Inheritance of ash

day three - part one

The words hit like a slap. Her whole body went rigid.

She didn't respond. Didn't argue. She just turned on her heel and walked out, her silence louder than anything she could've said.

Peter instantly knew he'd screwed up. The second the words left his mouth, regret churned in his stomach. He'd gone too far, and he knew it.

Vicky's footsteps echoed in the hall as she headed for the fire escape door, planning to slip outside and circle down to the garage. Her hand was already on the cold metal handle when someone tapped her shoulder.

She turned—and froze.

Natasha.

Her sharp green eyes were already scanning Vicky's face, searching, calculating. "What are you doing?"

Vicky's mind scrambled. She spat out the first excuse she could think of. "Uh—just... getting some air."

Natasha's eyebrow arched in that way that meant she knew exactly how much of a lie that was. She didn't call her on it, though. Just tilted her head slightly. She wasn't in the mood for more arguments.

Vicky decided in that moment she could just wait Nat out. Hide in her room until she disappeared somewhere down the stairs. She gave her a sheepish smile. "Forgot my phone in my room. Gonna grab it, then... yeah."

Natasha stepped aside, but her gaze lingered like a spotlight. "Fine. Just be downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Vicky frowned. "Why?"

"Therapy." Natasha's voice softened, just slightly. "You haven't gone in a while. It's important."

Vicky's mood dropped like a stone. She hadn't been expecting that.

"I don't—" she started, but Natasha cut her off gently.

"I know Bucky usually takes you. I know this is harder now, knowing he won't. But I'm here. And it's important you take care of yourself, too. After what you told me..."

Her hand landed lightly on Vicky's shoulder, thumb rubbing a small circle. The contact was grounding, tender, but also impossible to squirm out of.

Vicky's throat tightened. She knew what Natasha was hinting at next—what she always circled back to. Her self-harm.

Before Nat could bring it up, Vicky snapped louder than she meant to. "Don't."

The word cracked the air. Natasha went quiet.

Vicky didn't explain, didn't admit the real reason: she didn't want Peter overhearing. The walls in this place carried sound too easily, and there were some things she wasn't ready for him to know.

So instead, she forced a tight smile. "Fine. I'll go."

Natasha squeezed her shoulder, once, then let her go.

Vicky turned back toward her room, bitter frustration simmering under her skin.

Peter was still there when she walked in, perched awkwardly on her bed like he hadn't moved since she left. He looked up quickly, relief flickering across his face.

Vicky didn't give him a chance to speak. "Congratulations," she muttered bitterly. "You got what you wanted. I'm staying home."

Peter blinked. "Vick, what—"

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, saving her from answering. Kate's name lit up the screen. Probably asking what was taking so long.

Vicky sighed and typed quickly: Go without me. I've got therapy with Nat.