Chapter 5: Everett Ross

Everett Ross strolled through the compound without an escort. He didn't need one. After all his visits to the old Avenger compound, he knew where to go without directions. Hell, he even knew where the kitchen was! He moved through the corridors, briefcase in hand that contained records he wanted to discuss with Tony Stark.

He arrived at Stark's office and let himself in. After all, he was expected.

Tony Stark was at his desk. Not sitting. He hardly ever saw the man sitting down. Always on the move, pacing as he talked out-loud. Colonel Rhodes was in an armchair, relaxed with a coffee in hand. Happy Hogan stood, talking to Tony to the best of his ability as Tony kept shaking his head. The only person to notice Everett's arrival was Pepper Potts.

Pepper was on the couch by herself, feet propped up on a cushion. She had at least three pillows behind her back, supporting her body upright. Her belly was extremely round. She looked about ready to give birth any minute. Despite all of it, Pepper looked composed and relaxed as if she wasn't in her final weeks of pregnancy.

She smiled at Everett. "Everett—you made it."

Everyone else stopped talking and turned to Everett. Tony recovered first. "Big E!"

"Don't call me that," Everett grunted as he walked further into the spacious office that was three times bigger than his own and about a hundred percent nicer. "It's Agent Ross or Everett." He then turned to Pepper. "Ms. Potts—you look great. Glowing, to be frank."

"Don't feel like it," Pepper responded, hand rubbing her belly. "I just want this baby to come out already. Don't know why it's staying inside."

"Probably because it knows how terrible reality is and prefers not to come," Tony wittingly remarked. "Smart devil. Probably my kid."

"Definitely your kid on how many times it likes to kick at night. Keeps me away from my sleep," Pepper volleyed to Tony. She looked back to Everett. "How are you doing, Everett?"

"Good. Can't complain," he replied. "I, um, have my report on the documents you gave to me a few days ago."

Tony joined his fiancé, but didn't take a seat. "Great. Tell us more, Big E."

"It's Everett or Agent Ross."

"No can do," Tony said without explanation. Not that Everett expected he would get one. Tony Stark did whatever he wanted and needed to explain his reasoning to no one. Except Pepper. "Tell us what you found."

Everett let the nickname drop. No point in arguing on it. He moved to sit in one of the chairs, unlocking his briefcase to pull out his analysis report and the records Happy Hogan passed onto him earlier that week. "My team and I scoured the documents, traced the money into different accounts. We managed to narrow it down to these three accounts."

He passed copies of his report to Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and...

"Where's May?" Everett asked, glancing about the room in search for the red-haired beauty. After all, the deal was that she be included in the investigation.

"She's with Peter," Pepper informed him.

"We'll tell her everything," Tony added, flipping through Everett's report. "Or at least, they all will." He gestured to the others, his finger bluntly pointing to Pepper. He took a quick look over the report, his eyes rapidly reading from left to right. "These three accounts are from where?"

He lifted the third page and pointed to a section of numbers. "Oh, that is where things get tricky," he said. "The money deposited into this off-shore accounts were later withdrawn in cash. All of it."

Tony didn't blink. "All of it?" he repeated. "And… no one noticed that much money was being drawn out?"

"I called those banks, but without a proper warrant, I'm not allowed to get a hold of those records," Everett explained. "My guess is that they used that money to finance the murderer. Or whoever for criminal activities."

"Cash is harder to trace, that's for sure," Colonel Rhodes added. "I don't understand though. Most banks notify if the withdrawals are over a certain limit. This clearly is over the limit. All of them are."

"Maybe that's why they picked this unknown bank," Pepper suggested. "Maybe the bank allowed them to do such large withdrawals with no questions asked."

"A shady bank," Tony mocked. "Where is the world coming to when you can no longer trust a bank?"

"Funny, Tony," Colonel Rhodes deadpanned, uninterested in the genius's repertoire. "Do we know who made the withdrawals? Do we have a name?"

Everett pulled out a photograph. "Dr. Mendel Stromm," he answered as he held up the photo for all to see. "He's the business partner of Norman Osborn. Formerly, actually. He retired a few years ago. During his career at Oscorp, he was the head of the Department of Medicine in the company. Was part of a lot of research that helped victims in the army recover from catastrophes."

Happy Hogan hummed as he looked over the photograph. "You mean like the same studies and research Richard Parker was involved?"

Time for the big reveal. "He was Richard Parker's direct superior."

And that confirmation made a lot of sad noises around the room. Tony turned away, rubbing one hand over his face. "Son of a bitch," he growled. "How long does this trail run? You think one madman is enough, you find out there are two in the same company. Hell! They founded a company together!"

"It makes sense, Tones," Colonel Rhodes said. "They are partners. Both would probably do whatever they could to keep their company from falling apart."

"But murder?"

