idk what happened, but for some reason the file I uploaded skipped a chapter...? idk, but it is fixed now.

"Hebi?" Sam asked at lunch on that second day, after Hebi was scraping up the last of her (small) bowl of cheddar soup. She blinked up at him, watching as he polished off the last bite of his own grilled sandwich before swallowing and leaning towards her. "I didn't get a chance yesterday, but do you want to go to your room or anywhere you'd be more comfortable to talk?"

Oh.

Therapy time.

Hebi immediately swung her head to the trio of spies, who were scattered around the room. Natasha was talking to Wanda, Clint was facetiming his children, and Bucky was eating some of the extra cheddar soup, in the process of dipping his sandwich in it when he met her gaze. He just raised an eyebrow, glanced at Sam, and then shrugged at the girl. Hebi looked from Sam to Bucky and back again, before pouting.

Bucky shook his head. "You're on your own Hebi. Talking to Sam should do you some good, but if you're too uncomfortable just tell him and you can back out," the super soldier said reasonably. Hebi's pout turned genuine.

"Fine," she muttered to Sam, standing up. "I guess we could go to my room," her room, of course, being the guest room she had been spending the night in. Her ripped blanket had already been replaced—she assumed Bucky or Clint had noticed it and taken care of it for her.

Speaking of, the archer saw Hebi stand up and smiled widely, waving her over to him and the tablet he was on. "Hey! Come meet the kids, Hebi," he offered, making the teen freeze in place.

Kids?

"Clint," she signed, suddenly unable to work her throat properly. "I'm not good with kids."

The blond raised an eyebrow, his sharp eyes analyzing her as she stood rigidly in place. Understanding passed through his face. "Oh, right. I forgot you were sick. Sorry Lila, Cooper. Maybe you can say hi to Hebi some other time," there was a chorus of "awwhs" from the other side of the screen. Hebi took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

Lila. Cooper. A boy and a girl.

No. No she needed out before she could have a completely Matt-unrelated breakdown. Turning around, she ignored the weight of Sam's gaze on her and made a beeline to the elevator. The certified therapist was not far behind.

"...Want to start with whatever that was?" He asked gently, not looking at her. He knew she needed space, and was trying to give it as much as he could in the tiny metal box. Hebi took a slow, deep breath before shaking her head.

"I'll be honest…" she started slowly, voice hesitant even as the doors opened up onto their floor and they started to walk out to her room. "I don't think we'll get anywhere. No offense, Sam, but I don't know you. Spilling my heart out to a virtual stranger, Avenger or not, goes against all my self preservation instincts."

Sam opened the door to her guest room for her, not responding until the girl sat on the bed and he made himself comfortable in a chair facing her.

"You're comfortable around the spies. What's different? Is it because you four train together?" He asked, honest curiosity laced in his voice. Hebi grinned wryly, knowing from Peter that the whole team knew that Clint, Natasha, and Bucky knew more about her than they did. If Peter caught onto their extra knowledge so easily, she knew the rest of the team had to have, too.

"You could say that," she said carefully, looking up at the ceiling in thought as she leaned back onto her palms. "I'd appreciate if you kept Tony or anyone else from trying to figure out what I told them about me, by the way. It's bad enough I had the details of my past snooped into once already by Avengers," she leveled Sam with a firm glance, and he raised an eyebrow in slight surprise. He hadn't expected her to know that the team was curious about what the three spies knew about her but wouldn't say.

"If it was important for us to know, they would tell us," Sam leaned back in his chair, going out of his way to assume the least threatening position possible. It didn't go unnoticed by Hebi. "Tony knows that, so do the others. I admit, the billionaire can be a nosy ass," that earned him a snort from the teen, and his lips quirked up in one corner before he continued. "But he trusts Nat, though he'll never admit it. He's known her longer than all of us, I think, except Barton of course. If Nat tells him it's not something he needs to know, he probably won't look into it unless you do something to spark his nosiness."

Hebi hummed noncommittally, closing her eyes.

"Where do you want to start, then?" He asked gently after a moment of silence. "How about why you're so worried about your dad?"

Hebi didn't answer for a long moment, but he way she was tapping her fingers soundlessly on the blanket under her let Sam know that she was thinking about how to respond.

