waiting (for you)

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𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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You hadn’t expected it. 

You’d come back from a long day at work, flinging off the shoes that had been digging into your feet since eight in the morning and passed straight out on your couch, not even bothering to wash your face or change out of your clothes.

Usually, you weren’t this tired, but you’d been rushing to finish up your projects before the holidays, not wanting to deal with them in the new year. Which meant you had to pull a lot of late nights in the lab, eyes glued to the computer screen and test results long after everyone else had left. But you’d finally finished it all right in time for Christmas Eve. That you were now spending asleep, half of your body falling off the couch, alone – quite a contrast to the past decade or so. 

It's funny. A few months ago, you never could have imagined that you’d be spending the holidays alone once again. The only person you could blame was yourself, really. You just had to go and mess everything up.

That's why you were confused when you heard knocking at your door, waking you up from your slumber. Sitting up, you groaned quietly, already preparing yourself to exchange some kind of greeting with your sweet old neighbour, assuming that she was the one behind your door. You really didn’t want to get up, but you couldn’t just ignore her. She always went out of her way to bring you food and talk to you, which was more effort than your own mother had ever given. 

Making your way to the door, you rubbed your eyes, trying to remove the smudged and crusty mascara you had applied hours ago, hands smoothing over your clothes and hair as you tried to look a bit more presentable. You didn’t even bother to look in the peephole.

You really should have, though,

Because when you swung open the door without a second thought, it was not Mrs. Walls from next door. It wasn’t even the annoying kids from down the hall who would bang on your door late at night and run away once you’d answer. 

Instead it was the one person you really wished it wasn’t. For a second you thought it was just your mind playing tricks on you, that once you blinked, he would disappear. 

He didn’t. There, standing in your doorway, was Johnny Storm, bundled in a jacket with the hood pulled over his head, a red tint present on his face, be that from the cold or his own heat, you couldn’t tell. He was looking down at you, breath caught in his throat as if he hadn’t actually expected you to open the door at all. You just stared back at him, your tired mind unable to comprehend what in the world was happening. After all this time, why was he here today of all days? Could you just never catch a break even for a second?

And then, for some reason, he took your silence as an invitation and waltzed into your apartment before you could say anything and stop him. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the mess you hadn’t gotten around to cleaning just yet. It wasn’t like you were expecting anyone to come over. 

“Christmas Eve and no decorations?” He turned back around to face you, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Pretty depressing if you ask me.”

You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“W-What are you doing here, Johnny?” You asked, hands running over your face.

His smile faltered for just a moment. “Am I not allowed to come and see my best friend? We always spend Christmas Eve together.”

You gave him an exasperated look, and he sighed, turning to look out your window at the snow that was falling rapidly, covering the city in a white blanket. He always hated winter. Especially after he got his powers. 

You never minded the cold much. It was sort of welcoming, in some weird way. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Johnny murmured, turning his head back in your direction. This time, you looked away. 

“I’m not avoiding you, I just…” You exhaled, throwing your hands in the air. There was no point in lying now. “I mean, what did you expect, Johnny? Did you really think nothing would change?”

“Of course not! I – fuck. Look , I’ve been giving you space because I thought that's what you wanted. But it's been months! Can we not just…I don’t know, forget it happened? Go back to how things were?”

Meeting his gaze, you let out a small laugh, unable to believe what he was saying. “Forget it happened? Just because it's been a couple months doesn’t mean that things have changed, Johnny! Do you really not understand how I feel?”

“I do! It-It’s jus-”

“It’s just what? The world was fucking ending and I told you I loved you, and you-you couldn’t even say anything! You just stood there! I-I know, I know that you don’t ‘owe’ me anything, okay? I know that. But I really thought you felt the same way about me.” 

It was his turn to be silent now, the sound of your breathing being the only thing audible in the room. All you wanted was for him to say something, to tell you that he did feel the same way, that it wasn’t just in your head.

He stayed quiet.

“Even now you aren’t saying anything! Look, Johnny, you can’t just expect my feelings to disappear, okay? I’ve been in love with you since college! I kept it to myself because I thought that having you as a friend was enough for me but it’s not. And then the whole thing with Galactus happened and I thought that I might as well tell you, because maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way. Why else would you have convinced me to move to New York? Or introduce me to your family and spend literally every single day together?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at his feet, unable to look you in the eye. “Because we're friends!”

“Thats the thing, Johnny! Friends don’t do what we do. We’ve known each other for almost a decade, and in that time we’ve spent what, maybe like a week apart at most. I can’t recall a single day that I didn’t talk to you except for when you went to space. You cannot tell me that’s just because we're ‘friends’.” 

He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it, not knowing what to even say to that. You hated doing this to him, but you couldn’t keep lying to yourself any longer. It was going to come out eventually. There was only so much you could take. Every time he talked about some girl he went on a date with, every time he complained to you that he could never find ‘the one’, you wanted to tell him. You couldn’t understand why he was capable of liking any girl except you. 

Was it that bad to love someone like you?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He finally spoke up, letting out a breath he had been holding for who knows how long. You looked at him properly for the first time in a while, eyes tracing over him. He looked the same as he did the first day you met him all those years ago, back when your biggest problem was passing your classes and graduating. Except now he was more confident, broader, and could burst into flames whenever he chose. 

You remembered when he first got his powers. He was terrified out of his mind, unable to properly control his powers. You’d spent weeks in the lab trying to figure out a way to help him, and while you couldn’t reverse what had happened, you were able to teach him how to use his powers, how to keep them in check. You were the one who encouraged him to use them to better the world, to consider his powers as a gift, not a curse.

And maybe he was right. You could just pretend that your feelings never existed, you could go back to being his friend, to let him keep you at arms length. But you didn’t want to. Because at the end of the day you would still feel the same, and it would still hurt just as much to be his friend as it would to just…let him go. 

As long as you kept him in your life, you’d never be able to move on.

There was only one thing you could do.

“If you don’t have feelings for me, then that's that. I can’t force you to feel a certain way. But you can’t expect me to just go back to being your friend. My feelings won’t change. Especially not if we're still friends.”

You saw his face drop. He probably came here thinking he could change your mind, that somehow you’d just let him back into your life.

He should’ve known you better by now.

“So what are you saying? We’re just not going to talk anymore? Act like we don’t know each other?”

You bit your lip. “Pretty much.”

He said your name, stepping closer to you. You backed up, shaking your head while looking at the ground.

“Please don’t make this harder, Johnny.” You whispered, voice cracking.

He stood there, staring at you for what seemed like forever, clenching and unclenching his fist before he sighed, stepping away from you and heading towards your door. You watched his retreating figure, half expecting him to turn back.

Opening the door, the cold wind swept into your apartment from the hallway, sending a shiver down your spine. He put one foot out, and just before he left, he turned his head slightly, still not looking at you.

“Merry Christmas.” The door slammed shut, the echo reverberating through the room.

It was always colder without him.

“FRIDAY, are you sure?” You asked again, curiosity gnawing at your insides.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot tell you anything more.”

“Alright.” Guess you’ll have to do this on your own. But you weren’t even sure where to start – there were hundreds of files on the PC, most of them encrypted, and it would take ages to figure out which one, if it even existed, held the information you needed. Knowing your dad, there would have to be some kind of record. If you had found this thing strange, he would’ve, too. However, if FRIDAY didn’t have anything, you doubted Tony would, either. 

You stared at the object in your hands, and it was almost as if it was…calling to you? It made you feel uneasy, and you had half the mind to put it back where it came from and forget it ever existed. But the other half stopped you, the need for answers too strong. Shaking your head, you tucked the container into your pocket, making a mental note to look deeper into it later. To be honest, it kind of freaked you out. You didn’t like when things didn’t make sense. 

Uncertainty…

You made your way back up the stairs, leaving the past where it belonged. You loved designing and creating new tech—you just lost the passion for it somewhere along the way. Just like you had for a lot of things. It was like it had been ripped out of you, leaving a pit of emptiness, a gap where you used to be. You thought about calling Happy, and telling him how you truly felt and what was going on, but then those thoughts came creeping, the ones that haunted you at night, reminding you of all you had messed up. 

You’ll just be a burden. Leave it be. 

This is what you deserve. 

You can’t be fixed. 

And maybe, they were right.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but you awoke to the incessant ringing of your phone, causing you to fall off the couch in a daze. 

“Shit.” Grumbling, you rubbed at your eyes, before reaching for your phone, expecting it to be Happy on the line. Instead, you were met with an unexpected sight. 

MJ?

You had forgotten that you’d given the girl your number, and now you were kind of regretting it. Yet you still answered the call, curious as to what she wanted.

“Hello?” 

“Y/N, hey.” MJ spoke, before pausing. “Did you just wake up?”

“Not really, I was napping. What’s up?” Guess you sounded tired.

“Nothing, I was just wondering if you’d finished the Othello assignment.” Shoot. You had completely forgotten all about that, considering what went down the day before.

You sighed. “...No. I totally spaced”

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, exasperated. “It's due tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it eventually. It's only…” you glanced at the clock in the living room, surprised to see it was almost 3 o’clock. Had you really slept that long? “I got like 9 hours, I’ll be fine.” Knowing you, and how you had zoned out for most of your classes, you most certainly were not going to be okay. But it didn’t really matter much to you, anyways. Your grades had gone from bad to worse since the start of the school year, something the straight A, perfectionist version of you from before the blip would’ve fainted from. It was kind of scary to think that nothing really mattered to you anymore. That wasn’t something you liked to dwell on, though. 

MJ went silent for a second, and you thought that was the end of the conversation. “Come over,” She replied, a hint of firmness in her voice. “I can help you finish it – I think we both know it won’t get done on your own. Saw you sleeping in class last week.”

“It’s fine. I can get it done. I’ll just read the summary or some shit. Sparknotes always comes in clutch.”

“No, you’re coming over. I’ll text you my address. You better be here by four. See you!” And then she quickly hung up.

“Wait–!” You groaned, your phone buzzing from her message. After yesterday, you really didn’t want to interact with anyone, but a small part of you urged you to go. The same part that held an inkling of hope that you would get better, that things would somehow improve for you. A very small part. 

