coveted magics, 14
The wall was bland and empty. Somehow, that made it easier. It was easier for Tommy to stare at an empty, bland wall, because there was nothing on it for him to miss. No family photos lining the entry hall, no sports medals and trophies up on the cabinet beside the TV, no stray clutter that his parents would always bicker about - arguing back and forth about whose mess it was and who should clean it up, which usually ended in Tommy cleaning it himself so they’d stop fighting. No parents, no lifeless, soulless corpses to stare at. Nothing to miss. He didn’t even have to think.
But think, he did. Because there was no escaping what had happened. His parents were dead. Murdered, by a witch whose name Tommy hadn’t even been able to listen to enough to remember. All because the witch was hunting him, and something to do with the powers he’d developed in November last year. This incredible speed; Tommy could run faster than even the best racecar in existence. For all that time, he’d had the simple battle in his mind of whether or not it was still okay for him to be on his school’s baseball team, or if maybe he could sneak in a tiny bit of his powers to play just a little bit better.
That all seemed pointless, now. Because his parents were dead, and he wasn’t safe back home in Minnesota anymore. He had to live here in Boston, now. With the Scarlet Witch, who was apparently his mother from a previous life - it sounded absurd, and yet Tommy somehow just knew it was true all the same - and all of these superheroes. And another boy who was supposedly his twin brother. He seemed weird. Tommy remembered him hovering silently at the edge of the room, not doing much else.
In the back of his mind, Tommy knew that he would survive this, and he knew what his parents would want him to do know - they’d want him to live his life to the fullest for them - but he wasn’t ready to really think about that. For now, he was just going to stare at the blank wall in the plain room and cry.
Bobbi had almost lost count of how long she’d been overstaying her welcome in and around various Eastern European countries after her protection detail job had been well and truly finished. The simple fact was, she had uncovered something that she couldn’t just walk away from. A sliver of evidence buried in the ruins of a rarely spoken about Nazi office about two miles north of Mauthausen, in northern Austria.
As far as she could determine, it was an office run by the Sicherheitsdienst, the Nazi Party’s intelligence division. Files had been gathered in metal bins and torched, in what looked like an effort to hide evidence of their operations towards the end of the war. It was a combination of gut instincts and sheer chance that Bobbi had found what she did there, and it had forced her to re-evaluate everything she’d known about the founding of SHIELD. Given how much work and sacrifice Bobbi had put into SHIELD, she just couldn’t walk away.
So she had continued to investigate for almost three months, following a trail of information that had led her all across Europe and then to the island city-state of Madripoor. Bobbi had been in Madripoor for almost two weeks now, doing her damn best to keep a low profile so that nobody knew that the Mockingbird was there. She’d earned enough of a reputation as a mercenary by now that if even a single word of her presence spilled, her target would vanish.
There was no way Bobbi could let that happen. Her grandparents had been murdered in the Mauthausen concentration camp during the Holocaust, which added a deeply powerful layer to just how personal this was. Bobbi knew that taking down her target was going to create a massive power vacuum and make waves in the criminal underground. Hell, she might spend the rest of her life on the run for this, but… no, she just couldn’t turn away.
Hunter had tried all of one time to deter her, and then promptly realised just how much she cared about this and offered to come with. And… Bobbi loved Hunter, but there was no way she was bringing him in on this. He just wasn’t nearly subtle enough to not get caught. He also didn’t understand. It was one of the factors that had contributed to their numerous breakups. Hunter didn’t get the whole Judaism thing on anything deeper than a surface level. He didn’t understand how her very soul called for her to stamp out this damn fucking Nazi.
Her weeks in Madripoor had turned up just about everything that Bobbi needed, and now it was time to take action. The Power Broker had gone and switched up all of her locations and operations since the Falcon and the Winter Soldier had come in and messed things around, but Bobbi was more than good enough to follow leads and figure out her new base of operations, in the basement of a pristine-looking cafe two blocks east of the US Embassy. She moved about frequently, but Bobbi was 100% certain that tonight, she’d be here. And tonight, she was going to die.
