Chapter Seven: Home to you

Peter's breaths were getting caught in his throat and his heart hammered against his ribs. The control he usually had over his powers faltered and he his palms stuck to the beige-colored wall. "It's her!" Natasha stood from her seat so fast that she knocked it over. "Oh, Christ! It's HER!" Natasha looked as shocked as he felt. Her mouth agape, she took a few hesitant steps towards him. The tremble in her small hands went unnoticed to everyone but Peter.

Tony took a defensive stance and opened the repulsor hidden in his wristwatch, and aimed it at his friend. "What the hell are you doing here, Romanoff?" Tony demanded the repolsur humming with energy and aimed at Natasha's chest. He grew more defensive when her eyes stayed locked on the boy who had stumbled out into the hallway. "Natasha, you will tell me what the hell you're doing here NOW!" Tony's mind raced. How had she found them? And why? What the hell could Natasha Romanoff possibly want with Peter, even if she did know that he was the Spider-Man.

Natasha took a deep, shaky breath, and a small smile tugged the corners of her lips. It was him! After all those years of thinking she'd never see him again, he was right in front of her. "Peter..." Natasha called out to the boy, who visibly tensed in response. She was focused on the bruises on his pale face and how he'd glued himself to the wall behind him. She was so entranced in just looking him over that Tony's idle threats fell on deaf ears. "Peter." She called out to him again, praying he'd respond and give her a chance to explain why she was there.

This wasn't how Peter expected meeting her to go, and he hadn't anticipated having a full-blown anxiety attack. "She knows my name?" Natasha took two more steps towards him, her hand reaching out to him. "It really is you..." It was the only reason she'd be here; it wasn't deniable anymore. He was the child of the Black Widow.

The words hit Natasha like a punch in the gut. Had he been searching for her? Not once had she considered he might be searching for her as well. "Last chance." Tony stepped in front of Natasha, raising his hand to prove to her that he meant business.

"Tony!" May finally interjected, seeing how Peter and Natasha were too dumbfounded to get a word out. "That's HER!" May found it impossible to say the word 'Mom' while talking about Natasha. Even if she knew it was true.

Tony's instinct to protect Peter was controlling most of his actions at that moment, but he managed to pry his eyes off Natasha for long enough to make eye contact with May. "What?" He inquired, raising a brow. "What does that mean?" Tony Stark was a genius; no one could deny that. But when he let his emotions get the better of him, which was often, it blinded him to facts in front of his very eyes.

"Tony, it's HER!" May shouted something she tried her very best not to do. "Why else would she be here?" May lowered her voice.

The man was still confused, his gaze finally turning to his teammate. Her usually calm and collected demeanor had fallen away, and it left a woman staring shocked at the teen with her mouth agape. Tony lowered his hand and stared at Natasha, stunned by the fact that she was shaken. He finally turned to Peter, who was still glued to the wall. "What's up with them-" His train of thought ended abruptly. Tony pieced it together and spun around to face Peter. "Her!?" He questioned, pointing his thumb back at Natasha. "That's your Mom!?" The blood had drained from Peter's bruised face, and he looked as if he might pass out at any moment.

Peter panicked and managed to pull himself free from the wall and walked quickly away from the room. It was too much. ALL of it was too much, from the beeping of the heart rate monitor next to May's bed to Tony's shouting and the hum of the repulsor on his hand. Peter wasn't sure where he was going, but he couldn't be there.

Tony went after him but was stopped by Natasha's hand on his arm. "Tony, I think he needs a second," Natasha spoke calmly, though she desperately wanted to run after him.

A small scoff came from Tony, yanking his arm free of her grip. "Oh really? Is that what ya think?" He took a long exaggerated step towards her. "And how well do you know the kid? Hm? How much time have you spent with him?" He questioned; he stopped just a foot away from her. The spy glared back at Tony but didn't speak. "You don't get to drop back into his life after God knows how long and tell ME what's best for him." The spy's fists were clenched at her sides. Tony let a sigh escape his lips as he finally stepped away from Natasha. "How did you even find him?" He finally questioned. "I removed his information from every database I could get in." Tony was genuinely curious and genuinely worried about who else might come snooping.

