Mayra's POV.

Mayra's heart randomly sped up and down, as if not being able to decide whether it was relived or scared from the near to death encounter.  Her head throbbed with pain as the crimson blood trickled out from the wound. The stomach dared to throw out its contents as various waves of nausea took over her, her eyes clouding up.

She didn't know what happened back there, it was as if the shadows bent to her will, protecting her as they engulfed the man dressed from head to toe in black. He was wearing gloves, his face was covered, the only remnant of his physical features being his stormy grey eyes.

She was weaving through the roads, the golden rays of sunlight now peeping through the less dense clouds.

Mayra was safe, she got away and repeatedly chanted this in her head to calm down her nerves. She had bigger problems at hand and could not afford to pay attention to some stupid encounter with a mugger and she shook it off.

Mayra had gathered the evidence of the black van that was needed from the camera installed outside Mickey's Comics. And indeed, a black van had driven past the very same day around the evening, taking a slight turn towards the neighborhood where Blake resided. Its windows were tinted black obscuring any gazes from the outside, and instead of numbers and letters emblazoning the number plate sat an empty white space.

The tinted windows, empty number plate, were enough to raise red flags. After forty-five minutes, the same black van was driving at a higher speed away from the neighborhood, towards 53rd Avenue.

The black wan matched with Blake's story, but she had no evidence of it stopping by Blake's house and driving away with his family. There weren't any cameras around his house, the closest she could find was this one.

Now, Mayra had to take a long route, possibly one which involved her working overtime so that she could find them in a week. She had to trace the origins of the van, hopping from one store to another, one office to another, gathering footage of the traffic, piecing it together, and finding the origin.

But right now, Mayra wanted to stop by home, change her clothes that were drenched in mud, water and blood, grab a cup of coffee and head off to 53rd Avenue.

Denial.

Mayra was in denial, as much as she tried pulling herself out of the water and face the reality, she dove back in, every time because it was too harsh for her to bear. Mayra wondered if Blake was lying again?

But then another part of her knew that everything seemed extremely odd from the very beginning. The hidden room? Why? It was to hide the fact that Blake had a family, making it easier to hold them, hostage, raising fewer eyebrows. A dumb move, honestly.

And then giving yourself away after thirty-five kills like that was your goal? That made no sense.

Blake's wife doing her best to not defend him under any circumstances? Surely she loved him, the family pictures depicted so. But maybe it was just for a show.

It made absolutely no sense. However, a black van had appeared that night, without a number plate and, tinted windows driving leisurely around the neighborhood. So maybe she thought she'd give it a shot at another mystery that kept her on her feet.

Her ambition pulled her out of the water.

Mayra was ambitious, that was a fact that even the Fates could not erase. She was also empathetic, but just sometimes, her ambition would outrun her empathy. But she wouldn't acknowledge that. No, she told herself, the only reason she was hopping on this new adventure was so that the children walking on the streets would not become his future victims. And that was true, a large part of her was hopping on it, to protect the city. But there was also this ambitious part of Mayra which could not bear the loss of her knowledge and intelligence. That part of her was furious, screaming with rage on how could she let the actual murderer get away. It reprimanded her on why she didn't see the signs early. And now it wanted to find him more than anything in the world, despite Blake's warning.

But Mayra didn't know if she'd wreck herself in the process or save the city. Or maybe both.

Mayra's phone violently buzzed, several notifications flooding it, she had forgotten to inform her friends she'd miss out on lectures today. So she shot up a quick message telling them she was sick and got out of her car, slamming the door a little too loudly, walking to her apartment building, her head busy in various deductions.

Until a voice shook her out of her thinking, "Mayra?"

Fuck.

Mayra could absolutely not have anyone see her in this state, or know what she was up to. Especially because she was carrying out a private investigation as an intern, which she was not authorized to do. She increased her pace, jumping into the open elevator of her building and aggressively jabbing the 21st-floor button before they followed her inside.

A sigh of relief fell from her lips as she watched the doors slide close and the faint elevator music fill the room.

"Hey! Mayra, wait!" Peter tucked his shoe in between the closing doors.

Mayra had wonderfully jinxed the situation. "Peter, hey," Mayra greeted, masking her disappointed voice with fake surprise.

She quickly faced away from him, trying to hide the bloody left side of her face, she however stopped her dumbass when she realized the elevator was entirely mirrored. How lovely.

Peter's face immediately fell as he took a look at her face. His faint smile faded and, was replaced by a concerned frown.

"You're hurt.""Oh my God, really?! How the fuck did I not notice that?" Mayra exaggerated with a stoic expression as the elevator shot up.

Peter rolled his eyes at her sarcastic remark, hesitatingly, he cupped her chin and gently twisted her head, examining the wound as if he was a doctor.

A sharp pain fogged her vision as she jerked herself out of his touch. "Peter, I am fine," Mayra winced.

"Who did that?" Peter questioned, concern coating his features as he pushed his hands inside his pockets.

"Some mugger bitch, don't worry though, I beat him up in an alley," Mayra smiled proudly.Peter mirrored her smile, but the faint smile soon fell away and was exchanged with a melancholic expression.

