Things had gone about as well as they could with May- she'd been worried, but once he'd talked her down and explained that he'd lost the Stark Internship she'd accepted that as reasoning for his odd behavior and moved immediately on to comforting him.

After he'd showered they'd hung out for a bit, watching a rerun of some sitcom- F.R.I.E.N.D.S, Peter thought, but wasn't sure, he was having too hard a time paying attention- before she declared it bedtime (for herself, anyway), as she had work in the morning.

And he had school, where he'd have to plead his case to Mr. Morita and hope to god he could somehow avoid expulsion. He couldn't take losing Spiderman AND his friends, too. To go to a school without Ned, or Liz….or Katya….

Would he and Katya even be allowed to train anymore? He hadn't asked Mr. Stark at the time, it hadn't crossed his mind and besides, wouldn't have been appropriate. He hoped so. Just because they weren't partners anymore didn't mean they had to stop being best fr-

Before Peter had the chance to second guess his mental usage of that word he was interrupted by a tap on his window. He knew who it was before he even looked up.

"Mr. Stark let you leave the tower this late?" He asked her as he opened the window for her to come in. Katya slipped in noiselessly, closing the window behind her and shrugging.

"I don't know. I didn't ask." She sat down in the middle of the floor, cross-legged. "How'd it go with your Aunt?""

Peter shrugged. "It went okay. She was worried, but not just about the ferry thing. She says she knows that I"ve been sneaking out at night, and that I've been ditching detention and decathlon and all that."

"So what did you tell her?"

"That I lost the Stark Internship."

Katya leaned back on her elbows. "And how did she take that?"

Peter, meanwhile, leaned forward, as he was sitting on his bottom bunk. "She took it really well, actually. She was really comforting about it. And I don't think she likes Mr. Stark all that much, to be honest." Peter scratched at the back of his head.

"Wise woman."

"Didn't go so great on your end, I'm guessing?" Peter asked her, "Or else you wouldn't be here."

Katya finally just let her elbows give way and lay all the way out on the floor, looking up at his ceiling. "We actually haven't spoken since the rooftop."

"Katya I left the tower hours ago. What were you doing this whole time?"

Katya screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, wringing her hands out in front of her chest.

"Something….." She took another deep breath, "Happened. And I want-" she cut herself off with another measured breath. "-to talk about it, but I can't even think about it without this nonsense-" her voice pitched up, and she pointed to her eyes angrily, which were filling with tears, "-happening, and I don't know what's going on or why it's happening but it's distracting and I'm stuck and I can't make it stop." She rubbed at her eyees angrily and tried to take another deep breath, glaring at Peter's ceiling through raw eyes. Peter got down on the floor with her, laying on his stomach so their heads were even.

"Can't make what stop?"

"This!" she waved at her own face, "My eyes get all watery and itchy and it's like there's so much more water that wants to come out, and I haven't been exposed to any gas or chemicals or anything but my chest is what hurts, and it's heavy, like- " she scowled, frustration pruning her vocabulary. "Why is my face leaking?!"

"Wha- leaking? Katya, you're crying."

Tears began to stream steadily down her temples and into her hair. She looked so confused. "I am?"

Now Peter was confused. "...Yeah?"

"Oh," she said, her voice small. "This isn't how I imagined it'd feel like."

Peter knew that in some aspects, he knew Katya almost too well- they could have conversations with glances, and she was always there to block him before he kicked, catch him before he fell, finished his thought for him before he could find the words- and that in other ways, he didn't know her at all. What little he knew was mostly secondhand information- that she'd been trained where Black Widow was trained, that somehow they were linked along the way, enough for Black WIdow to arrange for her to live here; which implied that she didn't have anywhere else to go. Which implied she had no family. But he'd never pried about that, and had no clue what sort of training facility she came from other than it was mercilesss, that had kept her both so sheltered yet so worldly; He knew she knew multiple languages, but walking into Delmar's all those weeks ago had clearly been a new experience. But to not know how to cry?

His mind flashed back to the multiple times throughout the day where she'd comforted him, when his voice was cracking and his eyes red-rimmed and she knew just what to say on top of the Washington Monument and just when to squeeze his hand today at the tower. She clearly knew what it was. "Have you never been allowed to cry before?" Peter chose his words deliberately.

Katya sniffled, as the tears had grown stronger, and wiped at her face, shaking her head. "No," she laughed breathlessly, "I guess not."

Peter sat up, and tugged her up with him, pulling her into a hug. She didn't tense up at the contact, but she did start to cry a little harder, only this time it was into Peter's t-shirt and not her own hair. He smoothed her hair down in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Well, welcome to the club."

"Thanks." Her voice was muffled by his shoulder, "I hate it."

"We all do." Peter reassured her.

They sat there for a bit, Peter rubbing small circles onto her back, as she navigated whatever was going on in her head. Once the shaking in her shoulders had died down, she pulled away and offered him a small, sad smile. Peter took it and pocketed it close to his chest.

"Thanks" She managed, wiping at her face again. She gathered her hair up in her hands and piled it on top of her head, pulling it through the scrunchie she'd had on her wrist just to get it out of her face.

"Anytime." Peter offered her his own small, sad smile in return. He scooted backwards a little to give her some space to gather herself. "Do you still want to tell me what upset you?"

She nodded, but it took her a few moments to start speaking. "Back on the ferry, when you were webbing it back together, I- I killed one of the Winged Man's guys. I didn't mean to, I swear, there was just so much going on, and I didn't have time to correct myself- and I know we said no killing and I fucked it up but I figured you had a right to know everything that actually happened today, but it was an accident I swear-"

Peter cut her off with a hand on her shoulder. "What Mr. Stark said really got to you, huh?"

Katya nodded. "I try so hard to be careful-" she cut herself off, and sighed. "It's just frustrating. I thought it would be easier to leave behind."

"Look, I don't know what kind of environment you grew up in, or how you were taught, or trained, but I've seen you adjust yourself in fights tons of times, and I'm sure there's plenty of times I haven't even been aware of. It's hard to fight instincts. It just takes practice. You're still learning." He squeezed her shoulder. "And you're doing a great job. Mr. Stark had no right to say what he said."

"To either of us," Katya adjusted herself so she was sitting cross legged. "He shouldn't have taken that suit from you."

Peter's face darkened. "I just wanted to show him what I"m capable of. I never meant to put anyone in danger."

It was Katya's turn to smooth Peter's hair, which she did with a soft smile. "I know."

A few minutes passed, a comfortable silence settling between them. Finally, before he really registered the words leaving his mouth, he told her, "You can stay over you know." He gestured to the bunk beds behind him. "I've technically got two beds." This last part was said a bit sheepishly, though he didn't know why. "You know, just in case you're not ready to face Mr. Stark again yet."

Katya picked at an aglet on her boots. "I'd like that."