Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-So, how was school?-

Michelle Jones threw a death glare at the ancient looking object sitting innocently on her bedside table. It had a soft, worn leather cover with the image of a bronze flower pressed into it. It's spine was decorated with faded silvery constellations, Cygnus, Orion, Ursa Major, and countless others she didn't recognize. A silky bookmark that once used to be purple rested between it's yellowing, torn pages, with the same silver stars dotting the tips. It looked mysterious, beautiful, but the same time unassuming. Like it could be tucked away into the shelves of a library and remain unnoticed for the rest of eternity. And MJ liked that about it, it's why she got it for her birthday. It was interesting. But that was until she found out that it was sentient.

-Don't look at me like that. I was curious.- The book chided gently in her mind. How she wanted to return it. But she didn't have the heart. After all, her hard working mom had come home from her endless business trips that normally droned on for weeks just to take her to the store to pick something out. She'd even said that she loved MJ's choice once they'd made the purchase. She couldn't give it back now.

-Aren't you going to answer me?-

"School was fine," MJ said with the most indifferent tone she could summon. "That’s always going to be my answer. Now, I have homework. Could you leave me alone for today?" She pulled a folder filled with sheets of crumpled paper labeled "ALGEBRA" in sharpie to prove her point.

-Come now, did anything interesting happen?-

"Nope," the teen muttered. "Ignoring you now."

-Did you have lunch with your friends? What were their names...Oh yes, Ned and Peter?-

MJ kept her mouth shut, sitting down and placing today's pile of worksheets out onto her desk and grabbing a pencil from the little cup in the corner of her desk. She spread her notebook wide open with the quadratic equations notes she took in class scribbled in neat lines but messy lettering onto the lined paper. She really wanted the book out of her head. No one else could hear it, that made it extra annoying. If she tried talking to it with anyone else around she'd look like a total nutjob, and honestly, who'd believe her if she told them her new book was psychic?

Her friends might. Were they her friends? She enjoyed being around them, the two dorks obsessing over legos and Star Wars in the middle of chemistry were just as weird as she was. But did they want her around at all? It wasn’t exactly like she acted really friendly around them. Then again, she never acted friendly around anyone.

She sucked in a breath, shaking her head as if that would help dislodge the thoughts from her skull and float to the ground. She didn't need to focus on that right now. Right now, math. She started scratching out equations on her paper. Ax^2+Bx+C=0. She quickly substituted the numbers in the problem and punched them into the calculator with satisfying clicks. Evaluate, simplify, repeat. Evaluate, simplify, repeat. Evaluate, simplify, repeat. Until she wrote what was supposedly the right answer below the problem and circled it. Next question.

Equation. Substitute. Evaluate, simplify, repeat. Evaluate, simplify, repeat. Evaluate, simplify, repeat. Evaluate, simplify, repeat...

She could get lost in it, she didn't actually need to think about it. After the process was locked into her mind this was but mindless grunt-work. She solved problem after problem with astonishing speed. Repeat...repeat...repeat...

-Don't forget the negative.-

"W-what?" MJ said, snapping back to reality and looking over at the book.

-You forgot the negative sign. It's a simple mistake-

The girl composed herself again, brushing a lock of curly hair back behind her ears. "Cool, thanks." And as she entered the zone again she dwelled on the fact that the book helped her with her homework. She was surprised it could, just days ago when she’d bought it, the thing had said something along the lines of, -Ah, you know, I'm not so good at mathematics. That's not really what's written into my pages, see?-

But apparently, that was a complete lie. It was also a lie that it couldn't see all her thoughts, because how else would it know what she was thinking right as she wrote it? She wondered what other lies it had told her. She didn't even know how it was talking to her. On the first day she'd tried numerous times to make it play icebreakers with her, which it didn't, and she was confused and curious beyond measure. But now, after it kept asking her about her social life and literally everything about her. She just found it annoying. Maybe the book was giving her a taste of her own medicine.

About a half-hour later she'd breezed through her algebra homework and was neatly tucking it away. Before she could pull out anything else though, the book interrupted her thoughts once again. -I believe that is the only thing you have due tomorrow?-

There it was again, the knowing-things-she'd-never-told-it thing. Knowing it was probably going to get old real fast she relented and answered the book's rhetorical question with some wryness. "Yes. But you already knew that."

-Ah, so you've picked up on that.-

"You made it too easy."

-That I did. You probably also noticed that I could solve equations?-

MJ nodded, not saying anything. She didn't know if the book could see her doing it, and thought that she should maybe test that out. She also tried to think of anything but nodding her head just in case it could read her mind.

What could she think of? Let's see, viking weapons. Yep, that was a good topic. What was the most famous viking weapon? Ok, that was easy. It was Mjolnir, Thor's might hammer. Or at least, that was the most famous these days. In the past when the vikings still existed they'd probably think Gungnir was the most famous, being Odin's trusted spear and all that.

But Mjolnir was way cooler anyway. Summoning lightning and concentrating the immense energy in a single point in space. She wondered how that worked. Speaking of lightning, why was Thor called the God of thunder? Thunder was just the sound. Thor wasn't the God of loud booming noises. He commanded lightning!

-Just so you know, I can't see you. I don't have eyes.- The book's words pulled her back to the present again. -You made a decent attempt on clearing your mind. Although, you didn't clear it as much as you did clutter it with other information.- She could have sworn she heard it laugh at her. -Still quite adept for a novice. Color me impressed.-

She narrowed her eyes, almost imperceptibly. "If you know everything I'm thinking, why bother asking about anything?"

-It's polite. Something you should learn.-

"I can be polite if I try too."

-Alright then, I challenge you to be polite to me right now.-

"Your pages look very old."

-Clever. Sounds like an insult, could be a complement, or a friendly tease.-

MJ blinked at the seemingly inanimate object, turning around in her swirly chair so she could face it. She folded her legs and rested her elbow on one knee, propping her chin on her hand. She'd meant for the comment to be exactly that. An insult, because calling someone, or in this case something, old was considered rude. A compliment, because she could defend it by saying old meant wise. A teasing comment, because she sounded the same when teasing and being serious. Her brow furrowed. "Yes. Did you read my mind to figure it out?" She muttered.

The thing laughed again, sounding like a hundred butterflies were exploding from magician’s hats inside her head. -Yes and no. But the confirmation certainly helped solidify the assumptions I made. Regardless, I must admit, you aren't quite like any of the other customers who walked in that store.-

MJ leaned forward, curious, but determined not to show it much. She knew it was futile, the book could probably hear her brain going bonkers about the flippin' talking book again. "Does that mean you were listening to the heads of every single person in there."

-I was, actually. I'm afraid I can't tell you what other people are thinking though, but I don't think you wanted to ask that.-

"You know I didn't. Did you talk to anyone else in the store?"

-No.-

"Why?"

-I didn't want to.-

"Why?"

-Because you're the only one who paid attention to me.-

"It was hard not to."

-Don't you find that strange?-

MJ took a second to realize what it was talking about. That book had clearly been in there for ages. The owner of the small shop looked like he barely remembered he'd put it on the shelves in the first place. It had been covered it dust, untouched, unused. At the time, she just thought it was because it was in the very back of the antique store and no one had noticed it before. But the more she thought about it, the odder it got.

-Take a good look at me, MJ.- The use of her name for the first time ever startled her, even though logically, it shouldn't have. She stood and walked over, crossing her arms and gazing down at the book. -I've got genuine silver on my leather, indecipherable text on my pages, yet no one else thought me interesting enough to even pick up for months. Much less buy me.-

An obvious question popped into MJ's mind. "If no one thought you were interesting, how'd you end up on sale?"

The book chuckled again, it sounded so weird vibrating around her skull.

-Would you like to know?"-

"Duh."

There was a pause. -Would you be willing to give me something in return?-

MJ threw a venomous look at it. "What do you want?" She asked slowly, drawing out the words, but still somehow making it sound casual.

-It's not a hard request. But I doubt you'll be very fond of it.-

MJ kept her glare cold, she’d learned how from staring down Flash when she passed him in the hallways. "What is it?"

-I'm sure you've seen than more than half my pages are empty?-

She had seen. "What are you getting at?

-They are old, no denying it, but you can draw in them. They won't fall apart, and I won't mind.-

"Your point?"

-You draw during detention, correct?-

MJ nearly slipped off the edge of her chair once she realized what the book was suggesting.

-Take me to your school tomorrow. I'd be delighted to meet your friends, if you please?-

Chapter Text

"Why did I agree to this?" MJ muttered under her breath. The book was heavy. VERY heavy. Her poor backpack sagged miserably under it's weight and dragged the teenager down along with it as she trudged to lunch. Not only that, but it was finding talking to her during class while she was trying her best to read or concentrate was the most amusing thing on the planet. Or at least, it felt that way.

-You had every right to decline.-

"You didn't give me much of a choice."

-You could have lived a full life without knowing how I got into that store, or why I wanted to meet your friends. Yet you decided to do this anyway.-

"Touche," MJ admitted, in a tone that could have been either accusatory or friendly. It was hard to say, but the book knew exactly what was in her head. It didn't feel like commenting on it though.

She didn't mind talking to it in hushed tones in the bustling hallway, the chances someone would actually notice and care were so low that it was easier to get struck by lightning than have a full conversation. "What should I call you anyway? Do you have a name?"

-You may call me whatever you like.-

After a minute a wracking her brain and still thinking of nothing to say, MJ gave up. "I'll just call you Book."

-Ok. Like I said, whatever you like.-

"Good," she replied curtly. Being completely truthful, She kind of liked how chill Book was about everything. As far as she knew it didn't judge her, or comment on most of her thoughts, it was just there. Like a floating thought bubble that followed her around. She wasn't sure how comforting it was, but if she was going to have something in her brain every second she was around it, she'd like that thing to not make fun of her insecurities. The train of thought brought another idea that threw itself out her mouth before she could process it. "Can you always hear me? Or do you just hear me when you're near me?"

-Mmm, there is a limit to my reach. But yes, if you are in range, I can always hear you if I choose too. I can't however, I can't always hear everyone else.-

"Explain."

-Oh, I will. In due time. First you'll fulfill your end of the bargain.-

"Mmhmm," she hummed, turning her focus back to her surroundings. She skillfully weaved through the last remaining bits of the crowd she'd walked into. She could already smell the lunchroom cheese pizza. The scent of the sauce made her nose wrinkle. They weren't using the one they usually did, the spicier one that tasted better. This one was the one that tasted like ketchup instead of pizza sauce. She felt bad for the guy who had to eat that junk. Luckily for her, she'd packed herself a nice sandwich this morning. 

She scanned the long, green, plastic tables for her "friends", if she could call them that, her eyes briefly pausing on Flash and his mob of brainwashed followers circled around him. Her poor peers were oblivious to his stupidity, how sad. A ghost of a smile worked it's way onto her face when she saw Peter and Ned sitting side by side at the end of one of the tables. Ned was stealing a mini chocolate chip cookie out of his friend's lunch, and Peter was feigning betrayal at the action.

-So these are the fellows. They look like good people.-

"Shut up," MJ whispered to it before making her way to the table.

She introduced herself by plopping her backpack down onto the bench, swatting some food off the surface, seating herself on top of it and proclaiming, "What's up losers."

"O-oh, hey MJ!" Peter said back, a smile spreading across his face. "Uh, how's your day been going."

"Good," was her brief answer. She didn't pull out her lunch first, instead opting to slide Book out of it's space between her binder and her computer and dropping it in front of her with a thud. She produced a pencil from one of her coat pockets and flipped the pages until they landed on a blank one. The thing even smelled old, like a dusty study with wooden furniture and shelves filled with even dustier books and scrolls. And maybe she even smelled the rippling sunshine coming through the glass window. It was a strange window that she saw in her head. It was circular, with a floral-ish mandala made from different pieces of glass stuck together. Like stained glass, but without as many colors. There was also a very uneven tic-tac-toe-board-like structure overlapping it. It was lopsided, leaning to the left, but definitely a solid wooden structure. She had no clue why she thought of it though, maybe just a fluke of her imagination. Might be fun to draw it. But before she was able to etch out the first line of the image in her head she heard Ned's excited voice ring through her ears.

"Woahhh, sweet book! Where'd you get it."

MJ shot him an unamused look, but answered anyways. "The antique store. It was in the back."

"Remind me to go to the antique store more often. Hey, maybe we could find some cool old legos in there!" Ned exclaimed, looking at the empty space ahead of him with wistful eyes.

"I don't think you get legos at antique stores, Ned." Peter told his friend. "But, we could still build that Death Star again! We never got to finish that!"

Ned nodded ecstatically. "That would be awesome, man! Wanna come over to my place after school? We could start today."

"Sure! Sounds fun!" Peter responded. They shared a look, both of them having that same inventive spark in their faces. What dorks.

MJ ignored their conversation after that, mostly focusing on that window she saw in her brain. With careful strokes of her pencil she carved out the object preserved in her memory bit by bit and projected it on the off-white paper. A line here, a line there, keep it light. A straight line now, do it as well as you can. Repeating pattern, think carefully about where to start and where to end. Did the window bulge out a little? Sure looked like it. Try to exemplify it with perspective. She sketched it out quickly, her pencil moving smoothly and her drawing blooming slowly across the page.

Shading, shading was fun. She didn't have the pencils used in art class, but this mediocre, yellow, HB2 pencil would suit her needs just fine. Applying pressure in some places more than others, and using her pinky and thumb interchangeably to smudge together the graphite she'd laid down onto the paper, and seeing the window dash across her consciousness every now and then she was able to craft a very realistic looking piece. But she supposed it wouldn't look much like a window to anyone else.

"Hey, that's really good. I thought you only drew people suffering."

"Who told you that, Parker?" MJ said, leaning back and holding the book in both hands to admire her handiwork. She didn't even notice that Peter had actually complimented her art until a good few seconds later. She wanted to let him know that she had noticed, eventually, but how to do that without making it sound awkward? Use the offhand tone she always used for anything she said when it was going to be awkward. "Oh, and by the way," she started, glancing up for merely a second to see the look on their faces. It was that look people got when they didn't know how to respond. "Thanks."

-Smooth.- She heard a voice murmur in her psyche. -Are these the only friends you have?- The phrase itself would have been judgemental, but Book actually sounded more genuinely curious.

She was thinking yes, a very big yes. These would be the only two people she actually hung out with ever. She didn't need to reply with her mouth, because she heard Book's -Ah- in her head in response.

-I see. Are you close with them?"

No way. She wasn't close with anyone but her mom, and recently not even her. She'd been off making sure she'd have enough money at home to by groceries, and watch TV, and turn on the lights in her room every day.

-Maybe it's time to get some real friends then.-

She stared at her drawing. Maybe it was, maybe she'd been wanting to do it for a while but had never been brave enough. Maybe she was afraid she'd mess it up somehow. How was she going to do this?

-Just be yourself. They clearly think you as a friend. Ask to join in their activity.-

MJ didn't think that was a good idea. She thought it was a really dumb idea. They barely knew each other. But she took a breath and let the words flow out of her lips anyway, knowing if she waited  any longer she wouldn't ask at all. Her tone was just as casual as ever. "Hey, mind if I help you to build your Death Star?" What was happening to her?

Another quick peek away from Book and at the two boys let her see their perplexed faces, and she almost scoffed. She put Book back down on the table. It probably looked comically large in front of her face, anyway. "What?" She questioned, raising a brow at their expressions. "I've watched Star Wars."

Ned was the first to recover, tripping over his own words as he struggled to reply. It was hilarious. "Uh, u-um, er, sure. Yeah, that's fine with us. Right Peter?"

Peter looked like he recovered from his shock at the mention of his name and shook his head yes a few times saying, "D-h-yeah. Totally fine. W-we could all walk to Ned's house after school today."

MJ tipped her chin up slightly, watching them shift under her gaze. "Cool, see ya after school."

Peter and Ned had suddenly started talking to each other again, like they were trying to reignite the conversation, but the girl was more fixated on what Book was saying to her.

-That was very good.- And MJ got the idea that Book wasn't just trying to be her life coach.

The walk to Ned's house was mostly silent, only with vague answers from her to generic icebreaker questions like "What's your favorite color?"

It was also a curious amount of silence of from Book, other than some suggestions that she should try to start a conversation. But even she, with all her cool, would not dare try pulling that off hurrying through the afternoon sidewalks of Queens. Even after the reached the place she stayed silent. At least, until Ned spoke up with a quick, "Sooo, this is my house." He stood there looking at it like he was trying to tell if this was a dream or reality before deciding that it was definitely reality and walking up his front steps to unlock the door.

"Hey mom!" He greeted. "My friends, Peter and MJ are here to help build the lego Death Star. That's ok, right?"

"Yes, yes!" Came a voice from inside the house somewhere. "Just make sure to do your homework!"

"Ok, mom! Alright guys, c'mon in," he said cheerfully, taking his shoes out and placing them on a rack in the shoe closet, located right next to the door. Peter followed his lead wordlessly, like he'd done it a million times before, and so did MJ. She also followed them upstairs without giving it much thought. She didn't remember the last time she'd been to a friends house just for the fun of it, just to hang out, as friends. As she stepped into Ned's room she thought it felt kind of nice. Even though there were clothes strewn all across the floor and on the bed.

Ned was hurriedly picking them up and shoving them in his closet and out of the way. "Sorry, it's a little messy in here."

"No, no, dude," Peter said, throwing MJ a quick dart of his eyes. "It's fine."

MJ got the gist that she was a girl in a boys room, and they were probably trying to make sure she was comfortable. Or maybe they just hoped that she, a girl, wasn't going to think them as huge slobs. That last one seemed more likely.

She shrugged to ease some of their tension, but did throw Ned the second unimpressed look she'd given him today. It only made him clean faster. After he'd managed with some kind of superhuman speed to sweep the floor AND bed clear of all stray t-shirts he ducked under his bed and pulled out a large box. The contents crashed together as he held it up to show them, and he had the goofiest smile plastered to his face. When MJ got a glimpse of Peter she saw the same thing in his face. She let the tiniest of smirks sneak onto her face as she sat down in front of the cardboard box as Ned dumped the pieces out. The plastic bags had already been ripped open, and the legos had mixed together, but the two boys didn't mind.

"3,803 pieces," Peter breathed, the childish grin widening. He looked like a two-year-old who'd just eaten candy for the first time.

"I know right!" Ned blabbered back.

MJ watched as they started sorting the different types of pieces, and was surprised to find herself sorting along.

"So how's it going with Flash?" Ned asked Peter.

"Oh, y'know. He's still a jerk." He replied.

"But dude, you could-" He stopped midway, alarmed, and looking at MJ like she was sprouting extra limbs. Peter was giving Ned an exasperated and desperate look and Ned, looking back and forth between his friends, had to find a way to cover up whatever he almost accidentally blurted. "Y-you could totally beat him in any class. At tests!"

"Expect PE," Peter clarified and Ned agreed with a, "Yeah, expect PE."

MJ's brow was furrowed significantly, and she was staring at them, puzzled. That was definitely not normal. They weren't telling her something. But what? It had to do with doing something to Flash. No, being able to do something to Flash. Totally different things. One was speculation or an idea, the other was an ability. Peter could do something to Flash that would counter him being a jerk, that wasn't related to academics since that was Ned's excuse for it. But as far as she knew, academics was the only thing Peter excelled at. That she knew of.

That she knew of.

She should wipe that conjecture out of her mind forever because Peter was now most definitely not your ordinary high school geek. He had something else up his sleeve. Something that could send Flash, one of the richest kids she knew, running. She was skeptical of any advantage in terms of physical strength, because Peter really was that bad at PE and he looked like a strong breeze could blow him over.

Maybe he knew some people who'd back him up, or maybe he was playing all of them and was a super cool, mega awesome alien from another planet who could eat Flash whole. She laughed internally at the thought, she'd figure out the real reason later.

It was probably connected to why he'd quit so many of his after school activities. What was that again? The Stark internship, right.

But for the time being, she didn't want to let them know she was onto them, so she said, "Nerds," And went back to sifting through legos. Through her peripheral vision she could see them breath silent sighs of relief.

The rest of the play date (which Peter kept insisting it wasn't a play date but it totally was) went without a hitch. They finished half the Death Star, and even did homework together. And to her surprise, MJ found herself enjoying herself more than she thought she would. Sure she was only reading off the instruction manual and letting Peter and Ned do most of the building. But she liked it, a lot. It was...fun. 

Book took notice of it.

-I knew you'd like it.- It commented when she had gotten back home.

"Why'd tell me to do it?" She asked, taking it out of her backpack and flopping onto her bed.

-Why not?-

"You can't tell me there isn't a reason."

-Alright, there is a reason.-

"What is it?"

-You told me I couldn’t tell you there wasn’t a reason. But, on a related note, I think I owe you some other nuggets of information.-

MJ tilted her head at it. "Why'd you want to meet my friends."

-I wanted to know what kind of people you spent time around.-

"Why would you want to know that?"

-To get a better sense of you as a person.-

That sort of made sense, but MJ could practically feel the withheld information. She knew better than to waste time asking though, if Book didn't want to tell her it wouldn't tell her, and there was nothing she could do about it. "How'd you end up at the store."

-I'm no ordinary book, MJ. I appeared there of my own will, during the time I was needed as per the agreement I made.-

After Book stopped talking MJ glowered at it. "That's not an answer."

-Actually, as I remember it, I answered your question to how I got in the store, despite it’s cryptic nature.-

"You can't make it that cryptic."

-Then perhaps you should specify that next time we make a deal.-

MJ let an audible groan escape her clenched teeth. "You've gotta be kidding me."

-I'm afraid not. Now get to sleep.-

"What? Why?”

-I plan to wake you up early.-

“It's Saturday tomorrow."

-We have much to do.-

"That’s nice. But I have things to do." Why would she go to bed? She had no reason too. MJ huffed. "I don’t have to listen to you,” she said, more to herself than to the tome. “You're a book, you’re literally an inanimate object.“

-You don't have to listen to me, but I suggest that you do.-

"You can't make me do anything until I get some kind of reason."

-MJ, please. I will explain further in the morning, but you must sleep.-

"No, explain now."

-I'm not going to tell you.- She could bet it's own voice was holding some of the discontent mirrored in hers.

"I’M not going to hear any of it. Explain." MJ punctuated the last word, hard. She was getting impatient with Book. If it thought it was going to boss her around in her own house, it was wrong. She may have gone along with what it was telling her before, but no more. "Now. Or I start ignoring you again."

-MJ!- That was the first time Book had yelled at her. It felt hard, fast, and it was freezing. Like a lightning bolt made of ice had cracked through her conscious. It wrapped around her entire head, her entire being. She could feel the voice resonating through every bone in her body, making it's way through each and every nerve. And it hurt. It was like Arctic air was being pumped through her body, encasing her muscles in jagged crystals and paralyzing them. MJ cried out in pain, curling up around herself on her bed.

The pain stopped as suddenly as it had arrived. But the few seconds it had lasted were pure agony, and it had left her gasping for oxygen.

-MJ, what will happen the next day will not be your choice, nor mine. There is no resisting it, but you can prepare for it. Do you understand?"

The teen was gritting her teeth, unsure of whether she should be angry or terrified. She couldn't find the words to string any of her thoughts together, but Book knew what she wanted to say.

-I’m sorry, about that. I promise, I’m trying to help you.-

"H-help with what?!"

-Your inevitable future. And for that you need rest.-

Her next demand for an straight answer yielded no results, neither did the next, or the one after that, or anything she tried afterwards. She threw the stupid thing into a wall several times, yelled into it's pages, threatened to rip it into shreds, but nothing worked. The only thing she could think to do was change into some pajamas and climb under the covers. “Book?”

-Yes?-

“Should I be worried?”

-No. You will be fine.-

Her mind sang an appraisal with the conclusion that Book was lying. She didn’t know how fine she’d be. But she also didn’t know what else she could do. So she resignedly snuggled into her pillow and try to fall asleep while hoping - praying - that her fear was unreasonable.

Chapter Text

One thing was for certain. Something was very wrong when she woke up. Everything felt hazy, and woozy, and so, so wrong. Her head was throbbing like someone had gone and cracked a wooden baseball bat over it. She felt freezing, even though it was almost summer and beams of morning light were shimmering across her room. And at the same time, when she lifted a hand to her head to massage her temples she felt warm. No, not warm, hot. She had a fever, a bad one by the looks of it.

She tried her best to put together cohesive thoughts. She was sick, how'd she get sick? It might be the flu, but she'd gotten vaccinated for it. It definitely wasn't the common cold.

She should probably see a doctor, but she didn't want to. Plus, what was she going to do? Call an ambulance over to her house because she couldn't drive? When she thought about it, that would be normal thing to do, but she still didn't want too. She decided she'd take some bed rest and if it wasn't better in a few days, then she'd call the ambulance.

She sat up slowly, instantly regretting it when she felt the room start spinning.

She put two fingers to her temple, trying to ground herself in something that wasn't visual, and stared at a stain on her blanket to help steady herself. God, her hands were cold. They were always a little cold, but this was like ice. In one way it felt better, in another it just worried her further.

She pressed her eyes closed and buried the thoughts before they could surface. Worrying about herself wasn't going to get her anywhere. What she needed was to get something in her body. Food, water, something.

MJ gingerly stood, feeling the entire world pivot as soon as she got to her feet. She stumbled, but ignored it to the best of her ability. She staggered to her closet, it was already open. She'd forgotten to close it yesterday after getting ready for bed. She'd been too stunned by Book's warning.

Book...what did it tell her?

She felt her brain start turning to mush again and waved away the thought. She couldn't afford to think about that right now.

Instead she pulled a maroon sweater out of her closet and put it on over her pajamas, letting the wool warm her up. She also pulled on some socks, black with white stitching, and that went well above her ankles.

After a few deep breaths and making sure she wasn't falling over, she carefully made her way downstairs, hobbling into the kitchen. She opened the fridge as quick as she could and pulled out some milk. She couldn't stand any more cold right now. She brought out a mug and poured herself a glass, popping it into the microwave and setting the timer to warm it up.

-There is actually a recipe for tea that will help the fever break. I’m sure you have most of the ingredients, I could walk you through the process.-

MJ recognized the voice, but paid it no mind. The book didn't answer any of her frantic questions, it pretty much commanded her to go to bed (with a nice dose of crippling pain on the side), and there was no way she was taking advice from it anymore.

-I told you yesterday. I'm here to help.-

The light beeping of the microwave, signaling that it had finished, helped MJ distract herself from Book. She quickly pulled it out from inside and stumbled to the couch, dropping herself on it as quickly as she could. Her hands searched for the remote on the table next to her, holding it up and turning on the TV.

-Milk is not the best option when you are sick. Maybe try some boiled water for now?-

"Can it," the teen muttered, flipping aimlessly through the channels. She hovered over the news option for a minute before clicking away. She needed something that she didn't need to fully process to understand. She finally settled on the nature channel. That was supposed to be calming, right? Besides, the monotone voice of the woman narrating was dull and quiet enough to help soothe her dreadful headache.

She mindlessly watched on, sipping the warm milk and letting the heat from the cup seep into her freezing skin.

-I promise I'm trying to help you.-

"You have a funny way of showing it," she spat back. Book was upstairs in her room, but it's voice was as clear as ever. She hadn't really listened to how it sounded before. It didn't really sound like anything. It wasn't masculine or feminine, or human for that matter. It sounded like a flowing river, or the leaves rustling in the breeze, bringing a feeling instead of an actual tone. It was a whiff of a thought that her mind converted into words without her noticing.

-I'm sorry about yesterday. It was the only way I could get you to listen.- It almost seemed to sigh. -I guess you deserve some forthrightness after that.-

MJ perked up at that. What she would give for a straight answer right now, which also brought another thought to her mind. Book answered before she could ask.

-No, I did not cause your illness. In truth, it's not an illness at all. This is completely normal.-

"Normal how?"

-I will tell you, keep an open mind.-

"Done, tell me," she ordered. Her tone was so stern, with such a fiery note of finality, that calling it anything but an order would be an understatement

-There is a thing called the Snarl. It's like an invisible web, innumerable strings connecting all things to all else in the universe. Some beings can tap into the Snarl with great training and dedication, granting them powers beyond the comprehension of many.

-A rare few, like yourself, start connecting themselves without noticing or trying. The unfortunate side effect your body adjusting happens to be you feeling miserable for a couple days.-

"That felt condensed, and vague."

-I'm trying not to overwhelm you. It's a lot to take in.-

"I can handle it."

-I assure you, you can't.-

MJ snorted at it, but decided there was a better way to get answers than trying for the same few things over and over again. "Fine. How do you know all this? Did you do this to me?"

-As I said yesterday, it was not my choice for you to have to endure this. You did it to yourself without your notice.-

"Still doesn’t explain how you somehow know all about it."

-I have helped others with the transition before. The last time someone managed this was a millennia ago. I'd assisted one of few remaining ones on Earth, the rest of the practice being smothered under the belief of witchery, evil. After that, I thought my time was over, until I appeared in that shop.-

"And why was it that I was the only one who saw you?" She wouldn’t believe it was because she was unique or destined or whatever other delusional bullshit she might get. Chosen ones didn’t exist in the real world.

-I read the mind of every person in that store and saw multiple with the potential to unlock this power. But I also saw the shortsightedness of all of them, the inability to see life through fractals of shattered views and ideas. And that is the reason they didn't see me. You, however, found me because you saw something different about me.-

"And that is?"

-I have no clue. And it seems, neither do you.-

"Ok," MJ muttered, rubbing her brow that was aching even more from the amount of questions running through her head. Thankfully, Book was polite enough not to answer them before she was ready to ask them. Or maybe it just hoped she'd forget some when more crashed through the growing pile. "And why haven't these other potential Snarl people got superpowers yet?"

-There has to be a trigger. In your case, I was the trigger.-

"So this was your fault."

-I never prompted you to buy me. This was of your own doing. But it is not a fault, it's a gift.-

"Doesn't feel like it."

-Isn't that what people said about cars, and computers, and light bulbs? But now, can you imagine life without them?-

MJ groaned, not wanting to accept that Book had just made a solid point. But this was different. All those changes had been gradual, not freaking overnight.

-This isn't overnight. The mastery of your new power will be slow, and the rate at which they'll reveal themselves just as steady. And I will be with you through all of it. I was made for that purpose.-

"What purpose? Ruining the lives of teenage girls by turning them into mutants?"

-You are not a mutant.-

"Maybe not to me, but that's what I'll be to everyone else. Sure some of them get the all praise and become heroes. But most of them disappear and never come back!" She heard her own voice hitch on the last word. She didn't want this. Was this how mutants felt? The constant threat of being discovered looming over their heads.

