NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE βˆ™ Pete...

By vividparacosm

424K 25.2K 22.1K

"You're telling me that you got Captain America-the War Hero, Steve Rogers-to become best friends with a thir... More

β˜† ✸ β˜† ππŽπ“ π€ππŽπ“π‡π„π‘.
β˜† ✸ β˜† 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 πŽππ„: EGO.
β˜† Chapter One: Briefing
β˜† Chapter Two: Spy Kid
β˜† Chapter Three: Eight Mile
β˜† Chapter Four: Mister Miyagi
β˜† Chapter Five: Science Geeks & Baseball Freaks
β˜† Chapter Six: A Way to Pretend
β˜† Chapter Seven: Lizzie's Little Secret
β˜† Chapter Eight: Give Me A Break
β˜† Chapter Nine: 456 Hints
β˜† Chapter Eleven: Catch 'Em All
β˜† Chapter Twelve: On Your Left
β˜† Chapter Thirteen: LIZZIE
β˜† Chapter Fourteen: Parasite Lost
β˜† Chapter Fifteen: The Babysitter's Club 2.0
β˜† Chapter Sixteen: Agent Three
β˜† Chapter Seventeen: Bits and Pieces
β˜† ✸ β˜† ππ„π‡πˆππƒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒 β˜† ✸ β˜†
β˜† ✸ β˜† πˆππ“π„π‘π‹π”πƒπ„ β˜† ✸ β˜†
β˜† ✸ β˜† 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 π“π–πŽ: LOW.
✸ Chapter Eighteen: Peter Parker's Got a Problem
✸ Chapter Nineteen: Not So Little Lizzie
✸ Chapter Twenty: The Carter Clause
✸ Chapter Twenty-One: Play Ball!
✸ Chapter Twenty-Two: What's the Ultimatum?
✸ Chapter Twenty-Three: Eventually, I Will Be
✸ Chapter Twenty-Four: Not Delivered
✸ Chapter Twenty-Five: The Blindspot Project
✸ Chapter Twenty-Six: Juvenile Delinquent
β˜† ✸ β˜† 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓-πˆπ…...? β˜† ✸ β˜†
✸ Chapter Twenty-Seven: Intermission
✸ Chapter Twenty-Eight: White Ferrari
✸ Chapter Twenty-Nine: Captain America
✸ Chapter Thirty: DJ FLASH
✸ Chapter Thirty-One: Find-My-Peter
β—‹β˜† π‚πŽπŒπˆπ‚ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 vol. 1. β˜†β—‹
✸ Chapter Thirty-Two: Survivor's Guilt
✸ Chapter Thirty-Three: Friendly Competition
✸ Chapter Thirty-Four: Washington, D.C.
✸ Chapter Thirty-Five: Death of a Friend
✸ Chapter Thirty-Six: Smells Like Teen Spirit
✸ Chapter Thirty-Seven: Homecoming Queen
✸ Chapter Thirty-Eight: Back to the Basics
β˜† ✸ β˜† πˆππ“π„π‘π‹π”πƒπ„ 1.1: A New Year
β˜† ✸ β˜† πˆππ“π„π‘π‹π”πƒπ„ 1.2: Partner-in-Crisis
β˜† ✸ β˜† πˆππ“π„π‘π‹π”πƒπ„ 1.3: Who Are You, Really?
β˜† ✸ β˜† 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: END.
β˜† ✸ β˜† πŒπˆπ’π’πˆππ† 𝐈𝐍 π€π‚π“πˆπŽπ β˜† ✸ β˜†
β˜† Chapter Thirty-Nine: For The Record
β˜† Chapter Forty: Fire and Water
β˜† Chapter Forty-One: All Better?
β˜† Chapter Forty-Two: Friendship Bracelets

β˜† Chapter Ten: Co-Parenting Skills

9.1K 611 588
By vividparacosm

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𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙄𝙀.

