Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

She's sprinting.

Her breaths come out in short bursts, ribs aching and more than likely already bruised from her late night activities. A light sheen of sweat has started to form on her forehead that she hastily wipes away as she skids to a stop in the doorway of the office building. Glancing down at her phone, she quietly curses under her breath. Ten minutes late. That was a lifetime here.

Ava looks back up, greeting the receptionist with a forced smile because she likes making the effort anyway. The elevator seems to be going infinitely slower on purpose, but the ding is a welcome sound as she speed walks to the conference room. Everyone else is here already, discussing new bits and sketches with ease. She feels immediately behind.

Some greet her and others are too absorbed in their own thoughts to notice her, which she's perfectly content with. Staying under the radar was always her top priority. Well, maybe not always. At least for the past five years, not counting the two years beforehand when she had just moved to New York and gave college a try. But she has only been a writer for Late Night with Deborah Vance for one year.

Of course, the woman herself has to be here already, glancing at Ava sideways as she bursts into the room a little too loudly. "Glad you could finally join us."

Ava swallows hard, ignoring the burning stares of dozens of people. She musters up another smile, "So sorry. Traffic was crazy." She pitches her voice too highly the last word, awkwardly staring at her literal boss like a terrified animal. She genuinely worries about being suddenly attacked for a half second.

Then, Deborah Vance finally looks away with a hmph sort of sound that makes Ava wonder if this might be her last day on the job.

Someone else makes a funny throwaway comment to ease the sudden tension and she laughs, hiding her wince of pain as she plops down onto an empty chair., shifting uncomfortably. There had been a string of petty thefts and muggings during the night that got her into enough tussles that her advanced healing was still doing heavy lifting for.

And yet, Ava carries on like she's not running on three cups of coffee because caffeine does very little for her in general. Once the initial team meeting is over, they split to go to their desks. It finally gives her the time to turn in a few late pages of sketches and get started on new material.

When lunch rolls around, she takes the chance to go to this new cafe that just opened a few blocks from the building. Thank god for being allowed to eat away from her desk.

She hardly has the time to take a bite out of her sandwich and no sip of her drink before her phone's buzzing. She had jail broken it years ago to get police scanner and radio notifications that were not available to the public.

Apparently, there's some kind of disturbance happening further downtown.

Ava closes her eyes, I could just ignore it for once and let the police do their jobs, she thinks to herself. It lasts for all of five seconds before she stands with a sigh, tucking her barely eaten lunch into her backpack. She had gone into this mostly because the police never did their jobs. At least, not correctly.

One day she'll allow herself selfishness. But that day was not today. And her lunch was ending in half an hour, so she needed to get this over with quickly.

Carefully, Ava finds an empty alleyway and quickly scales it. She makes it to the roof of some apartment building. No one else seemed to be up here, so she swiftly takes off her clothes and reveals her spidey suit underneath. Usually, she kept them separately, but it had been too close of a call this morning to take the time to fully change without being more than ten minutes late, so she had to wear it as such.

With another sigh, she places the mask over her face. This was the newest version, others having been ripped apart enough times that Ava said fuck it and designed a completely new suit. Sewed it and everything. All the material had been expensive as hell, but she hoped it was worth it.

Now to see how long it would last.

Ava tucks her backpack away behind some air conditioning unit on the roof before taking a running start and jumping off the building. The wind whips against her mask, she lets herself fall for as long as she can before quickly shooting a web out of her wrist and swinging toward the scene of the crime. This was a job for Spider-Man.

The name had caught on back when she was still figuring out this whole vigilante thing, mostly because people were sexist and assumed this person fighting crime must be a dude. So, Ava took it in stride, embracing it without corrections. Plus, it made it easier to keep her identity a secret. Anyone who tried finding it would be looking into the wrong gender. But honestly, that shit wasn't even real. So.

By the time she makes it downtown, she's met with police sirens blaring and caution tape already up. It's…concerning. More than when she thought this was just going to be another purse stolen or deli held up. She slows her swings, sticking to the side of the closest building to the chaos. Her spidey senses are tingling, a low buzz on her skin as she leans in, trying to listen closely.

There's a couple of officers near their car and another few near the caution tape, which now that she can take a closer look, is surrounding a white tarp. Something was being covered up on the ground. Something that looks suspiciously like—

"Oh, shit," Ava whispers to herself, "That's a body."

Her blood runs cold as she focuses in further. One of the officers, an older man, says, "So no one saw anything? It was just like this?"

A younger officer nods, "Yes, sir. Officer Smith got a call that someone heard some disturbing noises and arrived to find them already deceased."

"The caller?"

Another nod.

Well, this was new. Ava furrowed her brows. She tries to keep listening, but no one else seems to have anything helpful at the moment. More questions pop up than answers and the police weren't going to be leaving the area anytime soon, so she had no chance to snoop around. From a distance, she narrows in a few blood splatters around the white tarp, also marked off with tape. But nothing else of interest.

It had been a very violent act, that seemed for certain.

She leaps back into the air, swinging back to the apartment roof. The buzz in her skin sticks to her the whole way back. Something had rubbed her the wrong way of that whole scene. How had a simple disturbance turned into a murder so fast? Logically, she knew it was possible, but it seemed odd. Midday on a random Tuesday.

She stops a few more crimes on the way back, helps an elderly man cross the road safely, and poses for some teenage kids photo before finding her backpack. She quickly changes back into her regular clothes and returns to work.

Of course, she's ten minutes late again.

_____

Home is a welcome distraction from the exhaustion of the day. She, thankfully, didn't get scolded again by anyone for being a little late on the way back from her impromptu investigation during lunch. She could usually coast under everyone's radar, today had just been a slip up in letting Deborah Vance herself notice she wasn't where she was supposed to be.

She hardly has time to set her bag down and sit on the couch of her little studio apartment before her phone rings. A call. Not a police notification.

It's Jimmy. Which might as well be a police notification. She answers it as she kicks off her boots and slides horizontally across the couch to fully lay down. At least her ribs were feeling back to normal now. "Hello?"

"Hey, how's my favorite girl doing?"

"Don't let Kayla hear you say that."

Jimmy scoffs over the line, "I'm at home. She's not—oh my god!" He yells suddenly, and there's some shuffling on his end.

Ava raises an eyebrow, "You good, dude?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," Jimmy quickly says, he seems to try to cover the speaker but Ava can still hear him say, "What the hell are you doing here? I told you that last time was going to be the last!" His voice goes up an octave at that last word.

Ava stifles a smile as she finally overhears Kayla's voice arguing back to him, providing the context. They go back and forth for a bit, mostly because of Jimmy calling her his favorite. Which, you know, she did warn him about. Eventually, they do stop talking and he sighs in that familiar Jimmy way.

"Sorry about that. Are you laughing?"

"No, no, of course not," She grins and she's sure he can practically hear it, "That wasn't funny at all."

"Uh-huh," She can picture him rolling his eyes, "Look, I was just calling to check in. I heard you were late again today."

Ava groans, rubbing a palm down her face, "Jesus, why is everyone on me for that? Ten minutes. It was just ten minutes!"

"That's a lifetime in this business, Ava," Jimmy explains patiently, "And look, I get it. I do, okay? You're off doing your thing but you also need to be here. In person, preferably. Especially when your boss is around."

Jimmy had become paranoid of speaking about her Spider-Man activities so openly over the phone, so it left him explaining her other other job like she was engaging in unsavory activities. "You're acting like I'm a drug mule or something."

"I'm just telling it like it is," Jimmy says, "I know it's important. Believe me, I keep up with the news. Legit cable stuff. You're on every other day."

Ava snorts, "That's definitely not true but okay." She had told him her secret very soon after hiring him as her manager, a fresh-faced dropout with nowhere to go but up. The radioactive spider that bit her at twenty years old had been a factor in her never finishing college, but it certainly wasn't the only thing. A lot of shit had come up in that year. Really bad shit.

But now here she was, twenty-five and still finding the balancing act all too tedious.

"Okay since you won't tell me, then I'll ask. Are you okay?"

Ava makes a face like she's thinking, trying to be funny even in her empty living room/kitchen. It could be a sad painting. She ignores the heaviness that a simple question creates in her chest. She should be grateful at least one person in her life seems to care, right?

"I'm totally fine. Better than ever, Jimbo," If they were in-person, she might even be doing finger guns toward him. Maybe she was even doing them now.

"Please don't ever call me that again," He says, then pauses. It's long enough that she worries she may have struck an actual nerve. She almost apologizes until he finally adds, "Just try not to be late again. Or if you are, then at least buy everyone donuts or something. Have a better excuse than traffic, okay? Deborah's made it clear traffic is not a real excuse."

"Wow," Ava stretches her arms above her head before returning the speaker to her ear. Some bones pop that she didn't know still could. "That's severely fucked, man. Just nasty stuff coming from the boss herself."

Jimmy makes a little humming noise, "It is what it is. Look, I gotta go. Kayla's disappeared and I'm worried she's finally found out where my bedroom is. I tricked her into thinking it was the Master and I think the jig is finally up."

"Okay, see ya when I see ya."

"Stay safe, okay? And text me whenever you're doing something particularly dangerous. Like, you know…drugs…?" It comes out like he's questioning his own code words. The man lives to make his life harder than it should be.

