The Legacy of a Hero
Chapter Twenty-Three
In the end, she didn't have to say anything at all.
Heather took off the goggles she'd been gifted by Robin and pulled off her cowl, smoothing back her auburn hair. She looked up at her dad and waited.
Peter removed his own mask and sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb before sitting down next to her. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I could ask you the same question," she tried very hard to not sound angry or hurt, and didn't succeed at either.
He shrugged his muscular shoulders, running a hand through his dark hair. He looks tired, she thought. "I never saw you literally crawling up the walls of the apartment as a baby, so I assumed…" he shrugged again. "When did this start?"
She ran her fingers over the smooth metal alloy of the goggles before putting them in her belt. "The precognition thing, probably since forever, but the rest? Maybe a few months. How," she paused, unsure of how to ask this, "how did it start for you?"
"I was about your age," he sounded bored, like this was a story he'd told multiple times. "We were on a field trip to a laboratory. They were doing genetic testing on spiders. One got out of its cage and the sucker bit me. Badda bing, badda boom, superpowers." He did some very unenthusiastic jazz hands.
"Then… Harry and Audrey?"
"I suppose. We'll just have to wait and see. Unless one of them has said or done something around you?"
"I haven't noticed anything."
"Maybe it's linked somehow to age," he said thoughtfully, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the clouds roll across the night sky.
"Dad… why didn't you say something?" She finally demanded after a beat, the question bubbling up from somewhere in her gut.
He looked at her like she was crazy. "Heather, you have to realize that I have made a lot of enemies over the years I've been doing this. Even just having your mother and aunt in the loop has been dangerous. I was going to wait until you could take care of yourself to tell you."
"And what, at seventeen you didn't think I could handle it?" She shot to her feet, angry tears stinging her eyes. She clenched her fists and tried to blink them away. She didn't want to be crying during this conversation. She didn't want to be crying in front of her dad at all, ever. "Dad, you used to tell me everything! What happened to change that?"
Peter seemed at a loss for words for a moment.
"More than that," Heather continued, pacing with heavy steps across the tarmac. "You practically ignore me on a day to day basis. I never see you, you never talk to me unless you want something, and it's not any better for Harry. Do you have any idea how crushed he was that neither of us was going to be at his soccer game today? I promised him and you made me into a liar." She whirled toward him, point an accusatory finger at his chest. "Only Audrey ever gets your full attention!"
"Audrey is a toddler," Peter says slowly, frowning at her. "And she has a disability that neither of you have."
"That shouldn't be an excuse for you to ignore Harry and I!" Heather shouted, her face red, tears streaming down her cheeks. Damn it, she thought, swiping them away with the heel of her hand. The leather of her gloves only spread the moisture around on her face, and she gave up after a few futile swipes.
"I never ignore you two," he denied, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was fighting a headache.
"Bullshit," she spat.
His head shot up. "Language!" Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's late. Let's grab our stuff from the ballroom and go back to the hotel. A good night's sleep will do us both good. We can talk more about this tomorrow."
She frowned. Now that she'd gotten into this fight, she didn't know how to suddenly stop. She was wound up tighter than a spring, and he was already waving a white flag. She'd expected him to yell at her, to ground her, to do – something! Anger she could deal with. But what was she supposed to do with this? Her mind floundered, trying to hang onto an argument that had barely begun and now was apparently already over.
"You – you can't make me stop doing this!" Heather folded her arms, her chest tight with emotions she'd been trying to hold back for weeks, possibly years. "I have to find out who's responsible for Iris' kidnapping. She needs justice and I won't stop until she gets it."
"We will discuss this tomorrow," he repeated firmly as he stood up and put his mask back on.
She swallowed hard, blinking against the angry tears still falling down her face. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she turned away.
Don't you dare. Don't even try it, she thought as she followed him to pick up their civilian clothes. This doesn't change anything.
The train ride home the following morning was painfully quiet.
