7 - Red Demon
April 19, 2008
The Bronx, New York City
1:26 AM
The street was silent, but for the rain thundering down on the roof of their run-down bug. The sickly green paint - peeling off the doors and roof - stood out against the black sky and concrete buildings. Somewhere nearby, the dozens of species in the Bronx zoo would be holed up in their enclosures, doing their best to escape the shitty weather. Beside him, John sat in the driver's seat, tapping his thumb against the wheel. Some pop star or other crooned through the radio. Parker glanced up at the archaic apartment building above. He frowned, turning to his cousin.
"You sure this is the place?" He demanded. On the phone, John had sounded so sure of himself. It was the only reason he'd agreed to go with him. Now, looking at the place, he was sure his cousin had been led on. Parker couldn't afford ifs or maybes. With a young daughter and seriously ill mother to support, he needed the cash. He needed guarantees.
John nodded.
"This is the place he mentioned. Don't worry so much P, this guy's good for it. High up in the Russians' organisation. He's got connections. ' Most valuable haul you'll ever take. You'll never want for anything again.' those were his exact words". Parker sighed.
"And you don't find it strange he told you about all this instead of going for it himself? The Russians have never been particularly generous with their scores". John shrugged.
"Rumour has it they've taken up with some new guy on the block. Dangerous fella. Doesn't play off the same rulebook as anyone else in New York. Does things his own way. Makes strange calls. Maybe this is just another one of those? Besides, they've been running fewer operations ever since you-know-who turned up."
He nodded, even as he rolled his eyes. Where John got half his information, Parker could never guess. Though it was usually good. So long as they were in and out before anyone was onto them, he didn't much care. They climbed out of the car, each closing their doors. John lit a cigarette. Parker snatched it out of his mouth, snuffing it out on his pants leg and shoving it in his pocket. He glared at his cousin.
"You better not have been planning on leaving that here. Idiot". His cousin flushed, though he said nothing, instead bowing his head. Parker stepped up to the front door, pushing it open and gesturing for his cousin to follow. They crept up the stairs, straight to the top floor. John pointed to the fifth door on the right. Parker nodded, moving along the hardwood as slowly as he could. He slid his hands into his pocket, removing his sable rubber gloves. Pulling them on, he knelt near the keyhole, and set to work picking the lock.
–AoS–
He yawned as he stepped off the elevator, a burst of magic removing his key as he went. No reason to fumble around in his pockets after dark. He made his way towards the door to his apartment at the end of the hall. Soon, he hoped, he would be done with his work in New York and there would be no more need for Arthur McNorman. Then, he could go home. Until then, keeping up appearances would be necessary.
He slid the key into the lock, and pushed the door open. Walking into the apartment, he tossed his keys into the bowl. Turning to the couch in the centre of the room, he rolled his eyes. It had been some time since he'd seen the redhead perched on the sofa, wearing a white gown far too short for her. He walked past her to the kitchen. Pouring a bourbon, he made his way back to the living room.
"You're late" she spoke softly, though he could hear her perfectly well in the silence of the apartment. He nodded, peering at her over the lip of the glass.
"And you still let yourself in" he swirled his drink. She shrugged, unapologetic.
"You were the one who contacted me, Doom. Not the other way around". Mischievous Grey-blue met cold blue. She smirked at him, standing slowly off the couch. She made her way over, running a finger down the side of his face. He glared at her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from him.
"Besides," she continued, unflappable as ever. "I was curious when I discovered you were in the city. I assumed we would be meeting in that gaudy eye-sore you call a castle. A teacher, Victor, really?" He sneered at her.
"My business is my own". She shrugged.
"You're right. If I really wanted to, I'd already know. But you already knew that. That's why you called me."
He made his way to the nearby filing cabinet, moving it aside. He glanced over his shoulder, gazing at her meaningfully. She snorted, turning her back as he opened the wall safe to retrieve the file. He closed the safe once more, returned the cabinet to its place. Turning around, he tossed the file on the glass tabletop, tapping his fingers on the wooden frame. She turned, retrieving it before viewing the contents.
She nodded, frowning slightly. "You never said there were kids involved". She glanced up at him. There was an indecipherable look in her eyes. Victor laughed. The sound was high and mocking. She winced.
"You've never been bothered with morality before today".
"And I'm still not. But one of these is the commissioner's kid. My people are already third class citizens at best as it is. If the wrong people ever found out -"
"It's a good thing you won't be caught then". Victor downed the rest of his drink, and placed the empty glass on the table. She nodded.
"I need payment now."
He nodded, removing a checkbook from his pocket. "I suspected as such. The usual?" She nodded. He made out the check, tore it off the book, and handed it to her. She nodded her thanks, sliding it neatly into her purse.
"I'm sure you can show yourself out. I'm going to sleep." He made his way to the bedroom.
"Victor," she called. Doom rolled his eyes. He considered ignoring her, but thought better of it.
"What?" He demanded sharply, not bothering to turn to face her.
"Why do you want these kids anyway?"
"As I said Raven, my business is my own. Follow them both. Keep an eye on the boy. Contact me if anything unusual happens around him".
"Define unusual".
"You'll know if you see it".
"Good night".
"Good evening, Raven. Show yourself out".
–AoS–
The door gave way at his push. John patted him on the shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance. Parker glared at his cousin as he helped him up. They made their way into the apartment, both glancing quickly around for company. John opened the sports bag he had retrieved from the car. He tossed Parker a flashlight, who nodded his thanks. Parker switched it on, scanning the room. He frowned. For supposedly the best score he'd ever get, the place was relatively bare.
There was no sign of anyone having lived here for years. He strode silently further into the room. Cobwebs hung from every wall. Dust clung to the furniture. There was no television, only an antique phonograph. Despite his frustration, he pointed it out to his cousin.
"Check if that works. Might be worth something". Whatever he could get. He silently reminded himself to bury his disappointment. Whatever they found, or didn't find, was not John's fault. John nodded, gesturing to a closed door near the back of the room. Parker rolled his eyes, making his way over. He placed a hand on the metal handle, only to tear his fingers back at the burning sensation he felt. He swore, dropping the flashlight as he tore his glove off, shoving his burnt finger into his mouth. John spun around, torch raised and ready for anything. He frowned, watching Parker.
"What the hell is going on?" His cousin hissed, glaring. Parker glared back gesturing wildly towards the door.