Bobbi had killed plenty, and would continue to kill again as needed even if she usually tried to avoid going that far. But for this piece of garbage? There was no other option. This was personal, this was vengeance for the most brutal systematic genocide in modern history. This was the penance deserving of a bastard who had every opportunity to avoid association with the crimes of her ancestors, but leaned into it all regardless.
Getting into the basement was easy enough. Bobbi had gotten her hands on one of the few remaining Widow’s Veils in existence, identified a buyer who had become close enough to the Power Broker to receive an invitation to this very basement, and removed them from the equation just under half an hour ago. Now wearing the face of a wealthy, put together ex-Sokovian aristocrat, Bobbi had a free pass to order a very particular drink and be led straight down into the basement without raising any suspicion whatsoever.
And there she was. Sharon Carter, the Power Broker, clacking away at the keyboard of a rather compact laptop on a lavish-looking desk. It would be easy enough for Bobbi to draw the tiny concealed handgun in the base of her boot and end this now, but no. Bobbi needed to talk to Carter first.
“I’m banking on this tech working, Fitz,” Bobbi whispered to herself, and then clicked a button on a remote pocketed on the inside of her jacket. Three electromagnetic pulse generators spread around the basement activated at once, erecting force-fields that should keep Carter trapped in here with Bobbi. It had taken the whole first week for Bobbi to get this location and plant the miniature devices close enough that they could get in position, and that was essential for taking down a target as slippery as the woman who was now rising from her desk with a pistol in hand.
“Of all the people who might come for me, I should have expected it’d be you, Morse,” Carter said calmly. Bobbi refused to be deterred by her target’s lack of fear. “The prodigal Mockingbird. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
Bobbi smirked, and began taking small steps down the stairs, closer to this Nazi piece of shit. “You can thank the carelessness of some Sicherheitsdienst officer positioned in Northern Austria, if you’d like.”
Carter shot her an amused, quizzical look. “I can’t say I see the connection between myself and the Nazis. What, do you think I’m HYDRA? HYDRA are gone, thanks to impressive efforts by your old team.”
“Oh please,” Bobbi scoffed, taking yet another step with her batons now in hand. “Do I really need to give you a lesson on your own family history?”
There was a moment, a singular moment where Carter’s composure broke, before she reclaimed her unperturbed look. “I think just about everybody knows my family history.”
“Do they, now?” Bobbi challenged. “Well, I wonder if the name Cynthia Glass means anything to you?”
This time, the break in composure took her longer to recover from. Clearly, Carter knew this bit of her family’s history, and never expected anyone else in the world to find out. “I can’t say it rings any bells, no. Care to enlighten me?”
“What, while your silent alarm goes off and your team of guards find a way past those barriers? Sure, I wish them the very best of luck getting past that,” Bobbi laughed. She had enough trust in Fitz’s work that she could take her time. “Everybody knows and celebrates the work of your great aunt Peggy, in her work in the SSR and founding SHIELD. And I have to admit, I can’t fault her much. Even if she was supposed to be a Nazi sleeper agent who was wooed enough by Steve Rogers to switch sides, her loyalty stayed opposed to the Nazis. Shame it happened after Peggy gave away the location of the experiment that turned Steve Rogers into Captain America, though. Peggy Carter, born Cynthia Glass, was the child of German spies in England who took their loyalty to Hitler. She made good and redeemed herself. But you? Looks like you’ve gone straight back to your family’s roots.”
“Wow,” said Carter, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’ve done your research. Still no idea why you think I’m a Nazi.”
“Oh please, it’s not a very well kept secret that the Power Broker and her newest protege have been organising hits on significant Jewish figures and their allies. I mean, you guys hired Bullseye to take down Steven Plozier not all that long ago. Plozier’s good at what he does, and doesn’t make enemies easily,” Bobbi taunted her with the simple fact that she knew. “The entire Nazi ideology was built around Judenhass, and based on your work, I’d say the Judenhass is a pretty core principle of yours. I would almost believe that it was all attributed to your little student Karli, if not for the fact that the pattern of antisemitic hate-crimes goes all the way back to your time in SHIELD. Yes, I know about your write-ups.”
