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Part 2 of What if... Natasha recruited Spider-man?
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BAMF Peter Parker, fics with varying amount of spidermom
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Published:
2021-03-07
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2021-03-26
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27,512
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8/8
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Pose as a friend, work as a spy

Summary:

Up close she can feel relief run through her body as the sight of Peter’s chest moving. She can hear strained breaths, that seems almost slow and sluggish. But their there. That’s a good thing. Even if it seems like his body is fighting for every breath.

She knows, in a battlefield, there isn’t a lot of time to work with. She knows she should run.

She doesn’t right away. Natasha places to fingers securely against Peter’s neck. Just below the back of his jar, feeling for the small beet that indicates his pules, in the carotid artery.

If she thought the breathing was bad, the whole, pules thing is even worse. It’s flickering under her fingers, inhumanly slow, almost nonexistent. And Natasha can only hope it’s due to his mutation. That this isn’t some hidden injury somewhere under his science pun t-shirt.

***

In a world where Natasha recruits Peter Parker instead of Tony, Peter meets the team onboard the so called 'bus' on his way to Berlin in Germany. That's... bound to be interesting? It's also bound to go horribly wrong.

Notes:

A small thanks to Bbblaney77 who has helped me, plan the outline for this story :)

Soooo... I started watching agents of shield in december, and I'm like only two seasons in at this point in time. But I got the idea for this story, and was like, yes, that's what we're doing. So... Technically, it takes place during early season 2. So, the main part of whole the hydra thing has happened, but in this version, things has played out a little differently. And so, Grant Ward was never revealed to be a hydra agent in this alternate universe. Skye, doesn't have her powers yet, and Fitz where never in that accident that left his brain broken, and Simmons never left to go undercover with hydra. But the hydra thing, did still happen.
Also, Peter is aged up to 17. While Skye is aged down to 19.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Flying or falling, it’s up to you

Chapter Text

Natasha tightens the grip around the steering, doing everything in her power to make sure the quinjet stay on course. The wind and turbulence is making it hard, and as the plane shakes, she can sense Peter getting more and more panicked.

There’s really - and Natasha means that - nothing to be scared of. But can she really blame the… kid? Kid works. She isn’t all that much into nicknames, but nayk and kid works.

She watches out of the corner of her eye as is Peter once again switching position. Now pushing her weight onto his feet, head and torso leaned over, hands over his neck. His skin pale and sweaty. And Natasha has to curse herself, that she didn’t think of bring a bucket for him to throw up in should it be needed. The kid’s parents died in a plane crash after all. This, this all made sense.

“You know” Natasha nodes him with her foot, but doesn’t take her eyes from the sky in front of them, “It’s easier to get through if you look outside”. She has always loved watching the sun shinning down on the puffy white clouds. Sure, it’s windy. But that doesn’t take away from the amazing beaty in the air. That peace Natasha finds up here. A kind of peace she can’t get anywhere else. And it’s totally worth it.

Peter, with careful movement look’s up and out too. His breath shaking and his eye’s red of puffy. The remains of tears leaving shiny tracks down his cheeks.

“I hate flying. I don’t like planes. I get really anxious” Peter shakes his head, “Why did I say yes to this. Why did I say yes to this? Really, Mrs. Widow, why did I say yes to this?”.

Natasha can’t help but chuckles slightly. This kid, he’s got manners. He’s a tiny version of Steve, but with Tony’s genius brain, all placed into a 15-year-old with Spider powers. That looks more like a stick than a superhero. But Natasha knows not to judge of book by it’s covers, this kid can do impressive things. Natasha doesn’t need to be a genius to see that. “Naky, just call me Natasha. Mrs. Widow makes me sound so old”.

Peter blushes, slowly forgetting about the fear of the plane as Natasha keeps talking. As the conversation get’s going. A good distraction. “But-“.

“If you about to tell me ‘But you’re the black widow’, I’d like to point out that we’re the same. No need for formalities, because we’re together in this. You can call me Natasha, or Nat if you want. Calling people by their first name gives a sense of trust before we go into a battle”.

“We’re the same?” Peter sounds so unsure as he questions it, “I’m sorry Mrs-“ he shakes his head, “Natasha, you’re the black widow. You one of the most power heroes out there. I’m just a kid, who’s scared of planes and flying. And what if I’m not good enough? And what if we fail? What if somebody get’s hurt in the battlefield? And-“.

Natasha shakes her head, “If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t have recruited you”.

At Natasha words a strong gust of wind pulls the plane out of her control, for only a moment. The plane tilting sharpy to the side before the autopilot sinks in and adds more power to the lower wing. Balancing the jet midair.

Peter whimpers quietly, his hands fidgeting as he heaves for air. As he looks more and more sick for every passing second. And Natasha makes a choice, pulling on a headset, adjusting the microphone in front of her mouth and calls. “Quinjet 337 here. We’re experiencing a lot of turbulence up here. On our way to Berlin, Germany. Can we meet up?”.

A red button blinks a few times, before coming to a halt. The message sent out to all fellow shield owned planes.

“Meet up?” Peter sounds confused, “You can’t meet up with anybody while you’re in the air”.

“We can actually. The Quinjet is created for speed, not stability. It’s light and is therefore affected a lot by wind. Other planes shield owns are created for stability, not for speed” she starts to explain, “If we can meet up with one of them, we can land in their docking station”.

“That doesn’t sound all that pleasant” Peter mutters under his breaths and leans forward once again. Focusing on his breathing. “Not pleasant at all”.

Natasha sighs and let’s the autopilot get full control, as she let’s the headset rest on the armrest of the pilot seat. Getting to her feat, with ease making it towards a nearby medical kit. Peter watching her with awe, as she takes step by step without any trouble. Ballet and core balance really had helped her out when she had to learn this, but it had still taken lots of practice.

It’s with a steady hand she pulls the medical kit open, to search through it. Hoping to find a plastic back of some sort. It’s the kind of thing that would, well, just make sense to have on a plane.

And Shield planes has everything anyone could ever need. So…

It’s with relative ease that she pulls out a small bag, specifically made for throw up. A small plastic ring at the top, keeping it open. The med kit falls shut with a slight thud as Natasha turns around. Stretching her arm out to Peter with the plastic. Watching as Peter, with gratefulness takes it and holds it up under his mouth. Breathing hard.

She let’s herself slump back into the piolet seat. Not caring the take control back, the autopilot doing a great and steady job of flying the jet. There are no reasons to break the moment of peace.

Peace before the storm really. Though she hopes to keep it at a storm, and not a tornado. She doubts that will actually be possible. That doesn’t mean she can’t dream. She hopes the team can stay together. That things can be sorted out. That everything will be okay in the long run.

“Can I ask you something?” Peter voice is small and a little held back. But Natasha nods carefully with a smile, as Peter goes on. “What did you tell Aunt May? Because I mean, she’s not stupid. And if the story doesn’t make sense, she might figure out I’m spider-man. And…” Peter shrugs, “You know, secret identity and all. She’d never let me go out again”.

“Have you heard about the security leak from Shield and handful of months ago?” Natasha asks, studying Peter. Most people had. Then again, most people still thought shield where the bad guys. Working together with hydra, when in reality, they were fighting against them.

But Peter nods with confident. He’s mouth shut in a tight thin line. “Your uncle’s case was investigated by shield. At least, we were in over it. Said you name had been leaked together with a bunch of extra information. We just, wanted to keep you safe till said leak could be fixed”. It’s a lie. She isn’t quite sure if Peter’s ready to hear about his parents. It’s a lot to take in. A 17-year-old shouldn’t have to deal with that. And even if a 17-year-old should have to deal with that, Natasha isn’t sure she’d the right person to tell him about it.

Peter looks at Natasha for a moment, curiosity on his face, his brow raised. “But…” Peter seems to think about the right words, the right way to ask, “Why was shield over Ben’s case?”.

Natasha shrugs, “You don’t have the clearance to know that. But, if everything goes well, I guess we can talk about it later”.

Other gust of wind sends shivers down Peter’s spin, his cheeks turning slightly green. And Natasha knows that soon enough, Peter won’t be able to hold it. It pains her, knowing that the young boy is suffering. Scared out of his mind, panicked and stressed.

Natasha rest’s a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “It’s okay, kid. It’s okay”. And with that Peter finally let’s go of what Natasha assume is his lunch. Curling tightly over the plastic bag, heaving in the small breaks he get’s between rounds of vomit. The bitter smell fills the cockpit, but Natasha really doesn’t mind. She’s seen agents, much older and stronger than Peter have not just panic attacks in the air, but having thrown up as well. Though, she does hope that Peter feels better soon.

A small tone from the headset on the armrest, makes Peter’s head snap up as Natasha once more places it over her ears. The soft voice of Melinda May greats her, “CXD 23215 here, what’s status?”.

“Agent May” Natasha greats with a smile, “Agent Romanoff here, together with special adviser Spider-man. We’re on our way to Berlin, to help capture the rough Avengers but is experience some turbulence. It’s… uhm…” Natasha watches to the side, as Peter finally seems to have emptied his stomach completely, but still heaving over the thin plastic bag. “It’s rough for some of us. Can you maybe help out?”.

She can distantly hear a muffled conversation in the background, before a small GPS signal pops up on the screen in the control panel, the autopilot trailing them and laying out a path for them to follow that allows for a somewhat smooth rise. The designation S.H.I.E.L.D. 6-1-6 making Natasha relax just a little. “we’re ready for meet up, let us know when you’re in our general vicinity”.

***

Peter stares with awe out of the window, as Natasha confirms with whoever she’s talking to, that their ready for landing. He still feels incredibly ill, and the small of vomit if annoying his enhanced sense quite a bit, but it’s gotten better. He feels a little less dizzy, he can breathe a little easier, as he no longer feels the need to throw up. And the view…

The view is, well, amazing. The soft clouds look almost like cotton candy. Like a pillow. And if it weren’t for the fact that Peter was smart, of knew that clouds was just water in it’s gas form, he might be tricked to believe it was soft. It looked so soft floating there, beneath them.

But the other plane, just a few hundred meters in front of them, a little below, really made Peter’s mouth gape as he watched it.

The Boeing C-17 Globemaster III, was a US military plane. It had been in use from about 1970s to early 1980s, if Peter recalled his history classes correctly. But he knew a handful was still in use.

But looking in more detail, Peter knew this specific one of them had been modified. Another set of wings, smaller and with an engine each was placed at the very back of the aircraft, where on the original model there definitely hadn’t been anything. The usually light gray paint had been replaced with an almost completely black surface, but with the shield logo painted in a slightly lighter color over the back, going over both the wings. And now that he was here, able to see it from above Peter understood a little better what Natasha had meant with landing on it. As small bumps, that Peter was pretty sure was a type of magnetic lock, was placed on the surface of the ship too. Allowing for jet and smaller planes to land on it with ease.

And that was just on the outside! Peter had to reminded himself for a second, that this was shield. That the inside was likely even more customized. And the weapons… that was bound to be… eh… Peter didn’t really know what kind of firepower shield might have.

“Impressed?” Natasha voice pulls him out of his thoughts, as he looks to her with a small smile and nods. “A shame the cloaking isn’t on, that would probably have melted your little nerdy brain”.

“Wait” Peter stop putting a hand in the air, pointing to the plane, “You’re telling me that plane can become invisible?!”. Peter looks out the window, “That technology is supposed to be hypothetical, though I mean, scientist is trying to bend light around objects using artificial materials known as metamaterials, but… but…” Peter shakes his head, “If this is real cloaking, it means shield has figure out how to partially or wholly make things invisible on the electromagnetic spectrum”.

Natasha chuckles lightly from the side, as the autopilot starts bringing them down towards the plane. “Nayk, I have no idea what you just said”.

Peter let’s himself lean back into the chair, with an apologetic smile on his face. He rambles too much; he hears that all the time. But he can’t always help it. He’s a nerd.

“Sorry I…” Peter shrugs “It’s just so cool”.

Natasha nods, “No need to apologize kid. There’s nothing wrong with being smart”. Natasha looks over the controls, as the jet slowly drops. Getting closer and closer to landing. “You know” she shrugs, “I’m pretty sure they have a lab onboard if you want to play with some tech”.

They jet comes down in front of the end tail of the bigger plane. Hovering carefully above the black paint for a handful of seconds, before it moves the last few meters forward and down. Landing carefully in a small curve. It’s relatively smooth compared to rest of the flight they’ve just been through, and as Peter’s senses picks up the small, automated click that confirms the planes are now securely connected, he finally let’s his shoulder drop. His body finally allowing him to relax, even if they’re still in the air. The bigger plane, Peter can already tell, doesn’t get effected by the wind in the same way as the jet had.

Natasha helps Peter to his feet, placing a steady hand on his shoulder as she guides him towards an opening in the back of the jet, allowing them direct access to the plane below.

He finds himself, almost stumbling as he takes the first few steps down the stairs. His spidey-sense suddenly, and unprompted vibrating in the base of his neck. A slightly warning. His hand clasping around the cold, metal railing. Breathing hard as he steadies himself. Natasha sending him one, short, worried look, before he takes a few more steps down, shaking off the warning call from his senses, into what Peter thinks is a lounge area. A few couches here and there, in white leather. A few tables, and a bar.

It’s not really what he expects. But then again, what had he expected?

Natasha steps down by his side, giving him a reassuring smile, before she moves to great the two people coming from the other end of the plane. The cockpit probably.

One of them, a man, probably of slightly older age, is wearing a full suit. A gun is carried at his side, the small weapon hidden just beneath the edge of his jacket. His bold, but… Peter doesn’t think it’s because he’s that old. It seems more like a choice, a style if you may. And his eyes are soft as he greats Natasha and moves towards Peter, a hand outstretched. “Agent Phil Coulson” he introduces, “You must be Mr. Parker”. Peter nods, a small stone placing itself in his throat. As he attempts to hold his strength back, the handshakes weak and shaky. Unsteady.

The other, a woman, somewhat older than Natasha. But probably able to go for being much younger than she actually is. Her long, black hair hands around her face, framing her stiff features. Her cold eyes. The darkness. The… sorrow? “Melinda May” she greats, voice low.

Peter let’s his eyes rest on the floor, at the very tip of his converse shoes. The seams breaking. He doesn’t know these people, and for a moment his stomach twist around itself dangerously. Making Peter, almost unconsciously, move a little closer to Natasha.

The young woman sensing his unease wraps an arm around his shoulder, over his back. Pulling him towards her side, as she starts explaining who Melinda and Coulson is.

Peter doesn’t really hear it. His eyes flickering around the room, attempting to find a focus point.

His spidey-sense vibrating a little louder, as he eyes lands on a young man watching from a distance. His dark hair filled with hair jell, and a thin beard. His eyes cold, colder than those of Melinda. A twitch, creepy smile on his face.

He makes the hair on Peter’s arms stand up tall, a silent voice telling him to run.

Get out of here.

But there’s nowhere to run to. As he, unwillingly stumbles a step backwards, as the man takes a step forward. Joining the other shield agents. Natasha’s arm slips from around him, as he loses his balance, falling backwards and landing on his ass with a small thud.

His head feels fuggy, a dizziness sneaking up on him. And his sense’s keeps screaming, a little louder, and then a little louder. The beginning of a headache, beating between his eyes.

And he looks up, a hand stretched out towards him, the cold stern look replaced with one of a happy smiles and softness. “You okay there, Kid?” the man asks with a smiles, and Peter despite knowing better takes his hand gratefully, as he’s helped to his feet. His sense’s screaming even louder, no longer to run but to attack, to defend. “I’m Agent Ward, but you can just call med Grant”.

Peter sighs deeply, pressing a hand against his aching head.

Something tells him, this isn’t going to go well.

Chapter 2: Nostalgia is a seductive liar

Notes:

That... became longer than I planned it to. Oh well, whatever :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Don’t you think it sounds a little…” Peter shrugs half-heartedly as he reads about James Barns, the Winter Soldier on a Shield Ipad in the briefing room, “… Fishy?”. They been sitting there, Agent May, Coulson, Natasha and Peter himself for almost an hour. Discussion possible strategy to not just make the roughs stand down, but also in case a fight should occur. Keep your distance, web them up seemed simple enough, it made sense and go for his legs too seemed, at least somewhat like decent ideas and plans. Even if he probably could rival Captain America in raw strength, the ex-military part of him was probably way better at tactics than Peter. He could lose on that.

Agent May sends him a weird look that, without words clearly shows she wishes he’d just shut up. Peter isn't very good at shutting up, though. And so, he keeps going. “I mean” Peter let’s the Ipad drop to the table, “If I was an ex-assassin that wanted to stay hidden, I wouldn’t go blow something up unless I absolutely had to. It seems… set up, I guess? Fake”.