"This thing," he snarled. "It burnt my bastard hand!" John frowned, clearly doubtful. Parker rolled his eyes.
"Don't believe me? Try it". John stared at him for several moments before shrugging and making his way over. Parker watched expectantly as his cousin reached his hand out. John placed a hand on the door, gripping it tightly. A moment later, he retracted it, as though stung.
The cousins gazed at one another, both intrigued. John grinned at him. "D'you think it could be some sort of security setup?"
"Doubt it".
"Let's break it".
The cousins both took a few steps back. Parker took a deep breath. Suddenly, watching that barred door, he felt a sudden sense of foreboding. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. A cold chill came over him, and he felt the juvenile need to chatter his teeth. He glanced at his cousin, hesitating.
"Are you sure about this?"
"No. But you need that money". Parker nodded, reminding himself of why he was here. Why John had come with him. Mom. And Breanne.
"True".
.
They charged the door.
–AoS–
Gwen awoke with a yawn. She stretched her arms and arched her back. The sleeping bag ruffled as she slowly inched her way out. She stood, glancing at the clock on the wall. 1:35. Too early to be up. She'd grab a drink and go back to bed. She glanced around the room, grinning at the sight that met her eyes.
Nate, safely cocooned within his own sleeping bag. He was curled up almost in a ball, legs tucked tightly against his chest. His arms were tightly wound around him. She smiled as she silently stepped over him, creeping over to the fridge. She hoped he wouldn't hold their earlier fight against her. It would be lonely without her best and only friend. Maybe she needed to be less forceful on the issue of sentinel.
She poured the water, and glanced up at the sound of a door opening. Mr Abrahams came walking down stairs from his and doctor Thomas's room. He was wearing a pair of jeans, boots and a thin black sweater. He stopped on the bottom of the stairs when he spotted her in the kitchen.
"Hi Gwen," he murmured, grabbing his keys off the rack. She blinked, taking a sip of her cup as she smiled at him and yawned.
"Hey Mr Abrahams. Are you going somewhere?" He needed, smiling and rubbing the back of his head.
"Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I'm going to drive down to the beach for a jog. Want anything special picked up for breakfast this morning?" Gwen shook her head. She finished her drinking, placing the cup in the sink. Her friend's father nodded, heading for the garage door. She returned to her sleeping bag, laying down and gazing up at the ceiling. The world was getting a lot stranger than she'd ever remembered it being, she mused.
–AoS-
The door burst open on their third attempt. They staggered into the room, illuminated only by their flashlights. Parker glanced around the ice-cold room, stunned by what he saw. They were stood in a room that looked out of the 1800s. In the center of the room stood an antique hardwood table, covered by a purple silk tablecloth. Candles dotted the entire room. Around the table stood a circle of chairs. John frowned.
"Someone must have used this room for seances, back in the day" he muttered. John nodded, unable to speak as he gazed in awe at all the priceless antiques around them. There had to be easily a hundred grand in this room alone. Whoever his cousin's contacts had been, they'd sure as hell come through! Parker's breath hitched in his throat as his eyes fell on the table. He blinked, rubbing his eyes. It was still there. How had he not seen it before?
A single figure sat hunched in one of the chairs, unmoving. Parker instinctively took a step back towards the door, desperate to escape. He gripped his cousin by the shoulder, tugging on his jacket sleeve.
"John", he hissed. Let's get out of here!" The sense of foreboding grew more urgent as he stared at the figure hunched over the seance table, seemingly peering into the tarot cards in front of it. John shook his head, glaring at him. He made his way further into the room, seemingly ignoring the stranger at the table. Parker watched him silently, horrified yet somehow unable to shout a warning. John turned and grinned at him. He was laughing long and hard, heedless of anyone listening.
"Parker" he grinned, "look around you! Do you have any idea how much this is worth?! We've hit the jackpot here, mate. Why on god's earth would you want to leave?" There was a low, angry hiss at John's words. Parker glanced uneasily at the thing at the table. He pointed wildly at it.
"That thing doesn't bother you? At all?" He demanded, waving the torch frantically. John frowned, turning where he was pointing.
"What?" He asked, "some old linens? What's that going to do?" Parker stared at him, waiting for the gotcha. None came. He seized his cousin by the shoulders, turning him to face the seat.
"There's someone sitting there, John!" He snapped, pushing his cousin forwards. John laughed once more, as he reached out for the thing on the Chair. Parker shouted a warning, only for it to lift off the chair as John grabbed it. He blinked, staring in shock. His cousin turned to him, holding aloft a crimson cloak. Parker blinked once more, gaze snapping back to the chair. Sat on the seat were a pair of red boots, but nothing else. He breathed hard, staring at the thing in John's grip hard, eyes wide.
John patted him on the shoulder. "Nothing there, P. Think the nerves may have gotten to you in the dark, mate." He grinned, shoving Parker on the back. Parker grinned uneasily, nodding. John's right, he assured himself. There's no way I saw what I thought. I'm just worried about mom and Breanne, that's all. He turned to his cousin.
"Yeah," he said, laughing half-heartedly, "that must have been that. Sorry to freak out on ya". John shrugged goodnaturedly.
"No worries. Help me load this stuff up, yeah?" Parker nodded. John tossed the cloak onto the floor, and made his way over to a bookshelf cluttered with artefacts. Parker made his way to the other side of the room to search, desperately trying to push the dread from his mind.
Parker, a soft voice rattled in the night, startling him. He spun around, though no one was there.
–AoS–
April 19th, 2008
Canadian Security Intelligence Service Base, outskirts of Montreal
3:50 AM
He stepped out of the unmarked car outside a nondescript grey building. The flight from New York to Montreal, whilst surprisingly soothing, had not given him enough time to get up to speed. He'd slept through most of it. Three officers hurried towards him, each armed. They saluted, which he returned. The leader gestured for him to follow. The four fell into step, heading towards the building. His escort opened the door, allowing him to step inside first.
A severe looking black woman with short brown hair and unassuming black eyes made her way towards him. She wore a black suit jacket, white shirt, and black skirt with simple dress shoes. He saluted as she approached though she waved him off.
"At ease, agent Abrahams. You're ASIS, not one of mine. You're just here for information." Steve nodded, glancing around at the building they were standing in. There were security cameras everywhere. Alarms all along the hall. Each of the men and women in the hall, including him, were armed. He had seen the telltale bulge of a concealed holster on each of their hips. It would take time, but if he needed to, he knew he could break their security. The director gestured down the hall. He followed her. The only sounds were his breathing, her own, and the click of their shoes against the polished floors.
