✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
"(Y/N)!"
She heard her name getting called with a tone of worry and urgency, spotting Kiara and May over the crowd of parents piling up to receive their children with a tight hug after they heard about the accident. The bus had taken them back safely into Queens, deep into the school as the students met with their parents.
Kiara left May's side and rushed to embrace her girl in a tight hug, feeling how her own muscles eased down as she held (Y/N) close to her. She had gotten out of work easily after hearing the news, wanting to see if she was safe.
"You're okay, you're okay," Kiara muttered under her breath as she cradled the back of (Y/N)'s head in an affectionate manner.
She then pressed a kiss on her temple and pulled away to see (Y/N) closely, her eyes squinting in confusion when she saw a small bruise on her forehead and a cut on her cheek.
"What's this?" Kiara asked.
"I watched the whole thing from below, and glass fell on me," (Y/N) thought that wasn't a good lie, but she let out a quiet sigh of relief when she seemed to believe it.
"Mmm," Kiara rubbed her hands on (Y/N)'s shoulders. "Let's go home. I have some freshly baked cookies waiting for us there."
(Y/N) felt all of her worries wash away and nodded at the request, feeling relieved that no matter how hard her duties were growing, she'll have Kiara waiting for her to arrive back home for the rest of her life.
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
ON MONDAY, (Y/N) walked through the busy hallways of the Midtown School building with a lowered head as she heard the school news being told by two students and classmates of hers.
"This past weekend, Midtown's Academic Decathlon team defeated the country's best to win the national championship," Jason Ionello spoke up first. "Later that day, they also defeated death."
"Explosion. Sally scream. Flash scream. Everybody screaming," Abraham dramatically explained when he came on the screen.
Charles was next, leaning on the back of an ambulance. "There were purple lasers and smoke. It was **** tight, like a Bon Jovi concert."
"As you know, we made it out alive, and that's the important thing. I couldn't bare to lose a student on a school trip," Mr. Harrington said with crossed arms, standing in front of a bus. "Not again."
"Thankfully, no one was seriously injured thanks to the Spider-Man and Blue Dame."
(Y/N) lifted her head towards the screen glued to the upper part of the school's wall and saw how people were listening closely with smirks and smiles on their faces, sharing a knowing look with Peter beside her.
"Up next: the Spider-Blue mania is sweeping the school. How can you show your blue and spider spirit?"
The school bell rang and everyone began piling up in groups to move on their respective classes, the hallways getting emptied away as Ned approached the duo as they walked down the stairs.
"Dude, dude, dude," Ned began. "What is it like being famous when nobody knows it's you?"
"Crazy, dude," Peter breathed.
"It's insane," (Y/N) mumbled under her breath, trying in not rising any suspicion as students walked past her.
"It's crazy," Ned agreed. "Should we tell everyone?"
"No," (Y/N) and Peter responded at the same time, the cheerful expressions dropping off.
"Should I tell everyone?"
"No, dude. That's not a good idea," Peter shook his head, playing with the straps of his backpack as a habit he was already used to do.
"Okay, come on, we'll be late for class," Ned pointed behind him, signaling to the classroom.
"We're not going to class," (Y/N) winced.
"You're already in so much trouble for ditching the decathlon," Ned protested, turning back to her.
"Dude, listen, we figured it out," Peter backed her up and walked up to him, lowering his tone since there was still people around. "The wing suit guy is stealing from Damage Control. What he takes from Damage Control, that's how he builds the weapons. So all we gotta do is catch him."
"But we have a Spanish quiz," Ned argued.
"Ned, I'm probably never gonna come back here," Peter continued, and that's what made (Y/N) turn to him with a frown, realizing he was changing the topic.
"Mr. Stark is moving the Avengers upstate, so when we bring this guy in — "
"But we're not Avengers, remember?" (Y/N) pointed out. "We just have to fix this problem quickly so it doesn't go on for much longer."
"Dude," Ned cut her off. "You want to be a high school dropout?"
"I am so far beyond high school right now," Peter answered as he walked backwards, stopping in his tracks when he spotted someone standing behind him.
It was the principal, a neutral look on his face while his hands were glued to his hips, not offering any kind of greeting before he said what he was there for.
"Parker, Schmidt. My office."
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
"SO, you got detention," the image of Captain America came into the screen of the box TV, sitting on a chair and staring directly into the camera. "You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong."
(Y/N) had a hand pressed against her forehead as she listened to the video go on, shifting on her seat to find a comfortable spot in the stool. She and Peter were stuck there for skipping classes and the decathlon, which led them into having detention with Coach Wilson.
