Now that Peter had befriended Ned Leeds, he finally had somebody to hang out with whenever the Avengers left him alone.
No offense to Friday or anything like that, but the towers A. I wasn't the best conversationalist.
Peter was still learning about the way things are in this world, and he supposed Friday wasn't very good at simplifying things for the dumber lifeforms because everything was already so simple to the computer. Peter was just glad he had another person his age to talk to.
Unfortunately, his luck ran out when Ned went out of town with his family to visit his Aunt and Uncle.
Around noon the tower received a message regarding a new assignment. From the sound of it, Peter figured, the mission wasn't too difficult. Apparently some old Hydra weapons base needed its operations to be shut down and inventory seized. Could be tricky, but Peter figured he was good enough to help, plus he missed his beloved web shooters. He thought maybe now he would be allowed to help with at least the smaller missions, but he was told to stay behind, and with Ned gone, he was left to his own devices again.
At least this time he wasn't completely alone. The mission was fairly simple enough that only Cap, Tony, and Clint was dispatched. Peter had a feeling the only reason Clint was brought along was to make sure that Cap and Tony didn't end up killing each other on the job.
With Thor gone doing Asgardian business, the only other person in the tower was Bruce Banner, who mainly holed himself up in the lab whenever he was in. On the bright side, he at least had Natasha. She had decided to pop into the tower that day. He figured he could find a way to trap her into keeping him company.
turned out he didn't need to. When he asked if she would like to watch Star Wars with him, she simply shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Got nothing better to do."
They didn't even watch the movie really.
Peter was too busy trying to decipher the woman sitting next to him.
Peter was good at reading people, which was ironic because he was seriously awkward. But despite that, he could feel the tension flowing off of Natasha like a river, and it was making him nervous.
"Are you ok?" Peter asked her as they lounged on the sofa.
Natasha turned towards him. He expected her to brush him off like she always did, but she did the opposite.
"Thinking," she told him.
"About what?"
"You."
Peter frowned, feeling a bit nervous. Why would Natasha be thinking about him? Was this about the time Clint had encouraged him to replace the body wash with body paint? Perhaps she was trying to conjure up a method to exact her revenge. It became clear that prank wars were common occurrences in the Avengers lives. Although, Peter had learned that it was Clint Barton who was usually the one who started them.
"Clint made me do it-"
"Relax," Natasha said, cutting him off before he could start blubbering his excuses. "I was just curious about how school was going for you."
He blinked. That wasn't what he had expected. Black Widow probably lived to do a whole bunch of crazy, inexplicable stuff. She didn't seem the type to waste her brain space wondering about how the poor lost boy was doing at school.
Peter decided it was best to humor her. "It was fine." He shrugged. "Different than I thought, the other kids I mean."
"They didn't find you odd?"
"I think some did" Peter admitted. "I felt some people's eyes on me whenever I did something that may have been deemed out of the ordinary, or when I got confused about some things. They have yet to give me trouble about it."
"That's good."
Peter nodded. "Oh, I made a friend. His name is Ned. he liked the same movies I do, and even showed me how to create a ty-flyer out of these plastic bricks called legos."
Natasha chuckled at that. She was mainly remembering the first time Peter had caught Star Wars on the tv. Pepper Potts was at the tower briefing over some changes she was making with Stark industries now that she was in charge. She hadn't known about Peter at that moment, but after Tony had explained the situation she had to happily shown him how to flip through the channels. Star Wars consumed him immediately, and he wouldn't shut up for the rest of the day about lightsabers, stormtroopers, and how stupid Anakin Skywalker was.
That was the first time he had seen him act normal around her. For the first time he seemed like the dorky kid he was supposed to be, but she was still reminded by his unnatural maturity that there was still a lot of rot buried beneath the surface. She was glad he felt comfortable enough to enjoy what was around him right now. she was glad he seemed to trust them. He deserved to let loose some.
"Did you have any friends in school?" he asked her.
The corners of her mouth dipped down slightly. "I never went to school."
"Oh?"
"I was raised somewhere that focused more on sharpening the physical and psychological aspects of your being. It wasn't really fun like your school might be."
"It's not that fun," Peter mumbled. "I mean, some parts are, but it can be boring."
Natasha knew for a fact that her childhood was far from boring.
"Growing up I wasn't allowed to have friends," she admitted. She was internally scolding herself. She never really talked about her past that much. She only ever talked to Clint and Fury about it. But she kind of trusted the kid as well. She trusted experience more than anything, she knew this kid had already had a glimpse into her former lifestyle, even if he didn't remember much of it. She couldn't stop herself from talking. "We were all pitted against one another, it was the only way to survive the harsh training that turned me into what I am today. Having friends only bred betrayal, or failure if you hesitate to do what needs to be done."
