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         Salt air was mixed with the fumes of garbage and smoke, typical city smells, as the ocean met with New York City

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Salt air was mixed with the fumes of garbage and smoke, typical city smells, as the ocean met with New York City. Sitting on a roof, nearby smoke stacks, were Peter and Kennedy, in clear view of the docks. Neither teen spoke; Peter had completely removed his mask, his face horribly depressed while Kennedy, sitting only a few inches away from him, was opening and closing her mouth but not a single word came out, her heart in her throat as she struggled to breath calmly, knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

"I'm sorry, Kennedy," Peter's voice was so quiet Kennedy almost thought she imagined it.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Peter's eyes were framed red as unshed tears wavered within them, his voice exhausted beyond belief as he looked down at his lap, unable to make eye contact with Kennedy. "This -- this is all my fault. I'm the one who texted you to come do this with me, I'm the one who thought we could take this on, I'm -- "

"Peter," Kennedy said his name for the first time, his real name as she shook her head slightly. "Shut up."

"I -- what?"

"Stop blaming yourself," Kennedy told him quietly, blinking away her own tears as she struggled to keep up her facade of being strong and independent. "It's not your fault. I should have known better. I'm the one whose been a hero for, like, ever," she laughed darkly, running a hand through her hair. "If I hadn't been so stuck on wanting to impress my dad, wanting to show him I could do this hero stuff... "

She cut herself off, sniffing quietly as she turned her head from Peter, frantically wiping at the tear that had leaked out of her eye, not wanting for him to see her as she slowly fell apart.

"I guess it's both of our faults, huh?" Peter's smile wavered as he forced Kennedy to look back at him, his smile just was watery and depressed as the look in his eyes.

"Yeah."

Silence filled the air between the two teens as soon as the words left Kennedy's lips, neither of them having anything worth saying. Rather than the tension that had once been thick between the two of them stretching, nothing but heart wrenching depression was there.

"Kennedy."

Furiously wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands, Kennedy scrambled upwards, wishing her eyes weren't as red and bloodshot as she felt they were as she stumbled to her feet. Hovering slightly over the ground was Tony himself, his emotions unreadable as he landed on the ground in front of her, Kennedy opening her mouth, ready to speak.

"Dad, I -- "

"I don't want to hear it," Tony held up one hand. "I have no more time for your excuses, Kennedy! Now, Mr. Parker and I need to have a little discussion -- go home, now."

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