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chapter three
ACROSS THE WORLD
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LENA HAS SCARCELY FELT so overwhelmed in her life. Packing everything she'll need for a week and a half-long trip to Europe has been harrowing enough, and now that the morning of her departure has finally come, she has to keep rummaging through her suitcase in fear she's forgotten something. Deodorant? Check. Sunscreen? Check. Extra film for her polaroid camera? Check. She's been fully packed for over two weeks now. So why does she feel so anxious?

"Lena!" Ma's voice hollers from the kitchen, followed by her banging on her closed bedroom door. "You're going to be late. Mrs. Seager is already outside!"

"I know!" Lena calls back in an exasperated tone as she shoves an extra pair of socks into her suitcase. "One more minute, please!"

She reaches under her bed to see if anything had fallen underneath it while she packed. Her fingers skim over a few old notebooks, a rogue pencil, and an empty packet of gum before ghosting over something that makes her blood turn to ice. It makes her pause, hesitating for just a moment too long before she drags the item out.

And in her hands is the file Tony had given her about her parents.

Lena finds herself staring at the cover, then, almost as if her hands are moving on their own accord, she opens it and stares at the newspaper clippings, transcripts, and articles stuffed inside. A wry smile creeps its way up onto her mouth as she reads over the recording from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

"Weapons. You hear that, F.R.I.D.A.Y? Underline that. Weapons. W-E-A-P-O-N-S. I just won the spelling bee."

A chuckle falls from her lips– such predictable Tony humor. But then she glances at the notes he'd scrawled in a black pen about her brother, Keanu, and she feels the air rush out of her like a punch to the gut. His handwriting is so personal, such a close piece of him that soon her stomach is twisting, twisting, twisting, to the point where it's almost painful. She's almost certain that she can still smell the ink wafting from the paper.

"Lena!"

Lena jolts out of her trance, cramming the papers into the folder and shoving it back under her bed frame. She zips her suitcase and yanks it off of her mattress. "Coming!"

The Riveras are in a frenzy. Pa is going with them to the airport, but Ma has to stay behind because there isn't enough room in Mrs. Seager's van for all of them. It seems that Ma is nearly as frantic as Lena even though she's not going on the trip. Her short hair is tied back into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck, most of the dark brown strands falling out and into her face. Her thin eyebrows are pinched together but lose their tension when she sees her daughter walking out of her room.

"Finally!" she sighs, shaking her head. "I was about to call your teacher and have him cancel your flight, but then your father reminded me that we've already paid for this trip."

Lena knows that Ma is just being dramatic, but part of her doesn't doubt the fact that she would actually call and cancel the trip. She tugs her red suitcase into the kitchen and releases the handle so she can hug her mother. As she scoops the smaller woman into her arms, Lena wonders if part of her is apprehensive about letting her daughter out of the country after the snap. After all, her parents had just gotten back from the Philippines on their anniversary when...

"Be safe, make good choices, and stick with a buddy at all times," Ma whispers, which she's said a thousand times already. She squeezes Lena even tighter. "Try to call whenever you can. Mahal kita."

Lena's heartstrings tug. "I will. Mahal kita."

And then, just like that, she and Pa are walking down the hallway to the elevators, and she's leaving her apartment behind.

Ma hadn't been lying when she said that the Seager family was waiting outside. Lena sees the familiar blue van as soon as she steps out the front door to her apartment complex, complete with the windows rolled down and twins Max and Owen waving enthusiastically at her. It still takes her brain a moment to recognize them since they're older than she remembers. In the time that it takes her to connect the dots, Graham has yanked them both back into the vehicle and climbed over their laps to wave at her even more dramatically. The sight makes her grin and return their enthusiasm.

After a few minutes of riding, though, Lena soon realizes that being crowded into the cramped van is not her ideal start to her trip. Five years ago, things like this worked— two teenagers and two eleven-year-olds could manage to squeeze in together. But now, with four seventeen-year-olds plus Mr. and Mrs. Seager and Pa, it's a miracle they all fit.

"Ow!" Lena cries as Max's elbow hits her square in the eye— or, at least, she's pretty sure it's Max. They've gotten harder to tell apart since Lena missed most of their pubescent development. She cranes her neck around while rubbing her aching eye and looks for the telltale difference between the otherwise identical brothers: the dimple above Max's lip. When she discovers it, she shouts, "Max! Watch where you're swinging your arms!"

