chapter thirty-seven

The Royal Pavilion was a nice building to sit atop and mull things over. J.D wore a pair of dark pants and a hoodie while she was sneaking around, managing to stay out of sight as she climbed up to the roof. The moon was high in the sky that night, though a light blanket of rain spat on the grassy grounds of Brighton. J.D didn't mind. She liked the cold weather, it helped her think.

She'd been lying on her bed only an hour ago, trying to wrap her head around the decision she was supposed to be making. She couldn't seem to clear her mind, so she'd jumped out the window and taken a stroll through the quiet town. It was a Sunday night, so many of the city folk were in their homes awaiting the working day ahead, leaving her to her own devices.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" she mumbled, leaning against one of the pillars and staring up at the sky, raindrops falling on her forehead. She sighed, and looked down at the backpack she had brought with her, hesitating for the briefest of moments before reaching for it and pulling the zipper open.

Involuntary tears sprung in her eyes as her fingers touched the cool fabric of the Bladerunner mask. She pulled the accessory out and sat it on her lap, staring down at the intricate design. She hated it. But at the same time, it had allowed her to save people. It had helped her overcome her trauma from her time in Sokovia. It was her connection to Pietro, to Wanda, to Peter.

Peter.

She looked down at the necklace charm that sat on her collarbone. Through her blurry vision, the metal chain glinted. God, she missed him. He was her light in the darkness and the one person she knew could bring a smile to her face. He couldn't fix her; no one could but herself, but she knew how pure of heart he was.

Sniffling a little and wiping her nose on her sleeve, J.D swallowed the lump in her throat and threw the uniform to the side, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and released a shaky sigh. What was she supposed to do?

As much as she despised the character, the Bladerunner would always be a part of her. Unlike Peter, who jumped at any chance to be Spider-Man, she ran away from her powers. She hadn't used them in such a long time, she didn't know if she still had it in her to try. But if this woman Steve spoke of was as dangerous as implied, she couldn't let anyone get hurt. Her driving forces had always been her friends and family. So, what stopped her now?

It was the new need to take care of herself.

She had grown since last year. She wasn't going to put herself in harm's way because she had no value for her life, as now, she did. If faced with the situation, she would protect others before herself, but the things she used to do were unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. She didn't need to hurt Flash in retaliation for his actions, or live recklessly with no interest in the consequences.

When she had told Peter about her plans to move to England, he had initially been upset. It was understandable. But his excuse besides missing her was that she wasn't fulfilling her role as a hero. She had been given powers, and she was choosing not to use them. What was the point in being special if you couldn't help others? She understood to a point, but from all the horrors she had faced, was it too much to ask for a break? She wanted to settle down, finish high school, go to college. She wanted to live. She wanted to live without the fear of being hurt, or having those she loved getting hurt because of her.

That was the reason she had come to Brighton.

She could say no. She could walk away from Steve Rogers or tell him to find someone else. But she knew that he believed in her. It was, in truth, her duty to help others in need. Like Ben Parker had said, 'with great power comes great responsibility.'

"Damn it," J.D buried her head in her hands, viciously rubbing her tears away. She hated feeling so conflicted, but in this case, she knew what she had to do, she just didn't want to do it.

+++

"Why are all your friends old?" Gus queried, sliding into the seat opposite J.D. They had gone to the local library so Steve could do some research using the internet, and J.D was keeping a lookout for any kind of threat all while reading an assortment of Asterix books. Currently, she was flicking through Asterix and Cleopatra, her personal favourite. Her eyes were still glued to the colourful page as she pulled a face at her guardian's comment.

"I have plenty my own age," she scoffed, crossing her arms and playfully glaring up at the raven haired man, who snorted and placed a New York guide on the table in front of him. J.D's eyes flickered over to the computer suite, where Steve was trying to work a desktop computer, his blond eyebrows knitted together in both concentration and confusion. "You know, I've always wondered why people think a good disguise is a hoodie and a pair of glasses. I mean, I guess it's inconspicuous, but you still have the same face."

"Darling, don't change the subject. You're friends are all a billion years old. You're buddies with Methuselah over there, that Tony Stark chap, Natasha and then Wanda Maximoff. I've only met one of the younger ones, and that's Marcy," Gus challenged, a charming grin plastered on his face. "She's seems nice, though."

J.D rolled her eyes and returned to her gaze to the book, a light smile on her lips. "I have more 'younger ones' back in New York."

"And I finally get to meet them all," Gus responded happily, and J.D chuckled, shaking her head. "What? They took care of you before I did, I should thank them."

"If you say so," J.D hummed and let her eyes return to Steve, who was in the process of running his hand through his blond locks in exasperation.

"So, have you come to a decision yet?" Gus inquired, leaning forward a little with a curious expression.

J.D groaned, resting her forehead on her arms, not moving when Gus reached for her hand. She lifted her head slightly, so her eyes met his. "Yeah, I have."

"And?" He quirked a brow and she sighed softly, pursing her lips.

"I'm gonna go," she said, and Gus nodded a little, neither smiling nor frowning.

"Okay," he muttered, before clearing his throat. "But, I'm going with you and I'm making sure your uncle, Nat and Stark are always looking out for you before Mason comes afterwards. He has an art exhibition soon, and he doesn't want to miss it. He doesn't have to know why we're going back yet, but there's no way in hell you're getting into shit again, so no funny business, alright?"

"I promise," J.D chuckled and Gus forced a smile, but J.D saw right through it. She was scared to return, but she knew that Gus was terrified of letting her back into the dangerous life she once led. He had seen the damage that had been caused when he first met the teenager, and if there was one thing he wanted, it was for her to remain happy and to not return to the mess she was a year ago. "Thanks, Gus."

