darling [peter parker]

the end!

Wendy smirked as she walked up to the memorial. "You just had to be buried in London, huh?"

The statue of her Aunt Peggy was always a comforting sight. She laid the bouquet of roses (as red as her signature lipstick) she'd bought on the way onto the platform and ran her fingers over the grooves in the plaque. 'In honor of Agent Peggy Carter, who fought for our country in World War II and inspired generations of little girls. 1921-2016'

"It's okay, I can make this work," Wendy said with a soft chuckle. She sat down in front of the statue and, just like she did her entire life, looked up to her Aunt Peggy. "We haven't talked in a while. I have so much to tell you. Uh, so, I was hurt by these guys and for so long I kept it to myself, but I finally spoke out and I thought it would make everything better but it's not. But I don't want to talk about bad things. Not tonight."

She shifted and pulled her phone from her pocketbook. She unlocked her phone and brought up Instagram. She tapped on Peter's account and held it up for Peggy to see. "Remember Peter, the boy I used to always complain about? We started dating and I like him so much."

"And I was trying to deny it because I was scared," she continued. "I've been scared since Mom broke the news that you died. I knew as long as I had you I was safe and then you were gone and I've been so scared, Aunt Peggy. I didn't want anything to change. I didn't know who I was without you. I keep saying to myself, I'm Wendy Carter like I'm trying to remind myself who I am and it wasn't until tonight that I had this epiphany."

She wiped tears from her eyes. "I've been holding myself back because I'm terrified of change. But change isn't bad. Change brought me Peter and Colleen, and the knowledge that even though you're gone, I'm okay. I'm okay, Aunt Peggy. I'm not always going to be. That's not how life works. But when I'm not okay, I still have you in the back of my mind. And maybe that's the summary. Even though you're gone, you're not. You live on in our minds. I carry you with me every day in my heart."

"You're dead but you're not gone," Wendy stated, a small grin playing on her lips. "And I want to thank you for everything you've taught me. I'd be nothing without you, but I'm not nothing without you. Does that make sense? I'm babbling." She giggled to herself and stood up. She felt so much lighter than she had when she first sat down. Talking to her Aunt Peggy always made her feel better.

"I love you, Aunt Peggy," she whispered. "I wish I could say it to your face, but this is the best I'm gonna get and I just have to accept that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go home, get in my pajamas, and wait for my superhero boyfriend to come to my window."

She blew the statue a kiss and headed home. Her parents were sat on the couch, her mom reading some medical journal while her dad did some paperwork. They didn't question why she was back so early, just bid her a "Goodnight sweetheart!" as she walked past. As soon as she was in her room, the door locked behind her, she stripped off her dress and pulled on fuzzy Captain America-themed pajamas she'd gotten for Christmas last year. She tied her hair up in a loose bun and set to work taking off her makeup.

An hour later, she was sat on her bed with her computer on her lap, typing furiously. She needed something to distract her while she waited for Peter, so she'd taken to doing her homework. She was starting to wonder if Peter was dead when she heard a knock at her window. She jumped up, tossing her laptop to the side, and ran over to the window. There, on her fire escape, was a bruised and singed Peter. Her heart dropped. She rushed to unlock her window and move it up. She pushed the screen out of the way and helped him climb inside.

They sat side-by-side on the foot of her bed. It wasn't an unfamiliar position for them. They'd been there many times before, but he'd been a lot less injured and in a different suit and she'd been lying to herself. It seemed like ages ago now - in actuality, it'd been two and a half weeks. Two and a half weeks without her Peter Pan. She never thought herself to be the sappy type, but now here she was, heart aching at the memory of being apart from Peter.