.ೃ࿔*:･𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢. when i break it's in a million pieces

𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐎𝐏, trying to find a spot that didn’t dig into her skin. Her fingers curled around the worn edges of her book, bringing a sense of familiar comfort.

This rooftop had become her sanctuary, a place where the noise of the city faded into the background, leaving her alone with her thoughts. It was the spot where she and Peter had spent countless hours, talking about everything and nothing. Today, though, she needed space— space to think, to breathe, to escape the weight of everything that had been building up inside her.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice came from behind her, warm and familiar. Ingrid turned noticing how the sunlight caught his face in a way that made her smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, walking closer.

Ingrid closed her book, a slight frown forming as she turned his words over in her mind. “You didn’t expect to see me…in a place where you usually see me?” She teased, her tone light but edged with the kind of gentle sarcasm that had become their unspoken language.

Peter chuckled, glancing at his wrist as if checking a watch that wasn’t there. “Well, you are,” he paused for effect, eyes narrowing as if deep in thought, “about seven hours too early.”

Ingrid sighed, the weight of her earlier thoughts pressing down again. “I guess I just needed to get out. My room feels like a prison these days.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she wondered if Peter could sense the heaviness behind them. As he settled down beside her, the familiar comfort of his presence eased some of the tension in her chest.

Peter glanced around, his gaze softening as he took in the view. “Same, I guess. I wanted to stop here after school. It’s a nice place to sit and think.”

Ingrid nodded, her fingers absently tracing the edges of her book. “Yeah, it is,” she agreed, her voice quieter now, as if the rooftop itself demanded a certain reverence.

“I can’t stay long, though. My aunt’s been freaking out about some bombing in Vienna.” Peter’s voice was almost casual, but the words hit Ingrid like a punch to the gut. Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

“What?” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Peter paused, realizing the gravity of what he’d said. “Somebody bombed the Vienna International Centre. I think, like, twelve people died. It’s pretty messed up.” He rubbed the back of his head, the casual gesture at odds with the seriousness of his words. “You haven’t heard?”

Ingrid didn’t answer. A cold dread settled over her, twisting in her stomach. She fumbled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she pulled it from her pocket. Her thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. She dialed Natasha’s number with shaky hands, each ring of the phone amplifying her anxiety.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Natasha picked up. “Hey, kid. You do your homework yet?” Natasha’s tone was light, almost teasing, but it did nothing to calm Ingrid’s growing panic.

“Are you okay?” Ingrid blurted out, her voice cracking as she began to pace the rooftop, the concrete beneath her feet suddenly feeling unstable.

“I’m fine. Why?” Natasha’s voice held a note of concern now.

“I… I heard about the bombing,” Ingrid said, her voice faltering as the reality of the situation settled in. The thought of Natasha being anywhere near that attack made her heart race, her mind jumping to the worst possible conclusions.

“Oh, that,” Natasha said, her voice dropping slightly. There was a brief silence, just long enough for Ingrid’s heart to skip a beat. “I’m fine, Ingrid. You don’t need to worry.”

Ingrid forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of anxiety swirling inside her. “Okay,” she managed, though the tension in her voice was still palpable.

“You just stay in your room, do your homework, maybe read a book…” Natasha’s voice softened, but there was an edge to it. A pause, then, as if something clicked in Natasha’s mind. “Ingrid, you’re in your room, right?”

Ingrid glanced around the rooftop, her eyes landing on Peter, who was casually swinging his legs over the edge, waiting patiently for her to finish the call. The contrast between his relaxed demeanor and the panic she felt only heightened her guilt.

“Yeah… I’m not,” Ingrid admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. She winced, already bracing herself for the inevitable scolding.

“I told you no going out until I get back,” Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. The worry was there, buried under layers of control.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Ingrid replied quickly, her stomach twisting with guilt. She hated disappointing Natasha, especially after everything the the red head had done for her.

There was a long sigh on the other end of the line. “It’s okay,” Natasha finally said, though the concern in her voice was still clear. “Look, I’ve got things to do. We’ll talk later. But you need to go home, okay? No more wandering around. Just… stay safe.”

“Okay,” Ingrid said, her voice small.

The call ended, leaving Ingrid standing there, the weight of Natasha’s words still heavy on her mind. She walked over to Peter, who was still sitting on the edge of the rooftop, his gaze concerned. Without a word, she crouched down, shoving her book into her backpack with a little more force than necessary, her thoughts racing.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, his voice gentle, sensing the shift in her mood.

“Yeah,” Ingrid replied, but the word felt hollow, more of an automatic response than anything. She zipped up her backpack and stood, slinging it over her shoulder. “Everything’s fine. I just… I need to go home. Sorry.”

Peter nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Oh, alright. I get it.” He hesitated for a moment before asking, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Ingrid forced a small smile, wanting to reassure him even as the unease from the call lingered in the back of her mind. “Of course,” she said, her voice softer now, more genuine.

.ೃ࿔*:･

Just as Ingrid was on the verge of drifting off to sleep, a thunderous explosion shattered the quiet of the night, jolting her awake. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat up, her gaze snapping to the window. Outside, in the distance, the dark forest was ablaze, fire engulfing the night sky and painting the horizon in shades of orange and red.

Instinct took over. Without a second thought, Ingrid threw off her covers and jumped out of bed, her mind already racing. She grabbed her backpack, the one she always kept ready, containing her suit—the one thing she’d need if she was going to help. The urgency of the situation left no room for hesitation.

She darted down the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridors of the compound. But as she rounded a corner, she skidded to a stop by an open door, the sight within making her pause.

Inside the room stood Clint and Wanda, their faces tense and illuminated by the flickering glow of the distant fire. They were staring down at the floor, where a massive hole gaped open, debris scattered around it.

“Why do we have a Vision-sized hole in the floor?” Ingrid asked, her voice laced with a mix of confusion and concern as she pointed to the hole. Her eyes flicked between Clint and Wanda, noticing the tension in their postures. “And where are you two going?” she added, her gaze narrowing as she pointed at them.

“Cap needs our help,” Clint answered, his tone serious but laced with urgency.

Ingrid’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “And you think you can go without me?” she challenged, crossing her arms over her chest, a determined glint in her eyes. She wasn’t about to be left behind, not when something serious was going down.

Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “Nat would kill me if I brought you,” he admitted, his voice betraying the slight hesitation he felt.

A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of Ingrid’s lips. “Who said Nat needs to know?” she countered, her tone playful but with a steely resolve underneath. There was no way she was sitting this one out.

Clint stared at her for a moment, weighing his options, before finally letting out a resigned sigh. “Alright, then,” he relented, though his voice carried a hint of reluctance. “Come on, we’ve got one more stop to make."