It was unknown when Laura Kinney began feeling within the dark and empty space her unconscious mind drifted across. Still, it soon succumbed to the radiating warmth that made it comfortable as thousands of tiny soft cushions grounded it. The soothing hum of the flames, accompanied by their gentle crackling, caressed her ears, while a reassuring scent filled her senses, enveloping her in a comforting embrace. The cheap soap he used, and the homely smell he radiated, which was accompanied by the underlying smell of sweetness and grain of his aunt's pleasing wheatcakes brought memories and feelings that had the floor around her begin to crumble but the musty metallic stench of blood – of his blood, sparked her body awake – pushed memories of a spear embedding itself into his shoulder that commanded her to stand.
Getting onto her feet faster than the violent warning of death that was the unleashing of her claws, Laura's senses instantly honed in on the man who sat on the other end of the flame. The sudden burst of movement had consequences she was not used to, but she could not afford to show it.
"I do not recommend doing that while you are still recovering, Malen'kaya L'vitsa," a familiar, resounding, but gentle voice that contained a thick Slavic accent said to her. Kraven remained still, unphased and not worried about either her claws or the daggers she sent with her gaze alone, "Your body has yet to filter out the carbonadium fully, and though stunning your regeneration is – you need rest," Kraven looked at her past his brow, The Hunter's face alongside his bandaged body relaxed, the man more concerned with the fire he was poking at with a stick.
Laura remained defiant, however, guard up and growling, ignoring the burden of her weight on her wounded body, "You have won. The battle is over," Kraven stated, commending her, his hand gesturing her to sit back down. She was not foolish, however, Laura stood firm in the presence of the man who had almost killed both her and Peter just moments prior.
"Hmph," He laughed in amusement, unsurprised by her wise choice of action, "If you need proof of my intentions, look no further than both your and your Pauk's bodies," One of her emerald eyes was locked on the man while another took note of the bandages that adorned both herself and Peter, the boy still unconscious, angering her further.
"He is like that because of you," She hatefully spat at The Hunter, who had caused the condition that under her hardened exterior, worried her greatly.
"That is true, but he will be stronger because of it. As did you," Kraven waved off her words, turning his attention to the flame. The strong detection of a scent that coated both her and Peter furthered their resistance, despite the man's weapons being far away from him and leaning against a tree, all of them still in the forest they had fought in.
"What have you put on him," She demanded to know what coated both his wounds and hers, not recognizing it to be any sort of poison but The Hunter was not one to be trusted, and he-
"Yarrow balm," he answered, his words holding no lie, "The Achilles millefolium—more commonly known as yarrow is what the mythical hero Achilles used on his wounded soldiers due to its anti-inflammatory nature," Kraven informed her, speaking simply and clearly.
"Why is it not on you then?" She asked again, The Hunter free of any balm on his body which she could now detect and smell.
"Because I used all that I had on you both," Kraven answered her using the truth once more, "Like I said, the battle is over," he sincerely reiterated but she still didn't believe him. She could not believe him. The Hunter aimed to kill them, was hired by one who wanted them erased from the face of the earth, and yet he wanted her to believe that he held no ill will.
"You said you would kill us," She aggressively recalled, recalling The Hunter had promised to kill them both times.
"Yes, I did," he once again unabashedly admitted to Laura, who raised her guard immediately at this, "but I also said you have beaten me, so what will it be?" They could fight right now, but the outcome would remain the same as the last. The girl would best him, as she had done before. As he knew she should.
There was a moment of silence as their eyes met, her burning intent meeting his peaceful gaze.
She sheathed her claws.
"Now sit," The Hunter spoke like a parent scolding their child, pleased with the peace they now had, "Your body needs rest for but a couple more moments. My hunt is over, but that does not mean we are. We still have much to discuss," and with great reluctance, Laura did as she was told, sitting back down onto the large chinchilla pelt she shared with the wounded and slumbering boy who she gave the same amount of attention as she did The Hunter.
"Do anything and I…" she warned with killing intent, unafraid to end his life if she had to. She did not want to kill, she would avoid it as much as she could, but if he forced her to, if he took advantage of her vulnerable state – of Peter's – she would end him in a heartbeat.
"Believe me when I say I cannot," Kraven reassured her, the wounds she had delivered with great ferocity Peter lacked, preventing him from doing anything other than the simplest of movements without the paralyzing pain they instilled.
The crackling of fire filled the silence the two shared before The Hunter spoke up.
"Your Pauk…He is someone important to you, yes?" He stated more so than asked, taking note of how she sat close and in front of Peter, a barrier between The Hunter and The Spider.
She did not answer. He did not need her to.
"You were going to let him die with your forfeiture of life," The overbearing weight the remorse and shame brought by her choice of actions caused her to lower her gaze, her mind telling her that he would not have done the same, "But now you know why you cannot give up, why you can never surrender, not just for yourself or your dreams, but for others, for their lives now depend on yours. She remained unresponsive to his words, but he knew she was listening, her mind hearing the silent voices of those who pleaded with her to fight and stand no matter the odds or how close death was.
"His life depends on yours," Kraven shifted both their gazes onto Peter, who protected her from a mine that would have surely obliterated her legs just as it would have the forty-ton machination of steel it was designed to destroy.
Her emerald eyes softened underneath her mask.
"You are important to him, Malen'kaya L'vitsa," Kraven couldn't help but give a small smile when the cub stared at the slumbering boy once more, "My time as a Hunter has shown me the sacred value of life, I know you can relate," to reap the lives of others, to see their light be extinguished and watch a body suddenly become dead meat – everything they once were now gone, everything they could be never reached – never able to return or be reached, "Dreams, aspirations, the things this world has to offer make life great, but it is the people in it that make it worth living. The ones who spur on laughs, who make us happy with their presence alone, Blowing away all our struggles and pain that could consume hundreds of lifetimes in a matter of seconds, it is those that make this one and only life of ours truly special," Kraven The Hunter suddenly became a man who looked past the girl and at the twinkling stars above with remnants of a smile that could not be contained, "And I know it may be hard to believe but just as we care and admire and treasure someone, there is someone who does the same for us," he laughed at his sentence – at the knowledge that was still so ludicrous in his mind, "They do not see us as hunters, killers, failures or whatever else our subconsciousness may call us, instead they see us as someone to look up too – someone to cherish – to make happy because we matter that much to them."
The stars above the Russian man moved at his mind's command, forming the faces of those he held dear as the girl he sat opposite to continued to stare at Peter Benjamin Parker, eyes locked on the boy who in the small time she knew, had suddenly – alarmingly, joined the small handful of people that did what Kraven had said.
But not just that, but also standing at the forefront.
"Each person we interact with, every crime or act of kindness we do connects us in a giant web of life," The sparkle of admiration for what life had to offer that was found in The Hunter's eyes had flickered in her own, "and the more we interact with one, the stronger the connection will be, so much so that they become a part of us – live inside of us even though they may be gone," He passionately stated to Laura, who listened to every spoken word as her mind contemplated the possibilities Kraven's words brought.
