𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 - fond memories

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 "𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, Doctor —"

 "Peter, how many times? Call me Emilia, please." Emilia replied rather flippantly, her eyes peering over her shoulder.

 Peter's visit had been a surprise; the day had begun just as it always had, with Stephen padding across their bedroom floor to fetch some tea from the kitchen, only to return dressed in his robes and ready to travel God knows where.

 For the little... disturbances, Emilia and Stephen had a deal; they'd take turns. Today just so happened to be Emilia's turn to slink around the Sanctum with books in hand and slippers covering her toes while Stephen answered the call depicting that a threat had invaded.

 They scarcely received visitors at the Sanctum, so to hear a rather light rhythm tapping against the polished wooden door had been quite the surprise. Emilia had trailed down the grand staircase, fingers trailing over the oak railing while she tucked her other hand into the pocket of her beige trousers.

 When the door was hauled open, there stood Peter Parker looking as young as ever. The familiar and fond memory of his smile seemed to have grown old, for the tick of his lips was struggling to keep upright. He'd stood there with a wobbly smile, his hand dating to the air to wave as a greeting, and yet it was scarcely filled with his familiar burst of energy.

 It was no surprise, after all... from his own home to the Sanctum, so many walls were smothered with paint depicting Tony's likeness. From gold and red glimmering against brick walls to the mischievous glint of his old brown eyes smothered upon the side of a store... these days even Emilia seemed to portal everywhere just to avoid his eyes.

 Peter had twisted his hands, fiddling with his twitching fingers before he peered around her. Soon enough, she invited him in.

 The kitchen, as ever, was delightfully warm. Lemon and honey still tangled within the air, a sweet waft greeting them both while Peter took a seat at the kitchen counter.

 "So... what can I help you with, Pete?" Emilia muttered, a metal spoon dipping into a pot of sugar.

 "I was just wondering — oh, three please," he swiftly interrupted himself as Emilia held up the glass of granules, "— If you... well..."

 "You want to hear about Tony?"

 Peter's head bobbed, almost sheepishly. It seemed like he struggled to admit such a thing, as though he should have just been on his merry way... as though he wanted to apologise for even bringing up the man that had changed both their lives for the better.

 But Peter hadn't had nearly long enough with his mentor... his hero.

 Emilia could already feel the sting burning within her heart, begging for her lips to remain completely sealed. But if there was something that hadn't changed about Emilia after all those years... it was the very fact that she'd gladly take pain onto her shoulders just to spare another from its clutches.

 So she granted Peter's request.

 A cup of tea was placed before him, a teacup rimmed in gold, while the handle glimmered a pastel pink. Earl grey simmered in the saucer, a mound of sugar having been stirred while a slice of lemon floated atop the steaming liquid.

 Peter took a small sip of the rippling liquid while Emilia took her place beside him. He cleared his throat, "You don't have to... I know it — it probably hurts to —"

 "— It's alright." Emilia blew into her tea, watching as the surface rolled for a moment. Speaking about Tony always caused a great deal of pain, merely thinking of the man that had saved her and kept her alive for five miserable years... Emilia blinked, "Wanna hear about how we helped Bruce and the Hulk, well... merge?"

 "You know... I was so confused when I heard Doctor Banner's voice coming from the Hulk." Peter's head cocked, a little curl of hair coiling to dust his eyebrow.

 Emilia's laughter bubbled atop her tongue; her own reaction, as well as Tony's, had been... rather raucous. They'd cheered and clapped at another job well done, but when they finally watched those big green lips move, when they finally heard Bruce's quiet and dulcet voice... they had folded. They toppled onto the sandy shores of the island Tony had dragged them to and clutched at their bellies all the while Bruce whined at their reaction.

 Emilia hummed, a lilt of amusement still dribbling from her words, "It's quite funny, isn't it?"

 As ever, Peter seemed to shy away from saying something considered... mean. But in the end, he snorted, "Yeah, Doctor Banner's voice doesn't really, uh... suit the Hulk."

 "Tony and I said as much. Actually... you could say we bullied him about that."

 "Really?"

 "It was too hard not to."

 Peter's laughter echoed throughout the entire Sanctum. It bounced from one wall to another. Actually, genuine laughter; Peter hadn't been sure it was possible to conjure anymore, he'd almost feared that he was too far gone to even laugh once... But Emilia's rather dramatic stories she told to Morgan truly helped to capture the utter insanity she and Tony had shared together.

 Peter had snorted into his tea, almost inhaling every single drop when Emilia spoke of how The Hulk had very purposefully tossed himself into the salty ocean waves only to allow a poor — and very sodden Bruce — to take over.

