"We don't usually do this for Pete's patrols, but considering yesterday was a big fight and your first time helping out, we decided to review the footage from your helmet and Pete's mask to have an official debrief," Steve was saying. I rose my eyebrow, looking around the common room we were sitting in like it was any other visit. It made him chuckle. "Okay, mostly official. Just to see where we can improve on how you guys cooperate. You two are essentially a team now, after all."
"An emergency only team," Tony reiterated firmly.
I looked over at Clint, who winked. Something tense inside me relaxed— he and Nat must have edited out the part of me moving the beam out of the way. That was a relief.
"We just trimmed it down to the essential parts, for time's sake," Bucky assured me gently. I held back a grin, sighing in playful relief instead.
"Oh good because that was the longest twenty minutes of my life, and I rather not watch myself flounder around cluelessly for the whole time all over again," I joked.
"What, you've never rescued ten people from a burning building before?" Tony joked, earning a deadpan glare from me.
"I already told you that you did good!" Peter assured me for the millionth time. I rolled my eyes with a small grin.
Rhodey cleared his throat, giving us both meaningful looks. Peter ducked his head in embarrassment, but I just stuck my tongue out immaturely. "Anyway," the colonel said pointedly, ignoring me. "Let's start with the beginning of Pete's fight, FRIDAY. Might as well critique his entire fight while we're here."
Peter sat up, paying just as much attention as the rest of us as the video started to play as a hologram in front of us.
"Yo, wacko! What's with the extra arms?" Peter's voice came through from behind the camera, since his mask was the thing filming. I glanced over at him, making sure he saw my unimpressed look. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Are you a cosplayer? Because if you're going for Squidward, you're way off!"
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a snort. Oh boy.
"I pulled some video from cameras on the street too, for a better look," Tony told them as the perspective changed, and we were able to see Spider-Man dodging the man's four mechanical arms, and landing a few strong hits that didn't do as much damage as they should have. I figured it was because of the metal harness around the guy's chest.
The guy that Peter eventually named Doctor Octopus in the fight. I tilted my head, tossing the name in my head.
"It fits," I complimented, nodding. Peter snorted, and smiled at me widely.
"I know, right!"
They were shushed, and we resumed watching the fight until it got to the part where Doc Oc shoved them both through the building, and Peter called me. They decided to skip through some of Peter's fight to review most of my rescue, and me and Peter's teamwork. They froze the frame right after Peter threw me in the air, right when I landed a kick on Doc Oc's face.
"That," Sam pointed to the frame, "Is hilarious."
"And surprisingly good teamwork for their first time working together," Wanda spoke up. "Peter barely hesitated on throwing her, and Hebi didn't hesitate in trusting him to do it right."
I blinked. "I didn't, did I?" I asked out loud, actually surprised when I thought back on that. I usually didn't trust that easily, and I really had never seen Peter deal with anything that big before. Why had I just trusted him to throw me up several stories? That was… uncharacteristic. I didn't just trust someone to touch me or have power over me like that, and a throw that high had a lot of risk involved.
So why had I trusted Peter to do it without a second thought.
Everyone saw me suddenly deep in thought, and Natasha was the one that suggested they continue watching and leave me to think. So they did.
I could feel eyes on me as I pondered why I seemed to trust Peter so much, even subconsciously. It just wasn't normal. It wasn't me. I trusted Matt, truly trusted him, only after a month of living with him. Even then, I wouldn't trust him to throw me several stories...mostly because I had no idea how good his aim was over long distances and he was still blind. And now that I thought about it, Peter got away with a lot that others didn't get away with. During my first shed at school, he had touched my shoulder and I had only relaxed instead of freaked like I did with everyone else. I found myself with my guard down around him, saying truthful things I would never say to anyone else except maybe Matt. Even then, it depended. Like when Peter had said that I was better than pettily tripping Flash, and I admitted that maybe I wasn't.
With Matt, trust had been a conscious effort that slowly got better. With Peter, it had happened without my permission. I hadn't even realized it until just then.
It didn't make sense.
I finally decided to acknowledge the eyes that were on me, looking up and meeting Bucky's all too knowing gaze. He jerked his head to the side, and I nodded, standing up. Steve pauses the video, eyebrows furrowed.
"Hebi? We were just about to give our review on your rescue," he said, sounding confused. I smiled lopsidedly, but Bucky replies before I could.
