CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Best Of Both Worlds

━━━━━━🕷━━━━━━

FOR THE SECOND TIME in two weeks, Cecelia's parents tried to convince her to stay home from school. She was still technically on vocal rest—something the doctor had recommended over the weekend for her bruised throat and Cecelia had proceeded to ignore—and her shoulder was hurting her enough to make writing a chore. Plus, Mom was even clingier than she'd been after the supposed mugging, even though every time she looked into her daughter's eyes, she seemed one second away from bursting into tears.

Just like last time, though, Cecelia tried to argue her way into going. She'd spent the weekend and all day yesterday lying in bed, watching YouTube on her laptop. Funnily enough, most of the videos she'd found herself clicking on were gaming videos. Games like Stardew Valley or Animal Crossing were distant enough from reality that she could nearly forget not only that Richard was in jail, awaiting trial, but that most of the people in her school now knew a modification of what had happened. She'd already received several messages on Instagram about it. Even though a lot of them were trying to be friendly, she'd deleted them all.

Of course, her ten hours of YouTube eventually led her down the rabbit hole of her suggestions, and she actually ended up being recommended a video by Jules Playz Games. For an eight-year-old, her brother's videos were surprisingly high quality.

She'd also eventually stumbled across a grainy cellphone video of the warehouse collapsing, but she'd only been able to get three seconds in before her stomach began to churn. She went back to playthroughs of a new Super Mario Brothers game after that.

Anyway, it had only taken a day of that before Cecelia had been so jittery that she would do anything to leave the apartment. Then she'd gotten a text from Liz that told her she was moving to Oregon, and she begged her parents to at least be able to say goodbye.

They settled for a compromise. Cecelia missed her first two classes and went in halfway through lunch, when the fewest number of students possible roamed the hallways. She'd been tempted to blend, blend, blend, all bulky sweaters and gray sweatpants, but Alex advised her to walk around like nothing had happened. That was certainly a challenge for a girl suffering from Generalized Anxiety Disorder, but Cecelia tried, anyway. She did keep her hair down, covering most of the damage on her neck, but she dressed to impress—leather jacket, blue T-shirt, jeans.

Regardless, a few students still whispered as she passed them. And Cecelia may not have had Peter's freaky super-hearing, but she could still guess the gist of what they said. It was difficult to ignore, no matter how hard she tried.

Fortunately, sitting at her usual table in the cafeteria proved to be a blessing. It was just Alex and Christine there, like it always was, and both of them were considerate enough not to bring up the elephant in the room. Christine had packed three thermoses of macaroni and cheese, and Cecelia ate her share while listening to her complain about Ned.

"So, my mom goes into the computer lab because she sees the lights on, and there's Ned. I mean, I thought he was going after Peter, but he's just sitting there." Christine stabbed her fork into her macaroni and cheese with narrowed eyes. "She asks him what he's doing there, since, you know, there's a dance going on and I'm kind of his date, and what does he say? He says he's looking at porn."

Cecelia, knowing full well what Ned had been doing the night of Homecoming, said nothing. Still, 'Guy in the Chair' business or not, he shouldn't have just up and left Christine. Especially after he'd had a crush on her for ages.

"Are you serious?" Alex asked. "I mean, Ned doesn't seem like the kind of guy to do that. And especially not after abandoning his date."

"Did he talk to you?" Cecelia asked, trying not to appear like she wasn't paying attention. She was, she really was, and she was grateful that Christine had tried to make things seem normal. Though she doubted all of it was an act. Given the way she gripped her fork—like it was a shovel instead of an eating utensil—it was obvious she was genuinely upset, too.

"Yeah. He texted me like, ten times," Christine said nonchalantly, twisting open the cap to her water bottle. "And left me a few voicemails. And tried to talk to me during Physics. I told him it's going to take more than that to forgive him."

"Good on you," Alex said. "Make that boy work to earn you back."

Christine laughed, though there was no real humour behind it. Cecelia rubbed her friend's back and glanced over at Ned's table. He was, as per usual, sitting with Peter and Michelle. His head was down, so he didn't catch her eye, but Peter did. He gave her a smile and a wave. Cecelia tentatively waved back.

After lunch, Cecelia was walking to Phys Ed (fortunately, she had a doctor's note, so she wouldn't actually be required to participate) when she finally found Liz in the hallway. She was trailing her mother, who held a box in her arms containing all her school possessions. A few of her friends stopped her to give her goodbye hugs, which made the trek to the front doors incredibly sluggish.

