It was Friday. I was a little twitchy, for multiple reasons. The first was that it was the day for me and Peter to present our science project. The second was that I had already agreed to go out on patrol with Matt that night to see if we could find my old teacher, Tian, who had been laying low and unnoticed since the day I found out who Spider-Man was. The whole issue with her was making me twitchy, to be honest, the longer she was missing. I knew her, at least a few things about her, very well. One glaring thing about her was that she never gave up on something once she started, she was methodical and a sore loser. Once someone escaped from or one-upped her, she would never accept another job or task until they were taken down or she came out on top again.

Even if that took literal years.

Perhaps that was why she had been chosen as my first teacher, since she was the one who had to deal with my six and seven-year-old clumsiness and stubbornness.

Regardless. She wasn't anywhere around as far as we could tell, and there was still one thing making me twitchy.

My shed was coming early.

It sucked when it did that, but it was like a period sometimes—it came early or late when it felt like fucking with me. I could feel the transparent scale over my eyes starting to push out, the very first few drops of liquid that would separate it from my eye starting to dull my sight and make my eyes water. It would probably be completely in effect by the next morning, I knew. I really hated my sheds.

I let out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment. Long enough for Matt to finish breakfast, apparently.

"Hebs, you okay?" His voice floated over to me from the kitchen, where he was already sat down at the counter with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. A plate of blueberry crepes sat waiting for me, with a slowly deflating dollop of whipped cream. I blinked, and stood up to go over to him.

"I'm fine," I assured him as I stretched my back, popping the joints slowly. Part snake or not, I could still get stiff joints and popping them was always like a slice of heaven. Sighing in pleasure once that was done, I sat down on my stool and started on my breakfast. "Just annoyed. Shed's coming a few days early," I informed him, watching as he frowned around a mouthful of his food at the news. "It'll probably be completely here tomorrow morning, Sunday at the latest. So, it's not too bad," I popped a bite of crepe in my mouth. Yum. Who would have guessed a blind guy could cook so well?

Then again, Matt was better at navigating than most sighted people so… didn't matter.

"Still, that can't be easy on you," he sympathized. "It can't be easy even when it's being a predictable cycle, so I know this is probably stressing you out," I slumped in my seat as he hit the nail on the head. "You can talk to me if you need to, remember that. By the way, don't forget you have a box of sales to ship out, and good luck on your presentation today."

I smiled at him gratefully, even if he couldn't see it, and continued to eat.

"Also, I started heating water for you since you seemed a little out of it this morning," Matt told me, making me realize I hadn't had my morning tea yet. That was weird, I hardly ever missed it. Then again, the whole shed thing really threw me off. I shrugged it off, getting up and getting a cup ready to steep for my breakfast, and getting my WickedTea thermos ready so I could just pour hot water, plop in a tea bag, and go after I finished getting ready.

Twenty minutes later that was exactly what I did, belly full and ready for the day. I slung a bag of boxes over my shoulder after I put my backpack on, and after a quick goodbye to Matt I was out. I stopped by the nearest UPS to ship off all my packages before heading the rest of the way to my bus stop (the perks of going to a rich school like Midtown, they made sure students could get a bus ride no matter how far away they lived). Sometimes Matt, Foggy, or Karen would drop off the orders that needed to be shipped if I couldn't, but I liked doing it myself whenever possible. It helped remind me that I was leading a life I previously would have only dreamed of.

One uneventful ride later, I was walking up to the school entrance to greet my three friends. Ned was, as I had suspected, a bundle of nerves. MJ was unaffected by the presentation coming up, and Peter was pretending to struggle under the weight of the T.V and his backpack, with Clint Barton in all his undercover glory standing nonchalantly off to the side with the box of venom vials. I grinned at the man, one of the very few Avengers actually capable of making a public appearance without being immediately recognized—provided he didn't go out in full uniform, that was. As he was pretending to be Peter's foster father (a cover story Peter had already texted me about), the archer was wearing a plain blue shirt under a black blazer, with plain black slacks underneath. Simple, suave, and nondescript.

"Classic spy," I signed with a smirk, which Clint immediately caught and snorted at. "Anybody know about the whole hearing thing?" I asked him, again in sign language, which caused the man to straighten up and walk over.

"We won't tell anybody unless they ask, but we won't keep it a secret," he responded out loud, obviously talking about his deafness like I had asked about. "It's best to be as truthful as possible for a compelling lie. Now then, rugrats," he clapped his hands happily. "I'm told a responsible adult is needed for these babies," he gently patted the padded box carrying the venom, "And I suppose I fit that label, so let's go in and get everything set up."

Ned had thankfully already had the Avengers Exposure Therapy, so he didn't squeal and ramble about Hawkeye coming to our class like Peter had told me he would have a year or two earlier. Instead, he just smiled so wide that I feared he would split his face in half, and dragged MJ with him down to class so they could set up their things before school started. After all, we still had the rest of the day as normal so there would be a few hours yet before we had to present. I rolled my eyes at the boy's enthusiasm, and then slid my eyes over to my own science partner.

Peter was still pretending to struggle under the weight of metal and glass, making me cringe. It was realistic enough, if maybe a bit melodramatic, but his flailing was making me very nervous. I could only watch for a few seconds before I couldn't take it and rushed forward.

"Okay, that's it wimp," I drawled as I carefully took the T.V out of his hands and cradled it in my own arms. "You're gonna drop it if you keep doing that nonsense, and we worked too hard for even a hairline crack in the glass to be acceptable. Go help your dad sign in, I think he's flirting with the office lady," I warned my friend, making him wince and whirl towards Clint as soon as our project was safely in my grasp. Sure enough, the archer was leaned slightly over the office counter, grinning and using his charm on the poor defenseless secretary there. A sound halfway between a squeak and a whine squeezed itself out of Peter's throat as the lanky boy ran forward to stop the train wreck before it could go any further.

