A/N: Hallo, sorry this update took me like FOREVER, it turns out trying to write two fanfictions as well as editing a novel isn't easy and I'm really bad at dividing my time sensibly. Plus, school started back up next week and it really took me by surprise and now I'm tired all the time. Hopefully, next week I should have my head back on straight and I'll be conscious enough of the time to continue updating this. Updates for White Whispers and Whiter Shadows will also continue, but will be slow in comparison to this as I do kinda want to focus on my original stuff at the same time (and homework, but who really cares about that?).
Anyway, another reason why this chapter is slow as it's a lot of talking but no action. In the next chapter, things will be back on a roll now that characters are caught up and updated with each other, and we may see the return of a certain super villain soon (clue: his name begins with M and he's played by a certain Jake Gyllenhaal…)
Also, who else has seen Little Women? It made me cry so hard…
"If all this leaves you behind
And everything starts to rewind
It doesn't mean anything
You won't remember what you see
It could take you a lifetime"
Adara woke up the next morning when sunlight came streaming through the windows, she must've left her curtains open last night. She felt heavy, rolling over in bed told her that her limbs would not recover for a few days, but the sharp pain she felt the night before was gone. She was much better rested too, tired but not cripplingly so.
Someone snored.
Adara jumped when she realised she wasn't the only one in the bed, a movement that alarmed Peter who had been softly snoring beside her, and caused him to jerk sideways and suddenly fall onto the floor with a loud thunk.
"Adara?" Called Steve from the sitting room.
"Uh, I'm fine," she said, looking down at the rather bewildered Peter. "Just fell out of bed."
"We need to talk later."
"Yeah, just give me five–"
Peter held up all his fingers from where he was lying on his back.
"Ten minutes," she corrected. "To get ready."
"Sure."
"Pete," she hissed. "What are you doing here?"
"You asked me to stay," he said, struggling to get up. "Last night. I just texted May to tell her I was fine and we both fell asleep."
She frowned, leaning back to sit on her knees, "did I ask you?"
"You were exhausted. You probably don't remember."
"We didn't…"
"No, no, we were way too tired."
"Good," she sighed, "that's good."
She rubbed her face, allowing her senses to come back to her, still feeling slightly drowsy from sleep. Peter hauled himself up to his feet and sat down next to her. His hair was messy, and he only had his boxers on, suit left crumpled on the floor. This bothered neither of them, they had seen each other in less before. He gripped her hand, rubbing it.
"You feeling any better?" He asked.
"As better as better can be," she sighed, using her other hand to trace the scar that ran down her face. "So, basically, I still feel like crap."
"Better than feeling like shit."
She laughed, "yeah, I guess it is."
She stood up and walked over to her wardrobe. Without needing to be told, he turned his back as she took off her bed clothes and sought out something to wear. It seemed to be a nice day, summer was still petering out in New York, and the cramped, claustrophobic city just made the hot weather hotter. Still, it wasn't boiling, so she only grabbed jeans and a t-shirt. Glancing in the mirror, she frowned at the state of her hair.
With a shimmer, her hair was suddenly dead straight. But it felt strange… It felt wrong.
"Dara?" She heard Peter question.
She shrugged as she picked up a brush, "it feels strange now." She glanced back at him, and shrugged. "Besides, I should use my natural hair more often." She finished with a tired smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Peter obviously wanted to question further, but didn't bother as she picked up the brush and ran it through her hair. He just put on his suit, leaving the mask off, before glancing at her again.
"You know you're not in this alone, right?" He said, "I mean, with the Green Goblin, Beck and the Faceless Man. You don't have to fight them on your own."
She looked at him, "even with both of us, we're still outnumbered."
He shrugged, "we've faced worse odds. We've had a building dropped on top of us and I've been hit by a train before. Survived. You've gotten your mind back after it was wiped. We made it out of that. We've dealt with worse, we can do this."
She smiled, a genuine one this time, and walked over to him.
"We do this together," he said seriously, "I can't be on the sidelines, Dara, you know that. I don't want you to be alone in this."
She put a hand on his cheek, "your identity is exposed, Pete, I just want you to be safe."
He did the same for her, "I want you to be safe too, Dara, but none of us can be with Beck or the Green Goblin and especially not the Faceless Man out there. People might think I'm some kind of villain… but I still need to do the right thing."
"You're a good person, Pete."
"So are you, Dara."
