Chapter 10
Natasha lay flat on the roof of a tall apartment building in Queens. It was late Friday afternoon, and Peter was out of school. In order to disguise herself, Natasha had put on an old blond wig she had ordered Peter to buy for her. It was too time-consuming to dye her hair and style it herself. She had been laying here silently for hours, just as she had been for the past three days, watching, observing every single person in view as they went about their day. But now, it was time to take action.
Peter was in position, well hidden from the view of any pedestrians or people in buildings. Whenever Peter went out as Spider-Man now, he was immediately swarmed. By regular people on the streets, some screaming angrily and some shouting encouragement; by the media with their flashing cameras and reporters and vans that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Ross and the government had faced massive backlash for declaring Spider-Man a criminal, primarily because of their refusal to release any evidence against him. Even so, he hadn’t gone out much, by order of Tony. After all, many people still hated him. And the media didn’t care whether he was guilty or not, only that he was the biggest story in America. So today, his job was to stay hidden, and stealthily take out Jasper Sitwell’s guards.
The doors to the large building opened, and a stream of government agents walked out, including a tall brunette woman. She was their target. Natasha put her finger to her ear. “Peter, Sitwell has left the building.” She looked around. “Twenty guards are stationed in his general area. Take them out. Quietly.”
“Copy that,” Peter whispered back.
Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha caught a flash of blue and red as Peter swung across the plaza. But she focused on Sitwell, who was talking with a woman who had exited the building with him. Eventually, they broke off, and Sitwell headed off alone.
Natasha faintly heard the zip of Peter’s webs. “Two down,” Peter told her.
“Great. I’m headed down.” Natasha got to her feet, then secured her grappling hook to the ledge of the roof. Then she tied the other end around her waist, and lowered herself to the ground, keeping an eye on where she had last seen Sitwell turn the corner. When her feet touched the ground, she freed herself from the grappling hook, and walked briskly after Sitwell.
She trailed behind him for about five minutes, Peter counting down the guards he took out. Sitwell had slowed, and was looking at his phone. Natasha took a deep breath. This was her chance. Sitwell would be realizing that his guards were nowhere to be seen any moment now.
Natasha caught up to her, put her arm around his shoulders, and whispered sharply, “Keep walking.”
Sitwell flinched, turning his head sharply to look at her. “What-”
“I said, walk,” Natasha growled.
The former Hydra agent looked scared but defiant, and was about to open his mouth when Natasha pushed him along.
“Listen to me very carefully,” Natasha murmured in his ear. “Your guards are down, thanks to my associate. You’re defenseless. If you try to make a move, I'll shoot the pistol I’m holding right now, which will bring your miserable life to an unfortunate end.”
“Who are you?” Sitwell hissed.
“Oh, I think you know who I am,” Natasha said viciously. “And you know that I would not hesitate to kill you on the spot. In fact, I’m having trouble resisting the temptation to do it right now.”
“Natasha Romanoff,” Sitwell mused.
“That’s me, Sitwell. Long time no see, huh? Now, shut your fucking mouth.”
Sitwell smiled lightly as they passed someone, and Natasha relaxed her grip, making it seem like they were simply walking side-by-side, having a conversation. “What can you possibly do if I make a scene?” Sitwell asked boldly, when they were out of earshot.
“I can knock you out just by pressing a spot on your neck, Sitwell, you won’t get a single word out. And if you do, my associate will cause a commotion not far from here, pulling the attention of every person in the area away from you and onto them.” Natasha sighed. “Or, you know, I’ll just shoot you. Now, shut up or I’m going to pull the trigger just for fun, got it?”
Sitwell looked over at her, eyes wide, but Natasha only smiled sweetly back. She put a finger to her ear. “How’s it going, bro?”
“Good, good,” Peter replied breathlessly.
“Meet you back home?”
“See you there in five.”
“So… What do we do with him?” Peter asked tentatively.
They were back in Peter’s room. Natasha's wig was gone. Jasper Sitwell sat silently in front of the two of them, tied tightly to a chair, with a blindfold made from one of Peter’s shirts covering his eyes.
“I say we leave him here for a bit, then come back later and try to get him to talk,” Natasha replied.
“Shouldn’t we keep an eye on him?”