I grinned, watching for a moment as Peter intervened and got Clint safely signed in and given a visitor sticker to put on his chest. The older man also had to sign a few safety slips and open the venom box to show that there were only the amount of equipment and venom vials that we had already declared and not a drop more.

Luckily, Peter and I had already gotten a late slip for our first period since all this safety stuff had already been expected to run past the first bell, so the three of us were able to take our time heading into the chemistry classroom and setting our things down.

"I'm gonna sit here and chill until your class period," Clint informed us, pulling over a chair and slumping down in it. He instantly brought out his phone. "Can't leave lethal venom unattended in a classroom of pubescent teenagers, after all, and the teacher's gonna be distracted by presentations all day."

"Keep an eye out for anything interesting," I sling an arm over Peter's shoulder, a predatory grin sliding over my lips. "'Cause once we go up, they'll all look like—"

"Shhh!" Peter slapped a hand over my mouth, making me raise an eyebrow. His face was deep red. "They can hear you!" He jerked his head to the side to indicate the first period class, all with their presentations ready and sharp glares aimed at me. I looked from the possible mob and then back to Peter before shrugging.

Clint had his head bowed, trying desperately to hold back laughter at my expense.

"My sentiment stands," I mumbled past my friend's hand, tugging my head away from his grasp to set our project down next to the box of venom. "No offense to them or anything, but we're the best."

"Hebi!"

—*—*—*—*—*

The hours passed quickly, filled with Hebi and Peter going over last-minute tips with one another and double checking all of their equipment hat didn't have to stay in the chemistry room, like their extra pairs of gloves and syringes.

"Aunt Nat is coming over with a cooler of blood for Uncle Clint to bring in," Peter told his partner. The Asian teen nodded, having noticed the most important part missing from the rest of the setup besides what was already running through the M.S.O.T.V. They only needed one extra pint, so it wasn't a big deal, but keeping a bag of blood in a top of teenagers for an extended length of time probably wasn't smart. Having it arrive only a half hour early was best.

Finally, the time came. It was… kind of anticlimactic. It was like any other school presentation—they went up to the front of the class, set everything up, and did their thing.

"We decided, for our demonstration of a chemical reaction, to show how the proteins in rattlesnake venom react to blood and change it's properties. This reaction is what makes rattlesnake venom lethal, so if you are queasy around blood you probably won't want to watch," Peter was on point, not stuttering at all once they got past their introductions. Science was his area of expertise and comfort, nerves didn't have nearly as much of an effect on him when it was involved. Hebi was similarly relaxed, though it was mostly an act.

After a childhood of being taught over and over to avoid attention at all costs, having an entire classroom's focus on her was… unnerving. It sent her heartbeat speeding up a bit, enough to actually get Peter's attention from his spot only a couple feet away. The boy tilted his head at her, but Hebi only smiled easily and continued on with their presentation.

Bluffing was an art form she had mastered, after all. Her nerves wouldn't beat her.

The audible cringe and disgust from the entire class once the blood in the M.S.O.T.V coagulated was immensely satisfying to both teenagers, and neither of them realized that they both relaxed at the reaction. The biggest part of the project was over, and had been received perfectly. But Clint, with his above average vision and sharp attention focused solely on the two of them, grinned. Hebi and Peter's shoulders had dropped at almost the same time, tension flooding away from their bodies.

The second half of their presentation, including showing the class how the T.V's flushing system worked, went even more smoothly and casually because of it.

Barton waited for them after class, when everyone was packing away their projects. Hebi and Peter had to keep their actual M.S.O.T.V with the teacher, but the skin graft, used blood, and everything else had to be disposed of or taken home.

"So," Clint greeted with a smile. "We have an extra vial of both venoms. Wanna keep them in your chem lab, Pete?"

The teen vigilante nodded, eyes drooping. Public speaking apparently drained his energy— Hebi patted his back in sympathy.

"Yes please," he answered verbally. "In one of my fridges? It should stay cool. I can find something to use it for… probably," he rubbed his forehead, causing Hebi to chuckle.

"It's time for lunch, let's go get your energy back up," she suggested, amused. "Thanks Clint, see you later?" The archer just waved cheerily before leaving with everything that was to be taken home or disposed of. Once he was gone, Hebi slung her arm around Peter's shoulders and led the sleepy boy to the cafeteria.

He peeked right back up with completely renewed energy once some food was in him.

I wonder if I can analyze the DNA in the venom, the former assassin thought as she ate from her bento for that day. I doubt it will tell me anything useful since I don't have venom, but it's worth a shot.

"What about you, Hebi?"

The girl twitched, caught off guard. She looked up from her food, a slice of omelette sticking half out of her mouth. She blinked, swallowing the half in her mouth and lowering the rest with her chopsticks.

"What about me?"

Peter and Ned shared an amused glance, used to Hebi zoning out whenever someone wasn't directly speaking to her.

"Halloween, duh," Ned spoke, but clearly that didn't clarify anything for his friend, because Hebi just tilted her head in confusion— a trait she picked up from Matt. The plump boy sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Your costume, Hebi! We aren't too old to trick or treat yet, so we're dragging you with us—"

"Wait, don't I get a say in that?"

"No," all three of her friends monotonously informed her. She snorted, shaking her head at their antics.

"Even you, MJ?" Hebi asked, a little surprised that her sarcastic friend was going to willingly go trick or treating. The curly haired girl grinned.

