A/N: Also, this is just a story I'm writing for fun. This is not groundbreaking literature to write peer-reviewed articles for. Don't come for me and my ADHD-fueled attempts at logic. I want everyone to have fun with me because I think all of us are just tired of thinking right now. Everything is terrible, but Andrew Garfield isn't.

Chapter Three: "I Have Problems with Authority"

Songs:

"So Alright, Cool, Whatever" by the Happy Fits

"jealousy, jealousy" by Olivia Rodrigo

"Girls Can't Play Guitar" by BONES UK

-O-

Seven Months Later…

Maren walked past the scorched door of the permanently closed quantum labs. Radiation gages near the door read near zero, thankfully. A couple of men in white coats sat near the entrance, taking their weekly data readings. She wondered what wrong they had done to deserve that assignment. She offered a sympathetic smile as she walked past.

She tried not to think about that night. The PTSD from the migraine afterward was enough not to inspire her to reflection. She was grateful for psychic filters installed at every SHIELD facility at the behest of Stephen Strange and Charles Xavier. The psychic blast she emitted after the new Peter's entry had been enough to incapacitate any number of harmless civilians. Maren believed it was a miracle that Peter had survived at all, but at least, the filters kept Parker's identity a secret. But after she came to in the SHIELD medical ward, she was ready to tear apart her Peter- the Peter who chose the memory spell. She admitted it was grandly heroic. But incredibly stupid, as most heroic things are.

She found him in his one-room apartment after practically knocking the door down. When he opened the door, he found one livid Maren Bennett. She couldn't hold up the act after he started crying when he realized she remembered him. They spent thirty minutes on the floor in the doorway.

"You live here?" she had asked when his rambling explanations stopped. "It's so sad. What do you live on? Angst and ramen?"

He had laughed into her shoulder. She took him back to SHIELD headquarters where Maria Hill, Peter 3, Ned, and Michelle Jones waited for him in Fury's old office. Michelle had promptly clocked Peter in the face, screaming,

"You didn't come and find me, you dumbass! You promised- mmfff,"

If Peter hadn't had the good sense to kiss MJ after he came back into punching range again, she probably would have murdered him. Hill only broke them apart when it started to get indecent. While Maren made a show about gagging at the time, she secretly thought the whole encounter was sweet. And also hilarious when Michelle frickin' Jones dragged him back to Boston and MIT by the earlobe, dryly congratulating Peter 3 on becoming New York's new Spider-Man until they graduated. So what. There was still crime in Boston the last time anyone checked. Ned held up his phone as they left and said,

"Hey, dude. Did you see that you're trending on Twitter? That new costume is rad though,"

It provided entertaining fodder for JJ Jameson when he claimed there to be a Spider-Man epidemic after another one popped up in Boston. But the new Peter in town still possessed the same Parker recklessness, clearly displayed after spray painting a unibrow and mullet onto one of Jameson's billboards in Times Square.

Continuing down the hallway, Maren chugged the rest of the coffee in her cup, tossing it in a nearby trashcan. Wiping the excess from her lip, she turned her attention to her phone, ignoring a few intrigued stares. Maren rarely emerged from her computer lab these days if she could help it. The "Incident" as she called it was interesting for inter-office gossip, especially uber-classified gossip. Before she was transferred to the DC offices, Magda checked on her every few days. Most of the people she worked with in the quantum labs had been transferred out one by one over the last several months. If not for her connection with the two Spider-Men, she would have expected the same for herself.

She found she liked her new assignment post- data analytics on cyber security and other possible threats, especially in the mutant realm- even found she liked her new office partner Dylan, who frequently brought back coffee and interesting behind-the-scenes facts about RuPaul's Drag Race. Magda would have called her job illegal hacking and putting her nose where it didn't belong. She didn't think 'hacking' should count as illegal if done for a government agency.

She slipped into her office, the second to last door on the hall. Dylan had both AirPods in, blaring hip-hop, not noticing she had arrived for the day. She smiled slightly, sliding into her chair and logging into her mainframes. She kept active backdoors into all major corporations, whether they deserved Big Brother watching or not.

Alerts flashed onto the screen as soon as she sat down. She cleaned her glasses on the end of her shirt, leaning closer to read the information.

'Possible data breach located: Oscorp, genetic research, connections to HIVE,'

"Unsurprising," she said to herself, rolling her eyes.

She motioned for the next one to appear on the screen.

'Possible weapons threat located: HammerTech, nanotechnology, connections to Russian and Serbian organized crime,'

She forwarded that one to the NSA. Hammer's face had the ability to irk her to no end. She flipped her hand for the next alert.