───○ ○───

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍: Co-Parenting Skills

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍, 𝐃.𝐂. 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐁

𝟐𝟖 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘

───○ ○───


             Steve Rogers was, for the most part, very acquainted with the peculiar ways in which the thirteen-year-old's brain from Apartment 3B worked. After forfeiting the idea of running in the dreary rain currently washing over D.C., she decided to come knocking on his door with her hands packed an hour later—various items, from glitter pens to hot glue guns, were all unleashed on Steve's living room floor when she pushed past him eagerly. For the last two hours, he had watched her work on her artwork from his kitchen. A crease was forming in between her furrowed brows, and her tongue was stuck out in concentration for a better part of the adventure, and Steve's heart swooned.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready? It's Thanksgiving."

The marker lodged in Lizzie's mouth dropped.

"Wh—" she glanced down at her Fitbit watch and her eyes widened, and she pushed herself up quickly, ignoring the disarray of chaos she'd created on Steve's living room floor. "I need to get ready!"

She went for her ponytail, rushing to literally rip the holder (there was no better word to use) out of her hair and let her mess of tangles tumble down her shoulders. Steve watched in amusement, pushing himself off the kitchen island by his forearms. Then, after muttering a small profanity when she tripped over Steve's ugly rug, she stopped. Just before her hand reached his door knob, she whirled back around to look him up and down.

"Are you ready?" she asked, unconvinced.

Steve glanced down at his grey sweatpants and white shirt. "For what?"

"Dinner," she looked at him with a blank stare when his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"What dinner?"

"Thanksgiving dinner, duh, Steve."

He frowned, ignoring the spike of loneliness in his chest. "I'm not—"

"Wearing that out? Yeah, I hope not. Katie's got pretty low standards, but I don't even think that will cut it—" she hummed in disapproval, crossing her arms over her chest. Then, when Steve's face was still riddled in blatant confusion, her lips fell down and she looked at him softly. "Steve, it's Thanksgiving. You aren't going to spend the holiday by yourself. I mean, it's actually a really terrible holiday to celebrate, but..." she stopped again when Steve still looked lost. "Steve. Get dressed. We're going out for dinner. I decided to spare both of our lives by reminding Katie she can barely cook eggs."

"MJ..." he started, shaking his head when he finally realized what she was overing. "I appreciate the offer, but...spend time with your family."

Lizzie looked at him expressionlessly. "Yes. I know. That's what I'm doing. Why don't you wear those one jeans you had on a few days ago? They'd look nice with that blue jacket you have. Well, anything would look better than those ugly khaki's you wear—did you know kids my age call that a uniform? And they usually preform ritualistic sacrifices with them at the end of the year? Yeah. Burn the polos, too. Your old man is showing, Grandpa Steve."

Steve would have had a witty remark to that, but his mind was still struggling to understand the offer being generously thrown in his direction. He remembered the Thanksgiving he had last year—if you could call it Thanksgiving. Not a holiday, since he'd awoken, was celebrated. Part of him assumed that the festivities died back in the 40's for him, long before he ever understood what it meant to have a family to celebrate with.

"Just say okay," she urged kindly, giving him a tilted smile as she glanced his way.

He paused. "Okay."

"Great! I'm going to go get changed. Katie thinks that if we look nice, we can pretend that we're classy people, like I'm not going to order chicken strips at the cafe tonight—I'll see you in, like, an hour! You better not touch those khakis!"

And then she was off, ripping her hoodie over her head and nearly tripping when it got stuck.

───○ ○───

"This is a horrible idea."

"Would you relax? It's just dinner—ow!" Lizzie flinched, pulling her head away from Sharon when the curling iron in her hand got a bit too close to her scalp. "Jesus Christ, are you trying to turn me into Freddy Krueger?"

Sharon winced, muttering an apology as she pulled the iron away a little more and focused on doing looser waves. Lizzie frowned at the concern on her sister's face through the mirror. Her hair and makeup was already done, and the envy of how beautiful Sharon was tugged on Lizzie's gut like it always did. She wished she looked like her sister.

"Stop worrying," Lizzie muttered quietly, her mascara-heavy lashes showing when she blinked. "You won't even get the chance to talk. I'll be running my mouth the whole time, annoying both of you until you shove some pie in my face...gives you the chance to stare at Steve with googly-eyes, S—ow! You did that one on purpose!"

Sharon smirked, backing away and turning the iron off. "All done."