" I imagine you're wondering why you're here." She stated simply. He nodded.
"My handler didn't say much on the phone. Just that I needed to get here. Didi wasn't happy." She nodded, frowning slightly at the reminder his wife knew what he did for a living.
"Well, there are a few things. We asked for you personally. Natasha Romanoff speaks highly". Steve nodded. It had been years since he'd last seen the other agent. He'd heard she'd signed on with SHIELD. Hopefully she was doing well.
"How is she?" The woman glanced at him curiously.
"As well as one can be, in this business". He nodded. The director flashed her ID, and the door opened for them. She led him through a labyrinth of tunnels. They stopped in front of a steel vault.
"This is what your government wanted you here to see," she told him, "it's the most secret, secure room in Canada. Quite possibly all of North America." He frowned. She stepped forward, using the retinal scanner on the wall, and pricking her finger. A drop of blood and scan of her uninjured hand later, and the door to the vault slowly ground open. The sight that met his eyes stunned him.
Row upon row of sealed vials, each containing a clear liquid, no bigger than his thumb. There had to be thousands, if not millions. He turned to stare at her.
"What is this?" He breathed.
"Our greatest weapon, and deepest secret". He raised an eyebrow. She gestured for him to step out of the vault, and snapped her fingers. The vault door slung closed, locking in place once more. They stood in the dimly lit hall, gazing at one another.
"You are familiar with Operation Rebirth?"
"Obviously. Every child alive knows about it." She nodded, ignoring his tone.
"After the war, what was left of Operation Rebirth was combined with a special branch of the Canadian government, one you don't have clearance to know the name of. They were focused on reproducing Erskine's formula. At first. Then it became about improving on the original. Human hubris at its finest."
"That room is the sum of their efforts. At least all that we've been able to recover. As far as we know, there's none out there, and anyone involved in the creation of the original is dead. We've synthesised it to develop more, but so far I've managed to persuade them to leave it on ice. We don't want this stuff getting into the wrong hands. The last thing we need is some terrorist using it. Or, god forbid, the US military."
"So you're telling me you've successfully cracked Erskine's formula. You can make supersoldiers?" She shook her head.
"No. I'm telling you we can make a lot more than that. It's never been tested, but a single vial of that serum would make whoever recieved it a lot more powerful than your bog standard Supersoldier". Steve nodded.
"And you're worried someone could steal it". She shook her head.
"No. Our concern is that someone already has. Or at least that some scientist made the serum without our knowledge and it got out. That is what your government and mine are concerned with. We need to confirm or deny our suspicions. That is where you come in." She gestured for him to follow her.
"We are suspicious of Sentinel. Several of my colleagues believe he may have gained his powers from our 'super soldier' serum. We need you to find out for sure. Discover the truth, and report back what you learn. Once we know, we can decide how to proceed". Steve frowned.
"Look," he replied "I'm hardly Sentinel's biggest fan. He's reckless, and interferes in situations where he has no business too. Yet he doesn't seem like a thief to me". Director stone stared at him.
"Am I to understand you are refusing to do your job?" She asked. Steve shook his head.
"Of course not. I'm just warning you not to expect much. I think we're barking up the wrong tree on this one". She shrugged.
"Go find out. That's your job, not mine".
–AoS–
They had just finished packing the last of the artefacts into their bags. John tossed his own outside the room, and stretched, grinning. Parker shook his head slightly to clear it. He dropped into an empty seat at the table, running a hand through his hair. In the hours they had spent clearing out the room, his frayed nerves had not improved. If anything, he only now felt worse. John glanced at him sitting in the seat, and grabbed both bags.
"Sit tight man" his cousin stated, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to take these down to the car. You take a break. Try to calm down a bit".
"Thanks". He rubbed his face, breathing deeply. He rested his forehead against the cold glass tabletop. His breath came in short ragged gasps. Sitting there in that dark lonely room, Parker felt the need to vomit.
" Are you sure about that?" Parker leaped from his seat, ripping his hunting knife from his pocket. He cast a wild gaze around the apartment, rushing to the connecting door. It slammed shut. He shoved his weight against it. The frame refused to budge. He screamed himself hoarse, begging for his cousin's aid. No response came.
"Whu-who said that?" He demanded, teeth chattering as he staggered around the room, feeling his way through the darkness. He gripped the knife tightly in front of him.
"I warn you, I'm armed!"
The response was cruel, bone chilling laughter. The high pitched sound seemed to Parker to pierce his very soul. The candles in the room lit up all at once, bathing it in a warm, sickly glow. Parker gazed fearfully around the room, withdrawing slowly to the door. The laughter continued, grating on his nerves. The voice returned, cold as ever.
" Are you really going to leave me, Parker? Wouldn't you like to know what I could give you?" Parker shook his head, still making his way slowly towards the door.
"No Thanks. I've got enough". The door slammed shut behind him, barring his way out. He shivered, tugging on the door desperately.
" I have seen your soul, Robbins. You will always want more . Your greed is without end". Dark laughter filled the apartment. Parker felt his heart hammering against his chest. He gulped, hyperventilating as he gripped his chest.
"How do you know my name?"
" I know all, and see all. And I have watched you since you entered my prison. You are of interest to me. A mother, dying slowly, destroyed from the inside out. A wife desperate for a husband who deserves her love. And a young child, in need of a father who can support her. I can help you, Parker."
"I'm not sure I need your help" he whispered.
"Yes, you do. You forget, I have seen your every thought. You know as well as I, your deepest secret. You crave power. You have since the boys at the school. The power to defend yourself. To protect that which you love. And to improve your pathetic existence, the endless misery you call your lot in life".
White hot rage bubbled up within him. He remembered the torment of the others. The mocking for his hand-me-downs. The rocks thrown by the older boys on his way home to the small apartment he had shared with his parents. The nights his father came home drunk, swearing at Parker and his mother. Complaining about their lifestyle. Blaming them for it. He remembered vowing to lift himself out of the gutter. Failing in his classes, dropping out. His first crimes, mostly petty theft.
