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chapter one
NEW BEGINNINGS
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WATER IS FILLING HER lungs. Though she tries, she can't break through the surface and award herself with the precious air that her lungs so desperately crave. Rather than coughing the water out, she only swallows more of it and subsequently makes her heart race erratically in terror. Her limbs thrash wildly in a futile attempt at swimming. The action only makes her sink faster than a boulder until pressure begins to build in her head. She's never been able to do it, so why should it save her now?

Her vision is blackening at the corners. Growing tired, she ceases her senseless squirming and stares up at the sunlight fluttering through the waves in the world above. Bubbles rise from her mouth. Her hair is floating around her, limbs feeling like they're filled with lead. It's laughable how peaceful this is— her terror subsides into acceptance, aware that this is the end, but somehow okay with that.

The last thing she sees is the glaring sunshine before her vision goes completely black.

Lena comes hurtling out of the nightmare as fast as a freight train, sitting up in her bed with her chest heaving. She places a hand to her throat as a phantom pain pulses there. It feels almost as though she actually had swallowed a huge gulp of water— although she's safe in the protection of her room, her body tricks her into thinking the dream had been real.

She closes her eyes and releases a rush of air through her mouth. Forcing her breaths to even out, she slowly inhales through her nose as adrenaline makes her hands shake more than usual.

Her room is pitch black. It must be very early in the morning, for the sun starts to rise as early as five-thirty now that it's so close to summer. The darkness elongates the shadows dancing across her walls and sends a shiver down her spine.

Lena tosses her covers back, finding them damp from sweat and crinkling her nose in disgust. She squints in the dim lighting and catches sight of the poem she'd haphazardly scrawled on a piece of looseleaf paper and tossed onto her nightstand. Ever since... then, she's been finding solace in poetry. It has helped her through some of her roughest moments. When she comes crawling out of nightmares — which seems to be more often than not, these days — it helps to purge her feelings out through words.

Snatching the paper up, she scans the title and huffs a laugh out of her nose. It's about drowning— how ironic. It's her biggest fear and one of her greatest weaknesses; even being around water is enough to make her jittery.

But the words on the page still ring true.

THE GIRL WHO DROWNED
by Lena Santos

I've never liked the ocean,
never longed to taste the sting
of salt water on my tongue
or to let the tide rush over my feet.

I've always had a fear of drowning,
thinking that the reckless waves
will yank me under and drag me along
with their relentless current.

I'm not near water, yet it feels
like I am drowning.
My ears plug, my lungs can't receive
the oxygen that they need and begin
to burn, warning that I will need to take
that final breath soon— the one that
will seal my fate. It seems like a
sweet release but is actually the
kiss of death in disguise.

What is left of me?
For it feels like I washed up on the shore
and left my old self behind.

Lena folds the paper back up and throws it back onto her bedside table. Re-reading the words written in her own handwriting makes the feelings come rushing back, sinking their claws into her mind and forcing her to relive them.

Her lip trembles as she reaches for her cell phone that's plugged into the wall. Unlocking the screen, she sends a quick text to her friend Graham Seager, knowing he'll be up regardless of the hour.

LENA LENA BO BENA: another nightmare

Graham answers so quickly that she wonders if he'd been waiting for her message.

GRAHAM CRACKER: what was it about?

LENA LENA BO BENA: drowning. it felt so real this time

GRAHAM CRACKER: do you think it's due to subconscious fears about venice?

LENA LENA BO BENA: maybe

Lena bites her lip in hesitation before her thumbs race across the keyboard to type the next text.

LENA LENA BO BENA: see for yourself

GRAHAM CRACKER: lena. no.

LENA LENA BO BENA: it's okay. i want you to see what i saw— you're a veteran at this stuff

GRAHAM CRACKER: a veteran at recovering from nightmares, maybe, but not at looking through people's minds without hurting them

LENA LENA BO BENA: graham

GRAHAM CRACKER: fine. you know the drill. stay calm and don't force me out

Lena puts her phone down and stares ahead at the shadows lurking in her bedroom. She can feel the exact moment that Graham uses them to travel— not physically, but just his consciousness. A cringe twists her face when she feels a poke at her brain. It's this part that's always the strangest, having an acute awareness that there's someone else rifling through her dreams — both good and bad — while simultaneously accessing her greatest fears.