-Not on my watch.-

MJ tried to stand, wobbling on her feet again as soon as she got up.

-Sit down.- The Book chided as she had leaned against the arm of the couch to steady herself, turning off the TV on accident. It was kind of a nice, unintended action that brought some silence to the room. That is, until Book's voice rang through her head again. -You are in no condition to fend for yourself right now.-

"I'm fine," MJ insisted, even though she knew she must have looked like a complete mess.

-You need help.-

"I thought you were going to help."

-I cannot provide you with physical assistance.-

"Then what use are you?"

-Think of me as your spiritual guide. And your guide says you need to call someone over to help.-

"I'm not calling a doctor over when I could be considered a mutant."

Book's next words bristled with agitation. -It does not have to be a medical professional. Just call someone who can help you.-

She opened her mouth to argue but got interrupted. -You know who to call. You have two friends.-

Once again MJ nearly jumped out of her sweater at the revelation. "No, absolutely not."

-You don't have any other choice, other than sitting here and being unable to take care of yourself.-

"Is that why you wanted to 'meet' them?"

-Partially,- it admitted, slightly apologetically. -I'm sorry I didn't say. I just wanted you to have a relatively stress-free day.-

"No you didn't. You were afraid I'd freak out."

-You would have 'freaked out' regardless of when I told you.-

That was another fair point.

-Call your friends MJ. Maybe just one for now, who do you trust the most?-

In other circumstances she would have continued debating without a second thought. But right now her head was pulsing with pain, she felt like the physical embodiment of sadness, and was tired to the point where it seemed beyond repair. She caved in, sitting back down, pulling out her phone and going to the online school directory. A quick minute of scrolling later and she'd found Peter's name and phone number, punching it into the digital keypad and bringing the device to her ear. Peter was the obvious choice. He could totally be an alien, but better an alien than someone who might panic if she got a fever. Which Ned would totally do, as well as probably ask her hundreds of questions about everything. Like a way more annoying version of Book.

It rang for what felt like a nerve wracking eternity, before someone picked up the call. The person on the other side sounded sweet, but powerful. Like someone who you'd regret getting in an argument with. Like peppery sugar. It was a woman, and definitely not peter. "Hello," she greeted tactfully. "Are you Peter's aunt?" She knew he lived with his aunt instead of his parents, she'd overheard more than enough at school to figure that out.

"Yes," the woman replied. "Who is this?"

"I'm Peter's friend from school. MJ."

"Ohhh, MJ. I remember! You're that girl who was at Ned's yesterday."

"Yep. That's me. Could you put Peter on please?" She prompted.

"Yes, no problem. Just give me a second."

MJ heard a muffling sound and then Peter's aunt distantly yelling to her nephew to hurry downstairs. And she was back again.

The adolescent cleared her throat and responded with a "Thank you, Mrs. Parker."

"Are you alright, hon?" She heard May's voice echo through the speaker. The question startled MJ a bit, but she responded with the same amount of composure she always did.

"Fine. Why?"

"Nothing, nothing. You just sound tired. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

MJ found it really, really bizarre that a random person she'd never met in her life would care enough to ask if she was sleeping enough at night. "Yes, I have."

"Oop, there comes Peter," she said with a chuckle. "So, uh. It was nice talking to you, MJ. Make sure to get those z's in!" Wow, Peter's aunt was a soccer mom. A really nice soccer mom who'd barely known who she was and still worried about her health.

"MJ?" Came the familiar, confused voice. "H-Hey, um. How's it...how's it going?"

"Parker," MJ said without missing a beat, with the same logic she had when she asked to help play with legos. If she didn't do it fast, and didn't do it now, she wouldn't do it at all. "I need you to get your butt over here."

The silence on the other end was all she needed to gauge his bewilderment. "What?" He asked, like she'd just asked him to jump on her face.

"Come to my house."

"W-why? Is something wrong?"

Somehow, even with her dying social skills, Peter was able to figure out that there was something amiss. Maybe he knew her better than she thought. "Yes, you idiot. I'm sick."

"Huhh?" Peter started unsure of what to say before regaining his confidence. "Are you ok? Why'd you call me? Who-"

MJ interrupted him. "My mom is on a business trip on the other side of the country, the rest of my family doesn't live anywhere near here, and you're the only other person I know. Please don't bring anyone else. Got it?"

After a moment of stuttering Peter eventually managed a short, "Yeah," followed by a, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course I'll come. Just give me, er, fifteen-ish minutes?"

"See you in fifteen-ish minutes," MJ said, and abruptly hung up. "Happy?" She spoke at the living room.

-Very,- came Book's reply. She could almost see it's smile. -Good choice.-

"Why do you say that?"

-Reasons I shouldn’t say.-

"Of course," she mumbled dully. "Any use begging you to tell me what they are?"

-You know the answer to that.-

MJ pressed deeper into the cushions with a sigh. She grumbled, curling up into a ball and resting her head on one of the stiff pillows. "I thought magic didn't exist."

-It exists. Magic is controlling energy.-

"So when you made me feel like I was turning into an ice sculpture yesterday, that was magic?"

-You're not letting go of that anytime soon, are you?-

"Nope."

When the doorbell rang, MJ sluggishly made her way to the entrance of her home and opened her door to see an exhausted Peter with a backpack slung over his shoulders. Despite her grogginess she was still able to create one of her usual sentences. With a cool look she asked, "Why are you so tired?"

"I, uh, ran here," Peter responded. MJ's mind instantly went to the facts. Her home was a good few miles away from his, based on the directory, and she knew he was almost always last to finish the mile run in class. Took him more than ten minutes. There was no way he "ran here” that fast. She gave him a look of suspicion equal to her thoughts, seeing him tense at the action, but soon opened her door wider for him to step in. He did so hesitantly, following her over to where she immediately flumped back on the couch.

He sad down next to her, about as far away as he could get without seeming like he was deliberately trying to stay away from her. MJ chalked it up to the fact that she was sick.

Peter picked at the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing, maybe out of habit. MJ could see the seams starting to come loose, even though the shirt looked relatively new. "You look...good," he said quickly, taking off the backpack and setting it on the ground beside him.

"Liar," MJ replied while tearing a hand through her tangled mess of hair, trying to keep her tone neutral. Instead it came out amused, almost facetious, especially because she knew she looked like crap.

"Ok, maybe," Peter admitted after a moment, sounding like he hadn't found a good enough way to repair the broken compliment.

They sat there awkwardly for a couple minutes, Peter still wearing the stitching on his shirt down to nothingness.

"Thanks for coming," MJ said to break the silence. "I appreciate it."

"O-oh, yeah! Of course, what are friends for?" He sounded like she'd caught him off guard.

MJ decided she liked the sound of that. Friends. Or maybe it was her slushy head, because she was almost sure she'd had this inner conversation about friends before. Maybe?

Thankfully, she was still able to sound like herself when the next words came out of her mouth. "Do you want to watch something?"

"Um, sure. If you want, that is."

MJ smirked, the still reasonable part of her brain internally slapping her for doing it. But Peter was polite to the point where it was funny. "Do you want to?"

"I-I don't mind either way."

MJ rolled her eyes. "Dork." She tossed him the remote with a quick, lazy motion, expecting him to be surprised and maybe fumble to catch or avoid it. But confusingly he didn't have any problems plucking it right out of the air. He caught it while barely looking at it, like something out of a action movie. And weirdest of all, he himself didn't look astonished at his own ability to do this.

First getting to her house at inhuman speeds, now this? MJ felt a feeling of consternation wash over her as Peter stared at the remote. Should she be worried, curious, excited, concerned? Maybe all of them?

Her train of thought was interrupted by Peter pulling something out of his backpack. It was a grey, thermos style lunch box, reflecting the homey lights in the ceiling. It had a hinged lid, and a strap that hung from it, probably so someone could carry it around like a purse. A lunch-purse. He also pulled out a spoon. "I almost forgot, Aunt May is a nurse. She made you some soup when I told her you weren't feeling well, said it would help."

The fact that Peter got here that quick after his aunt also made SOUP would have, should have, made MJ at least a little wary. But she was too dazzled by the kindness of this women to do anything but mindlessly take the box from him and mutter a quiet, "Thanks."

"No problem!"

MJ looked at Peter's face. His face which had a small, genuine smile on it. A get well soon smile, an I-hurried-over-here-to-give-you-warm-soup smile, a smile like he was really her friend.

And MJ smiled back.

Chapter Text

Once again, the annoying book had been right. After a couple hours, any dizziness and pain she had felt before had dulled to a mild irritating sensation. More like a bad cold than something serious. Thankfully, she’d stopped Peter from calling 911 after a particularly awful headache. He was very persistent in reminding her that if she felt any worse than that he’d call someone to help immediately.

MJ was actually surprised he was doing that, with a firm voice and a scrunched-up face. It was adorable. It was like looking at a chihuahua trying to be tough. His face just wasn’t built to look the least bit threatening.

She managed to shoo him away after she brought up his internship – for some reason he was surprised she knew when it was – and told him she’d call right away if she felt like she needed help. He left tentatively but did agree that he didn’t want to be late.

Later that day, she was sitting on the couch again, wrapped in blankets and eating the soup Peter’s aunt had been kind enough to make for her as lunch. It was absolutely delicious, almost as if she were eating bites of clouds and rainbows. Or maybe it just felt that way because her head was still a little loopy, and the day she’d been having so far had been mostly abysmal, either way she made a mental note to thank Ms. Parker later. Not having to make her own food and still getting a homecooked meal was awesome.

She didn’t dwell on the thought much though, quickly turning on the news again as she ate. The story at the moment was a blurry shot of a red and blue blur flashing through flames licking at a burning building.

-So, what do you think of Spider-Man?-

MJ took a moment to process the question, whipping her head around to look for Book before realizing it was upstairs. “He’s cool.”

-Must be hard, risking your life to save strangers every day, knowing that there would still be people who were in trouble all around the world.-

“I guess. Why did you bring it up.”

-Can I not want to have a normal conversation?-

“You never do. And don’t tell me you can’t say.”

-Unfortunately, I can’t. And telling you why is also out of the question.-

“Why?”

-You will understand soon enough.-

She was really starting to feel like a kid again, one that everyone decided to hide important stuff from, just because they thought she wasn’t mature enough.

-I hear your frustration. Don’t scowl, I do. Really. I’ve felt it from most people I talk to. But this is for your own good.-

“Just tell me what’s going on! Are you bringing him up because I’m going to get powers? Do you want me to become a superhero?”

-I can barely imagine you as a superhero, it’s plainly ridiculous. I just want to know your opinion.-

“It has to be more than that.”

-MJ, you know I’m not telling you.-

She knew all right, but that made it worse. She couldn’t even do anything about it! She groaned, burying her head in her arms, and taking a few deep breaths.

Getting angry wasn’t going to get her anywhere, it’d probably just make her feel worse. In, out, in, out… After regaining her composure and peaking back at the TV screen from under her sleeves she asked, “You said I was going to get powers. Get into the Snarl or something. Can you tell me more about that.”

-I suppose a little information can’t hurt. What would you like to know?-

MJ’s eyes narrowed slightly, almost imperceptibly. “What kinds of powers?”

-Spells.-

“Like actual magic?”

Book seemed to chuckle, the vibrations echoing through her head. -Yes, actual magic. Based on your recovery time I’d give you until about tomorrow until you start noticing the effects.-

“So, I’m going to cast spells, or something?”

-In a way. Spells are a way to help you direct the power, control it to let you do what you want with it.-

“And if I don’t use a spell?”

-It’ll be able to achieve so many possible variations it might as well be unpredictable.-

“Can I start practicing now.”

-No, your mind and body are still adjusting to the connection.-

“Ok,” MJ said, trying to not start arguing. That would get her nowhere, again, plus she’d probably regret it. “Anything else I should know about?”

-No. But feel free to keep asking me questions.-

MJ squinted, thinking for a moment. “What if someone finds out?”

-If you do what I tell you to, no one meaning you harm will find out right now.-

“Right now?”

-I can’t predict the future, MJ.-

She thought Book was withholding some very important information right there, but she knew it would keep it’s lips – pages – zipped.

“How can you talk?”

-I’m a magical relic. Officially, the Book of Perception.-

“Magical relic?”

-Created by Masters of the Mystic Arts.-

“That’s a thing??”

-Oh yes. There are two types of Mystic Arts. Sorcery is the most common, and they’ve been believing they know the only kind for thousands of years now. People who study it are often called sorcerers. The other is Witchcraft, and the people who study it are known as witches.-

“So are sorcerers men and witches women?”

Book barked a laugh. -Of course not. Well, they might have switched to that now, it’s been a while. But in the old times the titles were very much for all genders.-

MJ took a minute to really comprehend how long ago the “old times” must have been for Book.

-Anyway, both types of magic function on the same basis, the difference is that Sorcery focuses more on mastery of self, while Witchcraft deals much more with one’s connection to the rest of the world. Of course, both are needed for anything that may be called magic.-

“What about me then? I never learned any of that, how can I do magic?”

-You were born connected to the Snarl, you’re already connected with the energy around you, and right now that connection is showing itself. As such you will technically be able to do magic, but until you master some control over your own mind your control will be limited.-

“So can I, or can I not do magic?”

-You can, but most witches would call it wildly shooting lasers out of your hands and not magic.-

“I can shoot lasers?”

She imagined flashes of greenish light rushing out of her fingertips at the idea, hitting someone in the distance with a loud boom that rattled the earth. It was probably Flash. Yeah, it looked like Flash being catapulted hundreds of feet into the sky by the sheer force of the blast.

-Not the way you’re imagining it.-

She tried the brush off the small amount of disappointment that had appeared in her expression.

“Then how?”

-Please, like I would tell you after that vivid fantasy.-

“It’s not like I would actually do that,” she mumbled even though she was considering it and Book would definitely be able to hear her still thinking about it.

It gave an unconvinced, -Right.- She could feel the warm waves of its amusement rippling into her mind. -And how are you feeling by the way?-

"Ok, I guess. Head still hurts, but other than that I don't feel too bad."

-I suspect you'll be ready for school come Monday.-

"Not sure whether I should be happy or sad." One one note, missing school would mean extra piles of homework to deal with. On another note, she wouldn't have to go to school.

-You're more dramatic than you would like to admit.- The thoughts were swirling around her head and they were filled with even more hilarity, but MJ could have sworn she felt worry buried somewhere deep in them. What was Book worried about? Before she could finish thinking it, the worry had vanished, probably because Book had heard her. After it said nothing on the matter she spoke up.

"Something's bothering you."

-There are many things bothering me.-

"About me?"

-You are my responsibility. I'm troubled by things concerning you, but none is of your concern.-

"I feel like it should be." She knew she wasn't going to get a straight conversation out of Book, but she figured she should stop ignoring the nagging feeling the it was definitely trying to hide something from her.

-Drop it.- It's tone was stern, and carried a note of finality that she'd only heard once before. When Book had used some spell or something to make her feel like she'd lost control of her limbs. She shut up, not wanting to experience the same pain again, but began glaring at the TV screen still showing the image of Spider-man launching himself out of the burning building with a cat huddled in his arms.

-I'm sorry.-

"Are you?" She asked, even though she could feel tendrils of apology woven into the words. "Because we both know you can hide your emotions from me."

-Yes. I shouldn't have done that. I'm not doing it without reason though.-

"Let me guess, you can't tell me the reason."

Book sighed. -The reason is that magic is powerful, more than you could imagine. It's a great responsibility to wield it, even more so when you aren't ready for it. I'm trying to stop you from doing something you'll regret.-

"I'm not stupid! I can-"

She was interrupted. -You are not stupid. You are a very clever individual. But you're young and you lack experience.-

So it was babying her. "Just tell me what not to do!"

-In time. We'll start with your first lesson now. Patience is one of the most important aspects of life, learning, and Witchcraft. You will be patient with me, and trust that I will reveal to you information when I believe you're ready.-

"You're just trying to get me to listen." MJ shot an icy look at the ceiling, where Book was sitting upstairs.

-Indeed. But I'm not lying about the importance of it. To master yourself you must control your impulses. I suggest you start now.-

MJ muttered a disgruntled agreement, but curled up on the couch, silencing the voice in her head warning her to press for information. Book had clearly implied that the discussion was over, and being truthful she was kind of exhausted by the conversation. Guess she wasn't quite back to full strength yet.

That evening, the teen was feeling hundreds of times better. She hadn't heard from Book the whole day, and she couldn't care less. She didn't even want to try and talk to it. She was still lounging on her couch, watching nature documentaries and the odd cartoon, mostly because she felt like she'd been drained of all her energy. But the headache was completely gone. She'd gotten a call from Peter later that day asking if she was ok, and before that Ned had also called to make sure she didn't need anything. It felt really weird, but nice at the same time. She'd barely known them well for a few months, but they were so kind that they welcomed her with open arms.

She was having a great time. And then, as usual, Book decided to come and ruin it.

-You seem much better.-

MJ almost groaned. "Yeah, I do feel better."

-Hm, I recommend another early night today. I think your first day of real training can start tomorrow.-

And just as she had done before, MJ nearly fell off the couch cushions.

Chapter Text

The next day MJ was rudely awakened with a blaring sound filling her head. It wasn't her alarm clock, it was way worse. It sounded like hundreds of very loud, angry birds were flocking inside her brain and it made her sit up with a start. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was pure agony, like all her thoughts were battling with each other. When it stopped she was panting slightly and trying to regain her senses.

Everything was dark and she could barely see her room. The most she could make out were the dim outlines of her hands atop her blankets, and that was purely because her eyes had gotten used to it beforehand. The curtains being closed made it no easier to see anything. At least the fatigue was gone.

-Good morning.-

She shot Book a death glare. Or at least, she shot where she thought Book was supposed to be with a death glare. She had left it on her dresser this time, and the faint light from the neon green numbers on her alarm clock didn't do much to help. "Why did you feel the need to do that?"

-I thought it would wake you up quicker.-

MJ rubbed her eyes, trying to blink away the blackness. "Never do it again."

-We'll see. Are you ready for your training?-

MJ wrapped the covers around her head and flopped by onto her pillow. "No, the sun isn't even up yet," she grumbled.

-That's the point.-

She peaked at the numbers on the digital clock and snuggled deeper into the sheets. "It's 2:00 am. Stop bugging me."

-Do you want to learn how to control your magic before it gets a mind of it's own, or not?-

MJ mumbled something that was muffled by her pillow. Good thing Book could hear what she was thinking.

-Good, now quit whining and get up.-

She could feel it inside her mind as she crawled off the bed, stumbled to her feet, and began squinting at the space around her, the blanket still draped over her shoulders. She began to bumble over to the light switch, or in it's general direction, and was stopped.

-Don't turn on the lights.-

"What?" MJ said. Normally she would have sounded a little more stubborn, but right now her voice only held drowsiness and confusion. "Why not?"

-That's today's training.-

"My training is...not turning the lights on?"

-You really should have listened to me when I told you to sleep early yesterday. You've barely gotten enough rest.-

"10:30 is early."

-We need to have a discussion about your sleeping habits. But never mind that now. Your training is navigating in the dark.-

"Why?"

-You need to feel the connection with your surroundings. And it would be best to start with something familiar, and what could be more familiar than your own home?-

MJ gave a snort of displeasure. "So what do I do?"

-Go brush your teeth.-

She was seriously thinking about ignoring Book completely and just turning on the lights anyway. But, if she did that, she'd never figure out what book was trying to tell her. After about a minute of debating she sighed and walked past the switch and over to the door. She grabbed the handle, knowing from years of turning it exactly where it was. All that was easy. Stepping out of the room was easy. folding up her blanket and tossing it on the bed was easy, even when she could barely see a thing. Walking to the bathroom a few paces away from her door was easy. She thought she was doing amazingly, but Book seemed to disagree.

-Don't rely on memory, really see where everything is.-

"How?" She questioned. "It's almost pitch black in here. There isn't even a window!"

-You don't need eyes to see.-

"You're not helping," she huffed, pushing open the bathroom door and resisting the mechanical motion of flipping on the lights. Her hands were so used to doing it she'd almost turned on the lights before stopping herself midway. It was much darker here, there was absolutely no light. Especially when Book told her to close the door behind her. She literally couldn't see anything.

She walked over to where the sink was, using her hands to feel the cool marble of the countertop, leading to the little cup with her brush tucked in one of the notches. She groped at it, grabbing the handle and pulling it out. She held it between her fingers in a way that left her thumb and index finger free, and used it to unscrew the cap of the toothpaste she'd grasped in her other hand. She went to feel for the bristles of the brush so she could put the toothpaste on right, when she head Book in her head again.

-Don't do that. Drop the paste on the brush.-

"What?" She'd been saying that a lot recently.

-Hold your brush over the sink, and squeeze the paste onto it from as high as you can.-

She was still incredibly confused, but she did as Book instructed. She held her brush over the sink and held the tube of toothpaste up in the air as high as she could, trying to aim it so it would fall onto the brush when she squeezed it. And when she did she was disappointed she didn't feel it land. She tried again, aiming the tube, and squeezing it. Again, it fell into the sink. The worst part was, she could barely tell how much paste was dangling from the opening before it spontaneously fell and splattered on the sink. After a few more tries she brought her hand back down. "This is stupid."

Book's reply took a few seconds. -Put the brush down and hold up three fingers.-

MJ did as Book said, expecting nothing remarkable to happen. Nothing happened. "What's the point of this?"

-How do you know you're holding up three fingers?-

"I-"

Wait, how did she know? She could feel it. Her hand was attached to her, she could feel her three fingers extended. She'd told them to do it, and she knew what they were doing.

-You are part of the world, and the world is part of you. Just as you can feel the connections from your conscious to your arm, you can feel the connections from it to everything else. You'll be able to see with your mind's eye.-

"Hmm, that sort of makes sense."

-Concentrate. Everyone and everything is linked by energy, MJ. You can feel it."

MJ clenched her eyes shut, trying to figure out what Book meant. And then she resorted to science.

At it's smallest level, everything in the universe was made of tiny things, units of pure energy. Protons, neutrons, electrons, quarks, maybe something even smaller that humans didn't know of. And at that level everything was the same. She was no different from that toothbrush, or that door, or the house, or any other part of the universe. They were all part of this giant soup, kind of like the soup Peter's Aunt had given her. Every drop could affect every the other. Energy did that, didn't it? It flowed like soup, like water, like every minuscule thing in her body. Rippling. Like the waves in an ocean, or fabric. One point moves and the entire sheet moves. It's connected, all of it. All the energy is connected.

And then she felt it, a blurry sensation of...well, everything. She could feel her hands on the brush, but she could also feel how the brush felt with her hands on it. She could feel the steady, solid beat of the tile and stone in her bathroom. She could feel the goopyness of the paste without touching the tube at all. She could feel the beams of the house, cold, metal, sturdy. The wood as well, every grain that went through it, and every splinter. The glass of the mirror and the bulb above her head, and the zipping of electricity through her house. And the more she focused, the more stuff she could feel. At one point she could feel every change of direction in the air around her, and the vibrations of the fungus that had sneaked it's way into her house and was tucked in the corners of her windows. It was an entire orchestra, the thrum of life, the grass outside her house even flowing into her home. She could feel everything. She was connected.

But it was loud, very loud. Everything at once, the more things made it's way into her brain the more she struggled to process them. It was starting to hurt. Was this what a sensory overload felt like? She had to stop it before it got worse.

"Stop," she muttered out loud. The word grounded her back to reality, pulling her out of her trance. And she woke from it with a gasp.

She found she'd been biting her lip that entire time, the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Her fists were clenched by her sides and the forced them to uncurl. "Woah," she breathed. She wanted to say more, but it was the only thing she could get out as she leaned against the wall, more aware of everything than ever. It was like her senses had been dialed up a few notches.

She felt a warm breeze run through her skull, calming the rest of the strange sensation. -That was very good.-

"Thanks."

-You may turn on the lights now.-

But MJ shook her head no, and brushed her teeth without a speck of light to help her with it. And she didn't even need to touch the bristles of the brush to know where they were anymore. She just knew. She was a part of the brush, after all.

The sun had risen above her head the next time Book spoke. MJ was washing up the dishes, and had called Peter and Ned to tell them she was doing much better, chalking it up to just needing a good night's sleep. -You did wonderfully on that last exercise. How would you like to try another?-

"Depends," she replied. "What is it?"

-Temperature regulation.-

That was intriguing. "Uh huh. And what does that entail?"

-You won't like the answer.-

"All the more reason for me to know."

-Dunking your hand into ice-water.-

Actually, that didn't seem too bad. It was probably going to make her do it anyway. Might as well do it anyway, when sunlight was streaming through the windows.

-Excellent,- Book said, obviously having heard what she had thought. -Let's start with something a little easier. Turn on the tap, and make the water cold.-

MJ did as told, turning the water on and pushing the handle all the way to the cold side. She waited till it was nearly freezing, and did what Book probably expected her to do. She plunged her hand under the water, hissing at the chill. "Ok, now what?"

-Try warming it up.-

"The water?"

-Your hand.-

"Oh. How?"

-Like there is energy around you, there is energy inside you. You must direct the energy towards your hand.-

"And how do I do that?"

-It's not that easy to explain.-

"Ugh, fine," she grumbled.

It turned out to be a lot harder than she thought it was. No matter what she did, she couldn't quite tell the difference between the energy within herself verses all the other energy, and she often had to pull her hand out of the water and turn it off just to keep it from feeling like it was about to fall off. She was rubbing it against her shirt when she said, "This is ridiculous."

-It seems this is more difficult for you.-

"No duh," she spat, still busy trying to return feeling to her fingers. They were like dead, limp worms.

-Let's take a break.-

MJ couldn't have rushed away from the kitchen faster. She plopped herself back on the couch, ready to turn the TV on when Book said, -No, put down the remote. Sit on the ground, legs folded.-

"I thought we were taking a break."

-We are.-

"Ah, from getting Elsa fingers. Not from-"

-Training. Correct.-

With a sigh, she scooted off the couch and onto the carpeted floor underneath it, crossing her legs and resting her chin in her hands.

-No slouching.-

"I thought meditation videos always said to get into whatever position you're comfortable in." She'd already guessed what they were going to do, especially with all the talk about mastery of self yesterday. Book confirmed it by not correcting that part of her statement.

-Then your meditation videos aren't teaching the same type of meditation. I suspect theirs is focused on relaxation. A variable which is only a small part of the variety I will be guiding you through.-

Straightening her spine she asked, "And what are the other parts."

-Concentration, control, vigilance, tranquillity, and lastly fortitude.-

"Some big words there."

-Focus,- Book scolded gently. -Forget what these video's taught you for a minute, close your eyes, and listen to yourself. Tell me what can you feel?-

"I can feel...I can feel the carpet. It's fuzzy. The air is kind of cold, and my hands are cold. Um. I think my foot is sore?"

-Not bad. Can you sense anything else?-

"I smell soap. I think that's just me. I hear cars outside." She contemplated trying to do the "feel everything" thing from this morning again.

-How about things that aren't external? How do you feel?-

"Slightly annoyed."

Book didn't sound the least amount offended. -And?-

"And," MJ searched her own mind for a second before responding. "Bored.

Book was silent. -Interesting,- it said after a long pause, drawing out the word. -Tell me, are you used to locking up your emotions?-

"What?"

-You heard me.-

"I don't 'lock up my emotions.' I'm just not feeling anything else right now."

-Perhaps not on the surface, but it seems you're unable to fetch anything deeper.-

"There is nothing deeper," she insisted as she folded her arms.

-We'll try this again another time.- I was like Book was ignoring what she was saying. -I must think.-

Nothing MJ said afterwards made the dumb book say anything else. After a couple tries she gave up, having felt that feeling before and just brushing it off. Book would talk to her once it wanted too. By tomorrow for sure. And if it didn't, well, she'd enjoy the peace and quiet.

Chapter Text

"Do you think MJ is acting weird lately?"

Peter was fiddling with the pages of his chemistry textbook as he sat with a busy Tony Stark in one of his labs. They'd grown closer after the Vulture incident, and apparently Tony had made it his personal goal to spend some one on one time with Peter at least once a week. Both because Pepper insisted, and because he probably should keep an eye on the kid. And Peter knew this, and he knew that it was a good idea to have someone that could help him if he got into a rut. But he never could find out how Tony kept sneaking trackers on him, and he had made it clear he hated it several times, but they just kept coming. 

"Who?" Tony asked, watching a holographic screen with equations dancing on it's surface.

"MJ, the girl I told you about."

"Ohhh, right right. Your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"Then why are you turning red?"

Peter scrambled to rub his face. Was he blushing? Oh god, he hoped he wasn't blushing. That would be so embarrassing. He pulled out his phone, staring at himself in it's reflection. After finding that he definitely wasn't blushing he shot a glare at Tony. "T-that's not the point. She's being...friendly?" Peter could never tell if she was just talking to him because she was bored, or because she was being friendly. But since a few days ago she'd been acting way more talkative than usual. At least, with him and Ned. "I mean, she invited me to her house-"

"See, girlfriend."

"It wasn't like that! She was sick."

"Really?" Tony said, feigning disbelief. "Maybe she was just pretending."

"Would you stop? Anyway, she also came to Ned's house to help build a lego Death Star. I didn't even know she liked legos." And at was so spontaneous. One day she was just making random comments at lunch and the next she was treating them like her best friends. Or, at least he thought she was. Did MJ ever have best friends? "Why'd she start being social all of a sudden?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"What? Nooo, that would be weird."

"You are weird. You're a sticky, nerdy kid that can pick up a car."

"You're not helping."

Peter could swear he heard a smile in Tony's next statement. "Maybe you should ask her out."

"Mr. Stark!" He groaned, and Tony let out a light laugh.

And that was the moment F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted the conversation. "Sir, you are receiving a call from an unknown number."

All amusement from Tony's face vanished instantly. "Him again?!"

"It does appear to be him," the AI replied.

Tony returned his attention to the holographic screen. "Ignore it."

"I'm sorry sir, but 'The Boss' has ordered me to make sure you answer his calls."

"Damn you Pepper," Tony muttered under his breath.

"Wait, who's calling you," Peter asked, looking up from his homework.

"Fury," Tony said nonchalantly, like it was an everyday, normal thing.

"Fury? As in Nick Fury? As in the head of S.H.I.E.L.D? As in the coolest spy in the world?! As in the guy who made the Avengers!" Peter couldn't believe his ears. He'd heard of the man, of course, but only by reputation. And Tony's annoyed comments.

"Yeah, yeah. He's been bugging me for a few days. Put him on the screen."

