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chapter four
WATER YOU DOING?
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ST. MARK'S SQUARE IS bustling with activity. The popular tourist destination has no shortage of visitors in the middle of a sunny Tuesday afternoon, forcing the group of students from Midtown Tech to bunch together to keep from being separated. The beautiful European architecture surrounding them gleams a bright white and shiny gold due to the completely clear sky above. A flock of pigeons disrupts their path, making Abe throw up a hand to protect his face from the birds. Mr. Harrington batters a particularly pesky one away from his shoulder.

"Alright, everyone!" Mr. Dell shouts over the chaos. "You can explore around here, but remember: we're meeting at the Da Vinci Museum and three o'clock sharp! Bring a buddy if you decide to venture off, okay? I don't want anybody going anywhere alone."

One of the other kids – a boy who hadn't been dusted in the snap – salutes their teacher. "You got it, Mr. D."

Lena is grateful that she'd taken off her jacket before leaving the hotel. Her forest green, boxy t-shirt allows the gentle breeze to brush across her skin, the sunlight beating down onto the parts of her calves that her paper bag capris don't cover. It's warmer than she'd thought it would be. She regrets not bringing a pair of sunglasses out with her and shields her eyes with her hand, squinting to see as tourists wander around them.

"Betty and I are going on a gondola ride," Ned informs them, his voice breaking Lena's concentration. She notices that he'd put a fedora on at some point. He must have a thing for them– she recalls him wearing one to Liz Allan's house party back when she was a junior.

"Okay," Graham replies with a shrug. "We'll meet you back at the museum, then? I'll– MAX!"

He abruptly cuts himself off when he notices his younger brother clutching a writhing pigeon in both hands, arms outstretched toward a yelling Owen, chasing him around. Both boys come screeching to a halt and look at Graham innocently.

"Put that thing down, or so help me, God–"

Graham screams when Max rushes at him with the bird, face locked in fury as he ducks around the twin's hands and grips onto his brother's wrists with both hands. The pigeon flaps its wings and caws loudly in anger. Wings flap dangerously close to their faces; it's a wonder Max hasn't gotten his fingers stabbed by its beak yet.

A beat of silence. Graham doesn't even look afraid of the thing anymore. Instead, Max has lost the element of surprise and is being faced with the infamous Specter– the vigilante who projects fear onto others. Not that he knows that, though.

"Put it down," Graham repeats firmly, his face dark with warning. "Don't make me reference dead memes to coerce you, or I swear to God, I will start singing Peanut Butter Jelly Time in the middle of St. Mark's Square and make you dance along with me. I have nothing to lose."

Max looks terrified now. He rips himself away and releases the pigeon, causing the group of teenagers to jump back in case the bird decides to get revenge. It eagerly flies away instead. They all watch it disappear into the azure sky in silence.

"Anyway, have fun on your gondola," Graham says to Ned and Betty as if the entire thing hadn't just transpired.

Betty blinks. "Right."

Ned, however, is used to what transpires between Graham and his brothers on the daily, and merely smiles. "Okay, see you guys later!"

The couple leaves. Lena doesn't watch them go in fear of turning back toward the canal system, choosing instead to rifle through her bag until she finds her trusty polaroid camera.

"Everyone do something cool," she requests, pressing the button on the front that turns the camera on. "I wanna get some awesome pictures."

"I can grab another pigeon if you want," Max offers. Graham immediately punches him in the gut, causing him to double over and for Graham to roll his eyes.

"It wasn't even that hard of a punch, you overdramatic asshole."

Owen raises his hand. "I vote we all throw Max into the canal and take a picture of that."

Lena frowns. "Um, I was thinking more of what MJ's doing over there."

She points to where MJ stands toward the center of the square, arms outstretched and several pigeons standing on her arms. One particularly pesky bird lands on her shoulder. When she turns to face it, it makes a move as if to peck her face and she yanks her head back in surprise, causing nearly every bird to fly away at the abrupt movement.

"I'm going over there," Lena announces before squeezing through the crowd, heading straight toward MJ and the several other students surrounding her. Brad is filming her on his phone. His mouth is open in a laugh, but he stiffens upon her arrival.