"Uh-huh. I will definitely text my manager whenever I decide to do drugs," She repeats incredulously before hanging up with a quick goodbye.

Now that she's up, she trudges toward her little fridge and pulls out some leftover pizza from last night. A free pie she had been given for stopping a local pizzeria from getting robbed. She had eaten half and saved the rest for this very moment. It was times like these, she felt at her lowest in some capacity. But she couldn't help that her appetite had grown along with her powers. All she did in her free time was physical activities. She deserved half a large pizza whenever she wanted it.

She sits at the kitchen counter and eats, watching TikToks and sending the occasionally funny ones to Jimmy and a few to Kayla. She wasn't the closest to the girl, but she knew her well enough with all the time she spent with Jimmy. Although she did react to every TikTok with a new animal emoji, regardless of any context.

She also looks into the news of the day, wondering if anything more had come up of the murder she saw that afternoon. There were a couple articles that explained the victim had most likely been a passerby, a regular guy with a regular job. He had been stabbed a few times. That was it. That was all the investigation had yielded.

Ava tries not to let it get to her. It was probably just a random crime. She's seen hundreds of them over the past five years.

With dinner over, she squeezes in an hour of work before her phone finally buzzes with a police scanner notification.

Finally, she thinks to herself, I was getting really fucking bored.

_____

The next morning, she's awake before her alarm which is a welcome change. Her entire morning routine goes as smoothly as it can and she's happy to make it to the office without any bumps in the road. A seemingly perfect start to her day.

So, when Jimmy and Kayla personally show up at her desk, she gets this ominous feeling in the back of her head. Not that buzzing spidey sense. Just the most human nerves possible.

"Deborah's asking for you," He informs her calmly.

It's made less so by Kayla keeping a hand on her hip and adding, "And she did not seem happy."

Jimmy looks at her in exasperation, "Kayla! Time and place!"

"What?" Kayla throws her hands up in the air, "She didn't! I just wanted her to go in with the right head space."

Ava blinks, "Okay, weirdly nice but still insane, " She glances at Jimmy, "Um, do you happen to know why she's asking for me? Did that come up at all?"

He shakes his head, "No. She just said to get you to her office. Well, at first she made an offhand comment wondering if you'll even show up this morning, which I tried to defend you from but then she got annoyed so I just—" Kayla nudges him slightly with her elbow. He nods once, "Sorry. Point is, she wants to talk. That's all I know."

Ava purses her lips. It seemed like she had no choice. And she was probably going to be fired. Well, this was nice while it lasted. A little padding for her resume if nothing else. She stands up from her chair and thanks them for letting her know. She knows the way to Deborah's office, so she makes the trip on her own.

Feeling like a lamb to the slaughter, she knocks tentatively on her boss' office. Almost immediately, a man opens it and allows her inside before leaving himself. It's all so formal she starts feeling a little nauseous without a word even being spoken. Deborah is sitting, typing away at something with squinted eyes behind her glasses.

Of course, the first to break the silence is her.

Ava awkwardly stands in front of Deborah, unsure whether to sit or stay standing. "Jimmy said you wanted to see me?"

Finally, Deborah glances up at her, taking off her glasses. "That's correct."

Then, nothing for a few more seconds. Ava thinks she'd rather get another broken nose than deal with whatever the fuck is happening here ever again. "Uh, for what, exactly?"

"I'm promoting you."

Ava blinks, then splutters, "W-what?"

Deborah rolls her eyes like this has all been some big inconvenience. "You're my head writer now."

Another choked sound. Ava wishes she had chosen to sit down with the sudden wobbliness her legs feel. "Do I not get a say in this?" Her mind immediately goes to wanting to keep the under the radar vibes she's been curating for the past year. This was a much, much more intensive role she did not have the capacity to deal with. Spider-Man could not deal with this right now.

That seems to fully catch Deborah's attention. She tilts her head, almost offended. No, definitely offended. "Excuse me?"

Right. Anyone else, and they would be jumping for joy. Ava tries to temper her emotions, "It's just—I mean, it's a big job, isn't it? I don't think I'm the right person. Like, at all. I can hardly get here on time everyday. Heh. Ha," She finishes weakly, trying for a joke and bombing. It might be preferable to just get fired at this point. The queasiness in her stomach from before has not gone away. Was she really going against Deborah Vance to her face? Why the fuck was this happening to her?

"You misunderstand me," Deborah says cooly, eyes narrowed like a predator to Ava's prey-like demeanor, "This isn't a choice. My former head writer just resigned for another job and I need someone to fill it."

"But," Ava tries her best to not sound whiny and pathetic but it's all she really knows how to be right now, "Why me?"

"You're funny," Deborah says like it's the simplest thing, "I've known I'd need a replacement for a few weeks now, so I've been monitoring everyone's ideas and suggestions. You've had the most that make me laugh."

"I…" Ava has nothing else in her, as if all the air has been expelled from her lungs. This simultaneously crushing and amazing compliment. It shocks her how much she does not want this. At all. It wasn't the right time. She doesn't think it ever will be.

"Well, don't let it get to your head," Deborah warns, "First day's tomorrow. My assistant, Damien, will show you to your new office. Now," She makes a shooing motion toward the door, "Buh-bye."

With that, she's figuratively shoved out. On the other side of the door, she squeezes her eyes shut, pressing a fist to her forehead. "Fuck," She mutters to herself, "Why am I so funny?"

_____

The work day goes by in a slog after that, mostly clouded by the frightening realization that she's going to be spending more time with her boss than she ever wanted. Spider-Man duties come in clutch to keep her mind off everything. A few punches in and she's already feeling a little better.

The feeling returns on another random rooftop. Some corporate building a gazillion stories in the air, leaving her with a grand view of New York City. It was getting dark now, sun setting on the horizon. She had a bodega bagel in one hand, chewing thoughtfully as she enjoyed the break in tension. She used to be afraid of heights but had to quickly get over it if she ever wanted to do her job seriously. Because it was a job. One she took seriously.

Her phone blares her ringtone at her, a picture of her mom filling the screen. For a second, she debates letting it go to voicemail but knows that would only lead to further issues in the future. Namely, her mom assuming she had died or was in the process of dying or causing someone else to die.

"Hey, mom," Ava answers with a mouthful of bagel. A plane flies above her, closer than she had ever seen one. She wonders briefly if any passengers can see her.

"Are you eating something?"

"Mhm."

"Oh, god, Ava, don't talk with your mouth full!"

Ava laughs a little, "I was greeting you! It's not my fault you called in the middle of my snack."

"You could've answered once you were done."

"Then it would've went to voicemail and you would be even more freaked out than you are now."

"I do not 'freak out'," Her mom says defensively, "I worry like any other mother."

Ava raises her eyebrows, looking down at the people going on about their evenings below her. Her legs swing off the edge of the building. Something about being so close to it was exhilarating. "Okay, I concede. What did you call me about?"

"I just wanted to check in. You don't call as often anymore."

Ava chews her bottom lip, "Yeah, sorry about that. I've been a little busy with work and everything."

And saving the world, she thinks but doesn't dare say it aloud.

"Oh, yes. How's work going? Make any new friends?" Her mom asks so earnestly it makes Ava's chest hurt.

Ava laughs a little awkwardly, "Well, actually. Something did happen today. I got a promotion."

Her mom gasps so loudly it makes her flinch away from her phone, "Oh my gosh, are you being serious?"

"I am," Ava can't help but smile at her mom's sudden excitement. It's all anyone wants in the end, right? To make their parents proud? Or just parent, in her case. "Deborah Vance personally asked for me to become the new head writer on Late Night."

"Head writer? Wow, that sounds important, Ava. That—that's amazing. I'm so happy for you, honey."

"Thanks, mom," She says, pushing down her concerns for the moment. At least someone was happy for her.

The rest of their conversation is mostly about the promotion until, eventually, Ava gets another notification about a car accident a few blocks away and she quickly wraps up their conversation, promising to update her mom on how the new job goes.

When she arrives to the accident, she quickly helps a woman pinned underneath her car and a man stuck inside his own due to the wrecked doors. She looks over them both, focusing on the women as she seemed to be on the brink of a panic attack and the man was on the phone with his wife. Which, fair enough. Getting stuck under two tons of metal would scare any normal person.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay," Ava softly assures her, "Just breathe. Breathe with me, okay?" She takes in exaggerated breaths, slow and steady, gesturing for the woman to follow her.

As she does, she seems to calm a bit. Ava keeps an eye on her, "Better?"

The woman nods, hands still a little shaky as she runs them through her hair. They were sat on the curb of the sidewalk, a mere feet away from the collision. She keeps staring at it, "I'm sorry. I was just—I didn't know if anyone would help."

"No need to apologize," Ava says, "What's your name?"

"Laura," The woman tells her, still doing her best to breathe slowly.

"Cool. My names Spider-Man. It's nice to meet you," Ava tells her, smiling underneath the mask.

Laura smiles back and Ava takes it as a win.

The police arrive soon after she does, mostly just taking their statements. She greets them a two-fingered salute, "Officers." One of them looks familiar, probably from other crime scenes.

"We've got it from here," He lets her know, just mean-mugging her the whole time. She's never been very popular with the boys in blue. Mostly because she does their job for them. And, better, if she was being honest. "Get out before we arrest you for obstructing a crime scene."

