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ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING
ix. SHE'S NOT AFRAID

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  RILEY O'DAIR FEARED NOTHING. Well, at least, she wasn't afraid of most things. She didn't mind the dentist, she wasn't afraid of heights, and she couldn't care less about the dark. Sure, she had a rational fear of the Hulk and disliked bugs, but otherwise, Riley was fearless.

   By the time she was 15-years-old, she had been exposed to death, blood, and war. She fought battles against dangerous aliens when she was 11, and when she was two, she murdered her parents before she even knew how to shoot a gun (which was when she was four). She had seen and done things most children would and should never be exposed to, and that was what made her so brave, courageous.

   Riley never had a normal childhood. Instead of playing with dolls, she was dismantling bombs. She never built sandcastles with her family at the beach because she was too busy learning how to create useful inventions. She was mentored how to fight mostly by an ex-assassin named Natasha Romanoff, and she had academic debates with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner when she was 14.

   But, despite this, Riley was still sheltered.

   Yes, in the most backward way possible, Riley was sheltered. To what, you might ask? The real world. She didn't know how most things worked. She didn't understand what working 9-to-5 meant or what customer service actually means. She didn't know what a bedtime or curfew was. She only knew the life that was given to her. That life, perfectly constructed by the government, was absent from a lot of things, including things like poverty, homelessness, and how dangerous ordinary people can become when they're in need.

   Now, Riley wasn't afraid of most things. She didn't understand why parents told their kids, particularly their daughters, to never go out at night alone. Of course, she was more than qualified to protect herself if she had to. Whoever tried to cross her path would soon realize that she was the most dangerous thing between them.

   Hair pulled back into a messy braid, sweat collected around her face as Riley went for a late-night jog. Training and exercising were very important to her, probably because they were one of the few things she did in her free time. Most of the bonding she did with the Avengers was through training. Even though she was genetically enhanced, she had to maintain her physique for future catastrophe.

   Because, in her opinion, world peace was an unreasonable load of bullshit. There would always be wars to fight, and that was where she and the Avengers stepped in. And they always had to be ready. Riley was just being open-minded.

   As Riley's feet hit the pavement one evening in Queens, New York, she found herself reminiscent of the Avengers. She missed training with them—arguing over what music to play, how many reps of something counted, debating how long a water-break should be. Things since the Accords just weren't the same, and they never would be.

   Riley slowed her sprint into a jog, which transitioned swiftly into a walk. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, skipping a song on her playlist and regretting not bringing a bottle of water with her earlier.

   She peered up at the dark city of Queens, New York. Streetlights guided her way, not that Riley needed it. Her body always faintly glowed with light due to the UV radiation streaming through her. The buildings around her were so tall that the clouds were practically sitting on top of them, making it look like they had tufts of hair on their rooftops.

   That was when Riley noticed it—a presence. There was a person behind her, causing her to tense. It was a normal reaction, of course. She was unsure who would bother following her, a lonely teenaged girl, around at night. She remained calm and continued her walk, not feeling the urgency to get the hell out of the abandoned streets of the city and go home.

   When Riley glanced over her shoulder to see her stalker, she couldn't make out a face, only a shadowy silhouette. The person followed her down the sidewalk, silent as a mouse. She focused her attention on her path again, remaining calm. Maybe it was just a coincidence they were walking the same path together?

   Riley came to an abrupt stop when a new figure stood before her. Surprised, she pulled her fist back to punch the person out of pure instinct; however, she was taken aback, even more, when a pistol was pointed at her face. She glanced behind herself in search of the shadowy silhouette from before. He was gone. How odd.

   The person in front of her wore a hoodie over his face, but under the streetlight, Riley could see that his features were layered in dirt and grime. She assumed he had been waiting nearby, eager to attack someone as vulnerable as a teenaged girl like herself. His voice was low and husky as he demanded, "Give me your phone."

   Riley raised an eyebrow, calm. She'd had a gun pointed at her before. She wasn't worried. "Excuse me?" replied Riley.

   "Give me your phone," the man hissed. "Give me your money, too."

   Riley's eyes trailed down to see the handgun pointed at her face. Makes sense, she thought to herself, Who's gonna carry around a shotgun in the city? Handguns are easier to conceal. Other than a knife, that probably means this guy doesn't have any other weapons on him. She knew she could use her powers to get herself out of this situation, but she risked exposing her identity. Of course, that didn't mean she didn't know other ways to escape.

