New York was Carissa's favorite place in the world. Or at least that she had been to. It had been her favorite place to live and now it was her favorite to visit. It reminded her of her dad in the best ways, which sometimes she needed. She'd always wanted to travel around Europe, that would probably be her favorite place in the world when she gets around to it. Being with her (second) favorite person in the world made it even better. Still, she wanted Bucky there. Peter was only her second favorite.
As much as Peter tried to fight it, he couldn't ignore the crush he was developing on Carissa. It had made itself apparent in the Thai restaurant and now he couldn't get it to go away.
Peter was at some party, leaving Carissa to think by herself.
"Get a suit." Tony had said. "A real suit. And a mask. Then you could be seen with Peter."
She didn't think that would change anything. What was the point? Go everywhere with Peter? Trail him like a little puppy? What were the odds she'd fuck up and give up his identity?
She didn't think that was the best idea. Plus, she was Captain America's daughter, mask or not. She was always recognizable considering the fact that she was an Avenger. They were all recognizable.
She didn't think Tony had thought of that part. She couldn't afford to be the reason Peter's identity was given up. He'd hate her for it. But then again, Tony thought of everything.
"Just call me when you need me." The girl had told him. He nodded before walking out of her makeshift room in the back of her camper. She had spent about an hour making it feel more like her room at home, but it didn't. Her dad wasn't here, so it wouldn't really be home. She wondered how things had been at home. Had her dad gotten a dog like she'd told him to? She wanted to call him but she promised she'd only call on her way home. So, she called the only other number in her phone that mattered.
Peter stood by Ned. Ned looked up at him suddenly.
"What's the deal with the girl?" He asked.
"Carissa?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, what's her deal?"
"She's an old friend." Peter replied.
"Oh?" Ned asked. "I know all of you friends."
"Yeah, Ned. You knew her, too. She went to school with us in the seventh grade until she was pulled out by her dad."
"She have a boyfriend?"
Peter thought for a second. The technical answer was no, but there was no way he was about to tell Ned that. "Yes." He answered.
"You hesitated."
"N-no I didn't, Ned. I'm putting the suit on now." Peter said, walking out of the party.
"Hey, Princess." Tony's voice rang through Carissa's phone.
"Hey." She replied.
"What's up?"
"Well, Peter's at a party and I'm in my van. Couldn't afford to give up his identity, considering I've been seen with Spider-Man." She answered.
"Speaking of Spider-Man, I made something for you." Tony said. No attempt at convincing me it'd be fine? No attempt at getting his way? Was Tony sick?
"What?" She asked.
"Web shooters. I figured even with the psionics it was hard to keep up with him."
"I was actually gonna call you about that, I had just forgotten. Thanks, Tony." He really had thought of everything.
"No problem, kid." He replied. "Keep your head up, Riss. He'll come back to you."
With that, Tony hung up. Tony knew everything. Tony Stark was like God, if you believe in God. Carissa didn't, she believed in Tony.
He'll come back to you.
She sighed. She wanted Bucky back now. She wanted her dad. He was the only one who understood. But they also needed the separation. Every time she looked at her dad, she thought of him. Steve didn't see it that way, but she had. For Steve, she was the distraction but for her he was just a reminder. A setback. She felt bad saying that, thinking it. He didn't mean to be. He tried his best. She missed him, but not enough to go home. She just felt shitty about leaving him.
She stood up only to sit back down. She didn't know what to do with herself.
She buried her face in her hands before standing again. What the hell was she supposed to do? What could she do? Go home?
She could go to sleep. She started up at the ceiling for a while. Apparently, she couldn't go to sleep. She pulled her phone out. Go home. She had to go home.
To Peter🕸:
Don't hate me but I have to go. I'm sorry.
She didn't wait for a response. She turned the key to her van and just drove.
Peter had felt his phone go off, but he was a little busy being dragged through the street to answer. He had to keep an eye out, watching for anything he could run into as his webs held onto the back of the white van for dear life. He wanted to call Carissa, but it was too late.
After a few hours on the road, she called her dad.
"Carissa?" He asked.
"Hi, dad. I'm on my way home."
"Already? It's only been a few days."
"I know, I just can't do this. I need to be somewhere else. I don't know what to do."
Steve sighed into the phone. "I know what you mean. Come home."
"I'll be there soon. Go back to sleep, dad."
She hung up the phone and continued to drive.
Peter made his way back home as quickly as he could. He couldn't wait to tell Carissa what he'd seen. When he got there, her camper was gone. He finally pulled his phone out, reading her text. He wasn't happy, but he could never bring himself to hate her.
She made it back to their temporary home by the time the sun was coming up. She knew he hadn't gone to sleep; She knew he hadn't been able to sleep. She parked her camper, running up the stairs to their apartment. Steve opened the door right as she reached it, pulling the small girl into him. He held onto her tightly, rubbing her back lightly.
"I want to go home." Steve said into her hair.
"What?" She asked as he released her.
"I was thinking about it the whole time you were driving back. I want to go home." He told her.
Home meant Brooklyn. He wanted to go back to Brooklyn, back to where he grew up with Bucky. Back to where she grew up. Back where he'd met her mom. Back where it all started. Where her story started. That was why she loved New York, but she had just left there.
She shook her head. She couldn't handle seeing him heartbroken back home.
"We have to." He told her. He knew why she was shaking her head.
She just shook her head again. Steve frowned at the girl.
"We can't hide from this forever." Steve told her.
"You can try to." She replied. She was more stubborn than her dad. She could hide from anything, especially to prove a point.
"I want you to be better than me." He said. Steve knew she already was, she always had been. She just handled things better. It came from a lot of practice, he guessed.
She shook her head. "That's a lot of pressure to dump on your sixteen-year-old daughter."
Steve smiled at his daughter.
So, they headed back to Brooklyn. Back to the apartment she vividly remembered Nick Fury getting shot in. She vividly remembered chasing Bucky. She vividly remembered Sharon Carter busting through the door to aid Fury. It was like it was yesterday. It was vivid.
Her room was still the same. The whole place had been. The pictures of her dad and Bucky still hung in the hallway, along with her own baby pictures. The holes from the gunshots were filled in and painted over, no evidence of the night left behind. She vividly remembered.
Peter contemplated sending the text that sat in his drafts. He sounded desperate, but he missed her and he needed her help.
From Peter🕸:
Something big is happening. I need my partner back. Please come back to me.
The words sent a chill down Carissa's spine. Peter sounded as desperate as she felt. Come back to me. She caved. Peter needed her just as she had needed him.
He was all she had right now and she was all he had, all he wanted. The only distraction that didn't bring back painful memories, like her dad. She had been the only one who understood where he was coming from. She didn't want to take off again, but this time she was a lot closer. Peter hoped she was on her way, never receiving a reply. Peter was the only friend she had right now. Carissa was the only person he had ever clicked with. She had to go. She slipped back out the door and down to her van, looking back up into the window. Steve looked down at her, nodding. He knew she had to go. He knew she was needed. She sat in her van, headed towards Queens, but something had been missing.
She needed her suit.
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