"Just give her the quick notes later, Stevie. I need to talk with her for a second," Bucky told him, walking to the elevator with me close behind. "We'll be on my personal floor if you need us."
"But—"
"Let them go, Cap," Clint interrupted, voice almost too serious considering how silly he usually was. "This is part of that background check me and Nat did. Kid needs to hear what Bucky says."
"Do you want to elaborate on that?" Rhodey asked gently, frowning. "Because Bucky doesn't seem like he has a lot of advice for normal teenage girls."
"Hebi can fight professionally and just helped save ten people from a burning building, Rhodes," Natasha added, meeting the man's gaze firmly. "She was never completely normal. But no, we're not going to elaborate. It's personal and it's not important for you to know right now. If it becomes important, we'll tell you," the redhead crossed her arms. "For now, give the girl her privacy."
Just as the elevator doors closed, I saw Peter frowning and looking worriedly over at me.
—*—*—*—*—*
Hebi chuckled when Bucky poured them some of her Meditation Blend tea. "How many jars of this do you guys have?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I know it's one of my best sellers, but this is a little crazy."
Bucky smirked, taking a sip from his own mug. "Don't you check the addresses you mail out to? You never noticed selling several boxes to Avengers Tower?" He shot back, making her shrug.
"I don't bother reading the labels on my shed, even though I have tech on my sunglasses that allow me to do that, and my dad and his friend help mail stuff out too," The teen admitted. Luckily, she didn't sell a blend if she didn't like it in the first place so Hebi just sipped happily from the mug he made for her. Bucky just shrugged before leaning forward. They were sitting on the same sofa on Bucky's floor, which he actually shared with Steve for multiple reasons, and set his mug down on the coffee table.
"So. You zoned out a bit after Wanda pointed out about how easily you trusted Peter," he reminded her, making her come back to the reason they were up there in the first place. "I'm guessing it wasn't something you thought out beforehand?"
Hebi shifted, looking into her mug as if the light green liquid would hold the answers to all her questions.
"I didn't really think about how much trust that took until she pointed it out," Hebi admitted slowly. "Or jumping out the window and trusting him to catch me. It just seemed like the most logical thing to do. The fastest route to finish what I needed to do and get to safety, respectively," she told him. "But the more I think about it, the more confused I get," she paused to sip from her mug. "There were a million ways I could have done the same thing without giving away my identity or relying on Peter, but.."
"But they would have taken more effort or slightly more time, right?" Bucky asked, making the girl shrug.
"Most of them, maybe. But I could have just jumped out of the window and use the drainpipe to slow my descent. It would have been just as fast," I told him. "But I didn't. And that's weird, because I didn't even trust Matt, my dad, to touch me even on the shoulder for weeks after meeting him without jumping. But just one week after meeting Pete, and he can put a hand on my shoulder when I'm on shed and even more antsy than usual, and I relaxed," Hebi put the mug down on the table, running both hands through her short hair. "It doesn't make sense."
"You trust him," Bucky said matter of factly, earning a "no shit," glare from Hebi that he took with grace.
"I know that," she retorted, frustrated. "But why? I've never trusted anyone that quickly. I'm an opportunist, someone offers me a place to stay and I accept it but I sleep with one eye open. Someone offers me food, and I take it but I sniff for poisons. Trusting isn't what I do, it's not who I am. It hasn't been for years," she confided in the man.
"You're talking to me," Bucky pointed out. "You told me, Nat, and Barton about your abilities and their weaknesses, you spar with us. Isn't that trust on some level?"
"No," She responded. "It's logic. I told you my abilities so that you guys could help me train better. Give a little for a bigger return. I spar with you so that I get stronger, and if you ever turn on me I'll know at least a little of your fighting styles," Hebi told him easily. "Liking somebody doesn't equate to trusting them. I'm telling you this right now because I'm confused and frustrated and you're the only one I can think of to give me an answer," she admitted. "Liking somebody is easy," she picked up her mug again. "Too easy. It's trust I have an issue with."
Bucky stared at her for a while, sipping his tea. "I know," he responded after a while. "But it isn't everyone else you don't trust, is it? Or at the very least, there's someone you distrust even more."
Her grip on the mug tightened, sending spiderweb cracks over the handle of the ceramic dish. She quickly relaxed her grip before it could shatter completely. She didn't answer, gritting her jaw. But Bucky wasn't going to be easy on her.