"Father figures are a sore subject for me," the girl told the older man casually. "I don't need a therapist or psychiatrist to psychoanalyze me. I know where my problems are, I know what they stem from. But knowing that shit doesn't miraculously make it easier to deal with," she snapped her eyes open, pinning him with her gaze. The green flecks in her hazel eyes seemed to shimmer amongst the hazel-brown and soft blue. "You know the basics. I got daddy issues, he neglected me and forced me to learn Japanese so that I didn't inconvenience him by making him speak English more than strictly necessary. He left me alone in an empty room and went off and died."

"Wouldn't that make you less caring about your dad now, then? Is this really about your biological father?"

Hebi snapped her mouth shut, clenching her jaw. Of course it wasn't, but she had hoped Sam wouldn't point it out, had hoped he would take the hint and change the subject to her lie. But he didn't, he somehow brought the subject right back to the truth without even knowing just how much the topic she had tried to go down was false.

Sam didn't push her, he waited patiently as she sorted through her thoughts and knew better than to try and get more specific. The teen was smart, he didn't need to elaborate for her or thrust the wounds open more than necessary.

"We don't need to talk about it then, do we?" Was her whispered answer. Sam knew, then, that he had hit a wall. Hebi would not open up any further to him. "We know the reasoning, I told you I didn't need psychoanalyzing. So why don't you give me some bullshit advice and we can get this over with, huh?"

The former soldier frowned, meeting her eyes easily and just staring at her for a long and tense moment. "Maybe talking is what you need to do. This is unhealthy Hebi, this level of dependence—"

"Don't," she interrupted him, barely controlled fury under her voice. "I told you we wouldn't get anywhere. I don't trust you, and I don't want to just pour my emotions out to you. You don't know me. Matt knows me, Clint and Natasha and Bucky are getting to know me. I've been really damn patient, Sam. I know you're doing this because you just want to help, so I let you try to do this whole therapy thing with me. And yeah, what I'm doing is shitty and not the best for my health—I get it. I'm not oblivious and I'm not stupid," her hands lifted from the bed, curling into fists as she leaned forward and placed her arms on her knees. "But you don't get to point out my dependence on Matt and call it a bad thing. Excessive, maybe, I can understand that. But you don't understand what my relationship to him means. You don't understand what it means for me to even have it. You come from a big family right? Caring, loud, the kind people like me dream of probably," turning the analysis on him made Sam straighten up and lock his jaw. "Stick with coaching PTSD. You're probably better at helping with things you can actually empathize with."

Sam left not long after that backhanded statement, and Hebi felt a sharp pang of regret for bringing up his own issues when the session was supposed to be about her. Her anger and defensiveness drowned the feeling out though, and the teen crawled under her blankets with both those emotions and her reopened wounds dragging at her energy.

"I'm going to sleep, Friday. Could you make sure nobody disturbs me until dinner?"

"Very well, Hebi."

—*—*—*—*—*

"Hey, I know I'm a bit early, but…" Foggy looked around, frowning. Dinner dishes were piled in the sink, the last of the food sitting out on the counter where it would inevitably be consumed as a snack by one of the males with a super metabolism that resided in the house before it could be put away as leftovers. The sun was already below the horizon, making the room dark as the tv was the only source of light besides the residual light from the streets outside. "Where's Hebi?"

Sure enough, the female teen was the only figure missing from those in the room. Tony was sprawled over one couch with Peter squished up next to him, Bucky and Steve cuddled on the other couch with just enough space left at the end for Clint to sit on the arm with his feet on the cushions, Wanda and Vision were curled on together on the loveseat, and Natasha, Sam, and Rhodey were laying down with pillows on the ground. Tony looked up, taking in the slightly familiar figure of the blonde lawyer and frowning.

"That's a good question. She's been down in her room since lunch, Friday?"

"Hebi has been asleep since she finished her session with Mister Wilson," Foggy instinctually cringed at the name, despite knowing that they weren't talking about Wilson Fisk. "She has had three nightmares, but specifically asked for nobody to be informed. She went back to sleep immediately after each one."

The movie playing on the TV immediately paused, and Tony and Peter sat up with matching frowns.