He fell to his knees, weeping openly. For the first time since his childhood, he cared nothing for who witnessed his display of emotion. Dimly, he heard John honking the horn of the bug. He paid his impatient cousin no heed. Breanne, his mother, and Sara flashed through his mind. He raised his head slowly, addressing the unseen entity.
"What do you want of me?"
" My request is simple. Free me from this place, bond yourself with me. Become my host, and take my power as your own. In return, I will use you for my own vengeance. Together, Parker Robbins, we will both achieve justice against those who have wronged us. You may use my power to improve your standing in life, and that of your loved ones. When the time comes, I shall use your body as my host to confront the one who destroyed my previous host and confined me to this wretched existence. So, do we have an accord, mortal?"
Parker nodded.
" Speak the words" the unseen stranger hissed.
"I accept your bargain".
The red boots sat on the chair materialised on his feet. The crimson cloak John had earlier tossed on the seat, only for it to fall unheeded to the floor, floated into the air, as though propelled by an invisible body. It slowly slunk its way towards him, finally fastening itself to his shoulders. He pulled the hood over his head, and stood slowly to his fall height. Turning to the door, with voices whispering silently in his mind, he instinctively raised his hand, watching as a crimson energy field surrounded the wall, disintegrating it. Joy filled him. Faintly, he wondered if it were his own, or something else's. Stepping over the splintered shards of timber, he shoved the misgiving aside.
–AoS–
He climbed into the driver's seat, switching on his hands free headset. He found the contact he was looking for, and hit the call button.
"Yullo. Go for the master marksman".
"Barton, it's me. Abrahams".
"Hey man. What's up?"
"Are you free to meet me in a few hours? I need to talk to you. Got some intel to trade".
"Sure pal. I'll meet you in the usual place?"
"Yep." He ended the call, pulling out of the parking lot. He frowned as he drove south. The prospect of anyone having a potential army of super soldiers was a nightmare to consider. If that was what Sentinel was, it answered a lot of questions. The idea of potentially going against an enemy that powerful did not sit easy with him, yet he would do his duty as ever. More importantly, he was no longer fighting for himself, for principles, nor even for his country. He had a family to protect now. People he loved, and who in turn loved him. People he would die for.
–AoS–
He descended to the bottom floor of the apartment building, stepping out of the elevator. Wait, whispered the voice in his head. Parker stopped, watching as two police cars pulled to a halt behind and beside his cousin's bug. Pull up your hood. Hold your breath. He hoisted the hood over his curly brown hair, and took a deep breath. He stood motionless, watching as two officers approached the car. One knelt down so he was at eye level with his cousin, and began speaking to him. From his vantage point, Parker could not make out what they were saying. Two more walked into the apartment building.
Remain calm. Do not take a breath.
They walked past him, one ordering the other to check upstairs as she patrolled the ground floor. He heard the chime as the other man entered the elevator. The doors slammed close with a ding. He felt a vague sense of amusement welling up inside him, even as he gazed around in confusion. Could they not see him? If so, why? Because he was holding his breath?
Well done, idiot. Now, remove her.
He moved up behind the female officer, gripping his dagger tightly. She raised her head, tossing a piece of paperwork on the service desk. He wrapped an arm around her neck, dragging his blade across her throat. He stood back as a fountain of blood burst forth. The woman stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. Retrieve her weapon. Parker knelt, doing his best to avoid the blood pooling around the corpse.
Place your hand upon the corpse. He placed his hand on her shoulder. A burst of crimson energy erupted around the body, disintegrating it instantly. He stood once more. We must remove the other three. There can be no witnesses. He nodded, cocking the pistol and making his way upstairs. He found the other officer one floor below the top, standing near an open window. The man turned in his direction, frowning slightly. He made his way in Parker's direction. Parker raised his blade, slamming it into the man's heart, and shooting him in the throat. The officer gurgled, holding his throat as he fell to the floor. Parker knelt, retrieving his fallen weapon.
He took a moment to take a deep breath. He stared down at the corpse, frowning slightly. He'd never really considered what it would mean to kill. How it might make him feel. It alarmed him to realise he felt nothing. Briefly, he wondered if the voice in his mind was already somehow affecting him. A sense of peace overcame his senses, and he once more held his breath, destroying the body before once more descending to the ground floor. He stepped out into the cold night air. Rain pelted down upon him. John had been forced up against the wall by the remaining officer, hands cuffed behind him. Parker raised his gun, firing two shots through the man's skull, killing him instantly. Blood splattered across his cousin, who jumped and shouted out in shock. The police officer fell lifelessly onto the footpath. John spun around wildly, searching for the source of the shots. Parker removed his hood and took a breath, materialising before the other man.
"Parker! You're safe!" Parker nodded, gesturing to the car. John nodded, running in that direction. He stopped, glancing around behind him at the sound of sirens. "What about you?" Parker shrugged,moving towards the fallen officer.
"I'll be fine. You need to get out of here before they arrive." John nodded.
Parker disintegrated the final corpse, and turned and headed down a nearby alleyway.
–AoS–
April 20, 2008
Staten Island ferry
10:48am
He stood on the deck of the ferry, watching the glory of the Manhattan skyline unfolding before his eyes. Clint stepped up next to him, silently passing him a can of coke. Steve frowned at the sight of the archer's regular diet Pepsi. He'd never understood how the SHIELD agent could drink such swill. Clint chuckled as he caught his gaze. Steve shook his head, also smiling.
"So," he began, unsure how best to continue.
"So," Clint replied,grinning. "Maybe if you did it as a musical number. Through a bit of an Irish jig in there." Steve shook his head, laughing. Barton had always preferred to diffuse tension.
"The Canadians have a Super soldier serum." He stated. Clint nodded.
"Probably". He agreed.
"They think it's the stuff that gave Sentinel his powers".
"Oh".
"Yeah".
"More potent than ours then?"
Steve nodded. "They want me to find out for sure. Maybe bring him in for study if needs be. Or maybe more than study". Clint showed no outward signs of how that made him feel. He nodded slightly, glancing down at the churning water below.
"Well, I hope it doesn't come down to that, pal. For everyone's sake". Steve nodded.
"Me too. Got anything on Sentinel?"
"Not a lot. We're trying to look into him. Last I heard Nat was being sent into New York. Seems like that's where he's operating out of". Steve frowned. It was unusual for SHIELD to know so little. Clint had always been level with him before, so he doubted he was being deceptive now.
