Peter knew as soon as it happened that something was wrong. He felt a tightness in his throat, and her presence in his mind went black. After hurling another piece of wood and throwing a fistful of ash into his opponent's eyes, he turned and found Lena's limp body in the arms of a new stranger. He was masked and in a top hat, a cheap attempt at masking his identity.

Hey, not everyone had the same resources that Tony stark had.

He felt his heart lurch, fiery anger only slightly skewed from the ruffian in front of him filled his brain, the idea of anyone harming her too much to hold onto. Putting his panic into action, he shot a web at her, yanking her away from the odd man's clutches and letting her body fall over his shoulder. It caught the man's attention, that was for sure.

He set her down, cradling her head so as not to injure her further, and faced his two opponents, now completely on his own. It was a feat to try and keep his composure. He hadn't felt this challenged since fighting Mr. Toomes on the beach.

With a THWIP, he shot a web out of his left shooter, aimed directly on the face of the brute. He pulled the web and the man's face down and hard in an attempt to knock him out, but it only made him angrier. He temporarily disabled him, webbing his hands immovable and securing them to the ground.

The other man was a lot taller and a lot more slippery. He ran around the space like snake, appearing from behind boxes and rubble in an attempt to shoot Peter with a weapon he hadn't seen before. Thanks to his senses, the hair on his arm raising at every beam of light zooming past his ears and shoulders. He needed to get ahold of the weapon if this man was going to be caught. Every other second, his attention moved from Peter to Lena, who Peter now knew that getting him away from her was going to be his goal.

He never got the chance to develop a plan, though, because the sound of jets somehow filled the remainder of hearing he had left. He didn't need to turn around to figure out who it was.

"So you think you can attack my siren like that, huh?" Mr. Stark's voice materialized behind him. Peter felt a mix of relief and disappointment that their asses were being saved by Iron Man. He had wanted to pull through and defeat the bad guy on his own, but now that his partner was rendered disabled it was a little more difficult. He hadn't realized that he had grown accustomed to her being by his side.

There were a few blasts from Mr. Stark's suit, but it quickly scared them off. The opponents hadn't been expecting Iron Man to swoop in, and they quickly escaped by jumping off the building and into a jet that had been conveniently camouflaged. As it flew away into the horizon, Peter felt Mr. Stark's frustration radiating off of his body. They had slipped from right in between their fingers.

On the flight back to the Avenger's compound, they were all silent. Lena only because she was still unconscious, and Tony because of the budding anxiety that accompanied their recent encounter. Peter tried to search for Lena's mental wavelength, wishing that the awkward silence could end, but he hit a wall whenever he got close. She wasn't even dreaming. The silence was staticky and strange, like he had stepped into a soundproof room.

They were brought straight to the medical center, where Lena was set on a table and Peter was ordered to be examined. His heart was racing, and he knew he was still running on adrenaline, but he didn't want to leave her side. He could feel himself healing at the quick rate it usually did, so having someone examine him felt pointless. As his airways and lungs were checked, all of his focus was centered on Lena lying on the table.

He was cleared, letting him bounce off the table and towards her. He held his mask in his hands, the suit still clinging to his body, and peered over as she was given an oxygen mask.

"Her body went into shock after the strangulation," the doctor was a tall woman whose lips were pursed tight, "She'll be all right. You got to her before any long term damage could be done."

There was a giant bruise shaped like a hand on the side and back of her neck, a gross purple color that ignited rage in the pit of Peter's stomach. It was the first time someone had hurt her to this severity, and it was infuriating. But he wasn't just angry with the assaulter, he was angry with himself for not being able to do anything for her. He had just let it happen.

He felt a stirring in his mind, a vibrating feeling. She was starting to regain awareness. He took her by the hand and pressed it to his lips, happy that she was finally returning to him. The different ways he could apologize to her started to rotate on shuffle, but when her eyes fluttered open he couldn't bring himself to say any of them, he was just relieved that she was actually all right.

"Peter?" her voice was hoarse, hopefully that injury wasn't permanent, "What? How- Did we get the angry man?"

"No we didn't. Another guy-"

"Mask man."

"He hurt you and then when Mr. Stark tried to intervene-"

"They ran away."

"Yeah."

They could finish each other's sentences quite literally. She was jumping on his words easily, not having a doubt on what he was about to say.

"That is okay," she sat up, looking about at her surroundings, almost paying no mind to the injuries she sustained.

"Woah woah woah," Peter placed a hand on her back, startled by her eagerness to get up, "you really took a beating, be careful!"

She gave him a defensive look, "I am fine."

