Chapter Nine: Letters from the Past
Peter stood in dumbfounded silence. "No?" He repeated. "What the hell do you mean NO!?" Peter wasn't aware that she could even tell him no. She had been designed to listen to him, hadn't she?
"If you go after him, you will get hurt," Karen tried to reason with the teen. However, that was easier said than done. "And I can't let that happen." She'd failed to protect him from the mercenary once before; that wouldn't happen twice. Peter kicked the gravel that covered the roof in frustration. "I know you're trying to do the right thing, but I care about you and-"
"You don't even know what it is to care about something." Peter spat bitterly.
"Peter.." Karen's voice carried a warning tone. "You are being hurtful." The AI realized that Peter was desperate to prove himself to Natasha. And, of course, he knew Karen cared. And whether it was programming, or something else, even Karen wasn't sure anymore. Not that she spent much time pondering the question.
The flustered teen took a deep breath and fought off the urge to apologize. "Georges Batroc is a killer that I could have stopped the last time we met, and I failed." Peter had done some research on the man. Beyond his mercenary work was a lengthy and impressive military career. And he had seen his skills first hand, evident by his healing bruises.
"If he kills anyone, it'll be because of me." Karen stayed silent. The kid had so much weight bearing down on him. A weight he didn't need to carry but was saddled with regardless. "You know it, and I know it, and-" He took a deep breath. "And Natasha and Mr. Stark know it." The idea of anyone dying because of him was terrifying enough on its own without it being coupled with the fear of letting down his heroes.
"You're right," Peter winced at the words. "He is a killer. And somebody you neither ready to stop, or responsible for stopping." Karen found it absurd for so much responsibility and guilt to be thrown on someone so young.
He truly wanted to believe that. And part of the young hero wanted her to say something to take the unimaginable guilt he constantly felt away. Uncle Ben sprang to his mind, however briefly. "What good are these powers if I don't use them to protect people?" When it came to his powers, if he wasn't using them for the greater good, then he was no better than the villains of the world. "Spider-Man exists to protect people." Peter straightened out his thoughts again. "He can't do that if he's being treated like a baby all the time." He spoke in the third person as if Spider-Man was a separate entity.
"Nice try, Kiddo. I'm still not giving you those coordinates." Karen shot him down again.
In a sudden fit of rage or petulance, as Karen saw it, the teen threw his backpack into the ground with all of his immeasurable strength. "Peter, stop it." Peter felt a tad bit embarrassed by his own antics but kept it to himself.
He scooped the bag off the ground, feeling defeated. Karen would never give him Batroc's location no matter what he did or said.
"Peter." Karen's voice came again, just before he could pull the mask off.
He sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. "What?" He hissed.
"You dropped something." Peter's eyes went back to the spot where his bag had landed. The note from Natasha.
Peter quickly snatched the letter from the ground, breathing a sigh of relief without noticing. "What is it?" Karen inquired.
"It's a letter from," Peter paused, fidgeting with the paper in his hand. He wanted to call her Mom, but he couldn't. The word refused to leave his mouth, regardless of whether or not it was true. "From Natasha. She said she wrote it before she left. Again." His mind tried desperately to find a memory of her. To find anything at all. But there wasn't one; she was a stranger to him.
"Have you read it?" Karen dragged him back to reality. She noted how his heart rate picked up again, but not from anger like when he demanded Batroc's location. The spiderling was anxious about the lack of a relationship with the woman who gave birth to him.
"No." He shrugged. "I mean, I can't imagine it says anything that makes this feel any better." Peter grimaced at his own pessimism. Of course, he wanted there to be something in the handwritten note that would help him understand why she left. But that didn't mean whatever explanation she gave was going to suffice. For all he knew, the note could be a total lie. He grimaced again.
"I think..." Karen began and suddenly stopped like she wasn't sure what to say about the letter. "I think you should read it. Agent Romanoff wouldn't have given it to you if she didn't think it would help you understand." Her sensors quickly scanned it. "Judging by the deterioration of the paper, she's been carrying it for well over a decade." A prized possession of the now-famous spy, Karen surmised. A tether to the baby she'd left behind.
