WHEN I WALKED TO THE BOY'S HOUSE, EVERYTHING FELT WRONG. Though, that was to be expected, with the amount of regret and grief I felt towards everything that had happened in mere days. It no longer felt like a safe haven, but just another cage to pretend in, where I'd have to convince someone to let me fly and share my voice again. While it was better than the hell that was Inga's temporary apartment, it wasn't by much.

The boy probably hated me. Nay, that was an understatement; he no doubt despised the very ground I walked upon, and I couldn't blame him for that or anything he was feeling against me. He was so innocent and so pure of heart and so caring, that any little rejection meant anything good in his world came to a crashing halt and he was left drowning in the sorrow that he'd never share with anyone. I had seen a few similar cases at the Academy, where they lost a friend, an ally, and everything fell apart, so much that soon they joined the dead in an everlasting but cold embrace. They lost focus and hope for the world, and though some were able to pretend like everything was fine, anyone with a brain could see the glassed-over look in their eyes. It had been like they were in a totally different world and lost all hope and want to care.

Of course, those were things that were much more severe than him. The death of a loved one was much worse than a rejection from a mean-spirited bitch from Canada, but on a lower level, it did make sense to me. And while I didn't trust emotions or truly understand the process the teenagers used, I did sympathize with the pain I had caused him, for it was a pain that ran deep in my own blood, too. If I hadn't had to do it, I would have done anything to make him feel better.  I wanted still to make things better, to make him smile once more and make his stupid jokes and not have him looking near-death, but I couldn't. I had a job to do, and one wrong move meant a thousand steps backwards.

It took a few long seconds for me to gather the strength to actually knock. My hand shook as it pounded a sharp beat, and I cursed at the weakness plaguing me; I had let this world affect me, and it was taking an effect on every bit of me, forcing me to pay the price. The fact that such a small movement as knocking on a broken boy's door shook me was shameful. I was growing weaker by the day.

"Emily, hi," his aunt gushed, ushering me into the small space. She looked startled at my presence but quickly masked it with a smile, crossing her arms over herself. "What a surprise, I think - was-"

"-Peter wasn't expecting me, no," I butted in. I wasn't eager for a long conversation. Not with her, and not that day. "I actually just came over to discuss some homework, actually? He said I could come if I needed help."

Aunt May nodded and a little light reignited in her eyes. "Sure, of course - he's just in there. Will it take a long time? There's no problem, just - well, we had plans."

"It is fine, I, um, won't be here long. It's a very quick question." I cursed as a rebuttal to my words came into my head, and smiled brightly. "Couldn't be answered by text."

She nodded, though looking as though she was questioning my logic, but I didn't hesitate to explain. I skirted away and headed to his door, rapping furiously as my heart pounded out warnings upon warnings for me to hurry. A muffled 'who is it' echoed through the frame of the door, and without hesitation, I responded, "it's me, I have a...homework question."

A long pause was my only reply for a few, agonizingly long minutes before a heavy sigh resounded and it swung open. The boy stood on the other side, hair a mess and dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that read a dumb periodic table joke, a slightly pissed expression on his face. "Is it important?"

"Yes, it is." I bit down on my lip, "I wouldn't want to fail the assignment, I figured you wouldn't either?"

My analogy wasn't sound, but it was enough to make him sigh once more and move over to let me in. The door swung shut with a tiny click, and he leaned against it, watching me with the saddest face I'd ever seen him wear. "What is it?"

"You need to stop, okay?" I had dropped my sweet as sugar act and allowed the edge of worry creep into my voice. "You need to ignore the stuff outside - just be Peter. Right now, it's not safe for you to be the other guy. Just be Peter, at least until the year ends. You have to. Please."

"Wait, what-"

"-I know you want to be a hero," I continued, gesticulating wildly in the air as I spoke, "but it's not good. Not right now. It's best if you just finish this year as you and go about your life like you would have without the shit that makes you a hero. I know you think you're strong, and you are, but you're not strong enough for everything."

While his eyes widened in slight shock at my urgent words, he gave no other sign of care in his face, sliding a weary hand down his face. "Why? What are you trying to do - what does that even mean?"

"I can't tell you, I just need you to listen to me! Please!"

"Right." Peter slid past me, an angry expression morphing innocent features. "What exactly is it you want from me, Emily?"

"Excuse me?"

He sighed. "First, you lead me on, then you say you don't want anything to do with me - which, gotta be honest, really hurt - and now you're here telling me to just lay down and play dead? Are you going to pull the trigger, too?"

"Peter!"

"What?"

Tears pushed against the emotional dams I had built, and I fought back the urge to let them fall - I couldn't break, not now. "This is for your own good. I just need you to lay low and just let everything around you go on until I say it's safe. Otherwise, you run the risk of getting hurt. I don't want New York to lose Spiderman, and I don't want the world to lose Peter Parker. I...I don't want to lose you."

"What does that mean?"

My voice lowered to a stuttered, hoarse whisper as I stepped closer, flinching as he moved away. "Look, Peter, I can't tell you but you have to believe me - the people going for you are...this guy you're up against, this is not just a bad person, he's something much bigger than a guy like you. You need to tell someone - hey, maybe that Stark guy or something, and -"

"How would you know that?" he questioned, with a bitter edge to his own mutter. "How the hell would you know that? How would you know that this guy is going to try and hurt me? Is this some sort of trick?"

