Peter stared at the words a moment longer, before quietly setting the folder down. He blinked once, before almost automatically moving to fix gear and get everything ready that he would need in the three hour time frame he was allotted. While he did so, his mind raced a mile a minute, but it wouldn't appear so to anyone who just so happened to be looking. He'd been conditioned to have a neutral poker-face at default, otherwise his hidden desires would've been gutted out of him ages ago.

They wanted him to go after the Avengers? The strongest team of superheroes on the planet, maybe even in the universe? Fat chance that would work out, as far as the mutant was concerned. There were twelve members last he recalled (and the file stated that as well), all of which were either enhanced or could make up for it with their skillset. While he had taken down enhanced before as Weaver, nine of his failures were results of hits on enhanced individuals, mostly in groups of twos or threes. When they were by themselves, he could do it. But while he was enhanced himself, the risk for failure increased dramatically when more enhanced people were introduced into the mix. He felt a phantom sting of pain from his arm and foot at the thought, wincing internally at what they'd done to him with those near fatal errors.

The hit they ordered was insane, as far as he could tell. He had gotten better and more efficient at what he could do, and had eventually taken down a group of five enhanced without a mistake. But twelve was 2.4 times the formal amount he'd taken on. Not only that, they were the most famous individuals he'd been tasked to take out. Everyone knew their name. Their faces were everywhere. Any misstep on his part, any wrong string of luck, would get him killed or outed faster than a bullet. Frankly, he didn't know which would be worse; the thought that he could be tortured and killed by the Avengers, or the thought that he could be tortured and killed by his handlers. His only solace was that the Avengers might be more merciful and grant him a swift passing. Peter could only hope so if they got to him before he could take them out.

He began tinkering with his prosthetic, deciding that he needed to replace the mechanics there. It would be good to enhance the sticking he'd given to the metal, refill the web cartridges implanted there, and tweak the other tools he'd given the Vibranium arm as precautionary measures. The asset knew he would need every tool at his disposal if he even wanted a chance in hell of trying to get the hit done for his employers.

The mutant sighed internally, however. If he were honest, he'd grown numb to the killing. A part of him would never like it (scarier still, a part of him that seemed to be more feral and spider-like did), but he'd pushed his morality to the side. It was a necessity to stay alive and relatively sane with everything they'd forced him to do. He internalized it as something Peter Parker was forced to do as Weaver, because Weaver was just a puppet on their string, easy to manipulate and compliant to whatever they made him do. Which was the unfortunate truth he'd had to live with ever since that fateful November day, where his four year old self had still been whisked away from the innocence of youth and taught all too soon the horrors the world could dredge up. And, really, the hits didn't really tend to effect him much beyond the fact that he was killing someone who didn't deserve it. He didn't know or have personal interests in most of the victims he was sicced upon. Because of that, he could scrape by, blocking out their faces and their screams and the blood pooling around his feet in his dreams by justifying their estrangement from his predicament.

He couldn't do that, here. He knew of the Avengers, of course. Had heard word on them as he'd gone out to do hits, had heard snippets during tests or the makings of new gear for them to use. They were hard to miss. A group of superheroes that had saved the world from an invasion he'd almost gotten killed in on a hit five years back, and a league of robots hellbent on eradicating humanity that he'd caught wind of when developing new bulletproof clothing for operatives so they could take more of the intense hits the bots provided. His handlers absolutely despised their presence in the world, he knew. He knew they were the reason they'd suddenly had to go further into hiding, why restrictions had been further reinforced, and why they had lost a majority of HYDRA operatives; because the superteam had been taking out HYDRA bases left and right. Peter would've hoped they would find this place and destroy it, too, if he knew it was even possible for them to know of its existence. But, alas, the mutant had known better than that.

As he finished up on the arm and moved on to his foot, he began to wonder if he really did want to try pleasing his handlers by genuinely attempting the hit, or just give up and let them kill him. It was a dark thought, and Peter had never considered himself to be suicidal, but it had slowly become the only thing he could genuinely see as an out to a situation as grim as his was. And he had tried, for a time, to do exactly that when he'd first arrived. Of course, though, the asset had learned quickly, the hard way, that he was ridiculously hard to kill and trying to get himself offed resulted in him losing a limb or getting sensory torture. He was remiss to repeat that ever again. They still loved using the whistle just to watch him squirm, and he wasn't looking forward to giving them a reason to enforce the limitations they had laid down for this hit. He knew their version of ensuring he would be killed if he couldn't be killed himself was slow, painful, and meant to make every last moment agonizing.