"That's…" Peter started, trying to find the right words. "Nightmares usually stop you from sleeping, right? I mean…" he looked around the room. "Pretty much all of us are insomniacs because of them. Mister Nelson, does Hebi…"

"Sleep a lot?" The man asked when Hebi's best friend trailed off. The lawyer shook his head, walking over to the kitchen counter and setting down his briefcase and a plastic bag. "No. She's a workaholic and has chronic nightmares, she constantly complains about only getting three or four hours of sleep on a good night. But…" he ran a hand through his hair, then let out a heavy sigh as he turned around and sank onto a stool. "Back in the summer, closer to when Matt first adopted her, something happened that they wouldn't tell me about. They fought about something, apparently involving a gunshot wound they didn't let me see," his face twisted into annoyance for a moment before smoothing back out into concern. "Hebi got so upset that she was hardly awake for the whole week. That's how she copes— the exact opposite side of the 'unhealthy' spectrum from most people," the man rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe I forgot to warn you, if you let her sleep when she's like this she probably won't let herself stay awake for longer than five or ten minutes at a time."

"In spite of the pain of her night terrors" was something that went unsaid. Everyone else understood that without it having to be voiced.

"So, since you are here early," Steve broke the silence, standing up. "Do you want to go see her? How's Murdock?"

Foggy smiled gratefully at the subject change, uncomfortable about revealing something like that without Hebi's permission but knowing it was for her own good. Hell knew she never revealed enough stuff on her own unless someone forced it out of her. She was usually all half-truths and heartfelt excuses.

"He's better. Much more coherent and his fever is almost completely gone. He's mainly just grumpy, low-energy, and trying very hard to escape us and work himself right back into sickness. That's why Karen's over there right now trying to make sure he doesn't sneak away to do late-night work at the office—"

Right then, Foggy's phone rang. He gave the Avengers an apologetic smile before turning and answering the call. The avengers that weren't heavily invested in Hebi (and the one still sore about her insult to him earlier) turned the movie back on, though they turned the volume down. However, it was soon interrupted by Foggy's exclamation of;

"I thought you locked the window!"

"A blind guy and a window?" Clint muttered in concern, but Tony shook his head.

"It has a fire escape, he probably knows how to use it just fine. I'm more curious about what their apparent familial obsession with windows is about."

Foggy interrupted whatever Clint's response was going to be, coming over with a frown and his briefcase in hand. "Sorry about that. As you can probably guess, Karen turned around to get him medicine and he slipped out of the fire escape. I'm gonna try to catch him and get him back home, sorry. The bag has a carton of ice cream—Hebi's favorite dessert. It does wonders when she's depressed. Thank you again!"

Just like that, Foggy was jogging away. He hadn't been gone for longer than a minute before the elevator doors opened again, and a groggy Hebi came out dressed in the same pajamas as that morning (she had never changed into proper day clothes, even at lunch), rubbing at her left eye.

"Well good morning sleepyhead!" Clint greeted cheerily, pretending that what Foggy had told them wasn't on his mind. "Finally decided to join the cool kids, huh?"

Hebi's mouth twisted down as she walked over and plopped onto the ground in front of the cuddled mass that was Peter and Tony.

"Couldn't stay asleep. Too much—is that ice cream?" Her eyes finally seemed to catch the bag on the counter, and the way the plastic cling to the condensation on the carton inside. As if overflowing with unseen energy, the girl spring forward and greedily snatched the carton up, tearing the bag away like wrapping from a Christmas present. "Sweet! Black cherry, Foggy remembered!" She grabbed a spoon before running back to her previous spot and digging in.

Almost immediately, her shoulders dropped and a single sniffle was heard. The movie's volume was turned up slightly to let her softly cry discreetly as she shoveled soft serve into her mouth.

The carton was long emptied and set off to the side when the elevator dinged. It was ten o'clock by then, and Tony sat up despite Peter's sleepy protests.

"That must be Pepp—" a head of red hair, in entirely the wrong shade, interrupted the billionaire. "Um, Friday?"

"He asked to surprise Hebi, Boss."

"Ah," the billionaire smiled, leaning back down and letting the redheaded lawyer hug the teen that had jumped up to meet him halfway.

The Avengers pretended to pay attention to the TV to give the two privacy, hoping that this meant that Hebi could relax and focus on healing herself a bit more. After all, her own pain wasn't something that would go away with cold medicine and rest.

—*—*—*—*—*

I felt rather than heard Tony sit up, and looked back as he started saying that Pepper must have been back, considering she had told me that she would be back around ten I had been about to agree. That is, until my open mouth caught the scent of the very man I had been frantically worrying about for the last week.

