"What's wrong with some light stabbing?"
Delving into vigilante-ism, Charlie Redmond has balance everything from her superhero neighbor to her math tests to her inability to talk about her feelings. Unlike her morally righteous co-worker, Spider-Man...
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I assumed being run over by a semi-truck wouldn't have been too off from how I felt. Too many vivid words could have painted how I felt, but the most accurate and concise would be shit. Or to more descriptive, like frozen shit.
Fuzzy pain cultivated over my body, there were sounds and smells I couldn't place in the fog. A noise that progressively got higher in pitch with blobby words was the first thing I could place. Peter.
"She's not dead, suits vital signs show she has a pulse." Another voice, I recognized as Tony's sighed and reminded Peter to count down backward from ten.
My eyes snapped open as I felt pressure on my cheek. Metal swirled on my tongue, and I realize the pressure was Peter's hand on my cheek. His attention is placed on Iron Man hovering near us.
"But what if she—"
"What fuck are you doing?" I croaked out, and Peter's eyes went wide. His palm moved away from his cheek as it had stung him. "Are we in a park?"
"Observant as usual. See, good as new." Tony exclaimed as Peter let out a calmed down a sigh.
"I thought you were dead," He moved into for a hug, but I pushed my palm on his chest. Something about hugs had been getting on my nerves. Blame it on the funeral, never had I wanted less people hugging me and rubbing my back than I did staring at a corpse.
I coughed out whatever water was left and almost threw up. His brows pinched together, and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "I'm fine."
"Great." Tony's voice interrupted, and he crossed his iron man suit-clad arms. "Now that that's resolved, let's talk about the elephant in the room: what the hell possessed the both of you go after the arms dealer?"
A Peter sized tangent ensues, which proved to be more entertaining than I thought it'd be. He does wild gestures and distorted voices that almost distracted me from my shivering. "How did you even find us? Did you put a tracker in our suits?"
"I put everything in your suit, including this heater." With his annoying words came a blare of warm heat from within my suit, and I almost moaned in relief. It's so cozy. I crossed my arms closer to my chest and leaned and on the playground structure next to me.
"The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons. We got to take him down."
"Take him down, now, huh?" Tony mused sarcastically, and I winced at Peter's face. "Steady, crocket. There are people who handle this sort of thing."
Clearly, they aren't, or else two fifteen year olds won't be doing this.
"The Avengers?"
"No, no, no, this is a little below their pay grade." He replied, and Peter's hopes were shot down. A pinch of annoyance strummed through me, are regular people not good enough for them? Did they only have time for internal disputes?
