A New Hero - Peter Parker (BOOK 1) | Spider-Man: Far From Home

Chapter Twenty-Six - A New Hero

Clara dragged her feet as she worked her way to the main road, bustling crowds rushing to work with iced coffees in hand, trying to cool themselves down while waking themselves up. The sun was beating down on them, the rays casting their warmth onto the streets of Berlin. 

Clara could feel her jeans sticking to her legs as the sweat forced them to cling to her. Her t-shirt did the same too, hugging her as darker patches of material revealed just how sweltering it was.

Given the state she was in, most people avoided even looking towards Clara, brushing off the girl as 'one of the homeless'. Others' gazes lingered on her for longer, wondering how such a pretty, young girl could end up in that state. 

Still, no one asked if she needed any help - not until a curvaceous lady carrying bags upon bags of shopping saw Clara stumbling down the pavement. The woman greeted her with a brow furrowed with concern, stopping in front of Clara and blocking the girls path. "Are you okay?" She had asked in German, to which Clara shook her head, trying her best to keep her trembling limbs under control. "Come with me."

You may have suspected that Clara would be hesitant to trust a stranger at this point, but it had been those she had known betraying her friend's trust – not strangers. What did she have to lose?

The lady led her back to her home, never glancing back to see if Clara was still following. The woman knew that she was following based on the snivelling and sniffling behind her. When they reached the home, she took Clara through to the kitchen, sitting Clara on a chair that had been tucked under the dining table.

As Clara silently took the seat, she watched the stranger reaching into a cupboard for a small tin that read 'Erste Hilfe'. "What happened to you, Liebelein?" She asked.

Clara continued to watch the woman as she opened the box and began rifling through it. She pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid as well as some soft cotton pads. "I tripped." Clara said, her voice smaller and weaker than she had meant for it to be.

The woman gave her a doubtful look before twisting the cap off the alcohol. "My name is Edith." She told Clara. Clara felt a lump grow in her throat and tears brim her eyes at the fluke. The coincidence making her dizziness return for a few seconds, but the look of recognision passing Edith unnoticed. "This is going to sting, okay?" She looked down, seeing that at one point Edith had pulled Clara's arm out towards her and wiped the dirt away with a damp cloth.

At first, when the cotton pad touched her arm, she didn't feel anything. Then, the searing pain began. Clara clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut, forgetting to breath as the rubbing alcohol sunk into the cut. 

Edith methodically removed the maroon clumps of dust that had formed within the red blood, wiping them clear of the wound before removing them with another clean cloth. "Done." Edith told Clara, setting the cotton pads and cloth on the table. 

Clara peeked her eyes open, looking down to see the gash. It was about as long as her index finger, maybe a little longer, and she saw the bleeding had finally stopped. Edith dug into her box again, coming back out brandishing a pack of rolled bandages, metal scissors and a dressing. 

Clara watched as she opened the package that held the dressing, setting the square piece of material over the cut. "Hold it there for me, will you?" Edith asked her, the thick German accent making it take longer for Clara to decipher the language. Her mind was still foggy, apparently the drugs were still in her system, though much less potent than before - likely because Clara had vomited the entirety of her stomach contents. 

As she held the fabric in place, Edith wrapped the bandage around her arm, covering the dressing and overlapping the pieces. When she was satisfied the arms was covered enough, Edith tied the bandage in a knot, holding it tight and secure. "Thank you." Clara whispered.

"Now, are you going to tell me what happened to you?" Edith asked. Clara stayed silent. Edith got up from her chair with a sigh, and placed the first aid kit back in the cupboard it had come from. "Do you have someone you can call?"

Clara nodded. Edith unlocked her phone and handed it to Clara.

She looked down at the phone, the dial pad on screen awaiting a number. Clara closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply through her nose before holding it for a moment. 

She had to keep calm; panicking would help no one, and she doubted her mother would help Clara find Peter alone if she knew what kind of a state she was in.

Blowing the puff of air out through her mouth, Clara tapped a series of numbers into the keypad before raising a hand to her ear, acting quickly before she could change her mind. 

"Hello?" A female voice answered.

"Mum? It's Clara." Clara looked at the woman briefly, watching as confusion spread over her face at the sound of a different language coming from the girl that had seemed to understand their own language perfectly. "I need some help." She tried to force some power into her voice, doing her best to hide the shakiness. 

"What is it, Clara? Why aren't you calling from your own phone?"

"I lost it." She answered truthfully; it had fallen from her pocket at some point during the time she had been hanging upside down. "Mum, I need to know where a train is going. I don't know the station it left, or the next one it's headed to, and I don't even know where I saw it."

"Are you far from where you saw it?"

"No, I was walking for maybe fifteen minutes in one direction." She told her mother. "Slowly – I was walking slowly."

"Clara, is everything okay?" Laura asked, concern coating her tone.

"Yes- No- I don't know yet, Mum, I just need to find out where the train is going."

"Okay, Honey, I'll track the phone you're using now and look in a ½ mile radius, okay?" Laura told her. "We're looking for you now, just stay on the line."

"Okay." Clara said. A few moments passed and Laura still hadn't replied. "Mum?"

"It's just coming through now, Sweetheart." She reassured her. Again, a few moments passed. "Clara?"

"Have you found it?" She asked hopefully.

"Why are you in Berlin?"

"Because Peter and I needed to talk to Fury." She rushed out, getting to her feet, ready to leave the house then and there. "Where is it headed to?"

"Clara, tell me what's going on."

"I can't, Mum. Not yet." She bit down on her lip, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming. "Where it is?"

There was a small pause, her mother clearly hesitant to tell her daughter without proper intel. "It's going to the Netherlands. The last stop is Heerhugowaard."

"The Netherlands?" Clara lent back onto a nearby wall. She had to make a decision; not whether she would go or not, that was a given, but how would she get there? How could she know if Peter stayed on until the last stop, let alone know if he had gotten on it in the first place? "Are there any stops that I'll be able to get to before the train does?"

"It's moving through Dortmund now; you won't be able to catch up to it unless you catch a flight from Berlin Schönefeld Airport and even then you'll only get there once it reaches Heerhugowaard.

Clara nodded with her lips pressed together in a grimace. Peter was alive - he had to be. "When does the plane leave?"

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