Chapter Text
BANG BANG.
You pulled your earbuds out and dragged yourself up to open the door; what the hell did someone want at 8AM? At least you were already up.
Hesitantly, you opened your door- and there stood none other than Tony freaking Stark. Your heart stopped, and your eyebrows furrowed with a mixture of confusion and shock.
"Mr. Stark...?"
"Hey, kid," he bombarded past you into your apartment, curiosity and a bit of anger going through your mind. Did this guy really think he could barge into any place, just because he had money to throw away? Tony turned to face you when he got to the couch, you let the door shut on its own. "Came for a favour, something about- this?"
He lifted his phone screen up so it was right in front of your face. There you stood under a streetlight in Queens at 2AM, your arms stretched out elegantly and danced through the air, controlling water particles with ease, before dropping your form and laughing, continuing on your journey home.
You stared him down, and gulped quietly. "That's not me." You stood up straight and tried to appear pissed off (which you kind of were).
"Bullshit," You were left speechless by his rudeness; his complete and utter lack of respect towards charging into a strangers home in the morning. "Look, kid-"
"My name isn't 'kid', thank you, Mr. Stark. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave my apartment and- well at least call before coming back," You stomped back and opened the door for him to leave the premises. Tony tapped his fingers on the back of his phone and scoffed, scratching the back of his neck. He nodded silently before heading towards where you stood. He donned a 70's pair of yellow glasses and looked you dead in the eyes; he was shorter in real life than on TV, you chuckled in your head at the thought, before remembering the situation you were in.
"(Y/N), don't act the fool. I know what you got, you know what you got. And what you got is brilliant. I didn't mean to insult you by coming here," You looked down at your feet, your trainers still wet from the run you'd just completed. "Just- give me a call, or I'll give you one, I mean either way you're gonna hear from me again, so-"
"OK, Mr. Stark," Your cheeks had turned red. He took another step closer to the door, but stopped.
"Just-," he turned to face you again, sincerity plastered all over his face. "Don't hide your ability. It's a real gift, (Y/N)."
Tony Stark left- and in your hand was his personal business card.
-
Twenty minutes later and you were jumping to grab the spare key to Peter's and Aunt May's apartment on top of the door frame. Frantically, you slotted it in place and opened the door, not caring about it slamming shut.
"Peter! Wake the fuc-" Peter came rushing out of his bedroom, scrambling to get a shirt on over his boxer shorts and bed hair; he was wielding a styrofoam Minecraft sword in one hand and charged at you full force. You screamed and ducked just as the sword whacked the wall behind you. "Peter! It's me, it's (Y/N)!"
You slid yourself away on the wooden floor, adrenaline and a laugh beginning to emerge from inside you. "Is that a, Minecraft swo-"
"(Y/N)? What the fuck is your problem," his voice was muffled as he tried to get his head out of the left arm hole of his shirt, exposing his abdomen and Star Wars patterned boxers even more. "You can't just break into my house." He pulled the shirt over his head and stroked his hair back from his face, gunk still in the corners of his eyes from sleep.
"I didn't break in, you idiot," you got up from the floor and dangled the spare key in front of you, heading to the kitchen to grab some water.
"Why're you here so early, I thought we weren't hanging out till later?" Peter squinted at his wrist watch and blinked a few times. You shut the tap off and gulped down the water. "Jesus," he approached you and squinted some more, you clocked his eyes and furrowed your eyebrows, frowning at him. "Why're you sweating so much-"
"Because I ran here, alright. Can you let me explain please, before you go judging my sweaty body?" He chuckled and scratched his head, his bare feet smacking against the wooden floor dully as he headed back towards his bedroom, chucking the sword on the floor.
"Sure, but I'm gonna get back in bed if that's alright..." he trailed away and yawned, flopping onto his bed and pushing the duvet up to cover himself. You slotted yourself in and leant against the wall, your legs draped over his, which were snug under the covers.
