Ladies, gentlemen, and others, it's time I get blatant about a few things I've been hinting. In this universe, there are only two divergences (excluding the SI). Those divergences make and have made a few differences. Those differences go a very, very long way. A temporarily restrained SI is the LEAST of the bullshit you should be worried about. In this arc, you will see one such divergence - and yes, it does exist in both the comics and the MCU.
Let's get started.
Four Months Earlier.
Wanda knew she was in for what might, physically speaking, be the worst time of her life the moment Thaddeus Ross told her she would not be imprisoned in the same block of the prison as the other Avengers. Being naked from the waist down might've confirmed that, too.
"You," he told her, his voice transmitted through the lone speaker in the room, "are a Class Omega enhanced, with the power to destroy at least an entire city block, as demonstrated in Lagos. In addition to aiding and abetting fugitives Steve Rogers, Samuel Wilson, and James Barnes in Leipzig, your power is a demonstrable threat to the general public. Therefore, in accordance with the Sokovia Accords, you will be detained in The Raft indefinitely, without trial, for their safety."
She did not retort, and he expected none.
After all, she could not retort, only make a muffled, wordless sound of protest he likely could not hear from his comforts outside the soundproofed cell. She could not move, for they were thorough after they'd arrested and sedated her - at some point in her unconscious stupor, she had been mounted and bound on an exoskeleton, on which her movements were completely at its mercy. According to an entirely different voice on the speaker, before Ross introduced himself and sentenced her, the exoskeleton puppeteered her limbs and fingers to prevent muscular degradation, moving it in predetermined twitches, no matter how much she resisted. Her captors knew she hadn't the sheer physical strength to break her bonds, and so they'd bound all her limbs - even, perhaps especially, her fingers. She could not even shift her head or torso without its remit.
They left her in the dark. Literally - the lights in the cell went off, plunging her into a terrible, unending black.
For a minute, she found a spark of hope when she realized they hadn't outfitted her with Stark's power-dampening bracer, likely because they did not know how her power was transmitted, and that, as promised, he'd destroyed every blueprint and existing dampener he'd made. She felt it, under her skin - she could at least flex her power. She could not control it - it depended on her bodily movement to do anything she wished it to - but it was not restricted. Or so she thought, for the moment she tried, she lit up in an agony so pervasive, so powerful, she could not scream. The cruelty was interminable, unending, and she could only gasp in shock when it seemed done.
Another function, she realized. They can't suppress my power, but somehow, they can detect when I use it.
"Do not use your abilities," the voice on the speaker commanded flatly. "Further attempts will be regarded as an escape attempt, and you will be killed to defend this facility."
The minute died out like the hope in her heart.
She hungered, and her only source of sustenance was an IV they'd fitted into the exoskeleton and a tumbler of water sent down with a robotic arm that she drank through a straw. She could not know the passage of time. She could not even keep the dignity she'd always had to piss or shit properly - the exoskeleton took care of that, too, which explained her partial nudity. All she could do was imagine. And her imagination went a long, long way.
She wanted to be free. She wanted to beat the living shit out of Stark. She wanted to find Vision, to talk to him. She wanted to go somewhere far, far away, where no human would ever find her again.
Before she could, though... she wanted to murder whoever created the exoskeleton, and Thaddeus Ross.
She had no idea how long she was stuck in the dark. She imagined all kinds of horrors crawling, lurking in the dark. She imagined her warden leering, laughing at her suffering. With time she could not measure for long, she could imagine Pietro's voice in the darkness, in the basement in which they were trapped for ten days. She imagined her conversations with Vision, their thoughts over the uniqueness of their existence. She imagined the world moving, moving up, moving down, rocking and rolling as if out at sea. She imagined a universe of wonder, of power, of chaos, so far away, yet, somehow, so tantalizingly close she could touch it, were she free. She imagined, after a time, a man she never saw before, kind hazel eyes, hands made to travel past the skies and into universes infinite. She imagined his name; he told her. She mouthed his name, again and again, so she would not forget it.
She imagined Steve Rogers showing her light once more, undoing every last one of her restraints with furious movements, and carrying her out of the facility.
It took her, according to Natasha, ten hours before she realized Steve Rogers and her departure from the raft was, in fact, not a hallucination. It took her eight days to recover. It took her three weeks to get back into decent physical shape. She'd been imprisoned on the Raft, a prison based in the middle of the Atlantic, for nearly four months.
And it took Natasha five weeks. After all those years, just five weeks.
