A/N: Warning! The initial fight scene of this chapter goes completely off the rails at some point, and it gets pretty brutal. My descriptions with it aren't terribly gory, but it it's not overly pleasant so just brace yourself for it.
So this chapter is kind of major to the whole story, but it's also really miserable. So I've changed some things around in the next chapter so while bad stuff is still happening, I'll have a little bit of SpiderBell fluff as well because it's been way too long since those losers have felt any happiness at all. I can write happy stuff I just very rarely do it, besides the MCU is miserable all the time, I'm just following their lead ;). Also, no Peter in this chapter either but he's coming, don't you worry!
This might be my last update until Christmas but then again it might not be. If it is, then Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!
Robotics Fangirl: Ahhh! I missed you and your incorrect quotes! Seriously though, your reviews are the sweetest :) 3
Bbymojo: Adara realises that she didn't handle that situation well, but it would take a lot more to tear these two apart, I can promise that. The two will make it up to each other. At some point.
Guest: Thank you! I'm glad you liked the chapter. I use a few Billie Eilish lyrics here and there, she's a really good singer and her songs I can usually link back to this story. I listen to a little bit of Imagine Dragons, I really love their Smoke and Mirrors album and I'm fairly certain I've used a lyric here or there before, but there's been so many chapters that who knows at that point. Happy (early) Holidays to you too!
Lizlil: Omg, don't worry you didn't let me down, I was just going through a tricky time and honestly I'm so grateful for you, I'm pretty sure you've been reviewing this story forever so I really appreciate your support! I'm glad you're enjoying the newest chapters! Poor Adara definetley has a dangerous fucking life, and it's not getting much easier from here on out. Don't be too harsh on Peter, yeah it was a dumb decision but he's just a little cooped up, he paid the price for it after getting his ass kicked by the Green Goblin and then by his girlfriend. MJ and Ned are currently my favourite duo to write, even if they are going behind Harry's back :( They'll get around to telling him eventually. At some point. Brexit really isn't going great, but it's pretty much inevitably happening now that Johnson is in government with a massive majority. Hopefully, it doesn't play out too terribly and, in five years, we'll have another Labour government over here :)
Thanks to: Robotics Fangirl, PrettyRecklessLaura, bbymojo, Guest (1), kitsuneblackwater, Rory Caye, trigedakru and lizlil for either leaving a review or following/favouriting on the last chapter. As always, your support it always appreciated and really keeps my motivation to write going :) love you all!
"And oh, he must be up to something
What are the chances? Sure it's more than likely
I've got a feeling in my stomach
And start to wonder what his story might be"
Adara had told Harry that she wouldn't be going back to his place today, like she usually did after school. She never immediately went home to her apartment, mainly because it was empty for at least another three hours until Steve got back from the VA. However, she made the excuse today that she had a lot of homework and research to do, which Harry had taken some convincing to believe. Ned and MJ were still going to Harry's, it was something of a tradition now, their group at Oscorp Tower. But, she thought their group felt a little strange without Peter. She was reminded of her harsh attitude towards the boy last night and inwardly groaned.
Adara didn't actually go home to her apartment though.
"Karen," she said, with her glasses on, "which one is number 37?"
She was standing on a tall building, a few blocks away from Maple Street but overlooking it. Crouched down just out of view of any passersby below, or maybe for anyone who was looking for her.
"Number 37, Maple Street is also known as Saint Francis, a Catholic church," she said, "built before the American Revo—"
"I don't need a history lesson," she said sharply, "do a scan of the building, how many people are in there?"
There was a pause and then Karen said, "my scans report about fifteen people in there."
"And I'm guessing mass isn't in session?"
"Not at three o'clock on a Thursday."
"Are there any other entrances," she asked.
"Adara, I don't think this is a wise decision," said Karen, "perhaps waiting or asking for help may be the best and easiest way forward to solve this situation."
"Not a chance," she muttered, eyeing up the building, "this is the closest I've gotten to the Faceless Man. but, just to reassure you, I'm not going to walk straight through the double doors."
There was a pause and Karen, who often acted more human than AI, seemed to give in, "there's a hole in the roof, it should allow you access to the rafters overlooking the main church hall."
"You're a hero, Karen," Adara thanked her before removing her glasses.
She shifted into Bluebell, remaining crouched for a few seconds as her eyes scanned the outside of the church building, but she couldn't see anyone there. The streets were getting busier as rush hour approached, so as she zipped closer towards it, no one paid her much mind. When she landed on the steeped roof of the Church, she quickly checked that no one had noticed her. Nothing, no one pointing in a phone or excitedly pointing in the direction where she had been.
Good, that meant whoever was waiting for her inside had no idea where she was coming from.
There were fifteen men inside, or so Karen had told her, which definitely made her feel uncomfortable. What if she had just followed the instructions on the note and walked through the doors, would they have shot her down? Just like that? Or maybe they would've just taken all of her weapons off her of her and taken her to see their leader who, hopefully, was the Faceless Man. But Adara had no desire to face him unarmed, if this man was as dangerous as people said then having her knives would be a reassurance.
She sought out the hole in the roof, nothing massive but easy enough for her to squeeze through and, from there, it was easy to drop down onto one of the wooden, rafter beams above, allowing for a clear view of the entire hall. Part of the benefits of her rather brutal training regime when she was younger was her stealth. Obviously, her powers made it easy to spy, but she also knew how to sneak and hide in the shadows. She stepped along the wooden beams which, realistically, should be creaking under her weight, but she was able to carefully adjust her balance in order to be dead silent.
