Ok I am kinda stuck on Cold Blood so I'm starting a story that has been in my head for a while. It has Stony in it and some Phil Natasha Clint 3 way going soooo.. Yea don't likey don't ready. Anyway ON WITH THE FAN FICTION!
I'm winded and breathing heavily from running. That was a close call. The security guard almost got me. I just made it back to ally were sleeping in tonight. "Pete" I call softly. "Sissy!" comes the exuberant reply, as my grinning little brother jumps up and looks at me expectantly. I hold up the bag of stolen pastries and hotdogs. His eyes light up when sees this two favorite we scavenge from Dumpsters outside of restaurants and nab stale loafs of bread or day old fries, maybe if we are lucky something with meat in it. But on my little brothers birthday he will get the best I can give him, even if its not close to what he deserves.
He's 11 years old for God's sake! He should have a normal kids life. But unlike normal kids who have parents and family we are on our own. Except for each other we can't trust anyone. See when he was 6 and I was 9 our dad was shot by a guy who broke in to our Queens flat. I need to thank the shooter doing us a favor and killing that abusive asshole. When he was killed Mom was so devastated that she killed herself. I will never forgive that bitch for swallowing a bullet and leaving us to the wolves. Then we went to live with our only remaining family, Ben and May Parker. They were sweet and kind to us. That was some of the best time in my life, living with them. They never hit us or called us worthless or freaks because we have special powers like the things Mom and Dad did. But Aunt May died of cancer when I was 10. Not along time after that Uncle Ben had a heart attack. He was stuck in the hospital on life support for a week before they unplugged him.
Then the state of New York transferred us into whatever nincompoop runs New Jersey's orphaned kids program. They then shipped us off to a shitty orphanage. From there we moved from foster home to foster home. See I am apparently a "troubled child". Its another reason we move around so much. So in our last foster home they tried to drug me out. I was on like 5 different meds. That was the line. I woke Peter up and told him too pack. We were leaving this hellhole.
We ran back too New York. We have learned how to Street Fight, how to steal. We've been lucky really. I''ll run drugs if I have too. Once or twice I've had to sell my ass for food. That was not pleasant. But that's how we live out here in the Streets.
We were leaving a press conference about the Avengers Initiative when it happened. It was about eight o'clock so there was only a bit of sunlight left but of course all the streetlamps and neon signs were on so we could easily see out side. One of the nosy reporters shoved her mic strait in Bruce"s face and said "Is it true that you attempted to kill the Avengers?" "No I did not attempt anything to harm the Avengers" he said forcibly shaking from the anger of sitting through questions like these all day. I don't blame him. These modern day reporters have no respect whatsoever. But the blonde continued, "Then why did the report" she says as she holds up a Shield secret file that she shouldn't have " Say you injured several of them"
And the dam breaks lose. Natasha tackles the green Bruce as he's changing. The reporter shrieks and all the interviewers run for the door except for us. The Shield agents close off the floor while Tony calls the Iron Man suit. Clint nocks some sedative arrows. The Hulk roars and I have to duck to avoid a flying black conference table. "Hulk" I yell "stand down" But all I get is a "Smash tiny lady" This situation has just escalated dangerously. Tony shows up in his overly flashy tin can and screams over the com "Look out Hawkeye" But he's too late. The arrow Clint shot hits its target, The Hulk perfectly. But Hulk backhands Clint pinning him up into a glass wall. His left leg is injured badly and is leaning on the wall heavily. The the Hulk moves to strike him. I see Hawkeye dodge the punch and breath a sigh of relief. Until I see the glass shatter and watch Clint slowly fall 80 storys toward the solid concrete.
Cliffy! But don't worry I will atemp more of this fic soon. And to people who like cold blood I will update that too. Love ya. Reviews and flames are appreciated.