Peter looked at his hands. She shouldn't have said that, it would remind him of what he had just been rescued from.
"Were you lonely?"
Natasha pursed her lips. She had never thought of herself to be very sentimental. "Perhaps," she decided. "But I kept myself busy so that I could never stop and think or even feel. It made things easier."
"Where you were trained," Peter began, "what were you training for? What kind of things did you have to do?"
Natasha hesitated. She couldn't say. She had been able to tell Clint easy enough, but then again they were close friends, and he never judged her even from the start. But, it felt different this time. The way the kid looked at her, the way he was, made her want to come by the tower more. That was a dangerous thing for somebody like her.
She couldn't help it. She knew how they boy saw her. She had this annoying urge to paint herself in a better light whenever he was around. She didn't want to dissapoint, which is not a word commonly associated with the Black Widow.
Steve had pointed it out to her after five months of him living in the tower. He was the one who drew her attention to the minor details she had missed, things she never thought she would find.
"He's a tough nut," Steve said. "You know how teenagers are. They want to be independent. Peter won't tell you or even admit it to himself, but I've seen the way he acts around you. He strives to impress us all, but he mainly wants to prove himself to you."
"Me?" She scoffed. Cap must be delusional. "Why me, why not the great Captain America or the mighty Thor? "
Steve smirked. "Often younger people can see things that we are blind to. They tend to see little things that knit themselves together into a defining picture. Peter has created his picture about us all, and he's still a kid despite he upbringing. Kids still have natural inclininations."
Natasha cooked her head. "What's your point?"
"My point is he's still prone to the cliche things that he thinks are of value. I've spied him watching you exercise, I've noticed him tagging along on your morning walks, and I've watched him try to spar with you."
"You need to get better at time management, cap." She teased. "Stalking is beneath you."
Steve rolled his eyes. Not even he was immune to Natasha's irritating sarcasm.
"As I was saying, the boy comes from a darkened perspective of this world," Steve said. "You brought him back to the tower and saved him from Hydra, you offered to monitor him for Fury so that he didn't have to hole himself up in Sheild base. Natasha, he's watched you during our training sessions when he thought we weren't looking, he'd read about what the Avengers do for this city from the archives he keeps sneaking into. Peter has been using us as a guide on how to change himself for the better, but he's been watching you the most because despite what he thinks or says, it's obvious he wants nothing more than to be like you."
Natasha let those words sink in. Did Peter want to be like her? The was such a ridiculous idea that Natasha almost laughed, but not quite. That thought was more frightening than assuring.
"He'd be better off if he didn't," Natasha grumbled. "Because I don't want him to be like me."
"You're not so bad," Steve joked.
Natasha thought maybe he was right, but she thought about what she had done before and shook her head.
"I know I'm not a good person," she told him. "I'm just choosing to repent to make up for that."
"All I'm saying is that to him, you are the closest thing he has to a hero," Steve said. "I figure he doesn't get to see too many."
Steve was an annoying jerk.
"Did they make you do super dangerous things like protecting the president?" Peter asked.
Natasha was starting to think Peter had been watching way too many movies.
'No," Natasha said. "Basically we were well-equipped spies."
"Oh, that's kind of cool," Peter said. "You must have been like a woman James Bond before you joined the Avengers to kick butt. That must be why Hydra wanted you guys dead so badly. They were probably tired of having their butts handed to them."
"That's a nice thought, but It wasn't really like that, kiddo."
"No?"
"No," Natasha shook her head. Darn it, she was faltering. why was he making it so hard? Why couldn't she just lie to him? At the very least she should be able to strategically withhold information.
"I was raised in Russia for an operation that most likely had some connections with Hydra. It wouldn't be a surprised."
"So, then what exactly was your job?" Peter asked.
How could she wiggle her way out of this one? If she avoided it she was sure he could catch on. He wasn't stupid, which would only make him want to know about it more.
She didn't have the answers, and she didn't have the time to make one up, because before she could reply a loud POP cut through the tense silence. Before Natasha had enough time to react, a searing pain cut through her shoulder. The sound of shattering glass was mixed with her shout of pain.
In just a drop of a hat, suddenly the normality had ended.
The impact knocked her off the sofa onto the floor, she didn't even need to tell the boy to duck.
Once on the floor, using the sofa as a lousy cover, she removed her hand to see the wound. A hole near her shoulder oozed a sickly red substance. She hissed in pain letting her head drop back.
"Agent Romanoff?!"
Once the ringing In her ears began to fade away, she could make out the kids voice more clearly.
What had just happened?
"Agent Romanoff?" He exclaimed. She felt a shaky hand grip her arm, shaking her, searching for a response. "Natasha!!!"
"Fine!" She managed to croak. " Im fine! Stay down, don't come out no matter what, we're under attack."
