(A/N: Sorry if I took long. Try to read until the end too btw.)

IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT as groups of men scattered around each and individual corner of the luxurious occupation. Faces blank, like an empty-hollow book— unreadable to its finest.

The penthouse was well lit, shades of yellow. Soft Jazz played in the background.

A man dressed in a white dress suit slid his hands on the table, fingers tracing the well-crafted structure while he hummed slowly to the calming song. He diverted his eyes to the right, a large window showing a beautiful skyline of the city.

The City that never sleeps.

"How may I help you, boys?" He asked, plopping himself on the soft velvet chair. Two figures sat in front of him. "Need more volunteers?"

"Something with that involvement," One spoke, a hint of a Russian accent. "The other branches were unable to provide ones that would be able to survive the test, including yours."

"Well, were there any survivors?"

He nodded in response. "Two, A pair gifted by the branch of Sokovia themselves, Twins."

"What about my branch?"

"Buried. Six feet under."

He released a breath of frustration out his nose. "So, I'm guessing you no longer need my assistance?"

The other slowly nodded. "Unfortunately. The lesser we are, the better. We have tried getting other parties off of our scent. But, it seems like your branch is going in the opposite direction. We cannot have anything of that sort to interfere with our plan."

"Are you implying the attacks?" The man sighed. "What are you expecting? They released every HYDRA leak. Why wouldn't anyone try to find us?"

"That's the problem. We cannot, I repeat, We cannot have anyone finding out our connections with HYDRA or even the EIGHT's remains. This is why we are cutting our ties with you."

"You are afraid."

"We are cautious." He corrected.

"Cautious? Of what-"

As the words rolled out of his mouth, the lights suddenly went dim.

Horror-filled screams were the last ever recorded sound.

--

THE CLOUDS WERE GRAY, A DARK SHADE. A groan subconsciously escaped Y/N's lips as a white-like reflection flashed on his eyes. The small wrinkles on his pillow caused sets of imprinted lines on his cheek.

His eyes squinted, covering the large window on his left with his weak hand as he groggily got out of bed. Once he stepped out of his soft mattress, another groan, this time of satisfaction as he stretched his back, relieving any tight muscles.

'Good Morning, sir.' The A.I greeted, causing Y/N to jump from the sudden voice.

"JARVIS, er- What time is it?"

'It is now 8:13 AM, sir. Surprisingly a late time for the clouds of nimbostratus type.'

He took another glance at the window on his left once his vision got more precise. It was rather dark. "Is anyone awake?"

'Mr. Stark never sleeps. Banner, Hill and Lord Odinson have been taken into a state of deep slumber. So, Captain Rogers was the next to awaken from a night's rest. Followed by Mr. Barton, Miss Romanoff-"

"Natasha?" Y/N perked from the name, getting up from his bed as he made his way to the bathroom. "Where is she?"

'Her status is recent, currently residing in the kitchen for her morning meals. Shall I notify her of your presence?'

"No, I can do it myself." Y/N insisted, mixing in a chuckle. "Thanks, JARVIS."

'No problems involved, sir, Just doing my job. How were your first mornings in the Tower?"

Y/N spit the mouthwash onto the drain, dragging a towel over his lips before he spoke, "Good sleep, something I don't usually get. So yeah, quite cozy. How about you, JARVIS?"

'I'm afraid I don't sleep, sir.'

Y/N snickered, making his way through the halls. "It was a joke."

'Oh. Well, it was a nice attempt at humor, sir.'

"Clearly," Y/N said under his breath, mumbling the sarcasm before his steps came to a halt.

A small smile was peaking on his lips when his eyes landed on Natasha, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Her back faced at him, arms rested on the countertop.

But Natasha was not oblivious of his presence, a smirk curving as she looked over her shoulder. "Seeing something you like?"

"Oh, you wish." Y/N scoffed, walking over as he prepared his bowl of cereal. "How are you this wonderful morning?"

"Just like what I always say..."

"Don't say it-"

"...Very well, now that you're here."

"Jesus..." Y/N mumbles, loud enough for Natasha to chuckle. "You really are something."

"What can I say?" Natasha shrugged.

"You're a very interesting one, Romanoff." Y/N spoke, sitting next to the redhead as he ate his breakfast, "Like, really. . . fascinating."

A small laugh released out of the two of them before a silence had overtaken the air.

Both stared at each other. Probably seeing something the other had never really admired.

What they didn't notice was how close they were.

It was to the point where they could feel the other's warm breath.

Both deeply glanced at each other's eyes before snapping out of the deep gaze, now aware of what had occurred as they awkwardly leaned back, pulling away from the close trance.

They stayed silent, knowing damn well something was not right. What was once a peaceful greeting was now something they had never felt.

