It had taken every ounce of Peter's self-control not to do this days ago, but now as his worn, silver dyed boots brushed against the overgrown grass that swung widely in the wind, a part of him wanted to turn around and run. Fear coursed through his body, starting in his stomach and travelling up to his head, clogging his thoughts and driving his imagination crazy. What he was about to do was no easy feat, and the young boy was absolutely terrified that it was just going to make matters worse.
The newly turned seventeen year old did not wish to repeat the events of the night the two teens were last together, couldn't bear to see the tears running down Jennifer's furious face again, didn't want to hear the tremble in her voice as she walked away. It was those things that had impacted Peter the most, not the accusations, not the shouting, but the slight of the usually composed girl breaking down as a result of his actions.
This was his fault, no matter how long it took him to realise, and he had to accept that even if this fractured their relationship even more, he owed her an apology, and it was going to take more than an 'I'm sorry'. He had gone over what to say thousands of times, rehearsing like an actor preparing their lines, but so much weight hung on his shoulders – he had to make this right, even if it was just for one of them, even if it ended up with him having to walk away.
Peter hadn't known what to do when Jennifer had stormed away from him on the street she had almost been ran over on. He wasn't sure if she actually knew what had happened, but it certainly hadn't made her pause and give him a minute to explain. Luckily, Laura Maximoff had dealt with many situations of the sort and had guided her son on what to do.
Unfortunately, there were consequences. As his mother had stressed to him many times, Peter was purely here to tell Jennifer that he realised what he had done that had hurt her so, and whatever happened after that was purely up to the teen girl. If she never wanted to see him again, he had to accept that, and despite knowing the chances of that response, Peter hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could be forgiven and they could go back to being friends, if not something more, but there was a slim chance of that happening.
Taking a deep breath, Peter took the final few paces to the metal door, feeling less and less confident as he raised his hand. He was here to apologise, and he had to be careful not to turn it around and start defending himself again, because the last thing either teen wanted was another debate. This wasn't for him, he had to keep reminding himself, he had to be okay walking away empty handed. With another inhale, Peter knocked the door, the vibrations echoing for a few seconds.
The wind decided to pick up at that moment, crashing against the metal exterior of the building before it once again died down. Peter waited awkwardly for a moment, wondering if the person inside actually heard his tapping. When met with silence, he begun to raise his hand to try again, but stopped abruptly when he heard footsteps nearing him from inside.
In over six months of residing there, not one single person had spared a second glance at the old abandoned building, so hearing knock was a strange occurrence for the sixteen year old who resided inside. Whoever was outside seemed to know that someone was in there otherwise they would've have bothered knocking, which didn't exactly fill Jennifer with comfort. It was fairly obvious to her who stood on the other side of the door, but she frowned anyway as she jumped off of the hammock and approached the door, hoping that maybe she was wrong.
She wasn't. The door slid to the side with the ease as she pushed it, and Jennifer was immediately face to face with the teen Maximoff, his soft eyes meeting her cold gaze. She would've rather the police been standing at the door, coming to arrest her for the string of crimes that gained her a place in society. But she couldn't change who the person in front of her was, so with a sigh of disappointment Jennifer turned away from the door but left it open to allow the boy in out of the cold – just because she couldn't bear the idea of being around Peter didn't make her heartless.
"Why are you here?"
Peter gulped at how monotoned her voice was, knowing that he had made it that way, but still kept his voice steady as he had practised. "I came to apologise."
Jennifer scoffed as she turned on her heel to face him. "You're sorry?" He nodded carefully. "And what exactly are you sorry for? Stalking me? Sticking you nose in my business? Hiding the fact that you're a mutant? Being a complete asshole?"
Now, Jennifer wasn't one to swear, what with her mother being a strict enforcer of the no foul language rule, but it seemed a fitting time to use the word, especially when it was true to the situation. While Peter seemed moderately calm and composed, Jennifer was fuming at the fact that he had come here and was now glancing around the warehouse curiously.
"Are you leaving?," he asked, trying to hide his worry as he gestured to the cardboard boxes that sat piled neatly on top of each other, making the interior of the place just as barren as the exterior.
"Say what you wanted to say then get out. This is none of your business."
Her voice was cold, verging on cruel as she chucked a piece of wood into the fire that was barely more than a few young flames, just enough to stop the volatile weather from chilling the place. She didn't owe Peter a single second of her time, and both of them knew that. They also knew she was on a fairly short fuse in light of the circumstance.