Resting their foreheads against each other, the two were inches away from kissing, when someone knocked on the door. They jumped back a feet from one another, Adara suddenly remembering Steve was here, and didn't know Peter was.
"Who are you talking to?" She heard Steve ask.
"I'm on the phone," she said quickly, "to Peter."
"Oh, right," he said, "well, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Sure," she said, forcing the casual tone while aggressively forcing Peter under the bed, and pulling the duvet down to cover him. "Come in."
Steve opened the door and Adara put on her 'I definitely have not been doing anything wrong' smile, slightly less convinced by her quick kick of the Spiderman mask under the bed. Steve thankfully didn't seem to notice.
"Are you feeling any better?"
She gave him a half-hearted shrug, sitting back on the bed. "Better than I did yesterday, my back still hurts but I don't feel like complete shit anymore."
"Language," he said, almost reflexively as he sat down beside her. "And your scar?"
She traced it with her finger again, she had a feeling that it may be a new habit. "It's still there. I honestly think it looks kind of cool."
He gave her look, which she responded with a sheepish grin.
"Adara," he sighed in the way he always did before a lecture. "We need to talk about yesterday."
"I know," she rubbed her forehead, "i was stupid, like really stupid. But–"
He paused her with a raise of his hand, "I know why you did it. I don't think anything I say can stop you from what you're doing. And you are doing the right thing, protecting your friends, helping Peter. And you know you're not safe, being honest, Adara, you live your life always in some kind of mortal danger." She nodded, this was true. "But last night, Adara, you really scared me. You were really hurt and not okay and… And I'm worried you're being more reckless with yourself."
"I'm Adara Thomas," she said, "Reckless is my middle name." Pause. "Actually, it's Martin, but I don't tell many people that."
"You weren't careful at all yesterday. And you got hurt."
She frowned, "I had to find out who the Faceless Man was, Steve."
"I know that," he said, "but you still put your life at risk. And it hardly ended well for you, no offence. And I'm scared I'm going to lose you."
She almost couldn't believe what he was saying, but his expression told her that he was being deadly serious. "You're not going to lose me, Steve, I promise."
When her mind flickered back to Beck's threat, the Soul Stone's premonition of death and the Faceless Man's warning of what he would do if she didn't join him, the words felt heavy on her tongue.
"You can't promise that," he gave her a stern look.
She shot back a cheeky grin, "I'll exercise some self-control, I can be careful if I try."
He looked doubtful.
She felt doubtful. She had lost self-control yesterday, she remembered letting out an animalistic scream as she had slashed and choked the life out of the fifteen men in the church. She remembered the red, blinding fury that had caused her whole body to tremble when she had been confronted by the Faceless Man. She hadn't held herself back, and she had paid the price. Despite how much she could try though, she realised that the anger she had felt still bubbled underneath the surface, barely held back. She couldn't be careful, she feared she could lose control of herself again.
But she didn't tell Steve this.
He sighed, "I can that's all I can ask of you."
She hugged him suddenly, which made him jump, but he quickly hugged her back.
"Thanks for not grounding me," she said, keeping her tone light.
"It's never worked in the past," he grumbled.
She pulled back, "I've got to go to Harry's for a bit. To give him an update."
He looked uncertain, "you couldn't even walk straight yesterday. Are you sure you don't want more time to heal?"
"I was just tired yesterday," she said, "and now I've gotten plenty of sleep." It was true, she had pretty much slept for twelve hours altogether, before and after MJ called her out. "And I've healed mostly, but I'm feeling well enough to walk to Harry's."
"It's not far," Steve considered. "But call me when you get there. To let me know you're okay."
She beamed, "thanks, Steve."
He stood up, rubbing his eyes and sighing, "I think you're going to be the death of me, Adara."
Her smile formed into a smirk, "that's the goal."
He ruffled her hair, and she quickly batted his hand away, glaring. He laughed, shaking his head and left her room to let her finish getting ready.
She stood up, glancing around for her mirror, looking for a pair of small hoop earrings that she wanted to put in.
"Dara," came a hiss from under the bed, "is it safe to come out now?"
"Oh, merde, sorry, I forgot about you, Pete," she said honestly. "Yeah, it's cool. Just keep your voice to a whisper."
He crawled out from underneath the bed, his hair even messier than it was before. Adara smiles at him and passed him her brush. He took it gratefully, she knew how much he hated messy hair. She also had hair gel in one of her drawers, from where he had left it when staying one of the nights before, which he also used for his hair.
