A lot happens. Also, please comment if you like anything about this story! You guys' comments keep me going :)

*—*—*—*—*

I twisted, landing a solid kick with my shin straight to a robber's abdomen. Trying to rob an apartment in Hell's Kitchen? Not the best use of their time, I thought to myself. There were two more guys in the building with me. I quickly shot forward, grabbing the head of the guy I had just kicked as he gagged and slammed his head into my knee.

I didn't watch as he slumped onto the ground unconscious before turning and catching the fist of one of the other guys, bending backwards at the same time to avoid a flying—

"Why would you throw the TV?" I asked, raising an eyebrow under my mask. "Isn't that kinda the reason you're here? Wasteful," I shook my head in disappointment, throwing the guy whose hand I had caught into the opposite wall and dropping backwards into the ground, kicking the ankles out from under TV-guy, who had somehow gotten a gun and aimed it at me. Maybe he had it the whole time, everything smelled like gunpowder at that point. "You have a gun but lead with the TV? Go back to criminal kindergarten," I quipped, lunging forward and slamming my hand on top of his before he could pull the trigger. Fingers now broken, I took the weapon from the guy now screaming in pain and crushed it into useless scrap metal with one hand.

"Dirty mutant," he growled with pain lacing his voice when he saw that feat of strength. I rolled my eyes despite him being unable to see it, and punched him right between the eyes.

"No, I took a shower and I know for a fact I don't stink," I retorted even though the guy was now passed out, rolling out of the way of the guy I had thrown, who was trying to keep his distance and beat me up at the same time by using a broken chair leg like a sword. Unimpressed, I dodged each sloppy swing easily. "You, on the other hand, need about ten showers," I told the grimy man, grabbing the chair leg out of the air on the next failed strike and jamming it straight into it throat. As he choked, I swung it into the side of his face and dropped the failure of a weapon.

"One, two, three, four," I counted the downed robbers on the ground. "Five. All accounted for, awesome," I then proceeded to drag each passed out body over to the fire escape, where I sat them side by side and tied them there with the cords they had been using to tie all their stolen stuff down in the back of their stereotypical big white van. Once that was done, I hopped over the railing and jogged several blocks until I reached more fighting and the scent of Matt's blood.

Wait.

Shit.

I opened my mouth a little wider, fighting down panic. My shoulders relaxed after a second; it wasn't anywhere near enough to be life threatening. But still, that was more than he usually lost. Had he been stabbed again?

Deciding a strategic position would be best if the guy was good enough to rough up Matt like that, I climbed up a building and approached by rooftop.

Looking down, What I saw nearly sent me into a panic attack.

Familiar dyed navy-blue hair, boy cut in the back like mine but without any bangs. I forced myself not to gasp, instead clenching my jaw as the figure fought against my adoptive father. It looked like a stalemate, with the way they evenly traded blows, but I knew otherwise. Matt was winning, he wasn't even going full out.

But that wasn't a good thing, because it either meant he was underestimating her or she had shown off her ability and he was being cautious.

But the moment she showed her ability, if she had, was the moment he should have finished the fight.

The woman reached to a wall with one bare hand as she punched at him at the same time, and I took that as my que. I jumped down, smoothly shooting across the alley from the roof I had been on to land in front of her, kicking her hand that was aimed at the wall away. Matt dodged her other fist.

"Little Snake," she cooed overly sweetly even though her wrist was at least sprained because of my kick. Or at least, it should have been, but she was wearing a bracelet. It looked as if it was only made of cords like a friendship bracelet, but I knew from experience never to take things at face value with her.

"Boa?" Matt hissed softly, standing at the ready but staying still and letting me take the lead. "You know her?"

"Oh please, Daredevil," the woman scoffed. "I helped train Little Snake."

Matt tensed slightly, and I took a slow breath.

"Do you not have a knife on you? Or a gun? You're not following the rules, Hebi," the woman tutted even as I lunged in, using a mixture of my own techniques and Matt's— I got in a few glancing blows, but most of them missed as she easily dodged and twisted around the alleyway. Matt had almost instantly joined me, but we were both blind for a minute as we fought without thinking.

She was able to brush the wall with her fingertips.

I saw it just as I swept my leg at her ankles, which she jumped over easily, and knew I wouldn't make it in time. Eyes wide behind my yellow lenses, I shot my head over to Matt and pushed him away by the chest. Not expecting me to touch him, he stumbled back just enough.

The brick of the wall suddenly acted like dough, stretching out from the wall and flying across the narrow alley to create a new dead end. As a result of using material of the wall, it was now open and the couple living inside screamed and fled at the sudden hole in their apartment and the two Powered strangers on the other side.

I was separated from Matt, but perhaps that was a good thing.

"I always tell you," she cooed. "Never walk around without a weapon," a large turkey feather appeared in her hand and I lunged forward, aiming for her wrist. She just barely twisted away in time, lashing at me with what should have been a soft craft item.

