FIRST, A NOTE: I WOULD LIKE TO THANK THE GUEST WHO COMMENTED ON CHAPTER 45, AND ScarletWitch FOR THEIR COMMENTS AND FOR INSPIRATION FOR SOME IDEAS TO INCORPORATE ;P

I walk into the penthouse, expecting to find it empty, but was instead surprised when I saw several Avengers sprawled about, clearly having some sort of intense discussion. Uncle Bucky and Steve were both conspicuously absent. Peter noticed me first, eyes widening into a bit of a guilty expression before he looked away. Dad caught the movement and looked up, his brow furrowing.

I instantly regretted using the front door as everyone else turned to look at me as well, the conversation silencing.

I gave a small wave, and an awkward, "Hey, everyone. Sorry for interrupting, I'll just…head to my room." I beelined for the other side of the room but was interrupted as Dad stood up, crossing his arms, "What part of 'Clint is taking you home' did you take to mean you could ditch him and come home on your own?"

I felt my cheeks redden, embarrassed to be getting called out in front of all the Avengers (even if they were all trying to make it seem like they weren't paying attention). How could he do this in front of an audience?

I crossed my own arms and stared back at him, "You said the threat was over. I figured the escort was no longer necessary."

"I never said that meant you could travel alone!"

"Well, you never said it didn't either!"

"I shouldn't have had to!"

"Oh yeah, well clearly, you did, it's called COMMUNICATING. It goes like this, 'I'm done with this conversation, I've had enough happen today—which by the way, there's some things I need to talk to you about," I glanced meaningfully at the still awkwardly nonchalant Avengers witnessing this whole exchange and emphasized, "alone— but right now, I'm going to my room.' —See not that hard!"

He huffed, pinching his nose between his fingers, "Y/N—"

"Going. To. My. Room. Work on your listening skills too."

I bolted, pausing only for a second when I got to my room before deciding screw it and slamming the door with enough force to shake the picture frames on my wall.

Left alone in the silence, I exhaled, the flare of my temper already fading. I hadn't liked the audience for Dad's small chiding, but had apparently decided to give them a full-on show instead!

Why was I like this? I groaned and faceplanted onto the bed.

It was then that I realized that there had been no follow-up knock on my door. Usually whenever Dad and I had a spat, he came after me instantly. I shifted to a sitting position on my bed and stared at the door, suddenly feeling a bit hollow. Had I pushed it too far this time?

I stood up and started pacing, wringing my hands. I already had to tell Dad I'd failed a major biology assignment, and that our secret was under threat…and that I had a date planned. All things that he would not like to hear, though I smiled briefly thinking of my encounters today with Taylor.

And now he would already be mad when I had to tell him this stuff… this was not going to be a fun conversation.

Maybe I shouldn't tell him about Taylor for now. I nodded to myself. I should tell Rose first anyways.

I glanced at the door again.

Maybe the Avengers stuff was a conversation he couldn't walk away from?

I looked up at the ceiling—a habit I was never able to break even though I knew it made no difference to FRIDAY where I looked, "FRIDAY, is my dad still at the Avengers meeting?"

"No, he has gone to his workshop."

"To work on something for the Avengers?"

"No, Y/N."

Oh.

I sat on the bed, curling my arms over the pit in my stomach.

I guess I may as well do my homework. And maybe review Biology.

I finished everything I needed to get done for the next day, which felt like it took an eternity since I was checking the clock every few minutes wondering if Tony would show up.

I could feel that familiar panic rising in my chest, the one that made me feel like I needed to get out of this place. But Dad was probably already mad enough—and would likely be even more mad later. I couldn't add breaking out of the tower again. I sighed and grabbed a blanket. Next best thing it was.

I headed to the short staircase that would take me upwards, cautiously peeking my head around corners as I went to make sure no one was around, quickly making my way to the rooftop garden.

I headed for a bench surrounded by bushes, with the bare branches of cherry trees reaching overhead. The temperature had dropped more than I had expected, but I didn't feel like going back for another blanket so I just wrapped myself up in the one I had and curled up on the bench, staring up at the darkening sky—well, what I could see of it through the clouds. I shivered slightly, I guess I wouldn't be out here for too long. It wasn't even dinner time yet, so the city below was wide awake, evidenced by the sirens and horns that punctuated the silence around me.

I laid there for awhile, breathing in the fresh air and letting it calm me down. After awhile, I didn't even feel the cold anymore. Guess I acclimated, plus it WAS pretty warm inside my blanket cocoon. The light breeze picked up a bit, ushering in more clouds, and soon it began to lightly snow.

I knew I should probably head inside—I had no idea how long it had been now, but I was cozy enough and it felt like too much effort to unravel my wrappings and walk back to my room. Just a few more minutes, then I would go.

The wind blew harder, swirling the snow around in the air, it was so mesmerizing, and so I stayed a bit longer to watch, and before long I could feel my lids getting heavy. A nap did sound nice…