"The suits?" Dad asks in a voice slightly higher than normal.

"What suits?" Papa adds. I look at them with a look that says 'Do you really think I'm that stupid?'

"You're not very good at hiding them. Dad's better than Papa, but I've known for a little while that you've had them on hand. But I don't need them. I don't want to follow in your footsteps, either of them. I don't want to be an Avenger, or a hero of any sort. I just want to be Blythe."

"We were going to wait until your eighteenth birthday," Papa says.

"We were only going to give them to you for one off things. We weren't expecting you to be a hero," Dad explains.

"Really? Cause that sure isn't what it fucking looks like. You can tell yourself that, but I know what the truth is. I'm not just Blythe Rogers. I'm not just the daughter of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, of Iron Man and Captain America. I'm my own person. You've helped me grow into who I am but you do not define me. I choose my way in the world. Not you. Me. And I'm sick of everyone telling me that I have to be like you guys. Even you two tell me to be like you, even if you don't realise it. I'm fucking sick of it."

"Blythe..." Dad starts.

"No buts. Leave me alone. I need some time to myself."

With that, I walk quickly out of the room. I walk into the elevator and press the button to the ground floor. As it starts moving, I let out a scream of frustration. I'm so overly sick of it. So many people have been gently pushing me in the direction of my parents' footsteps, and I'm always in their shadows.

I step out of the elevator and walk towards the exit. I walk straight past my motorbike: I can't even bring myself to ride it. As I exit the Tower, I begin to walk along the streets. Despite being extremely busy and filled with people - after all, this is New York - it's almost calming.

The smell, the feel, the sights...they're all suddenly so relaxing. Maybe it's because none of it reminds me of Dad or Papa. Or maybe it's just because I'm stressed and tired and it's somehow relaxing.

I get a text from my phone, and when I read it I become both annoyed and even more sick of the world.

'Hey, I'm thinking of coming and visiting.'

'Don't even, Charlie.'

'Why not?'

'I'm so not in the mood. I don't want to see you.'

'I'm kinda already in New York...'

'Did you come from L.A. just to see me?'

'Maybe?...'

'Even though you knew I wouldn't want to see you after that stunt you pulled?'

'I just want to talk to you about it.'

'Maybe another time, Charlie. Go back home.'

With that, I turn my phone off. Fully off. I just want to relax. I don't know where I'm going, but it seems that my body has a plan of where it's headed. After a while, I start to figure out where it's leading me. Mikayla might still be at school, but her family definitely isn't. And with a new baby in the house, there's no way they've gone anywhere.

I turn down the alley that takes me to her house. It's a shortcut that I've been using safely for years now, one that saves me a twenty minute walk. As I'm walking, the alley seems eerily quiet. Although I'm only a few meters from the main street entrance, I can't hear any cars or people. I shrug it off and keep going. A man steps out from the shadows and stands in front of me.

"Do what we say and you won't get hurt, pretty lady," He says, creeping me out. I'm about to say something when three other men step out from behind him.

"Oh you've got to be shitting me. Look, I'm not in the mood." I move to go past them, but the first man puts his arm out and stops me.

"This isn't a choice. Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way." I simply stare at him, not saying anything. "Hard way it is."

He swings at me, and I duck. He swings again, and I grab his hand mid-punch. I move my hand to be gripping the band of hand and a part of his wrist, then grab a hold of his forearm with my other hand. He looks at me with slight fear as I lift him in the air, then smash him down on another one of the men. The other two come at me, and I move around them with ease as I defend myself. This is nothing compared to sparring with Aunt Nat.

It's been a couple minutes and they show no signs of wanting to stop. As I kick one of them in the balls, another one takes me off-guard and lands a blow to my face. The other two take the opportunity to punch me in the face again and kick me in the stomach. The kick makes me fly backwards a little and I land on the ground, winded. I stand up while gripping my stomach, leaning against the alley wall for a little bit of support. I feel the warmth of blood trickle from my nose, and I can feel some slowly making its way down from the new cut on my cheek.

"Are you ready to give up?" One of the men asks. I don't remember which is which now. They're all seeming to blur together. I try to reply with a no, but my voice doesn't want to exit my body. I push myself off from the wall and stand up with fists up, ready to keep fighting even though I'm in pain.

I let out a small scream as something lifts me in the air, not knowing what it is. I look up to see that there is webbing attached to my back. I follow it up with my eyes to see the other end of it attached to a roof gutter. I look back down and am surprised to see Spider-Man fighting off those guys who attacked me. After about a minute, the guys run off. Maybe they figured it wasn't worth it.

Spider-Man climbs the wall and rests beside me, sticking to the brick. I glare at him, crossing my arms.

"You gonna let me down, Spider-Boy?"

"The webs dissolve in an hour," He says simply.

"Oh no you don't. Don't even fucking think about it. You got me into this mess. Get me out of it." I can almost swear that he smirks under the mask, but he does what I say by cutting the webs. I start to fall a little but he catches me before I fall too far, and then he takes me onto the roof.

I stand on the roof beside him and wipe the blood away with one of the tissues I keep in my jacket pocket. "Why'd you save me?"

"You looked like you needed help."

"I was handling myself."

"Didn't look like it."

I'm frustrated now. I'm on a roof with a random guy, I have to walk home with blood on my face and then Dad and Papa are gonna get angry at me. "Do you know who I am?" I ask as he gets ready to leave.

"Yep. But everyone needs saving every so often, Blythe. Even if they don't think so." He then jumps off and swings away.

His words resonate with me, more than anything of the sort normally would. Does he know me? Like, personally? No stranger would say something like that to someone unless they knew them. Who are you, Spider-Man?

I jump back as bird poop narrowly avoids me. I suddenly remember that I'm on top of a three-story apartment building, and begin to carefully climb down the bricks, as there don't appear to be any fire escape staircases on the side of it. I grumble incoherently while I do so and while I'm walking home, barely registering what I'm even saying to myself.

--

~No P.O.V.~

"She got away?! I thought I told you to grab her!"

"We tried, sir. But..." It was one of the men that attacked Blythe.

"But WHAT?!"

"KAI!" An old man yells. As the dim light casts upon him, he appears to be in his late 50s.

"What, Father?!" Kai shouts back at the old man.

"Calm down!" He turns to the man. "Tell me. What stopped you?"

"Well, she put up a fight. But then we started to overpower her. We would have had her, but someone saved her."

"Who was this someone?"

The man is hesitant. "...Spider-Man."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Kai shouts into the sky.

"We're sorry, Mr Warner," The man tells Kai's father.

"No matter." Mr Warner waves them off. "Dylan."

"Yes, Father?" Another man comes into the light, roughly 24. He looks like a tanned version of Kai, with the one noticeable difference being a cybernetic arm replacing his right one.

"Go after her. Bring her to me. I want her head."

"Father!" Kai yells. "I want her alive!"

"I don't give a damn what you want Kai. You won't inherit anything if you keep going down this path. Now, Dylan. I want her head on a platter. If you want, have your way with her before you do so, I don't care. Just bring her to me."