2 - Vigilantism

Classes dragged on as slowly as ever. English with Miss Stone was a reading followed by a writing prompt. He and Gwen were both among the only four students to finish the work before the end of class, with the rest of the class forced to finish it as homework. Science with Mr McArthur was just as easy, but at least McArthur made it interesting. Nate's favourite teacher allowed him and Gwen to work on more complex science whilst the rest.of the class continued the assigned work once they were done. With the two of them working together, they were always finished before anyone else.

With VIOLET sharing his brain and enhancing his already genius level intellect, the work took even less time, though if anyone other than Gwen noticed, they didn't show it. They finished Mr McArthur's assigned paper on planetary gravity and as he placed their papers on the teacher's desk, Gwen pulled a thick textbook from her bag and placed it on the work table they had been sitting at. McArthur smiled as Nate placed the papers on the desk, and removed his glasses.

"Stay after class a moment please Nate," he began as he began reading over Gwen's paper. "There's something I wish to discuss with you". Nate nodded and made his way back to his seat. He glanced at the front cover of the book on the table between them. It was a biology text of some kind. Gwen smiled.

"My dad got me this for Christmas. Thought you might like to borrow it." He grinned.

"Thanks." He replied. Gwen shrugged as he sat down and the pair started work on their latest experiment. They had been trying for the last three months to add VIOLET to Gwen's mobile phone to improve the device and give her free calls and texts. So far, they had been unable to find a way for the phone to hold the extra computing power and data.

After a further forty minutes of work, the bell rang. McArthur released the class, and the others filed out one at a time. Gwen stood and walked towards the door, stopping near the doorway in the hall outside when she realised he had not followed her out. McArthur glanced in her direction.

"You had better get to homeroom, Miss Stacy. I need to speak with Mr Thomas alone". Nate smiled at his friend, and waved her off.

"I'll catch you up later," he called. She nodded and walked away. McArthur turned around to face him once more, and made his way slowly over to where Nate was sitting. He placed a form on the table. Nate glanced at it, reaching out a hand cautiously. McArthur nodded. Nate picked it up, perusing it quickly. It was a permission slip.

"That's for your mother. I need it back as soon as possible," he began, removing his glasses and placing them in his pocket. Nate nodded. "It's to let you join my advanced biology program at Empire State University. ESU are working with Stark enterprises and Oscorp to find the next generation of Engineers and scientists. You'll be working on weekends and the occasional school night. Most of the others are high school students, but there are two your age."

Nate nodded slowly, glancing at the permission form. He hoped his mother would sign it. He figured she would. As a doctor, Didi Thomas was quick to remind her children of the importance of science and a good education. She would surely allow him to take this opportunity. And the few times she had met Mr McArthur at school functions she had liked him, so that wouldn't be an issue either. But still.

"Sir," he glanced up, meeting his favourite teacher's gaze. "Would I be able to get a second form?" McAarthur laughed.

"Why," the teacher chuckled, "planning on losing this one before you get home?" Nate quickly shook his head, placing the form in his messenger bag.

"No sir. I was hoping to give one to Gwen, so we could do it together." He rubbed the back of his head nervously. The science teacher frowned.

"Sorry Nate. Only allowed to bring one student from Midtown Elementary. And, between us, none of your classmates, Gwen included, are on your level. Besides, I think it would be good for you to branch out a little. As I said, there are other kids your age going to be there. Try to make some friends other than Gwen". The teacher smiled, and Nate nodded, trying to reassure him. McArthur dismissed him, and he stood up and made his way out of the room.

–AoS– Once the bell to signify the start of lunch rung, Nate was the first one out of Mrs Roberts' classroom at the end of homeroom. He made his way through the hallways of the school, hurrying towards the unused classroom Mr McArthur had given him and Gwen both keys for the previous year. Unlocking the door,he stepped into the room. Gwen, who had beat him to their lunchtime haunt, her homeroom closest, was busy moving chairs and desks to either side of the room. She had already placed two desks together for them to sit at and placed her lunch on one of them. He placed his own on the desk next to hers. She was focusing on the task at hand and facing away from him having not heard him enter. He gently tapped his hand against his watch, activating his supersuit.