Below, she could see the church hall. Immediately, she spotted about ten men, patrolling with heavy rifles. A few were sitting in the pews, guns leaning next to them, looking around without much passion. This was less than Karen had told her, there had to be more somewhere, perhaps waiting to ambush her from a back entrance.
She edged around the rafters, being very careful not to make a noise. Towards the back of a church, there was a raised balcony with more pews, as well as a large organ. She dropped down onto one of the pipes, spotting about three men up there. Two were talking to one another, the other was milling around and looking down onto the church floor below. Her eyes narrowed as she dropped down to a lower pipe, focusing on the two chatting to each other.
There was a broken piece of glass sitting on top of the pipe, convenient for her. She picked it up and chucked it to the side.
"And I told him," the first man was saying, "that yes, I slept with her but I didn't know she was your wife. But then—" he turned around, hearing something. "What was that?"
The second man shrugged, "I didn't hear anything."
With a frown on his face, the first man turned around and walked to the back of the balcony, passing rows of pews to stand beside the organ pipes. Hadn't he heard the sound come from here? Glancing up and around, he saw nothing, maybe a bit of wind had knocked something over. Or maybe he was just imagining things.
When he turned around, he saw that his two buddies he was working on the balcony with were gone. Frowning, he stepped forward to where he was talking to his friend, only to find him bleeding out between a row of pews, neck slit. He then glanced to the side where the third man had been observing the hall from the balcony, he was lying on the floor as well, probably just as dead.
He opened his mouth, about to raise the alarm.
Something suddenly stopped him, someone placing a hand over his mouth and then using a mouth to slit his throat open.
Adara still kept her hand over his mouth as he fell to the floor, gurgling. When she was sure he was completely dead, she stepped back, staring at the blood on her knife.
"Try to just knock people out this time," she muttered to herself.
She crept towards the barrier that overlooked the rest of the church hall. Three down, twelve to go. She could still see ten of them, patrolling below, but the location of the other two were a mystery.
She headed down the stairs to the bottom floor of the church. She could make a little more noise now, most of the men were talking to each other, seemingly bored by their patrolling. It wouldn't be long until someone noticed that three of them were down but, luckily, no one seemed to be going up the steps yet.
The stairs led to the entrance of the church, a small section filled with flyers and a donation box, that was where she saw the two other men. They were waiting by the closed doors, waiting for them to open, back to her. If Adara took down one, she risked alerting the other, as they stood so close to each other. She would have to be quick, as it only took a second to alert the rest of the men that she was here.
With bated breath, she waited, eyes darting around to work out how to do this. A few seconds later, she had a strategy and darted out from the stairs. She drove her knife through the first man's chest, and grabbed his rifle before it could clatter to the ground. Instantly, the second man saw her and made his move, but she was quicker. She used the but of the rifle to knock him out to the ground. Then, did the same with the first man before he could even groan in pain.
She had horrifically injured one into life critical condition, and merely knocked out another. So it was going better than what she did with the first three. She rummaged through their bodies and found, in one of their jacket's, a pistol with a silencer.
"Cela pourrait être utile," she remarked to herself in a mutter and took it from him.
She glanced up. The doors that led to the church halls had glass in them, but they were made out of stained glass, depicting some religious event probably, so no one could see through them clearly.
Quickly, she headed back up the stairs and climbed up the organ again until she was back to comfortably balancing on top of the rafters. Still, none of the men down below had noticed, but Adara reckoned she was counting down the mere minutes until one of them noticed that the others hadn't reported in, or just saw one of the bodies. Either way, Adara's game was nearly up.
However, the problem was that she could no longer be as stealthy as she had been. Here in the church hall, if she were to come down and take down one of the men, she would likely be spotted instantly. However, now that she up here with a pistol, it would be easy to shoot, the silencer would make her location harder to pin down as well. Not that the shot would be completely silent, but it would be difficult for them to hear over their own chatter.
Quietly, she pulled out the pistol, eyes narrowing in on one man, sitting in the pews. She didn't want to kill him, she had enough of that, but she could do plenty of damage without giving the fatal shot.
Carefully, she aimed for his leg and fired. Before he could even cry out in pain, he had been struck two more times on the shoulder and stomach. He fell to the ground, not quite unconscious, but unable to move. One of the men next to her noticed and she quickly shot him in both of his knees before he could even begin to look for her.
By the time the other men had even noticed, she had vanished to another beam, and they had no idea where the shot had come from.
"She's here," said one of them, with a gruff voice, perhaps the leader of some kind. "In the rafters, draw her out."
Briefly, she wondered if he was the Faceless Man, but didn't have time to contemplate it as the rifles turned to the ceiling. None of them had quite spotted her yet, her dark suit melted into the shadowy corner she was ducked in. Yet, if she fired another shot, they would definitely pin her down within seconds.
She hesitated, unsure of what to do.
That hesitation was a mistake.
"There!" Their leader yelled.
She dodged suddenly as bullets began splintering the wood of the beam she was crouched on, and used her grappling hook to swing her downwards. Her fingers hooked onto a beam that was further away, and it was a scramble to pull herself up onto it as splinters of wood dug into her fingers.
"Don't shoot to kill!" He yelled again.