"I don't go for the candy, I go to troll people and silently judge the cheap costumes everyone is going to be wearing."

Hebi nodded, figuring that sounded pretty typical of the other girl. Still, trick or treating… Hebi shoved the second half of the omelette she had been eating in her mouth to hide her smile.

She hadn't been trick or treating in years, the idea filled her with childish joy.

"Uh," she said once she swallowed her food. "I don't know, I don't have a costume yet. What about you guys?"

Peter looked offended. He put a hand over his heart dramatically to show that he was just being silly, but his eyes stayed wide open. "Halloween is in two weeks, what do you mean you don't have your costume yet?"

Hebi rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, because my dad would love going shopping for costumes," she retorted. Peter ducked his head, looking chagrined.

"Huh?" Ned asked, he and MJ not having been filled in on Matt being Hebi's dad. Hebi sighed, weighing the pros and cons as she met Peter's eyes. Peter tilted his head in response, and shrugged as if trying to say I'll back you up if you decide to tell them.

Hebi nodded, accepting that silent discussion before turning to her two other friends, who had been watching the silent exchange very closely and had twin knowing grins on their faces that Hebi worked very hard to ignore. She cleared her throat pointedly.

"Anyway, you probably already suspected this, but you remember the day that teacher was a jackass and I was picked up by Matthew Murdock and his law partner?"

Ned's eyes filled with sudden recognition, and Peter had to lunge forward to cover the filipino's mouth before he could yell Hebi's secret too loudly. It took a minute, but Ned slowly calmed down and nodded to Peter that it was okay to remove his hand. Hebi and Peter let out a synchronized sigh of relief.

MJ's lips twitched. "Yeah, I suspected. Murdock's your dad, right? Makes sense why he wouldn't take you Halloween shopping," she drawled easily, clearly not surprised.

"Oh my god, he's blind! It all makes sense now," Ned breathed in awe, eyes still wide as saucers. "Well, you have to go costume shopping with one of us, then."

Peter nodded his head rapidly. "Definitely. Celebrating Halloween without a costume should be illegal. I can take you tomorrow if you want," he offered, and Hebi snorted.

"Dude," she said with a smirk, "Why are you so excited? You wear a costume almost every day," she teased her vigilante friend, who promptly started imitating a cherry.

"That's different and you know it," he argued weakly, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve with one hand in embarrassment. Ned and MJ snickered. Hebi shrugged, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm just giving you a hard time. What are you going as, then? And I can't go this weekend, I can feel my eyes starting to be stupid, my light sensitivity is probably going to be all over the place tomorrow. Next weekend?"

MJ popped a bite of food in her mouth, watching her Asian friend with a raised eyebrow for a moment. "That only gives you like four days before Halloween to find a costume. Last minute much?" The edgy girl pointed out. Ned nodded.

"Yeah, you'll be left with all the costumes nobody wants. And you're tiny—"

"Hey," Peter and Hebi objected at the same time, being the same size in almost every aspect. They were duly ignored.

"—so we might not even find your size in a normal costume and might have to go for, like, an extra large in child's size or something," the boy continued to ramble, which made Hebi cover her mouth to keep back a laugh.

"I would not fit in a kid's size, even extra large," she protested. "It would be baggy in all the wrong places. If you are so concerned about it, I can look through some of Peter's old costumes if I don't find anything in the store. The one day I won't get any shit for cross dressing, might as well milk the hell out of it," she suggested casually, looking pleased with herself. The other girl at the table nodded in approval.

"Gender norms are stupid anyway," Michelle agreed verbally. Ned was bouncing, and Peter still looked embarrassed.

"Uh, I mostly went as Star Wars characters in the past, or sometimesIwentasTonyorStevebutyoucan'ttellthem," he said the last part as fast as he could, successfully keeping Hebi from figuring out what he said. She pouted, turning her hearing aids on (she always turned them off at lunch because of how loud the whole room got), and leaning forward slightly.

"What was that? I couldn't read your lips, try again," she told her friend. The boy sunk deeper into his seat, his fork halfway in his mouth. He chewed on the plastic a bit before saying much more slowly:

"My old costumes are almost all Star Wars, but I went as Iron Man and Captain America before, but those costumes are probably way too small by now so you don't have to worry about telling anyone about their existence. Really. Nobody."

Hebi's smile widened into something mischievous, and the green fragments in her eyes shimmered dangerously. Peter paled.

"I know who I should go as for Halloween," she said in a deceptively casual voice, her face never changing. "Spider-Man has costumes of him being sold, r—"

"Heeeebiiiiiii," Peter whined almost immediately, pulling the fork out of his mouth and slumping over the table in despair. "We look at normal costumes next weekend first, and if you don't find anything then you can go as Spider-Man," he relented grumpily, his three friends laughing at how he sounded so annoyed.

—*—*—*—*—*

I whipped my cowl off, looking at the clock on my phone. Two A.M stared back at me. Hours spent out on patrol, and nothing. My vision was already getting cloudy, and it was extremely annoying. Everything was annoying.

"Calm down," Matt's voice said softly, his hand landing on my shoulder. I sighed, rubbing my forehead and letting my shoulders droop. "We'll find her. It's just a matter of when and how, that's all. She's probably staying inside at night to avoid us, which means she's planning something. That is good in that it gives us time to find her and prepare, and it isn't going to help if you stress about it right now. Get some sleep, your shed always makes you cranky."

I looked up at him, still in his costume. I took in everything—his red hair, his milky eyes that weren't hidden behind cowl or glasses for once, the fact that he towered over me at about six foot tall, the way his muscles were defined by the Daredevil suit. I took in everything I could.

