THE NEXT FEW WEEKS WERE DIFFICULT, TO SAY THE LEAST. FLASH WAS STRUGGLING IMMENSELY AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON DIANA AND HER FRIENDS. As she had expected, Flash had gone back to being physical. Not to Peter, he was careful about that—the boxing course of P.E. had shocked him into keeping a distance—but he was back to his old ways. He had gotten so much better that Diana had grown complacent; everyone had. Now it was back.
Diana revealed all her insecurities and worries to the school counselor during her mandatory meetings. After they had breached from her fight and onto other topics, she had quickly moved the conversation to her surrogate brother. How she worried about him, how she wanted him to get better, how much she loved him and how she, at times, wished she didn't because it didn't feel right to love someone who could hurt someone else.
"Are your feelings romantic?" she had been asked once during a session.
She had been quick to deny it, upset, but not surprised; many people believed them to be dating. When they learned she was living with them, their demeanor changed. They remembered who she was and then, suddenly, the conversation was at a standstill, the other person suddenly incapable of talking to her.
They had discussed that as well, the conversation turning to her parents and to the pain that she continued to feel despite everything. They also discussed the interview which the counselor herself had seen as well. It was during these sessions that Diana would cry.
Diana also talked to Nicky. The man had dropped off her supplies one day after the fight and when he asked how she was doing, she had burst into tears. He stayed for a few hours after, listening to her talk. When he left, he told her to text him and to never be reluctant to.
She did text him, but she couldn't help but feel guilty. He listened to people for a living and people paid him to; he listened to her for free.
Over time, Flash started to calm. It took a lot of talking and intervention, but one day, out of the blue, his physical bullying petered out again. By the start of March, he was back to how he had been before the fight. Still a jerk, but not physical.
Soon, things fell into a calm routine, much like how it used to be, only this time it included Diana's counseling.
"Your birthdays are coming up!" Gwen squealed, jumping in front of the two as they walked down the hall.
Diana jumped and latched onto Flash who jumped as well. Despite her size, Gwen was a force to be reckoned with. She had a presence that made her seem taller than she was, towering over others who were much taller than she.
Diana smiled softly. "Yeah, they are."
Diana and Flash were born only a week apart, their mothers having a dual wedding like they had planned since they were young. Diana was born on March 20th, Flash on March 27th.
When they were younger, they used to have joined birthday parties. It had stopped after they had both turned nine when Flash stopped having birthday parties altogether. Diana stopped as well, but for a completely different reason.
There was a picture that Rosie had on her dresser of Diana and Flash's seventh birthday. It was the only birthday where Harrison wasn't present which meant that it was the only one that went and ended as planned.
The picture was of the two of them, Flash with his arm slung around Diana's shoulder, pulling her close. The two were smiling widely, Flash displaying the front tooth that he had lost that very day. He had lost it in the bounce house when Diana accidentally elbowed him in the mouth. Instead of crying or getting angry like she had expected, he had shouted in pure delight, jumping out of the bounce house to show his mom, completely ecstatic.
That day was the first—and possibly the last—time Flash had ever called Diana his best friend.
"So..." Gwen drawled, drawing them out of their thoughts, "Are you two celebrating together?"
They glanced at each other. Gwen and Flash had known each other for years, their fathers both working together, but she had never been invited to his birthday parties, so she would never had known.
"We don't really celebrate our birthdays," Diana mumbled.
"Oh," Gwen said, "Sorry, I didn't know—"
"It's alright," Flash interjected, "It's not that big of a deal."
Now that Harrison was gone, they could have had a small get together in their apartment. It was the first thought Diana had and she knew Flash was thinking the same. But he wasn't going to mention it and she knew why; Harrison still had his hold over his son.
"Well..." Gwen said, trying not too seem to awkward, "Are you two opposed to gifts?"
"Yes," they chorused instantly.