Adara barely had time to notice those words or figure out what that could mean for her, as the bullets coming from eight guns battered the wooden beam she was standing on. She went to jump away, but the beam gave way, splitting in half at the rage of the rifle rounds digging straight into the old wood. Her foot slipped and she attempted to shoot her grappling hook onto something so she didn't fall, but it was too late.
She landed in the middle of the church, her back hitting the solid ground and she hissed in pain. That would leave a particularly bad bruise, but the ceiling wasn't high enough for the drop to actually kill her.
The men were closing in on her, and she was barely able to push herself back up to her feet in time to avoid one of them grabbing her. Her spine screamed in protest at the sudden movement, but she ignored it as she smashed an elbow into the face of her attacker and swept his legs out from underneath him. Yet, someone else grabbed her from behind.
Luckily, she was able to raise her fist and fire a grappling hook to pull her upwards, but they grabbed onto her leg. She kicked the man in the face, yet another one came after him and pulled her back down. Two of them were holding her back now, and she attempted to yank out of their grips. Her eyes flickered to the pistol she had dropped while falling, but only for a second.
One man, the leader, approached her while she thrashed against her captors. He was holding a damp cloth and she realised what it was suddenly. Chloroform! She definitely wasn't having that.
For a moment, she stopped struggling and the hands holding her relaxed. Then, as the man stepped closer, she struck her foot out to kick him in the balls. The shock of the movement meant the two men let her go for a second, and it was all she needed. She pulled a knife from her belt and stabbed one in the stomach, before aiming for the other one. She grappled with him for a few seconds, before burying her knife into his shoulder.
"Bitch!" The Leader, who seemed to be limping with pain due to her crotch kick, growled in her direction.
She wiped the blood she had gotten on her face and met his furious expression with a vicious snarl. She suddenly darted for the silencer when she felt a round go off next to her ear, a bullet narrowly missed her skull from one of the other men. She grabbed the pistol and shot him through the head without a second thought and then took a very quick second to glance around.
Fifteen men had now gone down to four, including the leader. She shot one more down and aimed at a second one.
Click, nothing. She threw the gun to the side, useless, and braced herself as one of the three men left ran at her with a sharp blade in his hand.
His strength was a lot, but Adara was the expert with the blade. He knocked her down together back, attempting to dig the weapon into her shoulder but she wouldn't have it, holding his beefy arm as she kicked at his stomach in retaliation. It bothered him, but he was too focused and Adara grunted underneath his weight as he got closer to her poor shoulder, which had already been battered by bullet wounds in the past.
Then, she thought for a second, and shot out a hand to grab him by the neck. He yelled and dropped the knife as she tightened her grip painfully around his throat. With her free hand, she reached for the dropped blade and put it through his heart, pulling it out suddenly and feeling his blood spray against her upper body.
She rolled his body off of her and stabbed an approaching man in the knees, before getting to her feet and slitting his throat.
The leader, the only one left now, shot at her, but she easily dodged it. He dropped his rifle, probably empty and charged at her. Instead of moving to the side, avoiding or running, she ran right back at him. He had a small, sharp blade that he pointed at her throat, but she knocked him down with a sweeping kick.
He sliced her calf, and she doubled over, letting out an animalistic yell, before gripping his wrist and twisting it so hard that she felt a satisfying crack. Then, as he recovered from that pain, she bent over him, pressed a knee into his chest and put her hands around his neck.
He struggled against her, but it was useless, he was too weak from his injuries. He went limp and Adara collapsed off of him, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling, eagle-spread, heaving in deep breaths. Around her, surrounded the bodies of several men, some dead, some unconscious, but all injured in some horrific way or another.
Her father would've been proud.
But she was completely shattered, her limbs no longer following her rules, and her mind returning to her body, almost ready to realise the true, brutal actions she had just committed.
And then, a slow clap resounded through the church.
Footsteps echoed through the hall, and Adara struggled to push herself upright into at least a sitting position to see where it was coming from.
At the altar, at the front of a church, stood a priest with honey-brown eyes and an unnatural smirk plastered over his face, as he clapped his hands together. He was a little short, his black, vicar robe ill-fitting. But other than that, he looked like a normal man, nothing wrong with him in anyway shape or form.
Yet, when Adara saw him, she felt the sudden urge to throw up. It was an overwhelming sense of wrongness that drowned out any other feelings and left her feeling horrible.
"Now," he said, his voice smooth and very priestly. "Wasn't that a show. Are you proud of you work?"
He made a sweeping gesture, but Adara didn't even look at the bodies around her.
"What's wrong with you?" The question spilled out before she could stop herself.
"I could ask you the same question, Adara Thomas," he said, but it was evident from her expression that she didn't understand. "Didn't I ask you to come as yourself?"~
Maybe if she was any less exhausted, she might have protested, but this man already knew who she was, what she looked like and her name. So, she let her abilities shimmer away to reveal the actual Adara Thomas, whose hair was in a complete, frizzy state, and her body just as brutalised, injured and exhausted as it had been in her Bluebell form.
"There we go," he said, "that feels better."
"What's wrong with you?" She asked.
"You're right," he sighed, "I suppose I should return the favour."
Suddenly, his body shimmered and the same priest was not standing there. Instead, there was a tall man, with hard eyes and broad body. His hair was dark and swept back out of his face, his eyebrows thick and dark and furrowed to form a cocky expression. His skin was paler and the priest robe fit him much better, it was even a little small now.
