FIVE YEARS LATER
NATASHA ROMANOFF was stood at the counter, cutting up her peanut butter and jelly sandwich as she listened to everyone give their input on the video call they were on. She let out a small sigh and made her way back over to her desk, placing the plate down in front of her.
"Yeah, we boarded that highly-suspect warship Danvers pinged." Rocket said sarcastically.
"It was an infectious garbage scow." Nebula added.
"So thanks for the hot tip." The raccoon quipped.
Carol's hologram shrugged. "Well, you were closer."
"Yeah, and now we smell like garbage."
"Did you get a reading on those tremors?" Natasha asked Okoye, not caring to listen to the others bickering any longer.
"It was a mild subduction under the African plate." Okoye informed her.
"Do we have a visual? How are we handling it?" Natasha questioned.
"Nat." Okoye sighed. "It's an earthquake under the ocean. We handle it, by not handling it."
Natasha nodded slowly, realising her pushing for more answers on the subject was pointless. She turned her attention back towards Carol. "Carol, are we seeing you here next month?"
Carol shook her head. "Not likely."
"What? You gonna get another haircut?" Rocket taunted.
"Listen, fur face." Carol rolled her eyes. "I'm covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere. On thousands of planets."
"Alright, alright." Rocket gave a defeated nod. "That's a good point."
Carol looked back towards Natasha. "So you might not see me for a long time."
"Alright, uh, well..." Natasha ran a hand through her hair as she thought. "This channel's always active. So, if anything goes sideways... anyone's making trouble where they shouldn't, it comes through me."
Everyone on the call nodded simultaneously and agreed. They all gave each other a look before each leaving the call, their holograms disappearing.
Natasha sat down on her chair and placed her hands on the desk, looking down at her fingers as she fiddled with them. After a few more seconds of seeing one hologram still standing in the room, she looked up, seeing Rhodey still on the call.
"Where are you?" She asked the man.
"Mexico." Rhodey told her. "The Federales found a room full of bodies. Looks like a bunch of cartel guys... never even had a chance to get their guns out."
Natasha nodded and put her feet up on the desk, pushing away the thoughts of who was behind the killings. "It's probably a rival gang." She brushed it off.
"Except it isn't." Rhodey disagreed. "It's definitely Swan."
Natasha looked away from Rhodey and shook her head. "No, no, it must be some sort of mistake or maybe it's—"
"Natasha." Rhodey cut her off. "A few days ago, one of my guys found something at the latest crime scene. It was a chain, a necklace, and attached to it was—"
"A ring." Natasha finished his sentence. Rhodey nodded in agreement. "Wanda's ring..."
"Listen, what he's done here... what he's been doing..." Rhodey paused, his face scrunching at the thought of all the crime scenes. "The scenes that he's been leaving, some victims aren't even recognizable from all the damage. He's gone completely rogue and I gotta tell you, there's a part of me that doesn't even wanna find him."
Natasha's chest tightened at the description, her eyes starting to gloss over with tears. She took a few deep breaths to regain her composure, to hold up her strong front, but every day it was getting harder and harder for her. She was starting to lose hope.
"We've tried Nat, all of us have. Hell, even Tony couldn't get him to stay again for more than a month." Rhodey told her. "I don't think... I don't think we can help him anymore. You know what he wants, who he wants. He's not going to stop."
The now redheaded woman cleared her throat. "Will you find out where he's going next? And get the ring to me? It shouldn't be sitting in some bag in an evidence locker."
Natasha took a bite from her sandwich and looked over at Rhodey, waiting for him to respond. He gave her a sympathetic look and sighed.
"Nat... I—"
"Please." She said quietly.
Rhodey smiled sadly, picking up on the desperation in her voice. "Yeah... okay. If that's what you want."
The man gave her a quick nod before disconnecting from the call, now leaving Natasha alone in the room.
Natasha put her sandwich back on her plate and rested her face against her hands, trying to muffle her sobs that suddenly came pouring out.
It was one of her biggest regrets, the way she handled that day when he was at the compound. She hated herself for it. She couldn't help but think that if she had gone about it differently, if she didn't try to take his work away... then he possibly would of stayed. And he wouldn't of turned into this ruthless, cold, version of himself.
If she had just given him more time, then she would've been able to help Carson.
But now she's lost him.
Sure he wasn't dead, but having to grieve for the loss of someone that is still alive, well, that was one of the hardest things.