Did her mother feel the same way Laura did for her? Was she important to her? Did Laura carry her as she did Logan? Did she carry her sensei? Her cousin? Peter?
Did she make her mother proud?
What about the opposite? Did Logan carry a piece of her?
She had all these questions and yet her mind was still stuck on the body lying on the snow…
"That connection—that love—it is the only thing that can fill the hole that is created from their departure from this world," he solemnly declared to the girl whose mind was stuck on one word.
Love…
She did not understand it, did not know the meaning of the word that left her riddled with so many questions.
What did it feel like? Was it good? Was it the reason for her pain?
Did her mother love her? Did she love her mother? What about her sensei or her cousin? Did they love her? Did she love them?
What about the brunette boy, whose mere image in the context of her thoughts caused her to immediately cease her contemplation?
"You are connected to him, as he is with you, and just as you do not want him to die, he feels the same for you," her emerald eyes shifted into bright glowing sapphire as she was thrust into his perspective by Kravens words, "Do you understand now, why you can never give up?" he asked Laura in a genuine voice.
Laura lowered her gaze.
They were people who needed her, who begged her to fight to save them. There were things she wanted to do, and although she did not know what most of them were, for the first time Laura Kinney knew that she wanted to live.
She wanted to live as much as she possibly could.
"Yes, I do," She sincerely answered, gazing briefly at Kraven before turning back to Peter who her life mattered to
"Good," Kraven responded with satisfaction at her answer. She had grown. She could fight masterfully without being predictable, she had the will to fight even though all was lost, she could now hear the call, and she was beginning to understand the sanctity of a life she was willing to throw away just a few moments ago.
"...He is strong, you know? Even with his body poisoned and missing an arm, I am confident he still would have bested me had his courage not gotten in the way," Admiration and consolation echoed from his voice. "He is many things. He is a Lion, a powerful protector who will rage against fate. He is a spider who fights foes stronger than he ever will be and if needed, gladly sacrifice himself for love. He is brave and he is admirable, truly a worthy foe," Laura listened in, gazing slightly averting in response to her recollection of memories that made Peter Benjamin Parker not just someone she could trust or feel safe around but someone she found endearing, in ways that were exclusive only to him.
"He will die," He staunchly declared in such a starkly contrasting voice that she stood crouched, unleashing her claws with a growl, displeased by his words.
"What do you mean?" She demanded what The Hunter had meant with blunt words that were taken as a threat, "What have you done!" She asked again in a louder voice which ordered him to elaborate less he be torn to shreds.
"I have not done anything," He replied to the girl in a cryptic voice that infuriated her, "It is he who has sentenced himself," he continued to cryptically hide the answer she failed to see.
"We celebrate heroes – those who are good – those who are kind and noble, but have you ever thought why we do this? Why good is something so cherished yet only few practice it? It is because it benefits others at the personal expense of the one who does good," he uttered in a sacred voice that gave the utmost respect, "It is why we synonymize it with the light, for instinctually since the dawn of man, light has come from fire, The preserver of life. It is what keeps us warm in the cold — what battles against the endless abyss with raging brilliance, but it does not do this for free – no – fire requires something to burn. It demands a price," He gestured at the fire, putting her gaze on the wood that cracked and burned to keep her warm, "and that price is great Malen'kaya L'vitsa – so great that it is always in our own best interests not to pay it—not to do good, for being brave puts in danger, being generous lowers us to raise another, and being honest renders us vulnerable. Every good deed we do for others fuels the fire of light, but just as wood does the same for this flame, the fire burns us—punishes us, but the brave, the selfless, the courageous, the kind, the good – the hero does so regardless for the good of all. They use their bodies as kindling to fight off the dark – to keep the world warm, all the while they suffer underneath the fury of flames that punish them for their selfless act. The fire incinerates them, demanding more and more just to keep the world warm but the hero endures, they rage, they roar, and they give more – more than they could possibly give so that others do not have to bear the unimaginable burden they do, as the servants of darkness seek to extinguish it for all eternity," He stated with a sinister undertone that slowly vanquished the respect the hunter had,
The Hunter poked at the burning pieces of wood that acted as a metaphor for the brave few who fought the good fight, "But the victory of the abyss is inevitable. Just as all things die, just as the sun that sustains us all will one day go out, so too will the light. Eventually, the eternal blanket of darkness will wash over a smoldering fire, and when the world calls for the hero to give the one thing he has left to keep the flame going, the hero does so with a smile on his face, raging against the darkness in a final act of unwavering defiance that gives light for generations. This is the fate of the hero…" he explained to Laura, whose heart dropped when her eyes followed The Hunter's gaze.
"...this is his fate," he declared to Laura, stealing her gaze with a look that gave solemn respect.
Her flat expression fell as her heart slowed at what The Hunter stated.
Peter Benjamin Parker was going to die.
"You do not know that!" she angrily yelled at The Hunter, heart rate increasing rapidly as her mind tried to frantically dismiss what he said, telling herself that he was wrong.
"There is a reason that across the ages, the saying 'good men die early, and bad men too late' has always been spoken. Look at your Pauk, a cub who has faced death's door more than most men ever will in their entire lives," he gestured at the battered and bandaged body of Peter Benjamin Parker, the mere sight proving his point, "Look at Steven Rogers. He was barely a man when he became The First, and he gave his life to save the world before he could even be considered a man in his late twenties. What about Adam Brashear who was no older than thirty when he died saving the world too, taking with him the end of the 'heroic age'?" The Hunter spoke, citing history she vaguely knew.
"When the world calls for them to fight, they will fight. And when it calls for them to die, they will die, and yes, I am aware that Steven Rogers did indeed live, but that does not take away the fact that he sacrificed it all to stop the Axis powers. It only means that he has to live with it," Kraven spoke with reverence and respect for The First Super Soldier, The Man out of Time. He had praised him, he was clearly in awe and respected him, but here, there was also sympathy and pity, his voice ending in a quiet whisper.
It was not misplaced, neither was Peter's love for The Captain, which she had learned about very quickly since his arrival.
Steve Rogers was a good man.
She owed a lot to him.
"She has killed hundreds of people, Matt," The blond-haired man roared in the face of another man who wore crimson glasses. His tone, his expression, his voice, all of it seeped in anger.
"She was forced, Steve! X-23 is just as much a victim as the people The Facility had her kill. Christ, she doesn't even have a name!" She had been in this position a hundred times before, watching on as others decided her fate, speaking about her while she was still present, paying no mind. She did not say a word, did not speak, not even for her defense because she had none in her mind.
"X-23 cannot just be let go! She has to be held accountable!" The man's name was Steven 'Steve' Rogers. Before she lived on the streets, she lived with those she called family, went to school even, pretending to live a life she could never live. She had learned about the soldier before her briefly, what was said about him were praises so high that she doubted that they were real at first. The boy from Brooklyn who had become the champion of a nation — of the world, Captain America, and here he was echoing sentiments she believed.
