~No P.O.V.~

Blythe doesn’t realise when she and Tony arrive at the safe house, being too deeply asleep. She doesn’t register that he lays her down on one of the two beds. She doesn’t notice when Steve arrives and comes into the room she’s in, that he sits on the edge of the bed looking at her with a worried look on his face, or even when he leaves.

She doesn’t register the transition from dream to nightmare, that it gives her night sweats and makes her toss and turn. She doesn’t feel that Peter climbs into the bed next to her and just holds her. She doesn’t hear him whispering that it would be OK, or feel him stroking her hair calmly.

She doesn’t realise that this calms her down a bit, or that her nightmare becomes a dream again. She doesn’t notice when her night sweats stop and she sleeps peacefully against Peter’s chest. She doesn’t know that he stays awake until he can see that she has been asleep for at least an hour.

--

~Blythe’s P.O.V.~

I wake up early, early enough to see the tips of the sun poking out behind the mountains. I sit up and see Peter sleeping beside me. I bend down and brush his hair out of his face, kissing his forehead. I fly outside and up to sit on the roof, watching the sun rise.

My helmet comes around my head, and I take it off. I hold it between my hands, staring at it. Tears fill my eyes as I think about how I basically have to be a hero name. I blink and they all fall. I place the helmet beside me and bring my knees to my chest, clutching them.

“Hey Blythe? You OK, honey?” I hear, and I turn to see Dad walking towards me. He must have climbed up to the roof to join me.

I want to tell him yes. Of course I do. You never want your parents to worry. But I can’t lie to him. “No,” I manage to say. He sits beside me. I lean into him and he wraps his arms around me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I look at him, tears welling again. “I’m so scared, Dad. I don’t know what to do. This is your job, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with it.” Tears are falling now. “And I’ve basically got to be a hero now. I can’t not be one with this suit and scream.”

“Hey, hey. It’s OK to be scared. I still get scared. Do you know how scared I get for your Papa whenever we go on missions? How many times I hope he’s not going to die? We’ll always be here for you. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” I reply, forcing a smile. He jumps off the roof and then helps me down after him. We walk inside, and I can see Papa making breakfast. I give him a quick hi and then walk into the bedroom I was sleeping in, the one where Peter is still asleep in.

He looks peaceful and I don’t want to wake him up, but he does as soon as I sit on the bed. He sits up, then immediately hugs me. It’s as if he senses that I’m not OK, but truthfully you could tell it from looking at me.

“I’m here for you,” He whispers.

“I know,” I whisper back.

“You can tell me everything or absolutely nothing, you know that.”

“I know. I’m just really glad that you weren’t scared off or anything. The fact that you’re still here makes me feel happy.”

We share a kiss and a hug, then stand up. We walk into the kitchen, where Papa has finished making breakfast. The two of us slide into seats around the small table. Dad is already sitting down, and Papa places the food down in front of us.

“Thanks Papa,” I say, taking a bite.