"Rumour has it you may not be the only one after him though." Steve glanced at him curiously.
"Doom was spotted in the city by one of ours recently. He was meeting with the Russians. We pulled in one of their guys. Apparently, Doom sent those apes the ESU to 'test' Sentinel.
Steve grit his teeth. The last thing he needed to complicate his mission was a dictator with immunity.
"Thanks for the Intel." He turned away from the other spy, patting him on the shoulder. Clint nodded.
"Of course. No worries pal. Join me at the range when this is over?"
"Sure. Why not let you mop the floor with me again?"
–AoS–
April 20, 2008
New York City
11:02 AM
Captain George Stacy stood on the sidewalk, watching forensics officers tear the apartment buildings and abandoned patrol cars apart. Disgruntled residents stood all around. Most had already been interviewed. He glanced at Philips by his side. The detective looked as grim as he felt.
"So, how much do we actually know?"
"Not enough. Concerned Samaritan heard strange noises in the building, called it in. The officers responding came out, and never reported in. The cars were found like this a few hours later. Skid marks indicate they left in a hurry. Witness says by the sound she thought there were at least three, maybe even four." He nodded, frowning slightly. Something about that idea didn't sit right with him. And witnesses were notoriously unreliable.
She patted him on the shoulder. "Get home cap," the homicide detective told him with a smile. "We can finish this up without you. I know you haven't seen your wife and daughter in a while. God knows if I could get home to my dad, I'd be there now". George shook his head.
"If I go home, it's just Helen and I. Gwen is spending the weekend with her friend Nate and his family." The detective nodded. The younger officer grinned at him.
"First sleepover at a male friend's huh? How does dad feel about that?" George smiled slightly, shaking his head as he cleaned his glasses.
"It's not like that. Gwen's interests don't line up with those of a lot of the girls at school. That and the recent transfer mean she hasn't made a lot of friends at Midtown yet. She and Nate have been best friends since the first day they met. He's a good kid. And his parents are both responsible. Mom's a doctor, stepfather's in real estate." He did his best to ignore the flinch of Katie's shoulders at the mention of the word stepfather.
"C"mon," he told her, looking towards the lineup of residents of the nearby buildings. "Let's nail the bastards that did this." The detective nodded her approval.
–AoS–
They strolled through the galleries, gazing at the exhibits. Doctor Thomas and Alexis were a few hundred metres behind them. Close enough to keep an eye on them, far enough to give them some privacy. Nate stopped, gesturing to one of the artefacts. Gwen had always loved museums, with the blend of science and culture. She could get lost in history and happily never turn back. Before her dad being transferred and her meeting Nate, she used to spend all the time she could in the local museum, browsing exhibits she had seen a dozen or more times already.
The natural history museum in the upper West side of Manhattan, with the hustle and bustle of the city all around was both the largest and busiest she had yet seen. She loved every second. They had declined one of the guided tours, preferring to make their own way through the museum at their own pace. Every second or third artefact, her best friend would stop, point to and excitedly tell her everything he had ever read on it. It was much nicer, Gwen mused, to have someone with whom she could share the experience. Try as she might however, she could not bring herself to enjoy the day. Nate glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He stopped in front of a diorama, glancing at her worriedly.
"What's the matter?"
She smiled at him as best she could. "Nothing. I'm just worried you're angry with me." Nate laughed.
"Why?"
"Last night. You didn't want to go, and I made you".
He shook his head, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"Gwen, I'm not mad. I actually had fun last night. I just didn't tell you cause I figured you'd not want to know".
"I'd like to. If you want to tell me." He nodded, swinging an arm around her shoulders to give her a reassuring hug. She beamed as he released her, dropping his arm to his side once more. They resumed walking, gazing at the hundreds of artefacts.
"So?"
Nate grinned. "So what?" Gwen laughed, shoulder barging him playfully. Nate through his hand up in submission.
"Okay. Okay I give." He laughed.
"There were already aliens outside the ship when I got there," he began speaking softly enough only she could hear. "They called themselves Kree. They thought I was an alien as well. They kept calling me a Harridanite. I agreed to help them get into the ship, since it was a Harridanite ship. It responded to me being there. Almost as soon as we entered though, we were attacked by some sort of security robots. The noise of the alarms on the ship knocked me out".
Gwen glanced up at him in concern. "You're weak to sound-based attacks?
Nate nodded. "It looks that way. Makes sense really I guess". She hummed softly, smiling thoughtfully as they made their way through the gallery. It did make sense. With his enhanced senses thanks to violet, increased vulnerability to feedback was natural, she supposed. At least now he was aware of it, she thought grimly.
–AoS–
April 20th, 2008
Chase Bank, New York City
9:50 AM
Officer Robert Matthews followed the confused and alarmed bank manager past the tellers and into the vaults. They made their way to the vault at the far end of the building, which like all the others was sealed tight. Mr Morgan turned to look at him. "This is the vault in question, officer."
"And you say the cameras picked up no one entering or leaving the vault?" The manager nodded, before ordering for the vault door to be opened. The steel door swung open slowly. Both men stepped back. Robert narrowed his eyes at the sight that greeted him: the vault was bare. Not a single note or coin in sight. Every single cent was gone, with nothing to account for it. He stared at the empty vault in shock, slowly stepping through the door. He hastily unstrapped his radio from his belt, calling for backup and forensics.
–AoS–
April 25th, 2008
Midtown Elementary, New York City
8:45 AM
The sun shone down upon New York, warmth flooding the city. Despite his normal ambivalence, Nate found himself looking forward to gym class after homeroom. Fridays were always outside activity rather than gym work, and it was too nice a day to complain. He sat on the bench beside Gwen, watching his schoolmates walk past on their way to class or before school activities. Gwen gently poked him in the ribs. He turned to see what she wanted, and swore silently.
A small boy walked silently along the hall towards an empty locker. The boy who wore glasses which had clearly been taped together. The other boy was heedless of the danger he was about to walk into. Flash Thompson, standing with the rest of his gang, was pointing the boy out to others and talking quietly. The jock laughed before following after the boy, who had reached his assigned locker. As the brunette was opening the metal door, Thompson slammed it shut. Nate, doing his best to affect a casual air, began crossing the hall in their direction. He heard Gwen warning him to be careful, and nodded.
Flash was sneering as he stared down at the other boy. "Hey there, little bud. Long time, no see." He ruffled the new kid's hair, though the gesture was obviously anything but friendly. The other boy peered up at the jock.