"And do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to do that? That they'll put her on trial, or lock her up? They're going to use her, Steve. You're handing over a weapon to S.H.I.E.L.D., and they'll use her like one!" The two men were practically spitting at each other, but she remained watching the man who wore the very flag of a country upon himself. For a moment his heart stopped when he heard the words the lawyer said. For a moment—a singular moment that the blind man could not see, the living legend's eyes broke before hardening.
He was angry. His fists were clenched, teeth biting into themselves, and stuffed his finger into the man's chest. She could hear his heart, she could feel everything going on inside him, and his heartbeat was not that of a man who was certain of his orders, if it was, he would have carted her off to those who wanted her the moment he subdued her.
"I have my orders. S.H.I.E.L.D., only brought you here because I wanted to see if she was lying. She wasn't. Now that she's confessed to all the crimes she's committed, she'll face justice," The soldier spoke a lie that neither of the two men believed in. Laura was too tired to fight. Not wanting to.
She was now seated in front of a car, bound by cuffs that could not hold her, sitting next to a soldier who could. She did not fight; she knew this was going to come eventually. Knew that this was what she deserved, her fate sealed the moment Captain America crossed the vehicle into the space of the S.H.I.E.L.D. substation.
His identity had been cleared, the gate raised, and all it would take would be a minor amount of force on the pedal under his foot, but the vehicle remained still.
"You need to understand…I have no other choice," He spoke to her in a voice that was gentle and soft. His heart was unsteady, his arms trembling so subtly that it was hard for her to even notice. He was nervous, anxious, uncertain.
"I have my orders. I have to bring you in," his voice was pained, a gentle whisper of a man who spoke more so to himself than to her. His reflection held him still, looking upon himself in the manner one would a stranger, all the while refusing to budge at his words – refusing to let him move any further.
"I can't just let you go…" he said, his voice but a quiet whisper, his hands on the wheel clenched firmly. "There are rules. I'm a soldier. This is how things are done now…I can't…" he would whisper as she watched how his reflection remained the same.
And then he turned to look at her, his blue eyes peering into her own. Concern, uncertainty, disappointment, heartbreak, resignation, acceptance, compassion, and a million other emotions being expressed within a simple gaze.
She had not thought about him much after he had let her go, mainly because the moment he sent her away with the hopes of living a good life, she immediately went on a misguided mission to put an end to the killing she caused, by putting an end to herself and Logan…but a lot has changed since then, and her knowledge about her relation to him had changed too. She thought that she only carried the legacy of Logan, The Facility, and maybe – hopefully her mother with her but…all of that began because people wanted to recreate Him. She was created, Logan was experimented on, and Peter was bitten by a modified spider because they all wanted the first weapon. The First Super Soldier.
But that weapon.
That Super Soldier…
…he was a good man.
So was Peter.
So was she.
These parts details to her compiling list of questions she needed to be answered.
"But at the rate your Pauk is going, death will come far sooner for him," The Hunter's words had her discard her thoughts about the meaning of what it was to be a weapon or super soldier aside. The matter of Peter far more pressing, "He has no discipline, he does not know how to fight, does not know how to use his own strength, does not want to because of fear. He has heart, he has power, but without skill, he will not last long even with his abilities," The Hunter stated with the utmost confidence, Laura's emerald eyes watching the slumbering boy who was heavily wounded, listening to the words imparted by Kraven. He was right, on all points, today's fight having made that blatantly clear to her how close they were to actually dying.
However, as her gaze drifted back to Peter, her eyes on his shoulder, which had a hole in it due to Kraven's spear, she turned to face him – hovering over as his most lethal wound…was uncovered…the hole he should have had…gone.
"...the wound is gone," Laura said as she hovered over Peter's body instantly, observing the lack of hole Kraven's spear should have left. He still had wounds all across his body, and his condition was still terrible but not severe…
"Mostly," Kraven replied, expanding when she returned her gaze back to him, demanding answers to her silent questions.
"The human body is a fantastic thing. When faced with death, it will do whatever it can to combat it. It floods us with adrenaline so that we are stronger and sharper than we'll ever be. Little Girls can fall into icy banks, and instead of freezing, they will enter comas to preserve oxygen, and when starving, the body will feast on itself to stay alive," Facts she already knew about were spoken by the Hunter who looked at her and smiled, "But that is the human body. And we are more than human," They were Super Soldiers.
"Steven Rogers fell into the Arctic, and instead of drowning, his body simply shut down. Putting itself in suspended animation," The Hunter laughed in awe at the feat, "Erskine's Super Soldier Serum is a work of god, and whatever Norman Osborn made. It is close, closer than anything I have ever seen," he said with awe as Laura just simply watched Peter with silent contemplation, all of his abilities having amazed her too when he first listed them off to her.
"From what I have observed, it would appear that when near death, his body will heal itself in a burst. But to what extent and what else, that remains to be seen," The Hunter stated his observations to Laura just continued to listen, "Goblins are terrifying things, and if he has this…then perhaps so too does the Hobgoblin," he spoke of another thought that added to her questions and her list of foes. The monster in orange with hellish eyes and flame, suggesting that he too had the same abilities.
Because she knew very little outside what she learned from her battle with Kraven, all she could do was agree. If Peter Benjamin Parker and Norman Osborn did indeed get their powers from the same serum… then it would stand to reason, for the most part, that they shared the same abilities, but there were other questions too.
She assumed that the spider that bit Peter was obviously affected by the serum, which had influenced his powers, but did it also diminish the effects? If one was bitten by a spider that ingested the serum while the other, presumably, drank it in its purest form, would the latter be stronger? And if said person was stronger…and The Hobgoblin, who proclaimed himself better than his predecessor the Green Goblin…was his healing factor stronger?
"If you want your Pauk to live, have him be terrifying. Show him how to fight so he is never bested. Show him how to kill, so he knows how to not," Kraven stated to her, building upon the words he spoke to the boy in their prior fight. "It is not noble to be defenseless. What is noble, is to be able to cause danger, but choose to protect instead. You are a weapon, He, a Goblin, but that is not all you both are, neither is it all you can ever be. I am a hunter, but I am also a father, a husband, a son. We all have our dark parts, each person's shadow is a form of their own, embrace it. Accept it. And use it, or else you will never be at peace," The Hunter concluded, looking at Laura who had come to believe that she herself was not a weapon. Words of Peter saying that she was more than just that, staunchly proclaiming that she wasn't, and though they caused her heart to grow lighter, Kraven's words resonated with her. She will have to think about this more later.
She remained silent, but she nodded to show she at the very least acknowledged his words. She agreed with all his points concerning Peter. He had no discipline, and he did not listen to her. Against those who knew how to fight, regardless of his powers, he would lose as shown today, and if it was a lesser man who had no honor unlike Kraven, he would have been killed long ago.
She would not allow that to happen, and she would rectify the failures of today.
She would not tolerate further failure on this matter.
She could not tolerate it.
"You must promise to yourself, to the Pauk, and any who will count on you, that you will never surrender again," Kraven said as he stood up, his expression pained for but a moment as his body was worn and beaten, the mere act of standing a challenge, yet his voice remained steady and firm.
"I promise," she replied, her brief response earnest and true. She would not surrender again.