So there I was, in my favorite delicatessen, mindin' my own business, then I walked out thinking I was gonna go home, pick up my suit, maybe patrol for a couple hours - and only a couple of hours because that was probably the maximum I could get out of negotiations with May. There was that whole thing with Toomes earlier, so she'd figured me for a tired Spider, told me to take the ground like most people in New York.
"I'm pretty sure most people in New York take the subway or have their own cars or a cab on call," I argued with a joculent air of defiance.
"You are utterly and statistically wrong, and we can Google that right now." She reached for her phone, but my webline was much faster, and I sideflipped over the table before she could tackle me for her phone. She gave me an incredulous stare in contrast to my challenging grin.
"Trust your nephew, May," I teased, gesturing for her to cool her jets. "He's only one of New York's smartest teenagers - hey!" I ducked away from her swiping hand. "None of that, please! We're in a civilized household!"
"If he's so smart, what's he got to lose?" she bantered back. "Google it. Go ahead."
I gave her a considering look. "Mm... nah." I tossed the phone over my shoulder contemptuously, caught it with another line without looking, and reeled it back into my waiting palm.
"Don't do that," May pointed warningly. "Seriously, I know we practised the shit out of that, but that's expensive. That's an actual phone."
"Even in the incredibly unlikely scenario that I drop it, I can actually fix it," I reassured her, hanging it from a clinging finger just because I could. "I found spares when I was scavenging -"
"Peter Benjamin Parker, I swear to God -"
Anyway, I was fine with walking, I got my sammich, made for home, patrol saved for the next day, everything was good.
And then I saw one of the most wanted fugitives/war criminals (WTF?) in America, cutely thinking the black cap kept her hidden. Aaaand because of course I did, what else would I do but save her ass from a sniper shot (because I honestly could've just dodged the bullet and they wouldn't mind me) and drag her into my favorite deli, my sandwich in my pocket, and myself into a... an honestly twisted motherfucking mess.
(Also, I got a massive, temporary, conditional upgrade to my Spider-Sense. Example? I detected a sniper firing the bullet from a long way away when normally, I'd detect the bullet, dodge the bullet, and then figure out where the sniper was with Peter's super brain and deal with them. More on that later, it's... complicated?)
God, where could one even begin with it?
The beginning, I guess. Right. Beginning's good as any.
So I was askin' her what in the world she was committing elaborate suicide for, and she was right there with a blank look on her face.
"Miss Maximoff?" I tried again. "Miss Max - Wanda?"
She was far away. Her eyes were glazed, as if she was seeing something else entirely. Her eyes were so beautiful - I could see flecks of red interspersed with her hazel eyes, it really brought out -
Dude! I stilled in embarrassment. You're letting teenage hormones run in the middle of a potential fucking fight, are you fucking kidding me!?
I pursed my lips and tapped her on the shoulder. A small shudder ran through me when I felt a weird jolt.
Somehow, that got her attention back on me - I wasn't sure if she was shell-shocked by coming so close to death or something, but her eyes snapped back onto me.
"Peter?" she said, breathily, but I heard her perfectly. Wait, what?
"Wha... That's my name. How do you know that name?" I asked, maybe a little more forcefully than I intended.
"I...I don't... are you...?"
I opened my mouth, an even bigger bevy of questions begging to burst abound. But my Spider-Sense shut me up, forcing me to look towards the door, then the windows. A team of four. Not heavily armed, but they will find you with her, correctly assume you are helping the woman, and they will shoot at you. They are covering both sides of the front door; will see you exiting the front door due to vacating crowd. Sniper will also see you using frontal exit, and will shoot at you within twenty seconds. Approach, thirty-four feet and thirty-six feet away. Will be in arm's reach of deli door in twenty-six seconds -
I had no idea why my Spidey-Sense was being straight-up precognitive all of a sudden (as far as I knew, that was bullshit except with a couple exceptions, of which Peter Parker was not one), but it was incredibly useful.
Wanda and I snapped our gazes onto each other. Our timing was incredibly exacting, as if we had one mind, but that wasn't the shocker.
"Okay. Acquaintances later. We need to go..." we both said, at the exact same time, same tone, we even slowed concurrently when we realized what was happening.
"Uh, what?" I goggled.
She looked as confused as I was.
Why was being around Wanda so weird all of a sudden? Nothing had happened by all accounts the last time we'd met. What changed? What was happening?
"Jinx? Jinx," I quipped dryly, and turned to Mr. Delmar, who'd apparently ducked under his counter - he hadn't noticed Wanda, which was fine with me.