At the command, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D popped up on the screen Tony had previously been working on sporting a death glare. He glanced behind Tony and at Peter, who's mouth was agape and would have hit the ground if it could. "Who's the kid?"

"Nice to see you too, Patchy," Tony said at the same time Peter blurted, "I-I'm Peter, sir." Tony threw him a look practically screaming at him to be quiet.

If Fury was at all amused by the teens flustered speech, he didn't show it. Instead, he put the file he'd been reading down on the polished, glass desk, folded his hands, and leaned back in his black, sleek-looking office chair. "Stark," he greeted curtly.

"What do you want," Tony said, glaring venomously at the Director with crossed arms. Fury matched his gaze with a cool one.

"There's been an energy surge recently. Near where you live. More specifically, Queens."

Peter had to make a conscious effort not to react.

"And you had to bother me about it?" Tony asked.

"We tried tracking the source, but we've been having little to no luck in the matter. Seems whatever energy signature it left is invisible to our tech."

"Then how did you detect it in the first place?"

"We were able to identify the general area, but are having trouble pinpointing it."

"Uh huh, and why should I care."

"Because, the energy shares resemblance to the tesseract's. And Loki's."

Tony almost winced, and his scowl deepened. Loki had destroyed his city, his tower, and invited aliens to his planet. If anything was true, it was that if Tony ever saw Loki again he'd grind the Asgardian to a pulp and toss him into the sun.

"Loki's back?" He snarled. Peter had never seen him that angry before. His entire posture had gone rigid, bones tense, lips pressed together in a thin line. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. And the look in his eyes, it could have burned entire armies into a crisp with barely a glance. It was animalistic, wild, filled with murderous hate.

"No," Fury reassured. "But something else is here, and it might be even more dangerous. I know you have a knack for doing the impossible. Care to help?"

Tony bit his lip. "Send me the data," he said and ended the call by closing the screen with a flick of his wrist. He leaned against the table, probably counting to ten in his head or something, and when he straightened he looked as calm as ever. He turned to face Peter and clapped his hands. "Well, sorry kiddo. Imma have to cut this playdate short. Got another Loki to catch and all that. How about you go on that date, hmm?"

He left the room before Peter could respond.

The next day, Ned had plopped by Peter's side holding some school lunch. It looked very questionable. Some tomato soup, or at least something that resembled it, and a grilled cheese sandwich with cheese that had the consistency of glue.

"Ueh," he mumbled as he poked at the soup with a plastic spoon. "This stuff is going to kill me."

"You know, in the Tutor dynasty a chef was boiled alive because he poisoned some soup."

Peter and Ned both looked up at MJ, who was busy sketching in her book and hadn't yet noticed their obvious staring. It was her usual book this time. Not the fancy one she'd brought on Friday, with the shiny flower in it's cover and stars lining it's spine. When she did notice them, she looked slightly flustered for a minute before muttering a quick, "Sorry."

Peter was more astonished that MJ had just said sorry after attempting to...make a joke? That was supposed to be a joke, right? Ugggghhhh why was this so hard. He still felt really bad about making her feel like she needed to apologize or something so after he'd snapped out of his trance he said, "No, no. It's, uh, that's kinda cool." Maybe not people getting cooked, but the fact that MJ somehow had so much information about the most random things stored inside her head.

MJ gave him a blank look, and her eyes flitted from her drawing to the two of them several times. And on about the fifth time she smirked at them. "Thanks. I just sometimes say dark things. I don't know why, I find them kind of funny. Ironic, maybe."

That was possibly the longest sentence she'd said to him that wasn't a teasing comment, and Peter had to fight to keep his mouth from hanging down and making him look like an idiot. "That's fine. I guess it was kind of funny."

"In a weird, dark way," Ned added unhelpfully, but to Peter's surprise MJ's smile widened for a second before she was looking back down, frantically scribbling things down on her paper.

Peter glanced at Ned, though he was back to playing with his food. Didn't he notice. Maybe it was just Peter, but he was sure the extra bit of smile was delayed. Like, peculiarly delayed. She didn't smile at Ned's joke. Maybe she did at first, but not later. And why was she so concerned about hiding it? It was just him noticing it, right? It was just his imagination. But there was a nagging doubt in his mind that MJ was acting different for some reason. Not bad different, good different. Like, more extroverted different. And that's what irked him.

The change in her attitude happened in just a few days, it was so abrupt. And he thought he could chalk it up to maybe someone else helping her, which he would have liked, but why'd she call him when she was sick? Why not that other possible person? It didn't make sense.

"Peter. Can he hear us?"

"You ok Parker?"

Peter looked up at MJ who was quick to clarify. "It just looked like you, spaced out there."

"O-oh," Peter stammered out. "Sorry. Ned, were you saying something?"

"Yeah! See, I was wondering if you could come over and help with my homework."

MJ responded for him. "He has his internship today," she said, still drawing. How did she know that?! "I could come though."

"Wait, really?" Ned responded in disbelief. "That's awesome! I'll see you after school?"

"Yep, see ya then."

Peter's mind was struggling to keep up with the conversation. Did MJ really just do that? When did she ever want to help with homework? Never. Literally never. This was a step up from just hanging out and playing with legos, she offered to help Ned with his academics. Didn't she like staying in detention after school though?

Peter slid a hand down his face and began to unzip his lunchbox. He'd figure this out later.

Spider-man was free falling down the side of a building, staring at the reflection of himself in the glass panes zooming by. The new suit was much appreciated, and didn't run out of webs as often. Which left the vigilante free to not keep worrying about how to save himself if his webs ran out. The gliding mechanic was a nice touch as well. He was itching to tell Ned about meeting Nick Fury (kind of) all throughout school, but there were always too many people nearby. Especially MJ, who seemed to be stopping by to say hi to them in the hallways between classes.

MJ, MJ, MJ. It was all he could think about. He wasn't obsessed, just mildly curious. Ok, very curious, and confused. It wasn't like she made much sense before, but it was starting to get ridiculous. Same MJ, just way more open.

He let the thought dislodge from his brain as he shot a web at the next building and launched himself upwards, the sudden lurch making his stomach feel like it was almost in his toes. It was a rollercoaster-y feeling that he'd grown to love. The pure freedom that came with it was blissful. Yes, he should think about that instead. Blissful, free, float, hover, drift, fall, sail, MJ. Dang it!

Ok ok ok, just stop it. Think about something completely different. Pigeons. Peter thought Pigeons were pretty hilarious, other than all the random mites they liked to carry. It's why Aunt May was always so insistent on shooing them off the roof. But they looked so clueless all the time! What was that?

Peter had suddenly felt a whirling in his brain, like a gust of wind, or maybe a tornado. No, it was getting stronger. A hurricane? And it definitely wasn't his brain.

He swung until he was able to land on another concrete roof, high above the passing traffic. The silent chill in the air and slow breezes were insignificant compared to the torrent whizzing through his mind. It didn't hurt, it was like a torrent of ideas, not air. They flit past his consciousness, just barely in reach, and just as he was about to know what they were saying they spun back into the blur. And none of the thoughts were HIS.

Then, without any warning, one thought fluttered past his own that he could understand. -Ah, sorry this might be a little overwhelming. It's harder to reach you from a distance.-

Peter's mask nearly fell off and he spun around wildly. He knew somewhere deep down that whatever that voice was it wasn't material. But he was a little to freaked out to comprehend it at the moment. "Who are you, where are you?"

-Well, I don't have a name. And I'm pretty far from you at the moment. I haven't done this in a bit, I'm linked to my owner so it's much easier to talk to them, but you? It gets a tad bit complicated.-

As the voice spoke the storm of ideas started to subside, until it was a barely noticeable buzz in the background. "What are you?" He repeated, trying to sound sterner. Really, he was terrified. But his sixth sense wasn't going off yet, so maybe that was a good sign. But his attention was still trying to pinpoint the location of the voice and getting more confused with every passing moment. "What owner?"

-Please calm down, I promise I don't mean you any harm.-

"Who are you!"

-I don't have name. Though, I suppose a translation of a name I used to be called roughly makes out to be Perception. Does that help?-

"Uh, yeah, sort of?" He uttered, still half-panicking. "Where are you?"

-As I said, pretty far away.-

"A-and owner?"

-I'm not supposed to divulge that information. Maybe some other time.-

"How are you in my head?"

-We've actually met before. Granted, last time you didn't notice I was there.-

"WHAT?!"

-Seriously, not much of big deal. I quite admire what you're doing, actually. Very heroic.-

"S-so you know my secret?"

-Quite right. But don't worry, I haven't told a soul.-

"How in the world can I trust you."

-I've known for a while now. If I wanted to reveal your identity I would have done it by now.-

"Then why are you talking to me?"

-I was curious to see what you do out here. Plus, I wanted to have a little conversation.-

"What kind of conversation?"

-Nothing substantial. But you're Tony Stark's personal intern, correct?"

"Yes? Wait, wouldn't you already know that."

-I do, but it's polite to ask. Anything interesting happen recently?-

Peter weighed his options. Considering whatever that thing is was inside his brain, there wasn't much point in hiding anything. And it did make a good point of not having outed him yet. So he breathed a sigh and opened his mouth to tell it about one of the coolest things to happen this week. And that's when it clicked. Didn't Fury talk about a second Loki? A dangerous second Loki? Was this the second Loki?! Was it inside his head, reading his mind, plotting to take over the world.

His brow was slowly tensing with worry.

But it didn't feel like the taking over the world type, did it? But then again, who would have guessed Liz's dad was the Vulture? He had to tell someone. Mr. Stark, he had to call Mr. Stark.

-I suppose that will be all for now. Thank you for your time, Peter.-

And then the buzz was gone, and so was the voice.

Chapter Text

MJ decided Ned was very cheery. Very incredibly cheery and enthusiastic about EVERYTHING. It was funny at first, but it slowly descended into annoying. But somehow amazing. She had no idea how someone so horrible at world history could put a positive spin on a history final, but his declaration had flown out of his lips like liquid sunlight. Bright and happy.

She sighed as she walked through the crowded sidewalk and towards her apartment. She wished she could be more optimistic. It just wasn't in her personality.

She walked up to the building she lived in and pulled out her phone from her coat pocket. The place had implemented a new security system a few years ago. Apparently the HOA was afraid the neighborhood was getting unsafe, and didn't want people to move out. It wasn't much, just locked double doors with a keypad to open it. They'd recently changed the pass code, and MJ hadn't quite memorized it. So she quickly pulled up the notes app on her phone and punched the numbers in.

7

2

6

3

5

0

And the light blinked green and she heard a small, barely audible click. She hastily opened the door before it locked again and made her way inside, her body relaxing from the warmth that hit her skin. Maybe she really should learn that whole temperature regulation thing. It would come in handy in the winter, she could save so much money on heating. She climbed the stairs to her apartment on the next floor, replacing the phone in her palm for the keys and unlocking the door. She let herself in, closing the door behind her and shrugging off her coat, dropping it on the backrest of her couch and making her way up to the second floor.

She went into the bathroom and turned on the tap, running the water as cold as it could get and dipping her already freezing fingers into it. She hissed at the temperature, resisting the urge to pull away and concentrating on the warmth in the rest of her arm. She imagined it seeping in from the air and into her bones, and coursing through her veins like rivers of fire, melting away all the tension. She focused on the warmth in her clothing, the cotton shirt she wore was still tepid from the jacket she'd had on a few moments ago. She tried to think how it would stream into her muscles and into her hand.

Her hand.

Her hand which was growing all the more unbearably frigid by the second. And the more she thought about that the more she noticed that it was cold, and the cold was shooting through her and smothering any flame she thought she'd been able to conjure. Eventually she relented, shaking off the water and rubbing her hand with the other to try to regain some feeling in it, and turning the handle so that the water could run hot. She tested the heat with her still sort of warm hand until she deemed it warm enough and stuck both of them into the tricking liquid.

This was a whole new kind of pain, but this felt so good. Her joints hurt badly, but considering the warmth that was working it's way into her being at that moment she couldn't care. She held her hands there for a long moment before turning the tap off and drying off with a napkin.

-You still need some practice.-

"Yeah, yeah," MJ muttered dismissively. She was a little disappointed she couldn't get this as easily as the whole seeing without seeing thing, but she wasn't going to dwell on it.

-I would tell you to meditate, but I'm afraid I have some concerning news we need to discuss.-

MJ's head snapped up at that. "Ok," she drawled. "What is it?"

-You might want to sit down for this,- Book warned using the same tone she did.

"I can take it. After you told me I had ridiculous powers that I had to control somehow, I think I can take anything."

-Are you sure?-

"Book!" She said, emphasizing the word and leaning on the bathroom countertop. "Just tell me!"

-If you insist. I have good reason to believe S.H.I.E.L.D. is trying to find us. They've got our general location, but they're having trouble figuring out exactly where we are.-

MJ's breath hitched and she felt her heart speed up. S.H.I.E.L.D.. She'd only seen the name on the news before, only knew the gargantuan organization by reputation. The reputation that was supposed to be comforting. Even the name held the promise of protection, "shielding humanity" as they put it on TV. But now that reputation had suddenly turned on it's head. They were trying to find her, and Book apparently, but how? How'd they figure it out? That she had powers? She could feel the dread pooling inside of her thicken, like evil tree sap that chewed up her words when she tried to speak. She steadied herself, taking a few deep breaths. "They're hunting us?" Was all she could manage. She was sure her hands were shaking.

-There's no reason to panic.-

"There's - what??? How is there no reason to panic? S.H.I.E.L.D. is a super secret government group thing that helped fight aliens. Aliens! I can't fight, and you're literally a book! What are we supposed to do if they come after us?!"

-You mean 'when' they come after us.- Book clarified.

"You aren't helping!"

-This is actually a favorable situation for us.-

"And how is that?!"

-Before I tell you, you should know that S.H.I.E.L.D. has gotten Tony Stark working on a fix to their locating problem. They'll find us eventually, probably in the next few days. So I suggest being careful around Peter.-

Book's words were drowned out by MJ's frantic, "TONY STARK?!?!"

-Did you even listen?-

MJ took an extra few sizable breaths to quell the shaking in her nerves before replying, "Yes, yeah. Be careful around Peter so he doesn't suspect anything, maybe tell TONY STARK about it and make this situation even worse. Wait, he wouldn't do that. Would he?" Maybe if MJ just admitted the truth to him he'd help her with this. He could convince his mentor to help her hide, right?

-I doubt he wishes you harm. But this is a practical precaution to take. Do not tell him.-

"But shouldn't he know? If he stops trusting me-"

She didn't say the rest, half her brain wanted her to blurt out that as long as Peter trusted her she could use his connections to keep herself safe. And the other half spat at the it's companion for even thinking such a thing, and argued that if MJ betrayed Peter's trust they might not be friends anymore.

-He'll find out either way. But none of that will matter if S.H.I.E.L.D. decides we're a threat.-

"Don't they already think that?" She sighed.

-Probably. But luckily for us, they don't know who we are yet. And I don't think they'll suspect a book as what they detected.-

"How did they detect us?"

-I can keep magical beings from noticing us, but I've underestimated how far your technology has advanced. We're getting off topic.-

"Right, right," MJ muttered, rubbing her temples. "How is this a 'favorable situation'?"

-Fortunately for us, S.H.I.E.L.D. needs a good public reputation to operate the way they do. It's quite important to them.-

"And that helps us how?"

-If I recall correctly, you can now become one with the world, and traverse it as you wish.-

"Wait, no no no. That's a stupid idea."

-Use your mind to get into their databases and see what information you can pull. They've done questionable things, it's time to exploit them.-

"They'll never believe I could."

-Won't they? They specialize in dealing with unearthly things. This would be no exception.-

"Even if they do, what am I supposed to do with it? Wave it in their faces and give them another reason to lock me up somewhere?" Saying it out loud almost made it real. If S.H.I.E.L.D. thought she was dangerous her life was basically over. It was already over. They were going to find her, maybe dump her in a cell, and they could do whatever they wished with her. Her mom, she'd fight like hell to get MJ back, but what was she going to do? S.H.I.E.L.D. would just find another way to keep her mom quiet.

-Will you stop panicking?- Book said, tugging MJ away from her spiral of negativity. -All you have to do is threaten to expose their secrets and cause more trouble than you're worth. Threaten to ruin their reputation, and get them to make a deal with you.-

"But I can't expose their secrets to the world. What am I supposed to do? Post it on Instagram?"

-But from their point of view, if you managed to get the secret why couldn't you distribute it the same way?-

MJ stood there, confused. "You can't be expecting me to slander my way out of this? To lie to a bunch of human lie detectors? They'll call my bluff in seconds, you know this."

-Yes, I do. Which is why you won't be meeting with them in person.-

"You mean a phone call?"

-Yes. You can find a valid number when you search for the secrets.-

"You're underestimating our technology again."

-How so?-

"Well for one, calls are traceable. If I called them from my phone they'll figure out who I am. And they're security cameras everywhere. If I tried stealing someone else's phone and using that, they'd use them to find me. And even though I could make a deal with them saying that they can't come to my house or something, if they find out where I live and who I am, they'll just find something to use as leverage against me and make me do whatever they say. I have a family, friends! And I don't have a hacker to disable cameras for me so it's not going to work!"

-Don't dismiss the idea so quickly. Find a way to make it work.-

"This idea is insane!"

-Think, MJ.-

The teen sighed and slid down the wall. Might as well oblige. Book might be acting crazy, but it wasn't stupid. It must have some plan.

To make this work she'd need a public phone, one many people could access, so no one could find out exactly who did it. That was easy, there were tons of phones in public places. But she'd need one where there were no cameras watching her. Where would that be? The mall had way too many cameras, so did any random phone booth, and any store she went inside had one by the counter where the phone would be. She put a hand to her forehead, groaning with irritation. No, think, somewhere with a public phone and not many cameras. Her mind sifted through more places. Shoe shop, auto repairs, library, school...school.

-There it is.-

"No one would be able to find out who did it. Especially not in a high school, there's too many people. And not enough cameras, other than that one in the commons. I could avoid that one. I could do it when I'm supposed to be in a club. There's still enough people around to not be able narrow the list of suspects down too much. And if I do it fast enough, and big enough, they won't have enough time to come looking, they'll have to take whatever deal I offer."

-And even if you are bluffing, from their end it's still too big of a possible risk and not enough reward. We have a few days to prepare. Depending on how fast Stark works, I'd give us, at most, a week to pull this off.-

"This is absolutely psychotic," MJ mumbled, her hand moving down her face and muffling her voice.

-So we'd better get started.-

Peter had reported his encounter with the mysterious voice in his head to Stark almost immediately after he heard it, and unlike his accusations of the Vulture smuggling alien tech, Tony paid close attention to this.

"So," he breathed, staring at Peter with stern eyes. The hero was still dressed in his Spider-man garb, fiddling with the mask in his hands. "You think whatever we're chasing was in your head, asking you questions?" His voice sounded nonchalant and disbelieving, but Peter could feel the tension radiating off the billionaire.

The boy nodded aggressively. "Yeah, it was really weird. It's gone now, I think. It told me it was in my head before and I just didn't know."

"So it could be in your head now listening to this conversation."

Peter winced. "I guess so."

"And why would you leave that out!" Tony scolded, backing away when he saw Peter grimace and cringe away from him. He sighed hard, massaging his brow with his fingers. "Look, I'm sorry. But if this is another Loki situation, whatever this being is can't know about anything we're planning."

Peter chose this moment to reveal another important bit of info. "Well, my danger sense wasn't going off."

"It doesn't matter, kid. We have to assume it's in your head at all times."

Peter sagged. Guess he wasn't going to be a part of something big and cool this time either. He couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. "What if it's in your head too?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Then..." Tony looked at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. "Then we hope it isn't an evil maniac bent on ruling Earth."

When neither Stark nor Peter could think of anything more to say, Peter stood up with a sad bend to his posture. "Ok. See ya later, Mr. Stark."

Stark didn't even look at him when he said, "See ya, kid," back.

Peter pulled his mask back on, and leaped out the way he came. The window. He fell a terrifying amount stories down before shooting a web out at the side of the building and using that to slow his decent. He swung in a wide ark and let go again, falling for a bit and repeating the process. When he landed on the ground with a thump he heard it again. The voice of Perception.

-For the record, I have no interest in ruling anyone.-

Peter stumbled back with a yelp and clutched his head. "No," he said desperately, flailing to the left and bumping into the side of Avengers Tower. He looked up at the sky and peered at the top of the structure that was so far away. He didn't think Stark could help him. "Get out of my head."

-Peter, calm. Remember?-

Soothing waves of happy flowed into Peter's head, and the more he tried to block them out the stronger they got. "Stop it!" He growled, scratching at his mask like it would rid him of the stupid voice.

-Ok. I'll stop.- The waves screeched to a jarring halt, the worry in his head making him moan as all of it shot back into him.

"So you were in my head. Why are you here?"

-I want to ask for a favor.-

"No way."

-At least hear me out.-

Peter wanted to scream no at the voice as loud as he could, but he also knew that wouldn't help. "Fine. What do you want."

-Any information about how close Stark is to figuring it out.-

The solution to tracking the second Loki. "So you are what S.H.I.E.L.D is looking for. You and your owner?"

-Yes.-

Peter tumbled the thoughts around in his brain. Why would the voice tell him anything about itself, or even hint at it? "And in return what do I get?" He tried. He wasn't really thinking of accepting, but he was curious.

-What do you want?-

"A name," Peter said without thinking. "The owner's name." He didn't have to find anything. There was no way he could, anyway. Tony would make sure of that.

There was a pause before the voice spoke again. "Alright. In one week's time, you will find whatever you can, and by the end of it you will have my owner's name. Do we have an agreement?"

Peter thought about it. It sure sounded ok. All he'd have to do was stall for a week and Stark would be able to figure out the solution, and Peter would have a name to contribute to the face. "Your current owner," he clarified, remembering how this voice apparently had multiple over the years. like the one that named it Perception.

-Of course.-

Peter stood silent but then nodded his head at seemingly no one. "Deal."

-Deal.-

Chapter Text

"'I met with an acquaintance is not an answer. How did you figure out S.H.I.E.L.D. was looking for us?"

-I'm getting a sense of déjà vu.-

"Because you never give me a straight answer," MJ huffed as she fiddled with some paperclips. She'd bought a sizable set of paperclips of all different sizes and shapes from the craft store and was bending them into lock picks. She'd learned the ability when she was younger for fun, because she watched an old detective movie and got obsessed with the notion. Her mom even got her a small lock picking set for her 11th birthday, and she'd gone and picked every lock she could find. She would bring those picks to school with her, but paperclip art was something that was much easier to get away with if someone saw her with it. She had made a tension wrench and a rake pick, and she was thinking of making a snake or diamond pick next. She didn't know what kind of locks were at school, and she wanted to be prepared. The teachers locked the doors of their classrooms when they left, and she'd have to rely on one of those rooms for her phone call. "Would it kill you to tell me?"

-Technically, no. Would it kill you to not know?-

She made another bend on the paperclip she was working on. "Not dead yet, so no. Not literally. But it might kill you if I don't find out."

-So might as well keep more secrets dangling just out of your reach, for my sake,- Book joked, a smile in his voice. -You'd be too keen about finding out it is. You wouldn't kill me till you knew for certain.-

MJ just made another annoyed sound, not wanting to admit out loud that she'd do just that.

-We have time, you know. We could go check what kind of locks are at school first. And we can't do anything without some leverage.-

"Right, the leverage I have to get by sneaking into a freaking global bureaucratic organization with my mind."

-I'm sensing some agitation?-

"Some?" MJ nearly snarled. "Why am I even doing this?"

-You have no choice. Well, you do, except the other situation is one the both of us would like to avoid. It's also noteworthy that you're stalling.-

"Your point is?"

-You'll have to do it eventually.-

"Eventually."

-I want some sort of schedule, MJ.-

MJ groaned again. She didn’t hate scheduling. What she did hate was scheduling the dates of what could be her own demise. "How about after I make a game plan on how to sneak into one of the classrooms, find the ranges of the security cameras, and find a few desks with phones on them that aren't in the sight line of a computer camera? Isn’t that something I should do first?"

-Alright. Good enough," Book admitted, though it sounded slightly miffed.

After a few more minutes of silence, other than the hushed clinking of paperclips, Book spoke again. -You should get to bed. You have school tomorrow., and it's nearly midnight.-

"I'm good," MJ muttered, her brow furrowed in concentration.

-Clearly. Oh, and you can leave me at home today.-

That snapped MJ out of her trance. "What? You want that?"

-You heard me. I have some things to attend to.-

"Acquaintances?" She asked, unimpressed.

-Precisely. Keeping you alive and unchained is hard work. Especially with you being one of the most stubborn people I've met.-

"What exactly are you doing with these acquaintances, since you've made it clear you aren't giving me names," she pressed, taking the comment as a compliment.

-You could call it business.-

MJ squinted at the withered looking, tome-like thing resting on her bedside table. "Business? What are you buying or…selling?"

-Information.-

Her eyes somehow narrowed further, and her gaze had turned into a glare. "What information?"

-Nothing you don't already know. Quit worrying and go to sleep. And I don't just mean worrying about my contacts.-

The teen almost flinched at the thought of their plan again. There were so many loose ends  "How am I not supposed to worry?! If this goes wrong, we're toast. I can't stop thinking of all the ways this could fail."

-Trust me. If you've thought of it, then chances are, so have I. And I'm weighing the odds. They are on our side, you just need to believe in me and yourself.-

"Hard to believe in you when you don't tell me anything."

-That's where the trust comes in.-

"I've only known you for a week! Scratch that, less than a week!"

-And yet, that hasn't stopped you from doing everything I've told you to do so far.-

"I-shut up," MJ muttered. But Maybe Book was right. Maybe she should stop stressing out over this as much as she was, and try to get some sleep before tomorrow. It was Tuesday tomorrow, Monday today. If she was leaning on Book's prediction of having, at most, one week in time, Stark would find them by next Monday. So she'd give herself until Thursday to formulate a solid plan and get her stuff together, and she'd execute it on Friday during the decathlon practice meet, saying she had things to do. She'd come up with a better excuse later.

She hesitated, but slowly cleaned up the mess of makeshift lock picking supplies on the floor and put them in a small cloth pouch she'd taken from one of her board games, originally for storing marbles. She stashed it in the backpack, ready for the next day, turned off the lights, and flopped onto her bed. "They found you, what if they detect my energy signature the same way?" She said wearily, she was tired. She still couldn't believe this was happening. It was as if she was constantly trying to turn the situation into a sarcastic remark just to avoid the gravity it held. Her entire future was on the line, and she had no clue what she was going to do after the plan worked. Maybe that's what Book had meant by her "locking up her emotions."

-They certainly could.- It paused. -Are you aware of sleight of hand?-

"The thing magicians do?"

-Yes. That's what we're doing.-

"How?"

-I will let you know in time.-

MJ wanted to scream at Book, but found she didn't have the energy. "Please tell me," she whined, pulling her fuzzy sheets over her head and kicking the folded bits at the bottom into place.

-They won't be expecting it. That's all you need to know.-

"I should tell Peter and Ned," she said sleepily. Her head snuggling down in her pillow had made her even more eager to close her eyes and let herself drift into her dreams.

-They'll know eventually, I promise. You can't rush these things. Doing some things at the wrong time could get you killed.- It's voice had become quieter, distant, gentle like light rain that you didn't know was there till you realized your clothes were damp. And it was lulling her to sleep. -You have a busy day tomorrow.-

She wanted to say, "Yeah," but all that came out was a soft, "Mmhm." And the next thing she knew, she was asleep.

It was the next day, and to say MJ was fine was an overstatement. Or so Peter thought.

She was, for the most part, normal MJ. Well, the new open normal MJ. But she was acting different yet again. Nervous, maybe? The kept glancing at the doors of the rooms, windows too, and every other exit that was available. Even in the gym she stared at the blocky, metal ventilation shaft weaving through the beams of the ceiling and asked him, "You think a person could fit through that?"

And he wasn't the only one who noticed. Ned pointed it out as well, muttering things like, "Does she seem, I dunno, more tense than usual?"

After school, Ned and Peter were packing up and talking about walking home when MJ popped out of nowhere and interrupted, startling both of them.

"Sup," she greeted curtly. If she'd noticed she gave no indication of it. "You two go without me. I'm going to detention today."

"You have detention?" Ned asked with furrowed brows.

"No, I go because like watching people in crisis," she replied with a smirk as she rocked on her toes, and Peter gave an understanding nod. She sucked in a breath before turning and leaving both of them behind with a, "Later dorks!" And nothing more. But Peter couldn't help but think she looked a little twitchy as she walked, like she was afraid someone was going to climb out of the cracks in the floor and drag her into them. Maybe it was just his imagination, his brain playing tricks on him, but he wasn't sure.

When he had gotten back home and taken out his homework, that’s when the chaos started.

-What are you doing?-

Peter jumped out of his seat, looking around before realizing it was just Perception. The voice in his head. Again.

”Nothing,” he replied drearily. “Just homework. Why are you talking to me right now?”

-I would have figured you were on your way to Avengers Tower by now.-

“What, why?”

-To honor our deal.-

Peter resisted the urge to smile. Finally he had the upper hand. “Oh, yeah, that. I really don’t know if Mr. Stark would let me. I don’t know if I can.”

-Because it’s against the rules?-

”I mean, yeah.”

-Then you’d better get to it soon.-

Peter frowned in confusion. He thought he was being perfectly clear. He couldn’t. 

-Yes you can. You shouldn’t, but you can. Just like you can sneak into Tony Starks labs and get me information.-

“Wait a second, you can’t do that!”

-I just did, Peter. You said you’d do whatever you could. This falls in the realm of your physical abilities, so you’d better do it.-

“I didn’t agree to that! I-“

-I worded it very specifically. Do you want a name or not?-

Peter breathed a muffled grunt of irritation. “Dying also falls in the realm of can. Do you expect me to give my life if it comes up?”

-Of course not, then I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I’d be breaking my own deal.-

“You’re really annoying, you know that?”

-I’ve been told.-

”Can I finish my homework first?”

-The English project is the main part, correct?-

“Yes,” Peter said, pulling out his notes. “It’s a free write, we’re supposed to write a story. I need a good topic and a starting point by tomorrow. And I really don’t want to do it.”

-I can help.-

“How?”

-I’m quite creative.-

“I can imagine,” he replied dryly. “It needs to be based in reality somehow. We still need to do research and stuff.”

-Ok.-

“So that means you can’t just make up some magic-y gooble-de-gock and hope it works.”

-All magic in stories is based in reality, that’s where writers get their inspiration.-

“Yeah, well, I doubt mind control is something my teacher will like.”

