Interception
Queens, New York
Midtown School of Science and Technology
The past few days for Peter weren't easy, thinking about all the strange occurrences lately. Pondering on them, using his big brain like he normally would to find a solution to any problem, didn't quite work for this situation. In fact, it only made things more complicated. Things didn't seem to correlate. Why was Romanoff involved in all this? Of all people, what made her seek him for help? Asking that question to himself obviously then would've pointed him in the next direction being that apparently another him exists in this universe… which is where his critical thinking then starts to falter. Trying to make sense of such incomprehensible ideas and concepts is what made his head hurt the most. Cosmic theories was way out of his league as far as his studies went. Chemistry and engineering were his forte. But if all of this were true, there being doppelgangers and alternate versions of himself possibly walking amongst the Earth, and many more possibilities, then perhaps he should start trying to learn more about it.
Physics class, on the other hand, served as a treat to the webhead, simply because it came naturally to him, as his past perfect scores showed. Ms. Warren presented her lesson to the class, and in order for him to take his mind off of all the stress, Peter attentively took notes this time. He drew pictures of the diagrams displayed on the board in his notebook also, quite detailed in fact, finding it mildly therapeutic, even though it wasn't necessary. Keeping his phone in the pocket of his jeans, he knew whenever he'd receive a text message since he kept it on vibrate after Ms. Warren had to get on him several times about his ringtone disrupting the class. Once it vibrated, Peter knew he'd have to play it cool without Ms. Warren spotting him. She had a keen eye and seemed to catch everything. When she wasn't looking, he slid the phone from out of his pocket and took a peak at it. The message box came from an unknown number. But it was brief, so he at least could see the full length.
It's Romanoff… we need to talk, it read.
His heart stopped momentarily. Just hearing her name unnerves him to the bone. Then again, she didn't do anything to him before, so he supposed he had nothing to worry about. But he didn't let his guard down too soon just yet.
Ms. Warren didn't like for the students to interrupt class just by asking to use the bathroom. They were soon-to-be-adults, so she figured they'd best start acting like it by getting up themselves and just going and taking the 'bathroom pass' with them on their way out. Peter did so, and headed down the empty halls to the bathroom, anxiously, not knowing what to expect. She lied to him, as he figured would happen. She said she'd be 'out of his hair' after this was over, but supposedly it wasn't. He opened his phone to reply, being very careful what he said.
What's this about? he put. He waited momentarily, so nervous that he actually felt the need to use the restroom at this point.
I've got more answers about what happened she replied. With the nosebleed and all…
Just when he tried to forget about that, she reminded him then and there. That was just a strange day in general, meeting the others and all.
You said you'd be out of my hair. You said you'd be done with this he responded.
No answer.
Sighing, his mind started racing. He was caught in the Black Widow's web, again. This is how it starts, Peter thought to himself. The games, manipulation, bribing. It's how she got what she wanted. He didn't feel entirely wrong about his assumption, given her history. Then again, she did nothing to him during their little trip to meet some old friends… though it was still hard to empathize with her.
He got a reply.
I know. I understand if you don't want to get involved. I'm sorry
Damn, she was good. For all Peter knew, this was part of her ploy. Then, he started thinking with his brain and not his feelings. What ploy, really? What ulterior motive could she possibly have under her sleeve after he's seen for himself the craziness of the situation? Moreso, how could he explain the nosebleed that occurred? There had to be a reason for that to happen only at that moment in time. Something about being there, in the same place as the other… him, had to be a reason for it. Romanoff couldn't possibly be capable of pulling off something as intricate and detailed as this. Then again, he didn't know her that well himself. For all he knew, she probably was more than capable.
He pressed his thumb onto the screen, ready to type something, but hesitated. Stopping, he looked up to the ceiling lights, distracted momentarily, wondering how the hell he was going to convince her otherwise or just go with her plan. Replying with what he felt was satisfying enough, he headed on towards the restroom.
Okay, when do you want to meet? his message read.
As he turned, he was met with an unexpected voice to accompany him.
"Hey, Peter," Michelle's voice sounded, just as he turned to face her, which genuinely threw Peter off guard and startled the crap out of him.
"Jesus," he exclaimed, touching his heart.
"Hmm, not quite. MJ, but close enough."
"Michelle, what are you- what are you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
"Look who's talking. And for your information, I'm on hall monitor duty now. Yeah, isn't my life just great?"
Through all this, her nonchalant expression mixed with her overall droopy appearance and hair hanging over her face gave her the look of intimidation to the webhead more than any street thug ever could, as crazy as it sounded.
"Hall monitor duty?" he said. "Why?"
"'Cause I'm bored. My class is boring, the people in it are boring, so why not? Plus I get to pick on poor kids like you wondering in the halls like prey."
"Michelle, I've told you this, we're like the same age group, you can't call me a kid."
She laughed, hysterically and briefly, then turned serious-faced again.
