The Sun was just coming up over the horizon when Clara arrived in Broek Op Langedijk. It had been only a twenty-minute walk from the train yard, but it felt like days had passed, each step lasting hours.

She was still breathing, she still had a next step, and Peter Parker was alive - She just need to find him.

Being so early in the morning, there were very few people on the streets to ask for directions, so Clara just kept walking until she found the housing estates beginning to morph into niche cafes and artisan shops. 

One man lifted the roller of a shop, revealing a pet store behind it. Seeing Clara trudging down the path, he smiled and waved. Clara smiled back timidly, tilting her head slightly at his friendliness.

"Er... Guten morgen?" Clara waved back. She had never been to the Netherlands before, and she hadn't learnt Dutch, so she was hoping there were enough similarities between that and German for her to at least understand some directions. Apparently there were; the man not only understanding what she was saying, but also able to tell it wasn't a language she spoke often. 

The man smiled at Clara, somewhat amused by her hesitancy to use the language, and he simply said in plain English: "Good morning." 

"Oh, uh, hello. I'm looking for a holding facility somewhere near here?" Clara asked, both hands still griping her backpack straps.

The mans face showed one of recognition, and he turned to point down the road in the direction she was going. "Carry on that way, when you get to the corner, follow it round and carry on till you see Bram's goats. When you do get to the market, you'll see it in front of you, a little to your left."

"Uh... Right. Okay, thanks." Clara said, moving past him as he turned back to the front doors of his shop. "Corner, goats, market." She nodded, her eyebrows lightly furrowed with a mixture of uncertainty and nervousness.

She reached the corner, following it round as she had been told to do. "Follow the corner." Clara repeated. As she did, she saw the buildings around her becoming more rustic; shorter homes with cracked plaster walls and broken tile roofing. 

Clara took deep steadying breaths. Please be okay, Peter.

In the blur of the distant set of buildings, she saw animal pens, a cow standing tied to a post just next to one of them. "Carry on till you see Bram's goats." Assuming he meant to get nearer to them, she pushed on. 

The overcast skies loomed down onto her, threatening to pour rain. She shivered; the thin child's cardigan Edith had given her doing nothing to block out the chill no matter how tightly she wrapped it round herself.

A slight wind pushed at her back, spurring her onward but only increasing the chill she felt. Her arm was throbbing now, too. She looked down at it, a small red line spreading along her bandage. The sight of it made her feel queasy and light-headed as the memories from the day before came back to her.

"The market." Clara whispered, stopping at the sight of early-morning shoppers choosing their fresh breads, cheeses, and fruit and vegetables. She looked around, the faded colours of the old stalls still lively, smiling faces on the holders, and the conversations with customers creating a soft buzz in the air. 

Under different circumstances, Clara would've stuck around for longer to take in the sights, maybe sample some food, too. Her stomach roared at the idea, but she pressed on.

She walked into the area, moving round stacks of wooden crates and rows of bikes. "In front, a little to the left." Clara mumbled, spotting the signage for the holding facility on the other side of the courtyard.

"Thank you again, Sir." Clara span around. She had heard his voice. Peter was somewhere near. Her eyes scanned the shallow crowds, trying to spot the boy dressed in black. She couldn't see him though, because instead of the suit he had been wearing before, he was now dressed in an orange sports shirt.

She wondered if she had imagined it – her mind playing nasty tricks on her. Reluctantly, she turned back and carried on. She'll ask the guards inside, then she'll know if he's still there or not.

Peter turned to face the market, trying to find his direction. Happy Hogan had told him he'd meet Peter in the tulip field across from the market – but which way was that? Looking between the walls of the courtyard, he saw the only two exit arches were to his left and right, but he couldn't see anything past the archways.

Then, he frowned, thinking he had seen a familiar head of hair through a gap in the stalls, but he shook the idea from his mind. He was just seeing what his mind wanted to see.

Clara moved further down towards the building she had originally been aiming for, stopping just before the front doors to looked back at the market from that angle. No, she told herself, he's outside somewhere, she had heard his voice.

"Clara?" Peter mumbled, seeing a girl walking away. She was wearing different clothes and had a different bag on her back, but the waves in her hair were the same. "Clara!"