They just couldn't place a finger on it.

A thought lingered on the back of their heads. It was a simple, yet, one that could would always make them think or theorize into something way deeper than it already was.

There was one thing they won't admit, but both internally and mutually agreed on.

Things were definitely different between the two, and they definitely noticed.

The uncharacteristic stammering, unknown territories of conversation that they never had dwelled on from the past, the care, and at times... a mutual sensation.

Yet again, they just couldn't place a finger on it.

In the distance, Steve and Clint watched from afar. The two scrunched a look of amusement while they had their arms crossed. Eyes set on the pair who just sat in a silence. . .

They could definitely feel it.

It was interesting, yet a bit hard to watch.

A sound of scraping metal snapped Y/N out of his thoughts. He turned his head to see Natasha dragging a small bottle over at his direction as it rattled.

"Don't forget your meds." She broke the silence, although not making eye contact.

A smile unconsciously grew onto Y/N's lips. "You remembered."

Natasha scoffed. "Why wouldn't I remember? I am not letting a friend die."

A snicker was the sound Y/N made as the water drained the pill down his throat.

But his face fell when he re ran those words that had left the redhead's mouth.

'I am not letting a friend die.'

Y/N slowly turned to Nat, eyeing the beautiful woman that was set on his eyes. "Actually?"

Natasha knitted her brows. "Actually what?"

"I asked this before but I need a genuine answer." Y/N rubbed the back of his neck before he cleared his throat. "Do you actually consider me as a friend?"

A smile had grew on Natasha's lips, one she was unaware that occurred. She internally awed at the question, slowly nodding her head as she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ears.

"I do."

A proud smile had emerged onto Y/N. Internally amazed at how those two words had played out, "Then... i'm lucky to have a friend like you, Romanoff."

"Aww!" Clint exclaimed, maybe even too loudly, causing Y/N and Natasha to perk up from the voice.

"What? What happened?"

"Nothing!" Clint stammered, looking at the man beside him for cover.

Steve sighed, waving at Y/N. "Wanna go for a spar?"

Y/N turned to Nat, who shrugged in answer. "I'm not your wife. You don't need my approval."

"Not yet anyway.." Y/N teased.

Before Natasha could even respond, a peck was sent on her left cheek as a black mist whirled around the air.

Y/N's body reappeared next to Steve, who had already started to make their way to the gym, initiating conversation from a distance.

Natasha was left in a deep trance, her left hand subconsciously caressing the spot.

"So..." Clint trailed, occupying the seat Y/N sat on. He studied Natasha's face before a grin emerged onto his lips. "You have allergies?"

"No, why?" She questioned, never leaving sight of Y/N's figure as he away from the distance.

"Your cheeks are red... "

--

THE PRESTIGIOUS SCHOOL of Midtown High was full of continuous chatter. From the usual school gossip, rumors, and just the classic conversations that would occur in the home of academics.

Sydney pursed her lip. A tray held on her arms when she started to look around the cafeteria. The young teen could be social at times. But for some reason, she still felt a tinge of awkwardness every time she took a step.

She would always take a glance at the people around to see if they were staring at her.

It was not a habit, more of an involuntary instinct.

There were a few occasions, and when it did happen, she always felt like a bucket load of nervousness dropped and poured onto her.

"Syd! Over here!" A familiar voice exclaimed.

She turned to her heels, following the direction of the voice.

Ned repeatedly waved while Peter... was embarrassed?

A small smile crept on her lips, immediately occupying a seat in front of her two friends as she set the tray down the table.

"Hey, guys." She smiled, earning an ecstatic nod from Ned.

Why? It's Ned.

"Have you decided yet?"

Sydney furrowed her eyebrows, "Decided on what?"

"The plan? Were supposed to be hanging out over at Peter's place, right?" Ned nudged Peter, earning a nod.

"Yeah. I already asked Aunt May and Uncle Ben for permission. Luckily, they're going to be gone for the night." Peter explained, "So, you in?"

Sydney grimaced in guilt, "Oof, I don't know." She spoke in an unsure tone. "I got something to do today. I really am sorry, Pete."

"It's fine..." Peter mumbled, his head unconsciously tilting down.

Ned noticed, immediately patting his back. "You still haven't moved on, haven't you?"

Sydney quirked an eyebrow from the remark, her curiosity taking control, "Moved on from what?"

"Don't say it-"

"He used to have a babysitter when he was ten!" Ned interrupted, making Peter hide his face in embarrassment. Sydney simply bit her lip, stifling a laugh as she gestured for Ned to continue.

"He was a funny dude. I met him once when I came over at Pete's, and coincidentally, he was left with the dude. What was his name again?"

