(Y/N POV)

None of this makes sense.

"So..." Peter said softly, "feeling better?"

I was laying down on the couch in fury's 'lair', swaddled in blankets and pillows. After a few hours of being attended to by medics, I was finally allowed to let visitors in.

Although it was scary to face them.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

Peter sat down in the chair opposite mine, staring at the ground to make me feel less uncomfortable. Although it didn't seem to work.

"Look, Peter," I said, "I'm really sorry. I don't know what I was thinkin-"

"I understand," he cut me off, "losing Mr. Stark was hard."

"You can call him Tony," I muttered, "he would have wanted you too."

He was silent, and it made my heart hurt worse than it already did. I was so caught up in my own selfishness, that I disregarded the fact that he had feelings too. I cast him away, without telling him the real reason why I couldn't bear to look at him.

I picked up my bowl of chicken soup from the table next to me, and sipped it from the side. I pretended not to notice Peters stare, and I knew what question he had on his mind.

"Thanks," I said, wiping my mouth, "for the food."

"I didn't get you tha-"

"Not this," I clarified, "for the stuff you gave me when I was sick. Except this morning, why did you send me that one?"

"Uh- I panicked."

"Oh. What?"

"Nothing, sorry... I- nevermind."

I curled my lips inside my mouth and pressed down on them, deep in thought. My self-made habit of being professional took over, and I decided to focus on the monster.

"Did you..." I asked, "fight the elemental?"

"What?"

"The water creature. The one that got me into this mess?"

Peter stood up and made his way by the couch, kneeling down beside me and pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. I stared at him, my stomach fluttering from how close he was to me. He been closer before, but after I broke up with him, I hadn't seen him in a year.

I missed him, even though he was right in front of me. I suppose I was really missing the year I could have spent with him. Although my stubbornness refused to let me do that.

"You have a fever," he said, "have you been taking your medication?"

"How do you know I have medication?"

"Happy told me. When was the last time you took it?"

"Three months," I paused, biting my lip. He thought I was crazy, didn't he?

"You can't do that," he scolded, " you're starting to imagine things."

"What do you mean, imagine things?"

"You were talking about seeing your dad, and being in 2012 New York, and now you're talking about seeing a water creature!"

"I saw all of those things," I defended, "I felt them. They were real, Peter."

"You know they can't be real.... at least not him."

I looked at the floor, realizing he was right. A part of me knew he couldn't be there, but all I wanted was that small sliver of hope to come true. Yet, everything else seemed to be real.

"Talo- um, Fury saw it too," I said, "ask him."

"I'll ask him later. He wants us to meet someone first, though."

"Whomst? Please tell me it's not some self-obsessed hero that wears capes and slicks his hair back like Elvis. That's just stereotypical, and I hate it."

Peter chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair, "I'm glad Spider-man doesn't fall into any of those categories."

"Me too."

I tried to stand up, but a stinging pain ran through my ribs. I toppled over, my stomach curling up into a knot.

"Woah woah woah," Peter said, leaping forward the second I started to fall, "take it easy."

"I forgot you had your Peter Pizazz thing. Oh, Peter tingle?"

"It's Spider Sense."

"That's lame," I teased, "I like the other ones better."

"I'm sure you do," he laughed, sliding his arm under my knees and lifting me up with his other on my back. "Don't worry, I got you."

He started to walk towards the door, carrying me as if I weighed nothing. I leaned my head against his chest, trying not to remember how I used to do that when we were together. Because we aren't together anymore. Because of me.

"Can we talk?" I mumbled quietly.

"About what?"

"About us."

Peter bit his lip, not stopping on his way to wherever he was taking me. I could almost see the thoughts churning in his head, but I didn't know what they were. We used to be so close, I could finish his sentence before he even started it, but now I don't even remember his favorite color. That's what you get when you push every thought of him away.

"After," he said softly, "I don't know if we should have that conversation right now."

"Because we have to meet someone?"

"Yeah, and I don't want you glaring at me the whole time in case I say something wrong."

"Why would I glare at you?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, "you used to."

"Peter, that was a year ago. I've changed."

"I know," he stopped, looking me dead in the eyes, "and that scares me."

I stared back at him, trying to find some truth in his stare, and I shuddered when I realized what he said was the truth. Suddenly I was overcome with the memory of years ago, the way he'd look at me when we spoke. But the way he was looking at me now was different, distant and withdrawn. As if he was scared to put himself out there in the fear of being shut down again.

It was then I realized that he changed too.

We both did. I don't know who we were any more, and even if he still wanted to be with me. The only thing I knew, was that I wanted to be with him. Forever, even.

"I'm sorry," Squeaked out.

" I know you are," he whispered, "so am I."

He stopped in front of the glass door, waiting for the panels to slide open completely. Inside the room was a hoard of computers, all of them running codes and functions of different varieties. If I didn't know what was going on, I'd assume Nick Fury was a hacker.

"Ah, you're here," Talos said, "you can set her down in that chair, peter."

Peter nodded, and gently placed me down in a wooden seat a couple paces from the door. A man in a marron cape and a sparkly suit storde out of the shadows, a chiseled grin on his face.

"See?" I whispered, tapping on peter's arm, "the stereotypical hero."

"He's missing the slicked back hair, though."

"You're right... maybe he ran out of gel."

"Brilliant suggestion, Y/N."

I giggled, before clamping a hand over my mouth. Talos glanced at me with suspicion, and the hero seemed offended. I guess they know who I was talking about now, oh well.

"This," Talos said, "is Mr. Beck."

Peter held out his hand to the man, and shook it. Something seemed odd, but I couldn't place my finger on it.

"I've seen you in action," he said, "we could use someone like you on my world."

"Beck is from earth," Talos cut in, "just not ours."

I raised an eyebrow. The possibilities of dimensions were endless, but I had never met someone who was able to travel through the barriers without nano-technology. Stark technology.

"So you can breach Inter-dimensional riffs?" I blurted out, "without the help of a suit?"

Beck narrowed his eyes, but pretended not to care about my question. He coughed, clearing his throat as he fought for an answer.

"I didn't have to get through," he explained, "the snap tore a hole in our dimension, so all I had to do was go through it."

"Still, you'd need a suit."

"What do you think I'm wearing?" he said, getting annoyed.

Peter was sending me worried looks, but Talos seemed interested in what I had to say. Whatever this man was hiding, I'd figure it out.

"The only people that know how to build a suit, with those capabilities," I spat out, "consisted of two people. However, there is only one person that you could have possibly asked."

"And who is that?" Beck grimace.

I smirked, and leaned against the back of my chair. It was eerily silent in the room, with the exception of machine whirring and buzzing. Without hesitation, I muttered the word everyone had been waiting to hear.

"Me."