Trespassing Is Okay When You're An Avenger
Natasha barely paused from packing her supply bag when someone softly knocked on the door to her room. She muttered over her shoulder for them to ‘come in’ as she closed the lid on her first-aid kit, and didn’t even need to glance behind her to know who it was.
Bucky had been less than subtle in the way his eyes had followed her about the room after Tony had retreated back upstairs, staying fixed on her unyielding face even as she went to get ready. It was no surprise to her, then, that he’d come to speak with her. Clearly he had something to say, as he allowed the door to swing shut behind him, but he would have to be the first to speak; Nat all but ignored him as she moved on to checking her tools.
It wasn’t until she’d made sure she had all her lockpicks tucked in their kit when the soldier finally cleared his throat. “Need a ride to Queens?” he offered. Again, it was far from subtle, but Nat wasn’t about to bite.
“Nah, Stark’s letting me take one of his cars, and I’d never pass up the opportunity to ‘accidentally’ put a dent on one of his prized possessions.” She had no intention of doing such a thing – she was going to be taking one of the more inconspicuous vehicles in the Stark Tower garage, not one of the ridiculously expensive sports cars – but oh, how a girl can dream.
“Right, right… and how’s your friend doing?” Nat quirked her eyebrow. “They’re from Queens too, right?” Bucky clarified, but Nat just stared patiently. They both knew she’d never told him that, and she wasn’t going to be tripped up that easily. Her vacant expression seemed to do the trick; he shook his head and dropped the pretence, letting it all come out in one, train-of-thought ramble. “Alright, we can all tell something’s going on, but you just happen to have a friend in some kind of trouble that has nothing to do with a mission, not long before Stark’s intern has his house burned down, and he wants you to investigate, acting like you owe him? And- and that Spider-thing has something to do with it? But the spider was also in trouble, so…”
“So…?”
“So was your friend the intern or the spider? ‘Cause that’s a whole lot of coincidence otherwise.” Bucky ended on, giving her a somewhat accusatory look.
She shrugged, not bothered one bit. “It’s not that coincidental, but fine. The spider was the friend I was concerned about, the one who left the blood in Sam’s car, but if you want me to be precise, I knew Peter before I met the spider, and his home-life hasn’t exactly been stable, so really I was worried about both of them, just in different ways.” As much as sharing Peter’s identity with other Avengers wouldn’t exactly be a risk, Nat had no intention of telling anyone before the kid had a chance to do it himself. Besides, that little tidbit of information didn’t make much of a difference where Bucky was concerned.
“Right…” The man muttered, looking like he was trying to piece the puzzle together in his head. “And Stark knew about all of this?”
Another shrug. “He knew parts of it. He knows everything now, though.”
Bucky stared at her for a good half-a-minute in response, clearly trying to sus her out. Nat couldn’t help but mentally chuckle; if a car-battery, some lemon juice and a pair of pliers wasn’t enough to make her talk, then staring really wouldn’t make a difference. As such, he would yet again have to be the one to break the silence, and it only took him 30 seconds to draw the same conclusion.
“There’s still something you’re not telling me.” Again, his voice was dripping with accusation. It was hard to not roll her eyes.
“I didn’t realise I had to tell you anything.”
Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. Ah crap. “They’re the same person.”
Oh, come on. “What do you mean?” Really? He got it from that?
“The intern and the spider- that’s why you said you’d promised to keep them under wraps, you…” he paused for a moment, eyes locked onto hers. “You found out before Stark did, and now he’s pissed at you.” The bastard spoke with complete conviction, and damn it if he wasn’t right on the money.
Nat gave a reluctant sigh, turning back to her supply bag and zipping it up. “Shame I don’t have a prize I can give you, a ribbon or something,” she muttered, hearing him shift behind her.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” He sounded slightly incredulous, even though he was the one who suggested it.
“Yes, you’re right,” she confirmed tiredly.
“Stark’s intern, though… he’s a ki- he’s a small kid, a strong breeze could take him down, so… so I take it he’s enhanced, if he’s able-“
“If you don’t mind, I have a police station to break into,” Nat said, cutting him off. She hauled the bag onto her shoulder and made to step around Bucky, but he moved into her path.
“I’m coming with you.”
Nat scoffed. “You really thing I need backup for something so easy?”
“No, I think the drive over will give you plenty of time to tell me the full story.” He gave her what can only be described as a shit-eating grin and stepped aside, finally allowing her through the door.