"Out the back," I told her; she nodded in assent. We joined him. He was checking over the counter - I was incredibly, perfectly, inexplicably aware of the exact positions of the enemy, almost as if I had tracers on them. They'd slowed - some news on the comms.
Why is my Spider-Sense being so weird? Never did this before.
"Mr. Delmar?" I hissed at him. "Your back door open?"
"It's dangerous out there," he hissed. "Are you crazy? Didn't you hear the gunshot? Who's that? Is she okay?"
"I'm fine, thank you," Wanda offered. He couldn't see her face, thank God.
"She's fine. But it's gonna be a lot worse if we stay here, Mr. Delmar," I told him. "Is it open or not?"
"Madre de Dios -"
"Del! Her kid's out there!" I hissed, quite literally lying through my teeth. "There's no time!"
He tossed me the keys. "It'll lock itself when you close it. Stay out of sight. Don't make me regret this!"
"Tell Sergio to stay out of this area for now!" I hissed back - Sergio had been off getting a few supplies. "Did you call him? Call him!"
"Sure, sure!" Mr. Delmar took his phone out. "Stay safe, damn you!"
Fuck. My Spider-Sense went off again. They know she has a helper. One man broken off the group. Will cover the back. Will arrive in fifteen seconds and shoot at you on sight if seen exiting the back with the woman. Backup in ten minutes, will also shoot at you on sight or box you in the building, in which they will also shoot at you on sight. GET OUT.
My head twinged; I withheld a grunt at the discomfort - that was too much. I turned back to Wanda and urgently jerked my head at the staff access.
"Where can we go?" She asked when we stepped outside. Five seconds.
My lips set in a determined line, and I double-tapped my wrists together, activating my web-shooters. "Up."
"U -?" Wanda started, then squeaked in surprise when I grabbed her, carrying her in my arms, and jumped, landing on the roof of Mr. Delmar's. I almost missed my jump, some weird thing coming into my line of sight and flickering away, and that weird jolt became a constant buzz not entirely unlike the not-Spider-Sense I felt earlier.
She gaped at me. "How did you...?"
"No time." I turned my back to her, readying myself for a piggyback ride. "Get on my back. Hold tight."
After a moment of hesitation, she did as I asked, facilitating my ability to leap off to another building -
I grunted, seeing an impossible, hazy crimson flicker of a human being come into my sight, and shook my head, blinking it off. Focus. Ignore that. We need to get on the roof.
The image went away, and I finished my crawl onto the roof. We stopped moving, then - we were out of immediate danger, and I wanted to get eyes on these fuckers - Baby Monitor for later.
The guy had missed us by one second, and the sniper apparently hadn't the line of sight on us or they were out of the picture. Man down there was dressed in a suit, carrying a 1911 just under the jacket. They'd clearly tried doing things discreetly - or, more likely, had been forced to. An airport was one thing, but good fucking luck evacuating people in New York City to hunt down one person when she specifically wasn't going on any sort of rampage and would much rather fuck off than fight as her first resort. A rather shocking show of subtlety from Ross, all told.
"Oh. Oh, wow. That's why you sounded so familiar. You're that guy," she realized when I made it to the roof of the adjacent building. "From airport. The Spider... Mr. Spider... Spider... Spider-Kid?"
"Spider-Man," I corrected absently, fishing in my back pocket for a treasured accessory as we walked to the opposite end. "Spider-Kid just doesn't have the same ring to it."
"You're young," she said. "Really young. Stark asked you to fight us?"
"And I didn't fight anyone, I just threw webs and ran away then got my ass kicked by Captain America."
"Sure. Who are you calling?"
"Nobody, not yet." It was about the size of an 8-inch phone, looked like one and worked like one too (I used my normal phone instead because it was super incognito - while people knew about the Stark Internship (Flash didn't believe it and I didn't give a shit what he didn't believe), having a big-ass phone, never mind an unknown StarkPhone, become a known was a huge no-no), but it was so much more. I held it carefully and double-tapped it against my clavicles, where it immediately broke down and swarmed across my neck and face, forming my helmet. My HUD flickered to life.
Tony fucking Stark, everyone.
"Wow. You're younger than I thought."