The whole night had been painfully quiet, actually. Peter seemed tired and hassled by the whole debacle, while Heather refused to speak more than a few words to him since leaving the charity event. They hadn't discussed anything else since the rooftop, with Peter insisting that they would wait until they were home and her mom was present. Heather assumed this was because he wanted back up while he grounded her for all eternity, not that that was going to stop her. She had meant what she said. Iris' father was going to get answers, and her classmate would finally be able to rest in peace. And then…
Well, Heather wasn't sure what she was going to do then. She'd cross that bridge when she got to it. For now though, she needed answers and she'd get them with or without her father's help. Even if – she had to admit – it would be easier with it.
When they finally got back to the apartment, they found Mary Jane making brunch for Heather's siblings. MJ looked up when they came in, and the look she shot Heather made her realize her father had at least partly filled his wife in on the previous night's events.
Well, at least that saves me a bit of legwork, Heather thought, feeling reluctantly grateful to her dad as she sat at the table next to Harry. Her brother was staring at her, like he knew something was up but he didn't know what yet. He also still looked a little pissed, and she felt her heart constrict as she remembered his soccer game. Stupid dad and his stupid job.
Audrey seemed to sense the tension in the room as she looked around. "What's wrong?" She signed to Heather.
Heather didn't know how to answer her sister. She gave the toddler a strained smile, "I'm okay. I'm just tired."
Peter and MJ were having a whispered conversation as she sliced fruit on the counter. Heather watched as her mom's knife cut through the oranges on the cutting board with a little more vigor than necessary. She caught her mother's harsh whisper of "I told you!" before she decided to stop trying to hear them.
"Heather?" Harry asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Are you in trouble?"
Heather shrugged. "Depends on how you look at it," she said vaguely. "I'm sorry I missed your game, bud."
Harry looked down at his math homework, doodling a little skull and crossbones in the corner of his worksheet with his pencil before slowly erasing it. "I know you are," he finally said, even more quietly. Heather gently laid her hand on her brother's dark brown hair, smoothing it back from his face. He didn't say anything, but he leaned a little closer towards her, bumping his knee against hers under the table.
"I'm such a shit sister," she whispered, her stomach sour.
"I mean, at least you admit it," he shrugged, the corner of his mouth tilting in a rueful smile.
It wasn't exactly like he forgave her, but she still felt a little of her guilt lift off her shoulders. "Someone has to, right?" She said, just as Peter and MJ came into the room, laying out bowls of fruit and servings of oatmeal for the five of them on the table.
Brunch was, in Heather's opinion, agonizing to sit through.
Peter and MJ kept trying to catch Heather's eye, and Heather kept repeatedly ignoring them. She didn't want to have this conversation in front of her siblings. It's not fair, she thought petulantly. They get to find out dad is Spiderman on the same day they learn about my powers? I had to wait seventeen years for the truth! Besides, I want to tell them on my terms, not while mom and dad are interrogating me.
When they had finished eating, MJ asked Harry to take Audrey to the living room to watch cartoons. Harry shot Heather a concerned look before doing as his mother asked. Once they were gone, Heather slumped back in her seat and stared at the wood grain of the table, waiting for her parents to lay into her.
"Heather," MJ began quietly. "Do you have something you want to tell me?"
Heather met her mom's eyes, glanced at her father for a second, then looked back and frowned. "You knew," she said quietly, "and you never told me. How could you lie to me?"
"I wanted to keep you safe," MJ reached out and laid her hand on Heather's. "You're my baby."
Heather wanted to pull away, but her mom's touch was gentle and familiar. She found herself returning the soft squeeze her mom offered.
"I almost lost you once," MJ continued in that same quiet tone. "Do you remember?"
Heather jerked her head up, looking quickly between her parents in surprise. "The bus accident?" She asked, remembering that day on the bridge. The smell of smoke, her pounding heart, the drop to the water below...
"Oh no honey," MJ shook her head. "You were much younger. Probably around six, right Peter?"
Her dad shifted uncomfortably. After a moment, he nodded. "Around there, I think."
Heather frowned. "I don't remember," she said slowly. She didn't. She thought back to that year, but nothing stood out as being significant.