Natasha allowed herself to relax. "I didn't," She admitted begrudgingly. Tony had done a good job wiping any trace of Peter from the web. "But I found her, and I knew this would lead me to him." Natasha rubbed her temples. This was far messier and chaotic than she'd hoped, and finding out Peter had been searching for her as well made her feel sick. The unimaginable loneliness he must have felt.

"So what now?" Tony began to press again. "You want us to stand aside, let you take over raising the kid who doesn't know you?" He'd always had a distrust for Natasha, and when it came to Peter, that feeling was amplified.

"Tony, I didn't say that." Natasha retorted, annoyed that Tony would assume something like that. "I just want to know him!" Natasha practically shouted without even knowing she'd said it. She let out a small stunned laugh. "I just want to have a relationship with my son."

Tony shook his head. "That ship came and went, Romanoff." He said coldly. It wasn't fair to Peter for her to decide after all this time to come back.

"Tony..." May finally spoke again. "No one gets to make that decision except Peter." Tony was stunned; he thought if anyone was going to be on his side, it'd be May. "She's his Mother, Tony. I know you love him, and so do I." May turned her gaze to Natasha, who smiled at her in return. May couldn't imagine what this was like for Natasha, and while she didn't know much about the young spy, she could tell that she absolutely wanted Peter. "But this isn't up to us." The man, who had become a Father figure to Peter, stood in silence. Begrudgingly, Tony Stark relented to the will of someone else.

Natasha mouthed the words, "Thank you." To the woman who had raised her son, who only smiled in reply. She went for the door but stopped and turned towards Tony, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. The usually remorseless Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Tony, I know you-" Tony's hand shot out from his pocket and silenced her.

"Leave while you're ahead."


Peter had made his way to the hospital's rooftop, sitting on the edge with his legs hanging off. He breathed in the cold, damp air that was blowing in off the nearby harbor listening to the morning traffic on the streets below. The teen busied himself with picking the pieces of drywall stuck to his hands from ripping himself free from the wall, his nerves slowly calming. He wondered silently how much that was going to cost Mr. Stark. Not that money was any sort of an issue for Tony.

The door behind him opened, and he knew without even turning. "How'd you know I'd be up here?" Peter asked her, still not turning around to look at her.

Natasha took in a deep breath of the morning air before speaking. "This is where I'd go." She said honestly while slowly approaching the boy. Peter stayed quiet while Natasha made her way to his side, allowing herself to lean over the waist-high wall so she could actually look at him. He quickly looked away from her, causing her to wince internally.

"Peter," She wanted to explain it to him. "I'm so sorry-"

"Why now?" The usually timid and mild-mannered kid interrupted. He didn't need or want her apologies.

She knew he'd ask that, and she'd run the scenario over in her head a hundred times but even after all that, she wasn't sure what to say to him. "Because I missed you..." He finally turned to look at her, and her eyes immediately went to the dark bruises and cuts that spotted his pale face. They were so much worse up close. She did her best to hide the surge of anger. "Batroc is a fucking dead man." The assassin thought to herself, thinking of how she was going to kill him.

Natasha could see Peter had a million questions. How old was he when she left? Why did she go? Who was his Father? He unconsciously ran his hand through his tangled hair. But there was only one question he could get past the lump in his throat. "Was it hard? Not being with me, I mean." Peter knew it must have been, or she wouldn't be sitting next to him. But still, he felt himself tense again as he waited for her response.