"Good," Kraven smiled at her as he slowly retrieved his weapons. "You two are but young cubs with much life ahead. Grow. Live. Be the best you can be, so that when Kraven The Hunter comes back, he will have an even better hunt than he did so today," He declared with a confident smile that looked forward at the potential both she and Peter had.
"The girl," Laura stated bluntly, not forgetting that both she and Peter had gone through this entire fight, to save the foolish girl who displayed her powers in the middle of a mall.
"I've already made the call to the authorities," Kraven huffed at her in amusement as he turned his back to her, the police having been contacted after he had tended to the two cubs before him, "Until we meet again, Malen'kaya L'vitsa," Kraven The Hunter bid farewell, leaving the two teens together. All his traps had been collected, his weapons on him, and with his desire for a hunt satiated, the man would leave for another worthy foe.
"And one more thing," He stopped, Laura, gazing at his back as quickly as he said the words, awaiting what would follow, "If it is of any help to you…When The great doctor was about to make history with Steven Rogers, his words spoken were that of a man who did not believe that his advancement would contribute to death…but the advancement of humanity. And we are a part of that legacy," The Hunter whose trials and hunt left her stronger and more knowledgeable finished, leaving the girl forged to be a weapon with a lot more to ponder.
"What's the situation," The whole block was closed off, police, transport, and emergency vehicles crowding the streets. Police Chief Jean DeWolff stood in the basement of a restaurant, an unsuspecting store, just one of many on the block but its darkest depths revealed that it was no more than a cover. An anonymous phone call they received an hour ago about this place, uncovering the truth that it contained super-powered children subdued in cuffs and masks, waiting to be shipped off and trafficked offseas right under the noses of people who came to dine.
"'bout as terrible as it smells an' looks," Powerman said with disgust, the flashing of cameras accompanying his voice as the hero for hire and a squad of officers were standing in the midst of a blood bath. Bodies littered everywhere, dismembered or bled out dry, those who lived—the handful—in critical condition. "Ain't no one who had coming was hurt but…I don't think anyone deserves this," Luke muttered with sympathy, wanting to show respect and at the very least close the eyes of the dead – show some decency, but…procedure came first.
"Since the kids weren't hurt it wasn't the Maggia or any rival gangs," He stated to the chief, who instantly understood what he was implying. This was the work of a vigilante.
"You think it's the same guy who laid siege on that Park Avenue drug ring two days ago?" She asked, Luke's skills, knowledge, and abilities had quickly made him more than just muscle.
"No, an' I can say that 'cause at the very least there were some people left livin' today," Luke shook his head, sharing his opinion, "With him, it looked liked it rained bullets and bodies whoever did this here used a blade of some sort or claws, an' looks like he doesn't need no bulletproof vest either," he gestured at all the bullets on the ground before them, all of them dented and flattened, having hit their target, but strangely, they were no bodies here who died of gunshot wounds, which he could only assume was that whoever did this today had regenerative capabilities since blood coated all the rounds.
"Claws and bulletproof," The chief muttered, drawing the same conclusion he initially did.
"It ain't Talon," Luke said to her, "I may not like him very much, but Spider-Man has never killed before, an' neither has his new partner, considering all the fools she's put in the hospital. She also has two claws. These guys are marked with three," Luke gestured at the multiple claw marks that indeed left three slashes, the dismembered limbs were also severed in three's too. Since her appearance, Talon has never killed, and although she shared Luke's sentiments about the two, even she had to admit that Spider-Man and Talon were not involved in this.
"So another vigilante is taking the law into their own hands, mucking everything up – again," The woman sighed and rubbed her forehead, exasperated. Powerman remained silent, thinking more positively about vigilantes than the chief considering he too understood where they were coming from.
And if he hadn't made it clear already, he wasn't too fond of law enforcement.
He walked out of the basement, having given the full of his findings to another officer before the chief's arrival. He can't say he agreed with killing, but he also couldn't say that he had much sympathy for people who targeted children.
The hero for hire stood still as he watched faceless soldiers in blue armor, advanced weapons that flooded the streets in their hands. Indistinct radio chatter was spoken amongst the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who made up the Super Human Response division. The children who were trafficked were tended to, of course, but not before they exchanged their damaged and broken cuffs and collars which dampened their powers for that of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. The sight in itself was something that irked his insides.
"Why are they here? I thought they only came to collect guys like The Wrecker." Luke asked DeWolff, confused and worried.
"It's called a 'Super Human Response Division.' Not a 'Super Criminal Response Division,' Cage," DeWolff stated, her words only irking the man more.
"Doesn't explain why they're in cuffs. They ain't do nothin' wrong," Luke asked her, pressing the matter further.
"It's for their safety," The Chief responded as she was in the process of communicating with another one of her officers.
"Don't give me that bull. It's for your safety not theirs," he snapped at her, disgusted at the sight, "They're kids."
"Kids who could level a city block. Once they've been identified, the parents will be contacted and able to see them once they are put up in some facility somewhere upstate where they can be supervised," Jean explained, her attempt to ease Powerman down only making him scowl more.
"So a prison?" Luke assumed with clenched fists as he watched the children who had just been abducted, lining up to enter a transport vehicle, so they could be brought somewhere else when all they probably wanted was to just be able to go home. "Where's the due process the fifth and fourteenth give?" he asked the chief who remained silent.
"That is for persons. Whether that includes mutates…remains to be seen," Her words were forced, the implications, the sheer weight settling in on the two….
"Look, I don't like it either!" The Chief snapped, turning her full attention on the man, "But the law's the law, alright? You super-types might not be able to see the damage you cause but everyone else does, and for the time being, this is how things are until the people up in government come up with a decision, some kind of plan or resource to deal with…this new 'heroic age', of ours," The chief used that term with great hesitancy out of a sheer dislike at calling masked vigilante's heroes.
It was thrown around a lot as of late, a resurgence of those with powers and gifts, but far greater than that of the previous age with Blue Marvel after the Second World War.
Instead of one out of a hundred thousand, it was beginning to feel like it was one out of a hundred now…and unlike the previous time where those with powers beyond anything people could imagine slowly faded away or died out, something at the back of not just her mind, but everyone else's, could feel that this…was only the beginning.
"The world's changing, Cage. Just be glad you're on our side," DeWolff said as she pushed all those worries away to focus on the insurmountable worries she already had in trying to stop, topple, expose, and arrest Wilson Fisk, who on top of being a crime lord, and was in touch with politicians to super villains, was also incredibly rich.
"I didn't know there were sides," Luke muttered as he shook his head and continued surveying the crime scene.
"There is, and a paycheck too," She reminded the hero for hire whose eyes remained locked on the children, his gut screaming at him. "Now let's get back to it," She said, wanting to continue the duties they had on sight.
Luke remained silent but shook his head, there was a paycheck, and people to help. His gaze returned back to the crime scene before a thought popping in his head, "The call said there were eight children. I only count seven."
Not too far from the crime scene, a man whose 5'3 stature had more muscle than it did height walked silently, his wife beater stained with blood. He didn't know what the F%& he was doing. He didn't even know why he felt compelled to do it, but worst of all, he didn't expect that out of the bunch he had saved, one would be a mutant. An asian girl who couldn't listen to a damn thing he said, who knew what he did and saw it with her own eyes.