Natasha pondered that for a moment, then decided, “Yeah, we should. At least one of us should be in here at all times.”
“By the way, you knocked him out, right?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Natasha affirmed. She stepped forward, and snapped her fingers sharply in Sitwell’s face. “Hey, dumbass. Can you hear me?” She checked his pulse. “He’s out.” She patted him on the head.
Peter tugged on her arm. “Then we don’t want to wake him up!”
Natasha stepped back. “Don’t worry. I hit him pretty hard before we brought him in here. He won’t wake up for at least an hour.”
Peter grinned, and flopped down on his bed. “Great. So we have time to relax.”
“Incorrect. We have time to make a plan.”
“Oh, come on!” Peter groaned. “We can relax, just for a bit, right? It’s finally Friday!”
Natasha bit her lip. “I don’t know…”
“Dude, we can make a plan once we interrogate him. What information do we have now that we haven’t had for the past few days?” When Natasha didn’t respond, Peter added earnestly, “Hey, you can even help me study for my calculus quiz!”
“I hate calculus,” Natasha protested.
“I’m not much of a fan either, but I still need to do well in the class.”
“Maybe later. When’s your quiz?”
“Tuesday.”
“Exciting.”
“Yeah.”
The room grew quiet, no one having anything more to say. The two partners stared at their unconscious prisoner.
Natasha tried not to grin wistfully as she remembered kicking him off the building. What a time 2014 had been. She had forced herself not to burst out laughing when Steve started petting Sitwell’s arms reassuringly, only to step back and allow Natasha to kick him square in the chest, knocking him over the edge. Certainly a strange thing to remember fondly, but with a life like hers, she had to treasure the small things. It was funny, she thought, that Sitwell had been kicked off a tall building, then hit by a truck shortly after, and was now sitting in front of her, years later, perfectly alive. He was like a fly that wouldn’t leave her alone no matter how many times she swatted it.
“There’s an old, moldy piece of pizza wrapped in tinfoil at the compound,” Peter commented casually, breaking the silence in a way only he could.
“Uh, what?” Natasha squinted at him in confusion.
“There’s a sticky note on it that says, If you take this you die.”
Natasha snorted. “Ah.”
“I see it every time I go to the compound,” Peter continued. “In the back of the refrigerator.”
“Charming.”
“It’s yours, right?”
“Yeah, from like, two years ago. What’s your point?”
“Well, if I take it… do I die?”
Natasha looked back at her book, hiding her smile behind a stony, deadpan face. “Obviously.”
Peter frowned. “That’s dumb. How?”
“Best you don’t find out,” Natasha said mysteriously.
The teen stared at her for a while. “Y’know, sometimes you really can be scary.”
“Are there times when I’m not?” Natasha asked, mocking offense.
“Oh, for sure!” Peter exclaimed with a grin. “I know you like to think you’re the darkest, most terrifying creature on this planet, but really you’re a big softie. Most of the time.”
“Peter, you’re really hurting my feelings,” Natasha told him, stamping her foot on the ground. “I’m super scary. I promise.”
“I disagree.”
“Wrong answer!”
Peter put on a fake frowny face. “Fine, fine. You’re scary. Utterly terrifying, in fact. Now, will you help me with calculus?”
“Thank you!” Natasha said triumphantly. “I appreciate it. Now, I hate calculus with a burning passion, but maybe I can put aside my personal issues with the subject to help you.”
“Wow, that’s so kind of you,” Peter drawled. “Now, will you take a look at this problem?” He opened his notebook to the right page, then threw it at her with a sheepish grin.
Natasha caught it, and stared at the problem for a moment before slowly laying her forehead on the paper. “I hate calculus so fucking much.”
Peter shook his head in exasperation.
When Jasper Sitwell woke up, it was getting dark outside. Natasha and Peter were playing Battlefront. The prisoner didn’t say anything, but Natasha caught the slight movement of his head out of the corner of her eye. She stood up abruptly.
“What are you doing?” asked Peter, clearly distracted by the game.
“Sitwell’s awake.”
Peter jumped up immediately. “What?”
“The guy we’ve had tied to a chair for the past hour is awake.”
“No, I heard you, I heard you. One sec…”
“If you heard me, why’d you say ‘what’?” Natasha asked with a sly grin, purely to be annoying.
