AN: Dedicated to @PARRISHABEL :D Thank you so much!!

Sleep never sounded so good.

I've thought it before, but past me has no idea about the shit storm ahead of her. That whole year still haunts me. But now? Sleepless nights were now the bane of my existence.

I opened my groggy eyes and stretched my arms above my head before sighing to myself quietly. The apartment was silent, but there were many noises on the outside. Cars. Parents yelling at kids to go to school before they're late. Yelling. Honking. People on the phone a floor above. Showers going off. Televisions on cartoons or the news. It was only eight in the morning and everything was already so loud.

Did I want to get out of bed? No...no. Not really. There was nothing to do, and honestly, the lack of energy made it worse. I closed my eyes as I listened to the neighborhood. Relax...Relax...

Then silence.

I let out a small gasp. I couldn't move. My limbs froze to their spot. Panic built up inside of me, twisting my stomach every which way. An excruciating ache shot up both of my legs from the knee up. Limbs snapping. Bones shattering. The chorus of screams came back. An explosion. The death song of my passed friends. Yelling out, collapsing onto Kitty for dear life.

My body jolted up from the bed, and I clung to the wall to keep my balance. I inhaled deeply as I shook my head to get the sounds out. They always came back. The memories hadn't faded. Sometimes I could see them crisp and clear, as if I were living in the moment. Others, it seemed like I watched a movie, starring me and the horrible nightmare of battle.

My hand clawed at my chest for a moment in an attempt to push out all of the emotions piling out of the vault within my heart. To get my mind off of it, I rushed to the kitchen and immediately started making breakfast. Shaking, I put some coffee grinds into the maker. Focus...Focus...

Exhale.

One breath. Two. Three.

My heart rate decreased steadily. The shake in my hands stayed, yet no matter how much water I spilled, I persisted. Daily tasks kept my mind off of...that. The past. The horrible ending to the story I chose to be a part of. I pushed the button on the coffee maker, getting it set up for Steve's arrival. He always loved fresh coffee in the morning. I brushed my hair out of my face with the back of my hand and sighed.

We're all okay. Don't worry.

Keys jangled behind the front door, and after a few seconds of fiddling, Steve opened the front door. Somehow, his exhausted eyes sparkled bluer than the crashing waves of an ocean. Adrenaline rush, maybe? I don't know. Either way, it's better than the dead look in his eye as he stares off into nothingness some nights. Steve ruffled his matted hair and smiled that pretty boy smile at something that was said.

Sam Wilson followed close behind, both of them sweating through their work out gear. Sam laughed wholeheartedly, patting Steve on the back. His dark eyes landed on me; his lips stayed curled up into a smile. "Hey Lilly," he declared, sitting down at the kitchen table and set down a new newspaper. The stench of pure man and must fluttered throughout the room.

"Hey." I waved subtly, putting on a smile for both of them. "Coffee should be ready in a few minutes." Steve brushed his fingertips against mine as he passed by, lingering for a second before letting go. He talked to Sam a bit more about the previous conversation as he got some water.

Their run lasted longer today. They might've decided to take a longer route. Got ambushed by a few fans. Maybe Steve talked about what was going on. In the underbelly of our lives, there was unhappiness. Harsh memories. Abandonment issues. Steve had more strength than I did to confront what was really going on within our minds.

I picked up little bits of their conversation, but this bit caught my attention the most. Sam cleared his throat and nodded, answering whatever Steve had said. He sat there, composed calmly and almost relaxed. Then, he spoke, "I've been trying to track Bucky, but I lost him somewhere in Russia. I should be able to find him again soon, but he keeps dropping off the map when I get a lead."

Steve stayed quiet for a moment, bobbing his head in agreement. He played with the cup in his hand, his mind clearly elsewhere. Memories of Bucky. The last time he saw him. How worried he was for his tortured best friend. His blue eyes darkened as his pink lips formed a tight line.

Picking up the newspaper, I sat down and started reading the front page headline. Anti-Mutant Protestors Attacked at Rally. My brow furrowed as I continued reading the article, slowly sinking into the chair. Mutants peacefully and silently protesting for their rights and beliefs, until the anti protestors attacked. There was so much hate going around. Mutants. Superheroes. Vigilantes. No one was safe anymore because of Chicago and the fall of the government. So much turmoil, and not enough safety. The country was a freaking powder keg just waiting to go off. I threw the newspaper onto the table, crossing my arms immediately after.

A frown formed on Steve's face once he saw the headline. His eyes flickered to mine. "The world is different now. We have to lead the charge to improve it."

"Those protestors were peaceful. How can we lead the charge when my own people get attacked for trying?" I lowered my voice towards the end. I wasn't trying to start a fight or a debate. We both want to change the world, but at this point, I felt like I couldn't even help myself. "Plus, this headline deceives customers into thinking that mutants attacked the protestors, not the other way around."

"We can only do so much at a time, Lilly. One step at a time. Okay?" Steve set his hand on my arm, heat emanating off of his skin. His expression softened, a glimmer of hope crossing his eyes. "It'll be okay."

Seems like that's our catchphrase nowadays.

We left our sanity in the hands of hope. It'll be okay. As if society weren't crumbling around us. As if we could somehow empower the future generation to instill change. How would we do that? What if we're too late? What if hope died at the last battle?

Before I could answer, someone knocked on the door. I got up, leaving the boys to their conversation. Mentally preparing myself first, I exhaled and stretched my hands out. More socialization. More fake smiles. Some genuine happiness here and there.

