mechanized vengeance, 1
Agatha was gone for good, and all of the portals to Mephisto’s realm closed. With the threat gone, there was only one thing left on Peter’s list of priorities before he could get to the matter he desperately wanted to address - that someone who looked like Nat and remembered Peter was here. Before that, though, Peter needed to check in on his little brother. Billy was only a few metres away. He stood bent over, panting, with his hands on his knees. It was hardly surprising to Peter; Billy didn’t have stamina training of any kind, and this was a fight that had been drawn out.
“You okay?” Peter asked as he jogged over to Billy’s side.
Billy responded first by letting his head fall into Peter’s chest. “Is being a superhero always… like this?”
“Kind of, yeah,” Peter chuckled, and wrapped his arms around Billy. “Some of it gets easier with practice, though.”
“But not all of it,” said the woman who looked like Nat, as she walked over to the two of them, sheathing some very sci-fi looking daggers onto her waist. “I see you’ve moved on from looking out for the little guy in Queens, huh?”
Still holding Billy for as long as the boy wanted to be held, Peter turned to look at Nat. Part of him wanted to believe that it was really her, but part of him knew that Bruce had tried to bring her back when he used the infinity stones, and was certain that he had failed. In the end, all Peter could do was stare. She looked almost the same as he remembered her - albeit her hair was shorter than usual, with some black streaks right at the ends of her hair. Oh, and her clothing was definitely alien, judging by the glowing blue stripes that did not appear to be in any way powered by standard electricity or other known earth-based energy sources. And then there was the spaceship, which was still hovering up in the sky.
Briefly, his mind flitted to Yat-Sen, the now-deceased Manufacturer of corrupted terrigen crystals that were lethal to non-Inhumans. Daisy and Gwen had both mentioned how he had taken the form of Nat and gained her combat abilities. This couldn’t be him - not only because he was definitely dead, but also because he would never show up to help save a city like Nat had. And… now of all times, Jess’s words from that day on the rooftop in New York rang through his mind. He wasn’t cursed, and he was allowed to have good things. Maybe this really was Nat.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Nat exclaimed teasingly, the expression on her face making evident that she was well aware of the irony of her statement.
“You… you’re supposed to be dead,” Peter blurted out. “Bruce tried to bring you back, and he said it failed. You didn’t show up for the battle, even Doctor Strange said that he couldn’t locate you anywhere.”
Nat nodded more seriously, as if to say that she knew. She knew that nobody could tell that she was alive, and she was aware of what that meant. “It took me until a little over half a year ago just to get off Vormir. I spent some time with the locals half-way across the planet, and once I was finally able to learn enough of their language, they explained that there’s a barrier against magic around the whole planet.”
Peter let his head fall a little, his chin coming to rest atop Billy’s head. The explanation was… well, it was good enough. He remembered some of the stories about the ‘Time Heist’ from Mr. Stark’s funeral, as well as the various accounts and retellings that were made publicly accessible later. Supposedly, the Soul Stone had been locked away on a distant planet in such a manner that only the completion of a specific ritual could unlock access to the stone. It wasn’t a stretch to think that the planet was somehow warded against magical interference, even if magic wasn’t exactly Peter’s forte.
“So… what have you been doing since then?” Peter asked, in part because he looked up to Nat so much and wanted to hear her stories, but also in part because he was desperate to know why she hadn’t returned sooner.
“Well, why don’t we talk about that later? We’re about to have company,” Nat responded, nodding to Peter’s right. Even as she spoke, she was putting her helmet back on.
Peter looked, and saw that a swarm of reporters were tentatively approaching him in the park. With a groan, Peter turned to speak to Billy, and then Nat, in turn. “Billy, can you use some of your magic to hide your face? And Nat, don’t think you’re getting out of this. Hang around and come back to my apartment, or I swear I’ll find you and drag you there.”
“And I believe that you could,” said Nat, temporarily breaking all of the composure Peter had just started working to build up. That kind of praise, coming from Nat of all people? It meant the world to him. But right now, he needed to focus on making sure the story about what had happened today was right.
Once Billy had a magical shroud covering his face, Peter waved to the reporters and stepped over to intercept their approach. “Hi guys, is everyone okay? Nobody got hurt?”
“Spider-Man!” One of the reporters called out. “Can you shed some light on what happened here today? The city was getting overrun!”
