NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE ∙ Peter Parker

✸ Chapter Thirty-Two: Survivor's Guilt

"I cleaned all your laundry for the trip, and your clothes for today's conditioning are set up on the couch. Dad ran to the corner store and got you a few drinks with electrolytes. Made some hash-browns and waffles in the kitchen," Sophia continued, ticking off her to-do list for her daughter like she wasn't currently decomposing. "Make sure you brush your teeth."

Lizzie finally pulled her face out of the water long enough to wipe it with her hands, opening only one eye to face whatever sight her mom could be that morning. Sammy was not present, but a laundry basket, and Sophia Carter looked significantly less upset than her daughter expected. Concern had its hold on her features, but those expressions had been carving out in wrinkles since June.

"Thanks, Ma."

"I called in a favor at work and ran those plates."

Lizzie froze, and when she realized what had happened, she sighed and leaned her body against the side of the sink. "Dad's a traitor."

"Sorry, baby. Been your dad's partner-in-crime for twenty-six years now. Can't blame him," her mother smiled knowingly, and she couldn't even be upset anymore. Not like she was very surprised, either. "They came up clean. Not government, and not anything that we've noted under advisement to be stolen or suspicious. That doesn't mean I don't believe you or think it's weird, so I'm driving you to practice today, and then I'll pick you up—this isn't house arrest, before you get mad at me. You can still go to D.C...I just wish you felt like you could have called me."

Lizzie ducked her head to the ground, glancing at her bare feet. That was when she'd remembered what had happened, and the throbbing became more apparent now that she was awake. "It's not that. I just...I need this trip. I need to go to D.C., Ma. I need...something—to let go of that place...or to have a normal experience there...I don't know. I was just worried you were going to tell me I can't go back. It's not like you had a great reaction the first time."

Two images, in particular, burned into her daughter's head of Sophia Carter showing rather than screaming her disapproval in 2013 were as followed: (one) the woman throwing a cast-iron skillet at the director of S.H.I.E.L.D, Nicholas J. Fury requested Lizzie's help on a mission; (and two), her taking the Warm Autumn Evening Yankee candle and setting the birthday card on fire from said Nicholas J. Fury a few days before her thirteenth birthday. Lizzie felt that justified being worried.

"I'm not going to lie and say your father didn't have to talk me into it. I just need you to see it from my perspective here," and like expected, Lizzie pursed her lips because she already knew her mom's script. Sophia clocked it. "You can't close off and refuse to hear me out just because you think you know already, MJ. That's not how this works. I'll be honest with you if you're honest with me."

Lizzie conceded, another wave of guilt at her actions. "I'm sorry."

"You left this home days after you turned thirteen, and you are my baby, Lizzie. You will always be my baby, no matter how tall you get or how old you are. Sharon and I had a difficult relationship after she left at eighteen, you know that, but losing her like that...it's a feeling I can't explain...and I knew what it felt like already, so putting myself through that again...I worried, every day, when I didn't get a call. Then, I did. I got the call—and my babies were hurt, and I was too far away to get to you two. To protect you. I did the one thing that I, as a mother, promised myself I would never let happen. I don't forgive myself for that."