Ava jumps up a light pole, hanging on it upside down with only the soles of her feet, "That's if you can catch me."

"Nothing would make me happier," He tells her gruffly.

She gives him a thumbs up, "Always appreciate these talks, Todd," And with that, she shoots a web upward and leaves, onto the next string of crimes to stop and people to help.

_____

She knocks on the window to Jimmy's home office twice, scaring him up and out of his desk.

"Holy shit, Ava!" He shrieks, eyes wide as he meets her masked face on the side of his two-story house, "What the fuck?"

She grins, opening the window and crawling inside like, well, a spider. Which he must find unnerving as he takes a step back. She stands, pulling her mask off. "Sup."

He looks at her like she's insane, "Sup? Really? You scare me half to death and that's all you have to say for yourself?"

Ava shrugs, "I thought it'd be funny and it was. Have you made dinner?"

Jimmy sighs, gesturing toward the door, "I have leftover spaghetti downstairs."

Ava grins.

As she enjoys the spaghetti, she points a finger at him, "Did you hear what Deborah told me?"

He shakes his head, "No, I was going to check in tomorrow with you. But I assume it wasn't anything awful since you didn't immediately call me to tell me you've been fired."

"She's made me head writer because I'm quote, 'funny',"Ava takes another bite of food, hoping to drown her anxieties in the fettuccine, "So now I'm probably going to actually get fired once she realizes how much I bail out of shit."

Jimmy purses his lips, "Hm, yeah. That does complicate things. Damn," He tsks, "I really wanted to congratulate you, but I think that'd make you feel worse, wouldn't it?"

Ava nods, taking a sip of the glass of water she had also helped herself to, "I knew you'd get it. You're kinda the only person who does," She huffs, looking up at the ceiling with a groan, "Fuck. This is gonna suck so bad."

He tilts his head to the side, empathetic, "Look, I'm going to do my best to paint you in the best light for her, but this is a good opportunity. I mean, you're about to be the youngest head writer on a Late Night talk show. That's something, right?"

Ava nods slowly, "I know, I know. If I were anyone else, I'd be jumping for fuckin' joy."

Jimmy is quiet for a moment, watching her finish the entirety of his leftovers. Finally, he says, "Did you get in a fight?"

She looks up from slurping the last of the noodles and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She winces, "Oh," She points to her split lip, "You talking about this?"

He nods.

She waves his concerns away, "Pshhh. I'm fine. You should see the other guy. He's gonna be stuck to the side of that alley for a while."

Jimmy raises an eyebrow at that, "I'm not going to ask any questions. I just want you to know, you can always come to me if you think it's getting too much. I'll advocate for you."

Ava nods, a little embarrassed as she glances down at her empty plate. She blinks twice, a burning behind her eyes that she does not want to get into right now. Because if she does, she might realize that Jimmy was her only real friend in life. And he was also her manager. Which was just sad.

"Yeah, okay," She says quietly, "I'll, um, keep that in mind, man," She clears her throat, "I should head out anyways. I just wanted to check in about that and yeah…" She trails off, unsure how to repay his steady kindness. Thankfully, her phone saves her once again. She holds it up for him to see the newest crime on the block, "Duty calls."

Jimmy nods once, "Be safe."

With that, she steps out and swings away from his neighborhood.

_____

The first few days of fulfilling her new role are tumultuous to say the least. She has to adjust to new responsibilities that require more work than she is used to along with the usual Spider-Man duties. Deborah wants them to begin everyday with a meeting, just the two of them.

Ava bites down on her lip, trying to ignore the sound of the clock ticking above her new and still sparse desk. Before she knows it, it's time to go see Deborah.

In her office, she still feels like she's in a lion's den. Even if this time, she's somewhat more prepared to hand over the things she's been working on. And yet, when she's asked to show them, she stutters. "Oh, you—you want to see everything now?"

Deborah nods slowly like she's stupid. Which is how Ava feels ninety-nine percent of the time. But she quickly digs out her notebook, finding the most recent page, "Right, yeah. I do have some new ideas here if you—if you wanna take a look."

"You write them in a notebook?" Deborah asks, carefully taking it from Ava's hand.

"When I don't have my laptop on me, I do. Makes me feel old school, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Deborah gives her words a once through and Ava waits as patiently as she can for any response.

Deborah finally looks up at her after a minute or so and shuts the notebook definitively, "The last three are good."

"Only those three?" Ava asks, wondering if she's hearing things, "Nothing else?"

Deborah shrugs like this is no big deal, which is must not be for her. For Ava, this makes her want to shrink into a dark, dark hole. "The ones about the Kardashians are okay, too. But the buildup doesn't make the punchline hit like it should."

Ava swallows harshly, quickly realizing this is just work. Business. Nothing she needs to take personally. And yet—

"There's, like, twenty jokes there. All from me. Not even half meet your criteria? I thought you promoted me because you liked what I've written before?"

"Key word: before. And I didn't say I liked everything you've ever written. You just happened to have the majority to make me laugh out of all the other writers."

Ava takes a deep breath, controlling her sudden urge to just walk out. All this extra fucking stress was going to be the death of her. She musters up a polite smile, "Right. Cool. Of course," She holds a hand up, nodding toward her notebook, "Could I…?"

Deborah hands it back, Ava looks through the page she read through. Yeah, some of these could be better. And she had a few ideas for new segments that weren't exactly jokes that definitely needed to be polished. Okay, so Deborah's right. Sort of. She's still willing to go to bat with some of these if needed.

As soon as she accepts the criticism, it seems to break through the iciness that had covered their conversations up until now. Not necessarily becoming friendly but understanding of what the other was trying to say. Deborah Vance was still very much direct to an almost hurtful degree, giving Ava ammunition for her self-deprecating thoughts for the next decade or so.

But it also kind of…felt nice? God. How sad. Ava hadn't had this much fun while writing in a long time. Not that she'd say that to her boss' face or anything. And Deborah still pushed back on almost everything she had to add or say, but they were able to go into the main writer's conference room with a somewhat united front on what they liked and didn't like.

Once lunch rolls around, Ava overhears some of her co-workers discussing the latest news as she fills a small plastic cup with water near the cooler.

"I heard there was another body found near that laundromat nearby." One of them, Chase, she thinks, says. Ava busies herself with the buttons on the machine, acting like she wasn't sure which one to press as she zeros in on the conversation.

"Oh, yeah," The other person who she's pretty sure is Monica says, "I saw the police there on my way to work. Kinda scary that it's the second in two days now."

"Did they say anything?"

"The police?"

"Yeah."

Monica shakes her head, "No. They just told people to stay back, but I didn't really have the time to take a look, not like I really wanted to anyway," She shudders, "Too queasy for that."

They move on quickly after that, so Ava takes her cup and sips it as she walks away. It was the beginning of their lunch break, maybe she could take the free time to check out the laundromat. The fact that another body had shown up was giving her that weird feeling the first one did. Something was off here. Very off.

It's simple enough to suit up in some alleyway and swing to the laundromat. There's no evidence of a crime at this point, hours later. So, she takes out her phone, searching up any details and finding it just as sparse as the one from a couple of days ago. Still another man who was stabbed to death.

The stabbing seems to have happened off to the side of the laundromat, closer to the alley and away from prying eyes. If it happened in the morning before work, then there might have been less eyes on the scene in general. Times like these, she wished she had a contact with the police as much as it would annoy her to work with them in any capacity.

She tries to be subtle as she crawls down the building and closer to where it all occurred, but nothing seems to have been left behind. The scene had been wiped clean.

Ava squints, eyeing the trashcans and cardboard boxes strewn across the alley as if they might hold all the answers. And, eventually, one of them does. A box from some shipping company has specks of green liquid splattered on its sides. Not much for the average person to notice, but her eyesight had only gotten better as she came into her powers.

Against better judgment, she touches the specks, and it hardly smudges. It's already dried.

Hm.

"Probably biological," She says to herself, "Kind of feels like blood," and she certainly knew what that felt like. It's the most evidence she can find that hasn't already been swept up, only deepening the mystery in her head. There isn't much else to go off of, so she leaves soon after with the nagging thought that she was missing something.

The rest of her day goes well enough, spent butting heads with Deborah over more things then ever actually agreeing on anything. She gets out a little past 5pm with the promise to bring some more jokes the next day.

_____

"That all you got?"

"Fuck you!"

Ava can't help but laugh, dodging another punch. The dude had tried to steal from Delmar's Deli-Grocery, her favorite sandwich place, as she was heading in to order. So now, he had to deal with Spider-Man. The whole ordeal was supposed to be over as quick as it started, considering it was just one man.

That is until his buddy joins in, catching her off guard enough that he gets a good jab at her side. It's a momentary weakness that he takes advantage of, taking another hit to her face this time. She feels that one harder, knows the bruise will bloom within the next few minutes.

With a shake of her head, she reorients herself enough to keep her stance steady. Another web shoots out toward the bigger guy's face and it makes him wave his hands around wildly, only making it worse. She kicks him square in the chest, and webs him to the floor. The other guy's eyes widen, realizing his best bet at winning is gone. He tries for one last hurrah, rushing toward Ava like he's about to shove her.

She sidesteps him with ease, making him stumble and trip over his own momentum. She webs him down, too.

With that, she looks around at the scared customers and employees. "Is everyone okay?" Everyone nods, muttering some quiet yeses and yeahs, which fills her with relief.