It takes an intense amount of trust for a transaction like this to occur. But both Lena and Graham know that they trust each other the most in the world, and so she doesn't feel a shred of fear when she senses him replaying her most recent nightmare.

And then, just as quickly as he'd come, his presence vanishes.

It's the buzzing of her phone that makes her jump.

GRAHAM CRACKER: yikes

LENA LENA BO BENA: thanks for the valuable insight

GRAHAM CRACKER: sorry. it did look real and it sucks that you've been having these dreams so often. i wish my powers involved taking away people's nightmares instead of making them relive their worst ones

Lena twists her mouth to the side at his confession. It isn't the first time he's said this. She knows that Graham isn't fond of his powers— the ones that allow him to merge with the shadows, manifest nightmares, and seek out people's greatest fears, but they've also aided in countless battles they've fought along with their friend Peter, also known as Spider-Man. He'll usually distract them with fear so kicking their asses is easier. He's helped them more than he knows. Since he'd joined the scene, the time it takes them to stop a crime has dropped significantly.

GRAHAM CRACKER: you aren't responding so i'm assuming you went back to bed. if not, GO BACK TO BED. love you, lee

LENA LENA BO BENA: love you too

But she knows sleep won't come easily, so instead of trying to force slumber to come, she does a swift calculation of the time in her head and taps the Facetime icon on her phone.

-♕-

Lena's mind is a whirlwind of activity. Even without the advanced technology she needs, her brain throws itself into action, causing her to scribble equations onto a pad of paper with her calculations speeding along before her hand can even write them down. Her tongue pokes out from between her lips in thought.

"Yeah, that sounds right," she says after a moment of consideration. "Your tech is a bit different than what we used, but the central ingredients for the stabilizer are the same. I don't think it should cause much of a mishap, if any."

Shuri nods, eyes focused on the laboratory control console that sits out of the camera's view. She must have her phone propped up against something extremely stable, because it sits perfectly still. Lena's keeps slipping from where it rests against the pencil cup on her desk.

"That's what I was thinking," the princess agrees in her strong Wakandan accent. She glances into the camera, a twinkle in her brown eyes that reflect the light of the screens around her. "I'll have it finished in two or three hours— then I can do a test run and let you know the results."

"Okay," Lena says. "An actual test run, or..."

Shuri cracks a grin. "Unless you want me to send one of my lab partners all the way to Queens just to extract more energy from you and leave, then it will be a simulated test run." She pauses, tilting her head in exaggerated thought. "Or I could just have you come here and miss your trip..."

"No!" Lena exclaims a bit too quickly and a bit too loudly. She tucks a messy section of hair behind her ear when Shuri raises her eyebrows in amusement. "Uh, sorry, but no. I've been wanting to go to Paris since I learned about Le Procope— that famous restaurant where Voltaire used to drink forty cups of coffee every single day, you know? I just want to see it up close and then I can die happily."

A new voice pops into their conversation. "Most people would be dying to see the Eiffel Tower, but you want to visit an old café? Sounds about right."

Lena rockets from her desk chair and spins around, gaping at Graham, who is now sitting innocently on her bed. He'd discovered his ability to shadow travel shortly after Lena had teamed up with Spider-Man to stop an alien weapon heist. Ever since then, he's been using his powers as much as he can, occasionally popping into her apartment and giving her family heart attacks. Ma had jokingly hit him with a dish towel after he'd appeared in their kitchen just to sneak a bite of whatever she was cooking.

She glares at him. "Graham! What did I tell you about things like privacy and I'm a teenage girl who may be, I don't know, getting dressed?"

"You look pretty dressed to me," Graham says, the smirk tugging the corners of his lips making the permanent bags under his eyes more prominent. He barely sleeps due to the side-effects of his powers. The results include a compromised immune system and him constantly drinking anything containing caffeine, giving his dark skin a papery texture.

Lena glances down at her sweatpants and royal blue Midtown Tech Robotics Club t-shirt. She is most definitely not dressed, and he knows it. He just likes being a pain in her ass.