“You’ve got no idea how Hydra operates kid. You’ve got no idea what their capable of” Agent May responds with a snare that sends shivers down Peter’s spine, “They aren’t known to always do the most logical thing, and this” she points to a video of the bombing, “This has hydra written all over it. There’s nothing fake or set up about it. The Winter Soldier is a cold-blooded killer”.

“I…” Peter shakes his head, and pushes himself away from the screen table, holo-table? Pashing back and forth. “I’m not saying he’s innocent” Peter states, “I’m just saying there’s got to be more to the story. A missing piece, somewhere in whole this… mess”. He rubs the back of his neck, begging the vibrations that his spidey-sense sends out through his body to stop, leave him alone. “I… I’ve got this feeling that something just, isn’t right. Though that might just be the fact that we’re in a flying deathtrap over the Atlantic Ocean”. He stops, leaning against one of the glass walls and let himself slide down to the ground. Pulling his knees to his chest, resting his head on his arms. Sighing deeply.

Agent May steps forward, a dark look in her eyes that makes Peter want to get out of there. Off the plane. Back to his apartment in Queens. But as May opens her mouth to speak again, Coulson cuts her arm, an arm in front of her preventing her from getting any closer to Peter.

“Mr. Parker has a point” he states, like Peter isn’t some total noob, “Hydra has caught us off guard before. Infiltrating shield for over seventy years. We can’t let that happen again”.

Agent May’s eyes flicker between Coulson and Peter, “Are you doubting my judgement, sir?”.

“Not in the slightly, May. But Natasha thinks he’s got potential” he looks to the redhead, who so far has been quiet in their conversation, but she nods, “Therefor, the least we can do it listen to what he has to say. Sometimes it’s good to have a secondary perspective”.

“Coulson” May’s tone is impatient and frustrated, but her stand and her face gives nothing away, “There a lot more to this than the boy understands”.

At that, Natasha finally moves closer, placing herself between Coulson and May. “That’s why we’re here. To make sure he does understand, to make sure he knows that he’s going into. And if it isn’t too much trouble, maybe we should get this over with. There’s still a lot to discuss”.

May sighs, but nods and slowly starts moving towards the exit, letting the automated doors open for her, and close behind her, as she leaves towards what Peter guesses to be the cockpit.

The air in the room become significantly lighter, and for a moment Peter wonders if it might be Agent May that’s triggering his Spidey-sense. But despite her emotionless features, and her sharp personality, Peter doesn’t really think she’s all that dangerous. At least, not currently.

Though, he doesn’t doubt that she could kill just as easily as James Barnes could.

For now, he just takes a deep breath, allowing himself to relax for just a moment. Leaning his head against the cold glass wall. The headache, feeling just a little less intense than it had done.

“There’s something else we need to talk about” Natasha says directly to Peter, who doesn’t make a move to get back to his feet. Though neither of the adults seems to mind it. “We need to figure out what to do about you, and the accords”.

Peter sighs deeply. He’d known this was coming, saying yes to helping would mean that he’d have to sign. The legal part of the accords demanded that from him. And while, he wasn’t keen on letting his secret identity be known to anyone, at least it would be somewhat safe with the government. Right? Or maybe, possibly, not at all. But did he really have a choice.

“There’s no getting around whole the, revealing my secret identity is there?” Peter asks quietly.

Natasha looks to Coulson who nods “Actually…”, the agent starts scrolling through something on his own tablet as he starts explaining. “You are an individual can’t get around it, yet. The accords still needs adjustment, which will come over, what… the next few months. But shield has already worked on a compromised version of the accords, that Thaddeus Ross has deemed okay for now”. Coulson turns his tablet to Peter so he can see the screen, “It would mean you’d have to be registered on the index, and at the very least be a… hm… adviser for shield. But it would allow us to hide your identity for anyone below level seven”.

It’s… not quite the answer Peter expects. It’s not a bad option, and he doubts Coulson would recommend it unless it was an actually decent option. At least, based on the fact he isn’t currently talking about him, but to him. Like he’s human just as much as Coulson himself.

“And” Natasha adds “If you agree to this, I’m sure Shield would be willing to help find a decent cover story for your late nights out, so your aunt won’t find out about you after school activities”.

He’s going to need more details. He needs to know a little more before he can really say, ‘yes, this is the best option’. But he nods with a tight smile. “Were do I sign?”.

***
Peter takes a step forward, gaining a good stability on his feet, before he swings in for another attack. Aiming straight for his opponent’s lower chin. Allowing as much force as he possibly can into the punch, without risking that the person in front of him get’s seriously injured.

But Natasha is fast and has clearly trained for years and years. Peter knows that. Is still catches him slightly of guard as she grabs him around his wrist, mid swing. His spidey-sense so focused on… well everything else around him, that it doesn’t registers Natasha as a threat. But Peter won’t let it stop him, as he takes the chance and attempts to hit with his other arm. Though, Natasha has that locked in a tight grip just as easily as the first one. “You’re holding back”. It was a moments like these he was grateful Widow didn’t have her weapons, even if it meant no eb shooter for himself either.

He was also immensely grateful for the tricks Natasha had taught him before they jumped into a training fight. Get your opponent into a vulnerable position is step number one. And while, as first glaze Widow currently has to upper hand, this was all a part of Peter’s plan. Maybe.

Step two is to get your attack out of balance, and so. Peter does the only thing he can, with both his hands mostly paralyzed.

He makes a small jump, attempting to make Widow think he’ll attempt to jump over her. But instead, he dives down, sliding between her legs with as much force and speed he can get without his trusty webs. Twitching his wrists slightly, to make Natasha lose her grip. And as Natasha loses her footing just a tiny bit, Peter pushes himself to his feet behind her, before he with ease places his arms around Natasha neck. “Got ya!”. Ready to pull her backwards towards the ground. Winning.

But of course, it doesn’t quite go that easily. Another of Natasha’s lesson’s singing clearly in his brain don’t ever underestimate your attacker. And so before he can make his own final move, Natasha makes hers. Smoothly and quickly.

Her hands clasps around Peter wrists once again. It isn’t quiet as tight as before, and if Peter had time, he would easily be able to pull them free once more. But Natasha doesn’t allow for an opening like that. Peter isn’t surprised. Natasha had talent and skill. She’s fought for ages, probably longer than Peter has been alive. Peter has barely fought for a year. Only been out there since he was 16, learning everything on his own or from stupid YouTube videos. And secondly, Natasha has already overpowered him four times in the past twenty minutes.

With her grasp around his wrist, everything goes too fast for Peter to do duck shit about it. As Natasha leans forward slightly, bending her knees. And pulls Peter over her shoulder, never letting go of his hands. Not even as he hits down into the blue training mate below them. The air being forced out of Peter’s lungs, as he starts gasping for air.

Natasha counts, her eyes focused. One, and Peter gains his breath back. Two, he desperately attempts to push himself back up, she can’t win again. And three, Natasha placed her foot on his chest shaking her head above him. And he just sighs, nods and stops fighting.

He doesn’t give up. He’ll never give up on attempting to take down the black widow. He gives in, knowing that right now, right here, he won’t be able to win.

Natasha lets her foot slide off Peter’s chest, and let’s go of Peter’s wrists with a smile.

He takes a grateful moment on the floor, just laying on his back. Breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth, as he scans his own body. He’s sore, his muscles aching in a good way that he can’t quiet explain. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, and he fells alive. He feels happy, despite having lost once more. He feels good, despite the knowledge that it’s bound to hurt for a few days. His muscles being used a new, way more effective way.

The light gray shield t-shirt that he’s borrowing, is soaked in sweat across his chest and bag. Making it feel cold and wet against his skin. Sticking to him, worse than his webbing ever could.

And he feels hot. Really hot. Despite the fact, that plane in general leaves him feeling annoyingly cold. In a weird… creepy kind of way, that he can’t really explain. But he thinks it might be the sense that keep vibrating in the back of his neck, despite no threat being nearby.

Peter pushes himself carefully up on his elbows, and future up into a sitting position. Watching Natasha from a distance as she leans down to grab her water bottle. And the final lesson stands clear, caught them of guard.

There’s no rules against dirty tricks in this fight. It’s everything, or nothing.

Peter leans back towards the ground, leaning his hands attempting to mimic a way that Natasha had gotten up during an early fight. Almost getting whole his body into a handstand, before he with his lower arm pushes himself off the ground and allows himself to twist in the air landing with one knee bent to the side, the other one stretched out slightly backwards, and his one hand in front gaining him a little balance. It’s easy enough to pull off without knowing everything about how to do it, he thanks his enhanced strength an agility for that.

And then he charges towards her, one hand pulling her around to face him while the second hand pushes her backwards towards the cold metal wall. A loud thud echoing on impact. As Peter’s hand rests against Natasha throat. Natasha’s eyes doesn’t widen, no panic on her face. But under her breath she mutters “Cheater”, probably forgetting that Peter can hear her.

“A fight never fair” Peter points out with a smile.

Counting inside his head, one, two and… but Natasha twist in his hold, and forces him to let go. Giving her the opening needed to push him against the wall.

The rolls turning around. But Natasha chuckles at him and let’s go. “You’re getting better”.

The water bottle Natasha had picked up is now rolling across the floor, but Natasha pushes it light with her foot towards Peter who, with the same ease flips it in the air and catches it with a solid grip. As Natasha grasp another bottle for herself. “Thanks!”, Peter grins excitedly. “I would have gotten you if I had my web shooters”.

“You said that last round too” Natasha says, nudging him with her foot pointing to the bottle, “Drink up. You need it. Wouldn’t want you passing out”.

Peter nods, slowly twitching the bottlecap and let’s the cold-water flow into his mouth. Down his throat in one, long drink. Letting it cool his body down, as he finally calms. For real this time. The adrenaline level dropping. And a want to drop in one of the upstairs couches.

“If you two are done with training” the voice catches Peter of guards as he spins towards the stairs, as Coulson comes down, “Could I borrow Mr. Parker for a moment?”.

“What do you Nayk?” Natasha looks to Peter with a professional face this time around, her demure changing drastically as Coulson enters the room. And Peter isn’t quiet sure if it’s an act or real respect “Want revenge or are we calling it quits?”.

Peter sighs and pulls the drenched t-shirt over his head, letting it fall to the ground as he pulls his own t-shirt over his necked body, the science pun colorful in the middle of his chest where two atoms talk. The red one saying, ‘Stupid electrons!’ with the yellow one responding ‘I’m sick of your negativity’. “You own me a fight” Peter responds, before nodding to Coulson.

“Agent Romanoff, we’re having a meeting in my office in half an hour. I expect you to be there” Coulson says directly to Natasha before he waves to Peter to follow him, as he makes it up the stairs again. Peter hot on his heels, with quick steps thudding against the metal. Before they turn towards the end of the plane, and into what Peter can only describe as being a very luxurious office, that… totally does not fit in to whole the ex-military plane wipe that, well most the plane doesn’t really fit that anyways.

The dark wooden office table, and matching shelfs honestly made for a pretty cool room. The old lamps with metal that was painted golden, but which had long ago become faded and old. It all, felt pretty vintage, while still having it’s place in the modern world that Peter knew.

But while the room and decorations themselves might fit in today’s world, the objects neatly placed all over the place didn’t. Like… that old book collection that Peter didn’t recognize. The Walkie-Talkie Wristwatch made in Poland where only twenty where ever made, not that Peter really knew anything about that, but Ben had told him about it once his uncle being interested in history back before… everything. The miniature model of the very plane he was currently on rested on the front of the desk, perfect to the small detail. And…

And really, it was quite impressive.

And then of course, as an added bonus there was all the technology. The screen in the world near the entrance. What Peter recognized as a high tech military laptop too on the desk.

Peter might have been more interested in that, they anything else on the plane. All the damn tech.

“Have you ever collected anything?” Coulson voice is low, but at the same time friendly and soft. Inviting Peter into this world of, he wasn’t sure… this world of Phil Coulson. A person he didn’t really know, a person who seemed so closed off… and, and here Peter was, allowed inside the literally brain of a man he didn’t really know. And he didn’t really know him either.

Peter shrugs, because… maybe seems like such a stupid answer. “I… I guess. Nothing as impressive as yours, but I do…” Peter feels like a stupid stuttery kid as he says it out loud, “I collect lego”.

Coulson nods and smiles, not seemingly minding the stupid answer that Peter gives. Maybe he’d not really listened. Or maybe, he hadn’t really cared. Or maybe… or maybe, or maybe.

The man lets himself slide down into his office chair behind the desk, pointing Peter to a small chair in the front of the desk where he let’s himself sink into the soft fabric underneath him. As he watches Coulson pull out a drawer and pulls something out. A small object, or rather, a collection of small objects.

He places them carefully out on the table, the small objects showing to be cards. Or, more correctly Captain America trading cards from way back then, when Steve Rogers had just been transformed. And was the worlds first superhuman.

Peter leaned slightly forward studying the cards faded colors. The red and blue still stood bright, but the paper was clearly yellowing and old. But for their age, they were in relatively good condition. If he didn’t look at the large red blood stains that covered the cards. Leaving him to wonder, just a little somewhere in the back of his mind, who had gotten hurt, and what might have happened to get them hurt.

As it turns out Peter doesn’t even need to ask. Or to speak out loud.

“It was quite a shame that my blood came on it during the battle” Coulson stated, “But I also wonder how the world might look today, if Fury hadn’t ruined them” the man took a small break, breathing deeply before he went on. “I expect you too keep it a secret I’m still alive. Natasha down there, she’s the only Avenger that knows. It stays that way”.

Peter looks up, meeting Coulson’s eyes and nods sharply. “Of course, s-sir”.

Coulson hums quietly, leaning back in his chair. Hands bound together. “Your did well against Natasha during training”.

Peter shrugs, “I… I lost five times, Mr. Coulson”.

“Sure you did” Coulson nods “But you kept going even when it seemed like you couldn’t keep up. And Natasha has got years of practice. There’s no shame in losing to her” he says it all so kindly. A deep fondness in his voice that Peter doesn’t quite understand, like he knows something that Peter doesn’t. And Coulson’s eyes resting on him like that, it doesn’t make him uncomfortable per say, but it does raise questions. Questions that Peter doesn’t have answers too.

Peter isn’t sure how long they sit there, in the silence. But it feels like hours, despite it only being maybe a few minutes. It can’t have been that long… right?

“What do you know about your parents Mr. Parker?” Coulson asks friendly, learning forward in his chair, getting close to Peter, and rest his elbows on his desk.

It’s, a weird question. Peter doesn’t, really remember them all that well. He can’t recall what they looked like, or sounded like anymore, haven’t been able to in a long time. Most pictures are gone, and most of their items and objects that meant something has too been discarded or, disappeared. He knows they where scientists, working for some big company but he can’t recall the name. He isn’t sure he’s ever heard the name, honestly.

He remembers asking Ben about them once, about their work. Remembers how distant Ben as seemed as he answered that he didn’t really know. And back then, Peter had been to small to understand the deep look in Ben’s eyes that now would have made it clear that he lied.

And now that he knows, it’s far to late to ask. Because Ben is gun. His blood in Peter’s hands.

So, yeah. Peter knows nothing about the people who gave birth to him. Nothing but names.

“I… I don’t really remember them, sir” Peter replies, “I mean. I know about the accident, about the plane crash. But I don’t remember them, or who they were”.

Coulson nods distantly, “I’m sorry for your lose” he starts out, and Peter wants to shake him off. Let him know that it’s really all okay, that it’s in the past and… and that he doesn’t need that reminder. “I worked closely with them during my early days at shield. Great agents”.

And that… that catches Peter of guard. Forces the air out of his lungs like Natasha attack, only this time it’s mentally and not physically. As he stars into Coulson’s eyes with, curiosity.

“Great scientists” Coulson explains, “Even better in the field. Willing to give their own life’s to save others, even when they knew you where coming. Took Fury months to get Mary to back down, but she didn’t. Not until she almost lost you during a battle. Saved my life to a few times”.

“My… my parents worked with shield?” Peter whispers it, because he thinks he already knows the answer to the question. Think’s he already knows that every word Coulson says is true. But he doesn’t quite believe what he’s being told. This man, this stranger knowing more about Peter’s parents then Peter himself. And… and more than Ben had known. Or maybe, Ben had known but kept it from Peter. “Is that… why shield where investigating Ben’s murder?” with the question Coulson brow raises and so Peter goes on, “Natasha told me earlier”.