Peter sighed, knowing he kind of had to let himself be held back by these reporters for a little while, if only to avoid any further city-wide panic. He also had to pick his words very carefully, lest he feed into prejudice about witches. “A dangerous magic user named Agatha Harkness came here to feed on the power of some other magic users in this city. She managed to open a series of portals to another dimension, which I believe - and hope - have all been closed. Harkness has been dealt with too.”
The reporters all clamoured forward, vying for an opportunity to get Peter’s attention next. Hoping that it wold pacify them a little, Peter pointed at another reporter and asked for their question. “Who are you guys? I mean, we all know that most of you who helped save us tonight have been working together to keep our city safe for a few months now, but this is the first chance any reporters have had to speak with you directly. Do you have a name? Are you an official team?”
Peter considered the question. This reporter felt… different to the forceful, pushy type he’d dealt with in the past. The questions seemed genuine. And… if he didn’t answer now - even if he tried to say that him and his friends needed to workshop it - the media would decide on a team name anyway for ease of reporting. The name ‘Young Avengers’ was really Kamala’s to roll out - even if they’d all technically agreed to be a part of her team, Peter understood as well that it was more nationwide anyway. So, the responsibility fell to him.
And he wasn’t feeling particularly creative right now, especially since he just wanted to get back to talking to Nat, and finding out what the hell had happened to her. “Uh… well, we’re really just here to protect Boston and lend a hand to those in need. So I guess you could just call us that? The Boston Protectors, or something like that?”
“Who is that kid with the magic powers?” One of the reporters called out next. She sounded especially demanding. Peter didn’t like that.
“That kid is someone who Harkness was trying to hurt. Now that the threat is over, he will be wanting to go back to his ordinary life, so I’d thank you all to leave him alone and respect his privacy. That’ll be all for now, I need to get going.”
“Holy shit,” that new woman, Darcy Lewis, exclaimed again, staring wild-eyed at Tommy.
Harley had gotten to know her a little over the past half hour, while he had escorted her half of the city to close portal after portal. She hadn’t been all that good at using her magic to fight, but that didn’t matter when she could do this much to protect the city. But beyond that, she was witty and clever, and masked any and every anxious thought behind a thick veil of humour. They’d even gotten to talking about the physics of these portals in the gaps between fighting hordes of demons.
Riri had already split off to take care of coordinating rescue-work for anyone who had been hurt by the attack, while Harley was amongst those gathering back on the bridge to make sure that Harry and the twins were safe and okay. Agatha and the demons may have been well and truly defeated, but that apparently did not mean that things were over. Judging by Peter’s recent warning, they had maybe two minutes before a swarm of reporters made it to the bridge to quiz them about all that had happened.
“Uh… Darcy? I don’t know what your deal is,” Harley said while stepping between her and Tommy, “but we all need to get out of here. I’ve seen the way Boston’s local news organisations report on us, and we do not need to be dealing with them just now, when they’re so desperate to find out what they can about our personal lives.”
“Sorry, I-“ Darcy started, and then stopped. “Oh god, I do not need my faculty knowing that I can do magic, they’d all be insufferable about it. Can we? Is there somewhere we can go? I don’t have a Sling Ring because those old timers at the Sanctum said I’m not good enough with it yet.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Harry responded, sounding a little absent. When Harley looked over to his friend, he immediately started to worry. Harry didn’t look injured in any major ways, but he was just staring at a spot of burnt-looking tarmac on the ground. Harley hadn’t been close enough to see the showdown between Harry and his mom, but he can’t imagine it was anything but traumatic. Without even looking, he spun open a portal to the Playground, and Harley took point on directing everyone through it before the reporters could arrive.
Everyone was accounted for except for Peter and Billy, but Peter had already communicated that he had business to take care of with the owner of the fucking spaceship that had shown up part-way through the fight. That ship had since disappeared and gone who knew where, but if Peter had a handle on it, Harley wasn’t worried. If he needed help, Harley would probably be the first one to hear.
“Woahhh,” America Chavez called out as she stepped through the portal and into the team’s main facility. “This place looks so official!”
“It’s not that fancy,” Tommy disagreed with her. Harley had noticed that he was in a much better place mentally, and suspected that fighting demons with Gwen by his side had probably done a lot to work out his very understandable rage.
Once everyone but Harry and Harley were through, Harley turned around to make sure he was okay. “C’mon, dude, let’s get out of here.”
“Mmm,” Harry hummed, and nodded towards the portal. “You first, I’m right behind you.”