"I was wrong to do what I did, I knew that the second I did it. And I know you don't want to hear some stupid excuses because it doesn't change what I did."
Jennifer eyes were fixed on him as she sat back onto the hammock, listening intently to what he had to say.
"Truth is, you were my first real friend in years and I couldn't understand why you didn't tell me the truth, I thought I could help you." He gave a sad chuckle in a futile attempt to stay composed. "When I found this place, I didn't know what to make of it. I couldn't focus on anything except how much you hid from me, I felt betrayed so I did the same thing to you. Kept it a secret. I just – You meant more to me that I thought possible, and I felt like I was being played, that everything was a lie. I was scared, so I hid who, what, I was, and I think you did the same."
There was moisture in Peters eyes from his confession, but the only sign Jennifer had been listening was the way her eyes no longer held the same coldness, but rather a sadness. "I'm not hear to make you feel guilty, cause you're not, and I'm not asking for forgiveness either. I just wanted you to, I needed you to hear my lame motive, to understand, but now you know so I'll suppose I'll just leave."
This time Peter didn't look at Jennifer for a reaction, didn't expect any sort of remorse from her. There was no point in sticking around waiting for her to forgive him, not when she was clearly moving away, possibly because of his actions. There was something he needed to do first though.
Pulling two items out of his pocket Peter approached the former friend, placing the objects down on one of the boxes beside her. "Figured you'd want these back."
As soon as her gaze moved from him, Peter was heading out of the warehouse, not wanting to tease himself with the idea that everything was going to go back to normal any longer. Jennifer would disappear to wherever, the warehouse would be left empty and Peter would spend the rest of his life wondering how he let the most wonderful thing in his life turn into nothing but a memory.
Jennifer gingerly picked up the items, holding them delicately in her palm. One was easily recognised as the strip of red material that Erik had left for her, the material that she refused to part with, the material that she had accidentally left at the Maximoff house the night of the argument that she had longed for each day since. It was the only thing she had left from her past life the only tie she had to who was used to be.
It took the girl a few moments to understand what the other item was. Four images were lined up vertically on a strip of white photo-paper. The photos were clearly from the booth at the fair, but they didn't match the ones that she had. It was just the two teens, half eaten candy floss in each of their hands and goofy grins plastered on their faces. Jennifer remembered the moment but had been blissfully unaware of the fact that the machine was still taking pictures. It was impossible to deny how happy the two looked, smiles of adoration plastered on their faces as they looked at each other, teasingly poking on another in the stomach for a reason she couldn't quite remember.
The photos held a sentimental value, reminded Jennifer of that night, how much fun she had had. It reminded her of who she was – not a mutant, not a hero, not a lost soul. She was a teenager. That meant everything. Teenagers didn't know who they were meant to be, what they were meant to do and when they were meant to do it. Chucked in the deep end they had to find their own paths, figure out stuff for themselves, change their priorities based on how they felt at any given moment.
"Motivation is never a true feeling," Jennifer spoke softly, catching Peter's attention just before he walked out of the door. "It's always the result of something else, whether it be love, ambition...or fear."
Peter frowned at her, unsure what she was saying and what it meant.
"It was in my dad's journal. I never understood how important it was, why it mattered so much." With an inhale, Jennifer briefly shut her eyes as she recalled the blue book, fluttering them open as she began to speak again. "I can't forget that sense of betrayal, but I'm tired of living in the past, holding myself up to the ideals I once followed. None of this was meant to happen, none of it."
Suffice to say, Peter was absolutely lost. One minute she was giving him death stares and now, well, he wasn't sure what was happening anymore other than the fact that she had shimmied up on the hammock to make room for him beside her. In a confused daze, he wandered over and took the seat. He hadn't expected her to react so strongly to the photos, he'd only given her it because he realised he had both copies of it.
With a small chuckle, Jennifer faced the boy she had wanted nothing to do with for the past week. "I suppose now would be a good time to explain who I am."
"Yeah," Peter breathed, still blown away by the sudden change of heart. "I mean, only if you want to."
The girl nodded, finally sure of something. "I'm not going to hide who I am anymore, it only brings grief, and I'm fed up of trying to face the world alone."
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"You're kidding, right?"
Jennifer giggled. "Nope, all true."
"So you're telling me that you were born in nineteen forty six, saved the world without anyone knowing and then, what? Time travelled to last Christmas?"
Jennifer nodded at Peter's surprisingly simple summary of her life.