Shuri's laughter rings from Lena's phone as the girl throws a pencil at her friend. "Go! Leave! Get out of my room!"

Graham endures her torment via stationery for a few moments before whisking away in the shadows provided by the overly-stuffed bookshelf against her wall. Lena sighs and turns toward the princess, collapsing back into her desk chair with more force than necessary. "Sorry about that. He's been doing that way more often than he used to ever since..."

Ever since the snap. Lena can't make herself say it, not even using the stupid terminology that the rest of the world is using— the Blip.

"It's okay," Shuri says sympathetically. "No worries— I have everything set up anyways. I'll text you the results later?"

Lena nods in agreement. "Sounds good. Thanks, Shuri."

"No problem."

The call disconnects, leaving Lena sitting alone in the silence of her bedroom. That quiet is broken a second later by Ma's scream from the living room of their apartment. Graham must have shadow-traveled there after she'd forced him out of her room, a guess that becomes more probable when Lena hears Ma lecturing her friend in Tagalog, none of which he will understand because he isn't bilingual like her.

Lena decides not to rescue her friend from the torment of the Adoptive Filipino Mother Scolding and instead heads to her closet to pick out her clothes for the day. It's now six-thirty in the morning, and the sun is starting to spill orange and pink light across the sky outside her bedroom window. The day will heat up quickly despite the air conditioning they blast at school. She frowns as she looks at the options she has.

Some of her clothing has gone out of style. It reflects the time in which she'd gotten dusted — or Blipped, as everyone else calls it — and makes her stick out like a sore thumb at times. Not that she's ever really cared about attracting attention to herself, but something about wearing clothing that's five years in the past makes her feel like she sticks out in a bad way.

Lena ultimately decides to wear a pair of cutoff jeans, a white Beatles t-shirt she'd made herself, and chucks her favorite red Converse onto her feet. She pulls out a tube of concealer and works on covering up her undereye circles. She'd never been one for makeup in the past, but now she finds herself interested in all of the things she can do with a few brushes and some powder. A few swipes of mascara on her eyelashes makes her look substantially less exhausted. Her hair is too wild to brush without making it look like a tornado, so she settles on haphazardly patting it down before heading out of her bedroom door.

She walks into the kitchen to see Ma still chastising Graham. "I could have hit you with the kawali — no, what's the word? — frying pan! And then I would have had to make up some excuse to your mother because she doesn't know about your... that thing! And— oh, good morning, Lena. Your breakfast is on the counter. I'm not done with you! I'm going to have to lay down some ground rules in here for you, young man..."

Lena snickers as Graham shoots her a pleading look. Instead of rescuing him, she sticks her tongue out and slides into her usual seat at the circular kitchen table with her plate of breakfast.

Fifteen minutes later, bellies full and brains stuffed with Ma's lecture, they're ready for their last day of school. Lena grips onto Graham's arm with more force than necessary. She's never liked this, but it's still their quickest way to Midtown Tech.

"Ready?" he asks, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Lena replies halfheartedly. She gives Ma a wave goodbye before Graham steps into a shadow and melts them away.

It's unlike anything she's ever experienced. The only thing that has come close to the sensation of shadow-traveling is the time she spent being dusted, but even that is different in comparison to this. Then, she'd been completely still. Now, she's aware of the fact that she and Graham are hurtling through the darkness even though she can't see anything, unable to even squeeze her eyes shut because she isn't even tangible. It's Graham's grip on her consciousness that keeps them tethered. She hates to think about what would happen if he accidentally let go.

They emerge in an alleyway a block away from school. Lena stumbles as she always does after coming out of shadow-travel, taking a moment to breathe and stop her vision from spinning. She places a hand on the brick wall to her left as her breathless pants begin to even out. Graham, as usual, isn't phased and merely waits for her to recover.

"At least you didn't throw up this time," he says, causing Lena to glare at him and raise her finger in an obscene gesture.

The sky is brightening even more, turning into its usual azure color the closer they walk to the building. The streets are crowded with excited teenagers. Today is the last day of school before summer break— the air buzzes with anticipation, putting smiles on every face they pass. Lena finds a smile lifting her own lips as she climbs the front steps with Graham beside her.

