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𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙄𝙀.

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄: Play Ball!

 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

𝟐𝟖 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

☆

                Did Peter Parker think he would ever find himself standing near the bleachers of Midtown's softball field? No. He quite literally would have placed himself anywhere else—like Mars—before he pictured himself standing there watching a bunch of people in baseball caps scream about a ball being hit. Not that he thought any of less of them, but it definitely wasn't his crowd. However, he was there, and he was even more surprised at how many other people there were too. Midtown prided itself on its brainiacs, and Peter forgot that a portion of those brainiacs were also meatheads...or, he supposed, athletic brainiacs—like his partner for class, and Ned's current crush at the moment, Lizzie Carter. 

Apparently, the game they were attending was important, and he had been startled at least five times since they got here by people shouting excitedly when something happened out on the field. Ned didn't understand it any more than him, but he tried, shouting exclaims about Lizzie getting them a point and how she hit the ball in between the squares. They watched Star Wars instead of sports, okay? Not everyone could be smart and athletic. 

"Oh! Oh! There she is! Number three! There she—how—oh my God, I love her. She looks so good in that. Do all softball players look like that? I mean, I guess so—Did you see that? Peter! Did you see her catch that? She's amazing!" Ned cheered, practically jumping up and down when he watched Lizzie dive to catch a ball, the entire front of her uniform covered in dirt now. 

"Uh huh, yeah, amazing," Peter agreed, his eyes still focused on Liz Allen as she took more photos at the game. She looked pretty today, sporting the team's logo on a t-shirt. Then, a body walked in front of him and surprise littered his face. "Michelle?"

Michelle stopped, her nose in her book, then flickered to look up at Peter for a moment. She paused and raised her eyebrows in question. "Yes?"

"I didn't—you like softball?"

"No. My friend plays on the team."

"Oh. Who's your friend?"

"YEAH, LIZZIE! GO NUMBER THREE!"

Michelle blinked at the abrasive calling from Ned before she nodded in his direction. "MJ. We have the same nickname. She asked me to come since it was the last game before playoffs." 

"Oh...okay." 

"...okay. Bye." 

The awkward conversation between them ended when people started to leave from the bleachers and go to the concession stand off to the side, and Peter opened his mouth in confusion, wondering if the game was already over. He thought they were supposed to be abnormally long? Ned didn't seem as confused as Peter expected him to be, grinning excitedly and waving when he noticed two of Lizzie's close friends jump from the top of the bleachers—Arthur and Elijah, both athletes themselves, but Peter was pretty sure both of their seasons were over. He didn't really ever talk to them, Elijah a year older and Arthur usually always around Taylor and Lizzie. 

"Oh, hey! Lizzie said you guys were coming. Sorry, we didn't see you before," Elijah said when he noticed them, the two boys coming up with grins on their face. "Is this the first softball game you guys have been to? You chose a good one." 

Peter nodded, furrowing his brows when he noticed the girls out on the field line up. "Is it already over?" 

"Nah, double-header. They'll play 'em again here in a second. Midtown won the first game. There's a thirty-minute break in between. I think they're going to put Lizzie in to pitch the first few innings, so she should be warming up here in sec. Usually her and Taylor come out though..." Elijah trailed off when he noticed two girls behind Peter's shoulder, coming from the dugout, and he nodded toward them. "Yeah, there they are." 

Both Peter and Ned turned around to see the two girls coming toward them, and Peter found himself momentarily stunted when he saw Lizzie. Her dark hair was in two french braids, a black sports visor with Midtown's logo on the center of it, matching the black jersey he'd seen her wear around with a huge stain of dirt down her side from the dive she took earlier. Paired with the dirty white softball pants, Peter realized that Lizzie looked...kind of...hot? A grin was on her face when she noticed them there, her and Taylor jogging over to the small group they'd assembled.

"Hey! You guys made it!" Lizzie said immediately when she was close enough, stopping in front of him and Ned, her hands going to her hips. A smile was on her face as she inspected both of their expressions, raising her eyebrows with a growing grin. "You understand anything that happened?"

Taylor snorted, off to the side now to push against Art, the two of them fighting with one another. Lizzie turned to look at Ned, awaiting his response, but she raised her eyebrows when she found him too busy staring at Taylor—well, he moved on fast. With him distracted, she focused on Peter, noticing that his face was twisted up looking at her, and she instantly glanced down at herself to see the dirt all over her uniform, figuring that was the reason.