"Hey Eugene. How have you been?"
Nate snorted loudly. "Seriously? Eugene? That's your name?" Flash turned to glare at him, placing a hand on the other boy's chest to keep him in place. He signalled the rest of his gang to approach. Nate watched them out of the corner of his eye. The only one he trusted not to get involved if it turned physical was Randy Robertson, who stood at the back, watching the proceedings silently. Nate frowned slightly. He'd never had problems with Robertson, and he'd even enjoyed the other boy's company over the summer when he'd been helping the basketball player with an assignment. This sort of thing had never seemed like anything Robertson would want involvement in. Maybe he'd been wrong, he thought grimly. The other boy mouthed for him to back out. Nate discreetly shook his head. Robertson shrugged.
Flash glared at him. "Back off and mind your own business, Thomas. This is between me and the new kid. Isn't that right, old pal?" The other boy gulped slightly, glancing between Nate and the arm on his chest.
Nate shook his head, grinning broadly. "Sorry, meathead. No can do. I'm making it my business." Flash glared once more, slamming the new boy into the locker, and sweeping his feet out from under him. The bigger boy proceeded to advance on Nate, waving his thugs off. Randy took a step forward. Whether to help his friend or call him off, Nate was unsure. Flash swung a fist, which Nate ducked under. The bigger boy was stronger, but with VIOLET sharpening his reflexes and abilities, Nate was the better fighter. He ducked the next three wild swings, his opponent gritting his teeth in frustration.
"Throw a punch Thomas!" Flash snarled. Nate snorted.
"Why?" Flash's answer was to deliver a swift kick, which Nate deftly jumped over, sending Flash careening to the ground with a trip and shove. The other boy hissed, leaping once more to his feet. Flash signalled as he advanced once more, three of his four friends leaping into action. One made his way towards the new boy, who shouted a warning as another swung at Nate from behind. He dropped to the floor, and the other boy struck Flash instead, nose crunching under his fist. The jock swore, shoving his goon to the ground next to Nate. He lifted Nate off the floor, striking him in the ribs.
Air rushed out of his lungs. He coughed, sharp pain radiating out of his side. The other boy struck first his assailant than flash over the head with a pile of textbooks. Flash snarled, grabbing his friends as he took off running. The crowd of watching students parted to let them pass. Nate, still winded and lying on the floor, rolled onto his back, watching listlessly as Randy looked uncertainly between Nate, the new boy panting with adrenaline slowly wearing off and his friends. The other boy took a cautious step towards Nate. Gwen came running towards the three, glaring at Randy and watching the third boy carefully as she knelt at Nate's side, helping him into a sitting position.
"Get out of here, Robertson," she hissed, wrapping Nate's arm around her shoulders. After a moment's hesitation, Randy turned on his heel and followed after the others. Still dazed from the blow, Nate whispered his thanks to his best friend as she helped him slowly to his feet. He glanced at the other boy, grinning slightly, offering his free hand. The boy tensed slightly, stepping back. Nate grinned.
"Easy there. Same side."
Cautiously, the other boy took his hand, shaking it weakly.
"I'm Gwen Stacy," Gwen introduced taking the stranger's hand next, "this fool is Nathaniel Thomas."
"Call me Nate. All my friends do." He rasped.
The other boy nodded, voice shaky as he replied.
"I'm Peter. Peter Parker."
Miss Stacy, Mr Parker! Bring him to my classroom!" A man's voice came from further along the hall. Nate glanced up tiredly, his favourite teacher gesturing to the trio. Peter Parker moved to his side to assist Gwen, and together the pair half walked half carried him towards Mr McNorman. The teacher nodded, parting Nate on the shoulder as they helped him into the room and to a seat. Nate leaned back in the chair, taking a sharp rasping breath. The science teacher winced in empathy, before turning to the other two in the room.
"Get out of here now, you two. I'll sort things out for Nate. Fortunately, I was the only teacher to catch anything of the fight, so you'll have no punishment." Gwen frowned, clearly intent on staying. Nate waved her off, assuring her they would catch up later. They turned and left the room, glancing back. McNorman nodded reassuringly as they stepped out into the hall before turning to him.
"Now then," he clapped his hands together. "Let's get a look at those ribs, shall we?" Nate hissed softly as the teacher gently pushed against his side. McNorman murmured an apology. Nate waved him off, taking a deep bracing breath.
"What's up, Doc?" He joked. McNorman smiled slightly at the levity. He leaned back once more.
"Good to see your sense of humor is intact, mr. Thomas. Fortunately I don't think he broke anything. You're just winded." He reached for Nate's wrist, frowning slightly. "You bruised your knuckles pretty good though. They're bleeding." He made his way over to the cupboards by his desk, rummaging through them. Nate winced slightly. If only the criminals he'd been stopping for the last few months could see him now, he thought. McNorman returned with a handful of cotton balls, gently cleaning his bloody hand before wrapping it with gauze. Nate nodded as the teacher stepped back.
"Thanks sir."
"Of course Nate. That was a noble thing you did back there. Very heroic."
"Don't tell anyone," he joked, " I have a reputation to maintain." McNorman laughed.
"Your secret is safe with me".
–AoS–
Between the bank robberies he'd raised a quarter of a million already. The cops were none the wiser, no closer to finding him than they had been after the first theft. They were running in circles, panicking and on the lookout for hackers and terrorists. He laughed to himself as he sat in the lounge, watching the news. A spokesman for the latest bank he'd hit was trying to reassure the public that their security was good enough to protect their savings. As ever, they were at a loss to explain his crime.
The phone rang on the coffee table in front of him. He swore, picking it up and glancing at the screen. Unknown caller ID. He frowned darkly, hitting the call button and holding the cell phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
The answering voice was calm and cold, with a slight Russian accent.
"Mr Robbins, listen very carefully. We have your cousin. John has not been very forthright with us. He claims you helped him break into an apartment on the weekend. That you killed several police, and took something from the building. That address was given to John by one of my men. Whatever of value you found will be given over to me, Robbins. Or I will mail your cousin to you piece by piece, then I'll start with your wife and child." Parker felt his blood run cold.
"What do you want?" He whispered.
"The cloak and whatever you used it to steal. Bring it to me at the address I text to you in a moment by the end of the hour, or I'll ensure you regret it. Do I make myself clear, Robbins?"