I shot up immediately, my eyes taking in his rumpled red hair and the dark circles under his eyes. He was still a bit pale and flushed in areas, his temperature trying to cling by the tips of it's fingers to him. But he still stood tall, barely weighed down by how shitty he had to be feeling.

But my emotions didn't care so much about his physical state, because I ran up and threw myself right into his open arms. I breathed his scent in deeply as he wrapped his still-strong arms around me as tightly as he could and buried his face in my neck. The better to hear my pulse and catch my scent, which would probably be creepy to anyone other than us.

But we wore similar wounds, we understood. We had to make sure the other was actually there, in every way we could. The feel of their skin and clothing under our arms, their scent heavy in the air around them, the feel of their heart pulsing—or sound of it, in his case. The sight of his hair and his back as he hugged me, in mine.

"Matt," I breathed through a sob. "You're— you're… I thought…"

"I know," he whispered back, impossibly tightening his hold. It didn't bother me of course, instead comforting me with the fact that he still had so much strength despite being sick and having been in bed for so long. He was awake, he was coherent, talking, walking.

He was okay. He would be okay.

My next breath came in with a bone-deep shudder.

"I heard Karen and Matt talking about you yesterday, before they noticed I was awake," he whispered. "You can't shut down like that, Hebi. You can't scare Karen like that either, you know they were doing everything they could to help me."

"But—"

"No," he whispered, leaning back a bit and grinning lopsidedly. "Do you think I'd let a stab and a cold take me down? Because I'd have to rethink how well you know me if you do."

"The flu is particularly dangerous for the elderly, don't you know? I was justifiably worried for you," I replied impishly, even though I was still crying and my nose was running. I sniffed heavily, rubbing one eye with my wrist. Matt barked a hoarse laugh, cuffing me over the head.

"I'm not old, you cretin," he snapped back good-naturedly. Then his lips straightened out again. "I mean it though, Hebi. Not eating?"

I shrunk into myself, the fact that his eyes didn't meet mine not at all distracting from the very parental scolding he was giving. "I needed to take care of you…" I tried to defend myself weakly. He sighed, shaking his head.

"That's a lie, we both know what you were really up to. But I'm not going anywhere, you got it? I'm responsible for keeping you out of trouble, and that's a full-time job. Can't go slacking off or else you'll take over the world," his tone turned teasing towards the end, the familiar tone making me relax and slump right back into his chest.

A moment passed.

"I can't lose you," I managed to squeeze out, carefully tightening my grip. I didn't know exactly how much pressure he could handle, but I didn't wanna test it. Never with him. "I've lost everyone else, Dad. I can't lose you too, I've—"

"Shh," he softly shushed me, maneuvering us until we were sitting on the ground just outside of the circle of sofas and various Avenger piles. "You're not gonna lose me, Hebs. You're stuck with me. Murdock stubbornness, remember? We don't stay down even if we want to."

I let out a watery chuckle at that, nodding into his chest and taking another trembling breath.

"Yeah," I agreed shakily. "Yeah. The world shoves you down and you punch it in the face, what was I thinking? Mister 'I would totally be able to disarm a bomb even though I'm blind,' obviously a flu wouldn't get you," I let out a tiny giggle at that, and Matt chuckled—and then I chuckled, and he laughed, and in a matter of seconds were both full-out bellowing while clutching each other tightly.

Yeah. Matt would be okay. I wasn't going to magically stop worrying about him, but maybe it would be a touch easier. After all, he was still here. He wasn't killed because of my lack of attention, or the infection that followed, or the flu.

It would be a while, and neither of us would completely heal from our invisible wounds, but we'd be okay. Both of us.

"Does that mean I have to worry if you get the flu, Dad? I totally forgot it was dangerous for the elderly!"

"Peter, you little—"

Soon we weren't the only ones guffawing, and I pulled away from Matt to send my tear-clouded eyes over the others in the room as Tony chased Peter around in mock anger.

Maybe I had more than just Dad now, and had ignored it the whole time. Maybe they were there to stay, too.

—*—*—*—*—*

"Hey, Hebi," the voice made me stiffen from where I was packing my stuff. Matt was in the guest room bed, none of us in the Tower wanting to have him go home when it was already so late. So, Tony has called Foggy and Karen to let them know that he was sleeping over, and I had spent the night curled up next to my dad.