Rushing around the room he quickly moved all the other desks out of the way. Hearing the commotion and feeling the wind kick up as he ran around the room, Gwen spun around, leaped back with a soft shriek, and would have tripped over a nearby chair had he not rushed to catch her. Gently, he placed a hand against her mouth to keep her from shrieking once more.

"Sorry I scared you," he whispered with a cheeky grin, "it's me. Figured I could surprise you and thought it might be fun". Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, still holding her up.

"Nate?" She whispered, dumbstruck. He nodded and stepped back, helping her get her balance back. She slapped him on the chest, then hissed in pain as she grasped her hand. He gently reached for her hand, and, as she nodded her assent, pushed her dislocated finger back into place. She hisssed once more, but nodded her thanks.

Gwen stepped back slowly, and looked him up and down. "What the hell is going on, Nate? What is this suit supposed to be? Why do you look older than you are? You look like you're in your early twenties. You shouldn't be this strong. Or this fast. None of this is even possible."

Nate laughed and raised a hand to stop her rant. "Sorry. I didn't want to worry you. I also never stopped to think you'd try and hit me. This is what I wanted to tell you about this morning though. During the Christmas break, an alien ship crashed down near the ranch early one morning. There was a dead alien in the ship. She had been wearing this, though it left her body and grafted itself to mine after I opened the ship to get a better look". He gestured to the suit.

"And - and this suit is what lets you run this fast and dislocate my fingers when I hit you?" He nodded.

"And Vi is now sharing my brain." She stared at him incredulously, but he nodded once more. She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"So…how strong are you? How fast? Just what are you capable of?"

"I can lift at least five tons and run up to three hundred miles per hour. I can also jump further and higher than anyone. The first night I cleared the roof of our house with a single standing jump. Also with VIOLET in here I think faster and can process information easier, but I haven't fully calculated how much more intelligent I am now. I can also see, hear, and smell everything on earth. I have to concentrate not to use my enhanced senses during my everyday life".

"So what happens now?"

He blinked. "What do you mean?" She stared at him as though he had asked her to bring him a human head. When he still showed no comprehension of the point she was trying to make, she sighed.

"You find an alien ship, and get an alien super suit that makes you the strongest person on Earth, at least that we know of. What are you going to do with it? What happens now?" He nodded, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

"To tell you the truth, I hadn't actually even thought about that yet. I just wanted to figure out how to get the suit on and off when I first received it. After that I needed to know what it was capable of. I figured if I ever needed it for anything I'd have it with me". She frowned.

"That seems like a waste to me. Maybe whoever sent that ship wanted someone to use the suit for something? Or maybe they want to use it as some sort of social experiment, to see what happens if someone gets it? For all we know, the alien you found may have been dead before the crash." Nate shrugged. Gwen had put a lot more thought into this then he ever had.

"I don't know Gwen. What do you think? I mean, what is there to actually do with it?".

" I suppose you could try and use it to help people. Like a first responder, or like that group of mutants do; the X-men. You could be the modern day Captain America if you wanted to!" Nate shrugged and retracted the suit back into its wristwatch form.

"Maybe". He agreed. Something like that could be fun, at least he thought to himself as he smiled at his friend and sat down to eat his lunch. Gwen turned to gaze silently out the window for several moments before moving over to sit down to eat with him.

–AoS– Nate trudged along the street as he walked towards the hospital. Alexis was going to a friend's house after school, and getting a lift home from their stepfather afterwards. He would be meeting their mother at school and then heading home with her after her shift was finished. Afternoon foot traffic meant it might take him until almost the end of her shift to reach Metro-General, so he at least wouldn't have to wait long at the hospital.

A nearby scream followed by the telltale sound of a gunshot had him stop in place and glancing around as he moved out of the way of the other pedestrians. He considered Gwen's earlier words. Maybe he really should step in to help. After all it wasn't as though anyone would be able to do him much harm. Not as long as he wore the suit. Plus, he thought with a grin as he made up his mind, it could be fun.