It sliced my cheek open as easily as if my skin were butter. Narrowing my eyes, I jumped in the air and twisted, sending one foot at her neck and the other at her wrist. Knowing my basic abilities, she decided to save her more vulnerable throat and hurtle out of my trajectory. Keeping the smirk off my face, I slammed my upper body down in the air and wrapped my hand around her wrist. She had dodged my feet, but had walked right into my arm's strike range instead.

I wasted no time squeezing, breaking her wrist and causing the bracelet around it to warp. As I had thought, it crinkled like metal instead of cord.

Unlike the Absorbing Man that Spider-Man was occasionally seen taking down, this was the opposite. This woman was a mercenary of a special degree, whimsical and unbound. Did anything and everything she wanted, took almost any job.

Because unlike the Absorbing Man, she gave things other properties. She couldn't change their chemical properties, which was something I had found out years earlier to my immense relief, but she could warp the physical attributes of any non-living thing she touched. Like how she had turned the wall into a sheet of clay and sent it flying and sticking to the opposite side of the alley to make a new dead end.

Like she had done to the feather, which had the edge of a razor.

And to her bracelet, which she had made as stiff and strong as steel.

She groaned at the pain of broken bones, but landed a hard knee in my gut. Huffing in pain, I let go and slid back a couple feet before going right back at it.

We traded blows evenly, my fist to her arm, her fist to my shoulder. Every hit bruised, no matter who gave or got it. I ignored the blood trickling down my face, getting in as close as I could before springing up and twisting around her.

But one of her arms escaped my coiled body, slamming into my face. Like trying to get a shark to release it's jaw, she pounded away at my eye and nose no matter how I repositioned my face. With her head, her elbow, her fist, she attacked my head.

Finally I ended up relaxing my coil without realizing it, just enough for her to slip away and drag her fingers across the ground around my feet.

Matt found me by coming in through another entrance, with blood pouring down my chin, one eye swelling up, and me trying to lift my feet out of a ground the texture of quicksand.

He had to pull me out, and took me straight to Claire's.

"I should have killed her, I'm sorry," I whispered, glaring down at my legs with my one good eye as Claire dabbed my face with antiseptic wipes. "I had her in my coil, and I was trying to just choke her until she passed out like I usually do. But she's trained to resist until she can't anymore," I breathed heavily through my bruised nose. "Not killing is hard."

"I'm proud of you," Matt argued, sitting at the other side of the sofa with my legs over his lap. He patted my knee. "You were perfectly capable of killing her, and she was one of the assholes that helped make your childhood a living hell. If I had been in the same situation, I'm not sure I would have been able to rein in my anger well enough to avoid putting her in a coma," his hand squeezed my knee gently. "Never apologize for not killing someone, ever again," he whispered firmly, eyebrows furrowed and his face no longer gentle as he tried to glare his words into me sightlessly. "Never, you understand? You want to move away from your past, not killing is a good thing."

"But she got away, and now more people might get killed because of her," I protested, feeling beaten. I hadn't done so badly in a fight like that since I had escaped Dryad, and it was dragging at my confidence.

"We'll catch her," he assured firmly. "You're alive and you didn't regress by killing. That's a good outcome," he tilted his head with a rueful smile. "I'd prefer if we had won, of course, but I hadn't been prepared for her abilities and that's just how it goes sometimes. It's not your fault."

I grunted, knowing despite his words that he was just as frustrated and angry about her escape as I was. After leaving me with the apartment robbers, Matt had run into her after she had completed an assassination and that was why they had been fighting. We had let that guy's murderer slip through our fingers, and it was dragging at both of us.

"Yeah. We'll catch her," I agreed softly, before going quiet and focusing on the feeling of Claire patching me up.

—*—*—*—*—*

"Okay, what the hell happened to you?" Peter asked the next day at school, eyes worried as he looked over me. Since I had visited his house the month before, we had grown a bit closer as friends. I hadn't gone over since then, but with my shed cycle having passed the week before I wondered if I should ask to visit again. I needed some craziness to cheer me up after the disaster the previous night.

"Jerks tried to mug me," I lied. "Three of them. These," I pointed to my injuries, "Were lucky shots. But they managed to get away, and I'm pissed off now," I grunted, my mood still very poor. Ned shook his head, looking over my injuries with worried eyes.

"Man, that sucks. But I guess it's the risk of living in Hell's Kitchen. Daredevil didn't come?"

I huffed. "There was a house robbery going on a couple blocks away, he and Boa were getting those guys when I was mugged, but they found me not long after the guys ran off. Walked me home," I told them smoothly. I rubbed my forehead, carefully avoiding my black eye. "Not even heroes can get everything or save everyone. That's why I fight, so I can save myself."

"I can respect that," MJ said with an appreciative nod. "That training probably saved your life last night. But next time you get hurt, call us," the girl ordered firmly. "I don't know about these other two losers, but I don't like getting surprised in the morning with one of my friends looking beat up."

Peter nodded, eyes strangely serious as he met my gaze strongly. "Besides, we can help. Next time, someone can pick you up and Bruce can look over you. In fact," he picked my phone up off of the table, ignoring my protests as I leaped forward to try and grab it back. He skipped out of my range, flipping through the contacts before choosing the right one and hitting call.