But she hardly registered his appearance, looking right into his eyes, his honey brown eyes that had not changed colour.
"You," she breathed, "you're a shapeshifter as well."
"Has she called you?" Asked Harry down the phone.
"Who's he calling now?" Asked MJ, sitting down cross-legged next to Ned with a packet of potato chips in hand.
"Peter, I think."
"Hasn't he already called him?"
"Yeah, but he is 'just making sure,'" Ned sighed, taking a chip when MJ offered. "I can't blame him for panicking, Adara's ignoring my texts and calls too. But, if you ask me, it's clear where she is."
"Where?" She frowned.
"Harry told me she received this," and he handed her the piece of paper.
"Thirty-seven Maple Street?" She frowned, "where's that?"
"A church in Manhattan," said Ned. "She told Harry she wouldn't go but…"
"But that's definitely where she is," finished MJ with a sigh. "Do you think she's okay?"
"I'm sure she's fine," Ned shrugged and MJ felt a little surprised at how nonchalant he seemed. He glanced at her, noticing her expression. "This is hardly the worst situation Adara's gotten herself into, she's not completely helpless. Sure, she can be stupid but if this person wanted her dead, they would've done a better way than sending a note to her. If anything, this person just wants to talk to Adara."
MJ considered this, "do you think this has to do with the Faceless man."
"Probably."
"Peter says he still hasn't heard from her," Harry sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket. He sank back into his desk chair, rubbing his forehead. "He's gone to the bloody address, hasn't she?"
"Almost definitely," said MJ bluntly.
"Well, we should go then–"
He was cut off by MJ and Ned both loudly going, "no, no, no!"
"She'll be fine," Ned continued, "Adara's not stupid enough to just walk into the address, I'm sure she has Karen scouting out the area. Besides, if it is dangerous then how the hell can we help?"
Harry shut up, that was a good point. Adara had told off Harry in the past for trying to get involved with these things.
He gave a helpless shrug, "well, we have to do something."
MJ glanced at Ned and gave him a small nod. Front the look on his face, he had no idea what she was trying to indicate. She glanced at Harry, who was flicking through his laptop in between letting out loud sighs, and leant over to whisper to Ned.
"I'm going to investigate Norman. Keep him distracted."
Ned's eyes widened and he nodded importantly, jumping to his feet. "Hey, Harry, why don't we do some research into this location."
Hardy frowned, "how would that help?"
"Well it might have history with mob or gang organisations," Ned said. "You know, like in the movies where the priests are always secretly evil."
"Yeah…" Harry seemed to seriously be considering it, it must've been the mention of movies. MJ felt the urge to roll her eyes, boys and their pop culture. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Want to help, MJ? It's good for journalism and investigation and stuff."
She raised an eyebrow, "you've given very convincing reasons, but not right now. I've got an essay I need to write, anywhere quiet I can write it."
"Just use Adara's old room like you usually do."
"Right, thanks," she smiled at Harry, giving Ned a more significant look. "I'll be back in like half an hour. Tell me if you find anything."
MJ left Harry's room but, instead of heading towards Adara's old room, that was almost completely cleared out now, she walked towards Norman's office.
Yet, when she got there, the door was locked. Shit, there was a dead end. Then, she heard something down the corridor. Voices. They were coming towards her, and MJ didn't want to appear suspicious, however she couldn't help but feel curious to what they were talking about.
She backed into a different room, an empty lounge. The penthouse had a ridiculous amount of rooms, MJ was fairly certain Harry didn't even use all of them. She made sure to leave the door open a crack, allowing her to see outside and hear what they were saying.
"Completely lost it," she heard one scientist saying. "We're going nowhere, we need to make progress soon."
"We are," said the other, "tomorrow, you know that. All the pieces are in place, we just have to make sure everything goes correctly…"
As their voices faded, MJ heard a strange noise. It was quiet, she only heard it as it was right outside the door, but the two scientists obviously didn't as they continued walking away. Once she was sure they were gone, she pushed the door completely open to see what had made that noise.
The sound had been something hard but small falling against the concrete floor. And, sure enough, an ID card was sitting on the floor, obviously dropped by one of the scientists without realising. MJ couldn't help but letting out a small, rare yet smug smile to herself as she bent down to pick it up. The scientist's name was 'Leonard Pelvoy,' not anyone of any importance, however he seemed to obviously have a high enough clearance to get her where she wanted to go.
She made her way towards the elevator, but opened it using the scientist's pass, rather than the guest pass Harry always gave her when she came in here. When the doors opened, MJ noticed that more of the elevator buttons were lit up, including the ones directly below the penthouse that she knew even Harry didn't go to. Even more intriguing, she could access the basement level. MJ hadn't even realised there had been a basement level.
But she didn't go there first, pressing the button to go two floors below the penthouse. When the doors slid open, she saw an empty corridors, with the lights off. Nervously, she stepped out, and suddenly they all came on.
For a few seconds, she stood there, uncertain of what to do. But she couldn't hear anyone walking around, and most of the lights in the labs and offices down the corridor were off. They must've all clocked out, or were working somewhere else. Still, she had to be careful. Scanning around, she spotted security cameras down the corridor. While she doubted they would be actively being watched at the moment as she hadn't set off any alarms, she shouldn't do anything stupid.