Coulson just nods, before he pulls something else out his drawer. Pushing the cards aside, “Their last mission where to infiltrate the Algerian spy ring, controlled by hydra. Somewhere figure out they where double agents though, one of their agents Finisher shot their plane down overseas. Got them framed for treason against the US. Shield fought their case, though their bodies where never found” Coulson places the small objects on the table before pushing it towards Peter. “I found this in storage. It’s one of the few things that were recovered from the plane. I think you should have it”.

It’s your typical neckless pendant, the small round shape hollow allowing for meaningful pictures. And as Peter carefully opens it, he finds something he, well, he should expect it. But he doesn’t. Because there, in each side is old pictures clearly effected by water as the color is faded. But looking back at him, wearing an old fashion shield uniform, is his parents. His mothers red long hair, and his father’s soft eyes. And… and Peter lets his fingers run over the silver. Feels the slight texture on the front and the smooth area on the back. As he tightens his grasp around it, a tear falling from his face and down onto the picture of his mom.

Those are faces he hasn’t seen in a such a long time.

And Peter… Peter wants to cry.

Nobody needs to know about the hug he’s pulled into by Coulson before they leave his office. Before they make their way down, for Peter to see the lab. Or how there might be tear stains on Coulson’s right shoulder, so he’s forced to switch to a different jacket before they leave.

He appreciates it, when Natasha doesn’t comment on the oversized, dark blue shield hoodie, he’s wearing over his t-shirt, the Coulson insisted Peter should have. ‘Your one of us now, really always has been’ leaving his mouth. Providing a soft comfort over his shoulders, as he let’s his hands hide in the hoodie sleeves and breaths. The pendent deep in his jeans pocket.

And Peter doesn’t quite remember his parents. But now he knows, at least just a bit more about them. And he hopes, deep down somewhere, that he’s made them proud.

And maybe, he wonders just a little, if he’s got his good heart from them.

Notes:

I suck at writing fighting scenes, so this is like my best attempt so far. I hope it didn't suck completely.

Chapter 3: With great power comes… something?

Notes:

First of all, Peter is aged up to 17, Skye down to 19. It's really not weird, I promise.

Secondly. The chemicals mentioned is taken from the web fluid recipe that you see during the homecoming movie. But please, don't take that to mean this is correct to science. It's not, and some of the chemicals can be extremely dangerous alone, and even more so combined. They will not make anything that looks the slightly like a web fluid. There's a reason the tag "comic book science" is used here.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The lab as is turns out, is impressive. It’s not big, hell, it’s maybe half the size of a typical classroom at midtown high. But the tech, the design, it’s… it’s amazing.

The very front of the lab is connected to the hanger where Natasha and Peter had been training earlier, though at the time Peter had been too busy being beat up to get a look at what was happening around him. Meaning that, he somehow missed a complete glass wall with sliding doors to his side.

There’s a rolling table in the very middle of the lab. There’s a bright light under it, making the surface stand completely white. But despite there currently standing a large arrangement of some pretty cool work in progress technology, that Peter can’t exactly tell what is, he can smell the death that hangs around the table too. If he looks at the table for too long, he can almost see the dead pale body, laying on it’s back. A thin covered placed over it.

In each side of the lab, there runs more tables. These, more like kitchen counters. And around, halfway up on each side, they bend and allows for even more table space in the middle of the lab.

Chemicals standing in perfect lines against the wall and on shelfs. And Peter wonders if it ever falls down when they fly. It seems, a little dangerous. Really.

And in the back of the lab, is a holo-table. A real holo-table. The blue and light green holo-grams floating in the air, as 3D objects that can be pulled apart like the real deal and can be put together just as easily. With just a swipe of a hand, or the touch of a finger is all changes.

And then, of course to top everything up, because this plane seems to do that all the time. A large monitor is built into the back wall.

To most teens, getting on the shield plane, meeting Black Widow would make their day.

It did for Peter too.

But for him, as a joiner, 3ed year, at midtown high school of science and technology, the lab is the icing on the cake. It’s impressive. It’s… it’s a dream come true. And Peter’s fingers itch to get to play around with, at least some of the stuff.

The gun left discarded at one of the tables - that does not shot bullets, at least it doesn’t look like a bullet to Peter - he probably won’t touch. And that golden half right that - is that a piece of Asgardian armor? Seriously? - he’ll probably stay away from that too.

Huddled over the Holo-table is two, pretty young scientist. A girl that Coulson had called Jemma and a boy, probably a little older than the girl, that Coulson had called Fitz.

Fitz, Peter would really love to know who’d name their kid that. Cause, if he weren’t completely wrong, the last he’d done some late-night googling and ended up on the weirder side of the interest, he’d stumbled upon that name. So really, the question wasn’t, ‘who names their kid Fitz’ but more like… ‘Who names their kid Son of’. It was, strange.

Coulson had left after the short introduction, going for his meeting with the others. And had then left Peter alone, with Jemma and Fitz. Both of whom seemed way to focused on whatever project they were currently working on to bear Peter any mind.

Or maybe they just didn’t trust him.

They head where low over the table, closely stuck together. Talking back and forth in hushed voices. Unaware that Peter could hear every word they said, thanks to his super hearing.

“What’s the chances you can fix the hard-drive Fitz?” Jemma’s voices sounded almost worried as if something, or someone could attack them at any moment, “Those files are important, we need them if we want to be one step ahead of Hydra”.

Watching from a distance, Peter can see the hard drive. The slightly bent and the ripped cable. Fitz sighs as he runs his fingers over it, “If only agents cared about the art of technology, maybe it wouldn’t have been damaged” he unplugs the cable twisting and turning it in his hands, “But, probably a fifty, fifty”.

“Should I ask Skye for help?” Jemma goes on, “She can do impressive things with a computer”.

Fits seems to falter for a moment before he nods, “Probably a good idea”.

“I can help” Peter catches both himself and the others of guard as he speaks. He doesn’t mean to open his mouth, but it happens all on it’s own. “I’m pretty good with tech” he stammers.

Jemma brushes her ponytail to the side and shakes her head. She doesn’t seem mean about it, or rude for that matter, but there’s something in the way she says it… that… well it feels like she doesn’t trust him to know what he’s doing. He can’t blame her. “We prefer to keep this to the professionals. That means our team” she points from herself to Fitz her shrugs. And soon enough Jemma leaves the lab, probably to go find this Skye person.

Fitz, while Jemma seems closed off, is a pretty chill guy. At least, so it seems as he starts playing around with the hard drive, humming quietly to himself.

Peter feels kind of awkward just standing around. He usually feels so at home in a lab, and while this is cool. Honestly amazing! The spidey-sense still playing at the back of his neck, and the fact that he doesn’t know these people, and doesn’t know this lab makes him a little on edge.

A part of him desperately wants to just, go back upstairs and attempt to fall asleep on one of the couches. He feels almost exhausted already, which really shouldn’t surprise him. He’s been awake since early morning, and night is quickly coming along. And if that wasn’t enough, which it really shouldn’t be he’s spider-man after all, the panic attack on the Jet that made him lose his lunch and probably breakfast too, and the emotional moment in Coulson office has drained him.

But he knows that he’ll never be able to actually fall asleep. Even if his sense weren’t killing him, the fact he’s in a plane would probably keep him awake anyways.

He needs a distraction. And what better distraction than to thinker?

And so, he pulls out one of the high lab chairs next to one of the tables, and let’s his backpack drop down on the surface.

Fitz seems distracted, Jemma probably won’t spare him a second though, Skye… whoever she is will probably be busy with her teammates. And rest of the people, maybe except that Grant guy knows about his little secret - does Grant know? Peter isn’t sure. And so, he takes the risk and pulls out his notebook, ‘web fluid’ written in big block letters on the top of the page.

He’s been meaning to attempt making a better version of his web for a while, but with the limited resources at school it hasn’t yet been possible. Having a real lab, if only for a few hours is definitely going to help with that.

Ang so, he goes over the list of stuff he already knows he needs. Stull like Touline C4 H5 CH5. Methanol Ch5 OH. Carbon tetrachloride. H-heptane C2 H6. And so on, so forth. Making his calculations as he goes, figuring out how much of each he’ll need.

He’s been over it about half a dozen times before, but something seems to be missing.

He’s been attempting to purify the web fluid for a while, it’s his best guess to what could possibly make it better. And it’s his first step before he can experiment with different things in the recipe.

“Uhm…” Peter almost feels scared to ask, but he pushes himself up and moves towards Fitz who has now opened the “Fitz right?” the boy looks up from the tables and nods, sending Peter a questioning look. “You guys wouldn’t happen to have any Silica Gel, would you?”.

Peter knows there are better options out there, and simpler too, probably. But Silica Gel is mostly safe to use, and Peter would rather not leave dangerous toxic waste around the city as he swings around. And, if he’s lucky he can get some Silica Gel himself back in New York.

Fitz seems to wonder for a second before he shots up and moves towards one of the storage lockers in the back. “We don’t use that stuff all that often, but it’s possible” Fitz says as he Ramage through one of the shelfs, in his thick accent that bring Peter to think that Fitz might be English. “How much do you need?”.

Peter shrugs moving closer to Fitz watching over his shoulder. “Just like, 10 grams?”.

Fitz nods and pulls something out of a small box, turning towards Peter with a smile. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard about anyone using Silica Gel for anything”.

“I’m trying to purify a…” Peter shrugs “A type of multifunctional glue, and need something non-toxic to do so, that wouldn’t have an adverse reaction with ethyl acetate or sodium tetraborate” he explains in what is probably one of his many rambles about science.

Fitz hums and moves back towards his workspace, “I’m sure Jemma would love to hear about that. She’s in love with biology and Chemistry. I’m more an engineering guy”. Peter just nods and moves back towards his own workspace, sitting down Fitz voice sounds again, “You’re welcome to use anything in here that you might need, just try not to blow up the lab”.

Peter chuckles a small thank you before he moves to starts his work.

***

Jemma returns with, who Peter can only guess to be Skye, 15 minutes later. Her dark brown hair hangs down around her neck, she’s wearing a long sleeve black shirt but has pulled the fabric up to just below her elbows. And held securely to her chest, is a, what Peter guesses to be a pretty expensive laptop that probably store lots and lots of shield secrets.

Skye sends him a welcoming smile, while Jemma looks to him with worry in her eyes, studying his every move.

Peter ignores it. He’d probably do that same if a stranger where mixing chemicals in his lab.

Not that he has a lab, though… Peter does dream about it. Sometimes.

Fitz, who has already disassembled the hard drive and fixed whatever had been broken hands it over to Skye, before himself and Jemma moves along to their next project. Laughing and chattering loudly in the background as Peter tries to focus.

He doesn’t expect Skye to roll and chair over on the opposite side of the table to Peter, plugging in the hard drive and then… to make it even stranger, talk to him. Not like a kid who, should not be on the plane, though that’s exactly what he is. No, she talks to him like any normal person would. Maybe it’s her younger age? Peter is pretty sure she must be the youngest, only a few years older than himself, 19? 20? With Fitz and Jemma being probably 23 or 24 years old.

“Hey” she reaches out a hand cheerfully, “I’m Skye. Nice to meet you”.

Peter let’s go of the glass rod he’s holding, drying of his hands in his jeans before actually greeting Skye in return. “Peter. Peter Parker” and adds “Nice to meet you” as an afterthought.

“You must be that friend Black Widow mentioned. I had expected more like, an adult” Skye chuckles lightly of her own statement, letting her fingers slightly over the keyboard with ease. Pretty each key with confidence.

“Uh” Peter sighs, “Friend is a big word. More like, recruit. Yeah, yeah that sounds about right”.

Skye gives with a look of disbelief, “Didn’t know Avengers went around recruiting random kids. What does she need your help with anyways?”.

“I… Uhm” Peter freezes, his cheeks probably blushing as he meets Skye’s, brown, soft eyes for the first time. His heart rate picks up. What does he say, how does he explain without giving his identity away? How? Where? Where? “First, the… uh… mission is classified” Skye’s eyes goes dark at that, “Secondly, I, uh… my parents used to work for s-s-shield”, the last part comes out unsure and with a clear stutter that probably gives his lie away. Even, if it isn’t really a lie. But it is, at the same time in some weird, complicated way.

“Most be high ranking agents then, for Black Widow and Coulson to know about them. Right? Must have been awesome to grow up with people like that. No secrets or hidden information” Skye says distantly, eyes flickering over her screen, but Peter get’s a deep sense in his gut that Skye isn’t really focusing on her computer anymore. That it’s all a faced she has set up.

“I don’t remember them actually” Peter states, “Didn’t even know about their past till Coulson told me, today. Less than an hour ago” he sighs, learning in over the lab table, “Until then I always just though their death was a terrible accident”.

Skye looks up at that, her lips partly parted. Like she wants to say something, ask something, looking for the right words. Her eyes look so, full of emotions for a moment and then, her voice small, tiny as she speaks. “I don’t know my parents either. That’s part of why I joined shield, and attempt to figure out something more about them, cause all I had was an old shield file” she huffs out a breath, “Redacted”. There’s an anger in the last word.

“Why stick around with shield then?” Peter asks, his curiosity catching him of guard as he slams his hands over his mouth, feeling incredible stupid for even asking.

Skye doesn’t seem to mind and brushes it off with a kind, heartwarming smile. “Guess I found a family in the team, somewhere along the way” she explains “I’m training to become a field agent, Grant Ward is my supervising officer. I’m still hoping to figure out more, someday. But for now, I’m good. I’m home”.

“I know that feeling” Peter smiles back, “My Uncle Ben and Aunt my took me in”. Ben’s names sting in his mouth as he says it, his breath getting stuck in his throat. It’s the first time in over eight months that he says that man out loud, and it hurt just as much as the day it happened.

The gun shot still echoes in his head at night, waking him up from that repeated nightmare.

Over and over again. No breaks.

And he finds himself back there, in that mostly empty street. Ben’s arms around him as he sobs into his uncle’s soft sweater. His backpack heavy over his shoulders.

He calls himself a monster, a mistake, a problem. And Ben tells him otherwise.

Ben reminds him of all the good he’s done. Saving that kitten from a tree when he was a kid, about the boy in the apartment next door that wouldn’t have gotten through middle school if Peter hadn’t helped him with math. He reminds of that he and May is proud he got into midtown high, and that he’s smart. That the whole world is waiting for him.

He remembers walking back towards the car hand in hand.

He remembers the blood, soaking his hands as he kneels by Ben’s side. Screaming for help as the top of his lungs, begging for Ben to stay awake. The sirens coming closer and closer.

Ben doesn’t make it.

Sometimes, Peter plays that night through his head over and over again. Sometimes, Peter imagens what Ben would have said if Peter had revealed his powers.

Sometimes Ben gets angry. Sometimes Ben gets proud.

He always reminds Peter… that with great power comes-

He snaps out of it as fast as he snaps into it in the first place. Skye is standing by his side now, looking worried and she reaches out attempting to place a ground hand on his shoulder. But Peter flinches away from her touch. The chair slipping underneath him as the awkward jerk, and before Peter knows he falls backwards, head slamming down into the lab floor. His vision blurry.

The sound of glass that breaks, followed by the cold feeling of the webbing as it glues him to the lab floor makes Peter’s gut twist. ‘Dammit’.

He pushes himself up as far as he can get, Fitz and Jemma keep to the background but is clearly alert now that they might need to help out.

“Could you grab the small bottle in front pocket of my backpack?” Peter points towards where he has placed it when he started working. And Skye does without a question, helping him with applying the solvent to the webbing. Waiting for it to dissolve.

“That’s... but that means… You’re Spider-man!” Skye breaths out loudly, her face partly shocked and partly amazed as she slumps down on the floor next to Peter, “That’s why Black Widow needs you! Your like, a total superhero. Fighting bad guys and locking them up. Saving people”.

A deep part of Peter swears under his breath that he shouldn’t have worked on the web fluid in an open area. So much for keeping his identity hidden. While another part of him reminds himself, that this isn’t the worst place it could have happened and so, he confirms it. “I am. But you can’t tell anyone, I. I can’t put my friends in danger”.

“Of course, not” Sky reassures him with a laugh, “I would never. I just, need to know something. What’s it like, having those powers, abilities? I mean, cause it’s you right, not just the suit?”.

Peter shrugs, “I don’t know. Scary at first, I guess. Got normal kind of fast though. I… I don’t really think about what it’s like having these powers. I just… I… with great powers comes-“.

He’s about to say that one thing Ben always reminds him, when Skye cuts in. “a ton of weird crap that you are not prepared to deal with?”.