"The question is, how are you gonna make things right? Maybe you were trying to be cool."
MJ was there too, simply drawing on her sketch book without paying much attention to people around her. After a few minutes, she passed a paper to (Y/N) and signaled her to open it to see what was inside. It was a drawing of herself.
Looking back at MJ, (Y/N) offered a thankful smile and stuffed the drawing carefully into her backpack, pretending to ignore the questioning look she was receiving from Peter, who was two seats in front of her.
"Thanks, but why did you do it?" (Y/N) whispered to her friend. "You don't even have detention."
"I love to come here and draw people in crisis," MJ shrugged.
But take it from a guy who's been frozen for 65 years. . . the only way to really be cool is to follow the rules."
Not taking it anymore, Peter stood up from his seat and walked out of the detention room without looking back, not before he shot (Y/N) a look to follow him. She sighed, grabbed her bag and rushed out of the room after counting on her head more than five seconds, to not make it seem too obvious. She barely heard the lazy and faint call Coach Wilson gave her and walked away.
Peter looked around before leaning down to grab onto the lockers in the wall, effortlessly sliding up a small compartment where he did web fluid for the shooters and the old suit.
"Okay, what now?" (Y/N) crossed her arms.
"You go home, if I find something, I'll come and find you," Peter tossed the web fluid from one hand to the other as he answered.
And that's exactly what she did, (Y/N) ran back to the apartment building and silently prayed that Kiara had gone out for work and that her home was empty. The last thing she needed right now was to lie once again to her.
(Y/N) grabbed her keys and twisted it on the keyhole, the door opening with ease and she was about to let a loud sigh of relief, her back against the living room and kitchen as she did her best to shut the door closed without any noise. She was ready to let her guard down, until someone clearing their throat made her jump.
Kiara was leaning on the kitchen counter with a glass of wine in hand, a raised eyebrow directed at her when she noticed that she was back from school. That was the least of (Y/N)'s concerns right now, she had noticed that Kiara wasn't alone in the room.
A man with a peculiar haircut and beard stood highly in the kitchen of the apartment, setting the glass of wine carefully back in the counter as he acknowledged the new presence in the room. He seemed nice, but his tall and lean figure gave out the impression that he was much more than that.
"Back from school so early?" Kiara broke the silence. "How was the Spanish quiz?"
"Uh, yeah, about that. It was good, nothing for you to worry about," (Y/N) answered awkwardly and searched for the right words. "Who's this?"
The man and Kiara locked eyes, a hint of nervousness in them before she faced (Y/N) back again, not even trying hard to hide the wave of emotions washing over her.
"Oh, that's — "
"Stephen. Stephen Strange," the man introduced himself with an extended hand, politely greeting (Y/N) with a professional smile.
"You must be (Y/N). Kiara's told me a lot about you," Stephen continued, moving back to join the woman beside him, who seemed to be dreading this moment.
"I. . ." (Y/N) remembered the conversation she'd eavesdropped about someone with the same name and Kiara a few weeks ago. This wasn't a coincidence, it was the same person.
"I'm so confused," (Y/N) shifted on her feet. "I'm. . .are you two, you know. . .?"
"We're getting there," Kiara replied this time. "Though this wasn't the way I was planning for you to find out."
She moved away from the kitchen and advanced towards (Y/N), grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and rubbing them affectionately, like she always did. Kiara offered a smile and a small squeal of joy.
"I've wanted to tell you as soon as possible," she reassured silently. "He joined my workspace a few months ago."
"That's good, Kia. I'm happy for you."
This seemed to ease her nerves, since the tension in her shoulders dropped and Kiara offered a genuine smile. (Y/N) could already see the small glint in Stephen's eye when she saw him looking at Kia join his side, it was hard to miss.
"Why don't you go change? We can go out for dinner later," Kiara suggested.
(Y/N) winced at the request and the feeling of guilt returned to her stomach, tightening a knot. "I have some homework to finish. Maybe you can go ahead."
She didn't stay to hear the response and rushed to her room, the routine she was already used to do everyday. (Y/N) closed the door behind her and threw her backpack to the bed, still trying to process what had just happened.
(Y/N) rummaged through her stuff to find her suit and decided to change, not knowing if Peter could barge on any moment through her window with new intel on their problem; and she was right.
"(Y/N)?" Peter's familiar voice alarmed her, reacting quickly and using her telekinesis to lift the closest object around her and throw it at him out of instinct.
"Whoa! Easy there, it's just me," Peter moved the stapler away from his face and got inside the room.
"Oh, my god. How many times have I told you to not do that," (Y/N) scolded.
