"When I blipped back into my apartment- " Aunt May's voice rang through the microphone, filling the vast open space of the homeless shelter. Regular cots and desks had been temporarily pushed aside and the entire shelter had been decked out in balloons, with there was a buffet over in the corner, for the Displacement event Aunt May had organized. "-The family that was living there was very confused. The wife thought that I was a mistress-" there was some laughter, "-The grandma thought I was a ghost it was- it was a mess." She laughed nervously. "Thank you all for coming out to support those who were displaced by the Blip, and thanks of course to our very own-" She gestured towards Peter, who stood in full Iron Spider Suit next to her, "Spiderman!" She took a small step to the side.

Oh shit, did she want him to say something? "Er-" He got a little closer to the mic- "Thanks to you guys for having me, and thank you, Miss Parker, for having me." His tongue suddenly felt too fat for his mouth. What else was he supposed to say?

Aunt May swooped in to save him. "And thank you Spiderman- he'll be right back out in just a second to take photos, and videos…"

Peter took that as his cue to go back behind the curtain that separated the front from the back of the stage. Sitting on one of the empty metal tables- it looked like this room was some sort of storage or industrial kitchen during regular use- was Katya, fiddling with her phone, legs swinging. She glanced up to smile at him, and he found himself grinning back.

"That was amazing!" Aunt May chimed in a sing-song voice as she came back through the curtains, high-fiving Peter.

He shoved a smile on his face. "Yeah, that was so cool, I was so nervous-"

"I felt like I was a little stiff, I felt like I was talking out of pocket." Aunt May wrung her hands off the recoil of the high-five.

"No, I thought you did great!"

Aunt May beamed, but added, "I thought you were a little stiff."

Katya snorted from her place on the table, but didn't look up from her phone- she was probably playing chess again.

"Yeah, er, I felt that too- I felt that too-" Peter played off, shrugging, as if he weren't insulted.

"All right, so you got your passport?" Aunt May checked with him. Peter could see Katya nod over her shoulder, still not looking up- and Aunt May couldn't see her anyway.

"Yep." Peter answered.

"Mini toothpaste?"

"Yep."

"Okay, great-"

The back door opened suddenly and Happy came in, lugging a cartoonishly giant check. Katya'd come with them right after school, so Happy hadn't been around that afternoon yet.

"You know why I'm late?" He sounded like he was trying not to sound winded, but his red face suggested otherwise. "Because they misplaced it-could you imagine, it's huge- the check, I mean, not the amount, although they were very generous-" he handed the check over to Aunt May, who was …giggling? And why did Happy sound so nervous? "Pepper Potts says she's sorry she couldn't be here-" Happy swallowed. "Is that a new dress?"

Aunt May giggled again. "Why yes it is! And you've got a new-" she gestured to her own face.

"Yeah, a beard. I call it my blip beard, because I grew it in the blip. It's a blip beard."

Peter watched this entire exchange like a ping pong match, baffled. The energy between Happy and Aunt May was…unnervingly flirtatious. He glanced over to meet Katya's eyes, but they were still targeted on her phone. He could tell by her smirk, though, that she was listening and thinking much the same thing.

There was a pause.

"I"m gonna go, erm…change the Sterno under the vegan lasagna." Aunt May muttered, and turned to leave abruptly. "Spiderman, go shake hands.".

This time Katya met eyes with Peter and was clearly struggling not to laugh.

Peter looked at Happy. "What just happened?"

Happy faltered for a moment before steamrolling directly over the question, instead lowering his voice. "Heads up, Nick Fury's calling you."

"What? Me? Why?"

"Why? Because he probably has some superhero stuff for you to do, you're a superhero. He calls superheroes."

Peter grimaced. "Yeah, but if it was really that important he'd probably call someone else, not me."

Suddenly Peter's phone began to ring in his backpack. Happy followed him to it to look over his shoulder. "Unknown number- yep, that's him. Answer it."

Peter dropped the phone onto his backpack like it was on fire. "I don't want to answer it."

"You do not ghost Nick Fury."

"Why?"

"Why?! Because then I have to talk to him , and I don't want to talk to him, I'm scared- look, just answer the phone-"

Peter pressed the red 'ignore' button decisively. Happy looked like he'd been slapped. "You sent Nick Fury to voicemail?"

Peter wasn't sure what to say so he just started back towards the stage- "See? They're calling me, I gotta go- I promise I'll call him, I will-" The second the curtains closed behind him he muttered under his breath. "After my trip."

He'd barely cleared the curtains before he was bombarded with reporters, flash photography going off in every direction, and mics shoved to his face. Everyone was speaking at once, and the stimulation was overpowering.

