Saving Grace || Peter Parker

Part 24

Peter Parker had noticed a subtle shift the very moment Nadia Romanoff knew for certain her sister was dead.

Of course, she had suspected it. But she never had the confirmation. She never heard the dreaded words. Until she did.

Her whole aura and persona completely flipped on its axis. She became distant. She became numb. A part of her died too, he supposed.

It had been two weeks since she found out: Natasha, Tony, Vision, Gamora and Loki. And then apparently Steve too, since he fucked off back to the past.

Nadia had hibernated beneath her bed sheets, seeking comfort in her lonesome and the warmth the blankets required. The once obvious shine in her eyes had dimmed and so had the will to live.

She appreciated Peter though. He was doing his best. He made sure she ate, bathed and brushed her teeth. He made sure she drank at least a bottle of water a day and had human contact.

But, you could imagine his surprise to see her in the training room one morning. No warning. Just Nadia and a punching bag.

It was a routine. Step forward, balance your weight, shoulder forwards, punch. Pull back. Repeat.

She punched and punched until her knuckles were read raw, split and bleeding.

Then she stopped. And heaved. And sat down in a vulnerable ball by the foot of the dummy. Hands gripping the roots of her hair, an angered sigh tumbling through her broken lips.

Peter stepped forward, hesitantly. As if she was a porcelain doll, destined for downfall.

"I thought I was okay" Nadia began, still attempting to catch her breathe as her mind went into overdrive. "I thought I had said goodbye to her a long time ago, but- but I just can't"

Her head tilted backwards, tears rolling as she stared at the ceiling and sniffled.

"She was your sister" Peter whispered, as if speaking in a normal tone would break the sensitive bubble placed around them "saying goodbye will always be hard. Grieve, Nadia. Let it all out. Scream, shout and cry. Do what you need to. Be it's okay to grieve. You're not weak if you let yourself feel."

He kneeled in front of her, his hand placed on her knee as he rubbed in small circles. She looked at him then, she took him in. She focused on his breathing, counting his bpm. He was alive and he was here. He was here with her. And he was saying it was okay. That even in the sunken state she was in, with grey clouds and thunder storms looming above her head, he would be there. And she loved him for that.

"I miss her. I miss my family. I don't even know if Yelena is okay, I don't know how she's feeling- Natasha is dead and Yelena's all alone and it's all my fault" she cried harder, her head falling into the crook of his neck as tears dampened his shirt.

"It's not your fault- you couldn't of known-"

"I did know!" She protested "a soul for a soul, it was our mission, whatever it takes. It was always going to be her. We all knew it. She knew it, it was why she got me out of the equation before I could stop her- I would've stopped her!"

"But then it would've been your soul exchanged" he argued, stroking the hair out of her face and wiping her tears as he softly spoke to her "what you're feeling now, she too would've felt."

Nadia knew he was right, so she didn't bother to argue it. Instead, she sat there and allowed herself to get lost in his scent and his body warmth, eventually finding sleep in his arms.

She was peaceful now, he noticed. He would never get tired of looking at her. Her eyes were fluttered shut and her lips were slightly parted and she just looked so tranquil.

"Sleep tight, моя любовь (my love)" he cooed into her dreams and nightmares, soft spoken words flowing through her ears like molten gold. "I'll be here to hold you, I'll keep you safe"

Peter Parker had never felt this overwhelming urge to fight for someone other than Aunt May or himself. As Spider-Man, it was his job to fight for the world. But as Peter Parker, it was his job to fight for his loved ones. And here he was. He realised he'd do anything for Nadia Romanoff. And  he was okay with that.

He would set the world on fire and not late a single flame scorch her.