Natasha crawled until she could peek around the sofa, in the direction of the bullet. The large windows on the upper levels of the tower have completely shattered, a powerful long-ranged weapon. The shooter wasn't near them, but she had a feeling that the sniper's goal wasn't to kill her...not directly.
She saw the ropes first.
They were suspended over the broken window. Suddenly, humanoid figures dressed in all black began descending down the suspended ropes, breaking through what was left of the windows and, rolling into the sitting area.
The towers security alarms started blaring, the lights started flashing. The rest of the Avengers should be alerted about the intrusion, but it doesn't matter now.
The people who had broken into the tower weren't just any lackeys of Hydra or any of the other threats they had fought before.
The symbols on their belts spoke for themselves.
Black Widow assassins, and they were attacking them directly for the first time since she had left Russia.
When the alarms went off Bruce nearly had a heart attack. He was used to the unordinary, but having a breach in Tony Starks top-of-the-line security was practically unheard of.
"Friday!" Bruce shouted. "What's going on?"
"It appears that the living area has been breached. However, the rest of my security measures have been disabled.
Bruce wanted to strangle Stark. He thought his security was so good that he hadn't even bothered wasting money on the standard override protection. Idiot.
"Romanoff and Peter are currently within close vicinity of the intruders."
Bruce cursed under his breath. He ripped his lab jacket off, setting the goggles he wore inside for the lab down. He didn't know what was going on, but if they had the power to break into the tower then they were no joke. Natasha was deadly, not to be messed with, and that boy had superior inhuman abilities. But there was only so much she could do on her own, and the boy was inexperienced.
He had to get up there.
Natasha reached underneath her shirt for the gun she kept tucked away. She never left without at least one weapon on her, and she almost always had her Widow bites with her. They blended in quite well as some exotic looking pair of bracelets.
Above her, she could see the red laser beams from the scope of their guns. How many were there? She couldn't quite get a good look. How was this even possible? She destroyed the red room. She killed dreijkov, she remembered it so vividly. There should be no other black widow assassins left.
Yet there was no mistake about it. But something was off. From what she could see the closest Widow, the one searching the back area of the sitting room had naturally broad shoulders and a more muscular build. If she didn't know any better she'd say that assassin was a male.
But, Dreijkov only trained girls.
What was happening?
It didn't matter, she needed to get out of here, she needed to get Peter out of here.
Her shoulder was still in serious pain. she wouldn't be able to hold or shoot the gun properly, but she also couldn't afford to miss.
She gritted her teeth. She'd be making him a target. However, their options were low.
She slide the gun over to Peter, who was lying with his head tucked low, fear in his eyes. He probably thought that it was Hydra soldiers who were finally here after all this time to take him back. They'd punish him for defecting.
Peter looked at the gun lamely.
"I can't shoot," she whispered. "If they find us, I'm going to need you to get us out of trouble."
Peter looked like he had swallowed something foul. She didn't have time to guess what he was thinking.
Natasha spotted a bookcase nearby they could hide behind. They'd have to try to scurry around the floor, finding cover where they could until they could reach the exit. They could make it out of the tower. She'd go back in though once Peter was out, she couldn't leave Bruce.
She turned to Peter. he nodded at her, telling her he understood the plan.
Quickly and quietly they crawled over to take cover behind the bookcase.
The black widows were getting closer, checking and surveying the room thoroughly, she should know.
They would check off the list of possible hiding places quickly, they didn't have much time.
She must have jinxed them because suddenly, the bookcase that was shielding them was thrown out the way, crashing onto the floor onto splinters.
The barrel of a gun was aimed directly at them.
Natasha didn't even have time to react at all, and what was even more alarming was that Peter had failed to use the gun she had given him. Instead he went for a more dangerous, direct approach
Peter lunged first. He grabbed the gun right as the Widow pulled the trigger. It managed to miss her, but now the other widows who had been searching the room could see them clear as day. They aimed their guns at Peter who was in a tug of war with a black widow assassin. Natasha fought the pain down and lept over the fallen bookshelf. She dropped as they began unloaded their guns in her direction. A bullet hit her side, narrowly missing the vital organs. She groaned but didn't stop. She pulled a knife from her pant leg, throwing it at the nearest Widow.
It hit her, right in the eye, causing the widow to scream in agony giving Natasha the time to tackle her to the floor and take her discarded weapon.
Peter had managed to disarm one of the black widows, she caught on a glimpse of the face, and her suspicions were right. The black widow Peter was fighting was a shaggy-haired young man. That was new, but she didn't have time to question it.
Natasha fired her gun at another widow. The widow dodged and fired back, but Natasha was ready to dip. Dodging bullets wasn't easy. In fact it was nearly impossible, which was why she had learned to read body language, and maneuver right before they pulled the trigger.