"A decade." Peter thought about it silently and began unfolding the note. How many thousands of times had she thought of him? His hands trembled slightly, anxious for whatever the letter might say.
A sudden memory of her voice, the one from his nightmare, rushed into his mind as he read the first line.
Hey there, little one.
"Wait, Natasha is the kid's Mom?" Happy and Pepper sat at the table in Happy's apartment with Tony and listened to him explain his predicament. Happy knew Peter and Natasha rather well.
One was a sweet, innocent kid who wanted nothing more than to leave the world a better place than he'd found it. A smile came to his face when he thought about the boy. Happy felt privileged to be a part of the teenager's life. Watching Peter grow into a true Avenger made the constant texts at all hours of the day and night worth it.
The other..? A master assassin and a master manipulator. Someone who was known the world over for her espionage. The 'forehead' of security had known the Black Widow for close to a decade. He watched her best a dozen men in combat and helped battle an alien army that had come to conquer the planet with a demigod. Saying she was an impressive young woman was an understatement. But for her to be a Mother to Peter Parker? A mentor to Spider-Man alongside Tony? To be a Co-parent with him? Happy was less than confident in either of them being able to do that.
"Tony." Pepper had been uncharacteristically quiet when Tony was talking about the situation he found himself in. She knew her lover well. Well enough to know how much Peter meant to him. But that love didn't change who Tony was as a person or change his distrust for Agent Romanoff. "Did you drag her away from that boy?" Pepper asked with a sigh.
Tony's averted gaze and shameful silence answered her question. "Tony, God damnit." She stood from her spot and buried her face in her hands. Pepper had only met the spiderling a few times but she'd gotten well acquainted with his past. Tony had spent hours poring over the tragedies that had marred his rather short life. A plane crash claimed the lives of his parents at just 6. Then his Uncle Ben, at 14, was shot dead in the street. Over the little money, he had in his wallet.
Tony stared at her in disbelief. "What?" Tony finally responded. "You're siding with Romanoff? You know how dangerous and unpredictable she is!" Tony argued his side, but all 3 of them knew it was more to reassure himself. A desperate attempt to curb the guilt he felt in the core of his being.
Pepper had never been terribly fond of Natasha, having had the woman infiltrate their lives to report on Tony to Fury. Natasha's flirting with the man she loved at the beginning didn't help either, even if it was just the young spy's way of testing him. But regardless of all of that, Pepper respected Natasha. "I'm not taking her side, and you know it, so cut the bull shit." She didn't try to curb any of her anger with him. "Peter needs her, and you have NO right to keep them apart." Tony was a notorious control freak, and it was one of the many reasons he became the Iron Man.
"He needs me too!"
"He needs you BOTH." Happy finally spoke. It wasn't a yell, but it was loud enough to get the attention of Pepper and Tony. Happy was used to Tony's egotistical and selfish nature. And he was used to Natasha's 'do it on my own attitude. But this was bigger than them. Peter's needs were more important than the power struggle going on between the two heroes. "Peter's a good kid who's had a hard life." Happy paused. "You two being at each other's throats is the last thing he needs."
"He deserves better," Pepper affirmed.
Tony stayed silent; the feeling of guilt that he'd been trying desperately to repress came back to the front of his mind. "Are Romanoff and I REALLY better?" His train of thought was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. "Steve Rogers." Tony sighed, glad to have an out of the conversation but having no desire to speak to Steve Rogers.
"What is it?" He asked, leaving the room.
Steve held back a sigh. He wasn't surprised by the harshness in Tony's voice. Cap brushed it off; he knew Tony was still angry with him. Not that he could blame him. "We may have found something." Tony perked up.
"What did you find?" Tony could feel adrenaline hitting his bloodstream at the mere thought of catching the fugitive. "Do you know where Batroc is?" Steve staved off a laugh. Tony and Natasha were more similar than either of them would ever admit, but it was on full display when it came to the spider-boy.
"Unfortunately, no," Steve took a seat at his desk, finding it completely untouched. "But we traced the house that P-" He stopped himself from saying the name. He was certain Tony knew who Peter's Mother was, but he didn't assume Tony would take kindly to him knowing that. "We traced the house back to a man named Thomas Mathis. Barton, Romanoff, and I went to investigate, and he's hiding something." Cap wished he had more information. Knowing something in your bones and being able to prove it was very different. Tony stilled, processing what Steve had just said.
