Scene: All Saints Day (2)
After her conversation with Ben, Amelia was nervous about talking with her parents and actively avoiding them. But it is nearly impossible to avoid Spider-Man and completely impossible to avoid her father. When it was clear he wouldn't let her leave without talking she showed some growth by joining him on the couch instead of making a break for it out the window.
For his part, Peter was calm, and willing to accept she was an adult and responsible for her own choices. But Amelia didn't realize either and started the conversation with a preemptive apology.
"Why are you apologizing?" He continued before she could answer. "If you still lived at home, we'd make a sorry jar, like a swear jar, just for you."
She made a face. "I know you're mad at me -- but don't worry I'm also mad at herself and I understand that I have to trust people but sometimes it's hard to know who. . . " Her words rushed together as she anticipated what he was thinking, and didn't give a moment to let him confirm or refute. "And I know I can always trust you, but. . . but sometimes ... I'm scared and I'm sorry!"
Peter waited to be certain she was done; he spoke very seriously. "Do you want to come home anymore? Because it seems like all that ever happens is bad and ends in apologies."
Amelia burst into tears. "You don't want me?" she asked in disbelief because as anxious as she was, she never believed he'd be so angry or disappointed to actually kick her out. "Where am I supposed to go?"
"Whoa whoa whoa." He took both her hands in his and met her eyes directly. "I am your father, and you are always welcome in my home, even if my home is a carboard box on the sidewalk." She held his eyes like a lifeline. "But -- I would understand if home is too painful for you." He wouldn't really, but he would try. Her sobs intensified again and he pulled her into a hug.
"I can't lose everything all at once like this," she cried into his chest. He wasn't certain what she meant, but then neither was she. "What do you mean home is too painful? It's not home it's me. . . it's not you, it's me."
He hugged her tighter. "How has it been at school? How often have you almost died or had to put yourself in danger? How often did you cry like this?"
"I'd rather cry than be all alone," she sniffed. "And it's my job to put myself in danger! You raised me that way!"
Peter kissed her hair. "You're allowed to take some time off from danger to be happy. We've all done it."
"It wouldn't make me happy," she argued. "It would make me feel even more useless than I already do."
Peter pulled back so he could meet her gaze again. "From what I understand of the whole Halloween... situation, you were the least useless person there, and you broke some kind of magical curse."
Her eyes flashed. "And yet I am still the biggest disappointment and problem!"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Who have you disappointed?"
She sat back and crossed her arms. "You're lecturing me right now. And mom isn't even here. And Henry. And Jake. And Jamie." She barely even wants to talk to her anymore. "And Ben just pretends not to be mad at me." Her angry expression faltered slightly. She knew that one wasn't entirely true. "And Tony. And Steve. And Natasha." She swallowed. Peter made a mental note to follow up about Natasha. "And probably other Henry." Even though he would say he doesn't judge her. "At least."
Peter frowned. "I can lecture you if you really want, but call a spade a spade. And now that you've listed almost everyone I know, I want to know which parent you got telepathy from."
"Stop making fun of me!" she shouted, and grimaced because she sounded ridiculous and she knew it.
Peter flailed, which was a little ridiculous on his part, too. "I not making fun of you!"
"I have reasons for everything I said!" Tears streamed down her face. She looked exhausted. "I'm not making it up. . . I'm so tired of feeling crazy. . . "
"How many times do I -- or Ben! -- have to tell you we don't think you're crazy?" She shook her head. "I want to know why you don't believe in me."
Like with Ben earlier she couldn't find an answer. Finally she gave up and shook her head. "I'm messed up. I don't know what to do."
Peter looked very serious again. "I want you to get help."
She nodded, resigned. "Okay."
Peter frowned. She looked like she'd given up. "Do you really want help or is it just that you want to stop fighting?"
"Both." She shrugged. "I want help because I don't know what else to want, and I'm angry and that's wrong, and I definitely don't want to fight anymore because I'm exhausted."