It’s not like things can get any worse. So you got up from the floor, rubbing your back from the fall, and made your way upstairs to quickly change. Maybe this was just what you needed. Something to take your mind off of what was happening. As you made your way to your room, your mind flickered back to earlier that morning, reaching into your pocket to retrieve the strange…object? You didn’t really know what to call it, but it was something you couldn’t just forget about, for some strange reason. So you tucked it away in your desk, hoping that nobody would find it there. Pepper might just get mad at you for disturbing the one place of your dad that was untouched, frozen in time. But she would probably never notice unless she went down there, which she never did. To you it seemed like she just wanted to forget about him completely, but that was impossible for you. Everywhere you looked, you were reminded of him. In the night sky where he took you flying with his suit, in his tech that could be found all over the city, hell they were even making a movie about him, about his life. That one pissed you off. Tony was quite a misunderstood man, and you doubted this ‘film’ would paint him in a flattering light. You loved him despite all his flaws. You just wished you had told him that one last time.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

“Wait – so basically everyone just dies at the end?” You stared in disbelief at the playbook in your hand as you lay on the floor of MJ’s room, laptop opened beside you as you worked through the assignment.

“Dude, how the hell did you manage to sleep through the whole play?” MJ questioned from her place next to you, shaking her head as she began to sit upright.

“My bad! It was so boring. And Langley’s voice does not help at all. Like, you can’t expect me to enjoy Shakespeare at 9 in the morning.” MJ rolled her eyes at you, standing up and stretching her arms wide. 

“Whatever. You almost done there?”

“Yep, just need to put the finishing touches…” your fingers glided over the keyboard rapidly, pumping out the last few words. “And submit! Happy now?” You questioned MJ, eyebrows raised.

“Very. Now what do you say?” She looked at you pointedly like one would a child, arms crossed. You huffed.

“Thank you, dearest MJ, for forcing me to do my assignment! Now I shall pass thy class with flying colours. I am forever indebted to you.” You declared sarcastically, clasping your hands together and sighing dramatically.

“Man…” MJ muttered, laughing as she flopped onto her bed. You made your way to sit in her desk chair, grabbing your phone to check the time. It was almost 8, and you glanced outside to see the sun setting. You hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. Although you hated to admit it, MJ was right. You definitely would not have been able to do the assignment on your own. It was nice to have a friend, of sorts. You had just met her the previous day, but it felt like you knew her longer. She wasn’t like the friends you had before. They were all uptight, stuck in their own worlds. You could never truly be yourself around them. The only person you ever really did that with, now that you thought about it, was Peter. It was weird how much you used to rely on him. He was the one who helped you with your assignments, who would coax you into finishing those Shakespere essays that you dreaded. Things were always better when he was around. 

Were. 

“What’cha thinking about?” MJ asked, putting her phone down and directing her attention to you. You looked down, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Nothing. Just remembered something – someone.” 

“Ex?” You looked up, furrowing your brows at her.

“How’d you know?” You questioned. Was it that obvious?

“You got that look in your eye. Something that you wouldn’t have for a friend.” Damn, she was perceptive, you’d give her that. “What happened?”

For some reason, you found yourself opening your mouth, answering her question. “It’s…complicated. Honestly, I’m not really too sure myself. I guess we both just…changed, and we no longer worked, you could say. I don’t know. He pulled away first, and I just wish I could understand what was going on inside of his head. I wished he would’ve talked to me instead of shutting me out. I was going through a lot, and I needed him, and he just disappeared, and it really hurt.” You stopped yourself from continuing, realizing how odd it must seem to be telling her all this. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear all of this.

“No, it's okay, I want to. I guess you haven’t said this out loud to anyone yet, have you?” You shook your head. It was silent for a while, neither of you knowing what to say.

Memories of the night prior came back, and you laughed bitterly. “You know, I was so angry at him before, but I think now I'm just…sad. We were together since we were 15, and it just felt like what we had meant nothing to him. I don’t get how it was so easy for him – to let me go.” You whispered the last part quietly, putting your head on your knees.

“Well, whoever this guy is, he sounds like a dick.” MJ stated in a tone that made you chuckle. You had gotten used to feeling like the whole mess was your fault, that it was something you did that made him push you away.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Look, you just gotta meet someone new – then you won’t think about him so much.” 

“Thats easier said than done. He was the first, and only guy I ever had feelings for. I don’t think ‘someone new’ will help if I’m still stuck on him. It just feels…unfinished? Like I can’t close a book that has no proper ending.”

You didn’t get to hear her response, as the doorbell rang out as soon as MJ opened her mouth to speak. Furrowing her brows, MJ got up.

“Be right back.” You watched her go, deciding that was probably time to go home, especially if her parents were at the door. No way would you want to converse with them and slip up about anything. As you gathered your things from the floor, you heard voices at the front door, footsteps following to MJ’s room as the door swung open, revealing two girls standing behind MJ. 

“Y/N,” She spoke, clearing her throat as she stepped aside, allowing you to get a better look at the girls. The first one you recognized as one of the spokespeople for the school news, but the second one you were unsure of. She seemed familiar in a way, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. Perhaps you had seen her in the halls. She was stunning, though – the kind of pretty that not many had.  “Meet Betty and Gwen. Gwen and Betty, this is Y/N. She just transferred to Midtown.”

The cheery one – Betty – stepped forward, smiling wide at you.

“Hi! It's nice to meet you. I didn’t think MJ was capable of making friends on her own.” 

“Hey!” MJ said, punching Betty on the shoulder, causing her to glare back at her friend. While this was happening, the other girl, Gwen, gave you a small smile. Guess she wasn’t as assertive as her other two friends. Much like you.

You greeted the two of them back, shifting a bit on your feet. Socializing was really your strong suit. You liked to stay out of the limelight, keeping to yourself. It was safer that way, especially now. Those you let in just seemed to keep hurting you.

“Uh, I should probably get going, it's getting late. But it was nice to meet you guys!” You backed up slowly, making your retreat. MJ’s hand on your wrist stopped your escape.

“Come on, it's barely even 8 yet. You can stay a bit longer.” You suspected that you didn’t have much of a choice. It was hard to say no to MJ – she was quite compelling, firm in her decisions.

“Yes, stay!” Betty added, latching onto your other arm. Now you understood how the two of them were friends – they both were similar in small ways. “I have like, a million questions for you.” You sighed, giving in and slouching back into the chair. Betty and MJ crashed into the bed, while Gwen opted for the floor. 

“So,” Betty started. “Why’d you come to Midtown?” What were you supposed to say? That you got kicked out of your old school because of your indecent behaviour?

“Uhh, I guess I just needed a change. It was Pepper’s idea.”

“Whose Pepper?” MJ asked, and to be honest, you weren't quite sure how to describe that relationship. 

“Stepmom, I guess?” 

“What do you mean?” Betty said, obviously confused by your answer. 

“I mean, she and my dad got married during the blip, so I never really saw her as anything but his girlfriend before.” They nodded, understanding what you meant – the blip had stirred up chaos in a lot of peoples’ lives.

“Where did you go before?” It was Gwen who spoke now, lifting her head from the ground. “What school, I meant.”

“Easton.” All three of them looked surprised, and you bit your tongue, sensing you had given a bit too much information.

“Damn, you rich or something?” MJ remarked, looking at you for an answer.

“Something like that.” You smiled sheepishly. “Not me per say, but my dad’s pretty loaded.” Was. 

“Ugh, I wish. I’ll just have to marry some rich guy.” Betty said, dreamily.

“Yeah, like anyone with a brain would want you.” MJ snorted. The two of them started bickering, while Gwen just sighed, looking over at you.

“Yes, they always do this, if that's what you’re wondering.” It was like she had read your mind. You wondered how she had become friends with such rambunctious people, considering she herself was more reserved, like you. You would’ve asked, but it felt weird to – you literally just met them a mere few minutes ago, and also barely knew MJ for 24 hours. Actually, it seemed you had more interactions in the past two days than since before the blip. Things were changing…maybe for the better.

Turning back to the conversation at hand, you noticed that Betty had stopped mid comeback when her phone buzzed, and upon checking it, her eyes lit up with a sort of excitement. More so than she already had in her. You wondered how she could have so much energy when you were on the brink of collapsing nearly every day. 

“Flash is having a party tonight,” Betty exclaimed. “We should totally go.” She looked around at the three of you expectantly, while you just furrowed your brows.

“Who the hell names their kid ‘Flash’?” You remarked, ignoring the question at hand.

MJ snorted. “His real name’s Eugene. He just makes everyone call him that. 

“I take it back. Who names their kid Eugene?” 

“Who cares what his name is? His parents are never home – which means free reign. Are we going or not?” Betty asked, growing annoyed. “Come on, remember how much fun we had last time at Brian's?”

“Fun?” MJ questioned. “We literally had to run from the cops while drunk. And I got caught by my parents and got grounded for like, a month. I don't recall that being fun.” Betty glared at her, unamused.

“Obviously that's not gonna happen again. Don’t be lame, MJ. I know Gwen wants to go, right?” She glanced over at her friend in support.

“I mean…”

“You-know-who will be there.” Betty winked, causing Gwen to perk up a bit.

“Fine. Only if MJ agrees, though.” Everyone looked back at MJ, who rolled her eyes, knowing there was no arguing with Betty. 

“Whatever. Y/N, you’re coming too.” You winced. Parties were never really your thing. Or they weren’t Peter’s. You used to go, but when he had expressed his dislike for ‘those’ types of gatherings, you stopped going. It never used to bother you – you would’ve rather spent time with Peter anyways.

Clearing your throat, you began to decline the invitation. “Nah, that's not really my thing.”

MJ raised her brows at you, as if she was trying to say something. You didn’t quite catch it.

“Look, you need a distraction – this is it. Just come for a bit, and if you don’t like it, we can leave, okay?”

You sighed. It wasn’t like you had any other plans for the night, anyways. And when you thought about it, it didn't sound like such a bad idea. It would help you get your mind off everything else, that's for sure. And you definitely needed a distraction after the week you’d had. 

“Alright, I’ll go.” Betty squealed, pulling you into a quick, but tight, hug, one you didn’t really return. When she pulled away, you remembered something, reaching into your bag to pull it out. “Pregame?” you questioned, taking a swig from your flask. MJ opened her mouth as if to say something, but shut it almost immediately, putting her hands up. 

“You know what, I’m not even gonna ask. Pass it here.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

“How much further is this guy’s house? We’ve been walking for ages.” You said as you trailed behind the pair, Gwen at your side.

“Chill, we're like, almost there. Anyway, as I was saying…” Betty drifted off into whatever she was talking about before, while you rolled your eyes.

“Should’ve taken a taxi like I said.” You mumbled, and Gwen laughed softly beside you, having been silent for quite some time. “You okay? You’ve been kinda quiet. Or maybe you just don’t like talking?”

“Nah, it's nothing like that. Usually, I’d be the same as those two.” She gestured towards MJ and Betty, who were now quite far away from you. “I’ve just been…thinking about something.”

“Something? Or someone?” You saw her lip curl slightly, and you playful nudged her arm. “Ooh, do tell.” Maybe other people were having better luck in that department than you.

“Well, it’s not like we're anything, really. I doubt that he even likes me.”