She glimpsed into the labs as she walked past, but it was difficult to make anything out. It was the offices she was most interested in, yet the first one had drawers full of files that were locked. Adara had once taught MJ to pick locks, however even Adara could only do it with a proper lock pick, and maybe a hair pin if she was really concentrating. MJ had neither of those things on her, it was a lost cause. She checked out the other offices, but the result was the same for the next three.
However, there was one at the end of the corridor that MJ still hadn't checked out.
She turned on the light, seeing a few desks, mostly empty but one, in the middle that looked like some sort of meeting table, had a heavy folder sitting on top of it. Obviously, someone had forgotten to clear it away, or they weren't done with it yet.
MJ pulled it over to her and flicked it over to a random page.
Instead of seeing a blueprint for technology used by the Green Goblin, as she had seen the other night, MJ instead saw a blueprint for something more familiar. Something that had nearly hit her that night when the fire elemental had appeared, the key to discovering Beck's lies that night on the bridge.
A projector.
Beck's projector.
It was an in-depth study of the technology, accompanied with annotations on how it worked and, to her dread, notes on how to improve the technology in handwriting she recognised as Norman's. She flicked to the next page, which was hardly much better with a sketch of the drones.
It was the next page that was the worse though.
It was a detailed sketch of an improved drone-and-projector combination, like the kind Beck had used in London to create the fake monster, and it was controlled by a signal source once again. This time, however, the source was not as sleek and easy as EDITH was.
It seemed to be some kind of engine, placed in the centre of a control panel. There, it could connect to Oscorp drones stored in the atmosphere, as well as from other companies. It was also connected to drones on the ground too, the ones belonging to Beck which hadn't entirely been destroyed. And they were making more, new and improved ones. It was all a sick improvement on Stark's EDITH technology, and an even worse expansion on Beck's BARF technology.
Except, with these blueprints, they would be making something a lot more dangerous.
MJ just had to hope this was a scientific experiment or hypothesis constructed by Norman and his team to explore this technology, and perhaps use it for good. Yet, the case against Norman Osborn had already been building with the Green Goblin incident, was this just another stone on the pile?
Quickly, MJ got out her phone and took photos of the pages in the file, before tucking it back in her pocket and putting the folder back where she had found it.
Then, she booked it out of there, entering the elevator, still feeling the weight of what she had just found burdening down on her shoulders. She needed to tell Ned, Peter, Adara.
Harry.
No, she still needed more proof. Her eyes flickered over to the button to the basement. Tonight, she would convince Harry to let her stay over, and check it out herself to make sure they weren't building what those dreaded blueprints said they might. If they were, then she would have enough proof to build her case.
Against Norman Osborn. Her friend's father.
It didn't matter. If Norman was doing what she feared he might, then he needed to be stopped. Explaining it to Harry would be hard, but he would understand. He would have to.
She hadn't even found any more information on the Green Goblin like she hoped she might, but her stomach was curling with dread as she pushed the button to access the penthouse.
She just hoped that wherever Adara was, she was having a more positive discovery than MJ was having. They could do with some relief.
This wasn't the case.
Just like MJ, though she didn't know they were experiencing the same feeling, Adara felt her stomach, her insides curl up with a weighty dread as she looked up at the man she had been looking for standing at the altar. His face was cast in darkness, yet the light of the setting sunlight piercing through the stained glass windows behind him lit up his outline as he moved towards her, stepping down from the altar.
This was him. The Faceless Man.
And he was truly faceless. He wasn't one man, keeping his head low and running his business from the shadows, nor was he multiple men working under one alias.
He was a shapeshifter, face-changer, just like her. Did the chameleon particle run through his veins just as it ran through hers? But how? She thought she was the only one, Luka had thought she was the only one, Hydra thought she had been the only one.
How could they all have made such a mistake?
"How?" She asked.
"It's a long story," he waved his hand dismissively, Adara noted his thick Irish accent returned to him in this form. "One that neither of us have time for."
"You were there last night," she realised, "with Abbadon. I saw you… Felt you."
"Yes, you were getting closer," he said. "I'll give it to you, your stubborn, you don't know when to stop. But I needed to know last night if you could sense me just as I could sense you."
"What does that mean?"
"You felt it the moment you saw me in that different form," he approached her and she took a few steps back. Exhausted, leaning on the church pews for support. "That horrible feeling within you, you knew something was wrong, you knew I was wearing someone else's face."
"And you feel it when you see me?"
He nodded, "that makes you a weakness for me. Sure, the eyes never change colour but contacts are always an option. But you can see through that, and I'm not sure how comfortable I am with that."
She shot him a famous Adara-glare, feeling a pain in her leg. It was bleeding where the leader had sliced her calf, and she left a trail of blood as she took steps back away from him, barely keeping herself upright. But she didn't let her hurt show, scrunching her nose up in disgust at him.
"I'm hardly comfortable with your existence either," she hissed. "You're a gangster, mobster, murderer."
"And I'm sure you're a much better person than me," he simply seemed amused, it was aggravating. "I know all about you, Adara Thomas, you've had an intriguing life, they should write a book about it or something."
She shifted her weight onto her other leg, a move that he noticed, yet she maintained her glare.
"I know everything, that's just how my life is," he said. "And I was so excited to see you, to see whether what I hear is an exaggeration and it's all true." He gestured around them. "Fifteen men, that's no small feat. I didn't order them to kill you, if you walked through the front doors they would simply take you to me. But you chose to be more cautious, make your own way in. Just as I hoped. You're ruthless."