Lena raises her camera. MJ notices and lifts her arms on either side of her, causing a couple of birds to flock over and land on her. She tilts her head to the side as she looks straight-faced into the lense, appearing like some sort of commander of pigeons.

She snaps the picture. "Great!"

"Someone's playing music," Cindy notes, tilting her head up to determine where it's coming from. Lena becomes aware of the sound of violins above the commotion in the square. It sounds vaguely familiar, but only because she's been to many school band concerts in her lifetime. She doesn't actually know the names of the classical songs she's heard.

"Sounds like Mozart's Symphony Number 17 in..." Graham pauses, listening for a few seconds longer before determining, "G–"

"Major!" Owen chimes in, then crosses his arms defensively. "I know music, too."

"Let's dance!" Cindy exclaims, holding her hand out for Lena to accept. The taller girl cracks a wide grin, handing her polaroid to Graham before accepting her friend's request and taking her hand.

The two girls twirl and swing each other around ridiculously to the rhythm of the song, disrupting the nearby pigeons even further and causing them to fly away instead of pecking at the ground at their feet. Lena is aware of the goofy smile stretching her lips so wide it hurts. They must look stupid like this, spinning each other around until Lena's bangs get in her eyes and Cindy is breathing heavily through her fit of laughter, but she can't bring herself to care.

Especially when they stop, Lena holding one of Cindy's legs in the air as the shorter girl leans back with her arms above her head in a fantastic Ta-da! pose, and Peter is smiling at Lena like she put the sun in the sky.

Abe applauds them politely, joined by a few of the other kids in the group that Lena doesn't know. They're about to return to looking like normal, functioning people when Graham shouts, "Wait!" and dives in front of them with Lena's polaroid. Cindy's leg shakes in Lena's hands from the strain of being held up for so long. Once he gives them a thumbs up, they straighten up with a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," Cindy gasps, reaching down to rub her leg. "My thighs were burning."

"Hopefully they turned out okay," Graham says, handing Lena her camera and two still-developing photos. "I tried to take one of you guys dancing, but it might come out all blurry."

She thanks him and tucks the camera back into her bag for safekeeping. When she's about to pull out a brochure for a nearby tourist attraction to visit, Peter clears his throat. Lena glances up to see him with a pink tinge in his cheeks, wringing his hands together as he rocks on his feet.

"Over there is the Museo Correr," he says, pointing to the long, white building that takes up the entirety of one side of the square. "I know we're about to head over to the Da Vinci Museum, but, uh... Would you like to check it out? With... me?"

There's a beat of silence on Lena's end as her heart thumps wildly in her chest. Her hands are still shoved into her bag, back bent awkwardly as her brain processes his question. He wants to go to a museum with her. Just her. Her mind whirls with the possibilities, wondering if this counts as a date. Does it? The crush-infused part of her brain says yes, yes, yes! but the logical part reminds her that just because he's asking her doesn't mean that it's a romantic outing.

"Sure," she says with a small grin, releasing her grip on the brochure in her grasp and dropping it back into her purse. She turns around to face the rest of the group. "Peter and I are going to check out a museum. We'll see you guys later, then?"

"Yeah," Max agrees.

"Don't fall for those tourist traps where thieves distract you to steal your money," MJ reminds them, batting away another bird.

"We won't," Peter promises. "Thanks."

Just before Lena turns back around, she catches sight of Cindy wiggling her eyebrows at her. Lena gives her a glare and feels her cheeks warm.

"Come on, Peter," she sighs, absentmindedly grabbing his hand so they don't lose each other in the crowd.

The museum's exterior is beautiful. The stone architecture is carved with intricate designs around the many arches at the bottom, with smaller arches above them where windows lay. Each one has a decorative balcony that stretches along the entirety of the perimeter. She marvels at the carvings of figures near the top, but she can't make out exactly what they are with the sun shining into her eyes.