And when it came to mutants, he had to bring them home.
To the Xavier Institute of Gifted Youngers.
&%$.
"Oh, Steve you are such a dear, You didn't have to do all this," the joyous voice of May Parker spoke with gratitude as she unlatched her harm from the six-two mountain of pure muscle that was Steve 'Buchanan Hammond'. The gentleman with a blond curl that bobbed with every movement had taken the woman home, his bike idling just on the curb.
"Nonsense. It was the least I could do for all that you've done today," The soldier shook his head as he returned his hands to the pockets of his vintage jacket. His voice was unshakable, steady, and slow, every word spoken intentional and strong but earnest.
"That was all just basic procedure," May Parker waved him off, laughing slightly with a smile on her face. She was the supervisor at the F.E.A.S.T shelter, in charge of looking after the facility, its people, and training those who would commit their free time to help those in greater need. "Besides, you and Janet were standouts. I doubt my help was even needed with how easily you two seemed to get into the swing of things." She returned the man's sincere words with her own, both Steve and the woman who was with him, having blown her away with how quickly they picked up on what they had to do and what they could do.
The F.E.A.S.T. shelter provided a multitude of necessities to those who needed them, food, emergency care, aid for whatever affliction, shelter, and training to get people back in society. Steve was a soldier, the young man who was only twenty-six, carried himself with experience and knowledge that his quiet demeanor reflected perfectly.
"We just try and do our best. As you do," Steve shook his head, a breath escaping from an amused huff, "My basic procedure is to repay a helping with another, and I would like to know that the woman who gives so much, for her sake and her nephews, gets to return home safely." The man had even gone and grabbed her mail for her as she reached into her purse to grab her keys.
May laughed softly, complemented and flattered, a brimming smile on her face as she worked on unlocking her door, "Well, you and Janet do your best fantastically. We'll be seeing you two again, right?" The lady raised a brow, wanting the duo, The Soldier and The Fashion Designer to be mainstays at the shelter, unlike many volunteers.
"I can't speak for Janet, but you can count on me, May," Steve said with promise and warmth "Helping people is…just my basic procedure, and today reminded me of that," his voice turned soft, his eyes bright and blue showing the truth every word had.
"I'm willing to wager that she won't be too far behind you, young man," May said offhandedly as she managed to open her front door, taking her mail from Steve's hands as the man tilted his head subtly, "But if she isn't, please tell her I hope to see her again. She was very kind on letting you take me home," May spoke and thought highly of the woman who kindly allowed her to don her smiling bee helm and let Steve take her home. "I'll make sure to tell Peter of all the good you two did today, and I hope you both have a good night."
"I'm certain Janet already knows that, but I'll be sure to pass it on. Tell 'the big guy' he has my thanks, and have a good night yourself, May," Steve returned parting words of his own before making moves away from the Parker household, stepping off the porch once the door to the home had been closed. His jacket rustled with his movements, his expression gentle as he contemplated quietly within his own mind. The day had been great…and though he was just a tad bit disappointed that the brunette boy from Queens who gave him this opportunity could not be there, he was grateful. To be there with those who had nothing, it was something he needed. His resolve for the next course of action stronger.
It wouldn't even take two steps off the Parker household's porch that the movement of his jacket was something he could no longer ignore. It was a summer night, slightly cold but no winds to cause such movement, and even if there were, it wouldn't explain why it was only in his left breast pocket. Something in it was moving around, bumping across the corners, trapped in the fabric, trying to escape like a bird in a cage. The Soldier smiled, a more mischievous and almost amused expression, his footsteps halted to make it easier, and not a single second later did the thing that was trapped in his pocket break free.
No, it was not a fly nor some unfortunate insect that had found itself trapped in the confines of a jacket, but a woman, her short brown hair and bright blue eyes that belonged to her delicate face burning holes in him.
"You know, Cap, I would think a guy from the forties would know how to treat a lady well, but you just stuff me in your pocket so that you can give sweet old Mrs. Parker a ride home," and suddenly the guise of Steve 'Buchanan Hammond,' an identity he had come up on the fly in truth, was shattered as a petite woman the size of a wasp, and with the wings as such fluttering behind her back flew right into the center of his gaze.
His real name was Steven 'Steve' Rogers. He did not need an explanation, the man was taught about in grade school to university. He even had a statue under lucky Lady Liberty herself.
The woman who flew to front of his gaze was Janet Van Dyne-Pym, and with her renowned family history, her brands, and celebrity status, she also did not need an introduction. Her voice was fast and lively, exuberant and expressive, speaking her thoughts the moment they arrived.
"It was a very sweet, and very you thing to do," The woman said warmly, a smile forming on her glistening lips against her will, her arms crossing against her dainty figure, and over her bright yellow shoulderless blouse.
"It was nothing, Jan," Steve, who is unable to take a compliment, Rogers waved off as he resumed his stride to his bike, "You could have returned back to the mansion once our shift was over though. You didn't have to stay in my pocket," his amusement showed as the pixie flew around him with each step he took, the final circle she took ending with the shrunken woman returning to her actual height which was still small compared to his own, but almost everyone was short compared to Steve Rogers.
She stood at about 5'4, her black purse swaying around her shoulder along with her black skirt as she faced him. Her upper body was leaned forward, her figure taking up all his focus intentionally as she held her hands behind her back, her back steps matching his own.
"Maybe I wanted to. Maybe I'd rather be in your pocket than go back to the mansion, thought 'bout that, Soldier-Boy?" she countered playfully as they drew closer to his motorcycle. Her smile was as noticeable as her half-lidded eyes, the woman was always a flirt, amusing Steve who always took it as playful considering she was married.
"I do love sweets," Janet said as she flashed a lifesaver she snagged from his pocket, winking at him as she placed it in her mouth. "You're old for this by the way. I've only ever had these when I visited my Grandma," a laugh was followed by her words as Steve rolled his eyes.
"She had good taste," Steve retorted as he reached into his pocket to grab a mint.
Only to find nothing.
"She did. Runs in the family," Janet replied with a smug smile that was met with an unamused look from Steve, her laugh retaliating to his hum. "It's cute. I remember her telling me how in the Second World War, they rationed sugar so that they could make more of these for you guys. It's why she never knew what candy was until she was eleven," it was a fine line with her for Steve at almost everything, her voice both teasing but sincere, her actions leaning towards the latter most of the time, as her hand came from her back and unfurled, revealing and offering Steve the last of his mints which he took. Their hands touching for but a moment.
"If you see her again, can you tell Mrs. Hart-Van Dyne that I apologize?" Steve replied, his gaze on the wrapper he was undoing.
"I think you made up for it," Janet laughed lightly, not ignoring the fact that he remembered the name of her grandmother from a conversation she couldn't even remember how long ago it was now.
"Do they still taste like home?" she inquired with subtle sincerity under her teasing tone as she took a spot beside the man. That was the point as to why they rationed for lifesavers, so soldiers could remember home.
