teen spirit|| peter parker [1]

five

Naturally, I'd already decided to completely ignore his instructions before the order had even finished tumbling out from between his lips and through the flexible fabric of his mask.

I watch in astonishment as he flips through the air with ease and lands gently on top of a tug. My lips twitch into a smirk as he holds Steve's shield effortlessly in his arms, the traditional blue and red colour scheme matching Peter's suit impeccably. I suppose for a teenager from Queens, this would be a pretty distinctive moment in his life. I think for any teenager, this would be a pretty distinctive moment in their life. That shield is heavy, really fucking heavy.

"Holy shit, Parker," a bewildered gasp parts my lips as I watch in anticipation, my eyes drinking in the scene and feeding my pounding heart. My lips curl into a smile as my gaze casts upon Steve's wrists, which are bound in manacles formed by Peter's webs, restraining him.

"Nice job, kid," my father praises him.

Any sort of veneration I had for Peter is fleeting, as his rambling and conversing during such an important fight, causes my eyes to practically roll out the back of my head.

"Thanks! Well, I could have stuck the landing a little better, it's just... new suit," his familiar rambling soon returns as he furiously explains himself, not wanting to be perceived as rude or ungrateful, "It's nothing, Mr Stark. It's perfect. Thank you."

"Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation,"Tony sighs in irritation, clearly sharing my annoyance as well as the slight weakness for Peter's need to always do good.

"Okay. Cap- Captain." My insides cringe and fold within themselves as he salutes Steve, his awkward demeanour residing as usual. "Big fan. I'm Spider-Man."

"Yeah, we'll talk about it later," Tony snaps slightly at Peter before returning his focus onto the issue at hand.

"Hey, everyone." Peter gives the team a final wave, before abruptly fading to silence. I could imagine his cheeks flushing crimson underneath the bright red fabric of his mask.

I fiddle with the daggers secured to my thigh in order to distract myself and anxiously run my fingertips across the engraved iron handles. I think I'm most nervous that I'm going to mess up and cause something truly awful to happen, or that Dad is going to go ballistic. Which, he most likely will. I suppose I should have thought that part through a little more in depth.

It's a mission. It's a mission.

I am in control of my mind.

"I'm trying to keep," Tony sighs exasperatedly, "I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart." His voice cracks slightly, and my heart aches in my chest.

"You did that when you signed," Steve bites back.

My hands curl into a fists at my sides, my palms turning sticky as my nails dig crescent-moon indentations into my skin. I feel around and grip my dagger for reassurance and discard Peter's earlier instructions to wait until the fighting has inevitably begun; that way we theorised I could slip in without my father noticing and have Peter cover me the majority of the time to make sure I don't get hurt, by the time Dad eventually sees me, the fight will most likely be over and there'll be no real reason for him to be infuriated with me. Though I'm positive that I'd not be the one getting hurt.

I quietly slide out from my crouched position by the tug and march towards my father's side, feeling Peter's eyes glaring at me the whole time. I flicker my gaze to him, as he shakes his head at me vigorously, signalling for me to stop approaching the group and resume crouching in my hiding position.

"Bonnie? What are you doing here?" Steve notices me first, as he tears his blank glare away from Tony.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Come home, Steve. Are you all just here over some disagreement? Because, Steve, you're obviously wrong and not thinking straight," I announce into the empty air that stings my lungs whenever I inhale.