Obligingly, Harley stepped through the portal. It was in that moment that he felt something rumble on the other side, and heard a crack erupt in the bridge behind him.
“Where do you think you’re going, mini-Harkness?”
Harley whirled on the spot. That voice had sounded like it was generating its own echo, and like it sent a chill everywhere it touched. It sounded wrong. And by the time Harley had turned all the way, the portal closed behind him.
“Where do you think you’re going, mini-Harkness?”
The words, and the voice, shook Harry to his core enough that he started to feel again. He knew that voice, even if there was so much more to it now than the last encounter with her. To the best of Harry’s knowledge, Rio Vidal had just been an ordinary witch, albeit extremely powerful. But this? Even by sound alone, Harry could tell that she was far from normal. Slowly, Harry turned to face her.
The last time, Rio had been wearing a simple, dark hooded robe. Now, she was dressed in a swampy green. The make-up on her face - if it was even make-up at all - made her skin look more like a bare skull. In her right hand she wielded a faintly glowing engraved blade, and in the other was a lotus flower that appeared to be alternating through processes of dying and reviving without cessation. Harry Osborn-Harkness may have just defeated the Salem Witch empowered by a contract with Mephisto, but he was well out of his depth here.
Rio grinned as she watched the fear begin to grow on Harry’s face. She knew she was in control here, and it was clear that she loved it. A swarm of reporters began trying to approach from either end of the now cracked bridge - brave of them, when the bridge’s integrity could very well fail soon. Rio simply raised her white hand, and a pulse of something rocketed outwards before closing back in and taking her and Harry somewhere else. A dimensional teleportation of some kind, Harry could feel it. He prepared to use his sling ring to get the hell out of there, but was given pause when Rio sheathed her blade and held out an open palm.
“Relax,” Rio tutted. “If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead.”
Harry cautiously glanced around, and took in his surroundings. He was in a small, swampy domain with a sky filled with blackness. Around him, thriving life bloomed everywhere. “Then what do you want?”
“My dues,” Rio answered, an unnerving grin plastered across her face. “Your dearest mother’s life was owed to me. I couldn’t take it myself; that would be against the rules. You would’ve had my help, but apparently you didn’t need it. All wouldn’t be well if that bitch hadn’t betrayed me and made a deal with Mephisto. Bastard loves to take what isn’t his.”
Harry was lost. He was so lost. Even so, he had a bad feeling about all this, and it wasn’t just the fear of everything Rio was apparently capable. No, she talked as if Mephisto himself was no more than her equal. As if she too were some kind of cosmic being. “So what do you want from me?”
Rio tutted again. It was annoying, but Harry couldn’t afford to lose his cool in front of someone with potentially unfathomable power; he very much wanted to make it back to his friends alive. Apparently she didn’t want him dead, and he intended to keep it that way. “As I said, my dues. Agatha was mine, but after what just happened, I’ll have to share custody with Mephisto, which wouldn’t have happened had you just killed her faster. That, child, is on you.”
So you wanted me to kill her, and now that she’s dead I’m in trouble anyway, Harry thought to himself dryly. Perhaps now he could see what Rio and Agatha saw in each other; they both made no sense.
“That’s exactly right,” Rio said, and let out a short cackle. “You’ll have to work if you want to hide your thoughts from me, boy. Anyway, let’s get down to business and then you can be on your merry way. You could have killed her faster - rather impressive, I must say - but you didn’t. Your life isn’t owed to me like hers was, but now you’ll need to prove that you deserve it. I’ll be nice, and give you and your little friends some time to recover, and then I’ll find some new agents to send your way. Defeat them, and I’ll leave you alone. Fail? I’ll be claiming your soul for myself. How’s that for lenient?”
“Wha-“ Harry started to ask, but before he could even get the full word out, he was back on the bridge, alone.
Peter closed the apartment door behind him, having made sure that he was the last one inside. It constantly felt like if he gave Nat a chance, she’d escape and he’d never see her again - even though she had voluntarily tagged along. The whole trip from the park back to the apartment had been spent in near silence, Nat hanging to Peter’s back while he swung and Billy flew the most direct path possible.
But now she was inside Peter’s apartment - and the symbolism of it certainly didn’t escape Peter, even if it wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Back when Nat was a fugitive from the United States, after the Sokovia Accords came into effect, she’d occasionally sneak back into the country and come visit Peter. He and his aunt had kept her secret, and Nat had taken to training him. Even Mr. Stark had kept the secret once he’d finally found out about Nat’s activities in New York.