“No!” Peter shakes his head, “It’s not about the powers… the powers are just, there. I guess. It’s more… with great power comes great responsibility. I spend so much time in the street, helping other that I don’t really have time to worry about what it’s really like having these powers”.

As the webbing finally dissolves Skye gets to her feet, reaching a handout towards Peter. Smiling kindly to him, in a way that makes his heart melt in his chest. “Big words for a kid”.

Peter is ready to take Skye hand and get to his feet, pretending that this has never happened. Skye’s eyes as smiling at him with such friendliness that Peter can’t do anything but trust her, not a second of hesitation. And for a silent moment it’s like his sense’s finally dies down. Like he’s safe. And so, his fingers meet Skye’s hand. Her soft skin, smooth. As their skin make contact to each other, it’s like a flash. Electricity running through their fingers, each of them jerking backwards. Skye stumbles, but catches herself on the table, and Peter finds himself back against a table leg. Watching as Skye’s face goes from the normal soft white to a deep embarrassed red as her eyes flicker away. Peter’s own face probably looks much that same.

Peter get’s to his feet without a helping hand, Skye suddenly turning to shy as she hides behind her computer. Seeking into her own world.

The lab falls into an awkward silence as Peter cleans up the rest of the web fluid. Fitz and Jemma giving a helping hand, whispering in hushed voices, so low that Peter can’t hear it. And when their done the two scientist begs Peter to shows him the webbing and web-shooters. So, he does.

Fitz pocks and twist and turns, as he goes over every inch of the metal. While Jemma takes notes, and edits parts of Peter current formula.

He feels Skye’s eyes rest on his back when he’s focused over the table next to Fitz. But as he looks over towards her, her head wipes away, the red color stay prominent in her cheeks.

Peter wonders if this is what loves at first sight is all about.

He pushes that though away, though. After today, he’ll never see Skye again.

Probably.

Maybe, just maybe… Peter’s eyes linger on Skye as she works.

Maybe.

Notes:

So... I might, suck at writing love scene. But their nerds, it's supposed to be awkward, right?

Chapter 4: What we believe we know, may not be the truth

Notes:

Here's another chapter!!!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Natasha leans against the wall, Phil Coulson, Melinda May and Grant Ward spread out over the small office of the plane. It’s cramped and slightly hotter than it should be. Natasha can fell her suit sticking to her skin, the leather uncomfortable, and she almost wishes she has brough a set of spare cloth with her. She’ll have to note that down for the next time she takes on a trip on the ‘bus’. Because, that’s what they call the plane. Bus? That’s a little weird.

Their all focus on the screen, watching Tony Stark go over suit designs for their new recruit. “… And I know, the look may fool you. You might think, well that’s just spandex, right? Well, you’re talking to Tony Stark, of course it’s not just spandex!” he smirks at them through the camera, “It’s a special made type of fabric that has a little move give and is super elastic. And it’s crazy breathable”.

“Then there’s the artificial intelligence, which I’m sure the kid will love. He can name it himself, if he wants, I guess. It doesn’t really have a name. And there’s…” Tony goes on.

“Tony” Natasha voice is stern, powerful, controlling maybe, “I’m sure of it is great, but none of us understand a word you’re saying. Want to impress anyone? Wait till Peter gets to Germany and give him a full course in how to use everything. He’ll love that”.

Tony nods and sighs, rubbing him head around his temples, “Right”.

“We need to discuss something Mr. Stark” Phil takes the word, not given anyone else a chance. Natasha can almost feel the tenseness between him and Agent May, the air the room so thick that she’d be able to slice through it if she stilled carried a knife. She doesn’t, most of the time. “The kid came with a good point earlier. He says there’s something fishy about it”.

“Fishy? Kid?” Tony looks unamused, “Natasha, how old is this recruit of yours exactly?”.

Natasha shrugs, and with her best smirk attempts to mimic Tony’s voice, “I don’t know…” she starts “Not like I carbon-date him”.

“Why does that sound like something I would say?” Tony looks directly into the camera, “That sound like something I would say, right? I mean, that’s clearly not a black widow line”.

“Can we stay focused for five minutes” Phil cuts off, “Kid still has a point. It seems odd, there’s something missing, something we don’t know about yet. Since you’re in Berlin currently, I was hoping maybe you had any more information. I mean, you talked to Rogers”.

Tony shakes his head, “I’ve replayed the conversation with Cap in my head over and over again, Phil. There’s nothing to go by. No clues, no confessions”.

“Have you looked through security footage? It seems like a solid starting point” another male voice joins in, dark yet soft. Grant looking from person to person across the room.

“I doubt Ross would let us take a look at it” Tony points out with a bitter tone, “He barely allowed us to make an attempt of getting them in ourselves. We got 36 hours, that’s not a lot of time. And that was…” Tony looks over his watch and sinks down into his chair on the other end of the video call. “That’s almost 18 hours ago. How far out are you guys by now?”.

“If things go as planned?” Agent May, their pilot thinks “6 hours, 7 tops”.

“That leaves us with 11 hours by the time you guys actually get here. That’s…” Tony shakes his before taking a large sip of coffee, “that’s not a lot of time to work with”.

“On a different note, if I may” Malinda May looks around the room and get are stiff nod from each of the people, Phil included, “Do we really think that giving a teenager, an enhanced teenager at that, a multimillion-dollar suit is the best possible action?”.

“May” Phil’s voice is deep in warning as he sends her a look that Natasha is pretty sure is supposed to mean ‘stop that’ but comes off more as a begging puppy. A cute, begging puppy.

“Multi-billion dollar suit actually. T’challe sponsored a pretty good amount of vibranium that we’re creating his new web shooters off. That’s what he called them right” Tony looks over something on the table in his side of the call, “Web shooters, yeah. Right here. That’s it” he looks up, Agent May’s eyes cold and sharp, “Right. Not helping”.

“The price tag is beside the point!” Agent May’s voice rises a few decibels as she says it, and before Natasha can do anything but observe Phil places a hand on her should. Shaking his head in her direction, grounding her as a distant looks seep into her eyes. A tear trailing her cheek.

“Agent Ward” Phil’s voice leaves no room for negotiation “Why don’t you go offer our guest some dinner. He has a metabolism to rival Captain America”. Ward looks like somebody who wants to argue, cleansing and uncleaning his fists, a look of hate and frustration on his face. But he leaves. He doesn’t say a word, but you can see the anger flow over him. Natasha doesn’t understand it, not really. Doesn’t understand why this, leaving this mess could make him mad. A part of her wants to follow, but Phil shakes his head. “He isn’t exactly happy about playing babysitter. Should have seen him on mission with Fitz last year. Threw out his sandwiches”.

Phil sends Stark an apologetic look before he slams the laptop shut, the screen going black. The connection lost. And then he turns Agent May around, makes her look at him, deep into his eyes. “Melinda?” Phil’s voice is softer than Natasha has ever heard it before as he grasps both of May’s arms, carefully guiding her to his office chair. Her face palling like she might pass out any second. Her breathe stuck in her throat. “If this is about his age, if this is about… about that girl, you need to remember. Peter Parker? He isn’t that young helpless girl. He can stand up for himself. I’ve seen the videos, you’ve seen them. You don’t need to worry” Melinda takes a deep breath, “Let the girl go, Melinda. Let the girl go. Peter isn’t like her”.

“You… y-y-you don’t k-know what… what…” she shakes her head, “You don’t know what really happened that day”.


***

Peter cleans his eyes shut, steadying himself on the table. The edge of the glass digging into his hands, and with his strength a part of him fears it might splinter in his hold. But the dizziness takes him off guard, as the headache hits again. But maybe just, 10 times worse than it had been just a few moments earlier. Black dots dancing in his vision, the light almost blinding despite his closed eyes. And for a moment, he isn’t actually sure if he’s breathing. Is he breathing?

The hand the carefully hover over his shoulder just a few seconds later, ready to catch him if he falls, is enough to trigger his spidey-sense. The warning system that he can usually trust and rely on, broken like some computer program.

He can feel his whole-body flinch backwards, almost tumbling into a glass locker behind him. Filled with dangerous chemicals. Gasping for air, that he can’t seem to get into his lungs.

The hair on his arm stands high, screaming at him to get away. Despite knowing neither Fitz, Jemma or Skye will hurt him. Cause he knows that, right? They haven’t yet at least. Too deeply focused on their work and looking into Peter’s webs and tech.

He wonders, not for the first time, if it’s because of the plane. If this is a sign he might die here. In the sky, far away from anything. Leaving his aunt to wonder. Just like his parents.

He can see Fitz talking, hands raised where Peter can see them as he slowly makes his way towards the frightened spider. Each step taken with such care, it’s like approaching a frightens animal, caught in the headlights of a car. Panicked and not mentally there. And Peter feels his heart speed up at little, as he takes a step backwards, when Fitz takes one closer. Now leaning against the locker behind him. The cold glass doing nothing the ease the sudden fear, that isn’t really that sudden, just… just weird.

He knows his spidey-sense can act weird. It had caught him of guard the first time he works up, the humming in the back of his neck, despite it being a morning like all others. May burning the pancakes. Peter being slightly late for class, stealing a piece of toast from the table instead of waiting. He’d found out, later that day when he got home, and the radio was still playing - he hadn’t noticed it during his busy morning - that his Spidey-sense seemed to be affected by sound waves. Or waves in general maybe? Vibrations did seem to be a trigger as well.

He did wonder if he with training or the right tech could make it work as a Rader. Build into his brain, sensing where everyone was at a given time. He really needs to look into that.

But could this be like that? Could the wrong frequency trigger this violent of a signal from his sense to his body? Could that explain the sudden angst he was feeling in the pit of his stomach, or was that the fact he hasn’t eaten since lunch?

There wasn’t even a radio nearby. But then again, he was on the - probably - most high tech plane ever. It wasn’t impossible that something might trigger him. Right?

“Spidey? Spider-man? Uhm…” Fitz stops in front of him, “Peter? You good now? Everything alright? Or, I mean… do you need space? We can totally give you space, we just, need to know you’re okay… uhm… dude?” the last is said hesitantly. But Peter can hear again. That’s a win.

“Yeah I…” Peter shakes his head, taking a deep breath. Hoping for his senses to calm down. They don’t, not really. “Is just… I… I got this sense. Like, a danger signal. And it’s been going off ever since we left the jet. It’s just, making me paranoid. I guess”.

Jemma seems to brighten somewhere in the background, eyes widening. Her posture changes from relax to excited, and she looks like she might explode any second if she doesn’t get out whatever it is she wants to say. Whatever crazy thought might be running through her head. The gears spinning behind her nose, somewhere, deep inside her skull. And she with a lazy handwriting - the one all doctors and scientists has - scribbles down on a nearby piece of paper.

“That’s… fascinating” she starts off, not looking up as her pencil moves over the lines, drawing something maybe. Peter isn’t sure. “How does it work? Is it like, when a spider catches a pray in their web and feel the vibrations or is it a sort of enhanced flight or fight system? And what triggers it, usually? Can it like…”. Jemma is worse than Peter, and Peter rambles a lot. He never thought he’d meet anyone else like that.

Fitz looks to Jemma with a raised eyebrow “I thought I was the one who rambles” he mutters under his breath. Peter feels almost at home here, safe here, in the lab.

“Any chance that whatever that is” Skye’s voice jumps in, as she points towards Peter “is trigger by a malfunctioning object on the plane? Something that might not, I… be a danger right now but could become it?”.

Peter shrugs, and moves to sit down, near Skye. The dizziness hasn’t gone away. He feels lightheaded standing up. Like he might tumble to the floor at any second. “I don’t know”.

He can feels Fitz and Jemma’s eyes rest on his back, as he leans over the table. Skye carefully reaching out a hand that she places on Peter’s arm. A strong grip, that somehow makes it a little easier to breath. The vibration in the back of his head a little less intense. Like early. Only, it doesn’t go away fully. But the soft comfort leaves almost as fast as it comes, and Peter reaches out, silently begging Skye to stay. “It helps” he whispers, “It helps”. And Skye just smiles softly and strokes her fingers, slightly awkwardly over Peter’s hair. Her cheeks turning red, but a fondness in her eyes.

It’s calm before the storm.

Jemma joins them at the table with a small device, that… Peter doesn’t know what it does. But his head is too tired to fight it, as Jemma slide it onto his head. Little it rests on his forehead, down the middle over his hair, and ends at the edge of his neck. Before she focuses on a tablet screen.

Fitz watching over his shoulder. Eyes jumping from one point to another. Analyzing the details of whatever it is their seeing. “That looks like… waves of some kind. Like a radar”.

Peter nods from his position leaning over the table. Skye right hand never really leaving him, while her left keeps working on… hard drive, right? He thinks it was a hard drive.

“Does it ever like…” Fitz starts talking, trailing off, looking for the words Peter would guess. But Jemma is the one to jump in, probably thinking faster. Or maybe, it’s just, luck. “Get disturbed by radio waves or phone signals?”. Peter nods again.

“It could be our clocking system. It changes frequency every time a new plane comes near. We don’t want to get caught when invisible due to a radar. So, we send out a matching signal canceling the other single out” Fitz starts to explain, “It’s just a theory of course. But if that’s the case, we could try and chance to frequency manually. See if there’s a better match”.

Peter pushes himself up and shakes his head, “It’s fine. Really. You don’t need to change anything”. He hopes he sounds reassuring. But just sitting makes his head spine. And… huh. Maybe he should ask for food. His stomach feels incredibly empty. “I could use some food though”.

“It’s your lucky day then” Grant Ward, the older male that had helped Peter to his feet earlier walks in through the sliding door. Smiling kindly to his teammates. “Coulson send to me fetch you. Said you might need some food, we got pizza upstairs. And I’d very much like to get a talk with you. Get to know you. Find out more about you, on a friendly level. Not a…” the man points to the device on Peter’s head, “What’s up with science geeks and boundaries anyways?”.

Peter can feel his back run cold, like somebody might have thrown a bucket of ice water over him. He feels drenches as the vibration goes from being in his neck, to running all the way down his spine. He can feel it tingle in his fingers and toes.

Against better judgment he get’s to his feet. Against better judgment he follows Ward out of the lab. His spidey-sense screaming louder and louder at him that something isn’t right.

Peter doesn’t listen to it. It’s just the cloaking. It’s just the cloaking a voice in his head keeps repeating. It’s been a long day, emotional too, it’s just the cloaking. You’re just nervous. Nothing wrong. And really, nothing is. The team has worked together for over a year. They stood together in the darkest times, when Hydra was revealed, and shield forced into hiding. He heard about that, on the news. All around the same time Ben was killed. All due to… chaos.

There’s no reason to be scared. It’s just the cloaking.

Each step he takes up the spiral staircase, a few feet behind ward, the metal echoes. The sound bouncing through the room, hitting Peter’s ears with an annoying sound. But he can practically smell the pizza from hear, the nice, melted cheese. Frozen pizza, heated in an oven, sounds amazing right now. Peter has to be honest. It’s probably just the cloaking. And with that, his sense finally calm down as he sits in the large couch. Ward pushes a plate towards him, throwing a cane of soda that Peter catches with ease. It’s just the cloaking.

“So, Spider-man” Ward sits down in the chair across from Peter, his own drink in hand, “You’re what, seventeen?” he nods, “I wasn’t much older when I joined shield, you know. Suddenly I had to fight, and it was scary, but I knew all these people, agents had my back. You… you are alone out there, every single night. Fighting crime. On your own. Don’t you ever… get scared?”.

Peter takes a bit of the pizza, letting the cheese be pulled into longs strings as he chews. The pepperoni strong in taste. Probably the best store-bought pizza Peter has ever gotten. And his stomach sits a little easier. The spidey-sense calming down. And it makes Peter wonder if his spidey-sense can register low blood-sugar. If maybe, it had known way earlier than him that he was going to pass out if he didn’t eat, and it had warned him of that. Had it ever done do before?

He shrugs are Wards question. “I… I don’t know sir. When I go out there, it’s an attempt to help people. Protect them. I’m scared, sure. But more scared of what my aunt my think”.

“Scary aunt?” Ward raises an eyebrow, his face looking almost shocked “You’re not, getting abuse, right? That’s not what we’re talking here?”.

Peter shakes his head violently, also choking on sip of his soda. “No. No, not… not like that”.

“Good. I just need to make sure” Ward smiles carefully to Peter, “And let me tell you, if you ever need it, come to me. If something happens, I’m here” he looks almost distracted. “I was abused as kid, myself. That’s why I ran away. Joined shield”. Ward gets to his feet pacing the room as Peter eats. “I found a father figure here, John Garrett. Shame he turned out to be a hydra agent. He was killed during transport to the sandbox. It was a… a mess. It came as a bit of a shock”.