She looked away from Peter, feeling the full guilt of the decision she'd made all those years ago. "Some times were easier than others," Natasha could have lied. Could have told him that he had been on her mind every minute of every day. He may have even believed her; Natasha was an exceptional liar after all. But starting their relationship off with lies wasn't the relationship she wanted with her son. "I buried myself in my work. Trying to right all the wrongs I'd done." The memories of working for SHIELD were still fresh in her mind, as were the memories of her years with the KGB. And unbeknownst to her at the time, Hydra. "And then when that stopped working, I moved on to the next thing," Natasha recalled how hard she'd struggled with her decision as the years went by.

Peter pulled his legs up on the wall and crossed them as he turned to look at Natasha. "What did you do next that helped you pretend I didn't exist?" Peter didn't mean for it to come off as bitter as it had, but saying he was hurt by being abandoned would be understating things.

Natasha hung her head for a moment, trying to fight off the overwhelming feeling of regret that was seizing her chest. "I didn't pretend-" She almost tried to defend her actions but stopped herself. They were together for the first time in 13 years, and she knew defending that to him would only widen the rift between them. "I got swept up in-" She stopped, suddenly, a little smile appearing on her lips. "In being a hero. Being an Avenger." Being an Avenger had consumed her life for the better part of 6 years. Everything else got thrown to the wayside.

Peter was silent, his brown eyes once again looking off at the horizon. The Avengers, the saviors of humanity, his idols. They had inadvertently kept his Mother from him... And he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"I'm so sorry, Peter..." Natasha found her face was in her hands, without really knowing how it got there.

"Please-" The teenager began to protest, shaking his head slowly.

"Peter, please, just let me say this." Natasha practically begged the boy. Peter relented to her. She was doing her best, and this was no easier on her than it was on him. "I can't get back all the years that I missed. I wish I could, but-" Natasha fought the slight quiver of her lower lip as her mind wandered to all the things the little spider next to her had learned on his own. All the bedtime stories, birthdays, and Christmases. God, she'd missed so much. "I'm your Mother. But as of right now, I'm not your Mom." The woman smiled at him, though Peter could see the tears in her eyes. "If you'll let me, I'd like to change that." Natasha knew all too well that her place in his life may have already been filled.

Peter gasped slightly and attempted to blink away the tears. "Stop crying, Parker!" He mentally cursed knowing Natasha wanted him was... Overwhelming. So the young hero simply nodded his head in agreement, fighting off the urge to reach out to her. "I'd like that."


Georges sat alone at a Hammer industries test site in the desert outside Albuquerque, New Mexico. Reacquainting himself with the weapons he'd been using since he was just 17. The aging Merc couldn't help but smile at the feeling of the G36 assault rifle in his hands. With a deep breath, he pulled the stock tight into his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. Batroc had always preferred things up close and personal and enjoyed the thrill of beating his opponents in hand-to-hand combat. But that didn't mean he wasn't an expert marksman, and the bullets hit the targets at nearly 200 yards.

"Georges?" Justin's voice came over a radio the eccentric arms dealer had given him.

"Oui?"He answered in his native tongue.

"I'm on my way to the facility with the United Order." Georges could hear the uneasiness in Justin's voice. He still didn't trust or like the zealots that they'd recruited. "You're sure about this?" Justin let his nervousness get the better of him again. It was clear to Batroc that Justin had little control over his emotions.

"They're necessary to killing the Avengers," Batroc assured him, his eyes finding the weapons he'd laid out for the United Order to train with. The weapons ranged from the assault rifle in his hand to shoulder-mounted Anti-Aircraft missile launchers.

"You've said that, but I can't see how these idiots-"

"Enough..." Batroc wasn't interested in debating the usefulness of the fanatics. "The United Order is not only a crucial part of MY plan, but they are now our allies." The radio was silent for a long time, and Georges knew he was still skeptical of any plan that involved the use of the United Order. "They are a means to an end, Justin. Nothing more." Truthfully, Georges hadn't given much thought to what he was going to do with the survivors after the remaining Avengers were in the ground.

