Chapter 32: Natasha
"…"
After hearing Nick Fury's words, Coulson fell silent.
S.H.I.E.L.D. knew far too little about Spider-Man. From the agency's perspective, he was not someone they could truly trust.
"But he did save the people of New York," Coulson argued weakly.
"That's true. Which is why my guard is slightly lower around Spider-Man than it is around that mysterious enhanced individual."
Coulson shifted the conversation. "What about the blood sample? Any results?"
"Unfortunately, the owner of that blood doesn't match anyone in the U.S. blood database. But I do have a theory about who he might be."
"Who?"
"Peter Parker," Fury answered.
"Peter Parker?" Coulson frowned. "The kid who took photos of Spider-Man? Why would you suspect him?"
Fury didn't respond right away. Instead, he walked over to a computer and pulled up Peter Parker's file.
Coulson stepped closer and scanned the screen.
"Peter Parker. Originates from a small town in Florida. Orphaned at a young age and raised by his aunt and uncle. Three months ago, a massive fire destroyed the entire town. Peter Parker was the sole survivor."
"After losing everything, he came to New York to start over and is now working as an intern at the Daily Bugle," Coulson read aloud. "This file looks clean. What's the issue?"
"On the surface, there's nothing wrong with it," Fury replied. "And that town really was wiped out by a fire three months ago."
He paused, his tone turning colder. "But I sent agents to investigate. Every single person connected to Peter Parker in that file is dead. Which means there's no one left who can verify the existence of this so called Peter Parker from Florida."
Coulson's eyes narrowed as realization hit him. "So this file is fake."
"Exactly," Fury confirmed. "A fabricated identity. Combine that with the fact that he's the only one who's ever managed to photograph Spider-Man, and it strongly suggests an unusually close connection between them. I highly suspect he's the mysterious skilled fighter from the woods tonight."
Coulson had to admit Fury's reasoning made sense. S.H.I.E.L.D. had already suspected that Peter Parker and Spider-Man shared some kind of special connection. Now, a mysterious combatant tied to Spider-Man had appeared at the same time. Fury's conclusion was far from unreasonable.
"Should we put Peter Parker under surveillance?"
"No. We still don't understand his relationship with Spider-Man, and my theory could be wrong. Monitoring him now would only alert him to our interest."
Coulson nodded.
"How's the Captain?" Fury asked suddenly, changing subjects.
"Not good," Coulson replied, his expression darkening. "The doctors say the fact that he's still alive is a miracle. Whether he wakes up depends entirely on him."
"He'll wake up," Fury said quietly.
"And Dr. Banner?" Fury continued.
"We still haven't found him. He's staying well hidden. General Ross is also searching for him, so we can't move too openly."
"Inform me immediately if you get any intelligence on him," Fury said.
Coulson acknowledged the order.
Fury sat back in his chair, looking troubled.
Enhanced individuals were appearing across the world in increasing numbers, yet S.H.I.E.L.D. had none of its own. The only enhanced ally who could truly help them was off in deep space, playing hero among the stars.
Fury had long toyed with the idea of forming a S.H.I.E.L.D. team made up of enhanced individuals. But the person he had placed the greatest hopes in, Captain America, lay unconscious, and Dr. Banner, another potential candidate, was being driven into hiding under pressure from the military.
"Coulson, what do you think of Spider-Man?"
He was running out of options. With enhanced individuals becoming more common by the day, S.H.I.E.L.D. needed one of its own. If the people he trusted were unavailable, then the only choice left was to reach out to the one he knew almost nothing about. At the very least, Spider-Man's actions so far had been undeniably heroic.
"Spider-Man?" Coulson considered it for a moment. "From what we've seen these past few days, he acts like a hero. He's saved New York civilians. In that sense, he's a lot like Captain America… just not quite on the same level."
"A hero…" Fury echoed softly.
If only a hero he fully understood and trusted would appear, he wouldn't be dealing with this constant headache.
"Director, are you thinking about recruiting Spider-Man into S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"It's crossed my mind," Fury admitted. "Do you think it's possible?"
"I think it's worth a try. We don't know much about him, but judging by his actions, everything he's done points to him being a hero. Reaching out to him makes sense."
"Alright," Fury said, nodding slightly.
"But how do we approach him?" Coulson asked. "We don't even have a way to contact him."
"We don't," Fury agreed. "But there is someone who might."
His gaze shifted to Peter Parker's file on the screen.
"Then who do we send to get close to Peter Parker? If his fake identity is anything to go by, he won't be easy to deal with."
"Send Natasha," Fury decided. "She's free right now."
"When do we move?"
"In a week," Fury replied, rubbing his bald head. "I want some time to think this through."
Seeing that Fury had nothing more to add, Coulson quietly took his leave.
"Spider-Man… Peter Parker…" Fury murmured to himself.
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, the moment he decided to recruit Spider-Man, a sense of unease settled in. It felt as if Spider-Man was bound to bring him no small amount of trouble.
…
One week later.
"Creak… creak…"
Early in the morning, Peter was jolted awake by a burst of noise coming from next door.
Groggy and irritated, he dragged himself out of bed. He'd been out fighting crime until late the night before.
Peter hadn't had a decent night's sleep in an entire week. The criminals in this version of New York were far more numerous than in his own universe.
"This is so unfair," he muttered. "I stay up all night saving the city, and I can't even get a peaceful morning. I really hope Mr. Stark has started building his armor by now. It'd be nice if someone could share the workload."
Still half-dead on his feet, Peter shuffled off to wash up.
Knock, knock, knock.
A rapid knocking sound echoed at the door.
"Who is it?" Peter called out, puzzled.
He didn't know many people in this universe, and no one should even be aware he lived here.
There was no response. The knocking continued.
"Alright, I'm coming."
Peter spat out a mouthful of toothpaste and went to open the door.
Creak.
When the door opened, a stunningly beautiful woman stood before him.