A/N: Hi guys! So, this is the new chapter that I rushed through without really editting at all so have fun with all my mistakes. Just so you know, I changed the backstory of a lot of the characters to fit with everything I want to happen. If it doesn't make sense, sorry.

Ragnarok

Chapter 6: Cops and Robbers and Superheroes

"Steve, wait! Don't go!" Kathy ran out of the back room of the office after the super soldier turned waiter. The captain's back was stiff and ridged as he turned to face her. His expression was grim.

"Why not? That's exactly what you want, isn't it? For me to leave?" Steve's voice was dead and every word cut into Kathy like a knife.

"I want you to go back. But that's not what you're doing! You're running away again!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Go back and tell Stark that it's my fault that…" Steve's voice broke, his posture faltered as water filled his eyes. He turned away, shoulders squared. "I can't do that, Kathy. I just can't."

"Steve." Kathy tried her best to make her voice understanding as she laid a comforting hand on his arm. "You'll have to go back eventually. They need you. In case you haven't noticed, tactics isn't exactly their strong suit. Stark's likely to fly in with a half-assed plan and get himself killed." Steve gave a light chuckle, knowing how true that was. Like father like son, he thought. "Besides, he probably already knows." Steve went ridged again, turning white-faced to Kathy. "Steve, these are the Stark's we're talking about. They know everything about everyone." The captain gave a reluctant sigh.

"You're right. Of course you are. But that doesn't make it any easier. Every time I look at him all I can think about is how it's my fault. It's all my fault…"

"No it isn't!" Kathy exploded. "The report said technical error, that's what you told me."

"But he was there because of me!"

"And you were there because of him! So whose fault is it?" Steve's eyes dropped to the floor, his bag hanging loosely from his fingers. Kathy reached out and took it from him. "You can't keep running from this. You have a responsibility."

"To who?" he scoffed.

"To Tony."

~AVENGERS~

Peter was already swinging through the streets on his way to the robbery when the cops finally picked up their game and got new of stick up. His side throbbed every time he threw himself from one building to the next but he didn't have time to complain. It was only a small job; a couple of armed thugs in a jewellery store. I've handled bigger, he thought. An image of the Lizard sprang unbidden to his mind. The scars across his torso tingled. Much bigger.

Peter dropped to the sidewalk outside the jewellers and, in one fluid motion, threw himself through the front window, rolling and coming to a stop in his signature crouch.

"Hi boys," he mocked. "Little early for Christmas shopping, isn't it?" In seconds Spiderman had the scene surveyed; two men with semi-automatics cleaning out the cases and a third with a handgun keeping the three hostages and the shopkeeper on the ground.

Thing 1 yelled, "Aw, shit man! It's Spiderman!"

Peter clapped a hand over his mask-clad lips. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Thing 2 raised his gun to fire. "Ah, ah, ah," Peter tutted, flicking his wrist. His web wrapped around the barrel of the semi-automatic, ripping it from the robber's hand. "You shouldn't play with guns, you know." Peter jumped from his spot and summersaulted in the air to land perfectly on the handgun wielding thief. The man lost his balance and tumbled forward. The gun went off as he hit the ground, shattering one of the cases by the other robbers, startling Thing 1 into dropping his gun. Peter jumped up from the fallen robber, hurriedly webbing his hands and feet to the floor. He whipped back around to the other two.

Peter's eyes widened invisibly under his mask. Thing 2 held the shopkeeper by the throat, a piece of jagged glass from the display case held against his jugular. The jeweller wept in terror and the robber, his eyes visible through the ski mask he wore, looked a strange mixture of crazed, terrified and determined.

"Come any closer and I'll slit his throat!"

Peter held his hands up in acquiescence. "Why don't you just put the guy down. He's got nothing to do with this."

"He's got everything to do with this!" The robber backed up a few feet toward the rear door. "He's my ticket out of here."

"Jack, what about me?!" Thing 1 was still back against the other wall, hands up, eyes frightened.

"Shut up, Redd!" Jack backed up further.