"Hey, Mister Murdock. No, Hebi is fine, besides her black eye. She didn't tell you?" He glared at me, and I rose my hands in surrender. "She said she was mugged, Daredevil and Boa arrived just a little too late and walked her home. Yeah, I'll scold her for you. Can I take her to the Tower after school? Bruce is good at treating injuries, I want him to look her over. Yeah? Awesome! Thank you so much, Mister Murdock!"

I glared at my scrawny friend scathingly as he cheerfully handed me my phone back. I snatched it away, shoving it into my pocket and shoving a bite of food into my mouth. I had fielded all of their questions until lunch, but they had cornered me once we got to the table and I had been forced to give them something.

Guess I was visiting the Tower, after all.

"So," Peter said as he plopped back down. "Your dad told me to tell you that you shouldn't keep important information from him like a black eye, that you should be more careful at night, and that he's gonna have a talk with you about trusting strangers even if they're vigilantes," Peter tilted his head at that last one. "Though, I don't think there's a problem with the vigilante part, but maybe he knows something I don't," he shrugged.

I sighed, and smiled lopsidedly at him. Claire had taken care of initial treatment, but it wasn't like getting looked over by Bruce for normal injuries was going to rat me out or anything.

The bell rang, and I packed my mostly empty lunch box away, getting up with my friends.

"Thanks, Pete. I'm honestly fine," I held up a hand to keep him from protesting. "But I will let Bruce look me over anyway, since you're so worried. But you come to school with bruises and scrapes all the time, so what's the difference?"

"His is from training with his family and yours is from people trying to kill you?" MJ asked, raising an eyebrow. I blinked, and then nodded.

"Yeah, okay that's a good point," I conceded. Pete has been a bit twitchy at my question, but had calmed down almost as soon as MJ had answered for him.

Not a puzzle. Not a puzzle. Not a puzzle, I repeated to myself stubbornly. If Peter didn't want to tell me what was up, I'd respect that.

"Oh, ouch!" Flash's very unsympathetic voice said in mock worry as the guy walked in front of us, turning around and walking backwards so he could look at us as he spoke. "What happened, Teal? I thought you were some badass martial artist," he made a few fake punches in the air to mock me. I was decidedly unimpressed.

"And I thought this school only let in geniuses, but your ever constant presence proves me wrong," I droned right back, making the boy stiffen and sneer. "There's always someone stronger than you, Flash, no matter how long you train in something. Remember that before you get hurt," I advised him, and he scoffed. He didn't have his next class with us, so he tried to push past me to head in the opposite direction.

Fueled with sudden pettiness, I twitched by foot just slightly to the side, which made his trip. He didn't fall, but he stumbled and had to pinwheel his arms to keep his balance. MJ and Ned chuckled, but Peter sent a very disappointed look at the side of my face as we walked into our classroom.

"That wasn't right, Hebi," he scolded gently. "You're better than that."

I looked over at him, and into his warm brown eyes. If only he knew. Something cold settled in my gut as I thought about what would happen if he did know. Peter was innocent, pure. A fucking genius and righteous and funny and mentally strong, but innocent and with morals that were stronger than most people's willpower. There was no way he'd willingly stay friends with an assassin, a murderer, like me. Not if he knew how much blood was on my hands.

"... Maybe I'm not," I muttered back, forcing my eyes to be blank in case any emotion had seeped into them. I sat down, but didn't reply to any of Peter's questions about what I meant.

A few hours later, and everything was back to normal. Peter had eventually changed the topic and we pretended our little awkward moment hadn't ever happened. Apparently Peter had texted somebody when I wasn't paying attention, because Colonel Rhodes was waiting leaned against a sleek black car while scrolling through his phone, and he looked up with a smile when he saw both me and Peter walk over.

"Hello. I was told you were coming over today to have Bruce look at something, and now I know what," he remarked, looking over the scabbed cut on my cheek and my puffy black eye. "You know, if you need help with self defense I'm sure Nat or Clint would be okay with training you. Hell, even Steve or Bucky— or really anyone."

He stepped into the passenger's seat, his braces whirring slightly. Yet another strong ass human being, pushing through tragedy to keep being a badass. That was why I loved the Avengers, they were strong in a way I couldn't be.

I smiled, getting in the back with Peter. Sure enough, Happy was in the Driver's seat and started driving us away almost immediately.

I thought about Rhodey's question, and mentally scoffed. Even if I had needed help, Natasha wouldn't provide it. Sure, she had chuckled at me a couple times when I had visited the Tower last, but she had never once let her guard down and had barely said a sentence to me the whole time.

Yeah, she still didn't trust me for fucking sure. Maybe she didn't like me, either, I couldn't tell.

Considering that Rhodey hadn't had the chance to talk to me last time since he had had to leave the Tower before dinner the last time I visited, I took the chance for what it was and decided to start a conversation with the approachable man.

"No thanks, it wasn't for lack of skill trust me. I was outnumbered and caught off guard, that's all. But I managed to rough them up bad enough for them to run off, and I kept all my money, so I consider it a win," I told him, sticking with my three-men-failed-mugging-me story.

