A/N: Hi. It's been a hot second. I apologize for such a long wait. Lack of MCU content during quarantine left my muse for this story high and dry. And my grandmother passed about a month after I last updated, and to cope I threw myself into my latest obsession at the time (Doctor Who), so I wasn't feeling much for TSB for a while. All this to say, sorry. I couldn't tell you when the next chapter will be up, but I have so much love in my heart for Maggie and Daisy and I really do want to see their stories written, so I'll keep trying my best to write and bring these characters to life for y'all. All I ask is patience, and maybe some encouragement if anyone's feeling generous. Hope y'all are well. Enjoy!
Chapter 5: How to Make Friends and Alienate People
Rain tap-tap-tapped on the windows of the apartment as Maggie cut through the tape on another box. She lifted the flaps out of the way, dug her hand into the sea of packing peanuts, and came back out with a set of decorative plates. She glanced over her shoulder and asked, "Where do these go?"
Across the small coffee table in the den, May squinted at the plates. "Why don't you put them on the counter, and we'll find a place for them later, okay?"
Maggie pushed herself to her feet and stretched for a moment; nothing like a good shake-out to get the blood pumping again. Then she weaved through the maze of boxes on the floor, stepping over Peter's outstretched legs to get into the kitchen.
They'd been at this for most of the day — unpacking, sorting, trying to make a dent in Mount Boxverest (name courtesy of Peter). It was tedious, repetitive work, but May had pop music playing softly from a small speaker on the half-wall and they were making good progress. It wasn't like they could do much else. According to the news, the storm wouldn't break until early the next morning, just in time for the Fourth, and after a few days of exploring all that Queens had to offer, none of them really wanted to leave the apartment anyway.
Maggie stifled a yawn as she put down the plates. She hadn't been able to get much sleep after her foray onto the roof the other night — and her chat with Spider-Man.
There was something about him that begged her to investigate and find out more about the web-headed wonder. Like how he knew her name, how he got his powers (that was more her own curiosity than anything else), and, perhaps most importantly, why he seemed so familiar to her. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn she'd seen him somewhere before.
She'd been up to the roof a few times since, but she hadn't seen him again. Maybe he was avoiding Wisteria Towers. Or maybe she just never headed up at the right time to catch him.
"Hey, May, can Ned come over?" Daisy asked, looking up from her phone. She'd chosen to sit on the opposite side of the den from Maggie. "He just got home from robotics camp."
"If he wants to brave the storm, I don't see why not," May said.
"He said he doesn't care about the rain," said Peter.
"Well, our door has always been open to him, he knows that. Make sure you text him our new address," said May. She tossed another empty box into the ever-growing pile by the half-wall. "I think that's enough unpacking for one day, don't you? Who's hungry? I'll make sandwiches."
"Me!" Peter and Daisy chorused.
Maggie helped May clear a better path through the den while Peter and Daisy finished hooking up the television and a battered Nintendo Wii. May ducked into the kitchen, leaving Maggie to watch the younger Parkers work.
"Me and Ned and Daisy love playing video games together," Peter explained to her. "Not to brag or anything but I always win when we play Mario Kart."
"No, you don't!" Daisy said. "You can barely keep yourself on the track when we play Rainbow Road!"
Peter gasped in mock indignation. "I am amazing on Rainbow Road, thank you very much. You're just mad because I can win with Funky Kong and you can't."
"He's way too bulky!"
"Maybe you should just get better at Mario Kart, I don't know what to tell you, Dais."
"What's Mario Kart?" Maggie asked.
She'd thought it was an innocent question, but they both turned to her, incredulous. Peter's mouth actually fell open like a cartoon character.
"Oh, my god," Daisy said in disbelief. "And here I thought you couldn't get any worse, Cali girl."
Peter reached around the TV and smacked her on the arm. As Daisy rubbed the spot with a glare at her brother, Peter turned back to Maggie. "You've never heard of Mario Kart before?"
"No. Is that… bad?" Maggie could feel the heat rising to her cheeks and she resisted the urge to reach for her necklace.