-Firstly, I’m not controlling your thoughts. Manipulating them? Yes. But that’s your fault entirely.- Well that felt kind of harsh. -Secondly, mind control is not what I had in mind.-

“What did you have in mind?”

The amount of eagerness in Perception’s next words was hard to miss. It was the same sort of tone in a child’s voice when they were about to write a letter to Santa, or when a scientist or inventor rattled off theories. It was the kind of tone that meant there was going to be some quick and heavy stings of words hurtled towards you the next second, and Peter recognized it as the felt when he was solving equations with his mentor.

-You’re going to want a pencil for this.-

Chapter Text

"Ok," MJ said, slamming a piece of lined paper onto the desk. On it was a crudely drawn map of the school's second floor. The floor below the one used for decathlon meetings.  The D and E wings were on this floor, mostly language and art classrooms, and it was the art classrooms she was counting on. Specifically the art classrooms, the ones that had almost no cameras in them, but definitely a phone that could be used to call the office or the police in case of emergency. And luckily for her, getting from the decathlon room or the gym to the art classrooms could be done without getting in the sight of any of the cameras in the hallway, as long as she took a detour or two. It was almost perfect. Some of the classrooms on her map had little stars with numbers scrawled next to them. Those were the one’s she’d marked as the best to break into. 

She’d even decided to try out her makeshift lock picks on them, finding out quickly that she had been overestimating how good they were. The locks were easy to pick. People probably didn’t expect for someone to try to enter a locked classroom anyway

“There are eleven good rooms.” She pointed at the stars vaguely before continuing. “I’ve labeled them in numerical order from best to worse, and they’re all easy to get into, so this part should be a breeze.” She sighed. Even when she reassured herself of that the rest of her screamed that this was a moronic idea, and if she got caught doing this the consequences would be much worse than if she just turned herself in.

-Good work. Now…-

“No, Book. No. I’m already stressed out of my mind, can we please do this tomorrow?”

-It would be more prudent to get this done swiftly. We’ll have more time to prepare later.-

“Prepare how? We get the information, threaten S.H.I.E.L.D., and be done with it.” She’d put it as a final statement, a no more arguing type sentence, but Book apparently wasn’t getting the hint.

-Prepare mentally and strategically. You battle with your wits nearly every day, but never like this.-

"And you barely know me. I know you can read my mind, but I’ve been reading my own mind for over a decade now. I'm perfectly fine."

-You're not. If you were, you wouldn't be resisting it to this extent.-

"Well, like you said, I don't have a choice. So for all intents and purposes, I am."

Something that felt a lot like an irritated sigh came from Book. -This evening.- It argued. -No later. We'll need the info if something goes astray.-

"Like what?"

-Like what if Stark had a marvelous breakthrough tonight?-

Mj's thoughts screeched to a halt. She hadn't considered that. She'd kind of simply been relying on the idea that they had until the coming Monday to get this done.

-This evening, then.-

She wanted to say yes. How she wanted to say yes. But when she opened her mouth to agree something stopped it from coming out. It was that same fear from last night. No - the night she found out what was going on. That feeling of stones being dropped in her stomach and the feeling that made her want to run and punch something at the same time. Panic beyond what she'd felt before. Had she buried it so much it had barely shown itself in the first place? Had she forgotten who she was about to fight? Book was right, rest was important. But laziness or lethargy brought upon by fear and reluctance? It'd kill her in seconds. If she didn't stay two steps ahead of S.H.I.E.L.D. they were going to find her. This was a risky enough endeavor as it was, with hundreds of loopholes, why was she adding to it?

She steeled her voice, calming her clamoring mind before saying, "No." The words felt terrifying on her tongue. Book was giving her time. It was giving her an out, even if that out was just for a few more hours, but she wasn't going to take it. There was too much at stake. "We do this now."

-I'm glad to see you've come to your senses.-

"How do we start?"

-Sit down, legs folded and back straight. You remember?-

With a shaky nod MJ scooted to the middle of her carpet, doing as she was instructed and trying to stay as tranquil as possible. She brought with her a stack of lined papers and a pencil, ready to scratch out whatever she found instantly, and it was neatly in place near her lap. She kept her hands on her knees, forcing them to loosen up.

-Before we start,- Book began. -I want you to recognize that this will be incredibly draining. It will be hard and unpleasant, but I will be by your side the entire time. I'll help with it as much as possible, but you're going to have to do most of the work.-

Another nod.

-Good, now take a deep breath and feel the Snarl around you.-

MJ did as told, feeling the soupy strands of everything around her. Each and every tiny particle vibrating together, but not at the same time. Like one living, breathing being that thrummed with some primal heart beat that she didn't really understand, but could feel it within herself. Every breath she took, the farther the strands stretched, like fabric knitting itself together as soon as she felt it's existence. First the floor, then her room, then the house, the block, the street, the neighborhood, and then it was an endless blur. Hundreds of people, animals, plants, houses, roads, rocks, everything. Jumbled in her mind where she found it hard to tell what was what.

-Easy,- Book's voice came, starting distant but ending up as clear as ever. -I know this is hard but you have to keep going.-

The teen sighed, but relented. A few more breaths, she could feel Queens. All of Queens. Every rat tiptoeing in the sewers, every flickering light bulb, every footstep. And though it was easier than the first time she'd done it, it hurt. Like fire was crackling through her blood and brain, she could feel everything, every single little thing. from every tiny spark of the flame to every wildfire that shot through her body like a roaring rapid. Crashing through her very being.

-Just a little more, MJ. You're doing wonderfully.-

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Breathe...

It hurt so bad. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to keep going for much longer, but she had too.

Breathe...

This was the only way. Her shot at some inkling, some possibility of being left alone.

Breathe...

She knew S.H.I.E.L.D wouldn't just let her go. As much as she wanted to believe they were good, kind people, she also knew that her freedom wasn't worth risking the lives of everyone around her and they would try and detain her. But thankfully, her capture wouldn't be worth the same risk either. Outing enough secrets could put them in jeopardy, and the people they were responsible for would have a chance to wreak havoc.

Breathe...

She couldn't tell what was what now. What was which city, which neighborhood, which house. She could barely differentiate her own house from the rest of the chaos, and she was sitting in it. Despite the calming waves of energy Book was constantly sending her, her entire body was screaming at her to stop. Her subconscious was fighting to gain control and activate her instincts. When you got poked by a thorn, you flinch away from the rose, no matter how much you like it's flowery scent. When you needed air, you swam to the surface, even if you wanted to keep looking at the fish. It was the same primal thing that was making her want to pull out, to give up.

Breathe...

But she wasn't letting that happen. Not yet. She could pull an all-nighter even when her eyes were practically yanking themselves shut. If she could do that, she could do this.

-Hold it there, that’s big enough. I’m going to help you do something a little new now, try and keep yourself steady.- After the statement there was a swirl in the ocean of buzzing that surrounded her, and a tiny dot amongst the rest of it glowed with some kind of stillness she couldn't quite place. -That's headquarters. You'll likely find all you need there. Now, you need to focus on that, and only that. Tune everything else out.-

MJ barely registered the words, but she got the gist. She directed all her attention on that dot, which turned out to be a few million threads that connected to everywhere. She focused on the ones connected to her, or somewhere close to her, and started shutting the rest of it out. Bit by bit, second by second.

Now every breath brought a small amount of relief as some amount of the pool of buzz dissipated, and she clung to the threads she could with every bit of mental energy she had left. She gave them a solid wrest, tugging them closer as the rest of the world vanished. After what felt like a millennia, she was left with four threads anchored deep in her consciousness. So deep she no longer had to think to hold it, and she collapsed backwards, panting and shivering.

-Take it easy. You're ok, I’m here.-

"That sucked," MJ said, wincing as a bolt of pain rushed through her. Book's reaction to it was almost instantaneous, sending a breeze of something that made her body go limp, lax. Regardless she hissed, "I'm going to rip you to shreds and burn you in the fireplace."

Book ignored her words almost entirely. It sounded relieved. -You're still threatening to kill me.-

"Yes. Get it through your thick, fancy leather covers. I will turn you into ash, and I'll stitch your pages shut first. Along with the stupid, stuffy bookmark," she growled through gasps of pain. She was still shaking from the shock of feeling so much at once. Her head was throbbing the most, but the pain was radiating all the way to her toes and fingers. Even her hair felt like it hurt. It wasn't the kind of hurt that was caused by overworking your muscles, or falling on the floor, this was pain that she'd never felt before. It was like every molecule in her was vibrating faster than starlight and ripping each other apart and squeezing back together over and over again. 

-Duly noted.-

"All of this is your fault."

-You are correct. I shouldn't have underestimated your technology.-

That response was surprising. She was kind of expecting something saying it was all her fault because she went and decided to by a stupid book from the shelves of a stupid store. Perhaps a taunt about how it was the only way she was getting through this, or how she was bluffing. Or maybe a reminder to stop dwelling on it.

-But what is done is done.- There it was. -We can't change the past, only the future. And this is how we do it. Do you feel the connection?-

MJ gave the mental threads another tug, as soon as she did she felt the entire building that were connected to them. All the computers, all the documents, all the people hastening in it's many hallways, most of which she could vaguely make out. Headquarters. Her ticket to her best shot at complete freedom. It was bigger than she'd expected. It was big anyway, but it had a whole underground section she wouldn't have known was there. Not to mention the staggering amount of electrical connections within the building and radio waves dashing through and away from it. The amount of detail was also unexpected, and it made her head ache with something akin to a seizure. She groaned at it.

-Good. It's quite strong too. Impressive for your first attempt.-

"This is pure agony."

-You've mentioned.-

"It's true. Why can't you fix all this? Why do I have to do it?"

-My abilities are limited.-

"Whoever created you wasn't very bright, were they?"

-It's a safeguard. It was so if I turned against the purpose I was created for I wouldn't have the means to become unstoppable. I'm a teacher, a guide, not much more.-

"You're doing a splendid job of it. Torturous, self-inflicted pain via my own magic is a great way to teach."

Despite the tone being entirely sarcastic and dripping with libelous undertones, Book took it as a compliment. -I should think so. Now, rest for a bit. You'll need some energy in order to gather secrets.-

MJ didn't argue anymore, she didn't have the strength. She just closed her eyes and let herself drift into nothingness, feeling nothing except the invisible string tied to her and the residuum of whatever Book had done to help calm her down seeping into her thoughts. It wasn't long before it's gentle voice flowed through her head like a cool trickle of river water.

-Ready?-

She got up, slowly sliding back to the wall and leaning on it. "Yes," she croaked. She was still feeling the affects of being completely overstimulated, but now she also wanted this done as soon as possible. "Ready."

Time to hunt for leverage.

Steven Strange was in his home, now the The Sanctum Sanctorum. Frankly, it was huge. Gigantic. And he was still getting used to it. He spent most of his time in a couple rooms, every now and then wandering off into another and observing the magical artifacts hidden inside it's walls. They usually had an iffy description underneath all roughly translating to, "Any douche-bag that messes with this thing will regret it." After reading one of the very cheerful notes he'd try to find a book actually giving specifics on the object.

At the moment, he was in the middle of one of these adventures, flipping through a dozen books at once when he felt something bend. The tiniest wrinkle in space-time. He wouldn't have noticed it if it wasn't so close to him. Alarmingly close to him. 

Track it.

That was the first thing that he thought to do, and he closed his eyes, the books around him dropping to the floor with irregular thumps. He concentrated, sending his mind in the direction he believed the wrinkle had happened. A wrinkle most definitely caused by the mystic arts. And since it was his job now to keep tabs on this stuff, he considered himself obligated to making sure he knew exactly what it was. If one of the artifacts in the sanctum was being dramatic today, he should make sure it wasn’t anything dangerous.

He conscious swirled through the world, only half-connected to his body, when he zipped past the disturbance.

It was a thin series of strands in a dimension so small it was almost quantum, but the smaller ones were far more weak. There were a few though, slashing through the air and much stronger than the rest. It was still shaky, unstable, like it could break at any moment. Like someone was stretching their abilities to the very limit just to keep this thing from fizzling out of existence.

Strange wrapped himself around it, his mind trying to make sense of it. All he'd have to do, was follow it until he reached it's creator. Piece of ca-

-you need there. Now, you need to focus on that, and only that. Tune everything else out.

What was that? It was a murmur like a force of nature. Magic. It couldn't be anything else, and it definitely wasn't human. And it sounded like...instructions?

The man followed it backwards, from wherever the utterance came from. Or, at least, that was the plan. Before he even manged to get halfway to his target the connection vanished. Gone. Just like that. Strange's conscious snapped back into his body. What the hell? Things didn't just go away, it wasn't possible. They were always somewhere. Somewhere, in a another dimension, or behind a ward... It sounded feasible enough. Someone was powerful enough to shield their sorcery, keep it from being discovered. But who would do that? Why?

Strange was not optimistic by nature, and when someone was trying to hide, his first thought was that it meant bad news. Especially if that someone was strong enough to toss the Sorcerer Supreme off their trail like a confused little kid.

Good thing he wasn't a confused little kid.

Chapter Text

"I don't want to sneak up on Mr. Stark," Peter whined, quietly skirting along the dark corners. Thank goodness and everything else that Friday didn't tell Tony about his location in the tower. He was allowed to go nearly everywhere, spare a few rooms beneath the tower, where he assumed the Avengers kept only their most secret stuff, whatever that was. Admittedly, he was a little bummed about it, but Mr. Stark refused to give him access. 

-We could always back out of our deal,- Perception said, almost smugly.

”I don’t like you.”

Of course the annoying voice was acting like him saying no would have no consequences for it. It probably wouldn’t, it might just find someone else to manipulate. Which is what made it better for him to play along for now. Plus, if he did get the owner’s name, he could finally show Mr. Stark he wasn’t just a kid playing super-hero who needed to be protected from EVERYTHING all the fricking time.

-Not only that, but your need to prove yourself has been helpful to me.-

Peter flinched. He kept forgetting the Perception being in his head meant it could hear everything he was thinking. “I bet you have no friends other than that mysterious owner.”

-Are we not friends?-

“No,” Peter muttered grudgingly, even the thought of being friends with it offended him. Sure they had their good moments, but it was still not his friend. “You just admitted to using me for your own gain.”

-Who told you it was for my own gain?-

“Then what is all this for? Your owner?”

-Yes.-

Peter had to agree, with every bit of stubbornness trying to fight back against it, that was pretty noble. “What is gonna do anyway? Getting me to spy on Tony Stark? How is it gonna help?” He asked casually as he snuck through the passageway. He didn’t know why he was sneaking at all, it’s not like he wasn’t allowed to be here. Even without reading his mind, it was obvious he was just asking questions to try and milk some information, but Perception didn’t seem to care. It answered anyway.

-I don’t know.-

“So I’m doing this for nothing?”

-No. You’re gathering intel. I have some idea of what we’ll figure out, but I’m unsure of both Stark’s progress thus far, so I don’t know how useful the information will be. Regardless, any amount should be helpful.-

“But how though?” He pressed, checking around a corner for anyone else wandering the hallways. He didn’t know why he was doing that either, it was after hours, and his enhanced senses would have heard someone coming long before he saw them. Or they saw him for that matter.

-That’s not your business. What is your business is to stop looking so guilty. You look like an pickpocket that just stole a wallet for the first time.-

“How do you know what that even looks like?” Peter asked. That was mostly a joke, so when he heard Perception answer with, -Because I’ve trained thieves before. Oh, don’t be so surprised,- It added after he nearly tripped over his own legs. “So you are a villain.”

-Who said I wasn’t?-

“You.”

-I said I didn’t want to take over the world. If you think I’m a villain, I suppose I’m a villain.-

“And if I don’t think that makes you not a villain?”

-It’s purely a matter of perspective, Peter.-

”I guess,” was his grumbly response. He tried the straighten up and stop looking like someone was going to hop out of the wall and point at him shouting, “IMPOSTER!” Because he totally wasn’t any kind of imposter. He had permission to be here. He wasn’t even in the now forbidden (much to his chagrin) Tony’s-lab area yet. “Y’know,” he started, “if you hadn’t invaded my mind without any explanation I’d still be allowed in Mr. Stark’s lab and this would be a lot easier.” 

-This isn’t entirely my fault.-

Peter knew he should actually be grateful for the fact that it’d now be harder for him to give Perception what it wanted, but it was so stuck up that it’d be nice to get the better of it once in a while. He couldn’t help himself. “It kinda is.”

-No. My lack of explanation led you to go tell Stark, but your rash reaction was of your own doing.-

“I heard a creepy voice in my head!”

-Like I said. Rash.-

“It’s not,” he grumbled. “It’s logical. And you should have known I’d tell him. You were in my head.”

-And?-

“And since you’d have known, you could have told me not to do what YOU call ‘rash.’”

-Yes.-

Perception’s replies were puzzling. He wasn’t even trying to counter what Peter was saying. “Wait…you wanted this! You wanted me to go to Mr. Stark. You knew he’d ban me from his lab.” Hold on, that still didn’t make much sense. Why in the world would it want that?

-Your idol treating you like a kid - because you are one, by the way - would have made you more susceptible to taking my deal. We both know you have a bit of a pride complex. If he had let you in on what he was doing, you were more likely to tell him about my proposition anyway, so why not force him to keep you away?”

”H-how…” the teen managed, flustered. Perception wasn’t just planning things now, it’d been gently pushing Peter into whatever direction it wanted since they’d met. “That’s not fair!”

-And who are you to say what’s fair and what’s not?-

“I’m the person you’re practically controlling.”

-Which means my word takes precedence over yours, whether either of us want it, or not.-

Peter ground out something under his breath. “This is wrong, and you know it.”

-Wrong and right are terms as relative as the concept of being a villain.-

“Don’t try to defend yourself.”

-I never was. You can define me as whatever you wish. Oh, look, we’re here.-

He’d was standing in front of Tony’s private workspace now. The entrance was barely visible in the wall, it blended in almost seamlessly. The only thing that could indicate a door being there was the scanner beside it.

He pulled a small ID card out of his pocket. He’d managed to purloin one of Tony’s spares. It was a sleek, transparent rectangle with rounded sides, STARK INDUSTRIES printed on it in blue, and hiding most of the visible hardware inside the card were sharp patterns of red and gold. No doubt a nod to Iron Man.

He was about to flash the key card against the door when the it slid open with the hissing of air.

And standing there, facing him, was the man himself. Tony Stark.

Shit.

“U-um. Mr. Stark, er, hi,” he managed. Peter took a glance behind him. The room was well lit and large, processors and wires that snaked along the floor taking up most of the space. There was a multitude of screens showing a variety of information, the biggest of which had images of some kind of small shop pulled up on it. 

But he wasn’t very interested in that, instead he had to look back at his mentor, who’s gaze had landed on the fancy card in his hand. He nearly tried to shove it back into his pocket, but stopped himself midway through the gesture after considering how suspicious that looked, before realizing that his hand halting abruptly halfway to where he was trying to stash the card was even more suspicious.

He sucked in a breath and forced himself to look Stark in the eye. 

“Kid?” He asked, clearly an indication for said “kid” to explain himself.

Peter cleared his throat. “Um. I know what this looks like,” he said quickly. Maybe too quickly. Why the heck was he so bad at this? He made a metal note to slow down and opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by: “It looks like you were trying to sneak into my room.” 

“No I wasn’t!”

”Sure, kid.”

”I-I swear, I wasn’t,” Peter insisted, stifling the rising panic bubbling into his throat. “I th-thought I left my textbook in here last time I was here. I had the spare card and I thought-“

”You thought what? That it was ok to sneak in here without my permission when I told you not too?” Tony was giving him the most disapproving death glare possible.

Peter dragged from his memory how Tony always asked Friday to tell everyone to leave him alone when he was working, so he used that as an excuse. “Friday said not to disturb you, a-and I thought you were doing something important, so I-“

”Friday?” Stark said, his eyes still fixed on Peter’s. “Did Peter ask you about what I was doing?”

”No, sir,” the A.I. responded.

Peter could swear his stomach had tied itself into a million knots and his heart had migrated to his ears. He could hear its low thrum in it’s head like a furious drum beat, playing the tune of his untimely death.

Stark’s stare hardened. “You better have a really good explanation for this.” His voice was soft, too soft. Dangerous, like he was holding back his anger.

-Hey, it’s ok, you’re alright. But you need to calm down.- For once Peter didn’t fight the soothing waves Perception started sending into his mind, he let them ease the giant storm of fear and stress that had built up while he was attempting this. -Repeat after me…-

Peter did as he was told, restating the exact words Perception was telling him as normally as he could with his head down. “I-I was worried!” He blurted. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark, really. But you looked so mad the other day, I just wanted to make sure you were ok, a-and I know this was a stupid idea. I could have just texted you, or called, but I thought you were busy so I-“

Perception stopped saying things as soon as Tony spoke up. “Woah, kid. Slow down.” When Peter looked up he was surprised to see how confused his mentor looked. “Thanks for checking on me. But I’m fine. And we talked about coming into my office.”

More words streamed into his head and Peter recited them. “I know. I shouldn’t h-have. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Just-” he paused as Perception did, “-if you feel mad again, um, you could talk to me about it?” He even said them with the same tone as the ones that fluttered into his mind.

Tony cracked a smirk. “Who’s the adult here?” He said with a chuckle. He gave Peter a friendly clap on the shoulder and started steering him away from the room. “If I see you here again, you’re grounded,” he said, plucking the key card out of Peter’s hands. “And I’ll take THAT. Don’t you have homework to do?”

Peter nodded dumbly and sped away, desperate to get out of his earshot. Once he was certain no one could hear him he asked out loud, “What was that?”

-What was what?-

“You…how…how’d you know that would work?”

-You’d be surprised how much power love and friendship have,- was it’s easy reply.

Peter was genuinely surprised, and thoroughly creeped out that everything Perception had asked him to say sounded eerily like him. Almost exactly like him. It was mind-boggling, and terrifying, and he had the sudden thought that he’d been underestimating Perception. Not in terms of power, but in terms of skill and intelligence. It was like it had been doing this for ages.

-I have been doing this for ages.-

Right, mind reader. “You’re going to make me do it again, aren’t you? Spy on Mr. Stark?”

-Maybe. Not for the reasons you think. We’ve acquired some valuable information, it will prove useful.-

“Seriously? What is it?”

-Something you don’t need to know yet. Goodbye, Peter.-

And just like that, it was gone, and Peter was left there stumped.

Dr. Strange. He'd insisted people call him that, and he was finding there were some parallels to his calculated surgical skills in sorcery. Very, very distant parallels, but he'd take what he could get.

Picking apart strands of magical energy left behind by...whatever had just tore through space like a shard of obsidian glass. Or a sliver dagger. Or magic. That was a onerous task indeed. And even after multiple hours of searching for the source, he'd barely gotten anything. He did manage something though.

It was different to say the least, like he'd leaped into someone else's mind for the barest of seconds before immediately getting catapulted back out by some invisible force. Again, magic. But this was GOOD magic. A stunning display of power in a simple warding spell. Not at all the most complicated thing, but hilariously effective. If it wasn't so irritating Strange would have been amused, maybe even impressed by what he'd witnessed. He didn't know the spell, but it had to be hundreds or thousands of years old. This was ancient magic, probably the reason why he was having such a hard time tracking it down.

When he was in this other mind he saw what they saw, heard what they heard, felt what they felt, but any thoughts running through their head were all but blurred out. Like they'd been censored. He felt the rough wood of a pencil that had been the victim of a copious amount of chewing in his mouth, along with the piney taste of it. He could feel fingers holding it in place, smooth paint under them. It must have been a habitual thing, the chewing. The other hand was tapping something out on a calculator, which was resting on a pink worksheet filled with algebra equations. Their hands were small, but slender, nearly bony. And they were the color of chai. The soft, muted color of buttercups bathed in sunlight. Except they were covered in the harsh white light of a lamp. The air smelled like jam, raspberry jam, and new books. But after that the details started to get a little muddled.

He could remember curly bronze hair falling over their line of slight, and the warm glow of fairy lights hovering over a cork board in the corner of their eye. He thought they had the hum of traffic in their ears, and the sounds of a dishwasher rumbling elsewhere. And beyond that, everything was a blur. Nothing stuck, and no matter how many times he replayed the events in his head, Strange just couldn't get any more out of the memory.

But now he had some idea who he was looking for, and he was going to find them one way or another. It was his job, after all.

After the whole ordeal of stealing secrets from a freaking underground government organization, MJ had needed rest. Mental rest, which she refused to give herself no matter how many times Book commanded her too.

-You can't just start doing homework. You need to sit down, relax.-

"But I need to do it."

-You can do it later.-

"Then I'll be too tired to do it."

-And you aren't tired now?-

"I'll be tired as in sleepy later."

-MJ...-

"I've been 'resting' for the past couple hours."

-You've exerted too much mental energy in a magical endeavor of that magnitude. Homework will only worsen the toll.-

"Your fault I had to do all this."

-Yes. My fault. And it will be your fault you didn't heal quickly because you couldn't listen to your guide.-

"I'm fine."

-No, you're not.-

"Yes, I am."

-MJ, sit back down.-

"No."

-Now.-

"No."

They argued back and forth for a while before Book finally relented, complaining about how it wished his physical form was a little more mobile than a hardcover novel. MJ had been worried that Book might try to force her in other ways...such as shooting lightning through her body again, but it looked like it didn't want use it's power any more than she wanted to feel it.

She made herself some toast with jam spread over it, which later remained untouched, and did the dishes, making sure the kitchen was in order before leaving for her bedroom to get some schoolwork done.

About halfway through her algebra homework she felt a twinge in her mind. Like a pinch, or the snapping of a rubber band. It was gone quick, but she had no clue what it was. "Book?" She asked hesitantly. "Did you feel that?"

-I did.-

"That's not normal is it?"

-No.- It's voice was still as calm as ever. A cool forest canopy holding still in the wind. -But it's nothing to worry about.-

"You better not be lying."

-I'm not.-

But MJ didn't believe it. Book may have been slowly gaining her trust, but she had to remember that if she wanted to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D. she had no other choice but to work with it. For all she knew, it had gotten itself caught on purpose to land her in that very situation, no matter how apologetic it acted about it. It could be playing her.

The whole question of "why me?" still thrashed in her head now and then. Why was she the one? Why'd she have the special connection? Did she pick Book, or did Book pick her? And it added a whole other layer of mistrust onto the matter. She didn't believe she was special, she wasn't that gullible.

It felt like how a scammer that would call her saying she'd won a stupid amount of money, but she needed to pay the outrageous shipping costs. In this case she'd won a stupid amount of power but she needed to do whatever Book said to keep herself safe from its terrifying consequences.

But she couldn't turn back now.

That was the whole problem. If this was a trap, she'd fallen into it the moment she bought Book and didn't return it, even when she thought it was the most annoying thing ever. All because her mom had gotten it for her.

Could she have made the worst decision of her life? Maybe. Could she just be a pawn? Possibly. But if she figured out it was using her, she'd burn it. She'd claw her way out of the pit she'd fell in and set that dumb book on fire.

-I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.-

Chapter Text

Thursday oozed by slowly. MJ was mostly making sure her plans were intact. Double checking her routs, making more lock picks, reviewing the information she was going to say. And before the end of the day she was sick of it. Why'd the world pick this moment to be so crumbly?

Friday morning was just as slow. Painstakingly so. MJ just wanted to get all of this over with. She'd figured out early that morning that her top four picks for the room she was going to break into were being used. One was for a club, the other three happened to have a teacher in it. Something she couldn't afford.

Thankfully she'd found multiple, so this wouldn't be a problem. She went with her sixth choice instead of her fifth. The fifth had no cameras whatsoever, and it was perfect in almost every way, except it was her art class. It might have been an opportunity to confuse someone, but S.H.I.E.L.D. would definitely check the classes held in the room the call came from first, and she wanted to delay them as much as possible. The room she'd actually decided to use was for chemistry, normally for juniors and seniors. Since she was a sophomore, it was unlikely she'd ever be in that room, and there were no cameras near the phone.

She also had to keep in mind that once she'd partially outed herself, S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to take her seriously. There was no way they wouldn't, they still had secrets. Inhumane things they did which didn't get revealed to the public when they got dismantled. Secrets she now knew.

It filled her with a guilt to keep herself so detached from the victims of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s bad decisions, but Book had recommended it. It said it was to keep herself sane, but she thought it was also to stop herself from filling her head with more horrifying thoughts of what might've happened if she had ignored Book and turned herself in. What could still happen if she was considered a big enough threat.

And it was bone-chilling. She saw files upon files filled with information about dangerous mutants who'd been killed, experimented on, and treated like fail-safes that the organization could use if a situation got too bad for regular agents to handle. Like a weapon. And some of these people weren't bad, they just had powers that S.H.I.E.L.D. deemed deadly or uncontrollable.

It made MJ's insides feel heavy even thinking about it. She felt angry and terrified at the same time. What was she doing?

The question raced through her head again. What WAS she doing? She was sixteen, she wasn't ready for this. But she was too scared to even let herself get captured at this point. She knew it would be bad before, but now? It was so much worse knowing what could happen, even if the chances of the worst coming true were slim. Maybe that was part of Book's plan.

She tried her best to ignore it as the day rolled by and school ended. She jogged up to the floor the meeting was and shook out her limbs, getting rid of the nervous energy before opening the door. She stepped into the bustle and chatter of her teammates settling in for a day of practice. Mr. Harrington was up in the front of the classroom writing things on the board when she saw Ned waving to her from the corner of her eye. She looked to see a huge grin plastered on his face, Peter sitting at his side. "Hey MJ!" He called when she turned to him with a disinterested look.

"Come over here!" Ned said, beckoning her over. She smiled at him, walking to them with confidence. Her entire demeanor had shifted as soon as she knew other people could see her. Her hands at stopped flexing at her sides, her shoulders had dropped, her chin was tilted up, and her eyes held the glittering embodiment of indifference.

It was forced, all of it was an act. A ruse designed to keep others from trying to get her to talk about the way she felt. Was she ok? Was she sure? Was she doing alright? Was there anything wrong? She hated those questions, and now it was more dangerous than annoying, because if she got caught she didn't have an excuse. So she kept it up, acting normally despite the pool of dread churning inside her. Maybe she'd missed her true calling as a drama kid.

"Sup, losers," she greeted, leaning on the table Peter was sitting at. "Is Mr. Harrington busy?" She made sure her words carried over the voices of her classmates, and when he didn't so much as turn towards her she considered her suspicions confirmed. Her brows went up slightly at the realization.