"You know, I'd offer to cook you dinner but... you seem pretty miserable already." A voice spoke up from the room.
Natasha let out a shaky breath and wiped away her tears quickly, she looked up and saw Steve leaning against a bookcase, giving her a smile.
"You here to do your laundry?" Her voice cracked a little.
"And to see a friend."
Natasha placed her hands down in her lap and nodded slowly. "Clearly, your friend is fine."
Steve looked down at his keys in his hand before speaking up once more, catching on the the fact that she wasn't ready to talk about it just yet.
"I saw a pod of whales when I was coming over the bridge." He told her.
"In the Hudson?" Natasha asked. She was grateful that he wasn't pushing her to talk about it.
Steve shrugged. "Well, there's fewer ships, cleaner water."
Natasha gave him a small smile. "You know, if you're about to tell me to look on the bright side... I'm about to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich."
Steve hummed and made his way over to the chairs at the opposite side of Natasha's desk. He placed his keys down and threw his coat onto the back of the other chair before taking a seat himself.
"Sorry." Steve chuckled. "Force of habit."
Natasha laughed softly and slid her plate over to the middle of the desk, in case Steve wanted some of her food.
Steve looked at her for a moment before speaking up. "You know, I keep telling everybody they should move on... and grow. Some do. But not us."
Natasha met his eyes. "If I move on, who does this?"
"Maybe it doesn't need to be done." Steve countered.
She shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress more tears from coming out. "I used to have nothing. And then I got this. This job, this family. And I was... better because of it. Even though they're gone... I'm still trying to be better."
Steve nodded slowly, giving her a reassuring smile. "I think we both need to get a life."
Natasha looked up at him. "You first."
That's when a device seemed to get a notification and chimed. At first, Natasha thought nothing of it and she swiped the hologram to accept it, believing it was one of the others coming back on the call to tell her something.
But to her surprise. It wasn't.
"Oh, hi, hi!"
The hologram displayed footage from the security cameras outside the compound, showing Scott Lang wafting his hands around at the camera to make sure it had his attention.
"Is, uh, is anyone home?" Scott shouted. "This is, uh, Scott Lang, We met a few years ago at the airport... in Germany? I was the guy who got really big, I had a mask on... you wouldn't recognize me. Ant-Man? I know you know that."
Steve and Natasha both stood up from their seats, watching the video in disbelief.
"Is this an old message?" Steve asked.
Natasha let out a breath of relief when she looked at the date of the footage. Once she saw that it was in fact live, she couldn't help but smile widely at the screen.
Maybe there was hope after all.
"It's the front gate."
~~ ᗢ ~~
MEANWHILE IN SAINT-TROPEZ, FRANCE
CARSON WALKED down the hallway of the building, a sick grin plastered across his face as he listened to the whimpers and cries coming from behind him. He looked over his shoulder and down at the man who he was dragging along the floor by the collar of his shirt, letting out a small chuckle at the sight of him trying to pry his hand away.
"S'il te plaît! (Please!)" The man begged. "Laisse-moi partir! (Let me go!)"
"Oh allez maintenant, Matthieu (Oh come on now, Matthieu.)" Carson rolled his eyes. "Où est le plaisir là-dedans? (Where's the fun in that?)"
Carson came to a stop and brought Matthieu up to his feet by his collar. Matthieu instantly tried to run away but Carson dragged him back, now keeping a tight grip on his shirt.
He turned back around and walked over to a set of double doors, dragging Matthieu along swiftly behind him. Carson looked at the control pad to the side, a small huff leaving his lips as he noticed the fingerprint scanner on the screen.
Carson shoved Matthieu harshly in front of him towards the panel. Matthieu nodded slowly, as he clocked onto what Carson wanted him to do, and shuffled over towards the sensor. He placed his finger on the pad to unlock the door, putting in the passcode that was needed too.
"Please, after you." Carson gestured to inside the office.
Matthieu gave him a timid nod and walked into his office, flinching when he heard Carson close the door. Once he was inside, he looked over his shoulder cautiously at Carson, watching him enter the office too with his hands in his pockets, whistling a random tune as he looked at the paintings on the wall.
"Little flashy for my taste, but hey, whatever floats your boat I guess." Carson mumbled to himself.
