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Rating for this chapter: T plus, borderline M for Deadpool's innuendos and language
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...
CHAPTER TWO - Infiltration
…
…
Ex Con Road Trip - Scott Lang
...
It takes several minutes before the kid is finally let out of the joint. He looks like he's swimming in the clothes he was arrested in, a black jacket and jeans, shoes scuffed and worn, cheekbones taut. I'm guessing he didn't eat much.
He looks suspiciously at me waiting by the electric gate, sliding back into place behind him. I notice the flinch in his shoulders when it clatters shut, and the guard that let him out glares daggers at us both.
"Peter Parker," I greet, holding out a hand. "Scott Lang. Nice to meet you."
"Uh - thanks," he says, shaking my hand back. "Who are you exactly?"
"I posted your bail," I say. "I guess that makes me your sugar daddy."
He blinks. "I don't need a sugar daddy."
"I'm joking!" I laugh, grasping both of his shoulders and giving him a little shake. "Ease up! Whew, you're like, really skinny but oddly muscular under that secondhand jacket of yours? Wow. Work out a lot the last few weeks?"
"Yes, I did," Peter squirms out of my hold. "So you posted my bail but I still gotta go back for court in a few weeks so I don't know what the big deal is, or why a total stranger is here to…"
"Charges dropped," I tell him, and he's not surprised. At all. "You already knew that."
"Nope," he shakes his head. "Didn't… know that at all."
"Look, kid," I say, opening the side of the van. "You're going to have to get better at this part of the job to do what you do. Okay?"
"What part?" he asks suspiciously.
"The lying part. You probably know someone, somewhere along the line paid someone else off. Charges dropped and suddenly me - working in security camera installation - has several thousand bucks to post your bail? Come on."
Peter looks into the van carefully. "Hm."
"That's Luis," I say.
Peter nods in greeting at Luis waiting in the front seat. "Hey."
"Ey!" Luis grins at him. "Welcome back to freedom, la cucaracha!"
Peter gives him a strange look, and then gets in the van. I slide the door shut and hop into the passenger seat.
"So who are you guys?" he asks.
"I'm Luis, this is Scott," says Luis.
"I got that part," Peter replies. "I mean, WHO are you?"
I turn around in my seat and give him a smile. "We are your connections. Don't get too excited. We're the nice guys. But you aren't going to be working with nice guys."
"Ah," Peter replies, looking out the window at the passing landscape. It's a very hot day. The van has no A/C.
I unroll the windows. "Luis, let's make a stop."
Luis nods. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"
"Definitely. It's too hot."
"I could really go for a murder spree right now," Luis agrees.
Peter's expression twists, and his head jerks back towards us. "What?" he asks.
Fourteen minutes later, we're at the drive thru.
"I would like three extra large murder sprees please," Luis leans his head out of the window. "Extra LARGE. Yeah, uh, GRANDE? Hello? Yes. Gracias!"
Peter looks like he's about to pop a cork when I hand him back the newest Dairy Queen speciality blizzard.
"You couldn't just say ice cream," he mutters.
"You're welcome," I reply.
"Thank you," he adds hastily.
"All riiiighty," I look at my watch. "We got some time. You wana make another stop?"
"Thai food?" Luis asks hopefully.
"Yeah, no," I blink. Since when has he ever liked Thai food? "The Parker residence."
Peter practically spits out a mouthful of chocolate back into his paper cup. "Wait, what?"
"Last stop before hell, Pete," I say. "You'll want to pack up some of your stuff. Kiss May goodbye. You know. We weren't really supposed to deviate from the itinerary, but…"
"Breaking the rules, you know?" Luis chimes in. "It's sort of what we do."
Peter nods. "Wow, uh, yes. Yeah. Thank you. That would be great."
"Cap is moving her upstate in a few days," I explain. "So she'll be safe. But you won't be able to contact her. We weren't supposed to tell you…"
"We weren't? Isn't that like, bad?" Luis questions. "I mean, bro, I don't know what you're thinkin' exactly, but making Captain America mad wasn't really something I wanted to like, do, y' know?"
I hold out my hands in a guilty expression. "Listen. I just know how hard it is to be doing the whole separated-from-your-loved-ones thing because of the life of crime, okay? Before he gets into this mess, I just," I turn back in my seat and give Peter a knowing expression. "You gotta remember who we do this stuff for. It'll keep you going later. Right?"
"Right," Peter murmurs. "Right."