"You don't trust yourself, Hebi," his voice was barely louder than a whisper. "You don't get close to people because you're afraid of what you can do to them. You told us your weaknesses so that we'd know in case you turned on us. You don't like people touching you because you know how easily just one of your fingers can kill a person."
Hebi's eyes were suspiciously wet and glossy. She took a deep breath. "I…"
"You see the people you've hurt in the faces of everyone close to you, don't you?" He kept going, his tone still as gentle as ever.
And Hebi couldn't bring herself to be angry. She wanted to be, she wanted to feel violated for someone being able to see through her so easily. But she couldn't, because she knew he wasn't just seeing through her. He only saw what he pointed out because he recognized it, and she knew that. She knew it because she saw those things in him, too. How only Steve could touch him without making the man twitch. How Bucky always sat a foot or two away from anyone else, careful not to even bump elbows. How he made jokes about how the spot on his shoulder where his metal arm connected to flesh would ache in colder weather, a subtle hint to the vulnerability of the spot.
Only knowing him for a few days, and it was easy to pick up. Because she recognized it.
The teen finished off her tea and set the mug down gently, taking a dangerously shaky breath.
She knew Bucky didn't need a confirmation.
She knew the number in her files, and Bucky knew the number well from staring at it so long the night after he found out about her secrets. After her experimentation was over, Hebi had been forced on an average of two assassinations a month until she finally ran away.
She had over a hundred kills to her name before she had even turned twelve.
Bucky knew a lot about guilt, but he had no idea what kind of toll something like that would take on a child. He did know, though, that it was a miracle Hebi could still smile and joke and be a halfway normal teenager. She was fragile and broken and hurt, but she was so much better off than she could have been. She still managed to cling to some form of humanity, some tenderness, that he was shocked could still exist after the hell and pain and guilt she experienced.
"I have Stevie," Bucky decided to say slowly. "He was my friend before everything that happened, and he stayed my friend after. He knows all sides of me, past and present," he admitted to the far too young woman sitting in front of him. Because "girl" didn't quite fit her all the time. She hadn't been a "girl" in years, he figured, since she was forced to mature too quickly. "But if he didn't have every ability he did, if he wasn't stronger than me, I don't think I'd be as comfortable with him now as I am," he cradled his ceramic mug in his hands. "But he is. And if I revert, if I regress, I know he'll stop me. And while that can be scary, knowing he's able to take me down if he needs to, it's far more comforting," Bucky looked up into Hebi's eyes. "I think you knew subconsciously that Peter was Spider-Man the whole time. Some part of you might have recognized that he was physically stronger, that he can pull you off of him if you attacked," he thought out loud. "You might be more skilled of a fighter, but you can't break Peter that easily. Especially now that you consciously know who he is, you know that he will do everything he can to take you down if you turn. You know he'll stop you," Bucky turned his head back to his tea, graciously ignoring the tears now streaming in silent rivers down Hebi's face. "In comparison to that, having him toss you up a few stories is nothing."
Hebi wiped furiously at her face.
What about Matt, then? Was she able to trust him because his senses were stronger, and he was a better fighter? Because she knew none of her assassin techniques would work on him?
Maybe. But after months of living with him, almost half a year already, she had grown to just trust him in general. To accept him as family.
What about Peter? Would he just always be a friend, then? She decided not to think about that yet. She'd figure that out eventually.
"Thank you," she breathed to Bucky, looking up at him. "I didn't need to be coddled, and you didn't do that. I'm better now, I think. So thanks."
Bucky just smiled, and stood up. "Ready to go back down?"
Hebi groaned dramatically. "Do I have to? I know Cap's just gonna order me to do rescue training with you guys on Sunday."
—*—*—*—*—*
"You did pretty good for your first time, but I want you to do specific rescue training with Barton, Natasha, and Bucky on Sunday," Steve said after a brief recap. I shot a deadpan look at Bucky, who snorted. "It's clear you didn't know exactly what to do, and you need to be more efficient next time.
Yeah, I thought wryly. It wasn't like saving lives came natural to me.
"Do you have any critiques of your own?" Steve asked next, his blue eyes kind as he looked down at me. "Now that you saw Peter fight an actual threat for the first time."
I made a face, and turned to look at my friend. He squirmed under my stare. "Yes," I confirmed emphatically, poking a finger in the center of Peter's chest gently. He gulped. "Why do you focus on strength?"