One kid, barely a teenager holding a bottle of Sprite nods, holds up her phone shakily, "I-I called 911."

Ava smiles, giving her a thumbs up and trying to be as comforting as she can, "Nice job," The kid smiles weakly at that. She still takes the time to look over everyone and pay the owner for what she bought before those guys showed up. It's Delmar himself running the counter today.

It's in doing so, that Ava is greeted with someone she never expected to see here.

Deborah fucking Vance.

She short circuits a little, freezing as she sees the woman try to get up from in front of the drinks section, probably having fallen in all the chaos of the fight in such an enclosed space. When Ava finally realizes what's happening, she rushes over to help her stand.

"Are—are you okay, ma'am?"

Deborah scoffs, all but shoving Ava away, "I'm fine. I don't need someone in spandex of all things helping me get up!"

"Well, it's not all spandex," Ava corrects, still in a bit of stupor. Since when has Deborah ever been here? She's gotten sandwiches here for years and never once seen her boss.

"Sure," Deborah huffs, dusting off her coat and pants, "The red and blue is really not as eye-catching as you might think it is."

Ava laughs, mostly to herself. What a weird life she's living. "It's supposed to be noticeable. And I think they're nice, bright colors. I don't want anyone to be scared when they see me."

Deborah tsks, glancing away and toward the sandwich counter, "'The Delmar' my ass. Jesus Christ. Why did I listen to her?" She mutters under her breath, but Ava still catches it. Enhanced hearing and all that. But she sort of wished she hadn't because she's sure Deborah's talking about her.

It had been about a week since they've started working more closely and in that amount of time, Ava had briefly mentioned stopping by here and always getting their signature sandwich, 'The Delmar', and sang its praises during a lunch break where Deborah wanted her to stay in the building. She had Door Dashed it and didn't think much of telling her boss, already having forgotten about it herself.

So what the fuck is Deborah doing here?

Ava is grateful for her mask as it hides the wave of emotions that wash over her. Confusion. Embarrassment. Annoyance that Deborah seems to have still found some way to be upset with Ava when she isn't even technically here. But the fact that she even came at all, on a whim based on Ava's small remark was oddly…touching?

In her whirlwind of thoughts, Deborah was on her way out.

Ava catches up to her, unsure what was bringing her to do so. Her mouth moves faster than her brain when she asks, "Excuse me, ma'am. But would you mind if I walked you home? I just, uh, I wouldn't want anything else to happen to you on the way."

Deborah looks at her like she looks at Ava, which makes her feel a little less special. In some fucked up kind of way. "I'm not walking home. I have a car waiting out here."

Ava deflates like a a balloon, "Oh," She's not sure why this feels like such a gut punch."Okay, um," She smiles weakly, "Stay safe out there!"

Deborah gives her a small but pitiful look before turning around and walking into a black SUV. As it drives off, Ava waves, feeling oddly useless. She pivots, relieved to hear the sirens of police cars arriving, so she leaves the people inside the store in their hands.

She arrives home exhausted to the bone, but she still has to take the time to clean herself up. So, she slips out of her suit and examines the little nicks and bruises that always litter her after any patrol. The first-aid kit in her bathroom is constantly being replaced.

As she dabs at her scraped knuckles with some alcohol wipes, her phone buzzes, pushing through her Do Not Disturb setting, so she assumes it's Jimmy and must be important. Her finger finds the green answer button on instinct. The phone precariously stands up against her paper towel holder across from her. She continues to clean up the cut on her cheek, courtesy of the big dude at Delmar's wearing some brass knuckles she hadn't noticed at first.

"Ava?"

Ava jumps in her seat, looking at a FaceTime call with Deborah Vance. Fuck. She just can't catch a fucking break. "Oh my god, Deborah. Ms. Vance. Deb—"

"I thought I clicked on a phone call. Why are you on my screen?"

Realizing this was done on accident, Ava tries to make her feel better, "Oh, the buttons are super close together. It's fine. Happens to me all the time. Uh, why exactly are you calling? Er—Face Timing?"

At 10 PM?, she wants to add but doesn't.

Deborah's pixilated face does something she can't quite make out, "I just wanted to tell you that 'The Delmar' sandwich was not anywhere near the best I've ever had."

Ava blinks, "Oh, okay…?"

"I don't think you've ever had real bread before, have you?"

"What—of course I have!"

"Have you ever been to Paris?"

She shakes her head.

Deborah rolls her eyes, "Then you've never had any. I should—" She pauses, squinting at the screen even with glasses on. Her face comes closer, making Ava want to scoot back as if they were talking in-person, "Wait, are you bleeding? What the hell happened to you?"

Ava laughs involuntarily, scrambling for an excuse, "Oh, this? It's nothing. Just—a cat."

"A cat?" Deborah reiterates, not quite believing her.

"Yep. A friend's cat got too handsy. And I was all like 'buy me a drink first!' Heh," She swallows, throat suddenly too dry. Was this making any sense? "But, uh, I'm totally fine. Tis but a scratch," She grimaces at her own words like it's actively damaging her. Getting punched in the face was less embarrassing than whatever the fuck this is.

"Okay…" Deborah's still looking at her like she's grown a second head. How did this turn into Ava being the crazy one when Deborah called her at 10 PM just to complain about the sandwich she was under no obligation to try? "Well, I just needed to inform you of that."

"Cool. Thanks, I think? Or maybe not, I guess. If you didn't like it."

"Mhm," Deborah purses her lips, "Good night, then."

"Yeah, good night. See ya tomorrow, boss," She gives her an honest to god salute as she hangs up.

Her own reflection stares back at her as the phone screen goes dark. She keeps her own gaze for a few seconds before face planting into her kitchen table with a groan. It stings her bruised and cut up cheek, but she can't bring herself to care.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" She speaks into the wood of the table, muffled slightly. Of course, no one is there to answer her.

_____

The next day at work, she greets Deborah as casually as possible, unsure if bringing up their weird, late night conversation up was the right move. So she just gets down to business, going through what they need to get done for the day. They had a big actor scheduled for today and wanted to make sure they stuck the landing with all their jokes and bits.

"Oh, you know, I think I heard he can speak German. Maybe we can do something with that?" Ava pipes up, leaning back in her chair. It was one of those that had wheels, so she could rock herself back and forth. Deborah was across from her, seemingly less active in her seat. They had found an empty conference room, probably because everyone was out for their break. But they were too busy to do so, and Ava hadn't found any crimes crazy enough to warrant leaving for a quick patrol right now.

Deborah hums, not appreciatively but like she's trying to figure out the kindest way to deny Ana something. Which is sort of nice, she thinks. "Do what? It's not exactly a language of love. More like a language of hate, given, you know, history."

"Woah. Okay. Glad we're alone so no one else can hear that."

Deborah rolls her eyes, "It's a joke. Or are you not a comedy writer?"

"I'm head writer, actually," Ava corrects playfully. It still felt weird to say even after almost two months of working together in this newfound proximity.

"Not for long if we can't figure this out. And stop leaning back, you're going to crack your head open."

Ava freezes, in the midst of looking directly up toward the ceiling. A slow grin creeps upon her face and, just to fuck with her, she leans back even further. She just wants to do it a little more, scare Deborah a bit for the joke of it. But she miscalculates how far she's going and feels the chair give out from supporting her head and she's quickly falling completely backwards.

She hears Deborah's voice call out her name, believing she's truly about to knock herself, but Ava's reflexes kick in and she catches herself on her palms. As she holds herself up, she sees Deborah out of her seat, looking at her in disbelief. "What the fuck, Ava?"

Ava scrambles to get up, embarrassed and feeling like an idiot. Why did she think that was a good idea? Too many slip-ups and someone could begin to suspect something. And she certainly didn't need that someone to be Deborah. "I'm okay—I'm okay. I caught myself."

"Imagine if you had gotten hurt?" Deborah says, "Then who would've helped me finish the jokes?"

"I mean, we do have a full crew of writers for that…"

Deborah rolls her eyes and then gives her a once over, "Are you okay?" She asks like it's something she feels obligated to do. And less out of any true concern.

Ava nods quickly, just wanting the moment to be over. And thankfully, she gets her out as her phone rings, or really buzzes incessantly on the conference table. She rushes to snatch it up, and answers. She didn't even glance at the name. A habit she should really get rid of.

"Hello?"

"Girl, you need to get to Schaefer & LuSaque right now," Kayla's voice comes through on the other side, quieter than Ava has ever heard her be.

"What?" Ava can't hide her look of surprise as she steps out of the room.

"I think someone's trying to break into the office. Or multiple someones. I don't know!" She sounds exasperated now, like this is all Ava's fault.

"Swing—What? I don't—I'm working right now, Kayla! Call the police if you think something's wrong."

Kayla groans, "Oh my god. I know you're Spider-Man, okay? So get your little bug butt over here before Jimmy and I are straight up murdered. He called the police and you know they won't be here until we're already dead."

Ava's eyes just about pop out of their sockets, "How—I mean—I'm not…" She shakes her head. Okay, one thing at a time. They have to unpack that later. She glances at a nearby clock. Lunch was over in ten minutes. If she did this, she was not going to be back on time. "Fine. Shit. Fine, I'm going." She hangs up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ava curses, pacing slightly. She looks at the closed door to the conference room. And then opens it to quickly tell Deborah, "That was Jimmy. He said he needs me at his office. Like, right now. So I'm just gonna go because he sounds super serious and, uh, yeah. Okay. Bye."