Rhodey made a brief humming sound in thought. "Still, you got lucky," he said, turning to face me. "What'd they have, knives by the look of you? What if they—"

"No," I interrupted, waving a hand. "Only two of the guys had knives. The last one had a gun but I disarmed him first," I corrected the man with another easy lie. His eyes went wide, and he stared at me.

Mentally I knew it sounded maybe slightly too impressive, despite the situation I described being easy as fuck by then for me to deal with (Matt's crowd control training was no joke). But I wanted to make it clear that I could handle myself, I didn't need World's Mightiest Heroes coddling me or thinking that I was someone who needed protection.

"You didn't think the gun was important to mention?!" Peter asked, eyes wide and worried. "Things could have gone so badly, Hebi!"

"Pete," I said softly. "Stop worrying. I'm fine—"

"But you might not have been!"

"Peter, I don't," I furrowed my eyebrows, not sure why he was acting so panicked. "I don't understand, I just told you I took care of it. The gun was taken care of, I just got a couple superifical wounds, I'm fine."

"But you could have died!" He insisted hotly. "You made it sound like it had just been three thugs and one maybe got a lucky hit with a knife or piece of sharp glass or something, not three armed guys. You could have been pinned and robbed and shot, you could have been bleeding out in some dingy alley and I would have found you and held you—"

Oh.

Oh.

Shit.

"Oh my god," I whispered, eyes wide as I stared at him. Knowing he was a tactile person, I gently laid a hand in his shoulder. He relaxed into my touch. "Hey. I'm okay. Look at me," I ordered firmly, making him meet my eyes. "I'm fine. Look, I've got a few bruises on my shoulder and torso, I have a black eye, and one slice on my cheek," I catalogued for him calmly. "I'm alive, look," I took his hand and pressed it against my wrist. He relaxed further at the feel of my heartbeat. His breathing slowed, and he calmed down.

He let out a deep sigh, and slumped backwards into the car seat. He looked over at me, his eyes suddenly tired.

"Thanks," he said softly. I just smiled and nodded.

"Wow," Happy said from the front seat, eyebrows high. "How'd you know what to do?"

I grimaced, sitting back like Peter. "My dad has episodes like that sometimes, too," I admitted, looking out the window. "When he was nine, his dad was murdered. He was the one that heard the gunshot and found the body," I confided in them. "He was already blind by then, but it doesn't help, you know? Instead of seeing memories of blood, he feels it and it's hard to get him to calm down. But the heartbeat trick works pretty well," I took a sharp breath, and spun to glare at everyone. "But if any of you tell him I told you about that, I'm denying it and accusing you of snooping."

Rhodey held up a hand in surrender, but was smiling softly. "We won't tattle, right boys?" Both other men shook their heads obediently. "I'm glad Pete has a friend like you, Hebi. Ned and Michelle are nice and all, but they don't know how to see the little things like that. How to deal with the panic attacks," he glanced over to Peter before meeting my eyes again. "It's good to know you can help him like that."

We got to the Tower, but Peter tapped my shoulder and stopped me before we got in the elevator. He pulled me aside, looking sheepish.

"Hey," he started softly, looking up into my eyes. I saw his vulnerability there, and knew instantly that whatever he said couldn't be met with a joke or anything. He needed me to be sincere for a moment, so I decided to do my best. "Thanks. Not just for calming me down but for, for not asking. About who, you know…" he trailed off, but I got the gist.

I patted his shoulder easily, smiling. "No worries about it, nerd," I said cheerfully, though I made sure I kept my face open so he could see I was being genuine. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen. But I'll never push."

Peter gave me a thankful smile. I turned, thinking that was it, but he grabbed my wrist gently. I blinked, spinning around in shock at the sudden contact. Seeing my reaction, he instantly pulled his hand away and held both palms up to show he wasn't going to hurt me and didn't mean any harm. I let out a sigh, rubbing my forehead and calming down.

"Sorry," he said instantly, frowning. "But I wanted to also thank you for going out of your comfort zone there to help me out. I know you don't like being touched, but you still…"

Oh right, I had let him feel my pulse point and had squeezed his shoulder. It was just little things, minor contact, but I guess he appreciated it more than I thought. I shook my head, smirking.

"Don't mention it, I have a badass reputation to keep up."

Peter chuckled at that, and we finally went into the elevator were Rhodey had been patiently waiting for us while scrolling through his phone.

"Hello again, Miss Hebi. Doctor Banner is waiting for you in the med bay, would you like to go up to him?"

I glanced briefly at the two men in the elevator with me, and after receiving nods I looked up and nodded myself. "What would be great, thanks FRIDAY."

"Sure thing."

We had just received a group project in Chemistry, which I had been paired up with Peter for, so the ride wasn't silent as we talked about ideas. I had expected him to pair up with Ned, but MJ had claimed Ned as her partner, and the other boy had went along with it easily so Peter and I had ended up partners instead.

Yeah, Pete and I both knew that our friends were trying to push us together. They weren't even trying to be subtle about it, and they never apologized when it was brought up.