"Hey, Liz," she called out. Alex, who'd been at her side, squeezed her arm and gave her an encouraging nod. He continued to make his way to class while Cecelia went after Liz.

Liz turned around, her teary eyes a stark contrast to her usual flawless appearance. When she noticed Cecelia, her shoulders slumped, and she sprung forward to envelop her in a hug.

"Hey," she said into Cecelia's hair.

"Hey," Cecelia responded. "I just... um. Came to say goodbye."

"I figured as much." Liz broke the embrace and held Cecelia out at an arm's length. "How are you doing?"

Cecelia shrugged. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Liz wiped her eyes. "Well, it's about what you'd expect. Though I'm guessing it's the same for you."

"Yeah." Cecelia ducked her head. "I think I'm... um. I think I'm going to start seeing a therapist soon."

"Mom's already set one up for me in Oregon," Liz said. "It just sucks that I have to leave everyone behind here."

"Well, you have my number," Cecelia said. "I'm always there if you need someone to talk to. If, um, you can stand doing that."

"I already told you it's not your fault," Liz insisted. "Even though I wanted to blame you for not telling me everything, after I heard what happened to you... I know you didn't want any of it. So, I need you to believe me, okay?"

Cecelia shrugged again. "I'll try."

"I promise to keep in touch. Maybe even send a postcard. Though I don't really know what's in Oregon, so..."

"They've got a few cool museums there, at least."

"Well, I guess I've got that to look forward to."

"Liz!" Mrs. Allen called. "We've got to go."

Liz glanced at her mother, then back to Cecelia. She pulled her in for another hug, tight and warm. Cecelia breathed it in.

"I'm gonna miss you," she said. "Keep doing what you're doing. The AcaDec team needs you."

"Well, Oregon needs you, too," Cecelia said. "It just doesn't know it yet."

Liz let out a watery laugh, then finally let go of Cecelia. She gave her a final wave goodbye before joining her mother at the end of the hallway. The two of them pushed open the front doors, letting in the afternoon sun. When they exited, it was with a sense of finality.

Cecelia stood there for a little while, watching the front doors as if expecting a change. When there was none, she finally turned, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, and headed over to Phys Ed.

Well, at least she didn't have to deal with a full changeroom today.

A FEW DAYS LATER, Cecelia was back in school full-time and grateful to discover that things were nearly back to normal. Classes were blissfully boring, and Cecelia fully immersed herself in them, staying more on top of her homework than she had the entire school year. She'd returned to robotics club and had already started planning for the upcoming competition in February. She spent a few nights out with Alex, Christine, and occasionally the members of the Academic Decathlon team without worrying about the phone in her pocket. She aced her AP Calculus test and got an A- on her Spanish oral presentation. She finished her Studio Ghibli movie marathon with When Marnie Was There and totally didn't cry.

Everything had changed, but at the same time, nothing had. Still, a weight had certainly been taken off of Cecelia's shoulders.

Today, after the bell signalled the end of the school day, Cecelia headed to the library for the first Academic Decathlon meeting since Nationals. They'd typically do practices in the cafeteria, but one of the other clubs had taken over it today, bringing them here. Mr. Harrington had found them a table just large enough for them all to squeeze in.

When Cecelia made her way over, she was greeted by a smiling Peter. He gestured to an empty seat beside him—Ned was sitting across from him, and Flash, for whatever reason, was on his other side—and Cecelia took it.

Okay. She had to admit that this part was new. Though it wasn't like she was complaining. Apparently, Peter Parker was actually super cool to hang around.

Alex sat across from Mr. Harrington, and Christine went beside Michelle. Ned shot her a hopeful look, but Christine kept her gaze firmly on the AcaDec coach. It was obvious that she still hadn't forgiven him yet.

Mr. Harrington set down their Nationals trophy on the table as a greeting. "Congratulations, Decathlon National Champions!"

The team burst into applause, and he joined in. When it died down, he gave a nervous chuckle. "I'm gonna have to put this back in the trophy case soon, but just for motivation right now at this practice... I'm a little ahead of the game, but we will need a new team captain next year. So, I am appointing Michelle."

Michelle looked up, startled, and everyone burst into applause again. Cecelia clapped until her hands grew sore, proud of her. After all, it had been Michelle who'd scored the final correct answer and won Nationals for them. Even with her laid-back, slightly shy attitude, she certainly had the guts to lead the team on.

"Uh, thank you," Michelle eventually said. "My—my friends call me MJ."

"I thought you didn't have any friends," Ned pointed out.

"I... didn't," Michelle—MJ—said, looking down. Christine beamed and threw her arms around her neck.

