A/N: Hi guys. Sorry about the upload speed at the moment, motivation is majorly lacking and also I just started year 12. How fan-fucking-tastic... The good part of this is though that inspiration did eventually strike so this chapter is a bit longer than normal so yay for that. Thank you if you're still reading after my shittiness and if you're new then hello!
Read on, friends!
Ragnarok
Chapter 11: Cat-astrophe
Well, this certainly got way more complicated…
"This is so not worth five million anymore."
Deadpool's money was skulking off behind the biggest block to his business since the arms boom after the Incident. Nobody wanted to hire a mercenary when they could get a gun and do it themselves for cheap. Of course, a few tactically placed bombs and some well forged emails brought business crashing right back.
The Avengers were his last barricade to a thriving bounty hunter career, always getting in the way, trying to slow him down with hacked off limbs or, on one memorable occasion, pieces better left unmentioned.
Well, it's not like you're using it…
"Don't tell the readers that! One of them might be interested…" Deadpool smirked, turning and looking up at you, somehow managing to wiggle his eyebrows through the mask.
Stop flirting with them; they're probably here for Peter, anyway.
Deadpool scratched his head confusedly. "Peter? What do you mean Peter?"
*Sigh* Never mind, you'll figure it out eventually. Just follow them.
"Aww, but I don't want my dick blown off again!"
Follow them, wait until Spiderman goes off on his own, sword to the neck and there's an easy five million.
Wade thought about it, pursing his lips in consideration. "Huh, wow. I guess there's a reason you were left in charge of my brain after all."
Why? Because I use more than 2% of my thinking power? Now shut up and go before you lose them.
"We know exactly where they're going, though."
Wade pointed out over the city, across rooftops and alleyways, to the most identifiable landmark in the ruins of New York. The enormous silver building with the glowing 'A' on its side. Avengers HQ, no matter what SHIELD would want you to believe.
~AVENGERS~
"So, Stark Tower, huh?" Peter asked, walking toward the big glass doors at its front. The building was, to say the least, a little intimidating. With its big chrome structures, enormous height and one way glass panels, Peter couldn't help feeling like if he walked through them, he wouldn't be allowed to leave again and he knew exactly what they said about closed doors.
"Yeah," Doctor Banner smiled. "SHIELD wasn't working for us." And Peter can tell that by 'us' he means 'him'. Everyone knew the Hulk's history; he was splashed all over the news when he was first changed and the old stories made a reappearance when he joined up with the Avengers. The only part of his story that remains a mystery to the general public is exactly how he got the way he was. All anyone ever says is that there was a lab accident.
"Have you ever been?" Stark asks from his side. Peter still isn't sure what to think of him; he asks the question neutrally but he's staring at him with the most calculating expression. Peter almost feels like Flash had made some stupid comment about his parents and was waiting for him to rise to the bait. Again.
"Once," he answered, standing up a little straighter. "I pretended to be an intern and snuck in." Peter decided that if Stark was challenging him, he wouldn't disappoint. Judging by the raised eyebrows, he was doing well. Peter shrugged. "It worked well enough for me at Oscorp." Stark looks like he wants to ask something about that but changes track.
"How far did you get?" he questions instead. He asks things like he does everything else that isn't to do with Iron Man: with a distinct disinterest; like he's heard it all before and nothing anyone ever says could surprise him.
Peter had to grit his teeth when he answered; "The 82nd floor." The brings Stark up short. Peter felt a small sense of smug pride at rendering the great Tony Stark wide-eyed and slightly slack-jawed.
"The 82nd floor? As in floor eight-two? Two floors above eighty?" he asked, rapid-fire. Peter had his full attention now and he had to try really hard not to smile or, god forbid, laugh. Stark looked manic when he was really interested in something. Peter just bit down on his cheek and nodded. "But floors 81 and up are-"
"-Avengers floors," Peter finishes. "Why do you think I snuck in? I had to scope out the competition." The smile he'd been valiantly fighting down was starting to break free; he could feel it twitching at the edges of his lips.
