In honor of 500K reads, I've decided to write some scenes that truly are deleted, because they're important and should have been there, but there was no place for them in the narrative; not to mention, I wrote this story when I was fifteen.

This scene is when Diana and Peter discuss the tracker and the reason for their breakup, something people have been demanding answers to for quite some time. I did this partly out of spite, because this was all written in subtext, but I'm willing to help ya'll out, I read your comments.

So thank you for 500K reads and welcome back.

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DELETED SCENE #5
ABOUT THE TRACKER

After their trip upstate, they talked about the tracker. Diana knew they were going to have to talk about it eventually, and she still hadn't read the text messages he had sent her during the fateful night when she admitted to him what she had done, because she knew, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't right.

But in her defense, Peter wouldn't have told her if he had gotten hurt, and for all that she was at one of the lowest points in terms of her mental health, she worried about him. So, yes, she hadn't taken the best course of action, but she was young and communication was never a strong suit in any teenager, something that Nicky insisted they address once things started calming down.

They didn't talk during the drive down, the two staring out their respective windows, their hands touching on the seat between them, headphones crooning their own music; she started searching for happier songs, and Peter was more than happy to give her some recommendations, though he texted them to her, as they both knew that they weren't in the right space to talk.

Happy had glanced at them through the mirror constantly, but only received neutral expressions in return, so he decided not to open his mouth either, but he was more than fine with the silence, if not at least a little off-put.

They didn't talk right away, however, as Peter needed to get home before his aunt got home, and Diana wanted to spend time with her family who promised to talk to her now about their relationship with her overseas family, Flash texting her and letting her know that he and Danny were still talking on their own, which was shocking to say the least.

But the next afternoon, after school, Peter was waiting for her by her locker, knowing that she always waited well after everyone else before she left the classroom; she never packed up when everyone else did, which was frustrating when she needed to get out fast, but she was always shocked back to reality by the bell.

As difficult as it was to say, Diana was avoiding him. She had suggested to her friends that they should try sitting outside, and she used her depression as a reason, saying that she needed more sun, and while that was the case and Nicky had been pestering her about it, that wasn't the whole reason; she didn't want Peter to come up to her and ask her to talk.

She had texted Nicky about it the night before, and their conversation was enlightening, but difficult to hear. But Diana knew she wasn't going to like everything Nicky said to her, so as much as she wanted to block out everything, she listened.

to: Nicky (11:25 pm)
I really don't want to talk
to Peter about the tracker

from: Nicky (11:26 pm)
Why don't you want to?

to: Nicky (11:26 pm)
Because! What I did wasn't
okay you know? Like I get
that now but at the time I
just worried about him

Writing it out, she saw how ridiculous it was. She cared about him so she tracked him. But Tony Stark did the exact same thing, she definitively knew, Nicky had even confirmed it for her himself, so it wasn't as if what he did was any better.

Of course, that didn't excuse her actions, but it gave her some leverage to try and reason away the guilt that was eating at her. It was all too gray for her to see, like she was in a dark room being asked to point out a white paper from a black one, everything was far too blurred.

from: Nicky (11:26 pm)
Then tell him that. I explained
part of your story to him already
so all you need to do is explain

to: Nicky (11:26 pm)
He isn't gonna to be okay with
it. He's going to hate me or
think I'm crazy and I don't
need that I mean things are just
getting better

She could feel herself beginning to panic as she thought of all the ways it could go; or, more specifically, all the ways it could go wrong. She heard Peter yelling, saw his expression, twisted into outrage or disgust or shock or a worse combination of all three, heard his voice crack as he tried not to cry, because her boyfriend was a bit of a crybaby and she wished she didn't have to be so acquainted with his unfortunate habit.

She didn't want to have to be on the receiving end of his pain. She didn't want to see all the pain she had caused him. She didn't need to see that. But she knew, if she talked to Peter, she was going to.

from: Nicky (11:27 pm)
You do this a lot, jumping to
conclusions. And I don't blame
you, your life is built off
precedent. You know people
pity you, so you hide yourself,
you don't trust anyone with
alcohol because you've seen
it's effects, it's natural.

from: Nicky (11:28 pm)
But Diana you're not a psychic.
You don't truly know, and I get
it's scary to communicate
because no one likes having to
address something shameful or
bad or simply being put in a
situation where the power is all
on the other person, but you need
to be able to allow yourself to accept
these things and work with them
rather than shut down

She knew that he was right. For all Nicky was funny and strange and young, he was successful for a reason, he was much more mature that he even gave himself credit for at times, he knew what he was talking about. But that was also one of her biggest problems about him, because he was often much too right when it came to her.

It was like being put under a microscope and having a man pick her apart to the bare bones, to the point where she was still just as clueless about herself, but someone else knew why she liked to hold her fork like a spear instead of the way everyone else did.

