Timshel

xii - Ashes, Ashes

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, angst, manipulation & mind control

***

"Alright kids, we are taking a detour!" Mr. Harrington announces the next day.

"What? What do you mean?" Ned asks.

"It's okay, we are going to Vienna! Paris is on hold for now, but when I called the tour company, I gave them some grief. They upgraded us!"

Peter's face falls, that means that his reservations for the restaurant on the Eiffel Tower would be pointless. They won't even be in the city when his reservations are.

He starts to panic, he already feels bad about ditching you last night to talk with Fury, now he won't be able to do the one thing he's been looking forward to the most this entire trip. His eyebrows furrow and he feels like he wants to cry until you gently nudge his shoulder.

"Hey, want to sit together on the bus?" you ask, "since we didn't get the chance to sit together on the airplane."

He wants to slip his hand in your own and squeeze it, of course, he wants to sit next to you on the bus. Of course, he wants to spend as much time as physically possible with you. He's only able to nod as Mr. Harrington begins to usher everyone along.

Peter groans when he sees who the bus driver is, which makes you raise an eyebrow at him.

"I'll tell you when we get on the bus," he helps put both of your suitcases underneath and walks with you towards the back of the bus. He sits by the window, you slide into the seat next to him.

He slips the sunglasses case out of his pocket, showing it to you.

"Glasses?" You ask, running a hand along the leather case.

"Mr. Stark left them for me."

"Right," you nod, remembering what Nadia told you last night.

You watch Peter unzip the case and a piece of paper falls into his lap. He opens it and you both read it.

For the next Tony Stark, I choose you.

PS - Just say EDITH

-TS

"He wants you to be the next Tony Stark?" Your voice is quiet, it's hardly even a whisper. The only person who would be able to hear you is someone with such skilled hearing as Peter.

Your eyebrows furrow, you remember that Tony Stark was the one who created the nano chip in your neck. You remember that Tony Stark never gave you a choice in how you were raised. And it makes you angry. You look away, looking towards Betty and MJ who are sitting across from you. MJ is talking animatedly about the haunted sites in Venice, Betty is hanging onto every word.

"I mean, I don't know, but would that be such a bad thing?"

You really can't believe what Peter is saying, "Are you serious?"

Peter's face falls, you shake your hand out of his.

"I don't- I'm sorry, y/n, you know I don't mean it like that. I just mean,"

"It's okay, I mean, he was a good person to you, it's fine," you shrug, turning in your seat. You don't want to talk to Peter. You don't want to look at him. You don't want to feel his clammy hand in your own. You are just angry.

"He was a different person when I met him, you have to understand, y/n, he's not the man he was when he made that chip. If he could have fixed what he did, he would have."

"He could have. He had 16 years to fix what he did. Peter, he stole everything from me!" You raise your voice slightly and MJ looks over at you.

"If he didn't design the chip, someone else would have."