"Okay, okay-" he held his hands out defensively, trying to calm the crowd."One question at a time- you-" he pointed to a reporter, who neared the stage.

"Are you the head Avenger now?"

What? "Er, no, I'm not-"

A different reporter spoke up, "If the Aliens come back, what're you gonna do?"

The camera flashes suddenly seemed brighter, and everything sounded like it was getting louder. Peter was struggling to catch his breath- his throat felt like it was closing. "Does anyone have any neighborhood questions?"

Another reporter pushed their way to the front. "Sean Winton, Queens Tribune. What's it like to take over for Tony Stark? Those are some big shoes to fill."

Everything was still getting brighter, and louder, so loud it was almost a ringing in his ears. Peter began to feel light headed and struggled to take a full breath, or any breath at all, he felt like he couldn't get oxygen to his lungs-

He suddenly felt a hand on his arm begin to tug him away- he glanced down at Katya, who held her other arm over her face to avoid all the flashes. "Erm, I'm gonna go now, but, er, thanks everyone for coming-" he fumbled out as Katya practically dragged him off stage.

Once they'd cleared the curtain, Peter ripped off his hood and braced himself against a table, willing his body to accept oxygen. He'd been in much more chaotic situations before- hell, he'd been through an apocalyptic battle- so why did that seem like so much? What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he-

He felt Katya's hands slip around from behind him, hugging his middle. "It's okay," she mumbled soothingly, "They're idiots. It's okay. You're going to be okay. Breathe diaphragmatically."

"Breathe- what?"

"With your diaphragm, it'll help slow your heartbeat. Breath into my hands." She pushed a little on his lower stomach and he did so, as best he could. It got easier after a couple of tries, and he felt a lot calmer. "Good job," she muttered, and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.

They stood like that for a little bit longer as Peter continued to calm down, before he turned around and took her into his arms. "Thanks," he breathed into her neck, hugging her close. What had he done to deserve her?

They spent the rest of the event on the rooftop, watching the trains of Queens snake in and out of their tracks, until most of the people had dissipated.

"You excited for our trip tomorrow?" Katya bumped her shoulder with his, probably just to make conversation. Peter nodded, exhausted. His phone rang between them- Unknown Number- and he sent it to voicemail.

"He called me twice too, while you were out there." Katya mentioned. "I don't know what he wants with me. I'm not even a superhero. What'd'you think is going on?"

Peter put his head in his hands. "Honestly, I don't know if I really care; we already beat Thanos." and the Avengers are over, he bit back, though he knew she was thinking the same thing. " I really need this vacation- we really need this vacation." He reached down to squeeze her hand. She nodded.

"If the world can keep itself together for that long." She muttered something, in Russian under her breath- it sounded like a curse,and Peter couldn't help but agree with the sentiment.

— —- —-

The next morning, Peter was packing, running through his mental checklist- socks, underwear, shirts, jeans, a nice outfit he'd been told to bring for some reason-"just in case", as if the itinerary wasn't already planned out- before being pegged by a banana to the face.

"I'm so sorry!" May laughed, "I thought you'd be able to feel that with your..." she struggled to find a word. "Peter-tingle."

"Peter-tingle?" Peter heard Katya- she must have just arrived- laugh from down the hall, her voice getting closer as she did. Peter winced.

"Please don't start calling it my Peter-Tingle, Aunt May." He practically begged.

"So what, you can dodge bullets but not bananas?" Aunt May asked skeptically.

"Bananas aren't usually threats." Katya answered for him, appearing in the doorway. She held two different duffel bags, one in each hand. Peter glanced at them and raised an eyebrow.

"Packing heavy, are we?"

Katya shook her head, a small- was that a shy smile?- crossing her face. "No, actually, this is the one for the trip-" she tossed one onto the floor of Peter's room. "And May said I could leave this one here. Since, you know, the compound's empty now and all…" she trailed off, shrugging. Peter's heart leapt. They'd talked about her bringing some of her stuff over before, so she could stay over more often since she lived so far, but hadn't actually gotten around to it yet. And, with Tony gone- and Pepper and Morgan living upstate in that cabin by the woods- he could only imagine how lonely it got there.

"Cool," He said, grinning, "We can just stick that in my closet over there-"

May turned to leave the two of them before stopping in the doorway. "Maybe you should pack your suit. Just in case. I have a…tingle about it."

"Please stop calling it a tingle, Aunt May!" He brushed Katya's hands, which had mockingly begun to tickle the back of his neck, away. He glanced at the suit in his closet before he and Katya exchanged glances. They'd already agreed not to. Once May left, Peter shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm not going to." he said decisively, before closing his suitcase and zipping it up.