"And how many times have I told you that I don't care? It's funny to scare you," Peter replied back,
getting comfortable on the bed.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes. "Anyway, did you find something new, bug boy?"
"Arachnid," Peter corrected. "But yeah, I did."
(Y/N) signaled him to continue on, wanting to listen to what he had supposedly discovered. He stood up from the bed and placed his hands on his hips confidently before talking.
"Remember the man at the bridge? The one that was nearly shot?" he asked.
"Yeah?"
"I found him. Let's pay him a visit."
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
IN A QUIET parking lot, the man Aaron Davis innocently walked up to his grey, small car and opened the trunk to place the grocery bag inside, not noticing anyone around him, especially the two masked teens sneaking up to surprise him.
Peter shot a web directly at his hand, getting stuck to the car's trunk as Aaron jumped back from surprise and saw the approaching figures.
"Remember us?" Peter questioned, his voice being modified by the Enhanced Interrogation Protocol, which made his voice deeper.
"Hey — "
"I need information. You'll give it to me now."
"All right, chill."
"We don't have time to play games, come on," (Y/N) followed behind him, trying to sell the impression that she wasn't much interested, but she innocently played with mist in her hands.
"What happened to your voice?" Aaron frowned, his eyes set on Peter once he gulped down his nerves from seeing the blue mist in (Y/N)'s hand.
"What do you mean what happened to my voice?" Peter inquired.
"I heard you on the bridge. I know what a girl sound like," Aaron shrugged.
"I'm not a girl. I'm a boy. I mean, I'm a — I'm a man," Peter stuttered on his words, the deep tone making it way weirder than normal.
"I don't care what you are, a boy, a girl — "
"I'm not a girl. She's the girl," Peter pointed over to (Y/N), who was finding the whole situation entertaining. "I'm a man."
(Y/N) decided it was time to step in, and she tilted her head to the side slowly, her eyes glowing a faint shade of blue as she fixed her gaze on Aaron.
"Who's selling these weapons? We have to know," she insisted.
Aaron seemed to consider answering, shifting uncomfortably under her glare but decided to stay quiet and shut the trunk of his car abruptly, making Peter jump back in surprise and (Y/N) to remain on her spot.
"You ain't ever done this before, huh? Obviously, she's has," Aaron said.
Peter sighed. "Deactivate Interrogation Mode."
His voice returned back to normal and he tried to start again. "Look, man. These guys are selling weapons that are crazy dangerous. They can't just be out on the streets. If one of them can cut Delmar's Bodega in half — "
"You know Delmar's?" Aaron cut him off.
"Yeah, best sandwich in Queens."
"Sub Haven's pretty good," Aaron added.
"It's too much bread," (Y/N) shook her head in disagreement, her eyes returning back to normal as she stood up on her full height from leaning on the car.
"I like bread," Aaron protested.
"Come on, man, please," Peter pleaded before giving up, turning his back on Aaron and (Y/N). "Stupid Interrogation Mode. Karen, don't ever do that again."
"The other night, you told that dude, 'If you shoot somebody, shoot me'," Aaron began, making Peter stop in his tracks. "It's pretty ballsy."
"I don't want those weapons in this neighborhood. I got a nephew who live here."
"Who are these guys?" Peter asked again. "What can you tell us about the guy with the wings?"
"Other than he's a psychopath dressed like a demon, nothing," Aaron shook his head. "I don't know who he is or where he is."
(Y/N) and Peter shared a disappointing sigh.
"I do know where he's gonna be."
"Really?"
"Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with. . .he's supposed to be doing a deal with him," Aaron explained.
"Yes! Yes!" Peter celebrated and began to walk away, making (Y/N) jump up and try to stop him.
"Easy there, bug boy. He hasn't told us where yet," (Y/N) called him back.
"Yeah, my bad. Silly. Uh — " Peter whirled around and joined her side instantly. "Where is it?"
"Can I offer you some advice?" Aaron suggested. "You gotta get better at this part of the job."
"I don't understand," Peter leaned back on the car and crossed his arms, pretending to act uninterested. "I'm intimidating."
"You're not. She is," Aaron pointed at (Y/N) before continuing. "Staten Island Ferry, 11."
"That's soon, we gotta go," (Y/N) muttered to Peter.
He nodded and they both began to walk away from the car and Aaron, not before Peter turned back to say one last thing. "That's gonna dissolve in two hours."
"No, no, no. Come fix this."
"Two hours. You deserve that."
"I got ice cream in here."
"You deserve that. You're a criminal. Bye, Mr. Criminal."