He blinked, and tilted his head. "Huh?"
"I mean, Natasha said you can life twelve tons, but you shouldn't focus on brute strength. You're not built for that," I explained, gesturing wildly with my hands. "I saw you trying to fight like Cap or Iron Man, and that just doesn't work for you. You don't have heavy ass armor, and you aren't heavily built like Steve. You might be physically able to lift a semi trailer over your head, but even a normal person can take you down if they land the right hit, you just don't have the muscle mass to bear as many direct strike as Cap or your dad," I told him. "For example," I put my thumb over the pressure point in his neck, the same one Bucky had used on me during our spar several days earlier. "What would happen if we were fighting, and I hit you here?"
"He'd drop like a rock," Clint said cheerfully.
"Steve has more muscle protecting his neck, so he'd probably be able to deal with a normal person trying to hit this pressure point a lot more easily than you can. You're strong, but scrawny," I pointed out mercilessly. "And your dad is, as previously stated, constantly surrounded by metal armor whenever he goes out. Your suit is strong, and yes it's made with flexible metal alloys, but it's specifically made to stop weapons like bullets or knives from piercing you. Blunt attacks will still do damage, because the suit is too skin tight and molded to your body. You're at even more risk when fighting anyone Enhanced. So don't just try to copy other people's fighting styles, that doesn't work for you. You need to make your own. And your webs aren't just transportation or restraints either, they're your weapon and they are unique to you. So capitalize on that."
Peter stared at me, mouth agape. He blinked rapidly for a minute. "Uh."
"We thought the same thing, but we wanted to see if you'd figure it out on your own," Natasha admitted to Peter. "We thought you'd realize it if we beat you up enough."
Peter shot her a betrayed look. "But! Buh! Ughhhh," he put his head in his hands and moaned in despair "I guess I have been trying to fight like them," he admitted miserably. "I'll work on it," I narrowed my eyes, watching his lips as he muttered something to himself. It was something along the lines of: but they're so cool.
"Good," I said happily, patting his shoulder before I realized what I was doing. I blinked, taking my hand off almost too quickly and turning around.
Yeah, that was going to take some getting used to now that I was conscious of it. "Okay! I'm hungry. Matt was planning on taking me to eat Italian, so you better be able to top it since you made me come out here on a weekday!"
Peter laughed while his dad scoffed. "You do know who owns this tower, don't you?" The billionaire asked haughtily. "I ordered Shwarma."
I blinked, tilting my head and slowly turning around to face him. "What the hell is that?"
"You don't know what shwarma is?" Tony sounded legitimately insulted. I rose an eyebrow.
"Should I?"
"No," Rhodey answered for me before Tony could, rolling his eyes. "Tones chose it as the Avenger's official meal though. Apparently it's where they all ate right after the Loki thing," he explained. "We have it once a month now, and you're just lucky, I guess."
I shrugged. "I'll eat pretty much anything, so it should be fine," I said smoothly. Fifteen minutes later, we were sat at the table and I was pleasantly surprised. "This is a lot more normal than I was expecting," I commented after taking a bite. Steve rolled his eyes.
"Ouch," the familiar voice of Scott, once again deciding to show up for the free food, spoke up when he and Hope entered the room. The woman's eyebrows rose at the sight of my face. It had been over a week, but while the black eye was almost healed it was still very noticeable. It knew it would disappear in another two or three days though. The cut, on the other hand, was nothing but a pale line almost completely gone.
"Who the hell managed to land a hit on you?" Hope asked, eyes moving from the bruise to my actual eyes. She led Scott to sit down instead of stand and gawk. He blinked after he was sat down, and shook his head with a still-gaping mouth.
"You've beaten Hope in every spar you've had with her," he said, sounding amazed and scared. He ignored my glare for his slip. "I don't want to know how someone managed to give you a black eye."
"You've sparred against the Wasp?!" Peter asked, eyes wide in his face. The attention was on me, great. Damn it, Scott. I put down my pita and chicken, swallowing my mouthful reluctantly.
"Not in her suit," I answered, rubbing my forehead. "I get bored, I visit Hank's house, Hope is usually there, and it sometimes turns into a spar. The current record is nine to zero, guess who, and I take great pride in that."
"I don't," Hope joked, giving the world's tiniest smirk. I shrugged unapologetically.
"Wait wait wait," Tony interrupted, hand held up. "You mean to tell me that you know Hank Pym personally?"