"Yeah, I think he is," said Peter, clearly looking in the same direction along with Ned, and thinking the same thing.

"Yeahhhh," Ned agreed. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing much. Can you tell him I'll be gone today?"

"Uh, sure!" Peter said with his usual enthusiasm. "C-can I ask why?"

"I'm running errands," she explained with a shrug. "Send me today's notes?"

Ned and Peter nodded at the same time, and she waved a goodbye to them.

As soon as she was out the door again, she turned the corner and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. MJ didn't think she'd hate lying to them, especially about something this big. Something she wanted to keep a secret. She'd let no one know, not even her mom. But spitting excuses at her felt the same as spitting excuses at them. Maybe she trusted them more than she told herself she did. They didn't question her when she did said gruesome things, didn't avoid her, they liked spending time with her. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had actual friends. Real friends, ones she could count on.

-Are you doing alright?-

"No. Why would I be?" She spat back quietly.

-No reason. It would be more concerning if you were.-

MJ chose to ignore Book, working her way to the lower floor slowly, ducking under classroom windows. She didn't know why, it's not like anyone would question her if they saw her walking around. Even if they did, it wasn't like they would remember her. She was likely just being paranoid. Even being as silent as possible, to her, her own footsteps sounded like a horse was trying to tiptoe through the halls.

She reached the room she was planning on sneaking into slower than she had expected, which didn’t sound good. Maybe she should practice. She inhaled shakily, her lungs brimming with anticipation.

Shrugging off her backpack, she pulled out her paperclip lock picking supplies. The slender pieces of brightly colored metal were cool in her sweaty palms, sparkling dully. They were like knives, but instead of cutting through greens or flesh, they broke down doors with grace and precision.

She bent down next to the keyhole and slid the picks into it, using one to hold the lock steady and the other to maneuver it through the pins. It was a slow process, she didn't have too much experience with it, and it was noisy too. The sounds of clinking metal echoed through the empty, tiled passages, announcing her presence to what felt like the entire school. She was really hoping no one would walk by right about now.

Thankfully, the lock gave with a satisfying click after a minute of struggling, and MJ slipped inside the classroom quickly. She closed the door behind her carefully, making sure to make as little sound as possible. She leaned against the wood in relief. She was in. But that hard part was still waiting for her.

She avoided the computer in the corner completely, afraid it might have a camera that could capture her movements, and walked over to the old looking phone resting on the desk. She closed her hands over the plastic, and lifted it up, hesitating.

-Breath, MJ.-

"This is stupid," she whispered.

-You're going to be fine. I promise.-

"I'm scared." She thought admitting it out loud would make herself feel better. It didn't. The trepidation was still lurking in her mind, telling her the authorities would burst though the doors right now and drag her away.

-I know. But you're ok. I told you nothing bad would happen to you on my watch, and I meant it.-

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

-This is dangerous, granted, but this is the best option you currently possess. I will be by your side every step of the way..-

"What if you're hiding all the better options from me, you could be-"

-Yes, I know. I've heard it. All of it. The theorizing, the speculation, your doubt, your fear of me. I hear it now. It’s near constant when I talk, and quite impressive. it's shown me just how clever you are.

-And with that intellect, you must have realized that even if my actions are driven by malicious intent, I don't want to get caught any more than you do.-

MJ considered it, staying silent.

-How about we do this together then?-

The teen sighed, crumpling under the weight of the apprehension she dug her hands into the corner of the table and nodded.

-Remember, use a high voice. It'll make it harder to discern your identity. And say what I say.-

She dialed in the number she had memorized at this point.

-Breath.-

For once she listened, and waited, waited until someone picked up.

Phil Coulson didn't expect his personal cell phone to buzz in his pocket today.

When someone like him got phone calls, it was usually for work, and it was usually through his standard Shield issue cell that couldn't be traced. If anyone was calling from his personal phone, it must be someone he knew, or so he thought. As soon as he almost automatically held up his device, he saw the caller ID being unknown. That threw him off a little.

There were only a few people who had this number. It was both vague and barely followed a normal phone number format, so it was unlikely this would be a wrong number or a potential scam. The other two most likely options was that one of his fellow agents was using a different phone, or a toddler was trying to prank call him. He nearly chuckled at the latter thought.

He was working on a case revolving around Tony Stark's attempts at finding what could be a second Loki, or maybe worse. At least Loki had announced his presence with an alien invasion. This guy seemed content with staying anonymous.

It was hard to say whether it was unfortunate that nothing else had come of it. Hopefully their mysterious target was a pacifist. Maybe they were biding their time. Or, in the worst scenario, they were setting up to wreak havoc and somehow doing so under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar.

Regardless, if this was Fury calling or someone with important information, he didn’t want to miss it.

He brought the device to his ear and spoke the first words. "Hello."

The voice the responded was squeaky and almost strained. It was difficult to tell, but to Coulson they sounded nervous. "Hello." It was if they were trying hard to keep their voice from shaking. "So, you're Phil Coulson." It was a statement, not a question, but Coulson responded as if it was one anyway.

"Yes. Who is this?" Definitely not someone he knew.

"The person you're currently hunting."

The agent resisted the urge to suck in a breath. "Does this person have a name?"

"Not one that's important, but considering I have yours, it would be reasonable to assume you're a little tense?"

Understatement of the year. Coulson was already rushing out the door of his office, leaving it open as he sped to communications, walking just about as fast as he could without drawing too much attention to himself. As we walked he talked, ignoring their question entirely. “What do you want?” His voice was the same one he used during interrogations. Quiet, calm, but dangerously so.

”I have a request. Stop looking.”

Coulson put the call on hold as he walked up to one of the desks, roughly spinning the chair of another agent scrambling to close the game he was playing on his computer. He really could care less about the slacking at this point. “Trace this call.” He ordered quickly, unmuting his mic and replying, “And why would we do that?”

”Because despite what you told the public, you still have secrets. Ones I know about. Just the ones about weaponizing gifted civilians could fill a book.”

He stilled. He had too. Yes, they’d lied, the operations the person on the other end was talking about existed. But Coulson had tried his damn hardest to shut down the ones he could. “That was a while ago.”

”I doubt the public would think it that way.”

He wanted to say something else, but the high voice continued talking. It had been a little difficult to take them seriously at first, but even the shaky tone couldn’t keep the gravity out of their words. “I can give examples, if you wish. Ava Starr, Ghost, the one that can phase through walls. Apparently she broke your leash after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, but it was on for, what? Nearly her whole life?”

”Enough,” Coulson said in a harsh tone. It was one thing they still had experiments on mutants running, but if the public found out they did the same to a child, they’d go berserk. The organization Coulson had worked so hard to keep running would be torn to bits in a matter of weeks if they didn’t shut down the chatter fas enough.

It was safe to assume that if this person had acquired this information, distributing it would be a cinch. And with recent events, it wasn’t like they wouldn’t believe it either. “I can try, but I don’t know if I can do that.” Might as well try to bargain.

”Of course, of course. Being part of a system does have it’s disadvantages, doesn’t it? I completely understand.”

Well that seemed good to be true.

”How about this. I’ll get back on the phone with you in a few days time, and until then you’ll halt your search.”

”My superiors won’t be happy.” Why were they not trying for more time?

”They’ll be more unhappy about the public revolting against the government’s authority.”

”Touché. How about we just halt Tony Stark’s efforts?”

”Reasonable enough. Do we have an agreement then?” Why were they agreeing? Did they know they were going to be tracked

He looked back at the screen, noticing both him and the agent in the chair his hand was still on were staring at it with a desperate look. The agent probably just wanted to impress him, but Coulson needed the location of this call, stat. The seconds were ticking down. About forty more seconds and they’d have their location. Coulson stalled for a couple seconds, pretending to hesitate.

”We do.” Keep them talking. “When should we talk?”

”Tuesday evening seems like a good time.”

If he said yes now, the call would end. He glared at the timer. Twenty eight seconds.

”I’m a busy man. I’ll need a more exact time.”

“4:00.”

”Five.”

”Alright. I’ll call you by this number.” Nineteen seconds. He could see the location narrowing on the map. Their target was somewhere in the city, somewhere in New York.

”One more thing.” He waited, hoping they won’t hang up. When they didn’t he almost sighed in relief. “What guarantee will I have that you won’t leak our secrets anyway?”

There was a pause. “You don’t have one. But you have my word that if you break yours, I’ll make you pay.”

”Ok,” Coulson replied. There wasn’t much else he could say. “I’ll get Stark off the case as soon as the call ends.”

Two seconds. One.

The line cut off, and he gripped his phone in frustration, staring at the table with his lips pressed into a thin line. Until the agent beside him started stammering. Until the agent blubbered out those amazing words.

”We got a hit!”

Chapter Text

“They can trace calls, and I'm pretty sure they had enough time to do it” MJ said, half panicking. The other half was just glad that actually worked. “You better have a plan for that.” She'd tried to end the call sooner, but the stupid Book had warned her to not. It was clearly drawing out the answers like it wanted to keep the conversation long. What was that all about?

-I do.- Book said, words rippling through her mind like crackling glass. She’d listen to it, again. And she didn’t have much of choice, again. It hurt. MJ shook herself off, S.H.I.E.L.D. was likely on their way right now. She could wallow in regret later. -It's whatever your plan is. Figure it out.-

“Book, this is no time for jokes.” What was it thinking?! Was it lying to her about not wanting to get caught? No, that couldn't be it. To her knowledge, it hadn't really lied to her before, just withheld information, but what was stopping it from lying now?

-It's not a joke. You need to learn to think on your feet. -

MJ clicked the phone back into place, making sure everything was like it was when she came in. "Not the time!" She repeated through clenched teeth. "OR the place!"

-You're running out of time.-

"BOOK. I'll get caught! They'll find out!" She could feel the tension and fear clawing at her lungs and ribs like a caged beast, eating up any confidence she had. She could feel sweat on her brow.

-Calm down. You're certainly smart enough to do this. A fairly easy out, just think.-

As soon as she started thinking she realized she had no clue how accurately S.H.I.E.L.D. could pinpoint her location. Maybe to just the school, or maybe even to the specific phone. She had to get away from the phone.

She flicked her hands into her coat sleeves and wiped off all the things she touched or could have touched with them. No point in leaving any fingerprints. She scanned the surfaces for hair, strings from her clothing, anything that could be easy to find. Hopefully they wouldn't try a full investigation first, not wanting to cause a big ruckus. Staying in the shadows was what they valued. After looking over at everything she deemed it was clean and continued.

Get away from the phone.

She pounded out the door, using her sleeve to open it, and slamming it shut behind her. She rubbed at the doorknob too before sprinting down the hall as quietly as possible. Which was not very quiet. Her feet hammered the tiles and the echo pulsed through the air like drum beats. She used the banister to slide down the stairs to avoid the noise. She had hoped to cleverly skirt around the cameras, but instead it felt like she was scrambling and clawing her way to the art classrooms like a crazed animal.

The fact that Book hadn't acted to tell her she had more time or that she was losing it only served to reinforce her fear. She shot past the doors, feeling the air whizzing past her and her feet barely touching the smooth floor. If she tried to corner fast or had to suddenly stop, there was no way to do it without slipping. So she was really hoping no one would get in her way.

She stopped near the vending machines by the gym, the ones the school had exclusively made dump out healthy food, most of which had probably just gone stale sitting in there for months. She leaned against one of them, considering her options.

Right now she was on the bottom floor, meaning she had access to all the exits, windows included. There was quite a bit of greenery around the school, trees, bushes, a park. And though it was the start of October, the trees hadn't shed all their leaves yet, and should provide ample cover if she decided to run. There were several exits she could take.

The doors leading to the back would be a good option, so would the ones in the front and on the sides. The windows would be a last resort, since to get to one she'd have to go through a classroom, or if things got really bad she'd have to break one. But it shouldn't come to that, it couldn't, she couldn't afford to make any kind of scene.

So the doors then. The front doors would be less suspicious, but they were in sight of a camera, so the side doors were the ones she made her way to. She went along the edges, going around the commons to avoid being captured on footage, and going under the big classroom windows along the walls until she got outside. Outside. 

The exit she'd picked was behind a wall. She made to speed walk away, but found herself immediately stumbling back towards the door and out of sight. She'd seen a man sitting on the bench outside the school, causally reading a book.

Normally the scene wouldn't have sent her running, but as soon as she glimpsed his olive coat and the flash of his red hair, stark and vibrant against the dry grass, her heart practically did a somersault. Fear nipped at her ankles and neck. Something was wrong...very wrong.

The rational part of her mind was chiding her, telling her it was no big deal. But her subconscious was screaming, thrashing. Not right! It cried. Get away! Get away!

"It's just a guy reading," she mumbled to herself, trying to quiet the screeching in her skull.

She'd felt this before though. Not this intense, and never in this situation, but this feeling. Whenever she drew things ever now and then her mind would tell her something was off, even if she could never pinpoint what. Maybe the eyes were just slightly too close together on a face, maybe the branches weren't wide enough on a tree, maybe a leg was too long on a dog, it was hard to tell.

It was like the feeling she got when she was doing math and got an answer she knew was wrong, or when for some reason it felt like it was going to rain and it did.

It was some sort of gut feeling or intuition. Intuition that had a pretty good track record for being right.

She should trust it.

She furrowed her brows and clenched her eyes shut as she thought, any reason this situation might feel strange. Then it hit her. What was a random grown man doing on school grounds? He wasn't just close to school grounds, he was right there, next to bushes near the flagpole. Why? Maybe just a parent?

She looked out, just barely, just enough to get a good look at him, and watched.

For the longest time, nothing happened. But that was just it, he didn't even turn the page. At all. She stared at him for at least a good ten minutes and didn't see him once turn the page.

That was suspicious on it's own, but the weird bit happened when one of the teachers came out, Mrs. Burding. She worked in the office and handed out tardy slips to the students. She was tall and lanky, with big, square glasses, curly blond hair, and a posture slightly hunched from age. She strode out to meet the man with her hands crossed, probably questioning why he was there. The man had stood to greet her, smoothing his coat and folding his hands in front of him. The two conversed in what felt like an argument, a tense, passive one. She observed, waiting for the man to leave, when he pulled out something akin to a wallet from his pocket and showed it to Mrs. Burding.

The lady almost looked flustered as she turned and walked back inside, and to MJ's horror the man simply sat back down and continued "reading".

MJ pulled her eyes away. So, that was definitely an agent. So they HAD tracked her, at least to this school. She sighed in frustration, her breath taught with worry, as she made her way back inside.

She walked to the back doors, waiting behind a pillar and pretending to be on her phone as a few chatting students meandered past her. When she glanced out the window, carefully making sure to not be visible to anyone watching from outside, she was greeted with a similar sight. Two grown ups on school grounds having a very long conversation.

That was perfect. If they'd covered the front and back of the school in the minutes she'd wasted spying on the man in the front of the building, it was clear their resources weren't spread thin. If she attempted to leave right now she'd be a high priority suspect. Not something she wanted.

She considered going back to her own club, but she'd already told them she was going to run some errands. There was no excuse she could think up that would be completely immune to scrutiny if she and her peers were questioned by the government. Plus, as much as she liked her teammates, so far Ned and Peter were the only ones she was sure would have her back if things turned sour, and two out of twenty wasn't a good ratio.

What would be believable?

She wasn't going to join another club, someone could say she came in late. She could hang out in the library, but the decathlon members sometimes went down there. She didn't want to risk being seen, they'd think she was skipping meets on purpose and then lying about it.

MJ nearly laughed at herself. Here she was, being hunted by the government after threatening them over the phone, and she was worried about her classmates thinking she was skipping. No. She needed something better.

She started pacing the hallways, no longer in fear she was going to get caught. The agents wouldn't come into the building. If they wanted to, they wouldn't have come undercover like regular people. But everyone in the building was a suspect now. She had to find some way to make herself untouchable. She'd masked her voice already, avoided the cameras, but now she had to trick her teammates and whoever else she talked to with a solid alibi. If she didn't, the chances of her getting caught would rise higher than they were already.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, chewing her lip and letting her shoulders fall. She'd been bunching them up for so long now it had begun to hurt, and the backpack weighing her down wasn't helping. 

Excuse, excuse, excuse, she needed somewhere to be. And fast. That's when she saw it, a familiar scene. Her algebra classroom, the entrance propped open with a doorstop and beanbags visible inside. She stepped in confidently, realizing her teacher must have gone out not long ago. No one else used this classroom, so they must be in school since the door was open. This would make it easier. She sat patiently at one of the desks, smiling at them as they finally walked in. "Um, do you have a minute?"

The teen collapsed into her bed as she arrived home. Finally, she had a good excuse. Her teacher was helping her with understanding some topics in the unit, and she'd lied to her friends because Flash was there and she'd rather him not overhear her struggling with her homework.

Lies. Complete lies.

-That was good.-

"You left me alone."

-To your own devices, and you were able to get yourself out of a rut. Stop scowling, you should be proud.-

"I'm mad. What if I had been caught?"

-We both know they weren't going to arrest you.-

And they also both knew that they wouldn't launch an investigation until they were absolutely sure about who they were trying to capture. They're whole thing was keeping everything quiet. For now they'd probably stick with surveillance, asking the adults questions and making them sign non-disclosure agreements before moving on to the minors. Though, MJ probably had taken significantly longer to realize that. "Still, that wasn't nice. I was terrified."

-And you did wonderfully despite that. We need to talk.-

That got MJ's head whirring, gears turning. She tipped her head towards where Book was, on the bedside table. "About?"

-Some of your questions. How I knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was after us.-

She rolled over on her side, listening intently as she fixed her gaze on the hardcover, the silver constellations on it's spine glinting in the lamplight. "Your acquaintance?" Was she finally going to get some answers? "Mind telling me why you were worried when I was sick too?"

-Not yet, you'll know about my concerns in time. But I will reveal his name.-

His name.

-It's Peter Parker. Your friend.-

MJ snapped up into a seated position and glared, her eyes wide and burning with fury. "WHAT?! And you kept that from me?"

-Yes,- Book said with a voice just as calm and neutral as it was when they started the conversation. -You want to know why, I suppose. Like I said before, you're inexperienced.-

"You were using him, weren't you?" Her voice was thick with distrust.

-Yes, I was. To keep you safe.-

"What about him?"

-Stark knows I've spoken to him. He trusts S.H.I.E.L.D. no more than us, regardless of his recent cooperation. He'll keep Peter away from them.-

That was concerning on so many levels. "No, I mean if Stark found out what he was doing, spying on a giant government organization..."

-Peter was never spying on S.H.I.E.L.D., he was spying on Stark. And he did get caught.-

What? But he was at school today, this wasn't making sense. "You helped him get out," she figured, but..."How'd you manage to get him to do what you want?"

-I promised him your name.-

Of course. Peter, the guy who spoke so fondly of his mentor. It was clear he looked up to him. Now he knew they were on some giant manhunt and Peter had the small chance to help. To prove himself. Of course he'd try. In the little time she'd known Peter, both as classmates and friends, she'd gotten a good read on him. He was stubborn and impulsive. Figuring the rest of what happened between Book and her friend was child's play. "You didn't just use him, you manipulated him," she realized.

-Yes.-

MJ rubbed her eyes with her palms. She didn't know what to think anymore. Book continued.

-Notwithstanding my words, you've wanted to tell him about all this from the beginning.-

"Yeah, Ned too."

-Would you like to?-

"You know I would," she said, half with spite. Of course Book knew she'd say yes, it'd known that from the start.

-How would you prefer to do it?-

Peter had been walking out of school Ned by his side, part of some of the last students to trickle off campus, when he head the voice crackle through his thoughts again. Perception.

-Hello, Peter.-

Peter staggered, eyes bewildered, and Ned took notice. "Hey dude, you ok?" But then his face went rigid as well, Peter understood why. feeling Perception's presence was like being hit by a blizzard while being sucked into a whirlpool. His friend hunched over, clutching his head, tense with panic and breathing hard.

-Ned. Hello as well. I'm sorry, I know this tends to hurt the first time.-

Peter managed to catch Ned as he lurched sideways. "Hey, Ned, NED?"

Ned groaned and managed an, "mm'm fine."

-Don't worry Ned. This is temporary, the pain will subside given a minute or two. I'm trying my best to stop it.-

It was talking to both of them at once now, and with a hurried voice.

-Get away from the red-haired man, Peter.-

Before Peter could ask what the heck Perception meant he saw someone else help hoist Ned up, concern lining his features. He was wearing an lightly worn, olive green coat and he had red hair.

He didn't know why Perception wanted him gone, but the seriousness in his voice was heavy enough to not be questioned just yet. "Are you ok?" The man asked. What was this guy doing on school grounds? Must be a parent.

Ned must have heard that too, as well as Perception's words, because he hastily stepped away. "Oh, yes sir. I'm ok sir." He patted his head with a pained grin. "Just a headache, y'know? Too much homework. Actually, you might not know, since you're old. I mean, you're not old! You look great! Not old at all. I just meant you don't go to high school anymore. I mean, it's fine if someone your age does, nothing wrong with that. I just meant-"

Peter cut off his friend's blabbering with his own nervous words. "Uhh, he's fine. He's normally like this."

Ned nodded in complete agreement. "Yes, totally. Always like this."

The man just looked confused, about to say something else, but Peter was quick to stop him. "We should get going! He has painkillers back home, it's fine." He hooked an arm over Ned's shoulders and guided him away as quick as he could. He could feel Ned struggling a little to keep up, and Peter empathized with him.

A few blocks later and Ned felt perfectly fine again, other than the fact that his head was buzzing, as he described it. Much to Peter's relief, Ned thought it was really cool. Creepy, but cool. Peter wasn't sure he could share that sentiment, but laughed right along and answered all Ned's questions after the brown-haired teen insisted on it.

It wasn't until they'd gotten a good ways away from school that Perception spoke up again. -Wonderful. You're together. Makes my job so much easier.-

Ned beat Peter to the punch. "Your job?"

Peter was actually surprised with how calm Ned was with the random stream of thoughts running through his brain, or maybe even the fact that Perception was super evil and just toying with them. His optimism and mirth was unparalleled, and strong to the point where Peter felt his own spirits being lifted. "We had a deal," Peter said. It was pretty much the end of the week now, he was due for some answers.

-My owner want's to meet you themselves.-

"Both of us?" asked Ned.

-Yes.-

"H-hold on, why Ned?" He didn't want to drag his best friend into this mess with him.

-You'll know. They'd like to meet you at Central Park, if it quells your worries, Peter. A place with witnesses in case the catastrophe you're imagining comes to life.-

Peter really didn't like that Perception could see the person he was thinking up. The scene his mind had conjured was standing in front of a figure cloaked in darkness, commanding swirling shadows that circled them and everyone else around them like sharks. They'd laugh and ask for some unforeseeable demand, threatening to swallow the world with endless twilight if they refused to comply. "I want a name first."

-No.-

"You promised."

-Please. I know you don't trust me, you have every reason not too. But do this. It's someone you both already know.-

"C'mon Peter. How bad could it be?" Ned asked, probably having some guess to what he was thinking. That was the nice thing about being best friends.

Peter sighed and rolled his shoulders back, clutching the straps of his backpack with both hands. "Fine. Central Park it is."

Chapter Text

"What the hell Coulson!" Fury demanded, glaring down his friend and subordinate with a stare of a angry hawk. "You made a promise with what could be a murderous god to halt the search without MY opinion?"

Coulson kept his eyes on Fury's, keeping his gaze as cool as possible. "Yes, sir."

"Are you trying to undermine my authority here?"

"No, sir."

"No, sir," Fury repeated, scoffing. "The world could be at stake here."

"I know, sir." Coulson could see his boss was furious at him, but he knew his vehement nature at this point. It wasn't entirely purposeful, it had grown out of rough, dry soil and turned hard with time and death. The death of his friends, crew, nearly himself, maybe even his family. He didn't have the clearance to know, what he did know was he and Fury had some kind of mutual respect.

All Fury was waiting for was an explanation, and he'd just given Coulson an opportunity to speak his mind. "I didn't have time to consult with you. Whoever they were, they were perfectly capable of dealing a huge blow whenever they wanted. I'm surprised they didn't ask for more in return for keeping quiet."

Fury already knew of the threat, he lead a underground bureaucratic organization tasked with finding and keeping secrets, that was his job. "Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know. It could be a trap, which is why I've gotten a few agents to keep track of everyone who leaves the school. We'll be able to bring them in later."

"No."

"No?" Coulson asked, puzzled.

"We aren't bringing them into my base, and we can't let our target know we've started investigating," Fury explained.

The agent got the gist. "Quiet surveillance it is then. Should we keep the minors under watch as well?"

"Yes. But don’t engage." Fury paused. "I want a full report on my desk in an hour. Names, pictures, relatives, hobbies, their damn favorite breakfast. I want to know everyone who was in that school like I am them, understood."

"Understood, sir," Coulson echoed, backing out of the room. "I'll have it done in thirty."

"Good man."

MJ fiddled with the sleeve of her coat. She was going to undo the stitching at this rate, but clearly that was the least of her problems.

The biggest problem was her stupid, betraying heart dropping and spilling happiness into her soul the moment she saw Peter and Ned saunter into her sight line. She stood from where she was sitting on the bench near the gravely road, away from most of the other people, her hands in her pockets.

She could see the looks of confusion on their faces, their surprise. That was fine, she'd had many people do that to her. But what crushed her was the way they, Peter mostly, approached her warily like she was going to sprout teeth and claws and attack them. She held on tighter to Book, clasped in front of her chest. It had insisted to come along.

They didn't seem to take much notice to it.

MJ tried to smile, but it ended up more as a pathetic attempt at one.

"You're...the owner?" Peter asked, disbelieving, silencing Ned's questions with a pleading look.

"Yep." That reply didn't do justice to the situation. "I-I'm so sorry, I wish I could have told you guys earlier. It's just that Book, well, it told me not too." She made sure to let her disapproval seep into her tone.

"No, no, that's fine! We understand, right Peter?" Ned asked, nudging his friend with his shoulder. Peter hadn't yet gotten over his shock, his eyes fogged with a mix of emotions. Sadness, joy, but above it all was terror. Pure terror. He nodded tersely.

"You ok Parker?" asked MJ. Did she seem that monstrous now? She stared at her friend, biting her lip and throwing a questioning glance at Ned. Ned just shrugged and called his name again. The teen was immobile, the space between his brows knitted together as his eyes darted from MJ's face to Book.

"So, that book has been talking to me? The one you brought to school that one time." He asked.

"To us. I call it Book, it doesn't mind. It's been, uh, teaching me some magic."

"Magic?" Ned asked curiously. "Really? That's so cool! Hey, do you think I could learn magic."

Book chuckled, the soft sound vibrating through MJ's head. And based on Ned's delight and Peter's wince, so did they. She didn't know it could talk to multiple people at once, whenever it wasn't with her it was with it's acquaintance, Peter. But she probably shouldn't be surprised at all, considering the fact she still knew almost nothing about it.

-Anyone can learn magic, Ned. But I currently have barely enough patience to teach headstrong teen.-

Ned cracked a smile at the joke. MJ felt her own brows raise at the taunt, a smirk playing at the corners of her lip before she glanced back at Peter. He still had that look sweeping across his features. The one that made any hint of cheer wither out of her face. "Peter?" she tried again.

His eyes locked with hers with a desperate glimmer. "I don't know who I was expecting."

"Flash?" MJ smiled.

Peter returned a weak smile back.

Well, better than nothing, but it disappeared just as quick as it came, replaced by worry again. "We, I-Mr. Stark! S.H.I.E.L.D., t-they're looking for you! I almost-I wanted to-your name-" Ned calmed him with a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I was going to tell them your name when I found out. Oh, god. They'll be looking for you. Mr. Stark is probably close."

"Book and I just took care of that," MJ reassured, tiredness finally settling into her bones. She felt so sleepy she could take a nap right here, a really long nap that would last till next week. "Stark is off the case, for now."

Peter looked dumbfounded, Ned looked confused, MJ wanted a pillow.

Book laughed again. -Peter, Ned, I assume you have questions?-

"What did you figure out, when I spied on Mr. Stark?" Peter blurted.

-Ah, yes. Two things, how close your mentor really was to finding me, best not to rely strictly on assumptions, and how much he loves you.-

Peter blinked. "Why is how much he loves me important?" From his tone it sounded like he already had taken a gander at what the answer was going to be. MJ on the other hand, was almost certain she knew, and Book's next sentence only showed her she was nearly spot on.

-To get him to make the choices we want him to make.-

"'We'?" Peter growled. "There is no 'we'. You think you can just come and mess with my friends, with me?"

"It's not," MJ said and Peter glanced at her, eyes widening in surprise. "I mean, I don't think it's messing with me yet. It insists on helping me, and as far as I can tell, never lies. It keeps information from you, yes, but never lies."

"But it got me in trouble, on purpose! And it made me spy on Mr. Stark! Clearly, it doesn't need to lie to do bad things."

-I made you do nothing. You took the deal, and even when I suggested calling it off you made the decision to play along.-

"You-"

-Enough, Peter. I am aware of what I am doing.-

"Dude, that's messed up though. You're thinking of making TONY STARK do what you want?" Ned said, apparently reevaluating his opinions on Book. "Through Peter? I'm sorry, as his guy in the chair, I say you can't do that."

"Book, you'd better have a great explanation right now," MJ said, holding the thing out with her arms stretched as far as they could go. As much as she hated Book for ever considering manipulating Peter again, she wanted to hear this.

So far, all of Book's plans had been in one way or another to keep them from being caught. And besides, if she started disagreeing, it'd probably find some way to execute it's schemes anyway. It did before, right under her nose, she had no doubts it could do it again. This time she'd rather be included.

-I do. Peter, Ned, you care about MJ.-

Peter nodded, something clearly brewing in his head.

-Don't worry, I'm not going to threaten her. But S.H.I.E.L.D. already has. They consider us enough of a threat to have Stark looking for us.-

"They consider YOU a threat," Peter corrected.

-MJ now shares the energy I released when they detected me, as her connection to magic has been activated. A detail I'm afraid they won't be stupid enough to miss. Now, listen. Not a lot of people will have the guts or the resources to confront the government, Stark does, and it's imperative we have him on our side. We can't stall them for long, but he can.-

"You want a more permanent solution," MJ breathed.

-Yes. Now with Stark off the case, Peter can get you to meet.-

"But why not just go to him before?" Ned queried.

-I doubt Stark would help MJ if he knew, but he might help Peter's good friend.-

Ned continued. "But why didn't you go with Peter before?"

MJ was wondering the same thing. Why go through the trouble of facing off against an organization to stall them, if this was the final plan? They could have just gone with Peter then after telling him when this whole thing started. Why do any of what they did today?