He nodded. "You can ask for a sabbatical from school."
"I should have just stayed in New York in the first place." She looked lost. "I want you to be proud of me. . . "
He put his hands on her shoulders. "If you doubt everything else in your life you should never doubt that I'm proud of you." She looked afraid, and desperate, to believe him. "My daughter slew a dragon."
"Henry slew it," she corrected. "I just 'put myself in danger' so he could." But she gave him the ghost of a smile and fell forward to hug him. "If I stay… I'll get whatever help you want me to but.. I'm not a child. I know you don't always agree with my choices. But…." She didn't know how to explain what she meant and she felt childish for saying it.
"We can work on a combination." He pulled back again, because he wanted to be clear. "You are getting a college degree. It's not negotiable. You are a Parker-Danvers and that is the ONE pressure we will put on you. Otherwise you're allowed to be an adult." He seemed to want a response so she nodded once. "You can move home and work on things from here, if that's what you want. But if you live with us there are rules. And if you're in New York you're living with us. Otherwise you're going back to college. The end. No Jake -- or Henry -- cohabitation."
Amelia was half-relieved and half-sulky about this speech, but she nodded again. "Okay." She added 'for now' in her head. "But just so you understand, I want to go to college. I don't want to give up. I just can't really remember why I wanted to go Maryland and. . . I need to time to figure all this out. But I really do want to finish and I really do want help."
"I'm happy to give you whatever help and time and space I can," Peter assured her. "And you can always come home."
"But I do care about school," she asserted.
"I know." He thought the problem was Amelia cared about too many things. And too many people. He wished she would go back to Baltimore and meet a nice, non-intense boy, or girl, and break up with Jake and Henry, and decide to move to Iowa and keep Des Moines safe.
He just wanted her to be happy.
"I know," he said again and pulled her back into a tight hug and let her cry. He didn't know what she would decide and he didn't know what he'd do when she decided it. He had to talk to Carol. For at least a day. He had to talk to Hellrung. Maybe they could all go into family therapy. Maybe they should all move to Baltimore. Or Des Moines.
He held his little girl and silently vowed he wouldn't let her break any more.
For his part, Peter was calm, and willing to accept she was an adult and responsible for her own choices. But Amelia didn't realize either and started the conversation with a preemptive apology.
"Why are you apologizing?" He continued before she could answer. "If you still lived at home, we'd make a sorry jar, like a swear jar, just for you."
She made a face. "I know you're mad at me -- but don't worry I'm also mad at herself and I understand that I have to trust people but sometimes it's hard to know who. . . " Her words rushed together as she anticipated what he was thinking, and didn't give a moment to let him confirm or refute. "And I know I can always trust you, but. . . but sometimes ... I'm scared and I'm sorry!"
Peter waited to be certain she was done; he spoke very seriously. "Do you want to come home anymore? Because it seems like all that ever happens is bad and ends in apologies."
Amelia burst into tears. "You don't want me?" she asked in disbelief because as anxious as she was, she never believed he'd be so angry or disappointed to actually kick her out. "Where am I supposed to go?"
"Whoa whoa whoa." He took both her hands in his and met her eyes directly. "I am your father, and you are always welcome in my home, even if my home is a carboard box on the sidewalk." She held his eyes like a lifeline. "But -- I would understand if home is too painful for you." He wouldn't really, but he would try. Her sobs intensified again and he pulled her into a hug.
"I can't lose everything all at once like this," she cried into his chest. He wasn't certain what she meant, but then neither was she. "What do you mean home is too painful? It's not home it's me. . . it's not you, it's me."
He hugged her tighter. "How has it been at school? How often have you almost died or had to put yourself in danger? How often did you cry like this?"
"I'd rather cry than be all alone," she sniffed. "And it's my job to put myself in danger! You raised me that way!"
Peter kissed her hair. "You're allowed to take some time off from danger to be happy. We've all done it."
"It wouldn't make me happy," she argued. "It would make me feel even more useless than I already do."