"And the way I look at it is this," I sigh. "The Avengers are, like, the coolest freakin' guys in the universe, right? They're, totally awesome. But they don't really get, you know, what it's actually like on the other side. Doing time. That sort of thing. We do."
"Yeah, yeah, we do," Luis agrees.
"So it would be weird for you to get out of prison and not immediately go to your Aunt's place. Even if you're just there for a quick shower and asking for cash money before she kicks you out. You know? When someone gets out, they usually go right home."
"Riiiight home, even if no one is home," Luis adds.
"If you didn't, it would look weird. If someone looks at you really closely, like really checks out all your movements before now, they might notice. If a few strangers just picked you up from prison and took you right into a criminal deal to make friends… how desperate does that look? We have to at least look like family friends helping you get back on your feet, trying to find you a job. Otherwise it's weird."
"Pretty weird!" Luis says in a sing song voice.
"I got this," I say to Luis. "This repeating thing? It's uh, it's gotta stop."
"Just emphasizing," Luis protests.
"Anyway," I continue, "It makes way more sense that your Aunt sent us to pick you up and give you a ride. You'll have a few minutes and then we go from there. It might make sense she moves after that, not wanting to be in the same town as her no-good, post-bail nephew."
"This is all like, part of the cover, you know?" Luis says. "A good cover."
"God is in the details," Peter says.
"I thought the quote was the devil is in the details," Luis says confusedly.
"Maybe they share the space," I snap.
"Oooooh, I like that!" Luis taps the steering wheel excitedly. "It's like, a perfect metaphor, you know? God and devil in the details together! Mutually cohabitating! It's like representing the spy for Avenging going into the Hydrating instead!"
I tilt my head. "Did that actually make any sense in your brain or are you just saying random words?"
"Made perfect sense to me," Luis replies. "Try to keep up. I'm literate and shit."
I like he means literary.
Peter starts to laugh, but then he catches himself. He rolls his window back up, and silence falls in the van. He starts practicing angry facial expressions in the tinted reflection. When they look insincere, he sighs tiredly.
My god. I really hope this kid does not die on his first day.
...
Blackmail - Wade Wilson
...
I watch the slow, spiraling decline of my patience and internal goodness over a three week period. Like slow-motion dashcam footage of car crashes in Russia that are oddly popular on YouTube.
Let me summarize for you bitches.
Three weeks ago, James Buchanan Barnes was discovered buried in the wreckage of Captain America's previous tomb. Lo and behold, when the corpse was unfrozen, he woke right up, according to the report.
After a brief stint in the hospital and then declared in perfect, young health, he requested to be put right back to work for the war - only to find out the war against Nazi Germany was over and he was just a couple of years too late.
Next best thing? Marches his white-ass over to Shield and gets recruited immediately. After that, he impresses his superiors with admirable intelligence somewhere between Neil Degrasse Tyson and my left testicle.
I imagine the conversation went something like this:
"You're too smart for Shield!"
"Yes, sir, I know!"
"You'll get more pussy if you join the Avengers!"
"Yes, sir, I know, sir!"
"Have a golden ticket inside this suspiciously large chocolate candy bar!"
"Thank you, sir!"
I didn't see the reunion between Rogers and Barnes, but it's not hard to imagine the conversation here, either.
"Bucky!"
"Steve!"
"Bucky!"
"STEVE!"
"I have a lot to catch you up on!"
"Yes, but first, what happened to the drinking fountains?!"
All right, so maybe the conversation did not immediately start with an explanation of the Civil Rights movement.
All I know is it took an obscenely short amount of time for Captain to call a meeting.
The meeting meant myself, Tony Stark, Le Capitan, and Buck Buck sat in a room and determined his place among the team.
Let's fast forward to the juicy part.
"So," Steve sits back in his chair after a long-winded speech about patriotism and probably his dead mom or something. I wasn't really listening.
"We've discussed this at length and would like to put the question to you. Are you interested in becoming a member of the Avengers?"
Barnes gives us one solitary nod. "Yes," he says. "If you'll have me."
"I'm a licensed minister," I exclaim.
Barnes looks a little confused, but doesn't ask what I mean.
"You'll be on a trial run," Tony twists his office chair from side to side. "We're not in the habit of just handing out positions on the team like candy…"
"But you have the golden ticket," I add.
"Understood," Barnes agrees with Tony, doesn't give me a second glance. Weird. Usually I get a lot of glances. Lustful ones.
"Getting shot down in World War Two and then iced for a few decades does not Avenger make," I snort. "Unless you're the Captain."
"Look," Steve says quickly. "We all trust you."