"No, no! It's not bad!" Peter hurriedly assured her. "It's just surprising, that's all. I've never met anyone who hasn't played Mario Kart at least once in their life."
"Well, now you have, I guess," said Maggie. "I'm an only child, anyway. It's not like I would have anyone to play it with."
Daisy raised an eyebrow. "What, you've never been over to a friend's house before?"
An uncomfortable knot formed in the pit of Maggie's stomach. Growing up in a big empty mansion with private tutors hadn't afforded her many opportunities to meet kids her own age, and the sons and daughters of other rich people were never very forthcoming with offers of friendship during those rare times she encountered them at parties her father dragged her to when she was little.
Even within her family, she'd always been the youngest. Wanda came close, but she still had a number of years on Maggie. And anyway, they'd all lived together in some capacity on and off since the Incident. The only time she'd ever gone to someone's house had been that visit to Washington, D.C., to see Steve, and they weren't exactly playing video games all day. Maggie winced at the memory.
Not for the first time, Peter saved Maggie. Before the silence could stretch too long, he turned to Daisy and said, "Hey, this is perfect! We always say we wish we could do teams for Balloon Battle, right, Dais?"
Daisy didn't seem to want to brush over Maggie's nonanswer so quickly, but she settled for a scrutinizing once-over of the other girl and an eye roll at her brother. "Yeah, fine, whatever. As long as she's not on my team."
Her long hair fanned out behind her as she turned away from them and waded through the piles of boxes to head into the kitchen. Behind her back, Peter made a face and stuck his tongue out at her, making Maggie laugh under her breath. He shot her a smile, happy to have lifted her spirits a bit. She wouldn't admit it to him — not yet at least — but she appreciated his quiet kindness.
There was a knock on the door not long after they finished eating lunch.
What Ned Leeds somewhat lacked in height, he made up for with enthusiasm. He greeted Peter and Daisy with big hugs and did a funny little handshake with Peter. His dark hair fell across his eyes so that he often had to brush it away to be able to see. When he took off his raincoat, Maggie saw he was wearing a pair of long shorts and a white t-shirt with a robot on it underneath a red and white zip-up hoodie.
As he draped his raincoat on the back of one of the kitchen chairs to dry, a thousand worrisome questions bounced through Maggie's head. Should she say hello first? Or wait for him to acknowledge her? Would that be rude, though? Usually, her father would introduce her to someone she didn't know — a new Stark Industries business partner, an old friend from within the Southern California elite. Adults with whom she would shake hands, make small talk, give a polite smile while enduring their inevitable patronizing remarks. Would he even want to talk to her, or would he ignore her in favor of his friends?
Ned Leeds was brand new territory. Hell, teenagers were brand new territory. Maggie was still trying to get used to Peter and Daisy.
"Oh, hey, Ned," said Peter, yanking her back to the present, "this is Maggie. Maggie, this is our best friend, Ned."
Ned gave her a cheerful wave. "Hey, Maggie!"
"Hi," she replied.
"Peter said you're going to Midtown next year, right?" Ned asked as Daisy led the way into the den. When Maggie nodded, he smiled. "That's cool! It's a really great school. Lots of work, but it's not bad if you like science. Are you really from California? Do you live close to the beach or, like, in the part with all the forests and stuff?"
It turned out Maggie needn't have worried about getting along with Ned. He was without a doubt one of the friendliest people she'd ever met.
But she was wholly unprepared for his endless stream of questions. Yes, she lived close to the beach but no, she had never been surfing. Yes, she'd been to the East Coast before. No, she didn't go to the San Diego Zoo all the time. If Ned hadn't been so damn nice, Maggie was sure she would have throttled him by the time they all sat down in the den to play Mario Kart.
Maggie would have been fine sitting out and watching, but Peter insisted she play with them. He patiently explained how to hold the controller, which buttons to press, which part of the screen to watch. Ned told her all about each item you could receive from the floating mystery boxes on the track and what they did. The first race went about as well as any of them expected, but after a few rounds Maggie started getting the hang of it and closing the gap between her and the computer driver in eleventh place.