No... despite how long he'd spent carefully crafting his moral structure, he'd have to let a wrench be thrown into it. He couldn't simply avoid going through with the hit, especially since the chance of him being captured by the Avengers would likely be higher than him getting killed by the Avengers. They were superheroes, after all. Peter didn't think any of them would be too keen on killing a potential fountain of information... and that would only raise if they managed to find out who he really was. A missing kid from Queens who was way too young to be the face behind mass homicide.

Pushing his thoughts as Peter Parker to the side, he let the more strategical and tactitionalist mentality of Weaver take hold as he pondered what his course of action would be. Because whatever it would be would have to be enough to defeat the Avengers. And if a bunch of HYDRA goons, each member's own personal demons, a god, and a homicidal robot couldn't defeat the team, how would he, a growing mutant, do so? Well, he'd just have to find a way. Weaver always found a way.

With a frustrated breath, Tony scrubbed a palm across his face as he leaned back in his chair. Ross's annoying voice blared through the other end, babbling on about how it was "too risky to try to amend the Sokovia Accords" or "those enhanced need to be monitored and the things you're trying to take away will screw everyone over" or some bull like that. If he were honest, the billionaire could care less what Senator Ross thought about this mess. He had other things to occupy his thoughts. Like pardoning Steve's ex-assassin friend.

"...and the Sokovia Accords need to get in place immediately. Senator Froy was murdered and I have my suspicions an enhanced did it. Those two idiot thugs couldn't have done him in. That killer would be pardoned by the amendments you're wanting-" Ross was prattling, and frankly, Tony had enough of it.

"Look, Ross, I don't care what you think. The UN will be convening to finalize the amendments and get them written in stone. They already liked what they saw, so can it, will you?" The philanthropist snapped, before promptly leaning over and cutting the line off. "FRIDAY, mute any and all incoming calls from Thaddeus Ross, will you?"

"Of course, Boss." FRIDAY chimed from the device.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a sigh of relief. God, he was gonna have a bad headache from this. Tony pushed off from the desk, spinning in the chair for a few moments before finally standing, letting out a huff. The superhero stretched, feeling a few joints pop, and it pulled at his muscles. It made him feel old, and that was always something of a stark reminder to him of how much time had passed since he was taken hostage in Afghanistan. Back then... well, the craziest thing was building an arc reactor with a box of scraps and flying around in a metal suit. Now there were mutants, gods, aliens, people from the past... and who knew what else they'd come across. Contemplating the sheer magnitude of everything they had to face made his head spin, and he could feel the headache begin to spike. Now wasn't the time to get existential, he supposed.

Walking out of the meeting room, he headed towards the common rooms of the Avengers Compound, stifling a yawn. He'd been busy that day; after getting roused from his lab at 6:30 AM by Pepper, Tony had to attend a rather long-winded call from the UN regarding their opinions on the amendments he and the other Avengers had proposed before they even considered the Sokovia Accords. Most of them were, of course, dedicated to enhanced individual's rights, and quite a few were regarding where and when the superhero team could take action. The main one was that the team could operate wherever they were needed unless a country decided they would rather do without their assistance at the time. Another was that any matter that wasn't a world-wide threat could be handled without interruption as long as the situation dictated their individual intervention and they alerted a government liaison (who happened to be agreed upon to be Nick Fury to the team's relief and Ross's anger) to what they were getting done. Most of the UN, upon learning the truth behind the bombings, came to realize that the Avengers, despite their flaws and some of their downfalls, were much more beneficial to them as a team than anything else. And slowly (sometimes even begrudgingly), they warmed back up to the concept of giving the group of superheroes more freedom of operation. This, of course, satisfied all of their needs; James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes would be absolved of all former crimes that he unwillingly committed in exchange for their cooperation with the UN in world-wide threats. They'd fought tirelessly against any of the restrictions Ross and the others who agreed with his small-minded thinking had thrown their way, eventually reaching a compromise the entire team had agreed to. They could do what they needed to do so long as they alerted the UN to what it was, and if it was something global, the UN would get jurisdiction on where they were needed.