Tony makes an audible hmph sound.
"They trust you because I trust you," Steve continues, sending a frustrated look in Tony's direction. "I want you on this team. You were invaluable to the freedom of America then, and you're invaluable to the type of work we do here now."
"This whole dance team started simply because a man in an eye patch had a nice idea and a fancy folder," I say.
"The second-in-command of Shield, Nick Fury, established a crisis response team of superior individuals to prevent threats against Earth," Steve corrects. "or, if the threat is successfully carried out, eliminate whatever enemies made themselves known."
"That's the Avenging part," I say in a stage-whisper.
He doesn't even look at me.
I am flummoxed by him ignoring me. I am not used to being ignored.
I smell something fishy.
I pull a bag of swedish fish out of my pocket and begin munching the red, rubbery candy with a particularly obnoxious sound of crinkling plastic.
"You have reservations," Barnes looks at Tony. "Do you have something you want to ask me?"
Tony's expression seems to say he isn't sure yet if Barnes is worth the time it takes to ask exactly what he wants to.
"Sure, I'll say something," he says. "It's nothing personal. Honestly, I like you, as a rule. You're veteran, a hero, and a friend of a friend. It will have to be good enough for me."
"Have to be?" Barnes pushes.
"We voted," Tony replies. "I was outvoted."
Barnes does not ask him why he voted against bringing him on the team. He simply nods, understanding. "I see."
There's a small, awkward silence.
"So," I spin my chair in a circle. "Anyone else hungry?"
"I would like your trial to begin now," Steve says. "If everyone is onboard with that."
Tony barely nods.
I spin my chair again. "Why the fuck not?" I exclaim.
"Welcome to the Avengers," Steve smiles at his old friend.
Get a room, you guys.
"Whoop-di-fucking doo!" I say, spinning my chair the opposite direction.
"We are under UN jurisdiction," Tony stands. "You'll be expected to sign the Accords due to your little POW stint."
Barnes winces, but nods with agreement. "Director Pierce caught me up. Already signed. They told me I was category three enhanced strength, whatever that means. And they have the right to reserve my so-called powers for missions, or I can quit and sign a document that promises I won't use my strength for anything except… having an easier time changing a flat tire, I guess."
"We do not work independently any longer," Steve says.
"The Avengers were privatised before," Barnes asks. "So I was told."
"Yes," Steve begins, "Tony and Fury built the team themselves, but after Ultron, the UN determined to…"
Tony makes a very loud sighing sound. "I'd love to hang out for the history lesson, but I got some work to do. Numbers to crunch, labs to clean."
"Seriously," I exclaim. "Nobody wants to order a pizza?"
"Maybe later," Steve says dismissively, voice rising over the sound of the door shutting on Tony's quickly exiting figure. "He'll come around, Buck."
"Do you remember when Hydra captured me? When I fell from the train?" Barnes says.
"Yes," Steve says. Not a memory he likes to recall, it seems.
"I don't remember, I wasn't there, tell me, instead," I say, folding my hands excitedly.
"When I escaped, and told you they'd given me the serum… tortured me, tried to make me one of theirs..." Barnes shrugs. "It was rough, those first few days. You weren't sure if you could trust me."
Steve smiles at him. "No matter what Hydra did to you - making you enhanced - it didn't change who you were. I knew you were still my friend."
"So we went both went down in the plane together and got iced in some sort of serum-induced paralysis," Barnes adds. "How's that for strengthening a friendship?"
"Am I FUCKING Susan Storm?" I exclaim.
"Are you?" Steve looks at me suddenly. "Who's Susan?"
"No - AM I - nevermind. Invisibility joke. You'd think you'd see right through it."
No answer.
"The turmoil you're putting me through right now!" I moan.
"Look, Wade, I'm sorry, we just have - a lot of catching up to do," Steve says.
Barnes gives him a warm smile. "I want to hear about everything I've missed."
I've never seen so much bullshit contained in one look before.
"Hold the elevator!" I bark loudly, making a speedy dash for the very normal door, slipping out and jogging awkwardly after Tony. It takes me a few turns down the slick, polished halls before catching a glimpse of his assured, hurried figure.
"Yo! Slow that fine ass down a second!" I call out.
"What do you want?" Tony turns around slowly. "Not in the mood for Cap-Recap either?"
"Cap-Recap," I repeat. "That's fucking adorable. Listen, I'm all about second chances, born again opportunities, boys becoming men, Boyz II Men, that sort of thing."