"That's so badass! Like, that's awesome, wow, just wow. Can I ask a question though?"
"Of course." Jennifer was well aware that she had just dumped a whole lot of information on him and was more than happy to help him make sense of it.
"What's your mutation?"
His voice was calmer now, proving to Jennifer that she could finally tell someone her truth. "Flight. I have wings." She paused briefly. "I might be able to transfer injures as well but I don't know."
The last statement pretty much fly over Peter's head as he was too concentrated on the first part. "You have wings? Where? I've never seen them."
"It's uh, they're in my back." That didn't really clear much up for the boy. Biting her lip, Jennifer met his eyes, preparing to take a leap of faith. "Do you wanna see?"
Peter gave a grin in response.
Carefully shimmying around, Jennifer slid off the hammock, pulling off her jumper as she went, leaving her vulnerable to the cold as she stood in her pair of dungarees and an old top that she had no issue with ripping, what with it already being worn and ripped in some places. "Promise not to freak out?"
Once he nodded with no less enthusiasm as before, Jennifer relaxed her shoulders. This was totally okay, this was a step forward, and she knew Peter wouldn't judge her or look at her differently. This was her facing her fears with her head held high.
The motion took nothing more than a single thought to start. The feeling of her wings spreading behind her was familiar and she hardly budged as they stretched to the roof. Peter however, practically jumped ten feet in the air, his mouth agape as he marvelled at the sight of the two massive wings extending from his best friends back. He couldn't fathom how they fit into such a small space, how Jennifer could pretend they weren't even there, but even in their size, they were stunning.
The light from the ever growing fire pit illuminated the large structures, showing off the different colours and the feathers the covered them. At one point, it was possible that the feathers may have been black, but they looked faded, now taking on a mixed pallet of greys. They looked strong and powerful, but nowhere near as amazing as the person that stood in between them.
Peter had never bothered to hide how much he cared about the girl, and even now that she had told her truth, revealed to him what she had done, he didn't feel small beside her, no. Being with Jennifer had always boosted his confidence and now it felt like he was a part of something bigger, and he could help the girl who helped save the world.
Once he regained control of his muscles, Peter jumped off the hammock, making his way over to Jennifer who never once let her eyes leave his figure, waiting patiently for him to say something.
"Can I touch them?," he asked, not wanting to overstep again.
Jennifer nodded, smiling softly. For the first time, she felt comfortable with who she was. When she met the X-Division it had been amazing to know that she was no longer alone, but she had felt exposed infront of the people she hardly knew. She felt safe around Peter though, and since he now knew every single truth about her it was stupid not to trust him.
His fingers brushed against the soft feathers delicately, sending an involuntary shiver down Jennifer's spine. Peter didn't seem to notice this, but it was impossible to miss the way her wings curled forward slightly, craving his touch which he happily gave, running his had across them, admiring the way they felt under his skin and the way they moved with him.
Jennifer couldn't stop the blush growing rapidly on her cheeks from the unique feeling. Sure, people had touched her wings before, Angel being one when she dyed them, but this was different. This was healing both teens, bringing them back together after their explosive outburst. This was the closest they had ever been to each other, at least spiritually.
For some reason it came as a shock Peter just how muscular the wings were. It made sense of course, there was no chance of getting off the ground without a push, but the idea just seemed so strange. Did she have to build up the muscle or was it always there?
"I'm sorry," Jennifer spoke, lifting her head to face Peter who looked at her in confusion. "For not telling you earlier, for not trusting you."
Peter moved back infront of her, his hands finally removing themselves from her wings, now resting at his side. "You don't need to a - "
"Yes. Yes I do," she cut him off as kindly as she possibly could. "I pushed you to do what you did and then blamed you for it, made you blame yourself when it was my fault all along. I just didn't know what to do, and honestly, I still don't. The idea of letting someone in just seemed insane at the time and the longer I waited the longer I thought I could go without having to."
"You were scared, I get that, I was too. You can trust me though."
Jennifer nodded and her wings dropped so they were just skimming the ground, her head dipping as well. "I had this plan y'know. I was going to make enough money to get me to New York then ask Charles for a plane ride home, it was so simple. Then I met you and it didn't make as much sense. I started spending money I didn't need to, trying to make my time here last longer."
She sunk back, resting her body against one of the pillars, still avoiding Peter's eyes. "Charles thinks I'm dead, and if I'm dead to him then I'm dead to the CIA, which means either they've told my mum what happened and she's buried an empty grave, or all she knows is that her daughter is a ghost story. I don't think I can go back home after all this time, can't pretend nothing's happened – it would break her."