"Tony Stark came to my apartment today." Peter's eyes shot open, wide, and he was back up and sitting facing you.
"He what-"
"He found some CCTV footage of me last week- the image was so blurry you could hardly even make it out but he saw, Peter. He saw me controlling water," you placed your head in your hands and tried to hide back tears.
"(Y/N), I don't mean to be insensitive- I know how you feel about the 'celebrity' aspect of the Avengers, but, did you even stop to think that he wants you on the team?" Peter placed his hand on your shoulder.
"No- I mean, yeah," you blurted out, and looked him in the eyes. "And I don't even know what I'm afraid of, maybe just myself in general?"
"You," he coughed, and his hand squeezed you affectionately, trailing down your arm to find your hand. "You shouldn't be afraid of what you have, (Y/N). I mean I've seen it, and I'm honoured you showed me, and you shouldn't be afraid. Really, you're- amazing." Peter looked you up and down, taking in your scared features and feeling a slight shake spreading across your body. Since you'd both first met each other four years ago, it was clear you were going to get along with each other- enough so for (Y/N) to feel like she could tell you about her abilities and being able to control certain things; such as the elements, and some metals. "Why do you even want to avoid them all- the Avengers I mean. They aren't, all bad are they?" Peter hesitated as soon as he got to his last sentence, guilt travelling through the entirety of his body.
"No, it's not that they're bad- I mean they're the opposite. They save people," you clasped your hand around Peter's and leant back against the wall again. "Not a big fan of that Tony Stark, though, he grinds my gears." the both of you chuckled and it felt good to let go for those fleeting seconds. "I'm scared, of what the public will think of me. I'm not like Spider-Man, you know, who gets to keep his identity secret." Peter's breath hitched in his throat.
"What's- your opinion on the Spider-Man, guy, thing?" Peter watched you bob your head to the side and smile.
"He helps the little guys, that's what I hear at least," your mind reeled and jumped whenever you thought about who Spider-Man could actually be; he operated predominantly in the Queens area, so he had to live somewhere close by, probably. "I don't know, maybe if I met him I'd realise that being an Avenger isn't actually that scary- well, if Stark ever actually wanted me." (Y/N)'s words echoed through Peter's head. Idea alert!
"Which is, very likely, considering he literally came to your house less than an hour ago."
"Aghh, I know!" You tensed your fingers and widened your eyes, only now starting to fully comprehend what the hell had just happened. "Being an Avenger should be, enthralling and thrilling and... well, amazing. You get to save people, you know? Saving people is what I want to do, literally,"
"Oh yeah, how are Med school applications coming along?"
"I can't even think about them right now, to be honest," You shook your head at the strain of too many thoughts bombarding your brain at once. "Be honest, Peter," You looked your best friend of four years in the eye and took a deep breath, composing yourself. "Am I a strong person?"
Peter could have laughed out loud at you asking such a ridiculous question. He simply smiled, furrowing his eyebrows and moving his hand to cup your face. "You're the strongest fucking person I know, (Y/N)," You chuckled and tried to get out of his grip, but he held tight so you couldn't avoid his gaze. "I can honestly say that I would not want to be in a fight against you, ever since you kicked me in the balls after I told Todd that you liked him at Mel's party three years ago."
The laughter came back with a bang, and lasted a good half hour. After, you and Peter made pancakes and watched Full House on repeat. Peter kept sliding glances your way, the guilt etched all over his face like a sketch book. You caught him looking once, but his expression changed in the blink of an eye, and he played it off as if he were looking at your forehead - "You're still sweating so much-," "Shut the fuck up, dumbass!" - what was he hiding?
-
That night, you sat on your bedroom floor, Med school applications and other bits of paper circling you as you tried to focus. All you could think about was Mr. Stark, and you kept glancing at your phone on the other side of your room. Would he call you? Did he really want you just from that one static video of you, supposedly, controlling water so it flew through the air and defied the laws of physics? Well, probably.