Lizzie shot up from the chair she had been sitting on that they drug into the bathroom, picking up her phone to check the time and cringed when she realized that it had been thirty minutes later than when she told Steve they would meet. She quickly sent him a text message, 'SORRY WE'RE COMING ASAP I'M TRYING NOT TO BE UGLY' and then darted in her room in record time to grab the heeled boots she'd picked out earlier.

Now listen—Lizzie was not necessarily a tomboy, but she would 100% say that her dad fulfilled his desires of having a son through her. Getting dirty and playing in the mud was always her favorite thing as a child. She loved playing with roly-poly's and fuzzy caterpillars. She loved dressing up too, though, and always loved the makeup kits she got from her mom from Claire's for Christmas. Lizzie liked to believe she was a well-rounded individual (with a bit of an ego and anger issues but that's entirely besides the point here).

Since moving to Washington, she hadn't had the chance to dress up much. She'd, for the most part, looked like an absolute pile of walking shit slung into a doggy bag. Her instagram posts suffered because of it (Aaron was probably not impressed)—but she'd redeemed herself slightly from her athleisurely outfits by pulling out her nice pair of leggings and an oversized white sweater. It was frayed at the bottom, and she could hear Grandma in the back of her mind asking, "why would you spent thirty dollars on something that's ruined?"

"You're going to break your neck."

Lizzie scowled at Sharon through her long-mirror in her bedroom, seeing her standing in the doorframe behind her already dressed. "My balance is amazing, thank you very much. They're not even that tall...they're like, a solid two inches."

"Hm, maybe you'll actually come up to my neck."

"I'm offended." Lizzie glanced down at the little brown boots once more and nodded to herself when she looked finished. "Okay, let's go."

Without another glance in the mirror, Lizzie turned on her heels and walked proudly past Sharon with her head held high, who watched with a tilted smile as her younger sister wobbled slightly in her shoes. There was a little tinge of excitement starting to built in the thirteen-year-old girl's chest, all but bouncing up and down at the prospect of spending Thanksgiving with two of her favorite people in the world.

She swung open the door to their apartment, halfway in route to knock on Steve's door when she stopped. Leaning against the windows across from their door was Steve, arms and legs crossed as he waited patiently for the two women inside. His head lifted and he stood up to his full height when the door opened, standing at ease like his drill sergeant was in front of him.

Lizzie's face brightened when she saw him, jumping more than walking over to him as she looked him up and down. "Look at you!" she gushed, grinning excitedly as she inspected his outfit. He'd listened to her (kind of) and put on a pair of dark jeans, pairing them with a nice button-up that only looked slightly like it was taken from a time capsule. The blue jacket looked good with it and hid most of the oldness.

His cheeks flushed slightly and he relaxed, glancing down at her with a quirk in his lips. "Look at you, speedy. You look beautiful."

"Speedy?" she asked, scrunching her nose slightly at the new nickname, before she glanced down at her outfit and shrugged. "Thanks though, Pops. I guess you don't look too old. I haven't done laundry in, like, two weeks so I had to pull out the nice stuff."

"As in, she pulled out her nice leggings," commented another voice from behind her.

Lizzie looked up to see that Sharon walked out of the door behind them, locking it behind her. A new shade of lipstick was on her face, catching Lizzie's attention. Just when she was about to say something, she stopped, her mouth forming a very low "O" when she realized what was going on—darting her head back and forth a few times between Steve and Sharon, she noticed that Steve's cheeks were flushed even more and he was giving the google-eyes to her sister. And Sharon was giving them right back.

"You look great, Kate," he complimented, nodding at her with a smile. "Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you for inviting me—"

Lizzie rolled her eyes and grabbed Steve's arm, beginning to move toward the stairs. "Okay, let's go. I'm hungry and I want Martha's pie. She said she'd save me a whole one."

Sharon shook her head and smiled under her breath, catching Steve's eye in the process. They shared a similar thought as Lizzie dragged him behind her, shackled to him in case she lost her balance and broke her ankle in the process. That would not be a good Thanksgiving.

───○ ○───

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍, 𝐃.𝐂. 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄

"I'm not hating on it! I just think that you guys could have been branded with a better name than the Avengers! Like something more appropriate for what you do, you know? How you guys are always there to save the day. Like the Pre-Avengers or something...the prevengers—"

Sharon cleared her throat, shoveling another forkful of peas. "Emily."