"Jakob," Peter answered, regaining the strength to look back up. "He was like an older brother. B-But that's all in the past."

"Yeah. . ." Ned paused before his eyes suddenly lit up. "Anyway! Sydney, what are you doing today?" Ned asked, his chin rested on his palm as he waited for an answer.

Sydney gave a glance at Peter, who simply shrugged at Ned's antics.

"Uh- I have to do some homework for history."

Peter tilted his head, "There was nothing given."

"Um, It's a special one! Specifically for me. Cause you know, I'm. . . me." Sydney stammered, causing a look of amusement to form onto Peter's face.

Ned simply clapped. "Oh, that's so good to hear! We should probably study as a group next time there's a history project, yeah? Could be fun, considering you're good at it?" He suggested, diverting his eyes between Peter and Sydney while he awaited a response.

"U-Uh sure-"

"Ms. Crooke! I need a word!" A voice boomed.

Sydney sucked in the front of her teeth before flashing a small smile, pushing her tray forward. "You can have it. Talk soon!"

"Bye!" Ned waved, watching as her figure walked out of the cafeteria. A small emerging his lips before nudging his friend beside him, "Dude, just make a move already."

"Just give me time!"

"You guys are weird," MJ spoke, not bothering to give them a look as she took a bite out of her apple, eyes glued to a book.

--

STEVE GRUNTED IN PAIN for what would be the fourteenth time out of twenty sessions. His back flat on the soft padding of the fighting ring. He suddenly groaned when a water bottle drops harshly onto his stomach, making a chuckle release out of Y/N's system.

"Oh, what happened to 'I could do this all day'?" Y/N joked, reaching a hand out to Steve as he pulled him back on his feet. "You put up a good fight, though. Not gonna lie." He admitted, patting Rogers on the shoulder.

"I put you on the ground six times."

"And I did it fourteen times. Correct me if I'm wrong, cause I know you haven't been to school in a longing," Y/N pretended to think, rubbing his chin as he spoke, "...I'm pretty sure fourteen is more than six?"

"How about this? We just forget this all happened?" Steve suggested, making Y/N snicker.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Hn. So what, you're a comedian now?" Y/N joked, causing Steve to form an offended look. "What? Didn't know you had it in you."

"Don't get too cocky."

Y/N scoffed as both sat on the bench, a sigh simultaneously escaping their lips. A moment of silence, a comfortable one. Steve glanced at Y/N before a smile emerged.

"What's going on?"

Y/N hummed. "What do you mean?"

"You and Romanoff."

"What about us?" Steve simply raised an eyebrow in amusement from the remark. Y/N's mouth suddenly went agape in realization, "No, No. Don't even-"

"I didn't even say anything yet." Steve placed a hand up, stifling a laugh,

"But... are you though-"

"No, No. Were not, Steve. Just friends."

"Right, I'm not buying that."

Y/N rolled his eyes at the remark before his sight set on the widow not too far. The clouds were darker, but not the morning kind. He turned his head to the wall clock on the left,

3: 24 PM

"Jesus..." Y/N mutters, catching the attention of Steve. He followed his line of sight before his eyes widened.

"Woah. Wait, what."

"Yeah, crazy." Y/N turned to the right in thought before he suddenly stood up, slightly making Steve jump. "I have to go."

"Where?"

"Check out the new case. New reports, New attack. I might check it out myself." Y/N explained.

"You need anyone to accompany you? I can send someone like Barton, or-"

"Nah, all good. I got it." Y/N reassured, making his way out of the gym. "I'll see you in a bit, man!"

"Good luck!"

"Don't care!"

"What do you mean, Y/N went alone?" Natasha questioned, a tone of frustration as she looked at Steve, dumbfounded. Her arms crossed while sending a sharp glare at the star-spangled man.

"He insisted. He'll be fine, I promise," said Steve.

"I swear to god if something happens to him, you're dead...." she threatened.

THE DOORS AUTOMATICALLY OPENED once a male figure stepped foot into the building. The attire of a black leather jacket overcoating a white button-up shirt. A nice pair of shiny clean sneakers dressed on his foot while a briefcase was grasped on his right hand.

Glasses were set over his E/C eyes. A simple trick he learned that made a big difference with just the art of illusion.

A woman flashes a small smile once her eyes landed on the figure, a warming one of greeting. "How may I help you?"

"Uh, yes. I'm here for the case. Sorry if I'm late, there was a problem at the airport. Such a hassle."

"I'm sorry, you're-"

"I'm Detective Montgomery. Transferee from Engl- Wait, did they not tell you about me?" Y/N questioned.

"I'm sorry, sir- Detective." The woman at the front desk corrected. "They already provided a list. Unfortunately, no one with a surname of Montgomery was provided."