"Protest buddies for the win," she cheered.

Beside Cecelia, Peter's phone buzzed. He slid it out of his pocket and looked down at the cracked screen. Cecelia couldn't see what message he'd gotten, but she could tell it was a surprise based on the way his eyes widened.

"I, uh, gotta go," he said, already gathering his things.

"Hey, where you going?" MJ asked. Peter pointed to the doors leading out of the library, and MJ leaned forward. "What are you hiding, Peter?"

Peter stared at her, adopting a deer-in-headlights expression. MJ kept her steely glare for a second more, then laughed. "I'm just kidding. I don't care. Bye."

Peter slid out of his seat right as MJ, already adopting her role as team captain, started running some drills. He glanced back at the table once, meeting Cecelia's gaze. She raised her eyebrows at him, mouthing Who is it?

He shrugged. Tell you later, he mouthed back. Cecelia squinted at him, but he was already leaving. With a sigh, she turned back to the table, readying herself to launch into drills. Because, if she was being honest, as much as the competitions scared her, she'd missed these practices.

It felt like they'd barely started before Mr. Harrington was dismissing them. MJ really was a great captain. Her no-nonsense attitude wrangled those who might have been distracted (cough, cough, Charles) into check. Cecelia actually gave her a high five before leaving with Alex, and she managed a grin.

She and Alex took the subway home, sharing a pair of earbuds. Coldplay's Mylo Xyloto album was their soundtrack for the ride, making the argument that broke out between two white moms in the car next to theirs even more entertaining. They disembarked, then walked the two blocks it took to get to their apartment.

When they arrived, Dad was waiting by the door. Given that he was usually watching television or helping Mom cook dinner at this time, it was out of the ordinary to just have him standing there. Especially with such a strange expression on his face.

Alex noticed it, too. "Hi, Dad," he said cautiously, unlacing his shoes. "Everything all right?"

"Uh... yeah." Dad shifted from foot to foot. He was wearing his dinosaur slippers again. "Um, Cecelia, a package came for you."

"A package?" Cecelia repeated. She hadn't ordered anything lately.

"It's in your room," Dad said. "I had to keep it away from Jules and his grabby hands. He almost tore it right open. I think he thought it was his Silver Play Button."

"He hasn't got enough subscribers for that yet," Alex pointed out.

"Yeah, I know."

With that, Dad turned and headed back into the living room. Cecelia and Alex exchanged a bewildered look.

"Do you know what this is about?" Alex asked. "Be honest."

"No," Cecelia admitted. "I have no idea."

Both confused and curious, she headed into her room to see why her dad had been acting so strangely. The package he was talking about was lying neatly on her bed, address and information facing up. It was around the size of her backpack, and fairly heavy. When Cecelia picked it up, several things rattled inside.

She glanced down at the address, then froze. Right above tiny text reading Made with 100% recyclable material was a very familiar logo. One that, at this point, could be recognized all around the world.

Stark Industries.

Needless to say, Cecelia was anxious to tear it open.

There were two things in the package. One was a thick white envelope, and the other was a chunky paper bag. Cecelia took the envelope out first, slitting it open with the gold letter opener she kept in her Iron Man mug. She unfolded the crisp piece of paper inside with trembling fingers.

To Ms. Cecelia Olivier—

Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Stark Internship Program in the Science and Technology Division. Upon your acceptance of this offer, you may begin your internship with the Stark Industries company on October 1st, 2016. You will get all of the benefits of a regular employee, including a Stark insurance plan and unlimited data.

To indicate your acceptance, please sign and date this letter in the spaces provided below. If you have any further queries or any other information is required, please contact us at [email protected].

"Holy shit," Cecelia whispered. That was about all she could come up with at the moment.

There was something written on the paper bag in thick, permanent marker. Cecelia pulled it out of the box to read, her heart hammering.

Your mistakes don't define you. I believe in you, kid.

-TS

She had a feeling she knew what Tony had given her now.

The first thing that came out of the bag was the boots. They were a little chunky—likely what had been weighing the entire package down—and painted in a sleek silver a few shades lighter than Cecelia's old pair. Black stripes ran up the sides, and white buttons gleamed on the front. A Sticky Note was attached to one of the heel caps. The words printed on it were in the same handwriting as the bag.

Bare minimum modifications made. Did your early designs take inspiration from a certain superhero?

Cecelia let out a watery laugh, then slipped the boots onto her feet. They fit perfectly, moulding right into her skin. She didn't question how Iron Man knew her shoe size.