"You have to be really careful, okay? Besides your uncle, I'm your guardian. I'm like your adoptive father. What did I tell you to call me the first week here?"

"Papa Gus," J.D scoffed, and Gus let a smile slip onto his face. "It's cute, but totally ridiculous."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, and Gus sat back a little in his chair. He crossed his arms and sighed. "Jessie, you've been here nearly twelve months now. You don't have to do this, I know you don't want to."

J.D knew there wasn't any point in lying to the man before her, he wouldn't believe her if she tried. Her face fell and she scratched behind her head nervously. "I didn't want to let Steve down."

"I know you didn't," Gus muttered, offering her a comforting smile. "But if you don't want to go back, you can just say so and that'll be that. None of us want to force you into anything, sweetheart. If you're scared of getting hurt again, that's perfectly fine."

"I am scared, Gus. I'm terrified," J.D admitted, running a hand through her dark locks. She averted her eyes from her guardian and looked back down at her book in an attempt to distract herself. "I have a perfect life here, and I don't want to give it up. I just don't want people to die, cause then it'll be on me for not helping. I don't want to do it, but I have to."

"You're more mature than some adults I know." Gus chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Ya know that, right?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" J.D tossed her book down, too frustrated to read it. She huffed and glanced to her side, making eye contact with the glaring librarian at the front desk. Usually the teenager was quiet and respectful, but she hadn't slept a wink the previous night and was running on a six-pack of chicken nuggets she had bought on the way to the public area. Forcing an apologetic smile at the cranky old lady, J.D looked back at Gus exasperatedly. "I can just sit by and watch this woman hurt people. Then, when it's all over, I can come back to Brighton."

To any passerby, Gus and J.D looked like an older brother and younger sister having hilarious banter, and that was almost what it felt like, though to J.D, Gus was ideally like a father figure to her and Mason. He accepted everything they did and supported what they wanted to pursue. He was compassionate and protective of them both, and would do anything to keep them safe.

+++

J.D was in the process of packing when she came across something that made her insides churn. She was home alone; Gus and Artie were at the supermarket, and Mason was staying late at school. Her suitcase sat on the floor, half filled with clothing and her other belongings.

She was searching through her wardrobe with a blank look on her face, George Michael playing softly in the background as she aimlessly threw her stuff in the bag. She was making progress, and her absentmindedness meant she wasn't expecting her hand to skim over a torn article of apparel. She felt her heart stop as her hand clasped the material, and she pulled it out, her eyes resting on the dark blue suit with dozens of bullet holes and scarlet blood stains scattered across the fabric, bringing back awful memories she didn't want to relive.

Her stomach clenched as she remembered how the bullets tore through her body just over a year ago. Her breath caught in her throat as anxiety trickled down her neck, her eyes unable to pull away from the item that had brought so much grief into her life.

The suit unraveled and the knife dropped to the carpet, gleaming in the artificial light of J.D's bedroom. The teenage girl swallowed nervously as she picked it up, holding it between her hands and staring down at her reflection in the blade. "Hey, old friend. Haven't seen you in a while."

J.D didn't know if it hurt to look at her weapon, or if she was nostalgic about all she had done with it. It had gotten her out of sticky situations, but it was still something that could hurt people. Her mind brought her back to when she was last in New York, to when she was experience hell and everything similar. She remembered the sickening feeling that ran through her when she was strapped to an operation table in an abandoned train station, no sensation in her lower body whatsoever. She remembered the fear she felt when she was constantly looking behind her shoulder, or the guilt that flooded her being when she lied to those around her.

Her phone buzzed beside her and snapped her out of her daze, blinking a few times and glancing down at her bright screen.

Message from: MJ

hey, when does your flight leave?

J.D smiled a little. She missed the girl she considered to be her best friend. Michelle was the first person she entrusted with her secret identity, and even though the anti-social girl told Mason, J.D still loved her with all her heart. She didn't really know what had happened to the group after she left, but Michelle had mentioned that Gwen had moved to Michigan with her mother, and Harry had decided to stay at his private school, as his father didn't want him going to Midtown anymore. Since the friend group had seemingly parted ways, J.D was worried Michelle was lonely, as she wasn't the most comfortable in social situations. At least she had Peter, right?

She smiled a little as she tapped in a response.

i leave 8:30am tuesday morning and arrive around 11:30am your time xx

She put her phone down after pressing send, and let her eyes fall back onto the suit. So much pain and sacrifice lived inside the tears and splatters of the material, and she hated it. She wished she never had to become the Bladerunner, she wished she could've had a normal life, but it wasn't to be.

A sigh escaped her lips as she folded the uniform, tucking it into the crevices of her suitcase, as well as her knife. She was told that she and Gus would be travelling in one of Tony's private jets, so she knew carrying her weapon wouldn't cause too much of a security risk. Still, she was antsy and a nervous wreck. She would be going home soon.

Home. It was just an empty word to her now. New York wasn't home. Sure, she knew the streets and the people, but it wasn't a place where she felt safe anymore. She always thought that to call a place home, you had to feel protected, comfortable, happy. Her home was her family, her friends. It wasn't a place anymore. If her Uncle Herb, Michelle and even Peter were with them in Brighton, along with Gus, Mason and Artie, then she would be home.

Her phone buzzed again.

Message from: Michelle Jones

does Peter know you're coming back?

J.D swallowed nervously when she read the text, and sighed.

No.

+++

J.D is so easy to write when i'm depressed lol