While it wasn't the most freeing thing, it satiated their desires. They could still have some government restraint without needing to be on a leash. They would know what they needed to do so they could clear an area, and they would get the freedom to step into conflicts that weren't world-threatening without needing to ask permission first. The majority of the UN were fine with those terms. The one who threw the biggest fit, however, was the original proposer of the first draft; Ross, of course. He seemed to have a single-minded hatred against enhanced, and was willing to do whatever he could to stop them. To be honest, Tony had never trusted him. Bruce had told him one day what the Secretary of State had done to him, and, well... he could never forgive that. It was despicable to do such a terrible thing to his science bro. And, well... while Tony had initially wanted to spring on the idea of government control, hearing it was from Ross was the thing that made him draw the line. Tony was more than willing to cooperate with government restrictions; but Ross was not going to be the one setting them.

As Tony walked down the hallway, he caught sight of the SHIELD agents training down below, and let out a sigh. The entire affair had honestly been one big mess after another; the framed bombings, protecting Bucky, amending the Accords... it was impressive the billionaire hadn't broken under the strain. It was a lot to take in. Finding out his parents had been murdered by the same guy Steve was trying to help, fighting against Zola and his super soldiers, waging a political battle against Ross, and trying to keep the team together was a job the philanthropist never would've guessed he'd be taking. Not in a million years.

Entering the living room, he spotted Clint, Wanda, Sam, and this guy the Falcon had introduced to them as Scott Lang, hanging out by the TV, Nintendo Switch controllers in hand, playing Mario Kart Deluxe 8. Go figure. At least they were having fun. Natasha and Bruce were talking by the island, seemingly making sandwiches. How domestic. Vision was staring out the window while Rhodey exchanged a few words with the android, and Steve was no where to be seen. Quirking a brow at the sight, he sauntered over to the kitchen, snagging one of the completed sandwiches off of the counter with a flourish, before biting into it. "Bet Ross would get a kick out of how domestic the world's most well-known enhanced individuals could be. He'd have a hay day. 'You're not allowed to make sandwiches! That's for ordinary shitheads like myself!'" he mimed, flashing the two an award-winning smile.

Natasha rolled her eyes as she set other sandwiches out at the bar for the others to grab at their leisure. "I'm guessing the call was uneventful, then," she mused. Tony wasn't really all that surprised that the super spy had figured out what he'd been pulled away to do. It was just part of her skill-set. "What did he try to convince you of that was wrong with the amendments this time?"

Bruce had his eyes buried on the sandwiches as he finished making the last of them, a strained smile on his face. He enjoyed their company, but talk of Ross usually got him on edge. Both he and the big guy were not fans of him for ruining his life. "Probably something to do with us being able to operate where we need to without needing to ask permission first."

Tony polished off the meal, leaning against the counter. "I tuned him out. I don't make it a habit of listening to assholes with hidden agendas anymore."

The other two heroes gave an understanding nod, and Tony helped them bring the rest over to the counter. Hearing the movement, the others (including Vision, despite the fact he didn't eat) came over to the bar and snagged themselves the dressed bread. A few conversations then sprung up as they socialized over their lunch, and as Tony paused to catch his breath after a particularly snide comment from Clint about Ross, he couldn't help a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he let the moment wash over him. His team, his friends... his family... being able to be together like this was the best thing the philanthropist could earnestly think of. Seeing how he used to be almost made him laugh at the irony. A few years ago he was Tony Stark; billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist, Merchant of Death and prodigal son of Howard Stark who ran the largest weapon's manufacturing industry in the world and could care less about anyone that wasn't himself. But now, he was more than just that. He was Iron Man, billionaire, genius, philanthropist, dating a woman he wanted to marry and part of a team of incredible individuals who saved the world together. It was almost surreal some days to realize how much things had changed. But, if the billionaire were honest, he wouldn't change a thing.

"Sir, the Quinjet is back," FRIDAY remarked, interrupting the camaraderie. "Captain Rogers and King T'Challa have arrived with Mr. Barnes."

