[BOOK 2 OF THE HAVOC SERIES]
❝i don't like you because
you're spider-man. i like
you and you just happen
to be spider-man.❞
in which lena santos just
wants a break, but nick
fury has other plans for her
and her friends.
[ spider-man: far from home...
┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐ chapter fifteen A FISHERMAN'S TALE └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
LENA'S BODY JOLTS BEFORE she's fully awake, chest rising upward as a cough bursts from her mouth. A pair of hands hurriedly turn her onto her side so she doesn't choke. Through bleary vision and half-squinted eyes, she watches water and saliva splatter into a puddle on the ground— or whatever hard surface she's lying on. The force of the ejection spreads an ache throughout her heaving chest as she greedily sucks in oxygen to soothe her burning lungs.
"Sie ist wach," a man's voice says in German.
Lena hears footsteps, but all she can see is a rusty floor and what looks like a net near her head. She faintly feels the sensation she's rocking back and forth. Once all of the water has left her lungs and her coughing fit ceases, she takes a moment to catch her breath and blinks hard to clear her eyesight.
She's freezing. Surprisingly, her wig had stayed on, causing the silver plastic strands to be plastered to her face and neck uncomfortably. Her suit sticks to her like a second layer of skin, waterlogged and heavy when she tries to prop herself up on one elbow. Her teeth chatter as she shivers and sluggishly turns her head.
The first person she notices is a middle-aged man with copper-colored hair and similarly-colored stubble. His dark sunglasses cover his eyes, but his lined forehead is wrinkled with worry as he stares down at her. Judging by how he's crouched over her, he must have been the one to turn her onto her side.
"Geht es dir gut?" he asks in a gruff yet concerned tone.
Lena stares at him, half-blinded by the sunlight reflecting from his white shirt. She can see her reflection in his sunglasses. The sight of herself makes her cringe; she's paler than she's ever seen, and the way her wig is plastered to her cheeks makes her look like a drowned rat.
"I don't..." she manages to say, speaking slowly through labored breaths. Her voice sounds throaty and raw. "I don't speak German."
"American?" the man questions with a surprised raise of his eyebrows. When Lena nods, he continues in a fairly thick accent, "How did you get here? Family holiday?"
Lena doesn't know how to possibly explain that she's a super-powered teenager who was nearly drowned by the very man who's being hailed as a hero by the news, nor that she has no idea what the hell she is supposed to do now. She doesn't know where Peter and Graham are — or if the latter is even alive. She'd left her cell phone at the hotel. Even so, who would she call?
"Paul," another man's voice speaks. When the copper-haired guy turns around, the second man holds a cell phone up to his face. This person is tall and less rugged-looking than his comrade. His blond hair is gelled away from his youthful face, his outfit of a long-sleeved shirt and jeans making him appear more put-together. Paul looks like he'd just rolled out of bed.