Still, neither of us really cared since we were pretty equally advanced in chemistry and already had plans in the works to blow the rest of the class out of the water.

"Do you think we can take advantage of cell regeneration?" I asked, tilting my head even as we walked into the med bay. It was still fairly early in the year, so the project was a simple task of showing a chemical reaction, but making the display unique or giving the reaction a creative spin. "If we create an artificial heart or something, we can show the reaction of different venoms or poisons on blood. But I want an artificial organic skin around the blood, I don't just want an old fashioned test tube visual," I stuck out my tongue. He nodded with a grimace.

"Yeah that would be boring. I like the venom idea though, think we can coax samples of skin into regenerating and staying alive in time?" Between the two of us, there was no question of being able to do it or not, just how long it would take. Since what we were doing was brand fucking new, it could take years in theory.

I shrugged, sitting on the cot that was set out for me as Doctor Banner walked over and effectively cut our discussion short. The kind man looked over my wounds professionally, turning my head this way and that to get the best angle for observing the swelling and scabbing of my two injuries.

He let loose a low whistle after a minute, leaning back. "That's a nice shiner," he said with a frown, worry swimming in his eyes. "Peter didn't tell Tony anything other than the fact that you were hurt and he was forcing you to come over and get looked at, so…"

I huffed a breathy laugh, getting the hint and beginning to tell the now-familiar story about the nonexistent three criminals and their fake attempt to mug me.

"You're lucky that you weren't hurt worse. Do you want pain meds? There really isn't anything else I can do, everything is healing up nicely. The cut isn't deep so it shouldn't scar, and should be gone in a week or two. The black eye will deal with itself too, so you'll just have to deal with a few days of pain as the swelling goes down. You don't have a concussion, so that's good. You already disinfected the cut, right?," the scientist smiled down at me after I nodded in confirmation to his last question. "All in all, these are the most minor injuries I've dealt with this year. Thank you for not being a troublesome idiot like the heroes that live here."

I laughed at that. "Glad to not cause you extra stress," I joked. "I don't need to take any medicine home, but can I get a Tylenol for now? Or whatever low dose of pain pills you have," I asked. "My metabolism isn't very fast, so I only need a very small dose."

If I had turned my metabolism down to eighty percent of its normal speed so that I didn't have to use very much medication for my symptoms, nobody needed to know.

Bruce's eyebrows rose, and he smiled again. "Really?" He turned and shuffled through some bottles. "You have no idea how relieving that is. I already have to deal with too many idiots that need custom medications because of their enhanced metabolisms, so you are a wonderful change of pace," he said happily before plopping a single red pill into my palm. He double checked the bottle's dosage just in case, nodded to himself, and handed me a bottle of water. "There you go."

"See?" I said smugly to Peter, who had been waiting in a chair slightly off to the side. "Told you I was fine."

The other teen rolled his eyes, but grinned. "Yeah, yeah," he dismissed. "But I worry about my friends, so I'm not apologizing," he said firmly, and stood up after I downed my pill with a swig of water.

"Thank you, Doctor Banner," I said honestly, and he waved me off.

"Just be careful from now on, and try not to walk through Hell's Kitchen after dark. I don't need an extra person to constantly worry about," he said kindly. "I'll be in my lab now if you need me again."

I nodded, and turned to Peter as Bruce walked out of the room.

"Wellllll," he drawled, rocking back on his heels. "You're already here, so do you want to get a head start on our project?"

I snorted at him, and nodded. "Sure, why not? We have a lot of planning ahead of us if we want to make everyone else feel like a dunce!" I joked. Peter burst into laughter, pinning me with a jokingly disappointed look.

"Hebi that's totally not the plan," he said, trying very hard to keep his voice level. "Just an unfortunate side effect of us working together."

It was my turn to laugh.

"Come on," he said next as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. I picked my own up from the ground, slinging it onto my back as he spoke "We can start hashing everything out in my room. How will we get ahold of venom samples? We're gonna need permission to bring some to the school for presentation too, but I think Dad can handle that," he said, thinking out loud. I nodded, walking by his side as we made our way into the elevator again.

"We can start with something mild like bee venom or something," I suggested. "If we want a really dramatic reaction though, I have some connections at the Veterinary college," who had been all too happy to send samples of snake blood to me after hearing I was from Midtown. "I can probably get samples of snake or spider venom from them or something. What do you think, rattlesnakes are native to New York, right?" Peter smiled widely, nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah!" He agreed. "And we should totally test Black Widow venom too, just to reference Aunt Nat," he suggested.

"What about me?" The red headed assassin asked we walked into the common room, where she was sitting at a stool at the kitchen counter drinking something from a mug. My lips twitched; it was a cup of my tea, the Danger and Spice blend that I had given them the previous month along with the Meditation flavor. I met her gaze, and I knew my eyes were filled with amusement. Since she probably knew I could identify what she was drinking, she narrowed her eyes and took a long, defiant sip from the mug without looking away.

Maybe she did like me.