"You? Me? Same? Nah." With that, she walked past him and ruffled his hair on the way, to which Peter didn't fix right away, mildly irritated. "Better get back to class soon, young man, before I tell Ms. Warren you were loafing around in the halls."
He turned to look at her, confused. "How do you know I've got her class right now?"
"Um, it's fourth period? Duh! I know you and Ned's stupid schedules by this point."
And she was gone. He couldn't lie, something about even her awkward yet defiant walk, as though she had no care about what the world around her thought of her, sparked something in him. Just something. But she was still a jerk to him. Playful, sure, but a jerk nevertheless. Peter couldn't really complain since he was used to it by now, and only the people Michelle figured were really worth her time were the ones she messed with the most, especially him. Oh, especially Peter Parker. He hoped he hadn't been blushing the whole time, like when she messed up his hair.
The spy waited for him at the bleachers, sporting her sunglasses and beanie to match with her brown leather jacket, wanting to maintain a low profile as much as possible while in public. Peter almost missed her since he's not used to seeing her without the red hair and all.
"Hey," her voice sounded, catching his attention. Tuning his head to the left, she was right there waiting for him patiently, arms crossed leaning against the side of the bleachers.
"Romanoff?" he dumbly asked, needing confirmation that it was her.
"No, it's your Aunt May," she shot back. "Yes it's me."
"You really know how to rock a disguise," he commented.
"Well, all the years I've been doing this, I'd be dead if I didn't." Oh…, the kid thought to himself, as he was sure his unease showed itself to her yet again, and not to his liking. "Look, the last thing I wanna do is inconvenience anyone… especially young adults. But I can't stress enough, this shit is weird. All of it. I know it's a lot for you, too; it is for me. I need your help, Parker. You're a lot smarter than me and at least have some sort of knowledge in this type of stuff. Stark and Bru-" she caught herself, "Banner, they can't help me right now anymore. That's why I need you… and this other person I managed to reach out to. An old acquaintance we can say."
Here she goes again, weaving her web for him to become entangled in once more, all part of her manipulation. No doubt about it, Natasha knew how to get what she wanted, for good or bad intentions. Peter knew good and well, though, that the Black Widow was more than capable. He may have been naive, but only to an extent. Learning to trust people wasn't something he'd been great at basically ever. Perhaps now was the time to change that.
"Agent Romanoff, I- I can't. I- I have school, I have… responsibilities, my aunt. She'll kill me if she finds out what I'm doing on the side," he pleaded.
"You never did fully address the question back in Oceanside when I asked - does your aunt know about you?" Romanoff bluntly inquired.
This made the kid's stomach drop. He knew there was no reason to panic since Aunt May already knew what he was, but still, the lingering feeling of knowing that she knows still bothered him every day.
"...Yes." he answered shamefully. In Natasha's eyes, he saw a slight bit of remorse from her, which bemused him, coming from her. "But that doesn't change anything. I didn't want her to find out. Now that she has… it just…"
Natasha nodded. "I get it. Really, I do. You don't have to explain. If you don't wanna help me, you don't have to. I won't bother you again. You have my word."
For the second time, Peter felt her honesty take over. Sure, she was good at what she does, but it didn't feel that way this time. He knew now that she was dead serious about what she was saying. Ironically, this made him feel more inclined to help her more than ever.
He groaned, putting his hands on his face, looking to the sky. "Don't do this to me," he said.
"I'm not forcing you to do anything," she insinuated. "Really."
"Yeah, but you're doing that thing."
"What thing?"
"Where you make a good point and then you make me feel bad about not wanting to help, and just- ugh!"
"Parker, seriously, you don't have to-"
"Hey, loser!" Michelle's voice interrupted out of nowhere, directing her attention to Peter, catching him very much off guard. Ned was with her also. Now he was panicking. He glanced at Natasha, to which she gave nothing in return, and then back at his friends.
"Oh, h-hey guys!" he nervously exclaimed. "Wha- What's up?"
"Why are you acting weird - wait, that's a redundant question," said Michelle.
"You still down for study hall today?" Ned asked.
"Uh, yeah," the kid answered.
Ned looked back in the direction where Natasha was standing, to which she no longer was, and became baffled, much to his astonishment.
"Who was that lady?" Ned questioned, wondering where she went.
Who was that lady? Peter wondered. Why was he asking in past tense? The he turned to answer his own question. She disappeared. How the heck did she do that, he thought. She was just there a second ago-
"That your new girlfriend or something?" Michelle teased, in her head kind of hoping he'd say no.
"No," he said as though he were a bit offended by the question. "She's, uh, an old colleague from the Stark internship."
"The Stark internship?" Ned exclaimed. "You're still doing that thing? I thought you were done?"
"I am, but, you know… they still like to recruit and beg people to come back and stuff, you know. Like, 'Hey, Peter, we really like you and we'd hate to see you go,' type-of-thing," he said, nervously chuckling to better pass the lie, to which Michelle couldn't care less about - her face saying it all - and Ned just looking more and more bewildered. "She's nobody, really. So study hall, right?" he said, trying to change the subject.