"I know you, don't I?" I quipped, grinning. "It's not that far fetched that I'd know another rich nerd."
"Please tell me you don't know Osborn too, that would be two people who really don't like me and I don't need you selling them my secrets," Tony groused, huffing. I laughed.
"Are you kidding? Osborn is an asshole, no I've never met him in person and I don't plan on it," I assured him. "He's the kind of person who acts like the best person you'll ever know to your face, all the while planning to ruin your life," I scrunched my nose. "I'm also ninety-percent sure he has entire labs doing illegal shit. No thanks."
"Good, on that we agree," Tony nodded decisively. "Maybe you can help me plot against him some day. It's soothing," he offered, making me snort.
Subject thoroughly changed, thank you Tony, the conversation continued on without another hitch.
Thankfully, I already had a revenge plan for Scott laid out. But before I could enact it, Clint decided to be a little shit.
"You know, it's funny you mention her being able to beat Hope," he said to Scott, making me swallow and out my food down again, glaring at him.
"Katniss, don't you dare tell him," I growled warningly. He just grinned, purposefully reaching up and turning his hearing aids off before turning back to face Scott. I glared up at the ceiling.
"Because she found out about Pete being Spidey last week, after the whole black eye thing not before, and asked if she could be his emergency backup."
"Someone shut him up," I pleaded. Natasha was about to take pity on me and do just that, but Clint stood up and danced out of the way closer to the now captivated Scott and Hope.
"And So Tony made the condition that me, Nat and Bucky had to assess her, and she flew by the combat tests easily and now she has a helmet to mask her identity when she goes out to help Peter. It looks like a bike helmet."
"A helmet?" Scott grinned deviously, looking back at me with an evil smile. "You're motorcycle buddies with me and Hope now!" He said, alluding to the masks on their suits that were very reminiscent of motorcycle helmets. I slid my glare to Clint.
"What part of shut your mouth do you not understand?" I signed to him, annoyed. He snorted, and lifted his hands to reply:
"Considering we're signing right now? All of it."
"Turning off your hearing aids was a low move."
"All is fair in teasing the newbie."
"Then all should be fair in the newbie getting revenge. Prepare yourself, asshole."
"Okay, all I caught out of that was the asshole symbol," Sam spoke up, having shot his eyes from one of us to the other in a vain attempt to follow our conversation. "It's pretty self explanatory."
"Hebi, watch your language. Even in sign," Steve reprimanded, but his tone had no heat since he knew by then that I wouldn't listen. I hardly even registered him saying 'language' anymore.
"Oh yeah," I snapped my fingers suddenly, and Clint turned his hearing aids back on after seeing that my revenge would not be immediate. "Speaking of revenge," I leaned over, picking up a bag. Everyone eight sense ducked, leaving Scott wide open as I hurled the bag accurately at his face. He didn't dodge in time, leaving him with a face full of pudding. And then, just to poke more fun at him, I grinned up at the ceiling. "Hey FRIDAY, you still have that trap I asked you permission to set up, right?"
"Of course Hebi. Want me to deploy?"
"Obviously," I said, right as Scott stood up to run. "Too late, jerkwad."
A panel slid away from the ceiling, and a simple mechanical arm tipped over a farm of sugar ants right onto Scott's head.
"Ant-Man, indeed," I drawled as he ran around, yelling for Hope to get the ant cybernetic and command them off of him. Loving ants as he had grown to, he refused to kill them and was stuck with them crawling all over his pudding-coated face.
Satisfied, I went back to eating my shwarma.
"All in favor of not pissing off Hebi, say I," Sam said, shamelessly raising his hand. After a moment of hesitation, everyone except Natasha and Clint rose their hand.
"Too late," Clint said with a wince, then glared at me. "Bring it on, newbie. I'm not an idiot like Scott."
"That's debatable," I quipped, not even bothering to look up at him.
"So that's where my missing robot arm went," Peter stated suddenly in belated realization.
Hope came back into the room, a device on her head and eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, Peter? My father would never let me give this to Stark to look over, but the cybernetic isn't getting the ants to respond.
I sipped my soda calmly. Tony's head slowly swiveled over to me.
"Hebi."
"Stark."
"I was working on spy ant robots…"
"Yes, you were."
"I had them hidden behind extreme security."
"Indeed you did."
"They aren't there any more, are they?"