The area they've moved into is less congested. Lena holds her breath, waiting for Peter to let go since the original purpose for their hand-holding is no longer present. But he doesn't release her, so she doesn't release him, and soon they're entering through the main archway and stepping into the most beautiful lobby she's ever seen.

She's about to step into the insanely long line for tickets when Peter gently tugs her the other way. She stops, confused, until he holds up his phone and shows her a receipt. "I'm really glad you said yes, because I kinda already bought the tickets."

"Peter!" she exclaims in surprise. "How long have you had these? How much do I owe you?"

"Uh, not... that... long," he replies, but something in his tone doesn't make her believe him. She flushes at the thought of him waiting for this moment for a while. "And it wasn't much– you don't have to pay me back."

"Peter–"

"It's my treat."

"No–"

"Think of it as an early Christmas present."

"It's June!"

Ultimately, he drags her to the pre-purchased ticket line (which is considerably shorter), and Lena blames his super strength for being able to move her so easily. She makes a mental note to research the ticket prices later so she can somehow slip money into his pocket.

Their shoes echo on the glossy checkered floor once they get inside, the sounds made louder by the high walls and dome-shaped ceiling. Lena feels like she can't take in the sights long enough. She cranes her neck so much it hurts, yearning to get a look at every inch of this place. Peter lets out a chuckle from beside her when she tilts her head back so far that her neck cracks.

"Let's try to find paintings that look like each other!" she suggests excitedly, pulling him along into the first exhibit room that they see. "Our artistic doppelgangers, you know?"

Lena's eyes roam the walls filled with paintings. Peter does the same, both of them searching for a piece with the least bit of resemblance to each other. She even checks the sculptures just to make sure she isn't missing anything. The light shining through the many windows gives them the perfect view, but when it glints off of one of the golden frames, Lena finds herself nearly blinded.

Finally, her gaze snatches onto a particular painting. She squeezes Peter's hand to get his attention and points at the canvas. "That's you."

It's an image of a medieval-era man's portrait. His black shirt nearly blends in with the gray background, but the white, frilly collar makes his face stand out. He's pale with somewhat rosy cheeks, brown hair shorter than Peter's and shoved under an artist's hat. With the wide brown eyes and thin lips, it could have been Peter if the person looking at it squinted and tilted their head to the side.

"Eh," Peter replies, doing exactly that. "I don't see it."

Lena's heart sings the entirety of the time that they spend in the Museo de Correr. She finds herself smiling at random moments and laughing more than she has in a while from the comments that Peter makes on the art, including pointing at a sculpture of a half-naked man and whispering, "That ass," which almost makes her crack up in the middle of the quiet exhibit.

It takes them three rooms for Peter to finally locate an art piece that he thinks resembles her. He positions her in front of it with his hands over her eyes, making her tap her foot impatiently with nervous energy as he stalls just to annoy her.

"Come on, Peter," she sighs, trying to shake his hands off of her face with no success. "Just let me see."

"Fine!" he replies in mock discouragement at her negative response to his stalling. "One, two..."

He removes his hands, causing Lena to blink a few times as her pupils adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the window. Her eyebrows crease as her brain processes the image. Then, she turns around and jokingly slaps him on the shoulder. "Peter!"

The painting isn't even of a person. Instead, Peter had chosen an image of a comically large, round-faced cat dozing on the grass to be her doppelganger. He thinks it's the funniest thing in the world judging by how hard he's clamping his lips together to suppress a laugh, his cheeks full of air that bursts out when he flickers his gaze back to the painting.

Upon inspecting it again, it does make Lena start to giggle as well. Soon they're struggling to compose themselves in front of a random painting of a cat with multiple passersby shooting them bewildered looks. Lena's face is red, with Peter's cheeks tinted a cherry blossom color from lack of air.

Finally, they manage to stop laughing just enough for Lena to nod back to the canvas and say, "That's actually Graham."

Peter bursts out into another fit of chuckles, holding onto his chest and tears springing to his eyes.

Lena wipes water from her own face. "God, what is so damn funny about that stupid cat?"

"Probably the fact that its head looks like a tortilla," Peter responds.

"You aren't wrong."