"I'll head to Harry's," he said. "And meet you there."
She nodded while she put in her earrings, "be careful. It's daytime, it's easier for you to be spotted."
"Gotcha," he headed for her window. "I'll see you there."
She checked her phone to see a text from Harry, asking what time she would be here. She quickly pecked him on the cheek just before he put his mask on. "Yeah, I'll see you there."
With a final smile, he swung away. She paused, watching his figure grow more distance, and shut the window. It was a warm day, she should probably leave it open but she was feeling far too unsettled to do so, it didn't help that the fire escape just outside her window made for an easy entrance.
She put on the pair of sunglasses Tony had gave her, using them to push her hair out of her face and grabbed her bag and left with a quick "see you later" to Steve on her way out.
She got to Harry's about ten minutes later. The building still recognised her as a resident, so she didn't have to hang around and wait for Harry to let her in. Stepping in Oscorp tower was always slightly strange, especially now that she didn't live here any longer. It had been a sort of home for a long time, but now with Steve she was living in a home she munched preferred, despite the apartment being much smaller than the Osborn penthouse. While she had grown used to living here, it had never truly been home. It was such a large, cold place, where she had always been aware that she was never truly a member of the family. Then again, she hardly wanted to be an Osborn with the amount of problems within their family. Then again, she was hardly one to talk.
"Mr Osborn," she called out, putting on a ridiculously posh accent. "I have arrived."
Harry's head poked out from the kitchen, a piece of toast in his mouth. He took it out and did a dramatic bow.
"Mademoiselle Thomas," he said, in an awful accent, "Bienvenue."
"Your French accent is awful," she walked past him to the kitchen, opening the fridge like she was already home. She found leftover Pizza, and took out a slice. "Should I warm this?"
"I would," he nodded. "It's the kind of pizza you can only eat warm."
She nodded and shoved it into the microwave, "are MJ and Ned here?"
He nodded, continuing to eat his toast. "In my room, with Peter, talking to him about school I think. MJ and Ned stayed the night."
Adara frowned. This was strange. She was about to ask Harry about MJ's phone call, when Harry's eyes widened.
"Oh, cool scar," he remarked.
"Thank you," she nodded, taking the pizza slice out of the microwave when it beeped to signal it was done.
"You didn't have that yesterday," his awed gaze turned to one of caution. "What happened?"
"I'll explain it when we're together," she said. "I don't want to repeat myself. Let's go back to your room."
He nodded in agreement and finished his toast by unattractively shoving the rest of it in his mouth unattractively. She rolled her eyes, but just took a normal-sized bite out of the pizza, before frowning. In the typical style of microwaves, the pizza was barely heated.
In Harry's room, the other three friends were sitting in a circle. The shadow of a frown crossed Adara's face when she saw how engaged in their conversation they seemed to be, and the way they quickly stopped the moment she and Harry entered, but she chose to not mention it, she had too much on her mind already. She decided within herself to explain what was going with her first, just to stop the questions about her scar.
"Christ, Adara," said MJ, "you look like shit."
"Thanks, MJ."
"What happened to your face?" Asked Ned, slightly horrified.
"I'll explain," she couldn't help but suddenly feel self-conscious as she sat cross-legged on the floor. Peter sat beside her and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"Did you go to the address?" Asked MJ
She nodded, "I did. It was a church, I asked Karen to do a scan and she told me fifteen people were inside the building. I knew I had to take them down to get on." She paused, "well, I didn't have to, but I didn't just want to walk in there to face them all at once."
"So what did you do?" Asked MJ, her expression critical.
Adara didn't want to go into details of the pure rage and ruthless, brutal violence of yesterday, so instead she kept it brief. "I managed to take them all down, it took it while," the vagueness of it didn't seem to bother them, other than perhaps MJ. "But then there was another man. A priest."
"A priest?"
"It wasn't actually a priest." She took a sharp inhale of breath. "It's complicated and I can't really explain it but… when I first saw him, the priest, I just felt horrible, like I could be sick."
"Wow," quipped Harry, "he must've been ugly."
Adara didn't laugh, "he asked me to shift back into myself, so I did. But then I asked him what was wrong with him and he… He shifted back into himself as well."
A beat.
"Shifted?" Repeated MJ, not quite believing it. "Shifted? What…? Does that mean he's a shape-shifter? Like you?"
