Gary Cooper didn't stay long.
He explained that he had another potential scholarship candidate to evaluate at Trinity School in Manhattan that afternoon.
Mrs. Snow enthusiastically walked him to the door.
Hawk followed, though his mind wasn't on the departing admissions officer. It was replaying Gary Cooper's parting words...
"Don't thank me. It was my colleague, Anna..."
Hawk connected the dots in an instant, remembering the woman from the cemetery.
"I have a gift for you. I hope you'll like it."
So... this is the gift?
Hawk thought to himself.
...
As soon as Gary Cooper was out of sight, Mrs. Snow returned to her office, her face beaming with pride for Hawk. "This is fantastic, Hawk! I honestly thought they'd take your file back to committee for review. I never imagined he'd offer you a spot for next September on the spot!"
Hearing the joy in Mrs. Snow's voice, Hawk momentarily pushed his thoughts of Anna aside and offered a smile.
"I didn't expect it either."
"This is huge. You know how competitive NYU Law is this year. They have so many exceptional students to choose from. That's why I wanted you to be so prepared. For him to make a decision after the first interview is incredible."
Mrs. Snow let out a visible sigh of relief, then looked at Hawk. "But this isn't the time to relax just yet. Gary said he's going to prepare the paperwork when he gets back. We can't truly celebrate until that official invitation is in your hands."
Despite her words of caution, her expression was completely relaxed.
A college recruiter backing out at this stage was virtually unheard of—
The relationship between private high school counselors and university admissions officers was a symbiotic one, built on professional trust.
Counselors identified promising students and connected them with the right recruiters. It was a system of mutual benefit.
For a recruiter to give their word and then break it would be professional suicide. No counselor would ever recommend a student to them again.
So Mrs. Snow's warning was merely a formality.
But—
Hawk had a feeling that whether or not his invitation actually arrived depended on a phone call with the new "friend" he'd made this morning.
There's no such thing as a free lunch.
What did this Anna want??
As he left Mrs. Snow's office, Hawk's mind was racing. He didn't feel threatened, as if she were holding his future hostage.
The fact that she could influence the scholarship selections at NYU was a testament to her power. It was how the world worked. He didn't see it as some dark conspiracy. The real world was far darker than this.
Hawk preferred to see it for what it was: A Transaction.
It was no different from the parents of those rich kids using their money or connections to buy a letter of recommendation for a prestigious university.
There was no fundamental difference. At the end of the day, it was all just a deal.
But a deal had to be a two-way street.
He would hear out his new friend Anna's terms, and then he would decide whether or not to accept the transaction.
...
Stepping out of the school building, Hawk pulled out his phone. He looked at the most recent number in his call history—unsaved—then slid the phone back into his pocket. He'd deal with it tonight.
A smile touched his lips as he saw Gwen walking toward him.
She had clearly already heard the news. She rushed forward and wrapped him in a joyful hug.
"Wow, that's amazing, Hawk! Congratulations!"
"Thanks." Hawk returned the hug briefly. As they separated, he said, "Mine came through. Yours should be here any day now, Gwen."
Gwen beamed. "Berkeley already called. I had my virtual interview yesterday. They said my official invitation should arrive in the next few days."
Hawk was genuinely stunned. "And you didn't tell me!"
"You weren't at school today," Gwen retorted with a grin, then added, "Besides, that was yesterday. This is your day. It's obvious Anya is looking out for you."
Hawk raised an eyebrow.
Gwen explained, "Think about it. Why would NYU, after all this time, suddenly call Mrs. Snow on the very day you go to see Anya? It's a sign. You were thinking of her, and she was thinking of you!"
Could that be it?
...
That afternoon.
Because of the suitcase full of cash, Hawk didn't bother with the school bus. He got a ride with Gwen back to his apartment.
On the way, Gwen asked curiously, "So, you have a million dollars now. What are you going to do with it?"
Hawk looked at her. "Get my license, buy a car, and then get a suit to take you to the prom."
Gwen stared at him, surprised by his immediate, unhesitating answer. After a moment, she asked, "And...?"