"Yes," he replied shakily. Crystal he thought darkly. The Russian hung up, the line going dead. Parker glared darkly out the window. The cloak floated over to his side. He grabbed it, pulling it over his head.
Take my full power, the voice in his head whispered, and they will never dare cross you again. You could have it all, you need only say the word.
" I accept". His vision darkened, and as the demon possessed his body, Parker Robbins knew no more.
–AoS–
John shivered in the cold of the darkened warehouse. His captor's men still patrolled the courtyard outside. He could hear their boots scraping against the concrete. His heart hammered in his chest. The gun resting against the back of his neck was freezing. The only source of light in the warehouse came from the cigarette his captor now smoked on merilly. The glove resting firmly on John's shoulder felt suffocating. He winced.
"Parker won't come" he stated, trying to sound calm. His companion laughed softly, the sound loud as a giant's roar in the empty building.
"I think he will, John. Blood is as you westerners say, 'thicker than water'. Besides, if he doesn't, your brains will be splattered across my nice suit. So you best hope for both our sakes he does come. And soon.
–AoS–
He watched them from above and across the street through Parker's eyes. Heard the sounds of their footsteps and breathing through Parker's ears. Soon, he would smell their fear through the human's nose. From this height and distance, even without his invisibility, none of them would see him. His new found freedom was both exhilarating and confusing. After so long, it was as though his senses were being overloaded by information. He would not keep Parker's body for his own forever. Not yet, at least. He would return control to the mortal once they were done here.
With his breath still held, he dropped off the skyscraper. Magic slowed his descent, and he dropped to the ground softly, crossing the street hurriedly. As he approached the warehouse, he realised his breath, Parker's form materialising into view briefly as he raised his hands into the air. Several of the Russians moved forwards, weapons raised. The chains were removed from the fence and the gate was opened. He allowed them to drag him through and slam the gate shut once more.
Two men held him firmly, while a third checked him for weapons. The man withdrew his guns, slipping them into his own pants belt. He finished his search, gesturing for the other two to take him into the warehouse. A cruel smirk graced Parker Robbins' lips. A crimson energy field enveloped the man's entire body. He screamed as his arms and legs shattered and he fell to the ground. The men holding Parker gripped their throats as the air fled their lungs and they fell to their knees, choking to death. He pulled the guns off the other man's prone form, shooting him twice in the head.
Shouts sounded throughout the compound. Four more men came running around the warehouse, machine guns blaring. He raised a hand lazily, transfiguring their bullets into snow drops. He once again took a breath, vanishing instantly from view.
–AoS–
The sound of gunshots from the other side of the warehouse set them running. Vasily led his squad around the building, their guns hoisted and ready to fire. Of the trio of men posted near the entrance, two were lying dead. The third was groaning in agony, arms and legs shattered. A crimson clad figure stood above the bodies. Vladimir shouted orders, though he needn't have bothered. They opened fire at once, intent on killing the intruder.
The stranger vanished in an instant. The other men gasped. His second in command whispered a prayer beside him. Vladimir raised his pistol, instructing them to spread out. They fanned out across the yard, each hunting for the intruder.
Shouts pierced the air, followed by gunshots. Vasily spun around, scanning for the source of the commotion. Two of his squadmates lay on the ground, blood pooling on the concrete around them. He frowned, raising his handgun. A final shot rung out,followed by the sound of laughter. Vasily snarled.
"Where are you?! Coward!" He screamed, twisting on the spot. The air shimmered, followed by the sound of footsteps as the red clad figure stepped forwards, gun in each hand.
"Right here" he hissed, grinning at Vasily as he did so.
"What are you?" The grin sharpened.
"Would you believe me if I told you?" The stranger whispered softly, head tilted to the side as he watched Vasily inquisitively. The stranger smirked.
" Demon" he hissed, raising the guns. Vladimir fired first. The stranger flicked his fist, the bullet vanishing instantly. A burst of wind shook the buildings around them, and Vasily's world turned to white. Wind buffeted his face, gritting his teeth. He blinked stupidly as he found himself stood on a rooftop. Floating across from him was a tall figure in black, red cape billowing about him.
Vasily stepped back, gulping slightly. The gun slipped from his grasp as he raised his hands. Sentinel smiled slightly.
"Whatever you've done, you don't deserve to die. What can you tell me?"
"The boss wanted to speak with a guy who robbed an apartment. They went there on his Intel, so he wanted a cut. We kidnapped one of them, and contacted the partner. Then the freak in the red cloak turned up. He was impossible to see with, we couldn't even see him. He wiped out my men". Vladimir took a deep shuddering breath. Sentinel nodded, grabbing him by the back of his shirt.
Once again, the world flashed by, and he found himself tied by the wrists outside a police station. The hero was gone. Vasily snorted, rolling his eyes.
–AoS–
He watched, fascinated, through Parker's eyes as the Russian disappeared in a burst of wind. It would seem he wasn't the only supernatural entity in New York. A scan of his host's memories revealed a name. Sentinel. He frowned, when he had been free, he'd met a Harridanite once before. They were arrogant, preferring to keep to themselves. If there was one on earth, it didn't bode well for the population. This strange being had the same powers as the one he had met before. If it really were a Harridanite, he'd need to find a new planet.
Striding up to the sealed warehouse, he stretched out a hand , teleporting the lock off the door and pushing the door open. He stepped into the darkness, gun raised in front of him. The Russian stood behind his cousin, bound on a steel chair, gun resting against the back of his head. He glared at the other man, who stared back unflinchingly. The two gazed at one another, each daring the other to fire.
"You will give me my fee, or I will kill your cousin".
" I don't think so".
–AoS–
Nate touched down softly outside the warehouse. Bile leaped into his throat as he glanced at the corpses littering the ground. His stomach clenched painfully at the sight. Hyperventilating, he clenched his fists at his side, taking deep, cleansing breaths before stepping up towards the open door and walking into the warehouse itself. There were three men in the warehouse already, one chained and bound to a steel chair, the other two stood across from one another, guns levelled at each other. Nate narrowed his eyes. One of these men was a murderer. The man in the middle stared at him, eyes widening at the sight. Vladimir Petrov and the third man turned their gazes to him. Petrov sneered. The hooded figure pointed both his guns at him, fear flashing in his eyes briefly.