"Now, why don't we all just calm down and-" Peter snapped his wrist forward, web shooting out. Before Jack could react, the hand holding the knife was webbed to the wall by his head. He dropped the shopkeeper in surprise. Peter flicked his wrist a half-dozen times more and Jack couldn't move even if he wanted to. The thief was shouting profanities at him as he turned around-

-to see Redd holding his retrieved gun and running for the door. Peter was about to sprint after him when the whoosh of an arrow out the door halted him. Peter sighed when he heard the projectile explode and the cry of the escaping robber. He stuck his head through the shattered window to see Redd trapped under a net that was pegged to the ground. Behind him he heard the light touch of a skilled assassin landing on the pavement followed by the not-so-light clunk of gold-titanium alloy boots.

"What are you doing here?" Peter spat as he walked back inside to help the newly released hostages to their feet. One of them ran from him but the other two thanked him and shook his hand before running outside to the arriving police.

Peter snapped ramrod straight. Damn it! Police! He had to get away. They would arrest him. Peter started toward the back door Jack was heading to before.

"Relax, Spidey. Romanov's outside making sure they don't come in till we're done talking," Stark smirked. Peter scowled under his mask. He wished Stark would just leave him alone.

"Look, kid. You don't have to run from us." Peter scoffed at Hawkeyes reassurances. "You don't even have to join the Avengers." Peter noticed the look Stark shot Barton. Clearly there's a disagreement on that front. "All we want is to make sure you don't get yourself or other people hurt."

"You mean you wanna stick a collar around my neck and keep me from doing my job!"

"No way, bug boy." Peter's eyes narrowed. "We just want to make sure there aren't any more incidents like Oscorp Tower."

"And how do you propose you do that?" Peter asked through gritted teeth. Whatever these guys were selling, he wasn't buying it. Barton shifted and tightened his grip on his bow. He knew Peter wasn't liking this conversation.

"We wanna train you, help you. You know, we scratch your back, you scratch ours sort of deal," Stark proposed, gesturing vaguely with a red and gold clad hand.

"Listen here, bucket head," Peter spat, jabbing a finger at Iron Man. Stark stepped back in surprise. "I'm the only one who's helping the people in this town, this city, and I'm not abandoning them just because the big six are afraid they can't control some kid in a mask. So, stay away from me and let me do my job!" Peter jumped to the roof, putting his fist through the skylight.

"You don't understand!" Barton shouted.

Peter looked back down at the assassin. His face was filed with concern. And anger. "Oh, I understand perfectly." Spiderman scuttled out the shattered skylight, leaving the Avengers to deal with the criminals.

~AVENGERS~

Back at Stark Tower, Tony was walking the length of the conference table over and over while the other members sat and watched. Again. By now the Avengers were more than aware that Tony was a master brooder. He was always brooding about something; Cap being gone, not having found Spiderman, Pepper taking his suit away so he would sleep or eat, his general hatred of everything that didn't go his way. The list was ever growing.

But something the team wasn't used to was Clint being the same way. Usually he was making jabs at Stark's poor mood but today he sat and shared in the darkening atmosphere. Natasha could have sworn she would be able to stick a card between the wrinkles in his brow. Something was bothering the assassin more than his partner had ever seen. He hadn't been this closed off since they'd met some twenty-one years ago. Clint had only been young, maybe twelve when Fury brought him in. Natasha remembered she was in the firing range practicing with the glock 17 she'd been given for her birthday.

Fury led him into the room with a firm hand at his back and one look at the boy had told her everything she needed to know. He was small for his age and his clothes, dirty and ragged, swam on him. His tattered baseball shirt still had bloodstains on it. He stared ahead without seeing, his grey eyes glazed. Only one word came to mind when she thought of it now.

Dead.

They had been assigned as partners and Fury had brought him to train. Natasha had given him a fierce and sceptical look, told him she would start right away and herded him out of the room. The instant Fury left Clint's legs gave out. He collapsed to the floor and sobbed bitterly. He was inconsolable. Natasha looked at him. She saw the tears and the clothes and the thin arms and legs and suddenly she was overcome with pity because then she saw it. He was there because of the same reason she was; because they were broken.

She drew herself up next to him until she towered over the cowering figure. Her face hardened as she lifted her arm up above her head. It came down with a whack, almost knocking Clint over. He looked up at her through his teary eyes, a hand held to his reddening cheek. Natasha put her hands to her hips as she looked down at him and, in a voice ringing with metal, she said "Men don't cry." He stared at her for a moment, eyes flicking over her features. He must have found what he was looking for because his face closed, the sorrow left his eyes and the pain left his face. Then they started training.

