The guy I had elbowed earlier fell back with a cry as webbing covered his eyes, the man desperately trying to tug it off. The other two shoved me away, causing me to clip my head on the metal ladder. Pain flared and I winced. Meanwhile New York's very own Spiderman leaped down gracefully in his suit and hit the first guy in the jaw with his fist. The second pulled out a blade as soon as the wall crawler's back was turned and made a move to stab the young hero. I nearly called out, but he didn't seem to need it. At the last second, the he jerked away enough to avoid the sharp edge. He turned angrily and webbed the man to the wall. 

The last guy had managed to get the webs out of his eyes and growled at Spiderman. After reaching into his jacket pocket, his hand came out with a small gun. He readied it and pulled the trigger before the vigilante had time to react. They both seemed surprised when the bullet stopped an inch away from him. I let the bullet drop to the ground before grabbing the man magically and slamming him against the wall. He was obviously knocked out.

I slumped against the dumpster at my side and held my head with one hand. I wasn't sure if it was bleeding or not, but my vision was going hazy. Shit.

"Wanda?" Peter asked, reaching out to steady her.

Of course he could recognize me and my powers. Tony let him stop by whenever he wanted and he wanted to a lot. I didn't really mind. He was like my little brother. Practically already part of the team. I knew Tony enjoyed having him over too. The Avengers and I had trained with him and he ate almost five boxes of pizza last time. It was strange to see. 

"Hello Peter," I managed before my legs gave out and I fell against the wall, pulling him down beside me.

"Oh crap, you're not okay," he realized. "Karen, call–"

"Please don't," my voice broke. "Don't call Tony or Steve or anyone. Please. They-they can't know where I am."

He froze, not knowing what to do. I just hoped he trusted me enough to listen. I didn't have the heart to mess with his mind. Or any of my friends, of course, but Peter was different. He was only a year younger then me at 16 and already being a hero. I could never do anything to a great kid like him. So thankfully he caved.

"Okay, okay," he lifted me up easily, bridal style. I wrapped an arm around his neck to steady myself. "I'll take you to my place. My aunt knows some first aid."

Thank god he knew not to take me to a hospital. He had probably been watching the news and heard all about Ross' decree and the new laws. Peter was a 'super-powered freak' too, after all, so those laws would apply to him as well. Not that he was planning to follow them, obviously.

My eyes started to droop. My head was throbbing in pain, making me groan. Peter looked down worriedly and sprinted up the wall and across the rooftop, leaping over the next alleyway.

"Only a few more blocks," he murmured under his breath. I couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure me or himself.

Either way I did not last much longer after that. My eyelids got too heavy for my weak body to keep open. Darkness closed in the edge of my vision. I was sure I could feel something dripping down my face and it was not tears. The last thing I heard was Peter shouting  before I succumbed to the black.

~   ~   ~

"Aunt May!" The woman heard from the kitchen and almost dropped the plate she had been putting away. Her nephew never came home at eleven. She would know, she was normally up a good thirty minutes after that time after finding out about his activities a few months ago. Something was wrong.

"Peter?" She rushes into the living room to see the boy drop awkwardly through the open window with a girl in his arms.

Blood covered the left side of her face and she was pale by the time he had gotten there. Peter set her on the couch and told his aunt to get the kit. He had come home often with minor scrapes and bruises all over and May would leave it out for him to patch himself up whenever he got back, usually around two o'clock. She had found his meager supplies and bought the new one. 

Peter adjusted Wanda's head so the wound was facing up and covered it with a bunched up blanket, applying a bit of pressure. He had a feeling the blood was making look worse then it actually was. Head wounds tended to bleed a lot. He didn't think it was just the bleeding that had made her pass out. She looked exhausted. Like he did after staying up patroling too late for too many days in a row. Was she even getting sleep? Peter doubted it.

Why hadn't she let him call for help? Did the Avengers agree with the news so she had to get away? Peter also didn't believe that. They were like a family. A big, messed up, diverse family with super powers, but a family all the same. They would definitely sooner help then harm Wanda.

May came back into the room with a bowl of warm water, a wash cloth and the medic kit. She knelt beside Peter and started to wash the blood off of the girl's head gently. It was still bleeding a bit, but the blanket had helped slow it down.

"So," Peter's Aunt started. "Why is the girl here and not at the hospital?"

"I couldn't take her anywhere else," he said defensively. "She's Scarlet Witch, you know, from the news."

