Chapter 7: Bliss
"I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."
-Galileo
I wrung my hands, trying to stop tapping my foot. It was scarcely two hours after my little vision, and we were all waiting for Peter in the Court.
"We waiting?"
"For bug boy? Why?" Sam scoffed.
"Patience is a virtue."
"So is punctuality! Spider-Man's late, we train without him." Ava clenched her fists, ready to attack the approaching robots. "Court is now in session."
I closed my eyes, concentrating. One of the drones zapped me, but I easily absorbed the blow. I was tired, hungry for energy. It was simple to drain the couple of robots that bothered to approach me. Perhaps not the best method of improving one's skills, but I was in no mood for training.
"It's wreaking havoc," Ava said, rolling her eyes at Sam as we stood before the wreckage.
"So, let's put it to a vote. All in favor of changing our name to 'Team Nova' raise your hands." Sam lifted his own arm high in the air like a flag, but everyone else was too busy staring at Spider-Man.
He was in a red and gold suit, similar to Iron Man's, barely able to manage keep himself in the air. "Y-yes, you can believe your eyes people! Science has made what was perfect, even better. Don't worry, everything's cool. See, I'm operating on a new level you don't, quote, 'comprehend'." Peter swerved from side to side, occasionally crashing into walls. I ducked as he flew over us, unable to control his new tec.
Three arms extended from the suit, the same way that Doc Ock's did. He managed to get them caught on a drone, which then began shooting beams at us. When Peter was finally able to stand up, he didn't look the least bit bewildered at the sheer amount of damage that he had caused; he actually had the nerve (or stupidity) to look smug. "How do you guys like me now?" Peter proudly crossed his arms.
"You suck," I said, storming out. The lights flickered, finally deciding to give their energy to me instead. Peter tripped over his foot, falling face first to the ground.
"Hey! I don't—" A loud crash interrupted him. I had lost my patience with the door, which seemed to be taking a millennium to open. It crumpled up from the sheer force of me slamming it.
"She is not in the best of moods," I heard Danny say. Footsteps followed me. I was embarrassed by my outburst, but more ashamed of my weaknesses. They haunted me, jeeringly shouting all of my worst fears.
My first instinct was to leave the Helicarrier, but even I knew that doing so would be dumb. Time would have simply managed to remember some duty that I had failed to fulfill. A cold metal hand touched my shoulder, and I slapped it away. "I mean it, Peter. You suck."
"But—" His sentence was cut short as he crashed into the nearest wall. I shook my head at him, retreating to my bedroom to beat up my pillows. Feathers drifted down lazily like snowflakes on a frosty day in December, tickling my nose. I pounded my fists against the mattress, letting myself sink into the steady rhythm of my breaths.
…...
Sunday. I visited Ali. She was actually awake for a few hours that day, which surprised me. Somehow, she was cheerful despite her situation. We talked about life in general; although my words were carefully chosen and picked bare, Ali was brimming with smiles and happy thoughts that seemed to reflect her true state of mind. I considered telling her about Nick's offer, but decided to postpone such news until my next visit. She made me give her a full report on 'Dan-Dan' as she jokingly called him for sake of anonymity. Despite having never met him, Ali regarded him above all other people, and thought quite fondly of him. Overall, for a seven year old who was on death's door, she was beautifully and naively joyful about the whole matter of life.
It was cruel that her hopes were so high. She was completely convinced that she would live, that she could and would get better. No one could deny that there was one reason that she was still alive: me. I was the only visitor she ever received, and I knew how dearly she looked forward to our weekly talks. Ali always had drawings to give me, and a pile of picture books resided on her bed stand. The white, sterile walls were covered in torn out pages from her National Geographic Kids magazines that the hospital provided. Nurses told me that she was brave soul, their favorite little patient.
That week I had brought her a toy dog, which she held close to her heart throughout my entire visit, sleepily waving his tiny black paw as I turned to say goodbye. Ali named him Lucky, because she said she was "lucky to have a friend". Tears welled up in my eyes when she said that; Ali had no friends her age, with only the hospital employees and I to keep her company. Before I left she had made me promise to bring 'Dan-Dan' to visit her soon.
Monday evening, Danny and I finally went shopping. As I pushed one cart and he another, I began thinking. Doubting myself. I didn't know how much longer I could juggle my mutation, Time's jobs, my friends, Ali, and S.H.I.E.L.D; I was starting to realize that this was truly taking a toll on me, from my health to my personal relationships. Yet I still told myself that if Abby could do it, then so could I.