It fades as soon as she sees the school newscast on every single television screen in the school. Poorly-chosen pictures of the fallen Avengers appear in a slideshow with Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" playing in the background, complete with default transitions between them. Normally, Lena would make a joke about the song and picture choice, but this time, she freezes in her tracks. Her breath becomes shallow in her lungs even though she'd just regained control of it.

Tony Stark's face presents itself first. It's like she has tunnel vision, unable to see the school's hallway or anything except him. He looks healthy in the picture they'd chosen, nearly regal with his ruler-straight posture and tiny grin. But all she can remember is the way he'd looked as he died. The pale complexion, the burns lacerating his face, the hollowness of his eyes as the light had faded from them...

Lena is faintly aware of the transition from her former mentor to Steve. And then Natasha. And Vision. She can hardly take it anymore, regretting her decision to wear mascara as a rogue tear escapes her eye and rolls halfway down her cheek before a thumb that isn't hers wipes it away. She turns to see Graham watching her in concern, though she isn't quite comprehending the sight of him.

That is, until someone's shoulder crashes into hers and she snaps entirely out of her trance. A boy sneers at her. "Get a move on."

"You may not think anyone remembers when Queens United Middle School got shut down for two days because you infected half of the school with head lice, Hudson Vernon, but I do!" Graham calls after the boy, who continues down the hall as if he hadn't heard the taunt. Her friend scowls in his direction. "Five years un-Blipped and you become an asshole. Figures."

Lena pointedly avoids looking at the television screens above the rows of lockers lining each hallway. Instead, she glances around as realization dawns on her. "Do you make Max and Owen take the subway every day?"

"Yeah," Graham replies with a shrug. "Sometimes I go with them when I'm not bringing you, but they're not kids anymore. They can handle themselves as well as we can."

Right. Lena still has trouble remembering that Max and Owen Seager aren't the eleven-year-old-boys they'd left behind before the snap. Since they'd been spared, the twins are now in the same grade as them. Or, they will be — thanks to Thanos destroying half of the universe, the would-be seniors have to redo their entire year again. She'd been this close to graduating, and now it's been torn away from her.

Her breathing is slowly returning back to its normal pace. She hadn't even noticed her ears had been ringing, but now that it's stopped, everything seems too loud. Her hands begin to tremble at her sides. She balls them into fists, but they still continue to shake despite her best efforts to keep them still.

"Graham, I—"

"I've got you." Graham, ever the amazing best friend, doesn't hesitate before wrapping an arm around her and sheltering her from view. Her entire body is tense as he leads her further into the crowd of students. It makes it worse at first, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut so she can't see how congested the corridors are this morning. "Go inside."

She cracks her eyes open to see that they're in front of the women's restroom. Lena mumbles a quick thanks before bursting through the swinging door, barely noticing a trio of girls washing their hands at the sinks as she sprints into a stall and slides the lock into place. She holds her shaking hands up to her face. They're already emitting a blue glow, and with the large cracks between the door and wall of the stall, it may be visible.

Lena turns around so she's facing the toilet. Clenching her hands into fists again, she spreads tension into her body until it hurts as she mentally recites her old manta. Not a weapon. Not a weapon. Not a weapon.

A tiny blast of energy puffs from her hands. It's not tall enough to rise above the walls so it shouldn't be seen, but the contained force of it rattles the row of stalls. It takes all of her willpower not to sigh in relief as the tension disappears in her body. She feels looser now, much more relaxed than she had only moments beforehand.

Luckily, the door swings shut and the room falls silent except for the noise that spills in from the hall, meaning the three girls have left. Lena exits quickly. She's eager to join in on the excitement that the last day has to offer, and being trapped in a bathroom stall for the entire day isn't on her bucket list. A little discomfort won't be the end of the world for her.

She opens the door to the bathroom and takes a few hurried steps forward, immediately crashing her head into someone else's as she runs directly into them. Lena draws back with a wince as she brings a hand to her now-aching head. Peter Parker copies her actions, pale face pinched in pain. Her heart lurches frantically in her chest at the realization that she'd just knocked skulls with him.