"An Avenger friend wanted by the whole country?" She didn't look up as she let out a sigh. "Is she going to be staying long?"

"Uh," the young hero hadn't really considered it. "However long she needs, I guess."

"Is Mr. Stark on his way yet?" She wondered out loud, dipping the cloth on the water and leaving it on her head.

"Well, no," he admitted. "She asked me not to let them know she was here."

May stopped and looked at him. "Peter, this is a mess. Why is she avoiding her team? What if she's done something bad?"

"She's not like that," he said firmly.

"How well do you really know her?"

Peter's expression hardened. She was like his older sister. He didn't know a lot about her past, but he did know that he trusted her. "She isn't like that."

~   ~   ~

I woke to sunlight bearing down on me, making me see orange as I struggled to open my eyes. Had I fallen asleep in an alley? Well that's just gr–

The memory of Peter's masked face and the three men hit me like a truck. I literally gasped at the impact. Where has he taken me? Oh no am I back at the compound? They're going to be furious and turn me over for being such a nuisance. Or not and they'll just be in danger again. Then I remembered the last thing Peter told me. His apartment. His aunt.

I bolted into sitting position, making my head swim. That in turn made me groan and hold my head. Which in turn caught the attention of the middle aged woman in the other room.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she soothed, coming up beside me. "Don't worry you're safe here Wanda."

I looked at the woman suspiciously. I opened my mouth to say something, but then felt the bandage on the side of my head. My eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, you hit your head pretty hard last night," she sat on the couch next to me.

"What happened?" I spoke for the first time.

"Well," she started while unwrapping the gauze.  "Peter heard a scream and found you after taking down those muggers. You hit your head on a metal something and started bleeding but wouldn't let him call your team. So he took you here and you passed out a few seconds before he got inside. I helped treat the wound while Peter went to get what was left of your backpack."

She pointed at my unzipped bag that had nothing more than my toothbrush, a pair of leggings and my red jacket. I groaned in annoyance. Of course some homeless guy probably got to it. Ugh.

"My name is May, by the way," she finished getting the gauze and furrowed her brows.

"You certainly don't have Peter's fast healing," she commented. "But I think a bandaid or two will be fine. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe if you got some sleep," –she gave me a pointed look– "You wouldn't be passing out from such light hits. It's like your body was looking for an excuse to get some rest."

I smiled weakly at her. "Yes, right."

I looked around as she went to go get bandaids, finding myself in a small living room with a small TV and cheap furniture. After living in Stark's billion dollar compound, it was a new experience. More homely, I guessed, but the closed space began to remind me of my cell. I closed my eyes and pushed back my claustrophobia. Now was not the time. I had to get out of there. Either way I was wasting Ms. Parker's time. And putting her in danger. I would be such a horrible person if I stayed.

When she came back in to see me one my feet, closing my backpack and replacing my bloody jacket with my other one, she shook her head.

"Stop," she commanded. I gave her a confused expression. Didn't she want me to leave?

"You almost died from exhaustion last night. You can stay here for however long you need to get better."

"I'm fine," I try to reassure her and throw my backpack over my shoulder.

She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. "No you're not. I'm Spiderman's aunt. I know when someone says that it means the opposite."

I sigh through my nose at her persistence. "Regardless, I have to go."

"Why? Where are you going?"

I decide to ignore the questions because I myself have no answer for them. Instead I ask, "Where's Peter?"

"At school. Like a kid your age should be," she mumbled the last part. I winced. I had always wanted to go to school, but being a mutant freak got in the way of being a high school junior.

"Well tell him I said thanks. For saving me," I clarify and move towards the door. "And thank you for taking care of my head."

"Wait," she stepped in front of me. Wow, she was taller then I thought. "At least let me get you some food to take. And some clothes. If you insist on going alone, I want to help in any way I can."

I smile and nod. She gives me a lot of different canned foods and meals. "Don't know how long you'll be looking for whatever it is you need," she claimed and stuffed my bag. I wrote a note for Peter, thanking him and asking him to deliver some other envelopes to the Avengers. May promised to get the letter to him. I made a move to leave and she surprised me by hugging me tightly and making me promise I'd call her if I needed help in Queens. I smiled thinking, if this is the person who raised Peter, no wonder he turned out so well.

I stepped into the hallway and my smile immediately melted.  A prickling feeling traveled up my neck and I shivered. I had a bad feeling about whatever was to come.