"I'm not quite sure I know what home is now, Jan," Steve's words came from his heart as he chewed on the mint that once reminded him of a clear picture. His words were forlorn. Janet's expression fell. Once upon a time, home was just simply a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, he called 'Ma', after that you could suppose an orphanage would follow, but now there was war. No singular place, nor battlefield, just the sounds of gunfire, of men dying and fighting, in a war which to him was still going on mere months ago. Now he didn't really know what home was, and as he chewed the 20th century and the 21st clashed, the peppermint that remained exactly the same, a comfort in a world that had changed so much. Without him, "But I am grateful to still know what it is like to have friends and those that are dearly special to me," he spoke up in a lighter voice as he smiled at the woman, her expression lifting up, a small blush her make up covered warming her cheeks.
"I appreciate you coming with me on this, Janet," Steve said wholeheartedly as he looked at her warmly, "I didn't expect you to wanna partake in this."
"And why's that Soldier-Boy? Too much of a 'Deb' for you? A 'grande dame' maybe?" The spunky woman teased with phrases and terms from his time, her expression changing to that of a sophisticated aristocrat too good to even stand on their feet.
"I thought you would rather be with Hank or go to that party Tony invited you to instead of spending a day volunteering at a shelter," Steve answered with ease, genuinely surprised that she offered to come with him when she asked him where he was going earlier in the day. Janet Van Dyne-Pym was many things, a superhero, a fellow Avenger, a married woman in her mid-twenties, and an aristocrat worth millions, born into a family of wealth. She was carefree. She enjoyed good times and had a good heart that had his respect but she, like Anthony Edward 'Tony' Stark, had her sights on much grander things.
"Well, you thought wrong," She scowled and crossed her arms, looking away from him with her chin up, her voice soured, her response instant, "and you make me sound like a snob," she said with annoyance as she returned her gaze back to him, looking at the man who dwarfed from down her nose.
"I'm sorry, Janet," Steve spoke earnestly as he saw the twinge of hurt in her eye, bowing his head, "I didn't mean to insinuate anything hurtful, you just surprised me, that's all," He apologized softly.
"That's not a hard thing to do," She snapped with a pout, "unlike staying mad at you which I wish I could do," she gave in to his earnestness against her will, her voice softer, "I got myself all dressed up for you, I'll have you know" her voice grew playful as she tilted her head. She had somewhat of a height advantage now that he sat down on his bike.
"And you wear it well, Jan," Steve spoke up as he looked at her and complimented her attire, "I think it's the only reason we got away with blending in with the people back there," The man said as his words lifted her mood more, the man in every history book and the woman who was always on every camera having blended in seamlessly.
"I do, don't I?" the woman asked in a much lighter tone as she smiled at the man, spinning around in her yellow blouse and black skirt, all of it, much like her shoes and choker made of the finest materials. Her eyes fluttered half-lidded, the makeup and eye shadow she wore coming together perfectly but all she got in return was an amused huff and shake from his head as the man returned his gaze to one of his mirrors, remaining respectful. "You think I'd make lucky nose art, Captain?" she teased in a low but playful voice, the man reacting loudly with his silence as he raised both his brows and held in a chuckle.
"You already make a married man lucky, so I would assume so," Steve complimented her once more, however, his words seemed to have soured her again.
"'Lucky,'" she muttered under her breath, earning Steve's attention, his super soldier hearing having picked up the mutter as clear as day, "I'm lucky too," She instantly corrected herself with a minor sputter, reverting back to her playfulness quickly as she posed right in front of him, her hip swayed and hand resting on it.
"All of these are prototypes for a new line since the last one sold out. Made them all by my lonesome," Her expression instantly lifted as she grew energetic, Steve responding how a gentleman would and looking away subtly, his gaze on the mirrors of his motorcycle, "What do you think? Really? I haven't gotten any input," her eyes and tone belied the confidence her pose displayed.
"They are…beautiful…as always," Steve spoke carefully and with hesitation as their eyes met once more, the man observing the finer details of her clothes and only her clothes, "You are…good at what you do, Janet. Even someone like me who doesn't really understand the appeal of high fashion can see the effort you put in," his true thoughts were spoken, conveyed through warm words. She wasn't surprised by his sentiments, anyone who knew Steve Rogers at a face level – which was basically everyone considering he was a global treasure that saved the world, would know that the man who was born poor and sick was not one for excess. She was touched though, incredibly as shown by her smile.
"Thank you," she returned to standing face forward to Steve, "I'll make sure to quote you when I'm on the cover of next month's Vogue," she spoke softly, but still subtly teasing.
"Hmmm," Steve hummed in response, his mind elsewhere as he handed Janet her smiling bee helmet.
"I have a photoshoot next week for it. You can come with, if you want, star spangles n'all. I'll wear the flag to match," She said as she put the helmet on and sat behind him.
"Thank you, but I'll decline that offer. I'm not ready to be on the cover of Vogue magazine," Steve said with amusement as he put on his helmet before looking back at her, "Ready to go?" He asked her, not wanting to spend another moment longer and risk having May look out her window and see the woman who was supposed to be on the subway at this very moment given she let May take her spot so Steve could drive her home.
Janet nodded as she warped her hands around Steve and leaned against him, "And why's that Soldier-Boy? Don't tell me the cover of a magazine is too much for the guy 'who waked the giant that napped in America,'" she taunted and poked playfully, peering at him from the mirror with a smirk on her face. "Or do you only do war bonds with natural blondes?" her words had no bite in them nor did Steve take offense to them, but he did react with a slight hue on his cheeks. The thing with fashion was that it was influenced by societal change so Janet herself was also an expert on history, privy to all the wartime efforts that were now no longer common knowledge.
Much to Steve's expense.
"I've just had my fill," Steve replied, embarrassed while Janet laughed, "And that was someone else…in another time…" He corrected as he knew exactly what she was referencing. She only giggled more. Yes, she did know, that all the musicals and movies about Captain America were all from actors, the real one having fought on the frontlines. The man in front of her having led the charge on the battle for Normandy, fighting and bleeding with allied forces, standing side by side with even Soviet soldiers for it was Captain America and 322nd Rifle Division of the 1st Ukrainian Front that freed the 7,000 survivors of the Auschwitz concentration camp.
But it was still funny, just as much as it was amazing, to be here with the man who punched out the Red Skull and watch him blush.
"Someone else who was just doing their part," Steve corrected himself as he praised the actor whose efforts to sell war bonds aided in the war.
"...you know…I really liked today," The teasing woman who sat behind him muttered as she tightened her hold around him, her body leaning more into his back, a sense of exhaustion that stood out to Steve.
"I did too," Steve replied as the roar of his motorcycle and the sounds of traffic filled the silence, "When I get you back to the mansion, maybe I could book us for a shift tomorrow," Steve suggested as Janet hummed.
"I'd like that," She replied as she lightly traced the folds of his jacket so he wouldn't notice, "But you're talking like you aren't coming back with me. Makes me wonder what you're going to be doing later at this hour?" she teased.