"What?" she shouted, "No! Okay, I won't throw you a party, but you two better accept our gifts. You know what Harry's like and I'm the same way. I always bake for birthdays and you two are going to accept them, no arguments."
Diana shook her head. "Gwen, no, you shouldn't feel like—"
"Diana, I love you, but shut your mouth," Gwen snapped, though there was no bite behind it, "I love you both. It's already taking a lot not to throw you two a party, let me give you stuff! Tangibly show my love."
Flash smiled, teasingly. "You love me?"
She scoffed, cheeks pink. "I was talking about Diana."
Flash snorted and raised a hand to lightly flick Gwen's chin. She swatted his hand away, spinning on her heel, and stalked off. She turned her head back to call over her shoulder, "If you turn down my gifts, I will cry."
Diana and Flash sighed, glancing at each other. Gwen Stacy was a handful. A loving, caring, adorable handful. But a handful.
º º º º º
Peter Parker was a handful as well.
His visits weren't necessarily frequent, but they were common enough that Diana had long since stopped panicking and simply sat him down on her desk chair or on her bed and began working.
Sometimes, Peter was too tired or too afraid to talk. Other times, like that night, he took that time as an opportunity to run his mouth off.
"So it's your birthday coming up," he said conversationally. She hummed softly, trying to pretend that she wasn't paying attention. That didn't deter him. "What do you want for your birthday?"
"What do I want?" she asked, tilting her head, "I don't know. I mean...yeah, I don't know."
"Well," he said, "I have to give you something. I feel as though a t-shirt with some Pluto slogan isn't enough, though it does hold some significance to us and I know that you'd wear it every day."
She snorted. "Don't give yourself that much credit, Bugs, you're not that important to me." It was a complete lie, but she thought it was funny.
He huffed in mock hurt. "I'm wounded, doc. Thought you were supposed to heal me, not hurt me."
She shrugged. "I can do both."
"Seriously, though," he said, "I want to get you something. After everything you've done...I owe you something." He reached out and touched her shoulder, signaling that he wasn't joking.
She looked up into his eyes. "Peter, you don't have to get me anything. I don't want you spending money on me." She wanted to say that he couldn't afford it, but she knew she would be overstepping.
He sighed, then brightened. She couldn't help but smile. Peter was a smart boy and she had quickly learned—after many days spent watching him in the classes they shared—that that smile was the one reserved for when he just solved a problem or had a thought so extraordinary or exciting that he couldn't just be happy for it in his mind. The joy travelled to his face.
"So, I can get you something as long as it's not bought?" he asked.
She smiled. "I'm not saying you couldn't, but I'd prefer that if you had to get me anything. Don't feel like you do, though."
He bit his lip, tapping his foot. "Okay...what's the one place in New York that you would love to go?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
He nodded eagerly. "Yeah! I can climb walls and buildings, we can have some fun with that. C'mon, what's the point of having powers if you can't abuse 'em?"
She couldn't help but smile. "Well...this is going to be really cliche, but...I want to go to the top of the Empire State Building."
Peter's smile was manic. "That's perfect."
She laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're happy. Now stay still, I've wasted three bandages because you won't stop moving."
Peter shut up after that. He sat patiently, letting Diana focus on helping him. Over the near two months that she's been helping him, Diana had done loads of research, asking Rosie questions and googling everything she could.
As she worked, her mind started to drift, going back to Peter's original question. What she wanted for her birthday. If she was being completely honest, there was really one thing she wanted for her birthday. It branched on to a lot of various things, but it started with one, core desire.
It seemed as though all the boys in her life were reading her mind lately. Peter raised a hand to brush back her hair. "What's one thing you could have if you could wave a magic wand?"
She sighed instinctively taking his hand in her own. "I want to be okay. You know? I want to just not be so fucking sad all the time because then people will actually talk to me without acting like I'll explode if they say something wrong."
Peter shrugged. "To be fair, I don't think they mean to be like that, it just comes with the territory. I mean, did you know how to talk to me all those months ago?"