Tony is used to this. He merely waits.
"I have to say I'm with you on this one," I say. "The mayors of Ice Town are basing this recruitment entirely on previous circumstances that no longer exist."
"Then why the hell did you vote yes?" Tony exclaims.
"What, and look like a douchebag? No thanks."
"You're already a douchebag."
"Yes, this, I am aware of," I make a wiping motion with my hands. "Clean slate. New me. Feng shui."
"You've tried that move before, Deadpool."
"How did you know the title of my recently released sex-tape?"
"I don't have time for this." He turns back down the hall.
"Okay, okay, okay! Wait UP, Papa Bear!" I say, stopping him. "I just wanted to say I'll keep an eye on him. That's all. Barton isn't the only one who has a full house on strangely keen eyesight."
"And what do you expect to see?"
"Well, hopefully none of you naked, for one," I respond. "But the guy was trying way too fucking hard to not react to me. I've never seen someone keep so damn still unless they're in the window of a fucking Forever 21 window display. Which, in case you didn't realize, is a mannequin joke."
Nothing.
"You'd think a joke about dummies would be right up your alley."
"Jesus, Wade. Try to have a normal conversation for once in your oddly prolonged life."
"I love it when you talk like this," I act demure. "Go on."
"Based on the fact he does not rise to your verbal chum, you don't trust him?"
"No, it's because he wouldn't make fucking eye contact," I say with exasperation. "You and I are probably the only two that have dealt with as much white-collar double crossing bullshit as we have. Steve Rogers looks for swastikas and tentacles to find his bad guys. We notice other details. Like when a guy gets his balls in a twist and has to count to ten in order to not strangle me across a conference room table."
"To be fair, I've wanted to strangle you multiple times."
"Yeah! And you fucking say something while actually fucking looking at me."
"So we agree, we just don't trust him."
"I agree that I trust one person, and that is myself - no, two people. Myself and Blind Al. And I am trusting when my gut says bad news. It's good to trust your body, too. Whether you feel instinct tripping you up or a surprise erection, you just - gotta go with it."
"I really did not want that visual."
"I like my work here," I exclaim. "And I like these people. I won't let anyone else fuck that up. Not for a moment."
Tony is surprised by the sincerity. "Okay," he says simply. "Do whatever you want. Leave me out of it. I'll be playing with science and keeping my team in line and keeping my nose out of Roger's business."
"And I will keep my nose up both of their business ends," I reply.
He shakes his head, disgusted, and gracefully flees the conversation.
I immediately pull out my cell phone. I imagine that when I call this number, on the other end, Friendship Never Ends by the Spice Girls starts playing. But knowing who this is, of course, I'm sure she doesn't use personalized ringtones.
"Yes?" answers the suave, intoxicating rasp of Natasha Romanoff.
"Do you remember that one time I totally found out about the intermingling nakedness of yourself and a certain green-raged-golem?"
"You mean Bruce and I having sex? Yes, I do." Her tone is instantly tired of me.
"You know that whole lab-after-hours kink is not one I would have pinned you for, but now that I've seen it first-hand, I get it. It's just really unfortunate I had left my tablet behind that night. Did I ever tell you why I came back for it? No? Well, it's the only device I have that has Netflix. Ness and I are really into musicals right now. So you and Bruce, like, sterilized that table when you were done, right? Because like - I mean, I'm happy to bring some lysol with me next time."
"Tell me what you want, Wade, or I am hanging up."
"When I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," I remind her, "You said you owe me big time."
"So, I owe you."
"I'm calling in the favor."
"Already?"
I glance at my watch. "So I waited less than twenty four hours."
Yeah, I found out last night.
"Don't you want to save the favor for something more exciting? Like an insurance?"
"I saved fifteen percent by switching to Geico," I answer, "So, no, I'm good, I need the favor now."
I hear her leave a room, the sound in the background changing from the murmur of public space to an enclosed, echoing chamber, like a stairwell. "What's the favor?" she asks.
"I need you to Trojan horse some shit. And, please," I add, "Don't make a condom joke, it's really unprofessional of you and I'm not in the mood. I need the best of spy work that only you can deliver."
"Oh, sure," she says, playing along. "And I'm first choice."
"Well, Tom Cruise first, you second. Couldn't get Tom. He is too expensive for this franchise, if you can believe that, considering the roster. Aside from my personal preferences. Here's your mission - should you choose to accept it. I need you to woo the new guy."
"What new guy?" She laughs lightly, doubtfully. She thinks I'm joking.
"James Barnes."