"Hebi?" He asked softly when I stayed still for too long.

"Just give me a second," I whispered back. I had no idea why I was being quiet, but it seemed right for the time of night and what I was doing. "Memorizing you."

Those two words were all he needed, Matt instantly sinking into himself and his face seeming to age. He ran a hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Hebi… honestly, I don't know whether to be touched or worried or depressed, so I'm a mix of all three," he admitted before ruffling my already mask-messy pixie cut. "You'll be fine. You'll wake up next Friday or Saturday able to see again just fine. You don't need to memorize me, I'll be right here."

But the doubt was crawling around inside me. "But what if—"

"No," Matt interrupted. "You're exhausted and stressed, that's the only reason you're being so negative right now. Get some rest, Hebs. I'll be here in the morning and we'll have a nice, relaxing day. Okay?"

I breathed in slowly, nodding. "Yeah… yeah that sounds good," I admitted. "Can I…" I choked on the words a bit, shifting where Is good in front of our counter. "I'm, after we change can I sleep in your bed with you? I mean, I know I'm pretty much an adult b—"

"Of course, stupid," he agreed gently. He knew. Having someone helped with the nightmares, with the trauma, with the self depreciation. But it also helped with the lack of sight, having someone whose scent and heartbeat I recognized so close by. We had only slept on the couch together during my worst nights, but I knew that it took a toll on him. The fabric was rough against his hypersensitive skin, and it was always cramped.

Ten minutes later we were both changed and in his bed. He laid on his back, and I was curled up on my side next to him.

"Holy crap these sheets are soft," I remarked, never having been completely inside of them like I was then. "Maybe your expensive tastes are on to something."

Matt laughed, gently cuffing my head. "Go to sleep, menace."

"Yeah, Yeah. Good night."

It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep with his scent curling around me so completely, and his heartbeat's strong vibration through the mattress relaxed my every muscle.

It was a very good sleep.

When morning came, the first thing I registered were arms around me. Instinctually I tensed, not prepared or expecting the contact. After sleeping with Matt on the couch though, I knew better than to lash out. After all, it was his scent heavy on my scent receptors that I registered next. Safety. I was safe. Ignoring the lack of light even though my eyes were open, I snuggled deeply into the warmth around me.

I was woken up by Matt shifting in bed, peeling his arms away from me and sitting up. Confused, I stretched and focused on what was going on— oh. Two heat signatures and scents that shouldn't have been there.

Foggy and Karen.

I groaned, not wanting to be awake yet. Since covering my eyes would do nothing, I sprawled out as wide as I could over the bed that was now lacking my dad's presence, trying to cover as much of the warm spot he left vacant as possible.

Mmm, warmmmm.

More snickers.

"Vicious, isn't she?" Foggy's voice spoke up, heavy with amusement. "Killer of men, absorber of body heat," he teased. I groaned loudly in protest.

"I don't wanna get up so shuuuut your faaaaaceeee!"

"Queen of Whining," Karen suggested, chuckling. "And her knight in shining bedhead," oh good, she switched to teasing Matt. My wonderful father figure was not a morning person, and grunted at them as he traded out his pajama shirt for a regular one, not at all concerned about Karen's presence. She left the room, but she could not hide the extra degree in heat that her cheeks gained from me.

Blackmail. Oh, sweet sweet blackmail.

"I want ice cream," I declared, feeling the two men still in the room turn to me. I wished I could see their expressions.

"We already slept in, Hebi," Matt was quick to shoot me down. "Brunch first, ice cream later."

"Buuuut I'm not gonna stick arouuuund," I thrashed dramatically in the bed, tangling the silk sheets. "You said Tian probably isn't moving at night, right? Sooo—"

"Oh no," Matt interrupted, and I was able to register him pointing a finger at me in warning. "You aren't going out on a day patrol. It's too risky, and you just started your shed."

"Yessss," I agreed. "But I haven't cashed in my second patrol of the week yet. So hah."

"Hebi," Matt stared in my direction for a solid minute. Foggy whistled.

"Holy shit, a staring contest between blind people. You guys aren't making eye contact, stop being dramatic," the walking ball of sunshine interjected, settling an arm around Matt's shoulder. "Look at it this way. Crime is way less prevalent and less dangerous during the day, and that spider kid patrols during the day too, right? She is gonna be safer, and even has possible backup. Everyone wins," he threw his other arm out dramatically. Hypocrite. Matt grumbled under his breath before sighing.

"Fine. But you can't leave until you eat, and you call me—"

"Before I start patrol and as soon as I am heading back," I interrupted him to finish his sentence. "Yes, I know. I'll call you if I catch even a rumor about Tian, and I still want ice cream if I'm going to be forced to eat."

"What flavor?"

"Blueberry."

"Deal, get dressed."

I whooped in triumph, flying out of bed and grabbing some clothes from my side of Matt's closet. I was about to run to the restroom to change but—

"You have a purple shirt and red pants, Hebi," Foggy interrupted me, making me pause. He must have meant my red capris, which… yeah the length meant exactly nothing when the colors clashed that badly. Shit. I threw the pants at him.

"Could you pick me out some jeans then? You're the best!"

I was met with the requested jeans flopping onto my face. Sending him a thumbs up, I grabbed the item of clothing and continued off to the restroom for my daily routine.

An hour later, Matt was handing me a personal sized carton of blueberry ice cream that he had just bought, Foggy and Karen watching not far away, their own frozen treats in hand. We were all kids at heart, honestly. I snatched the carton greedily, relishing the freezing temperature against my partially cold-blooded palms. It hurt, but it didn't at the same time. The odd limbo between pain and pleasure was something that never failed to interest me, it was so odd. I opened the container hastily, digging in my spoon and shoving the first scoop I got into my mouth.