“No way he doesn’t like you. Have you not seen yourself? You’re literally one of the prettiest girls around here.” Her face flushed a deep red. Everything you said was true – it wasn’t like she could deny it. “How long?”

“Mainly, it started after the blip. That’s when I really started to notice him. We’re lab partners in chem, that's how we became friends. But I don’t know…he seems kind of closed off? If that makes sense. Like he keeps me at a distance or something.”

“I get that. My ex was like that, too. But guys are kinda stupid – you gotta make it obvious you like them. Is he coming to the party?”

“I hope so. He’s been at the last few ones, but I just don’t know how to close the gap between us.”

“Point him out to me when we get there. I’ll think of something to help you.” She hummed in agreement, smiling at you. Just because you were miserable it didn’t mean everyone else had to be, too. Or maybe you just needed more time to heal. 

Bullshit.

“So what happened?” You looked over at Gwen, confused by what she meant. “Between you and your ex. Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. Just curious.”

“It’s fine. To be honest, you’d have to ask him that. He pushed me away first, and I’m still confused. It's whatever, though. I’m not gonna beg for something that might have never even been there.” But there was something there, right? All the time you had spent with him had to have meant at least a little bit to him…so then why was it hurting you more than it hurt him? He was fine with not talking to you for months, he was fine with locking you out of his life, he was fine with things ending.

So why weren’t you?

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

“Okay, here we go.” MJ handed you a solo cup filled with a mysterious liquid with a pungent smell. It must’ve been way stronger than what you usually drank.

“What the hell is this?”

“Just drink it, trust me – it has a nice buzz.” Okay then. You took a gulp of the drink, quickly feeling the burn in your throat, letting out a cough. Yep, that was way stronger than what you had in your flask. But MJ was right. After a moment, it did leave you with a sort of haze, one you welcomed…one you needed. MJ smirked at you, noticing the euphoria coming over you.

She clapped your shoulder. “What’d I say?” You grinned back at her, or at least tried to. There were barely any lights in the house, only flashing strobes that made you a bit dizzy. The music was deafening, and you had to strain your ears to understand what MJ was saying. You had forgotten what parties were like. It’s not like you had gone to that many before. And they were a bit more tame than this one. People were everywhere – you had to intertwine your arm with MJ just to not lose her in the crowd, and you couldn’t even make out any faces, not that you’d recognize anyone, anyways. They all seemed to be Midtown kids, and you hadn’t really talked to anyone besides MJ all week. To be honest, it was a bit overwhelming to be here with all of these people, but you just drank more of your drink, trying to clear your mind and have some fun.

“Hey, where’s Betty and Gwen?” You realized the two weren’t behind you guys anymore, presumably having disappeared when you had turned your backs for a moment. MJ shrugged her shoulders, unconcerned.

“They’re probably around here somewhere. C’mon, let's go find them.” 

That was easier said than done. The two of you could barely squeeze past people, let alone be able to spot the other duo. Eventually, you found them nestled into a corner, chatting with some other people you, obviously, didn’t know. Approaching them, you stood by Gwen, letting MJ slip towards the group that had formed beside you.

“Is he here yet?” You asked her, sipping more of your drink, which was becoming quite sparse.

“I’m not sure. I can barely see anyone here. Why is there like, no light?”

“I know right? It took us a while to find you. I finally remember why I don’t go to parties.”

Nodding in agreement, Gwen squinted her eyes as she took in the crowd once more, not that it seemed to do anything. You decided to help her out - there was no need for her to be miserable like you, too. “Let’s go refill our drinks. Maybe he’ll be somewhere else.” Grasping her hand, you raised your cup, indicating to MJ that the two of you were leaving, to which she gave a thumbs up, or at least that’s what it looked like. You navigated through the crowd, not really sure where you were going as the number of people seemed to multiply by the minute. Eventually, you made it to the kitchen, which was now less crowded, groups of people having moved towards the main area. Finally letting go of Gwen’s hand, you looked through the assortment of bottles spread around the counter, impressed by the variety. As you poured the two of you some concoction, you turned back to Gwen, who now seemed more disappointed than before. 

Passing Gwen her cup, you realized you didn’t even know who the mystery guy was. “Hey, what’s this guy’s name, anyways? I probably won’t know him, but, y’know.” 

“Oh yeah, I didn’t even mention that. You might know him – he’s not that popular but…” She trailed off, her eyes locking into something farther away, and you saw a smile start to appear on her face as she waved at someone, presumably who she was just talking about. You turned back to the counter to put the lids back on the bottles, allowing Gwen a little privacy before you met this guy. You were quite curious to know what her type was, really. You could hear voices behind you, muffled by the music, and you took a swig of your drink before you went to face whoever was behind you. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for who you were about to see, though. It was starting to seem like all the odds were against you, because for some godforsaken reason, the same guy who used to cringe at the idea of going to a party, who preferred to stay in, was standing right in front of you, looking just as shocked to see you there, too.

“Peter, this is-”

“Y/N?” He furrowed his brows at you, unable to say anything else through his genuine confusion.

Fuck my life. You knew this was a bad idea. Every time you tried to make yourself feel better, you just got ten times worse. You would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the situation if you didn’t think you’d vomit all over the marble floors that lined the lavish kitchen. Poor Gwen just looked between the two of you as she tried to piece together whatever the hell was happening.

“How do you two know each other?" She questioned, but you couldn’t answer even if you wanted to. But by the looks on both of your faces, she seemed to quickly understand what was going on.

The beating in your chest, the music and – this, all added up, and it didn’t help that you were tipsy, either. You had to get out of there. Everything felt like it was closing in on you, and you were unable to even comprehend anything that was being said. Without a second thought, you dashed out of the kitchen and into the crowd, not bothering to look back when someone called your name. 

Where was the stupid exit? Why were there so many people? Fuck, what was in this drink? You couldn’t even think, and everyone was pressing up against you, your outsides feeling just as compressed as your insides. Pushing through the crowd, you whipped your head left and right, trying to escape whatever the hell you had found yourself in. 

Someone grabbed your hand, pulling you to the side of the room, and you sighed in relief when you saw it was just MJ, who was grinning like crazy. 

“You having fun?” She yelled over the music, and you wished you could just let go like her, but things were never that simple for you. 

“I need to leave, MJ. Now.” Her happy demeanor quickly changed, face growing stern.  

“What happened? Are you okay?” All you could do was shake your head, and she quickly understood, leading you out the back and into the yard, which was thankfully void of people. Stepping away from her, you could finally breathe, rubbing at your chest, which was still running a mile a minute. Fall was starting, but you were practically sweating, the cool air having no effect on your alcohol-ridden body. You could tell MJ was worried by the way she was standing still, and you were unsure of what to even tell her. If Gwen knew him, MJ would too. Had he ever mentioned anything about you? He had never even talked about them, ever. The only person you ever heard about was Ned, now that you thought about it. Were these people his friends? And if so, did he think that you weren’t important enough to bring into his life completely? Why are you thinking about this? It doesn’t matter anymore. 

Taking in a deep breath, you turned back to MJ, who was looking at you in a way you hated. The way everyone looked at you at Tony’s funeral, the way Pepper looked at you almost everyday. 

“I-I’m going to go home.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you stay. Don’t ruin your fun because of me. I’m just exhausted, sorry.” MJ looked at you pointedly.

“Don’t lie. What happened in there? You were fine when you left with Gwen.” You weren’t even sure what to say. The truth? That you were running from the person you once ran to? That you finally realized why he had pulled away?

“I wasn’t good enough.” You didn’t even mean to say it. You weren’t even looking at MJ, just thinking aloud, a quiet realization that broke into the bitter night sky.

“What?” You were just confusing her more, but there was no time to clarify, as the sliding glass door pushed open, and you saw Gwen peek her head out, eyes landing on the two of you, and she said something incoherent behind her before making her way towards you. What were you going to say to her? You wanted to be angry, but there was no reason to. 

Everything is your fault.

Gwen approached you, a little out of breath, and you felt your heart beat pick up again. There was no way you would be able to explain why you had run off without full on panicking. You wished that this was all a dream, that you’d wake up and be back on your couch at home, alone. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Gwen asked, genuinely concerned. 

“No, I-I’m not okay. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea, and yet I never learn my lesson. I don’t know what I was even expecting coming here. I…I should’ve known better.

“Is this about Peter?

“Peter?” MJ interrupted, trying to understand what had happened after the two of you left. “Where the hell does he come in here?” They both looked towards you, wanting some answers that you didn’t know how to give. As much as you hated him, the last thing you wanted was to turn his friends against him. This was between you and him.

“I–He’s–Ugh, how do I even say this. We used to…be together.” MJ raised her brows, connecting back to what you had told her earlier in her room. 

“That ex? Peter is that ex? Really?” She was still trying to process what you had told her. Guess it was hard to believe he could’ve done something like that. The old you wouldn’t have, either. Gwen stood there, her mouth slightly ajar, rubbing at her forehead. 

“Oh my god, I-I’m so sorry. I never would’ve said all those things if I had known–” 

“It’s okay, Gwen. Really. I was just caught off guard, but it’s fine. This isn’t on you at all. You don’t owe me anything, we literally just met.” You paused, taking in a deep breath and trying to stay calm. “I’m just going to go home before anyone else comes out here, okay? You guys…carry on.” The two of them looked like they wanted to protest, but how could they? They’d never been in your situation and couldn’t dictate your choices. If you wanted to leave, they had to let you. 

But before you could even pull out your phone to call a taxi, you heard shuffling by the deck, and the door slid open once again, and you could see what looked like Betty making her way towards your little group, with Ned trailing behind her along with…

Peter?  

Things couldn’t possibly be worse than whatever shit show was about to go down. You saw Gwen widen her eyes at Betty, noting that this probably wasn’t supposed to happen. Gwen glanced back at you, eyes apologetic, riddled with a silent plea. Don’t run. God, did you want to though. You wanted to push past everyone and make a dash for the doors, and run all the way back to your empty house, where you could just dwell in your misery. The three of them joined the clump that was forming around you, and you felt just as caged in as you did back inside the party. Everyone was looking at each other, but no one was brave enough to speak, unsure of what to even say. They were all confused, looking to you and Peter for answers, while the two of you just avoided even looking near each other. You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday, especially in front of all these people who clearly knew Peter longer than they did you. 

Betty spoke up first. “Is someone gonna explain what’s happening? Why are we all just staring at each other?” Hearing this, Ned glanced over at Peter, as if he was urging him to say something. He just glared back at him in return. Typical. You were fed up – you’d made it clear to him how you felt, and there was no reason for him to be here. Obviously he didn’t want to apologize, and neither did you. MJ and Gwen looked towards you expectantly, and you sighed in defeat, just wanting this to be over.