And now, instead of finding Peter at his aunt’s place in New York, she was here in his place in Boston. Peter was growing up, and against every expectation he’d possibly had, his Mama Spider was here to see it. She was here. Once he’d pulled enough to hear the click of the door properly shutting, Peter took nervous, careful steps down the short hallway and into the shared space at the end.
There she was. Natasha Romanoff, sitting at the kitchen island on one of Peter and Harley’s bar stools, while Billy poured himself a tall glass of water and added in some ice cubes from the freezer. She turned to face Peter as he approached, and she smiled. “This is a nice little place you have.”
“Thanks,” Peter said as he swept around to the other side of the kitchen island, where he was able to be close to both Billy and Nat at the same time. “I suppose I should introduce you two. Nat, this is my little brother Billy. Billy, this is Natasha Romanoff, who taught me most of what I know about how to fight.”
Billy’s jaw dropped. “I… I kind of suspected, but you’re really the Black Widow?”
Nat’s lips curled up a little more. “That is what they used to call me, yes. And you’re pretty handy with that magic, Billy. Honestly, you kind of remind me of Peter when he was younger, and just starting out.”
“Really?” asked Billy, eyes shining from what Peter knew he had found to be a hugely complimentary comparison.
“Really,” Nat said, sparing a grinning glance towards Peter. “Looks like the tradition of picking up strays and taking them in really runs in the family, huh?”
“Seems that way,” Peter smiled back, thinking back to how Nat and Mr. Stark especially, among all the Avengers, had taken Peter under their wings when he was Billy’s age. But now that introductions had been made, Peter wasn’t going to let Nat escape her fate any longer. He had so many questions, one of which was how she even remembered his civilian identity, but he knew he had to start from the beginning and work his way there. “So… what happened? Where have you been all this time?”
“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” Nat asked, but Peter could tell she was asking rhetorically. Even so, he shook his head. “A little over two years ago - which is hard to keep track of when you’re travelling through space - I woke up at the bottom of the cliff on Vormir where we got the soul stone. I figured we must have succeeded in gathering all the stones, and it would only be a matter of time before somebody showed to pick me up. And yet… nobody.”
“We… we didn’t know,” Peter lamented, because if he’d had even an inkling that Nat was alive, he would have been the first volunteer to go find her, school be damned.
“I know, kid,” said Nat without a trace of malice or contempt - though with Nat, that didn’t mean anything. She was impossible to read. “And I’ve made my peace with that. I had to fight the Red Skull, who was basically indentured to guard the soul stone - and pissed that I survived the ordeal - and managed to make my way across the planet to where Vormir’s civilisation lived. They explained that there’s some kind of magical barrier on the planet to protect the soul stone, which is why nobody was able to know I was alive.”
“Huh,” went Peter, connecting those particular dots quite easily. “So that’s why you know who I am, if it took you past last November to get off Vormir.”
Nat’s only response to that was to stare at him, which was enough to elicit an explanation from Peter before she returned to her story.
“I fucked some shit up, and the only way to fix things was for Doctor Strange to cast a spell that made anyone who knew my name forget who I am,” Peter summarised, knowing that he could tell her the full story about that whole ordeal later.
“Of course,” Nat chuckled. “Trust you to get involved in crazy shit without supervision. So… what next? Right, I managed to get off Vormir after all that time, and… I was going to come straight back to Earth, but I remembered something Carol said about how many planets were out there without anybody like the Avengers. So I… may have turned myself into a freelance hero for a while. Carol actually knows that I’m alive, but I asked her not to tell anyone, to let me do it myself. She’s the one who encouraged me to come back, just a few days ago.”
Peter exhaled deeply. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, freeze or just plain shout. Instead, he said the next thing that came to mind. “Clint’s gonna be so pissed. I heard through the grapevine that your sister Yelena - who I still haven’t had a chance to meet - tried to kill him to avenge you.”
“She-“ Nat started, and then stopped to sigh. “Of course she did. And… I know he’s going to be upset with me, but we’ll work through it. And before you make your puppy dog eyes at me, yes I’m going to visit him soon. Not before I’ve had a proper chance to catch up with my favourite student, though.”
“I’ll allow it,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “But only because I’ve missed you and want to spend time with you too. You just have to promise me that when my boyfriend walks through the front door, you’ll be nice and not interrogate him.”