She nodded, "that's why I could feel what was wrong with him. It was like from that horror movie, when the bad guy carves of his victims face and wears it as a mask and it was really gross. It was like that, he was in a body that wasn't his. And he felt the same when he saw me."
"I don't understand," said Harry, "how is that possible? I thought you were the only one whose body could accept the chameleon particle."
"That's what I thought," she made sure to keep her face steely against their expressions of shock. "I need to do research. Research into the chameleon particle experiment and who was involved in it. Specifically look for anyone who is Irish, or born in Ireland."
"You're sure he's Irish?" MJ frowned, "you sure it wasn't like… like him pretending to be someone else."
"I would know if he was," she said, her voice hollow. "That's why he knew I was there at the car garage the other day even when I was completely shifted, he could see straight through me. And I can see straight through him. Which is why…" and it hurt her to say this, "I'm not sure if you guys can trust anyone anymore. Because you don't know if he's pretending to be someone else, someone you care about, or anyone you speak to."
"We would know," said Harry, "surely we would be able to tell."
"You'd think that," she said, "but the only person who could ever really see through me was Luka, and even he was fooled if I used contacts. You never suspect people, not if they look just like how you think they look. Just… Be careful who you trust."
"Even each other?" Asked Ned, his voice quiet.
There was a pause.
"We can trust each other," Adara said, looking at all of them.
At least right now they could, the thought of it filled her with dread. She was certain the Faceless Man wasn't present in this room, she would know. But, what if one day he was pretending to be any one of them? Adara has always kept her abilities as a shapeshifter unspoken as the Bluebell, the media just saw her as a kickass hero akin to the Black Widow or Hawkeye. Part of her was glad the media didn't know, how could they ever trust anyone again knowing one of them could be a shapeshifter? She was relieved that she could see through his powers, even if it did make her feel sick.
"Did he give you that scar?" Asked MJ.
She nodded, "I tried to fight him but I was too tired and injured. I didn't stand a chance."
"Can you heal it?"
Adara swallowed, "I can. But I won't."
There was a pause, Adara sometimes hated how critical and judging MJ's gaze tended to be. She wasn't thinking any bad of her, she knew that, but MJ liked to understand people and why they did what they did. Adara could see her doing it right now, trying to work her out like she was a particularly tricky puzzle.
"Fair enough," she said, after a moment.
"But what did the Faceless Man want?" Asked Harry, "why give you the address?"
"To prove a point?" She shrugged. "I don't know, he was vague. I think he wanted to see what I could do, like he was doing a test. This isn't the last we've seen of him, that's for sure."
She decisively didn't mention the Faceless Man's offer to join him, she knew she wouldn't, and they didn't need to know, even if that was the point of why he was so intrigued with her. There were still things she didn't understand, information she hoped to get to the bottom to if she discovered his identity. If that was possible.
"Fuck, dude," swore Harry. "So we're in the shit."
"That's a way of putting it," mused Adara before standing up. "But that's what happened to me last night. MJ–"
Before she could ask MJ how she knew about the breakin at the SHIELD building, the girl kicked her in the leg. Adara, already injured, didn't appreciate this at all, and turned to snap at MJ, but the girl gestured for her to shut up. For a moment, she couldn't think of anything to say, and stared at the girl in confusion.
Ned spoke loudly, too loudly, "so where do you think we can find out the identity of these guys?"
Adara tore her gaze away from MJ to look at Ned, "the chameleon particle experiments are a close kept secret. There's barely any information on it and who worked on them, SHIELD saw it as an embarrassing failure. And Hydra saw it as a secret to be kept. The only way we'll find out anything is through Luka's old files. I left some with you, Harry."
He nodded, "oh, yeah, they're on my desk."
Peter was already looking through them, gesturing for the other boys to help.
"We'll go through this," said Ned.
MJ nodded, "okay– Woah–"
She was suddenly cut off by Adara tugging her out the room rather violently, muttering something about using Karen for research. She pulled MJ into her old room, slamming the door shut behind her.
"What the fuck was that?" She asked, "I am not in the mood to be fucked around, MJ."
"I wasn't fucking you around," MJ's tone was sharp but understanding, "I just couldn't let you ask the question in front of Harry."
Adara's weariness was plain on her face, "I don't like keeping things from Harry. I don't like feeling like something has been kept from me, MJ. So you better explain now."
