Felicia had gotten the help she needed in Madripoor, trying to lick the wounds that never seemed to stop hurting. It was a constant reminder in her chest, aching with every brief reminder of her home, of Silk. There were no Spiders in Madripoor. No seeing the familiar sight of Peter swinging between buildings, no Silk landing beside her on a rooftop. The worst part was how many memories she had tied to New York, how they tied up into a neat little bow of a present she couldnât touch any time soon, taunting her like it would a child waiting for Christmas.Â
âYou know,â Felicia repeated, heart thumping rapidly in her chest. Her fingers twitched, curling up and she could feel her claws retract. There was a flash in her mind of the last time she was on a building with Silk, the womanâs blood dripping from her claws as she tried to catch her breath between the way her chest ached violently. She realized along the way that she had started to see the other woman as a friend. Felicia didnât tend to have friends. She had people who were of use to her, something that she could gain from the âfriendshipâ. Silk, of course, had started out like that. Then things shifted, transformed into something more.Â
Itâs why it had hurt her so violently to hear her talking to the SHIELD agent over the bug and the admission of just pretending, it was never real. The elevator wasnât real.
Though, the admission that came next rendered Felicia momentarily speechless. Her lips parted and she let out a sharp breath, brow furrowed as she tried to figure out just any way to respond to that. âYouâreâŠdonât lie to me.â Felicia said sharply, though it wasnât nearly as venomous as her words prior. She had been caught by surprise for once and it was confusing her. She didnât like it. âYou still did it. You stillâŠI donât know what you get out of this. Saying all this to me.â
Cindy thought about it a moment, rolled it over in her mind. Her family was worth everything. Finding Albert had made the difference between entirely lost and feeling as though she could begin to build a home again, one that wasnât four walls and her own thoughts on repeat for ten years. Finding her parents, settling into an apartment, regaining that sense of community with her family and her peers, Cindy couldnât think of anything more worth whatever it had cost.
But there was a certain loss of self that had come with using someone to get it. There was losing her own moral compass, losing a friend, hurting someone. And perhaps it was hindsight granting her 20/20, but the prices sheâd paid had all been for naught in the end, anyway. It was her own determination, her own investigations, that had brought her family back to her. There was a lesson in there somewhere, one Cindy was determined to learn. It didnât pay to step on others to get what you wanted. The ends didnât always justify the means, no matter how important they were.
And it wasnât a lie. She didnât know it at the time, but it wasnât worth it. It wasnât worth the betrayal behind the anger in Feliciaâs eyes. It wasnât worth seeing her crouched above her, Cindyâs own blood dripping off of her claws. It wasnât worth ruining someone elseâs home so she could rebuild her own. It wasnât worth the ache, and the way thinking about it still cut.
It wasnât worth the what ifs, the if onlyâs, the way she couldnât stop thinking about it. About her. About elevators and a level of understanding Cindy had yet to find, even with Albert. She wondered how sheâd feel, if SHIELD had pulled through, but as it wasâ
It wasnât worth it. âIâm not lying.â
Cindy sat back on the dusty floor. If Black Cat was going to do anything, sheâd have a head start, all defenses dropping as she let her own claws retract. âIâm not placing a takeout order, one forgiveness please, with extra sauce.â
What was she hoping to get out of this? A way for the ache to stop? A way to stop thinking about her? The word closure came to mind, but it trapped itself somewhere in her chest. It was what she should want, but it felt uncomfortable and wrong and Cindy wasnât ready to unpack that. âIâm not getting anything out of this. I donât expect anything of you, Iâm just...taking the opportunity to say Iâm sorry, for what little itâs worth.â
She looked up, a small, sheepish smile hidden behind the dusty red of her mask. âItâs good to see you back.â
Even if it ended the same way. Even if they found themselves on a rooftop spattered red. Felicia had found her way home again; perhaps the universe was on its way to righting itself.