“Look, I don’t know what you guys are trying to accomplish here, but it's not gonna work, okay? Whatever happened was between me and Peter, and now it's over, so if you want answers you gotta ask him, because frankly I’m just as fucking confused as you. And honestly, I don’t care enough to find out anymore.” You threw it out into the open, not even caring what they thought of you. Their opinions wouldn’t change anything, anyways. 

Your eyes drifted towards Peter, who had decided to look anywhere except at you. The bruise from yesterday has disappeared thanks to his super healing. You hoped he was still feeling it, though. The way your fist sunk into his skin, stinging into his bones. Maybe part of you was hoping it had knocked some sense into him. Probably not. You weren’t sure why you thought anything you did would change his mind, change him back into who he used to be. It was seeming like that version of him had died alongside your father, dusted into oblivion where it could never be retrieved. 

Ned nudged Peter slightly, and you felt a little bad that they all had to be here. As much as you had begun to despise Peter, you never wanted others to feel that way, too. Just because things had become so shitty for you didn’t mean they had to be for him. Especially after everything he had been throu– 

Are you seriously feeling bad for him right now? What is wrong with you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw MJ giving Gwen some weird looks, trying to communicate in silence. After some back and forth, they seemed to reach some sort of understanding and Gwen cleared her throat awkwardly.

“I think I hear our song playing…Let's head back inside!” She motioned towards the doors, trying to get the message across, and Betty reluctantly grabbed Ned and began to head back towards the party, though she probably wanted to stay for the ‘drama’ and whatnot. Peter looked like he wanted to follow, but then MJ gave him a stern look, one she gave you not too long ago, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to escape. MJ nodded towards Gwen before they too followed the duo in front and disappeared back into the noise. Before she left, Gwen passed you a small smile, one you couldn’t return. You didn’t have it in you to fight with him again.

The two of you stood there for a while, both looking around and not at each other. You just wanted to go home, but the alcohol had given you some confidence, so after some fighting with yourself, you eventually spoke up.

“Is Spiderman off tonight?” You meant it as a snide comment, but you were also genuinely curious. Ever since everyone had come back, there had been less and less sightings of Spiderman. You hadn’t thought about it before, but you had barely heard anything about the arachnid since the press conference that was held. 

“Maybe he just needed a break.” You hadn’t expected him to actually respond. At most you thought he would just scoff and walk away like usual.

“A break? Since when do you take breaks? You used to go out on patrol every night.”

He finally looked at you, and even in the darkness of the night you could see something festering behind his eyes, a seed that had begun to grow. 

“Yeah well, the police exist. No need for me to be out there every night. People lived without Spiderman before. They can learn again.” He really had changed. You remember him fighting with Tony before, wanting to take on more responsibility, ready to give up everything for the suit. It was something you loved about him – his passion. Integrity.

“So you're quitting? Really?” You asked in disbelief.

He scoffed, jaw clenching.

“I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve never understood.”

“Why do you always think I won’t understand? My dad was literally Iron-Man. You think I don’t know what you have to sacrifice?” There he was again, undermining you as usual.

“No, you don’t, Y/N. Do you know what it's like to have everyone depending on you? Do you know what it feels like when everyone expects you to be the next Iron-Man, to save everyone? I haven’t felt normal since I got bit by that fucking spider all those years ago. So forgive me for just wanting to have a little fun sometimes. And who are you to judge me? Look at yourself.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean! You have every opportunity to succeed and you’re just throwing it away! Do you really not know how lucky you are?”

You? Lucky? Is that how he saw you? You stared at him dumbfounded, not able to comprehend what he just said. Then you just started laughing from the sheer stupidity of it all.

“Yeah, I’m so lucky, Peter. I’m so lucky to have no parents, or friends, or anyone! I’m so lucky that I get to live with people who spent the better part of the past 5 years building a life that has no place for me in it. I should just be grateful for it all, right? Because you’ve had it so much worse that nobody else can compare? You’re so full of it.”

He groaned, annoyance filling the air. “It’s pointless to even try and talk to you. You only ever see what you want to see. I know you think I’ve changed, and yeah, I guess I have. But you? You're still the same person you always were. The only difference is that now, I can see you for who you really are.”

“And who’s that, huh?” 

He didn’t dignify you with a response. He just kept looking at you with those eyes that cut sharper than the cold of the night breeze, before shaking his head and turning his back to you, inhaling deeply, and then he just… walked away. Back towards the open door that beckoned.

“Don’t walk away from me, Peter!” You yelled, yet not making any moves to catch up to his retreating figure.  

He turned back around, still walking backwards away from you. 

He smirked. “Just taking a page from your book.” And he disappeared, dissolving into the crowd that seemed to have grown rapidly since you’d left. You remained outside, more confused than you’d been before.

He has a point. 

Did he? Were you always like this? Had you just stopped trying to hide it?

You hated that you even considered that he might be right.

-

taglist: @never-stop-dreaming30 @shirp-collector-of-fixations @heartsforgr4ci3 @whimsicalforestfairy @wendee-go @alainabooks143 @spideyzzn

“Hey.” 

You turned your head, seeing Peter land on the rooftop, his suit long gone, now replaced by a hoodie. He took a seat on the ledge next to you, giving your hand a squeeze. You mustered up a small smile, before looking back out towards the city.

“You okay?” Peter asked, noticing the air around you. He paused. “Is it your dad?”

Laughing, you lay your head on his shoulder. “How’d you know?”

“I know you, Y/N. You always come out here when you guys fight.”

You sighed. “He just doesn’t get it. I don’t know how to make him understand. He’s so…stubborn, and set in his ways. I wish he’d at least try to be more open and realize that I don’t have to be what he expects me to.” 

“I think his mind is too old.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” You snorted. “He’d take away your suit.”

“Right. Don’t tell him. I kinda need it.” He looked around in false fear, as if your dad would randomly show up on this old building.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, soaking in each other's presence. You assumed that was the end of the conversation — it was always back and forth with Tony. He wouldn’t change, no matter how much you wanted him to. This was just something you would have to learn to accept. 

“Give him some time,” Peter’s voice echoed into the night sky. “I know it seems like he doesn’t understand, and that he wants too much from you, but you are his first kid. And it’s not like he had any good role models, either. I’m not saying his actions are totally justified, but you should look at things from his point of view. Just how he should with you.”

You raised a brow. “When did you get so smart?”

”Always been.” He smirked, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Shut up. I literally saw you web your own hand to the table last week.”

“Okay but listen, in my defense…”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You cried the whole way back to your house. Even though you tried to hold it together, you cried in the taxi, you cried walking the rest of the way to your house after getting out early from embarrassment, and you still cried even after the door slammed behind you. Everything you held in for weeks came crashing out, and you could no longer keep it inside. The dam had finally collapsed.

The tears only subsided once your head hit your pillow, the sound muffled, no longer echoing through your empty house. You never thought your night would end this way – maybe if you hadn’t left with May, you’d still be able to hold onto the illusion that things between you and Peter could work out eventually. That there was something salvageable. But after the night’s events, you became certain that bridge was forever burned, and you couldn’t fix it, even if you wanted to. It was time to come to terms with the fact that your old life died along with your father, and that just like him, it would never come back to you. 

But you didn’t know how to move on. You were stuck in time, unable to forget how things used to be, how your life used to be. It was strange to think that just a few months ago (in the sense), everything seemed to be going exactly how you planned, a stark contrast to the present.

You thought back to earlier that night. Maybe you had been a bit unjust, blaming Peter as the reason why everything cracked, but he was mean. That was never a word you’d use to describe the boy you used to love, and up until that moment you didn’t even think he was capable of being so harsh. This was the guy who literally sacrificed most of his nights to help the people of the city, the guy who could never let anyone get hurt…except you. 

It’s all your fault. You made him like this. Ruined him. You should’ve stayed away. 

He was right. You destroyed everything and everyone around you. A burden. And as you lay face down on your bed, you made a silent vow that once high school was over, you’d leave without a warning, no trace left behind. There was no reason for you to stay here anymore, really. It would be easier to just start over somewhere new, where nobody knew you, or had to be brought down by your actions. 

Typical. Always running away.

“Shut up!” You screeched, smacking the pillow as you lifted your head, unable to ever find some semblance of peace and quiet in your mind. Brushing your hair away, your eyes drifted over to your desk, where the small device had been laying ever since you had received it. 

Slowly, you lifted from your bed, travelling over towards it, as if some force was enticing you. Months had passed, and you delayed watching the message, not wanting to face reality, but now something inside you no longer cared. You owed it to your dad to do this. 

Deep breaths. You’d stopped crying by now. There were no tears left inside of you, anyways. Lifting the device, you carried it back over to your bed, sitting down as your finger loomed over the button. It was now or never – if you didn’t do this now, you didn’t think you ever would. The device was light in your hand, and you found it strange how such a small thing had your mind spinning back and forth.

You pressed it. In front of you, a projection began to form, Tony coming into view. It was so…realistic. Like you could reach out and actually feel him. He looked older than how you remembered him. His hair seemed thinner, and gray, something you had never seen much of before. A few wrinkles scattered his face, but for the most part, he still looked like your dad. The only unusual thing was that he was…content? Was that the right word? Unlike before, he no longer had the weight of the world pressing down on him. You knew he had hung up the suit after the blip, and it would’ve stayed that way if things hadn’t gone so wrong. For the first time since you knew him, your dad looked at peace with his past, with what had happened to him. He stopped struggling. 

He was sitting down, in his lab you assumed, his eyes boring into yours. You looked down, the eeriness of it all seeping in, and you pressed the button again to start the message. You weren’t sure what to expect. Did he know he was going to die? Is that why he recorded this? Or was it just some coincidence, some feeling within him that compelled him to do so? 

It began. At first, he didn’t speak. He was just looking down, then up, as if he was unsure of what to even say. Judging by his slightly disheveled appearance, it was probably recorded last minute, something that should’ve never existed. 

Tony let out a sigh, before finally directing his gaze fully upwards. He sat up straight, and slightly cleared his throat.

“We’re going to try and bring everyone back tomorrow…to bring you back. I almost didn’t agree. Not that I didn’t want you back. Of course I do, it's just…I thought that I had come to terms with what happened. That I was finally okay to ‘move on’ after five years.” He finger quoted. “But I don’t know who I was trying to fool. Truth is that even now, after all this time, not a day goes by that I don’t think of you, Y/N. You were the best part of my life, and when you…” He glanced upwards, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment. “I didn’t know how to feel, how to act. So I hid. I left my past behind, and tried to forget. I stopped being Iron-Man because I just couldn’t do it anymore. I thought that the suit took everything from me. But I lost sight of all that it had given me. Without it, I would’ve just been some arrogant, egotistical ass that had no purpose or direction. Actually, I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for the suit.”

