"So, this is it, huh?" Beck mused from within his cell, staring at the man watching him on the other side. "After all the trouble you went through to capture me, you're just gonna fork me over to the UN."

"That's the deal." Fury confirmed, as stoic as ever. "As much as I'd love to put you in some dark room somewhere and let you rot, rules exist. And these days, we really gotta follow them."

"You couldn't just let me have it, could you?" Beck asked, irritation seeping into his tone. "I could have been something. A symbol. A hero. And you threw that all away!"

"...Stark was right. You really are batshit crazy.." Fury mused, the smallest smile rising on his face. "Let me ask you something, Mr. Beck. If you really became a hero, how would you fight an Avengers level threat?"

Beck's sharp retort died before it reached his mouth as he considered the spy's words. The momentary silence allowed Fury to answer the question himself.

"You couldn't. Even if you got yourself appointed as an Avenger or any other kind of hero, the moment you faced a genuine threat you didn't create, you would be completely fucked. Your illusion would falter. You'd be dead."

Beck didn't have a comeback for that. No witty remarks or spiteful insults. Just stunned silence. Fury decided that this was the end of the conversation, and turned to leave. He made it to the door before Beck spoke again, his tone far too pleased.

"It wasn't all for nothing, though." He mused, a thin, sadistic grin rising on his face. "I still took care of Parker."

For a few brief moments, Fury didn't move a muscle. Then slowly, his hand rose to the keypad on the side of the door, and typed in a series of numbers. The door clicked open, and he walked out, leaving the illusionist to his cold, metal prison. Tony was waiting outside, a screen being projected from one hand as he watched it intently, barely noticing the spy's arrival for the first few moments.

"So, when is Ross coming to pick him up?"

"Once he stopped gaping at me, he said that he'll bring a team to pick him up tomorrow." Tony replied crisply, still watching the screen in his hand. "Apparently, he couldn't make it out tonight. Something about a security council meeting."

"How's the team fairing?" Fury asked, ignoring the glare he received in response. They both knew that usually he wasn't one to sit and chat, but after today...it didn't really hurt, did it?"

"Wanda's fine, the bullet that hit her went right out the other end. She's all patched up now." Tony reported, finally letting the screen disappear. "Wade has become a terrifying amalgamation thanks to his baby legs and baby arm. He insists it is not as painful as it looks, but I don't believe him."

A brief void of silence passed between the pair before Fury finally asked the question Tony was dreading the most.

"And how is Parker?"

Line Break

Peter's eyes opened slowly, initially rejecting the beaming lights above before making another slow attempt. He sat up slowly, shocked to find that his body only reacted in minor discomfort to these movements. He soon recognized the room around him to be the Avengers medical bay.

"Hey, you're awake!"

Peter turned his head and jumped slightly as Wade waved at him from his bed. His presence wasn't surprising, but his miniature legs and smaller than normal arm were a bit disconcerting.

"Um...hey Wade." He greeted, smiling weakly as he lifted himself higher. "Are...you ok?"

"Pssh, I'm fine." Wade assured him, while waving the baby hand and ultimately making the assurance worthless. "Besides, I was about to ask you the same thing! You're the one who got tossed around like a rag doll."

Peter flinched slightly at the mention of the incident, resulting in Wade actually looking semi-apologetic for once. Still, he pushed through and shrugged his shoulders loosely.

"I mean, I'm not in agonizing pain or anything. Just a bit uncomfortable."

"Heh, yeah. That second one is definitely going around." Wade mused with a grimace, catching Peter's attention. "The team...well, your team, is a little divided over ol' Firefist."

Peter's heart lurched as he realized who the merc was referring to, and hefted his legs off his bad and onto the ground.

"Carol…"

"AH, AH, AH, AH!" Wade exclaimed, surprising Peter and nearly making him fall off the bed. "No way, hose! You are staying in that bed until you're one-hundred percent healed."

"I'm afraid Mr. Wilson is correct, Peter." Friday chimed in from above. "Mr Stark has actively enforced it as a rule."

