Havoc | Peter Parker ¹ ✓

16 | weaponized

"In..." Tony makes an upward motion with his hand, inhaling through his nose as a demonstration. Lena copies him. She can only last a few seconds until her lungs start to burn. "And out through the mouth."

It takes several minutes of this routine before her breathing returns to normal. Although her lungs no longer feel like they're burning, her muscles are still tense to the point where they're starting to ache.

"I want you to listen to me, take notes if you have to," Tony says, joking in an attempt to alleviate the pain crashing inside of her like a tsunami. "I used to manufacture weapons— you could've called me an expert on them. When you were young, Stark Industries was a harbinger of destruction. It took me almost getting killed by my own creations to make me realize that was a bad thing. Let me tell you something I learned that has helped me through these years of making myself into a better man than I was: you are only a weapon if you choose to be.

"Sure, that's what Mom and Dad wanted you to be, but you know what? Screw them. You've been using your powers for good for nearly a year now. You've proven again and again that you are a hero. A little tragic backstory doesn't change that."

Lena opens her mouth, her voice wobbling and weak to her ears. "I had a brother."

Somehow, that's what makes her break. She's throwing her arms around Tony's neck before she can realize it, embracing him fiercely. She never thought she'd be hugging Tony Stark. She should be running out and seeking the comforting arms of her father. But since Pa doesn't know — can't know — the Iron Man is the only one within reach. The only person she can count on to keep her grounded to this earth.

He pats her on the back somewhat awkwardly. Lena can tell he isn't the greatest with physical contact, but she appreciates the effort. She's staining his shirt with tears that keep on coming. Her entire body wracks with sobs that she uses his shoulder to muffle, her face heating up with the force of the cries.

Pa's unsure knock sounds through the door. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yep," Tony replies in a fake lighthearted tone. "She's just getting emotional."

Lena manages to gather herself enough to release him and lift herself back into her desk chair. The contents of the file had spilled onto the floor after she'd flung herself from it, causing some of the articles and transcripts to crinkle. She watches as Tony silently puts them back into the manila folder.

After he's placed it on her desk among the mounds of art supplies, he hands her a small card. "My personal number," he explains. "Just a phone call away."

After Tony exits her bedroom, Lena can hear him speaking to Pa, their low voices sounding muffled through her door. She sits stone still and worries her bottom lip with his card clutched between her thumb and forefinger. It's only when her hand begins to ache that she realized she's been gripping it too tightly.

Her movements robotic, she pulls her phone out of her back pocket and texts Graham, red.

They have a color coding system for the events that happen in their lives. A green is everything is fine, I just have something I want to tell you. Yellow means something kinda bad happened. Orange is please meet me wherever I am, I may be either emotionally or physically harmed. Red means come as fast as you can because something terrible happened.