"I didn't say they were exactly sane people," Colonel Rhodes countered. "Just that I'm not surprised. Partners in business. Partners in crime."

Tony Stark snorted. "Yeah, well, they are also going to be partners in a jail cell once I get a hold of them," he growled. "Clearly, this… doctor or whatever, knew something if he's taking out all that money."

"That does seem to be where the evidence points to," Everett agreed.

Tony's unblinking eyes stared straight ahead, his frown deepening. "Right. Then, I say we have a chat with him," he decided. "He's retired right? Plenty of time for him to confess to us."

"What makes you think he will confess?" Happy posed.

"Because I'll give him a reason to confess."

Pepper gave Tony a warning look. "Tony—"

Everett shook his head. "Absolutely not," he declared. "You'll be risking this whole operation if you go. Give me more time and we may be able to subpoena that information without dragging your involvement. We could make it appear as if we are investigating a possible laundering, white-collar crime."

"That'll take too much time!" Tony argued. "If we wait, it gives Osborn the chance to make his move against Peter."

Everett pursed his lips and shook his head. "You're paranoid," he stated. "Osborn has done nothing to Peter. Made no move against him."

"Except murdering his parents and giving him enhanced powers."

"Exactly!" Everett shouted, although he now realized that wasn't the best response. He backtracked on course to the point. "If we give Osborn the slightest indication that we are on to him in regards to Peter, then he may do something we will all regret."

"He could be doing something now!" Tony threw back. "You think Osborn isn't plotting away? I know Norman. He's a genius and a psychopath. He's not going to let his greatest achievement walk away from him."

"He hadn't when Parker was swinging around New York the entire time," Everett reminded Tony.

"That's because he didn't know it was Peter behind the mask!" Tony quarreled. "Thanks to Ross, he knows! With that knowledge, it gives him an advantage he didn't have before."

"Well, I don't imagine Osborn storming here to kidnap Peter," Everett said, hand circling the fortress around them. "It would be a rather stupid and reckless thing to do."

"I wouldn't go past him."

"Tony," Colonel Rhodes interrupted their bickering. "He has a point. I doubt Osborn is going to attack Peter anytime soon. Agent Ross is right. We cannot let Osborn or anyone else know of the investigation. Too many risks of evidence disappearing. Or worse."

"Like jumpstarting Osborn into doing something deadly reckless," illuminated Pepper. "I say we try to get the subpoena, Tony. Do it legal and in a way that won't result in more trouble."

Tony looked to each friend, exasperated. Even Happy Hogan shrugged in agreement with them. Tony flippantly tossed his hands up in defeat, turning his backs to them all as he moved away. He heaved a sigh. "Fine. I don't necessarily agree, but fine," he conceded. "You go ahead with the subpoenas."

"Already having Agent Carter working on it," Everett responded. "I'll let you know when we serve them."

Tony didn't thank him. "Don't forget to validate your ticket before you go."

And apparently that was the signal for his departure. Everett collected his belongings and put them in his briefcase. "I'll send you guys any updates."

"Thank you, Everett," Pepper said, clasping his hand in shake of gratitude. Then, she whispered. "Don't mind Tony. He's glad to have you on our side."

Everett didn't know if that was true. He got up.

"Goodbye, Big E," Tony called from in the back, pouring a glass of scotch. "Again—validate!"

Everett hesitated. "Actually, there's one more thing I need to do."

The door opened and May Parker stood in front of him. One arm was in a cast, but like Pepper, she seemed unaware of her uncomfortable misfortune. "Everett," she acknowledged, opening the door wider. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I stopped by to talk with Stark," Everett said, keeping the conversation at a bare minimum to not expose anything out in the open. "Discussed a few things."

May caught the subtle meaning. "Oh! I wasn't even aware you were coming."

"It was all last-minute."

"Was the conversation enlightening or less so?"

"Depends who you talk to," Everett replied and then, he nudged to her cast. "What happened to your arm?"

May glanced briefly down at it before she moved it out of sight. "Oh, it was an accident. Hit the floor too hard," she brushed off his concerns. "So, um, do you need to speak to me?"

Everett shook his head. "Oh, um, no. I actually came by because I wanted to speak with Peter," he said. "That is... if you don't mind?"

"No, of course not," May said, gesturing him to enter their apartment.

He stepped past the threshold and surveyed the apartment. It didn't look much like a home, but rather a safe house. Bland and empty. It was hardly decorative and the furniture itself was sparse. Probably because time didn't allow them.

May closed the door. "So, um, I'll go get him. Make yourself comfortable," she said, moving down the hallway.

Everett didn't take a seat. He stood and waited. He heard a few muffled voices carry from down the hallway, but he didn't try to focus on the words. A minute later, May returned with a boy that Everett recognized well.

Peter Parker beamed. "Agent Ross!"

"Peter," Everett returned and going in for a handshake, Peter opted for an embrace. So, Everett hugged him in return.