My moan of pleasure made all three of the adults with me burst into laughter. I rose my now-empty spoon to them in a mock salute.

"Okay, I'm taking this lovely soft serve to-go, I'll be home before dinner!"

"Oy!" Matt protested weakly as I turned and ran off with my sugary treat, shoveling mouthfuls as I sprinted. He quickly gave up, I was able to sense as he turned back to his two friends with what was probably a very exasperated expression. I ducked into the first safe alley I could find, changing into my suit while precariously holding my ice cream carton with my mouth— I was not putting my baby down on the filthy ground of a New York City alleyway. It was for me, not the roaches. Somehow I managed to do it without losing any of my desert or staining my costume, so that was a win. It probably helped that the Boa suit didn't have a mouth to begin with, just having a cowl that covered the neck and my head front the nose up. Suited up, I shoveled another scoop of ice cream into my mouth before scooping up my backpack and scaling the side of a building, where I proceeded to stash the empty bag in a corner of the roof where very few would look.

Much safer than stashing it in the alley, where anyone could happen upon it. The building I chose had the roof access locked, so I was feeling pretty safe in my choice. Still, there wasn't anything identifying on or in the bag so even if it was taken I was still gonna be okay.

Maybe I should make WickedTea backpacks. I filed that thought away for another time, leisurely jogging over rooftops as I ate my treat. It was pretty cool since it was fall, so I wasn't too worried about it melting anytime soon.

"Oh man, now I'm jealous," a very familiar voice said as a lithe body landed on the rooftop beside me. I turned my head, spoon in my mouth mid-bite, to Spider-Man's (damn it, Peter) lithe form standing in all its spandex glory (no, Stark, I didn't care if it wasn't actually spandex) next to me. I wished I could see him, his mask's eyes were probably being really funny.

Slowly and deliberately I removed my spoon from my mouth, dug it into the carton in my hand, and very slowly pushed the new spoonful of blueberry soft serve past my lips. I could feel as Peter shifted, putting his fists on his hips in mock anger.

"Now that's just rude."

I shrugged, fighting back a smile. When everything was said and done, Peter was a surprisingly grounding force for me. Even when I was in my shed and more vulnerable than usual, his mere presence still helped me relax a little. It was more than a little befuddling.

"Not sorry," I said nonchalantly, keeping my voice a slightly breathy whisper to disguise it. "Anyway. What's up? Nobody to punch?" I asked, moving my carton as if to look into it. Half empty, I could tell by the heat signature. Damn.

"What about you?" My costumes friend shot back easily. "Daytime isn't really your gig, and you're not even in Hell's kitchen."

I shrugged, not surprised that he easily caught onto that. It was pretty damn obvious, actually. "Eh. I'm restless, and looking for somebody. She's been laying low, Daredevil thought she might only be moving during the day to avoid me, so here I am," I spread my arms to either side of me. "Hey. I don't really know how the crime usually flows during the day, mind showing me the most active areas?"

I turned my head after another bite of ice cream, only to realize that his head was tilted. I waited a second for the cold from the ice cream to fade just in case I was registering things wrong, and when I realized I wasn't I tilted my own head to mimic him.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," he started, shifting his weight. "You're different. Last time I saw you, you were all grumbly and 'you don't have enough training,' and stuff. I thought you'd be more broody," he told me, wiggling his fingers in my direction when he said 'broody'. I laughed, shaking my head and waving my spoon at him.

"Nah. That was a bad night," I assured him, sobering up at the memory. "Or maybe today is just a good day, I don't know. Anyway, you gonna help me or not?"

He shrugged. "Why not, it's a slow day. Better keep up," he had barely finished the warning before running and leaping off the building, shoot out a line of webbing and swinging off. I cursed in glee, tightening my hand on my ice cream before taking off after him, following his heat signature and scent trail via the rooftops.

This was nice. Nobody that had to know that I was blind, and therefore nobody around to treat me any differently. No pity, no careful touches, just playful challenge and freedom. It felt so nice—or maybe that was the frozen treat in my hand.

Peter seemed to be enjoying it too, letting out whoops of glee at nearly every swing, or laughing when he turned his head to see me not far behind. I found myself grinning widely, not caring if anyone saw my exposed lips actually exhibiting my joy. Spider-Man was just a bundle of joy, it was almost impossible to stay stoic around him for long periods of time. He showed me (proverbially) the alleyways and neighborhoods where gang activity or other crimes were most common, the two of us having to drop in and stop a few as a testament to the truth behind his words.

I pinned a guy, a gangster around the age of twenty or so by his scent, and a crackhead, by his shoulder with one hand.

"Hey there," I said darkly, no longer cheery like I was when talking to Peter. I could feel said Spider-Man standing behind me, watching my every move like a hawk. I didn't let it bother me, knowing full well just what kind of violent reputation I had. Even with my mostly-empty desert in one hand, I still managed to make the criminal I was holding tremble. It was empowering. "See, you're already beat and you're friends are all wrapped up so you should really stop twitching your hand towards that knife in your boot," his hand froze, and I smirked darkly. "Good. Listen, I don't really feel up to breaking any bones today. Goody-goody behind me wouldn't let me anyway," I jerked the thumb on my ice-cream holding hand to indicate Spider-Man. "But I'm the one holding you right now, so he wouldn't make it in time if I decided to, we clear? If you answer my questions honestly, we won't have to do that. And believe me, I'll know if you lie. Deal?" with my hand on his shoulder, keeping him firmly against the wall, his heartbeat was all too obvious to me. Even the slightest fluctuation and I would notice it immediately.