"What?" she asked confused, turning to her sister to see that Sharon was giving her an evil stare. Her brows furrowed. "What? What did I do? Steve knows I talk a lot. He doesn't care that I talk about his side hustle."

Steve smiled under his breath, concealing it with a sip of his iced water. Sharon and her shared side-eyes for the eighteenth time since dinner started thirty minutes ago, and only the sisters knew why. It was the first time that Sharon had seen Lizzie 'in the field' with Steve for more than five seconds, and every time Lizzie said something remotely confidential or compromising, she was pretty sure Sharon lost a second of her life and herniated on her stuffing.

"Maybe we can change the topic to something else," she offered, raising her eyebrows slightly in Lizzie's direction warningly.

"I binge-watched the entirety of Grey's Anatomy last night."

"Grey's Anatomy?" Steve asked in confusion.

"Yes," Lizzie confirmed, turning to him with a nod. "I'll add it to the bible."

Sharon looked between them in confusion. "Bible?"

"I'm making Steve a bible of the twenty-first century since he kind of sucks at it—sorry—" she apologized, giving him a wince but he only shrugged in agreement. "So it's basically got everything that he needs to know about the last few decades all the way up to the twenty-first century. I taught him how to FaceTime the other day. It was a big moment."

"Oh. That sounds like a good idea."

Sharon was being weird.

"So, Kate, how is work going?" Steve asked, his attention moving to her across the table and giving her a smile—except it kind of looked hesitant and more like he was about to stroke out, and Lizzie kind of felt really uncomfortable.

Ew. What was happening?

Lizzie barely registered his question, but Sharon seemed to be ready on her feet. "We've been pretty busy lately. I've been taking a lot more shifts just because the holidays make everyone a little bit crazier. It's nice getting to help people every day and save lives. I love my job."

Nicely played, Kate, Lizzie thought with a scoff. Sharon continued. "How has finding work been for you? Have you considered finding other jobs? I'm sure there's a lot of employers that would like to get their hands on someone with a resume like yours."

"Oh, uh," he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Been pretty boring on my end. Trust me, no one wants to get their hands on me."

"Hm. I'm sure there's someone out there."

Lizzie spluttered her water, choking slightly at the euphemism. What she assumed would be a short altercation with her and her drink turned into her half-dying as Sharon and Steve watched with wide-eyes. Her sister told her to raise her hands above her head, and she could see Steve considering which method of certification he should use to help her choking. Lizzie coughed, waving her hands and managing to gasp out slightly, "I'm fine. I'm going to the bathroom," before speed-demoning her way out of the awkward situation.

On her way to the bathroom, she waved at Martha who was busy serving the small groups of families around the diner who decided to come to have a meal together. Some were regulars, older folks, and all gave Lizzie a slight wave. Pretty much all of the regulars knew her and Steve by now. Just as she got to the doorway of the bathrooms, where a small alcove sat with a water fountain, she was stopped.

"Hey! MJ right?"

Lizzie paused after her last coughing episode ended when she heard her nickname. She turned around on her heel in confusion, wondering who in the town would call her by her name—no one knew her besides, like, two people. And they were flirting across the room. Then, she met eyes with a girl and recognized her from a few weeks ago when they briefly met at Liberty. She was pretty, her hair long and curly with dark brown eyes, and she reminded her for a moment of her best friend, Taylor.

"Oh, hey," she said, finishing her cough in her fist before smiling. "Sorry. I just had a fight with my drink. You're Shawn's friend, right? You were with the two assholes."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, they're definitely not my friends. Shawn's my brother. We all grew up together, so we're kind of stuck with them. They live in our apartment complex. I'm Casey, by the way."

"Shawn and Casey? Is your family baseball fans?"

Casey smiled at the question, moving so that a woman could move past her to enter the bathroom. Lizzie moved to lean against the wall so that they were leaving more room for others.  "Yeah. Well, Dad's a huge nerd about it. Shawn doesn't really care. You know Sean Casey?"