"What, no! I'm-" I cut myself off with a sigh. "I'm just trying to help you out here, is all. Please, you have to believe me!"

Peter didn't look happy. "I don't have to believe you; why would I? After all this - there's no point." He gestured to the door and followed his own motion, opening it up. "Thanks for coming."

"Peter-"

"-hope I gave you a clear enough answer," he gritted out, his normally soft eyes bitter and hard. "Goodbye, Emily."

My feet dragged behind me as I headed to the door, and I cast one last look back before I left, hoping I'd see at least one trace of hope in the boy's eyes. "Peter, I promise, this is for your own good. Please listen to me!"

"Right."

My hand lingered on the wood as I stared at the closed door, all hope promptly fleeing my body. I had tried, and I had failed, and now, there was no chance of convincing him - not easily, at least. I was now truly alone in my arduous task and my walk of shame through hell.

...

"Why would you do that?"

I coughed and wiped the blood dribbling down my face, forcing a bloody smile to fall from broken lips. No words came out, but the slight grin was enough to make her angrier; I shuffled away from her claws but didn't fear her fists anymore, not really. My mind was made up, and while it hadn't gone exactly to plan, my visit had done enough.

"You're a идиот," she continued, slicing at the exposed skin with a glare unwavering. "You are dead! You should be dead!"

"If...you kill me," I struggled, slipping away from her hands, "it's all...over, isn't it?"

Inga showed no sign of surprise at my words. I didn't expect her to. "You don't need to worry about any of that - just do what you were told, otherwise your precious friend won't be the only body laid out on the table."

"So you're threatening me?"

"I'm simply informing you."

I knew exactly what she meant, and the price I'd be forced to pay if I managed to carry out my mission the way I needed to. It was a consequence I had been aware of since I had joined the Academy; anyone who even toed the line of insubordination didn't deserve to be a part of it, and would be cast out or thrown away, depending on how merciful the lider was feeling. In my case, I doubted that compassion would be on my side, and my punishment would be as cruel as it could be. Inga meant what she said, word for word; my life, in the end, would be sacrificed if I succeeded.

Wiping a bead of blood from broken lips, I stood up once more and didn't hesitate a second as I stared her into the eyes. "Your threats aren't going to stop me."

"No," she replied, a smile creeping across a hollow face, "but there are lots of other forces that could. You're walking a thin line, Freya, and I would advise for you to choose the path you want to take now before someone gets hurt."

"Hurt me, kill me, break me into little pieces and throw me in a river - don't you see? I don't care about what you do to me. My life means absolutely nothing and you and I both know that. Even if I succeed, it doesn't matter - I don't give a shit about what happens to me."

Inga only looked more and more pleased. "Sure, but you do care about the boy. Do you not?"

"You can't touch him."

"The only instruction was to have him there dead or alive." She sauntered away, slim hips swaying as she continued her threat. "They didn't specify how alive, did they?"

"You're a bitch! A coward! A monster!"

In an instant, she had whirled around and was gripping my shoulders, the anger I thought had disappeared rearing its ugly head. "I'm trying to help you, Freya. I'm trying to help you survive; you don't understand what you're doing, or who you're pointing your fingers at. I'd suggest being more careful with your words."

"Don't you see," I gasped, "that I don't care about what happens to myself? You could save me and treat me like a queen but that does not excuse the fact that you're willing to sacrifice an innocent boy so you could get a paltry fortune. Face it, Inga, you're a coward who enjoys terrorizing children to make them feel better about themselves."

I thought she was going to slap me; her hand itched and tightened against my shoulder and I had already begun to flinch away. However, while she was angry, her eyes didn't look as they had - instead, they held a hidden emotion I couldn't understand, one that had never been seen on her before. She let go and stepped back, still not looking away. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I know plenty."

She nodded, slowly. "Okay. Go finish your work. You can eat later."

Even after she had skulked away, I stood almost paralyzed in anxious curiosity. That had been a side to Inga I had never seen before; my words had hit home somewhere inside her blackened heart and for once, I had been on the offensive over her. She seemed almost human, for a split second in time.

My eyes fell from the door she had retreated behind to the gun that laid perfectly placed on her desk, almost as though it had been put there for me to see on purpose. I didn't dare touch it, not when Inga was so near and the stakes were potentially so high, but as I stood alone in the deafening silence and with eyes glued to the deadly weapon, the last part of my plan fell perfectly into place.

There is a huge hint to something that will come into play in that last part of the story and I really, REALLY hope someone picked up on it because otherwise I'm just going to feel even more...I'm not sure. Either way, you'll figure it out in the end, but just keep that in mind that something happened there that I hope you saw, wink wonk.

Just a heads up; essentially, the next three-four chapters [after chapter 40] will be very long and very fast paced and they will all sort of end with a cliffhanger. I originally had it only in two, but it was 10,000 words and I enjoy making you all suffer so it's now split up and you will have to see what happens after each one. I hope you guys are ready - though I've been told you're 100% not at all, me too bud - because shit's gonna hit the fan and it's about to go wild real quick. I mean, it already is, but...after chapter 40, everything is going to hell in the best/worst way possible.

Thank you for reading!