The man nodded his head rapidly, and I smiled. "Good, then this should be easy. A girl named Tian, dangerous sort. About five foot ten, navy blue hair, tattoo of a dove stabbing a duck with its beak on the back of her neck. Know her?"

He shook his head, and I sighed. "N-nah man, never heard of her. I promise, if I knew I'd—"

"Yeah I know," I interrupted before he could babble on or get even more panicked. "I told you I'd know if you lied, so calm the fuck down. You're still going to the police though," I wasted not one knocking him out swiftly, stepping back to allow Spidey to web him up with the others. I waited on the roof of a nearby building for him, leaning over to drop my empty carton and spoon into the open dumpster below.

"Hey," he said, his weight plopping down beside me as we waited to make sure the police picked up the gang members. "That was…"

"Yeah, I know. Not your style," I interrupted, tone blank. It hadn't quite sunk in, I guess, just how pacifistic he was for a vigilante. Or maybe how violent I was in comparison to him. This was my friend, I wasn't really comfortable with the realization that he had seen me like that. Purposely being threatening, even if he didn't know it was me.

He shook his head, making me turn my head to him.

"I've seen worse," he admitted shyly. "I would have stepped in if you had actually broken anything, that would have been too far for sure. But… You weren't as bad as people make you out to be," he said, running the back of his neck. "It was actually kinda cool if I'm honest. I've tried being intimidating, never really been able to pull it off. But you just stood there with a freaking carton of ice cream in one hand as if badass is just in your blood or something, it was…" he shook his head as if he couldn't really put his thoughts into words. It made me snort softly.

"Badass is a part of me," I corrected him gently, laying my arms across my knees and leaning forward, not at all concerned about my balance on the lip of the roof. "I've seen some really horrible shit, done some really horrible shit. If you knew everything I'd done, I'd be the one webbed up," I didn't know why I was confiding all this in him, but maybe it was because he didn't know I was Hebi. He didn't know my age, or what I looked like, I could go right back to being his friend in a few days regardless of whether or not his opinion of Boa changed or how it did.

And maybe a part of me was sick of lying all the time.

"What do you mean?" He asked softly, his head turned towards me and his gaze heavy on the side of my face. I didn't look towards him. "You're a vigilante now, regardless of what you did before. Whatever happened in the past, it must have been a different you, or else you'd still be doing those things," he turned his head away from me and leaned back on his hands behind him. "Everyone deserves a chance to become somebody better than they were before. It seems to me like you made your own chance. Whatever you did before, I don't really want to know or care about. What you are doing now is what's important, and even if you're a bit… extreme for my tastes, it's pretty obvious you're really helping out. Crime in Hell's Kitchen has been going down since Daredevil showed up, but it's at an all time low now that you're helping him out. So… I guess I'm trying to say that you're good in my book."

I couldn't say anything for a long moment, my throat and tongue refusing to cooperate. Eventually a sound came out, but to my horror it was a dry sob—no tears, just the disbelief. It seemed to startle Peter, making him jump a bit and straighten up. I could feel his heartbeat speed up through the bricks of the roof.

"What? Was it something I said, are you okay? Oh my god did I emotionally break you?"

My dry sob turned into a laugh, and I shook my head. I raised a hand to assure him I was okay, shaking my head still in disbelief.

"No, no I'm fine. Hah. You actually said… said some really good shit there, webs. Listen, it's been a blast beating up baddies with you, but it's getting late and I have a secret identity to keep. We should do this again sometime though."

"Uh yeah, totally!" He agreed easily, Harper and happy since he was reassured that he hadn't hurt me in any way with his little speech. "But, how will you find me?"

"I got my ways, don't worry about it," I said with a grin, standing up and stretching my arms. "See ya later, Arachnerd," I waved and jumped off the building. With my hearing aids on and turned up to try and make up for my vision thing, I was just barely able to catch him saying: why can't villains make up smart puns like that?

Grinning, I ran off towards home. If I took a few extra twists and turns to make sure nobody was following me, well, nobody had to know.

Peter hadn't even realized that Steve had been shadowing us for the last hour of our joint patrol, but I had. The fact that it was somebody he trusted must have kept his Spidey-sense from going off. If Steve did somehow end up tracking me anyway, well, I could only hope the Assassin Trio could cover my ass.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week passed easily. Steve had been unable to follow Hebi home, instead prioritizing making his presence known to his adopted nephew and gently scolding him for being so friendly with a known violent vigilante.

It sparked a three-day debate between the two over what constituted a "violent vigilante," and whether or not Boa fell into that category.

Peter won.

Tony threw a mini funeral (read: celebration) for Captain America's ego after losing a debate with a teenager. Steve was Not Amused.

Hebi, to Peter's immense confusion and slight concern, wouldn't stop laughing for a solid five minutes after he told her about it.

"Is showing up unannounced going to be a thing for you?" Hebi asked on Saturday, her shed having already come off early that morning to her immense relief. Peter was outside her door, Tony by his side, with a wide smile and way too much energy for nine o'clock on a Saturday.

"You act like you're not awake already," he said with an eye roll, gesturing to her. She looked down at herself—she was wearing a black tank top and yoga pants, her bangs bobby-pinned back away from her face and sweat still glistening slightly over her skin. She looked back up at him, shrugging.

"You're lucky, our training usually runs an extra half hour. Call next time, that's what phones are for. I thought you'd know that considering the fact that your dad makes them," she snarked, nodding to indicate a Tony Stark with his nose in one of said phones. The man heard her, and snorted in agreement.