"Oh! We were thinking of testing the effects of venom on blood for a school project," Peter explained. "I was just telling Hebi that we should test Black Widow venom as a reference to you."

"Oh? You don't have to do that, but if you do make sure the project is awesome," she told him with a grin. Peter laughed, and turned to me.

"I'm gonna put my stuff away real quick, okay? I'll be right back!" He ran off to his room, and movement from Natasha caught my gaze. She lifted her hands up.

"Sticking with what you know, huh?" She signed. I frowned, knowing she was probably doing it to avoid any chance of Peter overhearing us.

Still, I guess I was wrong. She still didn't like me.

"Trying to fix what I was taught," I responded in sign stubbornly, not backing down. "If our project works, it can help scientists test and improve antivenin and poison antidotes."

The other woman blinked at that, and took a sip of her tea. Maybe I had caught her off guard with my answer, despite the lack of emotion on her face.

Good.

That's as when Hawkeye walked in, just in from a mission judging by the scent of sweat coming off of him and the way he was slightly scuffed up and dusty. He tossed his bow and quiver onto the coffee table, and looked over at me. His eyebrows rose immediately at the sight of my injuries. He whistled.

"Wow, that's a pretty blue," he remarked sarcastically, examining my black eye without actually getting close to me. "What happened?"

I turned my head, hearing Peter coming back out form his room. I turned so my back was to the hallway he had went down, and spoke and signed at the same time.

"Three idiots tried to mug me. I scared them off, but not before they got in a few lucky hits," I said out loud. Old teacher, I signed at the same time, making both other assassin's eye's widen slightly. Clint frowned, eyebrows furrowing after a second. "They got away, which pisses me off. But I'm fine, so I guess I shouldn't complain."

I didn't need to sign along with that one, knowing they'd get what I meant. My old teacher was still at large. They traded glances.

"Hey Hebi!" Peter called out, sticking his head around the corner. "I got everything set up for us to plan, you wanna start? If we work in the living room I'll just get distracted by the TV."

I nodded at him, swinging my backpack off and tossing it to him. He didn't fumble it like usual, catching it easily even though he seemed surprised by my sudden action. I frowned but stubbornly pushed my thoughts away from trying to decipher what it meant.

"Yeah, I'll be right there. I'm gonna get something to drink real fast, that okay?"

Peter nodded, eyes widening. "Oh yeah! I totally didn't think to ask if you wanted anything. You can take anything you want in the fridge—"

"Except the beer," Clint quipped instantly, making both me and Peter roll our eyes.

"—I'll put your bag in the room for you. Come in when you're ready to start brainstorming!" He turned and went back in, making me turn to Hawkeye and Black Widow again. Deciding to carry through with my excuse, I went and opened the fridge to look for something to drink.

"Need help with self defense?" Natasha asked with a carefully casual tone. I looked back at her, and saw what she actually meant in her eyes. Do we need to be on alert? I shook my head, turning to sign;

"Me and Daredevil will handle it," I signed, pausing only to grab a coke and close the fridge. "Nah, I'm not helpless," I responded out loud. "But she knows who I am, so keep an eye on the school."

Clint nodded at that, and I knew he and Natasha would do just that out of concern for Peter's safety if nothing else. Nodding, I waved at them with one hand and went to join Peter.

"Thanks though, but I better go help Peter out now. See you later," I said as I left. Clint gave me a cheery farewell, while Natasha just sipped from her tea.

—*—*—*—*—*

Peter swung through the streets two night later, thinking idly about his and Hebi's project as he scanned for criminals. The project was due in two weeks, and they got a few work days in class so it wasn't completely done after school, and the two of them were making pretty good progress. He had known she had had a good grasp of chemistry, but it wasn't until he actually started brainstorming with her that he realized just how naturally it came to her.

It was pretty awesome, really, to have someone else who understood what it was like for it to just click. To understand how it felt for reactions and equations and outcomes to easily work themselves out mentally, and open up so many routes for new possibilities. New compounds, new reactions, those possibilities just popped in his head from the mixing of his other knowledge and Hebi understood that.

It was a really nice change of pace.

He knew he wasn't completely alone in that before Hebi. Tony knew that feeling with mechanics, and Ned with coding, and MJ with psychology. Bruce had admitted to having the same feeling with Chemistry, but the age difference made it hard for Peter to actually feel understood. With Hebi, it was easy, not only did she get Chemistry like him, but biology too. Both of those were his own specialties, though he was also extremely good at mechanics… which Hebi was still really bad at. She was getting better, but she was still bad.

They had managed to theorize a way to grow a graft of skin around a mold and pump blood through it to keep it alive, making a type of "living" model to demonstrate with, and were in the design phase. Peter dropped down when Karen's voice in his ear told him of a couple being held at gunpoint, and he dropped down out of habit.

There were too people, a woman with short navy blue hair, and a man with a suspiciously military-looking gun. Peter didn't even bother looking at who they were targeting, shooting web over the opening of the gun.

"That's dangerous, you should get a new toy," he quipped, tugging the gun away and tossing it down the alleyway before lunging in and punching the man in the gut. When the guy was out, he webbed him up snugly and turned as he saw the blue haired lady trying to kick Hebi.