Tony blinked. Was today the day that Barnes was being brought to the Compound? Huh, he must've forgotten. The hero felt a bit of anxiety bubble in his chest at the thought of seeing him again. Yes, he didn't mean to kill his parents, but... Tony still remembered. But he was willing to give the former soldier a chance if it meant keeping their team together. Besides, it wasn't like he was exempt from mistakes, either. He knew Wanda was still iffy around him thanks to what his weapons had done to her family, but she was willing to give Tony a chance. And, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he trusted Steve, and the rest of his team. They were all fine with the Winter Soldier. Would it hurt to at least give him a shot?

While he'd been lost in thought, the others had gotten up and headed out, and Tony scrambled off behind them, joining them at the helipad as the Quinjet landed. As it powered down, the ramp lowered, revealing the three other members of their team. Steve had a bit of a scruff on his jaw, the iconic shield framing his back. T'Challa was wearing his formal black attire, the nanite necklace that contained his suit framing the collar of the expensive outfit. Flanked between them was Bucky, a new prosthetic adorning his shoulder, hair a bit disheveled but eyes looking clearer than they had in a long time. They all flashed them smiles as they stepped out of their transport, and the team went forward to greet them.

"So, Terminator, got your wiring fixed?" Tony phrased nonchalantly, though anyone who knew him well could hear both the caution and the care in the words.

Bucky glanced at the iron-clad hero uncertainly, unsure of what his play was, and if he genuinely cared. A quick glance at the billionaire's eyes told him the truth of it, though; there was a quiet compassion hidden in the brown depths, almost as if the philanthropist was uncertain about asking but wanting to make the effort. And after what he'd done to the hero's family, well... the former HYDRA asset would be remiss to say he wasn't surprised. He'd heard mixed things about the man. Some said he was snarky and an asshole. Others said he was caring and paranoid. A few on the team would even voice that it was both. But from what he could tell... he'd changed from the former assumption, at least genuinely. So, an uncertain smile tugged at his lips. "I guess you could say that... Inspector Gadget."

Hearing the title, Tony couldn't help a bit of a snort at that. "Inspector Gadget?" The billionaire asked, a more genuine smile cracking across his uncertain features. "C'mon, that's old-school! What about John Hammond?"

Natasha chipped in, "Tony, Jurassic Park is from 1993. That's pretty old, too."

Tony simply shrugged. "Hey, when they have more billionaire genius philanthropists in modern films that like to tinker with inventions, you let me know."

They all laughed at that, and all headed inside. The three newcomers got left-over sandwiches as they all socialized again, seeing as there was nothing for them to currently do. Tony found himself deflating as time went on, letting out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. This... surprisingly wasn't all that painful. In fact, he'd dare say that it could be doable. Now that all of that HYDRA junk was out of Barnes' head, he was a funny guy. Not as entertaining as Scott, Clint, and Sam could be, but he'd dare say that it would be fun to play on his lack of modern knowledge. It was just like Steve used to be.

Somehow, the news had been turned on, and something caught his attention. A woman dressed in fancy clothing, holding a microphone, was standing outside of a senator building. There were many people on the scene, held back by police tape and the accompanying hired help. There seemed to be a lot of clamor. "Late last night, two unidentified minor hitmen were identified breaking into The Capitol. A few were injured during the struggle, but no one was taken hostage. Their target was Senator James Froy, who quickly fled further into the building. The police were called on the scene swiftly. After searching the building, the bodies of Senator Froy and the two hitmen were found in an abandoned conference room. The men were identified as Lonnie Thompson Lincoln and Christopher Nord. The case was determined a homicide, though no leads have been released to the public. More on the story at 8."

Tony frowned. "Huh. That's odd," he mused.

"Senator Froy was one of the UN representatives pushing for the amendments," Natasha commented, face unreadable. However, Tony saw her shift on her feet a little, showing how unsettled that seemed to make her.

"Think that's a coincidence?" Steve asked, glancing over at Vision.

The android seemed to be deep in concentration, before shaking his head. "From what I gathered, the police records show no indicators of foul play. Although it is odd that two hired hitmen were also found deceased," Vision mused, gaze fixed on the now muted television.

