Peter webbed them onto the roof of a nearby building, setting Lena down and looking at the former roof where they came from. One of the men Lena had been fighting was now using a literal jetpack to get himself over to them. Whoever had taken Lena captive was absolutely determined to keep her there.

"Remind me to ask Mr. Stark to put jet repulsors in your suit. It'll make all of our lives easier," Peter commented as the man's figure got larger and the pre-fight nerves started to hit him. They always came. It was throwing the first punch was what usually got rid of them. As the man landed, Peter used his a classic tactic of his to throw his opponent off his rhythm: a question.

"Sir!" Peter webbed the guy's gun from his hands and onto the ground a piece of it breaking off. "Why do you think you can steal my partner like that?"

"I do what my employer tells me to do," the man in the ski mask had a thick New York accent and pulled out a taser while he spoke, "Nothin' more nothin' less."

Peter couldn't help it; he rolled his eyes, "Reminds me of this song...Siren wouldn't know it but I'm following the leader, the leader, the leader!"

With each leader, Peter flipped over the man, snatched the taser, and launched his feet into the back of the man's head, sufficiently knocking him out, but they weren't done. More men were jetting on over to the roof, armed and prepared to fight. The lanky man in the mask from the Arsonist's rooftop attack was the final man there, dressed up in his suit for the occasion.

I have got him this time. The determination Lena had was like a flame in her soul. She was ready to take him down, and Peter felt it clear as day.

He kept the minions off of her, webbing and shoving his knee and feet into their faces. They were not well trained, and by the time Lena was done, there was a pile of bodies at his feet, all woozy or completely blacked out. Meanwhile, his partner looked beyond shocked, holding the man's mask in her hand, one knee on his chest and one foot on the ground. She was holding her fist up, ready to punch, but something was holding her back.

"Siren, take the hit," he said to her, approaching confused.

It is Mr. Bridgers.

"Who?"

She flashed a memory in his mind, the day that they had off from school, a certain TV program had a man on their news program. He had shouted at the interviewer-

"How do we know when she's telling the truth? How do we know she isn't brainwashing us all?"

He remembered the maniacal way he had yelled, the way that Lena felt each and every word sink into her skin, the way that she had sat in his arms sobbing until he found a way to distract her.

"Mr. Bridgers," Peter said aloud, shock wavering his voice.

"She killed my sister. You killed my sister," the man spat in her face, forcing her to flinch. Peter shot a web right over his mouth, and then on his torso to keep him in place. Lena wiped off her eyes, and Peter could see that there were tears building up that she was doing everything she could to keep them from spilling over. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of making her feel terribly, although bringing up her difficult past filled with being forced to kill innocent people sometimes struck a nerve.

Pinching her eyebrows together, sniffing, and frowning, her fist came into contact with the bridge of his nose, breaking it.

I need you to tell him something.

He stood over the man, whose nose was now bleeding and crooked.

Killing against my will has been the greatest regret of my life.

"S-she says that killing against her will has been the greatest regret of her life."

Your sister did not deserve to die. If I could bring her back I could.

"She did not deserve to die, and if she could bring her back she would."

I fight crime to make up for my wrongdoings. I am sorry it is not enough.

"She fights crime to make up for her wrongdoings and is sorry that it is not enough."

Mr. Briders's eyes looked conflicted, as if he didn't know how to respond with this new information. She punched him again, finally rendering him defenseless and knocked out, and fell to the ground in a crumple.

"Karen do you know how to take off that device on her mouth."

Yes Peter, there is a keyhole on the left side. I suggest you use the key.

"A key, we need a key. Search him."

He could sense that the aura of this man was weighing Lena down. She was avoiding his eyes while digging through each one of his many pockets, eventually looking up at Peter and shaking her head. No key. Peter cursed under his breath.

Neither of them had noticed the police sirens that were blaring on the ground beneath the building. Peter peered over the edge to find an officer preparing a megaphone to communicate with them, but that wasn't even necessary. He webbed the unconscious man, and slowly lowered him so that he was now lying at the officer's feet. Lena accompanied him down once he was finished.

"Spider-Man?" the young officer looked perplexed, "What is the meaning-"

"My partner was captured," Peter cut him off and kicked the foot of Mr. Bridgers, "by this man. She can't speak because he put a device on her that's preventing from doing so, but she can confirm it."

Lena nodded.

"Are you going to file an official police report or just expect us to believe that-"

WE'RE TELLING THE TRUTH.

Lena's internal voice could be heard be the officer, because it wasn't just Peter who flinched, it was the stranger as well. Her face had turned a beat red, eyes watering, which she furiously swiped away. He knew she was tired of being dismissed, of being told she wasn't telling the truth. Peter lightly touched her forearm in an attempt to comfort her.

"We have to get home and take this device off of her, we'll have to file the report later, if we do at all," Peter mentally rolled his eyes. There was a major risk with attempting justice. If The Siren was forced to show in court, it could potentially risk a breach in her identity. They tended to keep a low profile on purpose.