"Hey, Danny, what veggies should we get?"
He glanced down at the very long list of foods. "A lot of everything, from the looks of it." Danny piled soup cans into the cart.
"Gosh, we go through a ton of food." I stared at the sheer quantity of stuff in the carts.
"We are only getting started, I am afraid," Danny chuckled.
"At least we don't have much homework..." I trailed off, staring at a poster on the wall. It screamed insults about mutants, superheros—how we all deserved to die, go to jail, that sort of thing—and it really hit home. I quickly busied myself with the list, struggling to ignore the guilt gnawing at my conscience.
Danny's soft eyes followed me. "How does yoga in the park sound?" he offered, his kindness mingling with the generous words. "I believe that there is a tomorrow."
"I—I can't," I said, unable to look at him. "I have some... family stuff."
"Emma... Can I not meet your family?" I whirled around to face Danny, and he gave me a lopsided smile.
"It's not like that... I'm not really in touch with many of them anymore, they just hate me, except for Ali... It's just my problem. Don't worry about it." I took a deep breath in and stared at the array of foods.
"Emma, once two men were out in the ocean in a boat. One of them began drilling in the bottom of the boat, and the other, aghast, said, 'What are you doing?!' And the first man replied, 'It's all right. I'm only drilling on my side.' Do you understand what—"
"Yes," I said, cutting him off, "I do."
"Then it is time that I meet this Ali."
"Danny, she's..." I took a deep breath in. "She's dying to meet you."
…...
Looking back, my word choice was ironic and purposeful. I meant for them to have the hidden meaning, the dark connotation.
It was strange to walk to the hospital with another person. I felt oddly self-conscious around Danny that day, as if I was afraid of his rejection. Halfway there, I darted into the nearest candy shop and began searching the shelves for a new type of candy to bring. Danny wordlessly observed me, a solemn look on his face. After I had decided on a new flavor of gummy worms, I set the box of candy on the counter, digging through my pocket for a spare ten. Danny slapped a hundred on the counter to the utter bedazzlement of the clerk, and I followed him out of the shop.
When we finally arrived at the hospital, I felt a brief sense of familiarity. The cold lobby, filled with scratchy leather chairs, and the elevator stinking of cleaner; I had been through there countless times in the past year, and while the people changed, the building itself did not. I watched the other children waiting to see their brother or sister, the weary parents dashing from their jobs then their ill child and back to work again. I knew a bit of how they felt, absorbing some amount of their energies. They came and went; I was disheartened that the majority of visitors to the section of the hospital that Ali resided in seemed depressed, leaving in tears when bad news greeted them. It was mostly bad news around there. The entire point of this sector seemed to be to die within, not to heal.
Still, it was familiar, and once you have seen so many grieving families, it begins to blend together—or it should have. For me, each person was an individual who had the potential to make or break my day, stranger or not. I knew that I should not let my emotions and others' energies reign so much over me, but I couldn't help it; I was sensitive and empathetic by nature.
Danny seemed unaccustomed to such loss, though; for the first time, I saw uncertainty flicker across his face, before he regained control over his emotions. I knew what he was telling himself—all those philosophical, happy quotes about death being a new beginning, fresh path, all of that sort of Zen stuff that I had tried repeating as a sort of mantra. I knew that that sort of thing didn't work here. This was grief itself, and Danny was quite sensitive to energies. Not in the same way that I was, but close enough. He had training, and he was beyond experienced in Chi energy.
At least he had a kind of filter protecting him from the onslaught of emotion, but I felt the raw sadness in its untainted, pure state. I embraced it, letting it consume me, then pass right through. It was empowering in some ways, yet completely draining.
I stared at the neon green package in my hands, rubbing my fingers over the cardboard as though it were the Buddha's belly and would somehow grant me luck. A smiling nurse led us down the hallway to Ali's room, past the ugly wallpaper and cartoon posters. Inside, Ali was propped up by pillows, playing with Lucky.
Her hair was freshly washed, still a bit damp, and pulled back into a beautiful fishtail. I wanted to laugh at her adorable Curious George hospital gown—it was one of the only cartoons that she liked, and I had the distinct feeling that she had picked it out herself. When I saw her twinkling blue eyes and toothy grin, I could almost forget about all of the machines keeping her alive.
