Chapter Twenty - The Train Ride

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"I can't believe I gave Beck those glasses." Peter said, pulling the curtains across the windows of his hotel room. "I mean, how can I be so stupid? He's probably spying on me right now or sending a drone to come and kill me."

Clara idly watched as he rushed around the room, typing something in a green window on his laptop before a red lock icon appeared on screen and he closed the lid. "You had access to killer drones?" MJ asked.

"Look," Peter said, moving on from her question. "I have to call Mr. Fury and tell him that Beck's a fraud, but I think he tapped my phone."

"Okay, so what are you gonna do?" MJ asked, looking down at the phone.

"I need my suit, and I have to go to Berlin, and talk to Mr Fury in person." He told them, tipping the contents of his backpack onto his bed and pulling his suit from the pile. He shrugged his hoodie off and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Oh, uh, I'll just." MJ turned to face the other way.

Peter looked at Clara expectantly, the girl standing with a blank expression. "What?" She asked. He looked down at himself. "Oh, right." She said, turning away. The door swung open, Ned looking between the three students.

"Oh, Ned. Perfect." Peter said, now dressed in his stealth suit.

Ned looked wide-eyed at the student, seeing the suit but also the others occupying the room. "The costume looks great! For... For the costume party... At the prince's castle..." Clara arched an eyebrow in his direction.

"She knows. I told her." Peter explained.

"He didn't tell me. I figured it out." MJ corrected him, a smug grin on her face.

"Oh. That's cool." Ned looked at Clara dubiously and she shrugged.

"Like, a long time ago." MJ added.

Peter interrupted her gloating to talk to Ned. "Look, Mysterio was a fraud."

"But he saved mine and Betty's lives..."

"No, he's been faking the whole thing with illusion tech." Clara interjected.

"Yeah, he's using these, like, hologram projectors." MJ held up the metal object.

"Whoa. That's crazy." Ned told them. "So, you guys were like, working the case together, or what?"

"Look, Ned, I need you to call May, get her to call Mr. Harrington, say that she wanted me to stay with family in Berlin until this all blows over. Okay?" Peter rattled off.

"Got it. Easy." Ned nodded.

"Wow. You guys lie with such ease." MJ stated.

"Gotta go." Peter made for the window, head thumping against a purple light as he tried to jump out.

"Er, where do you think you're going?" Clara asked.

"To... To Berlin, I just said." Peter frowned, pushing a hand against the barrier, waiting for Clara to remove it.

"And you expect me to follow you out of the window?" She folded her arms over her chest.

"You're coming with me?" He asked. "You can't, it's too-"

"If you were about to say, 'it's too dangerous', I swear to God-"

"Wait, why would you go with him?" Ned asked.

"Oh, right. Seen as MJ knows, and you know about Peter anyway..." She trailed off, disappearing from view. Ned looked around the room, as if she had teleported to another spot. "That's why." Clara said, reappearing a foot away from Ned, the teenager jolting in surprise.

"Woah..."

"Peter, I'm like a human drone detector, you might need me." He seemed hesitant but eventually nodded.

"Fine. But you are coming out of the window."

Clara laughed, walking towards the door. "No, I'm not. And we're catching a train."

~

Peter tapped his foot impatiently on the train's floor. "Peter?" Clara said, pulling his attention to her. He looked over, surprise on his face as if he had forgotten she was there. "If you don't stop that right now, I'll make you walk to Berlin."

"Sorry." He stopped tapping his foot. "Do you not think people are going to find it suspicious that I'm wearing this?"

Clara looked over the empty carriage. "Like who? Just relax. Put your mask on before we leave but make sure you're out of sight from the cameras."

"Okay, but what about..." He pointed to Clara's hands, a soft glow emanating from them.

She shrugged. "I'll find some purple gloves to try and hide it. Though, if I'm walking around with 'Night-Monkey', they'll probably be paying more attention to him."

"Where are you gonna get gloves?" Peter asked.

"I don't know, Peter, I haven't memorised the streets of Germany off by heart." She sighed, looking passed Peter and out of window, biting her bottom lip.

"You okay?" He said, tapping her leg with the back of his hand to pull her out of the daydream she had tripped into.

"Yep. Just... Do you know where the Europol Headquarters are? Or how we're going to find Fury? Or what we're going to do if Beck's drones find us first?" She looked up at him, Peter sitting an inch taller than she was.

Peter looked away from her, the mention of the drones sending his head spinning. "God, I'm an idiot."

"Peter..." She warned him, trying to stop him falling into a pit of self-hatred.

"I didn't even check his files!"

"I'm sure Fury would've when they met." She reassured him.

"That's not the point." He snapped, the action out of character for him and it made Clara flinch. "Mr Stark trusted me, and I didn't even check his files."

Clara reached a hand out, setting it on top of Peter's clenched fist. "Mr Stark knew you, Peter. He wouldn't have expected a high school student to get through all this without making at least one mistake."

Peter watched as the warm light wrapped around his gloved hand. "It was a huge mistake though. We aren't talking forgetting to take food out of the oven here; I handed over a multi-million-dollar system that gives Beck the ability to destroy cities and send out drone strikes on whoever he wants."

Clara sighed, tightening her grip on Peter's hand, the boy relaxing his fist and allowing Clara to thread her fingers through his. "It'll all work out fine."

"What makes you say that?" He asked, his eyes meeting hers again. She watched him searching for something, and he seemed to find what ever it was, a smile twitching at his lips.

"I don't know." Clara shrugged, looking down at their intertwined hands. "I've just got a good feeling about this."

"What other languages can you speak?" Peter asked, twisting the topic away from Quentin Beck's schemes.

Clara frowned, wondering what had made him ask that. "English, obviously. You know I can speak Italian. Um... There's also German, Spanish – but I learnt that in school, not from living there, same goes for French-"

"You learnt two languages in school while travelling?" Peter injected.

"Yeah, I just pick up on them pretty quickly. And I speak a little Mandarin, but I couldn't wrap my head around it and got frustrated and quit learning." She answered truthfully, resting her head back against the cushioned seat.

"Not many, then?" He replied with a grin.

"Nah, not that impressive, is it?" She laughed, gently nudging him with her elbow. "Look's like we're here." She sat up, pulling her hand away from Peter and standing as the train began to slow.

Peter let out a deep blast of air, anxiety running through him. "Let's do this."

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