This was the worst idea I had ever had.

When she had brought out her bag, thankfully half-way full, she had simply gestured for me to hop in. I had curled into a tiny ball, trying to appear like a normal bump formed by an overstuffed bag, but staying like that while I was jostled around was difficult.

Now, here I was, being knocked around as the flight attendant casually walked out of the plane.

I'll say it once, I'll say it twice, why was this my life? Peter probably never had to deal with this.

I could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving along and talking, and it was a terrifying thought to know they're out there, fine and happy, unaware of the fact that Spider-man is right under their noses. Not to mention how loud it was, like an angry swarm of bees around my head. I lived in New York, but I had become used to quieter spaces because of my time at Hydra. And for whatever reason, my ears had decided to turn everything up to eleven now that I was hyper-conscious of my surroundings.

Anyone of them could get suspicious of the lump in this bag, they could tell security and security would stop us and I would be found-

I cut my thoughts off there, I was still being paranoid. I had to stop, I would dig myself a deeper hole. I couldn't just live my life in fear, like so many people do. But yeah, the risk was still high. I took a deep breath and turned my attention to the outside world. This time, however, I listened to more specific noises than just the loud buzz. I would drive myself into a panic, otherwise, and that would be pretty dangerous. I had to calm myself down with the smaller noises.

I immediately heard the soft giggles of a young kid. I smiled lightly, listening to them as they squirmed in one of their parent's grasp. I guessed that they were being tickled, as their squeals were playful. I could hear the parent laughing quietly.

I listened as someone quietly hummed to a tune, their voice soft yet beautiful. They should become a singer.

Another person was getting their dog back from airport security. They were murmuring quiet reassurances to the pet. Wait, was their name Fluffy? Huh.

Before I could listen in to anyone else waiting in security, the bag was suddenly jolted to a stop. I frowned, a mixture of confusion and anxiety flooding through me. Why were we stopped? Had security seen the 'mysterious lump' and decided to investigate?

But I couldn't hear anyone asking to see what was inside of the bag, instead, I heard chatter. I frowned, wondering what the hold-up was. Had she forgotten what I had at stake? No, I shouldn't think so lowly of them. That would be an unfair judgment, especially considering their treatment of me thus far.

She was probably talking to a few of her colleagues, that was more likely than anything else my terrified mind could conjure up. I had to stop being suspicious, people wanted to help other people. They were just like me. I saved lives by protecting them from robbers, alien invasions and more, they helped people like me get through rough patches.

Well, my situation was kind of special, but still.

I waited patiently, fiddling with a loose thread on the inside of the bag. I couldn't see it, and it was a little bit difficult to feel through the latex, but it helped to distract me. Slowly I began to understand where all the loose strands were, the way the threads had been tied together to make the string, how it got loose. I did this all by picturing it in my mind. I smiled to myself at my small accomplishment. I began to feel around the edges, trying to find anything else to do. I didn't find anything in time for the bag to be put back at an angle and wheeled away. Oh well. I listened instead to the loud clicking of her high heels.

I wondered how women wore them. I had once gotten into mom's wardrobe when I was little. Just for fun, I had stepped into the shoes far too big for me, my feet barely half its size. It had been reasonably sized high-heels for her, but for me, they tilted everything and made it nearly impossible to walk in.

Even then, I persevered until I had been standing in front of her, a goofy smile on my face. She had taken a picture of me, and that's why I remembered that to this day.

I wondered why people put something uncomfortable on their feet and walked throughout the day. Wouldn't your heels hurt? I guess you would get used to it after a while.

I was jolted around again as she walked across small bumps on the ground, and then it was smooth sailing. We were on concrete now, not carpet. Everything was louder too, as I was pretty sure we were outside. As I listened to some of the people talking around me I realised that she had pulled up in front of the area taxis pick people up. There were taxi drivers politely asking if they needed help get baggage into the boot and where they wanted to go, people talking about their trip to each and the loud honking of cars.

Then I realised something that made me cringe. This trip was going to be weird. I mean, it would be pretty dangerous to be in a crash in this bag. I had nothing to protect me from serious harm if it did happen. I didn't want to get hurt again, especially after the fiasco that was my wrist. And, if I was injured and Hydra caught up with me it could slow me down enough for Hydra to find and get me. I wasn't sure if I would make it out alive after that. So, with that decided, I tried to think of a viable way to pop out of this suitcase. Do I just... pop out and say hello to the taxi driver? What was the harm? If I did it subtly enough, I wouldn't scare them enough to make them lose control. Now that would be embarrassing for all parties involved. And dangerous, don't forget dangerous.