The mask was next. It was the same silver as the boots and went a little further up Cecelia's face than her old one had, hooking over her ears. The exterior was metal, like Cecelia's old one, but the inside had a layer of padding that made it far more comfortable to wear. She flexed her jaw, marvelling at its lack of movement.

There were gloves, too. Cecelia hadn't had gloves last time. These ones were warm but thin, still allowing Cecelia to make calls or send text messages on her phone if she needed to. She held out her hands, then experimentally dipped them through the desk. The gloves held.

Last but not least... Cecelia pulled her suit out of the bag.

It was beautiful. This was the biggest change to her old Phantom suit, which had been designed to blend in. Cecelia was a ghost, after all, and, unlike Spider-Man, she didn't do business in the open.

Maybe she would now.

Again, it was silver, made of a similar—but likely more high quality—fabric to her old suit. It was long-sleeved, ending right at her wrist, and with long pants, too. What really made Cecelia suck in a breath, though, was the logo emblazoned on the suit's chest and back. A black circle outlined in white, with a ghost sitting within. The two logos connected by stripes of black that went over both shoulders and crawled up to the neck. There, the suit stretched out into a black hood.

"Oh, Creator," she breathed. This wasn't a suit for a villain. It wasn't meant for a girl who operated in the shadows, staying just out of reach of the law.

This was a suit meant for a hero. Someone... someone like Spider-Man.

Cecelia slipped it on. It fit in all of the right places without purposefully accentuating her waist or ass. The hood cast shadows across her face, shrouding the only potentially recognizable feature shown—her eyes. She stretched experimentally, testing its flexibility. There was nothing she would change about it.

Cecelia nearly started crying, wrapping her arms across her waist. It was unclear how Tony Stark had known what her suit looked like in the first place, but she wasn't exactly complaining. She'd never felt so... seen before. And not in the bad, anxiety-flaring way. It was in a good way, which she hadn't even realized before today existed.

She took a breath in through her nose. She adjusted her hood. A smile grew on her face.

Peter was right. She was never going to be a villain.

"DOES SPIDER-MAN HAVE a partner? That's the hot question spreading through Queens like wildfire today after our favourite web-slinging superhero was spotted with what appears to be a newcomer in town. In a silver suit, a hood, and a mask over their face, this new vigilante doesn't seem to be any keener than Spider-Man at the idea of revealing their identity, but it's not like they mind being in the spotlight, either. Several videos have captured this hero—who, locals report, has been referred to as 'Phantom'—aiding Spider-Man in stopping an armed robbery on Roberta's Diner this evening. Thanks to Spider-Man and Phantom, there were no reported casualties, and all three of the gunmen were arrested and taken into custody."

"One of them was a woman, actually," Cecelia corrected, taking another sip of her strawberry lemonade. She was sitting cross-legged on Peter's couch with a blanket thrown over her knees, eyes glued to the television. Instead of the costume she'd adorned only a few hours earlier, she was now wearing a NASA T-shirt and a vintage windbreaker. No one would have recognized her if they'd tried.

Peter, standing on the ceiling and attempting to drink his own lemonade upside-down, nodded. As per usual, he was wearing a dumb science shirt—this one had an H20 molecule with Molecool scrawled over it. Cecelia would never admit it, but she found his wardrobe so damn endearing.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Don't be sexist, newscasters."

"Currently, not much is known about Phantom. The public has not yet discovered the extent of their enhancement, or whether they're a man or a woman—"

"What about neither?" Cecelia asked. "There's a whole gender binary, you know."

"Yeah," Peter agreed. "Don't be transphobic, newscasters."

"—but it is likely that, if this vigilante is to stay, more will be discovered about them. Now, onto other news: an eight-year-old boy recently acquired one-hundred-thousand followers on his YouTube channel, Jules Playz Games, making him the youngest in the city to receive a Silver Play Button. Jules Olivier, of Queens, started his gaming channel when he was just seven years old, and quickly rose to popularity with his adorable personality and competitive nature."

"What?" Cecelia sputtered. Peter fell off the ceiling, landing in a heap on the floor. His strawberry lemonade spilled all over the carpet, and he groaned.

"Ow. What was that about?"

"I'm not the only Olivier on the news," Cecelia said. "That's my brother."

A smiling Jules appeared on-screen. "Yeah! Take that, Cecelia and Alex!" he cheered. "You never thought I'd get there. But I did!"

"Oh my God." Peter stifled a laugh in his hand. "I guess everyone's getting famous, now."