“Because it took me a moment to register what you were saying,” Peter explained seriously.
Natasha nodded seriously right back at him. “Right, right. Okay, do you want to get up now?”
Peter managed to tear his eyes away from the screen. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this.”
“Great.” Natasha waited for Peter to pause the game, then turned to Sitwell. “What’s up, Jasper? How’s life?”
“Not great, at the moment,” their prisoner replied darkly.
“So, I’ve been waiting to- wait, just a minute.” She turned to Peter. “For obvious reasons, I’m not going to name her, but when is the other person who lives in this place getting back?”
Peter checked the time on his desk clock. “Uh, half an hour to an hour, probably?”
“Excellent. I’ll help her with dinner.”
“She’ll like that, I think.”
“Great.” Natasha went back to eyeing Sitwell harshly. “Now, Jasper, as I was saying, I’ve been waiting to ask you some questions.” She paused, in case Sitwell had something to say to that, but she was met with silence, so she asked airily, “Do you happen to know anything about someone named Gwen Stacy?”
“No.”
Peter snorted in derision. Natasha raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I have reason to believe you’re lying.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint.”
Peter jumped up suddenly. “C’mon, man-”
“Hey, Spider-Man, cut it out.” Natasha said sharply. “You think I haven’t whittled information out of a prisoner before?”
Peter cast his eyes to the floor, muttering. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Natasha didn’t take her eyes off of Sitwell. “So, where are you keeping Stacy?”
“Who?”
“Wrong answer. Whatever. Moving on.” Natasha cleared her throat. “Now, purely out of curiosity, how did you manage to survive getting hit by a truck?”
Sitwell’s eyes were blindfolded, but Natasha could feel them burning into her skull. “I’m not exactly sure, to be honest. Woke up in the hospital with a lot of broken bones and a skull fracture.”
“I have to say, at first I wasn’t too thrilled when I found out you survived. I thought the world had been cleansed of your presence.” Natasha paused to pace the room. “But then I realized I got lucky, because you are the easiest person to get information out of. Want to know why?”
“Not particularly.”
“Because you’re scared. So many bad people, Hydra agents, for example, put their cause before their own lives. I’m sure you’ve heard of those guys who bite down on a cyanide pill in their mouth before they can be captured? Yeah, well, I’ve caught you twice, and you don’t dare do that, do you? No, your life is more important to you than any cause you’ve ever worked towards. So, if I put a gun to your head right now, is there any chance you won’t give me answers?”
“You can’t kill me,” Sitwell spat. “You don’t have anyone else. If you kill me, you’ll never get any answers.”
“Then I’ll find another way. You can’t seriously believe that I’m going to give up because of a minor convenience, can you? If you don’t talk, I kill you, and figure something else out. I’m quite good at adapting.”
Sitwell was silent.
Natasha smirked. “Alternatively, if you do talk, I promise that I’ll send you straight back to Ross, unharmed.”
“He’ll kill me.”
“I have a list of demands for him. I’ll tack on a request for your pardon and protection. If he doesn’t comply, I have plenty of dirt on him that’ll put him out of his job.”
“Why should I trust you? You are, after all, a notorious liar.”
“Why should I trust that you’ll tell me the truth?”
Sitwell was quiet for a moment. “I think this is a test.”
“What’s your answer?”
He set his jaw. “Because you’ll find out. And you’ll kill me.”
Natasha smiled lightly. “Exactly.”
“Can you answer my question now? Why should I trust you?”
“I’ll give you my word.”
“I hate to say it, but that doesn’t reassure me.”
“I never break my word,” Natasha told him calmly. “Also, this is your only chance of survival. If you don’t agree, I promise that I would be happy to kill you.”
“Of course.” Sitwell exhaled loudly, before saying maddeningly, “I think I’ll need a few hours to think about it.”
Natasha only nodded, satisfied. “Sounds good to me. It’s six o’clock right now. I’ll give you until midnight. Sound okay?”
“Could you make it later in the morning, by any chance?”
“That’s a negative. Six hours should be plenty, I think. Right, Spider-Man?”
“Agreed,” Peter chimed in.
“And remember, Sitwell,” Natasha added. “If you say a single word in the next six hours, I’m going to assume you’ve made up your mind. So do keep your mouth shut. And who knows, if you agree to my terms, maybe I’ll give you a bit of food.”
