Peter watched as June stared at the woman on the screen. There was no shortage of links to research and publications, but June had wasted no time in clicking on the most recent image of Dr. Teresa Santiago Ceballos. June's hand shook as she zoomed in slightly, absorbing every detail she could of her mother's face. It was clear to Peter it had been a headshot for a book with professional lighting and background. The woman had June's kind smile, the same small hook at the bridge of her nose. Her skin and hair were a few shades darker than her daughter's, but the waves were similar. Something about her presence in the image gave an air of the same spirit he sensed in June.

"June?" he asked from his crouched position looking up at her. Her eyes had begun to fill with unshed tears.

"This was the book she'd been working on when she…when it…" her breath halted, "It was never finished." She took a sharp breath and smiled despite her grief, "She finished it here."

June clicked on another link, zooming into an image at the top of the page; a younger version of her mother, clad in shorts and hiking boots, standing in front of a Mayan pyramid. The young Teresa had a carefree look on her face as she slouched casually, her hand in mid-wave. June's brow furrowed slightly as she took in the image.

"That's the Grand Pyramid of Uxmal. In my universe this is a picture of us together," she muttered sadly, "I should be standing just in front of her in a Little Mermaid dress and purple sandals." June scrolled down read through the bio, her brow creasing deeper the further she read.

"What is it?" he asked as his eyes flicked from her face to the screen.

"She…she's amazing. She's published more than twice as many books as she did back home, she's a tenured professor in Mexico City, a guest lecturer at four other universities, she travels all over the world for conferences and digs. I mean…" she shook her head wide-eyed, "all the things she said she wanted to do and more…"

Peter watched June's face, a mixture of awe and sorrow, and he understood. He didn't want to imagine how he would feel in her place, watching as Uncle Ben lived out a seemingly better life without him. Peter could sense the conflicted swell of emotions in his new friend, reached out and held her shoulder.

"What can I do?" he asked. She sniffed, wiping at her eyes and shifted her gaze to him for the first time in several minutes.

"God, I'm sorry. This is just so–"

"No, don't apologize–"

"I feel like I should though. This is a lot–"

"Hey, hey, hey," he said waving his hands, "You're doing a bit of victim blaming here, and as the friendly neighborhood you-know-what, I just can't have that."

She nodded, smiling despite the situation as she dabbed at her eyes again.

"Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe grab something to eat?" he asked softly. She nodded, closing the browser and following Peter to the exit.

June's spirits were lifted tenfold when she steered Peter to one of the only restaurants in New York she was actually familiar with. Of all the things for the multiverse to preserve, June found herself cackling at the sight of her father's favorite shawarma joint. She hadn't had much of an appetite leaving the library, thankful instead for the quiet walk in Peter's company. But seeing the restaurant she had frequented with her dad and Happy, so close to Avengers Tower, filled her with something adjacent to joy. As they ate outside in the comfortable buzz of the lunchtime crowd, she retold the Battle of New York.

"Aliens? An army of aliens?"

"Led by the god of mischief, yes," she confirmed.

"Wow. That's just. I mean theoretically in the abstract I've always known the possibilities of bending space and extraterrestrial life, but to hear that an army of creepy aliens floated through a portal, created by a space stone, into Manhattan led by a Norse god…It must never be a dull moment where you come from! How do you get anything done?"

"Ah, well the bad guys usually take Sundays off. You know, the Lord's day and all," she smirked taking another bite of her chicken.

"That's oddly pious and thoughtful of them," he said as he scrunched up his brow staring off in the direction she had pointed for Avengers Tower.

"And your dad, he just flew a nuke through the portal?" he asked squinting as he tried to picture the image of a metal man with a rocket in his hands.

June nodded. "Yeah, I was watching the whole thing from my T.V. at home. He called me just before he caught it. I didn't realize until after, but I think he was saying goodbye, just in case."

Peter shook his head. "That's nuts. So you watched on live T.V. while your dad and his friends fought aliens and saved the world? How–how do you do life the next day? I mean how are things normal after that?"

"They aren't. It's just like ah yeah, Monday, you know?" she laughed. Peter laughed too, meeting her smile with his, his heart warming that she seemed to understand this weird life they led. "Like I told you, I was already getting a lot of unwanted, awkward attention because people knew my dad was Iron Man. But after New York, it just went to the next level. The Avengers, everyone calls them Earth's Mightiest Heroes. For the most part that's a really cool thing, but then as I'm sure you know, there's always people that wanna put that to the test."