"Competi-!" Tony spluttered. "Oh, that's it, bug boy! The game is on! I'll bet you couldn't make it past the first three security doors to get to my lab!" Peter opened his mouth to ask the terms but Stark cut him off. "And another thing; Jarvis! Why didn't I hear about this heinous violation of security protocol?" He whipped a phone from the pocket of his jeans, glaring down at the blue-lit screen.
"My apologies, Sir. I was not aware there had been a breach," a voice answered from the tiny device. Peter cocked his head at it, scrutinising the scroll of data across the display.
"How could you be unaware? You control the entire Tower!" Tony was flailing his free arm around in a dramatic gesture that encompassed the entire building before them. Peter looked up at the structure again and it clicked.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, snatching the phone from Tony. "Is this the 'Just A Rather Very Intelligent System'?" Tony was staring at him again but Peter didn't notice; he was too engrossed in looking through the coding. "Wow, the compact version is elegant. The full one was so huge and jumbled… It took me ages to find the code I needed to erase the security data."
"You hacked Jarvis?" Stark asked. Peter flinched a little, slowly handing the phone back with a sheepish grin.
"Just a little?"
Tony kept staring at him. Peter was starting to sweat. Tony was probably angry. Peter had snuck into his tower, hacked into his systems and messed with his AI. Peter would be pissed if he was Tony and Tony had the power to make Peter's life a living hell. Peter should never have come here, never have agreed to be a part of this mission, never should have even talked-
Tony was laughing, why was he laughing?
"Oh, kid," he gaped, supporting himself on Peter' shoulder while he got his breath back. "You and I are going to be good friends. As soon as you show me how you got into Jarvis so I can path up that little security hole." He was smiling at Peter and, yeah, Peter didn't get this guy at all.
"Hey!" Clint yelled. They both turned to see the rest of the team standing around the doorway, watching them with small, tired smiles on their faces. "You nerds comin' or what?"
"I resent that. I'm a geek,' they both say and then glare at each other. The team are laughing. But then Peter had to go and open his mouth.
"Hey, where's Captain America?"
~AVENGERS~
Kathy rushed over to the oven when the timer went off, pulling the tray from the head and setting it on the cooling rack on the counter. She grabbed the next batch and pushed them in, closing the door and turning to observe her work. The chocolate soufflé was a rich brown on the surface, having risen evenly all around, not collapsed in the middle; pretty much perfect. She huffed at it. Pretty much wasn't good enough. She looked down the line at the cheesecake and the crème brulée and the puddings and slices and pies and cookies.
She wanted to be useful. Kathy wasn't used to just sitting around, doing nothing, hoping for the best. She much preferred to be there in the thick of it, doing anything she could think of to make it better, easier. Even on the streets when she was younger she could never leave well enough alone; she always had to get involved, trying to fix other people's problems.
She was a fighter, no matter what anyone said; if she wasn't she wouldn't be alive right now. So to be relegated to the sidelines…
But they were superheroes and they'd gone off to fight a god. She was nowhere near good enough to help them take that on, street brawls aside. She could hold her own but she wasn't defending New York anytime soon.
She needed to be helpful. She needed to be doing something to keep her from feeling like she was shirking her duties, something to stop her thinking about Steve up stairs, cold and getting colder, or whether the others would die.
She shook the thoughts from her head and poured her frustration into mixing the batter for the mousse. If all she could do was make sure that there was a meal on the table when everyone got home, then everything needed to be absolutely perfect.
Kathy poured the mixture into twelve small glass cups and piled them onto the top shelf in the fridge, the one that wasn't filled with vegetables she'd had Jarvis order and the slices she'd made that were setting.
"Wow, you've been busy." Kathy jumped a foot in the air when Tony's voice reached her. She snapped around to face him, slamming the fridge with a tad more force than necessary.
She looked him over for a moment. He seemed mostly fine though there was going to be a hell of a bruise around that eye in the morning and he really should clean out those cuts. Satisfied that he wasn't about to keel over, she marched across the room and swung a punch into his shoulder that made Tony wince and rub at the spot. She resolved to check what he was hiding under that shirt later.
