SPOILERS FOR NWH!

A/N: Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker has cured my writer's block. Is there anything this man can't do? As some of you know, I like to overexplain so bear with me on some background details. Ok, so, Maren Bennett is a mutant scientist/ computer specialist working for SHIELD after NWH. Also SPOILERS for NWH, Maren worked alongside Holland's Peter Parker; she functioned as a big sister/ STEM mentor for him during his interactions with SHIELD. Because of this, she also formed friendships with a few Avengers and worked her way up the SHIELD ladder. During NWH, she met the other Spider-Men briefly, but she mostly helped TH's Peter Parker in trying to create a cure for Green Goblin and company. When she was a teenager, Maren completed a brief stint as an X-Man, using her telepathic abilities. She went under the handle "Raggedy", hence the name of the story. (Hint: this trauma will definitely be explored later). Maren is a class four mutant, one tier below Jean Grey. I'm delving back into my comic book lore, and it feels so good.

Songs suggestions for this chapter:

"Seventeen" by Peach Pit

"Stupid Girl" by Garbage

-O-

Chapter One:

"My Soulmate Will Know How to Work an Espresso Machine"

"The last four of his victims truly showed the evolution of his victimology—,"

A bellowing taxi horn yanked Maren from her true-crime podcast stupor.

Maren jumped back onto the curb as the cab nearly sideswiped her. She didn't appreciate being flipped off but, strangely, did understand it. She paused her podcast, feeling judgemental stares on her back before the surrounding crowd's attention also returned to their phones. She straightened her shoulders after the pedestrian light changed, and she crossed with a throng of other New Yorkers trudging to their own nine to fives.

The crowds never bothered her. She enjoyed the anonymity they provided, treasured the whole blank-faces-in-a-crowd vibe. Strangely enough, with such diversity came invisibility. After living in various small towns that suited her mother's sporadic attitude that changed with the wind and at the Xavier gifted school in upstate New York, the city attracted her like it did millions of others, with a job offer and the best bagels within walking distance. Sure, the uneven floorboards in her apartment creaked, and her landlord complained about arthritis in her native Greek, but she liked the life she lived. More than liked really. She actively enjoyed it, more than one particular colleague who still believed the scenery from Queens was better than the mains in Manhattan. Maren grew up in the small towns, but she was certain if she ever left the city, then it would be like forfeiting a part of herself and receiving a counterfeit in return, something diminished and boring.

She crossed the street to the next block, approaching the building on the furthest corner. A digital banner ran across the bottom of the first floor, advertising the new Starbucks pink mango guava something, a celebrity hockey game and the Oscorp sponsored charity gala for St. Judes Children's Hospital. After Stark's sacrifice in the blip, companies like Hammer Tech and Oscorp. lurked in the shadows of everyday advertising. But something twitched in the back of her mind when JJ Jameson popped up with another Spider-Man piece of garbage. A menace who saved old ladies from burning buildings? Unlikely. A kid with a good heart and exceptional upper body strength. More likely.

Tossing her coffee cup in a nearby trash receptacle, her other hand fished in her bag for her ID badge. She stuck the badge in her mouth between her teeth as she pulled her scarf from around her neck. The automatic door slid open while she hung her lanyard around her neck, the embossed symbol of SHIELD R&D reflecting in the lobby's light.

She shed her jacket quickly. It was always too hot here. She wove around men and women in smart business clothes; some of which contained more advanced weaponry than the normal outfit usually allowed. She liked to think she could pick agents out in the crowd. Either that, or she would have to laugh at her lack of spy-dar. She stopped at the mirror in the furthest corner of the lobby. Her fingers found the edge of the gilded frame. Small blue letters flashed in front of her on the glass, a security confirmation of the full-body scan and the retinal chip.

Identity confirmed: Ph.D., Maren Jeanette Bennett. Research and Development, -23rd sub-level.

A faint lock clicked, unnoticeable over the lobby's morning chaos. She looked over each shoulder before she stepped into the mirror, disappearing. It felt like passing through cold water cascading down a tall fountain. The next moment she stood in a glass elevator without the magic of a chocolate factory. Two agents already stood in the elevator car, both in black pantsuits, both looking like they could definitely kill her. Just as well. She didn't care for Mondays either. She nodded in greeting. Both women murmured good morning. The younger one— a dark-skinned woman with closely cropped hair— attempted a smile while the other— a Valkyrie incarnate— returned to her game of solitaire on her phone.

Maren cleared her throat, holding her ID card to the control chip near the elevator doors. An automated voice said:

"Welcome, Doctor Bennett. Directing you to sub-level 23 in approximately ninety-seven seconds,"

The elevator descended rapidly. The first time Maren rode this elevator, her stomach turned. Now her millionth ride, her stomach still protested. Maren admitted she wasn't much fun at a roller coaster park either. More of a bag and drink holder.