While Carson seemed to have let his guard down Matthieu took this as his chance to strike. He quickly swiped a hidden knife from his belt and turned around to face Carson, but as he tried to advance forwards, his hand was suddenly moved up towards his neck by Carson's powers.
Matthieu let out a gasp as he felt the cold metal from the blade touching his throat. He started to squirm, writhing in Carson's grip, desperately trying to break free. But he was stuck in place. He couldn't move a muscle.
"Do you really think..." Carson said through a sigh as he kept his gaze on a painting in front of him. Once he finished admiring it, he turned his attention back towards Matthieu, narrowing his eyes at him. "I'm that stupid?"
Carson slowly started to curl his hand into a fist, allowing his powers to press the blade further into Matthieu's skin, watching with a smile as a small amount of blood was drawn. Matthieu cried out in pain and Carson moved the blade back, faux frowning as he looked at the wound.
"Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my finger slipped. But don't worry... I'm sure that's going to be okay." Carson put his hand on his chest. "It's just... I don't understand. I thought we were friends, Matthieu? And I find out that you were going to kill me? Wow, I'm hurt, truly."
"S'il te plaît... (Please...)" Matthieu whispered.
Carson gripped the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "After all I've done for you, that's how you try to thank me? I mean, come on. I even brought you into your office so you could die in the comfort of your own space unlike your friends who— no you know what, nevermind, it doesn't even matter. You ruined it. This is why we can't have nice things."
"I beg you, let me go! I w-won't say a word! Not about you or... or the guards you killed... none of it! I can make it go away."
"Y'know, I was told you'd be a challenge. That I should be careful." Carson scoffed. "But just look at you... begging me. God you're pathetic."
Matthieu started talking again but Carson didn't pay attention. He couldn't stand to listen to anymore of his whining.
Instead he started to walk towards Matthieu staying silent, his head tilting to the side as he watched the the man in front of him intently. He smirked in amusement at the sight. Watching as Matthieu's body trembled with fear, how his eyes were slammed shut, not daring to look Carson in the eye.
As Carson got closer Matthieu opened his eyes, them widening at the view of Carson's powers running down his arms and pooling at his hands.
"Wait! Just tell me! Tell me! What is it! What do you want!?" Matthieu shouted. "Money? Is that it? I'll give you anything, I swear! Whatever you want."
Carson rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Matthieu's shoulder.
"What I want... you can't give me."
Carson took hold of the knife himself, but before he could make any more movements, Matthieu's radio suddenly chimed.
"Le signal a été reçu patron. Nous sommes en chemin. (Signal has been received boss, we're on our way.)"
Carson's eyes narrowed and he grabbed the radio from Matthieu's belt, letting out an annoyed huff through his nose due to his jaw being clenched tightly. He looked down at the radio for a moment before crushing it in his hand and tossing it to the side.
He moved his attention towards the door and tapped into his hearing, small smirk managing to find it's way on his face when he heard the multiple sets of footsteps storming into the building. Matthieu started to struggle in Carson's hold once more and in order to keep him quiet, the blade was pressed harder against his throat.
"You heard them... they're coming." Matthieu coughed out.
He looked back at Matthieu. "Let them."
Matthieu swallowed thickly as he came to the realisation that the reinforcements arriving didn't seem to affect Carson at all. "W-what..."
"It doesn't change the fact that you'll be long gone by the time I walk out of these doors." Carson shrugged. "If I have to add a few more bodies onto the pile... so be it. So as I said, let them."
"You're crazy..." Matthieu managed to get out between staggered breaths.
Carson grinned. "Perhaps." He tightened his grip on the handle of the knife. "But then again, we all go a little mad sometimes."
"If you stay here, do you know what they'll do to you for harming me?" Matthieu glanced over at the door. "You'll die."
Carson laughed at his attempt to get him to leave. "Ah, well, sadly that already happened years ago. You wanna know how it felt?"
With that, Carson moved the knife to the right, watching proudly as it pierced through Matthieu's skin, the damage instantly being fatal. He allowed his powers to fade away from Matthieu's body and the man's legs buckled beneath him, making him collapse to the floor.
Carson crouched down, looking at Matthieu desperately trying to breath as more and more blood came pouring out. He placed a finger under Matthieu's chin and tilted up his head so that they we're making eye contact.
"It felt like that."
~~ ᗢ ~~
anywaysss... i hope everyone had a good christmas ;)
i think it's safe to say i am never drinking again considering i woke up in a bath this morning 😃
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