Cecelia leaned back, rolling her eyes. Still, she couldn't break the smile that had formed on her face. Not because of Jules publicly calling her out on national television (how had Mom and Dad allowed that?), but because between that and the accounts of Phantom, the attention Cecelia was getting was, for once, more good than bad. Eyes may have been on her, but they weren't judgmental. Cecelia didn't need to disappear anymore.

She checked her watch. She'd been at Peter's for an hour, now—she'd told Mom and Dad she had gone over for dinner when she'd really been on patrol—but her curfew was rapidly approaching. She stood up, stretching out her back.

"I've got to go," she said. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" Peter agreed. Then: "Oh! Also! Here!"

Cecelia's phone buzzed in her pocket. For once, she didn't jump at the sensation. Instead, she just pulled it out and checked the notification.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hi!!!

"Is that you?" Cecelia asked. "Just kidding, of course it is. You text like how you talk."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, cocking his head. Creator. He really was a golden retriever.

"Never mind. How did you get my number?"

"Christine."

"Christine?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you ask Christine for my number and not me?"

"I honestly have no idea. But you finally have my number! We don't have to text over Instagram anymore!"

"And why would we be texting?"

"Because we're friends!" Peter said enthusiastically.

"Are we?"

Peter's shoulders slumped. "Are we not?"

"Creator." Cecelia slugged him on the arm. With all of his super-strength, Peter probably didn't even feel it, but he rubbed the spot, anyway. "I'm just kidding. I don't know why you took me in, but yeah, we're friends now. It's crazy the ways a building dropping on you can bring people together."

"Ugh, don't joke about that." He flopped onto the couch. Sitting there, in his stupid science T-shirt and hot dog socks, he looked young enough that there really was no chance that anyone would ever believe he was Spider-Man.

Which was fortunate. Peter may have declined Tony Stark's offer to become an Avenger—he'd told her the whole story an hour after Cecelia had gotten her new suit, and she'd done nothing but sit there in disbelief—but there were still enemies that would have a field day if they knew who he really was. Toomes wasn't a problem—Cecelia knew him well enough to know he'd be grateful enough that Peter had saved Liz's life to keep his mouth shut—and Richard... well, Richard had already dealt with one visit from Tony Stark. Even he wouldn't want to deal with another.

"Sorry," Cecelia said, changing Peter's contact name and selecting a picture for his icon. She chose a shot she'd taken at school a few days ago—he was giving a peace sign to the camera, his eyes half-lidded in a blink. Peter hated that picture, which was, of course, why Cecelia had saved it. "I really do have to go, though."

"Okay, bye! Thanks for coming over!"

"Bye," Cecelia said.

She didn't bother with the door, just stepped right through the wall and out into the hallway. There, she made her way downstairs and out to where the family car idled. It was such a small thing, but when Cecelia had been 'interning' for Richard, she hadn't had a curfew. It had always been trusted that he would bring her home on time.

Now, she had a strict time to come home. Just like normal teenagers did. Now, she hung out at other people's houses. Just like normal teenagers did.

And sure, normal teenagers didn't routinely dress up in costume and head out into the world to fight crime. Nor did they walk through walls as if they weren't an obstacle. But, if Cecelia was being honest, she didn't mind a healthy mix in the middle.

Cecelia Olivier. Phantom.

She could be both.

END OF ACT ONE.

━━━━━━🕷━━━━━━

HAVEN: and that's a wrap on act one! thank you SO MUCH for reading this far, and i hope you enjoyed this phase of cecelia's story! this was one of the most personal stories i ever wrote, both in terms of indigenous representation and anxiety representation, and i am honestly so proud of the result. i love cecelia so much, and i'm excited for her upcoming journeys.

fortunately, there's another act coming, which is covering infinity war and endgame! i hope you're ready!! :))

thanks for reading <3333

...

"Hi. I'm Captain America. You're probably expecting something good, right? A little fun scene to cap off this story, since it's what Marvel movies usually do? Well, today's lesson is that you don't always get what you wish for. Sometimes a hypothetical author is lazy and has no other ideas for a post-credit scene than the one given in the actual movie. Sometimes you find yourself unfortunately disappointed. That's the human experience, after all; disappointment. Learning to deal with disappointment, though... well, that's what I really want to teach you. Things aren't always going to go your way, and it's your choice on whether you want to be a good, understanding person about it or a complete jerk. My hope is that you choose the former. We could all really use some more kindness in this world."

"Cut!"

Steve Rogers, clad in his full Captain America regalia, wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. Meeting eyes with the director of yet another educational video, he asked, "What the heck is Marvel?"

END (FOR REAL THIS TIME).