"Owen pushed me!" Max defends, giving his twin a swift kick that has Owen yelping in pain. "Asshole."

"Watch your mouth," Mrs. Seager chastises from the driver's seat.

"So Graham is allowed to swear and I'm not?" he asks irritably, a frown pulling down his lips.

"Don't drag me into this," Graham says. He, having been used to this after dealing with it for so long, merely sits calmly among the chaos with his earbuds shoved into his ears. Lena guesses he's listening to a piano song he's trying to memorize. Judging by his relaxed posture, that's probably the case.

Owen reaches over and tweaks his twin brother's ear. Since they stick out a little bit, they've always been an easy target for either Graham or one of the twins during a fight. Lena remembers an instance where Max and Owen had battled over the television remote and pulled on each other's ears until they both got grounded while she and Graham sat and watched with a bowl of popcorn.

The rest of the ride to the airport is less eventful, mostly because Mrs. Seager plays classical music for the boys to listen to— all three of them are musically gifted, with Graham hoping to get into Juilliard. He'd been accepted, but that was before the snap— before he'd gotten five years ripped from him. Now he has to audition again and hope he gets in.

The airport is a whirlwind of chaos. Lena and the Seager boys say goodbye to their parents, with Lena giving Pa a hug and pretending not to notice how he grips onto her a little too tightly like he doesn't want to let her go. But then she catches sight of Mr. Harrington waving frantically at them from the line for baggage check, and then she has to pull away from her father.

Max and Owen seem beyond exhilarated. Out of the four of them, Lena is the only one who's flown. She feels a punch to her gut upon remembering the quinjet she'd taken to Wakanda. She'd been so nervous about the oncoming battle that she hadn't actually thought about her feelings toward planes. Maybe she'd felt less afraid on the jet because it moved faster than the average aircraft, and she'd also been surrounded by Avengers. But now, sitting for eight hours and spending most of that time soaring over the open ocean...

"Hey, guys!" Mr. Harrington greets with an over-ecstatic wave. Her old Decathlon team moderator still hasn't ditched the "stressed uncle" aesthetic of his clothing options: a white newsboy cap, rumpled blue button-down, brown jacket, and messenger bag complete with his frameless glasses make him look as unhinged as always. There's a distinct look to him that constantly makes it seem like he'd just rolled out of bed.

The twins share his enthusiasm in their greeting, Graham gives a tired grunt, and Lena waves distractedly because her eyes are finding Peter. He stands next to Ned and is already looking when she meets his gaze. It makes butterflies erupt in her stomach, especially when MJ glances between them with an eyebrow raised.

Brad looks suddenly uncomfortable upon Lena's arrival. She takes that as a win.

"Alright, that's everyone," Mr. Dell announces, a horrendously annotated book titled Witchcraft in Venice clutched in his hand. He's a tall man of relatively thin nature, his face narrow and signature mustache always on display. His bald head shines with the bright lighting overhead and the thin layer of stress-sweat already accumulating on his dark skin. "That's good luck that nobody got lost— maybe the witches are leaving us alone. It's a sign!"

Lena shakes her head at his superstition.

"Lena!" Cindy exclaims, elbowing past Brad to reach her. The girl's smile is infectious, lighting up her entire face as she wraps Lena into a hug. They pull away enough for her to ask a question. "What seat are you in?"

She glances down and reads the ticket that Mr. Harrington had just given her. "Uh, 16D."

Cindy frowns in disappointment. "19A. Guess we won't be sitting by each other."

Lena flickers her gaze around their cluster of students, wondering which one of them she'll be stuck with for eight hours straight.

Luckily, the nanotech suit on her chest doesn't set off any alarms. She ghosts a hand over it as she boards the plane, sending a mental thank-you to Tony for the millionth time since his passing. The action makes her feel closer to him somehow. It's like touching anything associated with him makes it seem like he's still here, ready to provide guidance or give her a much-needed wakeup call.

Then she blinks and she's at her seat-— one in the middle row of the plane, and an aisle one nonetheless. She shrugs, guessing it's not the worst seat in the world, especially when Abe approaches her with a wide grin after she sits down.

"Looks like we're plane buddies," he says, slipping past her and plopping into the seat to her right. "Have you ever flown before?"

"Once," Lena admits, rubbing her palms together anxiously through her knees. "But this plane is a lot bigger."

"I've visited Ghana a few times since I moved here," Abe informs her as he sets his backpack under the seat in front of him. "It gets better with time, I promise."