What if I said something as I popped out? Just stretched and went, "It's a nice day we're having"? Hmm, maybe not. Maybe it would be better to just wait until we got to wherever the flight attendant was going? They were either going home or to a hotel, from my best guess. The chances of crashing were one in five-hundred. At least I think that's what it is.

Except, I had also been on a plane for eighteen hours, lying down and pretty really uncomfortable. They hadn't made the overhead lockers for humans after all. A chance to sit in something mildly comfortable would be a godsend. The last place I had been where there was something comfy to be on was in the library back in Wakanda, and those chairs weren't particularly comfortable in the first place. Maybe the next place I would be able to sit comfortably would be at wherever the flight attendant was taking us. I was thinking it might be her house but I couldn't be one-hundred percent certain.

After I get out of the car and leave the flight attendant I was going to head to a library to find the next train to New York. It was going to be the best way to do. If I could I would try and pay for it, but if I couldn't I might ride on the top or something.

I didn't get a chance to fully decide because the car had pulled up and it was our turn. She wheeled us forward and politely turned down the offer to put the bag in the boot. She sat down in the back, putting me on the floor on the opposite side of the car. The seat was right behind me, taunting me to get out of the bag and sit in it.

I heard the flight attendant settle into the seat and pull on her seatbelt. She then told the taxi driver where she wanted to go. The car pulled off the curb and we were on our way.

With that decided, I began to fiddle with the edge to try and find a way to get out. I realized a moment later that the zips would be at one end of the bag or another. So I reached around myself, thanking how flexible I was, and found one end. Unfortunately, I couldn't feel the zip there. It was at the bottom, not the top.

Crap, that meant some stuff would spill out if I attempted to get out.

Did I really want to do that? It would cause the nice flight attendant more hassle than she deserved, especially after helping me.

Wait, didn't taxis have cameras in them? Would they release video of me as news, revealing to everyone one in the world I was still alive? That would be great and all, people would stop being shocked to see me and they'd stop worrying, except then Hydra would be on me like bees to honey. The flight attendant would be in the frame and everyone would flock to her, asking questions about why I had been in her bag.

I could handle the press, kind of, but I didn't know how well she could handle it. I was supposed to be selfless, and that would be so selfish of me. I didn't want Hydra to go and interrogate her or something.

I sighed, being a superhero and protecting people was hard. You never know what the right decision was, and a bad one could cost lives. In this case, my life was endangered. Well, kind of, but the point was still there.

I finally decided that sitting on something was better than being squished up and cramping my muscles. Besides, Hydra was probably still looking for me in Wakanda, it would take a while for them to regroup and go after him again.

I quickly solved my zip and bag problem. I rocked forward, and then went back hard, using my weight to make the bag topple. The feeling of falling was still slightly scary, and for a second adrenaline flooded through me. I fell to the ground with a loud thump. Even though I had prepared for the inevitable collision with the ground, I still flinched. I relaxed for a moment, preparing myself for my next step.

By the heavy breathing next to him, I knew I wasn't the only one who had freaked out.

I fiddled around with the zip, frowning when I realized the zip wasn't on both the inside and outside. This wasn't my sleeping bag, I should have expected that. So, quickly improvising, I attached a finger to the cool metal underneath the zipper and used my wall-crawling ability to slowly open up the bag.

I flipped the flap of the bag and immediately stretched out, similar to a cat. How long had I been there? Curled up in an impossible ball waiting for a good opportunity to get out? Too long, and my muscles agreed.

I finally looked over at the flight attendant. She was clearly amused by my antics if the way she was grinning like a madman and biting her lips were anything to go by. The smile was infectious, and so I joined in. I knew she wouldn't be able to see it, so I gave her a small, goofy wave.

Maybe I should get a thinner fabric for my face? More expressions would come through. Except, then it would look kind of goofy, seeing small things like the lines of my face moving. Apart from hiding my secret identity, my mask helped conceal how terrifying fighting baddies was for me. They would make fun of me, there was no question about that. Two-in-one uses, like that shampoo.

I sat up, hoisting myself up and onto the car seat and instantly relaxed. It was so comfy! I pulled my seatbelt on as an afterthought. Can't forget one of my main reasons for possibly revealing myself to Hydra, after all.

