scott x hope oneshots

how about we don't do that again?

"Since when did we start gettin' involved in this kinda' shit, man? I didn't sign up for this."

"Bro, you didn't sign up for anything." Luis slammed his palm against Dave's back, causing the latter to shoot a withering glare to the oblivious man. "Remember? It was more like—"

"Can you just shut up and let me think? You talk so much that the voice inside my head is YOURS." Scott sat in the brittle wooden chair stationed adjacent to the small, round kitchen table. Dave and Luis were standing next to each other in front of him; Luis with a slaphappy grin on his face and Dave motionless beside him with his arms crossed. Kurt sat in a different wooden chair just far away enough from the three others to be considered as more of an observer than a person supposed to actually be involved in the situation.

"Look, Scott. It's not like I don't wanna help, 'cause I do. It's more like I don't wanna go to jail. Y'know where I'm comin' from, right?" Dave shrugged his shoulders.

"Nobody's going to jail," Scott rebuked, pulling his hands from his hair and lifting his head up to look at the men in front of him. "We're supposed to be the good guys, remember? We make the world a better place. We do what the police can't."

Dave sighed and let his arms fall loosely to his sides. "Just because you're wanted by the Avengers now doesn't mean you have to save every cat from every tree."

"Hey, no. Don't you start pulling that card. That was one time. And I did that all by myself without the suit."

"Oh, great! What would we do without you, Helpful Normal Citizen?"

"Guys, guys," Luis began, stepping between Dave and Scott, who had finally stood up at that last comment. "We're a team. That means no fighting."

"Yeah," Scott said, glaring past Luis. "So, are you guys in or out on this one?"

"I'm all in, bro," said Luis, pleasantly unaware of the mild tension still hanging in the air.

"Me too."

Scott jumped and whirled around to see Kurt still sitting down at the table, cup of coffee in hand and ever-present laptop resting closed in front of him. The question had been aimed at Dave, and he'd forgotten about the Russian hacker's presence.

Dave bit down on his lower lip and his narrowed eyes were glowering at Kurt in a way that said, 'traitor.' "Fine. Yeah, I'm in. What's the plan?"

The story was simple.

The girl's name was Harper Monte. She was nine years old. Her parents were Alexandria and Kevin Monte. Three weeks ago, Harper's parents hired a babysitter when they got a call in regard to the sudden death of Kevin's mother and found out the funeral was going to be held in Spain, the country she had been living in at the time.

The hire had been quick and based on a short meeting. But everything seemed to fall smoothly into place: Joy, the babysitter, seemed prepared for everything. She clicked with Harper. Even with Harper's unpredictable attitude, Joy seemed ready to take care of her.

They left a week later, entrusting Harper in Joy's care.

They returned four days after that, only to find an empty house.

A video was the only object left behind. It revealed an ugly truth that left two parents sobbing and questioning themselves. What if this? What if that? But it was too late. "Joy" had apparently kidnapped the child. The video said as much. She had tied Harper to a chair and left her in a barren room. Alexandria and Kevin were forced to watch as their child stuttered upon reading a message written upon the opposite wall demanding a ransom of one million dollars. A ridiculous amount, especially for a barely-middle-class family that had just recently spent a large sum of their money in order to go to a funeral. The police were not to get involved. If they did...