Peter nodded. "I'd like to see your universe one day. I'd like to meet your dad, too, and talk science with him. I think we'd get along and nerd out."

"I can't tell you he'll behave. I've never introduced a guy to my dad," June said before blushing, realizing what she'd said. "Not that you're a guy, I mean obviously you're a guy. My dad's just unpredictable and might think you're a guy sort of guy." She cringed internally at the word vomit spilling all over their lunch.

"No, yeah I get it. I'm happy you think of me as a guy, even if I'm not a guy sort of guy…But I'd still be willing to brave it," he grinned goofily, awkwardness coloring his own face at the implication: I'd be willing to brave it for you.

"What about you?" she asked, eyes darting up suddenly to meet his.

"What about me?" he asked trying to regain his bearings in the conversation.

"Fought anything weird on your end of the multiverse?" June elaborated.

"Umm" he scrunched his face up in thought, "Nah nothing- not anything that won't sound lame by comparison."

"Oh, come on!" she laughed nudging him, "Share."

"Well, there was a lizard man. And a couple of times there was a metal rhino. Last year there was another guy with metal tentacles…," he paused in thought, "Yeah that's about it."

She didn't need her powers to tell her his mind had gone someplace darker, maybe related to the girl in the pictures.

"You feel like stretching your legs? I could use a walk," she said dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. He nodded absentmindedly with a small smile. Ordering one more to take on their walk, Peter followed behind her as they made their way into Central Park. June shivered slightly as they ambled beneath the trees. Peter noticed, shrugging out of his hoody, and handing it to her.

"Here."

"No, I couldn't."

"Come on, your California is showing. Besides, I don't really need it."

"Well, if you insist," she said slipping it over her shoulders, "We don't really have weather in my neck of the woods. Maybe a week of rain once a year, but that's about it. I still forget that's not the case other places."

Peter nodded, clearly still lost in whatever thought had started back in the shawarma place.

"It's on brand for you to help a damsel in distress, I suppose," she joked bumping her shoulder into his. He mustered a slight smile. She sighed, "It's weird. I haven't known you a day and yet I feel like I don't need my powers to know something's bothering you."

His eyes darted to hers suddenly, "You can read minds?"

"Oh yeah. Read, control, manipulate. Eventually I think I'll be able to. Wanda, my friend, can and her powers are very similar to mine. Right now, it takes a lot of concentration to get beyond baseline buzzing," she explained. He stopped a minute, not quite sure how to process the information she'd just shared. "Hey," she said holding his wrist, "I wouldn't though. You know that, right?"

He nodded several times, "Yeah, yeah, no I know that. Of course, I know that. Just kind of a crazy thing to process." His eyes met hers. He could see the concern in her face, worry that he'd somehow think differently of her. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, I know you'd never read my mind," he said maneuvering her hand from his wrist into his own, "I just…my head isn't a good place for anyone to be."

She nodded in understanding. "Whatever it is…it's not your fault…" she said hesitantly.

He smiled sadly, "Ah well…if you knew, you wouldn't say that."

She looked down at their hands, "What was her name?"

He sighed a moment, swallowing hard before answering in a small voice, "Gwen. Her…her name was Gwen."

"Would Gwen agree with me?" she ventured, looking at him expectantly.

Peter smiled a real genuine smile for a brief minute before pursing his lips, "That's beside the point."

June chuckled lightly to herself as she shook her head, "You heroes. I swear. Different universe, same shit."

His eyes widened slightly in disbelief and he laughed incredulously, "Wow. So it's like that, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah it's like that," she laughed along crossing her arms, "I've lost count of the number of existential crises my dad and his friends have had over the years. The number of times they've doubted whether they're really the good guys in all this, whether what they're doing is the right call. And I gotta tell you, for somebody who does as much good as you do, it's kind of a bullshit line of thinking."

"You're a little blunt, you know that?" he said marveling slightly at the small woman before him.

"Yeah, well only when I'm well-fed," she said waving her hand casually. Peter laughed as June grabbed the wrapped-up shawarma from his hand, walking ahead of him down the lane. He watched her go for a moment, perplexed at how easily she had gotten him to pivot from falling into the well of despair he frequented when he thought of it all. He scratched his head, smiled to himself, and followed after the witch in his sweater.