Carter sighed, and hit a few keys on her laptop. Her eyes widened when absolutely nothing happened. “What?”
“Oh, that little security system of yours?” Bobbi chuckled, and silently thanked Fitz again and again for saving her life. If his tech hadn’t been able to disable the various EMP-resistant turrets and explosives Carter had set up in this place, all of her confidence would have been nothing more than bravado, and she’d already be dead. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be helping you. Hey, what do you think Morgenthau’s gonna do when she finds out you’re dead? You went to all that effort to fake her death and teach her, but it doesn’t seem like she’s ready to be the next Power Broker any time soon. My bet? She’ll head over to the United States and join some college encampment, and make the anti-zionist movement her next big project.”
Silence. Carter didn’t have anything more to say. She just hissed, pointed her gun at Bobbi, and fired. Bobbi had spent enough time studying Carter’s personality and combat patterns to predict everything about how she was going to play this fight, and swung her baton precisely enough to bat the bullet away. Still, she didn’t want to let this go on at a distance, so she hurled one of her batons at Carter’s hand and knocked the gun away.
“So, ready to die?” Bobbi asked with all the venom she was ever capable of.
“We’ll see, Mockingbird,” Carter spat back, and charged at her.
It took about five minutes, and then Bobbi walked right out of that cafe with blood dripping from her batons, and her escape plan ready and waiting. The job was done.
The first thing Peter saw when he woke up the morning after the attack was Harley’s peaceful, sleeping face beside him. He was just so damn pretty that Peter had the urge to kiss him – and he did. A small peck on the lips, light enough that it didn’t wake Harley from his rest. The action strengthened Peter for what he knew was going to be a difficult day, with far too much going on.
Tommy had taken most of the night to calm down, and was now staying in the one spare bedroom in Daisy and Wanda’s apartment. Billy, who knew on a surface level that Tommy was his reincarnated twin brother, had been restless last night and would no doubt have questions and anxieties and a whole lot of feelings to work through. And then there was the matter of the Shepherds. Harry had said he would take care of it – make sure that they were taken care of and set up for a funeral according to Jewish rites, since the Shepherds were Jewish too.
One of the things that had kept Peter sane last night was texting Jess about everything that had happened. He was originally hoping to get Jess over here to stay and hang out for a little while, but now that all of this was happening, he figured that visit would have to be postponed. It didn’t seem fair to drag Jess into all of this, and they hadn’t actually seen each other face to face since Peter’s panic-induced impromptu visit to New York.
With a carefully quietened yawn, Peter stretched and rolled to the edge of the bed before getting up and throwing on a t-shirt. He didn’t bother with pants because it just felt like too much work, and underwear was considered a sufficiently modest minimum attire in his home. Light on his feet, Peter walked down to the kitchen and started brewing a cup of coffee to help wake up. With his metabolism it wouldn’t last long, but it’d give him enough of a boost to get the rest of the way there himself.
About half-way through brewing the pot, Peter heard a knock at the door. It was barely even seven in the morning, and he couldn’t say he was expecting anyone. Hesitant, Peter walked over and looked through the peephole to see none other than his sister, Jess. More than a little bit confused, he opened the door.
“Good morning!” Jess said with a familiar sort of fake pep. “Are you gonna invite me in?”
Peter yawned. “Oh, yeah! Come on in. And… not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”
Jess walked briskly past him, her nose obviously following the scent of coffee. “Some bitch fucked with my extended family, so naturally I’m here to help you hunt her down. Mind if I steal some of this?”
“Sure, go for it,” Peter conceded easily. He knew exactly what Jess’s relationship with coffee was, and fully supported her replacement vice of choice. “You know you didn’t have to come, right?”
Jess turned, and glared at him. “Pete, we both agreed that we were gonna give this whole being family thing a shot. From what I understand, this Tommy kid is a part of your family, especially if he’s your new kid brother’s twin. And when someone comes for my family? I step in. Plus, if the Scarlet Witch is going to – justifiably – go ballistic, I figured it can’t hurt to make sure she’s pointed in the right direction.”