Her laughter instantly stops. "Why?"
"You know exactly why," I add. "Just inserting himself into the group like a well lubed…"
"Don't finish that sentence," she says.
"It was going to be impressive."
"You rarely impress me," she sighs. "But I'm listening."
"It took him less than three weeks to march through the front doors, gain level ten security clearance and now sits on all the meetings of Cap and Toon-Town. He has access to everything. Even brought up a brief stint as a POW when Hydra made him enhanced. Like, what the fuck is that about? He just straight up tells us Hydra has been inside his head and Captain is like well thank Odin you're here now? He just screams MOLE to me. It's super awkward. In the men's restroom, hallway, conference room, the labs… just MOLE, MOLE, MOLE, all day long. It's like having a goddamn muppet over my shoulder."
"What if I say no?"
"Then - then," I splutter. "I… I QUESTION your commitment to SPARKLE MOTION!"
I hear Natasha say something away from the mic.
"Who is thaaaat..." I ask sweetly. "Is that your lover of the nighttime?"
"Only one of them, apparently," Natasha replies, her voice becoming smooth - romantic. A player through and through. The best that there is.
"There's my lil' Black Widow," I say delightedly.
"You'll leave me alone with this is done," she says.
"Deal!"
"So what's your play?"
"No, the question is, sweet spider-woman," I answer, "Is how do YOU like to play?"
"Dating," she sighs. "I'll get into his head with a workplace romance, nothing further than that. He'll have to… uh… confide in me organically. I won't kill him, and I won't sleep with him. Got it?"
"Or you could sleep with him and then kill him and really live up to your name."
"I'm hanging up on you."
...
Stake Out - Sam Wilson
...
I don't know how I got paired with these two yahoos on a stake out.
Brock Rumlow is a bit of a hardass who forgets to emote, even when talking to civilians. When a warm word can go a long way. And he's not even an Avenger, he's with Shield.
Rumlow had asked to join the Avengers and was turned down, but Shield loans him out to us so often that he might as well be our mascot.
He knows I don't like him.
Then there's Barnes. Barnes is the newbie who stepped into the role of the Captain's Best Friend all too easily. A title I thought I was allowed to share.
Guess not.
The man is a punk.
Let's just say, I have enough sparkling personality for handling interactions on their behalf if necessary. But not enough to make sitting in a car with them for three hours bearable.
"Can you move your seat up?" Barnes asks.
"No," I say shortly.
In a moment, I hear the leather seats squeak when Barnes slowly move over an inch or two. Rumlow looks into the rear-view mirror, and then back at the emptied warehouse.
"What are you thinking about, new guy?" he asks. Like he isn't already the ongoing new guy, welcoming the other new guy as if he's a more special new-guy.
Barnes does not even grant him a reply.
I may not like him, but I have to admit, the man has some god-given sass just by absence of giving in to Rumlow being a pest. I appreciate that.
"Forget it," sighs Rumlow.
After a beat, Barnes irks out a reply like it was a great struggle to think about how to relate to other people. "That card game last night?"
"What about it?" I ask. I won that game.
It got weird when Captain and Stark spouted off a couple of in-jokes. Rumlow was annoyed and got bitchy, Barnes looked like a lost puppy that somebody kicked too hard.
It wasn't even that fun of a game, and I was the damn winner. I think the whole reason Cap asked us all to chill out and play a few rounds of poker in the rec room was to see how we bonded, if we'd work together well.
We didn't. But obviously he saw something we couldn't, because the next morning, we got stake-out duty.
"Good game," Barnes answers.
Silence.
"Took you long enough to say so, Kenny," I say.
I'm running out of resurrection and snow jokes. Collectively between Tony Stark and I, we've called him Grumpy Jesus, Ice-Buck, King Elsa, Lazarus's no-good cousin, Bucky Potter, The Red Shirt Who Lived, Buck Frost...
Another silence. God, this man wasn't found in a glacier, he is the damn glacier.
"Wade fucking cheats," Rumlow says.
"He didn't cheat," Barnes says quietly. "Barton did."
"Hawkeye?" I exclaim. "No shit? The straight and narrow brother from another mother's nest? That Hawkeye?"
"Fuck Hawkeye," Rumlow says.
"Maybe Barton should take up illusions with Doc Magic," I say. "Still didn't do him any good, not after my can of ass-whoopin."
"He didn't cheat because he wanted to win," Barnes says. "He cheated because he wanted to fold." He looks out the side window again. "Guess he had somewhere better to be."