"Oh, my God, Peter. I'm so sorry!" Lena exclaims in a voice still twinged with hurt.

"It's fine— don't worry about it." Peter grins sheepishly, his smile lingering for a second too long before he catches himself and clears his throat. "Graham told us you were... you know..." He mimics energy blastic from his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Fine now, thanks."

Lena finds herself grinning like an idiot. There's no denying that something had changed in their relationship during the battle with Thanos, turning it into something that has them both smiling at each other nonstop and being partners for every robotics project, brushing hands and blushing profusely. If only they both weren't too stubborn to do something about it.

Ned clears his throat, breaking their stares and causing Peter to take an unusual amount of interest in his shoes. "Glad you're okay, Lena."

"Thanks, Ned." Lena grins as she tucks a short strand of hair behind her ear in slight embarrassment.

She has to admit that it's very strange being in the same class as people five years younger than her. For example, Brad Davis is on the Decathlon team now, and Lena remembers when he was a shy kid who got nosebleeds all the time. He's fairly cute now. Practically every girl is after him, but, to be honest, Lena doesn't understand the hype. With his silky black hair, Chinese heritage, and perfect bone structure, he looks too much like a sculpture for her taste. She prefers adorable and awkward as opposed to cool and charming.

Brad had been talking to her at every Decathlon meeting since she'd come back. The second time he'd asked her out after she'd already said no, she'd stomped on his foot and punched him in the crotch for good measure. He now tries to avoid her as best as he can.

Unfortunately, he's also going on their trip to Europe. It had been organized by Mr. Harrington, meaning it's technically a "science trip," because Mr. Dell is also chaperoning, but Lena had scored a ticket because of her being on the Decathlon team, as had Cindy and Abe. Graham gets to tag along as well because his mother didn't want Max and Owen going alone— she'd been afraid they'd blow a building up for fun.

The most exciting part of her day is watching Inception in Psychology. Other than that, she does nothing except return her school books sit around in her classes until the bell rings, unable to help herself from thinking that she should have been gone a month ago— should have already graduated.

It doesn't help that the entire school is plastered in Iron Man memorabilia. One wall of her AP Statistics class is completely covered in drawings and coloring sheets of him in various mediums, from pencil sketches, to marker, to watercolor paints. She's grateful that her back is to that wall. If she'd been forced to stare at it for the entirety of her time in that class... she might have needed to sprint to an empty bathroom stall again.

Halfway through the class, as her teacher is recalling the way that restaurants really went downhill after the Blip, Lena's phone buzzes with a text.

PETER PARKOUR: Mr. Dell is telling us all about the different types of witchcraft we may encounter in Venice and I'm so bored!!

PETER PARKOUR: Did you know that they supposedly unearthed a female vampire in Venice who was wearing a witch hat? Because now I do

LEE: i think mr dell has finally gone off his rocker

LEE: wait

LEE: ask him if he thinks havoc's a witch

PETER PARKOUR: Flash already did! Mr. Dell said yes, and that he's terrified of ever coming into contact with her in fear she'll melt his insides or something

LEE: wow, it would really be a shame if she paid him a visit one day

PETER PARKOUR: Lena no

She snickers down at her phone.

"Is something about Chili's shutting down funny to you, Lena?" Ms. Clarice asks, causing her head to snap up and her eyes to widen a fraction. The entire class is looking at her. Some of them seem relieved that her texting had given them a break from their teacher's ranting.

"Not as funny as Sub Haven going out of business," Lena replies in a horrible attempt to be funny. When Ms. Clarice raises an eyebrow at her, she shrugs with a feeble smile. "I mean, come on, that place used way too much bread."

The end of the school day brings her a type of satisfaction she didn't know she had. Even though Graham had offered to shadow-travel her home, she'd turned it down in order to take the subway, certain that she'd be sick that time around. The Seager brothers have to stay behind to pack up the band room, anyway. That's how Peter and Lena wind up walking to the subway on their own.

The air is warm but not humid, a slight breeze tousling Lena's bangs across her forehead. She finds herself brushing a hand along them every few minutes to keep them tamed. Before she'd gotten her hair cut, she could have simply run her hand through the wavy strands to get it out of her face, but now she has to deal with the misfortune that is under-bang sweat. She hopes it isn't too noticeable.

