Hahahahahah new perspective. This is where some of the fanon and stuff comes in. You'll see it right away, so I'll just shut up now.

This didn't turn out quite as good as I wanted, but there's only like 12 of you guys reading this so oh fucking well. But I do appreciate every single one of you, so please don't stop reading! D'X seriously, please don't.

*—*—*—*—*

Peter frowned, it was in the middle of the day after he had met two very confusing girls. Women? One girl and one woman? Didn't matter. Females. Two confusing females.

The first one was roughly twenty-four hours earlier, give or take an hour or two, and Peter could honestly say it was the first time he had ever been told that trying to help stop a mugging was a waste of his time. But otherwise, it was a pretty normal confrontation— for Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. It almost sounded like a conversation Peter would have with MJ. He just didn't have many normal interactions with people his own age while in the suit, so the moment stuck in his head.

But then there was the more worrying confrontation that came late that night— Boa. The new vigilante, who Peter now knew was a female and not a male like a lot of people seemed to think.

The conversation he had with Boa just brought up a lot of questions and concerns in the young hero. First of all, how similar was she to Daredevil and how did she learn to fight? Daredevil didn't kill, but he was a little too violent for Peter's tastes. Was Boa the same way? Her fighting style— what little Peter got to see of it— was pretty well refined. It reminded him of Natasha's fighting style a bit. Precise, strong, calculated, and ruthless. But it was also different, there were strikes he knew had to have come from a different source than the rest. Strikes that reminded him of boxing, simple but effective and intuitive. And she was fast. That kind of fighting wasn't taught in self defense schools, neither of the styles he saw. They were advanced, too advanced to have been learned from anyone average.

And secondly, the organization named Dryad stuck in Peter's head. Boa might not have clarified anything, but his gut told him that personal meant it happened to her. Boa was most likely one of the kids Dryad had experimented on— so that brought up the question of how old of an organization they were, and if the guys Daredevil brought down were really the last of it.

Of course, Peter had spent the entire morning using all of his hacking skills to try and scrounge up data, but he wasn't familiar with the right places to look. His family claimed he was too pure to find out certain things, no matter how much of a genius he was. He always hated when they said that, but found himself having to begrudgingly agree in this case. He couldn't figure out where to look, but he knew who to ask.

The teen hopped off his bed, putting his Stark laptop on his bedside table.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Aunt Nat is?" He asked, grabbing his phone from his pillow. It had taken him a while to get used to the voice in the walls, but after living in Avengers Tower for two years he had grown used to having the AI around. Calling the Avengers "Aunt" or "Uncle" had taken longer than getting used to FRIDAY, calling Tony Stark "Dad," had only happened a few months earlier.

"Miss Romanov is currently headed to the common room. Do you wish for me to call her for you?"

"No, no," Peter hurriedly shook his head, already going to his door. "I'll go up to her, just ask her to wait for me."

"Sure thing, Peter."

"Thanks FRI," Peter said as he got into the elevator, which moved without him even having to voice where to go. FRIDAY already knew, after all. Natasha Romanov, AKA the Black Widow, was sat at the counter with a cup of juice when Peter walked in. He didn't need Nat to be looking at him to know she noticed his arrival— she noticed everything.

"What's up, baby spider?" She greeted with a grin. "Do you still want me to train you?"

Oh, right. He had asked Nat to start training him when he got home from patrol the previous night, still sore that Boa could instantly tell he hadn't had much professional training.

"Well yeah, but that's not why I wanted you to wait for me. I, uh," Peter sat down on the stool next to her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Something Boa said last night has been bothering me. She mentioned some group named Dryad, apparently the three guys Daredevil nabbed last night were their leaders. She was really worked up about it. Said that they're a group that kidnaps and experiments on orphans," as usual Nat's face was stoic, but the corner of her lips slightly turned down. "I think it was pretty personal to her. I wanted to make sure they were gone, you know, completely. But I can't find anything."

The Russian hummed in understanding, taking a sip from her cup. "I've heard of them, but I never really put much effort into learning anything. I can put out my feelers if you want, мой маленький паук," not a second after saying that, one of the vent guards flew from its place on the wall, and a familiar head peeked out of the vent.

"Don't bother, Nat. I know about those guys," Hawkeye said as he swung himself out of the vents and landed nimbly on the floor. "Morning, Petey boy."

"It's afternoon, Uncle Clint," Peter reminded the older man, eyebrows furrowed. The assassin shrugged, walking over and opening the fridge to root through it.

