I rest my head back against the bench of the bus as I try to get some rest. Dad has been texting me non-stop since the incident, and it's getting harder to pretend that I'm not still avoiding a supernova as the night of the accident keeps replaying in my head.

My phone buzzes, and I peek down to see another from Dad. "Just a heads up. Your mom is insisting on picking you up." I let out a sigh before the next one comes in. "I tried to convince her otherwise, but she wouldn't hear it. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Of course, bug."

Peter seems to notice the downward shift in my mood as he move over from his seat next to Ned to me. "Hey, your parents still freaking out?"

"Yep. Apparently they just got through arguing over who gets to pick me up when we get back." I shake my head and rub my temples. "Sometimes I just wish they would stop pretending to put up with each other for me."

"Do you mind if I asked what happened? I mean, they obviously cared about each other at some point if—if, you know—"

"They had me? That was a long time ago. I think they haven't forgiven each other for stuff that happened back then." I rest my head on Peter's shoulder with a sigh. "Right now, I just need to figure out how I'm gonna make it through this weekend."

"If you need a prison break, let me know?"

"Might take you up on that, Mr. 'I broke out of a secure SHIELD facility.'" Peter and I both laugh at the comment, and I can't help but glance over at him. "What actually happened? You never told me about it."

"It—it was nothing."

"Pete, you wound up locked in a secret agency's most private and secure storage. That doesn't just happen by accident." He avoids looking at me, and I get the feeling he doesn't want to tell me for my own protection. "Hey, I know it doesn't always seem like it, but I can handle myself. I just want to know what happened."

"I went after them." He sighs and tells me the full story of what happened. How he came face to face with Vulture again and got himself trapped in that container. I can't look at him as he recounts the full story, which he definitely seems to notice. "Hey, Lia. I'm fine, just like I promised."

"I know, but that doesn't mean things couldn't have gone differently." I whisper and curl in on myself. "Those guys are crazy dangerous, and one day you may not get out."

"Nothing happened, and you're not gonna lose me."

I nod and avoid talking about it further as we continue on in silence the rest of the way back to the school. ARTI keeps a rolling list of information on the criminals Peter—and I—have been tracking, and I try to find a way to get to them before anything else can happen or someone gets hurt. Or, you know, before the people behind the REM Trials try to get a hold of them for alien tech.

By the time we pull into the school's parking lot, there's already a collection of parents anxiously waiting for us to get off the bus and make sure for themselves that we're okay. I watch from my place inside as my teammates are wrapped in hugs and cry with their parents. It makes me wish that Dad was here to remind me that it's all okay.

Instead, I'm greeted by my mum, who shuffles her feet as I step off the bus. "Hey, sweetheart." She whispers and tugs me into a bone-crushing hug that I really don't want. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright." I try to hold back the tears as I speak. "Just want to get some rest."

"Alright, let's get you home then." She tells me, and I have to keep back a biting comment about how the apartment isn't nearly home. Peter offers me an encouraging smile as we both head our separate ways, and I take every ounce of support I can get before the inevitable interrogation.

"So," Mum starts in an already judge mental tone, "what exactly happened?"

"It was an accident, Mum, and for the record, I had nothing to do with it." I sigh and look out the window. "I honestly don't know what else to tell you."

"I just wanted to know what happened, Lia. You've been through a lot of stuff that can leave scars. It's only natural that you may slip at some point, and you know, all I want is for you to be happy and live a normal life." She must see the sour look on my face judging from the heavy sigh she lets out. "Look, I'm sorry if things haven't gone like we've planned since the accident, but you know Jim and I have been doing our best to help you."

"Yeah, sure." I sigh and explain myself as she gives me a puzzled look. "Sorry, I didn't realize being constantly analyzed and treated like an experiment was Jim trying his best. There's just something off about how he acts around me, Mum, even before everything with the accidents."

"What do you mean by that?" She questions with furrowed brows.

"After the first accident, he just changed. It was like he suddenly put me under a microscope—trying to figure out how I changed, and even now, he still won't look me in the eye or like I'm a person." I wrap my arms around myself as I continue, "I just—I feel like it's always been like that, but it's just gotten worse since the crash."

"That's not true, Lia. Jim loves you." She says, but it sounds like she's trying to convince herself too. "He just doesn't know how to connect with you after everything that happened."

"You sure it's not just because he blames me for it?" The comment makes my Mum look at me like she's trying to burn a whole in the side of my head. "Because he does, in case you didn't know. Like a few weeks after I got out of the hospital, you had a shift during one of my physical therapy appointments so Jim had to take me.

"He was in a mood that day, and I'll admit that I was too. It's just when I didn't bother to play the perfect step-daughter, he snapped—told me how it was all my fault that the paramedic died— that he still be alive if it wasn't for me arguing with him.