"We didn't tell you until we could be sure of what we knew," she said. "Ned and I, and Peter to a limited extent, have been looking into this. See, I heard Norman shouting at one of his scientists the other day while I was in the tower. And, I was spying and discovered some blueprints in his office…"
Adara didn't say a word through the whole explanation. But she gradually shrank back into herself in exhaustion, sitting back down on the bed and staring into space, leaning her forehead on her hand as MJ spoke. She didn't interrupt, she didn't ask questions, she trusted that MJ was telling her the truth, and she hated it.
When she was done explaining everything, silence descended on them. MJ felt rather nervous as she waited for the unresponsive Adara to say something. She sat back on her desk chair, and mindlessly twisted from side to side.
Finally, Adara spoke.
"I'm too tired for this."
"That can't be your response," said MJ, "I know you're tired, that's why Ned and I waited until we had all the evidence, it was best that you could be certain."
"I should've known," she pressed her face into her hands, "I should've fucking known."
"How could you have known?"
"Norman, he's always known I was the Bluebell before all this. He never cared, I barely ever spoke to him. But, about a week before we went on the Europe trip he called me into his office and asked about arranging a meeting between him and Spiderman. I told him Spiderman was busy."
MJ shot her a look, "did you tell Peter about this?"
"No, I was pissed at him at the time and then with Beck and his identity and the Faceless Man. I just lost track. Norman offered Peter to shelter here after his identity was exposed but I discouraged him because I had a feeling."
Adara shuddered, what if she hadn't told Peter to not stay with the Osbournes? It didn't matter, she had no need to focus on hypotheticals.
"Adara," MJ's tone was serious and blunt. "What do we do about Harry?"
She looked thoughtful, her expression grim.
"I can't keep this from him," she sighed. "The longer we hide this, the more likely something's going to go wrong. Tell Peter to get out of here, we can't use Oscorp tower as a meeting point anymore. We need to know where Beck is, and if he's in this building, but the only way we'll get full access is through Harry."
"Harry might not want to give us full access."
Adara realised this with a forlorn look, "you have evidence. We know the truth, you saw what Norman was doing and what he's done. He's my best friend, MJ, I'll be the one to tell him."
"Maybe he won't react too badly?" said MJ, a hint of hopefulness in her tone. "He never liked his dad."
"It's more complicated than that. Harry and Norman don't talk to each other, but they still care for each other. Whatever is going on with Norman… It's going to hurt, Harry. He's not a man whose doing this out of greed or lust for power. He's not Beck, he's not the Faceless Man."
"He's sick," MJ nodded in agreement, understanding what Adara was saying. "The blueprints point for him looking for a cure. He must be scared he's going to die."
Poor Harry, they both thought it, but didn't say it out loud.
"Tell Peter to get out of here," she said, "maybe back to Pepper's, or maybe to Ned's or someplace. See if you can find anything on Beck and I'll talk to Harry."
MJ nodded and left the room. Adara sat there for a few more seconds, it was just one piece of bad news after another for her, but at least she wasn't dealing with it completely alone. Still, it didn't make it any easier. Part of her was glad that MJ waited until now to tell her, if she had been dealing with this on top of investigating the Faceless Man, it would've been too much. Another part of her was that boiling rage rising up within her again, if MJ had told her sooner, Beck might've never been broken out at all.
A guilty part of her wished she didn't have to know about any of this. Sometimes Adara forgot she was only seventeen, sometimes she remembered and it only made the weight on her shoulders more painful.
She had to tell Harry, keeping it from him would only make things worse. He may not get on with his dad, but Norman was still his dad. Adara could only imagine how much this would hurt him.
Harry took the news badly.
Very badly.
It took Adara a good half an hour of fumbling around and trying to remember exactly everything MJ had told her, and relay that to Harry in between his huffs, sighs and angry shakes of his head. She knew why he was upset, but it was still a little annoying.
Peter had left, so had MJ and Ned after getting nowhere with looking through Luka's old files (the rest of which was at Adara's apartment, which she'd look through tonight) and also when Adara had told them that they were best to be heading home, considering it could he interpreted that they were just using Harry's hospitality to spy on his dad. And if he wasn't already pissed off enough, she didn't need anyone else to make it worse.
But it was still pretty bad.
"That's what MJ told me," she said. "And she showed me photos on her phone. Harry, I know how this sounds but–"
"But what, Adara?" He snapped suddenly, taking her by surprise. "You've just told me that my dad is… is a supervillain who flies around on a hoverboard and actively broke out the man who tried to kill me with drones in London from jail. So, what are you going to say?"