"Dryad's a pretty scummy group," Clint's voice was cheerful despite the information coming out of his mouth. "A wannabe red-room, which is why I kept them off Nat's radar or they all would have shown up dead a long time ago," the room grew a few degrees colder, courtesy of the readheaded assassin after that bit of info made it to her ears. Hawkeye pretended not to notice, closing the fridge door with a pudding cup firmly in his grasp. "Worse, they considered themselves scientific innovators. Wanted to make a new type of supersoldier and merge it with assassin training, like a unique sideshow version of our resident Robo Cop,"

"Uncle Bucky hates it when you call him that," Peter interrupted, frowning disapprovingly. The archer just shrugged, opening his pudding cup and digging a newly acquired spoon into it.

"They were slippery as hell. I was gonna track them down to get rid of them in a more humane way than Nat would have, but I got distracted by New York and Loki. I probably wouldn't have remembered the group if you didn't bring them up. You said this Devil of Hell's Kitchen caught the leaders?"

Pete nodded. "She said it was personal and didn't want me getting involved because, and I quote: 'it's obvious you don't have much formal combat training,' before she ditched me."

"Ah," The archer nodded, swallowing his mouthful of pudding. "That's why you asked me and Nat to train you. Well, only one kid survived their experiments the last time I checked. Based on what they were doing, I doubt they got another survivor. But if Boa is that girl, then you should probably stay away," Clint's eyes went hard all of a sudden. "Even if she escaped and managed to make herself into a vigilante, you should still think of her as a knockoff version of Natasha," he nodded to the steely redhead, who was tightly clutching her cup of juice. "It'll take a long time before she can get rid of the assassin's mindset Dryad doubtlessly drilled into her. And she's probably twenty, at the oldest. Dealing with that kind of trauma isn't going to be a cakewalk, especially when she's so young."

"Maybe I should look into this Boa," Natasha mused out loud, her body completely relaxed now and no longer showing even the tiniest hint of emotion that would give away what was going on in her head. "We don't know much about Daredevil anyway, and if she managed to run away from Dryad then she probably didn't complete whatever training they were giving her. I might be able to learn something about the guy," she sipped her juice. "Of course, I'll also be able to make sure she isn't an immediate threat. We don't know what kind of person she is yet. For all we know, she could actually be Daredevil's newest enemy instead of the sidekick we think she is. It wouldn't be hard to make it look like they were fighting together instead of with each other."

"She tried to keep me from getting hurt, and we met when she was already busy beating up muggers. She even called herself Daredevil's nanny," Peter argued, frowning. "I don't think they're enemies, and I don't think she's someone we should be looking at like a villain."

"Peter," Clint started, eyebrows drawn down. "You can't know—"

"My Spidey Sense never went off around her. Not even once," he insisted, adamant on his point. "I just want to make sure Dryad is completely finished. If they did experiment on Boa, then more members coming out of the shadows isn't going to do her any good. She needs to know that they are gone."

The silence stretched.

—*—*—*—*—*

A month later

"Okay, we've had enough time with the punching bags. Ready for the ring?" Matt asked, his hand casually flat against the side of the bag he had been using. I finished up the kick I had already begun, then stopped the bag's swinging and nodded. Saturday sparring and training was probably my favorite part of the week. Despite the trauma that came along with Dryad kidnapping me and whatnot, even I had to admit that fighting was something I was meant to do. Just like dancing or science, I felt as if I was doing exactly what I was meant to do when I fought. I could tell Matt felt the same way.

Still, after the first few Saturday Gym Days, I had worked up a healthy respect for Matt and a deep sympathy for anyone who had to actually face him as Daredevil.

"I guess. But be careful, will you? Just because you can't see my bruising doesn't mean people won't try to file child abuse against you because of it," I quipped, both terrified and thrumming with excited energy at the prospect of fighting him again. Matt's mouth quirked up in a smile.

"Maybe you should dodge better then," he snarked right back easily. "Fighting a poor, defenseless—"

"Don't you dare," I pointed my finger at him, but didn't bother trying to hide my grin. "Defenseless blind guy, my ass," Matt laughed unashamedly as I walked by his side until we reached the boxing ring, the both of us climbing up into it. "Okay, rules for the spar?" I asked, tilting my head slightly.

"None," he answered, rolling his shoulders. "I want a challenge for now."

"Asshole," I hissed fondly, getting into position. Taking a deep breath, I forced my body to settle down. Releasing my breath, I felt my heartbeat settle into a calm rhythm. I kept my eyes on Matt's whole body, my mouth slightly open and all my available senses as focused as possible. I knew from experience that my ears would offer very little help, but it was always good to have my hearing focused anyway.

I made the first attack. Usually I waited for Matt, but the both of us had seemingly endless pools of patience when it came to combat so I decided to make the first move this time around. My reaction and strike speeds were faster than his, and I took full advantage of that as I slammed force into my big toes that sent me hurtling forward. I knew from experience that my strikes and lunges like that were hard to follow with the naked eye, but Matt didn't have that problem. Able to sense my attack easily, he danced out of my path with aggravating ease and used his left arm to block my accompanying kick. I never used my super strength against him when it came to actual strikes, since I obviously didn't want to break any of this bones or anything.