She shook her head, sighing. "No, and I hated that I didn't. I wanted to be the one to treat you the way I wanted to be, you know, but I didn't know. But that's exactly my point. I want to be like you, people talk to you normal now. You're not Peter Parker, the boy who lost his uncle."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
She bit her lip. "Peter, you bounced back. I mean, it hasn't even been five months yet, Peter, and you and your aunt seem to be getting along just fine. That's what I want, I want to be okay. It's been years for me, it's been months for you."
Peter looked down at his hands, his voice quiet. "You think I'm okay?"
She shrugged and nodded. "I'd say so."
He laughed sharply, shaking his head. "You don't know me, Diana. I'm sorry, you just don't. No one knows this, but I thought you'd get it."
He started to stand, heading for the window despite his still untreated leg, his mask fisted in his hand. She jumped to her feet, stopping him, blocking his exit.
"Peter," she said, trying not to be too loud, "Please, sit down."
"No," he said, avoiding her gaze, "No, because you don't get it. I thought that you, of all people, would get it, but you don't."
"What are you talking about?" she demanded. She didn't know what she didn't get, why he was so upset. She thought he'd be glad to hear that she thought he was doing well.
"Because I'm not okay!" he all but shouted, throwing his arms up, "You think I've bounced back? My uncle raised me and it's my fault that he's dead and you think I'm okay?"
"Peter, it's not your faul—"
"It is!" he shouted. She tried to shush him, but he went on. "I killed him and I hate myself, but it's not as if I can just go crying every day! My aunt and I have to work together, I have to act like it's okay because if I break, then she breaks. Diana, I act, but that's not how I feel, you of all people should know that!"
She stared, her mouth dry. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't think—"
"No, you didn't," he said, voice cracking, "You didn't think. I mean—how could you possibly think that I'm okay. It's only been a few months—I love being the Spider-Man, I love being a hero, but it still hurts every time I stop a robber because if I had just stopped one more. One more and my uncle would still be alive.
"One more and I wouldn't have to cry every other night. I wouldn't have to hear my aunt cry every night and sometimes even when she's cooking or when she's on the phone with her boss or the bank or our landlord.
"We're not okay, Diana. I'm not okay. I thought you'd get that."
She struggled to come up with something to say. Something to convey how she didn't mean to make him upset, but, in the end, she came up empty. She didn't know what she had said, why he was so upset. In the end, she was as scared and unsure as everyone else.
He sighed, gesturing towards her. "See? You don't know what to say. Neither does anyone else. That's not their fault and it's not yours."
She couldn't speak.
He leaned forward and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He pulled back and opened her window, throwing on his mask.
"I'll see you later, Diana."
It was too late by the time Diana actually moved and tried calling out for Peter. By the time she did, he was already out in the city, his leg still bleeding. She sighed and leaned out of her window, staring out into her neighborhood, wondering why she couldn't say anything, why she had frozen.
She just didn't know.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
WRITTEN: JUNE 13, 2017/PUBLISHED: JUNE 17, 2017
EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: I just realized that Flash has a car in Homecoming and he wouldn't have his license in time according to this timeline but whatever.
This just in, Peter Parker has emotions and Diana makes mistakes and doesn't understand stuff. Yay for human emotions.
I can't remember if I mentioned the picture of the two of them before (I searched and I couldn't find anything) so if I did, I apologize. If I didn't then, well...yay
Gwen's father was the police captain and Flash's father was a cop, so I just figured they would work together or at least see each other at the precinct barbecues or softball games or something.
Also...I screwed up the timeline. I had counted the release of Civil War as April, but the worldwide release was May, just like how it was in the first Avengers movie so saying Peter had his powers for 6 months (like it says in the Civil War script), with the May timeline is disregarding a month, but if I follow the April timeline, then I'm off in two aspects of the plot but...it's something we can overlook? I'll follow the May timeline but still say 6 months. Peter can just screw up dates when talking to Tony Stark.
That's all I have to say so...thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!