Gotham Knights Chapter 02
"Peter Parker ?" I asked incredulously. I remembered him, Tony's prodigy.
Young, brilliant and impressionable still so full of optimism and hope. Life hadn't worn down that light when I last saw him with his mentor at his side. Joking with each other the need for his mentor's praise and approval so clearly stamped on his face.
I also remembered Tony after we lost against Thanos, rescued by Carol when he got stranded in space. Emaciated and bitter with the picture of him and Peter sitting on his desk. Tony looking at it constantly until Pepper finally managed to drag him out of his depression and I thanked God that Pepper was spared during THE SNAP cause he would have been a broken man without her. This Peter Parker was not that idealistic young man, his eyes gave it away. Too calm and too composed, too experienced in life giving you knocks that you had to get back up from again. That Peter Parker died young during THE SNAP, this one had lived a life.
"So how do you remember dying" I asked him trying to get more information, wondering if this was THE SNAP related, but he was shaking his head and wagging his finger at me.
"No, I introduced myself its your turn now" he said with a smile but very firmly. Nothing like the awkward stuttering word-fumbling young man I remembered.
"Natasha Romanoff" I said looking into his eyes, seeing the shock and surprise in them.
"Black Widow !" he shouted.
"SHhh" I tell him looking around to see if anyone noticed his reaction. His surprised shout reminding me very much of the excitable young Stark prodigy he used to be.
"Sorry, but I was just surprised" he whispers back looking apologetic "I just thought you would be someone that died around the same time I did."
Now he really has me curious. "When exactly did you die I ask him?"
"2048, over 20 years after you did" he says with a apologetic shrug. It is a surreal experience discussing your death with someone that lived over 20 years after you did while looking at the face of a child.
Even so hearing this news let me go of a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. We had won, we had undone THE SNAP, my sacrifice was not in vain. It was the only explanation for Peter having lived.
While good news and a relief it still did not answer the question of how me and Peter have ended up with our conscience minds inside two young children.
"Is this related to the infinity stones you think ?" I asked Peter
Peter rubs his chin while thinking about my question which looks just too cute, a toddler trying to figure out his 8 piece jigsaw puzzle.
"I just don't know, but it's a good an explanation as any with no additional information at hand." He answers.
"I don't know about you, but while I appreciate being alive again I don't exactly like stealing a child's life with parents that obviously loves them and care for them" I tell Peter seeing the same guilt as I feel in his face. This was not of our choice but we are currently stuck in this situation.
"What do you suggest we do ? He ask me, which tells me more than anything he does not have any quick solution to our problem either. "While I do know how to transfer a mind from one body to another compliment of one of my enemies who thought it would be great to steal my body." Peter says with visible disgust " It will require equipment, time and money not to mention what minds do you transfer back into these bodies? Or into what bodies do our minds go?"
I shake my head, aghast at the idea of stealing bodies and transferring minds, also on him being knowledgeable on how to do so.
"No Tasha we deal with what we can do and work our way up to a more palatable solution, one we can live with." He states firmly.
I hate planning ahead with so little information at hand. "Also you have probably noticed already right?" I ask Peter with an intense look." Our parents are not well off, and if their kids suddenly start speaking about remembering another life they will spend what little they have one "curing" us of our delusions. That's if we are lucky." He knew I was right, the way he avoided my eyes and turned his head guiltily away, shows he was considering convincing them of the fact we were not their children, mentally.
The apartment we lived in with our parents was not in the best of condition nor was any of the furniture or appliances. Our parents clothing were old, clean, well worn and mended, the only new clothing were mine and Peter's. The neighborhood we walked through to get to the daycare could barely be considered decent, you could see it was just one crackhead house raid away from being the slums. To inform them on what happened would be an attempt to lessen our feelings of guilt, while placing their lives into a downward spiral well even more of a drastic downward spiral than it is on.
