PTR Arachnid 24601

Ch 14 - A box full of childhood

3rd POV

Natasha hopped onto her motorcycle and sped off down the street, a Queens address punched into her GPS. She was out just after the morning rush, so traffic wasn't as bad as it could be. After nearly forty minutes of driving, the redhead found herself in a quiet neighbourhood lined with old-but-large early 20th century homes.

The neighbourhood was so calm and... domestic that Natasha didn't feel like she was in New York anymore. She walked up the street slowly, enjoying the sounds of birds chirping and kids playing outside a few houses over. Sometimes, she still fantasizes about having a life like this.

Briefly checking the address again, she stopped at a white picket fence in front of a beautiful Victorian-era home. Compared to the other homes on the street, it was small, surrounded by maple trees, and had a large front yard. But something about the house made a shiver crawl up her spine. An old, worn tire-swing hung from a tree on the left. The front garden was untouched, weeds sprouting everywhere. Paint was chipping and some of the roof tiles were missing. On the right, vines weaved their way up the porch and side of the house. There were no cars in the driveway or signs of life in the house. It just sat there on property, unusually quiet.

This is it. Natasha thought. This is the house Peter spent the first two years of his life in.

Even though there weren't any signs of life, the redhead didn't think she should go onto the property. She felt better simply standing at the gate and basking in the rare sunshine of the day, observing the house.

"Ms. Romanoff, I can't imagine that you came here just to look at old houses," a sweet but delicate voice behind her said, startling the assassin a bit. Nobody snuck up on Natasha Romanoff. "So, why are you here? Hm?"

Slowly, she turned––her guard raised up––to see a lady standing a few feet behind her. The lady looked to be in her late fifties and she was leaning on a cane to support her. Grey and brown hair was tied back in a neat bun and her green eyes twinkled with familiarity and wistful sorrow.

"Good afternoon ma'am. Do I know you?" Natasha asked carefully, relaxing at the sight of the lady. The old woman just smiled and hobbled forward to stand beside her.

Instead of answering the question, the lady responded with, "So, are you going to tell me why you're here of all places? I can only assume you know something about this house." Her smile deepened but so did the sadness in her eyes.

"This is where Peter used to live, isn't it?" the redhead dragged her gaze from the old lady and turned it back to the house.

"So you are here about Peter." It came out as a statement. "Yes, he did use to live here. But that was many years ago." A long sigh escaped the older's lips. "And now that you're here of all places, I can only ask; you found him, didn't you?"

Romanoff looked beside her and met the senior's eyes for a brief moment before dragging them back to the property.

"Yes, we did."

"How is he?"

"We're not sure yet. It's only been a few days. But he seems very damaged. He's timid and unsure of himself... unstable. He'll get better in time."

The lady shifted where she stood.

"I used to babysit him."

That caught Natasha's attention. They turned to face each other.

"It's true. I knew his parents. I used to be a SHIELD agent, believe it or not. His mother, Mary, was in the Investigation Department like me. She was my apprentice when she first started out. Such a promising student too. When I found out they had a kid, I was so happy for them. They even made me his godmother. Peter was smart, even at such a young age. Babysitting him was probably the highlight of my week. And then all that happened," she motioned vaguely to the house and the air in general, "and I never saw him, his parents, or his aunt and uncle again. I never got to say goodbye." She smiled sadly and placed a hand on redhead's shoulder, "Such a cliché concept– never saying goodbye. But that's what happens."