"Did you think I'd kill real ants for him? No, the robots you were working on are all over Scott's face right now," Scott came back in with a soaking wet head suspiciously devoid of pudding or robotic ants. Tony turned his head to me again very slowly. I sipped my soda.
"Did you find out…"
"That you sent that video about me making my favorite avenger speech to Pepper, every Avenger who didn't already see it, and my dad's best friends? And then remixed it into a song that you sent to my dad and somehow managed to set as his ringtone for me? Yes. I found out. And in case you didn't realize, it annoyed me very much."
"I need to go take a shower now," Scott bemoaned, making a face. "For some reason FRIDAY said the ants would only come off in toilet water, so I had to just stick my whole head in. I've learned my lesson, I will never upset Hebi again."
As everyone stared at me, I happily finished eating my shwarma.
"Didn't Peter warn you about me being a good hacker?"
—*—*—*—*—*
"You totally got Ned's help," Peter said to Hebi, walking her home since they decided Spider-Man was capable of doing that job. Now that Hebi knew he was Spider-Man, anyway. She put her hands behind her head, a decidedly pleased smile on her face.
"Of course. It would have taken me a solid two months to crack Tony's system, I'm not that dedicated," She admitted. "It took Ned a week."
"How did you get him to agree to that?" The teen asked her, genuinely confused. "He is simultaneously in love with and terrified of my dad. Back when I first met Dad, he and I had a bit of an argument and I had Ned hack into the suit to remove it's tracker and an embarrassing protocol. He's still worried Dad's gonna punish him for it somehow. I haven't told him that the only thing he's planning is giving Ned a job."
Hebi snorted. Well, at least Bucky, Nat, and Clint knew that they didn't need an electronic tracker for Peter anymore. If he tried to pull that stunt again, she'd find him.
Unless she went with him. In that case, they would both be screwed because it would be Matt who tracked them down.
She rather avoid his Disappointed Almost-Glare (he could never quite meet her eyes when he was angry. Something about his temper threw his eye contact accuracy off) if she ever tried to avoid him for something stupid. And if Peter was involved, it would likely be something stupid and Spider-Man related. Which was about twelve times worse than normal stupid.
Hebi had seen videos of the crap Spider-Man pulled to catch a villain. A lot of it was reckless and somewhere on the borderline between idiotic and genius.
"Peter," The teenage girl tsked at him. "MJ is the only of you three that I don't have blackmail on yet. Considering she has supplied a good two thirds of said blackmail, I rather not tempt her towards revenge," she informed her friend. "But apparently the threat of embarrassing him by showing a certain video clip to Tony is more threatening than the thought of being caught hacking into said billionaire's moderately-secure cabinet—"
"Didn't he say it was protected by extreme security?" Peter asked, eyebrow raised. Hebi rolled her eyes.
"Of course he did, but that's irrelevant considering even his most slapdash security is still extreme for almost anyone. He actually labeled the cabinet the ant-cams were in 'moderately-secure,'" she confided in him, making sure to use the appropriate finger quotations. Peter nodded.
"Yeah, that makes sense," he agreed. Both of them were scanning their surroundings, considering sunset had just passed and they were entering Hell's Kitchen. Hebi was regretting letting Peter walk her home. Everything smelled and sounded and felt normal, which was to say she could smell all the same shady ass people as usual doing the same shady ass things. But she couldn't help but worry. She had an enemy that knew who she was, and here she was blatantly walking home with a friend.
Peter was good. He was strong. But she didn't want him to face her demons. She didn't want to risk losing him that way.
But there was no way to go back now. When they reached her and Matt's apartment complex, she rubbed the back of her neck. "Well," she said slowly. "This is it."
"Oh," he looked up at the building for a moment. "It's…"
"Not the shiniest thing in the world, yeah," she said, patting the brick wall lovingly. "But it's cozy."
"It's nostalgic," Peter finished, looking over at her. "The building I lived at before… you know, before being adopted, it wasn't too different from this. We lived over in Queens though, that's where I was raised," he informed me. His thumbs were hooked in his pockets.
"We?" Hebi asked before she could stop herself, tilting her head. "Fuck, forget I as—"
"My Aunt May and I," He interrupted me, his voice barely loud enough for the girl to pick up since she didn't have her hearing aids on. "She was the last family I had, you know? But two years ago, a drunk driver jumped the sidewalk and hit her as she was coming home from grocery shopping. The thing is, I was already… swinging around, you know, back then," he shifted uncomfortably. "I should have been there. I was halfway across town when I should have been there to stop it from happening. But I wasn't, and I lost the last of my blood family because of it."