Steve hummed slowly. He did have plans. He had a mission, and targets, but first and foremost he had a duty, a responsibility. This was something he had to do, despite the risks, a mission that could get him in trouble if he were caught. And if he were to get caught, then his actions from before would be called into question, and he did not know what that would entail. He certainly did not want Janet to get involved so he simply hummed and nodded. The less she knew, the better. He had already done everything he could to cover his tracks.
"What if I don't want to go back yet?" she asked in a whisper, half a tease, "What are you gonna do, Soldier-Boy?" She asked him as she held him as tightly as she possibly could, Steve furrowing his brow.
"Janet," Steve spoke, his voice growing firmer as he looked at her from over his shoulder as he drove, his brow furrowed. However funny her teases and jokes were, this was not something he could allow her to get in the way of, yet when he looked back, all he could see was a sort of pleading from her gaze.
"Is…everything all right, Janet?" his voice grew softer, his expression gentler, concern filling every syllable spoken.
"You go first," The woman replied as she rested her head on his back.
Steve contemplated her words, multiple expressions crossing his face before he spoke up as they idly drove into the city, leaving the borough of Queens behind. He could lie, he could have said that nothing was wrong, probably should have since the following words would only indict him but…
"I don't…want to seem ungrateful. Both the Avengers and SHIELD have done a lot getting me back into this world full of…gods and things I thought could only exist in some science fiction movie. And I love being an Avenger… but now that…I understand the world more than I did before…I don't agree with…how we do things," Steve said softly, Janet not surprised. "And I get that our hands are tied, that there is procedure, jurisdiction, who can act where and who cannot, but the thing is Jan, I don't care anymore," His voice grew resolved. He was set. His uncertainty being replaced by confidence that Janet herself could feel, "If people are in need of help, I will be there."
"So you're gonna saddle up cowboy style? Fight crime? Is that what I'm hearing, Soldier-Boy?" Janet asked amused as she traced the wrinkles on his jacket, "Go behind enemy lines and save the day like it's the 1940s?" she spoke with soft chides as she pulled away to look at him from his mirror.
"That's how the Avengers were at first. A mansion, a mission, and a team but …reality has other ideas, and soon enough now you're a part of the Government," Janet spoke with longing in her eyes, Steve remaining silent as when they found him, it was well after the Government had involved themselves with the Avengers, "It's not the 1940's anymore, Steve. There has to be regulations," She spoke with concern as she looked at him, "There's bad guys left and right, with people finding powers they never thought having every single day. People are scared, they need to know that there are those who are willing to follow the laws, who have their best interest in mind, who are accountable to someone," She rationalized to Steve who remained firm as he kept his gaze on the road ahead.
"That's the thing, Janet, how can any of us say we have their best interests in mind when there's a war happening right under our noses and we're doing nothing," Steve countered with frustration towards the world in his voice, "If we can't say what we're doing is for the best interest of the people, then whose interests are we working for?" his voice grew quieter as he took a deep breath. "And if there are laws in place that are meant to stop us from working in the people's interests, then maybe they shouldn't be followed, to begin with."
"Is that why you stopped working with S.H.I.E.L.D.? What happened on that last mission they had you do?" Janet asked with concern. She didn't know much since it was 'classified,' but she was a peeper who could shrink her size. She knew that he had done a mission about capturing a target, did it well even, but also knew from the earful the man received, that he had also failed, that whoever it was he was sent to capture, had gotten away.
"I was supposed to arrest a girl who never knew what freedom was for the sake of justice," Steve told her honestly, not caring about classification or anything. She was an Avenger, and more importantly a friend, and just as how he could hear the pain inflection that underlined some of her words, she could hear the disappointment in his own. "But that's not justice. That's oppression."
"You let her go, didn't you?" Janet knew him, she had seen the super soldier in action many times. He was able to lift tons, move as fast as cars, his skills and heart made him hit far above his weight class, but most importantly, she knew him.
Steve remained silent, his mind drifting back to that bus station where he stood with the girl with raven locks and emerald eyes, ghosts following her every move as they did his…
"Why are you doing this? I do not understand," X-23 asked Steve Rogers who stood with her, a bus that would take her from Washington to New York beside them, passengers boarding it.
"Neither do I," Steve spoke, his hands in his jacket's pockets, his gaze forlorn. He had committed treason, she was wanted by the powers of his home yet he stood with her, even retrieving the money she had made from events no girl her age should have experienced, "Do you know who I am?" he asked her softly.
She nodded, vaguely knowledgeable of who stood before her, bested her, and now, helped her.
"My ma's name was Sarah too…and when…bad things happened, she would read to me like how your mother did," he said, the man who spoke every word with a reason for once, just blurted out softly, "I made a mistake. Multiple," he admitted to her softly, the girl listening to his every word.
There was a shared vulnerability between the two. Neither of their eyes were focused, the inner corners of their brows drawn up, both of them lost soldiers.
"You told me that on one of your missions, your target was a boy but you didn't kill him. I didn't ask you why?" He asked her, his gaze gentle, wanting to know why the girl in front of him who was created to be a weapon, did not follow through with her orders.
"...because it was…wrong," Her voice answered, giving way to uncertainty and doubt in herself and her actions.
"...Maybe that's why I'm doing all of this…because turning you in is wrong too," Steve replied softly, a part of him growing stronger in his choice of actions upon hearing her words, "...The world's different…and I thought that what's right and what's wrong was still the same but that's changed too and I didn't wanna believe, and for that, I am sorry," he apologized for his harsh words and actions towards her, "If I take you in now…new people will use you the same way The Facility did, and I can't let that happen. Not again," The Super Soldier proclaimed, gently bending down to her level, his hands on X-23's shoulders, the girl not moving them away.
"I don't know if you can build a normal life after what you've been through, but I've got to let you try," His words were sincere, his doubts yielding to what he thought was right. "You said you were finding the one responsible for all of this before I intercepted you. What do you plan on doing?" she could feel the concern he had for her and others.
"To put an end to the killing," She answered him softly.
"Do you need help?" The man offered her his hand and shield, knowing exactly what she meant.
She shook her head, "This is something I must do alone."
"I understand. But you don't have to, you know?" Steve replied, his hands falling down and resting on his knee. The girl did not respond.
He huffed in amusement.
The bus next to them was getting ready to depart, and the people who once gathered were now inside and waiting.
"Take care of yourself… Pinocchio," he wished her the best, his voice still gentle and somber but attempting to lighten up the mood a bit by calling her by a nickname instead of her designation. Choosing to call her by the name of her favorite story.
"Thank…you," X-23 responded with a nod, her reaction to the nickname little to non-existent, but gratitude infested her every word. She did not lie to him before, and she was not lying to him now. His doubts about her continuing to be proven wrong while all his other concerns not relating her grew.
As she made moves to board the bus, she would stop halfway and turn her gaze back to him, a lingerie question in her mind.
"What was…your favorite story?" She asked him hesitantly, Steve taken a back - surprised by the earnest question before smiling softly.
"Peter Pan and Wendy," The Man out of Time stated to her instantly.