It was almost instinctual for Adara to snap back. She didn't like being yelled at, she hated it, it reminded her too much of her upbringing. Even Steve didn't snap or yell at her anymore, as she would only snap and yell back (even if she was in the wrong), he had taken to just lecturing her in a calm, collected tone. And Natasha had rarely ever yelled, her normal voice carried all the command that was necessary. If she was yelling, it was because she was arguing, and arguing never got her anywhere.
And she did not want to argue with Harry, not right now, but she twitched slightly at his tone, feeling that same annoyance within her slowly build a little more.
"I don't think your dad's a supervillain, Harry," she said, placating.
"You just think he's working with them?" He narrowed his eyes at her, arms folded over his chest.
"I think he's sick, Harry."
He laughed, a disbelieving bark of laughter that cut straight through her core.
He stood up, "I'm getting some air."
Do not walk away from this, her mind silently growled at him. And it was right.
When he left the room and walked to the elevator, Adara followed to attempt to reason with him.
"I don't mean sick in the head, Harry," she said. "Nor do I mean sick in a bad way. I meant…" of all the times for her English to leave her now! "Hospital sick…"
He seemed to realise her struggling, "ill?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I think he's ill or something like that, he's looking for a cure. That's why he wants enhanced blood, that's why he wants Peter's blood."
The elevator came, they both got in. The small, confined space only upped the tension.
"Then maybe Peter should give him his blood."
"We both know he can't do that," she said. "Look at what happens when someone messes with enhanced blood. The other winter soldiers, Bruce Banner, need I go on? But obviously Norman seems to think he needs it so he's working with the people who can get him it."
"Listen, Adara," he said, shaking his head. "I know what you think or what MJ and Ned have told you after spying, but this must be a trick of some kind. My father is a shitty dad but he's not a shitty person. He would never work with Beck."
"But–"
"He's not evil!"
His yell silenced them both for a few seconds, Adara was uncomfortably trying to keep down the rage that was bubbling within herself again.
A beep indicated the elevator had reached the bottom floor, and Harry walked out at a brisk pace, through the reception of the entrance, ignoring anyone familiar who attempted to greet him. Adara followed, speed-walking to keep up.
"I'm not saying he's evil, Harry," she said. "I'm saying he's in with the wrong people. The evidence shows he's doing this that he's…" She couldn't quite bring herself to say that he was the Green Goblin, maybe due to disbelief on her own part.
"Let's say the evidence 'prove' this," his tone was condescending as he pushed open the door to the street outside. It was busy, especially for the nice weather and it being a Saturday afternoon. "Let's consider this, how do we not know he's being blamed? That this wasn't one of his scientists? Or your Faceless Man?"
"MJ said she saw him interacting with someone she reckoned was the Faceless Man. They saw Norman."
"Bullshit," he snapped, "bullshit."
She grabbed his arm and stopped him in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a few people walking past them to grumble in annoyance. She looked right at him, eyes firing, showing her barely restrained anger and frustration, but he didn't seem to notice it due to his own fury and confusion.
"I believe them," she said, "I believe Norman Osborn, your father, is the Green Goblin. Don't you trust me?"
He looked straight at her. Harry, her best friend.
And then he looked away.
"My dad loves me," he said, "he wouldn't do this."
She tipped her head to the side, feeling sympathy now over the rage. "Harry, my dad loved me too but–"
Suddenly he wrenched her arm from her grasp.
"Do not compare your father to mine."
Even if he had a point, something about what he said and the way he said it hurt so badly that she physically flinched back. And then her stomach curled, sympathy dissolving back into anger. She was barely able to hold herself back as he walked away, briskly walking down the street.
She wanted to break something.
She stood there for a few more seconds, unable to move. And then someone walked into her.
"Oi," she muttered, "watch it."
"You watch it," muttered the man, who looked like he was on his way to an important meeting.
Adara glared at him as he moved on his way, he had walked into her shoulder, jolting it back in a way that caused the bruises on her back to become painful again. Sighing, in anger and defeat, she glanced across the road.
He was there.
Now she was frozen in shock, eyes wide as she saw the Faceless Man sitting at a table outside a pub just across the road from Oscorp Tower. He was himself, which was why her stomach didn't twist or curl when she saw him, though he had a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He smiled and gave a nod of acknowledgement, raising his drink to her.
Her surprise lasted a couple of seconds before she steeled herself up and shot a glare in his direction. A trick then drove down the road, pausing at a set of traffic lights, blocking her view.