Georges watched as a line of black SUVs entered the compound. "Way to be inconspicuous.." He shook his head in irritation. A convoy of black trucks rolling down the road draws a lot of attention, and they didn't need that right now.

Justin exited the first vehicle and speed-walked to Batroc's side. "Alright, this is all of them," Justin said, eyes the 150 cultists as they filed out of the SUVs. "You sure about this?" That comment earned him a glare from Batroc.

"Don't ask me that again." He ordered in a low but firm tone. "Good afternoon, everyone." Georges greeted the crowd, who all wore eager and apprehensive smiles. "We are pressed for time, so I'll get to the point. We all, for various reasons, want to see the Avengers eliminated." His keen eyes scanned the crowd of faces for any signs of uncertainty. He couldn't afford to have a zealot who lacked resolve. "I will teach you how to fire each of the weapons you see." A hand shot up from the crowd, shaking slightly as it practically begged him to call on it. "Yes." He sighed.

The young woman from the warehouse forced herself to the front of the group. "Um, yeah, it's not that I think I know more about warfare than you, but how are we supposed to kill them with these weapons?" She was skeptical. "The Avengers have beaten Aliens, demigods, and killer robots. How're humans with standard issue military gear and little training going to kill them?" Georges smiled slightly, impressed by the young woman.

"What's your name, girl?" He sidestepped the question for a moment.

"Jasmine." She responded shortly, not breaking eye contact with the older merc that most people wouldn't dare challenge.

"The fatal flaw in Loki and Ultron's plan was simple; they challenged the Avengers to a head-to-head fight." He smirked, thinking of it. It was an absurd idea, something even Loki had understood, which is why he tried to break them before his army arrived.

"And your plan differs from theirs? By the looks of it," She shrugged her shoulders and looked around at the small army of people that surrounded her. "You're training us for a war." Jasmine continued to argue.

Georges strolled over to the woman and stared down into her brown eyes. "Oh, it won't be much of a battle," He leaned in ever so slightly, trying to probe for any sign of fear or uneasiness in the girl. To his surprise, she didn't flinch. "I'm going to do what Ultron and Loki did not; I will use Stark's vanity against him." Batroc began to explain the plan to the group, but mainly to Jasmine, who was quickly earning the merc's respect. "The Stark Holiday Fundraiser that he hosts every Christmas eve is the perfect opportunity to ambush them." The smile disappeared from the girl's face, and he could feel dozens of horrified eyes staring at him. "Stark and Romanoff will be there, certainly. And I have a feeling Captain Rogers and his little posse of outlaws will be there." The range fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"Your plan, it's... it's..." Jasmine searched for the words to describe it.

"Horrifying," Georges answered, nodding his head in agreement. "I know, and I don't care." He spoke truthfully. "So many people have tried to kill them over the years, I'm sure they don't even remember half their names. I don't intend on rejoining the Avengers' countless adversaries in prison... or the dirt." Georges leaned back away from the girl as he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him. "I will kill the Avengers, and anyone who gets in my-" He stopped himself. "Our way." Their eyes stayed locked, and Georges watched as the reality of what they were going to do set in.

"It's what God commands, my child." The leader of the United Order, a man by the name of Tom Mathis, chimed in.

Georges held back a laugh and patted the younger woman on the shoulder. "Yes, it's your God's will." Jasmine relented to him, bowing her head slightly and breaking eye contact. She knew he was right, of course. Killing the Avengers wouldn't be easy, and they had to catch them off guard. But... Her mind couldn't help but think of the innocent people who could and would be collateral damage.

"Now," Georges spun around on the heel of his boot and made his way to one of the 6 M2 .50 caliber machine guns that were laid out. "Every one of you will have a part to play in the battle ahead."

The rest of the day went on pretty much how Georges expected it. After hours of discussing battle plans, forming groups for specific tasks, and training them for said tasks, the United Order seemed ready to take on the Avengers. Though Georges and Justin knew they weren't, and they would never be. Most of these people would be killed in the fighting, even with the training and weapons they were being provided.

