Stark And The Spider

Tense

I pull the hood of my hoodie tight around my head, attempting to absorb myself into it. The black cat ears flop on the top of my head. The writing on the back says 'Bad Luck', which pretty much sums up the entire situation.

Even before I walk into the kitchen, I can hear my family arguing about what we should do.

They've been arguing the entire weekend. The. Entire. Weekend. Not a single solid plan has been made up as to what to do. The only plan we have is mine: to just act normal.

I sigh as I walk into the kitchen, the argument growing to its full volume. The perfect thing to wake up to on a Monday morning.

I sit for five minutes, silently eating my waffles, before finally speaking. "Do I get a say in this discussion?" I ask. "Seeing how it is about me and all."

They stop arguing and turn to me. Natasha comes down and sits beside me, rubbing my shoulder. With all of our girl talks, combat lessons, and her and Pepper (and occasionally Wanda) being the only other girls around the house, she could probably see through my confident, sarcastic guard better than anyone. Except maybe my dad.

"Do you have any ideas, (Y/n)?" She asks me gently.

I brace myself for the yelling that I know is about to come, as I meet my father's gaze with my head held high. "I want to be the one to confront him."

"What?!"

They look at me as if I'm insane. Or stupid. Or both. And maybe I am, but I keep my strong expression. "I'm serious. If anyone gets to confront him, it should be me. This is between him and I."

"(Y/n), you can't be serious," Clint says. "That's crazy!"

Natasha glares at him before turning to me. "(Y/n), that's really not a good idea."

"I don't care. You heard what he said about my mom. He's ruining her legacy! And he's putting me, and everyone I care about in danger! I'm not just going to sit around and let him do that!" I exclaim, standing up.

"(Y/n)," my dad says, stone-cold and serious. "You are not to go anywhere near that man. Am I understood?"

"You don't get to make that decision for me!"

"Am I understood?" He repeats.

We have a miniature staring contest, before eventually I give in under his hard stare and shrink back further into my hoodie.

"(Y/n)," Pepper says softly from behind me. She places her hand on my shoulder. "You should start heading to school, or you'll be late. It's probably best that you take the subway, instead of having Happy drive you."

"Alright." I pick up my bag and give her and my dad a hug goodbye.

I start to walk towards the door as my dad calls out, "come straight home after school!"

I groan. "But I was going to buy Christmas presents for my friends!"

"I hope you don't think that you're still going to that party."

"I am still going to that party. You already said I could, I already texted Peter that I could go, I'm going."

"(Y/n)--"

"Goodbye!" I call as I close the door behind me.

..........................................................................................................................

Most people, normal people, have a single train of thought.

Mine is more like seven trains on four tracks, each going a million miles an hour, narrowly missing each other.