-Why do you think?-

MJ shrugged at her companions, noticing they looked just as confused. Unless, this was never the final plan, which it probably wasn't. But then what was?

Book had said it wanted to keep her safe from S.H.I.E.L.D., and everything had made so much sense so far. They would scare the organization long enough to craft a deal that would make them leave her alone, and she'd maybe keep learning magic? If Book was even planning on teaching her, what did it gain from it? Maybe so she could defend herself? Leaving her to figure her own way out of the school seemed to be Book's version of practice for a similar, maybe worse plight.

-Do you really think I'm dumb enough to not realize we could have done this without alerting S.H.I.E.L.D. at all?-

Better yet, what did it gain from revealing her location to S.H.I.E.L.D. during the phone call when they could have just gone to Stark? "D-did you want them to know?" MJ asked. Now S.H.I.E.L.D. actually had a shot and finding her themselves, they knew what school she went to! They probably knew every person in that building present at the time of the call, it was only a matter of when.

-Yes.-

"WHAT?" Peter yelled as Ned's jaw dropped and MJ hissed, "Are you INSANE? We spent all that time avoiding S.H.I.E.L.D., just for you to get me to do something that would lead them right to us?" She had the overwhelming urge to chuck Book into the nearest fountain.

-Insane is also dependent on perspective.-

"This is nuts." Peter also looked like he wanted to toss it into the fountain, and was drawing a hand down his face in resentment. "This is so nuts. MJ, what were you thinking!"

"This isn't my fault!"

"I know, I know, but now what? If we tell Mr. Stark he'll go crazy."

-That's why WE aren't telling Stark anything. You are.-

"C'mon man, I just got on his good side," Peter whined.

"Yeah, but the whole Vulture thing was crazy too. It can't get worse than that." Ned's statement caused Peter to look at him with a face that screamed shut up! and MJ's head snapped towards him.

"Vulture?" MJ questioned, hitting Ned with one of her looks. The one that reeked of suspicion, the one that caused him to shrink away from her. A few theories started bubbling in the back of her mind but she quickly smashed them before they could lead her off track. "Never mind, that's not important. What is important is S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to look for me again, now with a new lead." She fought the unsettled tone threatening to take over her voice, swallowing hard before moving on. "We have to get Stark on our side, or I'm done for."

"Done for?" Ned asked apprehensively.

"I could disappear and never come back," she confirmed.

"But doesn't Tony Stark hate you? Peter said he hated you."

"He doesn't hate you," Peter was quick to correct. "He hates Perception."

Perception...right. Book. That's what Peter called Book, Perception. That was going to be a little confusing, but they could discuss names for the artifact later. Right now, MJ was just glad these two stalwart idiots had decided to help her on the spot with pretty much zero explanation, even after she hid something this huge from them. "Book, er, Perception already has a plan, I think. Maybe we should listen to it."

"But it got us into this mess," Peter argued. "What if it does something worse? What if this is all a big trick?"

"Then it's all a big trick. Do you have a better idea?"

Peter's sigh was all the answer MJ needed. She looked back at Book, the flower pressed into it's cover gleaming at her. If she didn't know better she'd say the inanimate object looked smug, even taunting her. "Now, you have been finding a way to keep dodging my questions by giving answers that explain absolutely nothing. I want a straight response this time. Why did we go antagonize S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

-You're already halfway there to figuring that out yourself.-

"What did I literally just say?"

-If I give you a straight answer you'll never learn to think. I've seen your lessons at school, they teach you facts but not reason. It's really no wonder the three of you are so dense.-

MJ was about to say how Peter was actually one of the smartest kids in school with some of the highest grades, with Ned and herself not far behind, but remembered that grades wouldn't really matter here, would they? She sighed. "How about a hint?"

There was a length pause. Finally, it said, -Alright. You've already deduced that I wanted to leave some breadcrumbs for S.H.I.E.L.D., what else do you know?-

"You want S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave you alone?" Ned asked, unsure.

"But that makes no sense," Peter countered. "You want to attract the attention of someone you want to avoid? It's an...it's an oxymoron."

-Precisely.-

"You want S.H.I.E.L.D. to leave us alone, by noticing us?" MJ rephrased, wracking her brain. If Book was indeed her enemy, she was in for a heap of trouble. She could barely decipher what it was plotting, even with hints. "Maybe because we threatened them, they'll leave us alone. But you've already said that we can't stall them for long."

-What is the best way to get them to leave us alone?-

“Not getting caught?” MJ contended, indicating how strongly she felt her opinion still stood with the poison in her tone. Unfortunately for her, Book didn’t seem to think her stance mattered right now.

-To quote you, not the right place OR the right time.-

“But once Stark gets S.H.I.E.L.D. off our back-“

-Stark can’t.-

Any thoughts MJ had in her mind were held in place with confusion. 

“He can’t?” Peter asked, definitely the same amount of confounded. Maybe even doubtful.

-Not entirely.-

“He’s ignored them before, he told me.” Peter argued.

-At the risk of his life or freedom, he’s not going to put yours in jeopardy.-

“So then what is the best way to get them to leave us alone?” MJ asked. One straight answer. Please, just one. That was all she wanted.

-S.H.I.E.L.D. is a bully. What would you do if someone was bulling you?-

Oh, come on!

“Ignore them?” Ned suggested.

-Ignoring S.H.I.E.L.D. is as good as a death wish,- Book replied clearly. 

“It’s not avoid them,” MJ wondered aloud.

-It’s certainly not, our bully is motivated enough to come find us.-

“And we can’t fight them…” Peter added, crossing his arms.

-Also a death wish.-

There was a break in conversation as the three of them thought. Or two of them. MJ was just hoping Book would give them the answer, they didn’t have all day. It was going to have to spit it out at some point. Maybe it was time she brought it up. “You can’t keep us here forever. Just tell us already.”

-I don’t have to keep you here forever. Instead I could keep my plans a secret, force you to come up with your own, and help you with those. Or I tell you to do something and without any better solution you’d follow along anyway. And if you ultimately get imprisoned doing your own stunt, well, not my fault.-

“But you don’t want to get caught either.” Finally, she could call it’s bluff.

-I never said that.-

“Wh-you did! You told me I must have realized that you don’t want to get caught.”

-Just because you realize something, doesn’t mean it’s true.-

Peter was right; Book really didn’t have to tell a single actual lie to twist her brain into a pretzel and make her do whatever it wanted. That was a incredibly distressing thought that she didn’t want to think about at the moment. “But this is true.”

-Fine. Let’s entertain the idea that it is. It still stands that our freedom is plainly more important to you than it is to me.-

The discomfort in the air was tangible.

-So, are you going to excogitate a plan?-

Was that amusement? She swore she heard amusement there. If she did, that meant, “You’re enjoying this.”

-Oh yes. This is hilarious.-

MJ scowled at it with all the venom she could muster, thinking it wouldn’t have any effect, and she saw both her friends (mostly Peter) were attempting to do the same. But to all of their surprise, Book caved.

-My idea might seem ludicrous. We’re not going to fight S.H.I.E.L.D. nor hide from them, the only two options you’re considering.-

“What’s the third?” Ned asked excitedly, somehow growing slightly more impatient by the second.

-We’re going to befriend them.-

Chapter Text

Book answered their next questions with only a little frustration from MJ and what felt like complete transparency, but probably wasn't.

Who was the guy with red hair? Agent.

Why'd we threaten S.H.I.E.L.D.? They're less likely to mess with us if they see us as an equally powerful being it said. They would think twice about lying or breaking deals, and it reduces the chance of them considering us as assets, not allies.

What was Peter going to tell Stark and when? The truth, it said. With some discretion and a little guidance from Book, over the weekend when all four of them were in Avengers Tower.

How were they supposed to get into Avengers Tower? Peter was going to ask nicely. They figured that one out themselves.

Peter had the sudden thought that this could destroy the relationship he had with his mentor. He was not allowed in Tony’s labs, and now he was bringing the source of Tony’s strife into building?! Not only that, but he had made a deal with it and was now working with it to help it not get caught. MJ could see the frustration in that.

-You’ll manage,- Was Book’s short answer, and it nearly made Peter ears start smoking. MJ could tell Peter wanted to ask more questions, but the only one Book wanted to answer was, "But MJ is a good person! S.H.I.E.L.D. is good too, they won't just disregard that!"

-Of course they won't. They may in fact use it against her.-

"That's not what I meant."

-Peter, MJ has almost no close relatives of friends, as well as no online presence. It would be hilariously simple for S.H.I.E.L.D to relocate her to a secure facility, and with her being both a potential liability and a resource for a new insight on mutant powers, I doubt they'd pass up the chance. No offense to you, MJ.-

"None taken," MJ replied, but really she felt like she'd been punched in the jaw several times and told it was nothing personal. She'd figured out that her usual discontent towards socializing that had rooted itself inside her all those years ago would come back to bite her, but not in this way. Not once did she ever think that her not making friends and joining hundreds of clubs at school would result in being an easier target for the government. Even thinking about it, it sounded like some ridiculous internet conspiracy theory, but it was real and she was wrapped up in it real deep. It made her sick with worry and anger every time she thought about it.

Peter looked just as mad, furious even. He tried asking for more, but at some point Book merely stopped answering. Ned put a hand on his friend's shoulder, who was staring at a fountain in the distance and likely thinking of chucking Book into it. MJ empathized with that more than she'd admit.

"Perception?" Asked Ned.

-Yes, Ned?-

"You don't sound evil...but if you aren't why won't you just tell us everything?"

-Telling you everything will take more time than we have, and will result in more yelling from you three. Not a pleasant experience mind you, especially when you're listening through three sets of ears at once.-

Ned's hand went to his ear self consciously. "Wait, OUR ears?"

-My view of the world comes from the way you perceive it. I can safely say Peter's hearing is the best here, that MJ pays the most attention to her peripheral vision, and that Ned's paper cut stings, but not as much as the scrape on his knee he acquired when he fell earlier today. My fault, sorry about that.-

"No, it's fine," answered Ned, eyeing Book with caution, bewilderment, and the same excited glint he had when playing with legos or coding.

”Either way that’s not an excuse,” MJ objected.

-You aren’t ready. And it doesn’t matter how hard you try to pry the information out of me, you aren’t going to get it. So, please, for all of our sakes, drop the matter.-

After that, Book was quick to rush everyone home. There was no point in staying if they weren’t going to figure anything out. And MJ was happy to get home and get into the kitchen. She had some bagels left over from a few days ago, she might as well eat them before they became too stale and hard to bite into. She quickly made herself the snack, toasting the bread lightly and spreading cheese on them for extra flavor. She needed the snack, the day had been homework heavy AND stressful because of her new powers getting her into trouble. 

She went up to her room, placing the plate with her bagel on the desk and pulling out her homework. She opened her curtains as well, the natural light bathing her room with a warm glow that welcomed her into the space. She smiled at her homework, something she never thought she’d be doing EVER, but the hints of normalcy were her best friends right now. Even if that meant taking extensive notes from her history textbook.

She flipped the massive thing open to the “Gunpowder Era,” pulled out her notebook and opened up to a brand new page, starting to format Cornell notes. Cornell notes were also a normally despised activity. Specifically Cornell notes, even Venn diagrams didn’t annoy her that much, and Venn diagrams were particularly annoying.

She mindlessly, mechanically, read the passage and jot down rough notes. China, Europe, the Mongols later getting involved, all the good stuff she’d already known for ages now. She wasn’t really paying attention, history wasn’t a hard class for her, she was just writing down what she saw. Not how you were supposed to take notes, but it looked like she did the work and it was all that mattered.

She took a bite out of her bagel, getting cold from her forgetfulness. She tried to not get crumbs on her hands, even thought it was inevitable, so she dusted them off on her plate and wiped off the rest on her shirt, getting back to homework.

-How long till you finish?-

The rumbling sound in her head sent chills running up and down her spine. Nope. Not again. Not today. She ignored it, returning to her work. If Book wasn’t going to answer all her questions there was no reason she needed to answer all its.

-This is important. I suggest you listen to me.-

"This is also important," MJ argued, nibbling at her nails. "If I start missing out on homework, people will get suspicious."

-That's why I'm asking you how long it will take you.-

"Long."

-No matter. It's the weekend tomorrow.-

The teen slammed her pencil onto the desk, hard. It shook under her force, mugs containing writing utensils and other things in the corner rattling from the impact. "What is it?" She spat, irritation in her voice.

-You need to master temperature regulation.-

"Not this again."

-You have a head start thanks to the connection you share with the Snarl. Normally, even after this stage, I'd ask you to do things like simple telekinesis to strengthen your mind further, but your special situation has convinced me it's better you learned the basics of spell writing first.-

That caught her attention. Spells. Like actual spells.

Nope. No way. Stop. Stop getting excited. MJ buried her emotion back down. Book’s going to regret teaching her to think. “Why is it better?”

-Self defense.-

“Against who? The government? Because if I want to ally with them, fighting them is a stupid plan.”

-Not the government. Not entirely.-

“Explain.” It was a demand. She was surprised she got an answer.

-I can’t for the most part. But I will say S.H.I.E.L.D. leaks. I am positive they are going to study you and your abilities,-

“What?!” She interrupted, an enraged glimmer shining through everything about her. Her eyes, her face, they way she bristled as soon as the words flew through her mind. How was it being so casual? “And you’re ok with this?”

-Yes. It’s not a choice. They’ll want to be able to control you if you get out of control. It’s a simple precaution, one that any sane person would take, and I’ll make sure it’s nothing beyond that. Relax. Now back to the matter at hand, the information is going to get out at some point. You may have genuine enemies faster than you’d like and you need to be able to fight.-

“Hence spells?”

-Yes. And hand to hand combat.-

“Hand to hand combat? I-wha-you can’t move.” She pointed out. How was Book going to teach her to fight without arms, show her a mental slideshow? And who was she going to practice with? Ned? Peter? Her mom didn’t have the money to send her to classes, most of it went to getting her financial ticket into Midtown. And her dad…well…she doubted she could even get into contact. Maybe she could beat up Flash.

-I’ll worry about that. But before that spells, and right now temperature regulation.-

She sighed. Book had a point, she had to admit that through her pigheadedness. She was barely more than a week into having weird magic powers, and she’d already had more hectic panic and chaos than she wanted, and it easily dwarfed anything she’d felt before, she felt more fear for her future than ever. And it wasn’t just about getting into college.

If she needed to fight, it already seemed inevitable, she wanted to be able to in a way that wasn’t simply flailing her fists in desperation. She wanted to make sure she could win. Correction, not just win, but reign victorious and make sure anyone watching would be too terrified to merely breath in her presence.

She closed her textbook gently and brought herself to her feet, giving herself a moment to stretch. “Fine. I’ll do it. Got any tips?”

-Are you scared?-

“A little. Why?”

-Answer me honestly. Are you afraid?-

MJ paused. What was the point of this? “I’m terrified,” she mumbled.

-Good. My advice, don’t hold your fear back, but don’t let it control you either. Find that balance. Fear is a tool, it keeps you alive, use it. Make it work for you.-

“How?”

-That’s up to you to figure out on your own.-

She grunted in response. “You love making things difficult, don’t you?”

The next hour of her time was spent trying to “balance her fear” as Book put it by dunking her hands in a plastic bowl of ice water she’d gotten from the fridge, and had been refilling once it got warm from her own body heat getting sucked out from her fingers. Maybe the trick was to keep the heat inside? No, that worked horribly. As in not at all.

-Let it go, don’t hold back.-

The more freezing the water got the more numb her hand felt. It was so cold her fingers ached like they’d been broken at every joint. She couldn’t move them right anymore. She yanked her shivering hand out of the water for the last time, wrapping it in the fabric of her t-shirt and then shoving it under her armpit. “I don’t get it, what am I doing wrong? I’m trying to let it go, I’m trying to get my body to generate more heat, but it isn’t working.”

-You aren’t doing anything wrong.-

“Then shouldn’t it be working?”

-No. You just haven’t figured out how to get it to work yet.-

”Then I’m doing something wrong.”

-Not accomplishing your task isn’t the same as doing something incorrectly. You just need some time. You’ve already opened up enough about your own mental state to do this successfully, I promise.-

“You’re not helping.”

-Look at your foot.-

“What?” She must have heard it wrong.

-Look at your foot.- Book repeated. 

Confused as she was, she obliged, pulling off her sock and flexing her toes.

-Move your big toe without moving your other ones.-

She did it for the most part, easily, still completely unsure of what was happening. "What's your point?"

-Getting to that. Do the same thing again, only this time move the toe next to your big toe.-

When she tried, all her toes moved. She tried again, with the same effect. She did it again, all her toes moved expect her big toe. The next, her pinky toe shot out to the side. That wasn't right. Now that she thought about it she had no idea how to move that singular toe. Actually, thinking about it was getting a little weird. She was doing toe coordination practice with a mystical artifact she found in the back of a store.

-See? Your subconscious is trying to figure out which muscles to move to do what you want. It doesn’t quite know yet, because you’ve never attempted this before. You aren't doing anything wrong, but it might be a while till you have a breakthrough.-

"So you genuinely couldn't help me with this regulation thingy? It was a mental issue?"

-I'm not trying to unreasonably make things harder for you. And it wasn't an issue, this is normal.-

"So I just have to keep doing it until I get it," she stated, pulling her shaking hand back into vision. It was nearly back to normal. She clasped and unclasped her fingers around her palm multiple times to try and regain some feeling.

-Yes. Best get to it then.-

"You might be dealing with a witch."

"A what?" Strange asked Wong curiously. If he wasn't a literal sorcerer he would have called bull as soon as the word "witch" left his friend's mouth.

"A witch," Wong supplied, rather unhelpfully.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know they existed."

Wong walked over to one of the shelves in the circular seating area, dimly lit by soft, yellow bulbs under glass covers and papery lampshades. He scanned the many titles. The shelf was built into the wall and went from floor to ceiling, swirls of ivy-like carvings decorating its wood. Much like the table in the center of the room, and not entirely unlike the cushy red chairs that surrounded it. "I don't know much about them myself," Wong admitted. "The Ancient One mentioned them once or twice, but didn't explain anything about the subject. Just that witches didn't exist anymore."

"So this is a new one?"

"Or a very very old one. Witch magic stems from the same place as our own, but is focused on different things."

"Like?"

"No clue. I know alchemy is part of it, potion making, wands, where do you think all that stuff started? Probably why you couldn't track it right. Apparently they were powerful."

"If they were so powerful where'd they go? Taking an extended vacation to the mirror dimension."

"I don't think they access the mirror dimension."

Strange rolled his eyes, plopping himself in one of the chairs and bringing his fingers to his lips thoughtfully. "So where did this one come from? The vision I had, it wasn't of someone old."

"You don't know that. The Ancient One preserved her age for a long time."

"Yeah, by making a deal with Dormammu who lives in a place called the Dark Dimension. I can't deal with that shit again."

"Profanity."

"Oh, shut up. It's barely a bad word."

Wong smiled at him teasingly, Strange smiled back, although his was more sarcastic.

"If witch magic is similar to ours," Strange started, raising a brow, "then it has to be taught. It can't appear out of thin air."

"Who taught our new witch?" Wong said, continuing the train of thought.

"Who taught the first sorcerer?"

"I don't know."

Strange tapped the armrest. "Think there are any books on it?"

Coulson was sifting through files of the people they’d wanted to begin surveilling. Fury had put him in charge of it, things like this were in his ballpark anyway. A few people caught his eye.

Right now he was looking for a motive. What did that person want? It looked like they wanted to be left alone.

If anyone with that sort of power were an attention seeker they would have gone out and done something stupid already, same if they were desperate. Or course, someone could act like they were attention seekers to draw suspicion away from them (the person they were dealing with was probably smart enough for it), but it was easier to stick with simple things first and then narrow it down. So, it likely wasn’t an attention seeker.

It wasn’t someone emotional, they didn’t sound like it on the phone and were more impulsive than the norm.

And it wasn’t someone righteous or with a strong moral compass, someone who felt obliged to protect others with their gifts like some vigilantes, else they might have already done that.

They wouldn’t be part of an organization, he got contacted by the person themselves from a school phone, not a great idea nor a protocol anyone would approve.

Only a few students and teachers matched all those things and were present during the time the call took place. He stared at the picture of a girl with light bronze skin and waves of black hair, a small smile on her face. Confidence radiating from her in the school picture, awkward as they all were. One of the kids who fit their description. She was also less social, made it easier to keep secrets, she didn’t even have social media. No one could tag her.

She was smart too, one of the highest grades in the school, read often, history nerd, something Coulson related too. He slid her file over to the “be extra cautious around these people” pile and continued his research.

They’d find the person eventually, Stark or no Stark.

Chapter Text

By that night, MJ had made major improvements on regulating her body temperature. It was hard, and by the end of the session she was mentally drained from internally yelling at her hand to get warm, but it was worth it. She could now solidly dunk her hand in ice water and not feel like it was going to fall off. Book assured her resisting heat would be much harder, and she couldn't imagine purposefully going and burning her hand to learn magic, but she wouldn't worry about that now.

The next day, her hardcover companion had woken her up with the blaring sound that ricocheted around her tired skull like a rouge ping pong ball. "I'm awake," she growled from across the room. She wasn't as startled as last time, maybe she'd been expecting it. She got the impression that Book found it funny when she got annoyed like this.

The sound quieted as MJ got up. She clumsily groped at the curtains and peeked outside. It wasn't complete darkness like last time, but it was certainly early. The only part of the sun that breached the horizon were golden rays cutting through the light fog, knifes of light.

-Get ready now, we've got a lot of work to do.-

"I need more sleep."

-You can take a nap later.-

MJ grumbled some more as she brushed her teeth. Book made her keep the lights off, but it was infinity easier to maneuver this time, the Snarl was on her side. Book said that with a few months of practice it'd become like a sixth sense where she wouldn't need to force it on, but it was always on, effortlessly, like her sense of sight. She thought that might get overwhelming, but then again, she was seeing and hearing and smelling hundreds of things every day, and she wasn't overwhelmed.

When she finished, combing the knots out of her hair and washing up quickly, she pulled on some socks to fight the chilly weather and retrieved Book of the bedside table. The worn leather was soft under her fingers as she carried it down to the living room, rather carelessly tossing it on the coffee table and moving to the kitchen to pour herself some juice. She wasn't too hungry, and she suspected her appetite wouldn't be coming back as long the lingering fear of consequences to come resided in it's place. Juice would do for now.

She pulled up a seat at the dining table, looking out at the cityscape beyond the window. The buildings and clouds were lined with soft silver, birds flitting past the scene, the light trilling of the breeze against the chimney a few floors above. An almost perfect Saturday, she figured, tapping the side of the cup in her hands.

Almost. Expect for, -Are you ready?-

"I'm tired."

-Work with me, MJ. You won't learn anything unless you're committed to it.-

"I'm committed. I just don't understand why you needed me up at the crack of dawn."

-Early start, easy day.-

"No."

-Are you going to listen to me or continue blabbering?-

She breathed a sigh. "Fine. For now, I'll stop." She was going to continue the conversation later though. Probably.

-We're learning going over spells today. If we get through the basics, I'll have you try some simple ones out. Firstly, you need to understand how they work at a higher level. Every spell is some manipulation of energy or matter via the Snarl, and is often achieved through either carvings made by someone or something with a connection to it, or weaving the Snarl itself. Without this direction, the shift in space becomes more unpredictable, not uncommonly seeming like it's acting of it's own volition.-

"But it's not?"

-It's never unstable when it does, only when one tries bending it in ways it doesn't naturally go in.-

"Wait, so, how exactly would it get out of control? Wouldn't I have to consciously try to use it first?"

-In most cases, yes. But your mind and soul already have a natural affinity towards it, and it could fire up at any time.-

"Right," MJ said, a little sour. So she was special, but why? Why did the Snarl have to be connected to her? If it wasn't for that, there would be nothing special about her. It irked her, it didn't make sense, and "you are the chosen one because blah blah blah" nonsense that seemed to be the premise of the situation felt like about the most stupid, fake thing ever. That "affinity" couldn't be the only thing that dropped her in this mess. "Continue."

-When you cast a spell, you're essentially writing down instructions, telling the Snarl what to do and how. There are a few main symbols that you can learn, but after that a witch will make up their own often based off those first. This works because for this kind of magic intention is extremely important, more so than the inscription. When you weave you don't just weave in a rune, you weave in your motive. It's rather iffy, intention is classified like do you want it to be a dangerous spell. Do you want it to harm someone, or protect someone. Do you want it to make something, heal something, move something.

-The object the symbol gets weaved into is also vital to the spell's success. You want something to fly, you don't carve symbols in a rock, you draw it on paper. But the purpose of the object is also important. Weaving into pouch and a cage will both be able to hold things, but one in significantly stronger. Similarly, but not something we will be learning yet, having the correct utensil also helps. If you want your thing to fly use a quill to weave and direct the utensil's energy into the weaving itself.-

"So, what am I going to be 'weaving' with? And on, for that matter."

-Ink on jars.-

“Jars?”

-Yes. One of the easiest spells is simply bottling some of the core elements. We’ll start with air, reduce some of the magically induced hazards that are sure to come.- MJ might have been imagining it, but Book sounded kind of irate when it said that. Wonder what it meant.

It didn’t take long for her to find a couple of jars and empty soda bottles to use for her newfound “weaving” practice, as Book seemed to refer to it, and she had a couple pens in hand at the coffee table where it was in ten-ish minutes. She also brought along some cloth and water to wash off the pen so she could reuse. She picked up the plastic bottle first, not really wanting to ruin the glass jars just yet. If intention was the most important thing, both should work, right?

-You would be correct. Although, since the bottles were made to hold liquid, they’ll excel at fluid elements better.-

After that, Book instructed her to flip over to one of the first pages in it. Well, not the first first, but it was close enough to the start. The page was decorated with drawings and pictures of swirling lines, and script she couldn’t ready. It recognized this from the beginning, and seemed more than happy to translate.

-Air is the most fluid of all the basic elements, and this is it’s symbol.- The page glowed white, highlighting what looked like a tiny dust devil or twister drawn crudely on the page. It was barely three or four lines. She watched it entranced. It was beautiful, pouring shimmering beams of molten sunlight right out of the page and-NO. STOP. STOP BEING AMAZED. -It’s the second most prevalent, and will help you get a feel of how this works. Draw the symbol on the bottle. Keep it lose, it need not look exactly the same every time.-

MJ acquiesced after some narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. Self defense. That’s what she was doing this for, so she could yeet someone fifteen feet skyward with super magic powers if they decided messing with her was a swell idea. She let the pen glide across the plastic smoothly, like a contour drawing, attempting to keep the lines straight when she reached the bumpier part of the surface.

After she was done, she looked at it, cocking her head. It looked about the same, kinda wonky, not quite a smooth, but it was definitely the same symbol. Why wasn’t anything happening?

-Good, now flip the bottle and draw it again. Think about the air around you as you do it this time.-

She wanted to question why, but decided it was just best to follow along. She repeated the process, feeling the smooth rush of cool air flowing around her skin. Just a few days ago, she probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But ever since she’d learned about the Snarl, it had gotten far more obvious that everything was moving. Everywhere, endlessly like time itself. 

This time, when she’d finished the drawing, she felt the bottle ripple with energy. She didn’t know what exactly, but it almost seemed to buzz between her fingertips, something trickling from it into her and everything else that touched it.

”Woah,” she breathed. But she wasn’t any less confused. “I-is that it?”

-No. Wipe it off, do it again.-

“Why?”

-You’ll see.-

MJ threw Book an unimpressed glance, but did as it asked. There wasn't much point in arguing anyway. Book wouldn't tell her what she wanted, and it was her only way to learn magic at all. Without it, well, her plans of being a formidable witch were kaput.

She dipped the cloth in water, soaking one end and wiping off her work. The hum stopped as soon as the fabric cut the ink. “Hm,” she huffed as she continued, drying the bottle off with the other side. She should make a mental note of that. Book probably wanted her to figure that out herself.

She picked up the pen again, ready to try once more, but Book stopped her. -Ah ah,- it interrupted.

”What?”

-As you know, we’re bottling air. But you aren’t thinking about it enough. Visualize it, see the air, feel the air, track it as it flows into the bottle before it actually does. Run a simulation of it in your mind, so to speak.-

“You want me to imagine bottling air?” MJ repeated. “Ok,” she complied with a shrug. She didn’t need to close her eyes like some other people to see waves of air flowing into the bottle in real time, her gift as an artist stemmed from her ability to think in three dimensions like it was child’s play. It was the same thing that made her a decent lock pick, self taught and all. 

She tried to imagine what I'd feel like in the Snarl to see all the air, particles of dust along with it, getting sucked into it.

-Draw it now.-

She complied, tracing the symbol onto the plastic once again.

She felt the same rush when she'd finished, the thrum of energy crashing through the material and shattering the world around it like glass. But still, nothing was happening.

-Cap it.-

She twisted the lid back on, staring at the bottle with some disappointment. She'd expected something a little more...visible, material.

-It's air, MJ.-

"I know, I know."

-Air is not something you can see with your eyes.-

"I realized." Well duh you couldn't see air. "I was just hoping for something that looked cooler." Even through the web of molecules she could sense with her mind, she could barely tell the difference between the inside of the bottle and the outside. It was there, sure, but so incredibly minute.

-It was a small spell, and you didn't hold it for long. Not much got in. But now that I know you can do it successfully, let's move onto water.-

"Mr. Stark? Are you ok?"

Peter saw him leaned on the couch with a glass in his hands, probably of some alcoholic beverage he kept hidden from Pepper. Tony turned his head fast, like he'd just noticed Peter standing in the doorway. He got up hastily, setting the cup down somewhere behind a stack of papers on the table in front of him. Definitely intentional.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Peter breathed in, reciting what Perception had told him too before he'd entered the building. "You're off the case." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. "They told you to stop looking, and they probably took measures to make sure you won't. You're trying to find a way around them."

Tony narrowed his eyes, standing up slowly. "How did you know that?" He said, pointing an accusatory finger at his intern. It was a casual, almost playful gesture, but there were undertones of suspicion laced into it.

The stare made the teen back away a few steps. He was well aware his mentor wouldn't harm a hair on his head, but he was also certain that once his next words left his lips things would get far more complicated. "T-the voice in my head. The second Loki. It told me." Another thing Perception had told him to say.