"Peter!" Daisy groaned as one of the balloons floating above her character popped. He had dropped a banana peel right in front of her, and she hadn't noticed until it was too late. "Son of a bitch!"
"Language, Daisy," May called from the kitchen.
"Sorry, May!" Daisy called back.
She couldn't keep this up much longer. Any more and she thought she might just drop dead onto the mat below. But he was relentless. He wouldn't let her rest, even for a second. No matter how fast she moved, he was always right there waiting for her, always one step ahead.
Dodging an elbow aimed for her head, Maggie crouched close to the ground and swept her leg out, catching his ankle. He stumbled backward a couple steps, but he recovered his balance quickly. In one motion, she rose to her feet and surged forward. Her arm was already pulled back when she reached him, and she swung with all her might at his face.
He caught her fist in his own massive hand before it could even come near him and threw her arm out of the way. Grabbing the same wrist, he twisted her arm behind her back until her shoulder burned. Maggie yelped at the pain. She struggled against him, stomping her heel on the ground in hopes of finding his foot, but it was no use. He had her pinned.
"Alright, stop!" she cried. "I yield!"
Immediately, he let go of her and the pain in her shoulder disappeared. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping, fighting back the urge to retch. The stitch in her side that had begun half an hour earlier returned in full force.
A pair of sneakers entered her vision. Maggie looked up to find him watching her with concern, his hand extended. She took it and let him help her to her feet.
"Son… of a bitch," she said in between huge, deep breaths.
"Language, Maggie," Steve chided.
"Sorry," she said, though she wasn't very sorry at all. "You could've at least… gone easy."
"Enemies wouldn't go easy on you." Steve led her over to the bench on the side of the room. As she sat with her back pressed to the wall, he fetched their things from where they'd left them by the punching bags. "Even if you're not going out into the field, you need to be able to defend yourself."
Maggie greedily sucked on the straw of her water bottle. When she pulled off to take another breath, she grumbled, "You still didn't have to pull so hard. I thought you were gonna dislocate my shoulder."
"Trust me, Mags, if I wanted to dislocate your shoulder, I would have," he told her. "I push you like this because I need to know you could hold your own if anything ever happened."
She waved him away. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Besides, I seem to remember you begging me for this," Steve said, a hint of mischief in his voice.
"I did not!" she protested.
"'Oh, please, Steve, please help me train! You're my best friend, you have to help me!'" he said in a bad imitation of her.
"Shut up, I do not sound like that!"
"Where's Sam? He was there, he'll remember."
"Steve, don't you dare!" Maggie yelled, chasing after him across the training room, laughing in spite of herself.
The whistle signaling the end of the Balloon Battle round blew in the television speakers. Maggie pulled her focus back into the game just as her character fell off the edge of the map and reappeared safely on the ground, cheering for their team's victory. Around her, Daisy and Peter were shaking their heads and commiserating in their defeat. Peter turned to Maggie with a grin. If he'd noticed her spacing out, he didn't mention it.
Daisy let out a sharp, annoyed breath. "Let's play Smash. I'm kinda done with Mario Kart for today."
"Ooh, someone's a sore loser!" Peter teased in a sing-song voice. As he got up to change the game disc, despite his back being turned to her, he somehow ducked to avoid the pillow she'd aimed at him, laughing goodnaturedly. "Maggie, you wanna try this one? It's super fun."
"Maybe another time," she said.
"So, Maggie," Ned started, turning in the love seat to face her, "what made you want to go to Midtown?"
She tried to keep her shrug as casual as possible. "I needed a change."
"Did you go to a S.T.E.M. school in California?"
"What's a S.T.E.M. school?"
Daisy rolled her eyes. "Obviously not, then."
"Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math," Peter explained. "It just means Midtown puts a bigger emphasis on those subjects than regular high schools. It's supposed to challenge and prepare us for the workload when we get to college since most S.T.E.M. kids end up applying to ridiculously competitive schools like Harvard or MIT."
Dad had always said he would have loved it if she ended up at MIT, but only if she wanted to. Maggie supposed now it would be a real possibility.
