Sinners [4] Far From Home

One

Chapter One:

The nights air was crisp, granted Hazel Barnes had no idea when night had fallen and daylight had disappeared.

Her fingers were numb as two big buckets of paint sat next to her feet, surrounded by empty cans of spray paint. She was coated in it, and her jeans were no longer blue but a mix of reds and golds.

A breeze picked up, blowing loose hair from her braids into her face. She swiped her cheek, groaning when she remembered the fresh paint that still coated her fingers.

Hazel stepped back, breathing in the fresh air as she stared at her work. It had been weeks since everything happened, and as days went by it was growing more difficult for Hazel to suppress her feelings on the matter. The world seemed to have returned back to normal, but nothing would ever be normal for the girl again.

She had changed, growing more silent just as she had been before ever meeting any of those she considered family, back to a girl she didn't want to be again. Hazel dedicated hours to practicing with her powers, remembering the ways Tony had taught her. It took only a few weeks to wield all elements again, but some were much stronger than others. Fire was no problem, and water was easier to control. She couldn't manipulate air as much, nor the earth, but she was getting closer. The days Hazel didn't work with her powers, she trained with her dad, Bucky Barnes. She had learned how to fight with just her body, working hard until her legs refused to move, to go through another trick. She was a pretty good fighter, as her father told her, but she assumed it was just in her blood.

It took her almost two weeks to get him to teach her how to shoot a gun, and even then he was hesitant. Telling her not to make the mistakes as he had, warning her about anything and everything.

Hazel didn't care, she just wanted to be ready. If anything came for her or the ones she loved again, she'd be ready, and she wasn't planning on losing again.

Something warm dripped onto her hand, Hazel snapped out of her daze and angrily wiped her face. She hadn't shed any tears in months, and now wasn't the time to start. She was going to be strong, and would bury those feelings deep within her once again. A trait she no doubtable learned from Tony himself.

She rubbed her paint covered hands on her jeans and Hazel collected empty spray paint bottles and dropped them into a cardboard box, adding in ruined brushes and buckets of paint.

Hazel never considered herself an artist, but sketching and painting was something she would do on the side. People at school would say she was good, and then when others came upon her work they all said the same thing. Hazel never liked anything she painted, but staring up at a mural of IronMan painted on the side of a building, she grew to like it. It wasn't her best, but she had definitely gotten better since her first attempt on some run down factory just outside of the city.

The girl pushed two boxes full of empty and ruined supplies over against the roof's edge, sitting perfectly underneath it, hidden from view.

Footsteps sounded around the bend, and Hazel tensed before collecting her wits and slipped behind a little cranny. She heard a sigh, followed by a click of a tongue. Hazel peeked her head out, eyes widening when she saw Spider-Man.

Peter Parker had been trailing her over the past few weeks, and it was amusing to her for him to talk to her about the culprit that was vandalizing the city. She watched as he pulled the mask from his face, staring up at the wall with watery eyes.

The boy blinked, then shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Mr Stark." He mumbled, staring the up at it for a long minute. Next thing Hazel saw was the mask get yanked back on over his face, concealing his identity as he took off towards the roof's edge and jumped off. Hazel rushed over, leaning over the edge as he swung through the air, disappearing behind a cluster of tall buildings.

She chewed on her lip, turning back around. With a huff she walked over to a corner of the roof and slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up two of her sketchbooks, holding them close to her chest as she took off towards the fire escape, taking the metal stairs two at a time. It was late now, and so was she. Her father, Bucky Barnes, would be waiting for her to come back home. He was a very quiet man, and she learned fast that he was quite protective and got very worried when she didn't arrive home on time.

It took her twenty minutes to get back to her apartment, now located in Queens. Hazel had no idea how her father could afford an apartment in this day and age, even if it was only a small little thing. It was a bit smaller than Peter's apartment, which was her only frame of reference, but it was cozy. The walls were a soft grey, and the floors were polished concrete.

Her shoes squeaked on the floor as she gently closed the door behind her. She dropped her bag onto the floor, in front of the closet as Bucky slid into view from the kitchen. A small kitten winding itself through the man's legs, rubbing his head against an ankle.

"Hey." She mumbled, "You're still up?"

"I thought I would wait for you."

Hazel nodded slowly, slipping her shoes off she trudged past him towards the small hallway towards the back of the space.

"Are you ok?"

She turned as her hand grabbed the doorknob to her room, facing his tall figure. "Yes." She smiled, "I just felt like going out."

He nodded slowly, a frown forming on his face. "Next time could you be back a little earlier? Those people are still out there—"

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me." Hazel told him, "But I will." She stepped in, leaving the door open.

Bucky only watched her, dark eyes looking unmoved. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Hazel slapped on a big smile, hoping it reached her eyes. "I'm fine, I told you. It's late and I think I'm gonna clean up then go to bed."

"Okay." He sighed, "Night."

The girl said nothing, only watched as he stepped towards her room, hands landing on the door knob and clicking it shut behind him. Hazel sighed rubbing her eyes, a quiet sob escaping her lips.

She shook her head, letting her hands fall to the side. "You're ok." She mumbled, "I'm fine. Everything is." Her eyes landed on the window, and suddenly she couldn't breathe in her room. She needed to get out, release some of her anger and fear.

Hazel tossed her sketchbooks onto her desk before pushing open her window, sneaking out through it. Her feet gently touched the fire escape landing and closed the window behind her.

Nobody knew that she stuck out after she would return home, and nobody knew that she'd go to dangerous parts of the city dressed in a way that concealed her identity, to pick fights with the low life's. It was a way she would train with her powers, even though as she got better the fights weren't fair. But Hazel told herself that she needed a way to get rid of all her anger, and this was an easier way to do it.

The girl rushed into the alley way behind her building, picking up an old backpack that she had shoved under a dumpster. In it contained a suit Tony Stark had made, he called it the prototype.

The one he had made for her before the battle, that sat hanging in her closet, the one she wore when she was on 'missions' with Peter. They seemed to be the only ones who wanted to continue fighting for their city, and Hazel had no intentions to stop.

This particular suit was all black, with a matte red pattern covering the entirety of it. A hood flipped up over her head, and a mask clicked out to only cover her eyes, stopping at the tip of her nose. Unlike her other suit, the fabric covered her hands like gloves. She had to admit that this suit was pretty amazing, and how Tony had picked the best parts and applied them to a whole new one, still blew her mind. Because both suits were amazing, and she had no idea how much time and energy he put into the creating them.

She huffed with a shake of her head before sliding her feet into it over her clothes, she tapped the chest just as she would do with her other suit and it tightened perfectly around her body. Hazel flipped the hood on and mask into place, shoving the bag back against the wall, and with a sigh of freedom took off into the night.