Adara hated the fact that he was right. She had completely lost herself by the end of the fight, trying not to kill hadn't worked so she had slashed and screamed until she was the last one standing. Always the last one standing.
"Why did you find Beck?" She decided to get things back on track, get an answer out of him that helped her figure this all out.
"He hates Stark, he wanted revenge and his plan was interesting," he shrugged. "I knew the kid, Parker, would be involved in some way and, therefore, so would you. It was an easier route to get to you, if Beck hadn't been so incapable, of course."
"You hired him to get to me?"
"And to cause general chaos," he gave her shark-like grin. "Chaos makes a profit for me, SHIELD is in complete shambles and that's certainly helping me. And, I have to admit, it's fun to watch."
"People died."
"People die all the time," he straightened up, a glitter of something dangerous in his eyes.
She flinched back a little, "did you contact J Jonah Jameson? Did you give him the footage?"
"One of Beck's associates who avoided custody gave me the footage," he said. "And I have contacts with the Bugle, it was just convenient."
"Why leak his identity?"
"It helped a few people who paid me," he said. "Not many people like Spiderman, some are looking for revenge."
Part of her remembered what Peter had said the Green Goblin told him. He was looking for revenge, but who was behind the mask? She shoved that thought away for later.
"Why not leak my identity?"
"Didn't feel the need to," he shrugged. "Not yet, at least. You still have use, Adara, and now I have leverage over you."
"Use?" She repeated.
"Adara Thomas, me and you are alike in more ways than you know," he said. "However, only one of us seems to understand the true range of our power. You use it to pretend to be some kind of blue-haired hero, and I've created an empire. We are the only two people in this world with this ability, if we worked together–"
"No," she said instantly. "I have no desire to be pushed around by you."
He let out a heavy sigh of disappointment, and took a few more steps closer. She stayed in place, leaning against the pew and glaring up in defiance, feeling for the one knife she had left in her belt of her suit.
"Can't you see?" He said, "I'm already the one in control here."
"What does that mean?"
"All the pieces are in place, Adara Thomas. I want more power, I already know exactly how to get it, and I'm on the cusp of getting it. You stand against me, you won't like how it ends."
She studied him, "who are you?"
He gave her a rueful smile and shook his head, "join me and I'll tell you."
Her face was uncertain, the glare was gone. His offer wasn't tempting, yet she couldn't help but feel a certain pull towards him. It struck her then that they were not only linked through their ability, but the Soul Stone too, if their powers came from the same source.
Someone else is here.
In a movement that was shockingly quick for her inured state, she lashed out with the knife.
But he saw it coming instantaneously and, before the blade could get anywhere near his throat, his hand shot out to grab her wrist, twisting it and shoving her to the floor.
She rolled away from him, getting back to her feet with effort.
"Come on," he shook his head, "look at yourself, you're hardly in any state to be fighting. Give up here and I won't hurt you."
She didn't back down, not for a second.
He rolled his eyes, before pulling a dagger from the priest robes he was wearing, "I see how it is then."
She ran at him, bringing the knife down, but his blade clashed with her, one-handed, swiping her weapon away. She hardly gave up though, pushing an offensive so aggressive that she barely felt her exhaustion at all. Yet, it must've been showing in her movement as he easily combated every strike and move she made.
And then he switched to the offensive, and suddenly she was was forced to step back as she tried to defend herself. It was obvious that this man was just as well trained as she was with a knife, something she wasn't comfortable with. A knife was her weapon, yet here she was inches away from being stabbed by one.
She tripped as she hit a step and barely managed to dodge the dagger he bought down.
She scrambled up the rest of the steps until she was at the top of the altar, breathing heavily as she looked down at him.
He hadn't even broken a sweat.
"They told me you were stupid," he said, "they never said you were a fool."
"Obviously you don't know me as well as you think you do then," she spat at him, feeling that red fury she felt earlier rising back up inside of her. Inwardly, she was furious but, outwardly, her body was trembling from the exertion, exhausted, angry and maybe a little scared. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" He shrugged, walking up the steps. "I could be anyone, just as you could be."
She backed away around the other side of the altar to keep away from him, "everyone comes from somewhere. You're Irish, were you bornin Ireland? Do you still live there?"
"Ask all you want, I'm not giving you answers," he laughed, not with any mocking but as if he was genuinely amused. "You're persistent, I suppose others find you annoying."
"My old Hydra file called me a pest."
The smile did not leave his face as he walked around the altar, but she simply walked back around it, maintaining the distance between them. It was a stare off across the holy table. Above them, a stained glass window of Mary and her baby watched them.
"I want you by my side," he said, "my equal, not my enemy. Our abilities may have limits, Adara Thomas, but we're the only ones who know them."
Adara didn't feel like an equal to him, not after their fight. She felt battered and bruised, he had purposefully weakened him but, even at full strength, she felt that he would be a tricky enemy to defeat.
"You need me by your side," she hissed, "because I'm the only one who can tell whether your shifted or not."
"That too, I suppose," a flicker of annoyance crossed his features, but only for a moment. "But don't be mistaken, Adara Thomas, you are not a necessity. If you join me, I can promise your safety. If you don't, if you continue to stand in my way, I can not only promise that your friends will suffer, but you will suffer too. More than anyone. You will never be safe."
His words were an eerie echo of Beck's threat not so long ago, and the haunting promise given to her by the Soul Stone. Yet from him, it wasn't just a threat, not was it a promise. It was a guarantee. He was the mastermind behind all of this, the one in control. He had been the one to leak Beck's footage to the Bugle, he had been the one funding Beck, what else could he do? Her mind flickered back to the Green Goblin. Was that him too?