"Please tell me you didn't confront him..."
Anxiety had been a staple of Natasha's life for as long as she could remember. Not debilitating, but just an ever-present feeling of uneasiness that lingered in her stomach and chest. But not even the years of coping with it could prepare her for the anxiousness she felt after her freakout at Mathis' apartment. "That was stupid." Natasha cursed herself as she walked hastily to the old living quarters.
Avenger's Tower wasn't Natasha's home anymore; it wasn't anyone's home. But entering her old room and finding it exactly how she left it made her heart skip, just a little. The idea that Tony couldn't bring himself to clear the bedroom of her belongings made her smile. Well, pay someone to clear her room.
"Maybe he doesn't hate me after all." Natasha thought with a smile as she planted her face into the pillow on the bed. It was short-lived, remembering how he'd flexed his figurative muscle and dragged her away from Peter that very morning. Her anger was dulled by the feeling that his suspicion was justified. "If you were Tony, would you trust you?" The answer to that question was an emphatic no. It didn't make Tony's abuse of his power okay, but it made it more... Understandable.
The fact was Natasha knew that Peter deserved better than her, and he had better. May Parker may not be Peter's Mother, but she'd been raising him for the better part of 10 years. Natasha shoved her face further into the pillow. She was used to being confident in her ability to do anything and be great at it with little effort. Natasha was venturing into uncharted territory when it came to motherhood.
Before Natasha realized it was happening, she was drifting off to sleep.
"Mommy loves you, little one," Natasha said to the toddler in front of her as she tucked him into his bed. She couldn't help but see his Father in his big brown eyes. "Always remember that." The boy smiled slightly as she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Natasha knew that if he remembered her at all, this would be what he remembered. She liked that idea, even if it was bittersweet.
Soft footsteps echoed behind her. "Are you finished?" Madame B called out, her voice oddly distant. Natasha nodded her response, still focused on her now sleeping baby. "They're coming for you, you know that, don't you." Natasha finished tucking the blanket around him and turned towards Madame B. The spy and her mentor shared a knowing look, the United States was coming for her. No one evaded them forever.
"Will you promise to let him have a normal life?" Natasha, to even her own amazement, wasn't afraid. Not for herself, that is. Her son deserved more of a life than what she had been given. "To give him to someone who will love him, the way he deserves to be loved?" There was an obvious desperation in the assassin's shaky voice.
"It is time to go." The blonde woman ignored the question.
BANG
Natasha's head shot up off the pillow and her hand reached instinctively for the pistol she used to keep under her nightstand. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Tony's voice finally brought her back to reality and away from her clumsy attempt to grasp a weapon that wasn't there. She didn't respond, still in a state of shock from her dream, or memory rather and her rude awakening. "You gaggle of idiots confront a potential suspect, and you assault him!?" Tony asked though he already knew what they'd done.
Natasha curled herself into the blanket that she'd unknowingly crawled under during the night. Natasha leveled a tired glare at him. "Piss off, Stark." She responded shortly, her head dropping back onto the pillow. If it didn't directly involve Peter, she wasn't interested in discussing it with Tony.
"Natasha Romanoff!" Tony grabbed the end of the blanket and yanked it off her like she was a child refusing to get up for school. "This is serious!" Natasha's tired green eyes finally shot open. "Are you trying to bring Ross down on us?" Tony scolded. Ross was already suspicious of Romanoff and Stark, and if he got wind of Cap and Clint working with Tony again it'd be bad news. For all of them.
"Seems like you'd want him helping you find Batroc and not us," Natasha put her head back on the pillow. "Isn't he the gold standard for the law?" She could hear the bitterness in her own voice.
"Ross doesn't care about an escaped pirate and you know it." Thaddeus was far more interested in bringing in Captain America and the Winter Soldier than really anything else. Proving to the world that the Avengers, and any other advanced being, were dangerous was an obsession for him. He'd pounce on Tony any chance he got. "If we all end up on the Raft, then Batroc gets away and no one else will catch him." Tony wasn't keen on spending the rest of his life in arguably the most secure facility on the planet.