He narrowed his eyes as he glanced at Nate's chest. "No one alive has the right to wear that symbol,"he spoke, voice high and rasping. "How did you acquire it?"
Nate narrowed his eyes, floating towards the man in an instant. He snapped out a hand, snapping the man's left arm. The gun in his hand fell from his grip. Petrov remained still, watching intently. The stranger snarled, arm enveloped in crimson lightning. Cautiously, Nate took a step back. The arm snapped back into place, and he curled his left hand around the gun, pointing it once more at Nate.
"What are you?" He demanded. The stranger ignored his question.
"This is no matter of yours, alien. Leave before this turns to violence." Nate's eyes hardened.
"For one thing, for the last time, I'm not an alien. For another, you killed those men."
The strange laughed, cruel and high. "They were hardly innocents."
"But still people."
"I tire of this conversation". The stranger fired. Once, twice, three times. Nate smirked. As the first shot struck him, he felt a burning sensation in his shoulder. The second and third struck his chest. He fell to his knees, gripping his chest and right arm convulsing. The hooded figure turned away from him.
–AoS–
He watched, eerily fascinated as Sentinel and Robbins spoke. The voice that came from under the hood was not that of the hapless fool he had spoken to on the phone. There was something far more sinister in its tone. Something dark and deadly. Sentinel snapped Parker's hand, which merely glowed like Doom when he wielded his arcane power, and instantly mended itself.
The thief fired his handgun three times, the bullets wreathed in crimson fire. They slammed into the hero, sending him to his knees. Vladimir took a step back in shock, glancing at the discarded gun on the floor, then to the wounded hero. Robbins turned to look at him, pistol raised as he strode towards his seated cousin, placing a hand on the man, who disappeared in a flash of light. He rested the gun against Vladimir's temple, staring at him.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the end. The shot never came. When he opened his eyes once more, he was standing in an alleyway. Sentinel, leaned against a wall, stood nearby, watching him warily.
"You saved me"
"Like I said, you're still people". Vladimir nodded thoughtfully.
"You didn't bring me to a police station". He stated calmly. The other man shook his head, teeth clenched.
"We both know there's no evidence for any of your crimes. Besides, I can hardly stand, let alone fly." Vladimir smirked knowingly. He nodded, turning away from the younger man.
"Thank you. For my life". Sentinel did not reply. He walked through the alleyway, sliding his hands into his pockets as he went. He stopped at the end, glancing back over his shoulder.
"What next?"
"I'll deal with him if and when he shows his face again." Vlad nodded once more.
"Parker Robbins. That is his name."
–AoS–
A burst of wind caught Didi Thomas's attention as she was leaving the maternity ward. Stood in front of her, leaned against the wall, gripping his chest was a familiar figure. Sentinel stared at her, sweat covering his forehead and eyes glazed over in pain.
"Help me," he rasped, before sliding down the wall. She hastily pulled him to his feet, staggering towards a private room. She lowered him onto the bed, and gathered a set of surgeon's tools. She turned back to the man, his suit shimmering slightly before rippling away to be replaced by a set of black jeans. Making her way over to the semi conscious hero, she glanced at his wounds.
There were two bullet holes in his chest, and one in his right shoulder. Extracting the bullets took longer than normal, with no way of piercing his skin to make incisions. After hours of work, she removed the last piece of shrapnel. He slowly sat up, grimacing slightly. He nodded gratefully at her.
"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about the holes. Your skin is too strong to try and use stitches." He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.
"They'll heal on their own soon enough. I just needed the bullets out." She nodded, following him to the door. His suit once more covered his body. The pair stood in the hall, neither speaking for several moments.
"Thank you for your help. I didn't know who else to go to." She shrugged.
"That's what I do. I help people." He nodded, beaming at her. After pulling her into a surprise hug, the superhero soared out through the nearest window. Didi chuckled softly, shaking her head.
–AoS–
He stood on the balcony of the penthouse apartment he had purchased for himself, Sara, and Breanne. Wind rustled through his hair as he sipped on his drink. The cloak was bundled safely in the security vault he had purchased with the apartment. John had urged him to continue to use it, but he'd refused. Without its influence, he could once again think clearly. He had started this to help his family. He had more than enough for that already. The voice in the back of his head was still there, but it was quiet now. Manageable.
The night air was cool and soothing. Stars twinkled in the distance. The moon hung high in the sky. Clouds blanketed the outskirts of the city. A plane descended into LaGuardia. He took a final swig of his glass, and turned to the glass table behind him to refill it once more.
"Parker Robbins". He spun around at the sound of the voice, once more on alert. Floating a few feet from the balcony and gazing at him imperiously was Sentinel. The hero's blue eyes were hard as steel. Parker felt terror grip him.
"Sentinel" he breathed.
"You killed those men. You tried to kill me as well." Parker desperately shook his head.
"No!", He implored, stepping forward, arms raised placatingly. "It wasn't me. It was the creature in the cloak. It possesses me when I wear it. I never killed anyone!" Sentinel glared at him for several moments, before tilting his head at the apartment beyond them.
"You look like you did alright out of it."
"This is the last of it, I swear! I only wanted to help my family. My mother, she's old. She lost her house. She needed somewhere to live, and we couldn't support her. My daughter is sick. The doctors don't know what the problem is." Sentinel's gaze softened slightly, though he still watched Parker carefully.
"Get rid of it. I'll be keeping an eye on you." He vanished with a faint burst of wind.
A/N: Sorry this took so long. This chapter was as painful as pulling teeth to get through. Hopefully, the rest will be shorter for a while. I know a lot of people won't like the fact that there wasn't a fight. I wanted to use this chapter to show Nate that he isn't invincible, and to begin to develop his mindset that saving people takes precedence over just beating up the villains. I don't think there's enough of heroes in the MCU just saving people in bad situations; stuff like the train scene in Spiderman 2. As for the ending, I like the idea of Parker being similar to someone like Manbat from DC or the lizard, just a decent man in a bad situation. Obviously he's not exactly the same, since he's a criminal, but I want to portray him as being just as much a victim of the cloak as the people the hood kills.
Peter Parker actors - 2008-12 (10-14) Parker Bates
2013 - (15) Tom Holland
Clint Barton - Jeremy Renner
Parker Robbins - Anthony Ramos
Raven Darkholme / Mystique - Olivia Wilde
Well, thanks for sticking with me. Next chapter ASAP.