Marvel Oneshots

"Where The Sidewalk Ends"

Summary: The reader seems to disappear for an hour or two at a time every Sunday all year long. Her teammates decide to follow her one day.

"Half-dozen of white roses please." I say politely.

"Darling, you come here every Sunday I know what you get." The owner replies, smiling softly.

I chuckle at his comment. It's true, I do come here every Sunday, like I have been for the last four months. Mr. Anderson is the owner of this floral shop.

He goes to the back of the shop where the green house is and a minute later he reappears with a small bouquet of flowers.

I hand him the money, scooping up the flowers.

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson. Have a good day!" I wave, exiting the shop.

"You too, Y/n." He calls out.

The floral shop was only a few blocks away from the Avengers compound so I didn't have to walk much. I then walk another two blocks to the place that I usually go to- the cemetery.

I walk through the numerous paths and rows of headstones, searching for the one I'm looking for.

I sigh as I come into sight of it. It hurts less and less each time I visit. Now, it is mostly a dull ache.

I kneel on the grass, not caring about the early morning dampness.

Like muscle memory, I start by removing the now dead flowers. I pick up the wilted roses and stand up, throwing them in the large outdoor garbage can that sits a few feet away.

I kneel back down and slide the roses back into the post.

I brush off any leaves and dirt that may have fallen onto the headstone.

Reaching into my bag, I pull out the thick book of Shel Silverstein's; Where the Sidewalk Ends

I flip through the book until I find my last spot. Each time I come here I sit on the grass and read aloud a story or two.

Sometimes I come here to think. To think about the memories we had.

At times i can feel her presence lingering around. I like to imagine that she's sitting next to me, looking leaning against my shoulder as I read aloud her favorite stories.

Flashback

"Y/nnn!!!!" The little girl runs out of the house and tackles my waist.

"Wooaah there, kiddo! You're getting so big you might knock me down!" I tease, rubbing her back.

She furrows her brows and looks up at me.

"I'm eight! I'm not thaaat big.." She pouts.

"Oh, I'm just messing with ya, Chloe." I say, ruffling her hair.

She huffs at my action and jokingly rolls her eyes. Chloe grabs my hand and begins to pull me into the house.

"Mama! Y/n's here!" She calls out, her voice echoing throughout the house.

"Hey, Y/n! I'll be out in a sec!" Chloe's mother, Martha yells. She must be in the bathroom or something... Either that or finishing up paperwork.

Martha is a lawyer and oftentimes is gone. I can't blame her though, there's a lot of crime in New York which means a lot of court meetings. I've been babysitting Chloe since she was three, pretty much every year I've moved in next door. Even when Martha is home, I'm here. Martha doesn't really care, she's said that I am like a second daughter to her. She is honestly more of a mom to me than my birth mother is. I rely on myself a lot to get by.