She doesn't wait to see Deborah's reaction or her face or anything because it's too damn scary. She might wake up to a termination email in her inbox tomorrow.

_____

The Schaefer & LuSaque office building is only five minutes away if she's swinging at full speed, which she certainly is. She knows where the entrance is to their floor, also knows it's a lot of window panes, so she tries her best to peek through without being too noticeable.

As she does so, she spots Jimmy and Kayla, both crouched under Jimmy's desk and watching their entrance. She can hear banging from inside. Someone (or multiple someones, as Kayla alluded to) was trying to get inside. Why? She really wished she knew.

Ava taps on the glass, startling the two of them. Kayla quickly goes from fear to relief as she realizes who it is. Jimmy still seems terrified and a little confused. Ava wonders briefly if Kayla had even informed him that she had been called in.

Kayla points to her left, Ava's right, and mouths Bathroom Window with such clarity it's almost impressive.

Ava nods once, crawling quickly to the other side of the building. She's been in it before and knows there's one of those blurred glass windows that doesn't actually open in the bathroom, but she can certainly try to punch it in. Once there, she does just that and, eventually, it shatters. It kind of stings her hand, but she pushes through and fits inside.

Landing on her feet, she carefully twists the door knob. It reveals the empty office. She can hear the pounding on the door getting louder and muffled voices on the other side. To push this along, she walks toward it and just opens it. A group of four or five dudes all freeze at the sight of her, of Spider-Man. They're all dressed like stereotypical robbers, ski masks and all black clothes.

"What's up, guys?" She cracks her neck the side, curling her hands into fists, "You here for the party?"

The fight is quick and as uneventful as beating up some guys can be. In the end, they're either knocked out cold or webbed to the walls and floors, which she does feel a little bad about. Her webbing took a few hours to dissolve.

Ava moves to check on Jimmy and Kayla, still cowering under the desk. "You guys alright?"

Jimmy nods but she can tell he's shaking, "Yeah. Yep. Totally fine."

"I knew I could count on you!" Kayla exclaims, going in for the hug, "Fuck yes! Having Spider-Man on call is so cool," She even gives her mask a peck on the cheek, "Thanks, Ava."

Jimmy glances between Ava and Kayla, "Uh, what? Kayla, that's not—"

Ava shakes her head, stopping him from trying to protect her identity, "She knows. Somehow. Actually, how do you know, Kayla?"

Jimmy places his hands over his face, trying to regulate himself, "Oh my god. Why does no one tell me anything?"

Kayla only smiles, "How could I not know? You're not exactly sneaky about it. And I'm very observant."

Ava just decides to take off her mask. Her hair is mussed and she's sweating so much, but she doesn't see the point when they're in private and these two know. "I can't do this right now, but I would like to know what the hell happened to get a break-in here?"

"Some shady guy we met with was looking to join our talent, but we got bad vibes from him, so we ended up not closing the deal. I guess our instincts were correct because he ended up hiring some psychos to intimidate us!" Jimmy explains.

"Chill out, papi," Kayla tries to soothe him with a reassuring shoulder squeeze, "Our little vigilante came in clutch. And I don't mean purse!"

Ava opens and closes her mouth, feeling like she's in a very bad fever dream. Or on drugs. Which have had no effect on her ever since she got her powers. "If you're both okay, then I need to go. I left Deborah hanging at work and she might kill me about it."

Jimmy waves her away, "Yes, yes, go. We're good. Thanks."

Ava nods once, leaving the way she came from because Spider-Man just casually exiting this building from the inside would bring too much attention to her.

_____

The office feels eerily quiet when she returns. The hustle and bustle of the regular work day is still there, everyone having returned from lunch and gotten straight back to work, but she swears she can hear her heart beating in her throat. That familiar nausea settles in the pit of her stomach.

She just about tiptoes to her personal office, feeling cowardly for wanting to avoid a conversation with Deborah all together.

The next few hours go by and the unthinkable happens. Which is to say, nothing at all.

It's also worse. Because Ava quickly realizes that she would rather be chewed out by Deborah than to not have anything happen at all. No phone call. No texts. She's left to stew in her own anxieties even as she watches the taping of the show, hears her jokes be read out loud and laughed at.

It's so suffocatingly normal.

Even when she's back home, eating a microwaveable burrito (Or two, maybe three. Again, superpowers.) she doesn't feel particularly good. She just chalks it up to stress and goes out on patrol to distract herself. It works, as usual. She even finds the time to text her mom an update on how she's doing, which does mean bringing up the job, but she excludes the part where her boss might be actively ignoring her. Or planning to fire her.

Ava isn't sure which is worse.

She ends up asking how Ava's friends are doing.

Right. Her friends. Jimmy and Kayla, now a part of the same club she called Ball Knowers. Which Jimmy didn't really understand but Kayla thought it was funny when she texted it to their newly made group chat.

Ava: it's kinda nice to have another friend who's a girl

Jimmy: Yeah, I get it. Girl power and all that. 

Kayla: So if ur spiderman then can i ask where ur webs come from?

Jimmy: Jesus, Kayla

Kayla: WHAT? I'M CURIOUS!

Ava can't help her laughter as she types back a response.

Ava: it's all organic babyyy

Ava: comes from within 😌

Kayla: I FUCKING KNEW IT! you owe me money jim. i take venmo or cashapp NOT paypal maybe zelle if ur feelin freaky

Ava: you guys bet on this??? kayla you've known for less than a day???

Jimmy: I was swindled

They go on like that for a little longer. Ava sends them a selfie of her on top of the Empire State Building just because she can. Kayla hearts it and Jimmy sends a voice note pleading for her to be careful. It's nice. She thinks this is what having friends must be like.

_____

The following morning, she enters her office like any other day. And standing beside her desk, like it's her own, is Deborah.

"Holy shit!" Ava yells a little too loudly, hand on her heart at the sudden surprise.

Deborah smiles at her with too many teeth, "Morning."

Ava tries to calm her breathing and musters up a smile back at her, "Hi. Hey. Good morning."

"It is, isn't it? Sun's out. Birds are chirping."

Ava can't remember the last time she heard birds chirping in this city, but she just chooses to nod like she's being held at gun point. It doesn't feel too far off.

"So," Deborah leaves a pause open for Ava, expecting her to jump in. When she doesn't, she says, "What happened yesterday?"

Ah. There it is. The bomb has dropped and Ava is struggling to stay on the outside of its radius. She immediately jumps into a spiel of…something. Once more, her mouth races her brain and wins. "Look, I was going to tell you I'm sorry for just running, but I figured since lunch was over I should just work and then we taped and it still felt weird to find you afterwards and I was worried you'd just find me more annoying than usual if I texted or called so—"

"Okay, okay," Deborah holds a hand up, "Please stop it makes me ill when you're struggling to breathe."

Ava takes a breath just then, nodding furiously. She must look so red.

"This is the last time," Deborah continues, "Do not ever, and I mean ever, do that again. There is no warning. That was your chance. I like you. I like your jokes. That's what's saving you. But I am not above going back on my word."

Ava blinks rapidly, processing, "Okay, yeah, of course. It'll never happen again," She wants to add I swear or promise but it falls apart on her lips. She can't actually say that. It was a step too far, confidence in something she actually knew nothing about. There could never be a full guaranteed. Not with Spider-Man.

She could only hope nothing would come up again like it had yesterday. For now, though, she's just happy they seem to be on okay-ish terms and things can go back to normal.

Today is a little less stressful than yesterday for which she is grateful for. It's succinctly busy, leaving her little time to check-in with Jimmy and Kayla, but she does so anyway. Jimmy assures her that the police came soon after she left and Kayla tells her the webs dissolved and left little to clean up afterwards, though she makes it clear she wants Ava to give her a sample out of "curiosity". Whatever that means.

The writer's are on a roll today, working together seamlessly and bringing Deborah jokes that she likes more often than not.

Damien, the man who had brought Ava into Deborah's office that first day, is around more often, too. As Deborah's assistant, he's constantly being pulled between many places, but Ava does her best to try and get to know him. He's a bit closed off at first, but quickly comes to realize that Ava was chosen because she's good at her job.

Ava does her best to live up to the expectations, working nonstop for the show. It becomes harder to balance with her other other job, especially with her one and only chance already being used up. She tries to not ditch work for any reason, disregarding lunch as a break and just going on patrols then. It might leave her starving at the end of the day, but at least she's doing something.

The people of New York deserved that much.

_____

Ava walks on top of Williamsburg Bridge, passing the time between crimes to stop to just people watch. Or really car watch. She's noticed a few onlookers point up at her, some even take pictures but she just waves, hoping they continue on without causing a traffic jam. She used to drive up this bridge when she was younger, has memories of being in the backseat while her parents were in the front, laughing over some inside joke just for the two of them.

Her mom doesn't really laugh as much anymore. Ava thinks if she could just be a little funnier, a little better, then she could do it again. She could be happy again.

She sighs, deciding that this is enough moping around before she starts to really get depressed about the state of her lonely little life. So she swings off the bridge, waving in mid-air at a little girl who's poking her head out of her parent's car.