They look back at each other then, radiant smiles spread across both of their faces. Lena doesn't think she's felt this much unabashed joy since the battle at the Avengers Compound. She thinks a part of her had desperately needed this, and, judging by the happiness filling Peter's gaze, she thinks he had, too.

Lena glances at his lips. It's an involuntary motion, and since they're the same height and he's staring directly at her, there's no doubt in Lena's mind that Peter had noticed. She quickly averts her gaze, acutely aware of the charged energy between them and the way that every nerve in her body yearns to touch his skin.

And then she remembers the Da Vinci Museum.

"Shit," she gasps, stepping back and pulling her phone out of her bag. "It's almost three. The museum's easily a half an hour away."

Peter wrestles his own phone out of the back pocket of his khakis. "There's no way we can make it on time at this point. We could text Mr. Harrington and let him know we'll be late, I guess."

Lena's heightened nerves relax at his logical response. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. There's no point in running there when we'll be late either way."

They head out of the museum, but not before Lena takes a quick photo of the cat painting. The sunlight hits them full-force as they step back out into the bustling square. Before they can make it far, though, she's struck with an idea and yanks her polaroid out of her bag.

"Smile!" she says, aiming the camera toward them and checking the small mirror in the front to make sure they're actually in the frame. She can feel Peter's front pressed against her back, his head popping over her shoulder as he grins. Her hand slightly trembles at their close proximity as she takes the picture. When it comes out of the top of the camera, she plucks it out and holds it up again so Peter can have a copy.

"Thanks," he mumbles shyly when she hands him his photo, tucking it into his pocket.

She and Peter start to head in the direction of the Da Vinci Museum. The route leads them closer to the canals, and the more water she can see, the more tense Lena gets. Her gaze stays pointedly locked ahead of her so she doesn't glance at the gondolas drifting by.

Noticing her unease, Peter takes her hand and entwines their fingers together. Lena finds herself gaining strength from his steady grip. He walks on the side of the pathway closest to the canal, making her feel more secure from the fact that his solid form separates her and the seemingly endless stretch of water.

Then he stops, causing her to halt along with him. "Wait. Lee, look."

"I don't think I wanna," she replies in a half-groan.

"No, seriously. Look."

At his tone, Lena sucks in a breath before following his gaze to the water. It's churning. Lena's brow furrows when she notices a series of ripples with seemingly no cause moving straight toward the intersection, then she jumps back when a tidal wave bursts from the middle of it. Several gondolas are yanked under the water. One is pushed straight toward Lena and Peter, a series of familiar-sounding screams erupting from it. The boat containing Ned and Betty rises over the barrier between the sidewalk and the canal, its pointed end crashing into the stone wall of the nearest building.

"Ned!" Peter cries, rushing over to help his friend out of the boat. Lena surges forward to grab onto Betty and assist her in stepping onto solid ground.

MJ appears out of nowhere to see if they need any more help. Her mouth is slack, thin body tense with fright as she surveys the gondola. "What happened?"

"Holy shit!" Ned shouts, staring wide-eyed behind her. Lena turns around to see the canal water rising into the air in a series of swirls, conflating together to form what almost looks like a man. Its burly arms are bent as if about to throw a punch, wide mouth opening to release a haunting screech. "What the hell is that?"

"I don't know!" Peter whispers in reply.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I left my suit in the hotel room!"

"What? Why?"

Peter sighs. "Because I'm on vacation, Ned!" He glances back at the anomaly, making sure Betty and MJ are preoccupied before whispering, "Everyone is gonna see my face. Just get them out of here!"

Ned seems happy to oblige. MJ and Betty are too busy running up the flight of stairs to their left to notice that two people are missing from their group. Lena sprints to the boat and helps civilians over it, passing them to Peter, who urges them away from the chaos in the canal.

"Lena!" Peter cries. She whirls around to see him miming her activating her suit by placing a hand to his chest.

She feels the familiar weight of the nanotech on her chest. Glancing back at the water-made man, she flinches as he forms a fist and slams it into the nearest building. Chunks of stone go flying into the churning waves. Bystanders scream as debris flies onto them.

