"It's pretty simple," Natasha says one more time, stepping up to a fighting stance again. "Just aim for the jaw."

"I am," I grumble, pulling the gloves tighter as a habit. The tight red gloves cinch oddly over my rocky hands, but at least my limbs no longer feel quite like the monstrosity that they are.

"Again," Natasha prompts, nodding. "Aim for my face. A simple jab like you did on the dummy earlier."

"The dummy didn't have a face or a moving body," I reply, getting into position.

"And go!" She says, decidedly ignoring my apathetic remark.

I bounce back and forth on my feet for a second before springing forwards, my left hand coming out before pulling back in and allowing my right hand my power. I thrust the fist towards Natasha's jaw with as much power as I can muster, letting out a small yell of frustration. It almost connects before Natasha steps back, spinning and grabbing my wrist in a lock.

"See, I can't punch you when you move," I say, pulling my hand away and shaking it out.

"Do you think whoever you're fighting is going to just stay still and wait for them to take you down?" Natasha tightens her sleeve before turning to the table and tossing me a water bottle. "You need to be flexible. Anticipate their next movement. Always be one step ahead."

"How can I be one step ahead when I always feel like I'm one step behind?" I take a long drink from the bottle before setting it down. "Besides, can't I just use my fire?"

"You can't always rely on your power in a fight," Natasha says. "What happens if you're fighting someone with ice, or the ability to take away all of your abilities? Then you have to fall back on simple techniques."

"Like you do?" I sense the question might be bad almost immediately, and Natasha turns away.

"My power is my fighting," she says slowly. "You've done enough for today, Althea. Why don't you go get some rest?"

I don't argue with her, and leave the room quickly.

"Hey, Althea right?"

I turn from my place at the kitchen counter to find that Spider-boy standing sheepishly in the doorway.

"That's me," I say, slipping down from my bar stool. "Peter?"

"Yep!" He has this little sense of positivity around him, like a bouncing ball. It's endearing. "Urm, Mr. Stark sent me. He said that I should help you get some stuff for your new home while he and Pepper fill out the adoption forms."

"So…" I smirk a little. "You're supposed to take me shopping."

"Mr. Stark figured it would be okay, seeing as you have gloves now," Peter says, blushing a little while gesturing to my hands. Tony was right. In October, New York City, no one would be suspicious of gloves.

I nod. "Okay, Spider-boy. You can take me shopping."

"It's actually, um, Spider-man…"

"Sure then." I grin. "Let's go." I wave my fingers in the air as I walk towards my room for my shoes. "If I'm here any longer, I might burn up."

Peter gulps.

Manhattan is beautiful.

Sure, it's not the beauty of turquoise waters on pristine beaches like in Hawaii, but it's it's own beauty. The tall, clean, metallic buildings shooting up, the people bustling and the roar of noises… it gives the city its own splendor and appeal.

Peter seems to finally relax, walking down the streets. I'd pester him about why he was carrying around a backpack on a Saturday, but he wouldn't relent. I had a feeling it had something to do with the red and blue sleeve I'd seen sticking out of it earlier though.

"So, you're from around here?" I ask, sticking my gloved hands into my pockets.

"Yeah," Peter says, looking ahead of us. "You?"

"Hawaii, born and raised." I smile softly a little. "The big island."

"What was it like?" Peter asks, getting excited again. "I've always wanted to go to Hawaii, but growing up my aunt didn't have much money…"

"It was fine," I say, shrugging. "It doesn't feel like paradise, y'know, because you think it's normal. After school, I did my homework before running out and swimming with my friends for a few hours. It was just my routine."

"After school, I normally just build Legos with my friend," Peter says, before clearing his throat in embarrassment. "I mean, um, yeah, me too."

I laugh a little. "So what did Tony say to buy?"

"Clothes, shoes," Peter recites, counting on his fingers. "Furniture, and electronics."

"I already have-" I stopped. I was still picturing my old stuff in my old room, with it's simple white woven bed and chair, wooden desk, and small dresser.

I shook my head. This was my chance to start fresh, start new! Get everything I ever wanted… which included ditching my crappy iPhone 4.

I follow Peter into the Apple Store, feeling a forced sense of rejuvenation. But who cares if it was forced? It was still happening.

"How are we going to pay for this?" I hiss to Peter.

I've never felt more wealthy than standing in line at this fancy building, clutching a new phone, laptop, and tablet.

"Mr. Stark gave us a card," Peter says, pulling it out from his backpack.

"But this must cost thousands!"

"Mr. Stark can handle it," Peter says, a slightly dreamy tone invading his normal one.

I marvel at that statement. How rich can you be if buying a basketful of electronics is just 'handling it', especially in such a passive tone?

We step up to the register, and I watch as everything goes through, and the swipe of the card barely takes any time at all. We're done in a minute, and I step outside into the biting wind with a smile on my face as I tug my gloves up.

That is, until a car nearly knocks me over. I duck and pull Peter down with me as the car barely skims our heads before slamming into the sidewalk behind us. There are screams and cries, and Peter pulls me up and into an alley.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says frantically, starting to peel off his clothes.

"Peter!"

"I'm sorry!" He says, zipping open his backpack and quickly pulling on a blue and red suit that he frantically slams the center to fit his body. I watch as he turns to me, frantically panting. "Okay, um, Althea, stay here."

"I'm not staying here!" I burst. "I want to help!"

"You're not going to help!" Peter says, shocked. "Mr. Stark said I should take care of you!"

"Don't bother, Peter!" I say, taking off my gloves. "You go help, but I'm coming with you."

"You can't-"

"Shut it." I push him out onto the street, little rocks from my palms sticking onto his suit. I can feel my anger box in the back of my mind alighting, and I smile. I needed it now. Peter still looks hesitant, because the eyes of his suit keep resizing. I push him along, and we turn the block.

There's something obscured in the middle of the street, wrapping around cars and lamps. There are people screaming in every direction, but I can still hear the low rumble coming from the center of the vortex.

"Peter!" I scream above the roar. "Get me above that thing!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea Al-"

"Do it!"

Peter wraps his arm around my waist and sends a freaking.. Net? to attach to the side of a building. I'm pulled along with him as we speed towards the stone wall. He absorbs the impact right on time, and I fall against him. I almost laugh at the awkward position we're in, but that was before I look down.

The black figure from my simulation, the one implanted in my mind, stands in the eye of the whirling hurricane. And it's looking right at me.

"Child," it whispers once, before closing its hand. I fall out of Peter's arms, and it the midst of the shock, and I can feel myself swallowed with fire before the world goes black.