The agents stepped off at sublevel 17– security and reconnaissance.

She sang to herself to an old Johnny Cash tune, "I get paid to ask questions, but thank God not those kinds of questions,"

The irony was not lost on her that everything she did in this building was being recorded. It provided a nice thrill without the danger of a rollercoaster. A light ding, and the elevator door opened. She stepped out, pulling a white lab coat from her bag, siding her arms into the sleeves.

"Maren, hey. I thought they had you on nights this week?"

Lindsey Mangrum jogged until she caught up to Maren. She turned her head.

"Oh, hey. Yeah, they do. Graham called in. His kids got the stomach virus or something. Projectile vomiting. They could've left out the gory details, but I assume the gross factors makes it seem more urgent,"

Lindsey gagged, "Please, don't." She wrapped her long ponytail around her neck like a noose briefly. It was a different wig install every other week. She said she liked the reinvention of herself. "You know I can't with the kid puke. I still have recurring nightmares about my cousin Allison's ninth birthday,"

"Was this before or after Bo-bo the Clown?"

Maren saw Lindsey's glare out of the corner of her eye.

"After."

A figure marched between them from behind, and Maren felt the sudden weight of an arm around her shoulders. Resisting the fight response curling inside her chest, she simply picked up the sleeve across her shoulders and lifted it from herself. Lindsey let the arm stay and leaned in further.

Mark laughed, unperturbed. Mark was never perturbed, only cheerful, sociable, and helpful. The three most disgusting qualities to a person who invested most of their lives blending into glass walls.

"Been a while since the OG musketeers have been here at the same time in the morning hours,"

Mark was… cute. He had the smile, the flop of blond hair, the cool wire glasses everyone liked now. But to Maren, he leaned more in the way of a cousin who refused to acknowledge an actual familial relationship in order to get a plus one to the company Christmas party. And by cute, she meant high key and low key creepy all at the same time. Lindsey thought he hung the moon, even though both of the girls knew he thought the moon landing was faked in Albuquerque.

"I avoid mornings at all costs," Maren said. "They're bad for my cardiovascular system,"

"Someone who drinks as much caffeine as you do cannot say that. It's like legal liability," Lindsey said. She looked at Mark. "Isn't it?"

He winced. "That's not the kind of legal stuff I handle. I'm still in the super-powered property damage control sector. Not libel."

Maren turned a steep left. The two kept walking, not seeing Maren's goodbye wave. She thought she heard the "Winter Soldier effect" from Mark, but she wasn't sure.

Motion cameras followed her movements as she walked down the hallway. The glass walls at the beginning of the R&D labs slowly morphed into white concrete walls reinforced with titanium supports. It should have caused her claustrophobia or nightmares about secret government experiments, but Maren had experienced the latter. Those occurred in a different breed of darkness.

Men in black combat attire passed her in the hall, briefly nodding before continuing on their way. Most people could only remain around the radiation for so long according to SHIELD regulations. Quantum radiation was a funny thing— time dilation, advanced aging, psychological madness, the whole shebang. The funny also extended to those with Mutant genetic factors who weren't affected by those pesky little side effects. Like most Jiminy Cricket organizations, SHIELD found legal workarounds that allowed Mutant scientists to work longer hours. Most of the specialized scientists in the quantum labs were mutants — some ferals, elementals, Pyro-kinetics. Maron constituted the one and only telepath and psy-kinetic. She supposed she could relate their hesitancy to a teenage boy refusing to show his mother his computer browsing history. In fact, it was an unspoken rule to not approach the computer specialist who attended the Xavier school for the gifted. Some mutants believed it was elitist or extremist, depending on who you spoke to.

She descended deeper into the center of the level, the floor dipping into a decline. She reached the center of the labyrinth, and the glass walls returned. A room, the length and width of a football stadium, resided on the other side of reinforced glass. A covered observation deck hung above the room for testing.

She stayed at her station on the observation deck running algorithmic simulations on her monitor systems. Which reminded her, she needed to plug in the additional data Magda had brought her about the possible inclusion of multi-verse characteristics in the trans-quantum bridge test for Friday. She wondered if that explained the strange niggling feeling about–

"Doctor Bennett,"

Maren jumped at the voice just as she pulled her badge out for the last security check. The badge rescinded on its retractable line, smacking her on the back of the hand and in the abdomen. She hissed, shaking her hand. "Ouch! Mother-!" Then she remembered. She turned. "Oh, good morning, Dr. Lindh,"

The woman made long-suffering patience look designer. She smiled, her orange-tinted lipstick setting beautifully against her dark skin. "I've examined your calculations. You've got an enormous undertaking on your hands,"

"Wow. You've already looked at them?" Maren retook her badge, scanning herself into the main lab. The door slid open, and Dr. Lindh followed her into the room. "I only sent the report over on Friday,"

"I had some free time over the weekend. You should be proud of yourself. I've never encountered such a radical solution that actually seems applicable. I'll be interested to know how the simulations come to fruition during the tests on Friday,"

A backhanded compliment? Maybe. Still a Lindh compliment? She would commission a postage stamp in memorium. A warm pride flooded her chest at the initial praise before the inevitable anxiety spiked. Her smile dropped. "Friday? Doctor Lindh, I— I'm not sure if that would be wise?"