"I won't join you," she said.
He grimaced, but only like this was a small disappointment. "I hope you'll soon see sense, Adara Thomas. Many people in your life died because they couldn't see sense, I had hoped you wouldn't be another one."
As he began to walk away from the altar, she froze.
"What does that mean?" She said, feeling for the knife in her hand. She wasn't done with him.
He glanced over his shoulder and smirked.
Instantly, she felt her confusion wash away, replaced with hot, burning fury.
She ran at him but he easily dealt with he. He raised his own dagger to knock her knife out of her hand and grabbed her wrist, forcing her backwards so she was pressed against the altar. And then he struck and she let out a strangled cry.
For a moment, she thought she might've been blinded. But, when the immediate, searing pain was over, her eyesight in her left eye returned, yet the pain didn't quite fade.
He had sliced her face, from her cheek to above her left eyebrow, leaving a sharp but deep scar. It hadn't quite struck her eyeball, she reckoned he had missed that on purpose, but it still stung like hell. He stepped back and she sank to the ground, back still pressed against the altar, as she felt her face. When she pulled her hand away, it came back, sticky with blood.
He eyed her seriously with honey-brown eyes, almost golden in this light, before allowing a satisfied smile to appear on his face.
"Remember me, Adara Thomas," he said, already turning to leave, "we're not finished yet."
But she was finished.
She watched him leave, not raising a finger to stop him. And, when the church doors slammed behind him, it was only then did she allow herself to sink to the ground completely , letting out a whimper of pain and she tried to stop herself from crying. She would not cry. She would not cry. But it was hard to stop when dry sobs heaved her chest, as she lay there, surrounded by the bodies of the men she had fought.
Her leg was bleeding, her face was bleeding, her body was bruised from the brutal fight, limbs aching with over-exertion. For what felt like hours, she lay in the shadow of the altar, watching the church grow darker as the sun piercing through the stained glass windows began to fade.
Only when night fell completely, did she find the strength within herself to stand up.
With her pride just as injured as her body, humiliated and defeat, Adara left the Church.
"I don't know," said Steve to his oldest friend, "I'm out here, doing the shopping while Adara's doing some form of investigation into what's going on. I'm worried for her, Buck, I really am but there's no stopping her when she's got her mind set on something. I don't think I'm enough to protect her."
Bucky frowned, watching Steve get his keys out of his coat. The two had met up after Steve's shift at the VA, and Bucky had offered to help with the shopping. A lot has happened these past couple of days, specifically regarding Spiderman and the Bluebell, and it was fairly obvious that it was weighing down on his best friend's mind. He was anxious, tired and uncertain. Bucky reckoned that Steve found this whole 'parenting a young teenage assassin/superhero/shapeshifter' as a lot easier when Natasha was here.
"Adara can handle a lot," Bucky said and he knew that for certain. "She'll get through this. It'll all be cleared up within a few days."
"I hope so," grumbled the blonde as he unlocked the front door to the apartment. "Adara?" He called out as the two entered, "I'm back."
No response. He exchanged a look with Bucky.
"Adara?" He repeated.
"Maybe she's out with friends?"
Steve shrugged, "maybe, but she usually texts me if she's going to be home after me."
Thankfully, they didn't have to worry and theorise for long as the two of them heard the distinct sound of a window sliding open, coming from Adara's bedroom. It was then followed by a thump and a familiar voice yelling "merde!"
"Why doesn't she just use the front door?" Asked Bucky.
"She prefers breaking into her own apartment via the fire exit," Steve said with a sigh that indicated this was a regular occurrence.
Before either of them could calm out to Adara though, they heard something else.
A distinct yell of fury came from the girl, followed by the sound of wood snapping. Both of the super soldiers stared at the sharp end of a knife which was now sticking out of Adara's bedroom door. She had just thrown a knife at the door, with enough force that it went straight through.
Steve moves forward but the bedroom door had already opened, and Adara was pulling the knife out of it. She then walked forward, taking a few seconds to realise both Steve and Bucky were there.
To put it in the nicest way possible, Adara looked awful. Her hair was frizzy and messy, making it look like she had been dragged through a hedge and her Bluebell suit was ripped on her right calf, revealing a bleeding cut. She moved in a way that indicated she was in pain everywhere, her entire body was shaking and she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself after she put her knife back in her belt.
But the most noticeable problem was the large, bleeding cut that had drenched half of her face in red blood. It ran from the middle of her left cheek, to just above her left eyebrow, fresh and painful, Bucky could tell from the way she kept that eye firmly shut. The cut just missed going over her actual eye though, he hoped it hadn't left her blinded in anyway.
"Oh hey," she said, her attempt to act casual hindered by her appearance and the way her voice was hoarse and low. "Sorry about the door, I accidentally through the knife too hard."
"Jesus, Adara," said Steve, which was a surprise considering he rarely blasphemed. "What the hell happened?"
"I through my knife through the door."
"He means this," said Bucky, guesturing to all of her.
"Oh," she pretended to have only just realised what they meant. Bucky reckoned she was pretending to not be in as much pain as she actually was, but the way she meant against the couch gave her away. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I just need a quick shower."
She stood up straight before immediately falling over. Luckily, Steve caught her and sat her down on the floor, kneeling next to her as she rubbed her forehead.
