The secret of a good lie is don't over explain, and throw in one good detail.
[ book three of assassin series ]
[ daughter!hawkeye oc x peter parker ]
[ au, less than a year before infinity war ]
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Warning: the following content includes explicit content. Reader discretion is advised.
Weddings are typically a good thing. Or, that's what everyone tells me. But it's Eddie's wedding that centers my bad dreams. My family is all there together; Aunt Nat, Uncle Tony, Happy, Cooper, Penelope, Aunt May, Peter, we're all there together . And they're all there when Red Chaos is unleashed, wreaking havoc and spilling blood on a day that is supposed to bring people together. In my dream I'm targeting Peter again and I can tell by the distortion I'm dreaming of forgotten memories. I wake up, drenched in a cold sweat and fighting off the shakes of my limbs. My breathing is fast so I lay in bed until my breathing subsides then I get up and splash some water on my face. When I lay back down I shut my eyes in hopes of forcing myself back to sleep and telling myself I will not have nightmares.
When I finally get comfortable again, I sleep too good. There's something about being in the clean sheets of a bed you've never slept in that makes sleeping feel that much better. A bed without memories of tears and lost arguments. The only thing that wakes me is the far away screams and the over heating of my body. Again. I'm having another nightmare. The familiar red spike of energy that flows through my body jolts me awake. Fearful that I'm not in control I sit up, looking down at my hands with speculation and paranoia. The orange flare radiates beneath my skin, but I force calm thoughts in my head until the orange disappears. My breathing stays quick until I repeat the same mantra I did in the plane. No orange flares. No mind control.
"I'm still me," I whisper to myself laying back against the bed. I repeat this to myself as I strip out of the hoodie I arrived in. Now clad in a loose t-shirt the cool sheets feel much better against my skin. For pants I wear the pink hello kitty pajama bottoms Peter gave to me once upon a time. There were his once, the day that Uncle Tony took away his suit, but I like to wear them from time to time. I shut my eyes for what feels like seconds before there's a soft hesitant knock on the door.
I open my eyes and throw off the comforter. The walk to the front door is a short one, enough time for sleep to disappear from my eyes. On the other side of the door is Peter. I look through the peep hole and by the time I open the door my cheeks have grown sore from smiling. He's now dressed in causal sweatpants and an old t-shirt I hadn't seen in a while. There's a band's title on the front but that's not what has my focus. It's the mischievous look in his eye when he glances into my room and sees no other occupants, "how'd you sleep?" When he sees the pants he grins, tilting his head in a way that tells me he remembers the pants, too. "Cute pants."
"I slept good," I tell him quickly, a bad habit of telling him a good answer and not my truthful one. But the truth would come later. For now, I wanted to know what he was up to and why that mischievous look was in his eyes. I pause and lean against the door as my answer hangs in the air. "Something tells me you didn't come all the way across the hall to see how I slept."