'Missing Child, Suspected Runaway. Sylvie Blaine, 13, African American, mutant.'

A picture appeared next to the bulletin. She was a cute kid with long braids and a shy smile.

Her brow furrowed. She zoomed in on the back of the picture. The Xavier school stood in the far background. She leaned back, letting her hands rest on the desk.

Runaway from the school? She thought. It wasn't unheard of, but it was rare to run away from the sole place where kids could find connections with others like them. Her fingers hesitated above her keyboard. She maintained an alert for possible mutant research on her systems, despite having no clearance to do so. She recalled being that mutant kid who felt like she had no one in the world. With a single keystroke, she sent the alert to her private server.

-O-

The pattern continued every few days. When Maren arrived at work and clocked in for the day, dirty tips about weapons manufacturers and other research would pop onto her screen before a missing report for a mutant child appeared next. The names filled her thoughts while the pictures haunted her varied attempts at sleeping. She sent each one to her private servers. She found little peace in returning home every day as she continued the work she reviewed in her office. Five little faces propelled her forward. Delving into a few underground channels, she took on the handle 'Raggedy', a name she hadn't gone by in years. That name wasn't afraid to wreak havoc when necessary. She hoped no one remembered the face that went along with it.

She came into her office on Monday, wearing tinted glasses to hide the bags under her eyes. She quickly sat in her chair to hide from Dylan's scrutiny. To her dismay, Dylan smelled drama better than RuPaul. He spun her around to face him. He lifted her glasses and gasped.

"Girl, what happened? Your bags have bags. Why you been so quiet?" His eyes widened before he smirked. "This have something to do with the new guy in spandex running around town?"

She hated to say, but she hadn't seen the new guy in spandex for almost three weeks. Fortunately, all information about the new guy in spandex was classified up to its eyeballs. She really needed to stop calling him in the new guy in spandex. It felt strangely like harassment.

"Pfft. No."

He returned to his own chair. "Fine. Don't tell me,"

Maren groaned. "It's not that. I-" she looked between Dylan and her computer screen. "Ok, look,"

He spun in his chair, crossing his legs, placing interlaced fingers atop his knee. He looked at her expectantly before saying, "Speak,"

"It's not about a guy. It's about work,"

"So personally, you're doing terrible. But professionally?"

"Also, terrible," she answered. She put away the tinted glasses, exchanging them for her regular glasses.

His eyes softened a bit. "I'm sure it's not that bad. What's making your face look like this?"

She offered a half-hearted smile, "Ok, so, look at this." she turned in her chair, and he hovered above her as she gathered her data. "I've been getting these alerts. All these kids are runaways, all mutants, below the age of fifteen,"

"All kids of color too?"

She nodded, "Yup. We're checking all the boxes for kids easy to lose in the cracks,"

"So why're our systems picking it up? Isn't this a job for the FBI or other initialed agencies?"

"Well, my parameters are a bit wider than most regulations. Especially when it comes to mutant politics,"

He cocked a brow at her, looking down to the top of her hair.

She continued, "But I think the fact that the disappearances are in close conjunction with certain geographical locations in the city,"

"How do you mean?"

Maren brought up a map of Manhattan, leveling it so it floated in between the two of them. She twisted the 3D model of New York in her palm. Five blue arrows tilted down against five red buildings. "The arrows represent each location where one of the kids went missing, disappearing completely off of CCTV records,"

"And the red buildings?"

"All property managed by one company. They've funneled them through dummy corporations of course, but still. The same company,"

A knock at the door interrupted Dylan's next question.

Lindh's personal assistant stood on the other side of the door. Maren waved her in.

"Hey, Lydia, what's up?"

The girl had a constant furrow on her brow so Maren wasn't concerned until she said, "Doctor Lindh wants to see you in her office, Maren,"

"Me?" her smile faded. "What, why?"

Lydia shrugged, stress weighing down her shoulders. She massaged the back of her neck. "I'm just the messenger. But she told me to walk with you to her office,"

"What did she think I forgot where it was?" Dylan and Maren exchanged a glance. "Yeah, ok." Maren grabbed her bag from her desk and her tablet. "That's fine. I'll see you in a bit, Dylan,"

As she was leaving the room, Dylan asked, "So what was the name of the company?"