Ward leaves Peter vision, fiddling with something behind him. He can hear the sorrow in Ward voice as he talks. As he explains about the attack. About what happened.

“He used to be my S.O. it means supervising officer. I’m Skye’s now. Though, there where some trust issues right after the whole, hydra reveal” Ward leans over the couch back, watching Peter with expecting eyes. “I see a little bit of myself in you. The way you stand tall despite everything that has happened. I guess… the only difference is how we dealt with it” Ward shakes his head, “You…” he taps Peter’s shoulder, “You became a hero. I…” I points to his own chest, “I became the bad guy, you could say. Though to me, everything I do is right”.

He’s caught of guard. The pinch in the back of his neck, the coldness suddenly spreading. The spidey-sense that’s shocked back to life. And the shattering sound of the needly dropping to the floor, as Peter pushes himself up and away from Ward. Too late. Too late. Too late.

It’s already too late, as a numbing feeling spread through his body. His vision going cloudy. And he regrets not listening to his sense’s earlier. He regrets all of it. Regrets saying yes to Natasha, regrets getting on the plane. Regrets talking to anyone. He regrets… he regrets everything expect Skye. He feels his heart skip at beat, thinking of her name.

“It’s ironic. Hydra has been wanting you for months. Watching your every move. Unable to figure out who was behind the mask. And then…” Ward sqeezes his hand in front of him. Peter’s knees buckle under him. And he falls. “… Then Natasha brings you, little Spider, right into my grasp. Into Hydra’s grasp. And shield, they’ll never know what hit them. You’ll be mind wiped before anyone can do, anything”.

Ward let’s himself sit down on the floor, next to Peter. Fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting for them not to leave Ward, but their too heavy. His throat is too heavy to call for help. To scream. He He’s alone. “What’s even more ironic is how much Hydra has already taken from you, without knowing it. Garrett, he set your parents up. Did Coulson mention that to you. Set them up, blaming them, making shield’s current director think that Mary and Richard Parker, were hydra. Doublet agents working undercover” he chuckles lightly, “It gave them another fifteen years inside shield. And your parents died, because shield believed the bad guys. Coulson… shield… they aren’t any better than Hydra. They lie, and manipulate just as much as Hydra, to get what they want”.

Peter’s doesn’t get a chance to respond. To really think about the word that’s coming out of Ward mouths. Everything going fuzzy in his head. His sense going numb. Like he can’t see. Can’t hear.

And he slips under, despite his fight against the drug in his veins.

“Hill Hydra”.

Notes:

God, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I'm not sure it's perfect, but damn... whole the, talk between Ward and Peter. That is a moment I waiting to write to a while!

Chapter 5: Never turn your back on the enemy, you taught me that

Notes:

Another chapter, here we go :) This is getting good.

Chapter Text

Skye let’s her fingers glide over the discarded device on the lab table, the black plastic rough under her fingertips. As she signs deeply, and let’s herself rest in the chair she’s currently sitting in, as the lab door closes behind her.

There are butterflies flapping around in her stomach, like the first time she worked with the rising tides. The first time she held a gun in her grip, securely, but unable to pull the trigger, paralyzed with fear. Like before her first mission with shield, and probably during most of it until she let go and let her body do the work instead of her mind. Like when she confessed to Coulson about her parents, after that mission with her ex. Like the day she saved Coulson, who in some ways… was more a father to her than anybody knew. And like that day with Ward… hiding, waiting, watching. Hoping that would be the end. And their lips meeting.

Skye has feeling for Grant Ward. She’s sure of it. With how she sometimes stutters around him, how her hands go sweaty, and her heart skips a beat. She knows for sure.

They’re not dating. It was one kiss, followed by a drink and a talk. A promise of something better, and a promise of trust. A talk, just a talk, it’s not like she offered him to have sex. She don’t think that would work out anyways. She’s got a feeling; dating isn’t something Coulson likes on his team.

He hasn’t outright said that, or anything that might give that impression. And Skye knows, two of the agents back at Shield does sleep together. Call each other ex. It’s not like dating and loving it’s a strictly no-go thing. But he seems to like his own team to be professional.

The team is a family. Like brothers and sisters, who fights side by side. Who covers each other’s backs when things go rough. She’s seen that firsthand. She wouldn’t want that to change. And someone from the team, suddenly falling in love with one another might risk that family relationship they’ve got with the rest of the team.

It’s not like she’s completely closed for it, not at all. She’s just… she can’t risk it. She doesn’t know her parents, she doesn’t know where she comes from, she doesn’t even know her own name. Her real age. She doesn’t know where she belongs. But here, with shield, with this team… she’s at home for the first time, in a long time. In forever. She can’t let that go.

She cares about Ward, she knows he cares about her too. That kiss meant something.

So why… why, why, why does the electricity glister in the air between her and Peter Parker. Why does her heart skip that important beat, and why does her cheeks feel so warm? So awkward. Why, does she want to get up from the lab chair and run towards the door, up the stairs and hug him close. Run her fingers through his soft hair once more, and just talk about whatever. Listen to his smooth voice, and his bad jokes. Trust him with every inch of her body as they cuddle. Falling asleep against each other and waking up to the early sun rise the following morning. Their lips connecting with one another, and it will feel right… why does she even imagen that. That’s the story of a fairytale, not real life.

Why… why oh why does she suddenly doubt her feelings for Ward? How has her heart replaced Grant; with a kid she’s barely known for an hour?

“It’s truly fascinating” Jemma’s voices are filled with a fondness and excitement that Skye only hears when their talking mutants and enhanced individuals. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this”. Her voice grows high pitched as she scrolls through the little data, they have on the kid’s so called danger sense.

“Don’t you find it a little weird” Fitz brow is rising looking over Jemma’s shoulder, “We don’t know the kid, that…” Fitz shrugs “That just looks weird too me”.

Jemma almost huffs as she turns towards Fitz with a smirk, “You’re just jealous because he works better than a shield lie detector. This” she places the screen right against Fitz face, “This is ground break, really. I doubt even Bruce Banner would be able to explain it”.

“I just think it’s weird it would spike for Ward. We have been working with him in forever. He’s our teammate, our friend. He’s not a danger to anyone” Fitz leans against the counter behind him.

It catches Skye’s attention, her fingers hovering over her keyboard. Like frozen in place. “It spiked when Ward came?”.

Fitz nods stiffly while Jemma just shrugs, “Fitz, you said yourself it could be cause of the planes cloaking device. I’m sure you’re right, it makes sense. Trust yourself a little”.

“It do trust myself” Fitz cuts in with an almost hard tone that so rarely is used, “It’s still just weird. I mean, it spikes at Ward, but it’s almost nonexistent when Skye was near him”. Skye narrows her eyes at Fitz as he says it, Jemma letting the tablet drop to the table next to Skye so she can see herself. And sure enough, the red curve does seem to almost disappear completely in the time where she was there, right by his side. While it spikes high, really high, the second Ward’s voice comes. Only to stay high. A constant state of alertness.

For a moment Skye tries to remember if Peter had seemed nervous when Ward come. Sure, it wasn’t more than, what 30 seconds they where in the same room, but had there been anything? Had Peter been shaking? No, he hadn’t. But he had shot up from his laying position over the table when Wards’ voice echoed through the lab. Skye had though the new voice just caught him of guard, cause he look relatively at peace otherwise. Didn’t he?

She let’s her fingers run over the cold metal of her laptop before the snap it shut. Pushing it aside, and get’s to her feet. “I’ll go check on him, just to be safe. It could be anything right?”. Jemma and Fitz agrees in a nod, before they return to, well… whatever they had been doing before.

Skye waits patiently for the lab’s glass door to open for her, stepping into the cold hanger of the plane. Lola standing to the side, together with a dark shield wane. The blue mate still on the floor, somebody must have been training earlier. But she doesn’t really care, as she makes it towards the stairs. One foot in front of the other, slowly making her way up. Her sneakers silent against the metal. And she wonders, only for a second, why she even cares to check on this kid.

As she makes it to the top, the door at the end closed, she can hear hushed voices from inside the lounge area. Well, more like, one hushed voice. Sending chills down her back, because it feels like a voice she knows, yet it sounds so dark at the same desperate time.

She stops at the door, hand hovering over the handle. Hesitating. What if isn’t something Skye thinks a lot, sure what if she found her parents or what if her parents are dead is almost permanently stuck in Skye’s brain. But what if as a general question isn’t there at all. Never. She rarely thinks about what she’s doing before she does it, a trait Coulson isn’t happy about and which her and Ward has been working on fixing for a while. And maybe, the fact that she hesitates now, is her shield training finally kicking in.

Or maybe, it’s that feeling in her gut, that something bad is about to happened.

She pushes the door open anyway, not a lot, just barely so the voice goes from muffled and unclear, to… well… clear enough for her to make out most of the one-sided conversation. As Skye leans against the wall, begging that nobody can see her, because she can’t see them.

“I see a little bit of myself in you. The way you stand tall despite everything that has happened. I guess… the only difference is how we dealt with it. You became a hero. I became the bad guy, you could say. Though to me, everything I do is right” and Skye’s fear is confirmed, the voice is Wards. That friendly voice she knows so, so well. That person who didn’t just help save her when she was shot, but also cared about enough to make sure it would never happen. Ward watched her back, taught her how to fight. This? This didn’t sound like the Ward she knew at all.

Skye can’t believe it. Benefit of the doubt and all. And if Ward is, then what about the rest? Hadn’t they caught all the bad guy’s infiltrating shield? “It’s ironic. Hydra has been wanting you for months. Watching your every move. Unable to figure out who was behind the mask. And then… Then Natasha brings you, little Spider, right into my grasp. Into Hydra’s grasp. And shield, they’ll never know what hit them”.

She can hear somebody fall to the floor. A thud, the vibrations echoing through the floor, calling for her. “Hill Hydra”. And Skye… Skye really doesn’t know what to do.

Melinda, Coulson and their second guest Black Widow is all in Coulson’s office. Which, Skye can’t get to without going past Ward. Jemma and Fitz are scientist, not fighter or warriors. They might know how to use a gun, but they’d never stand a chance against Ward. And Skye can’t do it on her own. Or… no. She doesn’t know Ward’s moves well enough; she doesn’t know where in the room he is, and then there’s Peter. The Kid’s Spider-man, but… what if he got caught in crossfire? What if Ward killed him, right in front of Skye.

Her heart skips a beat, and she has to close her eyes taking deep breaths to get that picture out of her mind. No. Her best chance of helping is to pretend she didn’t just hear them.

Her hands are shaky as she pushes the door open, but she attempts to steady them as best she can, as she scans the room for first of all Ward and Peter, secondly, a weapon should it be needed.

Ward is leaning over a body, Peter’s brown curls resting against the wooden panels that makes up the floor on most of the plane. It’s time for a game of pretend.

“Hey Wa-“ she attempts to make the breath she takes be filled with surprise, maybe worry, but she’s sure it comes out more as a… well panicked breath. “What the hell happen!?”. She takes a few fast paced steps towards the two figure on the floor, Ward turning around to look at her, a glimpse of fear in his face that now he’s caught, before he can reapply his mask and too plays a game of pretend.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

“He just, he just collapsed” Ward’s voice is shaky. It’s different from the usually confident man she knows Ward as, but she’d never point that out. His next words are high pitched, “Don’t just stand there, you have to get help” but Skye moves closer to them, and Ward snaps, “Skye that’s an order!”.

Maybe it’s the fact that he uses his S.O voice on her, or maybe it’s the fact that she knows whatever she’s dealing with is more than she can handle on her own, but she moves.

She doesn’t allow Ward to leave her vision, not completely. She’s on her toes, Ward at least in the corner of her eye as she get’s around. Almost falling over a syringe discarded on the floor and has probably rolled away. But she does moves. Even if she keeps watching over her should. She moves, not running, but almost. She moves.

In her head a small voice chatting over and over again, hill hydra, hill hydra, hill hydra. Grant Ward is hydra, Grant Ward is hydra, Peter is hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt. Get to Coulson, get to Natasha, get to Melinda. Hydra, hydra, hydra. Like a broken record she hears it. Again, and again.

It’s so loud that she wonders if she’s saying it out loud. That she wonders if Ward can hear it too, or at least see on her that she knows. Because she knows. She knows what she heard. What she saw. She knows.

She expects him to at any moment jump to his feet, gun drawn and pointed against her. She expects him to at any moment, to pull the trigger. The sound echoing through the plane, as she’ll collapse. Broken and bloody. As she’ll die on the floor, to the hand of her own S.O. Her own… friend? Grant Ward had been a friend. He’d been more than a friend, but now… now it all seemed so far away. A part of her waiting to be woken up in her bed, all this a bad dream that she can just forget about. Her little secret.

But that never comes. She doesn’t wake up, because this isn’t some sick nightmare.

She makes it to the hallway that leads to Coulson’s office. She can hear the voices of the three, just behind the wall. She briefly stops, afraid of disturbing them. But she doesn’t have that kind of time, as she pushes the door open with so much force that the whole plane vibrates. Slamming it shut behind her, gasping for air. Attempting to find the right words to say… the adults just staring at her with worry and wonder. And Skye feels so bad, like she has to throw up. Because Ward is hydra, Ward was her friend, Ward, Ward, Ward.

“Ward is hydra. Peter’s hurt”.

***

“You… y-y-you don’t k-know what… what…” Melinda shakes her head, “You don’t know what really happened that day”, looking deep into his eyes. Her dark eyes bursting with hurt and emotions that Phil can’t place. That he can’t understand or describe because Melinda never shows them. He isn’t sure if this is sadness, or worry, or fear. He can’t tell if she’s angry of terrified. If there’s a ball of guilt stuck in her gut. If… if… he just isn’t sure.

“Then tell me” Phil kneels in front of her in the chair, placing his hands over hers in her lap. “Explain to me why you don’t feel like you can trust him. Or what makes you scared. I want to help you May. I want to understand”. He keeps his voice low, soft. He doesn’t want to frighten her; he wants to be a friend to her. Be there for her as best he can.

Phil remembers that day still, like it was only yesterday. It stands clearer in his mind than the attack on the Heli carrier in 2012. He doesn’t know if that’s because he died there, knowing that the team would never function without a common goal. Or if it’s because of everything that happened to him afterwards. After he died. Tahiti would be a wonderful place to visit, Phil hasn’t. It’s all fake, a dream maybe, programmed into his mind. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t remember that day. But he does remember the attack.

He kept the troops, the military away for as long as he could. Not knowing exactly what was going on inside that building. But knowing that Shield was the only one able to do anything about it.

Then the gunshot had echoed through the streets, and Phil had run. Towards the building troops hot in his track. And on the floor that night, he’d found Melinda holding that young girl in her arms. Dead. Her mother off to the side. And so, so much blood.

He had no way of knowing exactly what had happened that day. Anyone who might have been able to give an answer had mysteriously passed out. Only Melinda knew.

Melinda had walked out that day, broken in pieces. Blaming herself, as she told the same story, over and over again. She didn’t understand that girl. She didn’t understand what was happening. May never said out loud what happened, Phil could only imagen the possibilities. Had the girl shot herself, just meter’s away from May do to the sorrow of her mother? Had she been caught in the crossfire? Had someone done it to her, maybe to threaten May?

He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure May would ever actually speak of what happened that night.

Maybe… maybe he’d been wrong about that.

“That girl” Melinda’s voice is barely above a whisper as she talks, brokenly, “The girl that night… she…” she shakes her head, pulling her hands from Phil’s grasp and covers her face slightly. Taking deep breaths as she looks down into the floor of the office. “She had powers”.

It takes Phil of guard, sure. But he’s a spy, he doesn’t let it show. He can feel Natasha steady presence behind him. “The mom’s gift where genetic?”.

Melinda shakes her head violently. “Her… her mom didn’t have powers, sir. The girl was the cause of all the chaos, all the death. Of course, we didn’t know that going in, we had no clue. All signs pointed to the mother. But I felt it… all the pain, and terror in that little girl. She didn’t understand it. That power she’d been given. She…” May sighs, “She leaked off emotions like a parasite. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I… she would have killed them all, the agents… if I hadn’t… I…”.

“Sssshhh” Phil places a steady hand on Melinda’s shoulder, “I trust your judgement, May. I told you that earlier, and I’m telling you again. I don’t doubt your judgment in the slightest” he shakes his head. “What happened that day, that isn’t on you. It wasn’t your fault”.

Melinda dries off the worst tears from below her eyes, attempting a desperate smile that Phil sends back to her with an only slightly better one.

May killed that girl. But Phil doesn’t blame her. Phil can’t blame her.