Peter pulled back so he could meet her gaze again. "From what I understand of the whole Halloween... situation, you were the least useless person there, and you broke some kind of magical curse."
Her eyes flashed. "And yet I am still the biggest disappointment and problem!"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Who have you disappointed?"
She sat back and crossed her arms. "You're lecturing me right now. And mom isn't even here. And Henry. And Jake. And Jamie." She barely even wants to talk to her anymore. "And Ben just pretends not to be mad at me." Her angry expression faltered slightly. She knew that one wasn't entirely true. "And Tony. And Steve. And Natasha." She swallowed. Peter made a mental note to follow up about Natasha. "And probably other Henry." Even though he would say he doesn't judge her. "At least."
Peter frowned. "I can lecture you if you really want, but call a spade a spade. And now that you've listed almost everyone I know, I want to know which parent you got telepathy from."
"Stop making fun of me!" she shouted, and grimaced because she sounded ridiculous and she knew it.
Peter flailed, which was a little ridiculous on his part, too. "I not making fun of you!"
"I have reasons for everything I said!" Tears streamed down her face. She looked exhausted. "I'm not making it up. . . I'm so tired of feeling crazy. . . "
"How many times do I -- or Ben! -- have to tell you we don't think you're crazy?" She shook her head. "I want to know why you don't believe in me."
Like with Ben earlier she couldn't find an answer. Finally she gave up and shook her head. "I'm messed up. I don't know what to do."
Peter looked very serious again. "I want you to get help."
She nodded, resigned. "Okay."
Peter frowned. She looked like she'd given up. "Do you really want help or is it just that you want to stop fighting?"
"Both." She shrugged. "I want help because I don't know what else to want, and I'm angry and that's wrong, and I definitely don't want to fight anymore because I'm exhausted."
He nodded. "You can ask for a sabbatical from school."
"I should have just stayed in New York in the first place." She looked lost. "I want you to be proud of me. . . "
He put his hands on her shoulders. "If you doubt everything else in your life you should never doubt that I'm proud of you." She looked afraid, and desperate, to believe him. "My daughter slew a dragon."
"Henry slew it," she corrected. "I just 'put myself in danger' so he could." But she gave him the ghost of a smile and fell forward to hug him. "If I stay… I'll get whatever help you want me to but.. I'm not a child. I know you don't always agree with my choices. But…." She didn't know how to explain what she meant and she felt childish for saying it.
"We can work on a combination." He pulled back again, because he wanted to be clear. "You are getting a college degree. It's not negotiable. You are a Parker-Danvers and that is the ONE pressure we will put on you. Otherwise you're allowed to be an adult." He seemed to want a response so she nodded once. "You can move home and work on things from here, if that's what you want. But if you live with us there are rules. And if you're in New York you're living with us. Otherwise you're going back to college. The end. No Jake -- or Henry -- cohabitation."
Amelia was half-relieved and half-sulky about this speech, but she nodded again. "Okay." She added 'for now' in her head. "But just so you understand, I want to go to college. I don't want to give up. I just can't really remember why I wanted to go Maryland and. . . I need to time to figure all this out. But I really do want to finish and I really do want help."
"I'm happy to give you whatever help and time and space I can," Peter assured her. "And you can always come home."
"But I do care about school," she asserted.
"I know." He thought the problem was Amelia cared about too many things. And too many people. He wished she would go back to Baltimore and meet a nice, non-intense boy, or girl, and break up with Jake and Henry, and decide to move to Iowa and keep Des Moines safe.
He just wanted her to be happy.
"I know," he said again and pulled her back into a tight hug and let her cry. He didn't know what she would decide and he didn't know what he'd do when she decided it. He had to talk to Carol. For at least a day. He had to talk to Hellrung. Maybe they could all go into family therapy. Maybe they should all move to Baltimore. Or Des Moines.
He held his little girl and silently vowed he wouldn't let her break any more.