"You're barely twenty yourself, yet here we are," I retorted, my voice becoming altered - not distorted, altered - by the helmet. 'Twas an addition I'd insisted on when we were making final tweaks to its software. I really wanted to cut out all the bullshit moments where people would make the connection simply by hearing Peter Parker and Spider-Man speak. With the alterations on, I sounded like a young Tom Hardy. Tony wanted to give me a bassier, slightly more gravelly voice, something like the "non-extra version of Enhanced Interrogation Mode" (still off limits to me, but I did not give a fuuuuuck about that one. Batman voice on Spider-Man was a ridiculous idea; there were other ways to be intimidating). We argued about the voice for five minutes and he gave me the Tom Hardy voice just to shut me up.
I looked at her. "Anyway, we need to move -"
"- The sniper might find us," she finished. She said exactly what I was going to say.
"Why...?" I tried. "What is going on here?"
"Hello Peter," Karen greeted.
"Hi, Karen!" I greeted back, holding up a finger to pause my conversation with Wanda. "I'm sorry, but can I get back to you in ten seconds?"
"Very well." She quieted down. Back to Wanda.
"Who's Karen?"
"Long story short, she's -"
"- Your assistant?"
I paused. This was the third time.
"...Is this some kind of Groundhog Day deal?" I asked. "How -"
"- am I finishing your sentences?" she finished.
"Yeah, that. Are you stuck in a time loop? Or is it simpler and you're just, I dunno reading my mind?"
"No, I don't think so," she shook her head. "I have to be in... active contact to feel for a person's mind, to know what they think, to... influence it. But you... I-I-I don't understand. This is the first time this has ever happened like this. How do I...?" She swiveled her hand next to her head, considering how to explain what she wanted to explain. "There are short... bursts. When they happen, I feel what you're feeling, especially when you... sense danger. I knew about the men, too. I felt them coming, the way you felt them coming. Sometimes, it extends to knowing what you're thinking, but... not always."
"Does it work like this with anyone else?"
"No." She shook her head. "Just you. I thought... when I came here, I felt a-a pull... I had to be here, there was something I felt connected to. I thought it was... I don't know what I thought it was, but I've only ever felt this connection with Pietro. I don't know you, I don't know why this happened. This pull is... different. I thought it was Vision. I thought..."
"This feels like a bad fanfiction," I muttered. "Okay, I'm not Vision, but I can probably get you to him. We gotta go. Get out of the whole area in case they bring in a chopper or a drone or something."
Wanda moaned in protest, but knew there was no point. We had to move. She took a deep breath and got on my back.
I inhaled softly at the not-danger buzz and the red haze coming to life again, and I phased it out with a strong shake of my head. What's going on?
"Brace yourself, Wanda," I told her, but she didn't respond. I was confused until I saw Inner Voice Protocol Activated on the upper left corner of my HUD, which cut out my voice from reaching outside my helmet. I frowned in confusion - I hadn't asked Karen to enable it. I hadn't even cleared my throat in a pattern like we'd coded in. What gives?
"Hey, Karen. Um, why is the Inner Voice Protocol activated?"
"Peter," Karen interjected, "according to my facial recognition, you're interacting with a woman that bears a heavy resemblance Wanda Maximoff."
"That's... usually how dialogue works, yes," I said dryly.
"Under NOPE Protocols, I am compelled to send a warning to the Principal, in case she endangers you."
Oh, right. No wonder.
(Side note: NOPE = Not On Planet Earth. Tony had a very explicit list of things that would trigger the shit out of that protocol should I come within eyesight or hearing range of them, which we'd discussed in detail for five minutes while I was making my new suit. Coming into contact with any of the "rogue" Avengers (he made those finger quotes, man was way more cavalier about enforcing the Accords than he was in the comics) - or even the retired "Celldweller" - was obviously on that list. Side note, we had weird negotiations about alien invasion protocols.)
I jumped off the roof, and Wanda clung on to me even harder, screaming as if she was going to die. That was fair - doing this had scared the shit out of me too, the first time.
"She's the one in danger, Karen," I told her, "but yeah, call him anyway. Got a neat bit of story for him."
"I've already notified him. He's on his way."
"ETA?"
"Six minutes, thirty-four seconds and counting."
"Oh, my god," I muttered, swinging upwards. Knowing him, he was in a real tizzy. "Call him. I'll clear up any misunderstandings."
"Hey, kid," he greeted casually, but I could hear the edge in his voice. "Doing anything stupid today?"
"Couple things, yeah," I admitted easily. "The usual hanging around. Swinging from dangerous heights. Not a lot that's new, to be honest."
"Nothing at all?"
"I'm not actually in danger, if that's what you're asking. Just called so I could head off any untoward reactions."