Peter frowned openly with this news, but reorganized himself as he got settled back into bed.

"Ok, fine. But as soon as I'm healed, I need to talk to her." He insisted.

"Whatever you say, buddy!" Wade chirped happily, mirroring the web-slinger's movement and lying back down to let his healing factor do it's work.

Line Break

Carol Danvers sat on the edge of the roof on the Avengers headquarters, allowing her legs to dangle freely in the cold night air. She was desperately trying to remember the breathing exercises she and Maria had used back in the academy to keep themselves calm.

Breath in, then out. In, out.

She recited the words mentally, calming herself momentarily. It was ok, everything was fine.

And then she saw his face again. His terrified expression as her left hand held his throat and her right one burned in preparation to strike him. And then she heard his voice.

C-carol?

Her breathing got faster, and her hands dug into the cold concrete of the rooftop as she continued to spiral.

You're disgusting, Danvers. She scolded herself. You almost killed him. An innocent boy. You were enjoying yourself, weren't you? You sick fuck.

It wasn't...I didn't know… She argued with herself internally. I thought he was Beck!

Oh, 'cause that makes it so much better! The voice spat in return. You're not fit to be an Avenger, let alone a hero. YOU COULD HAVE KILLED PETER.

"I KNOW!"

It took Carol a moment to realize she had shouted these words aloud, a luminescent blush creeping up her face as she cradled her head in her hands and allowed tears to flow freely.

I could have killed him. I could have killed Peter.

…

I'm so sorry.

Line Break

Peter was near silent as he snuck out of the medical bay, careful not to disturb the sleeping Wade, whose limbs were now almost back to normal size. Now wandering the corridors of the compound, Peter walked a bit more freely as he searched for Carol.

"C'mon, where is she?" he muttered to himself after a few good minutes of searching. He briefly considered just going to his room when a shout from above caught his attention.

"I KNOW!"

Peter recognized that voice! As fast as his legs could carry him, he raced to the nearest stairwell and made a beeline for the roof. He reached it in half a minute, and as he rounded the corner, he was met by a startling sight.

Carol Danvers sat on the edge of the room, head in her hands and openly sobbing. Peter's heart ached at the sight of the woman he liked in such a state, so he did the only thing he could think of.

"Carol?"

The captain's sobs stopped abruptly as his head whipped up and she met his gaze. Almost immediately, she was on her feet, gawking at him with a stunned expression.

"P-peter?!" She cried, hastily wiping her eyes and backing away from him. "W-what are you doing here? You should be resting!"

"I wanted to visit you." He started earnestly, advancing on her slowly. "Besides, I'm fine! I'm not really hurt anymore. Well, at least not badly."

These were clearly the wrong words to say, as Carol shook her head violently and laughed in a delirious manner.

"No. No, no, no! You're not safe around me!" She insisted, now almost to the edge of the roof again, while still facing Peter. "I-I almost killed you!"

The words stung like a punch, (unsurprisingly), but Peter continued to advance, closing the gap a bit faster now.

"It wasn't your fault! Beck tricked you!"

"Peter, just get awa-"

Carol's words morphed into a shout of surprise as she stepped back and met only air. She started to fall backward, and mentally braced for the pain that would follow her fall. Suddenly, two arms shot around her waist and yanked her forward. Suddenly, she found herself chest-to-chest with Peter, who gazed at her with an expression of simultaneous fear and wonder. Specifically, at her lips.

"P-peter?"

This is a bad idea. He warned himself mentally. You could ruin your friendship. You could get her in trouble. Don't be an idiot, Peter. Just let her go.

Slowly, Peter's hands left the pilot's waist, and he leaned back slightly. He knew that he couldn't do that, as much as he wanted to. So, he talked instead.

"You don't need to be sorry." He murmured, his sharp brown eyes meeting hers. "I know you'd never hurt me on purpose...I forgive you, Carol."

For several seconds, she just stared at him, almost like she was expecting a punchline to a bad joke. It never came. Then she did something, something that easily could have been pure instinct, raw emotion, or both at once.

She pulled Peter closer, and she kissed him.