“Fine,” said Nat, dumping her bag into his unexpecting arms. “But you’re driving.”
-
The job itself was simple, in and out in under five minutes. Temporarily disable the security cameras, locate the forensics lab, gain access to the server and download copies of all the recent files (no more sifting through drawers of manilla folders in modern spying), do a quick sweep to make sure there’s no evidence of a break-in, and hey presto! Nat’s back in the car, with Bucky insisting on taking them through a Macdonald’s drive-through because she ‘skipped dinner’.
The sun has long-since set, meaning that New York City is lit up like a Christmas tree against the pitch-black sky as they cross the Queensboro bridge, but Nat’s eyes are fixed on the laptop in front of her. She doesn’t even take her eyes off it when she picks fries out of the to-go bag, frantically scanning each report as efficiently as she can. Unfortunately for her, they’re organised by case number rather than location, so it isn’t until the car is pulling onto 42nd street that Nat found the right one. She quickly supressed her sense of achievement in case it held bad news, and skimmed through it. This turned out to be the right call; there, in black and white, were the very words she didn’t want to read.
Evidence to suggest presence of accelerants used at scene of fire – case type changed to “CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION”
With just a touch of irritation, Nat read her findings out loud. “Henceforth, any and all proceedings will be enacted by the 110th precinct,” she finished, sending a copy of the document to Tony before slamming the laptop shut and stuffing it back into the bag by her feet. She’d had just about enough of his impatient sass the last time he sent her on an errand, so she wasn’t about to give him any excuses.
“Why do you sound upset, I thought you guys knew it wasn’t an accident?” Bucky asked, as she took a sip from her vanilla milkshake.
“We suspected. But yes – the fire was likely arson, which means there’s a higher chance it’s connected to the mess Peter got involved in, which would also mean he was right in thinking there’s a target on his back.”
“Ah, yes, and a teenager being in mortal danger is… bad?”
She could hear the humour in his voice, and it actually did work to tug the corner of her lip into a light smirk. “Yes, that is indeed no bueno,” she replied nonchalantly. It was the kind of phrasing she imagined Peter would find funny.
Bucky gave a considered nod. “And this teenager is now living in one of the most secure buildings on the east coast, right?”
“Correct.” Nat could sense what he was trying to do.
“So that means the threat is…?”
In spite of it, she had to stay pragmatic. “Minimal, sure – for now. But it doesn't change the fact that someone out there still wants him dead, and we don't know if they know he's still alive. Not to mention, we're all used to stuff like attempted murder and threats, but Peter's still just a kid. Ideally, there shouldn’t be any threats. Especially against someone like Spider-Man.”
“Why do you say it like that?” There was genuine curiosity behind that question, making Natasha realise that Bucky likely didn’t know much about the webslinger’s MO, outside of what she’d told him on the drive over and the general reputation vigilantes had. The spy took a second to collect her thoughts; if she was going to explain, she wanted to do it right.
“Well, aside from his recent endeavours, most of what Spidey does boils down to just being a generous neighbour. I did some research after I got back from that robot-fight, when I first got involved – I wanted a better sense of who the spider was. Well, the stuff I found was weirdly tame. He gives directions, helps carry heavy furniture into people’s trucks; there’s clips of him helping mend damaged stoplights, fetching frisbees from trees, doing completely mundane things but every time he’s helping people. Sure, there’s the more serious stuff, stopping muggings, interfering with cartels, but- okay, take the night I met him. He got me out of the way first, then he just webbed up the guys up. He made sure there was evidence and contacted the police. He didn’t beat them to a pulp, or particularly punish them for being criminals – there was no actual justice, not from him.
"That’s the thing – you see it all the time with vigilantes, even with people like us, who, yes, they step up and do shit, and the stuff they do is morally correct, but… they do it because they want to fight back at the world and the people who wronged them. Spid- Peter… doesn’t. He has enough reason to, but everything I’ve seen from him has come directly from wanting to help others, to do even just a little bit of good in the world. Nothing seems to be too small. And for the stuff that’s more serious, the focus isn’t on the bad guys, it’s on the people they hurt.” She let her words sit for a moment; once she’d started talking, Nat had found she had more to say than she realised. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t know his own limits. I don’t think he cares if he gets hurt, and that he takes that to mean it’s alright for him to throw himself at danger if it’ll help people.”
