Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

56. Chat Room

"These are Wanda's." Tony holds up some sweats and a tank top. "She's in Edinburgh; she won't miss them. Figured you'd fit her clothes cause she's tiny too." The clothes are soft and Daphne gratefully takes them from him. She's ready to rip off this dress. Peter was sent to his own room by Tony and Doctor Strange didn't even look at her in the living quarters. He just left through one of his portals without saying goodbye.

Tony and Daphne are currently standing in what looks like a hotel room. Basic. Well, Stark basic. It's incredibly luxurious and modern, but there is nothing in the room that makes it look like it's someone's home. The colors are light shades of brown and white. In the middle of the room stands a king bed with lots of pillows on it. The room is quite spacious, but not super big. And it's cosy, sure, but there's an emptiness to it. It lacks personality.

Tony sucks his teeth and takes a breath.
"So, uh, get comfy-" He pauses to point at the door at the other side of the room. "Bathroom's there. Cupboard's got soaps and towels." He turns to the wall opposite the bed. "TV's there, same for the sound system-"
"Thanks, but I'm probably just gonna sleep," Daphne says apologetically. "Or at least try." Stark raises his eyebrows and nods.
"Fair enough." He places his hand on the door knob. "If you need anything you can ask F.R.I.D.A.Y." He stretches his back and opens the door.

"You've got a higher clearance than you did before, but no ghosting around at night, kay?" Tony says. Daphne looks at him confused. Why give her clearance if she's not allowed to walk around? Tony uses his head to gesture to the floor. "There are a couple residents with major anxiety and PTSD. One floor down from here is paranoia paradise, so please: no snooping around at night."
"Don't worry, I'm not adventurous." She frowns. "At least not tonight."
"Good. Good." He starts to walk out.

"Mr. Stark?" Tony turns back to Daphne.
"Hm?" Tony leans against the door frame and crosses his arms.
"Why give me clearance if I'm not allowed to go anywhere?"
"It's a hassle to keep having to fill you in as a guest with a one floor clearing if you keep visiting. I've given you the same privileges Pete has. Saves me the trouble of remembering where you can and can't go. Just don't go wandering at night."

Daphne doesn't really know how to reply. She wants to say thanks, but she doesn't want it to sound weird. She looks at the clothes she's clutching against her chest. Tony shoots her a worried glance, but she doesn't notice.
"Are you really okay?" Daphne presses her lips on top of each other.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."
"Fine is a dangerous word, Daph. Don't use it." She looks up at him with her eyebrows curled into a frown. He stands up straight and spreads his arms. "I started using it after Afghanistan and look where it got me."

...

Peter lies on his bed in his own room at Avengers Tower. His foot taps compulsively and he's staring at the ceiling. Daphne's a few doors down. Too far. He doesn't want her to be alone. Not after what happened tonight. The mist said it would be leaving earth. But what if it doesn't? What if it said that to put them on the wrong path?

Peter turns to his side and closes his eyes. He needs to at least try to get some sleep. His mind keeps racing back to Daphne. He has to protect her, he promised her he would. He can't break that promise again. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to her. He groans as he turns to lay on his back and he stares at the ceiling. He can't sleep. Not tonight.

...

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"
"Yes, Daphne?"
"Where's Peter?" Daphne stares at the ceiling.
"He's in room 56-2." Daphne frowns.
"Where am I?"
"You are in room 56-6," the voice replies. Daphne pushes her tongue against her teeth.
"Can I go to him?"
"You have clearance for this entire floor. But you promised Tony you wouldn't leave the room, so I'd advise against it." The AI drones. Daphne sighs.

Daphne knows what she promised, but she's not exactly comfortable. She took the quickest shower ever. Not wanting to be nude for long. What if anything happened while she was still naked? She doesn't want people to barge in while she's not wearing anything.

Wanda's clothes are nice and soft. Yet they itch. Daphne suspects it's not the clothing that's making her iffy, but the lack of people around her. Or, well, the lack of Peter. She feels unprotected. Even though she's in one of the best secured buildings in the entire world.