Hurrying down a nearby alley, he stepped into the doorway of an abandoned building, and tapped his watch. The suit materialised, covering his body. VIOLET altered his physical form, making him look like a young man in his early twenties. He grinned and ran out of the building and down the alleyway in the direction of the struggle he had overheard.

–AoS–

The van pulled up to the curb, and their driver gestured for the heavyset Siberian in the passenger seat to open the door and gather the weapons. Vladimir gave the order for the men closest to their door to slide it open and the men piled out onto the sidewalk. They were In low income, rundown section of the city, but they had been instructed not to draw attention to themselves. The easiest way to avoid unnecessary hang ups would be to take targets that would not be missed. Drug addicts, minority races, the homeless, kipping out in buildings marked for demolition and down the city's alleyways.

His men spread out without instruction, yet he was unconcerned. They knew what they were here for, and they understood the cost of failure. Their employer had made that painfully clear to Vladimir. He in turn had spelt it out for his underlings. This area was the perfect testing ground for their activities. A low income, nearly abandoned slum, it would take time for the authorities to have their attention turned to events on this block.

He reached into the pocket of his dark green velvet jacket, withdrawing a cream cigar. Popping it into his mouth and lighting it, he took a deep puff and smiled, eyes narrowing as he made his way into the nearest apartment building. The door hung on its hinges, and he gingerly stepped over it, careful not to crinkle his pants. As he stepped slowly further into the

dilapidated building, the only light came from filth-encrusted windows and his cigar. Smoke billowed into the air, and he removed the cigar to cough into his handkerchief as dust from the floor above assaulted his lungs. He glanced up at the sound of creeping footsteps, and withdrew his Glock from his back pocket before taking the staircase.

The sound had come from the second floor. As he stepped off the staircase and onto the main hall, he glanced along both sides at the half dozen apartments, watching for anything that might indicate where the footsteps had gone. There. The second door on the left. Unlike the others, it was newer, better maintained. It was also slightly ajar, as though someone had been too afraid to close the door completely and announce their presence. He removed his shoes and padded across the floor towards the door, gun raised and primed to fire.

He snuffed out his cigar against the awful creamy wallpaper, and paused the door open as quietly as he could. A dozen years as both Moscow city police detective and international burglar had taught him the value of silence, and the need to avoid surprise. Across the room, hanging out an open window was a middle aged woman with filthy auburn hair. The woman was thickset, though also short. She was facing the window, arms extended downwards as she lowered a small child onto the balcony below. He watched in a state of amused fascination, wondering if the stupid cow really thought the brat would escape his men below. True, their employer would not need a child, and had specifically insisted on adult subjects only, but no witness, even a child could be permitted. They were well aware of that.

The child dropped onto the balcony. He heard the thud as its feet hit the tiled floor. The mother pulled her head back through the window, and turned to find his amused grin facing her, his gun pointed towards her neck. The fat woman spun around once more, and screamed down at her brat.

"James," she Hollered, voice high and grating, "run! Get to the nearest help!"

She leaned back from the window once more, and grabbed a knife off the table between them. Vladimir watched her, still amused by her stupid desperation. He felt as though he were a cat; losing interest in the rat once she knew the fight was over. The woman raised the knife, pointing it towards him, though her hand was shaking wildly. He sneered, his veneer of amused boredom gone.

With a flash, the gun fired. The bitch shrieked like the stuck pigs his grandfather once slaughtered on the farm as blood splattered across the wooden walls. The knife - with one of the bitch's fingers - clattered to the floor. She gripped her bleeding hand as he approached her.

"Will you come quietly? If you do, my men will take your boy. If not, I will deal with him myself". Cold blue met wide, pain and horror glazed brown. The woman nodded, and he flicked his gun towards the door of the apartment. His pathetic quarry shuffled slowly towards the exit. Returning his weapon to its holster, and retrieving her fallen knife, he followed silently. He slipped his shoes back on as they made their way downstairs. As they stepped onto the bottom floor once more, he stopped her in her tracks by grabbing her by the shoulder.