With tears in her eyes, Jennifer risked a glance up a Peter who slipped his hand into hers in silent support. "I'm not sure if the past is worth the present."
"Well, you've packed everything up so I think you have your answer."
She shook her head. "I was upset. I thought my life here was over just because of a stupid argument, and I mean no offence with this, but I have so much more here than you. I have a job here, friends, a shot at a great life. There's nothing for me back home, I don't even know if my mum is in the same house anymore. I mean, imagine leaving all this just to be left empty handed."
Peter thought for a second. As much as he didn't want Jennifer to leave it wasn't his choice. He had come back and given the already troubled girl a whole extra load of confusion and confliction. "Maybe you could write a letter to her, see if she's still there."
Jennifer blinked multiple times, trying to understand why she hadn't thought of that herself. It was way cheaper than a phone call, and it would give her a definitive answer, tell her what she needed to know. What could possibly be the downside? "I don't have a return address."
"Use mine," Peter shrugged nonchalantly. "Send the letter and when you get a reply you can decide what to do."
It seemed a sensible idea. It gave her time to think, to understand why Peter meant so much to her. Of course, it also brought a few issues. For one, she would have to tell Will and her friends that she would be staying a bit longer. Looking around, a smile graced Jennifer's features.
"Are you telling me I have to unpack all these boxes?," she laughed, standing up straight again.
"If you want you can stay over, mom won't mind."
It was getting dark outside, and Jennifer was low on energy. "I might just take you up on that offer, at least for tonight."
Once Jennifer took some of her essentials out of various boxes the two teenagers stood by the door, hands still interlaced. As it turned out the sky wasn't just dark because of the time, but also because of the thick clouds that covered the sky, clouds that were ready to burst.
"Hey, uh, you never told me how you got those bruises." As he spoke, Peter pointed up to the still discoloured parts of her skin which, thankfully, no one else she had been in contact with had noticed.
Self consciously Jennifer reached up to touch the tender side of her body. "I uh, I flew into a pillar."
There was silence for a moment as Peter processed her words before he burst out laughing. "How did you manage that?," he managed to squeeze out between laboured breathes as he recovered.
Jennifer didn't find the story quite as funny. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I hit it as I swerved."
"Are you sure you saved the world?"
"Ha ha, hilarious."
It was insane to believe that the past week of distance, agony and questioning had been because of a clumsy accident. Jennifer had almost left the country without planning it through because of his reaction to her lack of attention to her surrondings.
Peering outside once more Jennifer shook her head. "It's about to pour down. We won't get to your house in time, and the buses aren't gonna come by for by for another hour."
Peter frowned at her statement. "I think I can get us home before it starts to rain."
Jennifer didn't quite understand what he was suggesting. Of course, their conversation earlier hadn't been one sided, and she had a firm grip on the fact that Peter was a speedster, but that didn't equate her knowing what was going on in his head. "I don't - "
"I've done it before with Maisie. It's totally safe, sort of."
Rather than focus on the physics or the probability of his idea working or the implications of his last words, Jennifer raised her eyebrows with a smile. "Bet that you can't make it there before the first drop of rain."
Peter grinned in response, wrapping an arm around her waist so he could take her with him. "You're on."
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W h y c a n ' t y o u s h o u l d e r t h e b l a m e
' C a u s e b o t h m y s h o u l d e r s a r e h e a v y
F r o m t h e w e i g h t o f u s b o t h
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Btw, the song above and in Heartbreak Hotel is How To Be Dead by Snow Patrol. I'm not gonna add it into the playlist cause I'm defo gonna change the dividers about soon but I felt it was quite fitting.
This book had reached 3K so thank you all. (Imagine me if this gets to 10K, I mean, I'd probably have a party.)
On another note, there are two things in this world that confuse me. 1). Tom Cruise was born in 1962 and 2). That somehow makes him 58 years old. Like what? 1962 to me was like 70 years ago.
On the subject of 'Confessions', I have officially ran out of back up chapters. I've got a few ideas and scenarios kicking around my head but haven't actually had the time to write them. I'm off again this Monday Tuesday so I'm gonna try and get at least one chapter done but if not I will regrettably not update next Friday. I'll give y'all the verdict on my conversation bit so if you want you can look at that. But fingers crossed I'll get it out.
~elizabeth