A few minutes into her swinging, the left side of her suit begins to vibrate. it's where she keeps her phone, a sleek pocket just big enough for it. She may be a superhero, but she was still Gen Z. And that meant having her phone on her at all times.

Ava lands on the side of the Bank of America tower and tugs her phone out of her suit. She makes sure to check the contact, having already been burned from not doing so before. It's Deborah. Again with these calls after business hours? Ava isn't sure if this is something she needs to tell their HR about. But that felt like a bit too much.

She still answers, making sure to keep one hand and her feet sticking to the wall as she uses her free hand to hold it up to her ear. It was surprisingly quiet the further you got up and away from the bustling streets.

She rolls her mask up halfway, not wanting to sound muffled, "Hey, D, what's up?"

"Don't call me that," Deborah's answer is immediate and Ava can't help but laugh, "I need your opinion on something."

Ava raises her eyebrows and grins. They were coming on four months working together and these kinds of questions still left her giddy inside, "Oh, do tell."

She can picture the way Deborah rolls her eyes perfectly, "Okay, so you know how we're doing the bit about congress?"

"Uh-huh."

"What if we did The White House instead? Or is that too on the nose? Maybe even broader?"

Ava hums thoughtfully, "Nah. I like the one about congress. Your instinct's usually right."

"Well, so is yours. Usually."

"Why thank you," Ava says in her most obnoxious British accent, tipping her nonexistent hat to the open door, "I'm kind of a genius when you think about it."

"Good thing I don't," Deborah says, quick witted as always, "So congress? You really think that works? It's not a little weird for me to say?"

"I think it's perfect because it's you saying it, silly. They'll never know what hit 'em."

Deborah is quiet for a moment. Ava almost checks to see if she's lost the call, but then she hears the woman say, "Okay. Thank you. I'll get out of your hair now. You're probably busy doing whatever young people like to do. Like protesting bees or something."

"Well, we wouldn't protest bees, we would protest to protect the bees," Ava corrects, "Which I have done, thank you very much."

"Mhm."

"And I'm not that busy," Ava says, "I mean, I am out but it's just…for a walk."

"Is that how you look the way you do?" She asks, a touch of amusement in her voice. It's harder to read her over the phone than in person.

Ava blanches, "What do you—do I look bad?"

Deborah scoffs, "You can drop the humble act. It is very obvious even when all you wear is sweaters that you take care of yourself. Which is shocking when I've seen what you eat for lunch and just how much you eat."

"Oh," Ava says, a little embarrassed for some reason. You would think she would love how her powers somersaulted her into becoming super jacked, but it really only made her more insecure. She didn't like anymore attention on her than necessary. There was a whole secret identity she needed to keep under wraps. "I'm not acting. I just don't think it's a big deal," She adds, "Okay, let's stop talking about me. What are you doing right now?"

"Answering emails. Riveting, I know."

Ava smiles to herself, an idea formulating in her head, "So nothing important?"

A beat, then, "I suppose…"

"Great! So, do you wanna hang out?"

"Hang out—what? Do you really not have anything better to do?" Deborah asks like she's annoyed but Ava hears something else in it, too. Something almost timid. Vulnerable, even.

Ava shakes her head even if she can't be seen. She glances down at the city streets. Nothing was catching her eyes or ears. A rare quiet night where she might just head home and binge shitty TV until she passed out on her couch and then wake up two hours later just to trudge five feet over to her bed. "Not really. I actually don't have a lot of friends in the city. Other than Jimmy. And sort of Kayla now. But they're busy with their own stuff."

"And I'm not?"

"You just said you weren't!"

Deborah sighs and there's a pause. Like she's really thinking about this. Ava wishes she could cross her fingers but that would only make her plummet to the pavement below. So she tries to imagine it in her head really hard.

"Is that really what you want?"

"Yes," Ava says eagerly.

_____

Ava meets with Deborah near their office building. Rockefeller Plaza is bustling at night, so she wades through swathes of people to find the other woman sitting in a cafe's outdoor table. She already has some kind of drink in front of her. Ava wonders how early she must have gotten here. When they lock eyes, Ava waves excitedly.

"Hey!"

Deborah follows her voice and raises her drink in greeting.

Ava sits across from her. It was already dark out, the streetlights illuminate Deborah enough for her to see. It's not exactly quiet in the heart of this place, but she quickly prefers it to what would have been her sad end to the night. "So, what's the plan?"

Deborah raises an eyebrow, "This was your idea. You do recall that, right?"

"I know," Ava nods, "I just don't want to force you do anything you don't want to."

"Like you didn't force me to come here?"

Ava gives her a look worth more than anything she could muster up. Deborah rolls her eyes, "You know, for a comedy writer you sure don't like being teased."

"I like to clock out of work and not have to deal with it anymore after that. Boundaries and all that. Shit gets toxic if you can't keep a work-life balance," She explains it all like she's not the worst at this, like she's not a hypocrite.

Deborah hums, "How professional. Do you really not have any ideas of how we can 'hang out'?" She puts the words in air quotes.

Ava grins, "Well, I know where we can start."

"And what's that?"

_____

They move away from the cafe, Ava guiding Deborah to her favorite food trucks littered around the streets surrounding Rockefeller Plaza. Everything from shwarma to tacos. And she quickly learns how much Deborah limits what she eats in a day.

"Okay, we can just buy one, then. We can share it," Ava compromises. The thought of not just enjoying food was so foreign to her. Without it, Spider-Man would be nowhere near as good as she was at her job.

Deborah barely agrees, taking the most conservative bite of a Birria taco. She shrugs, pleased, "I mean, it's good."

"But not life changing."

Deborah gives her a look she's come to welcome, "Of course not."

"Damn," Ava says, "I remember crying when I first tried this. But that might have also been because I had just dropped out of college and felt like a loser in the big apple."

"You dropped out of college?" Deborah asks and doesn't make it a joke like Ava had come to expect whenever she told anyone.

Ava laughs in that self pitying kind of way, "Yep. First generation drop out."

"Can I ask why?"

Ava purses her lips. She had not expected this conversation to ever come up with her own boss. And it all slowly sets in that they're actually, truly, hanging out. For the second time, she wonders how okay this is. In the grand scheme of things. "Uh," She tries to think of another joke but her heart's not in it. Too clocked out, "Just some personal stuff happened. Couldn't keep up. Felt like a idiot but oh well. You win some, you lose most."

Deborah doesn't say anything, just gives her another inscrutable look. Ava thinks that's for the best.

It isn't until they're waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, that Deborah says, "College is mostly a sham, so I don't think you missed out on much."

Ava can't help her surprised laugh, mouth stuffed full of apple cinnamon churros. She can see this for what it is. Deborah Vance is trying to comfort her. And it works, of course. The light turns green and they continue walking, going wherever the sidewalk takes them.

They pass by a few newsstands, which Ava had no idea still existed. The latest issue of The Daily Bugle has her smack dab on the front cover. Well, not Ava but Spider-Man. It's an action shot from a few days ago of her in mid-air. The title is in big, bold red lettering and states: SPIDER-MAN: VILLAIN OR HERO? WHO IS THIS MASKED MENACE?

"You know," Deborah says, pausing to read it, "I actually met him recently."

Ava perks up, "Really?"

Deborah nods, "Mhm. It was actually that day I told you I tried Delmar's deli."

"Oh? Was he, you know, cool? Nice?"

Deborah scoffs, "He's a bit…much. But he saved everyone there. Some group decided they were going hold up the owner at the register."

Ava puts on her best concerned face like this is her first time hearing of this. It isn't too hard because she's just been reminded how close Deborah was to a scary crime, even if she was the one to save her. "Woah, wait. You were there when the place was getting robbed? Are—are you okay?"

Deborah nods, waving off her concerns, "I'm just fine. I mean, I had a little fall but he helped me up. Again, a bit much with all the 'ma'am' talk but he seemed like a nice kid."

Ava beams, holding her head up a little taller. She can't help it. Deborah's complimenting her. "Okay, good. I've never met him in-person. But he seems pretty chill. You know, saving lives and all that." Okay, maybe she's laying it on a little too thick. Sue her.

"I suppose," Deborah says, "He has done some good."

They make their way to Central Park on a whim. Some late night concert is still going by the time they are in the vicinity. Ava doesn't know who the band is, but they provide nice background as they continue strolling through, walking off the food tour they just had. The path is lit by the streetlights. And the night air has only turned chillier as they were heading into October.

Maybe it's Ava's enhanced senses. Or maybe it's just her being generally aware, but Deborah is shivering. A lot.

"You cold?"

"I'm fine," Deborah says and crosses her arms to dig her hands into herself a little more.

"You're literally shaking. Here," She shrugs off her Carhartt jacket, revealing the long sleeve she was wearing underneath. "Take it."

"I said I'm fine!" Deborah exclaims, "You don't need to treat me like I'm fragile."

Ava can't hide her exasperation, "Just take it, lady. I'd do this for anyone."

They stand off for a few more seconds. Mostly Deborah as she glares. Ava just gives her an expectant look, willing to play the long game. Eventually, Deborah does relent and shrugs it on. It fits her well enough, maybe a little droopy on the sleeves but it doesn't seem too bad. "There. Happy?"

Ava smiles, "Very."

Their walk goes on for a while longer before it begins getting too late. The concert providing background noise finishes and people are leaving, so Ava takes it as their cue to start walking back to the plaza.