He paused, and you sat there, motionless, unsure of how to react. It had been so long since you heard his voice, and it struck something deep within you, awakening it.

“When I was in that cave being held hostage by the Ten Rings, there was a doctor there with me – Yinsen. Not sure if I ever told you that, things have all jumbled together in my mind. One night he asked me if I had any family waiting for me back home. I told him no, and he said that I ‘had everything…and nothing’. He was right. I had all the money I could ever need, and my company was booming, but I had no one missing me. Nobody who ate dinner with me just because, no one to come home to, no one to really call family. It made me wonder what my life really was, if it really had any true meaning or value. If I died, the world would move on in a blink.

But then you came into my life, and everything changed. I had someone relying on me, someone who needed me. You made me a better person, Y/N. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, and I admit I should’ve done some things differently, but in the end, I wouldn’t take anything back. I’m glad you stumbled into my life because if you hadn’t, I would not be who I am today. And I can’t believe it took me so long to acknowledge it. I should’ve…I should’ve fought harder to bring you back. I shouldn’t have given up so easily, or accepted the fact that you were gone. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

His voice cracked a bit as he said it, eyes brimming with remorse. You wished he hadn’t felt that way. It wasn’t his fault. 

“I, uh, came into the lab for the first time in years. Something compelled me to, and you know what the first thing I saw was?” He held up a frame, a picture of you and him, along with Peter. You remembered that day. The three of you had been working in the lab for hours, perfecting some details on Tony’s suit, and Pepper had strolled in, and decided that was the perfect time for a picture. In it, you were situated on Peter’s back, laughing with him, while Tony wore an annoyed smile on his face. It was one of your favourites, and you had gotten it framed for Tony and Peter. A tribute, of sorts. 

To remember me by. You had told Peter that. He had responded with some remark about how your dad would always be watching him now, but you knew he loved it. You wondered if he still had it in his room. Probably not.

Tony looked down at the photo, rubbing his chin. “Looking at this made me realize that I couldn’t leave the two of you behind. I had to at least try to do something. So I did. I found a way, Y/N. I’m going to bring you back, no matter what. I wasn’t there for the first few years of your life, but I want to be for the rest of it. I want to see you graduate. I want to walk you down the aisle. I want to see you live. You deserve that. I can’t continue on with my life knowing that I could’ve done something to bring you back. And even though it took some thinking, I put my all into this – we're going back in time. Now, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or if it’ll even work, but I’m going to try. For you. 

I wasn’t going to film this, really. I was going to wait until we were back together to tell you all this, but something in me told me to, just in case. I have to leave you with something, at least. I want you to know, Y/N, that you mean everything to me. And I know that I don’t say it much, but I love you.” He laughed, quietly. “God, it's been five years since I’ve said that to you. Can you believe it? Your old man really is old now. I’m not cut out for this shit anymore, but for you, I’ll do it. So, hopefully, soon, you’ll be back with me, and we can all be a proper family. Oh, you might be a little surprised when you come back. Some things have…changed, a bit. But in a good way, I promise. I should go now. I think this thing has a time limit? Anyways, I’ll see you soon, Y/N, and, again, just for good measures, I love you.”

The recording halted, Tony’s smile lingering for a moment before the image vanished from sight. Your eyes were still locked into where he had been, and you realized tears had once again begun to stream. 

Silence. Until a guttural sob left you, and you broke down, this time much worse than you had before. Everything you had felt when you first found out about his death came back, and it was like you had been transported back in time to that very moment. Your chest felt tight, your lungs unable to function.

He was so optimistic. He thought he was going to come back. Little did he know that he would never see you ever again. His gut feeling was right, and you desperately wished it hadn’t been.

He shouldn’t have done it. He should’ve left you dead. You weren’t worth it. Tony died for you, and all you did in return was ruin everything. You made everything difficult for everyone around you. He deserved to be here instead of you, to be with his family. He had much more to give than you – it wasn’t fair. 

Why did it have to be him? After so long, he had finally found some solace from his past, from his struggles. The anxiety that plagued him had vanished, and he was no longer held back. All he ever wanted…he got just that. And then it was taken away. Because of you. If only he could’ve just moved on, and left you where you belonged. In his memories. 

You wondered what he would say if he saw you now. Would he be disappointed? Would he wish that he’d never done it, or even tried? You knew you could be better, you just couldn’t. There was nothing left within you to try to change. Whatever had broken couldn’t be fixed – pieces were missing, and there was nothing to glue it back together. Maybe this was how you’d always be – destroyed. 

Watching that message just made things worse, really. Your mind had more ammo to throw at you, to break you down further. It just made you more sad. Seeing what could’ve been if the events had played out differently.

“I’m sorry, Dad…” you choked out, quietly, a desperate attempt to ease your guilt. Chest heaving, you sunk back into your pillow, trying to stifle your sorrow.

I’m sorry.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The sound of the door bell ringing jolted you awake. Your eyes searched the room, groggily, mind blanking for a moment, until you remembered.

May. Fighting with Peter. Dad’s message. Crying. 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, or how. You had been crying, and crying, and then boom, you were now awake. Your head pounded, your eyes were dry, and you were sure you probably looked terrible. Grabbing your phone, you saw the time. 9:30. Who the hell would be so desperate to be at your door this early? Then below it, you saw a number of notifications.

MAY - MISSED CALL (4)

MAY: Please pick up

MAY: Did you get home?

And a few more like that. But nothing from Peter. As expected. You didn’t know why you thought anything would’ve changed – in fact, it was probably worse now. Even after all he said, there was still a small part of you that missed him. Just a bit. You missed your best friend, and being able to confide in someone who understood, someone you thought was like you. But after yesterday, it became clear that the two of you were no longer compatible. Time had changed you, and it was time to accept the fact that that chapter of your life was over for good. But there was still some presence of hope within you, as much as you wished there wasn’t.

The bell rang again, and you rolled your eyes, reluctantly crawling out of bed and stumbling down to the front door. For a second, you contemplated not opening the door, but curiosity got the better of you. Without checking, you unlocked the door, swinging it open, and you suddenly wished you had looked before. The stocky man stood in front of you, wearing an unreadable expression, which wasn’t good. You were unsure of what to expect.

You sighed, stepping back to let him in. “If you’re here to lecture me, Happy, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“Hello to you too.” He walked into the living room, plopping down onto one of the arm chairs. You sat on the couch, laying your head back, preparing for whatever he wanted to say. “May called. She was worried about you, so I came to check on you.”

“What else did she tell you?” You knew that wasn’t the only reason.

Happy’s face contorted slightly into one of discomfort. “She, uh, told me you and Peter had a…disagreement, of sorts.”

You snorted. “Yeah, disagreement, sure. Come on, Happy, I know she told you I punched him. Stop beating around the bush and say what you really came here to.”

He paused, sitting up to look straight at you, and he looked…worried. “Why? What happened between you guys? I thought everything was fine.”

You bit your nail. “I don't know.” Your voice was small, unsteady. “I don’t know why, but things have changed, okay? And I was just so angry yesterday and got ahead of myself. But I’m not sorry I did it. I’m glad I got it out, and I’m glad I can see clearly now and that I’m not deluding myself into believing in something that’s no longer there.”

“What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter, Happy. I was just mad that he was right, I guess.”

“Was it about Tony?”

You glanced upwards, narrowing your eyes. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does, Y/N!” His voice echoed slightly, and it surprised you. Happy was never one to raise his voice at you. “Over these past few months, I’ve seen you spiral out of control. Look, I know you’re hurting, but this isn’t what he would want, okay? He did everything to bring you back–”

“I never asked him to do that!” His message came back to mind. For you, Y/N. “I never asked him to bring me back. I would much rather that he be here instead of me. I know he did everything! I know. I just wish that he didn’t. He…he deserves to be here.” Your words sat in the air, expanding the tension present in the room.

Happy looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers, before he got up, moving to sit on the couch next to you. You shifted away. He looked out the window.

“I miss him too.” He whispered, glancing back at you. You couldn’t make eye contact, fearing you’d have another breakdown, and you didn’t want him to have to witness that. “You don’t have to tell me what happened between the two of you. But I’ll be here if you want to. I’m not gonna say I understand – I don’t, but I know you and Peter. You’ll work it out eventually, I’m sure.”

If only he knew how wrong he was. He didn’t know what had happened the past few months, or what had happened yesterday. He didn’t know how numb you had become, how you gave up on that relationship. But you didn’t have the heart to tell him. You just nodded your head a bit, before picking at your nails. Happy patted your shoulder, before getting up. 

“I have to do some things, but call me if you need anything.”

Yeah, right. 

And with that, he shut the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silent house, only your mind for comfort. You shook your head, heading to the bathroom to splash your face with cold water. It brought some energy into you. You were exhausted, even after having slept for almost 10 hours. It was the most you had slept all month, but you still felt more tired than usual. It was just something you’d have to get used to.

Leaving the bathroom, you made your way to the stairs to go back to bed, but stopped. A door caught your eye, one that you never dared to open before. The basement, where Tony’s lab lay. You’d never gone down there – the lab you had gone to was in Stark Tower, your home before the blip. But he had downsized. And you never had the courage to venture down there, afraid of what you’d find. Pepper never went down there, either – she couldn’t face it. But you felt it was time – what was one more thing? You’d already confronted much more in the past 24 hours than you had in the past few months. 

It took some pulling, but the door eventually creaked open, and you placed one foot on the stairs, trying to will yourself down them. One foot in front of the other, until you reached the end. It was dark, and you felt around for the switch, but the room already lit up, sensing your presence. It wasn’t too large – just an adequate size, one that satisfied your dad’s needs. And there wasn’t much in it, either. A few unfinished works lay scattered amongst the tables, a couple of computers and tech, but that was pretty much it. It was strange – you were used to the extravagance, but it seemed Tony had given it up. Shelves full of tools and boxes lined the walls, many of them dusty and some unopened, which was expected considering that he said himself he hadn’t even used it for years. 

You walked through the room, admiring the last remnants of your father, reminiscing. So many hours you had spent with him developing new technologies, or working on his suit, or just something. You’d do anything to get those moments back, to get new ones. When was the last time you’d gone into a lab? You couldn’t even remember. The time since the blip felt like years, days going by slower than ever before.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you noticed something…strange. Behind one of the shelves, there was a small uneven patch in the wall, like a button, almost unrecognizable, but you had seen something like it back in the old lab. Tony used them to hide things, usually something he didn’t want to fall into the wrong hands. But why would one be here, in your basement? What did he have that he had to keep locked behind a wall? You assumed it was probably just something he didn’t want Morgan to stumble upon by accident, but you still wanted to make sure. Without a second thought, you reached out and pressed the button, and for a moment, nothing happened, and you began to think it was just a mishap during building.