Wait, Hebi?

Hebi?

H e b i?

He watched for a stunned second as his friend deflected the kick, catching the leg by the knee and shifting her weight to toss the woman over her shoulder. The mysterious lady rolled, and barely dodged the glob of webbing that Peter had shot at her once he snapped out of his shock. Seeing the hero in the alley, she ran.

Peter raised a wrist to shoot a web up and follow her, but he was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Thank you," Hebi said, looking over at him. "I'm usually good at protecting myself, but my dad was here today," she jerked her head back and Peter saw with another flash of shock that Matthew Murdock was indeed there, standing against the wall of the alley. It didn't look like he was hurt, Hebi had probably pushed him back to protect him.

"Uh yeah," Peter answered, suddenly making a conscious effort to lower his voice. "No problem. Hey, I've met you before right? Try not to attract so much danger, random stranger. I have to go now or I won't be able to catch that woman," he rambled. He saw Matt slump over, which Peter had assumed was in order for the man to calm down and catch his breath after the stressful event.

In reality, Matt had recognized the boy's voice and had ducked his head to hide his struggle against laughter. The poor teen was horrible at disguising his voice and his attempt at casual conversation was absolutely hilarious. It was all he could do to restrain himself to smiling widely with his head ducked out of Peter's view.

"No!" Hebi said suddenly, startling Peter. "Stay here, I need to calm down my dad and I can't keep an eye out for anyone else if I'm doing that. Can you make sure nobody else comes to attack us while I do that?" She asked, her voice calming down significantly after her initial refusal to let Spider-Man chase the woman who had assaulted her.

Peter frowned under his mask, but nodded.

"Sure," he agreed, hoping his reluctance didn't seep through.

Hebi walked over to her Dad, pretending to get him to look at her and take deep breaths… which she actually did do, but not to get him to calm down out of panic. It was to get him to not laugh. Hebi even pinched him in annoyance on the arm.

"I called the cops for you, so I'll stay here until they arrive okay?" Peter told them, taking a couple steps over and speaking as reassuringly as he could. Hebi nodded and shot him a thankful smile before turning back to her dad.

"Hey Dad, is it okay if I leave you with the cops and call Foggy to get you?" She asked, making Matt stiffen since it was the first time she had actually used the title when talking directly to him. She ignored his reaction and continued; "I just remembered I forgot a pair of my sunglasses at the Tower, and I want to go pick them up. Besides, Pete told me to tell him the next time something like this happened. With it being so soon after the last attack, I figured he'd prefer if I told him right away," she said.

Peter stiffened immediately, eye's (Both real ones and the mask's) widened in shock.

Hebi didn't leave any sunglasses at the Tower. She had never even brought any to the Tower.

He turned his head, and saw Hebi staring at him all too knowingly.

Ah, shit.

—*—*—*—*—*

Hebi handed Matt off to the cops after making her own statement, asking them to take him to the station so a friend could pick him up. She had already told them everything they needed, and said she needed to go do something. Matt vouched for her, saying she needed to go visit friends of her own to inform them about what happened and that they'd prefer that to happen in person.

So that led to Hebi marching down to the Tower, the very picture of a woman on a mission. At first she had felt shocked, and then betrayed, when she had taken a taste of the air and recognized Peter's scent coming from Spider-Man. But as she walked, her steps got softer and the betrayal bled away into understanding. She was never mad, maybe a little hurt but not mad, and as she made the walk all the pieces snapped into place.

All the clues she had so steadfastly ignored over the two months of knowing Peter floated to the surface, suddenly connecting into an obvious picture. A picture she had chosen not to see, but could no longer ignore.

After her second visit, Hebi had gotten a visitor pass so that she could enter the Tower and pass security whenever she wanted. So she used it to walk through the front entrance, and scanned it once she passed the metal detectors.

"Hebi Teal," Friday's voice said warmly(?). Hebi had made sure Tony had put her in the public system as just Teal instead of Teal-Murdock for security reasons. "Clearance level four. Welcome back, Hebi. Peter is expecting you."

Of course he is, she had purposely given a lie that he would immediately catch so that he would know that she wanted to talk to him.

"Thanks Friday, take me up."

"Sure thing, Miss Hebi."

Hebi walked out into the common room, immediately seeing Peter pacing in the living room surrounded by a couple Avengers. Nat, Clint, Tony, and Steve. Peter was still in the suit, without the mask.

Hebi sighed at the sight, rubbing her forehead and walking over. She got within two feet, and looked across into his eyes for a moment as he fidgeted under her silence. They were exactly the same height, something Hebi had noted before but shoved to the back of her mind. She grinned at him.

"You are horrible at keep secrets you know. You are damn lucky I didn't want to be invasive and ignored all of the glaringly obvious clues that I've put together now. The way you choke every time I joke about or mention spider-Man, the way Ned can't help but glance at you every time he comes up in conversation, the way your reflexes randomly seem to sharpen," Hebi shook her head in mock disappointment. "I tried so hard not to notice Pete, you have no idea, but hearing your voice while you were in the suit was the nail in your secret's coffin."