"He's right, Natasha." Steve, who had been listening from the other room chimed in as he leaned against the doorframe. "We need to be more calculated and calm in our approach than that." He spoke in his usual calm demeanor as slid past Tony to enter the room.
Natasha stared at him blankly for a moment. "Okay, Mr. Aiding-and-abetting, why don't you hop down off your high horse?" She couldn't help but scoff at Steve and Tony for chastising her for not being forward-thinking enough. Considering Tony had created an AI that tried to destroy mankind, and Steve had helped a wanted war criminal escape, regardless of whether or not he was innocent.
The room went quiet, and Natasha's stomach turned over when she thought of her actions. It was stupid. She knew it, and her partners knew it. "I fucked it up, didn't I?" Natasha finally vocalized her own feelings on the situation. Never before had she been so compromised, and out of control of her own emotions.
"No, Natasha, you didn't mess everything up," Cap assured her, doing his best to not scold her language. "We just need to be smarter about it when we confront him next time." The eternal optimist that was Captain America spoke with confidence. They'd get their mark, sooner or later.
It was a sharp contrast to Tony and Natasha, who were both glass half empty kind of souls.
Tony found Steve's optimism equally annoying and charming, but he kept any snarky comments to himself. "If we get another chance." Tony thought, rolling his eyes.
"If we get another chance." Natasha, again the eternal pessimist, shook her head. "And that's a BIG fucking if."
"You are a soldier and killer. Nothing less. Nothing more." The words of Batroc's Father echoed in his mind.
For many years Batroc had used the words of his own Father to justify what he'd become. He shook his aching head free from the memory and stared at a line of 25 mercenaries that had been brought to the warehouse. Ex-special forces, varying from Rangers to Spetsnaz, they'd collectively spilled blood on just about every continent on Earth.
None of them knew who the target was going to be, or why, or even when for that matter. But the great thing about hired guns was that they didn't care to know any information that wasn't absolutely necessary to the task at hand. "Our target is the Stark Holliday Fundraiser, on Christmas Eve." He looked for any signs of shock or uncertainty, the same as he did with his Zealots. Nothing. Not even a flinch.
Georges smirked, he missed working with professionals. Not to say he didn't appreciate Hammer for getting him out of prison or the United Orders' devotion to their God.
"The event is being held at the Tavern on the Green, in Central Park." He began, pacing in front of the men. "We're going to storm the event and use the confusion and mass panic to our advantage." Georges held off the smile at the thought. "By the time the sun rises on Christmas day, Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark will be dead. Do your jobs well, and you will all be rich beyond your wildest dreams."
"Excuse me," One of the men spoke up. Batroc's eyes found a man, not young, but not old whose eyes were fixed on him. Georges nodded for him to continue. "I realize we're all seasoned warriors here." He gave Batroc a knowing look. The man knew exactly who he was, but didn't say it. "But we're attacking Iron Man, with-" He glanced up and down the line of men. "25 men?" A fair point. Whole armies had tried and failed, to kill the Avengers.
Batroc thought about how to respond. "We won't be alone, you'll find that the Avengers have many enemies." A few of the men exchanged looks. That was an obvious, and an evasive answer to the mercenary's question.
"Care to elaborate on that?"
"No." The two stared at each other, neither shying away from the confrontation. Batroc smirked, and with one swift motion upholstered his pistol. Bang! The man collapsed to the floor, gasping for air and desperately trying to stem the blood pouring from the bullet in his heart. "Do not misinterpret the relationship you have with me." His eyes traveled across the row of men, who were now standing at attention. "We are not equals here; I employed you to do a job, not to ask questions." Bang. The man fell forward and went limp.
"The man who brought you here, Quinn, will take a list of any weapons and equipment you may need or want." He paused, watching the blood seep out onto the white floors. "Dismissed." Quickly the soldiers of fortune went to Quinn who was standing a few steps back from Batroc.
Killing the man may have been a bit overboard. But he felt compelled to make a statement to them. He would not be crossed or questioned by them. Unlike the girl from the United Order who could never truly be a threat to him, these men could be a threat.