She nods, appreciating his reassuring words. The plane is quickly filling up with passengers, and if she's being honest, she's starting to feel a little claustrophobic. The information on the small screen tells her it's a full flight. Her brain immediately starts to assume the worst. What if she starts one of her shaking fits and all of the restrooms are full? What if she expels too much energy and ends up hurting someone on the plane?

Lena forces herself to snap out of it. She can't be thinking like this— it's not going to do her any good.

"Hey, Parker!" Flash's voice comes from the first-class section, standing haughtily with a glass of golden champagne in his hand. "This is called an airplane. It's like the buses you're used to, except it flies over the poor neighborhoods instead of driving through them."

MJ, who had been walking past Peter, stops and addresses the flight attendant standing near Flash. "Ma'am, he got blipped, so technically he's sixteen, not twenty-one."

The flight attendant turns to Flash with a tight smile at his attempt at fooling her. "I'll take that."

He points at MJ as the woman walks away with his champagne, firing out, "No, she's lying! I don't even know this girl—"

Flash chases after her, making Lena snort along with Abe.

Betty approaches them from the opposite side of their row, eyebrows furrowed as she looks at her ticket and then at Abe. "I think that's my seat."

"What?" Abe asks, digging his own ticket out of his backpack. He finally tugs the crumpled thing out and reads it over again. His posture slumps. "Oh, you're right, Betty. I'm so sorry about that."

"It's fine!" the blonde chirps, sounding more enthusiastic than she looks as Abe scoots over into seat 17F. Lena's spirits deflate a little. She likes Betty, of course, but the plane ride would have been more fun if she'd been next to Abe. Betty's never really been easy for her to relate to. While Lena is all wild style and loud, Betty is the opposite. But maybe this flight will be the perfect opportunity to get to know her better.

That idea goes downhill as soon as Ned approaches them.

"Hey, guys," he greets, getting all three of their attention as he wrings his hands almost nervously. "Um, there's an old lady sitting in front of us wearing a crazy amount of perfume and it's kind of setting off Peter's allergies. Uh, you know, so... Betty, if you could just switch places with him, that'd be—"

Betty inclines her head in incredulity, blue eyes squinting. "He's allergic to perfume?"

Ned has a weird smile on his face that Lena recognizes all too well. It's the same 'I'm-covering-for-Peter' look that she's seen millions of times before, causing her to raise a suspicious brow at his excuse. She wears perfume all the time and it's never seemed to bother Peter.

The boy blinks rapidly in response to Betty's question. "Yeah, yeah! 'Cause, um, it makes his eyes water, and he can't really s—"

Mr. Harrington's head pops up from the row in front of theirs. "You said Peter has a perfume allergy?"

"Oh, uh—" Ned tries to backtrack, but their chaperone is already unbuckling his seatbelt and standing up.

"Perfume allergies are no joke— I can feel hives breaking out already." Mr. Harrington points to her as he climbs his way to the aisle. "Lena, stand up. Ned, take Lena's spot. Lena, you take my spot. Peter, come back here with me; let's get you out of there. Max and Owen, you take Ned and Peter's seats."

Lena does as she's told, grabbing her bag and taking a step forward to slip into Mr. Harrington's seat. Only she stops short upon seeing Brad sitting in the aisle spot. She stifles back a groan and gives him a strained smile of civility as she slides past him and into the uncomfortable chair.

"Hi," Brad says tentatively, testing the waters after their last interaction of her stomping on his foot and punching him in the crotch. She notices him shaking his sneaker as if warding off a phantom pain.

"Hi," she replies in a clipped tone, more concerned with the way Peter slumps past them with a dejected expression on his face.

"Uh, I have a dual headphone adaptor if you want to watch a movie," Brad offers, bringing her attention back to him. He holds up a small wire that has two headphone jacks. In all honesty, she's surprised that headphones even still exist. They'd been nearly out of "style" before the snap.

"No thanks," she declines politely. "I have comedy specials downloaded onto my phone. I'll be good."

"Okay."

"Yeah."

The painful awkwardness ends when Lena puts her headphones in and drowns out the sound of the safety video that plays on every screen. If one thing is for sure, this is going to be a long flight.

-♕-

And it does end up being a long one. Lena's eyes keep involuntarily drifting to Brad's phone every time his shoulders shake with laughter, discovering he's watching one of her favorite movies from before the snap— Now You See Me. It only makes her angry. Screw Brad for having redeeming qualities when he'd gotten onto her bad side.