"Dad's a huge nerd about it," she repeated, shrugging when Casey grinned. "Runs in the family. I play softball so I fulfilled his wishes of having a son play in a way, I guess. How's Shawn doing? I've been meaning to text him to see if he wanted to hang out."

"He's good. He talked about you the whole way home. I think his boyfriend was a little jealous of you," and when Lizzie's brows shot up in surprise, Casey smiled slightly and nodded her head. She shuffled a little bit more into the wall when another person came into the bathroom, her voice lowering. "That's kind of why I stopped you. I was dropping some leftovers off for my grandma since she's working late tonight—"

Lizzie's eyes lit up. "Is Martha your grandma?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Just a guess," Lizzie grinned, softening up slightly when she realized the similarities in them. "She's sweet. She reminds me a lot of my grandma."

"We stop by here a lot before school to see her. We ended up going in late when we met. Um, I guess I just wanted to say thank you—you know, for helping my brother and everything. He's not ready to come out, and Carter and Anthony are fucking dicks about the fact that he's never had a girlfriend, so it was pretty cool what you did. I really appreciate it. It's been hard on him, you know, and you got them off his back for a while. Shawn thinks you're his guardian angel."

Lizzie flushed and looked down at the ground for a second, shaking her head. "Definitely not that. Just noticed he might need a little help. He doesn't need to thank me."

"I don't know," Casey shrugged, giving her another smile when she looked at her again. "You're pretty angelic to me."

"I was an angel for Halloween one year."

Casey's face scrunched. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," she grinned. "I was Iron Man the next year, if it makes you feel better."

"I'd pay to see that—"

Lizzie wrinkled her nose. "No, you really wouldn't. It was pretty rough. My teammates got a hold of that picture and put it on those big-heads for one of my games last season. I've been traumatized for a while because of it."

Casey laughed out loud, and Lizzie instinctively smiled at the sound. For the first time (well, maybe the second time after Shawn) she actually felt like she was connecting with someone in D.C. who wasn't twice her age. The feeling was comforting, and Lizzie molded a little bit more into the wall alcove as she got comfortable talking to Casey. She might be ignoring the flirting happening at the table between Steve and Sharon, too, but that was totally besides the point.

"So, you've clearly got an accent, where are you from?" Casey asked, crossing her arms over her chest with an accusatory stare. "Jersey?"

Lizzie winced, offended. "No. Brooklyn, actually."

"What brings you to D.C. then, Brooklyn?"

Lizzie hesitated, pursing her lips as she glanced over to the table where she could see Sharon and Steve smiling mid-conversation. They looked happy, and she was grateful that they were being given the opportunity to talk with one another for more than five minutes—sorry, Fury, but she needed their co-parenting skills required communication amongst one another if they were going to handle raising her for a few months.

"My sister came here for work, and I tagged along," she explained finally, nodding slightly in the direction of the table where Sharon sat. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, feeling a bit shy—which was not like her at all. "I actually think you're the first person my age I've talked to since I moved here. I've become great friends with people old enough to be my parent... or at least an uncle."

Casey looked surprised at that, tilting her head. "You're not going to school?"

"Ah, homeschooled."

Lizzie's gut hurt. She hated lying.

"Oh. That makes sense," she nodded. Then Casey paused, contemplating something. "Well, if you ever get bored after your homeschooling and want to hang out, I'll be your first friend under the age of eighteen...um, I'm gonna let you get back to your family. My mom will be mad if I don't get home soon to eat her failed attempt at pumpkin pie...but yeah. Thanks again."

Lizzie nodded, still smiling as she watched her turn to walk away. Just before she exited the small little alcove for the bathrooms, Casey turned back around on her heel to give her another grin. "Oh, hope you don't mind that I already stole your number from Shawn's phone. You look really pretty tonight, by the way, Brooklyn. I'll text you soon."

Then Casey turned around, giving her grandmother a kiss on the cheek goodbye and exiting out the diner without another glance back at Lizzie. For a moment, she stood there a bit stunted, then she quickly recovered with a smile to the floor all the way back to her dining table. Steve and Sharon looked up when they saw her, their conversation lulled, and her sister raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"Did you sneak a whole pie on your way to the bathroom or something? You're grinning like crazy."