"There's no time!" she calls back.

"Yes, there is!" Peter replies. "I'll hold him off until you get back."

"You don't have your suit!"

"I'll think of something. Go!"

Lena doesn't give herself time to debate before she flings herself into the chaos surrounding them. In the thick of the hoard of people rushing to find safety, she has to fight in order to locate the nearest alley. Nobody notices when she ducks into it, and nobody pays attention when she drops her bag onto the ground and covers it with a cardboard box after yanking her wig out. She activates the nanotech and pulls the platinum blonde wig on at the same time. It takes seconds for it to cover her body in silver fabric, but those seconds feel like years.

She can't emerge out of this alley– everyone would know where she came from and someone might find her bag. Instead, she turns to her left and breaks the door handle with a blast of energy. She yanks it open and finds herself in the kitchen of a restaurant, half-empty from people noticing the threat outside.

Chefs and other staff whirl around to face her. She motions out the door, shouting, "Andiamo!" and hoping they get the memo.

Luckily, they understand what she means, or seem to get the gist of what a famous vigilante pointing frantically at the door means. Several chefs rush past her, muttering their thanks in Italian. Lena doesn't know what she did aside from open a door, but she nods along anyway.

Lena bursts into the restaurant, which is empty of all customers. The glass windows facing the canals provide the perfect view of the Water Man's show in the intersection. He towers above the buildings surrounding him, roaring furiously every time one of his car-sized fists strikes something.

She throws her hands behind her and lets out a stream of energy, rocketing out of the front doors as fast as she can make herself move. When she's in the air and has a bird's-eye view of the thing causing so much destruction, she also catches sight of a familiar figure clad in a blue flannel hopping along the wooden poles of the gondola docks. Peter is heading straight toward the stone bridge. And, as her eyes flicker back toward the scene, she realizes why: so is Water Man.

Lena releases energy from her feet and pushes herself faster, her heart racing as she finds herself above the open water of the canal. A man made of her worst fear is barreling toward her. If he makes an impact, she's going to lose control and drown.

Peter uses a flexible pole to launch himself onto the bridge parkour-style. Sweat breaks out on Lena's hairline as she races Water Man toward it, then she finally decides that she's not going to beat him there and stretches her hands out to knock him off-balance with a blast of energy.

Nothing happens.

Lena watches in total confusion as her powers seem to phase right through it as if it were butter. Panic makes her heart seize in her chest, taking her back to a time in a forest in Wakanda when her powers had been reduced to nothing but butterflies. It's like she can feel Thanos' hand around her throat–

The punch that smashes into the bridge knocks her off-kilter in the air. She does several cartwheels before regaining her balance, arms windmilling in an effort to upright herself. Her fingers hurry to brush her hair out of her eyes.

Lena sticks her arms straight out and hurls another blast at Water Man, only for the same effect to occur. She frowns. It seems that this thing is immune to her abilities.

Graham's voice crackles in her earpiece, which she'd hastily shoved on in the alley. "I can't get a fear read on this guy!"

"I don't think he's capable of fear," Lena replies, choosing instead to envelop Peter in a protective bubble and keep him from slamming back into the railing on the other side of the bridge. He's soaked to the bone from the wave produced by Water Man's blow.

"Great," Graham grumbles. "It's too bright for me to shadow travel out here. Where are you?"

"By the bridge," she answers, releasing the bubble around Peter and turning around to make sure no other civilians are being targeted. "It's immune to my energy, too. I think our best bet here is to minimize damage."

Lena drops onto the bridge to give herself a break from flying in place. She hauls a dripping-wet Peter to his feet, droplets of water dripping onto her suit from his clothes, skin, and hair that's plastered to his forehead.

"Damage control," she tells him. "Are your webs doing anything?"

He shakes his head. "No–"

They both whirl around at a flash of green light. Lena's mouth drops open at the sight of a figure with a red cape descending from the sky, face concealed by a glass ball that's filled with gray mist. Their broad figure informs her that it's a guy, and a guy with powers, at that. He hovers above them for a moment, drawing his hands back and producing two triangles that glow a bright green in the sunlight.