It was at this time that you thought about calling your mum for the first time in a year and a half. After moving to Queens when you were fourteen, you spoke occasionally, but still not often enough for it to seem like you were her daughter and she your mother. You'd never truly got along, England had never been the place for you growing up, so when you were contacted by the Midtown School of Science and Technology you thought this was finally it- finally you'd be able to work your way up to being a great surgeon- you'd be on the starting block to learning how to save lives.
Mum didn't approve, dad sided with her due to the fact he was away on business almost all the time, and you left with nothing but a suitcase full of as much of your stuff as you could take, a scholarship to the high school, and an approved place with a foster family living in the borough of Queens, only half an hour away from your school on the subway. This was your future; only you could make it the way you wanted; being held back was not an option when you were literally handed the opportunity on a plate.
On your first day, you'd met Peter Parker. And that was that- the rest was history. Queens was home, and you were glad it was. Never before had you thought you'd be living in New York state when you were fourteen, and now you were eighteen, less than two months away from graduating high school and applying to countless Ivy League colleges to continue your studies.
Your powers had always been a set back in your mind. Where did they come from? You discovered them when you were twelve, but how did you get them? It had been cool to start with, playing around lighting candlesticks with your fingers, and drinking bubbles of water in your room at night, occasionally getting drenched from them falling on you. The earth and nature seemed to gravitate towards you whenever you were near, you could feel it moving beneath the surface. Air swirled around you like a winter scarf and caressed your skin, obeying whatever you wanted it to do. You'd never tried flying though; too much room for error, especially when no one knew about this gift apart from yourself, at that time at least.
Peter was the first person you ever told, and that was also the first time you'd cried in front of him. You were both sixteen, just about to be juniors in high school. Evidently, that was also the first time you'd got drunk. "I'm scared, I don't know what they are or why I have them, I'm so scared, all the time, what if Loki comes for me? What if a bad person finds out-" you collapsed into wracking sobs on the floor of some bedroom in some house at some party, and all he did was hold you tight, not questioning or claiming you were lying. You didn't even have to prove it to him until a week later, when you tried to and failed to catch a glass of water after it slipped, and you simply held the water in the air as the glass smashed, practically unnoticed on the ground due to both of you in shock from the situation.
"That. Was. Awesome." Peter had scooped you up into a hug, totally forgetting the glass on the floor, and his bare feet. That was a long afternoon of tweezing bits of glass from his heels.
To think how far you've come in four years; it's astounding. From an unhappy fourteen year old in England, to someone excelling in something she's wanted her whole life in America - was this the so-called unattainable American Dream that every book written in the 1920's was about?
No, you thought. And you flicked your wrist in small circles, gliding your arm through the air. The water from your glass on the dresser began to float in mid air, moving towards where you sat.
No, you thought. Because in this world, abilities like this aren't a dream.
They'll make you someones target.
Suddenly, your phone rang out loudly from across the room, and the elegant water toppled to the floor, flowing over the various bits of paper from colleges and internships. "Shit, fuck, shit-" Your heart raced as you tried uselessly to pick up the papers to minimise the damage, but you were already on your feet and running to where your phone lay on the desk, buzzing threateningly and sending jolts through your spine on every ring.
You picked it up and locked eyes with the caller ID-
Unknown Number.
You stopped breathing, your eyes filling with tears momentarily, before you stopped yourself and took in a deep breath.
No more running. No more pretending like this side of you doesn't exist, because the fact is it does. If you actually got off your ass and started doing something useful, maybe you could be of help to someone, instead of cowering in fear at the thought of people out there in the world, looking down upon your gift like a gem in a jewellery shop. Do something, (Y/N), god dammit! Fucking do something!
Without hesitating and with strong, capable hands, you clicked the pick up button and placed the phone to your ear, ready for whatever came at you.