Hawk smiled. "My whole plan was to sell that stuff for the prom. I didn't want you to have any regrets about it."
Call him old-fashioned, call it chauvinistic if you want. But that was exactly what he was thinking—and it was his plan.
As for everything else?
The penthouse apartment, the meteorite he was still hunting for, the Vibranium in Wakanda—a million dollars wasn't going to be nearly enough for any of that.
Gwen met his gaze, her sky-blue eyes shimmering. "Hawk..."
"You're not mad that I sold those weapons?"
"Weapons don't kill people, Hawk. People do."
Gwen's expression turned serious as she met his gaze. "Besides, they were your spoils of war. You have every right to decide what to do with them."
Hawk listened to her words, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
Soon. They arrived at the Queensbridge apartment building.
Hawk stood on the curb, watching as Gwen's yellow Corolla drove away. Only then did he turn, rolling the suitcase inside.
But just as he was about to enter, a voice called out from behind him.
A young man in a courier's uniform was jogging across the street, waving to get his attention.
"Mr. Hawk, wait a second!!"
"..."
--
When Hawk got home, he was pulling a twenty-inch carry-on suitcase, but he also had a courier envelope in his left hand.
The delivery driver had just given it to him, explaining it was an overnight delivery sent from New York University that afternoon.
NYU??
Hawk pushed the suitcase aside, sat down on the sofa, and examined the envelope. A moment later, he ripped it open.
Inside was an official acceptance letter to the NYU School of Law.
With a full-ride scholarship.
Hiss.
Hawk drew in a sharp breath. He stared at the document—fully accredited and stamped, valid for enrollment next September—and blinked, a deep frown creasing his brow.
So, this really was a 'gift with no strings attached, huh?
He thought to himself, his eyes still on the freshly printed letter. He pulled out his phone, went to his recent calls, and dialed the last number.
The call connected almost immediately. The voice on the other end was tinged with a pleasant surprise. "Mr. Hawk!"
"I received your gift."
"Excellent—wait, Mr. Hawk, the letter from NYU wasn't the gift. That was merely a... professional courtesy."
"Oh?"
"I've just checked my records. It seems you haven't viewed the actual gift yet."
Hawk raised an eyebrow.
Anna's voice continued, "Have you not logged back into the secure forum to view my message, Mr. Hawk?"
"One moment," Hawk said. He stood, walked over to the folding table, activated his phone's hotspot, and opened his laptop.
It was the same encrypted forum, the same chat window. But now there was a new message, timestamped just after eleven o'clock from Anna.
Hawk's eyes narrowed as he read the new line of text.
["New Jersey. Culver Lake. Bruce Banner and Betty Ross will be spending their Christmas holiday there."]
"..."
HULK!!!!
The name hit him like a physical blow. After processing the information, Hawk's breathing became noticeably heavier.
"Is this information accurate?"
"As of this moment, their itinerary has not changed. The cabin was booked by Ms. Betty Ross herself, and the reservation is still active."
Anna's voice was still laced with a smile. "Do you like your gift, Mr. Hawk?"
"Call me Hawk."
Hawk's voice was low, his eyes still fixed on the message. "I like it very much. Now, what do you want from me?"
Anna smiled. "Mr. Haw—"
"Just Hawk."
"Alright, Hawk."
Her voice now held an even brighter note of delight. "The letter was a courtesy. This is the gift. And one doesn't expect something in return for a gift given to a friend... unless, of course, Hawk doesn't truly consider us friends."
Hawk slowly pulled his gaze from the screen. His voice was deep and serious. "If this information is solid, then from this moment on, you have my friendship, Anna."
He didn't care who she was, or what organization she represented.
Whoever helps him is his friend.
It was that simple.
Besides, the most likely candidate behind her was Hydra. And so what? After what happened with the Hulk, he'd lost all respect for these so-called superheroes.
The great villain, Hydra?
Heh.
What did Alexandre Dumas say? "The difference between treason and patriotism is only a matter of dates." Hydra had simply lost. And history is written by the victors.
Hawk's answer was deliberate, a solemn vow. This was the first time he had ever made such a promise.