   "I'm not gonna ask again," he spat. "Hand it over."

   Riley's gaze flickered upward. "Or what? You'll shoot?" she challenged. When the man was about to reply, she cut him off, "Alright. Fine."

   Slowly, Riley raised her hands, surrendering. In her left was her phone, leaving her right hand free. Now, her hands were closer to the gun and her attacker didn't even realize it, seeing it as an act of submission. Then, without a second to spare, Riley backhanded the aim of the gun, grabbing the wrist of the arm holding the weapon with the same hand. Riley pulled his arm, bringing him closer to her as she punched him in the jaw and kicked him in the chest.

   As the gun fell out of his grip, Riley kicked it to the side. Before her attacker could fight back, a stream of webs pulled him onto the concrete. Spider-Man swung down from seemingly nowhere, standing tall and proud.

   "You know, I don't know too much about girls, but I don't think being creepy is gonna score you a date with one."

   Riley's eyes widened at the sight of him. Where the hell did he come from?

   When the man tried to attack Spider-Man, the arachnid hero shot his webs at the streetlight above them, swinging to the skies before kicking the man down again. Riley just watched, silent, with raised eyebrows as Spider-Man saved the day. 

   Once the man was webbed to the ground, unable to move any further, Spider-Man turned to Riley. "Are you alright, uh, ma'am?" he worriedly asked.

   Riley slowly nodded. She looked down at herself, then back at him. "Well, I'm still in one piece," she replied, a terrible attempt at joking when the situation was actually quite serious.

   Spider-Man was somewhat alarmed by her response. "Are you sure? That was kind of insane. Are you hurt?"

   Riley shrugged. "Just 'cause bad things happen doesn't mean you have to let them control you," she wisely said. There I go sounding like Steve again, she thought, subtly cringing on the inside. "Thanks for, uh, doing all that back there."

   Spider-Man stuck out his chest as he insisted, "It's all in a day's work! You looked like you had it handled, but it didn't feel right leaving a pretty lady alone to fend for herself like that." When Riley eyed him at his compliment, he quickly added, "Not-Not that I'm hitting on you! I mean, you're pretty, but I just—"

   A laugh escaped Riley. Oddly enough, the familiarity of being around Peter Parker was comforting. Maybe it was because this was the closest she'd get to hang with the Avengers for the next few months (or however long this would take)... not that Spider-Man was an Avenger. He was the next best thing, she supposed.

   "You're Spider-Man, right?" queried Riley. "I've seen you on YouTube."

   The masked hero saluted her, trying to get her to crack a smile. "At your service!"

   She smiled at the act, eyeing him curiously. "You know, I was kinda hoping you actually had eight legs. But I guess that's the man part of you, huh?"

   Spider-Man chuckled at how nonchalant she was being. "You know, you really shouldn't be walking around by yourself at night. There's a lot of dangerous people, like that guy." He nodded to her attacker, who was still webbed on the ground.

   "Yeah?" Riley dared. "And how do I know you're not one of those creeps?"

   She watched as he gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, and I really thought I was about to make a new friend!" exclaimed Spider-Man.

   Lightly snickering, Riley replied, "Aw, come on, I'm just teasing you." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Riley."

   "Spider-Man."

   "I know," she remarked, causing him to pause before they both laughed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get home. Thanks for saving my ass back there."

   As Riley began to walk away, Spider-Man called back, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You're really just gonna walk back by yourself?"

   Riley paused and turned back around, shrugging. "Yeah, pretty much." She started to walk backward as she added, "Besides, I'm not afraid of anything. Sorry to disappoint ya, Spidey!"

   As Peter Parker watched his classmate walk away from him, bafflement overcame him, endless questions circling his brain. Why was she so calm back there? How—No, where did she learn how to fight like that? Those didn't look like basic rookie movements. It looked like she'd been doing stuff like that for ages, almost like a professional. Maybe even better.

   Although it seemed like Riley O'Dair could protect herself, Spider-Man still found himself swinging from building-to-building, following her in case she needed his help again. That was just the kind of person he was. He would fight for and defend nearly anyone, whether they asked or not. Even after he watched Riley safely walk into her building's complex, Peter couldn't stop thinking about what just happened.

   Then again, it was a cruel world they lived in. There were creeps in the streets, aliens in the skies. It only made sense that people were learning how to fight—for these exact instances. Peter assumed it was reasonable that she could fight when necessary.

   He was overthinking this for nothing.