Peter blinked owlishly. "You're… not mad?"

It was Hebi's turn to blink, and she raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Mad? No," she said honestly. "I was a bit hurt for a minute when I thought about you not trusting me, but that was probably just because of the shock of everything. I understand needing to keep it a secret," she shrugged. "The more people that know, the more who are in danger right? Makes sense. But I can take care of myself, so don't worry about me," she told him stubbornly, poking a finger at his chest above the spider emblem. It looked suspiciously like a button, so she avoided hitting it directly just in case it wasn't fingerprint coded… which is probably was, if Tony made it.

Peter was staring at her with wide eyes, and the room was silent. Then Tony laughed.

"Perfect!" He said, sitting up. "Told you there was nothing to worry about, Pete. She's a keeper."

"We're not dating," Peter protested weakly, even as Hebi snorted at Tony's remark. She flipped her head back so that her bangs flopped back dramatically, and put a hand on her hip.

"I am definitely a keeper, thanks for noticing," she joked, making Tony and Steve laugh.

"Well Hebi, you're officially in on the big secret," Steve said with a smile. The smile faded at his next lien: "I'm sure you know already, but you can't tell anyone about Peter's identity. It's too dangerous."

Hebi met his gaze seriously for a moment before looking away and waving her hand in dismissal.

"Obviously," she agreed. "Don't worry, I'm way better at keeping a secret than Peter."

Natasha snorted, and Clint carefully kept his face blank. That was true, most of the Avengers were still clueless. Natasha and Clint stayed silent, enjoying the dramatic irony.

"Anyone's better at it than Peter," Clint said cheerily, earning a glare from the young vigilante.

Hebi sighed, making a face. "Actually, Matt's just as bad," she said, her tone one of long suffering and despair. "He's a badass in court, but he stutters and twitches whenever he has to lie. It's hard to watch."

He had been getting a little better, but was still only passable when Hebi was there to help him and had coached him for a specific lie. He still couldn't ad-lib a lie to save his life.

"Cool. So, if I agree to let you guys train me, can I be unofficial backup?" Hebi asked smoothly, crossing her arms and staring steadily back at all the heroes she had just shocked.

"I'm sorry, what?" Peter asked, voice cracking. "No way, you attract way too much danger as it is. This is the second time you've been attacked this week—"

"Yeah? And how many injuries do I have?" She asked, and he snapped his mouth shut. She nodded. "In fact, how many visible injuries have I had out of all three times you've seen me after being attacked?"

His jaw worked for a minute, and he clenched it.

"Just your bruising, black eye, and cut from the mugging two days ago," Steve answered softly for the younger man, mouth taut in a frown but eyes thoughtful. He looked over at Tony with a raised brow, the billionaire staring hard at Hebi and tapping his foot as he thought.

Hebi waited.

"I don't see anything wrong with it," Clint spoke up slowly, making sure he came off reluctant to make sure nobody got suspicious. In reality, he was glad that Hebi would have Peter's back. He knew she could really come in handy if Pete was ever in a tough spot and the rest of them couldn't get there in time. "She already has fighting experience, right? And it's not like powers are necessary for crime fighting," he gestured to himself and Nat to make his point. "We'll make sure she's up to our standards, and keep her as strictly emergency aid for Peter if we can't make it."

Tony's frown deepened.

"I won't be a vigilante," Hebi interjected, not about to force herself to juggle two costumes and alternate identities. "But if Peter is nearby and needs my help, I'll be able to fight or focus on rescue so that he can focus on whatever is most important at the time."

"Hebi…" Peter said softly, eyes still wide. "You don't…"

"I worry about my friends," she shot right back, repeating the words he had said to her earlier that week right back at him. "Any argument you make against my choice will be met with stubbornness the likes of which not even you have ever seen before. And very many claims of you being a hypocrite, which you would be."

Tony sighed, getting both teens to look over at him. He pinned her with a hard stare.

"There will be ground rules," he said slowly. "One: you will not be fighting anyone Enhanced, you will contact us immediately if Peter needs help with someone Enhanced, got it?" She nodded. "Two: the second you get hurt worse than a superficial cut or bruise, you're out. You back up and let us take over, got it?" She frowned, but nodded again. She could always play it by ear and defy that rule if she thought it necessary. "Three: you won't help at all until Clint, Natasha, and Bucky clear you. Or Steve, if he wants to help you train too," he waved to the present supersoldier nonchalantly. "Got it?"

Hebi grinned, nodding one last time. "I knew you'd see it my way. I'll tell my dad you guys offered to help me improve my self defense, and I won't mention Spider-Man to him," she offered, though it was a half-lie. She wouldn't mention Spider-Man, because she already knew she didn't have to, Matt already figured it out himself. He'd understand her choice.

Steve smiles a bit reluctantly, stand up and holding out a hand for her to shake.

"It's a deal then," the blonde agreed. "From one stubborn brat to another, welcome to the team."

—*—*—*—*—*

Muahahahahaha