TROUBLE! ━ TASM.

six.

"Don't be mad? Are you insane, or suicidal? Because I am one wrong word away from finding something I can use as a shank and stabbing you, Peter fucking Parker!"

Violet didn't care how loud she was. They were on top of a rooftop in bustling Queens, where cars drove by loudly and people chatted loudly because they could. She could barely hear herself scream.

"Stop! Let me explain! I was going to tell you, but it's a lot more complicated than me getting in a tight get-up!" Peter urged, his eyebrows pressing down in frustration. The last thing he needed in this important moment, but he tried not to let his own emotions show. He didn't need to anger her even more. Violet was a blazing flame at all times, and arguing back was a great way to add water to a grease fire.

She took a deep breath before simply hopping up on the ledge of the building, facing away from the street and kicking her legs. "Okay. I will not talk for one minute. If I do, you have permission to push me off of this roof."

He gave her a blank look. "I'm not pushing you off a roof."

"At this point, I would beg for you to, because what the fuck? Minute starts now, buddy."

The words seemed to come out in a jumble, but she managed to catch most of it. Bitten by a genetically-modified spider his father created, gave him super-good reflexes and senses. Started accepting it the day he embarrassed Flash in the gym. Saw her get hurt, and now he was fighting crime.

Okay, the minute was over early.

"I' m sorry, you kick ass nightly because I foolishly got shot?" She snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Peter noticed, rubbing the back of his neck and absently kicked the ground. Then, he decided to argue back. "Listen, Violet. I saw that night. I saw that man rob that store like it was nothing, running away after shooting you like it wasn't anything. That's how Queens is every night. Murders, assaults, robberies. I mean, you just barely got out of the way of being arrested for shoplifting! You're welcome, you absolute idiot!" He couldn't help but snap back, crossing his arms like a disappointed mother.

She hopped off of the ledge, her finger pointing accusingly as she stepped forward. "Don't talk about me like I'm stupid, Peter. I'm not stupid, and I can care for myself. I don't need you fighting crime solely because you think I am just a victim and suddenly every helpless person reminds you of me!"

"Oh, so you can dodge a bullet, Violet? If a man tried to hustle you for the expensive stuff you shoved in your pockets, with a knife to your throat, could you defend yourself? You are five foot four and one hundred and thirty pounds, with no background in fighting or anything. I have everything I need to protect you, to protect people like you, I don't need scolding for being a good person!" Peter defended, stepping forward until her accusing finger was pressing into the tight material of his Spider-Man suit. The wind blew through his unruly brown hair, sweeping it backwards, and she stared up at him.

And then she raised a hand, bringing the side of her fist towards his chest.

He simply grabbed her wrist, before grabbing the next punch that came hurtling his way. "Violet, please stop. Really, it's embarrassing. I have Spider-Man senses," he deadpanned, giving her a look with one eyebrow cocked up. The smaller girl glanced up at him with nothing but anguish in her eyes, and his head tilted in slight guilt, slight confusion. "What's wrong, Vi?"

The girl took a deep breath, before pulling her arms away from his grip, which he simply let happen. He doubted she'd try to hit him again. "Everybody thinks I can't handle everything. My mom, my dad, you. I'm stronger than I look, you know," she mumbled, giving him a saddened, unknowingly puppy-eyed expression.