It's the most words I've heard him say since he started, and I decide to give him a break from my usual torment. "Wife and kiddos waiting at home a few hours south," I explain.
"He must miss his wife," Barnes says, more to himself.
"Y'know if we can get this shit finished," Rumlow interjects, "It means I get laid tonight."
"That so," I respond dryly. None of us participate in what most would call locker room talk. That's what white assholes like Rumlow bring to the table.
Put Cap, Stark, myself, Lang, Banner, Rhodes, Barton, Vision - even Barnes - put any of us - in any combination - in any secluded area, and none of us stoop so low.
Reason number thirty two we don't like having him around.
"That is so," Rumlow responds. "She says I've been working too many late nights. She's too tired when I get back."
"Pity," Barnes mutters.
"She said to me," Rumlow continues, "Babe, if you can get off work before midnight, we'll make it happen."
"That's great," I deadpan. "Your mother sounds like a wonderful woman."
Barnes snorts loudly.
"Fuck you," Rumlow exclaims.
"I'll get in line," I growl, pinning a finger to my ear piece. "Sky-Eyes? We got movement."
"You got three coming in from the south," Rhodes replies on air. "It's Whitehall's personal assistant and two Hydra guards. She has the briefcase."
"It's go time, people!" I say, my eyes tracking the movement of three small persons a great distance away, walking like they got something to hide. They step into the large opening of the warehouse.
We jump out of the vehicle. I jerk my elbows back to activate the wings, unfolding from my back as the repulsors ignite. In seconds I'm flying across the pavement, wind plummeting against my red-tint goggles and fluttering the individual scaled metal folds of my wings.
When the shadow of the warehouse door passes over my head, I'm greeted with a volley of bullets, and pull up to avoid them. The flash-bang eruptions overshoot, pinging the warehouse walls when I twist in midair, tucking in my arms so my wings mimic the movements.
In a diving roll, I launch myself feet first into the chest of the first Hydra gunman. He's knocked flat out, slamming his head on the concrete.
When I turn to take out the second, I find his gun trained dead center for my skull.
Suddenly, Barnes skids up behind him, grasping the man's neck in one hand, the other reaching forward and twisting the gun out of his hands in a move so fast that I blink and it's already over.
With a single heave, Barnes throws the man across the entire warehouse, where his body slams against a stack of oil drums, crumpling to the ground.
"Thanks, man," I say slowly.
"Anytime," Barnes shrugs it off. We both look at the girl.
The assistant stands trembling, knees wobbling under her pencil skirt, perfectly raspberry lipsticked mouth puckering with fear.
"Here, here," she says quickly thrusting the briefcase in my direction. "I didn't want it. I didn't want this. I'm a temp. I'm just a temp. This is my first day."
I take the briefcase.
"You're still in a whole hell of a
trouble," Barnes says, his tone completely non threatening. "We'll have to take you back for questions, you understand?"
Well, he's definitely better at this than Rumlow.
"Shoulda called in sick today," I say to her. "Sorry kid. Off to Shield headquarters we go." I call Rhodes again. "Clean up on aisle nine."
"Both agents subdued?"
"Well, they are unconscious,"
Barnes says cheekily.
Oh, good, frozen boy is melting a little.
Rumlow comes jogging up to the warehouse door. I forget how far away we were - how quickly the fight ended. I was going at sixty miles an hour. Barnes has some sort of super-human disease from a brief stint as a POW during World War II.
Rumlow's completely non-enhanced.
"Shit, I missed the fun," he exclaims.
"Not entirely," I say. "Looky, we got something for Shield." I thrust the briefcase into his hands. Then I take th elbow and gently start pushing her back into the sunlight. "Tell your bosses you had fun playing with the Avengers."
"Which part?" Rumlow growls, following us out. Barnes brings up the rear. "The boring stake out? Or the card game? Both sucked ass, by the way."
"So tell Pierce that you don't enjoy sucking ass," I reply. "Let's go."
I hear the sound of the briefcase unclipping.
"It's empty," Rumlow announces.
"Shit," I mutter.
This simple grab-and-bag mission just got way more complicated. I thought it would be yet another petty Hydra robbery gone wrong where we swoop in and save the day, and their cohorts run like mad while the Beverly Hillbillies theme song plays in my head.
But with hardware like this missing… and Hydra being self-aware enough to plant a decoy transfer…
This won't be simple, not by a long shot. I sense it will be a long, long time before we're putting this mission to bed.
...
Homecoming - Peter Parker
...