"Oh? Like?"
"Like, I dunno, telling Ross and his goonies that I'm the one that saved Miss Maximoff from a sniper headshot."
There was a pause. "I'm sorry, there must've been a highly unusual glitch in our connection. It's not prone to happen, but I haven't figured out those QECs from the space opera game you showed me just yet, so it happens. I thought I just heard you say you were in the vicinity of another headshot? In less than two days? This, on top of doing the exact thing we agreed you wouldn't do?"
"I was just minding my own business and eating my favorite sandwich five minutes ago. It's still in my pocket, begging me to finish it off right now."
"And where's our resident Not-So-Wicked Witch?"
"Hitching a ride on my back. We're getting out of the general area before they send in some flyers."
I heard him sigh; Wanda and I ducked onto an old, abandoned building due for demolition, I kicked the roof access door open, and I guided her in. Wanda hadn't heard a word of our conversation, and she hadn't volunteered a word just yet. She was just about hyperventilating. To be fair, she didn't web-sling often.
"Five minutes, where you are. We're gonna have a nice talk over coffee."
"That we do. And please, don't bring out the big guns. She's not a threat, and that won't change unless one of us screws the pooch."
"Is it me or do you seem to have short-term memory issues? 'Cause I heard you the first time."
"Yeah, well, it bears - hmph! - it bears repeating."
"Fine. I'll bring crumpets. Sheesh, kid, you have ways."
He cut the call.
"Could you disable Inner Voice, Karen?" I asked her. "We're good."
I looked around, unsure whether it was wise to take my helmet off or not. A moment of consideration, and I decided to value caution. "You okay?" I asked Wanda.
"I would," she said shakily, "r-really appreciate if we just... walked, or use a car. Even a bicycle! We are never doing that again!"
"Don't worry," I reassured, "It gets way easier after the first time."
"Never again!" she argued, shivering and rubbing the sides of her head.
"You can lift things with your mind, right?"
She grunted in affirmation, still probably fighting the adrenaline comedown.
"So you do realize, even with the non-existent chances of me dropping you, you can actually just apply your telekinesis on yourself and float or fly, right?"
She froze.
"Y-you can..." I stared at her, "right?"
She took a breath. "Yeah. I could..." she paused, probably realizing she'd placed a little too much emphasis on that last word and would thus appear to be realizing that she could try it out rather than just confirming it with the confidence of experience, "I could do that. Yes."
"There you have it. Mr. Stark will be here in five minutes, by the way," I notified Wanda, who stood right back up as if she'd sat on a hot poker.
"You called Stark?!" she exclaimed.
"I had to. My assistant recognized you, and she thought I was in danger, so she sent him a distress signal. I had to call him to cut off any overreactions, I told him everything's okay, you're not a -"
"No." she shook her head in horror. "I can't let him see me. The Avengers aren't safe. He'll put me back in that Raft -"
"No, he won't." I grabbed her shoulder, squeezing it to reassure her.
"You don't know that!" she yelled, jerking her shoulder away. She turned to walk for it.
"You guys have already escaped," I tried, following her. "I know, factually, objectively, there is no freaking way he'd go ahead and put you all back at first opportunity. Ross, sure, that's probably why he sent that little team -"
"Stark already sent us to the Raft!" she yelled, turning on me angrily. "He screwed us!"
"Miss Maximoff, he didn't screw you." I looked her in the eye. "Well, he didn't screw you too hard -"
"I was imprisoned in the Raft for three months," she said flatly. "I barely got anything to drink or eat. I was not allowed to even move."
"Shit." Fuck, they locked her up that badly? "Alright, he screwed you."
"Good. Thank you. I am happy you see this."
"He's not gonna put you back in there."
She glared at me. "I'm sorry, but I have no wish to bet on that."
"He worked with people that screwed him over," I tried. "That shit over there at Mr. Delmar's? That was all Ross. Mr. Stark's kind of got a bad history with people like Ross. You remember this guy, Ob -"
"Obadiah Stane?" She nodded. "Yeah. I know about him. It was why I didn't kill Stark. He did not kill my parents, I accepted that. But he -"
"He doesn't really care about any of this anymore. He's annoying Ross to no end. He's not directly violating the Accords, but he's definitely not helping Ross find you guys again."
She opened her mouth, came up with no immediate response. She sighed, and then asked, "Why don't I believe you?"
"If I'm lying, you can use me as a hostage, I'll help you go somewhere of your choosing where you can escape. Are we in agreement?"