Having as little continuous contact with the ground was the best strategy I had been able to come up with for fighting Matt. It still ended in me losing every time, but limiting the vibrations of my movements that he could feel through the ground meant that I could last longer against him. Unfortunately, it also meant that I couldn't sense those same vibrations very often from him that could help me block or find openings so I knew my strategy needed adjustment.

My training before Matt had been completely assassination oriented, but those tactics were useless against him. He could sense any and all of my attacks the second I began them, no matter where I was or what I was planning. Projectiles? Though I hadn't shot at him for obvious reasons, he could dodge anything I threw easily. The darkness offered no advantage whatsoever, and even my painfully silent movements were more than loud enough for him to pick up on. He had to teach me, little by little, his own style so that I could have an arsenal of moves to use not only against him, but also for crowd control purposes. I learned fighting techniques to allow me to take down four or five or more enemies so that I wasn't as easily overwhelmed when outnumbered anymore.

A solid fist met my torso, sending me skidding back several feet. I took a sharp breath, but shrugged off the sharp ache and rushed back in.

"Wait," Matt called out, making me pause in the middle of a new strike. His brows were furrowed. "I hit you right in your diaphragm, but you didn't gasp for breath or anything. That hit should have stopped you completely," he informed me, confused. I blinked.

"Really? I mean, it hurt like hell and I definitely lost my breath, but…" I knew exactly what a hit to the diaphragm like that should have done. It was a very basic weak point strike I had been taught long before even meeting Matt.

"I know, I heard the air leave your lungs," Matt confirmed, crossing his arms. "But the little breath you took shouldn't have been enough for you to completely recover. It doesn't make sense."

I frowned, thinking back on all of my previous fights to see if there was an explanation. "Well…" I started slowly. "Come to think of it, I don't get short of breath really. I had mild asthma before the whole Dryad thing, but ever since the experiments I've had no problem with shortness of breath. Even after running or exercising for a long time," the answer suddenly came to me, making me blink. "Snake DNA."

"I'm sorry, what?" Matt asked, my sudden remark catching him a little off guard. "I'm not an expert in biology, what about snake DNA? Is it an ability you didn't realize you got from it?"

"Snakes have an extremely low oxygen requirement," I explained. "That's why herpetologists say never to behead a snake, because they'll stay alive for so long afterwards due to that low oxygen requirement that it's inhumane. Snakes can survive in closed boxes and even underwater for surprising amounts of time because they don't need to breath as often as humans," I was smiling, Biology and the excitement of a possible new ability making me giddy. "I've never tested my ability to hold my breath, actually. Not that I can remember anyway, they might have done it back during experiments but I've suppressed most of those memories."

Matt shrugged, ignoring my probably concerning nonchalance regarding my torture and memory suppression. "Let's test it out now, then. If you ever have to swim to rescue somebody or somebody tries using gas against you, it could be important to know your limit."

I nodded eagerly, walking over and sitting only a couple feet across from him. I crossed my legs and sat as if I was going to meditate, which I had also been taught by Dryad but Matt had gotten me into again for more healthy reasons. I exhaled for a long moment, getting rid of every bit of air from my lungs that I could for accuracy's sake. Matt nodded when he could hear no more air, and I took a normal deep breath and held it.

I slipped into meditation as I held my breath, closing my eyes. Paying too much attention to myself would make it harder to continue holding my breath, so I cleared my mind and left it up to my body to warn me when I needed to take a new breath.

I lost track of time meditating. The next thing I was aware of, my lungs were starting to lightly burn. It wasn't too bad, so I didn't react. A short while later I could not longer ignore the discomfort, and let loose my air in a whoosh. The fresh oxygen I took in felt and tasted sweet, instantly soothing my body. I opened my eyes to see Matt's reaction.

My gua— father, the paperwork had gone through and he had officially adopted me two weeks earlier— had his red eyebrows raised high on his face. His thumb clicked down on a button he had on his phone, and a mechanical voice spoke into the air:

"Twenty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds."

"So closer to twenty-two minutes even, since I took too long to stop the timer," Matt finally spoke. "But, still. That's amazing. What about when your lungs aren't completely full?"

I shrugged. "I can test that on my own, you'll probably get bored with all this experimentation stuff," really, I just wanted to do so many trials that I knew he would get frustrated with how tedious it was by the end. "I'll tell you the results though. Ooh, I can swim all secretly under the water for stealth missions," I was bouncing excitedly from my spot sitting in the middle of the ring with Matt.

"You're a vigilante, not a spy Hebi," Matt's dry comment was balanced by the humor shown in the grin on his face and the slight cock of his eyebrow. "Honestly. Missions?"