"What took you so long?" she demanded. He gasped placing a hand to his wounded heart.
"I go through all this trouble to stop the giant snake attacking the city without making a single dick joke and this is how you thank me? I am offended, truly hurt, Katey." She huffed, shoving him gently and turning back to the kitchen. She had to clean up. There was stuff everywhere; she couldn't start another batch until it was clean.
"I know you're just doing it to piss me off now, so this is the last time I'm going to correct you; It's Kathy. Do I need to spell it out for you, genius boy?" Tony smirked and moved into the room.
"No, I think I got it, Cathy." She sighed, practically hearing the 'C' in the name.
"Did you get the bastard?" she asks, needing to hear the answer, to know that Steve was going to be fine. There was silence that was more telling than anything. Kathy nodded jerkily, picking a bowl up off the table and headed to the sink, her back to Tony.
"I'm sorry," Tony offered. He sounded it; his voice was ragged with exhaustion and disappointment. Kathy suddenly remembered that Steve was Tony's friend as well, that this must be eating him as much as it was her. More, even. Hell, he'd known him longer, fought with him. They were probably best friends. After being the only one that knew him for so long, it was jarring to realise that there were other people that cared about Steve.
She turned back to him, needing to see the expression there. Kathy needed to know he really, truly cared about what happened to him. She scanned him face. It wasn't exactly what she was looking for but it would do.
She gave Tony a small watery smile. "It's fine. We'll figure something else out, right?" Tony returned the smile with a determined nod and it was like they'd reached an agreement; they'd do anything to make Steve well again.
Kathy sniffed, coughed, straightened up. "Was there something you wanted, Tony?" He hummed an acknowledgment and strode over to the bench Kathy stood behind, dropping onto one of the barstools opposite her.
"I have five questions for you, Miss Tough-As-Nails-Foster-Kid-Who-Thinks-She's-Smarter-Than-Tony." Kathy smirked.
"You need to remove the 'thinks' from in there. Shoot."
"First question: what's with all the food?" he asks, sweeping his hand around to encompass the kitchen counters laden with all manner of desserts and dinners. Kathy shrugs, shifting some treats from the racks to a plate and placing them in front of Tony.
"I was making dinner." Tony quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at her, crunching down on one of the triple choc cookies. She sighed theatrically. "Okay, fine. I cook when I'm nervous and when the man who pays the bills goes out to fight the Basilisk while looking for a cure for my cursed friend, I don't think I can get more nervous."
"At least you get Harry Potter references," Tony mumbles, nodding his understanding. "Okay, question two: we have food? I didn't think any of the kitchens were stocked, we order in every night."
"Apparently Jarvis recognises that normal people need to eat so when I asked him where the kitchen was, he ordered a full pantry for me." She looked to the ceiling. "Thanks again for that, Jarvis."
"My pleasure, Miss Jackson." Kathy scowled.
"That's my foster name, Jarvis. Please don't use it again."
"And what is your real last name, if I may be so bold?"
"Don't know," she answered, lips pursed in thought. "I never really thought about it. Didn't really care. Just call me Kathy, or Miss Kathy if it makes you more comfortable."
"Of course, Miss. And may I congratulate you on your success in feeding one of the house's not-so-normal inhabitants." Kathy's brow furrowed and she turned to Tony. He was scowling down at the plate. The empty plate. Kathy burst out laughing, not even fazed when the scowl was turned on her.
"Anytime, Jarvis," She tried to choke down the laughter, turning back to Tony and wiping a tear from her eye. "Anytime. You've got three questions left, fly boy. Use them wisely."
"Why do you get so upset when you can't help?" The question came without any preamble, no build up, and it through Kathy.
"I don't get-!" she started to argue. Tony pointed to the row of still warm soufflés. She sighed, crossing her arms, and settled her hip against the counter.