 Bruce had floated there, watching as his friend's cheeks burst with pink, as laughter rumbled within their guts.

 Emilia had told him how she had been the mediator for Bruce and Hulk — while Tony very graciously made off-hand comments — while the two of them sorted through the multitude of issues they had with one another.

 "I can't believe —" Peter almost wheezed, swiftly placing his tea cup that had been newly replenished back upon the counter, " I can't believe The Hulk buried Mr Stark in the sand!"

 Emilia grinned, and for the first time without Stephen, Bruce or Morgan in sight... she found it to be a real smile, not something so far removed from reality, "Tony was warned! But we all know what he was like, he couldn't keep his mouth shut!"

 "Now I know that to be true —"

 Emilia and Peter turned in time, and there, lingering in the doorway was Stephen Strange still draped in his robes and cloak — actually, the cloak very swiftly departed his shoulders and settled upon Emilia's, seemingly delighting in the way she gently smoothed the fabric.

 Emilia couldn't quite describe how it felt to see him there. It always seemed to grab ahold of her, dazing her as though she was suspended within a dream. She'd wanted and waited for him to come home for so long when he'd been taken away from her... now, with every time he trailed into a room, or wrapped his arms around her middle... every time he kissed her cheek and woke her with tea, it didn't quite feel real.

 Emilia hopped from her stool, very swiftly registering the way Peter bolted to his feet as though he really was still just a kid in the presence of a hero. He was adorable.

 "How'd it go?" Emilia said, her voice as light as a feather, while her fingertips took ahold of his chin to bring their lips together just once.

 Stephen almost pulled away, but the urge to keep up appearances in front of Peter would never trump the tooth-rotting sweetness upon Emilia's lips. He hummed, "Fine... Though I could have done without a bunch of garden gnomes trying to kill me."

Emilia stepped back, cheeks flooding with air. She did her utmost not to laugh at that familiar look of disgruntlement, "Garden gnomes?"

 "Dozens of them, cursed."

 "How very... odd."

 Stephen then seemed to snap out of his stupor. Eyes flicked over Emilia's shoulder to Peter. He stood there like a bump on a log, suddenly twitchy and uncomfortable... Clearly Stephen Strange still intimidated him.

 "Peter." Stephen nodded in acknowledgement. He waited a moment for Peter's awkward little grin to appear and the kid waved his fingers. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing to worry about, at least... after all, it wasn't just Emilia who had vowed to do what she could for the boy. Stephen had too... only his words had been silent, internal and never to be uttered.

 His choice was to let Tony sacrifice himself, so it only felt right to keep an eye on those left behind.

 Stephen glanced between the two, "Everything alright?"

 Emilia nodded, "Just telling a few stories."

 "I hope none are about me."

 "No, sir —" Peter swiftly spoke, only to be smothered by Emilia.

 "— Actually, I was just about to tell him about that time —"

Stephen pulled her closer, waiting until her words were so muffled by his own chest, that neither he nor Peter could understand a single thing she was saying.

 Emilia grinned, relenting as her words came to a close. She peered at Peter, "Aren't you supposed to be meeting MJ? At three?"

 She glanced at the ancient clock on the wall, watching as the second's hand continued to tick away... it was already ten too.

 "Oh, man!" Peter whined, swiping up his backpack.

 "Tell her I say hi, and that I still want to meet her."

 Peter's cheeks were pink and suddenly very warm. Emilia had brought MJ up once or twice now during the times he'd swing by. She was insistent.

 Peter swung his rucksack over his shoulder, scrambling when books toppled from the open zipper while his plaid button-up bunched beneath the fraying strap, "I promise... soon. Maybe."

 "I'm holding you to that."

 Stephen jutted his head towards the door, "Go on, escape while you can. I fear she might follow you otherwise."

 "Thank you, Sir."

 He was gone in a heartbeat, leaving only the door to slam shut behind him.

 Emilia twisted and turned, weaselling her way from Stephen's arms. For a moment, she missed the warmth, and then she let out a breath flooded with amusement.

 Stephen's brow climbed his forehead, "What?"

 "He calls you sir."

 "So?"

 "You intimidate him."

 "No, I don't."

 Emilia sighed almost wistfully, stray fingers brushing his shoulder as she trailed onwards, "Sure, Stephen."

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DATE: 18/04/2023

:･ﾟ★ ah... the beginnings of our beloved parents Stemilia. you better believe these two will do anything for their children (Peter and America)

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