Peter made it clear he wasn't lying to Stark anymore, he was done with that. He didn't want it to get the upper hand. It was offering him an out, a way to get a - powerful - adult on his side and making the hard calls. The best way to ensure all of their safety was to make sure the truth was being told. Perception said that it wouldn't be a problem, that he wasn't going to be lying. Technically, that is what it told him. After sensing his hesitation Perception noted that it would be easier if it took the blame, not MJ. And if he still didn't agree, it could back out of the plan entirely and the trio could try to forge an alliance with Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. themselves.

That was the final straw. He had no choice but to agree. As horrible as it was, he knew that compared to Perception the three of them had no clue what they were doing. They barely knew anything, including why it was friends with MJ in the first place.

The conversation also felt like a rather painful reminder that it knew how to manipulate people without ever uttering a lie, and that it held all the cards. It didn't need any resources or superpowers because it was terrifyingly good at emotional blackmail, hacking into people with words instead of mind control, pulling the strings from a seat it was building walls around. MJ, Ned, Peter, who knows how many others, and now it was trying to get a billionaire philanthropist on it's side too. No, wait, it wasn't trying, was it? It was positive that it's plan would work, there was no trying, there was just doing.

His mentor breathing a tense "What?" snapped Peter from his thoughts.

"The second Loki told me," he repeated. Then he launched into an explanation of the events that had occurred the previous day, leaving out the part before about him purposefully going along with it last week to impress Stark. Tony's eyes squinted further with every word, anger and confusing burning inside them like a cold fire. At the end, Peter added, "It wants to talk to you."

"You're saying your girlfriend has a book, and that book has telepathic abilities? Who does this guy think he is, Chidres? Rounding up kids do do his work for him. Are you messing with me?"

Peter shook his head no, resisting the urge to correct Tony on that fact the MJ was definitely not his girlfriend. Even if he did like her, she couldn't possibly be interested in him. "Will you let it talk to you."

He hesitated, but then swept away nonchalantly like nothing happened. "Absolutely not. You can tell your weird Riva clone to fuck off."

"Mr. Stark, i-it's not asking."

"Yeah? Neither am I."

"I'm serious. Look, kid. I'm not letting some maniacal moron who can mess with my thoughts into my head. It's not happening."

Peter's blabbering stopped nothing, but Perception's voice rattling through both his and his mentor's skull caused him to stop dead in his tracks. The tome was in his backpack, slung innocently across his shoulders. MJ was a little nervous about letting it go, but it insisted it would be fine. The first time it spoke was always the worst.

-Please, sir. If I wanted to speak to you earlier I would have done so.-

Chapter Text

Coulson watched the few files on his desk. Eleven students in total. They’d started surveillance this morning.

Nothing big, just tracking them through social media posts and cameras. He didn’t want to be invasive yet. Even if it was his job, he still had some dignity to leave the integrity of these students intact. It helped that he had to keep it on the down low for now, couldn’t risk their “Loki” figuring anything out.

There were several holographic screens popping up on the wall he was staring at, pictures and images of all those eleven people at his disposal. Thick files on each of them on his desk, filled with all the information he could possibly need to keep an eye on them.

It was tiring work. Thankfully many had stayed home for the weekend, and the two that had instagram were frequent updaters. He didn’t even need to put in effort with them, they did half his job for him.

He stared at the feed of a person named Michelle Jones, currently reading her texts from her mom. The same person who’d caught his eye several times over the last few days.

If he wanted a puppet, she’d be a perfect candidate. Didn’t know enough people to do anything about it, young and lacking experience, a small family that was easy to track down and threaten. It was concerning.

He’d better keep an eye on her. If she was the poor kid being victimized like they thought, she was going to need serious help.

The conversation went about as well as expected. There was a LOT of yelling, the entire tower could probably hear Tony’s furious words through the most soundproof of glass.

”So you used innocent kids to protect yourself?!” He screamed. Peter was sitting on the couch Tony was previously on, knees drawn to his chest, the book in front of him. The yelling sent twinges through his skull. The one downside to super senses.

-I promise, the protection is mutual.-

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the reason they’re in danger?”

-MJ was going to be targeted one way or another. Under my supervision, she’s much safer, I promise. And it’s worth mentioning that I’m putting my integrity in jeopardy as well by involving you and, similarly, S.H.I.E.L.D..-

Tony looked a little offended. It was a bit dramatic from Peter’s side, but that’s how Mr. Stark did things. He put on a show. He’d be the confident one, the one who knew what he was doing, and openly flaunting his abilities and intelligence, no matter how stuck up it seemed, only served to upholster that image. But by his next sentence, that wasn’t his biggest concern. “And Peter, Ned? You’re putting them in danger, how do you explain that?”

-They were necessary to get to you. Plus, this alliance we’re striving to achieve will be beneficial for them as well.-

Peter thought Tony already knew what Perception was going to say, but it opted to say it anyway. -Peter can get more full and permanent protection from the organization than what you provide if he has a few cards up his sleeve as well. Ned, being a budding programmer, a talented one too, can access new job opportunities and funding from within it. If Ned manages to get himself in, he’ll be an invaluable asset to both the others.-

“What are you doing?”

-Pardon?-

”What’s your plan? Why are you here?”

-I’m trying to protect MJ.-

“No no no, I’m not falling for this righteous bullshit! Why. Are. You. Here?!”

-I admit I’m telling you a partial truth. But it’s a truth nonetheless. I am one of the few sentient beings in the universe built for a purpose, like a living machine. Part of my objective is to protect MJ and that is what I’m trying to do. By whatever means necessary if that’s what it takes.-

Tony scrubbed his eyes. “So I shouldn’t report you to S.H.I.E.L.D. because you tell me not too? Have you met me? Actually, why don’t I just blast you to kingdom come right now?” It was an invitation to provide a reason, and by his tone it had better be a good one. Peter almost flinched.

-I’ve already ensured that they’ll be able to figure it out themselves eventually. If I wanted to do harm, I would have done it already. I could have built a network of people around me, started a cult if I wanted. It really wouldn’t have been too difficult.- There was a smile in it’s tone as it added. -And please, try and ‘blast’ me if you wish. I may not look it but I’m virtually indestructible when I choose to be.-

Tony stared at it for a solid minute before sighting. “And you haven’t started a cult because…?”

-I didn’t need too. It would have been helpful in finding who I needed, sure.- It meant MJ, Peter mused. He wasn’t sure he liked that. Needed for what? -But it would have been a risk I didn’t want to take. I haven’t been around for a long while now. I even made the mistake of getting myself detected in the first place.-

“Are you’re telling the truth because…?” Tony drawled once again.

-Unfortunately, you’ll just have to take my word on this one. And the kids’, if you want it.-

Peter felt the weight of his mentor’s gaze on him, so he responded. “I don’t like it either,” he admitted. “It keeps manipulating us, but…I guess nothing bad has actually happened to us.” He wasn’t sure if he could trust Perception. He was uneasy about it.

“Fine,” Tony groaned. He had that look on his face. “On one condition. I get to run a few tests on you before you leave. And if you do anything to those kids I will find some way to get rid of you, even if it means launching you into the sun. Capisce?”

-Yes, sir.-

When Peter brought Book back to her, MJ was bombarding it with questions. Thankfully, it gave her a literal play by play, projecting what Peter saw and heard. It wasn’t kidding about him having the best hearing, every loud word was punctuated enough to make her wince the first couple of times. She stored that information in her brain for later.

”So, he’s on our side now.”

Peter shrugged. “Yep, pretty much.”

”What kinds of tests did he run?”

-Just a few scans. I let him scrape a little ink of my pages, that was about it.-

MJ breathed a sigh, rocking back on her heals. That was good, everything was still fine. Then why was the world spinning?

“Hey,” Peter said gently. “Are you ok?”

”I think I’m just stressed out. Sorry.”

”W-what? No, you deserve to feel stressed out. I mean, you’ve got a giant organization after you and now we both talk to an inanimate object on a daily basis so…” he clicked his tongue. “Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.”

And she was learning magic because of future threats she didn’t know existed, but she forced a strained smile onto her face. “Can we call Ned? He should know what’s happening.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s a good idea, maybe not over the phone though because-“

”People could be listening,” she finished for him.

”Yeah.”

MJ hadn’t noticed how close she’d gotten to the two of them since this whole ordeal started. It’d barely been more than a week, but she’d already begun opening up. It helped a lot now that they knew pretty much everything.

”I’ll text him to meet us Delmar’s. We can talk there.”

”Delmar’s?”

”Yeah, aunt May is usually ok with me going there.”

MJ felt a blissful smile break across her face. Delmar’s it is.

It didn’t take long for them to walk there, Ned was already waiting for them, enthusiastically waving them over with a big grin on his face. 

“So, uhm, we have a billionaire on our side and-” MJ started once she’d gotten there, but Ned cut her off.

”Really?! Good job, Peter. See? There wasn’t anything to worry about.”

Actually, there was a lot to worry about. “Well-“

Ned interrupted once again. “Relax. You don’t look so great.”

What? Wait a minute, Ned was telling her to relax. Wow, she must look like a wreck. Her hand self consciously went to the bun her hair was in, making sure it was straight. “Y-your right. I should chill.”

”Of course I’m right!”

”It’s just-“

”Hey! You can tell me all about your feats of crazy awesome hero stuff later.”

”Hero stuff?” MJ said with a laugh.

”Yeah. You have super powers and a super cool sidekick!”

-I’m unsure if I should take this as a compliment or an insult,- Book joked out of nowhere.

She couldn’t help but smirk. Ned was definitely right, she needed to loosen up a little. She’d been tense and brain-dead for too long. A break would be good, healthy.

”This is great,” Ned continued. “Now I have two super…” he trailed off, stuttering. MJ felt Peter stiffen up beside her. Curious as she was to this reaction, she saved Ned from saying whatever it was he didn’t want to say. She’d figure it our herself soon enough. “Super nerdy friends! You included,” she said, giving him a friendly nudge with her elbow.

Peter coughed out a nervous chuckle. “Y-yep. We’re all nerds here.”

-Myself included.-

“Seriously?” Queried Ned.

-Oh please, what do you think I spend my free time doing?-

”What DO you spend your free time doing?” MJ asked. She hadn’t actually considered that Book had free time, much less that it spent it leisurely.

-I spend it browsing the vast collection of Star Wars memes and trivia in your heads. The amount of theories, it’s mind boggling really. It’s too bad you can’t use the skill in real life.-

“We’re teenagers, Perception,” Peter said. He was right, compared to the most of the people walking around them they were probably like babies. “What do you want us to do, start a Star Wars cult?”

It’s following silence was less than comforting, and it all but ruined the cheery mood that was being shared. 

“Perception?” Peter’s tone was suspicious for all the right reasons.

-You’re not too far off. A good chunk of the best resources in this city don’t come from the vast amount of tech, or the businesses that make it. It comes from the people.-

”No,” MJ said firmly. “I’m not manipulating more people on your behalf. I’m done with that.”

-I’m sorry, but it’s not a matter of morals as much as it is survival. Eventually it will be inevitable.-

“I said no. You can’t make me.”

-Let’s hope I won’t have too.-

What? What did that mean? Why’d it sound like a threat? She crossed her arms again, ducking behind a lock of her hair. No, no, no, the fear was coming back again. The crushing weight of terror.

”She said no,” Peter said firmly. “And I won’t do it either.”

”Me neither,” Ned added.

MJ opened her mouth to thank them, when she heard something in the distance, maybe a few blocks away. Her friends had too, so had everyone around them. It was impossible to miss. Powerful, dangerous, deadly. They all stumbled as the sky cracked with waves of sound. Everyone, all living beings, the moss in the broken sidewalk, flinched. Orange light erupted from the buildings ahead, smoke, splinters, the spray of destruction.

There’d been an explosion.

That wasn’t the worst part. The deafening boom had made everyone freak out, but the sounds of terror and agony were far scarier to listen too.

The worst part were the screams.

Chapter Text

It took a lot to make the people of New York look twice at anything, because no one really cares. You could go prancing out into the street in a Howard the Duck costume with a mariachi band parading behind you and literally no one would care.

This was a little more serious. People had either started trying to run towards it, see what was going on, or run away. MJ and her friends, they were part of the former. Even with the sirens howling in the background, the boom ringing in their ears, all of them had looked at each other and come to a unanimous decision; let’s go find out what the heck that was.

They were all steadily jogging towards the sight. MJ was ok with things blowing up, maybe that was a bad thing, but she’d watched enough movies and read enough books. Combustion reactions in chemistry were practically the same thing. But this one sent a shiver up her spine.

The thing about movies and books was the sight was usually the only sensory input, especially when it came to nonfiction. The twinge of smoke in the air and on her tongue as she breathed, that was something she’d never experienced.

But people were screaming. It wasn’t like her fear, this was at the prospect of dying. Game over. How many people had already-

Nope. She couldn’t let her mind go there, that was a dark place. 

There was a crowd when they arrived, fire vehicles had rolled up, setting up hoses and the ambulances weren’t far behind. The blaze was huge, engulfing a charred building. 

“Holy crap,” she heard Peter mutter behind her.

Holy crap indeed.

It was a blur of chaos, of bustling people. She registered that there were people inside the building, screaming. Frantically trying to crawl their way to safety, firemen scrambling to assist. Some even ran halfway into the flames to drag fellow humans out. People in the adjacent buildings were being evacuated. At some point the police had shown up, and MJ felt bodies of others as they were pushed out of the way by them. Their calm, "Please stay back"s were barely getting through MJ's head.

People were going to die, the fire was already spreading, despite the rushing roar of the water cascading down upon it. It had been too fast, too big. The chaos was tangible through the Snarl as she tired desperately to connect to it, see if anyone was still alive in there. She could help, she knew she could help. She could tell them where to look. But it was hard to focus.

-MJ...-

There were people dying.

The vaguely heard someone yell, "It's collapsing!"

Horror and dust filled the air as something came crashing to the ground.

"I need to go," Peter yelled, running off somewhere.

She could feel the buzz of phones recording. How could someone do that? Lives were at stake, someone's family was dying and they were taking pictures of it. How could that be their first instinct?

Blood, she could feel blood. Her own matching the beat of the water pumping from the hoses, the hearts of countless others. Alive. Like her. Alive, and unable to help.

-MJ!-

The fire, random but harmonious in it's own ways. It was ravenous always to consume, to spread like a disease. But the pattern to it's devastation was something that only felt right in one way, you knew it was fire, there was nothing else it could be. It was free, it didn't feel hungry, just beautiful.

But it was killing.

She wanted it to stop.

Wails of people in pain, crying in shock, sliced the air.

There it was! Someone was in the building. They were alive, they were alive, they had to be alive.

-MJ, they're barely in this world anymore.-

Heartbeat, she could feel one. Two. Muffled and meek between the solid thrum of the world around.

-Please don't do anything stupid.-

"I can help them," she all but whispered.

Her head shot up, searching her surroundings for something suitable.

-You are going to get yourself killed!-

Ned had hand on her shoulder, trying to drag her back. She hadn't realized her own feet were trying to move towards the destruction. She shrugged Ned off, along with her coat, which she tied around her mouth and nose to keep the smoke at bay. "MJ, no!"

But she'd couldn't hear it. She rushed forward, grabbing a metal thermos out of some tourist's backpack. She ignored the sounds of protest that came from him, shoving her way past the crowd, eyes on the ground. She acquired a sharp piece of concrete, one that had been blown off the building and crouched down, hiding herself in the bustle, behind a sea of feet.

She began carving. She hadn't carved this before. The symbol for fire. A mess of swirls and dots that looked like little like a campfire, and she poured her heart and soul into that carving.

The smell of smoke, the heat from the inferno on her bare arms, the sting in her eyes and throat from the dust, her own desperation marking out lines in the protective layer around the bottle. This would trap the fire. It would end the hurt. It might save a life. She had to do it. Her imagination twirled, more vivid than before, watching, hearing, smelling, feeling the flame get sucked into her hands.

This was her choice.

-This is a thoughtless idea.-

She had to try.

-You're going to paint a target on your own back!-

She was going to try.

-Your life is more important.-

Maybe, but she was the only one who could stop this quick enough. What was the point of dormant power?

Time to unleash it.

Peter streaked across the horizon, past the buildings running the opposite direction, his red mask on his face. Once he saw the fire fighters efforts failing he knew it was time to step in. It was his duty, his job, and even if some people called him a freak and hated him for it he'd do it.

-Peter!-

At first he thought it was Karen, but he realized quickly it was Perception. It sounded...determined. But also panicked. He hadn't heard that emotion before.

"What's wrong?" He replied immediately, shooting another web at the next building, turning sharpy at the corner. He was nearly there.

-MJ's trying to help.-

"What?! How?"

-Magic. No time to explain. If you're there she won't feel obligated to help. If she does, she'll be putting herself in serious danger.-

"And she's not already?!"

-She knows she's skilled enough to handle it. She'll live. Now MOVE.-

The teen channeled extra energy into his legs, leaping harder, faster. He had no idea what Perception was talking about, the danger, but whatever it was he couldn't let it happen.

He pounded across roofs, every slap of his feet against concrete propelling him faster. It'd take maybe a minute more to get there.

-Hurry.-

"Trying," he panted out, swinging farther. The snap of the web, that moment of free fall, the part where he'd catch himself and he'd feel his own breath get knocked from his lungs. That was the best part, but it felt surreal in moments like these. When the people he knew were in jeopardy.

Thirty seconds. He could see the calculations Karen was throwing on the screen in front of his eyes. Approximately thirty seconds till arrival. Twenty five. Twenty.

C'mon.

Ten.

Just a little harder. A little more.

Five.

-You're too late.-

Excuse it? Too late, what does that mean? What happened?

The sight to see from the rooftop Peter had madly flung himself onto was incredible. A small figure amidst the waves of heat and debris, fabric wrapped around her face and flapping around ecstatically, a glowing ball of light in her hands. No, that wasn't light. It was fire, being pulled from the source right where MJ's hands were. It was awesome by definition.

His super amped up eyes were hurting from a distance, how bad must it be for her? Everyone was standing back and watching, taking videos. Shit. She'd be on the internet now.

From the corner of his eye he saw more ambulances arriving. Hold up. He took a second take. Those weren't regular ambulances. They were sleek and glossy, black with a familiar eagle painted onto each door. Double shit.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was here. He had to stop them.

Peter made to jump off the roof, but as he took a step forward he felt lightning zip through his muscles. They stopped working, his limbs refused to work and he let out a strangled cry as he fell to the ground, twitching. "What the hell..." he managed when it ceased. Everything hurt, from his arms to his eyelids.

-I'm sorry, it was necessary to stop you. You can't go to her.-

"What?" He asked, picking himself up gingerly, trying to tune out the way his limbs protested at the motion. Perception could do THAT?! "Why not?"

-If you're involved, you become a suspect. They were going to catch her eventually. I admit, I hoped the situation would have been...more controlled, but that can't be helped now. I can't have the both of you in their custody. Ned doesn't have the means to avoid them if they decide to bring in related people for questioning. You do, and it's vital for her freedom you remain relatively footloose.-

Peter sat there, hunched up, wondering what to do.

-I can keep her safe. But you must listen to me.-

The fire gone, MJ collapsed, falling to the ground and going still. She wasn't dead, she wasn't dead, Perception would tell her if she was, she couldn't be dead. There was a thermos next to her, the plastic rim melted but the lid firmly on. That's where the fire went.

Armed guards were exiting the vans now, along with people in scrubs. One guy in a suit stepped out, barking orders and knelt beside Peter's motionless friend, checking her pulse. He resisted the urge to leap of the edge, run to her. Perception made a decent point. How did it keep making decent points?

Instead, he crept closer, sneaking along the sides of the building until he could hear the conversation.

"She's alive, burned her hands pretty bad," the man in the suit said softly to one of the nurses next to him. "What are our options?"

The nurse fiddled with her sleeves. "Protocol states we should transport her to a containment facility. I agree with that, honestly." Peter's heart lurched. "She's dangerous, whether she wants to be or not. It'll be safer to move her away from the general public. We can work out how her abilities function from there. Get agents to question her, develop inhibitors, accurately access her threat level. You know the drill."

"No," the suited man replied.

"But Agent Coulson, she-"

"She's a good kid. I've read her file."

"So have I. She doesn't seem like a victim of mind control or manipulation though and-"

"I said no, I'm overriding protocol. Run a preliminary physical on her at HQ and get her hands bandaged. I'll have a holding cell prepped for her arrival. You will not do anything else without my go ahead."

"Sir-"

"That's an order."

The nurse looked a little frazzled, but gave a curt not, starting to order someone to bring a stretcher.

Coulson looked at the bottle. "Get that too." He began scanning the surroundings, nearly catching a glimpse of Peter before the boy backed behind a corner to avoid it. He pressed his head against the brick wall. 

They were so doomed.

Chapter Text

The first though MJ had was owwww.

A headache was tearing through her vision, cutting everything into overly bright, foggy little shards. All the gods, she just had the weirdest dream.

The first time her eyes fluttered open she was sure she was in her bedroom, sunlight draped over her like a blanket. But when she blinked to clear the dust she realized she wasn't in her room. H-had none of that been a dream? She had just done fire magic, having barely mastered water, out of pure desperation and fear. More importantly, if she wasn't home, where was she.

She tried to sit up, nausea spilling over her, bubbling through her stomach. Ok, never mind. She slumped onto her back again. No getting up. It took a few tries to open her eyes enough to take a look around. It was blurry garbage, but she made out she was in a light grey room of some kind. The floor was a darker color than the walls and the ceiling, and one of the walls wasn't a wall. It was a silvery looking pane of glass. She was laying near the wall across from it, on the only piece of furnishing, a pristine white cot. It was firm, felt like the regular kind. Must be new or remarkably unused.

She tested moving her head instead of just her eyes, finding that it wasn't as bad. There wasn't much else new she could see, but she was also extremely disoriented. All she knew was that she was nowhere she knew. She was in a tiny room with one way glass. Someone was on the other side. She stared at that pane as she slowly regained awareness, hoping she had locked eyes with someone. She could probably do that,  just find out where the people were and how many through the Snarl, but she wasn't all there yet.

The more the haze vanished the more she noticed. Mainly about herself. She was shaking, likely in shock. She was scared, but this was shock. Her coat was gone, along with the various things that were stashed in it's pockets. Nothing useful, she mused. Not here. A sharpener might have been useful if these were street thugs or something, she could try to take out the blade and cut the ropes- ah, no. Stop daydreaming. Focus.

What else? There was a bracelet fastened around her wrist. She held up her hand to get a better look at it. It was small and light, made from some kind of metal. It was whole and almost seamless save for a little line where the two ends must fasten. There was a little blue light in it, blinking like a distant star. Both her stinging palms were also covered in soft, cold gauze. She must have burned them when she bottled the flames.

There was only one place she could be. One place that made perfect sense. S.H.I.E.L.D..

-You're scared.-

Book. She didn't dare say anything out loud. She refused to be scared.

-Don't deny it. You're trembling. It's ok, you're safe.-

Ok, fine. She was terrified. The one entity they were trying to avoid had her in a cage.

-I'm going to leave you to talk it out on your own.-

WHAT. She shot up, nearly toppling over with dizziness. No no no, she couldn't be left alone right now. She needed help.

-Calm down.-

Calm down? Was it kidding? Please let this all be some big joke.

-Listen. S.H.I.E.L.D. won't hurt you. I know the agent in charge of you, he's mentioned several times in the information we took. He's experienced and well meaning, and he's not going to let you get hurt yet.-

Yet? That wasn't comforting. Why was it leaving anyway? It could stay, she knew it could. It was doing this by choice. She felt newfound anger jolt through her bones, enough to make her flinch. What was this? Another one of Book's stupid, twisted lessons. That's what it was. She felt the need to hurl something into orbit.

-You're correct. This is practice. Important practice with an enemy we can afford to make mistakes with.-

She wanted to hurl Book into orbit.

-I know I may seem a little cruel right now, but I really do want the best for you.-

She hated it. She hated it a lot, but she didn't want it to leave. Not now. Not when she was in the lion's den with people who would do who knows what with her. It was still, as much as she would hate to admit it aloud, helpful, don't leave, please don't go away. She didn't want to be all alone in this cell.

-I'm not gone, MJ. I'll have an ear out, if things go South I'll interrupt. But I want to know you can do this on your own. Next time, I may not be able to help.-

Next time?

-You can do this, you're sharp enough. Just remember, we want them to be our friends.-

This was stressful.

-I'll be helping Peter get Stark on the case as well. I'm going to stop talking now, ok?-

No, not ok. She wanted it to come back. She lowered herself back on the cot, trying to steady her breathing, head facing the wall. She didn't hear anything from it, and after what felt like a few minutes she gave up. She knew it was still there, there were rushes of tranquility rippling through her mind. At least it was reminding her it was around to help if she needed it using something other than words.

It wasn't long before she heard a hiss, then the sound of a door opening. There was a door? She hadn't even seen it. She didn't look up, didn't freeze up either, just screwed her eyelids shut and kept her thoughts on her breath. In...out...in...out...

in...

out...

in...

out...

"Hey." The voice speaking to her was gentle, causal. The same voice she spoke to on the phone on Friday, Book forgot to mention that very important detail. He seemed friendly. This was probably who Book said was in charge of her. It would make sense if he were the first one to talk to her, it would help establish a trusting relationship. Good for getting people to cooperate, she thought grumpily. She may plan to be allies but she wasn't planning to be too compliant.

"Hey," she mumbled back. Her voice was much more weak, tired, croaky. Like sandpaper or the scraping of stone. She cleared her throat automatically, but making no move to repeat her words.

"Sorry we brought you in like this," the man said. He sounded almost sheepish. "How are you feeling?"

"Anxious," she replied truthfully, bluntly. Her voice was shaking a little.

"That's understandable." When she didn't reply or turn to face him it sounded like he sat down on the ground a few feet away from her. Wonderful. "We had some of our people examine you. Your hands weren't looking great. Do they hurt?"

"A little." If this man cared for her well being like Book implied she could use that in her favor. Maybe to gain some information, like what the heck they were going to do to her. She then promptly realized that was exactly the kind of thing it would do, and wondered if the little menace was rubbing off on her. She supposed it wasn't entirely a bad thing, but her luring people to do exactly what she wanted using carefully placed breadcrumbs seemed like a version of herself she didn't want to meet.

"Your name is Michelle Jones, right? You go by MJ? Can you tell me a little about yourself?"

"What's there to tell? As soon as you suspected me you would have made sure you knew everything about me. Your question's existence is just to make me feel comfortable."

"Yeah, guess I failed, huh?" He admitted with a chuckle. Majorly. Huge failure in that department. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson, by the way, but you already know that. You can just call me Agent Coulson or Coulson if you want. Do you know why you're here?"

"We both know, it's not like I'm in denial or anything." MJ peeked over her shoulder, a bit surprised he hadn't brought up that she hadn't looked at him yet. He was older than she'd expected, greying hair and a receding hairline. So he was experienced, most likely. He was sitting cross legged on the ground and had a kind, concerned smile on his face, crinkling at his eyes. It didn't make her feel any better.

"You made quite the threat a few days ago. And you've got a good bunch of our scientists stumped with how you managed to contain fire in a thermos."

"I'd be confused too."

"Can you tell me how you figured all that out? Did you have any help?"

"I did have help, actually."

Agent Coulson breathed a sigh. "Look, kid. This is a safe place. If someone is making you do something, you can tell us. This is one of the most secure places on earth, they can't get to you."

Oh, now she got it. They thought Book was making her do these things. Although that was partially true, she's the one who bought it, she agreed to do all this in the first place, she trusted Book and didn't tell anyone about it's existence. This was her choice. "A: You're one hundred percent wrong. And B: I'm not being controlled. Not completely anyway. I agreed to all this because I wanted too, of my own free will. The being responsible for it was trying to keep me safe, and I...I guess I believe that." She didn't, well, maybe she did. But barely. Where was it now? Staying silent in the back of her mind while she was grappling to function normally. "Are they safe? The people who were in the building?"

The agent, small smile still on his face, studied the sliver of MJ's he could see. After a moment of silence he responded, "Yeah, they're safe. There was a gas leak in the building. The tenant is already getting sued."

She hesitated, swallowing before gingerly sitting up once again, turning to face Coulson. She rubbed her hands on her legs and said, "And...what's going to happen to m-me." She was doing so good, but her composure finally cracked, her voice hitching on the last word.

He looked sympathetic. "You'll have to stay here for a couple days." Days? No, nope. That wasn't possible. "There are a lot of things to clear up. A few I need to address now. The information you used to blackmail us, how were you planning to distribute it?" She held his gaze, one that was mildly warning her not to lie. Maybe she shouldn't lie.

"I wasn't. The whole point was that you wouldn't take the risk of such a huge leak, so calling my bluff would be out of the question." She didn't mention that it wasn't her plan in the first place.

"How did you acquire it?"

"I used a network of magic-y universe webbing," she deadpanned, knowing how insane it sounded. She made her voice go sarcastic, making a hand motion as best she could to elaborate on her point. Coulson looked vaguely amused and continued. She hoped that threw them off a little, even if it was the complete truth.

"This being who helped you. Can we get a name, gender, general appearance or a description?"

That felt like a slap to the face. She could out Book right now, here was her chance. She was with a bunch of people who dealt with this kind of stuff, they'd find some way to help her. But...she was also one of those things S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with, and at the moment the most powerful two things she had on her side were Stark and that stupid book. She wasn't going to destroy half her, and her most reliable, ally now. That was stupid, but she didn't want to say anything about it. "No," she replied finally. "You can't."

"May I ask why?"

"It's not my secret to tell." Yes it was. "You'll find out eventually," she added with a shrug.

"I can't take that as an answer."

"Too bad." She had to summon so much courage to say those two words, but she'd made a decision. Her lips were sealed about this one.

He asked her other questions too. Some were ice-breakers. What's your favorite color? Favorite pizza topping? Favorite movie? What would you wear to your friend's party? What was her opinion on cereal and milk? The classic if she were stranded on a deserted island what is one thing she'd want with her?

But in the middle, he'd hit her with something hard and fast that made her thoughts come screeching to a halt as she struggled to come up with a feasible answer. That was likely the point of all those irrelevant questions, wasn't it?

"Can you state your abilities?"

MJ shook her head. "N-no. I have no idea what I can do." A daunting thought, she tried not to dwell on it. That was a great mystery for a time where she wasn't stuck in a place like this.

This back and forth went on for what felt like hours.

Finally, Coulson stood up, straightening his tie. MJ cringed backwards, hands grappling the mattress in a death grip out of fiery instinct. She hadn't told herself to do it, her mind had conjured the image of jumping up attacking Coulson with the thing if he got any closer before she could stop it. So this is why having a poker face too so much practice, it seemed so much easier in media.