Now she's just glad to be off the plane and in a place where she can properly stretch her long legs. Lena grabs onto Graham's shoulder for support as she bends her leg behind her and stretches her thigh muscles, sighing in relief at the pleasant burn.

Just to freeze when she sees Betty kiss Ned on the cheek. She frantically slaps Graham's arm to get his attention, pointing at them just in time for Graham to witness Ned boop Betty on the nose.

"What the hell?" Graham asks.

Betty walks away, presumably thinking that Ned is following her, because she turns around after a few paces and frowns when she doesn't see him there. Her gaze latches onto where he still stands with Peter. "Babe!"

"Coming, babe!" Ned replies cheerfully before scurrying after her.

Lena sets her leg down and walks toward Peter, who looks just about as dumbfounded as she does. Good— maybe she isn't the only one who thinks that that had come out of nowhere.

"What just happened?" she inquires, creasing her eyebrows as she watches Ned holding Betty's hand as they wait for her suitcase to come around the conveyor belt.

Peter blinks. "Uh, I guess they really clicked on the plane and now they're dating."

Lena twists her mouth to the side. "Well, good for him. My plane ride was terrible and awkward."

"Mine was, too, if it's any consolation."

But Peter doesn't look bothered. In fact, he almost seems relieved.

Once all of their baggage is claimed, Mr. Harrington leads them through the bustling airport. Lena starts off walking beside Peter. However, one of the security guards' German Shepards approaches him and sniffs his bag. Lena frowns when he's asked to step aside so they can check his suitcase. She hesitates, about to wait for him, when he catches her eye and waves her along.

"Okay, the boat rental should be... this way!" Mr. Harrington says, pointing to the group's left. He suddenly stops and whirls around to face them once more. "Wait! First, let me do a count." The teenagers cluster together and stand still so they can be counted. Their chaperone scans his eyes over them, eyebrows furrowing when he comes up short. "Where's Peter?"

"Isn't that always the golden question?" Flash asks wryly. Lena notices that he's livestreaming already, panning his camera around the airport as he narrates what's happening and referring to his audience as "Flash Mob."

Before Lena can explain that he got held back, Peter's voice calls out, "I'm here! I'm here!"

"Oh, thank goodness." Mr. Harrington pats him on the shoulder. "Now we can go."

Graham stays still so the others pass him, leaning in close to Peter to ask, "What was that about?"

"May packed my suit," Peter answers in dismay. "I didn't want to bring it— not when this is the first break I've had in forever."

Lena's forehead creases. "The dog smelled your suit?"

"No, uh..." The tips of Peter's ears turn pink. "I had a banana."

She rolls her eyes fondly, a smile creeping up onto her face.

It immediately falls when they step outside.

Lena hadn't prepared herself well enough for this. Even though she's spent weeks telling herself she'd be fine here, seeing the canals running through Venice is enough to make her heart start pounding immediately. Her face drains of color as her classmates begin to board their rented motor boat. It's a relatively small one with short sides and nothing to keep them strapped in.

Cindy climbs inside, meeting her gaze after she turns around. A smile lights up her face as she motions toward her. "Come on, Lena! You've got this!"

"I don't think I've got this," Lena mumbles under her breath, more to herself than anyone. She finds her right hand subconsciously brushing over the metal on her chest. It's invisible under her loose t-shirt; to anyone else, it probably just seems like an itch.

Someone taking her opposite hand jolts her. She turns to see Peter threading their fingers together and giving her a smile of encouragement at the same time he squeezes her hand. "You do have this. And I'll — we'll be here the entire time."

His cheeks burn as he hastily corrects his mistake. Lena is acutely aware of her clammy palms and hopes their texture isn't too noticeable as she allows Peter to guide her onto the boat.

Once she's on it, she decides she'll be relatively okay as long as she shuts her eyes. That is, until Flash jumps onto the boat and lands with more force than necessary, causing it to rock under their feet and for Lena to grab onto the sides of Peter's sweatshirt with both hands. He automatically curls an arm around her waist to steady her in case she falls.

"What's wrong, Santos?" Flash jeers as he unceremoniously collapses onto one of the benches. "Parents never paid for swim lessons?"

"Don't make me push you off and see who can swim, Flash," Graham threatens, stepping onto the boat with much more caution.

"Children!" Mr. Harrington interrupts. "There will be no pushing each other off of the boats! Your parents would kill me if one of you drowned."