Hebi was quiet, watching his face.
"Guess we're both a bit screwed, huh?" She joked, looking up at the sky. "You can't blame yourself for that, Pete. Nobody can save everyone, and the universe likes being a giant asshole whenever it can," she lowered her head, meeting his eyes squarely, looking past the vulnerability and pain there. "You are more than your mistakes. The fact that you haven't given up on getting close to people shows that. And…" she gave him a lopsided smile. "You didn't have to tell me. So, thanks."
Peter was blushing by then, and ducked his head in embarrassment. "Don't worry about it," he said shyly. "I don't know why I just blurted it out, really, but it just felt weird not to tell you. I know it's a little messed up, but it feels easier to talk about it when I know you've been through something similar."
Hebi blinked her stinging eyes, shaking her head. "I'm not gonna hug you," she blatantly quipped. Peter barked out a surprised laugh.
"I know," he said easily. "See you tomorrow, Hebi."
"Be careful on your way back, idiot," she called after him. He raised a hand to show that he heard, but kept on walking. Hebi watched until he got out of sight, and then entered the apartment building and walked up to her and Matt's door.
When she got in, she found Matt lounging on the couch with his fingertips paused over a sheet of Braille. Hebi sighed heavily, flopping down next to him.
"Well, That was… interesting," he mused out loud. Already knowing he had heard the whole conversation, Hebi just rubbed her hand down her face.
"Anyone who says he's a normal teenager needs a fucking reality check," She groused, leaning her head on Matt's shoulder. He grunted in agreement, sliding the paperwork away from him.
"What's wrong, Hebi?" He asked softly, able to hear the very slight irregularity to her breathing as clearly as she could see his red hair. Hebi sighed.
"I trust Peter," she admitted. Matt furrowed his brows.
"And that's… a bad thing?" He asked, confused.
"No, you don't get it! I've trusted him this whole time without even realizing it!" She complained, her hands tangling in her short hair. "I've been letting him touch my shoulder without reacting like I usually do, I've made subtle hints towards me not being the greatest person, I let him toss me up several stories high yesterday without even thinking twice!" She ranted hysterically, burying her face into his chest when he turned to embrace her. "It took me weeks to decide to let you touch me outside of a spar without reacting. It took me two months to get to this," she gestured to how she was letting him hug her. "And even then, it was only because you had been around me at my scariest and my lowest and never gave me up. Peter hasn't even seen an entirely genuine side of me yet, and I pat his shoulder without thinking or let him dramatically drape himself across me when he decides to be silly. I talked to Bucky, and we sorted a lot of it out, but…"
"But?"
"But is this okay?" She asked, her voice cracking. "Is it okay for me to get close to him like this? Close to any of them?" She was starting to tremble. "I already have you. I trust you. I'm close to you. I don't know if I can handle anyone else holding an important spot in my life like that," she confided in the lawyer. "And I sure as hell don't deserve it. I don't even deserve you, or Foggy, or Karen. But I'm a selfish bitch and I let myself find comfort in your guys anyway. But I'm…"
"It's okay to be selfish every now and then," Matt whispered in perhaps the most hypocritical statement ever. Hebi made sure to glare at him for it. He hardly ever let himself be selfish, always forgetting his own safety or comfort and going out of his way to provide for others instead. He ignored the weight of her gaze on his face. "It is. I'm not good at it, but it's okay. And you do deserve us. You deserve… shit, Hebi, you deserve a hell of a lot after everything you've been through," he breathed. "You deserve for all that shit to be made up for. I think Peter is good for you. He's a good friend, and you can trust him to be able to defend against you if that ever becomes necessary— yes, I know how you think you little idiot," he said fondly, touseling her hair. "Just take things slowly, okay? Get used to trusting him. It's good for you."
"Ice cream?" She asked tentatively after a long silence. Matt huffed a laugh.
"Just a little, I'm gonna start patrol in an hour or two."
"Good, I'm cashing in my second day this week," she spoke up, making Matt raise an eyebrow.
"Didn't you have enough action yesterday?" He asked dubiously, making Hebi snort.
"Yeah right," she responded flippantly. "You wish."
—*—*—*—*—*