"Okay " he tells me reluctantly "its agreed we don't tell them, but if something comes up that endangers them that we can prevent or avoid we do what we can including telling them." he stares at me conveying his determination to not take away more from them, than what we are already doing.
"Agreed " I say firmly, I too had my family and childhood taken, and finding myself the perpetrator no matter how unwilling has left a bitter taste in my mouth.
My and Peter's private chat came to abrupt end with an announcement of food and drinks. There is no way to focus on future plans when a hungry horde descents on the poor staff, and it would seem me and Peter had forgotten how very hungry kids can get. I felt I could have finished a buffalo on my own.
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We were picked up by our parents late. One of the last kids to be picked up by their parents. They got a warning from the daycare staff, but it was said in such a way that you knew it was just routine. Our parents were quiet, tired and also worried cause previously it seems we were far more engaging in the past. Luckily Peter and I were quick to adapt chatting about all the great activities of the day and glad to see their worry decrease if not their level of weariness.
I was surprised at my level of attachment, as an agent you learn how to distance yourself and look at everything and everyone objectively. I am finding that very hard as well as needing physical contact from "our" parents. I discussed this with Peter at night after our parents were asleep, "Papa's " snoring very loud and distinct. He is theorizing that our bodies are influencing our minds, and that it is a small mercy that the EVENT didn't happen sooner. Just imagine us as infants, would our minds have held together?
Weeks go pass and Peter and I are settling into our second childhood. While at first worried and keeping an eye on us for any other possible re-occurrence our parents have gotten more relaxed and comfortable with our new behaviors. Which they are ascribing to growing pains, if they only knew. Also it would seem surprises just keep on coming. Watching news with our parents, one of the few shows we may watch now if only the-feel-good fluff pieces we spotted another interesting fact, it is June 23, 1997. I had thought our parents just too poor to buy more modern appliances it would seem while worn the appliances were not outdated.
We had gone back in the past somehow, which on top of dying and being alive again would seem to be enough to make us numb to surprises but their was one more for us.
It was Peter that figured it out. While I was wandering around in the library, which our parents took us on Saturday mornings for the children's reading hour, and searching for current news paper in the children's section of the library. Anything current to get an idea of where and when I could contact someone I can trust in this timeline. Trust enough to give information that can perhaps prevent THE SNAP from ever happening. Right now original me was in the RED ROOM and could definitely not be trusted.
Peter was staring at a map of the United States and getting very agitated. He yanked me to the map as I went pass him. "Tasha look !" he pointed to a city marked on the map, Gotham City. I had seen enough signs outside to work out that we were living in Gotham City, even though I have never heard of it and it seemed a rundown old industrial city. The map showed it as being in New Jersey ? Near New York ? And near Metropolis in Delaware ?
If it was this close to New York I would have heard of it, not to mention a Metropolis. I looked at Peter who was jumping with excitement of having figured something out. I had noticed that as time went on he was being influenced by our physical state more and more, I can only think that I am as well if not as obviously as my brother.
I look around and see our parents are nicely distracted, talking and having some time with each other while the kids were safely listening to a story being read in the library.
I do some sibling yanking of my own to another area with more maps on display seeing countries with names like Bialy, Kasnia, Markovia and Bhutra. "Talk to me Peter what does this mean !" I point to all the maps specifically to all the places I don't know.
"It means we didn't just get plucked from death and placed back in time sis" he says with a bit of wonder in his voice. "We crossed dimensions, which makes sense as some dimensions would have a slower flow of time as compared to our original dimension which is much faster."
The wonder on his face turning to a concerned frown did not reassure me with what he had to say next. "It also means we are stuck here" he looks to me.
"You always said that my EVENT happened after yours by a few minutes" he says as he continues rubbing his chin as he is prone to do when he puzzling something out. "Our deaths were separated by over 20 years Tasha, here we transitioned just a few minutes apart. How long have we been here already?"