"There aren't a lot of girls growing up on the street." She looked up at him, her features grave and eyes sad. "That being said, there are even less in thieving crews. The movies would have you think that they take girls to act as bait or a distraction, to flirt the crew's way into whatever club, shop or coat pocket was that day's mark. But the reality is that everybody's weak on the streets; there isn't enough food or beds to sleep in or shelter to hide in for everyone in a crew, let alone everyone on the streets. And the question comes out; if everyone's weak and girls are weaker than boys, what's the point? Girls can't carry as much, can't fight as hard, run as fast and that made them a liability.
"Being in a crew was the only way to survive out there. If you belonged to someone they'd give you food, someplace out of the weather to sleep. So long as you pulled your weight, you got a cut. I tried to get in to a crew for months but no one would take a girl so…" Kathy shifted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze to the floor and all too aware of Tony's watching her every movement, analysing, deciding, judging. "I started on my own. Eat to live, steal to eat and all that jazz. I racked up a bit of a reputation for being able to get into harder places without being caught. Taught myself how to pick locks, disable security systems and sneaking came pretty easily when you're a teenage girl trying to avoid the creeps that skulk around the city at night." She smiled heavily, the weight of the memory dragging the corners of it down.
"I finally got accepted into a crew. They called themselves the 'Twilighters'." Kathy couldn't help the chuckle that slipped out of her. "I heard they changed their names when those crappy books came out."
"I only read them for the sex scenes, I swear," Tony promised, hands up in the universal symbol for 'nope, not me, totally innocent, not suspicious at all'. Kathy smiled properly this time, shaking her head disbelievingly.
"It was appropriate though. They went out around closing time, just when the sun was setting, and sneak into shops. The boys would hide until everyone left and locked up then send me out to shut down all the cameras and alarms. We'd raid the place and bail, no fingerprints, no footage, no evidence. The runs were pretty easy it was just…" Kathy had to close her eyes for a second, just long enough to get a handle on the emotions sitting in her throat.
"When you fought that hard to get to a place where you thought you could survive, where there was enough food, blankets when it got cold and company that wouldn't try anything while you slept because they need you as much as you need them, you don't stop fighting; you make yourself fight harder to prove that you belong there, that you deserve what you're given. I kept trying to make them see that I was worth letting in; I kept practicing, learnt how to break into new systems, set up bank frauds, anything but sitting still so now I can't… I just can't do nothing. I need to pull my own weight."
Throughout her speech Tony had sat and listened, no interruptions, no cutting in, no expression on his face. He just kept watching her, watching the play of emotions over her face. Kathy wondered what he thought of her now, knowing what she'd done. She just hoped he'd keep letting her stay here and help with Steve.
It must have been over a minute and Tony still hadn't stopped staring. Kathy looked down at her feet.
"You've got two questions left." Tony leaned back and pursed his lips. He nods slowly.
"You're the Matron, aren't you?" Kathy didn't answer, just turned to look at him out of the corner of her eye, assessing. Tony smiled knowingly. "Don't worry. I won't tell."
"One more question."
"Well, we're all going up to see Steve. We found a new friend who decided to come home to play and he was wondering where the Cap had got off too." He pushed himself out of his chair and was halfway to the door before he turned back to look at her. "You coming?"
~AVENGERS~
The team were gathered in Steve's superheated hospital room, all of them washed and changed into civilian clothes, wounds tended to (Tony could see Bruce glaring at the brace Natasha had taken for her wrist instead of the plaster) and waiting for Peter. He had asked if he could go take a shower too and, once Tony had told Jarvis to direct Peter to the infirmary when he was done, they had all come. Tony had ventured in with Kathy in tow sometime after to the teams curious glances. Tony shook his head and they all let it alone.
A quick look around the room confirmed what Tony had already suspected; Clint had disappeared again. Tony frowned. He hadn't even had the chance to ask him where he'd been the last few days. Clint had randomly appeared in time to fight Jormungandr and nobody would have known until arrows started flying if it weren't for the suit picking him up hiding on that rooftop. Tony had jumped onto Clint's comm link and said, "Nice of you to show up, feathers," and Clint had replied, "Up yours, bolts for brains," and then Thor had spotted Loki and everything went downhill from there.
And now he was gone again. Tony couldn't help wondering where he'd been running off to.