They'd been together ever since then. It had taken a while for her to get him to open up again, he didn't say anything other and 'yes' and 'no' for almost five months since they brought him and it took him over four years to lean to smile again. But he'd been happy since then, he'd found purpose. It didn't make sense for him to be this way again. He was helping people. He'd told her that was his purpose.

She wondered again what had happened to make him turn back into this brooding, lost person that sat across from her. There was something there, something she was missing.

"Okay, so…" Stark's voice cut through her riviere and pulled the attention of everyone in the room. Save Barton. "He thinks we're not doing anything to help the city."

"Which is true," Bruce added from his position near the head of the table. "We mainly take on bigger issues. Peter's tackling robbers and thugs. He's made more arrests in the last month than NYPD has in the last year. Spiderman has taken 'stand up for the little man' to a whole new level."

"So, if we prove him wrong maybe he'll join us! Save a few kittens, fight a few fires. How hard could it be?"

"Parker's not an idiot, tin head." Natasha almost jumped out of her skin when Clint spoke. She'd started thinking of him as that quiet little boy again. "Don't you think he'll realise you're just trying to play him?"

"Clint's right, Stark," Natasha nodded. "Got any other ideas?"

"What am I, a tactician?" Poor choice of words. The conference room fell into heavy silence, all eyes at the empty chair next to Bruce. They really needed their captain back.

"Sir," Jarvis' voice called through the intercom, breaking the silent sorrow of the room's inhabitants. "There is an urgent matter that requires your attention."

"Not now, Jarvis." Stark squeezed the bridge of his nose and waved away the invisible assistant.

"Sir, I don't believe this matter should be ignored," he persisted.

Stark threw his head back and let out a world-weary sigh. "What?"

In front of the conference table a screen appeared and on its face was a tornado pulling down toward the ground, lightning flashing around its edges and getting lower and lower to the ground.

"The Bifrost is open, sir."

~AVENGERS~

New York stretched down below over hundreds of square miles, millions of people ambling about along their roads doing nothing with their lives. Buildings lay in ruins, homeless walked the street, purse snatchers and muggers corner women in dark alleyways, Godzilla attacks a science company, aliens fall out of the sky…

"Ah, home sweet home," Wade smiled from his position on the roof of an apartment building. It'd been a long time since he'd been back in New York, almost 3 months. Wow, it seemed so much longer. He'd missed the smell of the sewerage and the exhaust fumes and the greasy street stand food.

Yeesh, this place is a dump…

"Aw, don't say that. Can't you just feel the homecoming party!"

No, I think that's the dog on your ankle.

Wade looked down at the little runt. He pulled himself to his feet, the pit bull still growling and biting into his skin. He turned his back to the edge and bent down, reaching between his legs and grabbing the dog around the middle. "321! 321! Hut! Hut! Hike!" He threw the dog backward over the edge of the building, its teeth ripping out a portion of his ankle along the way. He heard a scream when the dog crashed into a lady reading some crappy romance on the bench below. Wade flinched. "Oooh, that's gunna leave a mark."

Why are we here, anyway?

"'Cause I wanted to see how the old hunting grounds were doing."

Hunting grounds? The only thing you used to hunt was Petey's homework, you idiot.

"Oh, Peter! I missed Peter. Let's go see Peter!"

He won't even recognise you, moron! Do I have to do all the thinking around here?

"Well, you are my brain."

Fair call. But what makes you think he's even gunna talk to you? You're Deadpool now, not Wade Wilson.

"But Petey always had a habit of getting into trouble. I just wanna check up on him! Come on, please? I'll buy us candy!

Yes! Wait, no. I don't even like candy!

"Aww, but-!" Wade's sentence was cut off by the clap of thunder. He turned to side, looking out at the vortex of clouds lowering itself to the earth, swirling up the falling snow. Wade stared at it until it clicked in his mind. It was coming down next to Midtown Science. "Peter…"

For once the two half's of Wade's personality agreed on something.

"We're going."

A/N: Thanks for reading guys and please tell me where all the mistakes are so I can fix them and not feel like an idiot. Thanks again guys. I'll try and update again soon.