Sitwell raised his hand, and Peter almost laughed out loud. “Yes?” Natasha asked politely.
“Can I have a glass of water?”
Natasha pondered it for a moment, then decided, “Sure. I’m not a terrible person. Spider-Man, can you get him a glass of water?”
“Yep!” Peter bounded out of the room and into the kitchen, returning less than a minute later with glass in hand. He gave it to Sitwell, who raised the glass. “Cheers,” he said with a stone-cold expression.
“Guys, what the actual HELL-”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s only for a little bit!”
Aunt May was standing in the kitchen, looking considerably flustered. “You kidnapped a government agent and tied him to a chair in your bedroom!”
“It’s temporary,” Natasha put in quietly, standing a few feet behind Peter, whose expression said that he wished he was anywhere else in the world.
“That doesn’t make me feel better!”
“C’mon, this is the only way we can fix our mess!” Peter protested.
May glared at him. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” When Peter didn’t respond, she began pacing the room, muttering to herself, “He’s going to get himself killed. He’s going to get killed. He’s an idiot. How is he even still alive?”
Peter didn’t have an answer to that, and neither, it seemed, did May. So, Natasha stepped forward. “Listen, I know this has the potential to be dangerous. But I promise, I’m an expert at this stuff. This is my job. And if things go south, and it seems like you might be in danger, I know Tony can protect you. You guys will be just fine. And we’re going to release Sitwell as soon as we can clear our names. Is that all right?”
May stopped pacing, wringing her hands in worry. “Are you sure?”
“One-hundred percent!” Peter piped in.
“Yeah. What he said,” Natasha added lamely.
“Fine, fine. As long as you make sure he doesn’t escape. And that he can’t be tracked back here.”
“We’ve got it all covered,” Natasha assured her. “I promise." She lowered her voice. "Just make sure not to use your or Peter’s name in this apartment. We don't want Sitwell running back to Ross with that kind of information.”
Peter jumped forward. “Great! Now that that’s all figured out, what’s for dinner?”
May smirked. “You’ll find out in half an hour.”
“I’d be happy to help,” Natasha offered. “As compensation for all the trouble I’ve caused.”
“Oh, Nat, I know that you’re not the cause of the trouble-”
“That is most certainly not true,” Natasha stated apologetically.
May was already bustling around the kitchen. “Oh, never mind, never mind, I would absolutely love your help. Now, get out of here, Spider-Man, and go hang out with your prisoner.”
“Okay, okay!” Peter grinned. “Bye, Nat.”
Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “Bye, Spider-Boy.”
“Man!” Peter called over his shoulder. “Spider-Man!” He shut the door behind him, then flopped down on his bed, mumbling, “It’s Spider-Man.” He looked up to find Sitwell staring at him, lips curving upwards in a disdainful smile. “Oh, shut up, Jasper!”
Natasha awoke in Peter’s chair. She checked the time. 11:45 pm. “Fifteen minutes, Sitwell,” she yawned. “Made your decision yet?”
Their prisoner was silent, but Peter hopped up from his bed. He, clearly, was still wide awake. “Finally! I was scared I was going to have to wake you up!”
Natasha blinked the sleep out of her eyes. “Mhmm…”
“Ready for some epic plan-making?”
“Plan-making? Just say ‘planning.’”
“Fine, ready for some epic planning?” Peter frowned. “No, that doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
Natasha closed her eyes again, apparently already tired of her young companion. “The first sentence didn’t have any ring to begin with.”
“I disagree.”
“Well, you’re wrong then.”
Peter didn’t have a retort to that devastating argument. Natasha let the silence sink in for a few moments, savoring the satisfaction. Finally, she asked, “Hey, Sitwell, you up?”
Their prisoner nodded slowly.
“Made your decision yet?”
“Perhaps.”
Peter sighed. “Wow, that’s helpful. Do you need to be reminded of the options?”
“No, thank you.”
“Then what’ll it be?” Natasha demanded.
Sitwell exhaled slowly. Then, he said calmly, “I will give you the information you need, in exchange for my life and pardon from Secretary Ross.”
Peter clapped his hands. “Let’s go!”
Natasha thumped Sitwell on the back, saying cheerfully, “I knew you would come around, buddy!”