Her breaths were heaving a little with the intensity of her anxiety. She looked away from me, considering my proposal. "Even if it means... alienating your relationship with Stark?"
"Why not? I was always prepared for the possibility."
She ground her jaw, then pointed a finger at me. Her eyes glowed with menace, and my Spider-Sense went off. Angry woman. Intends to break your wrists and throw you out the building if you upset her.
"Don't screw with me, Spider-Man."
"You have my word," I promised. "So when he's here... actually, help me out here. You never answered... why are you here?"
She looked at me for several moments. Her stare was so intense that it made me feel increasingly awkward.
"Uh - if you don't - you don't have to -"
"I needed to be. I saw..."
"What did you see?" I asked her, then shook my head. Wait. What if I... no, don't complete that thought. Go for it. "Actually, no. Show me."
"What?"
"You can show me what you saw, right? Easier than explaining?"
"I-I can, but..." Her eyes glimmered with surprise and uncertainty. "Are you sure? People hate it when I mess with their minds."
"I think I can forgive it, this one time." I flashed her a small smile, not that she saw it.
"Stark would kill me for this."
"You let me worry about that." I held out my hand.
"Are you sure?"
"Trust has to start somewhere, right?" I nodded - it was the biggest chance I'd have. "I'm sure."
"I..." she frowned, confused, then her hands went for my head. "No, I need to..."
"Oh? 'Kay then." I tapped on the back of my helmet rhythmically, so the helmet collapsed into a thick necklace.
"Last chance. Are you sure?" she asked once more.
"Go for it." The Spider-Sense, at the very least, didn't go off.
When she touched me, that not-Spider-Sense buzz went off again. This time, I inhaled and exhaled, then embraced the sensation.
The world turned red.
Then we both fell away, and the world vanished.
I gasped awake.
It took a moment to place myself in the hazy, unfamiliar world I'd stepped into, but I was in Titan. My fist throbbed familiarly - I'd just punched something. Or someone. Thanos. This is the fight with Thanos.
A portal opened before me, revealing a stumbling Thanos. My foot drew back unaided, the way I'd been puppeteered so many times by The Fucker, and I kicked him in the face.
Another portal opened, and into darkness -
- And out from the darkness, into light.
Thanos wasn't there.
New York was.
What the fuck? What did Strange do?!
"You shitty bastards!" I cursed.
The world fell away.
I gasped awake, and looked around.
Titan, again.
"Kid?" Tony called, limping over. He was older than I expected. "You're okay."
"Why the gray hairs?" I asked.
"Oh, no. That's on you -"
My Spider-Sense went off, sharp, hard, so hard it hurt -
RUN HIDE JUMP DUCK DO SOMETHING YOU'RE GOING TO DIE YOU'RE GOING TO DIE RUN HIDE YOU'RE GOING TO DIE -
I saw my hand turning into dust. Then I saw Tony's horrified face -
I tried to reassure him. "Don't pani -"
The world fell away.
I gasped awake.
Earth. It had a reddish haze, but I was absolutely certain it was Earth.
A...suburb? Nowhere near any familiar places I'd ever known. It had a lot of those ugly late 1990s to early 2000s cars.
I was walking towards a house, a tray of eggs in hand and an empty basket in the other, danced up the steps, and knocked on the door. My body was buzzing with a constant, nervous energy that I could apparently do nothing about.
I startled at seeing another unfamiliar face reflected in the door's glass...
...Why the fuck did I have a mustache? Jesus! I looked like Tom Holland's evil twin, Jerry Netherlands or some shit.
The door opened, and Wanda appeared with a smile.
"Hey, Mrs Maximoff!" I greeted cheerfully, holding the basket up. "Trick or treat!"
"Peter! You're here!" Her joyful expression faded a little, curiosity settling in its place. "Why the suit?"
"Oh, I decided to dress as John Constantine. It suits the magic theme, right?"
"Only as long as you don't annoy any demons," she replied wryly. "And you got the eggs without any further accidents this time, nice. Your Parker luck did cut you some slack for once, hm?"
"Well, it settled for cutting my outfit." I gestured ruefully at said cleanly-cut shirt and trench coat. Thankfully, it missed the tie and my body. "It seems Agnes's lawn mower had a sharp mishap... but it's great! I can just tell the kids I was battling a Displacer Beast - needless to say, it's been displaced." I winked. "It's going to be a fantastic tale!"
What the hell is all this?
The world fell away.
I gasped awake.