Our friendly neighborhood Deadpool stood on the other side of the door. He held a bag from some local fast food place up to the peep hole. I opened the door, greeting him by name. In an instant reaction, he responded, "Wow, you've seen better days."

I rolled my eyes. Classic Wade. One minute, I'm happy to see him. Then I remember what he's actually like. Not a horrible human being...Just a loveable one you want to punch in the mouth sometimes. It's not like he's wrong, though. I was just hoping no one would notice. "One of these days, I'm going to kill you Wade."

"It wouldn't be the first time, Pookie."

"And it won't be the last if you keep it up with the nicknames," I grumbled, more to myself than him.

"You are really feisty in the mornings. I like it." Wade passed by me to get inside the apartment. "I was going to surprise Spider-Man with these, but our favorite webshooter wasn't home. So, I brought breakfast burritos for everyone!"

"I think that makes up for the insult." I swiped my hand at the bag, attempting to take it from him to see the contents inside. Even if the bottom of the brown bag dripped from grease, the food smelled mouth-wateringly delicious.

Wade lifted it higher, just out of my reach, and wiggled his finger at me. To taunt me more, he got onto face level with me, staring me straight in the eye. "I bought 'em, I distribute them."

I narrowed my eyes, bringing up a valuable point, "Since when do you pass up the opportunity for someone else to do something for you?" Over the passed few years, Wade let us do most of the work. Although, when it came to dirty work, he handled the killing and clean up.

"This deals with food, Lil. Food is important to me." Deadpool turned away towards the guys sitting at the table. He showed off the bag with his other hand, as if he were some game show model. "Who's hungry?" He passed around two breakfast burritos to Steve and I, with five remaining in the bag once Sam declined.

I grabbed mugs and set them down on the table. I questioned as I poured the steaming hot coffee, "Why are there five extra?"

Even though I couldn't see Wade's face, I could feel the disappointed stare he was sending my way. His voice softened, and he motioned his words with his hand on his chest, "Come on, Lilly. You know those are for me."

Sam crossed his arms and glanced at Steve. "Steve owes me this great breakfast he's always talking about. Apparently my homemade breakfast wasn't good enough for Captain America."

After taking a bite, Steve smiled and covered his mouth with his hand. "Hey, I never said that! It was quite filling." He set the burrito down and stood up. "Alright, tell me what you want and I'll make it right now."

Wade looked between both of them. "Wait, can I trade my burritos for this great breakfast?"

As the guys chatted away, I took a few bites of my food. Delicious swirls of eggs, jalapenos, sausage, and bacon danced around my tongue. Before I knew it, the kitchen bustled with life. Steve at the stove cooking up some fresh food. Sam leaning against the counter, deep in conversation. Wade inhaling a breakfast burrito and laughing at whatever was said. I could get used to mornings like this. People I love. Mouth watering food. All of my worries and thoughts washed away. I lived in the moment, and man, was it sweet.

With all of the talking here and there, and the guys munching on their American Man made breakfast, I had lost track of time. Hours had passed, which only gave us so little time to get to where we needed to be. I looked at the clock and almost jumped out of my chair. "Steve, your class starts in an hour. We should get going."

Sam inquired as he played with his remaining food, "What class?"

I grabbed the empty plates off of the table and set them into the sink. "I convinced him to be a substitute teacher for an art class at Xavier's School."

"Seems like you missed mentioning it every other time we've hung out. What kind of art?" Sam looked at Steve, a half smirk plastered onto his face.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. This was something new for him. Telling friends that he actually followed one of his passions for once, other than justice. Other than what SHIELD, or even Fury wanted. Something solely for himself, and himself alone to divulge into in a creative space. "Drawing mostly. Little bits here and there. It's nothing too great."

I put my hands on his shoulders, squeezing a bit. I spoke the truth, "He's far too humble. His art is amazing." Steve's lips curled up into a shy smile.

Wade threw in a comment with a small laugh, "So, what you're saying is...You can draw me like one of your French girls? I'm in. I'll be your class model!"

Steve replied a bit quickly, "I'll take a rain check on that. I'm only a substitute teacher."

Sam looked at both of us for a moment, reading the situation. I felt him analyzing our happy expressions. Our posture. Our voices. How we glanced at each other. How our actions pushed each other to do more. Finally, he answered, "I'm glad you're pushing him to do more. How have you two been adjusting to being home?" The therapy session group leader in him peeked through his words.

"We're doing well," Steve responded, setting his hand on mine.

Deep down, I think Steve knew we weren't doing as well as we should have been. But we were doing well enough to not worry our friends. Worry only made things worse, and that was a whole other mess we didn't want to get into.

I moved to get the keys to the car, avoiding this conversation altogether. "I'd love to keep chatting about this, but traffic is going to be killer if we don't leave now." I looked directly at Wade, pointing my finger at him. "Please leave this time. I don't want to come back to the apartment to find it ransacked. Or worse, littered in fast food boxes and broken items from you messing around."

Wade fake gasped, feigning hurt with his hand over his heart. "Lilly. I would never." Upon seeing my now Are-You-Serious expression, Wade huffed, "Okay. You're right. I better leave before I make this place a lot more fun."

"Not fun. Messy," I corrected him.

He shrugged. "Tomato, tomato."

As Sam and Wade got up to leave, we bid them farewell. A part of me wished they could stay longer, but Steve couldn't leave the class unattended when he agreed to help. Plus, it would give me time to visit Kitty to see if she needed anything.

It'll be okay.