"Why?" She cast a feline stare over her shoulder. Maren imagined this is what Mufasa felt like at family holiday dinners when Scar brought his hyenas for the first time. Doctor Olivia Lindh could be considered an impressive woman when passed by on the street. Long black locks draped down her back, and her tinted sunglasses created envy for looks and for their functionality as a smart tablet. Maren knew Lindh was a mutant, but she never quite got the guts to physically ask or to psychically pry.

"Because we're only in the initial phase of testing the bridge. These calculations take theory into account, not the actual risks and dangers. Which are definitely going to pop up,"

Lindh gave a considering hum. "I see your point. But the rewards outweigh the risks. I've spoken with Maria Hill, and she agrees. Perform a risks analysis to see what we could be up against when testing with the multiverse variables. Let me know what you find,"

With that, Lindh strode into her office, immediately switching on her holo-designer and beginning her own work. Maren just stared at her absence for a few moments before slowly turning around.

"It's too early for this,"

-O-

Her next stop was the espresso machine. She fiddled with a few levers and buttons. Steam exploded, and Maren leaned back. She felt Magda approach behind her. Her psychic energy was unmistakable, a cool purple tendril of energy that wound around the room.

"You know, the love of my life is going to know how to work one of these,"

The older feral woman chuckled to herself. "I thought you said they would be able to work an electron microscope?"

"I keep a running list,"

Magda stood apart from the other scientists in that she enjoyed spending time with all her colleagues, including Maren. Maren wondered if that was a part of being a canine feral, the whole pack bonding imperative as necessary as life itself. But she found it more comforting to believe that the grandmotherly figure simply enjoyed her company. With a gray, fur-covered hand, she pushed Maren to the side. Magda once joked that she was more closely related to the Big Bad Wolf than the granny in Little Red Riding Hood. Maren nearly had an asthma attack laughing.

"Better let me, dear," she scooped the ground coffee, poured water, and steamed milk before presenting Maren with a steaming latte. She spotted the foam heart with a faux disdain.

"Now you're just showing off," she said, and Magda smiled. Taking a sip, she had to admit, "it's a good latte though,"

Magda leaned against the counter next to Maren. "Why are you here so early? I thought you were allergic to sunlight,"

"Ha-ha. Someone's feeling spicy with their words today," Maren offered a half-hearted shrug. "Graham called in, and I didn't have anything better to do... So,"

"You're here," Magda turned to make a coffee for herself.

"I'm here," she stepped to the side when the steam from the espresso machine got too close. "Besides, the tests I was running with the new data came back with some interesting avenues of a possible investigation,"

"Hmm. Ok. And that's why Olivia zeroed in on you when you walked in?"

"Zeroed in feels a little strong,"

She chuckled softly. "Doesn't matter if it's the right word,"

"It had to do with the preliminary calculations you sent last week,"

Magda frowned, the lines around her mouth curving downward. "The Multiverse inclusion data?" Maren nodded. "That could also cause a nuclear implosion the size of a dwarfed black hole?"

Maren clicked her tongue against her teeth. "That's the one. I mean, given the fact that we're trying to replicate a magical rainbow bridge used by a Norse god and other assorted company. Doctor Foster has a good report on the whole experience, as well as a list of possible uses," Maren shrugged. "I feel like black hole ranks low on the priority scale," at Magda's continued severity, Maren grew more serious. She stood straighter, continuing, "But I told her about the analysis of the risks that I would be doing before any testing,"

"I'm sure that didn't slow her in the least," Magda glanced over her shoulder to Olivia's office.

"No. But it would slow me. And the rest of the office."

The steel in Maren's spine only bent so much for her people-pleasing tendencies before the old "protect and serve" from the Xavier training took over. She remembered putting on the ridiculous costume for the cause too, remembered even more clearly the day she put it away to keep everyone safe. SHIELD became the new safe haven for others like her, even if they didn't understand her mutant differences. Saving the known universe outranked her need for others to like her.

Magda smiled knowingly, patting Maren on the arm. "Good. I'm glad to hear it," she placed her cup on a glass saucer. "When you have a free minute, come over, and we'll enter in the new calculations,"

"Yeah, sure. We can do that,"

"Maren, take it easy with the caffeine. I don't want you to overdo the night shift this evening,"

"Are you kidding? I live for the night," she took a sip, saying to herself. "Still a good latte,"