"Name's Murdock. Teal-Murdock. Hebi Teal— Okay it just doesn't work. I can't do the whole Bond thing with a name that long," I whined with a pout that Matt couldn't see. He chuckled all the same, probably just from the sheer absurdity of my tone of voice. But, without mercy, he stood up and placed his phone on a chair where it was out of harm's way again.

"Okay, now that our curiosity is sated. Your reaction time might be superhuman, but you need to get better with your stamina. Taking down two people in less than two seconds isn't going to do anything if you're too worn out afterwards to keep protecting yourself."

My stamina wasn't that bad, but his exaggeration got the point across nonetheless.

"Crowd control training then?" I asked almost rhetorically, knowing that it was the one that tested my stamina and endurance the most. Matt nodded.

"After one more no-holds-barred spar. We didn't finish the last one."

Part of me was very happy he couldn't see the predatory smile that took over my face at that declaration. Maybe I liked fighting a bit too much. Even if Matt always handed me my ass.

"I'll try not to bruise you too much since you have the first day of school on Monday," he teased. The reminder sent a thrill of nervous and excited energy through me, making me slightly jittery.

"Careful," I replied without the predatory smile fading away from my face even the slightest. "Adrenaline might give me an advantage."

"Good, maybe you'll finally give me a run for my money then."

"You're such a jerk."

—*—*—*—*—*

Hebi could only be happy that her she'd cycle did not overlap with the first week of school. She wanted to be able to take in all the sights right away and not have to flounder around trying to find rooms in an unfamiliar environment while blind. So, she was pretty happy when she walked up to the campus alongside Matt early that Monday morning able to take in the sight of her new school without issue.

"You have your hearing aids, right?" Matt asked casually, even though he could probably sense the small items resting in the teen's pockets. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow and hoping her attitude could somehow be tangibly felt. He picked up on it regardless, smirking at her. He had strong armed her into getting some back when he had adopted her officially, and she agreed only so that she had proof of a disability that she could use as an excuse if her abilities made her behave oddly during school hours. She hated the fact that she needed what she felt was a handicap, and Matt understood that sentiment so intimately that he made sure not to bring up the devices unless necessary.

Taking the hint, Hebi slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out the small case holding the hearing aids. Quickly, as if to try and forget about them, she pushed the devices into her ear and shoved the case back into her pocket where it could remain unseen.

"You know, those things typically work best when they're turned on," Matt said, voice once again painfully casual. He knew how hard it was for Hebi to even so much as put the aids in, let alone actually use them. He could feel her whole body slightly sag as she sighed, then raised a hand up to turn on the devices and dial them up to the proper volume.

Feeling like she needed some extra encouragement after that, Matt put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "It'll take some getting used to, but try okay? You can turn them off if things get too loud. I know how overwhelming school was for me after the accident."

Hebi wrinkled her nose. "Okay. The smells will be the worst thing I think, but I lived on the New York streets so I can deal. I think. Probably. I'll call you if I get overwhelmed," maybe, she added silently to herself. She didn't want to bother him during work if it wasn't necessary. He patted her shoulder.

"Okay. Text foggy during lunch, I don't want you calling unless it's really an emergency but I still want an update or two on how you're doing. Call me when school's out so I can meet you halfway home if I can."

"Such a dad," Hebi teased, feeling light and weightless and happy for a dangerous moment. He had the tendency to make her feel like that, despite how ingrained it was in her to fear joy like that since she knew from experience that it made the bad things that would inevitably happen next that much less bearable. "Go to work, you got paperwork and meetings waiting for you."

Matt nodded, then took his cane and extended it since he was going to be walking without someone "leading" him now, and walked off after one last goodbye.

Looking at her new school again, Hebi took a deep breath and walked up with her hands tightly clutching her backpack straps in front of her shoulders.

It was obvious people knew she was new, as she got many looks as she walked through the hallways. It was a magnet school after all, it didn't get many new students since it had strict guidelines for enrollment and who was or wasn't allowed to apply for attendance. Thankfully, most people seemed to shrug her off as a freshman so the looks didn't linger very long.

Having had the usual breakfast at home, Hebi stopped at a bench instead of the cafeteria to pull out her schedule. No harm in getting to her first class a little early, after all, especially since she didn't know the layout of the building yet.

Eyes scanning over the campus map and her schedule, she made her way slowly towards her first class of the day. English. Easy enough to start with.

She pulled up to the right door only to see that the room was dark on the other side, which made her frown. The teacher wasn't there yet. She turned around, deciding to just sit by the door and wait, only to stiffen in surprise at the sight of three people behind her, staring at her. The two boys looked confused, and the sole girl amongst them looked slightly interested but mostly bored.

"Um, do you need help finding your room? This is a sophomore level class," the tall, skinny boy of the trio asked awkwardly. Hebi blinked, and then rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

"Ah. Actually, I am a sophomore," Hebi replied, suddenly not as confident as she usually was now that she was around people her own age. All three of them raised their eyebrows.