Wear your seatbelts, kids.

I sat there, soaking in the comfort of the seat when I heard a startled gasp from the front of the car. The taxi driver had finally noticed his newest customer. His face was so floored, that I had to bite my lip just to stop myself from laughing.

"Don't mind me," I said, trying to smother my laughter, "Just your friendly neighbourhood, well not this neighbourhood but a neighbourhood, Spider-man!"

The flight attendant couldn't hide her laughter this time, and I quickly collapsed into my own laughter. The taxi driver looked conflicted between shock and awe, and I laughed even harder.

Huh, did Peter ever have stuff like this happen to him? It was probably more 'I-love-you-so-much-spidey' and not 'how-the-heck-did-this-kid-get-here-oh-they're-a-superhero.' He was really popular is all I'm saying. Even now, if I was being completely honest.

"Where are we headed?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

"I was going back to my place. I reckon it's the best place to go right now." She smiled. I froze, she knew I was in trouble but I doubted she knew just how bad of a situation I was in. I didn't want another person and their fate resting heavily on my mind. I couldn't let another potentially be hurt because of me.

"Um, actually, I don't think that's a good idea," I said slowly, looking down at my hands. "The people who are after me… their influence is huge. They can do some really bad stuff so easily. They probably already know I'm here because of all the cameras in the car. You would be in danger, I don't know how far they'll go to get me back."

I saw them both stiffen. I could tell they were processing what that would mean for them, and then I could see the horror dawning on their faces as they realized what that meant for me. It was better that they knew now and could prepare, instead of being attacked out of the blue. Better that they were safe. I could take their pitying looks if it helped them. The taxi man pulled to the side of the road and pulled the car to a stop.

I looked around, confused. Was he going to kick me out of the car? I couldn't blame him, and I understood why. It would even be kind of useful in all honesty, I could start on my way home quicker.

He turned around to look at me, and my eyes darted to my feet. I heard him draw a deep breath, so I slowly looked up again.

"I know your New York's hero, but you sound like you've been through a lot. This one is off the books, I'll see if I can even edit the videos for you." My heart leapt into my throat. Why had everyone been so nice to me? From the lady who bandaged up my arm, to that guy in the soup kitchen (even if he didn't actually help me in any way, he was just concerned) and now these two. I guess I did sound like a wounded puppy, or looked like I guess, but how nice everyone had been to me… it was unbelievable.

"On one condition," I paused in my mini celebration. Oh no, those three words almost always meant bad news, nearly always for me. "You sign something for me, like…" his eyes looked around his dashboard, trying to find something suitable.

When he turned back around to look at me, he had a Pikachu and a pen. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. Well, this was new. My first signature was going to be on a freaking Pokémon.

Wait, I had never thought of making a signature for this side of me.

"I never thought I would get this popular, I don't even have a signature for, y'know, Spidey me." I half-joked, trying to figure out what the best sort of signature would be. Should I do my normal running writing? Someone could identify me with that, though. Maybe it was a bit of a stretch and my paranoia was getting the best of me, but you could never be certain.

"Wait, what was Peter's signature?" I asked, looking up at the two of them. Immediately the flight attendant fished around in her pocket and grabbed her phone. I leaned over and watched as she searched it up. It was a simple Spider-man with a loop at the end that came round to underline it.

Hmm, "Should I just go with a plain old Spidey?" I asked them.

"I think that's a good idea," the taxi driver pipped up.

"Maybe add a Spider at the end? Just a quick little scribble?" The flight attendant added.

I grinned, now that would be different from Peter. His handwriting just spoke 'nerd' with its loopy, messy handwriting. "That's a great idea, thanks!"

I pulled the cap off the pen and grabbed the Pokémon. I turned it around, looking for the best place to put the signature. It had to be somewhere clear and visible, but it also couldn't cover anything important like the eyes. The biggest part of the toy was the head, but the face also had huge eyes.

I flipped it over, the back of the head would be the best place, I decided. I carefully wrote my newly decided signature and added a cartoonish spider to the end.

I hesitated a moment, trying to etch this into my memory. This was a step forward in my spidey career after all. People did recognize me and maybe even liked me. When I finally passed it and the pen back I wondered how much it would end up being worth. Probably a lot if I ended up dead soon.

The taxi driver beamed at me, "Let's get going now, shall we?"

I settled back into the seat as we pulled out back into the traffic.