Once they've returned, the night light is in full swing. Ava walks Deborah to her car parked on a side street, hiding her surprise that she came here without any kind of driver. Ever the gentleman, she opens the driver's side door as soon as it's unlocked. Deborah gives her a look she hopes is fondness or something like it.

"Do you need a ride?" Deborah asks before she goes inside.

Ava shakes her head, "Nah, I'm good." She could get home super fast just by swinging. She hadn't driven a car in many years now.

"Are you sure?"

Ava nods sagely, trying to hide how the concern makes her heart do some kind of fluttering, "Yep. I promise."

Deborah takes her word for it and nods, "Well, okay. See you tomorrow then."

"See you then, boss," Ava waves. As she pivots, going to walk away, Deborah calls after her.

Ava turns back to her, waiting. Deborah purses her lips, thinking. Then, she says, "I had a nice night. Thank you."

Ava grins, giving her two thumbs up, "Hell yeah."

Deborah rolls her eyes, but it feels less annoyed and more…endeared. Ava doesn't know if it's egotistical to think so. But then the other woman is driving off and she tries not to think too hard about.

It's only when she's crawling through her fire escape window ten minutes later that she realizes Deborah never gave her jacket back to her.

She can't say she's that upset about it.

_____

It happens a few weeks later, as Ava is coming back from a particularly late night of patrol. She knows she's going to regret taking the few extra crimes in the morning, but she'll relish in the few hours of sleep she will get.

She's still swinging when she smells it first. Smoke. Sees ash coming down in the air around her as she gets closer to her apartment building. That buzzing under her skin comes alive, like a thousand bees were inside her. Her entire body is on high alert. And then she sees the source.

A fire burning through her entire building.

"Oh, fuck," She breathes out, swinging faster and faster. It's the middle of the night, she realizes, so many people must be home.

How long has it been going on? Enough that she can hear the sirens of fire trucks in the distance. Good. Someone called them. But the flames are blazing so big and bright that she can't think about it too much. She needs to save them.

She jumps through her window. As good a starting point as any. She picks up her backpack strewn on the floor, starts stuffing it with the few essentials she actually cares about and webs it to the side of the neighboring building as quick as she can. The building was only four floors and it hadn't seemed to reach her on the third just yet, but she can smell the smoke from her place. It's everywhere.

She steps out of her apartment. Other residents are rushing out of their apartments, too. Adults and kids alike, some holding pets and picture frames. She helps guide them down the stairs, picking up some kids and elderly residents who may have a harder time doing so since the elevator was not an option.

She moves up a floor, following the flames and side stepping them as needed. Her lungs hurt with every inhale, but she can't stop. It's up here that she sees the worse of it. This must be the floor the fire started. More residents are running about, some even deciding if jumping out their windows is the smarter choice.

Ava does her best to swing those who seem more desperate down. A large crowd of onlookers stare up at the blazing building. The firefighters and paramedics are also there, helping those who had escaped and entering the building to find those still in need.

Time passes in a blur. It could be minutes or hours before she finally takes a second to assess everyone outside of the building.

"Is that everyone?" She chokes out through a cough. Her hands and feet burn, the material of her suit could only take so much more. She can't imagine how much worse her skin looks under it all.

"No!" A man yells, running up and grabbing her shoulder roughly. He's crying. "My—my sister is still up there! And—and my nephew. I don't see them down here. I think they're still stuck. You have to save them. Please, Spider-Man!"

Ava swallows roughly, throat dry. She nods anyway, patting the man's hand on her shoulder, "I'll get them."

With that, she hops back up to the top floor. She yells for the mother and her son through the haze of smoke ash. She feels like she's walking on coals. About a minute later, she hears someone yelling back to her. As she follows the voice, she finds the apartment and subsequently the closet the two had taken refuge in.

The woman's expression turns from sorrow to relief as she sees Spider-Man. Her son is barely awake in her arms, looking no older than five. Ava gestures for her to get out, "Hey, hey. It's okay. I'm here. I got you," She takes the woman's hand and when she stumbles, she tells the woman to hold onto her.

The woman embraces Ava, dizzy from the loss of oxygen. Ava picks her up, glad she's still holding onto her son. She takes them both of the apartment and finds the nearest broken window. She maneuvers herself carefully, with only one free hand, to climb back down.

As she lands with a hop, she sets them down gently. The brother finds them quickly, helping them find the nearest paramedic. But first, he turns to Ava, tears shining in his eyes. "Thank you," He says, voice breaking.

Ava nods once, eyes stinging. She doesn't know if it's from the fire or something else. There doesn't seem to be anyone else still up there, but she speaks to a firefighter nearby just to be sure.

"We can't be sure," He tells her sincerely, "From what my crew saw, some just weren't gonna make it. We got everyone we could." The way he says 'we' makes her think he's also referring to her. It makes her chest hurt.

Ava clears her throat, sniffling, "Yeah, I—I know. I just—I guess I thought—" She can't finish. She looks away, letting him get carried into another probably more important conversation.

She walks off in a daze, swinging up and away from the chaos as families are reunited and people are cared for their injuries. Although, some were never going to see their loved ones again. The thought sticks out in her slurry of emotions, like a thorn on a rose. It pricks at her heart. Logically, she knew it was impossible to save everyone. It's happened before.

It's happened before, she thinks again, like some mantra that might make her feel better. But then, she thinks, doesn't mean I still don't try.

Ava finds her backpack, some clothes, her laptop, a frame of her and her parents along with a few other little things are all she has left of herself. It feels so specifically pathetic. That this is all that can define her. And maybe it's the past three or four hours of bumbling through an actively burning building, but she can't help but laugh. Alone on some roof, far away enough from people, she laughs. So hard it turns into cries.

Tears flow freely as she buries her face in her palms, mourning herself. Mourning the people she didn't save today. Mourning the people she didn't save five years ago. One year ago. It never ends. She will never save everyone.

She lets herself have this, selfishly. Sobs so hard she can barely breathe in between her gasps. The last time she cried like this was five years ago. Minutes pass until her head hurts from the effort of it all. Just in general.

Her body must have plans her heart can't understand because she rifles through the backpack, pulling out some of the pieces of clothing she haphazardly packed for herself. She ducks behind some air conditioning unit and changes into some jeans, a long sleeve button up and a pair of her most beat up Adidas. It's not a lot, but it will have to do.

She climbs back down onto the street as discreetly as she can and falls back into the crowd of people and emergency responders. Even without the suit, she finds herself helping however she can, directing people to the paramedics.

It leads to a paramedic asking her if she's a resident who was caught in the fire. She nods without thinking and is quickly brought to the back of an ambulance, even as she tries to assure them she's not doing as bad as others.

Without much of a choice, she's directed to the nearest emergency room. And maybe there is a chance for her to say no, but she doesn't. She can't be alone right now, even if it's just the company of medical professionals.

It makes her scoff at herself. How pathetically sad. If only the people of New York knew how much of a coward Spider-Man really was.

The wait in the ER is long. Other victims from the fire are here that are prioritized over herself. After two hours, she's finally seen. The doctor and nurse are nice women, checking her vitals and making sure her oxygen mask she had been given was still good to go. They also treat the minor burns on her hands and legs. As even more time passes, she quickly realizes she's going to be late for work.

It's 6am, so she debates on calling Deborah to let her know ahead of time. Was she even awake at this time? Ava has no clue what her sleep schedule is. But she decides it's better to just do it than not and risk pissing her boss off for not being on time.

"Ava?" Deborah answers almost immediately. She doesn't sound like she's just been woken up.

"Hey," Ava says, a little raspily because of all the smoke inhalation. She tries to breathe in her mask in between speaking. "Just wanted to let you know I'm probably going to be late coming in today."

"Why's that?"

"I'm kinda sorta in the ER?"

"What?" Deborah's voice comes through much louder, making Ava flinch away from her phone's speaker. "Why?"

"There was a—a fire. My place is, um, it's gone. The building is gone. Lot's of other people are here, too."

"Are you okay?"

Ava can't help coughing then, tears springing from her eyes. God. She doesn't want to cry again. This is all so fucking embarrassing. "Yeah, I mean, a little singed here and there. Also breathed in a lot smoke, but I'm totally fine. I just needed you to know, so you don't get mad or whatever. I'll be there a little later."

"Jesus Christ, Ava," Deborah says. Ava can imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose. "You shouldn't come in if you're in the ER. Which one is it?"

"Uh, New York-Presbyterian, I'm pretty sure."

"Okay, I'm calling to let them know I'll pay for your visit and whatever else you'll need."

Ava's eyes widen, "Woah, what? You don't need to do that, Deborah. Like, at all. I can pay for it."

Deborah ignores her and just asks, "Do you have anywhere to stay right now?"

Ava glances at her backpack, "Not really."

"Great. You can take one of the extras in my house, then."

"I don't know about that," Ava laughs nervously, "You really don't need to do all this."

"I'm doing it anyway. Look, I'll text you my address. I'll tell my house manager that you should be let in and given a room."

"Wait—right now?"

"Well, not until they let you leave. But yes, go there straight after."

Deborah shuffles something on the other hand. It sounds like a stack of papers, "Just take the day for yourself. I have to get back to work."

"Are you sure you don't need me?" Ava asks, feeling like a sad, wet kitten kicked off to the side of the road.