"Emmy!" she cried, throwing open her arms for a hug. I carefully embraced her, avoiding the tubes and wires with the air of one who has done so far too many times. Danny's smile was warm and welcoming to the child. Ali recognized him instantly even though she had never seen even a photo of him. "Dan-Dan!"
Danny threw me a questioning look, but I only shrugged in response, leaving it to him to fill in the blanks.
"Hey, Ali," I said softly. "Feeling better?"
"Yup, never been better!" she replied cheerfully. "You finally brought him!"
"Him?" Danny asked politely, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.
"You!"
"Ah, I see. I am famous now." Danny sat down on the edge of the bed. A playful smile lingered on his lips, and I couldn't stop grinning.
"Did you come to bring me home?" Ali pleaded. He glanced at me, and I guiltily wrung my hands.
"Uh, Ali... about that..." I said uncertainly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this, to make this decision, but it was now or never. "Ali... I seriously think it's time to come home." Her eyes lit up, and relief flooded throughout me. "Be right back, okay? Just got to see how soon they'll let you leave." I dragged Danny back out.
For a moment, he stared at me like I couldn't possibly be doing this, as if I couldn't exist. Then he reached out and touched me on the cheek. "You are amazing."
I blushed. "No, Danny, I'm not." I took a deep breath in. "Ali's dying. She's not going to make it—she shouldn't even be alive. I'm buying her time, you know? Waiting for a cure, waiting like so many others. Nothing works. She's this innocent, naïve child. She doesn't have a family, just me. I'm bringing her home because she deserves to live the next few months with her only family, you know?" I shook the tears away. "This is so stupid. I wish I could trade places with her."
Danny lifted my chin up. "This is not your fault."
"She's seven, Daniel. Seven. Same age you were when you were an orphan. How did that feel? That loss is crippling to a kid like her. You know that firsthand. But you learned that you would become king, and she found out that she's going to die. Big difference. And look, she's smiling. Flipping smiling.
"What am I supposed to do? You know, I'm the only person who comes to visit. She's been obsessed with meeting you. Says you're her idol, you're awesome, you're a hero. I say, what about Spider-Man? The Avengers? Fantastic Four? And Ali shakes her head. No, I want to meet Dan-Dan. The rest of them just got superpowers, he earned this. She actually said that."
What was Danny supposed to say? I had left him without any suitable quotes or tidbits of advice to give, only the barren truth.
That was why two hours later we were pushing a wheelchair out of the hospital. At every bird, every wrapper that was being blown by the breeze, Ali would start yelling. She loved being outside. In the sunlight, she seemed smaller, frailer, yet more alive. After a little while, she tired, and was soon fast asleep. Danny bought her a fuzzy puppy blanket and draped it over her. He was pulling the little cart with the oxygen tank and medications while I pushed the chair. It was strangely peaceful.
I think that's one of my favorite memories; the three of us walking through the Big Apple. Of course, I treasure all of my moments that I had with Danny, but that was one of my favorites. It still makes me want to cry, after everything that has happened. So many dead.
Nowadays, everything seems wrong. Back then, I was ignorant, and happy because of it. I mean, May shouldn't have had to die. That broke Peter's heart, that day. Same day that Danny almost bit the dust, except I was there to help him up again. Deadpool had no honor in doing her in—it was just plain cruel. He laughed at Peter's face, Peter's tears.
At least that didn't happen for a little while longer. Not until we found Luke's parents did things start to truly go wrong. I mean, it was then that I discovered that my Other Life really had happened.
But that day with Danny and Ali was wonderful.
Wednesday, unfortunately, wasn't so great. From the moment I woke, I knew something bad was going to happen. I dragged myself through the shower, all the way to school. I should have been happy after the night before, but bringing Ali to the Helicarrier had been hard for me. Hard to accept her diagnosis, hard to watch her sleeping little face and know that she would be dead within a year. Hard to come to the conclusion that I would have to bury this young soul, hard to realize that I couldn't save her.
You can't save everyone. That was the one thing I wish I had known at the time. It's one of those unfortunate truths. Peter has had it pounded into him, one thing after the other, but I failed to see it in spite of everything that I had experienced.
How could Ali never go to school? Not have any friends, never kiss that special boy, unable to graduate or go to college. She would never travel the world, never be like her precious Dan-Dan. She would never have the chance to be somebody. Ali would simply be the pitiful child who had her life cut short, remembered as a sweetheart who was constantly brave throughout her brief years.
Ali's sweet smile haunted me as I struggled with my stupid geometry. Halfway through first period, I was saved by 'detention'.
