[ON HOLD] Mayhem| Peter Parker

four. what makes a hero

•CHAPTER FOUR•
what makes a hero

A BRIEF TOUCH OF skin against metal and Regan's nerves practically light on fire. It's as if her veins are bursting at the seams, electricity winding through and flaring up from the contact of a small piece of exposed flesh at her neck to whatever she rests against.

Her reaction is immediate, jumping up with a startle that has her head whacking off whatever is behind: some kind of kid's metal climbing structure. The sudden movement sends a fresh tremor of pain through her body and she winces, vision going fuzzy for a moment. She presses her palms to her eyes, grumbling wearily at the dull thudding that resonates in her head.

It takes a second to recollect her thoughts of where she is and what just happened, but a voice pitches in and acts like an instigator, the memories now running over her all at once like a speeding train- which is exactly what it feels like she must have just been hit by. Unfortunately, that voice happens to belong to the person she least wants to be around right now.

"Woah, hey, are you okay?"

Regan physically needs to not respond for a second over the anger that wells up in her chest at the sound of Spider-Man. As far as she's concerned, it's his fault they even ended up having to chase the van and get dropped in the lake. If only he could have acted like an Avenger- what he supposedly is- and known not to bring his phone. If he can proudly wear around a suit like that and crawl up any building he wants, why is it that he can't even possess basic common sense?

"Yeah," she hisses, now beginning to drop her hands back down, "what part of being dropped in a lake from hundreds of feet wouldn't I love?"

"Alright, sleeping beauty, you're either dead or you're not, I don't need any extra dramatics."

The sound of a new voice has Regan snapping her head up in an instant, but the tremble of pain that jolts through her body doesn't cancel out the annoyance over who else stands- or, she supposes, hovers, would be more accurate- there.

Iron Man, clad in his famous gold and red suit, has no playful or amused tone in his voice. In fact, he sounds like he's just as annoyed at them as Regan is at Spider-Man. An orange-tinted flame shoots out from his back, which keeps him hovering, and it suddenly makes Regan feel ten times colder. From her mask (that thankfully stayed on through the whole chase) to the entire suit and shoes, she's completely soaked. Most of the hair in her bun has fallen free and dangles limply around her face. Drips of water from the ends, that may as well be ice, slip down through the collar of the suit. Even the night air that had felt pleasant earlier now floods her with chills that have her fighting to stop chattering teeth.