A woman I did not recognize stood in front of Wanda and I, holding some book that radiated menace. For some reason, I was holding Wanda's hand.
"No more," we both told her. "No more of this bullshit."
We both held our free hands out towards her. My eyes couldn't even widen when I saw Wanda's magic spark to life in my hand, and I felt pure, raw power channeling itself through us. My Spider-Sense thrummed pleasantly, presenting all the dangers she could throw at us. I grounded us in the present and the future.
The bitch was not going to win.
"You will not defeat me," she grinned diabolically. "You will serve!"
"Oh, my god," I hissed. "Do me a favor and don't sound like a fuckin' Saturday morning cartoon bad guy. Fight with some damn dignity!"
We blasted her, and the epic battle began.
I gasped awake.
New York. Manhattan. I was falling.
I instinctively threw a line out and swung, confused about where and why I was going.
A helicopter came into view - a news helicopter. Then another. Then another. Then another. They were all facing me. I saw a screen, in the distance, showing me shooting Quentin Beck in the head.
I swung around a corner, and screamed when THE FUCKING GREEN GOBLIN FLEW INTO MY FACE -
The world fell away, and THANK FUCKING GOD.
I gasped awake.
New York. Again. Some alleyway. I knew it was New York from the smell and the noise.
I raised my fists, steadying my body, readying myself. My footwork was fine. I could beat him.
Taskmaster, the menacing mirror, rolled his shoulders and raised his fists, in the exact same stance. No dumb cape, just a shield at the back and pure fury rolling through him.
Whatever the fuck it was I'd done to piss Taskmaster off... well, congratulations, Peter.
"C'mon. Show me what you learned from her, kid," Taskmaster demanded, voice distorted, angry. "Show me why she thought you were worth more than the dirt under her boot."
The world fell away.
I gasped awake.
"What do you wanna call it?" a man asked me. Asian - Chinese, specifically. He didn't seem to have noticed that I'd snapped out of some kind of funk.
Probably because I never was in a funk. I needed to get Wanda back, and I needed all the advantages I could get. That was it. That was the mission. I could focus on that. I didn't need to think about anything else.
"I dunno," I shrugged carelessly, and not of my own volition. "Way of the Spider? Sound good? Too much?"
He laughed. "That sounds so goofy, dude."
"He's right, you know," another, feminine voice spoke from my left. "It's not -"
The world fell away.
I gasped awake.
I saw myself - and not from my own eyes - fighting some dark, glitching figure. I seemed to be holding my own pretty well, ducking and weaving blow after blow, completely shrugging off the figure's attempt at an acrobatic Judo throw I'd only ever seen Natasha do, slamming the figure on the ground back-first and then punching him in the liver. It groaned, stiffened, and relaxed, and another punch to the face knocked it out.
I saw myself running towards me after making sure the figure was down. With extra webs.
"Miss Maximoff!"
The world fell away.
...Did my voice really sound that high?
I gasped awake. Falling. No webs. The world was red.
Then I landed with a heavy grunt, dropping my passenger and spilling on the ground. Most of the red faded.
"Come on," I said, in a voice that was definitely not mine. "You gotta get up. You gotta get -"
The passenger flickered, and I realized it was Vision.
So I was Wanda?
Oh, good God! Is this Wanda in Infinity War? So I somehow entered Wanda's body after she had sex with Vision?! What the fuck!?
Wanda reached into her pocket, glancing back sharply and fishing for a pair of glasses in her pocket.
"JOCASTA!" Wanda called when she put them on. A HUD flickered into life. "JOCASTA!"
"Hello, Wanda," JOCASTA greeted, far too calmly for her liking. "How are we tonight?"
"Very bad! Very, very bad! Call Peter -"
The world fell away.
I gasped awake. Numb.
Thanos. Thanos crouched before me, and ran an enormous hand on my head with a gentility I would've mistaken as paternal in nature.
"Today, I have lost more than you will ever know, child," he rumbled, and stood. "But now is no time to mourn."
He closed a gauntleted fist, and green sigils came to life around it.
"Now is no time at all."
The world twisted and glitched.
I gasped awake.
Everything I could see flickered and distorted, as if watching a really bad image on a dying CRT.
A man was looking over me. Black, handsome, burly features, and not one I was entirely certain I'd seen before. He was wearing some sort of high-tech orange and blue suit, and running some numbers on a holographic screen.
He glanced at me, and did a double-take when he realized I was there and looking at him with full self-control and awareness.