I knock on the apartment door. No answer.
"Aunt May?" I call out. "Aunt May… it's Peter."
The door opens so quickly it crashes on the wall beside it, then slowly swings back towards my aunt. She stops it with a flat hand.
"Peter?" Aunt May looks completely blank of emotion, only pure shock.
"Hi, May," I say. Feeling sheepish, lower than low.
I haven't spoken to her since the day I left to interview at the Avengers tower. Called her right before I gave up my phone for good. Told her that she wasn't going to hear about me for awhile, but that she would probably see something on the news, but not to worry. That I would be just fine. I couldn't tell her why - but I assured her everything would be okay.
It was torture to end the conversation that way. Especially because she didn't believe me.
"Peter," Aunt May says, her voice crumbling with both utter joy and horror. She reaches forward and clutches at me, pulling me into her arms and holding me as tight as she can. She cries, audibly, with a smile of relief. "Oh sweetheart. God, I'm so… I'm so…"
"It's good to see you," I whisper into her shoulder.
"It's so good to see YOU!" she repeats, her back suddenly straightening as she sees Scott and Luis standing at attention behind me. She jumps back and pushes me aside. "What the hell are you guys doing here?"
"Ouch," Scott responds.
"That's really cold," Luis cringes. "Like a, cold cold welcome."
"Sorry, I thought I made it perfectly clear that I wanted nothing to do with the Avengers, Shield, any of it," she snarls. "You framed my kid and took him from me. The best thing you can do is leave."
"Shh," I say quickly, "Aunt May - come on. They're with me. It's okay. Can we come in?"
Aunt May softens, putting a warm hand to my cheek and brushing away a runaway tear. Her eyes look desperate. "Okay," she says, standing aside to let me walk in. She gives Scott and Luis and appraising look. "Come in, if you want."
They dutifully skirt past her and stand uncomfortably in the living room. She shuts the door, deadbolts it, and security-locks it. She gestures to the kitchen table. "Everyone, please, sit down. I just make a pot of mac and cheese."
"We won't bother you for..." I say uneasily.
Aunt May places both hands on my shoulders again, this time, giving me a little shake. "You are talking like you're a stranger," she says. "Stop - just stop. Right now. Okay? I'm going to feed you. You look like you haven't eaten since you left." She glances at the stove. "I made three boxes, figuring I'd freeze the rest."
"If it's not too much trouble," Scott shrugs. "I could go for some mac and cheese."
"Then sit down!" Aunt May snaps.
Scott and Luis drop into the chairs so quickly it rattles the cups on the counter.
"Give us a minute," Aunt May pulls me towards the hall. We step behind the middle wall, hiding us from Scott and Luis's view.
"Are you - are you being blackmailed?" she hisses. "Just - tell me if you're in danger. We'll go through the window right now. We'll leave. They'll never find us again, we can go to Italy, there's like a step-great-grandmother, like, once removed, that has a cellar with indoor plumbing…"
"May, May," I catch her hands in my own. "Stop. It's okay. Everything's fine."
I open my mouth to continue, and then stop, uncertain. I glance around the apartment.
"I don't have any bugs," Aunt May adds. "Captain Spangles and the NYPD checked this place from top to bottom. Had a warrant and everything. Swarmed the place after your arrest. Wouldn't tell me anything about what happened." She looks away. "I threw a mug at Captain America. It shattered on his head and he hardly blinked. He asked me if I knew where you came by your rage issues. I told him he could go fuck himself."
I blink in shock. "You broke a - you broke a - cup on Captain America's head?" I exclaim. "That's - Aunt May - that's amazing, you're - I mean you're seriously…"
"We're in the clear," Aunt May cuts me off. "Please, just, tell me what happened."
I let out a breath of relief. "I got the job," I whisper. "I'm going undercover for the Avengers."
She sucks in a breath. "I knew it - I fu - I knew it. I knew it had to be something. Everything was a set up."
"The interview was the only real part. The charges, the circumstances, all of it, it's my cover. Scott and Luis are going to get me connected with illegal suppliers working in New York to work my way up to…" I pause, and bite my lip. "Aunt May, telling you all this… it will put you in danger. I shouldn't be telling you this. It's wrong. I shouldn't be burdening you with this."
She blinks rapidly.
"I guess there was a selfish part of me that could not stand the thought of you thinking anything they said about me was true," I admit. "It's all part of my cover. I didn't want you to hate me."