Lizzie's smile fell and she scowled at her sister, plopping down to her seat. "Can't I enjoy spending time with my co-parents on a national holiday?"

"You ran away from us."

"You guys were giving each other googly-eyes. I don't need a sibling right now, Mom," Lizzie huffed out, taking a stab at her pie in a mumbled bout of childlike frustration. She heard Steve choke on his water this time, and she narrowed her eyes on him. "Oh, don't even get me started on you, Dad." 

───○ ○───

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍, 𝐃.𝐂. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟑𝟎 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑

"MA!"

Lizzie Carter had never ran faster in her life than when she saw her mom step out of the passenger seat of their family four-door Sudan in the Sunrise Senior Living parking lot. The woman barely hit the concrete before her daughter was tackling her into a hug, squeezing the life out of her the moment that she recognized the car. Sophia Carter managed to recuperate quickly though, and instantly folded herself around her youngest daughter, making it her mission to now squeeze the life out of her as well.

"Lizziebug," she sniffled into her daughter's ear, squeezing tighter. "I missed you so much."

Lizzie squeezed her tighter before leaning back in an attempt to pull away. "Okay. Okay, Ma. You're suffocating me. I can't breathe—"

"—I don't care. I haven't seen you in months."

"—Ma, it's been two months—"

"—that's two years for a mother!—"

"—it'll be eternity if you suffocate me, Ma—"

At that, her mother reluctantly let go of her and Lizzie could see the round of tears forming in her eyes. Sophia held her shoulders, pulling her a bit away to inspect her up and down before more tears welled up in her eyes. "You've changed so much, baby. Look at you, how many inches have you grown?"

"Zero..." 

"You look so much older—"

"Still thirteen," she dismissed factually (and fondly) but her mother's interrogation, which she knew was going to come at some time so better to get it out of the way, was interrupted. Lizzie's eyes brightened again, and she squealed. Jumping out of her mother's hold, she rushed to run around the car.

"DAD!"

Mike Carter let out a loud and strangled groan when his daughter launched herself at him, slightly more aggressive than with her mom because of the height difference. He was used to it after thirteen years and chuckled into his daughter's shoulder, picking her up off the ground so she was dangling. As Lizzie clung to him like a vine, he met eyes with Sophia who was now hugging the life out of Sharon—they may have a complicated relationship, but Sophia loved her kids like a momma bear.

Lizzie suddenly jumped out of her dad's arms, looking around eagerly. "Is Grandma here?"

"Sorry, kiddo," Mike said dejectedly, kissing her forehead when her face fell slightly. "She wanted to spend the weekend with Dad."

"Oh. Okay."

Grandma Ruthie went to her husband's grave a lot. She loved him through it all. Even death.

"Where's my other baby girl?" Mike asked, wrapping one of his arms around Lizzie as they walked back over to the other half of their family. He grinned when he saw Sharon, moving to give her a large embrace. "How're you doing, Share Bear? Proud of you for not killing your sister."

Lizzie snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and going to stand by her mother. "She tried."

She felt someone grab a hold of her exposed hand and looked down in confusion when she saw that it was her mom. Sophia glanced at the small callouses and marks in her palm, and Lizzie instantly pulled back. They were from her bow—she'd been practicing yesterday after class with Monroe. He'd decided to come with her to see how she was favoring, and she'd asked him to set an apple on top of his head. He politely declined.

"Alright, let's get inside before it starts to downpour," Mike called out, ending the small interaction between Lizzie and her mom as he put his arms around Lizzie and Sharon to guide them inside. "How's the weather? Heard the rain is nasty."

Lizzie gaped up at him. "Please tell me you did not just ask us about the weather."

"I'll ask you two about the good stuff when your mom can't hear."

Sharon glanced back at their mom who was signing them in, moving to the seating area in the Sunrise Senior Living facility. "How's it been with her?"

"She's only cried a couple times—about the same as when you left—so she's doing alright. She pulled out the baby pictures a few times," he explained with a small frown, then he squeezed his daughters' arms before they could think too much about it. "She knows you girls are doing good things for this world. I'm proud of you, so is she. Let's enjoy the holiday. I haven't seen Auntie Pegs in a while. She hates it when I have a beard."