"Oh, shit," he cursed, in a voice I thought was familiar. "How did -? No, no, no, no. Too early for our meeting, Suicide Solo. Go back to your girlfriend now. How the hell... was I too hasty?"
He raised his arm, revealing some sort of remote, and pushed a button.
He turned to something else in the room, and yelled, "How'd he get here?! Don't you actually need -?"
The world died into a line and into the black. Byewup! like an only cathode ray switching off.
I gasped awake, stumbling back.
Wanda, who had also stumbled back, glanced around, confused, then looked at me, her confusion deepening with mine.
How long... I touched my helmet, reactivating it.
It was 16:10 when I put it away. The time was 16:12.
Two more minutes before Tony arrived.
"Was that what you saw?" I asked her after a moment.
She shook her head. "I saw much less than now."
"What did you see?"
Her eyes glowed, and the universe brightened, but I didn't feel threatened in the least. "I saw... death. I saw children, a home... I saw chaos. I saw you."
"Okay." I inhaled. "What else?"
"Widow," she said. "Romanoff... she's going to kill Stark. Tomorrow. I came on time."
I stared at her, confused. Romanoff? Natasha? Nat? The Natasha we knew?
"Miss Romanoff? Seriously?"
"I told you, the Avengers are no longer safe. She tortured me, and she's going to kill Steve Rogers. To do that, she's going to kill Stark. I came here to tell Vis to warn him. But he's coming, right? That's fine. I'll just tell him myself."
Seven Days Earlier.
Wanda shuddered in voluptuous agony, volts of unholy, torturous lightning coursing uncaringly through her body, and exhaled when the shocks were finally over.
The shock had been only for five seconds - five seconds was the average time Natasha once advised her to use a stun gun on a human - but it felt like five minutes. She couldn't have known. She couldn't have counted. Even HYDRA had never done anything like this to her.
"Come on," The Traitor whispered. Wanda looked up at her, eyes glimmering with pain and betrayal. "You know there is no point in dragging this out. I would honestly use more refined methods than this, but... well, there's no time for niceties. So, I will repeat to you how this process will go. I ask a question, you answer. You fail to answer, I will show you pain like nothing you have known. Then, you will answer. The more you refuse, the worse the pain will be." She pointed somewhere off her line of sight, compelling Wanda to look. She froze when she saw a simple bucket of water, a clean white cloth hanging over it. "Do you really want to go there?"
Wanda tried to force the bonds, loosen them, somehow - she couldn't use her power due to a dampening anklet based on Stark's, once for calming her in her fitful sleep, when Pietro's death and the consequential snap of their bond gave her nightmares. He'd destroyed them all with her when it was quite clear she could control herself enough in her sleep.
He promised her. He'd even given her the detonator to blow them up herself and showed her how to truly and utterly delete the data of those blueprints, which she had done herself. There were only three anklets. They made sure. Even Ross did not have them; all they could do was shock her when she tried to use her power in the Raft, and she was smart enough for that to only happen once.
How The Traitor had gotten her hands on number four was something only the spy knew. Nothing made sense, nothing but that Wanda Maximoff, least of all the Avengers, had been so completely and utterly betrayed.
"Part three, now," The Traitor said, forcing her attention back to her. "Where? Answer."
"Blyat! Are you kidding me?! I don't know, you traitor!"
"Is this really betrayal?" she wondered, tapping her chin in genuine curiosity. "I was never an Avenger. Neither were you."
Wanda glared at her, and said nothing.
Another sigh. "Alright, back to part one. We dropped you off in Sokovia, and you would keep in contact with him. You made an unbelievably stupid mistake. I warned you, coming here, thinking no one would be prepared for you... I told you it was foolish. I don't even understand why... we let you go. Unfortunately, shit has happened, and here we are. Back to part one, the question."
Wanda grunted as Natasha Romanov grabbed her hair quite painfully, forcing her to look her in her treacherous eye.
"Where," she demanded, "is Steve Rogers?"
Anyway, change of plans, guys. Project Arachas will be updated at any time every other week from here on, because I'll be alternating with Project Ifrit. Check that one out. It's not bad. There's gonna be quite more of a power wank over there than there will be here, for the people that are concerned there isn't enough of a power wank over here.
(Not that there won't be a power wank here. It'll come, but it won't be easy.)
Also! I'm thinking of introducing DeWolff and maybe Watanabe sometime. Let me know what you guys think. I did say there were only two divergences, but I can put in a few more small ones like these. I did cameo Felicia a while back, after all.
Let me know what you think, and I'll see you around.