Nat was surprised by her own accuracy on that one.
“But you care,” Bucky observed, his quiet voice cutting through the silence left in the wake of her rant.
Nat sighed, and took another, longer sip from her cup. “At some point, he’s going to have to realise he isn’t alone anymore. I think he has? I don’t know, you can’t tell with this kid. Right when you think you can predict him, something comes right out of left field.”
“Well, hey,” Bucky said, oddly upbeat for someone so dour, which probably meant he was trying his best to be reassuring. “At least it’s all in the open. Plus, y’know, all this cloak and dagger stuff is our specialty.” She could feel him trying to encourage her, to make her see things more positively, but this was an uneasiness she couldn’t shake.
As they were talking, a thought had struck her; even if they made things safe for him, would he be able to accept the changes that have happened through all this? Sure, he was at the tower for now, but say they got to bottom of everything and they knew he’d be alright on his own – would he stay? The Starks would have him, she had no doubt of that. Whether they realised it or not, they both care for that boy. She’d never suspected the great Tony Stark of having a paternal side, but there was no mistaking it. The kid had endeared himself to both of them, irreversibly so. And yet, there was a worrying possibility that Peter wouldn’t accept this – either because he didn’t realise it or he didn’t believe it – in which instance, he might assume he was bound back for Queens. If that was the case, would the Starks correct him? And would Peter even understand why they’d want him to stay?
Well, there was one thing for sure; the Starks would have to start being more honest with him (and with themselves) if Peter was going to stand a chance of settling in to his new life.
Nat could always give them a little nudge.
-
“Alright, well, knowing it was arson at least justifies conducting some kind of investigation, but we still don’t have anything to implicate Hammer, or lead us closer to that Gargle-guy,” Tony muttered, pouring himself a fresh glass of scotch. He held an empty tumbler in her direction, but she declined – she’d always preferred vodka.
“It’s Gargan and you know it, and yes, you’re right. The kid say anything else before he went to sleep?” Speaking of sleep, Nat was starting to feel like she could use some herself; it was nearing 2am, and the whole tower (except Tony) had been completely dormant by the time they’d made it back. Bucky had gone straight to the Avengers’ floor, but Nat figured Tony would want to discuss their findings.
In response to her question, the engineer shook his head. “The moment he thought about that stuff in the medbay, he started freaking out. Kid’s more wound up than a pocket watch in a centrifuge – he tried talking when we got back up here, but Pep and I figured it was too soon. He needed rest, more than anything. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
That sounded about right. She dreaded to think what that fire must’ve been like for him, especially considering what she’d seen on his file. “This can’t have been easy for him.”
The laugh that came from Stark’s throat sounded involuntary, and slightly strangled. The man brought his glass to his lips like a reflex, then thought for a moment before he spoke. “If that’s how banged up he got with superpowers, I don’t even want to think about what it would’ve been like without them.” The glass went back down on the counter, and Tony’s hands came back up to rub his face. “What am I gonna do with that kid?” he mumbled into his palms.
She doubted he actually wanted an answer, but Nat gave one anyway, unable to resist. “I think you already know.” His eyes snapped up to her impassive face. She didn’t flinch; instead, she doubled down. “I think you’ve known for a while.”
Tony’s face morphed from wide-eyed surprise to a mild grimace. “One step at a time, Rushman.” Well, he didn’t deny it, which boded well, even if the man was still clearly wrapped up in his own head. “We’ll talk to Peter when he’s up, see if he can give us any info to go off. I take it you’ll join us?” It sounded like the conversation was coming to an end, so Nat hopped down off her stool.
“Works for me. Oh, and we should also ask more about his abilities,” she added as she pulled the strap of her bag onto her shoulder.
“Cho’s looking into it.”
She shook her head. “Sounds like there might be things that won’t show up on a microscope – he once mentioned this sixth-sense deal he’s got going on.”
Tony stared at her. “My kid sees dead people?”
An interesting choice of words. “More like he can sense threats. Apparently the Hammer facility itself sets it off – maybe if we know more about how that sense works, we can figure out what could trigger it like that.”
Tony gave a tired nod. “That… would make sense.” With a slight shake of his head, Stark downed the last of his whiskey. “I’ll let you know when he’s up.”
Nat figured that was her cue to leave. “It’ll work out, Tony,” she said as she made for the elevator. “The odds are on our side.”