She grumbled out loud in annoyance, and walked a little to the side to peer around it. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but greeting two men who had sat down across from him. They were dressed in full suits, despite the weather, whereas the Faceless Man was simply wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He sat down and took another sip of his drink, he must be in a business meeting of some kind. Did he usually do these meetings as himself? It seemed to defeat the point of being a shapeshifter. Then again, this was coming from her.
She crossed the road where there was a break in the traffic and let her eyes slide over to where he was. The pub was an average one, nothing remarkable, playing the sports. Even at this time of day (and maybe due to the hot weather) people were sitting inside and out, drinking cool beer. The outside seating area spilled onto the sidewalk, but didn't block it completely. There were a lot of restaurants, cafes, shops and other commercial buildings down this road, it was a tourist hotspot for Queens. Not to mention, Oscorp tower was just another beacon for visitors to look out and tour around.
It was strange now to think what was really going on underneath the glamor of the tower. Was Beck being housed or hidden in that basement? Or was he being hidden somewhere else.
"Karen," muttered Adara, pushing her sunglasses off her head and over her eyes. "Can you zoom me in on the three men outside the pub."
The view on her sunglasses shifted so she was looking close at them, like she was only standing a few feet away.
"Can you get me audio, Karen?"
She could, though it wasn't the highest quality in the general chatter of the pub, but she could still hear their conversation.
"–You make us these promises," said one of the men, who was very clearly from Brooklyn. "And, I'll admit, it all sounds dandy and fine, but how do we know that this Faceless Man can carry it out."
So they didn't know he was the actual Faceless Man. Interesting. She tapped her glasses to zoom out, but retained listening in on the audio. She walked over to a street vendor and ordered a slushie, pretending to be minding her own business as she continued to listen in.
"You and I both know the extent of this organisation," he said, in his Irish accent, "the Faceless Man runs this city, more so than you think. And moves are being made to put everything into position, to bring this network more influence than before."
The other man seemed completely convinced by this, and spoke in a Texan accent. "What kind of moves?"
"Nothing I'm privy of knowing," the Faceless Man said with a smirk. "I'm simply another member of this organisation."
Liar, she thought. But this was how he retained influenced, through mystery and pretending to be other people acting on behalf of the Faceless Man, to keep up the masquerade of secrecy. How many people within the organisation were actual people, and how many people were who the Faceless Man pretended to be?
"Well, then how can we trust you if you don't know?" Asked Brooklyn Boy.
"Two days from now," he said. "That's all. The Cicero Palace in Manhattan, nine o'clock in the evening."
"And we'll find out what we need to know?"
"You will," he promised that with a smug, knowing smirk.
Adara grabbed her slushie and paid in the change she had in her pocket. Tapping for Karen to cut the audio as she observer, from the corner of her eye, the two men standing up and leaving. A brief meeting, obviously it's only significance was to inform them of that location and date of some kind of proper meeting? A gathering? Adara would have to figure out what to do with that information later.
For now, she glanced back over at the Faceless Man, who leant back in the chair he was sitting on and indicating to the one across from him. She thought about it for only a moment, before deciding to go over and sit. It was a public space, and Adara was too curious to walk the other way.
Besides, the rage within her had simmered away to curiosity. She sat down across from him, looking at him from over her drink.
"Adara," he greeted.
"You know," she said. "I could greet you properly if you tell me your name."
He laughed, "you'll have fun finding that out yourself. I imagine you're already trying to get to the bottom of it. You like a mystery to solve, Adara, that's why you followed all the leads you thought that would lead to me. That's why you're sitting across from me right now."
"I want to stop you from doing whatever your planning on doing."
"Huh, sure," he took another swig of his drink. "And you're stopping me by arguing with your friend in the middle of the street and then buying a slushie?"
He didn't know she had secretly been listening on him. Good.
She shrugged, "do you usually conduct meetings as yourself?"
He gave her a wry smile, noting the way she very obviously changed the subject. "Sometimes it's tiring to pretend to be other people, I'm sure you understand that. As far as they know, I'm just someone involved with the organisation."
"Does anyone know who you really are?"
"There are a few."
"Norman Osborn?"
He laughed but shook his head, "no."
"Beck?"
He paused, and then answered, "perhaps. But do you know who actually knows who I am? Or, should I say knew who I am."
She blinked at his wording, "who?"
"Your father."