"I repay my debts, Anna."
"Tell me what you want. If it's within my power to give, it's yours. As long as this intel is good."
"It is a gift. A gift between friends requires no repayment."
Even in the face of his solemn promise, Anna insisted it was nothing more than a token of friendship.
Hawk didn't press the issue.
Then, a thought occurred to him. A slight smile touched his lips. "Actually, I have a proposition. If you can help, perhaps we can make a trade."
Anna paused for a beat, then recovered smoothly.
"Please, go on."
"I require iron meteorites."
"How many?"
"As many as you can get."
"By when?"
"Before Christmas." Hawk's tone was even. "But I have no money to give you. In exchange, you can name your price. If it is something in my possession, our deal is made."
His Phoenix constellation was still in the process of refining the Gammanium.
The process required the constellation's power to imbue the material with the potential for life. Hawk estimated it would be complete by the Christmas holiday, at which point he could move on to refining the meteorites.
His original plan had been to acquire the meteorites over the holiday, and then, after he turned eighteen and could legally leave the country, go to Wakanda and take the Vibranium he needed.
He couldn't fly, and he had no way of getting there illegally.
But now?
An opportunity had just presented itself.
Whether Anna or whoever was backing her was trying to win favor or set a trap—it made no difference.
He was satisfied with their gift. And the more they insisted they wanted nothing, the more he felt compelled to give them something.
He didn't care who his friends were, only whether they were useful.
After Hawk stated his terms, the line went silent again.
No doubt Anna was consulting with the power behind her—the one who could actually make the decision.
Hawk didn't rush her. He put the phone on speaker and pulled up a satellite map, searching for Culver Lake in New Jersey.
A moment later, Anna's voice returned, though this time it was laced with caution, as if she were afraid of overplaying her hand and angering him.
"Mr. Haw—"
"Hawk. We're friends now, Anna."
"Alright." Hearing his interruption, Anna chuckled, some of her earlier confidence returning.
"Is anything truly on the table?"
"Of course. Anything in my possession."
"Then..." Anna paused, as if steeling herself, before she made her request. "Could we... have a sample of your blood?"
Hearing this, Hawk simply raised an eyebrow.
--
"My blood?"
The cautious, almost timid tone in Anna's voice was all the confirmation Hawk needed. He raised an eyebrow, a cold, knowing certainty settling in his mind.
So... Hydra?
His mind instantly flashed back to the moment before the Quantico job, just after he'd dealt with the would-be robber. He remembered that faint, prickling sensation of being watched from above, a fleeting but undeniable feeling of being observed.
A slow, dangerous smile touched Hawk's lips.
Just as he'd always thought, he didn't care about factions or affiliations. All that mattered was how people treated him.
And right now, HYDRA was treating him with a proposition.
His response was immediate and disarmingly casual. "Sure."
"Ah." Anna sounded like she couldn't believe he'd agreed so readily.
Hawk smiled. "How much do you need? Don't tell me you want a bucket. Even if you drained me dry, you probably wouldn't get that much."
"No, no! Just a vial will be enough."
"A vial??"
Hawk raised an eyebrow again, then laughed. "One vial is hardly worth the trouble. Tell you what, I'll give you two hundred milliliters. You can have your people draw it themselves when you deliver the meteorite."
Whatever their reasons, if Hydra was going to be generous, he certainly wouldn't be stingy.
Besides, his true power came from his Cosmo. Especially now, with the Phoenix constellation ignited, his physical body was almost an afterthought.
As long as his Cosmo burned, he could not die. Even if he were struck down, he would be reborn from the Phoenix's embers the next.
So, what's a little blood?
But then a thought struck him. In a light tone edged with steel, he added, "Anna, you should know, I'm always very generous with my friends..."
"Thank you!!" Anna's voice became excited, clearly surprised by his generosity and the offer to have them handle the blood draw.
But then another thought seemed to strike her, and her tone became cautious again. "Mr... Hawk, aren't you worried about what we might do with your blood?"
Hawk laughed. "What are you going to do? Clone me?"
"What? No, of course not!! We would never."
"Good."
