. "Oh, you mean Peter's girlfriend? It's kinda complicated-"

"I didn't ask for your life's story. Look, are you or are you not Y/N L/N?"

"That's me," I don't know if my answer is grammatically correct or whatever, but my anxiety is through the roof right now and I already sound like an idiot, so it doesn't really matter anyway.

"Good. I'm in Terminal E-"

"I didn't know there was a Terminal E here," I comment.

"It's not for commercial flights."

"You have a private jet?!"

"Technically it's Peter's jet, but don't you dare tell him that, he thinks it's mine."

Peter has a freaking private jet!!

"Wait, so why do I have to meet you there? Is Peter with you?"

"I thought he said you were smart," he mumbles before continuing, not giving me time to express my indignation. "I'm taking you to see Peter."

"Oh, is he okay?"

The line goes quiet.

You're not helping my anxiety Mr. Happy!!!

"No, no he's not. He needs you, kid," oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crappity crappers... "So get your ass over here, we're on a tight schedule."

"What about the class-"

"I took care of it."

"And my stuff-"

"The other friend is on it," Ned.

"Okay, I'm on my way," I hang up without a second thought, clearing my head of all thoughts except for one:

Peter needs me.

Holy Hershey's, this deja vu is overwhelming. I've got to stop running through airports, crying, for this guy.

~Time Catchup~

So, now you know why I'm sitting on a private jet to this place in the Netherlands that I have no earthly clue how to pronounce.

Happy filled me in earlier- Peter had called him earlier today(can we just talk about the speed of that thing? Like, did he come all the way from New York just like that?), telling him his location and whatnot, and also to tell me something. To listen to "Home" by Daughtry.

I knew he'd like Daughtry...

(video:)

Just as the last chords of the song ring out through my headphones, I feel the jet begin to descend. I look out the window and see that we're landing in the middle of a tulip field. How cliché, I mean, there's probably more to the Netherlands than tulips and windmills.

And there's a figure in the field... Bloodied and bruised...

I let out an audible sob, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle it, but arriving too late.

I've never seen him this bad before...

Happy heads out first, politely not commenting on my current state of emotional uproar. I ultimately decide that it's stupid to hide from Peter because of this, so I march out, determined to do something.

The second I step out, the sobs come back. Before I know it, I'm running towards him.

"Peter," I whisper, stepping closer to him, but he flinches away, eyes stinging with pain.

Ouch... Okay...

"Tell me something- something only Y/N would know," he holds up a hand, separating us.

"Peter-"

"Please! I need to know that it's really you," his eyes, oh gosh his eyes...

I can't hold back any longer, I grab his outstretched hand gently, look him in his sorrowful eyes and begin to sing through my own sobs. Our song.

"You're never gonna be alone," I rub my thumb along the back of his hand, my eyes never once leaving his. "From this moment on," I choke the words out through the tears and clenching throat. I step closer to him tentatively, when he offers no resistance, I wrap my arms delicately around him, careful of all his wounds. "If you ever feel like letting go," I stroke his hair as he begins to sob into my hair. "I'll hold you til the hurt is gone."

He clings onto me, tears in everyone's eyes. Yes, everyone, including Happy, who was awkwardly watching us hug each other in silence.

Eventually, he approached us, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up, kid," and we helped Peter onto the jet, where he told us what happened.