"He thinks you're going to avoid him if he calls ahead of time, and he thinks everyone likes surprises."

Hebi looked at her friend— who had adopted a very betrayed expression following his dad's words— with a very amused grin.

"I'm not gonna avoid you, Pete. But now you have to wait for me to change and you'll have to deal with my sweat. If you had called ahead of time I might have been able to shower first," she informed him casually, not at all apologetic. "Go ahead and come in, I'll need a few minutes."

Tony and Peter had never been inside the apartment before, so they were mildly surprised to walk in and see that there were apparently only two rooms other than the living room and kitchen area—one which was obviously the restroom, since Hebi disappeared into there with a pile of clothes in her arms, and the other Matt's bedroom. The man himself came out a moment later clearly in new clothes and fresh out of the shower— he must had finished not long before they arrived, his red hair still damp.

"Oh, uh, hey Mister Murdock," Peter spoke up, the two of them barely inside the apartment eight he door closed behind them. They were still a bit taken off guard by the size of everything, even Peter feeling like it was small. Comfortable for one person, not two. "Uh, I don't know if Hebi told you that she let us come in, it's just me and my dad—Uh, Tony, and uh—"

"Relax," The lawyer told the kid gently, grinning in amusement. "She told me, and you really don't have to be that cautious or anything. Do you want tea or something else to drink? I think we have soda. And I convinced Hebi to take a quick shower anyway, so you'll be waiting for a little while," he said, towel around his shoulders to catch the drips from his hair as he walked over to the kitchen.

"No, we're fine, thanks," Tony took over for his son. Watching the kid stammer with nerves was funny, but Tony wasn't heartless. "Mind if we sit?" At Murdock's friendly wave of assent, Stark led Peter to the sofa where they both sat down. Matthew took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

"Uh, where should I put this blanket?" Peter asked nervously, holding the purple blanket he had found on the arm of the couch. Matt's lips twitched, Peter's twitchiness and energy endearing to the man.

"If you can hang it over the back of the sofa, that would be great. It's Hebi's blanket. She gave CPS an ultimatum saying that she was going to live with me or on the streets avoiding them, and nothing in between, even though we obviously don't have much space here," Matt shook his head at the memory with a grin. "So the couch is her bed. We're looking for a bigger place now that the firm is doing better, and Hebi insists on pitching in some of her money from WickedTea despite me assuring her she doesn't have to," he said easily, his patented Murdock Charm easily winning over Peter. Though, the observant teen didn't miss the similarities between his and Hebi's fathers. Both of them being naturally charming, harboring childhood trauma, they were both at ease in the public eye, and they were both apparently much more active and fit than people gave them credit for or might think.

After all, people thought that Tony didn't have to do anything but get in the suit to be Iron Man, but they overlooked how heavy a suit made entirely of metal was, or how much energy it took to maneuver in the air or fight in such a heavy suit. Tony worked out just as often as any of the other avengers to keep in shape, he just didn't spar as much since there wasn't much need. Instead, he jogged or ran and trained just like anyone else would.

And obviously, as Peter looked at Matt, Hebi's father seemed to be very similar. Murdock was wearing a short sleeved shirt, which was the most causal the teen vigilante had seen the older man. Like that, he could easily make out the frankly surprising muscle on the man's arms, though the shirt and sweats were too baggy for him to see if that was a motif in the guy's body.

He had a feeling it was.

"So, training day huh?" Tony seemed to read his son's mind, his eyes briefly lingering on the lawyer's arms before going to his face. The billionaire was relaxed on the couch, as if he was a frequent visitor to the apartment. "What does that consist of?"

Matt seemed to straighten up at the subject change, grinning slightly as he sipped from a cup of water.

"We go down to a gym my old man used to fight at— he was a boxer, way back when," he told them easily, allowing himself to reminisce on the good memories for a moment. His guests both thought back to what Hebi had told them all that time ago when she had first visited the Tower, and decided to let Murdock lead the conversation in case there were bad memories best avoided. "I probably shouldn't like going there so much. Boxing is what got him killed," Matt turned his face down to his cup of water. "But it's comfortable. One of the few places I can still vaguely remember the appearance of, you know? Anyway, Hebi helps me out with a pretty standard routine. We use the punching bags, do a little weight training. My old man never wanted me to be a fighter, but now it's one of the few things that grounds me. I'm just lucky Hebi's there to keep me from falling on my face," he grinned up at Tony and Peter, who honestly hadn't been expecting the other man to share so much.

Maybe if they knew that everything that was said was common knowledge and that Matt hadn't even scratched the surface of his past or relationship with fighting, they would have realized that Matt had actually shared deceptively little.

But they didn't.

Small talk like that continued until Hebi came out fifteen minutes later, fully dressed and rubbing a towel on her head. With such short hair, it would dry in no time. So, she just hung the towel back up, raked her fingers through her bangs, and nodded.

"Ready to go. What about you guys?"

Tony stood up, and walked over to shake Murdock's hand and thank him for being hospitable (What? Tony Stark could be polite? Yeah. It was rare but yeah). Peter jumped up to walk over to his friend, and a minute later they were all piled in Tony's far too flashy Arc-run car and headed to the nearest party store that sold Halloween costumes and decorations.

When they got there, Tony didn't get out. Instead he turned around in the driver's seat to look at the two teens. "It would attract way too much attention if I went in with you, sorry kiddies," he apologized briskly, not sounding actually sorry despite Peter being able to read him well enough to tell that he actually was a bit regretful that he couldn't do something so normal with them. "You both have my number. Call me when you're about done, and I'll come pick you up. You got your card, right Pete?" At the teen's nod, Tony smirked. "Good. Get whatever you want, just make sure it'll fit in the trunk. I expect you to get prank material, Clint needs to be taught a lesson."