No one liked hearing negative aspects about themselves, especially when it came from someone who had more authority to their facts than she herself did; she was a teenager with personal biases, he was a professional who was doing his job, and she both loved and hated that he did it well.

to: Nicky (11:29 pm)
But I hate these so much I hate
people just yelling at me and
talking to me and demanding
answers it's overwhelming and I
can't think or breathe

She was almost certain she wasn't breathing now, because the thought of being confronted was as terrifying as being confronted in the actual moment, because there was no getting away from her thoughts. She could disassociate from the situation, but the thoughts were ever present, and then there was this man who was telling her what she's like and that, while she's justified, she's not completely rational.

from: Nicky (11:29 pm)
But you're allowed to take your time.
In the states and especially in NY we
act like we need to do everything fast
but we don't. In other countries, it's
more respected to take your time and
think, as it should be. Just breathe
and let yourself think. The other person
will have no choice but to do the same
and things will work out

from: Nicky (11:30 pm)
You can have power, you just need
to let yourself have it. It won't always
be handed to you, you need to give
it to yourself.

That had been the end of the conversation. Nicky just told her to think it over and get some rest, and all she could do was set her phone aside, just barely remembering to send streaks and plug it in before staying up for two more hours, finally succumbing to exhaustion, falling into a fitful, restless sleep.

The next day had been tense and she had tried not to act on edge, because things were finally looking up and she didn't need the others wondering if there was anything to worry about, but then there was Peter waiting for her at her locker, shifting around as people walked down the halls or tried to get into the surrounding lockers.

But by the time she finally found it within herself to approach him, there were only a few people in the halls, and they were the ones that kept to themselves and were so absorbed in their own conversations that they wouldn't have minded if someone played a tuba right then and there, so they were, essentially, alone.

"Hi," she whispered softly, reaching out towards her lock, and Peter shifted to the side to let her through, leaning against the other lockers, just watching her, "How was your day? I heard Spider-Man got back on the streets, I'm glad you got your suit back."

Peter grinned, nodding eagerly. "Yeah! No, it was great, but then May she—actually, can we talk about that later, that's not what I wanted to talk about right now. I mean, I did just want to say hi, but that wasn't all I wanted to say, you know?"

"Yeah," she said, feeling her heart begin to race and vision start to go blurry, but then Nicky was in her head, reminding her to breathe, so she did, taking a few calming breaths as she closed her locker before sighing, "What do you want to talk about?"

It was easier to let him lead the conversation, at least for the time being; the last time that she took over, she wound up admitting more than she had been planning, so she was more than happy to let him steer the conversation, she could control it easier from the backseat.

"Were you avoiding me today?" he asked, and she couldn't help but wince at the question, which caused him to add, "I mean, it's not like you have to talk to me every day or anything like that, but something just felt off, and I wanted to know if I did anything wrong."

"No," she whispered, and she just wanted this to be over with, and if he wasn't going to bring it up, she was just going to have to; so much for letting him steer the conversation.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said, moving forward to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her immediately, and she wished it wasn't as nice as it was, "I did, though."

Peter hummed in question, and she shook her head, asking for just a few moments of silence and nice before she had to try and climb out of the hole she dug herself into.

"I was avoiding you today," she admitted, because there was no use lying at this point.

"Why?" Peter asked, because it seemed that this conversation was going to be as painful as possible.

Diana groaned, not wanting to have to say, but he had waited for her by her locker, and he was shirking the responsibilities he had beyond her, so the least she could do was be cooperative when it came to the truth that she was willingly offering to him.

"The tracker," she finally conceded, hiding her face in his shirt, "We're gonna have to talk about it eventually, but I don't want to."

"Well, we don't have to if you don't want to," Peter said, because he was better than she ever deserved, and she shook her head as he spoke, not wanting to even hear him try and let her off the hook.

"That's not fair to you, Peter, and you know it," she said, and he opened his mouth to argue, but even he had to admit that it wouldn't be fair to him if he just let them go on without talking about it.

"Let's walk," he said, shifting and taking her hand, and she adjusted her backpack before walking alongside him.

The two made their way out of the school without any fuss or distraction, Flash having texted her that she was going to need to find her own ride home since he was going to spend time with his non-school friends while Harry and Gwen were off to Oscorp.

The two walked without any clear destination, just going along the sidewalk hand in hand, which wasn't the best course of action considering how busy it was, but the two were fairly small and were more than comfortable with their arms touching for long periods of time, so there wasn't much to worry about there.

"So why did you do it?" Peter asked, after it was clear that she wasn't going to keep initiating the conversation.

