"I need it, please," I begged, looking into the eyes of Tony Stark. He gave me an odd look, huffed and went back to his project.

It had been a few days since I had seen the indication of Loki and every waking moment was filled with dread. He would probably see me as his enemy... Or maybe he had remembered. Maybe he was coming back for me. However, I couldn't be foolish with the little trust I had in the shell of what was once my father. Castor had reminded me serval times that once I erased their memories, I had erased any connections with them.

I tried hard to convince that to myself. But it wasn't something you could cut off easily.

"Look Moonshine-"

"Tony please!" I cried, grabbing onto his leg like a child, as far as legs go his weren't bad...

"Moonshine!" He groaned, trying to shake me off.

"TONY I WILL RIP OFF YOUR FACE AND USE IT AS UNDERWEAR IF YOU DO NO DO THIS FOR ME!" I shrieked.

His mouth opened in a shocked 0, his eyes shimmered with betrayal. "Why, why would you do that? My beautiful face," his fingers brushed his jaw.

"Because I need this, Tony," I pleaded, shaking his leg. "I don't care if you guys are sniping me from ten meters away, I need an hour outside,"

Yeah maybe I was a bit dramatic.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll see what I can do,"

"Yay!" I squealed like a child and ran off.

The Avengers eventually gave in, even though it took a few days. Natasha and Clint being the most reluctant. But once they were assured about all the new technology on my cuffs they grudgingly agreed. I was allowed one hour only, Tony made that extremely clear.

"I'll be watching by your cuffs," Tony said, delicately scanning them with a rectangular device, obviously looking for any malfunctions. "Bruce will be watching from base, and the rest of them will be on standby, if you screw up you have thirty-eight seconds to run. You have one hour from when you step out of Stark Tower."

"Thank you," I whispered and spared a glance at the rest of them. Bruce was dressed in a loose fitting white formal shirt which was crumpled, and jeans, he gave a gentle smile. Steve was dressed in civilian clothing -a navy hoodie and jeans- watching me with obvious suspicion. Clint wore something relatively the same a guarded expression, emphasised with his sunglasses. Natasha was leather-clad, a red shirt peeked from underneath her jacket, an icily expression was firmly set upon her face. Thor wore a casual smart clothing, as if her were about to go to a job interview then to a party later, he had a neutral expression on his face. Obviously deeply conflicted in his thoughts. Tony wore an open buttoned suit with his white shirt ironed and neatly cleaned, the absence of scotch throwing me off.

I spun on my heel and walked out of the Tower, New York air hit me like a wave. Thick, muggy, and polluted, despite the oncoming Winter. Men and women briskly pushed their way past, all needing somewhere to be. Cellphones and briefcases glued to their palms.

The cafes outside the Tower were crowded with fans hoping to get a glance at an appearance of Tony or any of the Avengers. Despite the Chitauri attack, the city was rebuilding well and there was a façade of normality.

But it was sensible in the air, the way passerbys glanced at the Avengers Tower with a wary eye. They way mothers ushered their children closer to them, the pace of walking in the passers. They were on edge, waiting for another invasion, another attack. It didn't take any abilities to know that the civilians didn't believe the lies fed to them by the government.

I started on a brisk pace to Central Park, normally it would take about twenty minutes, I was sure I could get there under twelve.

The street was clustered together of apartments and shops, however people walked on the sidewalks like a hill of ants. Vendor sold things on either side of the street. Constant noise filled my ears; car horns, people shouting, the swift stamp of feet walking, dogs barking, the screech of a car and sometimes you could hear the birds. The air was thick with gasses but there was the fry and pop of oil and the scents of the quaint cafes and shops. Many people walked by; tall, short, large, lean, well dressed, casually dressed, those dressed covered in brands. Skins of every colour and ethnicity passed. Hair was styled into so many different types it was a wonder how people were not completely the same. Compared to the places I'd been, New York was an overload of information.

I reached Central Park and took a seat on the grass, couples and families laid out their picnic blankets. Children ran back and forth tossing frisbees and throwing balls to each other. A four year-old girl in a lacy lemon dress blew bubbles into the air and giggled in delight as she chased after them.

"Hey," A voice from behind me said and I turned to see Peter.

"Hi," I replied shyly.

What's wrong with you? Castor snapped. Can't talk to a normal human being without falling for them?

Shut up.

"Whatcha doing here?" Peter asked, a camera slung over his neck and a backpack over his shoulder.

"Getting away from them," I replied and nodded to the general direction of Stark Tower.

"You never told me what you did," Peter said and sat next to me.

"It's a long story," I admitted.

"I have time," he replied with a smile and butterflies rose in my stomach.

"It's not that I don't trust you, it's that they're listening," I said slowly, "and I don't think they're ready for the truth,"

"Why not?"

"Because I'll become close to them. It'll make them easier to become my weakness and my enemy plans to use me as a tool to hurt them," I said bluntly, promising myself not to cry.

Your so weak, Castor moaned faintly in the background.

"So he's too high above them to get his hands dirty?" Peter asked carefully, slowly piecing it together.

"Yeah," I sighed, "why do you need to waste the energy when you can get others to do it? Particularly when they love them," a sob began to rise in my throat.

Peter pulled me close to him, "it's going to be ok," he murmured.

In his arms I felt at ease, I was not longer jumpy, running at first sight. I felt at home, and something I hadn't felt in a long time. Safe.

An insistent beeping interrupted my moment. I had ten minutes left before my time was up.

"You've gotta go don't you?" Peter said sadly.

"Yeah," I whispered sadly.

"Here have my phone number," Peter passed me a business card.

Peter Parker
Daily Bugle Photographer

"Photographer?" I asked.

"Photography, web design, stuff like that," Peter rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Thanks,"

"That's ok," Peter said and we both walked away.

"And Becky?" Peter called and I turned back to him, "maybe they're ready for the truth,"

A/N: So I decided to update because a) I'm very nice (much sarcasm) b) I hit 500 views and c) @laineyruth left some very nice comments and was the main reason why this book got 500 views.

Stick in there, the next chapter is going to be very amusing (hopefully)