She would take a moment, muttering the words back, before boarding the bus. The last time the soldier saw her was when he was waving her off with a smile which she reciprocated subtly.
"I did. It was an act of treason, but I did so anyway," Steve confirmed Janet's suspicions which had a smile growing on her face, though subtle and burdened.
"I wasn't sure of my choice then, but I am now. A soldier may have his orders, but every man has a responsibility to do what is right. and once I drop you off at the mansion that is exactly what I intend on doing," Steve declared to her with unwavering resolve. A girl he would not forget had forced him to confront that of which he did not want to, and a boy had shown him the way to respond.
Janet simply smiled.
"You?" Steve asked her now as it was her turn to tell him what was wrong.
"Crossed my fingers," The woman said in a whisper as she raised a hand in front of his face showing the crossing, laughing as she bopped him on the nose, "You really are a man out of time, Soldier-Boy," She teased as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against him completely, idly playing with the lapels on his jacket.
"Janet…" He said with a furrowed brow yet gentle and reprimanding tone.
"Hopeless as well," she continued, ignoring his words, "'Jarvis, give me a list of all known and suspected peoples and properties that are connected to this ongoing crime wave. Jarvis, how do I turn off the tracking on my Avengers ID card? Jarvis, forget this conversation,'" she teased more, the man surprised, his bright blue eyes widening, "See…if you want to delete something permanently…make sure no one can see what Jarvis does… you gotta go into his logs at the main computer at base but you're too much of an oldie for that, Stevie," she chuckled in amusement, her voice quiet but gentle, layered with warmth.
"But a goldie too." she muttered with affection as she looked at him with an amused but determined expression, "I'm in, and you can't say otherwise 'cause who are you gonna tell on?" she playfully challenged him.
Steve responded by sharply turning into an alleyway, his tires screeching to a halt. Janet's tight hold on him quickly became loose as she leaned back and met his firm gaze with a wide smirk, "I can't ask you to help me with this, Janet," Steve declared passionately, "You have a career, Hank, his career – a life. You have things to lose if we get caught, I don't," The man out of time stated firmly to the woman who raised a brow and crossed her arms.
"You don't have to ask, it's called volunteering. I thought you'd be an expert on that since no one asks you to do anything yet you still do it," She poked her finger into his chest, her expression and tone completely smug, "...besides I can turn microscopic. The only one getting caught will be you, Soldier-boy. Hope you brought something before you cowboy up because I didn't see any star spangles or shield in here," she patted the bag on his bike as she got off his bike with a little jump.
"I thought it would be better to leave Captain America at the mansion," He spoke up, still clearly concerned about her, but contemplating her decision he knew he could not sway. "I also thought you were arguing against my point."
"It's called Devil's Advocate. I only wanted to see if God's righteous man had answers," Janet replied as she instantly shrunk and flew in front of him, amused. The Captain looked at her, his hesitation escaping with a sigh, his body relaxing, a smile forming.
"We all look for answers don't we?" The man out of time, out of place with nowhere to really call home asked softly, his voice somber, his eyes gentle, "If it's one I've found that helped me, it's that with great power comes great responsibility."
"Really?" Janet scoffed, her tone just as gentle but also undeniably amused, "Who taught you that one? Your grandma?"
"Actually, it was Mrs. Parker's late husband by way of her young nephew," Steve countered with a subtle smirk.
"Getting hip with the youth, Soldier-Boy?" She joked, lifting her fingers under her chin to feign contemplation, "It's not bad…absolutely corny so I can see why you of all people would listen to it but…something I can see myself remembering," Janet spoke, ingraining the words somewhere within her mind, "I personally believe that a guy – who's too good for his own good, who can't even use a computer properly is gonna need some help if he wants to punch bad guys and get away with it. Who knows? You might find yourself in another iceberg and we wouldn't want that now would we?" she teased again, her index finger pressing his nose in.
"No," Steve shook his head, his voice a quiet and amused whisper, "I've had my fill of that too."
"So what's the plan?" Wasp asked the man who always had a plan, watching as he stood up from his bike and reached into his right breast pocket.
"The first rule of war is to know your enemy. We only have a name, 'The Kingpin,' but I've gathered a list of suspected places and people tied to his operation. They could be drug manufacturers to human traffickers, your regular thugs to the hired assassin, whatever it is, we shut them down." He stated firmly, his soldier voice and battle-hardened exterior coming out as he pulled out a pair of black gloves, "We help those who need us, we find out what we need to know, and we move on to the next until the sun starts shining," he finished explaining what they would be doing.
"You know this is a large operation right?" The woman who did her homework too inquired, "There's gonna be a lot of people to run at and beat up, even for you," She continued pestering Steve, her words serious however.
"Then it's best we get started as soon as possible," Steve replied with ease, confidence in himself and the mission, a slight edge of amusement in his voice as he subtly smiled at her before a balaclava was pulled from his jacket.
"And if anyone asks what we're doing, Soldier-Boy? Which they will?" Janet inquired, amused by the effort to disguise himself. She would have to make a more appealing costume and identity for him and herself tomorrow.
"We say we're volunteering," Steve stated confidently, the alibi of volunteering should be enough, granted however, he was not as concerned about getting caught as he was with helping those who needed him, "You can back out and I won't think any less of you, Janet."
Janet scoffed, "But I will. I'm only going one place, Soldier-Boy and that's where you're going and if you try and get rid of me one more time I'm going to sting you for all the times you've been trying to get rid of me," She warned him with threats that she would never follow.
"Fine, I'll stop," He yielded to her, "You ready…Tinkerbell?" he asked her with a subtle teasing edge.
"Tinkerbell?" She reiterated with mock offense, bringing a hand to her heart, holding in a laugh, "I'd watch what you say as someone who could be called 'The Leader of the Lost Boys' with how hopeless it is for you to get with the times," She laughed wholeheartedly as she flew around the soldier who huffed, unable to bite back the smile despite his well-trained stoicism.
"I mean really? You were planning on going to war with just that? not even your mighty shield?" Janet continued poking fun at Steve who shook his head.
"Originally, yes," The man who now looked like a thug with his stature and balaclava nodded, "But now I guess I'm going to war with you," Steve finished with a smile before hardening once more.
"Let's do this. Together."
Chapter 22: Cultivation
Merry Christmas.
Life happened. Interested changed. School bent me over and killed all my interests and league of legends is my drug. Marvel Rivals brought me back. I don't know if I should apologize but I will. I'm really grateful for reviews - I have to look at them because I knew they would have me feel obligated to get me back and also that it would reignite my desire too.
Theres this writing thing called Checkov's Gun. Everything I do or did or will in this has and always will be important. I have this huge doc where I wanted this arc to go out lining all the character arcs for everyone. Everything that happens I intend to be for the growth of Peter or how he grows others, or how those he helps, helps others.
Chapter 23 is coming because thats a fun one, we'll see from there. I do enjoy this.
REview, write, pm me, im looking on that account again. Fuck, this is both a good and bad feeling in a sense that I prolly shouldnt have stopped but glad im back for the mean time. I do like this.
and yes, I do main cap in rivals. Im diamond 2 peak rn.