She swallowed but didn't allow how thrown off she had been by his answer. "He left files, he never made it obvious that he did."
"He never would've," he shrugged. "He didn't want Hydra to know about me, if they did they might think there were more out there with the Chameleon Particle running through their blood. It might mean they had no more use for you. For some reason, he was trying to keep you alive, but only in circumstances he could control exactly."
Adara didn't say anything, but thought about his words.
"I wouldn't worry about it too much, your father was- to put it lightly- a fucked up dude," his accent was clearer when he swore. "Trying to analyse him after his death is pointless."
"I tried to do that while he was alive," she muttered. "He was fucked up, that's all I need to know. But I don't know anything about you."
"You don't need to, being honest," he shrugged. "You'll try anyway, I know you will. However, my offer still stands, Adara, will you join me?"
His eyes flickered over to her scar, but he did not mention it, though she noted the smirk growing on his face as he looked at it.
"Of course, I won't," she said scornfully.
He nodded, his only emotion was acceptance of kind, "you need more time, I understand."
"That's not what I–"
He silenced her with a lazy wave of his hands. She shut up, but didn't appreciate it, her eyes narrowed and she raised her chin as she glared at him.
"You need more time," he said. "I wasn't being light when I gave you this offer, Adara. You take it or you don't, and you won't like the consequences if you don't. And you definitely won't like the consequences if you keep interfering. I'm aware that some of your friends have figured out what Mr Osborn is up to, and that he's the one who broke out Beck. I'm sure you're also aware that they are acting under my orders. But both of them have a bone to pick with a certain partner of yours, I'm the only one keeping them from going full-out in their revenge."
"You've already ruined his life," her voice was low, "you exposed his identity."
"And I can expose yours too, Bluebell," his tone had turned to heavy and threatening. "And I can do worse. You would be wise to consider my offer, and you would be wiser to stop looking into things you shouldn't."
"Where's Beck?"
"What did I just say?"
"Why get Norman involved? Don't you have enough money?"
"What did I just say?"
"I'll get to the bottom of this," she leant across the table, her voice in a low hiss. "I'll end whatever you have planning."
He considered her for a moment, squaring her jaw before grabbing her chin and pulling her rather violently close to his face without having to lean across the table himself.
"You won't get the chance," he whispered to her.
He let her go, shoving her a little so she clattered back, nearly knocking a few empty glasses off the table. He stood up, dusting himself off and eyeing her, his rather frustrated expression morphing back into a smirk.
"Consider my offer, Adara Thomas," he nodded, "I'll be seeing you soon."
He walked away like nothing happened, Adara watched him go, and when he was out of sight, she smacked the glass of the table and let it shatter to the floor. Several of the other customers looked up in surprise and shook their heads at the "ruckus" she was causing. She didn't bother clearing it up, she stood up and stomped away, not even looking back at Oscorp tower.
Screw Norman. Screw Beck. Screw Harry and Oscorp and all of this. And especially screw the Faceless Man.
Except she couldn't. She had to get to the bottom of all of this.
Yesterday she had gotten a scar and more injuries, but at least she had gotten answers of sorts. Today she had got nothing but a headache and building anger issues. Texts on her phone from MJ, Ned and Peter were asking how it went with Harry. She ignored them, and just went home.
A/N: I'm not OVERLY happy with this chapter but oh well, some things can't be helped. Honesty this story is moving slower than I expect, we can have anywhere between ten and twenty chapters left? I'm not sure, I reckon the epilogue will be divided over two chapters at least, which I'm very excited to write. I'm excited to write everything to be honest, I just kind of enjoy putting my characters in gradually worse and worse situations. Anyway, incorrect quotes:
Adara: [Taps table]
Harry: [Taps table back]
Ned: What are they doing?
Peter: Talking in morse code.
Adara: [Taps table aggressively]
Harry, slamming his hands on the table: YOU TAKE THAT BACK!
And another one
Peter: Why do you go to sleep so late?
Adara, looking off into the distance: There's no rest for the wicked.
Peter:
Adara:
Steve: Cat videos. She stays up late to watch cat videos.
Annnnnd another
Adara: If we are in a relationship, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.
Peter: When I come strutting in with your leggings on, I don't wanna hear shit.
Okay, one more
Adara: I'm a wanted woman.
The Faceless Man: That's impossible, you weren't even a wanted child.
Anyway, please leave a review and I'll update at some point… in the near future… probably… who knows?