Warnings: Character death.
Spoilers: None, really
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Notes: Written for Death Bingo. Prompt: Old age.
She's standing on the porch watching the ocean. She's tired — they're all tired — and she's leaning against the railing. Peter's sleeping and Nick can catch whispers of dreams from him but they're faint and distant. Summer is long past and the air is cold but this place has been home to them longer than anywhere else and he knows they won't be returning to the city this year.
***
He remembers long days spent at the beach house watching Peter and Olive swimming. He doesn't like the water but it makes them happy so he loves it for that. They bound up the sand like puppies and water glitters on their skin like gems. They're racing up the stairs of the house and Olive is winning, just barely, and Peter catches her around the waist and pulls her back. They're laughing and they tumble into the hammock and it sways wildly under them.
***
She turns and even in the gray light of the storm-dimmed sky her eyes flash pale green. She brushes her fingers over his as she passes and follows her down the hall, automatic as breathing.
***
He remembers the first time he kissed Olive — really kissed her, not just something between friends. He remembers the feel of her hair when he buries his fingers in it and the press of her lips and how complete she makes him feel. He remembers the first time he kissed Peter, too.
***
Peter doesn't stir when she settles on the bed next to him. She curls against him and lets her eyes drift closed and she's so tired. Nick turns the light out and it's started raining, little drops battering against the windows. He pulls the fluffy comforter over them and settles against Peter. He brushes his hand across Olive's cheek and her eyes flutter open.
***
He remembers when Peter gave them their rings. They're a surprise for New Year's Eve the year after the war ends — after they save the world —and Nick is amazed that Peter kept it a secret but Peter likes surprising them. Peter's so nervous, almost embarrassed when he gives them the little boxes that each have two rings, each ring with one name etched inside the band. They're plain, unadorned titanium and Olive whispers, "Perfect," when she puts one ring on each hand and smiles.
***
It startles him even though he's expecting it. Peter goes still and the presence of his mind dims. Nick feels empty, achingly empty, like part of him is missing. Olive's hand tightens around his and the exhaustion is over whelming. He watches her eyes across Peter's still chest until they close again, until she's sleeping. He watches her for a long time and the storm has past by the time she goes still and he's alone. It's hard to fall asleep without them.
***
He remembers when they were little, laying in the field behind the school. They are blowing the fluff off dandelions and making wishes.
"Tell me what you wished for."
"It doesn't work if you say it out loud." He usually didn't mind but this one was important.
"That's not true."
He sneaks a glance at Olive. She's laying on her back counting clouds. She'd know if it was true or not. She nudges him with one bare foot.
"It doesn't matter. They're just weeds. They can't make wishes happen so it doesn't matter if you say it out loud or not."
He looks back at Peter. Peter is bigger than he is and teases him sometimes but he's his best friend other than Olive. He almost doesn't want to tell in case Peter thinks it's stupid but this is a good wish.
"I wish that we're always together. That we're always friends."
Olive rolls over and looks at him and Peter smiles. "Yeah. That's a good wish."
Nick smiles black at them. Later they go to the stream and look for frogs and secretly Nick thinks that Olive is wrong about dandelions making wishes happen.