“That’s why I fear Mr. Parker, sir. He’s a teen, yes. But he’s still young. He doesn’t understand the battle he’s about to enter. I…” May finds Phil’s eyes, “What if it happens again?”.

“He’s agreed to get on the index” Phil says is slowly, allowing Melinda to take that in, “He said himself that he think’s superheroes, people like him needs to be watched. To make sure they don’t make mistakes, or at least so they can be hold accountable for the mistakes they do make. He not like you and me, adults working for shield, because that’s what we’ve always done. He’s not like Natasha” he nods to the sky behind him, “He’s not a trained killer, I doubt he’d ever kill unless he absolutely had to. He’s not like Ward, or Fitz, or Jemma. They we’re trained and schooled with the purpose of joining shield” he smiles softly to May, “He’s like Skye maybe. In a situation where he’s given the choice, he’ll do the right thing. And there will be mistakes and bumps along the way. But I don’t think we need to worry too much about him. He’s a good kid”.

If May want’s to say anything too it, if Natasha want’s to agree and disagree, come with her point of view, they don’t get the chance.

The door to the office swings open with so much force that it shows them all. Phil intactly reaches for the gun, that he doesn’t even carry on the plane. Natasha knife is out in seconds, and May stiffens, getting ready to get to her feet if she has to.

Skye’s skin is pale as a sheet, she’s breath quickly and unnaturally. Her whole body shaking for fear and panic. She looks almost dead on her feet, but not injured.

“Ward is hydra” she manages to rasp out between breaths “Peter’s hurt”.

Chapter 6: It's easy to deceive, but it's hard when the trust that's broken is mine

Notes:

I really didn't plane to post tonight... honest.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

She isn’t sure she’ll ever be okay after that night, after that kill. Looking deeply into that young girl’s eyes, as all the pain she felt filled the room with such thick an atmosphere that May could have cut it in a million pieces with a knife.

She still wakes up after anxiety written nightmares. Reliving that moment over and over, but she doesn’t really regrate it. She’s been trained to do whatever it takes to finish the mission.

She doesn’t think that will ever change. It’s left it’s scare already. It won’t heal.

Coulson’s soft words, and shy smiles does make it easier, though. No longer carrying that weight on her shoulders, all on her own, that makes it better. In some weird, obscure way. And hearing from Coulson, what she already knows, that Peter Parker is better, stronger than them, that helps a little too. Because he’s right. He’s absolutely right.

He’s right. A part of her still want’s to argue that he’s wrong. She doesn’t have the time.

“Ward is Hydra” Skye’s voice is filled with panic, and May feels her muscles stiffen in the chair she’s sitting in. Ready to jump up and fight if she’s needed. “Peter’s hurt”.

Coulson’s steady presence by her side moves towards the frighten girl in the front of the room. “Woah, Skye. Breathe for a second okay” Coulson places his hands on Skye’s lower arms, steadying her trembling hands. And May just barely notices the flitch at the contact. “What happened?”.

“We… we where just in the lab, and Ward came, and he took Peter to get some food” Coulson nods, he’d been the one to send Ward in the first place. He wasn’t important in the business with Stark, and… well, May was happy he didn’t see whole her, minor meltdown. “And… and Peter seemed fine, you know… but… but… I went to check on him. And, I was about to open that door, and Ward was talking and I heard, and then there were a thud and I think he drugged Peter because he’s unconscious… and… and I ran here and…” Skye is stuttery rambling mess. May has never seen her react this way to anything before. Skye usually acts to mature despite barely being an adult. She’s 19 and yet she could beat most shield agents already. It’s odd.

Natasha stays in the background, but she does reach for her guns. Counting the bullets she’s got. Coulson doesn’t seem faced at all, he works on instinct.

“May, it’s okay if you need to sit this one out-“ he looks to her, but she shakes her head violently. If Skye’s right, and Ward is hydra, she can’t afford to site this one out.

“That won’t be needed” she keeps her voice steady, leaving all emotion behind. Like she hasn’t just confessed to killing a little girl. Shot through the abdomen. “I’m not sitting this one out”.

Coulson just gives her a short nod, “I was hoping you’d say that. Okay, so. May, we need to make sure we have control over the bridge. Get a call down to HQ, inform them of the situation. If you can, let’s Stark know that we might be a little later than first planned. I’m not letting Ward back into Shield”. May pushes herself to her feet, nodding before Coulson is even done speaking.

May doesn’t wait to hear what Natasha, Coulson and Skye will do. She moves. The faster they get a message out, the faster they can get backup.

If Ward isn’t too stressed out after having been caught by Skye, and has used his time well, he could already have killed rest of the team. He could already be at the bridge, blaming somebody else for what he’s done. He could be in the prosses of taking the plane down for all they know. And while May would never tell anyone, the plane means too much for her to see it be destroyed by hydra’s hand.

She trusts that the others are right behind her as she makes her way down the corridor, towards the lounge area, and towards the cockpit. She trusts them to have her back.

She doesn’t look over her shoulder to meet Coulson’s eyes for confirmation. She doesn’t listen for the quick footsteps behind her. She doesn’t hesitate for as much as a second. She doesn’t have the luxury. She doesn’t have time to waste.

May is almost surprised to see Ward still on the ground, hovering over the boy. The boy, who in that moment looked to terribly small. Like a kid. He’s just a kid.

She stops in her tracks. Ward, like herself, is taught never to leave their weapons behind. She needs to get past him to the cockpit, but… there’s a risk with Peter there. Unable to defend himself. Unable to fight, or to run. To get away. Out of the fire zone. Out of battle. If she shows that she knows his secret, she risks the life of a child. A child hero, sure. But still just a child.

Coulson catches up with her in seconds, probably thinking similar things. But pushes May forward anyways. Into action. Natasha following her close, Skye holding back.

May doesn’t exactly like the situation, and while she’d rather stay behind. Fight with all her power, and her hate towards hydra, she has her orders. Secure the bridge. Secure the bridge. Secure the bridge. She repeats that in her head, over and over. She just needs to trust her team.

She sticks to the side of the plane, keeping as much space between Ward and herself as she can. Hands slightly up, letting him know there’s no threat. No gun, no knife. No anything. Just her. She doesn’t say anything. The others doesn’t either.

She runs through the lounge area. She hears fast steps behind her, making their way to their spots. She hears Natasha worried voice, and the distant sounds of a battle starting. But she keeps going.

May let’s herself almost fall into her piolet seat in the cockpit before she can even register that she’s there. It’s so built into her routine by now, that she doesn’t need to think. Flicking the switch that locks the bulletproof cockpit door is an extra step, but one she’s willing to take. Grasping the controls tight with one hand, letting the auto piolet turn off, waiting for the small sounds that tells her she’s in control. The three beeps make her straightens even more than she probably did before. It’s a plane, it’s life or death. May knows how to fly it.

“This is SHIELD 6,1, 6. calling HQ. Agent Melinda May here. Do you read me?”. She keeps her voice steady as she pulls the plane off it’s original course. “This is SHIELD 6, 1, 6. Do you read me?”.

“Agent Triplett here. We read you loud and clear SHIELD 6, 1, 6. What’s the situation?” Trip’s voice returns over the radio in the matter of seconds. May is almost relieved that it’s him and not one of their other agents who’s in control of the radio. It makes it easier.

“Agent Triplett, glad to hear your voice” she starts it out calmly, the situation is somewhat under control. Nobody, expect possibly Peter, is currently in life threatening danger. She adjusts altitude anyways, bringing them down, closer to the ocean. “Agent Grant Ward has gone rough. It’s too early to rule out mind control, but we need a cell ready at HQ for when we land. Keep backup at standby, we might want an escort”.

There’s a beat of deep silence before Trip responds. May doesn’t blame him. Trip hasn’t been a part of their team for long. Still working solo mission from time to time too. But Trip and Ward knows each other, has worked together a handful of times. It’s hard to hear that the person you’ve been fighting side by side with, has been compromised. Even more so, knowing it’s barely been… what, six or seven months since hydra was first shown to have infiltrated shield. They thought they fixed it. Thought they had it under control. And now Ward.

“That’s… uh. Understood, Agent May. A cell is being prepared as we speak. Backup ready, just give us a sign and they can in the air in less than 7 and a half minutes” Trip’s voice is shaky.

“Thank you, agent Triplett,” May sighs, “And be careful, Trip. There’s no telling who we can trust”.

There’s another beat of silence, so long and so quite that for a moment May fears the connection is lost. And then, with a voice that doesn’t sounds panicked, but not exactly good another Trip rasps out “Of course May. I’ll be careful”.

May let’s the connection go, watching as the line goes dead. That was the easy part, honestly. It’s the part that would have come sooner or later anyways. She doubts Ward could have kept this a secret for so long without, you know, revealing it at some point.

The harder part, calling Stark and explaining why his two teammates might be a little late. Stark, who doesn’t trust shield with his life, and hates Fury more than the plague.

In all honesty, May finds it almost funny as she makes the call.

***

“…Okay, so. May, we need to make sure we have control over the bridge. Get a call down to HQ, inform them of the situation. If you can, let’s Stark know that we might be a little later than first planned. I’m not letting Ward back into Shield” Natasha watches as Agent May pushes herself up, nodding stiffly and out the room in seconds. Natasha tightens the grip on her guns, unlocking the safety and looks towards Coulson waiting for orders. “Agent Romanov, we need to get young Mr. Parker to safety. We don’t know if he’s hurt, so the lab seems like the best option. Jemma can check him over, and the lab can be locked down”.

Natasha gives a similarly stiff nod as Agent May had done early seconds earlier. Ready to bail just as quickly as she had, not wanting to waste a single second.

“What about me?” Skye’s voice is better now that she’s gotten her breath back. Calmer and collected, though Natasha doubts that’s the reality. She isn’t a spy for nothing. “I’m not sitting this one out Coulson. I can’t stand and watch my cru… m-my friend gets hurt”.

Coulson doesn’t look up as he pulls his desk drawer open to fetch a gun and a knife of his own. “You’re in no condition to fight Skye. You are going down into the lab, together with Fitz and Simmons. And you stay there. That is an order, okay?” Skye nods, but looks like she desperately wants to argue to Coulson. “If Ward manages to get me and Natasha” he then goes onto add, “You’ll be the last defense should he attempt to get into the lab”.

The last part seems to make Skye stand a little taller. Natasha get’s that, she remembers what it’s like being seen for something useful. Something more than an agent whose life doesn’t matter. She’s worked for the red room after all. She’s done bad stuff. Solo looked at as a killer machine.

“What about you sir? What’s your roll in all of this” Natasha meets Coulson eyes as he loads the gun, and too unlocks the safety.

“He’s my agent. I placed my trust in him, handpicked him actually. I’m the reason he’s on board this plane in the first place” Coulson’s voice is cold in a way Natasha has rarely ever seen before. “I’m going to make sure he’ll never hurt anyone else, ever again. Even if that’s the last thing I’ll ever do”. Skye seems taken aback by the harshness, but Natasha knows better than to judge Coulson’s choices and just nods stiffly.

Coulson is the first to follow Agent May’s tracks out into the hallway, Natasha next, with Skye close by in her shadow. Flanking her like a young child clinging to their mother.

Agent May is already halfway across the lounge area as Natasha catches up with them. Ordering Skye to stay back, as her and Coulson made their own moves. One at a time. Natasha searching the room for any sight of the brown curls attached to the teenage boy. Hoping that Ward had yet to do any more harm than what might, or might not, already be there.

She watches as Coulson doesn’t hesitate with his first attack towards Ward. Which, she guesses is partly to prevent him from getting an idea about what their doing, and therefor having the upper hand. And partly to get Ward away from the young boy laying across the floor.

Even from a distant Natasha can see the pale skin of the boy, he’s eyes closed. And honestly, Natasha isn’t sure at first if she see’s his chest moving up and down as an indication of breathing. His lungs expanding and ‘despanding’?

Natasha runs forwards, placing her hands over the edge of the couch in the middle of the room. Using the strength of her arms to push herself into a small flip over the couch. Rolling slightly as she lands on the floor on the other side. Couch tipping behind her. Coulson and Ward in hand-to-hand combat just slightly by her side. Coulson between Ward and herself. And Natasha pushes herself to last few feet towards the unconscious boy.

Up close she can feel relief run through her body as the sight of Peter’s chest moving. She can hear strained breaths, that seems almost slow and sluggish. But their there. That’s a good thing. Even if it seems like his body is fighting for every breath.

She knows, in a battlefield, there isn’t a lot of time to work with. She knows she should run.

She doesn’t right away. Natasha places to fingers securely against Peter’s neck. Just below the back of his jar, feeling for the small beet that indicates his pules, in the carotid artery.

If she thought the breathing was bad, the whole, pules thing is even worse. It’s flickering under her fingers, inhumanly slow, almost nonexistent. And Natasha can only hope it’s due to his mutation. That this isn’t some hidden injury somewhere under his science pun t-shirt, or internal bleeding from his fall to the floor. Even if he had insisted earlier that he had a healing factor.

In a desperate, small hope that she can somehow wake Peter up, so she won’t have to carry his weight she rubs his rather hardly down his chest. Just between his ribs, just above his heart. Not enough to breath anything, CPR isn’t needed… yet. But it’s sometimes enough to bring someone into the land of the living. Even if said person is barely even there.

Natasha curses herself when there isn’t as much as groan.

At her side, Ward is pushed to the floor by Coulson. The vibrations shooting through the floor. A reminder that Natasha needs to get moving as she get’s to her feet and picks Peter up.

It’s more comfortable, probably for both if she could carry him bridle style. He’s small, relatively light. Really she could. But this isn’t about comfort. It’s about speed. So, she throws Peter’s torso over her right shoulder. Her arm between his legs, and with said hand, grabbing onto Peter’s own right hand, preventing him from sliding down backwards.

It used to be called the fireman’s carry or fireman’s lift and is possibly the only thing from the red room she still uses on the regular. It’s just, easier. It allows anyone to carry deadweight on their own, without breaking themselves.

For Natasha, it allows her to move more freely as she makes it towards Skye and the stairs. Only briefly looking back to watch Ward and Coulson get back to their feet.

Turning back around, she gently pushes Skye downwards on the stairs. Silently asking her to go first. But Skye watches Peter’s limp body with wide eyes. “Is… is he…”.

Natasha gives a short nod, before pushing to Skye again. This time with a little more force. “He’ll be fine” she promises. She hopes that’s true.

She has no way of knowing for sure. No way to tell what kind of drug, or possibly poison Ward has injected Peter with. No way of telling how said drug might affect his small body. But she does know that Shield scientist as smart. They can do, almost anything. She just hopes Agent Simmons, Jemma, has enough training and practice to be useful.

Skye moves downwards on the stairs. Quick steps that make Natasha almost worried she might fall. But Natasha follows suit almost as easily. Down onto the lower level of the plane.

Towards the lab. Towards safety.

When Natasha were Peter’s age, she had killed thousands of people. She’d… never had a chance to be a kid. To hang out with friends after school, go to café’s and drink hot chocolate. Ice skating in the winter in the park. Or go shopping for new shoes of cloths. She didn’t get to play games, or read fantasy books, or watch movies dreaming herself away to a different world. She didn’t get to be a kid, she was asked to grow up before she was ready. And she’d never questioned whether that was right, or whether that was wrong. She’d just done it. No questions asked.

Then Clint had shown up, a mission to kill her. And he’d been so close, before realizing that she was nothing more than Peter were now. Nothing more than Skye, or Fitz, or Jemma.

She’d worked with adults since she joined shield. Some really old, some not so old. But all adults.

Here, now… on a plane with a teen over her shoulder, in danger because of her choice of recruiting him, she wonders if she ever really left the red room’s ranks. If this, has all been a game right from the start, to get her here with the kid.

And she swears under her breath, as she pushes into the lab. That she’ll make sure Peter doesn’t go through what she did. That Peter get’s a chance to be a kid.

She’ll train him.

She’ll protect him.

And, most importantly…

She’ll respect every choice he makes.

If that’s running around in a suit of spandex, she’ll watch over him like a guardian angle.

If that’s being a kid, having fun, watching moves and playing Lego, she’ll keep her distance. Watching from the sideline. Never push him beyond his capabilities.

Maybe that way, she can get ride of a little bit of the blood on her hands.

Notes:

The noise is echoing in my brain now, fifteen minutes later. The blue, blinking, bright lights in front of my bedroom window has only just left. It's bad... but I know that by morning, or at the latest lunch time tomorrow, they'll be home again. My mom and dad. Because it's happened more times than I can count. Yet my own heart skips a beat, knowing that some day... she won't be that lucky.