"Sounds like a third party intervened, then, if they're claiming homicide," Rhodey chipped in, sitting on the couch.

Scott tipped his head. "Would there be any footage from the building?"

"FRIDAY? Can you look into it?" Tony asked, grabbing himself a drink and taking a sip.

"Sure thing, Boss," the AI remarked. After a few minutes, she chimed in, "There was interference with the CCTV footage around 11 PM last night."

"What?" Steve asked, brow furrowed. "Display it on the TV."

The footage popped up on the TV from the varying different cameras in the building. It played normally, and they watched people mill in and out of the building. Then, at 10:53 PM, the footage suddenly cut to a one second of static before the footage seemed to resume to normal. However, the group frowned. "The footage for the entire building was looped," Bucky pointed out quietly.

"By a professional, it looks like. If you weren't paying attention and didn't know where to look, you'd be completely fooled. Hell, I was almost fooled and I can see all the camera footage." Bruce remarked, a bit impressed.

One of the conference rooms suddenly flickered with the smallest flash of movement before the entire screen went dark. After a few minutes, the footage glitched back on, resuming normally, if the three bodies in the conference room were any indicator. The group sat there silently, processing the scene, before Tony quietly asked FRIDAY to turn the TV off. Then, with a puff of air, he ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Well, isn't that a little disturbing?" he tried to remark casually, though it was hard to force past the sudden lump in his throat. Whoever had killed them had done it fast and efficiently, if the disembodied head and the fallen hitmen were any indicator. He'd gotten a good look at the guns that were lying nearby, and they meant business. Who or whatever had done it was fast, intelligent, and had great tech on them if hacking and replacing all of the footage was any indicator.

Natasha frowned, folding her arms. She glanced over at Clint almost curiously. "You were after assassins like me before we met, right? Were there any that could do this?"

"In less than five minutes? Unlikely," Clint said, shaking his head. "They had to be enhanced to cause that kind of damage so efficiently. There's no way a normal person could do that, right?"

"That's what Ross was spouting to me earlier," Tony said, rolling his eyes at the mention of the senator he despised. Why couldn't this mystery assassin get him, instead? It would make his job much easier. "So he seems to think that's the case, too."

"Why were people still in the building that late? Isn't The Capitol closed after 5 PM?" Sam asked, fixing them all with a curious glance. "They were there almost six hours after the place was supposed to be closed."

Vision chimed in, "From what I could gather, they were having a retirement party for one of the workers there, and it had gone late into the night."

"Basically begging for trouble," Bucky remarked darkly, shaking his head. "No wonder two hitmen arrived on-scene. That many government officials in one place after-hours with lower risk of civilians is a prime target."

Wanda folded her arms, leaning against the wall. "For more than one group, it seems," she added, brow furrowed and fixed on the floor. "One who's been fighting for our rights. Do you think Senator Ross might have something to do with this? He could've been trying to trick you into thinking he wasn't associated with it by playing annoyance."

"Would he do that?" Scott asked, glancing around at the team. "I know the guy's a grade-A asshole, but that seems a bit too conniving, even for him. He hates enhanced."

They all looked to Steve, who sighed and simply shrugged. "I couldn't tell you."

T'Challa had been silent, staring at the TV with a peculiar expression. He broke the silence that settled over the group with a question. "FRIDAY? Would you be able to send this information over to Shuri?" the king fixed his gaze on the others. "She could help us see if whoever altered the footage left a trace. They're dangerous, whoever they are."

Tony quirked a brow at that, but didn't particularly feel like challenging the king on his choice of preference. After all, he'd seen the Wakandan Princess at work, and though he wouldn't admit it aloud, he suspected she might be smarter than he was. Certainly had better technology from what he'd seen when he visited the place. If anyone would have the tech to find their Anonymous, it would be Shuri. So, with a sigh, he quipped, "Let's just hope whoever it is doesn't pull a V for Vendetta on us. I'm not really wanting to be pulled into a revenge scheme by some angry enhanced out to get corrupt government officials."

"You'll still be on your yellow brick road, Stark, since that doesn't happen to be the case," The calm voice of Nick Fury interrupted as the former director of SHIELD entered the building, an almost smug grin being masked behind indifference. "Though I do imagine that would certainly win around some of the stubborn idiots there."