Y/N sighed. "There's no way I flew all the way here just to be treated like this."

"My apologies, Detective. I can contact the lead if you would like?"

"Right, you do that. I'll just make myself of use up in the penthouse." Y/N said, walking over to the elevator.

"Uh, Detective. I don't think-"

"Have a wonderful day, ma'am." Y/N smiled before the elevator doors shut. That smile instinctively wiping off as he went back to business.

He flipped his wrist, setting a timer on his watch.

'Approximately twenty-five minutes till cops arrive... just enough time..' Y/N thought to himself, taking off the pair of glasses that were set on his eyes.

Once the elevator dinged and the doors opened, he was greeted by a scene.

A very gruesome scene.

Pretty peaceful though, considering he was the only one in the premises.

Bodies scattered on the floor, blood-spattered on the walls, weapons organized in one area in the corner of the home, and standard police equipment set.

The classic crime scene.

As Y/N took one step on the penthouse, his mindset shifted from logical to analytical.

Reaching in his pockets, a pair of rubber gloves were revealed, pulling them down his hands.

He walked up to one of the bodies, eyes stern as he looked up and down the lifeless form.

His head tilting in interest, hands tracing over the deceased.

'Scars on the cheek, Contusions on the neck... Signs of strangulation.' He noted as he looked around the room in general. Surprisingly, not a lot of bullets. 'Man's got skill too.'

He looked over at the rest of the bodies, no bullet wounds.

'No guns used on the victims. Judging by scarring, the guy simply used a sharp object.' He looked over to the walls, coming into sets of conclusions. 'The only firearms used in the scene were only of protective use, defensive only.'

It was nice and quiet until suddenly, his ears picked up a sound. It was unclear what it was.

Unsure if it was a footstep or a simple piece of glass. His jaw tightened as he shifted on high alert.

Another sound he picked up on the opposite direction, making him snap his head towards the sound.

His blood was starting to rush in adrenaline, his heartbeat slightly picking up at a quickened pace, eyes diverting to every corner he could land on the room.

But nowhere now to look at as the lights went dim...

"Nat, just calm down..." Clint spoke in a soft tone. Everyone else gathered around the couch as they watched Natasha pace back and forth.

"He's been gone for an hour and a half." She muttered.

"Three hours, actually." Tony corrected, earning a glare from Natasha.

"Lord Y/N must be finding the scepter. Something WE should all be looking for." Thor's voice boomed.

"No, he told me he was gonna check on the new scene that happened last night," Steve replied, biting his nail as he stared down at the floor.

"He also told me that there could be a possible connection with the scepter." Nat says.

"Well, consider my interests piqued," Thor mumbled.

"The scepter has a new way of trace. We have to find it by hand. He might be on to something." Bruce pointed out.

The sound of the elevator ringing caught their attention.

Everyone else acted on instinct as they waited.

Y/N dragged a body across the floor.

He looked exhausted. A scar on his left cheek while everything else was a bruise.

The body wore a pitch-black suit that came with a hood. A mask was covering any feature from the chin to the nose. A belt that consisted of daggers and other range of hand used artillery.

Y/N let go of his grasp on the vigilante before outstretching his arms. "I got him. Don't worry, he's just unconsious."

Natasha immediately came to Y/N's aid, throwing herself into a tight embrace.

Y/N was taken back from this. Nonetheless, he enjoyed it.

His arms snaking around her waist as Natasha laid on the crook of his neck.

"We were worried sick." Natasha says.

"You mean 'you'-"

"Don't even say anything else, Barton." She scowled before her face relaxed, turning back to Y/N. "How did you...?"

"Dumb luck, probably..."

"Happens... to the... best of us..." Tony grunts as he and Steve drag the body over to the couch.

"Let's get you patched up, yeah?" Natasha suggested, caressing her thumb below the wounds on his cheek.

Y/N nodded, a small smile emerging as he stared deeply at her green eyes. "I'd love that-"

"Holy shit!" Tony exclaimed, causing Y/N and Natasha to snap their heads at the billionaire.

"What? What happened?" asked Y/N, running over to the group. As he makes his way to the couch, his eyes suddenly widened at the slight of the unmasked figure.

"Holy shit...."

"She's so young..."

"I thought it was a guy...."

"She has answers..."

"Then lock her up till' she wakes up..."

--

A/N: IMMA LEAVE IT AT THAT.

-Sorry if I took long, my brain is just filled with too much school work.

-With so much school work, this is the best I could provide lol. I'll try to pick back up that writing touch.

-Thoughts on the chapter?

-Any suggestions? Things I could work on?

-Anything you would want to see?

-If not, don't forget to vote, possibly share this book around. I'll See ya in a bit!

-Forti