He offered out his hand, which she took, and walked with her towards the main building so that they could finally take a rest from the long day. If Peter was fatigued, then he knew that Lena was bound to be tired. He made a point to keep the door open, and as they climbed into her bed, he could feel the heaviness of her body as it slumped into his, her falling into a light sleep almost instantly.

Peter was about to fall asleep as well, when he felt an urgent hand on his shoulder turn him around, and Mr. Stark's concerned face looking over him. Making sure he didn't wake Lena, he slid away and shut the door behind him quietly, rubbing his eyes to try and jerk himself awake.

"I've got two things for you Mr. Parker."

Dread formed in his stomach. He had started to realize that Mr. Stark typically called him that when he was being serious. The dark look in his eyes was also a telltale sign that he meant business.

"Of course Mr. Stark I-"

"If you hurt her in any way, you're dead. Murdered. Consider this a threat."

"I could never"

"Good," Mr. Stark wiped a hand down the side of his face, "Okay, so Human Torch today. He was definitely trying to lure you both down there, the arson was just to get something loud enough to mask Lena's voice. If you two run into anything like that again, you don't hesitate to call me. I don't want some psycho kidnapping either of you."

Mr. Stark had a grave look on his face, his eyes were narrowed. Peter could only nod, unsure of what he could say that would reassure the man any further.

"Promise?"

"Yeah. Yes sir. Promise," he crossed his heart to drive the point home.

"Get to bed. Happy will take you to school tomorrow."

Mr. Stark walked away, leaving Peter completely in shock by the sudden change of tone from the man who had only been impressed with him lately. He quietly sneaked back into Lena's room, crawling onto her bed, and letting his eyes shut again.

It was indescribable how wonderful it was to hold her in his arms, knowing that she was his. He buried his face in her strawberry-scented hair, and allowed himself to shut his eyes and slip into a dreamless sleep.

…

They barely woke up in time for school.

Now that their minds were in sync with each other, getting ready was like a choreographed dance. They knew each other's next move as they pranced around the room, tossing books to each other and throwing on clothes, spitting into the sink while brushing their teeth, and zooming out to the car waiting for them. If only Iron Man was willing to give them an escort.

Jogging into school, Peter was about to give Lena a kiss before entering the building, but something stopped them, bringing a wave of humor and secondhand embarrassment into both of the forefronts of their minds. Peter snickered, using all of his energy not to laugh out loud. For the first time in his entire high school career, he wasn't the receiving end of Flash Thompson's jokes.

He had met Flash his freshman year, and they immediately found a distaste for each other. The kid only cared about his own interest, putting himself above all others. When he started making backhand comments about Ned, that was where Peter drew the line. If standing up for Ned, his best friend since kindergarten, meant opening the door to Flash's rude commentary, it was a consequence he was willing to deal with.

Currently, Flash surrounded by a couple of his friends stood outside the steps of Midtown where they entered school every morning, a large sign in his clutches, an eager look on his face. When Peter turned to Lena, she looked puzzled, and he knew she was trying to read Flash, but was confused by what she found.

On the sign, in large red letters was the word "PROM?"

"Lena Potts, would you give me the honor of-"

"Eugene I do not-"

"Flash, Lena. It's Flash, please," he snapped, the sound of his given name obviously ticking him off, "Prom, Lena. We'd have the best time. You would have the best date. You're breathtaking. You're-"

Prom is the dance, correct? The one from all of the movies? She looked up at Peter, her lips curled in.

He nodded, Yeah. If you want to go with him-"

I want to go with you, she cut him off this time, "I am sorry, Eugene, but I already have a date."

"What? How? It's April!"

"I am going with Peter," Peter watched as she smiled politely and walked right past him. He had never seen anything so badass, and wished he could have gotten it on video.

It hadn't taken long for Peter to pick up on the attention that Lena drew. There wasn't a moment where all eyes weren't on her. The first week, it had been strange and nerve wracking; typically Peter wasn't the center of attention, and when he was it was because he was a punchline. Lena had a lure even when she wasn't singing. The weaker someone's mind, the more likely they were to swoon after her as she was walking down the hallway.

Lena paid no mind. She hardly noticed most of the time, and when she did, she brushed it off. It hardly bothered her. Even with the fact that she could read their thoughts she didn't let it get to her.

She held the door open, jerking her head in the direction of inside, "Are you coming?"

Peter kept the dumbfound smile on his face, "Yeah, yeah. See you later Eu- I mean, Flash," he patted him on the shoulder on the way in.

Thank you so much for reading, please feel free to tell me what you think! -Allie x