Peter cleared his throat and glanced anywhere but her face for a second. "No, um...yeah, we didn't really...um, know what was going on." 

"C'mon, you can come with me to get a water—Taylor! I'm getting you a gatorade!—okay, so, this is our last game of the season. Today's a double-header against the same team. Anyway, it's pretty simple. There's seven innings—kind of like rounds—and you have two halves of every inning: the top half and the bottom half. One of the teams is at bat until they get out three times, and then it switched to the other team for the bottom half. Once there's six outs in an inning—so, three each—it switches to the next inning. They have to get around all of the bases in order to get a run in...no, it's not a point, and...what am I missing?" 

Lizzie pursed her lips as she thought about it. Peter was quiet, trying to place the pieces together to everything, while simultaneously ignoring the thoughts inside of his head about how good Lizzie looked right now. He needed to find the other Liz and stare at her, not his petunia partner for class. Both of them paused when they got to the front of concession stand line. Lizzie grinned when she noticed who was volunteering for the day. Her dad stood on the opposite side, and Mike's facial expression switched immediately when he noticed his youngest daughter standing there. C.T.'s dad was back there making hotdogs, giving her a wave with a pair of tongs, reminding Lizzie that her ex-girlfriend definitely didn't inherit her evil from her parents. 

"Look who it is. There's my baby," Mike cheered at his daughter, going to grab her a water and hand it her way while he spoke. "I saw that last catch from here. Are they having you pitch next game? I saw you warming up earlier." 

Lizzie nodded and cracked open the water, gesturing toward Peter and stepping to the side to talk with her dad. "Dad, Peter. Peter, this is my dad, Mike—you can get anything you want for you or Ned, on us today—but yeah, they've got me pitching. I need to go warm-up in a second. Who all's here today? I haven't seen anyone else."

"Hey, Peter! Here, let me get you some hotdogs and drinks—" 

Peter flushed at the hospitality. "Oh, you don't have to, we're alright—" 

"Ned likes Dr. Pepper," Lizzie called out to her dad, surprising Peter, who didn't think she'd paid that much attention to them. "Peter likes...Peter, what do you want? You're always drinking the gross milk at lunch. We have gatorade, lemonade, a bunch of different things actually—" 

"Oh, uh...water's fine." 

Lizzie was well-tuned into the awkwardness that was radiating off Peter's body right now. It was hard not to notice, but she wasn't going to bring it up, thinking it was simply because he still felt uncomfortable around her. However, that wasn't true. Peter actually felt awkward because of how comfortable he was. Lizzie had a habit of making everyone around her feel like a part of the family, and in the short interaction he'd had so far with Mike Carter, he understand where she got it from. Peter was also just an awkward person, and meeting parents for the first time was just a stress-inducing mishap waiting to happen. 

Mike leaned off to the side while C.T.'s dad covered the front, making the food for the boys as he did so. "Mom is on her way. Sam is here with Carson somewhere. They've got Sammy right now. They're babysitting until she gets here. Sharon and Steve are here too, so they're probably with them. You'll have to talk to them and see if any of the others are coming." 

"Any updates?"

Peter noticed the way Mike's mood changed momentarily at the new topic, and so did Lizzie's, her grip on her water bottle causing the plastic to crinkle in her hands. Peter was suddenly curious, wondering if it had something to do with why Lizzie wasn't at school last week and missed her game. He knew it was none of his business, but the fact that whatever it was affected her so deeply meant that it was something serious. He just hoped everything was alright. 

"Not yet," Mike denied, shaking his head. Lizzie's shoulders fell. "They're saying our visit helped get her to eat a little, though, so there's some progress. Don't worry about that. Go play for her." 

"Okay. Love you. I gotta head back—hey, can you hand me a blue gatorade for Taylor...no, the dark blue. She hates the light blue." 

Mike handed her the correct gatorade with a knowing look, then gave the food off to Peter, giving him a grin. "Hey, Peter, I know she's a handful, but she's got a good work ethic in her most days. She's been guarding that leaf of hers for days now." 

"It's a petunia—"

Peter flushed, nodding his head as he adjusted the items in his hands. "No, Lizzie's a really good partner—and thank you, you know...for the food. It was nice meeting you." 

"Not a problem. Nice meeting you too, kiddo. Come back here if you need anything else," Mike waved them off, and then he returned back to those who were in line. 