Peter's voice came again, now calling her name. Then, she spotted him. Peter was staring out across the market. She did it – she had found him. She stepped towards him, slowly at first but then her legs carried her faster. Clara felt tears stinging her eyes once again, at least a few rolling down her cheeks as she bound towards him.

Peter barely had time to brace his legs as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt damp cheeks against his exposed neck. He raised his hands from his sides, not hesitating before he pulled her further into him, one hand on the back of her head, the other on her upper back. "I thought..." He started, his voice low. "I thought Beck might've..."

She shook her head against him. "He just left me. Peter, you got hit by a train; I thought you were dead."

"Wait..." Peter said, instantly pulling his paranoia back to him. "He just left you in Berlin?" He moved his hands to Clara's waist, pushing her off of him gently. His eyes found hers but didn't linger. Instead he looked over the rest of her.

"What?" Clara asked, looking down at herself, too. "Peter, what is it?"

"How do I know it's really you?" He pressed his lips together, his brow pinched. Clara saw the pain behind his eyes as he watched her closely.

"It's me, it just- it just is." Clara swallowed nervously, not knowing how to prove herself. "Peter, I don't-"

"When I was stopped at the airport by security what was it for?"

Clara answered quickly, her mind instantly reaching back to the past for the answer. "A banana."

"Wait, no, he could've seen that on CCTV..." Peter's scowl deepened; he needed to ask her something that only she would know – something so out of the blue that Beck's team wouldn't know about it. "Okay, okay..." He trailed of muttered lines of thought to himself as he searched for a way to find the truth. 

Clara wasn't entirely sure what came over her in that moment, but she suddenly found herself once again closing the space between them. The same reason - a different purpose. She lifted herself onto her tip-toes, giving her the height she needed to press her lips against Peter's. Clara stayed that way for a short moment, feeling Peter's tensed muscles relax as she did.

Her stomach fluttered, her heart pounding as she waited for Peter to do something to show a reaction of any sort. She wasn't sure whether she had expected him to kiss back or push her off, but neither happened. 

He didn't move though, too surprised by her actions to do anything but stare wide-eyed, only letting them fall closed once the initial shock had passed. Clara stepped back, thinking she really shouldn't have done that as her cheeks flushed a deep pink. "Sorry." She said quietly, wondering what had come over her. 

"No. No, it's okay. I..." Unsure as to what to say, Peter pulled her back into an embrace, holding her close. "It's really you." He sighed contently, closing his eyes and turning his face towards her slightly, smelling the sweet fragrance of her shampoo as he buried his bruised face into the thick hair. 

Clara sunk into his embrace, relief immediately flooding her system to push away the short-lived fear that she had made the wrong move. She knew the hug meant more from Peter than what would have been shown in a kiss; he didn't have to return the same gesture for Clara to know her feelings were reciprocated. 

Still holding her close, his face buried into her hair, Peter felt the dust that was still tangled within the locks, and so, even as the comfort of Clara being with him was strong, he couldn't help feel as though her being in this mess was entirely his fault. 

Clara had refused to stop for long enough to wash any more than her face until she had found him. "Your arm." Peter pushed her off of him again, pulling Clara's arm in front of him to look at the cut.

Clara winced lightly as he held her tender arm, taking in the sight of the bandages. "I met a woman in Berlin; she helped me get here."

"Oh." He acknowledged, concerned filling his eyes as he saw the red line drawn across the material.

"Her name was Edith, if you can believe that." Clara told him chuckling lightly, he looked up from her arm to her face. Peter smiled weakly at her statement, more focused on her well being then the name of a stranger. He was thankful to whoever the woman was, though. Thankful she had been there to help. "Are you okay, Peter? I mean you look pretty good considering you got hit by a train and all." 

"I've been better." He grimaced, feeling awkward in the almost stilted conversation. "Come on, Happy's on his way."

"Happy?" Clara asked; she hadn't heard that name before.

"Hogan - Happy Hogan. He's Head of Security for Stark Industries." He started to walk away, Clara noticing him limping.

"Peter?" She asked, catching up to him and moving to his right side. "Here." She took his arm, draping over her shoulder.

He winced, placing a little of his weight on her. "Thanks."

"Is it bad?" Clara looked down at the leg as Peter practically dragged it behind him.

"I think it's broken." He stated plainly. Clara gaped at him, her left arm secure around his waist as she acted as a crutch. "It's fine though! I'll heal- I'll be fine."

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