Peter let out a sigh. “I think once you get to know Wanda, you’ll realise she’s not going to go ‘ballistic’. But yeah, I don’t think any of us will want to turn down the help. From what we all managed to get out of Tommy last night, his parents were good people.” He then paused, and squinted thoughtfully as Jess poured two mugs of coffee from the pot. “Did I get around to mentioning that the killer, Agatha, is technically Harry’s mom?”
Jess snorted. “No, you did not. But family drama is the name of the game for people like us, so I can’t exactly say I’m surprised. That will be a helpful lead, but I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that Harry will be in no shape to answer my questions for a little while.”
Peter sat himself down on one of the stools beside the kitchen island, and appreciatively accepted one of the mugs from Jess. “Yeah, no. Abusive absentee mother, lots of bad blood there. Once I know everything is under control here, I do want to spend some time today over at his place making sure that he’s on track to being okay. Normally Gwen would be the first to take that on, but I think they have their hands full with Tommy for the moment.”
“Got it,” Jess nodded, taking in the information. “So aside from the obvious bullshit, how have you been?”
“Honestly not too bad,” Peter chuckled. A part of him appreciated the distraction, and part of him felt a little guilty for focusing on recent joys instead of the current disaster. “Harls and I are going strong and Billy is settling in pretty great. I’m managing to keep up with my coursework between all of this, so that’s a definite plus too.”
“Look at you,” Jess said with a fondness that Peter knew did not come out very often. “Off at college, healing and making the best of things. Like I said, you’re not cursed.”
“So it seems,” Peter smiled. He’d come a long way since their rooftop conversation a couple months back. “What about you? Everything still holding together okay?”
“Aside from getting a red-eye bus here? Yeah. I’d love to say I’m worried Malcolm will burn my whole business down while I’m gone, but I know he’ll do just fine with the current case load.” Jess rolled her eyes at the admission that she couldn’t take the piss out of her coworker. “Things have been surprisingly quiet in New York, with superpowered assholes showing up to torch shit. That said, I did some looking around on the net on my way here, and it seems like this Agatha person is causing a bit of a ruckus across the country. Anyway, we can talk about that later.”
“Sure,” Peter agreed, and took a hefty swig of coffee. He then got up, walked around the kitchen island and pulled Jess into a hug. “It’s really good to see you.”
Jess wrapper her arms around him and squeezed, knowing that Peter could take it. The sensation was nice, and something that not many people had the physical strength to pull off. “You too, kid. And I have to say, it’s nice not having to tag-team to keep you alive anymore. Claire wanted me to let you know that she is getting way better sleep now.”
“Ha, ha,” Peter laughed dryly, and pulled away. He swung back around the table, and picked up his coffee to drink some more. “Oh yeah, how’s Vido doing?”
Jess smirked. “That brat scored himself a girlfriend and a boyfriend about a week ago, and the three of them have been going on dates every spare moment. He will not shut up about it, but I tolerate it because he’s a good kid.”
“Aw,” Peter cooed. “Admit it, you love to see him happy like that.”
“Sure, fine,” Jess rolled her eyes.
To the left, Peter heard the sound of Billy’s door clicking open, and the quiet padding of his feet as he walked out into the shared space. In the back of his mind, Peter hoped that Billy was wearing a shirt sheerly because he knew his brother would get embarrassed being topless around a new person. Fortunately, he was. Even so, he looked more than a little surprised. “Uh… hi?”
“Morning Billy,” Peter said, and gestured for him to come take the seat beside him. “Remember I told you about my big sister Jess? This is her. Jess, this is Billy.”
Jess raised her mug towards Billy in a greeting gesture. “Nice to meet you, kid. Peter’s told me good things about you – but then again, I don’t think he’d be capable of talking shit about you if he was held at gunpoint.”
Billy chuckled a little nervously. “Hi, yeah, that’s me. Nice to, uh, meet you. Sorry, I just didn’t know we were having guests.”
“Neither did I,” Peter informed him, and pulled him into a brief side-hug once Billy was sitting down next to him. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” Billy answered, and then paused. “Um. Do you know if Tommy is okay?”
Peter shrugged. “Probably not, but we’re all gonna do our best to help him. How are you handling everything from last night?”