Lizzie moved off to the side with Peter, already finished with her water bottle, and she gave Peter a softer smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bombard you with all of that at once. You guys don't have to stay for the whole game if you don't want to, even though I'm pretty sure Ned's going to be drooling over Taylor the entire time now. I appreciate you coming. Don't feel obligated  to stay because of me, though. I know it can be kind of boring to watch. Eli and Art won't mind you sitting with them if you do stay, they can explain things to you while they happen...so, um, yeah. Thanks again for coming, Peter. I'll text you later on tonight about the project? We can find a time this weekend to hang out and finish up the report part before we present next week."

Why. Was. He Getting. Flustered. He nodded his head to everything she said, trying his hardest to remember that the girl in front of him was his partner and the same Lizzie he'd been intimidated by only a few weeks ago—it was just the uniform, he knew that, especially since he'd never gotten flustered like that before around her. He had been planning on actually speaking, but his words failed him and she was running back to the dug-out to begin warming up for the next game. 

He glanced down at the food in his hands, and then back to the field where Lizzie disappeared, deciding in that moment that he was going to end up staying. So he did. When he returned back to Ned with the food in hand, Taylor had turned to run in the opposite direction back to the field and his best friend was fully-engrossed in a conversation with Art and Eli. They were all grinning, and Peter felt uncomfortable for .02 seconds before they all turned to him. 

"Peter! Listen to this..." 

Lizzie arrived back in the dug-out to see C.T. sitting on the bench, taping up her knee again. She'd injured it a few practices ago, and it hadn't completely healed. Lizzie remembered because she was the first one over to her when it happened, her right-field position putting her in the outfield as well. C.T. glanced up when she heard Lizzie's shoes scuff on the cement ground, and the two girls paused for a moment, an air of tension surrounding them. 

"Are you pitching?" C.T. asked conversationally as she rolled her socks back up. Lizzie hummed in confirmation, making her look up. "Did you put KT tape on your shoulder?" 

Lizzie's jaw clenched and she rolled out her bad shoulder, shrugging. "No, I'm fine. I warmed up earlier and it wasn't bad."

The injury she'd sustained to her shoulder years ago wasn't something she ever wanted reminders of, and having a conversation about it only triggered flashbacks to a life she tried not to get mixed up with this one—the one where she was a softball player, not someone wrapped up in the world of S.H.I.E.L.D. and secrecy. Because of that, she rarely told anyone about the issue she had with her shoulder. Taylor knew because she had been there during the recovery process. Coach knew because she had to. C.T. knew because Lizzie always confided in C.T. first about it, always went to her when her shoulder was tight and needed to pitch...that was months ago, though. After what happened, Lizzie didn't trust C.T. with anything anymore. Things had changed. 

C.T. got up without another word and grabbed the pink tape she'd put on her knee. Lizzie sighed in defeat and untucked her jersey, lifting up off her one shoulder so that that whole side of her body was exposed. She clenched her jaw and glanced down at the floor when she felt C.T.'s hands on her shoulder, pulling her sports bra strap to the side and carefully applying the tape to the area. Lizzie tried to pay attention to anything else, the chattering and laughter happening just outside the dug-out, and was thankful when C.T.'s hands disappeared from her skin. 

"Hey Liz, do you want me to—oh, nevermind then," Taylor said, walking in to see C.T. casually return back to the bench and put the KT tape away, throwing her backpack off to the side and brushing past Taylor, the two girls exchanging a brief look. Lizzie pursed her lips, avoiding eye contact with her best friend, going to grab her glove. "Oh hell no—come on, I'll help you warm up—what was that?" 

Lizzie walked off to the side of the field where a few more of their teammates where, keeping an eye out for particular people of hers on the other side of the fence. Usually her Avengers-related friends stayed further back down the lining of the fence since she was outfield and brought their own chairs (well, her mom and Carson usually did, but the men always decided they would lean up against the fence and risk a ball to the face). 

"She asked me if I put KT tape on yet, I said no, so she helped me put some on," Lizzie explained like it was obvious, and then before Taylor could say anything, she jogged to the other side of the grass (thankfully, they weren't a turf field) a good distance away to start throwing.

"CARTER!" 

Lizzie glanced up after throwing a fast-pitch to Taylor when she heard her last name. Then a grin broke out on her face when she saw who called for her. Off to the side was her huge support system, all of them wearing some degree of Midtown gear that she'd given for certain holidays as an easy present. Steve and Sam were the easiest to spot, even though they were both wearing baseball caps, with Carson and Sharon next to them. Neither one of them were wearing disguises like their boyfriends, but they were wearing other jerseys of Lizzie's she'd let them borrow. Her Ma was next to them, Baby Sammy on her waist with his toddler-sized jersey. After squinting, thankful for her visor against the sun, she realized that Clint was there too, not bothering to wear a baseball cap but hidden further back than the others. Nat, there too, and she snorted in surprise when she realized who the last person wearing a baseball cap was—Tony. Tony was actually at her game, wearing a hat, supporting her. 