Posting this because I can't sleep. The worry in my stomach keeps me up at night. Because I know, one day I'll wake up and my mom won't be here. Because she's sick, and nothing can fix it...

She's had surgery twice. And they tell us it will help. But it doesn't...

Chapter 7: I always had a fetish for murder and death

Notes:

Second last chapter :P

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“And Fury thought I was bad” Tony huffs out a breath, that echoes through the cockpit. “If the one-eyed sky was still alive, he should look back at his own agency. If I’m a mess, I don’t know what that is”. May can almost picture Tony’s characteristics smirk, and the typical eye roll. But there’s no anger in his words like she might have expected.

“I think everyone currently at shield doubted Fury and his choices once in a while” Melinda shrugs, despite knowing Tony won’t be able to see it. “But as you can probably guess your backup might be late to the party”.

She can hear a muffled swear over the comes, but it’s so low that she can’t make out the words. “Sounds like it, Agent May” there’s a short break, “Just bring them here alive, please. I high doubt Ross would be happy about Rogers and his emo boyfriend getting away, we really need the extra help. We where already understaffed and now… Jeez…”.

“Trust me. They’re in good hands” or at least so she thinks. But said good hands had included Ward less than 15 minutes earlier, so maybe she couldn’t be so sure.

***

Skye almost stumbles down the lower part of the stairs, partly due to lack of focus, and partly due to the sheer speed to runs down with. Natasha following closely behind her, breathing down her neck making her skin feel almost freezing cold as they get into the hanger.

Natasha doesn’t wait a single moment more than she needs to with pushing Skye through the only partially open lab door, and somehow manages with a large bump against the glass to make it close again before it’s actually designed to. Skye really needs to learn how to do that. Because yes, it’s cool. There’s no arguing about that.

Jemma and Fitz look almost shocked, like this isn’t routine by now, at the sight of the spy. But the lab table in the middle is clearer faster than Skye thinks it’s ever happened before.

“He’s been injected with an unknown substance” Natasha’s voice isn’t commanding, but there’s no room for emotions in either, as she with careful movements get’s Peter placed on the metal table. “We believe it to be some sort of drug, could be a quick acting poison though. Slow, almost nonexistent pulse. Strained breathing. He’s completely out cold”.

Jemma seems almost frozen in time be she stammers “I usually only work on dead people”.

“Agent Simmons” Jemma eyes snaps from Peter’s clammy, sweaty skin to Natasha face at the sound of her voice. The urgency clear to everyone in the room, and Skye feels a need to take a step back so that she won’t be in the way, should chaos break lose. “You’re our best beat in helping him. With his mutated biology we have no way of knowing how he’ll be affected by wither substance is currently making it’s way through his system”.

“I… yes, of course, I…” Jemma stops in the middle of the room, taking a few deep breaths before moving closer to the unresponsive body on the table. Firstly, checking the pules, soon followed by Jemma placing her hand just below Peter’s nose, feeling for breath. “Fitz, could you get me a stethoscope?”.

Fitz moves quickly through the room, with no hesitation. But Skye can she his hands shake slightly, maybe in fear or confusion. But it’s still steady enough that he doesn’t fumble for more than second when he pulls out a drawer. Searching desperately for the instrument.

“Agent Skye?” her name takes her by surprise, but maybe it shouldn’t have. “Do you have a weapon on you, should you need it?”.

Natasha moves up to her side, breaking the bubble and entering her personal space in a way only few people is ever allowed to. She’s pretty sure Natasha is doing in on purpose, maybe to throw her off, distract her from what’s happening just a few feet away. And maybe it works. At the very least it makes Skye reach for her gun, only to find it isn’t in her belt as she gives a short shake of her head. Looking up to catch a glimpse of Natasha vibrant read hair.

She isn’t actually sure where she last had her gun. It wasn’t in the lab, that’s for sure. That means it’s probably in her bunk, upstairs, on the other end of the fight between Coulson and Ward.

Unless Ward has been smart enough to go through her things to take it before he did his little… evil reveal. She doubts that. With how he played it off, it wouldn’t make sense for him to do so.

Natasha pulls one of her own guns, pulling the top part back once and lets it spring back into place with an obnoxious click that makes everyone in the room stop what their doing for a moment before they resume it just as quickly. They know that sound well, Skye probably even better. It still echoes in her head, followed by the gunshot to her abdomen. She still wakes up, phantom pains in her gut, and a feeling of absolute isolation. A reminder of how close she’d been to death. And a reminder that she’d been alone when it happened.

Natasha spins the loaded gun in her hand, before holding it out towards Skye with a nod. The handle towards her, for easy transfer between the two.

She reaches out letting her fingers clasp around the cold metal of the clearly high-quality gun. “I can’t take this… it’s… what if you need it?”.

Natasha just shakes her head, “Don’t hesitate to use it if you need to. I can always replace it”.

Skye let’s the weight of the weapons calm her, just slightly. Before placing it in her belt. Feeling the gun against her hip, securely held on. Knowing that she’s not completely unprepared for a fight, if that ever happened. Not that she’s sure she’d be able to actually shoot Ward.

They both return their attention towards Jemma he’s learning slowly over Peter, listening to his breath and heartbeat. Eye’s closed as she focuses.

“It’s no uncommon for people who’s injected with an anesthesia like drug to have partial or complete paralyzes of their muscles. Including lungs and heart” she says with a frown, “Fitz? Do we have any oxygen in here?”.

Skye watches as Natasha moves towards the enters and exit of the lab once more. Pulling her second gun from her own belt, preparing it, like she’d prepared the one Skye now holds in her possession. “You three needs to lock down the lab” Natasha voice is suddenly commanding, a… not stark change, but a change non the less. “I don’t care who and who you don’t trust, but you won’t let anyone in here, except Coulson. Injured or uninjured. That’s an order”.

“What in bloody hell are you talking about?” Fitz voice echoes as he comes out from the storage area, “Are we under attack?”.

“Fitz” Jemma’s voice cut sharply through the room “Quite swearing and come help me”.

Natasha gives Fitz and sharp look that all but say I-do-not-have-time-for-this-right-now before she pushes herself through the lab door and makes her way up the stairs as Skye activates the lab’s lockdown protocol. Preventing the door from being opened on the outside.

“I don’t swear that much” Fitz argues as Natasha has left, Jemma placing an oxygen mask over Peter’s face that quickly starts to fog up for each of his slow breaths. Jemma fingers never leaving his pulse point.

Jemma does look up though, “Oh so that you don’t?”.

Fitz looks almost hurts as he nods as her with an awkward smile. Jemma retuning it just as awkwardly with a small bump to her shoulder that comes off… weird. Honestly.

“I think Fitz is right on this one Jemma” Skye cuts in helpfully, “Of all the supernatural stuff, all the alien illnesses and magical space rocks…” she shrugs, “The most unrealistic part is honestly, that Fitz isn’t swearing every two seconds”.

The laugh that escapes Jemma’s lips is startling to everyone in the room at first. But then, soon enough all three of them allows the tenseness to seep out of their shoulders as they chuckle lightly, with a small smile on each of their faces.

When Skye had woken that morning, the sun streaming in through the windows and the smell of freshly baked pancakes had filled her nose, she’d never expected that day to go this way.

It was a easy trip from HQ to some smaller mission the following day in Euro. And getting to meet not one, but two superheroes because they needed a ride, that had only added to the excitement in her stomach.

People says there’s always peace before the storm.

Skye doesn’t know if that’s always true, or if there’s a smaller storm before the bigger storm. But she does know that right now, in this small moment… there’s peace.

There’s laughter and fun and smile. Jemma doesn’t seem worried about Peter’s steadily improving condition, with just the added oxygen.

They chuckles are cut off by the repeated sound of gunshots echoing throughout whole the plane.

Soon replaced with a heavy, ere silence.

***

“He’s my agent. I placed my trust in him, handpicked him actually. I’m the reason he’s on board this plane in the first place. I’m going to make sure he’ll never hurt anyone else, ever again. Even if that’s the last thing I’ll ever do” and he means those words. He knows Skye, Natasha, even May would likely fight him on it. He also knows that they know better than to say anything out loud.

Had there been signs, before today, that Ward was working with Hydra? Had there been any crucial information, that Phil as a director had missed somewhere?

He wasn’t just responsible for his small team on the bus anymore. He was responsible for all of shield. And he’d let a spy, an undercover Hydra spy, live under the same roof as them for over a year, for crying out loud. Never realizing that something was amiss.

The rest of his team had never noticed either, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, that somewhere along the line, Coulson had let his relationship with his team cloud his judgement. And while that was fine with someone like May, someone he’d known for a long, long time, it wasn’t as okay with the rest of them. With Fitz and Jemma and Skye he needed to be objective. That meant Ward too… so how had he ever slipped through the cracks and forgotten about that around the younger male?

To add salt into the wound, he probably should have expected it. With Ward’s S.O. being hydra and all that. That had been a headache he couldn’t run from…

But Ward had also done so many good things. So many amazing, and awesome things. Saving Jemma from actual suicide out the end of the plane, kept Fitz safe during that one mission, where there wasn’t a planned way for them to get out. He… he’d been a part of the team.

And now? Now Phil didn’t know what to think anymore.

The only thing standing essentially clear right now, was to make sure his team made it out of this alive. And so, Phil had to jump into action.

He’s in the hallway before Natasha can even get out. He knows their right there, their body heat almost pressed right against him. Their breaths small and quiet as to not be caught by Ward. May is already at the door, clearly having eyes on the target. Targets? Phil gives her that small, friendly push right under her shoulder blades in her back, giving her a sign that he’s got her back.

May runs. She keeps her distance from Ward, but she bolts. Her boots thudding loudly against the floor as she makes her way towards the cockpit. And now that she’s gone, Phil can see their target too. Now alert from Agent May’s sudden appearance.

The young boy on the ground is a little too close for comfort if Phil is forced to really fight Ward. There’s a risk that the boy could get caught in crossfire, or that Ward would go for hurting Peter instead of going towards his opponent. Aware, that Phil would hesitate to put the kid in any more danger than he already was. It was basic knowledge and training.

Phil moves.

Slowly at first, taking steady steps into the room, and closer towards Ward. Slowly taking in the room, every surface he could use as ground under his feet. Every object that could be used for cover. Going into a fight blind, with someone as skilled as Ward, would be stupid.

It’s almost like the world stands still, as Phil watches Ward turn around. A gist in his eyes, that less him a battle is impossible to stop now.

Then, with a snap of his fingers so powerful it could destroy the universe, everything snapped back into normal speed. Phil went from slow and steady, to fast, less steady, but confident.

He slides between two couches, over the wooden flooring, faster than he probably should have. He it wouldn’t give him any advantages other than the possibility of being fast enough to catch Ward before he was ready. Steadies himself just enough to fight, and crashes against Ward like a wild animal. No real strategy in mind. Nothing but a contact reminder at the boy near his feet.

Ward loses his balance for barely a second, but it’s enough for Phil to grab the front of his shirt and push himself between Peter and Ward. Acting as a human shield.

By his side, the couch falls over with Natasha weight, as he feels the wind of her move push lightly against his pant leg. And Phil pushes forward, a small attempt of creating a bigger distance between Ward and Peter, but also to give the spy a bit more breathing room.

The small moment is seemingly enough to give Ward an opening, as he with a somewhat panicked, but also clever move, slams his hand against Phil’s wrist. The other hand grabbing around the soft fabric of his jacket, forcing Phil to let go of the front of his shirt. Before he throws a hard punch towards Phil, who with ease leans out of it, without moving away from his spot between him and Natasha.
His own hand grasp around Ward’s outstretched arm, pulling him a little closer to Phil himself. Before in one smooth motion, pulling Ward up and backwards over his shoulder. Letting the body flop before his feet, before letting himself crash down on top of him. In one of the more, uh… sensitive areas. Knowing the air out of Ward, allowing Phil to restrain his wrists. Keeping him down against the floor. Unable to, for a least a little bit, to attack.

As if it’s the opening Natasha has been waiting on, she pushes to her feet with the elegance of a dancer. Pulling Peter’s limb body over her shoulder and runs.

Halfway jumping or running over Ward’s feet. Towards the stairs that leads to the lab, where Skye is waiting in the opening. Hidden in the shadows. In safety.

And with Natasha and Peter out the way too, there’s one less thing for Phil to worry about. It’s no longer protect that runs through his head, it’s retainment. But the position he’s in is weird and uncomfortable. It leaves no opening for Ward to attack, but neither an opening for Coulson to probably restrain him either.

So he let’s go of Ward’s wrist, pushing to his feet as Ward regains his breath.

“Why are you doing this Ward?” Coulson voice is filled with venom, with acid that can prickle through the floors of even the strongest building, as they leave his mouth, “What are they giving you that Shield can’t provide? Money? Better tools and gear?”.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes meetings Phil’s. “Nothing” his voice is as sugar sweet as it’s always been. Like nothing has changed. “Other than a common goal”.

“And shield couldn’t give you a common goal?” Ward shrugs as he pushes himself to his feet. “We protect people. We fight for what’s right. We kill as a last resort. Wasn’t that good enough?”.

Ward sends Phil a painful smirk, “I suppose I had a rough childhood”.

“We all know your little pity story, Agent Ward” Phil raises his hands in front of his chest, “I just don’t see what the kid has to do with anything”.

“Hydra’s made a deal with someone who calls themselves department X. They want the kid, and Hydra want their winter solider back. It’s a win, win situation for everyone” Ward takes a step closer “But you”.

“And what do you get out if it?” Phil takes a step back, creating spacing between the two.

Ward shrugs, letting his fingers run over his weapons belt. “What do I get?” he roles his eyes and takes the knife into his hands, gripping tightly around it. “I get to see you die”. And with that he charges towards Coulson with all the speed and strength, his young, health body can muster. The knife coming dangerously close to Phil’s throat, which he barely avoids leaning backwards, almost going down in bridge. Before he grabs the hand Ward holds the knife in.

“A shame” Coulson replies sheepishly “I got a coffee date with May I wouldn’t want to miss”. In a twist he pulls the knife out of Ward’s hands, throwing it aside. Followed by his right leg sweeping under Ward’s in an attempt to make him lose his footing. But only ends Phil on the floor instead.

“Didn’t think May liked coffee” Grant’s voice laughs from above, making Phil wanting to dry the smirk expression of his face.

With Phil on the floor, Ward doesn’t waste any time before his next attack. Planting a solid hit in Phil’s lower stomach, that makes him cramp slightly. Gasping for a mouthful of air, before the next kick. And the next kick. The pain streaming into his body for each hit. Deeper and deeper into his bones as he can taste the faint taste of iron or metal in the back of his mouth.

As Ward kicks again, Phil grasps out for his pant leg. From there he has to move quickly, as he, somehow despite his old body, manages to do a small backwards flip that pulls Ward to the ground. Phil himself lands slightly crouched in his knees a few feet away. “You got a point” he shrugs, “Then again. I didn’t think you’d like hydra either”.

Ward makes a similar flip to get up himself. Landing in front of Coulson with cold eyes. “I guess everybody has their secrets”.

From there they jump into a quick paste sparing round. A few kicks there, a few hits there. A large bruise forming around Ward’s eye, as it slowly starts swelling. Phil can feel his heart race faster and faster for every move. The metallic taste only grows but it doesn’t stop him from his battle. Neither of them falter, neither willing to give up without a fight.

Maybe, that’s why Phil had trusted him. The never-ending battle the seemed to rage behind Ward’s eyes. A sense of security around him, knowing he was ready for battle.

A solid hit, Phil’s knuckles meeting with Ward’s jar. The sound of flesh against flesh echoing in both their ears, and Phil can almost feel the jar snap under his touch. It only seems to make that fire burn ever more brightly. Hatred deep in his eyes, as Ward once more attacks. As they both end up tumbling over the second couch, the one Natasha didn’t take down. Ward landing back first against the ground, but before Phil can get his baring back from a powerful collision between the floor and his head, Ward has pushed himself on top of him, pinning him down towards the floor.

The cold floor pressed against Coulson’s cheek makes him shiver. He’s pretty sure he can feel the edge of a chipped tooth somewhere in the back of his mouth, but at this point there’s so much blood in there too that he can’t tell for sure.

And maybe it won’t ever matter.

Ward has a gun. Of course, Ward has a gun. Nobody as shield goes to a battle without a gun. Phil hasn’t either, but with Ward on his back he won’t be able to pull it out of his belt.

The barrel is presses securely against Phil’s temple. Cold and hard against his skin. “Any last words, Director?”.