Diana took a few deep breaths, not wanting to speak too soon and ruin the entire thing, trying to find the words, only to find that her mind was empty, playing nothing but the white noise from Coney Island.

She reminded herself to ask Peter if he was alright, that night had given him one too many close-calls and the last thing either of them needed was him dealing with the trauma of that on his own, and she didn't know if he would even talk to her about it if she didn't ask.

There was something very familiar about this train of thought.

"I didn't think you would tell me or come over if you got hurt, and I just wanted to make sure that, if you did, I could at least call Nicky to call you so that you wouldn't bleed to death because you didn't want to talk to me," she explained, and she could have explained it with more specificity behind it, but once she started it all came out, and there wasn't any flair or narrative, it was the facts laid out, a little less than needed, but some form of a gist.

Peter didn't talk for a while. They made it two blocks before he finally decided to speak, and even when he did, it took him a few tries before he was actually able to get any sound out, his mouth just opening and closing like a fish, eyes just as wide.

"You know why I wasn't talking to you, though, right?" he asked, and she shrugged, running a hand through her hair.

"I only vaguely understand why we broke up in the first place," she offered, and that wasn't entirely true, she and Nicky had gone over it so many times she was positive of the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"I mean, it made sense at the time," Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck, and that seemed to be the motto of all the decisions they had made for the past few months.

"I was busy being Spider-Man and we weren't talking as much, and I got worried that you didn't want to be my girlfriend anymore, and if you didn't want to, I wasn't going to keep trying, because I wanted to focus on being Spider-Man. And it made me sad being around you because I thought you didn't like me. It hurt," he continued, and it made sense, especially at the time, because he was right.

She had just expected him to stay stagnant while she was gone, but he wasn't, he had other things on his mind, he wanted to do other things, and it wasn't fair for her to try and hold him back or string him along; she hadn't meant to, but there was enough reason as to why he felt that way.

"I also didn't want you to feel like you had to keep dating someone who made you unhappy, that wouldn't be fair for either of us," Peter added, because she hadn't spoken and he had a tendency to panic.

Diana licked her lips, nodding to herself as she tried to find a way to summarize everything he said in the hopes that she was right. "So you broke up with me because, at the time, you thought that we would be better off not together because it was clear we had to focus on other things."

Peter nodded earnestly. "Yeah! Diana, I didn't want to break up with you, I still—well, I don't know if I really loved you, but I really, really liked you. But it just wasn't a good time."

Once again, Nicky was right. Nicky was right about everything and Diana was left floundering, because if they just talked about it, they could have avoided this entirely. But, as Nicky constantly reminded her, she was young and no one expected her to have the right answers and know what to do in every situation. Adults didn't know how to do that, children weren't expected to even think about having to.

But it wasn't a stretch to say that Diana and Peter were forced to grow up fast.

As Diana mulled over the affirmation of her long held understanding, Peter decided to keep talking, because, l like Nicky had told her, people from the West had trouble with silence, always needing to fill it, and whomever was most comfortable in a long pause to think had all the power in the conversation.

Not that Diana needed to have control over anyone. But it was nice to know she wasn't completely helpless to the barrage of verbal abuse that hadn't actually come. It seemed that Nicky was right about that too.

"I never understood those relationships in movies where neither of them are happy and they really don't want to make it work, but they do because one person just doesn't want the other person to be with anyone else, I'd rather you be happy with someone else than unhappy and with me," Peter said, shoving his hands into his pockets to refrain from messing up his hair any more than he had, though his hand immediately came back up to run through his hair then rub at the back of his neck.

"But even when they're in that situation, those people can still make it work," she countered, glad to have something specific to address, "Love is more than just feeling good in the moment. It's about being willing to stick around even when you're tired and want to leave, because if you didn't love them, you wouldn't try to make things work, to challenge them to be the best person they can be and let them change you."

Peter licked his lips, laughing softly as he ducked his head. "I guess we really don't know what love is. Or me, at least, it sounds like you got it figured out."

"Nicky told me that, I'm as clueless as you are," she scoffed, and the two shared a laugh, Peter reaching out to lock pinkies with her.

For the first time in the longest time, Diana felt her age. She felt like a sophomore in high school walking with her boyfriend. There wasn't this feeling of being older, a feeling thrust upon her. There wasn't a fear to take care of someone else when she was still drowning; though she was just starting to swim back to shore. She was comfortable and okay, she was just fine.

"You should've told me about the tracker," Peter said, and Diana felt her stomach churn at his words, nodding along as he added, "I wouldn't have gotten mad. And I'm not mad now. I mean, I was pretty mad when you first told me, but you meant well. Doesn't really change anything, but it's nicer to hear than you were doing it to blackmail me or something."

Diana didn't respond at first, waiting for him to be finished, because she could see there was more, and as much as she wanted this to be over, she owed it to him to let him say it all.