"Blacked out for a few seconds there," she forced a laugh, looking rather nervously between them. "Guess I just stood up too quickly. Anyway…" she tried to get back to her feet, but Steve caught her and forced her back down.
"Adara," he said, "you're bleeding and shaking. What happened to you? Who did you get into a fight with?"
"Some goons," she said. "You should see them."
"Did they do that to your face?" Asked Steve, his face doubtful like he didn't quite believe the girl's excuse.
She somberde for a second but didn't answer.
"Buck," he said, "get the medic kit, it's in the bathroom drawer. Can you see out of that eye, Adara?"
She gave a rather meek nod, "yeah, it just hurts."
Bucky came back with the medical kit and handed it to Steve, crouching down next to him in case he needed help patching up the girl. He place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, yet she just winced in pain.
"Yeah, no," she said, "not there. That's the side I landed on when I dropped from the church rafters."
"You were in a church?" Bucky blinked.
"Not for mass," she said, wincing as Steve applied pressure to the sound on her leg, before handing her a different cloth which Adara pressed against her bleeding face. "I need a shower."
"Once I stop the bleeding," Steve said softly. "What happened?"
"There was…" she looked rather sheepish. Bucky had a feeling she had done something rather stupid and wasn't willing to admit it. "There was an address," she said finally. "For a church. I snuck in and took down the guards, and all I had was that cut but then…" she glanced between the two of them, apprehension and a hint of fear shadowing her features. Not towards them, towards something else. "Then there was a man."
"A man?" Prompted Steve gently.
"The Faceless Man."
Both he and Bucky took a sharp intake of breath at that. The Faceless Man had been another point of Steve's anxiety over the recent cropping up of that name, specifically when his focus seemed to be Adara. Bucky was familiar with it too, in his latter years at Hydra, he remembered doing a few missions related to it. But he doubted he ever come into contact with the actual man, he lived in the shadows, controlling everything from a distance. At least, that was Bucky's theory.
"He's a shifter," she said, "like me."
Steve looked up from the wound on her leg, "how is that possible?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I need to find out who he is. I–" she tried to move but both Steve and Bucky stopped her.
"No," he said, "you need to rest. Can you heal this?" He gestured to the wound on her leg.
"I think so," she said, "it's not that deep. I can probably heal my bruises too."
"You'll be tired."
"I can heal it partly at least," she reassured.
"And your eye?"
At that, she paused, swallowing. "No," her voice was very hoarse, "I won't heal it. I want to keep it."
Bucky, who had a reminder of his own past in the form of his arm, frowned, "are you sure?"
Her green eyes were deadly serious, "yes."
"Okay then," Steve didn't sound entirely convinced, but it was her choice. "I think I've stopped the bleeding, you need to wash it off in the shower, make sure it's clean before you heal it."
Adara gave a sigh, but thankfully Steve stood up first and lifted her to her feet. Her movements were gradually growing more sluggish and tired, Bucky was surprised she could even stay conscious, let alone walk and talk.
"Tomorrow," said Steve, "we talk about this."
Adara nodded, dimly recognising his words but looking distant. Bucky exchanged a worried look with Steve. She was obviously troubled by her encounter, they had both heard that angry yell before the knife had gone through the door. That, and while Adara could be trembling from exhaustion and pain, her clenched fist indicated it could be something else too. Rage, fury, it radiated off the girl, almost as much as her tiredness did.
Bucky's stomach twisted in anxiety, beginning to feel the sense of a brewing storm.
A/N: Yikes, this is a long chapter but I am so happy with how it turned out. The Faceless Man is finally here, and he means business. Honestly, I needed to completely tear Adara down here. She's been fairly obsessed with finding out who the Faceless Man despite literally everyone earning her not to be, and the encounter was never going to be much fun, but she's pretty much at her lowest moment here. Almost. She can still stoop lower, hee hee.
Anyway, that's a wrap on the chapters, please leave a review they are always, always, always appreciated! For anyone reading White Whispers and Whiter Shadows, I will try and get the next chapter up before the end of the year, but I'm really struggling with writer's block on one of the scenes, so it might take some time.
In the meantime, however, Happy Holidays and have some incorrect quotes:
Norman: So, are there any lucky ladies in your life?
Harry, very seriously: Tell me every aspect of my personality that made you think I was straight so I can change it immediately.
Yes, Harry is bi but I picture him as having a preference towards guys.
Adara: I want you to kill Luka but make it look like an accident.
Peter: Say no more.
[Later]
Police Detective: Looks like the killer beat him to death with a crowbar and then placed a banana peel by his feet.
Can't believe it's almost Christmas.
Beck: Help me!
Adara: I'm not helping you.
Beck: Why not? Is this because I betrayed you that one time?
Adara: Yes! That was literally our last interaction!
I'm not feeling overly festive but I guess politics and exams has me all miserable.
Harry: Let's play truth or dare.
Adara: Okay, truth.
Harry: How many hours of sleep did you get this week?
Adara: Dare.
Harry: I dare you to go to sleep.
Adara: … I don't like this game.
Okay one more :)
Steve: Adara has no survival or self-preservation skills. I think she was born without them.
Bucky: That can't be true.
Steve: Watch this.
Steve: Hey, Adara, race you downstairs!
Adara: [Jumps out of a three-story window]
And I will leave you with this preview of the next chapter: Adara continues to not sleep