She pointed at them, putting two fingers in her mouth quickly to whistle, gaining a grin from those in front before she turned back to Taylor. Further down on the bleachers, Ned and Peter were becoming great friends with Art and Eli. Lizzie hadn't known it then, but that softball game was the last time every one of those people she loved so dearly would be there to support her.

 ───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍, 𝐍𝐘𝐂 ─ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝟐𝟗 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔

"So, are you ever going to tell Liz Allen you have a crush on her?"

Lizzie and Peter had been working most of the day on their project, Padme sitting on her desk in her little box of an apartment at her parents' house. She was laying on the large, fluffy white rug on her floor with Peter seated next to her, his back against her bed frame. They'd taken about twenty breaks since they started, most of which involved them having a heated discussion about what was better—Star Wars or Harry Potter—to which the conversation became about her softball game yesterday. They'd won both games, and Lizzie ended up pitching two more innings that she thought she would, so by the time she had to go back to centerfield, she was a bit worn out. Along with icing her shoulder the rest of the night, she also avoided the looks from C.T. who had definitely been picking up most of the weight during those innings when the ball went to outfield. 

But Lizzie took a quick left turn when Liz Allen's story showed up on her Snapchat, the girl showing some of the puppies at the shelter she'd visited, leading Lizzie to think she may actually be an angel in human form but whatever. Peter looked like he wanted to die right now—literally, his mouth was wide-open, his eyes huge, and a baffled look like he'd been caught redheaded struck on his face at her blunt question. 

"I—wha—Liz—what? Me? No..." Lizzie didn't even have to say anything to that. Peter knew he fucked that one up. He groaned and threw his head back, his hands going to press into his eyes until everything was fuzzy. "Is it that obvious? Because if you know, that means everyone probably knows—" 

Lizzie tapped her pen on her notebook, pursing her lips. "I mean, not necessarily. I'm actually pretty good at reading a room and people." 

"I've noticed." 

"Sorry. I can't turn it off," she shrugged, then she raised her eyebrows at him. "So? Are you going to do anything about it? Because she's a nice girl, and I'm sure she'd like you. You just need to put yourself out there." 

"Easy for you to say. I bet you've had a hundred boyfriends." 

"Um, well, no, and a lot of them ended badly. My first kiss was with this girl in D.C. whenever I stayed with my sister down there, and we stopped talking a year ago when she got into this toxic relationship and her girlfriend at the time hated me. Her name's Casey. We haven't really talked since. She'll like my Insta posts and we're fine, I guess, but things are different. My second relationship was with this guy named Ben who ended up being toxic too—I swear to you, I'm convinced I attract them—and so we broke up because he was super possessive...oh, I'm bisexual by the way. I probably should have mentioned that before." 

Peter glanced up at the parting statement. "That's cool, but you know this isn't helping right?" 

"If it makes you feel better, I didn't even get to the worst one." 

"Oh great," he said sarcastically, looking at her. "Did this one kill someone?" 

Lizzie blinked in surprise for a moment, caught off guard that Peter had actually made a funny joke since he was always so shy and to himself, then she grinned. "That's the Peter I've been hearing about from Ned! But no...well, she might have, Taylor seems to think she's secretly a serial killer but I think that's mainly because she serial-killed my heart into pieces. Do you know C.T. Clemins?" 

"Isn't she a sophomore? She's on the softball team, too, right? I heard her name whenever she was batting at the game yesterday."  

"I'm very surprised and very proud right now, Peter Parker." His cheeks flustered, and she smirked before she sat up a bit straighter. "But yeah, that's her. We met last summer whenever I was picked up for softball on the varsity team at Midtown. I had a huge crush on her for the first few months, and then we kind of...just got together? I don't know. It wasn't like dating-dating but I still consider her an ex, but...anyway, things were fine and great and then one day after practice she broke up with me no excuse—so yeah, I guess we were dating—and I was like 'What the hell?' because who does that to a person, right? Well, Taylor and I found out that it was because Coach was trying to switch up positions for the upcoming season and she was considering replacing C.T. in the line-up because the seniors were saying 'it wouldn't be good to have us on the field right next to each other'. So she broke up with me, but then whenever Coach was fixing positions, C.T. tried to mention something about my shoulder being the reason why I shouldn't pitch—" 

Peter, who had been listening intently to the verbose rant from Lizzie (he'd learned quickly she had a tendency to do that), stopped her in confusion. "Wait, what happened to your shoulder?" 

