𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐂𝐓 ( peter parker. )

𝟎𝟒 ( 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞 )

Come on! It's a freaking merge," said Happy.

Now back in Queens, Happy was chauffeuring us—us meaning me, Tony, and Spiderboy—home. I leaned my head against the cool glass of my passenger seat window and stared at the city lights outside, too tired to pay much attention to the conversation inside the car. My mind was still reeling from the events of the last few days. Between sneaking away to Berlin, the airport fight, blacking out afterwards and waking up in a hospital (the doctor said I was lucky to come out alive with only a bruised lung, cracked rib, fractured left wrist, and a mild concussion... at least, I thought that's what he said. It was hard to make out his words through the German accent), and the dawning realization that Mom was so going to kill me the instant I dared show my face back at home, there was a lot to handle. I'd been ignoring her calls and texts the last few days. In all honesty, I didn't want to deal with the consequences of my impulsiveness until I got home. By this point, if I opened my phone and scrolled through the notifications, I could easily find over twenty unread messages:

messages - today - 12:02 am

Mom: Sidney, where are you?

Mom: I know you're not on a school trip.

Mom: Are you OK?

Mom: Sidney, answer me please.

"Alright, here we are." The car slammed to a stop and I jerked forward, dropping my phone and sucking in a breath to keep from crying out as my seatbelt dug into a bruise on my ribcage. "End of the line- whoops," Happy announced.

Presumably, this meant the end of the line for Peter, since we'd pulled up in front of an unfamiliar apartment building. Happy got out of the car to retrieve Peter's suitcase and I, having nothing better to do, tuned back in to the conversation going on in the backseat.

"Do me a favor, though," Tony was saying. "Happy's kind of your point guy on this. Don't stress him out. Don't do anything stupid, I've seen his cardiogram. Alright?" It was somewhat hard to tell whether this was addressed to me or Peter. Not that it made much difference either way.

"Yes," Peter answered enthusiastically.

Tony tilted his head. "Don't do anything I would do, and definitely don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's a... there's a little gray area in there, and that's where you operate," I couldn't help putting in, twisting around in my seat to see the other two and ignoring the spikes of pain the movement caused.

"Wait, does that mean I'm an avenger?" asked Peter.

"No," Tony concluded. "And you," he added, pointing to me, "do not currently hold the right to speak. We'll talk later."

Happy knocked on the window and held up a silver suitcase. "This it?"

Tony nodded. "Seventh floor."

I sighed, turning around in my seat again and tapping my fingers against the armrest impatiently while Peter said his goodbyes and headed inside the building. Once he was safely inside the apartment and out of sight, Tony drew in a breath.

"So," he began, tilting his head and clasping his hands in front of him, "What exactly were you thinking?"

"I..." I paused. What could I say? I was curious? I didn't want to miss out? The whole thing was part of some need for me to prove myself to myself and everyone around me - especially Tony? Nothing really seemed to excuse it at the moment. "My mom changed her mind?" It was a bad lie.