After the brief mission in which Peter managed to sabotage any chance of us defeating the dude who had done something or other that was wrong, Fury allowed us to return to the Helicarrier. I couldn't stop the relief from flooding through me as I walked into my room, ready to plop onto my bed—I was exhausted. There was a small problem, though.
Someone was already sitting on the bed.
…
Looking back? I can't believe that I fell for Brian's lie. I thought that he cared—after all, he saved my life countless times. Not to say that I loved him, because I never did, and believe me. Never is a strong word. I loved—love—Danny, but I always considered Brian in the same innocent way that I did when I first met him at the tender age of six.
I actually took that scum's words to heart. No matter how many times I tell myself that, I fail to accept it. I was blind. Of course he worked for Bereave! That was Bereave's whole thing, controlling the dead and all. Giving me that stupid curse.
When I left my bedroom the following morning, I had a hopeful outlook for the day. After another grueling mission in which Peter set half of the block on fire, though, I was basically drained. That was why when Danny invited me onto the roof of the Helicarrier 'for a moment', I figured that he was being his usual kind, thoughtful self.
I'd never been so happy before. It was a gorgeous ring, made of the purest silver that I had ever set my eyes upon. The band was swirly, intertwining with itself in numerous places, and cupped the stone in its intricate pattern. The stone was black opal, holding every color under the sun. It wasn't large or gaudy, and that was the way that I liked it.
The next morning, I woke up confused by the ring on my finger. Why is that there? Then the memories of the day before rushed back to me, and I grinned stupidly to myself. Everything felt so good like this, so completely, honestly perfect. My cheeks were flushed from smiling so much, and I wore a brightly colored yellow shirt that reflected my mood.
Luke winked at me on the way to breakfast. "He finally got up the courage, eh?" I didn't answer, just skipped over to the kitchen, pulling out the eggs, milk, sugar, flour, baking soda, and butter. I mixed the batter, humming to myself, and poured it in round circles on the pan. Flipping the pancakes onto a plate, I poured syrup over them, and set them in the center of the table for people to grab as they came. Luke snatched a large one, stuffing it in his mouth.
Sam walked in, sniffing the air. "Hey, I thought I was the cook around here!" He paused. "Not that I'm complaining—less work for me!" He stabbed a pancake with his fork, chewing loudly.
Ava frowned suspiciously at me. "Since when do you hum or make pancakes?"
"Since today!" I replied cheerfully, carrying another plate over to the table. She squinted at my hand, and her eyes widened.
"What the hell is that?!"
Luke leaned back in his chair casually, a knowing look in his eyes. Sam choked on his food, jumping up to get a better look at my hand. "Fat's wa wing!"
"A ring?!" Ava screeched.
Danny chose that moment to step into the kitchen, looking bewildered by the shouting. "What is all of the noise?" Ava leaped from her chair, shaking Danny by the shoulders.
"YOU ASKED HER?"
"Asked who what?" Danny feigned innocence.
"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"
"God, you're loaded now, Em," Sam nodded at me. I rolled my eyes.
"SHUT UP BUCKET BRAIN!"
"Jeez! Calm down, already," Sam said.
"AND SHE SAID YES?"
Danny's eyes were wider than I had even seen them before. "Y-yes..."
Ava gave him an enormous hug, squeezing the air out of him. "FINALLY!"
"W-wait, what?"
"So when's the wedding, Rand?" Sam grinned teasingly.
"Wedding?"
"Yeah, duh," Sam said. "You know, when it's all sappy and you say 'I do', and give her a big smoochie?"
"Um..."
"Please shut up," I requested sweetly.
"Uh, guys, hate to break it to you, but we're going to be late for school..." Luke trailed off.
"Shit!" Ava exclaimed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and running out the door.
"Do the two lovebirds need a ride?" Sam sang. Luke punched him in the shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"
At school, nobody seemed to notice, not even Peter—which made sense, because I wasn't an outgoing person, and when you added that to the fact that almost no one knew that I had ever been on a date, let alone been in a serious relationship.
It wasn't a big surprise that Danny had proposed; we had long since decided on the entire K'un L'un affair. Besides, the monks rarely approved a relationship, and he could only have dated someone if he was serious about marriage. They believed in 'one true love', and so did I.
Nothing could have spoiled my mood that day. Nothing. I felt perpetually happy. And I had every right to be joyful—and being joyful included a lot of kissing.