“Hey, uh… Peter?” Billy questioned, now standing behind him and staring at his back, where he’d taken a pretty brutal hit from Agatha’s magic. “Are you- is your back okay? I know you heal fast, but that looks like a bad burn.”
Peter shrugged. In truth, his back definitely stung a lot, but the pain had been going on for long enough now that he’d mostly gotten used to it. “It’ll be alright in a day or two. Hurts, though.”
“Here, why don’t I help out with that?” Nat said as she got up from the kitchen island stool and reached into her utility belt for something. From the belt, she produced a small tub of a kind of green glowing jelly. “The locals of a small town I helped out a month back on Torfa gave me this. It’s really good for burns. It’ll numb the pain and help regenerate tissue. May I?”
Peter nodded, and Nat swerved around him, promptly getting to work lathering the jelly onto his back. Within seconds, a cool, gentle feeling washed over the burn and the stinging pain faded into nothingness.
“Damn, that is effective,” Peter sighed as relief set itself into his body. Now that he’d had a chance to hear Nat’s story and make sure she wasn’t going to bail just as quickly as she’d shown up, he turned his attention to his little brother. “Billy, are you okay? Like, really okay?”
Billy shrugged, and Peter could see the tears beginning to well up in the boy’s eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve never… that woman wanted to kill me. Me.”
Peter held out his arms while Nat moved to take a seat across from him again, and in mere seconds, Billy was in his embrace. “You know I’ll always protect you, Billy. Even when you’re all grown up and able to look after yourself, I’m going to have your back. As your big brother who loves you, that’s my job. You have this big, actual family now, and we all look out for each other.”
“Thanks,” Billy sniffled into Peter’s shoulder. “I… guess I’m still getting used to having a family that isn’t shit. Um… speaking of which, is everyone else okay?”
With one arm, Peter grabbed his phone from the padded pocket of his suit where he usually kept it, and checked for any updates from Harley and the others. “Yup. Everyone’s a little banged up but no serious injuries. According to Harls, Teddy wants to know if you still want him to come stay the night and keep you company or not. And according to Daisy, she and Wanda are almost back and Wanda is absolutely losing her shit. So… prepare for her to dote on you a lot.”
Billy chuckled a little between sniffles. “Yes, I, uh… want Teddy here. And… I think I’m okay with Wanda being like that if she isn’t too, you know, smothering.”
“I’ll reign her in if I have to,” Peter assured him, and gently kissed the top of his brother’s head. Across from him, Nat grinned and cooed at the two of them, and Peter had to resist the urge to throw something at her.
The sun had long since set over a darkened New York port warehouse where Justin Hammer had summoned his young protege for a meeting. The man seethed, but simultaneously felt a well of joy and excitement. Getting blipped mere moments after he was freed from prison had put a real dent in his plans for revenge against the foul, arrogant Tony Stark. And to find out that he was dead? In part, it was delightful, and yet his plans had been stolen from him… almost. If he couldn’t deal the final blow against Stark himself, naturally the next course of action was to tear down his legacy.
And that was where this young man sitting across from him came in. See, the blip had brought it’s own opportunities. The young Ezekiel Stane was a brilliant genius, and the quiet peace of those five years had given Ezekiel what he needed to truly polish that genius. For example, this very warehouse where Justin and Ezekiel worked on their inventions would never set off any red flags for the remainder of the Avengers, Stark Industries or anybody else of concern; not with the new material Ezekiel had developed which protected the entire warehouse from any kind of surveillance.
“You wanted to see me, Hammer?” Ezekiel said dryly. Justin could tell, clear as day, that Ezekiel neither trusted nor respected him. That was fine, though. He didn’t like it, but Justin was used to the disrespect. This was a use and be used world.
“Indeed, indeed,” Justin smiled. Even if he was confined to the world of lowlifes right now, Justin would tear down Stark Industries and raise Hammer Industries right back up to the top one day soon. “How is your latest project progressing?”
“I give it one month before the enhancement pieces are ready for deployment,” Ezekiel answered. “What about you? Have you located our targets?”
“I most certainly have,” Justin responded, thinking to the private investigators he’d hired and then killed once they finished their jobs. Pepper Potts was a skilled CEO, but she couldn’t hide her successor forever. “We’ll be going after a young man named Harley Keener. We’ll rob him of his future, just like Tony Stark tried to rob me of mine.”