They parted and Everett took the time to look over the kid. The last time he saw Peter, he was but a boy, lost and confused. Now, he looked a bit taller, darker and more mature. A young man. The boy forgotten behind on his journey home.

All things considered, Peter looked good. Healthy. And when the kid smiled, it reminded Everett of the boy he met back in Wakanda.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked.

"Oh—I had a few things I needed to talk to Stark about and since I was here, figured I would see how you were doing," Everett said. He looked to May. "Is there a place we can speak privately?"

May excused herself, telling Peter and Everett she was going to visit Pepper. Everett understood it as code to learn what she missed from the earlier meeting. She placed a kiss on Peter's forehead, told him she would be home later and walked out the apartment to give Everett and Peter privacy.

The two have been alone since nine months ago. In February when Everett watched the kid disappear on a private jet. Never heard from him again either. In all that time, Everett wondered about the kid. Wondered how he was doing and where he was, while Everett spent his days digging into the files of Norman Osborn and Oscorp while simultaneously betraying his superior officer.

In all, Everett guessed they both changed since the last time they saw one another.

Peter turned to Everett. "Wanna see my room? Come on!"

Everett followed Peter to a bedroom. It looked the same as the living room. Bare walls, little furniture and no sense of theme. The only reason Everett figured it to be Peter's bedroom were the science books on the desk and a robotic arm on the nightstand. Everything else was simple in design. Like a hotel.

"I know it's not much," Peter said as if he read Everett's thoughts. "We haven't had the time to get around to ordering things. We're still waiting on word if we're getting our belongings back from the government. Is that why you're here?"

"Um, no," Everett roamed the room, examining the robotic arm. "Did you build this?"

Everett jumped in a startle when the robotic arm moved to him, jerking its arm toward him. Peter rushed over, crawling over the bed to the nightstand with the robotic arm. "Oh, don't mind Dumbo," he said. "He's moves to greet any new voice he hears. You can shake his hand if you want."

Everett's eyes lingered uneasily at the robot. "I think I'll pass," he said. "So… did you build it or did Stark?"

"I did," Peter proudly stated, tapping the robotic arm. The robot went limp.

"Very impressive," Everett complimented. "Is that all it does?"

"So far," Peter said. "He used to hit the snooze button for me and turn off the lights, but he doesn't have to do that anymore."

"Because you decided you can do it yourself?"

Peter cracked a grin. "No, because I have KAREN."

"Karen?" Was that a babysitter? Isn't the kid too old for a nanny?

Peter pointed up. "Say hi to Agent Ross, KAREN."

A voice ahead boomed. "Hello, Agent Everett Ross. How are you doing?"

Everett scanned the walls and ceiling, searching around for some sort of speaker. "What the—"

"KAREN is an AI," Peter clarified for him. "Kind of like what FRIDAY is, but KAREN is programmed for me. And, no. I didn't build her. Tony did."

"And this… KAREN," Everett said, eyeing the walls suspiciously, "can hear and see everything?"

Peter nodded. "Yep, well, only in this room. Aunt May didn't want an AI in our apartment, but compromised with having KAREN placed in my room."

"And why do you need KAREN if you already have a robot?"

Peter bowed his head and looked away. "It's complicated," he said, forgetting all about the robots. "So—what are you doing here? What did you and Mr. Stark talked about?"

Everett moved to sit on the bed beside the kid. "Oh, well, nothing in general. About Thaddeus Ross and clearing up on a few things," he said. "Talking to Stark wasn't the only reason I came here. I could have done that over the phone. I actually stopped by to see you."

"Really?" Peter asked. "Why?"

"Well, because there's a rumor going around that you had a birthday recently," Everett said, watching Peter give himself away with a tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth. "Sixteen years old now?"

"Yeah. March 1."

"Then that calls for something," Everett reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, wrapped box. "Happy Birthday."

Peter went wide-eyed at the gift. "Oh… you didn't have to give me a gift," he said. "That was ages ago. I'll be seventeen soon enough anyway."

"It's okay. Sixteen is a more important birthday than seventeen," Everett said and handed the gift to Peter. "Sixteen marks the day you become a man. No longer a child." He gestured to the gift. "Go ahead. Open it."

Peter delicately unwrapped the small box. He tore the paper off, revealing a black, square case. He opened it. Inside, resting on cotton balls, was an American Waltham A-11 watch with military green band and silver hands pointing to the correct time.

Peter looked amazed. "Wow," he muttered, pulling the watch out of the box and holding it delicately between his fingers. "It's nice."

"And very old," Everett added. "Belonged to my grandfather. Had it with him through World War II. Apparently it was the watch that helped won the war. If you believe in that nonsense."

Peter's expression dropped from amazed to bug-eyed shock. "Oh, I-I can't accept this," he said, shoving the watch back to Everett. "No… I can't take something that belongs to your family."