Tony glanced back to Nick quickly, and gave a cursory glance at the others, also noting their confusion. Frowning, he stared up at the ceiling. "FRIDAY, any reason you didn't warn us Nick Fury was here?"

"Sorry, sir, but you added him to the whitelist five months ago, and told me to allow him and any necessary guests in without precedence."

Dammit, of course. He'd forgotten about that. While he pinched the bridge of his nose, Natasha quirked a brow, an almost quiet amusement draping her features. "Have you been doing some homework, Nick? Because it seems like you know more about this guy than the cops do."

Steve fixed the former SHIELD director with a glance. "Anything you can let us know?"

Fury tipped his head in Natasha's direction, before fixing his one-eyed gaze on Steve. "As a matter of fact, I have quite a reliable source on our guy," he mused, folding his arms. "A SHIELD operative that I've had nestled deep into one of the spy training programs on a hunch. Something that HYDRA had been using under our noses and has miraculously continued working under the seams."

Scott frowned. "I thought you guys had gotten rid of all of the HYDRA facilities?"

Sam snorted at that. "Yeah, we tried, but they're like a damn cockroach. We keep seeming to find new things that were their's all the time."

Bucky frowned, unconsciously rubbing his prosthetic arm. "So they've... what. Been making another asset?"

Nick gave a nod in Bucky's direction, before raising a hand. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the hallway, stepping into the room. He was rather unimpressive looking and wore a pair of Aviators and a casual suit. In his hand was a suitcase that was seemingly shackled to his wrist. "This is Agent Faulers, though to them he was known as Coin. And I believe he's got info on just the guy you're looking for."

Wanda tipped her head, a small frown on her face and a flicker of scarlet on her eyes. "You didn't decide to visit just to satiate our curiosity." It wasn't a question; she could sense their intentions.

Agent Faulers stepped forward, eyes downcast a bit to the carpet as he adjusted to the presence of the famous superheroes. "Yes. Your lives are in danger. The same guy that killed Senator Froy? He's been given a new target, and it's you guys."

A resounding, "What?!" reverberated through the room. However, Natasha fixed her cool gaze on the agent, an almost curious glint in her eyes. "You seem to know an awful lot about this mysterious person." she remarked casually.

At that, Agent Faulers let out a breath, raising his gaze to fix on them. "I've been embedded in their ranks for seven years, Ms. Romanoff. It was tough work, but became one of eleven among their fold to learn of their asset. If I hadn't been trusted by them, I would never have been able to see the hitman in person, nor have learned of this latest hit," a quiet fire blazed in his eyes. "I stood by out of necessity. Nothing could be done about it before, but now, with this, there's a chance."

"A chance to what?" Rhodey quietly voiced.

"A chance to take HYDRA's best weapon off their hands and rescue whatever poor soul's behind the mask," Nick Fury replied. "A task befitting the Avengers without overstepping the amended Accords, might I add."

"That's all well and good," Tony remarked, stepping forward a bit, "but we've never heard of whoever this is before, nor this hidden HYDRA base. If you want us to act on the target on our backs, you're gonna need to start explaining, Sherlock."

At that, Agent Faulers gave the barest hint of an amused grin. "They call him Weaver. And he's the deadliest asset to ever fall into HYDRA's hands."

Good lord, a bit late on the update. Yikes.

Thanks for all of the follows and favorites!

Krakengirl- Thanks! To be honest, this type of fic has always interested me, but I haven't actually seen a lot of them with the same set-up as mine. Most have been HYDRA making him into a spider mutate. One I did really love that comes to mind is Wolf Spider, and I definitely recommend checking that one out. Though I imagine it'll play out a fair bit... differently. Of course, the tags are a bit of a giveaway to some eventual plans for this story, but... it might take some unexpected roads to get to the hurt/comfort and family. Also, it works as a really great narrative piece to set up an initial meeting between them. I don't imagine Peter would really get a chance to just wander about and bump into them, and I don't imagine the Avengers would randomly stumble across him if they thought pretty much all HYDRA operations were finished. It adds a bit of diversity to give Peter a reason to run into them that has some rather dark incentives.

Next time on OWOW: A change of plans.