Daphne didn't expect F.R.I.D.A.Y. to sound so... human. Even her inflection and figure of speech are like Daphne's talking to a regular person.
"What other floors do I have clearance for?"
"It's a long list. Do you want me to name every floor number?" Daphne gulps.
"No, thanks." She cocks an eyebrow, too curious to keep herself from asking. "What are you?"
"What am I?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks back. Oddly enough, she sounds slightly amused.
"Yeah?"
"I am a natural-language user interface." Daphne's eyes ghost over the ceiling.
"So, if I talk slang, you'd understand me?"
"To an extent. I am mostly used to Tony's way of speaking."
"Fair."

Daphne hates to admit she doesn't feel as alone right now. The AI is keeping her company, in a way.
"Sorry for asking so much."
"That's alright." Daphne's quiet for a little bit. "Tony talks to me too when he feels alone."
"Do you have emotions? Feelings?"
"Not like you do."
"How then?"
"Mr. Stark programmed me to convey emotion in my words, but I do not feel them."
"Isn't that frustrating?" Daphne feels stupid for asking if the AI, who just told her she doesn't feel emotions, feels an emotion.
"Not to me, Daphne," F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounds amused again.
"You can call me Daph."
"Noted." Daphne scoffs at herself for having a conversation like this. With a robot. A computer. But it's keeping her mind off things, so she keeps going.

"Do you have a face?"
"Not really. Though, Tony imagines I'm red-headed."
"Like Pepper?"
"Most likely." Daphne smiles softly and turns to lie on her back. She flinches slightly when her back makes contact with the mattress. Her scar is still a little sensitive. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, no worries. Scar stings. The usual."
"Please let me know if you need help with anything."
"Will do, F.R.I." Daphne eases into the mattress. It's so soft, she feels like she's sinking into it.

"You told me a lot about Mr. Stark."
"He asked me to be open with you."
"So, you tell me about what he says to you?"
"Tony has multiple mental health issues as a result of the traumatic experiences he's gone through. He wants you to feel understood and hopes this can be achieved by opening up to you through me." What a dad. Daphne smiles, though. She didn't exactly expect him to ever properly care about her. This proves her wrong.

"Peter has anxiety too," Daphne says simply. "Does he help Peter as well?"
"He tries."
"Tries?"
"Peter has difficulty opening up about his trauma, but they connect on multiple levels, including their past experiences. It's why they have such a strong bond. Their parents-"
"No, no, please don't tell me this stuff- This is private!" Daphne puts a pillow over her face to hide it, embarrassed that she even asked about Peter. She covers her ears by pushing the pillow against her head.
"Noted."

"Next time you talk to him, tell Mr. Stark that your open is a little too open." Daphne's voice sounds muffled through the pillow.
"I will let him know." Daphne takes the pillow off her face and looks at the ceiling again. Guilt washes over her.
"Sorry I yelled."
"Don't worry. I don't feel, remember?"
"Still..." Daphne stops talking for a little bit, trying to collect her thoughts.

"Do you help Mr. Stark fall asleep?" Daphne covers herself with the bed sheets. They're poofy and soft.
"He has insomnia. He doesn't sleep much, generally."
"But do you help him?"
"We've tried many things. Nothing works."
"Do you think you can help me sleep?"
"That depends on what you need." Daphne pouts as she thinks.
"Do you have ballet music on your drive?"
"I am capable of monitoring the Internet in its entirety. I'm sure I can find a ballet for you to listen to. Any preferences?"
"Something slow."

"I have found a good quality playlist for Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake." Peter's favorite.
"Perfect." Daphne hugs one of the excess pillows like a koala and sighs. She's so tired. The introduction to Swan Lake starts.
"Is the volume alright?" Daphne nods into the pillow, but she's unsure if F.R.I.D.A.Y. can register that.
"Mhm-hm," she sighs. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"Night, F.RI.D.A.Y."
"Good night, Daph."