The sun had set on the desert a few hours earlier, and most of the United Order had gone back to the airport to go home. Georges could hear the only person left at the bomb range approaching him. "Mr. Batroc?" Tom called out to his new ally.

"Georges." He corrected shortly as he loaded the guns back into their cases. The cult leader was going to pry at Georges' brain, again, searching for an answer to questions that were irrelevant. Or at least irrelevant to his plan.

"May I ask you something?" Georges turned towards the older man and studied him for a moment. The man was unassuming and even seemed pleasant in conversation: a facade, but a good one. Finally, Georges nodded reluctantly. "Why are you doing this? We, which is why you sought us out. But you? Your reason is still a mystery." Tom walked up to Georges and stared into his cold blue eyes as if they'd give him the answer he was searching for.

"It's simple, really." Georges shrugged and turned back to what he was doing. "They're a challenge." He heard the man sigh under his breath, only picking it up because of his super-human hearing. "You don't sound satisfied," Georges said in an irritated tone.

"That's it? They're a challenge?" He questioned. "No greater purpose?" Tom's beliefs guided everything he did, and it made grasping a man like Georges's motivations... Difficult.

Georges held back a scoff and turned towards Tom. "What, Like you? Killing in the name of your God?" He questioned, though he obviously knew the answer. "There have been a billion men just like you, and there'll be a billion more. Save your preaching for your followers." He finished in a huff.

"You don't believe in our cause?" Tom continued to press the issue, ignoring Georges' rigid posture and clenching fists.

"It doesn't matter what I believe in." Georges tried to end the conversation, slamming the lid closed on the crate filled with mortar barrels. "If you're right, then God's plan and mine seem to be one and the same."

"It does to me," Tom was growing angry with the younger man's defiance of God. "I won't pledge the lives of my people to a blasphemer who-" The mercenary had heard enough and spun around, wrapping a hand around Tom's neck and lifting him from the ground.

"Listen to me carefully," George demanded, keeping the man raised from the ground, his feet flailing and his hands gripping Georges's wrist. "I chose you and your group because I knew your devotion would be useful. Cease to be useful or in any way interfere with the mission at hand, and I will snap your neck." With a light toss, he practically threw Tom backward into the dirt.

"The day of reckoning is coming for all of us, and when it arrives, you will be forced to answer for the atrocities you have committed," Tom assured him, bitterness in his now scratchy voice. He realized that his followers were nothing more than a tool to Batroc, and he HATED that.

A slight smirk spread across Georges' lips as Tom continued, even after the threat against his life. As agitating as Tom was, he was a true believer. "I suppose we'll see after we're done killing the Avengers." He emphasized Tom's involvement in his plan, regardless of his feelings about him or his methods. "Now, if there's nothing else, I'm not quite finished planning." Georges ignored his reluctant comrade as he indignantly stood from the dirt and headed back towards the truck that was waiting for him.

"I guess you don't like them much either?" Justin had been watching from afar, interested to see how the Mercenary and prophet would get along.

"I don't need too," Georges shrugged. "I rarely liked the men under my command, and I doubt they liked me." He momentarily reflected on his time in the military. "We'll succeed because we all share the same goal. Killing the Avengers; it's that's all that matters now.

Author's note: Hey guys! Here's chapter 7! I know that was a really long wait and I'm sorry for that and I want to be open with you guys about why it took so long. I had to put my dog to sleep in February and it took me a long to time to be able sit at my computer because she wasn't at my feet. And I'm also starting to date again (I split up with my girlfriend of 4 years in September) so a lot of my spare time is going to that. I don't want you guys to be worried about me abandoning this story because I wont. But I also don't want to post a chapter I don't feel is any good simply get a chapter posted.
As always, please read and review! Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who's left a comment, I do truly appreciate them!