"Oh, wow. You must have had to jump through some serious hoops to enroll after your Freshman year," the shorter, chubby boy pitched in his thoughts. He got an elbow in the gut from his friend for his phrasing. Something about that attitude, though, made a few knots in Hebi relax and she chuckled.

"I sure did. I'm Hebi, Hebi Teal," she introduced herself, barely remembering in time that normal teenagers didn't typically shake hands when introducing themselves. Matt and Hebi had agreed to keep her last name as just "Teal," at school, since Murdock was a bit of a high profile name after Fisk's takedown and it would keep Hebi safer at school to leave it out for the time being.

"Michelle," the girl introduced herself casually, nodding her head in greeting before sitting down on the floor near the door and proceeding to ignore the three of them in favor of reading the book she had. Hebi raised an eyebrow in good humor, smirking at the boys.

"She always like that?" Hebi asked, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. It made the boys in front of her smile, and they nodded.

"Yeah, don't worry about her. I'm Peter, and this is Ned. Um, wanna sit with us until the teacher gets here? I mean, I totally understand if you don't but I just thought—"

Sensing that the boy's rapid-fire speech wasn't going to stop anytime soon unless she stopped it for him, Hebi just smiled. "Yeah sure, that sounds great. I don't really know anybody yet, obviously," she was slightly distracted as she moved to sit with them as they sat down on the floor by the door together. Peter smelled familiar, but Hebi couldn't place why. It had been a whole month since she had seen Spider-Man, in or out of her own costume, though, so she couldn't be blamed for shrugging it off and thinking that she had probably just run into him on the street or something.

Peter, on the other hand, had recognized her immediately as that girl from the alleyway that had called his trying to save her a waste of his time. Barely able to believe his own crazy luck, he found himself wanting to talk to her. So far she didn't give off the same badass vibes she had back when she had fought off her own mugger, but as he asked her casual (he tried at casual anyway) questions about the kind of science she liked most, he gradually saw that personality come out as she got more and more comfortable around him and his friends.

"I mean, what if you took a reptile's smaller oxygen requirement and isolated the DNA compounds that made it possible? Theoretically, you could use that to help asthmatics and the need for inhalers would drop drastically," She was ranting, the confidence Peter remembered from the month before suddenly present in her voice and eyes. Ned and Peter, as fellow nerds, were absorbed in every word she said. Peter more so than Ned though, since Ned was more techy and Peter was more Biology-and-chemistry oriented like Hebi herself.

"Don't you think spiders have more potential though?" Michelle asked casually, her smug glance at Peter making the poor guy squirm. Hebi, not suspecting anything, groaned in dismay, making all three of her new friends raise their eyebrows.

"What? Don't like spiders?" Ned asked, smirking at Leter almost the same way Michelle had. Hebi wrinkles her nose, then glanced around to make sure nobody was in earshot. She leaned forward so they could hear her as she spoke softly to them.

"Okay, you can't tell anyone about this—they probably wouldn't believe the story anyway— but I met spider-man like a month ago," Ned and Peter's eyes widened comically, and Michelle raised her eyebrows. Hebi missed the amusement that filled the other girl's eyes to the brim. "This guy was gonna try to mug me, and Spider-Man showed up—"

"Oh my god, are you okay?!" Ned asked, forcing Hebi and Peter to shush him immediately. He shrunk back a bit, but repeated; "Well? He didn't hurt you, did he, the mugger?"

Hebi scoffed. "Yeah right, the guy was an amateur. I've learned self defense since I was little, and had the guy disarmed and almost taken down before Spider-Man even showed up. He didn't need to, really, but he webbed the guy up and I teased him about the fact that I hadn't needed the help. Anyway, not the point," Hebi waved her hand to show that the attack itself wasn't what she had brought the topic up for. "Anyway, I've been jealous of the guy pretty much since he showed up. I mean, he created accurate synthetic spider webbing when scientists have been trying and failing to do that very thing for decades? What the hell? The medical applications, if the formula can be adapted, are ridiculous," Hebi ran a hand through her short hair. "So I took a sample off the mugger before the cops got there. But the stupid thing dissolved before I could examine it, do you have any idea how frustrating that was?!"

"No, I can't even imagine. Can you imagine, Pete?" Ned asked his friend, a smile nearly splitting his face in half even as he tried his hardest to keep a poker face (obviously didn't work). Peter, eyes wide and frantic with panic, shook his head even as he tried to telepathically communicate to Ned to shut up (that didn't work either).

"N-n-nope! Can't imagine it at all! What were you saying about blood examination, Hebi? That was really fascinating. Oh look, here comes Mrs. Phillips!"