Then the wall in front of you opened, revealing a small room lined with…more boxes. There was no mystery here. Just extra storage. Great. You shouldn’t have expected anything else, really. Tony really had given it all up. Still, you walked into the room, rummaging through some of the boxes, looking for anything familiar. It was all just mostly tools, some half-made inventions that were scrapped, things like that. While searching, your foot accidentally knocked over one of the boxes on the floor, spewing its contents everywhere. You groaned, kneeling down to clean up the mess in case Pepper really did come down there, not wanting to make her any more angry. 

But as you put the things back in the box, one item stuck out. It didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the box's contents, which were all mostly scraps. This item seemed off. It was a small, sealed glass container, which was already strange by itself. There was no opening. And the weirdest part was that inside, there was some kind of black…liquid? But it didn’t seem all too fluid, more slime like, really. 

Maybe it's a chemical? But why would it just be in some box? And what chemical looks like this? It didn’t add up – your dad was more into tech than chemistry. You picked up the object, examining it, trying to decipher what it was to avail. You were stumped. But if you didn’t know, there was someone who could. Walking out of the room, you ventured into the main area, sitting down at one of the computers, tapping a few buttons, until it spoke.

“Good morning, Miss Stark. How may I assist you?” The robotic voice spoke, booming into the lab. 

“Friday, can you tell me what this is?” You held it to the scanner, allowing the computer to process it.

“I am sorry, but I am not quite sure what it is. It is hard to tell through its encasing. I haven’t seen anything like it.”

Huh.

-

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The week passed without any sort of incidents – after the bridge, and Pepper’s increasing questions about your hand that you couldn’t answer, you decided to lay low, to try to blend in. So you went to school, tried to listen in your classes, and came straight home to simply lay in bed and stare at the grey walls of your bedroom. You weren’t even thinking…just staring, mind as empty as a void. The device on your desk kept on beckoning, calling you to watch. But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t face your father, knowing what you had become.

He’d be disappointed. Just like everyone else.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Friday. Just one more day and it would be the weekend, and you could be free – for two days, at least. A small reprieve from your suffering. 

You still hadn’t talked to Peter. After that first day, you didn’t even look at him, deciding that if he wasn’t going to try, then neither were you. You were done. There was nothing left for you to give, to try. Every last drop of you had shriveled up, only a husk of who you used to be remaining. 

At lunch, you would hide away in the library, absentmindedly reading whatever book your eyes sought out first. It was always empty, which granted you a small amount of peace. Until today. As your eyes grazed over the pages, not really retaining anything, you heard the chair in front of you move, and someone sat down. Annoyance filled you, since the whole library was empty, and they could’ve sat literally anywhere else but here. 

Curiosity overtook you, and you slightly lifted your gaze upwards, trying to see who it was. You recognized her. She sat in front of you in English, and was extremely well-spoken when she did speak. Her hair was tied back messily into an updo, and she was staring back at you. No point in hiding it now. Slowly, you put down the book, and raised a brow. Why would she be sitting here? 

“Hey.” She spoke, as if she knew you. “You’re Y/N, right? First block English?”

“…Yeah?” Why was she making small talk? Nobody had tried to talk to you the whole week, which made you glad. You didn’t want to explain yourself to anyone. 

“I’m MJ.”

“Uh…okay?” Wanting her to leave you alone, you looked back down at your book, trying to appear uninterested in ongoing “conversation”.

“Why are you sitting here?” The girl — MJ, questioned. “Cafs’ on the other side of school.”

You closed the book. “Could ask you the same thing. Don’t you have friends?”

“Don’t you?”

“Just got here. And I don’t really do friends.” Take the hint.

She shrugged, a smirk tugging on her lips. “Well, maybe I don’t either.”

For some reason, your urgency to get away seemed to vanish, if only a little. For some reason, this girl wanted to talk to you. And you didn’t stop her. The two of you continued a light banter, and she didn’t press you for answers. She didn’t ask why you suddenly transferred, or why you were uninterested in making friends. She didn’t even mention your dad – that was a first. It felt like every conversation you’d recently had was about him. She treated you like a regular person, something that was rare to experience nowadays. 

Something was different about her. She never asked about the very noticeable purple blooming on your hand, or why you barely cracked a smile at her jokes. And you found that you didn’t mind her presence.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Pepper was gone. For the weekend, at least. Apparently, there were some issues at headquarters or something, and she went to go check it out, bringing Morgan with her. You doubted she trusted you to take care of her, which was probably for the best. You’d only mess her up. Just like yourself.

That's how you found yourself in some random grocery store, trying to decide what you wanted to cook for dinner. You’d deliberately gone to one further away from your home to kill time, but there was no point. Nothing sounded good to you – your appetite was almost nonexistent these days. There was always some kind of nausea looming over you. You also just found no comfort in eating anymore. 

You were about to call it quits, deciding to just eat some random food in your pantry, when you heard someone shout your name from the other end of the aisle.

“Y/N!” May. She waved, rushing over to you, basket in hand, and almost suffocated you with her arms. 

“Hey–May, I c-cant breathe.” You stifled out, and May loosened her grip, though it took her another moment before she fully let go.

“Oh, I haven’t seen you in so long…You never pick up my calls anymore.” She sounded sad, and you really did feel horrible, you just didn’t know how to tell her why you pulled away. You weren’t even sure what Peter told her. 

“I-I know. I’ve just been kinda busy. Y’know. School. And stuff.” You could tell she wasn’t fully buying your excuses, but she didn’t press. You were grateful for that. May ran her hands down your arms, and you wondered if she could feel your stiffness, the coldness of your body under your zip-up. It was only October, but you were already freezing, something that began ever since you came back. A lot of things had changed since then. Oftentimes you found yourself forgetting how things used to be, how you used to be. It was getting harder to remember, and it seemed like maybe this was all your life ever was. A faded memory lost in your mind. 

All of a sudden, May’s eyes began to light up, and you knew she was concocting some idea, one that you probably weren’t going to like.

“You should come over for dinner!” She beamed, shaking her basket. “I’m cooking. It’ll be nice to catch up.” You hoped your distaste wasn’t visible on your face. It’s not that you didn’t want to spend time with May, you just knew who else would be there. And judging by your (lack of) interactions at school, it would just be plain awkward. 

“I don’t know, May…I should probably get ho-” She cut you off, face growing stern. It didn’t look like she was giving you a choice.

“Happy told me Pepper’s out of the city. No more excuses – you’re coming.” Her features softened. “Please?” 

You couldn’t say no to that. Sighing, you reluctantly agreed, not wanting to destroy another relationship – you didn’t have many left. She smiled at you, one that made it feel like everything would be okay, even though you knew it wasn’t. Quickly paying, May led you out of the store, and you silently prayed that he wouldn’t be there, that maybe he’d get caught up doing something, or get stuck in patrol, or anything, just so the two of you wouldn’t meet. It was one thing to go to the same school, but to be in his apartment with his aunt? You didn’t know if you’d be able to maintain your composure, to pretend like everything was okay between the two of you. Maybe that's why May was so insistent – perhaps she could tell something was off, that something had cracked and shattered in your relationship. But what she didn’t realize was that whatever had happened, it was beyond repair. You doubted that anything could fix this mess you found yourself in.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Alright!” May exclaimed as she shut the oven door. The cooking process was tedious – you’d forgotten how terrible May was at cooking. You would’ve been done a while ago if it hadn’t been for the amount of times you had to redirect her and stop her from adding too much of the ingredients. And it would’ve been okay, except that there was now a giant mess sprawled across the counters. May grimaced at the sight. “Uh, maybe we should’ve ordered in…” 

Just slightly, you chuckled. Being with May did make you feel a bit better, so maybe she was right to insist. The cooking helped clear your mind, at least. 

Peter hadn’t appeared yet either, and you were beginning to assume he wasn’t going to come at all. May didn’t mention anything about it either. It was as if she was walking on eggshells around you, like one wrong move could send you flying. Which, it probably would. Even the smallest things irked you nowadays. It’s not like you wanted them to. You just found that with each passing day, it became harder and harder to hide your feelings and control your emotions. The switch was broken, leaving you hypersensitive to everything around you, like something was out for your blood. 

The two of you began to wipe the counters, trying to fix the chaos that erupted. You were a good team, working in sync, and soon the kitchen was almost spotless, maybe better than it had been before. There was one stain on the counter that wouldn’t budge, and as you put all your strength into getting it out, you heard May speak up from beside you. 

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?” She sounded weary, like she was uncertain, and you sensed that the oncoming question wouldn’t be one you liked.

“Sure. You can ask me anything, May.” Could she, though? You continued to scrub at the counter, not wanting to look her in the eye, because if you did, every wall you put up would come tumbling down. You couldn’t do that to her.

Her voice was quiet, a contrast to her normally loud tone. “Look, I don’t mean for this to come off the wrong way, and maybe I’m just reading into things too much…but did something happen between you and Peter?” And there it was. You stopped scrubbing, the rag shriveling under your squeezing hand. “You don’t come over anymore, or pick up my calls, and Peter doesn’t mention you either. And I tried to ask him about it, but he just keeps avoiding the question and gets a weird look on his face.”

Gulping, your eyes shut, and you rubbed your face as if that would give you some kind of answer. You weren’t sure what to even say – you didn’t know what had fully happened yourself. It wasn’t something gradual. It was sudden, like a snap. One second, Peter was with you and the next, he was nowhere to be found. There were no warning signs, just an immediate response, an outcome you never could’ve imagined.

Tell her. Exhaling, you braced yourself to finally face the truth, to tell someone what you had tried to deny for so long. Just as you opened your mouth, the words about to escape and will themself into creation, the jingling of keys caught your attention, and your heart sank.

Shit. Panicking, you tried, and failed, to see any way out of this situation. This was a bad idea – you never should’ve come here, or even left your house. You should’ve stood your ground and not succumbed to May’s invite. It was naive to think that he wouldn’t be here, in his own house. 

May’s head perked up at the sound, and she gave you an apologetic look. You’d have to answer her another time. But you think she already knew what you were going to say. 

“May, you home?” Peter called out, and once he rounded the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, not expecting you to be here. Confused, he glanced towards May, who only smiled and put her hands on your shoulders, keeping you from running away.

“Look who I found! Thought we could all have dinner together. Just like old times.” You could tell May was trying to keep things civil, but you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to last. Peter winced, but quickly covered it up with a small, fake smile. From the way he avoided looking at you, he was probably wondering what you told May. There was a small bruise on his face, indicating he had just come back from patrol, and you had a feeling that he wished he didn’t leave early. The silence that engulfed the room pressed in on all of you, daring someone to speak. A ding rang out, signaling that the food was done. 