Billy shrugged, and got up to go pour himself some soy milk for his coffee. “Dunno. I mean, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I know Tommy is my brother, I can feel it. But I don’t actually know him, and here he is with this horrible thing having happened. I’m… well, what if I ask Wanda for those memories?”
Peter paused, considering what Billy had just said. Not long ago, he was reluctant to accept Wanda’s offer – even if it was clear that eventually he was planning to take her up on it. The fact that he was feeling driven to do so now was… well, it was messy. But if it was what Billy wanted to do, Peter would be there to support him every step along the way. “I’d say go for it, if that’s what you really want to do.”
“Just don’t use my trick for dealing with heavy shit,” Jess offered, and Peter let out a sigh.
“Um, what’s your trick?” Billy asked, sounding uncertain and almost spilling some coffee onto the countertop from the pot.
“Drinking,” Jess answered plainly.
“Oh,” Billy said. “No thanks. So, um, Peter’s told me a little about you. You’re a Private Investigator, right?”
Jess nodded, and after draining her mug of coffee she leaned over and rested her elbows on the countertop. “Sure am. And I’m here to track down Agatha Harkness for you guys. I even considered dragging that fancy wizard guy here to help out, but I figured you guys’d be able to handle the fighting yourselves. So, what do you do for fun?”
Billy shrugged. “I guess I read comics and manga a bunch, and sometimes I practice my magic a bit. Um… what about you?”
Jess glanced briefly at Peter. Peter, knowing exactly what Jess got up to for fun, snorted. Jess looked back at Billy, and smiled. “I tend to hang out with friends a lot, and I’ve been getting into reading lately. Say, Peter, why don’t I go with Billy and Harley to your training place and give them a bit of a break from everything while you go check on your witchy friend?”
“Billy, are you cool with that?” Peter asked, wanting to make sure Billy wasn’t left without support to cope with everything that just happened.
Billy nodded. “Sure! Is Harry okay?”
“Definitely not,” Peter shook his head. “So I want to go check on him and help him sort through his feelings. I’ll go wake up Harley, and then head off. I don’t want to leave Harry on his own for too long.”
After being let in and given another cup of coffee by Greenie, who Peter had been re-getting to know over the last couple months, Peter made his way up to the upper floor of the Osborn mansion and rapped his knuckles on Harry’s bedroom door. It was still pretty early in the morning, but he knew Harry well enough to know that he probably hadn’t gotten a single moment of sleep.
He could hear Harry trudge tiredly to the door before it swung open, and saw the look of surprise on Harry’s face to see him here so early. “Peter?”
“Hey, Har,” Peter said. “Can I come in?”
Harry nodded, so Peter went to sit down at the edge of Harry’s bed. His friend’s room was a swirling mess of books and scrolls. Peter knew that Harry usually kept his collection in his private library, so the fact that he’d brought things here meant this was really, really bad.
“Lay it on me, Har, you’ve clearly been up all night stressing about all of this,” Peter suggested, not wanting to push Harry to rest when that would only earn resistance.
Harry shook a little, and slid down the wall next to the door until he was sitting almost in a foetal position on the floor. “I- Peter, it was her. There’s no way I can beat her as I am now. Maybe Wanda could, but… it’s too risky. Mo- Agatha can steal the magical power of other witches, and I’m pretty sure it extends to any kind of Chthonic energy, which was probably why she attacked Tommy’s family. It’s no coincidence that the twins developed their powers right after Wundagore was destroyed.”
“I’m guessing it’s not as simple as letting those of us without any magic deal with her?” Peter said after a brief pause, because even if Harry sometimes stubbornly stuck to a train of thought that might not make complete sense if he resonated with it enough, he wouldn’t miss something as simple as that.
“Nope,” Harry popped. “She’s not gonna be careless enough to put herself in that position. If Wanda isn’t enough to beat her, it has to be me. She can’t steal my power because I… I did something, something that protects me and only me from that, and I can’t share it around. But there’s no way I can beat her as I am now, Pete. So… I’ve been pouring over texts for hours now, and there’s one way I could make this work, and keep us all safe. But it’s stupidly dangerous. I have to travel the Witches’ Road.”