On a closer look, his warm brown eyes were red and puffy, his face ghostly pale as the brown curls looped over his forehead.

"Who hurt you, though?" Mayra asked as the elevator came to a stop.

"Wha-What?" Peter stuttered as he stood inside the elevator, facing Mayra, who stepped outside.

"So are you gonna stand there and cry to the elevator music or are you comin'?" Mayra asked as she blocked the doors from closing.

Peter grumbled a curse and followed Mayra to her apartment.

"So as I was asking, who hurt you?" Mayra pressed as she entered inside her cozy living room.

"Well, uh, no one," Peter lied as his eyes avoided Mayra's.

"Liar."

"Am not."

"You are lying to a detective," Mayra smirked. She pulled out a first aid kit and sat on the floor, cleaning the area around her wound.

"Why does it matter?" Peter grunted as he nervously took a seat near her. His caramel eyes intently watched her bandage the wound.

"I don't know? I thought we were sharing our pain."

Peter chuckled, "Well, MJ and I broke up, so yeah."

Sadness swam in the pools of his honey brown eyes, as he looked out to the skyline of New York.

"Want cookies?" Mayra blurted out. It was probably really inappropriate, but she didn't exactly know what to say to a broken heart.

And that was maybe because no one said anything that could mend her broken heart. For Mayra words from a stranger or a friend or family didn't mend her broken heart, she only truly healed when she willed herself to move on. Because he moved on, he didn't wait for her to return from the snap.  Mayra didn't blame him, she had been gone for five years and he thought she was dead. For Mayra, it had only been five hours and when she came back, she was absolutely heartbroken to see the things around her change so quickly. He had changed, he was striving, and Mayra couldn't go back, so she continued with her broken heart, and without any closure.

Mayra picked up the broken pieces of her heart and pieced them together by herself, glued them, and protected them behind the tall and strong forts she'd constructed. So that no one could enter and wreck them again.

"Sorry, that-that was very insensitive of me," Mayra apologized.

"But I would like to have some cookies?" Peter gave her a kind smile.

Mayra beamed back, heading to the pantry and pulling out a batch of cookies. "Um, I hope you get better and find peace."

"Thanks," Peter said through a mouthful of cookies.

"So why are you here? Not that you shouldn't be here, y'know I am always up for a talk so if you're here to just talk then it's completely ok, you can do that whenever you want," Mayra rambled.

Peter smiled wide, the end of his eyes crinkled as he slightly shook his head, "Actually, your friends were super worried about you, Crystal came up and said you weren't answering their texts or calls so, I just wanted to check up on you."

Aw, that's fucking sweet.

"Oh, yeah, um, I'm sick," Mayra lied again. It was now becoming her second nature.

"And yet you were out in the rain and got mugged up in the alley, almost seems like you love inviting trouble," Peter said, gesturing to her wet and muddy state.

Mayra had forgotten to change out of her soaked clothes, getting used to the coldness that hugged her body.

"I don't like inviting trouble, it just finds me," she shrugged.

"Uh-huh, definitely not like you sneaked into Oscorp or you hung around deserted and dangerous streets of Brooklyn last night," Peter rolled his eyes, brushing the small crumbs of cookie from his fingertips.

Mayra's eyes widened, and so did Peter's as he realized he absent-mindedly slipped out more information than he intended to. And then a smug smile rose to her lips, her face blooming as her deductions stood correct.

"You're Spider-Man," Mayra gasped, immediately pushing herself up from the ground.

"No, no, no, I am not," Peter got up too, the urgency in his eyes quite evident while his voice matched exactly with the high-pitched tone of Spider-Man, the day he broke into her apartment.

"You lying to a detective, bitch? I had already figured it out yesterday, you just confirmed my deductions," Mayra smirked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Peter sighed in defeat, "You can't let anyone know, ok?"

"Only if you promise me that you'll let me meet Loki."

"Fine," Peter let out an exasperated sigh.

Mayra squeaked an excited thank you as Peter glanced at the clock which struck five in the cloudy evening.

"Um, I have stuff to uh do, so I'll see you later," Peter said, giving out a small wave and walking backward outside the apartment.

Mayra shot him back a kind smile, knowing that the 'stuff' was his Spider-Man duties. She shut the door, resting her exhausted figure against the smooth cold surface and thinking, how the fuck she'd explain this to her mother. She cleaned herself up and took some painkillers. Mayra gulped down a gallon of water, trying to shake off nausea and headache, while also forcing herself to get up and continue her investigation. But the notification on her phone seemed to set her in a daze, scaring the daylights out of her, pulling her into a dark abyss.

𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚛𝚊 𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝.

𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑. 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚞𝚙, 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚙. 𝚂𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑. 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚝?! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚘.

𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚜, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙. 𝙸𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚔𝚎'𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐.

a/n: well, make sure you tell me what you think of the chapter and if you have any wild theories, comment them down below!!! I ABSOLUTELY LOVE READING THEM. don't forget to vote if you liked the chapter. ilysm ❤️❤️❤️