“Who's hungry?”

This was going to suck.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You pushed around the food on your plate, your small appetite from before having completely disappeared. If you ate anything, you felt you would throw it all up in an instant. The three of you sat silently, the scraping of forks being the only sound present. You kept your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with either of them, especially Peter. The anger you felt only continued to grow – you had lied before. You did care. A lot. It made you feel stupid to care so much about someone who couldn’t even look you in the eye. 

“What happened to your hand?” 

“Huh?” Dazed, you lifted your eyes and saw May looking down at your hand. Shoot. You had forgotten to hide it like before. “I fell.” It was a terrible lie, and she knew it.

“You fell?”

“Yep.” She wasn’t going to get anything out of you.

“That looks pretty bad…I don’t think you can get a bruise like that from falling. What do you think, Peter?” For the first time all evening, he glanced at you. He knew you were lying—he’d gotten enough bruises from his night job to know that falling doesn’t create a bruise pattern like that. 

“She probably got into another fight.” He mumbled mockingly under his breath, so that only you could hear. Of course Happy had to open his mouth and spill everything about you. 

“What was that?” May leaned in, unaware of what he had said. Your eyes met, and he shook his head slightly, a smirk dancing on his face. 

“Nothing.” Under the table, you pinched yourself, not wanting to cause a scene. Keep it together. It’s almost over.

But when you peered back over to Peter, and saw no remorse on his face, you were done. Fork clattering against the plate, you let out a small, bitter laugh, running your hands through your already messy hair. Quickly, you stood up, the chair almost falling behind you, and you didn’t bother to push it in.

“Thanks for dinner, May, but I gotta go.” 

“You barely ate. Come on, sit back down.” She motioned to the chair, trying to keep everything from falling apart, but you were done with this crap.

“I'm sorry…I just can’t, okay? I’m not gonna keep pretending like nothing is wrong. Whatever you think happened between us, May,” You motioned towards Peter, “it's probably close enough to the truth. Please, don’t try calling. I won’t answer.” The dejected look on her face made you want to cry, but you held it together, because if you started, you don’t know if you’d be able to stop. 

Before she could say anything else, or even stop you from leaving, you bolted out the door, trying to get out of this godforsaken building, and this horrible night, and all of your actions. Down the stairs and out the door, the cold wind welcomed you, and you could finally breathe for a split second. Your feet moved fast, but as you left the building, a voice called out to you, one that made your blood boil and your heart harden. 

“Y/N, wait!” Peter ran out from behind you. Through all your chaos, you hadn’t realized he was following you. You were sick of trying to understand whatever was going through his mind, and you were done holding back.

“What, Peter? What could you possibly have to say to me now, after all this time?” You shouted, begging for an answer. But all he did was stare at you, his face holding an unreadable expression.

Looking up at the sky, you tried to hold back your tears, a scoff escaping your throat. “I can’t believe you, Peter. Even now, you're not even trying!”

Silence.

“My dad died.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. “And I needed you. I called, texted–I came to your apartment, and all you did was ignore me, and pretend like I didn’t exist for months. Guess he didn’t mean that much to you after all.” 

“That’s not fair.” Finally, he spoke, though a part of you wished he hadn’t. You made eye contact, daring him to continue. “You don’t get to make me the villain, alright? You weren’t there. I saw him die with my own eyes. I watched him take his last breath right in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything to save him. So you do not get to tell me how to feel, Y/N.”

“Stop acting like the victim! You think you’re in pain? How do you think I feel? He was all I had! You knew him what, 3 years? I knew him for thirteen! I can’t sleep, or eat, or even function anymore. Ever since we came back, I’ve been barely surviving. And you couldn’t even be bothered to just check up on me. I don’t understand, Peter. What changed?” Exasperated, you got closer to him, just wanting some sort of closure, some kind of explanation. 

He turned his head away from you. 

“Everytime I look at you, I see him. I see the colour fade from his face, I see the life leaving him, I see his cold body laying against the ship with his eyes wide and stuck.” He sighed, rubbing his face. 

“That’s it? Your only reason is that you're in pain? That's such bullshit.”

When he looked back at you, you saw his demeanour change. His eyes darkened, and he looked like someone you no longer knew.

“I don’t owe you anything, Y/N. Things change. I’ve changed-“

“You think I haven’t? Look around you – everything is different. But that doesn’t mean that we should just forget everything about who we used to be. Maybe you’re right. I wasn’t there. But you do not get to act like you're worse off than me. You don’t understand what it’s like.” You pointed a finger at him. 

“I don’t understand? Are you forgetting that I lost my parents too? And Ben? Get in line, Y/N. You’re not special, so stop acting like a bitch about everything. Happy told me what you’ve been doing. You think that’s what Tony would want?”

Your eyes widened. “Shut up, Peter. Don’t act like you know everything about him. If he were here, he’d be disappointed in you.”

“Yeah? At least I’m doing something—I’m not being a burden to everyone around me. You think Pepper wants to take care of you? She already has a kid. She doesn’t need you.” 

Shocked, you gaped at him. You never would’ve thought that he would ever say such things to you. 

“You’re right. You did change. You got mean, and bitter, and I don’t know how I ever loved someone like you. I wish you never got bit by that goddamn spider, I wish my dad never met you – I wish I never met you. And I wish I never had feelings for you, because maybe then everything would hurt less and I could move on with my life and forget that we ever happened. I regret everything.” 

You knew that hit a chord, because he didn’t say anything after that. He just kept looking at you with those eyes, colder and darker than you remembered. 

You thought it was over. Everything you had wanted to say for months had finally come out, and you had nothing left to give him. One last time, you looked him up and down, and turned your back to go home. 

“I can’t believe Tony died for you.” 

Stopping, you slowly faced him again, unsure if you had heard him right. 

“What did you say?” 

He looked more confident now, stepping closer to you. 

“I said,” he repeated. “I can’t believe he died for this. For you. It wasn’t worth it. You weren’t worth it. He should be here instead. At least he had something of valu–”

Maybe if you weren’t so sleep deprived, and maybe if you weren’t so pissed out of your mind, you would have responded differently. But you didn’t. 

You felt your fist connect with his face before you could even register what you were doing. All those months of anger had finally caught up to you, bursting out at the seams. You weren’t strong by any means, but you put all you had into that hit. He stumbled back, surprised at your reaction. You didn’t even know you had that in you. 

Of course, May picked that exact moment to come out, and witnessed the aftermath of your fight. From her perspective, it probably looked bad. You admit it was a lapse in judgement, but you didn’t care anymore. She could think whatever she wanted about you. It didn’t matter. 

“Fuck you, Peter. I’m done – we’re done. For good. I never want to talk to you ever again. You’re not the same guy you were before the blip. I don’t know what the hell happened to you, and I don’t want to find out.” Slowly, you backed away, but not before saying one final sentence. 

“I hate you.”

-

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“I cannot believe you, Y/N!” Tony scoffed, pacing the length of your room. You were really in for it this time. You knew better — you did, but you didn’t think it would cause your dad to react this way. At most you were expecting him to ground you maybe, or just a small lecture. But the expression on his face was something you’d never seen directed at you before. It made you want to shrink, to become as small as possible. 

Tony stopped abruptly in front of you, and inhaled deeply, as if to calm himself. But you didn’t think it was working. He just kept getting angrier by the minute. And when he finally faced you, his eyes bore into yours, as if he was condemning you for every mistake you had ever done.

“When have I ever stopped you from doing anything? I have almost no rules for you— I let you go out as much as you like, you can literally hang out with Peter every hour of the day, you go to parties… All I asked of you was one thing, one simple, small thing and you couldn’t even do that.”

Okay, you knew you messed up, but he didn’t have to keep rubbing salt in the wound. Now you felt he was just being absurd.

“Oh come on, dad! It was a party — of course I was going to have a drink or two!” You protested. “It’s like a right of passage. I can’t go through life without drinking every once in a while. And who are you to stop me? I’ve seen the articles, the videos. You drank more than anyone.”

The room went silent, and you regretted even saying it. It was a sensitive topic for you dad, you knew that. He almost never talked about his past with you… who he had been. 

Tony looked at you, exasperated, and just shook his head

“I thought you’d be better than me.”

And he left your room.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Guilt chided you as you lay in bed, scrolling on your phone. You shouldn’t have said that to him. All he ever wanted was the best for you, and you just kept on disappointing him. You wished you could be better, be who he wanted you to be. But for some reason you always messed everything up. Rubbing your eyes, you felt a headache coming on, courtesy of your, albeit light, drinking. 

You were about to get up, to go and apologize to your dad, when your door opened. Turning your head, you saw Tony enter, and take a seat on your desk chair. Sitting up, you faced him.

He was quiet for a bit, as if he was thinking of how to say what was on his mind. Absentmindedly, he rapped his finger against the armrest, only adding to the tension.You were about to open your mouth to say something, to fix things, when he finally spoke.

“My father, he…he never told me he loved me. Actually, for the longest time I didn’t even think he liked me. He always had this sort of contempt for me, I guess. Still not too sure, and I doubt I ever will be.” Tony spoke, his voice quieter than before. You didn’t remember Tony ever talking about his parents – the most he ever said was that they died. You knew next to nothing about them, except for anything you’d found online. It was strange that he brought his dad up now, but you remained silent, fidgeting with your hands as you listened, unsure of the message he was trying to imply.

“He was always working. And when he wasn’t working, he was drinking. A lot. One of the first memories I have of him is with a beer in his hand.” He laughed, a bitter, cold one that was full of disdain… and maybe regret? “I never wanted to be like him. He never thought I would amount to anything, and honestly? I believed him. And when he died, leaving me in charge of all of…this,” he waved his hands around, “I thought that I was becoming just another version of him. And I hated that idea. I…I wanted to be my own person. But I didn’t know how. So, I distracted myself, going to lavish parties and drinking and drinking and drinking…so much so that I barely remember any of my twenties. I tried so hard to escape him that I just ended up going in circles. Eventually, you know, I got my shit together and whatnot. But it took me a long time to fix my mistakes, to come to terms with what I was. And then you came into my life, and I promised I would be better, and that I wouldn’t mess you up like I had been.” He met your gaze, and he wasn’t angry anymore. “I just don’t want you to fall into the same traps as me.”

Now you realized why he had been so mad. All he wanted was to protect you, to keep you from making the same mistakes. To be better. 

“I’m sorry…I didn’t know that. I-I promise I’ll never do it again.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sometimes, right after you wake up, and only for a split, miniscule second, your mind is blank, and you’re able to believe that everything is okay. For that small moment, the things that plague your mind have yet to appear, and you wonder why there's a pit in your stomach.