"It was very traumatic," MJ said carefully, "I wouldn't be surprised if your mind suppressed the memory. Some of your father's enemies took you. I thought I was never going to see you again," she quickly wiped a tear before it could smudge her mascara.
Heather's frown deepened. She stared at her mother's manicured fingers intertwined with her own calloused ones. I don't remember that… at all. How could I forget about something like that? She decided to think about it more later, when she was alone. It can wait, right?
"I saw dad come through the window that night in his suit," Heather eventually said. "And all of a sudden, a lot of things came together. The pieces just… fit."
"What pieces?" MJ pressed gently.
Heather quietly laid out the evidence that had been piling up since childhood. The weird coincidences, the physical agility, the uncanny precognition, and the events of the last few weeks. MJ listened thoughtfully without interrupting, except to ask a clarifying question. Heather inwardly smiled. Her mother could recite Shakespeare like the queen herself was watching, could command a stage with all the elegance of a Tony award-winning leading lady, but at the end of the day she was also still her mom. At home, her mom rarely shouted, disciplined with love, and listened carefully to her children's woes. She wasn't sure when she'd forgotten just how amazing her mom was.
When Heather's story came to the night Iris died, she could feel the guilt squeezing her chest like a vice. She couldn't look either of her parents in the eye as she recounted trying to save her classmate's life, could practically still feel the blood gushing through her fingers. She felt her stomach rebel at the memory of Iris' too cool skin, her missing pulse.
Heather scrambled to her feet and ran to the bathroom, retching into the commode as her mind echoed with the gunshot, again and again reminding her that it was her fault. Iris Chen was dead, and it was all her fault. Her mother was suddenly beside her, holding back her hair and rubbing circles into her back. Heather couldn't stop her tears as her empty stomach pushed bile up her throat. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…
"Honey," MJ said softly. "Shh, let it out. Just let it all out."
When Heather finally managed to pull herself together, she rinsed her mouth out in the sink and let her mom lead her back to the table. Her dad placed a glass of water in front of her and looked at her sympathetically, which only made her feel worse. I don't deserve any one's sympathy, this is all my fault, she thought miserably.
"Heather," MJ finally said after her daughter had swallowed several cautious sips of her water. "I'm disappointed you didn't tell us what happened. We could have been helping you. You don't have any experience with this."
"I can learn," Heather muttered. "I've learned a lot already." Her parents exchanged a look, and she was almost certain now that they were going to take her suit away and force her to drop Iris' case.
"I didn't just mean with superhero things," MJ continued calmly.
"You're only seventeen," Peter put in, pushing a lock of Heather's hair away from her damp temple. "God knows, I didn't know what I was doing at seventeen, and I would have given my arm for a little help during those early days."
"We know that you want the people responsible brought to justice," MJ said, squeezing Heather's shoulder. "And we're so proud that you're taking this so seriously. Aren't we?" She raised an eyebrow at her husband, who cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.
"Of course we are," he murmured. When his wife intensified her gaze, he repeated himself more loudly. "Heather, you've done well on your own. But now it's time to call in back up." He pointed his thumb at himself, "I'm 'back up'. We'll find who hurt that girl and why, together."
Heather opened her mouth, then closed it again. She glanced uncertainly at her parents. "You're… you're not making me quit?"
"I can't say that this is the hobby I'd thought you'd have at this age," MJ said. "I would have preferred video games or maybe yoga," she joked, before turning serious again. "But I understand why you feel so strongly about this. We're okay with you continuing this, as long as your dad takes the lead. You have to listen to what he tells you, and you have to promise me that you will be very careful." She raised her eyebrows meaningfully at Heather, her blue eyes intense.
Heather stared at her mom for a moment before turning to her dad, hardly daring to hope. "You mean it?" She asked him suspiciously, wondering at his silence.
Peter took in a breath, as if he was about to make a deal he was going to regret. "I mean it. Let's do this," he held out his hand, and after a moment's hesitation she took it.
AN: I know some of ya'll have been waiting a long time for this, and I don't know if it's going to meet all of your expectations but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It is what it is, as they say. Remember that reviews feed the muse, but either way, have a lovely day everyone ^_^