"Mm-hmm," Ned and Michelle said together, exchanging smirks.
"What?" Peter said, blushing without realizing it. They said nothing as they turned the other way heading back. "What, guys? She's nobody, seriously!"
Oceanside, NY
After Ben moved out of the house to go off to college, Marta still kept his old room upstairs just the way it was, untouched and everything. So most of his wall posters and accessories were still plastered everywhere, just the way he liked. Meaningful and disorganized. And just like their old home, the walls were painted blue. He asked his aunt if he could do it himself, so she kept hers white. Something about the blue paint just made him feel more at home. It was his favorite color, next to red. Whenever he'd come home to visit, he enjoyed chilling in his room for old times sake, as though he'd never left, reading, researching, working on a new project, or even just being lazy and staying in bed all day. It felt better here than in his college dorm.
Sitting in his bed against the pillow and the headboard, Ben sat up reading the book Mary Jane gave him. He couldn't lie, it was mildly entertaining, enough to keep his attention. So far what he took from it was that dreams were connected to one's mental state when they slept, and deeply rooted within the subconscious. Some say dreams were even used to determine what the gods were saying about them, and have been claimed to predict prophecies and other revelations from higher powers. Higher powers, he mocked in his head. He wasn't no atheist, but he also couldn't confirm nor deny any 'higher powers' that may have existed in the universe. Science calls it energy, religion calls it 'God'. All in all, Ben just wanted the 'truth'. Like about what happened with the other… him. It'd been so long since the last time he saw Natasha - why was she back now? And with this kid who was apparently just like him in every way? It all sounded like an intriguing science-fiction plot, one in which he couldn't shake off. Ben wondered, could it have all been coincidental that the dreams and visions bothering him before happened just before Natasha's return? Who knew.
Suddenly, that 'warning sensation' came back again, raising every hair on his body, just like earlier on the train. Someone was coming to the door. Two knocks sounded. He was right.
"You can come in," he called.
Mary Jane opened the door and walked in. That was the one thing he didn't know ahead of time. He closed the book and put it down next to him.
"You good?" she asked, walking over to the bed.
"Yeah," he said, making room for her to sit.
"And yes, I see you reading that book I gave you."
"It's a lot more entertaining than I thought. I'll give you that.
"I'd never give you something boring. What, you think I have bad taste or something? Gosh," she teased.
"Yeah, you like oatmeal raisin cookies."
She gave him a look, glaring at his growing grin, unable to contain his laughter.
"Mm-hmm, keep it up," she nodded. "Just keep on trying me."
Ben sat up closer to her, still on the bed, and pulled in to kiss her on the cheek. He put his warm arms around her, holding her as she sat on the edge.
"I know it's a twin size bed and all, but we can both still fit, you know," he said, resting his head gently on her shoulder.
"You really wanna do that with your aunt downstairs?" she demurred.
Similar to a silly cartoon character, his eyes shifted down in reference to his aunt, who was probably in her room, hopefully taking a nap, and then shifted back to hers, giving a quick shrug. She chuckled.
"You're a lot bolder than you come off, you know that?" she said.
"Look, I'm just cold," he humored.
MJ laid her head closer to his, making their noses touch as she stayed caught up in his embrace, taking hold of his hands clasped around her waist. He was warm, she thought.
"You wanna talk about what happened earlier?" he softly asked, his breath tickling her neck.
She shrugged. "I… don't know if I have anything to say. Honestly. Like, yeah, I think we can all agree it's weird. But, it's happening somehow. I get you not telling me about your past life and all, but… I'm just still trying to process it, that's all."
"I'd never lie to you, you know that, but I had to hide it for me and Aunt May's… Aunt Martha's protection," he said.
"I guess you can call her that again, at this point," she said, over the whole cover-up identity facade.
"Natasha… she saved us. She saved our lives. And I owe her big time. I'll always feel indebted to her in some way, if she ever came back, if she ever needed anything. Like now."
Mary Jane saw the sincerity in his eyes, and the desperation. After a while, all seriousness aside, it started to make him look cute, she thought. Those eyes would make her do anything he asked for. If he needed her, she'd be there. And he was a genuinely nice guy. MJ could only wish for her parents to meet him sooner like how she was with his aunt so they could know just how great of a guy he was.
She nodded. "Okay," she softly told him. With that, he rested his head back down onto her shoulder again, childlike. "So is Natasha like another version of me or something? You said her hair was naturally red, right?"
He raised his head and looked at her. "I'm not answering that."
She smiled. "Fine. But what do you think about that kid? The other… you?"
"What about him?"
"Like, isn't it crazy that there's literally a doppelganger of you walking around?"
"Well, I can't pretend it hasn't been keeping me up at night. It's unreal, I know. I don't know who he is, or how similar his life is to mine, but I guess we're gonna find out."
