I think I'm on an inspired roll here. I basically dumped most of my other ongoing projects to pursue this one 'cause I'm so terrified of losing streak. Sorry, fans of the other stories! D:

Yeah , but how's this one going? I'm not yet a shame to the world of fanfiction writers?

3: Spy the Soldier

Big man, in a suit of armor…take that away, what are you?

Hayden wasn't a very big fan of sleeping in, especially since he had a reputation to maintain as a Harvard alumnus and as a typical "boy scout", as most of his neighbors had described him. Other than that, he always had recurring nightmares about war, the Nazis, costumed people, a very specific plane crash and literal cold feet.

He often woke up confused and with a headache curable enough with home-brewed coffee.

"Morning, Hayden!" Smiled the bellboy as the elevator dinged open for the now refreshed graduate. The blonde grinned back at him with his coat tucked smartly on the crook of his left arm as he pressed on the button of his destined floor. "What brings you up here, Manuel?"

"Oh, I bet you didn't hear: The X's fired their nanny again," The older man, for his age, had the knowledge of all the residents living on that certain building of the Upper East Side, seeing as he was the most approachable employee there was. It was a great way to pass the time and earn tips.

"I really don't think you should be gossiping on other people, Manuel; it's not necessarily part of the job," The blonde gave a chirpy smile to him as they both waited for the box to make a stop. The addressee replied to him with a knowing chuckle. "I'm not sure if it were the nine nannies you had growing up or the Harvard bosses that make you so Mr. Nice Guy, kid."

Hayden Groser's baby blue eyes crinkled at the remark. "For as long as I can remember, I just wanted to do what was right."

In that instant, his head buzzed at something. He almost lost his footing, but thankfully recovered when his free hand clutched for the handrail in the elevator. Manuel, fully aware that this was the first time something had made the buff Ken doll stagger, quickly rushed to his aid. "Hay—"

"N-No, I'm fine; this happens sometimes…" The more alarmed look that Manuel had sported made Hayden want to slap himself in the face if it weren't for his migraine.

"You were always so dramatic," She laughed.

Immediately the buzzing in his head worsened, flashes of a bedridden woman with gray hair and an English accent came and went, and there were more scenes of seeing a man in black getting shot in an apartment, about how there were ears everywhere, and—

"Hayden? Hayden, you up, kid?"

The boy in question clenched his eyes closed, tighter than they already had been, assessed the condition of his body, and tried to remember basic information about his self.

His name was Hayden Groser, he was twenty-five, and fresh out of Harvard.

He had blue eyes and yellow hair. He was six foot two, and weighed somewhere around two hundred pounds – but he'd lost some ever since the nightmares, so he couldn't be too sure.

Other than that, he felt fine. He was okay. He was in the Upper East Side, riding an elevator on his way to work back at the University. Hayden felt the quick thumping of his heart gradually come to a more regular speed and he opened his eyes once more.

Manuel stooped over him, eyebrows compressed together in the center as a sign of the old man's growing agitation. "How long was I out?"

"'Round five, maybe eight minutes,"

Hayden stood up and checked if his coat was in the same crisp condition as it had been and was relieved to see that it was. When he looked back to check in with his companion, Manuel had a mildly amused look on his face. "You care more about the coat than yourself?"

The blonde could only offer a sheepish grin.

When the elevator finally dinged to let the two of them out, Manuel had stopped the kid from leaving until they both had a good assessment of him, and that if anything ever happened, he should call Manuel, and more assurances were uttered along the way. Hayden hadn't much memory of his parents, since his dad was out traveling constantly, and his mother had died of tuberculosis when he was younger. Manuel and the entirety of the apartment staff compensated for it.

Not to mention the nine nannies he had had when he was younger.

As the bellboy headed to pick up Mrs. X's new set of shopping bags, he made a short detour to the concierge, ready to openly flirt with one of the attendants present. The one named Maria.

"Hayden's so pure, but I worry about that kid. Said he sometimes blacks out,"

The dark-haired woman jumped up in unfiltered yet unnecessary excitement, her bangs copying the action. "Was I right about the Greek dragons?"

"Maybe," Manuel smirked, but the woman across him was not fazed. "Did you hear about the X's? They fired their nanny for apparently throwing away Grayer's pet. Kid wants a black widow."

"Bit dangerous for someone his age, don't you think?" Maria readjusted herself on her stool. Because being a concierge was a temporary job, she didn't really mind sucking at it. She preferred her place in upstate New York where she was more permitted to run about.

Manuel snorted in response. "In the Upper East Side, sweetheart, you give the brat what he wants."

Maria's eyes trailed after the bellboy's retreating figure as he greeted the newly arrived Mrs. X and took multiple shopping bags into his meaty hands. As the two exchanged glances one more time, she decided it was about time she shared the news.

It had been a while since they'd put Black Widow on the field.

"Potty break," Maria chirped to her seatmate as she hopped off her seat and skittered in whatever speed her work heels permitted her to rush to the back, to the employees' lounge.

The addressee picked up on the fourth ring. "Hey, it's Maria, how are the kids?"

"A working mess. How are the Fourth of July plans?"

"Still a working progress, but on the other hand," Maria Hill propped a free hand on her hip. "I think I found you a cute guy up here in the Upper East Side. Think you can come over for a while?"

"You know I'm already in."

Okay, well I'm sure you guys are smart so for people like me who are pretty slow in the espionage department (like hell I had to keep revising the dialogue to try to make it clear but subtle, yeah, sure, see how that worked out), since the exchange between Manuel and Maria Hill has been like a code. I guess it's not that hard to decipher, I mean spiders and patriotism and all.

I hope.

Please leave a comment, let me know how much of a failure this already became…

(Kinda listened to Pierce the Veil as I worked)

-Strawbeariiis