The sunlight that streamed in through the window almost blinded me as I turned around to face Sam, shifting awkwardly on my feet. I knew that what I had said to him had been a really low blow. It wasn't cool at all to call out somebody else's mental issues, but hell if he hadn't asked for it. I still wasn't exactly happy with him, but I was self aware enough to know that I had crossed a line.

Too bad I wasn't exactly going to tell him that. There was no way I was going to apologize first.

"Yeah?" I asked, my tone sharp and a bit impatient. "And be quiet, my dad's a light sleeper," I jerked my head to indicate the definitely-already-awake-and-listening Matt just as he flopped over to his opposite side and grumbled unintelligibly under his breath grumpily.

The former soldier sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before looking up at me.

"Look. I know I probably went too fast during that session yesterday. But I'm just trying to help—"

"Acting like I'm some character in a practice therapy book isn't the way to do it," I interrupted tensely, crossing my arms. "Look, I get it okay? You have good intentions. But you aren't going to be able to just decipher me right away. I'm not a normal kid, I don't have normal issues, and you can't expect me to spill my guts when I've barely had a full conversation with you. You can't just call my dependency on my dad unhealthy, because you don't know me well enough for that. This is the healthiest I've ever felt, being with him helps. And I'm not overly dependent, not as much as you clearly seem to think. I go to school without an issue, I come over and spend a lot of time with Peter here at the Tower, I don't need to spend every minute with my dad. This past week was an exception, yes it got unhealthy, but you don't know all the reasons behind that either. And no, I won't tell you. We're not there yet."

"I know," he replied patiently, making me blink dumbly at him. I hadn't expected him to agree without an argument. "Look, I've dealt with other people who don't trust easily. Plenty of patients I've had don't open up right away. I normally wouldn't have just walked out, but you can probably understand why I did, right?"

I didn't answer verbally. He knew I did. He nodded after meeting my gaze for a long moment.

"But I do want to help. So how about you come back once a week, maybe see me after your weekly training with the Spy Trio? We can just talk. About anything, maybe I can get to know you before we try any real therapy. Does that sound okay?"

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, but Sam just grinned knowingly.

"I'll take back my attitude if you take back yours, deal?"

I pretended to think about it seriously for a moment, wanting to make it look like I hadn't already decided my answer. After a few seconds of pursing my lips slightly, I sighed and turned my gaze back into him. I nodded solidly, and grinned back at him.

"You drive a hard bargain, I do really like my attitude," I teased slyly, making the man roll his eyes. "But that sounds like a decent deal I guess. Next week then, after my training?"

"As long as you take a shower first. Talking to a sweaty teenager isn't anywhere on my bucket list, thank you very much," he snarked back dryly, but I didn't miss his smirk as he turned and left with a backwards wave. "Next week it is. See ya then, Hebi."

"...what happened yesterday?" Matt's slightly sleepy voice asked once Sam was out of ear shot, my father figure pushing himself groggily up into a sitting position and rubbing the sleep out of his sightless eyes. I glanced over at him, feeling a brand new surge of relief fill my every muscle with tingling energy. Then, I looked away again as I packed my dirty clothes and tea supplies back into their respective bags (the clothes going into the bag that had held my ice cream from the previous night). After a moment spent mulling over how to respond, I tilted my head and sighed slowly.

"Sam thought it would help to sit down and have a therapy session with me. He's a certified therapist, so he's qualified. I knew it would do much since I still don't trust him—"

"Hebi…" Matt's voice was soft, not so much reprimanding as it was understanding. I nodded.

"—but I gave him the benefit of the doubt anyway and let him try. As you heard, it kinda went from bad to worse. He made a comment about my dependency on you being unhealthy, and I may have replied by saying that he should stick to helping people with PTSD since he can actually empathize with them."

"Hebi!" There was the reprimand. There was a new straightness to Matt's back as he glared slightly in my direction, mouth set in a heavy frown.

"I know, I know," I admitted, setting down the bags and plopping down heavily on the bed next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. "But hell if I admit to his face that I'm sorry and know I crossed a line. I'm still annoyed."

"You know," Matt turned his head towards me and raised a brow. "You do have PTSD, so he technically could have stayed if we were going by your logic."