Hebi, thoroughly confused and not at all oblivious to their awkwardness (she was a trained assassin, despite the fact that she wasn't purposely trying to analyze anyone at the moment and was trying very hard to be normal), looked over at Michelle as Peter and Ned hurriedly got up to greet the teacher.

"Are they always that jumpy? Do they not like Spider-Man or something?" Hebi asked, feeling like she was missing something huge. Michelle just snorted, closing her book and standing up.

"Nah, they're just losers like that. You get used to it."

"Uh, Okay then," Hebi agreed with a shrug. She hadn't interacted with people her own age for more than five minutes in years, so nobody could blame her for shrugging off the behavior as nothing too odd. After all, she was probably the worst person to try and decide how normal teenagers should act. She ran an online store that sold homemade tea blends, performed on the street on weekends for fun, was a vigilante at night, and had PTSD because of being experimented on and trained to be a child assassin for a chunk of her childhood. So.

Oh yeah, and there was the whole used-to-be-homeless thing too.

Resolving to try and figure the boys out some other time, Hebi stood up and followed her new friends and teacher into her first class of the day. Not wanting to give up the small bit of comfort she had gained from the three other teens, she sat close to them at the back of the room. Really, that meant that she sat on Peter's right while Ned was on his left and Michelle sat behind them.

Yeah, Hebi actually let Michelle sit behind her despite her training yelling at her to get her back to a wall for safety reasons. She was really out of her element.

At least she sat right against the window and had a very clear view of the door.

The room was mostly filled within the next handful of minutes, but even dealing with the onslaught of scents and heat signatures couldn't blind Hebi to the way Peter twitched at the next boy to enter the class. Watching her new friend out of the corner of her eye, Hebi observed as the new boy walked straight over to sit in front of them, wasting no time after dropping his backpack to the floor before turning to face them.

The sneer on his face did nothing to endear him to Hebi.

"Hey new girl. You probably don't know this, but you don't wanna sit next to Penis Parker. His Lame is contagious."

Hebi raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. Normal social interaction she was hopeless at, but this? Dealing with a bully? Not so much.

"At least he has an IQ above thirty, so far you have me doubting that you do," Hebi drawled lazily, not missing a beat. "And honestly? Lame? Maybe I should help you out with your insults. That is, if you have time after school that isn't taken up by tutoring. Maybe I should teach you manners while I'm at it— Hi, my name is Hebi. What's your name, so I know what to put down on my Shit List."

The boy's face was rapidly growing red. Hebi dimly wondered if human heads could explode from a buildup of anger and embarrassment. Next to her, Peter and Ned were simultaneously sputtering and trying very hard not to laugh. Michelle didn't bother trying to hide anything, she snickered unrepentantly.

"Flash," he bit out angrily. "But it won't matter, you'll forget it once I hit you over the head," he raised his arm, ignoring the way Ned's face was growing exceedingly more smug and Peter was frantically shaking his head and trying to warn Flash about his impending doom. Deciding not to make the scene the boys clearly expected her to, though, Hebi just smirked.

"Oh please, go right ahead. I'm sure beating up someone with a disability will make you look real cool," Hebi's voice dripped with sarcasm at the end of that sentence, what she said making Flash pause. Deciding to make her point, Hebi reached into one ear and pulled out a hearing aid, displaying it to Flash. She might have hated the damn things, but she wasn't about to show weakness in front of Flash. At least this way, the aids could actually serve her a purpose she was comfortable with. "Of course, you could always finish that swing and get beat up by someone with a disability in less than five seconds flat, but that's up to you."

The teacher clearing her throat at the front of the room made Flash's choice for him, and he grumbled but turned around and took his seat. Hebi probably shouldn't have, but she felt very smug. Ned and Peter's wide-eyed gazes on her made her preen a little bit.

"You can call me MJ," Michelle said from behind Hebi, who couldn't hold back a smile at the implication behind that deceptively simple declaration.

"Alright everybody," the teacher at the front of the class drew the attention to herself as the bell went off to signal the start of the period. "As some of you have already seen, we have a new sophomore joining you guys. Treat her well. Introduce yourself please," the teacher said, nodding towards Hebi. The girl nodded, standing up and trying very hard to hide her awkwardness. Thankfully, poker faces were taught in Assassin 101.

"Hey. I'm Hebi, and yes I have purple hearing aids in. No, I'm not deaf, yes I can hear you whispering about me over there because the aids are on and I am not an idiot," Hebi pointedly glared at the girl at the front of the class who had been whispering about her none too nicely. Or quietly. That girl sucked at whispering, actually. "And yes, I know sign language," she used her hands to sign along with that last declaration. Figuring she had answered the most likely questions, she nodded and sat back down. The teacher blinked, raising an eyebrow at the girl's attitude but ultimately shrugging it off and turning to start droning on about what they could expect to do throughout the year in that class.