“You’re making me want to change my mind.”
Natasha grinned. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare. So, first of all, do you, in fact, know who Gwen Stacy is?”
“Yes.”
“More detail, perhaps?” Peter asked.
“Shush, Spider-Boy, this is my interrogation,” Natasha interrupted.
“Oh, c’mon, please? Don’t you have to teach me? You’re my mentor!”
“How about you just watch and learn? Sit back, enjoy the show. Or take notes or something.”
“On what he says, or on your tactics?” When Natasha didn’t respond immediately, he pointed out, “You aren’t even interrogating him anymore, he already agreed to give you all the answers.”
Natasha simply shrugged. “Take notes on what he says, then. Form a plan. I don’t know. Just stop talking.” She turned back to Sitwell. “Care to explain who exactly Gwen Stacy is?”
Peter opened his mouth in offense. “That’s what I asked!” he whispered. The two adults ignored him.
Sitwell pursed his lips. “She’s Secretary Ross’s new Spider-Man.”
“How? Why?” Natasha demanded.
“How? He’s going to send her after you guys, capture Spider-Man here, probably kill him, or at least unmask him, and then give her the mantle of Spider-Man as his own, personal, government minion who does whatever she’s told. Like the Winter Soldier, except making her exactly what he wanted out of the Avengers by way of the Sokovia Accords. Spider-Man, of course, having not signed them, is a threat to him. And why? I think I just explained that.”
“How does she have the same powers as Spider-Man?”
Sitwell sighed deeply. “The multiverse.”
“What?” Peter burst out, unable to contain his excitement. “She’s, like, me from another dimension? That is so cool!”
“Seriously?” Natasha asked, masking the many emotions and thoughts running through her mind with only an eye roll.
“Really, Natasha? The multiverse? That’s not, like, at all interesting to you?”
“Maybe a little bit. Let me process that for a little while.”
Peter nodded quickly. “Oh, yeah. Right. Great. Go ahead.”
“Thank you. So, Sitwell, Ross is dabbling into the multiverse?”
“I don’t think he meant to get another Spider-Man, specifically. He was just looking for a lot of power. Enough power to take down the Avengers. Because, clearly, there’s nothing on Earth that can truly destroy the Avengers.” He hesitated. “Besides themselves, of course.”
Natasha winced. “Ouch. Too soon, Jasper.”
“How did he even manage to access the multiverse?” Peter interjected eagerly.
This time, Natasha let Sitwell answer without making her own remark. “To be completely honest with you, he declined to share that information with me,” he admitted. “Most likely, he just has a team of people who really, really hate the Avengers, or are working against their will. Take your pick. Either way, I have a feeling you can blow something up and end his whole scheme right there.”
“That is normally how it goes,” Natasha agreed.
“Sounds good,” Peter said proudly, nodding in satisfaction.
“Anything else?” Natasha asked, still all-business.
“That’s all I know.”
“Thanks. That was, surprisingly, really helpful. Would you mind if I go through it all, just to make sure I’ve got it all right?”
“Be my guest.”
“Fantastic. So, essentially, Secretary Ross somehow pulled another Spider-Man out of another dimension through some kind of multiverse technology, and he’s planning to make her his own Spider-Man puppet after taking down this dimension’s Spider-Man?”
“Bingo.”
“May I ask how it’s going?”
“Not well,” Sitwell replied grimly. “He’s holding her at the Raft prison, and she isn’t cooperating at all. She’s confused, scared, whatever, and refuses to have a conversation with anyone.”
“How long has Ross had her?”
“Almost three weeks.”
“And she’s been at the Raft the whole time?”
“Hasn’t moved.”
“Is there a plan to move her?”
“Not that I know of.”
Natasha was quiet for a solid minute. Peter stared at her as if waiting for a verdict. Finally, she clapped her hands together. “Okay, great job, everyone. Now, Sitwell, shut up for the time being. Spider-Man, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Does that mean let’s make a plan?”
“It does indeed.”
“It can’t wait till morning?”
“No it cannot.”
“Fine. Let me get some coffee.”
“You have two minutes.”
Peter jumped off of his bed, and sprinted out of the room. Natasha slumped down in his chair, and said sarcastically, to no one in particular, “This is going to be so much fun.”