Hebi looked over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, and he snorted.

"Prank war. Started on Monday. It's Tony, me, Bruce, and Nat against Sam, Steve, Clint, and Wanda. Bucky and Vision are the referees, Rhodey is the disappointed mom."

"And Clint set off a flour bomb in the lab yesterday when me, Bruce, and Pete were all inside, so we need payback."

"Can I be the wildcard?" Hebi asked, smirking. Mischief was always fun. Tony thought about the whole ant-robot-and-pudding-projectile mess with Scott, and immediately nodded. He could use Hebi's expertise. "Then I'm in. Hawkbutt won't know what hit him. Also, if he, Sam, and Steve are ever in the living room together you should retreat to the kitchen and tell Friday to activate my If I'm Bored trap. You won't be disappointed."

"When do you even find the time to get Friday to do these things?" The billionaire asked, fighting an amused smile as Hebi's and Peter got it do the car. Hebi has been coming over fairly often, but he had never noticed her messing with Friday. He didn't worry about it though since Friday was virtually unhackable and therefore Hebi couldn't do anything truly damaging.

"Sorry, can't give away my secrets. Thanks for taking us here by the way, Stark," she thanked, getting a dismissive wave in return before Tony took off.

That left Peter and Hebi omg room of the costume store, staring at the rest of the mob filling the store to get their last minute costumes.

"... Race you inside," Peter said casually.

"You're on."

Peter won. Hebi blamed spider genes.

Once they caught their breaths (A.K.A: pretended to be winded in case anyone had been watching), they lifted their heads to see what could only be described as an otherworldly creature. It had a million limbs and was roaring with unmatched anger and fero—

Oh, it was just over a hundred people gathered around the costume aisles pushing and fighting over the last good items left.

That was more manageable.

The two teenagers watched with raised eyebrows and morbid curiosity as two old men wrestled over a Grim Reaper costume for their grandson, who was probably the little boy elbow deep in one of the candy buckets, shoving tootsie rolls and starbursts in his mouth.

"Technically that's stealing," Hebi remarked lazily, still a bit bemused by the whole scene. "Should we stop him?"

"Nah, it looks like an employee is already headed over," her friend answered, nodding towards the really annoyed looking twenty-something-year-old woman who was marching towards the candy thief.

"Can I please just be you for Halloween? The supply isles aren't nearly as packed, let's get some prank stuff and go eat froyo next door."

Peter mulled this over for a minute, watching the mob at the costume isles with a considering gaze before sighing. "Yeah I guess, we won't get anything good with how that crowd is acting. But if someone asks how you got something so accurate, you have to come up with a believable lie," he pointed out, which only got a shrug.

"I'm friends wi—" the fight with Hank came back to mind, and she trailed off. "Well… I haven't sorted things out with Hank yet, but I can still just say that we're friends and he humored me. No big deal," she shrugged. Even though Peter could see the pain in her eyes, he didn't voice it. Instead he grabbed the girl by the wrist and dragged her towards the Halloween supply isles. The makeup was mostly cleaned out, but there were still enough tubes of liquid face paint and other assorted things for the two prank masterminds to go crazy with. They also raided the ghost-town-like birthday isles for confetti and glitter and other necessary items.

It might have gotten a few odd looks from the harried-looking man at the checkout counter, but the teens were pleased with their haul all the same, and carried their plentiful bounty to the frozen yogurt restaurant nextdoor.

"So, you never did tell me who you're going as for Halloween anyway," Hebi reminded her friend as they sat with their respective mountains of frozen yogurt. Hebi had black cherry, cookies and cream, vanilla, cheesecake, and blueberry. The last one reminded her of exactly seven days earlier, when she— as Boa— patrolled with Spider-Man while eating blueberry ice cream. She smiled at the memory, savoring her first spoonful of the blue froyo as she listened to Peter's answer.

"So, I managed to convince everyone to make Halloween a whole Avengers thing this year. It's one of the few days that we can all get away with going out together without people recognizing them," he started out, digging his spoon into the strawberry frozen yogurt in his bowl. "Since we're all going out together, we decided on splitting into pairs to wear matching costumes. Wanda and I are the youngest— Vision is technically only six years old but he doesn't count—, so we paired off together. We decided on going as Batman and Poison Ivy, since Wanda didn't want to wear a wig or anything, and I wanted to make jokes about billionaire heroes to get on Dad's nerves. Dad and Steve are…" he continued to explain everyone's costume plans, and Hebi was content to just listen as she ate her frozen desert.

It was nice, just sitting there like a normal kid and listening to Peter ramble. It felt as if her past so far away, despite knowing the truth that it was closer and more dangerous than ever with Tian on the loose.

"Oh! You got blueberry too?" Peter's voice pulled her out of her sudden reminiscing, making her look down to see a thick section of blue in Peter's bowl of frozen yogurt. She blinked for a moment as realization sunk in, which Peter thankfully didn't notice. "I got a craving for it. I didn't tell you about what happened with Boa last week, did I? She totally teased me with her stupid blueberry ice cream, so I couldn't get it out of my mind all week. This isn't exactly the same, but it's close enough for me. Okay, so there I was, on patrol like normal…"

Hebi smiled and leaned back in her chair as she listened to him recap the day she still remembered vividly despite the lack of sight at the time.

Yeah. She knew her past was looking over her like the boogieman but for now, just for now, she could relax and ignore it and imagine she was normal. She'd deal with the storm when it hit.

—*—*—*—*—*

See you next chapter!~