A WAVE OF CALM PASSED OVER PETER as he actively listened for Harley and Wanda's deep breathing to even out. Once he was sure they were fast asleep he entered the kitchen.
It was a small room, void of any colour scheme and only had bare and minimalistic décor.
Peter crouched beside the second cupboard from the right that was underneath the sink and carefully pushed the back panel; it clicked softly, and he moved it to the side with ease. There was a hidden gun that Peter quickly reached for, grateful for the familiar weight in his hands as he closed the cupboard door and stalked back into the living room. Cautiously, he peered out of the window. His eyes darted up and down the street before he rooted around in a drawer beside him.
Only his keen eyesight helped him locate the burner phone within a few seconds- the lights were still off, effectively hiding him from prying eyes.
For a split second, Peter's fingers hovered indecisively over the numbers before he typed.
The ring tone was dull and repetitive while Peter held it to his ear. Part of him wanted the call to go to voicemail so he wouldn't have to hear her, but the traitorous part of him craved her voice- it was always calm and gentle, somehow managing to comfort his mind just at the sound.
"How do you have this number?"
Despite the ominous tone, Peter felt his body go lax. He leaned against the wall, remembering their last conversation and the doubt that had clouded his mind. He screwed his eyes shut as he felt the familiar burn of tears and willed them away with all his strength.
"Hey 'Tasha." His voice was quiet and controlled so he didn't wake his sleeping guests.
"Peter?" Natasha's voice shifted, there was a lilt of surprise and something he couldn't quite wrap his head around, so he shook the thought away. "Peter where the hell are you?" She demanded. "Hydra is tracking you down- are you alright? Are the others there-?"
"They're fine. Sleeping, actually." Peter explained, glossing over her concern.
He didn't want to lie to her and say he was fine. Physically, he was all good- no broken bones and he wasn't leaking blood onto the carpet. But he felt strangely numb. Like he was detached from his own body and only just managing to cling to his sanity. The logic side of him knew he was mentally preparing, though the rest of Peter resolutely refused to recognize what was coming until the last possible second- he couldn't have a break down just yet. No, he had too many things to do.
"Have you heard from Barney?" He rushed out, halting Natasha's lecture. "Is he okay?"
"Barney's fine." Natasha soothed, unconsciously softening her voice. "Send me your location kid. I'll come and get you and we can talk and make a plan. Just, give me something here." Peter could hear Nat moving on the other end- there were other voices. He could just make out the deep tones of Clint and Tony; Peter's lip quirked upwards unknowingly as he continued to stare out of the window, noticing a couple walking down the street hand in hand. His attention drifted, the silence dragging on before Natasha's voice cut through, firm and almost desperate. "Peter answer me."
He blinked. Why had he called? Some selfish side of him knew he had just wanted to hear her voice. Peter didn't need to have called. But he had and now he felt his already shaky resolve crumbling to dust.
"Give me a location Pete."
"That's not why I called." Peter pulled himself together, distancing himself from his emotions as best he could. Every instinct was screaming at him to give in and have her pick him up.
Natasha drew in a breath. "Why did you call then?" No response. "You're scaring me."
The quiet confession from the assassin made Peter feel cold with guilt. He'd scared her. The woman who was unshakeable- who barely blinked at aliens invading her world or gods on her doorstep. She was unflappable, a pillar of strength.
Yet Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was scared because of Peter.
"I wanted to say goodbye." Peter admitted, "To say I'm sorry."
"Just come home." Natasha's voice shook; he almost missed the slight waver. "We can fix this together. I can fix this."
Peter barely fought back the flinch at the word. The last time they had spoken in person, it had sounded like he didn't have a home any longer with Natasha. They may have reconciled but the voice in his head wondered if it was all just for show; he liked to think she wouldn't be that cruel.
"It's not my home 'Tasha." The nickname slipped through against his will. "It can't be. I never should have been there it isn't my nature- I'm a tragedy remember?" At the self-reminder, Peter felt a tear roll down his cheek. No happy endings for Peter Parker, a sardonic voice in his head sang.
"We make our own stories Peter. No one can dictate our lives unless we let them." Natasha's voice was fierce and urgent. "You are more than what Hydra made you to be."
Another beat of silence.
It stretched on before Peter shook his head, looking at his reflection in the glass; he didn't recognise the person staring back with hollow eyes. He didn't like it. "Maybe." Peter conceded, tearing his gaze away and letting out a wet, humourless laugh.
"And maybe I was for a short time, but I can't be anymore."
Sensing the nearing end of the conversation Natasha spoke, words tumbling from her mouth like she knew deep in her bones it was the last time she'd be able to say them. "Peter please whatever you are about to do wait for me. I'm as good as your mother Peter and I'm sorry I wasn't better at it till now- just, please." she stressed. Peter felt his heart constrict. "Give me anything."
Swallowing thickly, Peter managed to control himself despite the confession.
Through his blurred eyes he could see a familiar black car slowly driving down the street- there were others dotted along, arriving at various intervals. One stopped in front of the apartment building and the headlights blinked off; it was time.
"I have to go."
"No Peter just wait-"
"- an address will be sent through in twenty minutes so you can pick up Harley and Wanda."
He didn't say goodbye as Natasha scrambled to hold him on the line- he couldn't stomach the words. But Peter still wished that he had when he heard the elevator rising, but he clicked the end call button all the same and turned to web the bedroom door shut.
It wasn't their fight, and Peter was determined to keep any and all of his family out of it.
A/N
Ah. They're back together- but in like the worst way possible, so sorry? I love how much Nat was fighting to keep him on the line and get him to come home but alas, we'd have no story if he did. :)
And it has just come to my attention that any italics I have on my original document hasn't transfered over and now I'm mighty annoyed but I also kind of think I prefer wattpad without italics because of the font. Oh well.
Anywho! Let me know of any spelling mistakes! xoxo.