"Dude, you are so cool!" Ned whispered loudly, leaning over his desk to look at Hebi around Peter. Hebi snorted, smiling at the hyper boy. "You told off Flash and made having a disability look cool. How bad is your hearing anyway if you're not deaf?"

Normally Hebi would have been annoyed, but Med was asking so innocently that she actually found herself holding back laughter at his questions.

"I'm about halfway to being deaf, maybe a bit more," Hebi answered softly, marveling at the fact that she could actually still hear herself despite her voice being so low. Having hearing aids was so weird. "Normally if I'm whispering like this, I wouldn't be able to hear myself. If I turn the aids off or don't have them in for some reason, don't sneak up behind me. I might punch you in your throat."

Ned and Peter's hands instantly flew to their necks, and they grimaced. MJ, behind them, gave an approving hum.

"Hey, I know this is going to sound weird," Peter said after class as the four of them walked through the hallways. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "But, uh, I think it's cool that you have hearing aids. Or, well, shit that makes me sound mean. I mean that it's cool. Or fine..? I sound insensitive, don't I? What I want to say is that one of my uncles is deaf and he's, like, one of the most badass people I know. He's also incredibly immature but he and I prank the rest of my family sometimes, it's great. And I know sign language because of him so if you want someone to talk to—"

Taking pity on the poor rambling teen, Hebi chuckled and awkwardly patted Peter's shoulder. "Thanks. I'm glad you don't treat me like I'm glass. The most badass person I know is blind, and he hates it when people treat him like he isn't capable of taking care of himself. I'm the same way, treat me like you'd treat your uncle. You seem to like him a lot."

Peter nodded excitedly. "He's super cool. His eyesight is perfect, he has, like, almost superhuman aim. It's crazy."

Hebi chuckled, surprised at how relaxed he, Ned, and MJ had already made her.

"Ooh! Let's compare schedules, your class might not even be in this direction!" Ned spoke up suddenly, pulling a crumpled piece of paper form his pocket hurriedly. Hebi wicked, having not thought about that.

"Shit, you're right. Here," she handed her own schedule off to Peter and Ned, whose eyes scanned the paper quickly. Peter was the first to relax.

"Man, What luck!" Peter smiled widely. Hebi wondered to herself if he had ever blinded anyone with that bright smile. Huh. Man blinded by bright smile, gains superhuman sensitivity to Peter Parkers. Hebi had to hold back a snort at her ridiculous thought process. "You have most of your classes with me and Ned, and you have MJ in the two you don't have with us."

Hebi felt a grin tugging at her lips. "That is some luck," she agreed. Maybe the stuff she was going to learn wasn't the only thing she had to look forward to at school. Apparently she hadn't lost the ability to make friends, even though she thought she had.

—*—*—*—*—*

"You shorted out the robotic arm by touching it…" Peter said slowly, confusion all over his face. The four of us, me, Peter, Ned, and MJ, we're sitting together at a mostly empty table eating lunch. May had decided to mother hen, and had not only bought a Japanese lunch box— bento— but had actually filled it with a modern Japanese lunch. Because I was fifty percent Japanese and apparently he wanted me to have memories of that heritage not related to my evil father.

It was delicious.

Ned was trying his hardest not to laugh, and MJ had amusement all over her face. I was trying very hard not to cut my piece of omelette in half with my chopsticks.

"Yes, Peter, that is what happened."

"It wasn't even on," he continued, still baffled. At least he wasn't laughing. I sighed, rubbing my forehead with my free hand.

"I suck at engineering. Tell you what though, I need to get better if I want to make breakthroughs sooner rather than later. I can't be shorting out machines with just my presence. Could you help me out after class or during study hall?"

Peter hesitates, clearly thinking something over. "Well… I can't help out on days that we have decathlon practice, and I have stuff to do after school most other days. But if you want, you can come over to my place during the day on Saturdays…"

"Dude!" Ned interrupted, eyes wide. He proceeded to very terribly whisper to Peter: "We just met her today, you can't just invite her over right away!"

"Even if I couldn't read lips, Ned, I can still hear you," I deadpanned, raising a single eyebrow at him. The boy blushed in embarrassment, ducking his head.

"I thought you turned your hearing aids off because the cafeteria is too loud…"

"I did."

"Oh…"

Peter managed a smirk at our interaction, but looked a little troubled by Ned's words. "Well," Peter started slowly, hands fumbling with his fork. "Ned's kinda right, Hebi. My family is really protective and I can't just let anyone come over," he worried his lip between his teeth. I raised both my eyebrows at that, tilting my head. He caught the movement, looking up at me sheepishly. "Oh, uh, they're kinda high profile, you know? I was, uh, adopted two years ago but they kept my last name the same in school to avoid me getting too much attention."