Lena realizes she's still holding onto Peter for dear life and abruptly releases him, fingers aching from how tightly she'd been clenching her fists. Peter's eyes widen as he takes note of his arm looped around her waist. He clears his throat and releases her.

"Uh, where do you want to sit?" he asks, scratching his ear.

Lena wordlessly sits on the bench behind her because it's the closest. Peter joins her on her left while Graham sits to her right, boxing her in so she isn't close to the water. Her heart thunders in her chest as their driver eases the boat forward. She squeezes her eyes shut so tightly she can see swirls of purple and yellow behind her eyelids, her only clue of movement being the wind that blows her hair back and the slight bounce of the waves they glide over.

She hears her classmates whooping and cheering. Sometimes there's the click of a camera. But Lena can't bring herself to partake in this bit of fun, scrunching up her face and locking arms with Graham and Peter, her two solid rocks in this situation.

The breeze dies down as they enter one of the busier canals. Lena notices that her ears become filled with chatter and boat motors instead of the sound of whistling wind, meaning they must be getting close to their hotel.

"Uh." Max's voice breaks through Lena's focus on her still-rapid heartbeat and cold extremities.

"Looks like we're here!" Mr. Harrington announces cheerfully just as the boat's motor sputters, making a fresh wave of ice-cold terror flood through Lena's chest at the noise.

"Oh, this is trash!" one of the younger kids comments.

Lena hadn't known what she'd been expecting before she opened her eyes, but what's in front of her hadn't been it. The exterior sign says nothing but HOTEL in letters that look like they were painted twenty years ago and never touched up on again. Gaping holes in the brick are barely covered by tattered plastic sheets that flap in the wind, complemented with rusty pipes jutting from them.

Mr. Harrington tries to keep up his optimistic façade. "Looks like they're doing some renovations to the place, making some upgrades!"

Lena is usually never one to complain about living situations, but as she steps into the lobby, she realizes that this place isn't just shabby— it seems totally unsafe. The entryway is flooded with a single plank of wood to use as a bridge across the water. A stray cat sits at one of the plastic tables shoved toward the back and meows at them insistently. The air smells like still water, making her wrinkle her nose in distaste as the stench invades her senses.

"Alright, everybody!" Mr. Dell says to get their attention as he waves the reluctant students further inside. "Drop your bags off. We're gonna meet at the Da Vinci Museum at three! Let's go, let's go!"

"Vamonos!" Mr. Harrington incorrectly adds.

"It's andiamo." MJ corrects.

"Andiamo!"

As Lena walks on the wood to cross the small river in the lobby, Mr. Dell says, "When in Rome, we do as the Romans do. When in Venice, your socks get wet!"

Lena and Cindy are roommates as always.Though, Lena supposes, they've never been in a room as small as this one. It's home to nothing more than two mattresses on cheap metal frames and a sink between them. Their windows are boarded up so only a few slivers of light can come in. The dark wallpaper only makes the room seem smaller, and as they step inside, it appears to shrink even more. The two girls quickly throw their suitcases onto their rickety beds, not wanting to spend more time than absolutely necessary in this place that seems like it's about to fall apart.

"You ready?" Cindy asks, face cheerful and yet encouraging.

Lena puffs out a sigh. "I guess I don't have a choice, but no, I'm not ready."

Cindy offers her arm. Lena loops hers through it so their elbows are interlocked, allowing the shorter girl to lead her back into the hallway. "Don't worry, you're stronger than you think."

Lena isn't so sure about that. When it comes to water, it's the one fear she can't seem to beat.

__________

a/n:

hello, all! i'm so sorry that this update took so long. college is drop-kicking my ASS and classes only started three weeks ago. in fact, i should be doing some assigned reading right now, but i wanted to get this up.

i'm not too happy with this chapter because of how much jumping around it does, but i think this part of the movie had the most jump cuts and everything should be fairly smooth from now on. i tried my best to create bridges between the cuts because those were so annoying, my god.

another note: expect a trailer at some point! i finally got a download of FFH thanks to mystixhills and i should be able to make the trailer within the next month.

another another note: the incredibly talented and lovely DelvaRelva made the fanart below! i've been waiting to show this to you guys since she sent it to me after i posted the previous chapter. i love it so much!!

also, in case you missed it, here's my OC's as vines (featuring some graham & lena)

https://youtu.be/653sh9V4Sa0

thank you all for being so patient!

—kristyn

TRANSLATIONS:

Mahal kita: I love you