"Uh, y-yeah no, I didn't go to a S.T.E.M. school," she answered, forcing away thoughts of her father.
"Okay, okay, wait, Maggie, since you're from California, I have to ask," said Ned. "Have you ever met anyone famous?"
The sudden change in topic caught her off guard and Maggie started laughing.
"Are you kidding? Of course, I have! I literally—" Too late, Maggie realized her mistake. But the words were already out of her mouth now. She had to lie. Again. "I, uh, I see them all the time when we go to LA. Yeah, they're — they're everywhere."
Ned's jaw dropped. "Oh, my god, that is so cool! Who have you seen?"
"Uh, Elon Musk, Black Sabbath, AC/DC," she said, counting on her fingers.
Okay, so it wasn't a total lie. She had met them all before, and many, many more. Massive fan of both bands that he was, her father had gotten them backstage to meet Black Sabbath and AC/DC more than a few times. And Elon Musk frequented many of the high-profile parties Dad used to attend.
Ned looked like a kid on Christmas. He seemed so excited for her, and Maggie felt guilt rising in the back of her throat like bile because she still was, in a way, lying to him. And with the guilt came fear. Because if this was how he handled hearing about someone else meeting random celebrities — how would he react if he knew who she really was? Who her father was? Her family, her friends. Would everyone be like this?
"Elon Musk? That's lame." Daisy scoffed. "Peter and I have met Tony Stark."
Maggie's heart just about stopped in her chest. She choked out, "T-Tony Stark?"
"Yeah, but I mean, it's not that big of a deal," Peter said hastily, sending a glare at Daisy, who looked extremely smug.
"Oh, come on, Pete. When we saw him, I thought you were gonna pee your pants," said Daisy. "I don't get why you're trying to play it down anyway. Don't you see him all the time with your internship?"
"Dude! You didn't tell me you were actually working with Tony Stark!" Ned exclaimed. "I thought you just worked in Stark Industries, not with Iron Man! What's he like? Is he as cool up close as he looks on TV? What does he smell like?" He let out a gasp worthy of an Oscar-winner. "Have you met any of the other Avengers?"
Something heavy formed in the pit of Maggie's stomach.
Never mind that her father had hardly slept through the night since the Battle of New York four years earlier. Hell, since Afghanistan, really. Never mind that everyone else on the team all had their own ghosts haunting them day in and day out. People didn't care about that. She'd been right to hide her identity from Ned and the Parkers. She would have been a means to an end in their eyes — a glimpse into the superficial side of her father, her family, that everyone craved.
No one could ever know who she was. Not Ned, not Daisy or May, not even Peter. She'd spent her whole life locked away; she didn't want to spend her time of freedom as a freakshow, a zoo animal to be poked and prodded and watched for entertainment.
"No, Ned, I haven't met any of the other Avengers," Peter answered, annoyance creeping into his voice. "I've barely even seen Mr. Stark. Honestly. Plus, I'm pretty sure, like, half of the Avengers are in prison, now, right? It's not like they're hanging out around Avengers Tower anymore."
Before she could stop it, the memory hit Maggie and nearly knocked the wind out of her — the cell, those gray, unmoving walls, voices without faces taunting her, laughing at her, offering assurances in stolen moments of peace. Ross sneering down at her from the other side of the bars that separated her from the rest of the world.
Maggie shot to her feet. Every head turned toward her as she tripped over herself trying to get around the couch and the boxes littering the ground, mumbling, "Don't feel good."
She ignored May's concerned face following her from the kitchen and made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door shut a little too hard by accident. She had to breathe. Focus on something else, right? Wasn't that what Dr. Rollins always said? She couldn't remember anymore. Her heart thundered in her chest.
The backs of Maggie's legs pressed against the toilet and she all but collapsed onto the seat cover. She could feel the ghost of that stiff, itchy uniform against her skin. A funny ringing had started up in her ears, blocking out the sounds of everything but the sharp intake of her breaths.
"You're not there, you're not there," she whispered. In the quiet of the bathroom, she sounded so loud. "You're safe, Mags. You're okay. It's okay. No more prison, no more Ross. No more prison, no more Ross."