Phil isn’t exactly known for giving up. He hasn’t, not quite yet. But he knows a losing battle when he sees one. And this is it. Even if he won’t accept it as he struggles in Ward’s hold that only seems to tighten more as he does so. The attempt of getting the gun away is weak and he feel uncoordinated. Stupid.

And so he stops fighting. He let’s his head rest on the floor, his eyes sliding shot. And then, he waits for the bullet to make it’s way through his head. Knowing that Natasha, Skye and May will revenge him. That they won’t let Ward go free ever again.

The bullet never comes.

Exactly how long Natasha has been watching he doesn’t know. But he does know the sound of her guns almost better than he knows the sound of his own. It’s distinct.

He doesn’t hear most of the shots, only the deep ringing in his ears. But he does feel when Ward’s grip goes weak and he takes his chance to push Ward off him and onto the floor. Pushing himself up, before placing a solid kick to his head and jar. If it wasn’t broken before, it surely is now. Ward’s eyes flutter close, and Phil can’t help but sigh as he watches the floor getting stained with blood. Blood from the bullet wound in Ward stomach, not Phil’s head.

He shakes his head as the spy who watches from a distance. “I had that”.

“Sure you did” Natasha replies, locking her gun and pushes it back into her belt. “Better luck next time, director”.

Phil nods to himself, or maybe it’s to Natasha. “Thank you. That…” he waves his hand around over the limb body “Was a pretty good save”.

“Wouldn’t want you to die again, would we?” Natasha smirks lightly at him.

“I suppose not”.

Notes:

I really hate fight scene's. It was a mess to write, and while I hope it come across somewhat decent, I really fear it isn't good enough.

Anyways... I hope you enjoyed it.

Chapter 8: To be human

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Peter wakes up slowly. The bed beneath him feels soft and comfortable, the sun shinning through a nearby window is heating up his face in it’s powerful raise of light. He can distantly smell the bitter, dark roasted coffee. Voice’s echoing around him, a man, and a woman. So softly spoken, as if trying to prevent Peter from being woken by them. It was peaceful.

His buddy felt groggy, his head fuzzy and his eyelids heavy. But for a few moments he allowed himself to be pulled into a small, fulfilling sense of security. Like waking in the apartment in Queens on a Saturday morning, before Ben was killed. A whole day waiting in front of the three of them, with the ability to do anything their heart might desire. Before the sun would inevitably go down over the city, and they’d curl up on the couch with salted popcorn in a bowl, and a movie playing. There Peter would wake up, his head curled in Ben’s lab the morning following, his fingers running through Peter slowly growing locks of hair.

He allowed himself to drift in that reality for a while, knowing that when his eyes snapped open, he’d be staring into the pale, white celling. That the peace, and the quietness, would be gone.

Or would he?

As Peter’s sense’s slowly but surely started up again, rebooting like an older laptop, slow and noisy, he knew he wasn’t in the apartment in Queens. He would wake up to the white celling looking down on him, and May wouldn’t be waiting in the kitchen with freshly made breakfast.

The smell was wrong. Not the comforting sente of May’s perfume that had a soft tint of fruit that his aunt always worse to hide the permanent smell of smoke and burned food that strung to her and the apartment like a ghost.

It wasn’t his bedsheets that was placed beneath him, no… the fiber where almost to soft to be his. The bed too new, too different. How had he ended up here?

And maybe the biggest contributing factor that made Peter doubt his whereabouts, where the lack of noise. The busy New York street below his window was never quiet. That weren’t a moment of silence between alien invasions and dog attacks on their local news paper boy. It just didn’t happen. But here? It was eerily silent. There where the voice’s, yes. But why where his ears filled with the noise of creaking metal? Of propellers? And… and that hiss. Right above his face, it sounded in a rhythmic tone. Over and over. Hiss, pause, hiss, pause, hiss.

And really thinking about it, what was the hard feeling on his face? The object, clearly making the noise, digging into his skin over his nose and mouth. Scratching for each breath he took, as it shifter ever so slightly.

With his sense’s coming back online, so did his body. A gnawing emptiness in his stomach. A faded headache just between his eyes. A feeling of heaviness spread out through his arms and legs. Tingling in his fingers and toes. His mouth feels like drained sandpaper, his lips chapped.

And then, there… a slight vibration at the back of his neck, as everything came back to him. As he snapped upright, his eyes open wide but blinded it the bright sun, his lungs breathing in and out in heavy gasps. His lungs burning for every breath, hurting, as he scrambles with his hands to pulls the oxygen mask off. To get it away and gone.

The vibrations isn’t a warning this time around though. More like… and advanced state of alertness. A… a state he was relativity happy about. Cause as he blinked against the harsh sun, it became clear that the world, really wasn’t clear. His vision blurry, his hearing muffled.

He isn’t in the apartment with May on a normal morning, he’s on a plane over the ocean, on the bus 6, 1, 6. Faraway from the city he loves and knows.

It isn’t a school day, classes waiting for him from the early morning to the late afternoon. No, Peter has a mission. He’s been recruited by Black Widow who showed up in his apartment, a promise of training, of better gear, and a promise of safety. A promise of having someone there, who’s willing to listen when things go south. To catch you when the web misses it’s target, and every seems impossible.

“Peter?” a soft female voice comes from his side, footsteps moving closer with hasty clicks against the wooden flooring. “Are you with us now?”, closer.

Peter gives a shaky nod, as the girl slides into his view. Sits down on the bed in front of him, making it dip slightly where she sits. Her brown hair hangs over her shoulder, in soft, large curls. Shinning in the sun’s orange light the either tells Peter it’s early morning, or late afternoon. Her brown eyes, the freckles across her cheeks and nose makes her look so beautiful. Like a guardian angle sent down from heaven, down to look after him, and protect him. Save him.

Her hands grab around Peter’s carefully, as she meets his eyes. A tint of worry, creating lines above her eyes, the wrinkles protruding from her forehead. But Peter just nods, as he finds himself unable to form words. His throat so dry with dust.

He nods, and she moves her one hand to his check. Her fingers running carefully against his sensitive skin and he relaxes under her touch. And soon her other hands move up to Peter’s second cheek. Peter’s own hands moves to grasp around her wrist, ever so gently. Too aware of the strength he holds, of the hurt he could cause. All the pain he did cause.

“I was so worried about you” Skye suddenly spills out before pulling her hands away in almost shock. Desperately, in a quick pace fidgeting with the edge of her hair. A nervous behavior Peter has seen so many do, yet for Skye it seems to out of character. “You where just… just laying there. So pale, and barely breathing. And, and we didn’t know… what happened. But Ward was there” Skye’s eyes darken at the name, “And he… he did all this. I… I thought you where going to die. And then the gun shots, and then nothing, and Coulson and Natasha never came and… and…”.

Peter stops her, a hand halfway in the air. “Breath Skye”. He let’s his own fingers linger over Skye’s hand for a moment, before with such care taking it and placing it over his chest. “Still breathing”.

As she looks up at her, he sees the faint lines of wet tears. The puffy read around her eyes. The sorrow and the panic all so deep in her, like an ocean. No… no deep in her like a mountain. Ready to break apart and crumble at any moment.

What makes him do it, he isn’t actually sure. Spider hormones and all, probably.

He let’s her hand rest on his chest, with his second hand he carefully places it on her cheek. Her skin smooth under his fingers, like a princess from fairytales. He meets her eyes, leaning closer towards her. The heat from her body slowly seeping into his shaky fingers, because he feels shaky and lightheaded. “I think I love you”.

Skye’s pupils dilate just a little, before whole the universe lights up inside of them. A whole galaxy filled with starts and planets, right here, right now. “I think I love you too”.

They each tilt their head slightly, letting their eyes flutter close against the sharp sun and leans. Leans closer and closer, until their noses meet, and Peter tilts his head just a little more. Until her soft lips meet his. Like firework in the night sky, the world pops into focus. A million violins playing above them in harmony, together, forever. Like it’s supposed to be.

The taste of her Chapstick, so sweat against his tastebuds. Skye relaxing, going completely slack in his arms, but he steadies her with a caring touch.

I kissed a girl and I liked it. The taste of her cherry chap stick. I kissed a girl just to try it! I hope Aunt May won’t mind it…

It’s like magic swirling through the air around them in powerful sparks of red and blue and white. Popping with smells of sense and feeling, that’s confusing and right all the same.

But you'll never be alone! I'll be with you from dusk till dawn, I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. Baby, I'm right here.

I'll hold you when things go wrong… I'll be with you from dusk till dawn, I'll be with you from dusk till dawn! Baby, I'm rig-.


“Erhm” Jemma’s voice pulls them out of it, pulling apart faster than should be humanly possible. So fast that Peter barely has a chance to find his balance without Skye there. The girl’s soft her brushing against his skin as she leaps up from the bed and a few feet away. Her cheeks blushing, her eyes shy. Peter can feel the heat in his own cheeks too, as he for the first time looks around what he suspects is the medical bay of the plane. Bus? It was the bus, right? “Welcome back to the land of the living, Peter. If you two aren’t too busy I’d like to check my patient over”. She stands in the door, watching with a soft smile. She doesn’t seem surprised or uncomfortable.

“Uhm, yes. Of course, Jemma. Uh, sorry about…” Peter waves his hand in the air, unsure what’s he’s even saying sorry for, then lets it fall into his lap.

Jemma shakes her head, “It’s quite alright. I’ve… walked in on worse. Let’s just say it like that”.

She moves to the side of the bed, as she starts to run over vitals on Peter. Listing to his heart and lungs, the cold metal against his chest sending shivers down his spine and skin. And he’s reminded, a little too deeply, that spiders cannot thermoregulate, and he really misses the hoodie he’s sure he’d been wearing earlier. Before… everything?

“Do you remember what happened? Agent Coulson would like a statement” Jemma pulls out a small Dictaphone as Peter nods slightly. Allowing it to record.

“I have this… danger sense” Peter starts to explain into the small mic. How Ward had set it off right away, but that Peter hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it came from or why. He talks about the lab, about how his sense had reacted. He talks about the living room. About the drug…

Jemma nods slowly as he talks. “Did he say anything that might tell you what he wanted?”.

Peter shrugs, attempting to piece the fuzzy moment before he’d been pulled into the darkness together. “He just said something about hydra and…” he stop, biting his lips and get’s the small tainted feeling, taste and smell of blood in his mouth. Thick and clumpy.

“And what, Peter?” Jemma places a careful hand on his shoulder. She’s professional in her white lab coat, but she’s still a friend to Peter.

And what? He told me my parents were killed by shield Peter thinks to himself, told me they where setup and Shield didn’t care to look into it is that what he’s going to reply? Blame them for all their lies and tricks? “And… and he talked about my parents. Said John Garrett had worked with them”. If Jemma knows it’s a lie she doesn’t say it. She just nods and ends the recording. He’s grateful for that. Grateful she doesn’t dig deeper. He isn’t sure what to think or what to believe about what Coulson had told him, or what Ward had told him. He didn’t know which was the truth and which where the lie. If he had to explain that to Jemma… he’d break apart.

“You’re right about the drug” Jemma goes on to explain, “It was a type of sedative created for enhanced people like Captain America and the Winter Solider. Caused a temporary paralysis to part of your body, but it should have worn of mostly by now. If not, it should have by the time we land in Berlin”.

“Does that mean I’m clearer?” Peter fidgets lightly, his hands twisting in each other.

Jemma nods and turns off the heart monitor connected to Peter. “If you don’t have any side effects like nausea, dizziness of a headache, I see no reason why you can’t fight” she pauses in the door, “But… I believe it might effect your enhanced healing abilities for a while, so be careful”.

Jemma walks out, most likely to find Coulson. Leaving Skye and Peter alone again.

***

Tony Stark is waiting at the ramp when they land in Germany in the early morning hours. 9 hours left to capture the roughs and take them into custody.

Peter had managed to get a few hours of rest in the medical bay after Jemma had left. Skye sitting by his side, hands running through his long, curly locks of golden-brown hair over and over as he’d fallen asleep. He’d been safe.

Now, standing here in Germany Peter can feel the event of the last twenty-four hours catch up with him. He feels exhausted. His muscles aching as he moves. But he also feels ready.

Ready for a battle, that might or might not even happen.

He wonders if Natasha feels tired too, standing at the edge of the plane ramp, watching Tony with unreadable eyes. If she is, she doesn’t show it. But the possibility that she’d gotten a little sleep while Peter had been knocked out cold was definitely there.

Tony Stark on the other hand, looked like shit. Dark bags under his eyes. He looked tired. His body slacking forward, his shirt wrinkled and stained with what Peter hopes is coffee.

“Good to see you Nat” Tony shakes her hand, somewhat weakly before he turns to Peter. “And you must be Peter Parker, Spider-man?”. Peter gives a soft nod towards the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, owner of Stark industries, superhero, Iron man. Because, jeez if this was any other day Peter would totally fanboy over this incredible meeting. “Nice to meet you. I got a suit for you, want to see it? Test it out before the big show?”.

“You…” Peter shakes his head, “You’ve made me a suit?!” and okay, maybe there’s space for a little bit of fanboying.

“I’m sure Mr. Parker would like to try out the suit” Coulson steps up next to the group of heroes, “But first there’s a few things we need to discuss. And” Coulson turns towards Peter “One of my agents would like to talk to you before we leave. Go on, we’ll be waiting”.

Coulson nods back to the plane where Peter can see Agent Melinda May standing, leaning against the staircase. Smiling softly at him. Nothing like she’d been earlier. And Peter wondered what had changed since then, what had made things different while he was out?

He’s back up the ramp in a few longs strids, the metal echoing and vibrating under his feet.

“Agent May?” Peter waves, “Coulson said you wanted to talk?”.

She nods distantly, “I just wanted to say sorry. I didn’t treat you right earlier, and I shouldn’t have doubted your judgement. Seeing such a… young boy like yourself, enhanced at that, it brought back memories. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you”.

Peter shakes his head and then, gives Melinda May a hug. She stiffens like a frozen fish in his arms, before she relaxes and folds her own arms over him. But it’s worth it. “I know what it’s like, holding onto painful memories. My uncle, Ben…” Peter sighs, “He was killed in a mugging, I had just gotten my powers and I… I could have stopped the man who did it. But I was scared, so I didn’t. And Ben died in my arms. I regret not doing what I thought was right. It could have saved him” he let’s go of the hug, “When you can do the things that I can. But you don’t… and then the bad things happen…” he shakes his head, “They happen because of you”.

“If you got the chance, would you revenge him?” Melinda’s voice is wary as she asks.

Peter shakes his head, “I did have the chance. Stumbled upon him two months ago, in some shady alleyway. I could have killed him, right then, right there. I would have, honestly. But I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do”.

***

As it turns out, Coulson wants to discuss a few details about the mission in Berlin. Not fighting related, but… he’s got new intel. Something Ward had said during a fight between then, hydra wanting their winter solider back.

That was a sign something more was up. Proving that little tingling voice in the back of Peter’s head that right from the beginning had felt like there were missing pieces.

“So hydra isn’t currently in control of James Barns?” Mr. Stark voice sounds almost disappointed. Maybe guilty. “Then who bombs the signing?”.

Coulson shrugs “We couldn’t get much information out of Ward. We’ll try again when he’s in a containment cell back as Shield HQ, but for now I don’t think there’s anything else we can do”.

“I supposed we’ll keep it in mind then” Mr. Stark pauses “I hate when kids are right”.

“Sometimes you just need a new perspective Mr. Stark” Peter can’t help but smirk.

And then they prepared for the most epic battle of Peter’s life. Spider-man’s first real mission, both as a hero, but also as a Shield agent. And if Jemma, Fitz and most importantly Skye watches through the security system of the suit, then who cares. It’s awesome having a gir-… it’s awesome having new friends. People who understand what it’s like being a hero…

To be continued…

*reads in narrator voice* Later, in “What if... Natasha recruited Spider-man?” the series: In a world where Black Widow recruits Spider-man instead of Tony, how will the battle in Berlin reshape itself? Who will be standing? Who will be the winning team? And can the simple change of Natasha and Peter’s new friends from agents of shield, fix the issues between the Avengers? Subscribe to find out. And, cut…

Notes:

*reads in narrator voice* Later, in “What if... Natasha recruited Spider-man?” the series: In a world where Black Widow recruits Spider-man instead of Tony, how will the battle in Berlin reshape itself? Who will be standing? Who will be the winning team? And can the simple change of Natasha and Peter’s new friend from agents of shield, fix the issues between the Avengers? Subscribe to find out. And, cut…

And my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ddringo

Notes:

Yes... I started something new without finishing up the old one. Kill me all you want :P