Then you remember, and everything comes crashing back. And you wish you could erase your mind, to start over.

Today was one of those days. You awoke, and you didn’t even realize what day it was. You grabbed your phone, and your heart sunk.

It was Monday. You were starting at Midtown. Peter’s school. Silently, you prayed that you would not see him, but you knew it was futile. He would be there, and you would have to face him, and everyone else. It was one thing to randomly transfer, but one month into the semester? People would definitely have questions. And you did not want to answer them. You didn’t want to face the situation you had dug yourself into. But what choice did you have? You tried to rally Pepper all weekend, but she would not budge, no matter how much you begged. Maybe she wanted to torture you.

You took your time in the shower, letting the scalding water burn your skin, a penance for your actions. You let the steam envelope you, sink deep into your lungs and your mind, and cover the entire bathroom. For the first time in a while, you put some effort into how you looked, braiding your hair and attempting to cover your dark circles with some makeup. Looking in the mirror, you saw just how awful you looked. Your eyes seemed sunken in, and your face was pale, devoid of any warmth. And no amount of makeup could fix that. But you still tried. 

Just as you were finishing up, Pepper poked her head inside, and your eye twitched at the lack of a knock. However you said nothing, not wanting to cause another fight.

“You almost ready? The cars waiting outside.”

You nodded. “Yeah, let me just get my bag.” As you stood up, Pepper’s gaze fell to your desk, and you followed it to the small device sitting in the corner.

She sighed, something that you were being used to. “Come on Y/N. You still haven’t watched it? It's been months. Tony left it just for you.”

Reaching down, you picked up your bag, not bothering to dignify her question with a response. You wanted to watch it, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. So it sat on your desk, awaiting to be played. Grumbling, you pushed past her and down the stairs, slipping on your shoes before joining Morgan in the car.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Your head was going to explode.

For most of the ride to school, Morgan was going on and on about her classmates, friends and whatever the hell was on her mind. You didn’t even know kids could have that many thoughts. You had just wanted some peace and quiet, but every time you thought she was finished, she started a new topic.

“...And today, me and Sara and gonna–”

“That’s nice, Morgan,” you cut her off. Feeling bad, you added, “Could you tell me the rest at dinner? I kinda have a headache.”

She nodded, and looked out the window at the streets passing by. You sighed in relief

Quiet.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Morgan asked suddenly. Confused, you looked down at her, wondering what she was on about.

“Yeah…? Why?”

“Nothin’. It’s just…” She had this look on her face, as if she didn’t know if she should say the next words. She did anyway. “Daddy used to say that you were one of the happiest people he knew. Every picture I saw, you always smiled and laughed. But I don’t see you do that now.”

Oh. You hadn’t expected her to say that. And frankly, you didn’t have an answer for her. You tried to be happy sometimes, but you just didn’t have anything to smile about. It felt strange to even do so, foreign, even. When was the last time you genuinely laughed? Was it before everything went to shit? You couldn’t even remember. Honestly, the past few months had all been a blur, a smudge in your mind. To you, nothing really mattered anymore. 

What was the point of it all?

Shaking your head, you tried not to dwell on it. Your thoughts could be a prison if you spent too much time with them.

“I’m fine Morgan.” You tapped on the divider. “Let me out here. I can just walk the rest of the way.” Quickly, you jumped out onto the sidewalk and hurried away.

Running. Just like you always do. What would Tony say?

“I don’t know.” You whispered quietly to yourself, as the brick school finally came into view. Students were walking all about, talking with their friends…smiling. Pulling out your phone, you opened up your new schedule, courtesy of Happy.

First period English with Mrs. Langley. Great. 

You used to hate going to school. But, eventually, it had gotten better. You were able to make some friends, and you began to no longer dread Mondays.

Now? You had come full circle, back to where you’d started. Alone in a foreign place. Though you’d dated Peter for three years, this was the first time you would be going to his school. There was never really a need to before. Your old school had been on the other side of town, so the two of you just used to meet in the middle, or at either your home or his apartment. There was this deli by his building, and you would sit on his roof, eating sandwiches and talking about whatever. It hit you that you hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone in months. The only people you “talked” to were Pepper and Morgan, and even that was slim. 

As you headed for the doors, you kept your head low, not wanting anyone to notice you. Even though Tony kept you away from the press, you weren’t going to risk it. You’d had enough of questions and pity. You just wanted to be left alone, graduate and never look back. Where you would go, you were unsure of, but you knew you could no longer stay in New York.

Anywhere but here. This bustling city, the one you once loved, now seemed empty and idle…or maybe it was just you. Maybe you were destined to remain stuck and desolate, never being able to find any sort of path or direction out of your misery. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to get better, to change – you just found it hard to even try. Time and time again, you wondered what was the point of it all. Disappointment followed you everywhere - it was all you could do. Pepper would never say it, but you knew you were a burden to her - to everyone, really. Were they all just tolerating you? One more mistake, one more mess-up, and you would be cast aside, shunned? How much longer would you be able to lie to yourself, to keep pretending that you could do this? The rope that tethered you only frayed by the minute, and anything could set you off, make you-

“Y/N?” A voice came from behind you. Your heart almost dropped, until you recognized who it was (and who it wasn’t). As you were lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized you wandered to your locker –8907– and that you were just standing there oddly. You turned your body, clearing your throat.

“Hey, Ned.” He had a confused expression on his face, which was expected. There was no reason you should be at his school, or even be on this side of town at quarter to nine. 

“What are you doing here? Don’t you go to Easton?”

“Not anymore.” You didn’t expand. No need for details.

“Oh. Peter didn’t mention that.”

You scoffed. You didn’t know the extent of what Peter told Ned. Probably nothing. “Why would he?” His eyebrows scrunched. You could tell that just made him more lost than before, but you didn’t care enough to clarify. The awkwardness was palpable – Ned wanted to ask more, but by the lack of expression on your face, he thought against it.  “I, uh, gotta go…I’ll see you.” No, you won’t. You turned in some direction, hoping it would lead to your class. You assumed he had nothing left to say, but as you began to leave, he said one last thing, quietly.

“Sorry, again, about your dad…” Why did he have to say that? Why couldn’t he have just kept it to himself? Sighing, you turned back around, sick and tired of hearing the same thing over and over.

“Why?” You blurted. It probably came off as rude, but you genuinely wanted to know. “You didn’t kill him. You didn’t even know him. What are you apologizing for?”

Ned looked at you, dumbfounded by your response. Maybe you were right — he didn’t really know him, but he did know you. He thought he was just being cordial. It wasn’t his fault you were messed up. 

Everybody hates you. 

You stared at him, but he didn’t have an answer for you. You weren’t even sure what you wanted him to say. Sometimes you wished you would think before speaking, use some sort of common sense before opening your stupid mouth. Not wanting to be in this situation any longer, you rushed off, silently berating yourself for what you just did. He didn’t do anything to deserve your attitude. 

You don’t know why you were like this. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Surprisingly, you had gone through most of the day without seeing Peter even once, which left you feeling relieved. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Wrong. 

As you walked into your last period physics class, you saw him for the first time in months. He sat in the back, and his head was down, brown hair covering his face as he was reading something off his notes. He hadn’t seen you yet. You could still walk out, leave, drop the class–

The bell rang. You were stuck.

The second thing you noticed was that there was a seating chart. And that, conveniently, you sat right behind him. 

End me now. 

Why did this always happen to you? Why could you never catch a damn break? You would’ve preferred your old school to this hell. You considered telling the teacher you wouldn’t be able to see from back there, but you decided against that, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to move to your seat.

Don’t look don’t look don’t look–

You looked. You tried to use every muscle in your body to keep your gaze forward, but something inside you pulled them in Peter’s direction. He was already looking at you… and he didn’t seem blindsided. You assumed he didn’t know, but perhaps Happy had told him. What he knew of your circumstances, you didn’t know. Did you care? Did it matter? He knew. He knew you were coming and he didn’t even bother to ask, to reach out, to check up on you. If he didn’t care, why should you? Why be so worked up over someone who you no longer mattered to?

You wish it could be that simple, but you were never one to let things go easy. Your eyes met for a brief second, until he quickly diverted his gaze. His poker face had gotten better. But maybe he wasn’t acting. Maybe it really didn’t matter to him anymore. Why couldn’t you just move on like him – he seemed perfectly fine, so why were you dying?

You took your seat, and for the next hour your eyes burned holes into Peter’s head. You wanted answers, but you were too afraid to ask. Like always, you couldn’t face reality. 

You’re weak.

The relief you felt when the bell finally rang was insurmountable. You grabbed your bag and pushed past Peter, who still hadn’t acknowledged you, quickly darting out of the room, wanting out of this wretched school and horrible day. Checking your phone, you noticed a text from Pepper.

Driver got caught up. Take a cab?It wasn’t really a question – that was your only option. But seeing as you didn’t really want to go home and sulk, you decided to walk a bit instead. To clear your head. This time, though, you had a destination in mind. You pushed past people in the halls, not wanting to be here any longer than you had to. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ned, alongside Peter, the two seemingly discussing something important. You didn’t care enough to figure out what. Maybe he was telling Peter about what you had said this morning.

Everything isn’t about you.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Brooklyn Bridge.

You didn’t mind the long walk. It gave you something to do, some purpose. The sun was beginning to set, and you figured you had only a few short moments before Pepper began to blow up your phone. 

The view calmed you. When you were here, nothing else seemed to matter. The cold wind would brush your face, the sounds of cars whizzing by muffling your thoughts. For a short while, you would be able to actually breathe. You could forget who you were, and all the things that were happening to you. You could pretend you were a normal person, who wasn’t being crushed by the weight of their actions, by what they had become. As you stared out at the city, you longed to be able to turn back the clock, to go back and change all the things you had done. You wished you had spent more time with your dad, and less time arguing. You wished you could go back and stop him from sacrificing himself for you – it wasn’t worth it. He should’ve been here instead of you. At least he did something for the world, changed it, left an impact. You were nobody. You’d always be in his shadow, and you knew you couldn’t live up to what he had been. 

You wished you could go back and stop yourself from meeting Peter. Maybe then things wouldn’t hurt as much. Either way, you’d still be alone. The anger you felt only grew, and before you could stop yourself, you slammed your fist down on the metal railing. Pain radiated from your hand, but you didn’t care. You wanted a distraction, however cruel it may be. You felt the bruise oncoming, but you kept on going, until it became too much to handle. Looking down, you saw your hand turning red, and tucked it inside your pocket, noticing some passerby’s coming near.

You could try, and wish all you want, but you knew you couldn’t change what had happened, or what you had done. Not everything can be taken back. And you had to live with your choices. 

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