"I would never hate you, not for a million years," she wraps her arms around my neck, kissing the side of my head multiple times. "I never doubted you for a second. Do you understand me? Never doubted you, not once. You said everything was fine, but then I thought the Avengers were framing you, trying to cover up something of their own."
I relax in her arms, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Silence falls.
"It's so good to be home," I whisper. "But I can't stay."
"Did those two goons tell you that Captain America is forcing me to move to a secure location upstate?" she asks, pulling back. "He said it was to protect me from you. I thought…" she tears up again. "I thought that meant I'd never see you again."
"It's to protect you from the people I will start working for, from Hydra, too," I explain. "Do everything Cap says. He'll protect you. I swear. Someday I'll be able to come visit. It…" I pause. "There is no expiration date on this job, but it may be a couple of years."
"A couple of years?" she gasps in horror. "I'm sorry, did you say YEARS?"
"I have to work my way up. Then…"
"Then you come home," Aunt May says fiercely, jabbing my shoulder. "You come home to me. Wherever that is. Promise me."
"I promise."
I hear a very loud AHEM from the kitchen. Scott and Luis look bored, impatient, and worried, when Aunt May and I heave a sigh in unison and look around the corner together.
"They said they needed a minute," Luis is whispering urgently. "It's been like, half a minute."
Aunt May leads me back to the kitchen and pushes me into the chair across from Scott.
"So," she says dryly, "Before you three go skipping off to your life of crime and I go into witness protection, let's have a nice meal." She glances over the stove, eyes widening, and then she turns down the heat. "The noodles are a little overcooked, but not too bad," she mumbles. Then she turns and looks at the table. "Who wants hot dog in theirs?"
Scott and Luis both raise their hands.
I snicker.
Aunt May gives me a look of delight, pleased to hear me laugh at all. "Two dogs it is, then," she smiles to herself, turning back to the fridge.
I glance at the clock, and back at Scott and Luis.
Tick, tock.
"So, he's Ant-Man," Luis erupts, pointing at Scott.
"Dude!" Scott exclaims, holding out his hands in a what the hell motion.
"Really?" I squeak. "I had - I had no idea. So you're Avengers too. Not just weird guys with a van for hire."
"Naw, that's me," Luis says, "Weird guy with a van for hire. He's the Avenger."
"Took awhile to get there though, like you," Scott says kindly. I realize he's trying to help me feel calm, give me some encouragement. "My first job was literally a heist. I pissed off Falcon like you wouldn't believe."
"Stealing definitely not sanctioned by the Avengers," I smile. "That's ah… that's pretty dangerous."
"Tell him about the thing you did with the suit," Luis prompts.
"I try to humble brag only three times a day," Scott shrugs.
"Okay, I'll tell it," Luis brightens up. "So like - it all started with this hot chick, who is like, dude, I hate you, I want you, but we gotta work together for the greater good, and Scott's like, I'mma tap that but first we save the world…"
I grip my hands under the table, trying to quell the anticipatory panic in the pit of my stomach. I try to focus on everything - anything. Luis's story, the smell of the powdered cheese, the rough wood grain of the dining table.
Aunt May and I listen to Luis, laughing at all the right parts, Scott chiming in to correct Luis on his creative licenses.
This is the last moment of normalcy I will likely have in a very long time, I think.
Dinner with Aunt May's reputably questionable cooking. Hanging out with guys that work for Captain America. Before I become the guy fighting them.
When it is time to go, I know Ant-Man and Luis will wait outside, patiently, letting me say goodbye to Aunt May. She will hold me close and ask me to not go, change my mind, change everything. I'll be tempted to say yes. Let's go to that cellar in Italy with the indoor plumbing.
But then my obsessive personality will take over - no, I want to do this, it's for the greater good, Captain America needs me - asked me, interviewed me, chose me personally for this mission - the world will one day thank me for it. I'll be an Avenger. A childhood dream will be realized with a whole hell of a lot more work beforehand than I anticipated.
Aunt May will admire my bravery, kiss away the tears, remind me of my promise, and it will take all of heaven and hell to get me to leave her embrace.
When I walk down the hall, I will be unable to turn back. I shouldn't - it will erase my resolve. But I will catch a glimpse of her, waiting, by the open door, watching me get into the elevator. Her expression will shatter me. How selfish am I to leave her like this, when I am all she has? After Uncle Ben's death, that was it. She needs me. How could I do this to her just for the sake of slapping a giant A on my future uniforms, getting a clearance level in Shield, standing side by side with Captain America and Mr. Stark someday as a hero?
Will it be worth it?
Or will I lose?
...
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