Maren paused in the doorway, stopping Lydia a few paces ahead of her. "All roads lead to Oscorp,"

-O-

For a meeting that was arranged with extreme urgency, Maren waited inside Lindh's office for fifteen minutes pacing the floors before the woman breezed into the room with a Prada coat flapping around her ankles. Lindh saw Maren, standing near a coffee table closest to a mid-century couch. She motioned for her to sit across from her desk in the uncomfortable plastic chairs which matched the rest of the mid-century modern decor. At a cursory glance, the office appeared warm and inviting until the visitor noticed off-putting colors and detailed sharpness that was averse to hominess.

The two sat in silence for two eternal moments with the only noise being the small waterfall attached to the far wall in the corner. Maren broke the uncomfortable eye contact first as Lindh cataloged every detail about her. Maren attempted to move into a more comfortable position in her plastic chair. The button on the back of her pants scraped against the hardback, and the noise propelled Lindh to speak.

"I apologize to interrupt your work so early in the day-"

She said this, and Maren started mentally refreshing herself on her resume and CV. In order to make her firing more dignified, Maren interrupted.

"Have I done something wrong, Doctor Lindh?"

Lindh had the audacity to look surprised. "No, of course not. I didn't mean to give that impression." she reconsidered. "But I do understand how you could come to that conclusion,"

"So to be clear, I'm not fired?"

Lindh chuckled, "No. You're not fired,"

Maren slumped further into her chair, her button making that horrendous sound again. "Ok, good. I have two fish and a bearded dragon to feed at home,"

"In fact, I've just come back from a meeting with Maria Hill. We were both speaking about the quality of your work in the new division since," she cleared her throat. "Erhm, well, the incident several months ago. You do wonderful work, Doctor Bennett."

"Thank you, ma'am." she picked at her fingernails in her lap while making hesitant eye contact. "So what exactly is the problem?"

"While examining the data you've brought in, I've noticed an influx of information concerning Oscorp. Agent Hill wants your opinion on their threat level reassessments,"

Her brow rose. "My opinion? As a data analyst?" she said dubiously.

"As one of the top computer security specialists in New York. As well as someone with previous experience working with high-level threats. She's calling a meeting for next week and wants a full workup,"

Under Lindh's heavy gaze, she felt like Damocles' sword hung above her head on one of Peter's webs. "Uh, yeah, sure. I can definitely do that,"

She leaned against her desk, clasping her hands. "And while I realize this is more of an unofficial assignment, I would like to talk to you about something. After the addition of another Spider-Man, it's come to SHIELD's attention that the new Parker views you as a sort of "touchstone" if you will,"

Her heart dropped. Ah, so this was the real reason behind the meeting. Not to talk about the dealings of Oscorp which could possibly be linked to several child disappearances, but to talk about the new guy in spandex. Not to talk about her abilities but about who she knew. She realized that Lindh had been talking during her inner ruminations and tuned back in as she said,

"Perhaps, developing a great conscientiousness of handling some of his more dramatic…"

Maren barked a laugh, "Have you ever tried handling a 28-year-old in spandex…?" Maren's nose wrinkled as she stopped abruptly. "Ok, I realize how that sounds now that I've said it out loud, but-,"

His arrival had been almost like cutting a string attached to a bucket of ice water. The memories returned in tumultuous flashes, but still, not everything was so easily recalled. She had heard of other psychics experiencing similar effects, but knowing someone else shared the same experience didn't make it any less uncomfortable or painful.

Lindh held up her hand. "Yes, thank you. I understand what you mean, but the fact remains that we need more information concerning his dealings,"

Impatience made her blunt, "You want me to snitch,"

Lindh's eyes sharpened while her lips curved into an almost smile. "Of a sort. You wouldn't report to anyone as long as he's staying within his assigned boundaries, as well as keeping in touch with the other Avengers assigned to him,"

As it sounded like the decision had already been made, Maren said, "Fine. I'll do what I can, with the understanding that what he does is necessary for this city with minimal interference from outside sources. Like us."

Lindh's smile sharpened. "Very good. I'll let everyone know,"

"But the fact still remains about Oscorp, Doctor Lindh," she said. "I have reason to believe that—,"

Lindh interrupted. "Bring in the new information you've gathered to the meeting on Wednesday. I'll send Lydia to collect you,"

Her dismissal burned Maren's temper, but she nodded, standing to her feet. "Alright. I'll let you know what I find,"

She felt Lindh's piercing stare against her back as she left the room.

Lindh called after her, "it was good speaking to you, Dr. Bennett. Let me know if you have questions,"

The door closed. As she walked down the hallway, she muttered to herself, "Questions, my ass."