When they found the car that Peter had stolen, Lena was exhausted, it was radiating off of her. Although without her even saying it, she was mentally exhausted. She needed a break from the chaos that was being pelted at her. It was unending. She started school, then she dealt with the arsonist, and then she was kidnapped.

She fell into the passenger's seat and looked at him, her eyes sunken. Time to go home.

"Grand Theft Auto, huh, Spider-Man? Pretty bold of you to steal from Tony Stark himself."

He jumped, startled by the sound of Mr. Stark's voice behind him. He was in his suit, landing right next to the car.

Shit, both Peter and Lena said at the same time in each other's heads.

"Mr. Stark I-"

"You made the right call, kid."

He paused, unsure if he heard his mentor correctly, "S-sorry sir. I...what?"

"You made the right call. You tried to get ahold of me and got Happy instead. You explained to Happy what was going on. Happy was no help to you, you knew what the situation was, so you took matters into your own hands. It's what I would have done."

"But I thought you said, don't do anything I would do, especially don't do anything I wouldn't do," the quote was a vivid memory of his, it was something that he never forgot, yet consistently ignored.

Mr. Stark scoffed, "I guess I said that, but where would you be without a little growth? Everyone's safe, aren't they?"

Peter didn't know what to say, and he didn't know if he was dreaming. Was this the same Mr. Stark that Peter had gotten to know over the past year? The one that was always specific about parameters?

"Back seat, Spidey, let me drive."

When the shock rolled over, it was replaced with a giddy smile. Peter finally was becoming who he had dreamt of being.

…

As soon as the device was removed from Lena's vocal chords, she coughed, then spoke with clarity and determination.

"I need to return to the ocean."

A jump in his stomach, a stirring of emotion, and the fear of losing her, all shoved into one spoken word, "What?"

"I mean as a visit. They have to stop killing. They have to."

Peter and Mr. Stark exchanged looks of bewilderment, and as Lena got off the exam table in Mr. Stark's lab, both of them reached to stop her from going anywhere.

"Lena," Mr. Stark sounded guarded, as if he didn't want to test her, "Do you have any sort of plan for this? Or do you think you're just going to swim out there and force them to stop killing humans."

She laughed at him, scoffed even, as if the idea he presented was insane, "Of course not. That will just have me trapped back where I was before. I need a metal bird ride. And jet repulsors," she slid off the table and pushed past them. Peter could feel the strong desire she had to get in her pool.

When Peter looked at Mr. Stark, it seemed that Lena had arose more questions than answers for him. Sometimes Peter forgot that he had a direct line to the way his girlfriend spoke, he knew exactly what she meant when she said it. To others, they needed explanation.

He caught himself. Has he just referred to her as his girlfriend?

His heart felt a little warmer. Girlfriend. Nice.

"I- uh. She needs a jet ride. She wants one, and uh the jet repulsors would be a great addition if you were to upgrade her suit because she jumped off a building today and I um, I caught her."

The man let out an exasperated expulsion of air, this probably being the cherry on top to the array of news he had just received all at once, "I've already finished a few upgrades, the latest model has them, I just wasn't sure if she was ready yet."

"Sir, you should have seen her hand-to-hand combat today, she was really holding her own."

"The girl learns fast," Mr. Stark was still watching as Lena walked away. "I'm proud of her."

Peter couldn't help the smile on his face. Lena continued to inspire him every day, but apparently it wasn't just him who was inspired.

"I'm gonna go, you know, see how she's doing. Thanks for all your help, Mr. Stark."

"Pleasure's all mine."

Lena was swimming when Peter got to her room, right where he had expected her to be. Typically he would sit outside and watch, but this evening he ripped off his clothes down to his boxers and jumped in, treading water until she noticed his presence. She appeared in front of him, her hair down and framing her face. He hadn't seen it like that in a while, and he felt taken back to the moments before they had started fighting crime together. Everything felt simpler when she had been his small little secret.

She placed a hand on the side of his face, "I am not yours to keep secret."

They swam again, the strange feeling of not needing to hold his breath while in contact with her skin still troublesome, yet also peaceful. He understood why she found so much solace in the basin that Mr. Stark had customized just to her liking. Not only did it feel like home, but the serene way that she swam about was addictive.

Their lips locked and he was swept away by how much he loved her. He knew it was love. After months of being around Lena, this being - this human being - filled with an insurmountable capacity for devotion, he finally knew that the feelings he had for her were love. Love. Love love love love love.

When their heads came above water, their faces were still inches apart, foreheads pressed against close to each other, as if that was what was keeping them afloat. It wasn't- she had one hand on his back and one on his chest, the strength of her magnificent tail keeping their shoulders out of water. His strong, beautiful girl, holding him up, reminding him day by day that he was the person on this earth that she cared for above all else.

"I love you."

They said.