I've been feeling a lot worse since the funeral. It's like I'm drowning. The more I try to reach the surface, the more the water drags me under. The little bit of optimism I had dissolved when Steve left. Everyone keeps trying to talk to me but I don't have the strength to hold up a conversation. Whenever I do talk, like with Peter and my friends at school, for instance, I don't say much. I've tried to act like my old self again but it's so obviously forced, I think everyone can see through the facade. It's just really hard to pretend like everything is fine when I'm in constant agony; when this empty feeling keeps weighing me down. It used to be so easy to hide my pain. I became an expert at it when I escaped from the lab at 12 years old and lived with the trauma of that horrible place for the next few years.
When I came out of the ice, my whole world shattered around me but I fooled everyone into thinking I was happier than I actually was. The only person who knew just how much I was suffering was Peter. However, he has his own grief to deal with right now, he lost Tony too. He doesn't need to worry about my grief on top of his, which is why I'm keeping him at arm's length. I'm keeping everyone at arm's length. This time it's different. This time it's a lot more difficult to put on a smile in front of the world. I was already on the edge when Tony died and Steve leaving was the tipping point. Something inside me snapped after that.
A knock sounds at the door, ripping me out of my thoughts. I don't say anything, hoping Pepper will get the hint and leave me alone. She knocks again. "Y/n? Someone's here to see you." Oh, gosh, why? I just want to lay here and grieve in peace.
"Y/n? It's me."
I immediately sit up when I hear a new voice. I know exactly who it belongs to. I slowly get out of bed and hesitantly approach the door. I stand there, just staring at the doorknob, debating whether I should open it or not. I take a deep breath and grab the knob, slowly opening the door to reveal Jonathan. He sends me a sweet grin while I stare back blankly. "Hey... can I come in?" he asks. I nod before trudging back to my bed and sitting down. He steps inside and sits next to me. "You haven't returned any of my calls. I came to check on you," he gently speaks. I stare down at my hands and shrug, not knowing what to say.
"Pepper tells me you spend a lot of time in here, that you only go to school then come back to lock yourself in your room. It's been three weeks, y/n," he whispers.
"What's your point?" I deadpan. He gives me a wary look as if he's afraid to break me.
"Look, I know that three weeks is a short amount of time and no one's expecting you to be fine by now... but it could help to talk to someone," he expresses, making me scoff.
"To who? To you?" I bitterly question. He gapes at me in shock.
"Maybe, it could help. I know what you're feeling, I've been there."
I gaze at him with a bitter smile. "This isn't the same... because I came back. I came back because I wasn't really gone."
"I know and I'm forever grateful for that... But it happened twice and both times were the most miserable times of my life. I thought I lost you, your return doesn't mean it hurt any less."
"Yeah but this is different. I came back. I'm here, you got me. Tony's not coming back," I snap. "I watched him die, I saw it with my own two eyes. And there's no way to bring him back." Angry tears well up in my eyes. Jonathan just stares at me with a downcast expression, making me realize how harsh I'm being.
"I'm sorry," I mumble.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it," he utters, taking my hand.
"I just miss him so much," I whisper with a shaky voice.
"I know," Jonathan mutters, pulling me into a hug. He strokes my hair in an attempt to comfort me. He used to do this whenever I was upset when we were together, and it worked every time. Gosh, how has it already been 38 years since then? And I missed five of those years, meaning that I didn't age once again while he got even older. Now we're even further separated by time. The hair stroking isn't affecting me like it used to. I think I'm beyond salvation at this point. This pain and feeling of drowning are beyond anything I've ever felt.
"I'm tired, Jonathan..." He stays silent, letting me vent. "I'm tired of this cycle. Every time I gain some happiness, it's ripped away in an instant. It's like I'm not allowed to be happy for very long."
"That's not true, you're going to be okay," he whispers.
He stays for about 30 minutes longer, just sitting with me in silence. Just that short conversation took up the very little amount of energy I have these days. I don't want to talk anymore. You're supposed to feel better after talking it out but I feel the same. When he leaves, I curl up in a ball on my bed, staring into nothing until I drift off to sleep.
I'm fighting an alien when I spot Tony kneeling on the ground with the Infinity Stones on the back of his hand. I fling the alien as hard as I can before flying down to the ground and jogging closer. I slightly furrow my eyebrows as I notice colorful electricity coursing down his arm all the way to his shoulder. "And I..." I hear him speak as he pants.
"...Am Iron Man."
"Tony!"
"Hey, kiddo."
"Tony... can you hear me?"
"Hey... Hey, please answer me... Please..."
"We did it. You did it, dad."
I shoot up, breathing rapidly and heavily. I look around, realizing I'm in my room, and try to calm down. I drop my head into my hands as I lightly cry, my body still trembling. Great, the same nightmare... again. I hear my door quietly creek open and I pick my head up, glancing at the door. There stands Morgan, timidly and curiously staring at me. "Hi. What are you doing here?" I sweetly ask. She shrugs.
"I heard you scream. Did you get hurt?"
I slightly smile at her innocence. "No, I'm not hurt. It was nothing," I assure her. She remains in place, still watching me. "Do you want to come in?" She nods. I scoot over and pat the spot next to me. She walks over and climbs on the bed, sitting on the edge. We remain quiet, I have no idea what to say to her.
"Do you really have superpowers?" she suddenly asks. For the first time in weeks, I genuinely smile. Pepper told me that she and Tony talked about me to her.
"Yeah, I do. Wanna see?" She eagerly nods. I open my hand, forming a ball of purple energy. Morgan gawks at it with a twinkle in her eye.
"Wow," she mumbles, making me giggle. "Daddy said people call you Amethyst."
"Mhm."
"Why don't they call you Lavender?" she asks again.
"Why would they call me that?" I chortle.
"Your powers are lavender," she simply replies.
"Oh. Well, yes, that's true. They're the color of a Lavender Amethyst gem, which is said to relieve stress and physical and emotional pain and promote peace. It enhances your mental power. Dad came up with the name... Besides, Amethyst just sounds cooler than Lavender so," I explain. Morgan giggles at this.
"He also said not to tell anyone you're Amethyst," she adds. Wow, Tony really prepared this kid.
"That's right, no one can know. That's how I keep my family safe, and that includes you now," I respond, gleaming at her. She returns the smile. I grab the remote from my nightstand and turn on the tv. "Do you want to watch tv with me?" I ask her.
"Okay," she answers.
"Okay... here," I mutter, pulling the blankets down and positioning the pillows for her. She slides under the blanket, making herself comfortable and I put on 'The Dick Van Dyke Show.' We sit together as we watch and Morgan laughs and asks questions about the show from time to time. Sadness washes over me when she laughs. She reminds me so much of Tony. She's managed to make me feel a little better and feel depressed at the same time. At least I had a few minutes of comfort. All thanks to Morgan Stark.
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I started this story before WandaVision and then when I saw Agatha's magic I was like 👁️👄👁️ so y/n's is also purple but lighter, like this stone:
Let me just go back to the first chapter and mention this detail for new readers to keep in mind 🏃🏻♀️💨