The door pushed open and Peter walked in, the Spiderman suit gone in favour of some black skinny jeans, a V-neck tee-shirt, and a hooded jacket. The first thing Tony noticed, however, was the black kitten sitting attentively on Peter's shoulder, blue eyes narrowed suspiciously as it looked around the room, tail swishing ominously across its perch's back.
"How the hell did that get in my tower?" Tony blurted, an accusing finger pointed at the ball of fluff. Peter smiled slightly, reaching up to scratch between the cat's ears.
"He has a habit of finding me wherever I go. He was waiting on the bed in that guest room you sent me to."
"Jarvis?" Tony asked, still scowling at the offending animal.
"However he got in, Sir, I have no record of any breach in security," the AI replied primly. Tony huffed, making a mental note to look through Jarvis' coding because he was just getting too sassy.
Peter's eyes were fixed on the bed where Captain America lay and the woman standing next to him with a hand on his arm as he asked, "What happened?" Tony opened his mouth to say 'evil wizard/Norse god/alien' when Kathy cut in front of him.
"You can come closer, he won't bite." She smiled at him and Peter gulped quietly before taking a spot on the other side of Cap's bed. Tony watched curiously, not so much Peter (he may be a superhero but he was still a teenage boy in front of a pretty girl. It was a train wreck Tony had seen one too many times, thank you) but the cat. It was watching Steve, the narrow-eyed scepticism replaced by curiosity and not a small amount of disgust. Tony never knew cats could be so expressive but this one was certainly managing it.
"He got cursed," Kathy starts to explain. Peter looks interested. The kitten looks downright enthralled, its eyes still on Steve but its ears turned to Kathy. "He's living his nightmare and we don't know how to wake him up."
"Did you try a bucket of cold water?" Peter jokes. Kathy just grabs his hand and pushes it against Steve's skin. A shiver rips down his spin and he yanks it away.
"I don't think more cold would help."
Peter opens his mouth and Tony swears he's about to say 'warm water, then' when Kit jumps down onto Steve's chest and starts walking up to his face. Peter starts to apologise and reaches for the kitten.
"No!" Thor booms, jumping forward and grabbing Peter's wrist. "See what he does," Thor explained to the eyes now watching him. The cat looked to Thor and bowed its head. Thor returned the motion, releasing Peter's arm, and Tony really started to question the people he hung out with.
Kit walked until he had his front paws settled on Steve's chin, dipping his head and sniffing. He scrunched his nose in disgust, meowing quietly to himself. Peter looked to Tony helplessly. Tony shrugged, just as confused as him, and behind him Natasha and Bruce mimicked the gesture.
The kitten stepped up, placing one of its paws on Steve's forehead and Tony's eyes widened, reminded of the same stance Thor had taken when looking for the resonance to track Loki. The cat breathed deep and the hair on Tony's arms stood on end. The room buzzed with power and all of it was coming from the tiny creature sitting on the Captain's chest. The energy spiked and Tony felt the arc reactor sputter once before kicking back in and Tony thinks he should be concerned about that but he's a little preoccupied because Steve's eyes are open.
He gasped and bolted upright. Kit fell limp, dropping down but Steve caught him. He stared, confused, at the ball of black fluff in his huge hands.
"Steve…?" Kathy whispered. He turned to her.
"Kathy? What-" His question cut off when she threw her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. His face flooded with panic for a moment and he looked around at the awestruck faces of his teammates, finding no help from them. He shifted the cat into one hand and wrapped his arm around her. "Kathy, it's okay. Everything's fine, I'm fine. I promise." Just like that, Kathy was up and punching him. Tony winced in sympathy.
"You promise? Steven Grant Rogers, if you ever do that again, I am never making you anymore strawberry cheesecake and don't pretend you don't like them I know they're. Your. Favourite!" Each of the last words was punctuated by a fist in the shoulder. Steve looked fond, a little frightened and a lot confused. He looked to Tony questioningly and Tony wondered when he became first port of call for information but instead just smirked and mouthed 'Grant?'. Steve blushed lightly and looked down.