"Shush, he doesn't have to know that yet. He was just thinking about my dependency and probably depression issues," I pointed out.

"But they know about your nightmares, don't they? He could have just decided not to cross the same line as you."

"Orrrrr…" I tried to think of a reply, but settled for sticking my tongue out at him. "You are supposed to be on my side damn it!"

Matt chuckled. Shaking his head. "No, you screwed up. You better properly apologize to him eventually, by the way. For now, let's go home. These sheets are nice, but not nearly as nice as mine."

"Oh, are they just nine-hundred thread count silk instead of a thousand, Mister Expensive Taste in Fabric?" I teased with a large grin as we both stood up. He only grunted moodily in response, making me snort as I grabbed my two bags and we headed down. Unsurprisingly, we were met in the lobby by Tony, Steve, the Three Muskateers Spies, and Peter. My friend gave me an apologetic smile when we reached them.

"I'm sorry our first sleepover was for such a gloomy reason. But we can always have another one!"

"Nope," Matt interjected before I could reply, full Protective Dad Mode activated now that his temperature was gone and only a sore throat, headache, and residual weakness remained. "No sleeping over at a boy's house. This was not my choice, but at least you were on different floors."

I snorted, unable to help myself. "Oh please, you old buzzkill. First off, we're friends. Second off, we aren't college students and Peter isn't you."

Tony's eyebrow raised, and a cheery voice raised up just in time.

"Oh, are we talking about Matt's playboy college days? My favorite subject!" At Foggy's way too loud declaration, Tony's eyes seemed to gain a mischievous (if hypocritical) gleam as they settled on my dad.

"Oh, playboy days?"

"Shut it Stark, you have no room to talk," my dad instantly cut him off, pointing in the billionaire's general direction. "As for you, dirty traitor," he directed his second sentence at his old friend as the blonde swung an arm over his shoulder. "You better not have told Hebi any stories."

"Oh, you mean about your superpower to somehow detect the most beautiful girls in the room and woo them despite being blind? Thank you for reminding me!"

Matt immediately groaned, reaching over to cover his friend's mouth only for the blonde to duck away with a wide smile. I lunges forward, grabbing Foggy's hand and tugging him to safety.

"No, no," I knew my lips were rigged into a wicked grin as I kept my uncle figure away from my very annoyed father figure. "I wanna hear this now. Go on, Foggy."

Sufficiently encouraged, he plowed on happily, moving his hands as he spoke enthusiastically.

"Okay, so Matt had this whole suave blind-guy thing going on back then. He'd drop a book, or pretend to be lost, and once he had the girl's attention and they swooped to his supposed rescue, all he'd have to do is give her the classic Murdock Smile and they'd fawn all over him. It was disgusting," despite calling it disgusting, Foggy's voice only got even more enthusiastic and mischievous. He didn't seem put out or disgusted at all. "Oh, and there was Electra, can't forget her. Worst thing to ever happen to Matt, if you ever see her I recommend kicking her ass to the curb before Matt knows she's there. Horrible influence, classic bad girl— but I have never doubted Matt's blindness more than the day they met," Foggy's eyes rolled so far back in his head that I feared they'd stick that way. "Here we are, walking to class when one of the most beautiful girls on campus walks out of a classroom and what does Matt do but immediately make a beeline towards her? Unfortunately for our normally suave protagonist, the tables were turned!" Foggy's voice suddenly turned dramatic, and he placed a hand over his heart.

"Don't you dare, Foggy," Matt's threat was duly ignored as I once again whisked the man out of my dad's reach. Even Peter and the Avengers present looked interested. Tony looked like he was getting blackmail gold, the giant hypocrite.

"Electra turned the normally unshakeable playboy into a teenager again. Matt started stuttering and everything, it was hilarious—oof."

Matt finally got around me, latching a hand around Foggy's collar and tugging him away as his cane impatiently tapped the ground in front of him in his free hand.

"Stop corrupting my daughter's view of me, you heathen," he grumbled as he dragged his friend away. "Come on Hebi, I want to get home. And I want an actual breakfast, I'm starving."

I rolled my eyes even as I smirked. "Yeah, be right there," I called back, turning to grin at Peter and everyone else. "Foggy already told me the first half of that, he just wanted to annoy Matt by saying it in front of you guys."