"The mask," Peter mumbles, releasing his grip on Lena and swiping a blue and gold mask from the ground. It makes him look absolutely ridiculous. However, it covers his face, so she guesses it's for the best that he wears it.

The green-powered guy shoots a stream at Water Man, and this time, his abilities seem to work, whatever they happen to be. He appears to be putting up a fairly decent fight, his magnificent maroon cape sailing behind him as he darts in a circle. Water Man gets turned around after trying to follow him, his hulking frame too big to move very quickly. Then he gets a lucky shot and his fist sends Cape Guy crashing into a dock.

Graham sprints up the bridge, breathing heavily through the shadows he can manage to conjure in such bright light. He stops beside them and stares at Water Man in horror for a moment. Then, he turns toward Peter and does a double-take.

"What the hell is that on your face?" he demands.

"I needed something to cover it, okay?" Peter replies defensively, keeping his eyes locked on the monster in the canal.

Lena jumps as the thing releases another bone-chilling roar, seeming to grow in size, rising into the air along with a series of mini-monsters that are formed from the waves. Water sloshes over the sidewalks and laps at the half-destroyed bridge they're on. It makes Lena dizzy with fear, her head feeling cloudy as she wonders how this day could have gone so wrong.

"Get the civilians safe and try to minimize any damage," she orders in a slightly wavering voice. "Go!"

She soars off, distantly aware of Graham slipping into a tiny shadow produced by a column of the bridge and Peter climbing to the top of the structure. Even if they can't actively fight this thing, they can sure as hell do their best to help in any other way they can.

Lena keeps herself busy with using streams of energy to keep chunks of debris from falling on top of crowds or waves from knocking people off of their feet. As she flies through the canals, her mind screams at her, refusing to allow her to forget where she is. One fall, and she's done for. One mistake–

Finally, she escapes from the canals and is gifted with the wonderful security of concrete beneath her. It makes her breath release from her mouth in a grateful sigh as she holds a wave back from crashing into a mother and her child.

Then she sees a familiar swish of black hair and feels her heart drop. Cindy.

In fact, she notices her school group – excluding Betty, Ned, and MJ – huddled beneath an awning for a gift shop. She glances to her left. Cape Guy is leading Water Man through the streets now, probably trying to keep him away from his most powerful point at the canals. However, that means that her friends are in its direct line of fire.

Lena plummets to the ground and blankets her landing with a cushion of energy. As she walks briskly toward them, Mr. Dell releases a scream of genuine fear. "It's the witch!"

She doesn't have time to realize her victory over Peter that yes, Mr. Dell does think Havoc is a witch. She merely deepens her voice and yells over the sound of destruction headed their way, "Hold on!"

Lena encases them in a bubble and uses a burst of energy to transport them away from Water Guy's line of fire. Mr. Dell screams his head off the entire time, while Brad grabs Cindy to make sure she doesn't fall from her lack of balance. She takes them a block away before releasing them.

"Uh, T-Thank you," Mr. Harrington says with an awkward tip of his newsboy cap.

"Just stay out of that thing's sight!" she advises, turning around and rising back into the air to see what else can be done.

Most of the destruction is beyond her control now. She doesn't have repairing abilities and her energy can only take things apart, not mend them. St. Mark's Square is surrounded by half-destroyed buildings. That seems to be where Cape Guy and the Water Man are having their stand-off. The place where Lena and Peter had been barely twenty minutes ago is on the verge of being ruined. Water floods the area nearly completely, a nearby clock tower nearly snapped in half and falling straight toward the square.

Lena flies toward the tower and surrounds it with a bubble, hoping to hold it upright at least until Water Man is defeated. There's nothing she can do to stop its inevitable collapse. Gravity is already taking its toll, causing the brown stone to shift and slide. However...