"You do kind of look like a lumberjack," Lizzie shrugged, giving him a side eye with a grin. "Just...a lumberjack from Brooklyn."

"That's a new one," he snickered, going to high-five his daughter. When he did so, he noticed the same thing that his wife had and his head tilted slightly in interest. He grabbed Lizzie's wrist, glancing at the marks. "What? You pick up guitar or something?"

Lizzie and Sharon shared a look with each other, and Sharon cleared her throat. "If that's what mom asks, then yes."

"Gotcha."

Right on cue, Sophia walked over to the small area where they were all sitting with a tighter-lipped smile than before. Instantly, the three other members of the family knew that something was wrong. Mike's smile fell off his face and he stood up, wrinkles forming on his forehead when he furrowed his brow in confusion. Lizzie's concern spiked instantly, worry pressing on her ribcage as she assumed the absolute worst.

"What?" she asked, standing up immediately to look between her parents. Sharon did too. "What's wrong? Is Aunt Peggy okay? Dad—"

Sophia turned to look at Lizzie with a smile that didn't meet her eyes, nodding. "It's fine, Lizzie. She's okay. The nurse just said she's having a bad day, is all. Maybe we can all go out and get some lunch and come back to visit her, yeah? You guys can show us around D.C. a little bit."

Lizzie was not convinced. Her eyes darted to the hallway where she knew her aunt's room was, wanting nothing more than to push past her parents and go see Peggy right then and there. She knew that she had bad days. She knew that, but that did not mean she had ever witnessed it. Was she alone? Did she need someone? Did she—

"Lizzie? You ready to go?" Sharon asked softly, grabbing her bicep. Lizzie looked at her sister, and she must have seen the brief lapse of panic. Sharon's hand slid down to hers, and she squeezed it tightly before turning to their parents. "You guys go ahead. We'll meet you outside."

Both Mike and Sophia paused in the request, not used to being sent out of the room when their daughter was going through something, and definitely not used to Sharon being the one who took the position of comforting her. It felt odd. They both hesitated, then nodded and reluctantly let them have a moment. Mike pressed a kiss onto his daughters' heads on the way, going to speak to the nurse at the front desk briefly about his aunt's condition. Sophia took longer to walk away, her heart stinging as she watched her two girls share a look with one another she'd never seen before.

Sharon only focused on Lizzie, who was still frowning and looking back at Aunt Peggy's closed door. "Liz, things like this can happen. People with Alzheimers can have really good days and really bad ones, and that's just...that's one of the worst parts about it—but Aunt Peggy will get through the bad day, just like she always has. She doesn't want you worrying about her."

"We should have come on Thanksgiving," Lizzie murmured.

"Don't do that," she dismissed, squeezing her hand again. "She'd tell you right here and now not to throw a pity party for her. We're going to come back later and see how she's doing, and even if today isn't her day, there's always more days we can come visit. Let's go spend some time with Mom and Dad while they're in town. It'll cheer you up. You need a day like that."

Lizzie nodded, gnawing on her bottom lip and allowing Sharon to pull her out of the facility with a loss of pep in her step. Of course, she loved and missed her parents desperately, but there was a gut wrenching feeling in the bottom of her stomach that told her she would not enjoy this day. If her Aunt Peggy was having a bad day, there was no way she could have a good one—and there was another added layer to her heart, knowing that her Aunt Peggy was only getting worse and Steve still had not come to see her.

And she wasn't sure who that was hurting the most anymore.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Not edited. I've looked at this chapter too much and hate it.

Author's Note:

I have been trying to write this chapter for EVER and it has been a slow progress. I had about 1,000 words for a good month and got nowhere, then managed to write the other half of it tonight because I missed Lizzie and I was inspired. So, everything from the diner on was written tonight—hopefully you like it!

What do you think of Sharon and Steve's co-parenting skills? Yeah?

Lizzie has a new friend, Casey! What do you think about her?

And we got to see a small glimpse of her mom and dad. I would've liked for them to appear more but I could not write any more scenes in this chapter, it would've killed me. I sincerely apologize. You will definitely see more of them in the future, though!

As always, LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Thank you so much for your support. I love you guys. Hope you're staying well and staying safe. Happy Easter!

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