I smiled, causing Ned and Peter to blink. "Oh! That's so weird," I put my chopsticks down. "I'm the same way. I just got adopted, officially, two weeks ago. But my dad has been my legal guardian for several months now," I chuckled at the way Peter's eyes widened comically. It seemed to be a very common reaction for him. "My dad's kinda high profile too, lately, so we did the same thing. I totally get it, he probably won't let me invite any friends over to our place unless he gets a full background check and meets you all in person at least twice," I rolled my eyes fondly. "He probably wouldn't have let me visit your place without meeting you first, anyway, so it's cool."

"Well, the robotics lab is open on weekends," Ned pitched in, drawing us back to the original topic. "Pete and I can both help you out, that way!"

Ned's energy was strangely comforting. Normally bursts of energy would mean trouble or danger, but his energy was constant and steady and didn't set off my adrenaline. It was nice. And Peter, though a constant ball of awkward nerves, held the same kind of constant energy and it was a very good change of pace for me. I smiled at their offer, nodding.

"Sounds good, I got Saturdays free," I answered. I usually went out to busk on Saturdays after our morning in the gym, but Mat would argue that school was more important anyway. In this case, considering that learning how to deal with machinery was important for my scientific future, I agreed. "My dad and I train together on Saturday mornings though, so when do you want to meet up here so I know when to cut it short?"

Peter tilted his head as he thought. "What about ten? I got some stuff to do in the morning too, but I should be able to get out by then."

I nodded easily, having to mentally reinforce that he meant ten in the morning, not at night like all of my shady meetings would have been. Or vigilante meetings, as it was lately. I didn't even realize how odd it was for a teenager to be up before ten on a Saturday, considering I didn't have anything accurate to compare to.

"Cool!" Ned bounced in his seat. "I'll be here too! I can't wait until we get to teach you coding, it's so fun, you'll love it! Do you like legos?"

Legos? I furrowed my eyebrows. "What are legos?"

The silence was deafening, and I would have shrank back in my seat if it wasn't for my training telling me to hold my ground and show no weakness.

"How do you not know what legos are?" That question actually came from MJ, who put her book down with something like concern in her eyes. I rubbed the back of my head with one hand, using the other to shove a bite of my food into my mouth. Japanese omelette, yum.

"Hebi…" Peter spoke slowly. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but who was taking care of you before your dad got guardianship?"

I swallowed my food. Unable to run away, no escape, subject change had zero chance of success. Lie? Not recommended. Truth? Also not recommended. Half-truth it was.

"My birth mother was awesome, but we were pretty poor so I probably missed out on a lot. After she died, my birth father…" I bit down the bile that threatened to rise in the back of my throat at the thought of him. "Let's just say that, before he died, he kept me in the house all the time," without much of anything not needed for survival went unsaid, but understood if Peter's expression was anything to go off of. "After that, I lived on the streets for a couple years 'cause I didn't want to risk foster homes, you know? Meeting my dad was a stroke of luck. And we aren't going to talk about this again, deal?"

Peter and Ned nodded frantically, Michelle just frowning before giving a single solid nod of agreement.

"Okay, So legos are toys. Most of them are technically meant for little kids, but…" Ned started to explain, and I listened raptly between bites of my food as he and Peter told me about the toys and showed me pictures of what they had been able to make with the little bricks. I vaguely remembered having them in my kindergarten class, but those memories were so dull that I wasn't surprised I had been unable to make the connection.

"I'd totally be up for putting some together with you guys," I spoke up when their explanation was over and my food was almost gone. "Choose a pretty easy set at first though, yeah? If I'm able to short out a robotic arm with a simple gaze, I don't even want to know what I can do to a thousand-piece lego set."

The laughs following my statement made me smile softly. Hopefully it wasn't a mistake to trust these strangers with so much info, even if the lies carefully strung throughout it should be enough to throw them off if necessary.

My phone buzzed, reminding me that I had forgotten to text Foggy like I agreed to. I yelped, pulling the phone up and answering the call. "Sorry, sorry! I only have five minutes left in lunch—"

"You scared me for a second Hebi," Matt's relieved voice came from the other side of the call. "How's your day? Doing okay? You don't usually forget to text Foggy when I tell you to."

"Yeah, actually. I made some friends."

"Really? That's surprising."

"I know r— hey!" I laughed along with him, the jerk. "I'll tell you all about it when I get home, okay? I gotta go, call you when school gets out."

"Alright, bye."

My three new friends were looking at me with knowing smiles, and I just huffed and put my phone back in my pocket. "Shut up," I grumbled even though they hadn't said anything. "I told you, I'm lucky to have my dad."

—*—*—*—*—*

"So I'm guessing it was a good day?" Matt was asking as we walked home together, him having met me four blocks away from the school.

I smiled.

"Yeah. Yeah it was."