The adults chuckled, and Peter snorted, his eyes lingering on my dad's form until he and Foggy exited the building, probably planning to wait for me at the bottom of the stairs.

"Our dads are pretty similar, aren't they?" He thought out loud, finally looking over at me. I blinked in surprise, looking over at Tony, who was pretending not to be listening to our conversation even though he totally was. I felt a tiny smirk tug at the corner of my lips, even as slight melancholy sunk into my gut.

"More than you know, I think," I responded vaguely before clearing my throat and getting everyone else's attention. "Hey, I know I was a handful. But, uh," I rubbed the back of my neck and looked away. "It means a lot that you guys were there and tried to help me out, so… thanks."

Clint grinned, crossing his arm.

"Yeah, you were a pain in the neck—" the archer grinned when Natasha cuffed him over the head and Bucky punched his arm.

"You didn't even do anything this time, idiot," Bucky pointed out gruffly before turning to me with a small smile. "Don't worry about it, kid."

Steve nodded next, hooking his thumbs in the loops on his jeans. "Yeah, you're one of Pete's closest friends so you're pretty much family. You even help him out with his, eh, extra curriculars, so obviously we'd want to help you if you need us to."

"Okay quit with the sap, guys," Tony, obviously, cut in. "She'll be back on Sunday for training, it's not like this is a goodbye or something," he turned his gaze onto me, and winked. "You're welcome to have a sleepover whenever, I'm the cool dad. Just call me so I can make sure there's at least one Avenger here for chaperone just in case," his teasing smirk left no room for question about what he meant by just in case.

"D-Dad," Peter hissed, face instantly blooming into a deep red.

"What? You are both healthy, growing teenagers—"

"Okay, that's enough of that," I took pity on Peter (or at least told myself that that was why I interrupted and not the slight heat I could feel building in my cheeks) and cut Tony off as I backed up. "So yeah, thank you guys and all that shit, I'll ask about the sleepover, see you on Sunday, bye!"

Taking my opening, I turned and speed walked out of the building after Foggy and Matt, pretending not to hear the bellowing laughter behind me at me and Peter's expense.

My hearing was bad, but not that bad. They were loud laughers, especially Tony and Clint.

"So," Matt said with a grin once I reached them. "Who do you think will be stuck as your chaperone? I think Natasha would be best, keep you in check—"

I felt my cheeks heat up even more, and pointedly sped up so that I was walking in front of him and Foggy.

They were both loud laughers, too.

Why did I love all these stupid people who laughed at my expense? Gah.

—*—*—*—*—*

Hey! So, I usually go for a 6k word minimum for my chapters, but this fell at about 5,900 and I reached a good ending so I just decided not to bother with the last hundred words because I knew I was likely to get carried away and end up on a tangent. Next chapter, new arc and new characters that I have been dying to finally introduce!

Also, I know I kinda dropped a bomb about Steve and Bucky dating (although is it that surprising? I probably just confirmed a suspicion at this point), but I'm not gonna emphasize their relationship very much. It isn't a focus of the story, so it will be there and I'm not gonna hide it, but it's very much a background thing. Plus, I did warn you in the tags that characters will fall all over the LGBTQ+ spectrum. However, that spectrum is not the focus of the story so it will be sprinkled in and very much normalized. Nobody's going to really act as if it's a big deal (except maybe asshole characters later on), but it will be there and mentioned now and then.

I just don't want it to take over the whole story, if you know what I mean. This is about Hebi and her relationships with Matt and Peter first, and her relationships to Foggy, Karen, and the Avengers secondarily. I just wanted to add in some LGBTQ+ stuff for personal taste, story flavor and setting development. So if you're worried about this going a bit crazy on the LGBTQ+ defense train, don't. Some stories really go all out, and some can get overwhelming or even start to walk the thin line where it gets close to downright insulting normal heterosexuals and cis gender individuals, which is not at all something I intend to do. I just want my world to feel normal. In normal life, you don't constantly point out or obsess over the gender or sexuality of your friends, family, or enemies. It's just not normal or believable. That's why I'm keeping my stuff relatively in the background for the most part— the characters might not have Canon genders or sexualities all the time (spoiler, some do. I know, shocking), but they are still people and I'm going to try my hardest to still keep them in character.

Okay, soap box over. Thank you guys so much for reading, and as always

See you next chapter~

P.S: feed the comment monster, she starved a little last chapter. ;)