She's about to use a gust of energy to put the tower to the left, making it fall toward the water instead of the street, when she notices a boy in a blue mask stumbling around where the bell is near the top. Her stomach turns. That's Peter, and if he hadn't shown himself at that exact moment, then she would have—

There's no time to think of the woulds of the situation. Lena holds the clock tower with a single arm, using the other to form a shield around Peter and carry him safely to the ground. Her left arm shakes violently with the strain it takes to overcome such an insistent natural force as gravity. Her eyes sweep the canal to make sure there aren't any people in harm's way. The coast seems to be clear.

As soon as Peter's feet touch the sidewalk far away from the tower, she releases her concentration with a gasp and causes the structure to immediately fall with a rumble that makes her wince. She lowers her aching arm from the air and starts to gently float back toward the ground. Her heart is still thundering in her chest, making her feel sick and lightheaded from the fear of falling into the canal below. The sensations cause her to stumble when she lands.

Peter is there in an instant. He holds her upright with an arm around her shoulders and another around her waist, scanning her for injuries. His still-damp fingers brush the blonde strands of her wig out of her face. She's only half-aware of the fact that his wet clothes are seeping water and coldness into her suit.

"You... look.... so stupid," she gasps, reaching up with her right arm to yank the mask off of his face. She tosses it aside and stumbles again.

"Hey, hey, you did great," Peter says gently, sliding his hand under her chin and stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You're fine."

She doesn't feel fine. Her entire body is shaking— half from strain, half from the mind-numbing terror she still feels coursing through her veins.

Lena's hand doesn't feel attached to her body as she reaches up and presses the button at the center of her chest, causing her suit to retract back into the metal. She yanks off the wig and mask like she can't get them off fast enough.

There's a pause as Lena shakes her bangs out. Peter swallows, drawing her attention to him from the movement. "Uh, your eyes are still glowing."

Lena shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut to rid them of their bright blue color. Popping them open once again, she meets his eyes to see if they're back to normal. He gives her a nod of confirmation.

Then she remembers something and groans. Pressing a hand to her earpiece, she says, "Graham, come in."

"What's up?" he replies instantly. "You okay?"

"Fine," she answers with a cringe. "I left my bag in an alleyway next to a restaurant called Rio Novo. It's under a cardboard box. Could you grab it for me?"

"Sure." There's a scuffle on the other end. "Where's Peter? Is he okay, too?"

"He's fine. We're both near St. Mark's Square." She pauses, noticing that it's basically silent for once. "I think the thing is dead."

"Cool," Graham says. "I'll be over in a minute."

Lena drops her hand from her earpiece with a huff, thankful for the Cape Guy. If he hadn't been there, they wouldn't have been able to stop it. She's actually grateful that she hadn't had to do much work this time.

Peter swears and fishes around in his pocket. He pulls out the polaroid they had taken, only now, it's completely ruined. Water had soaked it, causing the ink to run down their faces and make it look more like colorful swirls.

"We can take another one," Lena offers as she tightens her grip around his shoulders. "Just not right now, obviously. Or you could have mine. Oh, by the way— I was right and Mr. Dell does think Havoc is a witch."

Peter raises an eyebrow at her switch of topics. She barely sees him, though, because she catches sight of Cape Guy soaring off into the unknown with a cloud of green smoke trailing after him.

Lena has no idea who he is or where he'd come from. If he'd been an Avenger, she would have remembered him from the Compound Battle against Thanos.

One thing is for sure— there's a new player in the game. And Lena couldn't be more glad.

__________

a/n:

graham when max has the pigeon:

i feel like this is the world's shittiest chapter ever, but it was really fun to write– especially the beginning half with the kids all being goofballs and peter and lena's adventure to the museum! i love them so much it physically hurts me.

if you guys follow my wattpad pinterest, you may have noticed that i've saved pictures of museums to the "aftermath" section of my board for havoc. this is why!! i've been wanting to write a chapter like this since i learned that the movie would take place in europe.

have you guys seen the blooper reel? i swear i laugh every time i watch it because tom and jake are such dorks. i could also picture hailee/mira and jacob/max doing stupid stuff together

here's a question for y'all: max or owen seager? personally i love writing max's chaotic personality but also love how owen balances him out

–kristyn