"But that was a serious invasion of privacy and I don't want you to do it again," he finally declared, and while she winced, she nodded, letting him finish, "You should've talked to me or asked. Maybe I wouldn't have told you, but you should've just kept trying, and you didn't even do that. Even if the tracker was the best choice, you should've told me about it. That wasn't fair of you to listen in on me. I mean, I understand and in the end it wound up being great, and I get it. I really do, and Mr. Stark put a tracker on me too and he recorded everything and archived it, so you both did the same thing, but you both should've told me."

As much as it hurt to hear, she was glad to. Because she knew, and she knew she hurt him, but at least he said it, and they were on the same ground, they were talking about it; now that they were talking, they could actually move past it.

"I'm sorry, Peter," she mumbled, looking down at her shoes, "Communicating has never really been something I've been able to do."

"Yeah, me neither, but you've figured that out by now," he said, because he was a kid just like her, and kids meant well, but made mistakes, but that didn't mean they couldn't grow from them and do better; Spider-Man knew that better than anyone.

"From now on, we talk to each other," she said, shaking his arm after a few minutes of silence, "Communication is key to any relationship, and I really want this to work out."

Peter smiled, moving them towards the side to get away from the traffic, smiling softly before leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. Nothing major, nothing heavy, just a simple kiss. But it was more than good enough for them.

"I want to do something," she sighed, looking down both ends of the street they were on, "I don't want to go home just yet, I want to keep hanging out. Do you have stuff you need to do?"

Peter shrugged, only to wince. "I'm still a little sore from this weekend, so I'm gonna take one more day before I start going back to Spidey stuff. Also, May found out."

She gasped, her eyes wide as she startled, feeling as terrified for Peter as he probably had felt when he was caught. "What happened?"

Peter took a deep breath, sighing as he shrugged. "I mean, I'm not grounded. There was a lot of yelling and crying. But she's not stopping me, she couldn't, you know, it's too important. But we're gonna talk when I get home, she told me this morning. So I'm not really ready to head home just yet."

Diana reached out to squeeze his arm; she knew what it was like to not want to go home, and she was certainly well-versed in the art of avoiding any and all confrontation, so empathizing was one of her only strengths at the moment.

"Do you want to go to the science museum?" she asked, tilting her head to smile at him, "Maybe they put Pluto back."

Peter snorted, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, and Diana was just grinning up at him, because it had been so long since Pluto, she could hardly remember the last time it had been mentioned.

"Oh yeah," Peter said, reaching into one of the pockets of his bag, "I accidentally broke it, but I fixed it again. I mean, it's still inaccurate, but it looks just the same."

Diana gasped as Peter held out a familiar looking necklace with nine colored spheres dangling from the links, his eyes dancing with mirth as it hung from his hand, searching her face for a reaction, and whatever he found seemed to make him happy, a breath of a laugh slipping past his lips.

Diana's smile was almost painful, but her joy at the sight of the necklace was numbed by the stab at her heart at the memory of what had happened, and it felt like it had been years since that night, and the wound were threatening to tear back open.

"Can I have it?" she asked, because it was a present from Peter, and she hadn't given it to him, she had given it back, and she had no right at all to take it from him.

Peter grinned, moving it closer to her, raising his eyebrows. "I didn't just take it out so you could look at it, and I'm not gonna wear it."

"How'd you get Pluto back, you gave it to me," she asked, still remembering the feel of the smallest sphere falling into the center of her palm, heavier than anything else she'd held before.

"I stole it from your room that morning," he explained, and he decided not to tell her the other Pluto-themed item he had stolen, finding it rolled up and untouched in some time, figuring that it would be a nice surprise for later on.

She scoffed, but took it from him with a bright smile, raising the chain up and around her neck, her eyebrows furrowing as she struggled to hook the clasp together, sighing when Peter laughed, sliding around her and taking it from her, closing it in seconds.

"Show off," she grumbled, but she was smiling, and it had been so long, but then they were smiling at each other, and it just felt right.

Reaching out towards his hand, she took it in hers, tugging him back into the foot traffic and towards the nearest train station. His hands were still soft, but rather calloused from all his fighting and tinkering, and the drag felt nice against her own hands, still nimble and practiced if he ever needed to be patched up again.

She had a feeling he wouldn't need to be, not with the new suit. But she was fine with that. Things changed, people changed, and that was fine.

She raised her hand up towards her necklace with a familiarity she hadn't felt in such a long time, glancing over to Peter as she ran her thumb over Pluto, smiling as he rolled his eyes with a fondness he hadn't directed towards her in some time, but it felt so right and so familiar, and she'd like to keep it that way.

Things always changed, but some things stayed familiar. That was more than okay too.