"So, uh, are you packed for the trip yet?" Peter questions, hands tugging on the strings of his blue hoodie as he walks alongside her.

"Peter, this is me we're talking about," she reminds him with a grin. "I've been packed for two weeks. You?"

His head ducks down in slight embarrassment. "No..."

"What?" she exclaims through a huff of a laugh. She can't say that she's surprised, but she'd at least thought he'd be halfway done by now. "We leave in a matter of days."

"I know, I've just been putting it off. I've had a lot of opportunities to do it, but I — I can't."

Lena stops short on the sidewalk, turning toward him with a grave expression. "Peter, if this is about money, I told you that we would help you out in any way we can—"

"And I told you we're fine," he replies calmly. His brown eyes search her worried ones for a moment until he reaches forward, grabs her hand, and gives it a thankful squeeze. "We're fine."

"Peter, you've been wearing the same five shirts and two pairs of pants since we came back," she says, not caring that the simple sentence reveals how much she pays attention to him on a daily basis. "I know you don't like asking for help and I know we don't have much either, but I hate to see you and May scraping by like this."

Since both Peter and May had disappeared for five years, their apartment had gotten taken over by new residents. They'd had to move into a newer, smaller one with barely enough furniture to consider it furnished. Lena has visited once or twice. His room contains hardly anything more than a bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and the weird tank thing that stores his new Iron Spider suit in nanite form.

"I'm not trying to offend you," she adds hastily upon realizing that her concern could be taken the wrong way. "I'm just saying this because I— because I care."

Peter nods and gives her hand another squeeze. "I know. But that's why I'm having that fundraiser, remember? For all of the people who were made homeless."

Lena curses. "That banquet is tonight, isn't it? I'm so sorry— it's Pa's birthday and he wants to celebrate by eating a lot of food and having a family night. It's his first one with us back, so—"

"Don't apologize. I get it."

She wishes she could split herself in two and have one side of her go to the banquet and the other stay at home with her parents. Balancing her real life and superhero life has been tougher than normal lately. It seems that everyone wants Havoc's attention now that she's back, and the result is her being nearly ambushed every time she goes out in her suit. It's nice meeting people who look up to her, but facing a near-mob when she's volunteering at the animal shelter is not something she wants to do.

Whether she likes it or not, the world has changed. And the worst part is that she's considered lucky. Lucky that at least her father had survived, that he'd immediately found work and had minimized his usage of cable, internet, water, and electricity enough to scrape by on his own. Lucky that he'd busted his ass cleaning their apartment so it would be just the way they left it when or if they returned. Lucky that only one of her parents had disappeared on their wedding anniversary. Lucky that all of this had led to them keeping what they had.

Because some people hadn't been that fortunate. Animal shelters became stocked with cats and dogs that had no owners— that's the reason why she helps out there whenever she can, assisting people in finding their lost pets if they haven't been adopted by someone who hadn't been Blipped. Services slowed down or closed completely as workers were minimized. For five years, life continued on, but people had to work twice as hard just to make a living.

Now they're living in the aftermath of that. And Lena isn't quite sure that she's ready for what the rest of the world has to offer her.

________

a/n:

man, it's chapter one and lena is already suffering

i hope you enjoyed this chapter! i tried to introduce aspects that will be relevant later on/create a bridge between endgame and ffh. lena has shuri's number! shuri is working on stabilizing her powers! graham's abilities have increased! brad asked lena out 3 times and got punched in the nuts! peter and lena are two stubborn little shits who won't admit their feelings!

what are you guys most excited about for this book? personally, i'm hyped for the scene in berlin where mysterio forces all of his illusions on the three teenagers. because, oh boy, am i going to be relentless when it comes to their pain and emotional trauma (:

i know cindy and abe weren't in the movie, but they're going to be in this book because they're my children and lena needs to spend more time with a girl friend (or girlfriend, whichever what you wanna put it)

also: yes, lena talking about sub haven is a reference to their conversation with aaron davis in homecoming!

—kristyn

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