Everett pushed the watch back to the kid. "It's okay. I want you to have it," he said. "My grandfather passed it onto my father when he turned sixteen and then my father gave it to me when I was sixteen.

"And seeing as I don't have any kids and probably never will, I figured I would give it to you," Everett said, giving a small shrug "You turned sixteen and... well, you're the closest thing I have to a son."

Strange how emotionally attached Everett became toward the kid. He recalled a time when he argued with T'Challa about taking on the responsibilities of a teenager. But, it quickly changed and soon, Everett and Peter bonded over meals and car trips, talking and arguing about anything and everything. That seemed years ago now. Even their one-month adventure felt too far in the past to be remembered and yet, Everett still pictured the young boy, trying his best not to squint as he aimed a gun at a pile of rocks.

The confession didn't faze Peter though. Almost like he already knew long ago. Probably even before Everett knew. Yet, the kid lowered his gaze, fidgeting on the bed as he tried to restrain a smile. "T-Thanks, sir. That… that means a lot," he said. "You're a great parent."

Everett didn't quite believe that to be true, but he accepted the compliment in good grace. He glanced to the watch. "Here, let me help," he said, taking the watch from Peter and wrapping it around his right wrist. It snugged comfortably against the kid's thin wrist. "There… looks good on you."

Peter turned his wrist over, admiring the vintage watch. "It's really nice," he murmured. "Thank you. I promise I'll take good care of it. I swear!"

"Good," Everett said with a small chuckle. "Now you have something else to wear on your wrists other that those web shooters."

That garnered an amused smile from Peter. "I still have those by the way," he said. "Haven't used them lately though."

"And I doubt you will for some time," said Everett, thinking of the improbability of Peter ever heading back to Queens. "In the meantime, what do you do around here? Besides messing about with robots."

"Oh, um, I guess," Peter said, mulling over his daily activities. "I don't really do that much. I spend some of my time with Mr. Stark. Helping him with his small projects. We talk then too. Just about stuff. Then I… I guess I exercise. I have this routine that helps me stay focus and alert. But, um, that's it really. Nothing much."

Didn't seem a thrilling lifestyle compared to what he was used to in the past year. "I'm sure you'll find more things to do once you've settled," he said. "You've only been here for… what? Two days?"

"Five days," Peter responded, holding up five fingers. "And, I guess so. Hope so."

There was a pause before Peter spoke again. "Hey, Agent Ross?"

"Yeah?"

"Wanna shoot some hoops?"

"Okay… Okay," rattled Everett as he snatched the basketball before it bounced off the court. "I change my mind. I want you to go back to playing poorly."

They were outside on the basketball court. The weather was

Peter crooked him a half-smile. "I thought you wanted me to do my best. That you could handle it."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think your aim got any better than the last time I saw you," Everett confessed as he threw the basketball to Peter.

The kid caught it with one hand. "I practiced a bit," he said, moving around the middle court to find a place. He took aim again and released the ball in a powerful arch. The basketball flew up in the air and swished down into the netted basket. "Your turn!"

Everett grabbed the ball again and exchanged places with Peter. He carefully aimed the ball. The net in sight. All he had to do was a nice throw straight into the basket. He only needed the right amount of force and it would spare him from embarrassment.

Everett bent his knees. He raised the ball up in his hands. He took one last look. Then, he sprung up, shooting the ball right at the net. He watched, following the spinning ball in the air. It hit the backboard and circled the rim. Everett urged it to fall into the net, nearly begging it to do as told.

But the ball slipped and fell off the rim. It bounced once. Twice. Then a quiet dribble as it drifted away from Everett's defeat.

Everett dropped his chin to his chest as Peter announced the score. "E!" Peter declared. "And that spells HORSE. You losing your groove, Agent Ross."

"Not my groove," Everett countered, brushing a hand down the side of his face. "Just my dignity. I'll find it somewhere else."

Peter swooped in beside Everett. "Wanna play another round? We can spell something different this time. I mean, we already did PIG, DUCK, and HORSE. Maybe… we can spell PANTHER?"

Everett shook his head. "No. No more. I lost too many and I don't feel like losing again."

"I'll go easy. I promise!"

"Nope," Everett said, rolling down his sleeves. He headed over to the bench where he discarded his suit-jacket. "Besides, I have to get going."

Peter groaned, but accepted the inevitable. "Got bad guys to catch?" he questioned, picking up the basketball and dribbling it around him. "Or runaways you have to hide?"

"Not anymore," Everett responded, slipping into his jacket. "I have to prepare for the others' arrival."

Peter stopped dribbling the ball. "The others?" he repeated. "What others? Who's coming?"

Everett fixed the ends of his jacket so that it fitted properly. "All of them," he answered and he looked back to Peter. "They're coming home."