Lizzie suddenly stopped talking, and her lips pressed together tightly. Peter had recognized that to be the first sign of the girl closing up and deciding not to speak on something. Lizzie, on the other hand, was trying to decide whether or not she felt comfortable telling Peter what happened to her a few years ago—obviously omitting any serious details as she had with everyone else who asked (i.e. evil Nazi-organization set out to kill her and her superhero babysitter). Considering her training and how she was raised, Lizzie was good at keeping secrets. But then the genuineness in Peter's face, paired with the aching in her shoulder at the moment, had her feeling more open than usual. 

"When I was thirteen, I was in a really bad accident...um," she rolled off her stomach and into a sitting position, her left leg outstretched. She pointed to a spot on her knee, and he noticed the scar. Then she glanced at her right hand, and he realized for the first time that small scars were on her knuckles too. "I had a fracture in my knee, but that one healed fine. I broke a few knuckles in my right hand, but there was a bigger problem in my shoulder. They called in a humorous shaft fracture. Funny, how you never forget those things, right? There was a lot of nerve damage. I have screws and rods in my shoulder now, but...yeah. I went through PT for a while, and therapy. A lot of it. The docs told me I probably wouldn't be able to pitch the same way I used to, along with other things I love doing. I make do and hurt the next day." 

Like with archery. 

When she looked up, Lizzie could feel the tightness in her chest loosen when she noticed that Peter was not staring at her with pity. That always happened. Instead, understanding was written all over his face, and he nodded with his eyes still on the scar on her left knee. Lizzie, feeling more bold than usual, pulled off the hoodie that she was wearing so that she was only in a tank-top and shorts. Peter didn't even react or flush to the action, already knowing where her mind was at when she gestured toward the spot on her shoulder where a long, scar went down her shoulder blade. 

"That was shitty of her," was all Peter said. 

Lizzie laughed immediately, the wave of tension rolling out of the room. She nodded, glancing down at her hands for a moment, before she looked back up at Peter with a thankful smile on her face. "Yeah. Yeah, it was...so, maybe, we don't take advice from me on relationships...hey, Peter?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you." 

He looked confused. "For what?" 

"Not giving me that look of pity that I hate," she explained, shrugging softly as she picked at a piece of the fuzzy carpet. Now, the roles had been reversed, and she was the one feeling uncharacteristically shy. "I hate that look...I just—I'm a pretty happy person most of the time, or at least I try to be, but there's a lot of things going on in my head that I don't always talk about. You're a good listener. You got me to talk about two of those things in a matter of minutes." 

"I get it. I hated getting that look when my Uncle Ben died." Lizzie's head lifted and her eyes shined in recognition. He gave her a one-shoulder shrug, his lip quirking halfway. "It was a while ago. Aunt May and I are getting better, but it's always harder whenever people stop us and tell us how great he was—'cause we knew, you know? He was...he was our person. We don't need those reminders. We won't forget." 

Lizzie's mouth was drying, which usually became the first indication to her that she was on the verge of tears. Peter's words struck a cord in her, reminding her of the thought living in the back of her mind constantly about the state of her Aunt Peggy. Hearing him talk about his uncle only made the feeling of emptiness in her chest grow—she knew she was mourning someone who wasn't yet dead, and there would be a greater pain when it happened, but Lizzie always knew there would be a part of her that never accepted it even after it happened. 

"My aunt is dying," she blurted out, surprising even herself when it came out of her mouth. Peter's face changed briefly in surprise before it was softening again. "That's what I was doing last week, visiting her. She has Alzheimer's...um, she's not...she's not doing great. You know my nickname? MJ? It means Margaret Junior. She's been my role model since I could walk, and I'm trying to wrap my head around it, but..." 

"It's not something you can ever really wrap your head around," he interrupted her softly, and she met his eyes, tears starting to blur her vision. "There's nothing wrong with that, though, you know? A lot of people feel that way. Death is weird." 

"Yeah..." Lizzie rubbed her nose, clearing her throat. She sat up straighter, breathing out a deep exhale to get rid of all the blues in her chest. "Okay. I'm done. Let's get this stupid project done so we can have a good summer and be finished with freshman year already."