She pulled in a shaky breath through her nose and let it out slowly. "Come on, Mags. You're safe. You're safe." In and out. Another breath, then another. She screwed her eyes shut.
An eternity passed before her heart stopped banging against her ribs like a tree in a windstorm. Tremors still ran through her hands. She pressed them against her face. The tips of her fingers had gone numb.
"Maggie?"
May's voice reached her through the wooden door and the miles of cotton filling her ears. She sounded worried.
"You okay, hon?" she asked.
It took Maggie a moment to find her voice. "Yeah, I'm — I'm fine. I'll be out in a second."
Forcing herself to stand, she turned on the tap at the sink, letting the cool water run through her fingers for a moment before gently splashing some on her face. When she glanced at herself in the mirror, her features looked drawn and pinched.
She scowled. Her reflection scowled back.
Maggie left the bathroom to find May hovering by the door and wringing a dishtowel in her hands. She also caught Daisy peeking around the corner from the den; as soon as she realized she'd been spotted, her head disappeared.
"What happened? Are you all right?" May asked, giving her a once-over.
"Nothing," Maggie lied. "Just — girl stuff."
She cringed as the words left her mouth. 'Girl stuff'? Really? That was the best thing she could come up with? At this rate, Maggie would be lucky if she made it through the summer without being found out. Even if she were telling the truth, she'd been with the Parkers all of a few days, and that was, quite frankly, not something she wanted to talk about with anyone other than Pepper or Natasha.
May gave her a knowing nod. "I see. Do you need anything?"
"No, no, I'm fine," said Maggie, shaking her head. "Thanks, really, but I'm — good."
For a long second, it seemed like May didn't believe her. Or maybe Maggie's mind was playing tricks on her. Whatever had come over her had subsided, but her anxiety levels were still sky high. What she really needed was a nice grand piano or a punching bag; she wasn't feeling too picky at the moment.
"All right," May said eventually. "Why don't you head back in with the kids, then? I'm sure they'd be willing to teach you how to play the new game they just put in."
"Actually, I think I'm gonna spend some time in the guest room, just for a bit. If that's okay," she added.
May's gaze softened. "Of course, sweetie. Take all the time you need. I remember how bad my 'girl stuff' used to get." As she cut a glance over her shoulder to check the clock on one of the walls, Maggie shuddered. Too much information. May looked back at her and gave her a warm smile. "I'll knock when it's time for dinner, all right?"
Maggie nodded just to finally get to the end of the conversation. It felt mean to say because May had been so nice to her since she arrived, but she really didn't want to hear about anyone else's 'girl stuff' problems. She needed to be alone.
Except when she shut the door behind herself and sat down on the edge of the guest bed, she felt lonelier than ever. She didn't want to be alone — she wanted to be with the people she would never see again. She wanted Sam's whispered promises that she would be okay. She wanted Nat's hugs and Wanda's homemade Sokovian dinners. Hell, she would even have taken a noogie from Clint.
But they were gone. Even though she'd been there with them on the Raft, she kept having to remind herself of that. Sam, Wanda, and Clint were still there, locked up like common criminals. Natasha was… Maggie wasn't even sure. In the wind, most likely. She hadn't seen her since Leipzig.
Maggie felt like the only one left. The last piece standing on the chessboard. Dad and Uncle Rhodey didn't count, really, and Steve—
Her back pocket started vibrating, pulling her out of the past. Maggie reached for her phone and checked the screen. The call was coming from an Unknown Number.
If she'd had any sense, she wouldn't have answered it. But she was used to getting calls from the team on burner phones while they were away for missions. It was a force of habit to pick it up.
"Hello?" Maggie said into the speaker.
There was no immediate answer. Static from a poor connection crackled in her ear.
Maggie swung her legs onto the bed and laid back onto the pillows. "Hello?"
"…Maggie?"
She bolted upright. Frozen, breaths shallow, eyes unseeing. Her grip tightened around her phone.
"Mags?" said Steve.