Natasha fried her gun rapidly and accurately, hitting the other back window several times, and sending her to the floor. Dead.
Suddenly the gun was knocked out of her hand. It fell on the floor. Her own bloody throwing knife had impaled it. She doubted the gun would work properly now.
She turned around. The other widow, the one whose eye Natasha had peirced with the same knife had managed to get on her feet.
Blood dripped down her face like tears.
She had to help Peter, black widows were much more advanced, and he wouldn't be able to handle it, even with his superhuman abilities, but first, it looked like she was going to have to go hand-to-hand combat with her.
Meanwhile, Peter couldn't help but feel terrified.
He hadn't expected this newfound peace to be shattered so quickly and seemingly out of nowhere. That was foolish on his behalf, letting his guard down. He shouldn't have taken advantage of it. He was determined not to go down without a fight.
When Natasha had given him the gun he just knew he couldn't bring himself to do it, not again. He should have known that it was too good to be true. He should have known that this would all end. The peace was over, and the retribution was catching up with him.
The guy that he was fighting was far too good.
They traded blows. Peter's strength snapped the male Widow's head back, but the widow's experience and mastery trumped his own.
The widow assassin kicked him in the torso, knocking him onto the floor. He pulled a knife from his belt and lunged forward. Peter had just enough time to roll out of the way, narrowly missing being impaled by the blade.
Peter's opponent was relentless.
He stabbed again, Peter was able to roll right on time thanks to his enhanced senses. It didn't stop there. His opponent kept coming at him with the knife, his strikes so quick that it seemed like a flash of silver across Peter's vision.
Peter recognized that he was in way over his head, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Peter had been trained to use his work as an outlet for his emotions. His fear and anger only made him more desperate to get out of here alive. He let out a strangled scream before he kicked the widow as hard as he could. He fell back and Peter used the opportunity to quickly get to his feet.
He stalked over to the widow. He couldn't give him enough time to recover. But Peter wasn't fast enough, and he hadn't anticipated the widow to have that much endurance. In no time at all, the widow was back on his feet and they were trading blows again.
Peter decided to go for a different approach. He made it look like he was going for a right hook but instead sidestepped around the widow. It was a similar tactic that Natasha had used when they had fought on that rooftop. It's what gave her the edge. He wrapped his arms around his neck and kicked his calves to bring his struggling opponent to his knees. Peter began to squeeze as hard as he could, putting everything he had into his chock hold.
The sweat was matting his hair down, blurring his vision. He didn't relent. He couldn't lose his focus.
All at once he was suddenly returning to the boy he once was before. Hydra's secret weapon who didn't know when to quit. His instincts were stronger than his moral.
The widow grunted and tried to get up. He kept punching Peter over in the face to get him to relinquish the hold. It only served to get the taste of blood into his mouth.
He kept punching, Peter let out a strangled sob but didn't let go. Until suddenly he was lifted into the air by his shirt. He screamed, fighting to be put down. He wasn't done yet. He had to finish the job. He couldn't go back, he couldn't.
He turned his head.
The Hulk was there, breathing heavily. He carefully set Peter down to the side before gripping the widow into his giant fist. He threw the widow to the opposite wall, leaving a crumbling dent in the wall, but successfully knocking the widow into unconsciousness.
Natasha had managed to take down the last black widow and allowed herself a moment to catch her breath.
She looked for Peter.
He was kneeling on the floor, blood and tears staining his face.
This was a bad idea, she couldn't believe she had let this happen. How could she have been so stupid as to turn a blind eye to the inevitable.
Now look at them.
Natasha shook her head, gulping in lungfulls of air.
She didn't know what was happening, but she knew she had to find out, and despite her better judgment she knew, no matter what, that Peter was coming with her. She wouldn't allow him to leave her side, despite the danger.
She had hoped that it wasn't too late for Peter to escape this. But, she qas only lying to herself. She should have trained him more instead of neglecting it because of her ridiculous vision. Peter would be dead for sure if she didn't do this.
Natasha stumbled over to Peter while Hulk hovered over them, obviously still ticked off.
She was hurting bad, but he was hurting more.
"Kid," she gasped. "We gotta go, we gotta go talk to Fury."
Peter shook his head. "I don't want to go back."
"You're not going back," Natasha assured him. "You hear? I'm not going to let that happen ok? We have to move though, it's not safe here, alright?"
Peter nodded, then he looked at Natasha his brow knitted together. "You're hurt."
"I'm gonna be ok," she said. "Let's get going. The sooner we handle this the sooner you can get back to watching Star Wars."
"Ok," Peter sniffed getting to his feet.
"I'm going to need you to keep going for a little bit," she huffed. It was a terrible thing to ask, but it was a necessity.
Peter didn't think he had any other choice but to follow her. Besides, she was the only person in the world who seemed to give a darn about what happens to him.