I don't have to be a genius to do the math, we have been here for weeks. We are not even talking centuries or millennia we are talking eons. There was no going back to our world our dimension it doesn't exist anymore.
As me and Peter look at each other re-evaluating our choices we suddenly hear gunshots outside. Years of training kicks in and while we are running towards our parents and they towards us our shouts of "duck and cover" are drowned out by screeching tyres and the noise of a hail of bullets being fired. The sounds getting louder and louder heading our way.
The truck plowed through the library's wall coming to stop among all the books and debris. Balaclava masked gunmen grabbing their loot from the truck while children were crying and parents were screaming. It was a miracle that no had been killed.
Peter and I spotted it first, cables attached to a very armored looking car to the masked gunmen's truck. If my experienced eye is not deceiving me it looks like the gunmen's truck was heading straight for the library at full speed. No doubt to lose its pursuer by leaving a mess of bodies and debris, children bodies as the section is very clearly marked.
The cables, with hooks I can see now embed in the gunmen's truck, had prevented that when the truck was tugged off course into the library pillar instead of hitting and going through the opposite wall with a window. The window underneath which the librarian and children were gathered listening to her read a story.
All this we took in at a glance. So did he, when he exited his armored car. I could feel it roll of him, the rage, when he realized what could have happened, what the gunmen had planned to happen. Then he went cold and he was suddenly twice as dangerous. I have felt someone giving off this same feeling to me just once before and I consider him one of the most dangerous people I have ever met. Frank Castle the Punisher.
He had on a dark cowl with is that pointy ears? With just his mouth visible and it was giving off a grim look. The suit most resembled well me and Clint's combat suits with a cape ? Made for protecting in vulnerable areas while still giving flexibility to move and strike. Nice sturdy boots that looked steel toed, I would not want be kicked by those and completed with black gloves, which had razors on the side .All in grey and black with an emblem on his chest, is that a bat?
While looking decidedly weird to her eyes it was still intimidating and in dark places would probably be terrifying. That is not even taking in consideration the sheer bloodlust he was giving off. As tall as her father if not as bulky build she had no doubt he would be able to take him apart with ease.
Which is exactly what he started doing to the gunmen. They were still disoriented and more focused on getting their loot then running away. They should have started with running away, they might have made it. One minute she and Peter were looking at him and the robbers the next moment he was among them. "Damn he is fast" I heard Peter swear and I could only agree his every move swift and efficient. I was looking at an assassin, an extremely well trained one with skills honed to a fine edge, but as I was observing him I had to re-evaluate him. He wasn't trying to kill them. Frank would have killed them without any remorse. Don't get me wrong he was being absolutely brutal, with moves and hits to each of the gunmen that was debilitating if not outright crippling. Some of those men would not be able to hold a spoon let alone a weapon again for a long time and a lot of physical therapy.
At the end there was only him standing while all the rest of them were on the ground crying, begging, hurting ….uh …pissing? I was more and more impressed the longer I looked at him, with Frank Castle level of cold rage and bloodlust he had controlled himself enough not to kill any of them. It spoke of the man's will and sheer determination. He was far more terrifying than Frank Castle.
Then he moved again to his armored car got in and drove off, everything done swiftly, quietly and efficiently.
"Finally the cops !" Peter exclaimed as I noticed the sirens. I had been so focused on the vigilante I didn't even realize Gotham City PD had arrived while he sped off. Finding our parents ruffled and bruised but alive was a relief, their grip on Peter and I with their constant fussing on us spoke of the terror they felt when they thought something had happened to us. They loved us and wanted the protect us against the world at all cost. Which explained the switching channels on news reports before Peter and I could truly hear anything of Gotham City or the world. They wanted to keep us safely in a bubble for as long as possible away from danger. Unfortunately for them their children "Tasha Roman" and "Petro (Peter) Roman" had lived and died once before as heroes.
In a new world knowing of the dangers and sacrifices required to be one, fate may just leave them no choice but to pick up the mantles once more.
