[for Pepper]

[daretodo]

It's been a long couple of days. I probably should've tried to sleep, but I couldn't. No surprises, there, I guess. Really, the biggest -- and only -- surprise is that I'm still invited to stay under this roof. After all the dumb things I've pulled in the last 48 hours, I thought Tony would've been glad to get rid of me...

But he wasn't. And I don't really know what to make of that, except that maybe he wants to keep an eye on me. Or maybe he really isn't angry, but I find that hard to believe. Once the rush of having been to another dimension wears off, I doubt he'll be so affable.

Either way, though, I'm alone, now, sitting at the dining room table with nothing save a cold cup of coffee for company. The sun's come up in the time I've been sitting here, but I can't bring myself to go to bed, It's a Sunday -- I don't even classes to rush off to. There's no reason to stay awake except to keep away from the nightmares I'm sure are waiting for me if I dare close my eyes.

I should shower, at least. Make myself look a little more presentable before Pepper wakes up, but when I catch movement in the corner of my eye, I realize it's too late. My fingers curl around the mug, as though to steel myself for the inevitable lecture.

"...hi."

Comments

[wildlyconflicted]

They keep doing this to her.

Try as she might to find some selflessness to apply to the situation, Pepper can never quite help taking it all a little personally in that irrational and implacable way afforded to mothers and wives. They're all she has, and for all that she's proud of everything they accomplish being superheroes, she also doesn't know how to get used to it.

She definitely doesn't know how to swallow Peter putting himself in danger for nothing.

Fortunately, a night's sleep inevitably helps with perspective, even if the sleep hasn't been that good. There's an unmistable pang in her heart when she spies Peter sitting there, alone, but she doesn't reply, not yet. Instead, she gently pries the cup from his fingers and carries it with her into the kitchen, where she begins making a fresh pot. It's better for both of them if she's got her feet under her and a cup of coffee in her hands before they begin this.

Several minutes later she returns, slides Peter's mug back across the table to him and then takes the adjacent seat. For a moment there's nothing but tense silence and the wispy curl of steam rising from their respective cups.

"I want you to understand, really understand, how angry I am with you right now, and why," she finally says, her fingers flexing against warm porcelain with the effort it takes to keep her voice even.

[daretodo]

I don't look up. I barely acknowledge the new cup of coffee, too busy appreciating the full extent of just how damn uncomfortable this is, because I deserve that much.

"I'm sorry."

It's the only thing I can think to say and the words escape me with the immediacy of a reflex. I inadvertently put a lot of people in danger with my actions, and for all that Tony was surprisingly quick to place a lot of the blame on himself, it's clear to me that I'm the biggest person at fault, here. It might've been his device, but I'm the one who used it.

I just didn't expect anyone to follow. Not that that's an excuse.

[wildlyconflicted]

She can understand the desire to be free of this place, has had moments when the helplessness of simply being on the island seemed to rage through her endlessly. She knows the pain of it, the loss, the perpetual turning of your gaze to a place you can no longer see nor be a part of. She knows about all of it, has felt it just as surely as Peter has, even if she's done a better job of keeping that part hidden.

But he's supposed to be smarter than this. He's supposed to know better.

"Why?" she asks, blue eyes fixed on his downturned face. "Why did you do it?"

[daretodo]

Because it was there, I want to say, but I don't. The lie would be too easy, though she'd see through it for all the wrong reasons. When considering the men in her life, I'm meant the responsible one -- the one with Jiminy Cricket on his shoulder at all times. I've more or less managed to keep my reckless side under wraps. Oh, there've been hints of it, sure, but there was always some greater purpose behind it. Saving a life. Saving several...

But I used to throw myself off the highest buildings I could find just for the rush of it. Would jump at the chance to join Reed and the rest of the F.F. whenever I'd get an invite to go off world. It's not a side of me that folks get to see here, though, because I'm not really Spider-Man, here, am I? And Spidey could get away with that excuse. With great power comes great responsibility, but that's not a lesson I learned on my first try. I've made mistakes. Stupid, arrogant mistakes that I regret to this day; sometimes I lose track of what I've learned and have to go over the same thing again and again until I remember.

And maybe this incident could've been shuttled under that umbrella of idiocy, were it not for the fact that my motives were born of less selfish place than the surface of the story implies. So I decide to tell the truth, because Pepper deserves that much.

"We, uh, had a video feed, during the test," I say, gaze lifting to stare at the opposite wall, "but I was the only one looking at it. Tony was... Preoccupied." I pull a face, and shake my head a little. "Anyway, I thought... I thought I saw someone. On the other side."

[wildlyconflicted]

There's really only one person that could be. Surely not even Johnny would induce Peter to do something so reckless; Johnny could, in theory, take care of himself. Mary Jane, while clever and industrious, is still just a normal human being like Pepper herself.

"But it wasn't her," she surmises, and presses her lips together as she looks down to the slowly cooling liquid in her cup.

[daretodo]

"No," I exhale, with a curt shake of my head. My thoughts wander back to the conversation I had with Wolverine, and I shut my eyes, tight, trying to will my own words to the back of my head.

"No, it really wasn't."

[wildlyconflicted]

That probably went without saying, but the emphasis carries its own weight. Pepper sighs and rubs against the bridge of her nose. Continuing to be angry is a little difficult when, were she in Peter's place, she can't claim she'd do things any differently.

"Do you think it was a trick?"

[daretodo]

"What, the Big Bad Smoke Wolf that looked like my wife?" I ask, casting a weary glance Pepper's way before I let my gaze drop back down to the table.

"Nah, that's just my life."

[wildlyconflicted]

Were there something comforting to say, Pepper would gladly say it. There's no balm, though, against a loss like this; time's the only thing for it, and apparently even that isn't a guarantee. That little sliver of crushed hope was surely enough to make the wound feel fresh again.

"Just…do something for me, please," she begins instead. "I know that you probably felt you had to act quickly, but if something like this happens again, please just get a second opinion before you go doing anything rash. Because what you saw on that video might not have been real, but Tony and I are, and we care about you, Peter."

[daretodo]

My second opinion would've been Tony, who couldn't even muster up enough anger to overwhelm his enthusiasm for going to another world for longer than a minute. I don't point this out. Call it crazy person solidarity or trying to spare Pepper more stress induced by yours truly.

I don't look away this time, turning to face more fully as she talks, trying to believe her words. I know they care, even if Pepper's the only one who tends to vocalize as much. Jessica's the closest thing I have to a blood relative (I think -- I've never actually looked at her blood to see if there are any underlying similarities), but Tony and Pepper are undoubtedly the closest I have to family.

"I know," I murmur, palming my chin, lips pressed against my fingertips. "I do."