He saw the fur and asked, "Um, why is there a cat?" Peter sprung forward like he'd been waiting for an opportunity and seized Kit, cradling him close and checking his breathing with a furrow of worry between his brows. His shoulders only relaxed marginally when he found it.
"So, turns out your cat is magic," Tony put in helpfully. Natasha slaps him across the back of the head and Bruce stomped on his foot. "Ow. What? I was just stating a- Hey, what's up with Point Break?" Tony belatedly realised that Thor has just been standing at the foot of Steve's bed, his mouth a little agape and eyes watching the kitten.
"Thor?" Steve tried. "Are you ok-" BANG! The doors to the infirmary crashed open, guards poured, four of them surrounding Peter. He quickly dumped the unconscious Kit into the hood of his jumped just as his hands were wrenched behind his back, cuffs slapped around his wrists and hands fisted in his hair and shirt to hold him still.
"Hey!" Tony yelled. "What the hell is this?! Let him go! He's-"
"-Spiderman," a commanding voice that they all recognized too well called. All their objections cut off, Natasha snapped to attention as Nick Fury walked into the room, his one eye trailing along the Avengers; Natasha's impassive expression but the fire in her eyes, Bruce's green-tinged features, Tony's outright rage, Thor's godly menace and Steve, still on the bed with a hand around Kathy's waist, looking confused but spiteful at the sight of a teenager in handcuffs.
"So nice to see you all again," Fury continued, ignoring the hate-filled looks that could have set the Tower on fire with the force of their scorn. "Considering I haven't heard from any of you in two weeks." Fury turned to Steve. "Captain, good to see you're back with us." Steve flinched, knowing he could be charged with desertion (even if the punishment wasn't as harsh as in the war, a dishonourable discharge was still terrible to consider).
"What can we do for you, Nicky poo?" Tony singsonged, his biggest shit-eating paparazzi smile plastered on his face. "Come to share in the congratulatory dinner since we just saved New York again? Kathy's a great cook." The use of her proper name drove home the point to Kathy just how serious this was. She added her prize 'no, these aren't the iPhones stolen from that shop a few blocks back , I just bought them on ebay, yes, they're all for me' smile to Tony's.
"Yes, I made a fresh GTFO pie. You should try some; it's delicious," she invited.
"And what might be in this pie?" Fury tested, eyebrow raised sceptically.
"Granola, tapioca, fudge and orange slices. It's my mother's recipe."
"Sounds delightful," Fury drawled. "Unfortunately, I have some business to discuss with our 'friendly neighbourhood Spiderman'." Fury gestured to his men and they started dragging Peter out the door, the entire team yelling loudly for them to stop, unable to do anything.
"You promised," Peter calls back. "You promised!" Tony growled and launched himself at Fury. Natasha and Bruce grabbed him, wrestling him away from Fury who watched on with an amused smirk.
"Fucking let me go!" Tony screamed, thrashing against their hold.
"Tony, you can't help him if you're in a cell too!" Bruce reasoned. The fight just left him. He closed his eyes, took a steadying breath and hauled himself to his feet. Bruce and Natasha kept hold of his arms, Steve and Kathy watched on in horror, Thor stood with Mjolnir hefted and murder in his eyes.
"We'll get him back," Tony promised, his voice solid with certainty. "No matter what it takes, we'll get him back."
"I don't doubt you'll try," Fury returned. "But before you do that, you might want to talk to our informant." Fury turned on his heel, gesturing behind him, and he and his flood of agents left the room.
Standing silently in the doorway, head hanging, was Clint Barton.
A/N: I feel like an evil person for doing this to you considering I probably won't get around to uploading for another month but HAH CLIFFHANGER! HOPE YOU LIKE WAITING MWAHAHAHAHA!
Once again, thank you for reading and favouriting and following and all that good stuff. I love reading your comments and thank you all so much for the encouragement. Criticism is always welcome. Thank you, a million times thank you and, if anyone was interested, this story has just 30, 000 words and 70 pages in Word. This is officially the longest I've ever stuck with a story, even my originals that I want to publish so GO YOU GUYS!
See you later and thanks for giving me a reason to keep writing!