"And I can't I disagree on that part, because I still blame myself for it, but I know the accident wasn't my fault. It wasn't anyone's fault."

"No, Jim wouldn't say that." Mum whispers as her knuckles turn white against the steering wheel. "Look, I know you and Jim haven't exactly gotten along well since you and Tony started bonding, but he would never say that."

"But he did, Mum. And for the record, Jim and I have never been close. He's always wanted to be the one thing I never needed him as—my dad. So yeah, things changed when I got to know my real Dad, because he couldn't keep up the facade anymore." I cross my arms and try to get a read on my mom as she avoids my gaze. "You really don't believe me, do you?

"Sweetheart, it's not that. I'm just—I have a hard time believing that he would say that. Are you sure you didn't just misunderstand?"

"I'm positive, Mum. Why would I lie or exaggerate about something like this? Why can't you just believe me when I say that it happened or that Jim makes me uncomfortable?" I counter and try to hold back the building tears, "Why does everything have to leave Jim innocent and me or Dad the monster?"

"Because, Lia, your Dad isn't a perfect person. I'm just worried that he's unintentionally coloring your opinion of Jim."

"Yeah, well, Dad may not be perfect, but at least he doesn't look at me like a bomb that's about to go off." I snap and shrink down in my seat like a stereotypical teenager.

"Well, I'm sorry my best isn't good enough!" She shouts and glares at the road ahead of her, which means I'm in for one heck of a row.

"It's not you, Mum. It's Jim treating me like a rat in a cage or a monster ready to attack him at any second! And it doesn't help when you tell me he doesn't or act like I'm crazy." I shout back and let my voice drop back to normal as I stare at my trembling hands. "Maybe I could just stay with Dad for a while longer and avoid all this."

"Maybe you should, and maybe you should just stay there until we can work this all out since you're so happy there and clearly miserable with me." She whispers, and I feel myself trying to hold myself together as she continues, "I'll call your Dad and you can stay with him until—until things change."

"Mum, is this—are you—?" I try to piece the words together, but I can't quite make a tangible thought until the first tear falls, "Is this your way of kicking me out?"

She refuses to speak or even look at me the rest of the way back, which she does instead of facing a problem. My hands shake from more than the biting cold as we make it back to the apartment. I feel like someone's clenching a fist around my lungs, and I collapse into sobs when I make it to my room.

They escape past my lips as I tear open my drawers and stuff items into a duffel bag. Clothes, books, trinkets, and anything within arms reach as I fight back the building Supernova. All I can seem to focus on is getting my things together so I can leave as quickly as I can.

I fall to the floor in tears as I dial Dad's number with shaking hands. He answers within two rings, "Hey, bug. Everything okay?"

"No." I cry and try to get the words out, "No, it's not. Can you come get me?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way right now." I can hear his keys jingling in the background, and he continues to talk to me as he gets ready to leave. "What happened? Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"She didn't—she doesn't believe me. I told her about things with Jim, but she won't listen. Now—now she's kicking me out." I whisper as I clutch a book to my chest. "She said if that I'm so happy staying with you that maybe I should un—until 'things change.'"

"Bug, I'm—I don't even know what to say. Do you want me to talk to her when I get there?"

"No, please, don't. I just—I want to go home." I tell him, and he agrees quietly.

"I'll be there in a few minutes. If you can't get your stuff packed up tonight, then I'll go back with you later for the rest of it. Okay?"

"Okay." I tell him as I zip up my bag. "Thank you, Dad."

"Hey, no need to thank me, bug. I'm your Dad; it's what I do." He stays on the line with me until he's right outside the apartment, and I quickly shove a few more things I'd hate to leave behind, like the book my gran gave me before I left England and the picture of Will, Trish, and I. They rest at the top of my bag as I rush to meet Dad at the front door, where he greets me with a tight hug. "Let's get you home."

Mom sits on the couch nestled into Jim's side, and I know she's just pretending to watch TV. It's glaringly obvious by the history documentary that she always hates playing. Usually when Jim puts something like that one, she reads a book or watches a show in another room, but now, she keeps her head unmoving and directed towards the screen. I don't know if this is better or worse than knowing she's watching me leave. Dad shoots a glare mixed with disbelief towards her before I tug on his sleeve like the toddler I feel like in this moment.

"Can we go? Please," I whisper and try to take a deep breath to calm myself down. The only thing that offers me any comfort is that at least Dad is on my side with this. Although, I can practically feel the anger building and radiating off of him as I recount the story and details I've never said before.

"We'll take care of this."

"I know, but I'd rather we find out and stop whatever'showing on with the REM Trials. That's all I want now. I'm pretty sure Jim is involved, but if he's not, I'd rather just find out what's going on and put an end to it."

"Well, then I guess we have some work to do." Dad replies with a solemn expression, and it provides me a glimmer of hope that we really can do this. We can—and will—stop the REM Trials.