Deborah's voice softens, "Of course I do, but you've just had something terrible happen. I'm not making you work today."

"Oh," Ava deflates, some emotion leaving her in an instant. Indignance, probably. "Okay."

"I'll be back after work. Just make sure you do everything I told you."

Ava nods, blinking rapidly, trying and failing to stop a new wave of tears. She wipes at them forcefully, "I will. Um, thank you. Really."

"Of course, let me know if you need anything else."

Once she hangs up, Ava is left with only one recurring thought.

What the fuck just happened?

_____

Ava gets the all-clear after an hour of treatment and tries to brush off the doctor's surprise that she's not doing as bad as someone who had heavy smoke inhalation less than twenty-four hours ago. Her healing factor had kicked in and she would be perfectly fine by the end of the day. So, she goes to Deborah's house once she's discharged. It's huge, obviously. The biggest she's ever seen with her own eyes. A literal mansion. It's not in the heart of the city, but in a neighborhood she thinks is worth more than she could make over several lifetimes.

She's dropped off at the gate by an Uber and types in the code Deborah had texted her. It's a short walk further inside and she knocks on the door.

A woman opens it so fast she wonders if she's been standing there just waiting, "Ava?"

Ava nods, putting on her most polite smile, "Yes, hi. Deborah sent me over."

The woman nods, opening the door further for her enter, "Yes, she let me know to prepare a room for you. Come in. I'm Josefina, the house manager."

"Nice to meet you," Ava holds out a hand, immediately regretting it but pushing through her own awkwardness as Josefina shakes it. "I hope this wasn't too much trouble?"

Josefina shakes her head, walking briskly ahead of her. "It wasn't. Don't worry." She leads her through what Ava can only describe as a maze of hallways until they make it to what will be her temporary room. It's…almost completely covered in pictures of Deborah.

"Please make yourself at home," Josefina says like this is all normal, "Kitchen is to the left and down the hall and you have your own bathroom. Let me or any other staff know if there's anything else we can do for you, okay?"

Ava gawks at the decorations, not meeting Josefina's eyes, "Uh, yeah, okay. Thanks."

When Josefina leaves, she forces herself to look away and sets her worn backpack down on the freshly cleaned sheets. With everything else gone, she realizes she has to buy new clothes. It gives her a pang in her heart. Just yesterday she was on her couch watching Love Island in between texts with her group chat with Jimmy and Kayla.

Shit, she realizes suddenly, I have to tell them what happened.

As her brain brushes past her bout of sadness, she actually calls her mom first and explains everything as quickly as possible. Her mom is devastated on her behalf and also worried about her new living situation.

"Are you sure it's safe?"

Ava sits on the edge of her new bed, "Yes, mom. I promise. She's actually being super nice about everything."

She can hear the sound of something sizzling. She's probably cooking, "And you're sure you're okay? The doctor's looked over every part of you? Oh, did you ask about that pimple you—"

"Okay!" Ava cuts her off, regretting telling her mom anything ever, "They gave me some meds to take for a few days," Ava says. It's not a lie exactly. They had prescribed her some pills she can't pronounce, but she doubts she would need them after today. But it helps get her mom to calm down.

"That's good. Make sure you take them. You'll call if you start feeling bad?"

"Yes, mom. I think I just need to take a chill day. Everything kinda…sucks right now."

Her mom sighs, "Okay, I'll let you go for now. Stay safe. I mean it."

Ava says her goodbyes and moves on to texting Jimmy and Kayla that she's not coming into work today and why. Jimmy is, as expected, extremely worried and Kayla sends her a million 'get well soon' gifs as if she's fighting for her life in the hospital and not experiencing minor smoke inhalation effects.

Jimmy: It's good Deborah gave you a break. If there's ever a time to use your mental health days, it's now.

Ava: yeah, she was weirdly supportive. kinda off putting cause it's deborah, you know?

Jimmy: She can have her moments when you least expect them. I'm just glad you're okay.

Kayla: Ok im looking at the best flowers to send to someone in the hospital and im seeing carnations. ava, thoughts? u getting carnal in there?

Ava: kayla, i am not in the hospital. i told you i'm staying with deborah

Kayla: Ohhh

Kayla: What's her address?

_____

Ava spends the rest of her day either napping to catch up for the lack of sleep she got during the night and crying as the grief hits her every couple of hours. It's a lot. She doesn't leave her room. Mostly because she forgot where Josefina told her the kitchen was, so she's starving by the time Deborah is home. She does meet Deborah's two corgi's, Barry and Cara. They seem unsure about her presence as they trot by her door, but she thinks they'll come around to her in time. And she had a lot of time now. 

She eats her sandwich from Delmar's with a fervor. Deborah had been nice enough to stop there on her way home and bring it straight to the bedroom.

"God. You eat like it's your last meal on death row."

Ava pauses briefly to swallow, "I mean, you brought me their largest size."

"Because I knew that's what you would've wanted."

"And I thank you for that," Ava wipes the corner of her mouth with a napkin. She gestures to the room, "And for this. Although, the pictures are slightly terrifying."

Deborah raises and eyebrow at her, hands on her hips, "Are you saying I'm terrifying? It's decorations."

"It's egotistical. And yes, you are terrifying, but not as much as when I first met you. Now I know you're just a softie on the inside."

Deborah scoffs, "Glad to know you're feeling better."

Ava takes another bite, "Honestly, I'm probably still, like, processing. I think. Losing everything I own isn't something I ever expected to happen. I guess that's why it's called shock."

Deborah's eyes soften as she's reminded of the reality for Ava. "I am sorry this happened to you," Her eyes flit down to Ava's hands, bandaged now from the doctor visit, "Were you near the flames?"

"I helped a few people get out of their apartments. Plus a dog," Ava admits with a shrug. A half-truth.

"Of course you did," Deborah sighs but she doesn't sound as annoyed as she probably wants to. "I'm sure they and the dog appreciated it."

Ava's appetite suddenly shifts at the mention of helping other people. She's glad she's done with her food. "I know some didn't make it. And I just—I guess I feel bad. Like I could have helped some more. Somehow," She laughs humorlessly, "I dunno. It's stupid, I guess."

"It's not," Deborah assures her, hand coming up to cover one of Ava's bandaged ones. It makes them sting a little more, but Ava doesn't really care. She's had worse things happen to her. "It's…brave, actually."

Ava rolls her eyes, heat filling her face. She looks at a picture frame of Deborah at some awards show to fixate on something else. "You don't have to make me feel better."

"I'm not. I mean, I am, but I'm not doing it out of pure pity."

"Then why? Why let me stay here when you could've just paid for a hotel or something?"

"Because I care about you," Deborah says, spitting it out like this has been hidden inside her the whole time. "As much as I hate to admit it, we've become friends. Ergo, I care," She wrinkles her nose, annoyed by how Ava beams at her words, "Ugh, please stop. I'm never telling you anything ever again."

Ava only grins harder, "You like me." She elongates the words in a sing-song voice like they're school girls discussing some random crush.

Deborah waves a hand toward her, "Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts."

They spend some more time just talking. Deborah fills her in on what she missed at work. They get so wrapped in conversation that Ava has to be the one to realize how late it's getting. So, Deborah tells her where her room is located if she needs anything and bids her good night.

_____

Breakfast the next morning is a simple eggs and bacon which Ava usually likes to eat with matcha, but she doesn't have her usual station for making it. Because, again, mostly everything she owned was burned to a crisp. She does however open up the news on her phone which is just Twitter but still. She catches a few articles on the building fire and the police and firefighters working together to figure out what exactly caused it.

Josefina walks in as she eats, greeting her with a wave. Ava smiles at her, "Morning."

"How did you sleep?"

Ava shrugs, "Fine. It's still, you know, a little weird to not be in my own bed."

Josefina looks at her with sympathy, "I am very sorry for your loss, Ava."

Ava laughs nervously, "Oh, nobody I know died or anything. I don't know what Deborah told you."

"Oh, I know," Josefina says, getting to work on the coffee machine, "She told me your apartment building had a bad fire. That's still a loss. Even if it's not a person you loved. It was a place."

"Oh," Ava says, "I guess so, yeah." She feels a lump forming in her throat. There was still real sense of grief bubbling up inside her, waiting to burst. She realizes in that moment that she doesn't want it to. She pushes back her stool and places her used plate in the sink to wash it quickly because she wants the comfort of her new bedroom now.

"I got it," Josefina tells her, moving to wash it instead.

"Are you sure?"

Josefina nods, gentle smile on her face. It makes Ava think of her mom for some reason. The thought only makes the mess of emotions in her head and chest hurt even more. So, she turns to walk away.

Out in the hallway, she bumps into someone because she's keeping her head down.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She apologizes to the other person, looking up to see Damian. Right, she might be seeing him around more often than she already does.

"It's fine," He assures her, "Deborah let me know you're going to be staying here for the time being?"

Ava nods eagerly, "Yeah, my place kinda burned down," She tries to joke, hoping her sadness isn't so visible in her eyes.

Damian gives her a somewhat pitying look, but he doesn't comment on whatever she's going through. Ava is thankful for it. He excuses himself to get back to work. She returns to her room. As she flops back down on the softest bed she's ever had, she can't help but think this might be good for her. Change. Even at a cost.

Right?