Hey there, little one.
I don't know if you'll remember or not, and part of me hopes that you won't. And you're too young to really understand what's going on right now. So I'm writing this for you, and I hope maybe you'll understand why I'm not around. And maybe you'll forgive me, one day.
Life has a funny way of punishing us for our mistakes. My punishment was being given a gift that I never a million years could I deserve. You are that gift. I'm watching you play as I write this, and I can tell you there is no heaven that could match the happiness that it brings me. Or the happiness it brings me to see your little face light up when you see me after I've been gone for a long time. Something I won't get to see again.
But in that happiness lies my punishment; I won't get to watch you grow up... Because of the things I've done... Because of what I am. I'm not sure if knowing it's my fault makes me more or less bitter, not that it makes any difference now.
There's so much I want to tell you. What I would have named you if they'd let me. Who your Father is. Who I REALLY am, or was, I suppose. And I'm sure you'll have questions of your own, and I'm so fucking sorry that I won't be there to answer them. God knows I want to be. But I'm sure he knows you deserve better.
I only have one more day with you, and we're running out of time, but I hope you read this, one day. And I hope you understand. And if you can't forgive me, well I guess I can't blame you.
Know that your Mommy loved you with all her heart from the very first moment she laid eyes on you. And that I am going to miss you, so much more than I could ever explain to you in a letter.
Goodbye, little one.
Peter read the letter a dozen or so times, his chest tightening with every read. "Did she think she was going to die? Is that why she left?" Peter questioned, clutching the letter to his chest without noticing. "I need to call her..." He said, snatching his backpack and searching for his cell phone. She needed to know that he wasn't angry with her. Bitter maybe, but not angry.
"Call who?" Karen questioned, noting the spike in his heart rate.
"My-" He stopped before he could finish. Peter still couldn't bring himself to call her Mom. The word wouldn't leave his mouth in reference to Natasha Romanoff. "I need to call Natasha." Peter nearly shattered his phone when he found it, losing control of his strength for just a moment.
The phone rang, and rang, for what felt like an eternity to the spider-boy. "Please pick up..."
Natasha stared at her ringing phone, taking a minute to process the name on the screen. 'Peter Parker.' A wave of happiness and a wave of anxiety hit the Black Widow. "Peter?" She answered. "What's wrong?" Natasha's mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario. It always did.
Suddenly his mind was blank. "W-What? Oh, n-nothings wrong." Once again Peter was anxiously stumbling over his words. "I just wanted-" Peter wanted to tell her that he forgave her because there wasn't actually anything to forgive. And she'd been right, he had questions of his own. A million and half of them it seemed, but he'd open his mouth to speak and the words refused to come. Leaving an increasingly frustrated Peter standing there with his mouth open.
"Peter?" Natasha finally spoke again.
"Come on Parker! Say something!" He internally screamed at himself. "I called just to say goodnight." It wasn't entirely a lie, but it was far from what he wanted to say.
Natasha felt a smile spread across her face. She opened her mouth to respond, the words I love you on the tip of her tongue. But her mind went back to that morning, the memory of him recoiling from her touch still fresh in her mind. "Goodnight kiddo, sleep tight." She waited quietly for him to end the phone call, refusing to hang up until he did. To her surprise and delight, he didn't. "Hey, did you want to come to the Fundraiser?" She offered, hoping for the boy to say yes.
"Do you guys want me there?" Peter wasn't used to being invited to anything. Let alone a Stark fundraiser.
"Of course we do, Peter." Natasha took the liberty of speaking for her and Tony. She wanted Peter there and didn't care what Stark thought about it.
"I'd love to go."
Author's note: I'll end chapter 9 here, and thank you everyone for your patience with my update speed! As always a few things I wanted to talk about. I wasn't actually planning on putting the letter in the story but I think I've talked about it too much to NOT have it in here somewhere so I decided to do it in this chapter. Also, I wanted to delve into the emotions I thought Peter and Natasha would be feeling, both of them being afraid of being rejected by the other.
And Happy 1 year anniversary to this story. It's kind of crazy to think I've spent that much time on this but thank you all for your continued support! Please read and review!