"Alright, that'll be it for now. Do you need anything?"

She thought for a moment before replying with a shivering tone, "Some wa-water, puh-uh-please."

"That was her?"

"Yes!" Peter said incredulously to his mentor.

Some images of MJ commanding fire to spiral to her fingertips were open on Tony's phone. "Jesus, you've got some girlfriend."

"She's not my-" He let out a frustrated groan. "We need to help her!"

"Slow your roll, web-head, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been trying their best to keep her off the internet."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Oh yeahhh, it's great. It only means they'll be burying every other lead in existence."

"But-"

"I'll see if Jarvis can track her down, but we can't rush in guns blazing. Oh, and you're not coming." The note of finality that rang through Tony's voice wasn't going to work this time.

"What? No, s-she's my friend! I have to come!"

-I agree with Mr. Stark on this.-

Peter gaped at the voice in his head. "You can't be serious."

-I'd rather not see you get yourself caught or hurt. S.H.I.E.L.D. can destroy your life.-

"Like how you destroyed MJ's by leading them to her?"

-MJ is different, Peter. Besides, they're likely to come after you AND Ned soon, considering you were with her during the blast.-

Bitter realization dawned in Peter's eyes. "You want me to make sure they don't find us."

-Yes.-

"Then let me bring him here! He'll be safe!"

Tony sighed. "Sure kid, but you aren't coming."

"Why not!"

"It's risky, and I don't want them finding out your identity. You know how much I had to argue with Fury to not run a background check on you?"

"But-"

"I'm not asking."

"She's my friend!"

"And I'm still technically your boss," Tony said, whirling on Peter and making him step backwards. "So this right here, this arguing with me, zip it."

Peter felt that the conversation was over, and that talking wasn't going to do much. He gave a furious snort and stomped out of the room. He was going to figure out how to do this himself, if Mr. Stark wouldn't let him. It was his responsibility. Who was he if he couldn't even keep his friends safe?

-You aren't going.-

"Don't try and stop me."

-That's enough, Peter.-

"No. No. Stop it, stop pretending to care about our safety. You don't. You keep putting us in precarious situations, MJ is stuck who knows where, and you're not even letting me do anything about it. None of you are."

-Is that not an indication that there is a valid reason to keep you out of it?-

"No."

-If you do anything stupid, I will inform Stark and he'll be hunting you down within seconds. Unless you can figure out how to hack ethereal telepathy, I suggest you do what we say.-

"This is manipulation! You're not giving me a choice, this is wrong." He tried to fish out the right words. "You can't do this."

-Watch me.-

Strange rubbed his head, replaying the clip of the YouTube video he'd manged to scavenge. They were appearing and disappearing at hilariously speedy rates. One popped up, stayed for about an hour, and then that and dozens of other re-posts were taken down. But the magic in the grainy videos was unmistakable, and a teenager was doing it no less.

That complicated things. What was worse was that he could barely track this girl, Wong hadn't been able to get a significant amount of information on witch magic yet, and if someone was taking down the videos and Instagram posts it meant they were looking for her. Maybe they'd already caught her. He wasn't sure. But he couldn't let some government bozos get to her, they had no clue what they were dealing with, and that made them extra dangerous.

He opened a portal to Wong's abode, sling ring cold against his fingers. He stepped through the sizzling golden ring with an air of power and finality.

The time for waiting and watching and wondering was over. He was finding out where this girl was one way or another, and he was going to need some help if he wanted to be discreet.

Fury stared at the footage of the conversations Coulson had with Michelle Jones-Watson, the newest gifted kid. There were several chats had after that first one, and MJ, as she preferred to go by, had done a fair job trying to run circles around them for a sixteen-year-old. It might have been a ruse, but it seemed real enough. Either she was a talented actress, or not the villainous figure they thought they had caught. The one helping her though...to be determined. "Report," Fury nearly spat to the agent in front of him.

Coulson, still unfazed but now given the command to speak did as requested. "She's good, for someone with no training. Or, maybe no training. Still haven't figured that out yet. She's incredibly attentive. She figured out we weren't planning to inform her parents about any of this yet, she even correctly guessed our future plans to keep her mother on an extended business trip should this go longer than expected. She's admitted that her powers include pyrokinesis, but other than that our knowledge is limited. She is meditating in her free time though. We're picking up strange readings, and our scientists are looking into it."

Fury leaned back in his chair, giving the table a small tap. "You know we're going to have to get more real about this if she doesn't start giving us answers."

"I know."

"She's dangerous, whether she intended it or not." He glanced at the files strewn across his desk again. "These strange readings, it says there's a way to dampen them."

"Yes. We can counteract the waves with certain molecular structures, I think. Never been too great with understanding that stuff."

"Let's start with that then."

"One more thing. One of the people she was with before the blast was Tony Stark's personal intern."

The Director looked like he'd sooner toss the table out the window then hear that again. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "That Parker kid. Well, shit. Now he's gonna be looking, isn't he?"

Coulson nodded, feigning slight somberness. "Afraid so."

After a moment's thought Fury said, "Sedate her and transfer her to a new location. Keep it off books, we can't let anyone without clearance interfere until we determine how large of a threat this situation poses. And while you're on that, make sure she's in a unit that suppresses those readings. We need to conduct further research and find a way to get her to cooperate, preferably without being forceful in our methods, to learn more. She's going to be going through enough already."

"Sir, if I may," began Coulson, all humor in his voice snapping away, "she's not going to respond well to being drugged. I'll walk her through the process and escort her there myself."

"You volunteering to be her handler?"

"I think it would be best if it were someone she'd already met, so yeah. I'm volunteering."

Fury gave a slow nod. "Alright. But she'll be in a containment unit during transport. That's an order. I want her on a plane by noon tomorrow."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now get moving."

Chapter Text

The next day came at the speed of a goddamn tectonic plate, barely chugging forward. Coulson had visited her several times, to ask her more questions, bring her cafeteria food and water, and escort her to the bathroom. Whenever he came by she bombarded him with questions about the legality of the situation and the fact that she wanted a lawyer and that they had no warrant and that this felt like kidnapping. He told her that S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't operate in the legal system like that. Since they dealt with unusual situations, basically no US laws applied. After that she took to complaining about having nothing to do. He eventually found a safety manual for her to read and some stationary to draw with to keep her busy, but she all but used those up as night arrived.

After the initial terror had passed, there was a strange mix of anger (mostly at Book who hadn't said a word since their last conversation) and agonizing boredom. She spent most of the morning after mulling about, sleeping like a lethargic cat, shading in her doodles from yesterday. She recited the alphabet forwards and back, counted to 100, 500, 1000, paced the room and did some stretching, she stared at the mirrored wall and used the Snarl to make sure she didn't accidentally lock eyes with anyone. She also tried to use it to figure out where she was, find her way home, which took up way more of her strength than trying to find a designated target. The only thing she dug up was that she was in a city somewhere. She felt cold so she practiced regulating her temperature again. She thought about the gas leak, staring at her burned fingertips. She should have used her ability then.

About halfway through her second day, Coulson walked in for the third time since he delivered her breakfast. He had in his hands a roll of bandages and antiseptic wipes, a tiny smile on his face as always. She found he enjoyed humor, even sarcasm, which being completely truthful she hadn't anticipated at all. It took all her conviction to make sure she didn't visibly light up as he walked in. She was so spiritless at the moment literally any entertainment was welcome, even just conversation, which in most other cases she hated.

"Do you need some help with these?" Coulson asked, lifting the bandages. MJ glanced at her hands, pressing at them. They didn't hurt, she couldn't really feel much with them, but she could do this herself. She shook her head no and Coulson set the supplies down next to her as she started unwinding them, taking notice of how they wrapped around her palm so she could replicate it.

"I have some news."

The first thing she noticed was that the agent didn't specify what kind, and that instantly made her wary. "Good or bad?"

"It really depends on how you take it. Good part is, you won't be stuck in here anymore." MJ raised an expectant brow at him, he obliged by continuing. "You're being transferred to a new location."

"Why?" Was her first thought. That meant they were going somewhere different, maybe more remote, farther away from where her friends could reach her. Panic began to cloud her mind and she gave herself an internal shake. Focus, dimwit she told herself. Her internal voice had been present before, but it hadn't been nearly as audible before Book. Now that it was gone here thoughts were screeching like a hungry, newly-hatched bird. She pulled out a wipe and brushed it along her dead skin.

"We want to take you somewhere where we can better asses your gifts."

Gifts they called them. It wasn't a gift, no matter how cool it seemed on paper. It was like being served food as someone's guest and being forced to eat it out of politeness, even if it tasted like evil incarnate. But that really wasn't the point, they wanted to study her. But for what reason? She had a few guesses. "Are you going to try and weaponize my power or just find a way to make it stop working?" She started with the bandages, clumsily enfolding her hands with the material.

"We want to protect you," he replied. He means protect others FROM you. She felt like he was hiding something from her. It was a theme with authority figures lately. Her mom always told her everything, no matter how brutal it was. Sugarcoating it didn't do any good in her opinion, and she agreed wholeheartedly. Coulson seemed to sense her doubt. "I'm not lying," he said.

"Nope," she replied. But she knew something else who told no lies and managed to get her to do everything it said so far. "You're keeping something though."

"That's my job, kiddo."

"Don't call me that, it's condescending. You're not here just to tell me that."

"We're leaving now," he revealed as MJ struggled with tying off the bandages. "Need some help."

Then teenager nodded glumly like it hurt to accept help from Coulson. He bent down next to her and knotted off the thin, cold gauze with an amused twinkle in his eyes. She watched him with what she hoped was a blank stare, but her discontent was likely showing.

They left the cell afterwards, which she was infinity glad to do. So far, the bathroom breaks were the most exciting part of being trapped here. Coulson led her down quite a few winding, unmarked hallways. She kept getting odd looks, definitely the she's-just-a-kid look. And for once, MJ agreed. She was just a kid, and she shouldn't have to be dealing with any of this. She wanted to go back home and stress over the next history test again, not over her literal freedom because she could do magic now. Every time they passed a door that needed a higher clearance to pass through another rock dropped into her stomach. Where were they going that needed this security? Why not just go into a car or a plane and leave? Why were they going further into the building?

The next door they entered had a scene that made her freeze, her feet refusing to go another step. It was another cell, disconnected from the rest of the huge room and surrounded by bee colored tape. It looked a lot homier than her last one, it had an actual bed, a chair with tables and fake flowers, a screen that showed a view of mountains, a lamp she could choose to turn off, but it gave her jitters. The at least fifteen people in lab coats standing in various places in the room staring at screens and detaching this from her fun new box wasn't helping. Sure, they were going to study her, but what in the world was this?! It was unnecessary, overkill. MJ fiddled with the metal bracelet around her wrist while her eyes were busy darting around like that of a mouse in affright.

"MJ?" Coulson asked, and she was almost ashamed that she flinched at his voice. "Are you ok?"

"What are you not telling me?" She demanded. Something was wrong. She knew it.

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, steering her forwards haltingly. She'd rather be moving, no, speeding in the opposite direction right now. "Easy. We have orders to keep you in one of these while we move you. I tried to keep it comfortable."

Her gaze flicked between the several monitors. Through the corner of her eye she swore she briefly saw her own rapid heart rate silently flashing through the screen of a tablet. It's the bracelet. Of course it was the bracelet. She took a few calming breaths. Breath, this unease wasn't productive nor rational. She was fine, she was fine, she was totally completely fine. Nothing bad was happening, it was just they thought she was dangerous.

What did Book say? Allies? How was she supposed to make friends with someone who didn't trust her enough to simply sit in a vehicle without doing something sinister for one trip? She had to play her cards right, only tell them selective things at the right times. Problem was, she had no idea how to do that properly. And if they made an entirely new cage for her just, what awaited her at their destination? "I not going to spontaneously combust," she said. "This isn't needed."

Coulson gave her a sympathetic look. Don't pity me if you're not going to do anything about it. "It's going to be fine, MJ. I know this is scary-"

"It's unreasonable."

"We have orders, kid. Don't worry, I've asked for some novels delivered to you when we get there, and you'll have more freedom."

Lies her mind sang, but she shuffled into the cell anyway, feeling eyes on her. She saw some screens flare to life, charts and waves she couldn't read whirring across their surfaces. She looked back at where Coulson was, standing in the middle of the bustling scientists with a reassuring smile. She wanted to smack it off his face.

He sighed at her anger. "See you in a few hours."

Then the doors began to close.

Strange was flipping through the various destinations on his phone, near where he'd found the strongest energy surge. He'd been tracking the girl, or so he thought. He soon figured out that he was tracking two things. One thing kept moving, the magic weak and hard to pin down. The other was bigger, he could actually sense it if he tried hard enough, and it was stationary. Stuck in a remote forest somewhere in Canada's fall orange trees. Pinpointing it's location had been hard, but significantly easier. It may not be the girl, but it was worth taking a look at.

Once he'd found a picture close enough to the spot, he slipped on his sling ring and drew out a portal to it, stepping through and shivering against the freezing air blasting through the area. Yep, Canada.

The portal closed behind him and he concentrated, finding a thin line of power leading deep into the forest. Following that was even more of a pain. Sure, he was a sorcerer, but he couldn't blast through the thick canopy flying with his cape and expect to be inconspicuous. Not when he was hearing voices talking about science things outside his profession as a surgeon.

A quarter mile and a concealment spell later he could see a symbol he'd known of for a while, but never did he think he'd be tangled in the same web as them. They had a massive device set up in a clearing, circular, bold, in short it was hard to miss. Metal shards that curled upwards and twisted together at the top, making a sort of ring shape. Strange carvings crisscrossing over the metal, wires coming out from absurd angles at seemingly random locations, some connecting to nothing. To him, it looked like a pile of junk, garbage. But it was clearly on. Small lights flickered around the edges, and it was humming. Buzzing like a big phone, or a big bomb.

They weren't S.H.I.E.L.D., he almost wished they were. The tentacled skull of an insignia was unmistakable. Hydra.

Perfect.

Chapter Text

-Stark.-

The voice nearly made Tony jump out of his shoes before he realized who - or rather what - it was. "Perception," he greeted, continuing to fiddle with the glove on his arm. Working on his suit, it helped him think. Think about how to help get Pete's girlfriend back. He'd gotten mad at Tony that morning, yelling about how he didn't care, that he wasn't trying. He knew he seemed a little apathetic at times, but he cared. He cared a lot. He'd seen MJ before, she was good, and the way Peter talked about her. She clearly meant the world to him. Tony couldn't bare the thought of someone so young being stuck at S.H.I.E.L.D., she would be scared.

He'd hit a dead end later that same morning. He was digging through their research on her, the data they collected. Apparently Coulson was in charge, which admittedly he was a bit relieved to hear. As annoying as the man could be, he wouldn't let her be subject to any from of exploitation easily. Tony figured his main goal would just be to make sure she was in control of her own abilities, and make sure he knew how to stop them in case of an emergency where they got out of hand. He was making good progress, Friday was helping, but suddenly the flow of information just stopped. Any bits he found after that using extensive keyword searching were few and far between, so scattered they barely made sense.

-You're worried.-

"Get out of my head," he spat at it, nudging gently at a loose node near the repulsor jet in his armored hand.

-You've been rubbing off on Peter.-

"Why are you talking to me?"

-You need to eat something, you haven't touched food since that toast at three a.m..-

"You sound like Friday. Or Pepper."

-It'll help clear your head.-

"What are you really talking to me for?" He asked the voice. Suspicion buzzed in his mind. Perception wasn't stupid, and it didn't talk to him without reason. Why would it suddenly start caring for his well being?

-I must admit, it's refreshing to be around someone this hubristic, and yet, surprisingly solicitous. And you're right, I do have a reason for being here.-

"Out with it, I don't have all day."

-I need you to continue your work on the device you were building to track me.-

“Why?” He responded without missing a beat.

-I’ll reveal that later. For now you need to trust me.-

”Excuse me?” Tony said, head perking up, hand freezing. It did NOT just try and do that again. “Absolutely not. If you’re going to start keeping things from me I’m going to kiss this alliance goodbye and you can find MJ yourself.”

The laugh that followed was amused, but at the same time bone chilling. Dangerous. Like thundering storm clouds battering a sea-wrecked shore. -Stark, don’t play games with me. I can read your mind, if I chose to I could find out every single secret you wanted to keep buried and put them all out in the open for the world to see. Every insecurity.-

"And who's going to help you do that? A random stranger you'll threaten?" It'd already made it clear it wouldn't do that. "You might be able to play a bunch of kids, but you don't seriously think you can fool me, do you? I'm hurt."

-There's been a surge of power recently. Witchcraft. It's big.-

"Then track it down yourself."

-I'm incapable of that on my own. I'm not supposed to be powerful enough, it would drain me too fast and too much. We either need MJ or a device.-

"And which is more important? MJ? Or some tracker?"

-Both.-

"No. You need to get your priorities straight. There's a kid stuck with people who aren’t above turning innocent kid into soldiers, because they don't care what happens to one life if they can save hundreds. I do. She's our priority."

-They've already started hindering her abilities, Stark. You've already lost track of her. She has no clue where she is. We need a tracker to help her as well.-

Tony grunted, setting his tool down and staring at the table absently. Shit. He wasn't expecting Perception to admit anything to him, but it wasn't enough. "The new witchcraft. What's the source?" He asked. He thought there were only two, Perception's, which was hidden, and MJ's. A third could be troubling news, especially if the voice was worried enough about it to ask him to build something that could find it.

-I don't know.-

"Not an answer."

-Just build the device, Stark.-

"Fine. But no more lies, no more keeping things from me. Keep fooling the others if you want, I'll even help you. But you do not try and keep things from ME. Then I'll build your device for you." There was a pause a few aching seconds long.

-Deal.-

When the cell door finally opened MJ was introduced to a sterile setting, glaringly white with bright, florescent lighting. She stood on instinct, taking inventory of all her suitable weapons, soon finding the most useful thing was literally the blanket. Everything else was bolted down. She picked it up, holding it in front of her, gripping the fabric like a lifeline.

There was a woman standing near the frame of the entrance. She was short and stocky, broad-shouldered obviously built like tiny tank. Her skin was the shade of acorns, freckles dotting her face, frizzy hair tied in a low bun. Slim glasses rested on their face along with the lab coat and stethoscope that looked hastily slung over her shoulders. She was squinting at a tablet held in her hands, one akin to the others MJ had seen.

"Hey!" The woman greeted with a friendly wave and a smile. "You're...Michelle?"

"MJ," the teen corrected bluntly. She hope she didn't sound too confused. She was very confused. Where was she, what was going to happen to her?

"Ooo, pretty!" The woman exclaimed brightly. "I'm Dr. Caddel, but my friends call me Cadds. You can call me that if you like, or whatever you want." She pointed to her name tag, pinned onto the lapel of her long white coat, the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem glittering in black along with the words Susan Caddel written across it. "Susan, Caddy, really, go wild. I don't mind."

Somehow Cadds bubbly temperament was muffling MJ's constant lingering panic. She felt her shoulders relax, she wasn't aware they'd been bunched up in the first place.

"I'm going to be your physician for as long as you stay here, you ok with that?"

"Do I have a choice," MJ all but growled.

Cadds didn't take offense. "Well, I mean, yeah. You could ask Agent Coulson to find someone else, but why would you want to do that? I'm charming!" She joked.

MJ couldn't help the smile that was cracking across her face. This seemed to be the cue the doctor was waiting for because she'd walked over to the table, covered in crinkly paper, and patted it. "Why don't you have a seat and let me take your vitals?"

The teen's smile faltered as she hesitated, torn between shaking her head no and demanding to be let out of the room and following what she assumed was an order. One of those options would probably get her in trouble.

"You don't need a stool, do you?" Cadds chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "It's ok, MJ. Everything is going to be just fine. I just want to examine you, make sure there's nothing out of the ordinary, and take a blood sample for analysis. If you feel uncomfortable, we'll stop and take a break."

MJ considered this. She wasn't as scared as everyone was assuming. Yes you are. Her subconscious was taunting her, and it was right. She was scared, but mostly wary. She had it in her mind that to successfully gain any kind of useful information, she'd need to first know what S.H.I.E.L.D.'s end goal was with her. What were they planning? Perhaps acting afraid would work in her favor, but she'd been acting that way this whole time and it hadn't worked at all. She was simply receiving pity. She didn't want pity, she wanted answers. She sucked in a breath and went to sit on the table, the paper crumpling under her. She needed a better plan, and she had a bargaining chip; her cooperation.

Her thoughts spun on as Cadds took her heart rate and blood pressure. Her voice snapped MJ out of her trance. "Looks like it's a little high, but that's to be expected when you're nervous." She began pressing her cold hands gently around MJ's throat and the teen cringed away.

"Do you need a break?" Cadds asked, looking and sounding genuinely concerned. MJ briefly wondered what she'd been told, how much. S.H.I.E.L.D. compartmentalized knowledge so no one person had all of it, she needed to talk to multiple people. But more than that, how much did Cadds know about her? Did she know about the fire thing that happened yesterday?

She shook her head no to Cadds. "Just...give me a warning next time," she said, softer this time. Cadds nodded, typing out something else on her tablet before turning her attention back to MJ.

"I'm just looking for signs of irritation, illness, the usual," Cadds explained with a shrug. "It's just protocol, sorry if I scared you."

"You didn't scare me."

After that ordeal, where MJ tried to seem as comfortable as possible with someone poking and prodding at her, Cadds tested her reflexes and then produced a tray of vials for the blood draw.

"You just keep that there in case of emergency?" MJ tried to joke, but she didn't think it was all too great. Cadds did, apparently, snorting with amusement.

"Oh yeah, how else are we supposed to feed the vampires in the basement?" She retorted sarcastically. "Alright, arm."

Cadds tied a tourniquet around MJ's bicep and used a butterfly needle to get the blood from the crook of her elbow. The sight of blood made some people squeamish, but, right now, to her it felt like some kind of achievement. She was here, she was still alive, she had a brain that ran and a heart that pumped, and blood that could leak out of her body. She counted that as a win.

After a little while of watching a steady flow of crimson fill the vial MJ blurted out, "Why am I here?" The words spilled from the high-schooler's mouth before she could reel them back inside. She let it keep flowing. "I know you had doctors in the other place. You brought me here for a reason, why?" She clarified, knowing her first question must have sounded a little vague. She was still trying to pool her thoughts back together in a coherent set of words.

"Well, we just thought it might be better to study you in a place designed for it."

"Designed for it?"

"This is a research facility. It was built to conduct experiments on mutants and gifted individuals, as well as keep an eye on them. Oh, quit looking so horrified," Cadds said, looking up from the second vial she was attaching to the needle, raising an amused brow at MJ's furrowed ones. "You been watching too many old sci-fi movies or something?"

"What kind of experiments."

"Chill out, most are just testing the extent of your powers. Really, you have nothing to worry about."

"Ok. When are you going to let me go?"

MJ stared the doctor down as she dithered, shifting on her feet.

"A-are you going to let me go? Am I ever going to be able to leave this place?" She couldn't help the chilled stutter in her voice.

"I don't know. That's not up to me."

Cadds’s words had MJ's head spiraling into places she didn't want it to go. As of now, there was a possibility that they wanted to keep her contained forever, but there was also equal possibility they were planning to let her go. She had to keep an open mind, she couldn't let herself get distraught over a mere prospect. She kicked the tremors out of her lungs before she talked again. "Then who is it up too?"

Once again, Cadds hesitated, like she was unsure if she was allowed to divulge any more than what she already have. After a tick she finally said, "At this point, Director Fury."

MJ resisted the urge to holler "WHAT" at the top of her lungs and leap off the table screeching bloody murder. The freaking director was pulling the strings. Ok, ok, she could dig up some good in this.

If she got the leader of the entire organization on her side, she'd be set. No one in S.H.I.E.L.D. would be able to touch her again, and her goal of befriending the organization would be complete. On the other hand, if Fury didn't like her, if he decided she was too dangerous or unstable or some other outlandish thing she'd be stuck here forever. Or maybe somewhere worse. What was his goal? Protecting the masses, wasn't that his whole job? How could she convince him she wouldn't go try and turn into a tyrannical witch-person and take over the globe? "Can I talk to the Director?" She asked, knowing the answer before Cadds said it.

And she said it with a laugh too. It sounded a little more light, like it was on helium, as if the doctor was trying to blow away some of the tension in the air with a puff of her breath. "Hah! Sure, as long as he wants to talk to you too. Good luck with that. I've heard he's stubborn as a moose."

MJ was sure that it was sarcastic, of course it was, Cadds was simply enjoying some light banter. The way she talked about it too, even getting an audience with him sounded like a feat in of itself. But if that's what it was going to take, she'd find some way to talk to him, even if she had to cheat, lie, shove, and haggle her way over.

And she'd better have an awesome speech prepared when she got there.

Ned didn't like how anxious the air felt. It was tangible for sure, he could basically smell it like a dog could sniff out fear. Or a tasty biscuit.

Peter kept pacing, spitting what were definitely reckless plans on how to sneak out without Stark noticing. There was also the small problem of a certain old relic noticing and ratting them out. Or more specifically, ratting Peter out. Ned had given up on trying to disobey orders at this point. It'd been nearly two hours, they weren't going to be able to do anything unless Perception/Book was on their side.

-Your friend is rather adamant.-

Looks like Perception was only talking to him this time, Peter didn't say something in return, and Ned kept silent about the being speaking in his mind. If Peter knew he'd just demand another parley and then argue aimlessly about wanting to help. It wouldn't work anyway, if Perception at any point thought one of Peter's insane plans would have worked it would have agreed and let them help.

And they were insane. It had gotten to the point where the plans were involving using kitchen utensils and stationary as weapons and distractions.

And it wasn't just Perception they had to avoid, they had to make sure Friday wasn't going to tattle either. Both were a huge problem on their own, both put together they were the ultimate security force. At least one they could try and convince to be on their side, but the other was an AI with a hardcoded set on instructions to follow. Instructions set by Tony Stark, one of the smartest people on the planet.

Ned could hack into things, yes. He'd hacked into Stark tech before, but hacking a tower was in another league compared to a suit with a closed system and blockers to keep his attacks from being discovered. He sighed and drew a hand over his eyes as he watched Peter from his spot on the couch. Yeah, the young hero was persistent alright.

-He doesn't want to talk to me. Refuses to listen to a word I say.-

Made sense. The guy was furious that he felt so helpless right now.

-Perhaps you'll be capable of placating his anxiety?-

Anxiety? More like white hot rage. And no, Ned didn't think he could make any difference whatsoever.

-Alright, tell him I told you I'm planning on bringing him back into the game soon. Should lighten his mood a little.-

But was it true?

-Completely. Cross my heart.-

A saying to denote complete honesty. Question was, did a book have a heart to cross?

Strange lingered around the Hydra agents for a while, trying to make out what they were doing. It complete honesty, it was boring work. They just walked around a lot muttering incoherent things to each other and setting up caution tape. He really wanted to go and kick the circular machine and order someone to turn it on.

Maybe it was already on and he just had zero clue what it was doing. Certainly a possibility, but considering the size of the giant ring he suspected the end result would be more dramatic than some buzzing white noise.

If he wasn't trying to be cautious, he would have simply waltzed in with his concealment spell active and broke the damn thing. But he wanted to know what it was, what was Hydra doing. Sure, he could go find out what they were doing later by running around in his astral form and flipping through papers and files, following money trails, using the good ol' magic cape to strangle anyone who wouldn't tell him what he wanted, but why do all that when they would show him without any fuss whatsoever. As long as he stayed hidden, that is.

It took hours before anything actually happened. Every now and then he saw someone walk over to a lever, hush everyone up, and pull it. When nothing new happened everyone simply got back to work. The sorcerer had stopped considering this to be any bit significant after the sixth or seventh time it occurred. But then, as he was drearily watching one man pull the lever again, he heard a crack. It sounded like the splintering snap of lightning. The first fuse in a storm. And the machine whirred to life. A whirlpool of some sickening lavender was forming in the middle of the huge ring, and cheers filled the air. "HAIL HYDRA!" The men chanted, whooping and clapping each other on the backs.

Strange watched the ordeal carefully. It was a portal, undoubtedly, but unlike anything he'd seen before and brimming with the strange witch energy he'd learned to distinguish. It thrummed through the air, low vibrations that most people wouldn't even notice rippling through it. He didn't dare compare it to water, it was like ripples of light. Water faded, this wasn't fading, it felt unstoppable. The world seemed to wiggle just to make way.

WHAT was IT?

But the ecstatic bustle of the scientists as they shared their information, tapped hastily on their tablets, giddy with excitement, that faded. It got ruthlessly crushed, along with any sense of security Strange experienced when the portal shook. Out stepped a huge, reptilian beast. It was a deep hue of orange and covered in red scales made of rock, each easily the size of his palm. It had no eyes, the places they would have been covered in plates like the ones along it's sides that pulsed like veins with each breath the creature took. It had a large nose, and a gaping maw, smoke billowing out, tainting the air a sour grey.

It inhaled, sighing, it's nostrils flaring and head shaking.

"TAKE COVER!" He heard someone yell, panic drenched the air in less than a second. People scattered, running past him and sending him terrified glances as they stumbled past. The sorcerer conjured a shield, drawing light together to create a golden mandala in front of him. He had no idea why, but that was a confused man's thought. A few seconds later he knew exactly why.

The rock dinosaur opened it's jaws and spewed lava. Lava. Fire. Everywhere. Before he knew it the sky was thick with ash and the plants around him were flattened. The trees were burning, falling, dying all around him. Frantic birds ran, some too late to escape the towering flames.

Strange felt his feet burning, sweat trailing from his forehead as the world turned to ash, as wave after wave of molten rock crashed against his magical shield. He looked around, for just a few seconds, taking in the scale of the destruction.

And when he looked back he saw a boulder-sized lava monster barreling towards him.

Chapter Text

HELLO Y’ALL

I’m finally getting around to coming back to this work, and boy howdy is it some bad writing!

I don’t know what I was thinking when doing this, but I’ve realized now how my scatterbrained soul had made every single sentence sound like an academic paper. It takes a bit of rereading to understand it, and it’s not good.

So on that note, here’s what I’ll be doing.

- Plot and character revisions

- dialog revisions

- General editing to make the story more easy to read

- And I’ll probably rewrite huge chunks of the last few finished chapters because they…actually suck

In short, it will take time. But I will be posting updates on this about my progress.

So, uh, stay tuned I guess! Any feedback you have would be great and I would highly appreciate it =)

Ciao

Update: Sorry it’s taking so long, life still exists, but chapters 1-12 have been edited as of now!