Peter's sister, Nova II NovaVerse 1

Nova

     One week. It's been one week since I nearly killed Wanda. We take extra precautions when we practice my powers now. We have to stop immediately if I think of anything unpleasant, no kickstarting my powers. No emotion while I use it. Gets too dangerous that way. Stephen Strange practices with me now. Apparently more on control, and is able to breath properly.
         I've been getting better at school lately, and I'm great at almost every subject. Except Algebra and Spanish. But Peter helps me through those. I don't know what I would do without him. He helps me when I'm confused, helps me connect with people who don't know sign language, calms me down when my memories come to haunt me. Some days the only reason I even take a bite of food is because he convinces me.
           The only thing I can't handle is Flash. His hobby seems like it's annoying Peter and trying to make fun of my trauma. He shows me my scars on a daily basis, and try's to pull up my pant legs or sleeves in the process. Although I don't like it at all, I always have to suppress my emotions. I don't need to. But I don't want to hurt anyone. I can't. It's something I tell myself everyday. Don't hurt people. Please don't hurt people.
'I'm sorry.'
               But slowly, Peter has been making me feel okay with my body. Now, I don't immediately go into freak-out mode when I see my wrist. But I still don't want people to see me. To see the monster I am without my full sleeves and masking my power. The stitches, the murders. "It's not your fault," Peter says to me whenever I bring it up. He always try's to make me feel better when I bring up what I did or how I deserved punishment. I hate myself. On days where I have bad moods I tell myself that maybe the multiverse would be better if I was gone.
    But today I feel different. I've been feeling different ever since I woke up yesterday, and easily ignored it. But this time, I feel really bad. My head is throbbing, my eyes feel dry and heavy, don't even get me started on how my throat feels. I could list a thousand other symptoms, but I just don't feel like it. Peter places a hand on my shoulder to make me aware of what's happening. I take my aching head off of his shoulder, and looks at him. "What," I sign. "You look terrible today. Want me to tell Aunt May to let you stay home?" I shake my head, something that makes my whole world go blurry. Being on a moving bus doesn't help much either. I put my head back in his shoulder, and he strokes my hair. I could feel how there were less vibrations in his chest that resulted in every time he talked. He started checking in on me more during the ride. I groan as my head throbs more, but that just hurts my throat. Maybe I should sleep this off.
****Time skip to school****
     It's lunch time. I don't know how I made it through the day. In all of my classes I have tried to nap at least once. I still haven't slept in the past month, but closing my eyes and pretending to is the next thing I can do. So I do that instead of actually sleep. It gets uncomfortable in public places, but Peter puts an arm over my neck to make me feel protected.
       The lights are really messing with my head right now. And it's so hot. I wipe some sweat off of my forehead with the back of my full sleeve as I wait in line with Peter for lunch. He forced me to get in line, I really couldn't care less about eating today. "You can't keep neglecting yourself," he always signs to me. "If you don't take care of yourself, then I will." I stumble on my next step as I grab a tray, and Peter tries to grab my arm, keeping me from falling. We take our trays over to the table with Ned and MJ. They're really nice, and Peter says their trustworthy. If he isn't there, I should try to stay with them. They've even learned some sign language to help me communicate better. "Ready for the Algebra test next period?" Ned signs to me. "I hope so," I respond. I have tried my best to distance myself from them, because Flash picks on anyone who hangs out with me. "The deaf Frankenstein," he calls me, making fun of my scars. That's enough to keep most people away, but not Peter and his friends.
Peter pushes my tray closer to me, but I push it away. There is no way he's convincing me to eat today. My stomach feels full and awfully nauseous today. A little too nauseous. I stand up and rush to the bathroom. I haven't even eaten breakfast today, let alone lunch. But that doesn't stop my stomach from giving up yesterday's dinner. I cough it all up, and I sit there for a few minutes. I get a text from Peter.

Peter: Hey. What's going on ru ok?

Nova: I wanna go home now. Stomach's not doing well.

Peter: k, I'll tell happy 2 pick us up

I don't think much about it, until I reread the message. It said, "us." I know that Peter would have to stay home with me, since May was on one of her late-night shifts. He would miss the Algebra test. And he was studying so hard for it. All that hard work he put in will go down the drain, because of me. I'm such a burden...

Once I think I'm done, I head back over to the table and sit down. It's getting really hot in here. "Happy's here," Peter signs. I nod and wave goodbye to Ned and MJ. Peter tries to take away my bag, and I usually do anything to keep it. I don't like it when others touch my belongings. But this time, I'm too tired to even care. He notices, and glances over at me every few seconds. We reach the front office, and Happy is there to sign us out. We leave the school and into his car. I sit and rest my head on Peter's shoulder. I try to rest, but not to sleep. I'm still scared of that.

We reach the apartment soon enough, and Peter helps me up. We thank Happy, and head inside. The apartment is just how we left it this morning. Blankets sprawled out across the floor; dishes piled up in the sink. I sigh and start to lie down on the couch. "Try to sleep," Peter signs. I shake my head. Everything looks melted and blurry. Sentences are weird. Everything feels messed up and hot. "You need to sleep sometime. Why don't you?"

What the harm in telling him. I'm too tired for things to make sense right now.