Peter nodded and they got back to working on their final project together, only taking a break to eat the quesadillas that Lizzie's mom made for them—it was after meeting Sophia Carter for the first time that Peter understood where Lizzie's intimidation-factor came from—before they returned back to Padme. That weekend, from the softball game to the all-day-homework-session, changed Peter's perception of Lizzie Carter. No longer was she just some athlete with a name that intimidated him. 

Instead, he was beginning to realize that there was a lot to Lizzie that she didn't let people see. He was lucky that she felt like she could talk to him about things because, while they may have only really known each other for a few weeks, Peter could tell that she was the kind of person you trusted fast and stayed friends with forever. At least, he hoped so, because could see himself and Lizzie Carter becoming close friends in the future.

───○☆ ✸ ☆○───

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍, 𝐍𝐘 ─ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄 & 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

When Lizzie returned back to her and Sharon's apartment later that night, exhausted beyond belief, she barely registered the fact that her sister wasn't home when she got inside. Steve, however, was sitting on the couch hovering over a beige manila folder that reminded her too much of the ones she'd seen all the time at S.H.I.E.L.D. all those years ago. He didn't look up when she came in, which meant he was engrossed in whatever it was. Lizzie being Lizzie, grabbed a drink from the fridge before making her way over to their small seating area. She snatched up her favorite blanket on the way, wrapping it around her shoulders and sitting down with her knees to her chest directly next to Steve. 

He glanced over at her upon her arrival, giving her a smile and pressing a kiss to the side of her head before he returned back to the manila folder. She leaned her head on his shoulder, peering over it so that she could see what it was. When she recognized the picture clipped on the left side, she frowned. 

"No updates?" she asked quietly, one of her hands reaching for her dog tags unconsciously. 

He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "No. Sam and Carson haven't stopped looking, but there's not been anything new come up. We're just...hoping now. In more than one way. How're you doing? You're home late." 

"I was at Mom and Dad's working on a project for school," she explained, her eyes ahead to watch the TV Steve must've had on the news a few hours ago, but now was playing a re-run of Family Feud. "I'm fine. My shoulder's sore today, but it's fine—we won, and I've got a few days to rest before we start play-offs. Tell everyone I said thank you for coming the other day, by the way. You guys didn't need to do that." 

Steve closed the folder and tilted his head to the side to look at her. "You know we've always got your back. I told you I wouldn't miss a game if I was here. I know I've been gone a lot toward the end—" 

"—stop," she interrupted. "You have a reason. I'd rather you find him than watch me. It's more important. Besides, you've seen me play a lot over the years. I'm pretty sure you've been to more games than a lot of the parents of the girls on our team this year."

"I just don't want you think I'm not there for you." 

 "Yeah, that'll never happen. I know you're always there for me. You always have been," she dismissed the concern out of his mind, squeezing his arm comfortingly. She watched one of the families win on the TV. "The same applies to you too, you know? You don't have to go through what you're going through right now by yourself. I know it's your way of processing things, but...I've always been here. I'm not Sharon, or Sam—you've always got a place to talk with me. I'm always going to be that annoying thirteen-year-old from D.C. bugging you around every corner." 

"Don't I know it," he scoffed sarcastically, and when she gasped and shot her head off his shoulder to give him a look, he laughed and raised his hands up. "Kidding. Kidding...I know you're always going to be my MJ—just older...and stronger. I'm grateful to be apart of your life, MJ. I hope you know that." 

"Don't I know it." 

Steve and Lizzie both smiled, something that had been lacking in their interactions together with the state of Peggy Carter weighing hard on their minds. But at the end of the day, the story initially started with the two of them—Lizzie and Steve, her Neighbor-Steve and his MJ, and they would always have that to hold onto. She may confide in other people now-a-days, but he would always take the highest rank in her heart.

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Author's Note: 

I'm aliveeeeee. Softball!Lizzie really came out in this chapter. I'm so happy with the way it turned out though. Softball is such a key part of her identity and her person as a teenage girl, so I wanted to include that as a separation from the scenes we see of her as a 'spy' or a superhero-in-training. I loved writing it.

We got to hear the story to her and C.T.! I hope it makes sense. I wanted to show that C.T. has a good heart, it was just a little misguided during the events of their breakup, and she'll still have a key importance to Lizzie. We also get an update on her past-relationship with Casey from part one. 

As always, let me know what you thought about this chapter! Thankfully, I'm getting close to  the end of the semester and only have finals left so once those are over, I'll be back to writing this story regularly for a while!