Outside, he heard the telltale sounds of conflict. Sporadic sprays of gunfire, and shouting in both Russian and English. Several metallic thuds met his ears as he drew his handgun once more, ordering the woman to lie down where she was. He dropped down low and approached the nearest courtyard facing window.

Of the fifteen men who had accompanied him, six - including the driver - had been rendered unconscious. There was a scream followed by the sound of glass shattering from across the courtyard. Two of his men fell - no, were bodily thrown - from a second storey window. Without needing to approach he instinctively knew they were no longer conscious when they hit the ground with a soft thud.

He stepped back slowly, though not before catching sight of a tall black figure silhouetted in the window. His eyes narrowed. Perhaps it was one of those freaks. A mutant. Yes, he mused, that must be it. It was the only way to explain this man - this thing - decimating his men, all soldiers and trained killers with presumably minimal effort. He nodded to himself. Time to strategically withdraw; better to risk returning empty handed than not return at all.

He bodily forced his hostage to her feet. With his pistol resting against the back of her head, she slowly lumbered out into the daylight. Tears had been running down her fat cheeks when he forced her to her feet, and she was wailing like a wounded beast when they stepped out of the apartment building. He whipped the pistol across the back of her neck. She clearly got the message.

From the building his men had just been bodily ejected from, the woman's whelp screamed for her. She spun around, shouting the brat's name. Vladimir smirked and leveled the gun towards the boy. He fired, ready to watch the kid fall silent and motionless on the filthy floor. Instead, he was met with a stunning sight. His bullet was met by a wall of black.

There, standing across from him, between him and the boy, was a tall figure clad in a black skin tight suit. The blonde figure across the courtyard in his black suit and red cape towered above Ivan's own six foot frame. He must have been either five or six inches taller. The figure's green eyes narrowed at him. On his chest was a black and red S. Ivan sneered. He had six more bullets in the chamber. This fool taking one must have been a fluke. He opened fire, only to watch in a strange mix of wonder and horror as they crumpled ineptly to the ground at the stranger's feet.

The thing stalked towards him slowly, careful not to give him a line of sight to the boy.

"Who are you?" The freak demanded. Ivan smirked and chuckled as the interloper approached. He tightened his grip on the woman, pulling her closer to himself.

"I am a concerned citizen of New York, stranger. My business is the improvement and protection of our citizenry. My name is unimportant. Unless you wish to exchange it for yours?" The stranger shook his head.

Ivan smirked. "I thought not. But tell me this: are you a mutant?" Another head shake.

"Hmm. I wonder" Ivan chuckled. Without warning he shoved the woman forward once the stranger was in range, and fired the final bullet into her neck. The boy shouted as his mother and would-be saviour collapsed in a tangle of limbs. Ivan leaped into the van, turning the key his foolish assailant had left in the ignition upon disabling the driver.

He sped out onto the streets of New York and towards his employer's base of operations.

–AoS– James Moore ran forward as his mother fell on top of the strange hero who had come to their aid. He had barely reached them when the stranger carefully and gently lifted his mother off of himself, laying her on the ground. The hero placed his fingers on his mother's pulse point, and nodded to himself. The tall man turned to James.

"I need to get your mother to Metro-General, else she won't make it. As it is, she may never walk again." James whimpered, and the man winced before awkwardly tossling James' hair. The man lifted mother into his arms and ran in the direction of the hospital.

A few moments later, he returned, smile on his face.

"The doctor says she should be fine. I'll take you to see your mother now." James nodded, rubbing the tears off his face.

–AoS–

Doctor Didi Abrahams-Thomas was making her way towards the entrance of Metro-General hospital, untying her shoulder length black hair as she walked when she was met by a sight she never thought possible. After a long night and day of work, she had been excited to see her son. It was rare lately she had proper quality time with Nate, even more so than the rest of her family. She was working more and more lately, and often when she wasn't her oldest was buried in some experiment or other. It was as she was making up her mind to offer to take him to dinner it happened. a tall figure dressed in a strange black costume ran into the hospital. The blonde man was carrying a middle aged woman in his arms, who appeared to be unconscious. He saw her approaching and ran towards her, kicking up winds which blew her hair about and sent several pieces of paperwork at the nearby nurses station flying.

"This woman's been shot. She needs medical attention. Didi nodded, paging for a bed and the nearest available doctor. Both arrived within moments. Once the stranger placed the patient on the bed and secured the assurances of doctor Palmer she would be fine, he turned and once more ran from the hospital. Didi shook her head as she waved to Christine as the other doctor ran off with her newest patient and the nurses who had secured the bed.

She stepped out into the afternoon air and frowned. Nate hadn't arrived yet, it seemed. With a shrug she sat on a nearby stone bench to wait for him. Less than a minute later, the black-clad man returned carrying a child about Nate's age into the hospital and to the nurse's station. A few moments later he ran out alone and down the street away from the hospital. A few minutes later, she spotted her son walking towards her through the hospital car park, waving as he saw her. She grinned and waved back as she stood and began walking to greet her boy.

–AoS– Vladimir found himself standing in a familiar dimly lit room. Sat on a high-backed black chair in front of him was his latest employer. The man was not happy.

Bald except for a snow white beard, wearing a thick red jacket, and with his hands crossed in his lap the old man did not look like much of a threat. That was the mistake of many. Almost always their last. Ivan Kragoff was an intelligent and vindictive man. A figure of nightmare. Vladimir did his best to hold his ground.

The red ghost stared at him. "You have failed me, Vladimir. I wonder; why is this?" His voice was low, almost inviting, though for Vladimir, a man who had worked with him for years, the underlying threat was clear. The accompanying growls from the darkened corners of the room helped. It took all he had not to show his fear.

"We were ambushed, sir. Attacked without warning or mercy." Ivan nodded, frowning even as he did so. The old man peered at him, eyes piercing.

"And you could not handle a few police?"

Vladimir shook his head. "It wasn't the police". Ivan nodded.

"Oh? Then who was it? Richards and his circus freaks? Or the mutants?" He shook his head.

"No sir. I'm not sure who the man wa-"

"Man? You mean to say sixteen well armed killers were laywaid by a single man? Alone?" Ivan snarled, leaning forward. Vladimir bristled, though he refused to lose his cool.

"He was the strongest man I've ever seen. I put six bullets in his chest. They each bounced off". Ivan grinned nastily.

"I see. You are not at fault. Clearly." Vladimir lowered his head slightly, letting out a silent sigh of relief. Ivan snapped his fingers. A blood-curdling roar sounded behind him, and he was barrelled off his feet. Vladimir screamed as he was lifted into the air by a huge silverback, which bared its fangs in a twisted smile as it slammed him against the wall. Ivan nodded as he stood.

"You cannot be blamed. Yet you cannot be rewarded for failing to bring me even a single subject either. Claudius, please give our friend his payment, would you?"

Vladimir could not keep from screaming as the beast holding him tore off his left arm at the elbow. Blood poured from his wound as he screamed. The last thing he knew as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness was the smiling face of Ivan Kragoff. The Red Ghost laughed.

A/N: Originally, I intended for Claudius to kill Vladimir in the final scene, but midway through his first scene, I decided I liked the character too much to get rid of. So now Vlad will hang around as a recurring villain.

Any observant Marvel Comics fans may be able to guess the identity of Mr McArthur. (PM me if you do; try not to cheat by using the net.)

Also, I'm placing a poll to see how people feel about making Wanda and Pietro closer to the age of Nate and Gwen. PM me to let me know what you'd prefer, as I can't create polls the normal way. Unsure why.

Norman McArthur - Rami Malek

Vladimir Petrov - Danila koslovsky

Ivan Kragoff - Len Doncheff