Hawk, who had been studying a satellite map of Calver Lake, New Jersey, glanced at the phone, still on speaker. "As long as it's not cloning, I don't really care what you do with it."
It was just as Gwen had said: people are the weapons, not the tools they use.
Anna gives him a meteorite, he gives her his blood. It was a simple transaction. What she did with it afterward was her business.
Honestly, even if they did try to clone him, he wouldn't be that concerned.
It would just be... annoying. And it would be a shame to have to end their budding friendship so soon.
"Just one rule. Don't go making any copies of me. If you do, we won't be friends anymore. And you won't like what happens next."
"You have my word. You can rest assured on that point," Anna promised immediately.
Hawk grunted in acknowledgment, ready to end the call. "Just let me know when the meteorite is ready. I'm in no rush. As long as it's here before Christmas."
Anna agreed.
Hawk hung up, picked up the phone, and edited the new contact before saving it.
His contact list now contained exactly four people.
Gwen (Girlfriend)
Mrs. Snow (Counselor)
Peter Parker (The Spider)
Anna (HYDRA?)
That was it.
Honestly, if Gwen ever glanced at his phone, she'd know Spider-Man's secret identity instantly.
Hawk saved the number, then dismissed the matter from his mind, his focus returning to the satellite map on his computer screen.
The Hulk.
Hawk's eyes glinted.
During the long days of his training, he had prepared for two possibilities.
The first was that his power-up would be the Cosmo he remembered, which would give him the strength to get his revenge on his own terms.
The second was the Lawyer Path.
If his power had turned out to be a dud, or if it had all been a dream, he would have used the legal system to pursue his vengeance. That was the path he had set for himself—from lawyer to judge.
It would have taken years, decades even, and there was no guarantee of success.
But it would have been better than doing nothing.
Now, that second path was no longer necessary. He didn't need to rely on outside forces anymore. He had more than enough power to see this through himself.
But the Hulk was damn good at hiding.
After getting the new computer from Skye, Hawk had tried to track him, but Banner was a master at the game.
General Ross, with the full might of the United States military at his disposal, had failed to find him. What chance did he have on his own?
Then again, considering Ross hadn't been able to find him either, Hawk was starting to doubt Ross's skills at the game.
But that was no longer important.
He knew where the Hulk would be this Christmas. That was all that mattered.
This time, there would be no escape.
Hawk had actually seen the Hulk during the Battle of New York three months ago. For a moment, he had been consumed by the urge to attack.
But he wasn't a fool. Back then, he had a newly awakened Cosmo, no Phoenix constellation, and no armor. And the Hulk was surrounded by the Avengers, including a literal God of Thunder.
If Hawk had made a move then, the God of Thunder would have sided with the Hulk, no question.
So, he had suppressed the urge.
Revenge is a dish best served cold...
He had already waited over a thousand days. What was a few more?
...
His original plan had been to wait even longer, to forge his Phoenix Armor first, then go after the Hulk. A suit of Celestial armor that would let him stand toe-to-toe with the God of Thunder himself.
But now, the prey had wandered out of its den before the hunter had finished preparing his tools.
And that...
Was just fine.
When an opportunity presents itself, you take it.
Since you came to me, this is where you'll be buried.
Hawk stared at the satellite map on his screen, his eyes narrowing to slits.
"Anya..."
"Just wait a little longer. This Christmas, I will send the Hulk to Hell."
"..."
--
Time had never moved so slowly for Hawk before.
But it was now.
Christmas had always been a special time. Back at the group home, his sister, Anya, had loved it. Every Christmas Eve, a few kind-hearted staff members would hand out small, cheap gifts, and for her, it was magical.
Because of her, Hawk had come to love it too.
But after she was gone—after September 10th, 2009—he had spent that first Christmas Eve alone, having snuck into the cemetery to be with her.
Since then, he hated the holiday.
He didn't just dislike it, he found the noise and forced cheer of the holiday unbearable.
But this year, Hawk was desperately, impatiently waiting for it to arrive.
Time has a funny way of working, though. The more you watch it, the slower it goes. It's only when you're not paying attention that it seems to vanish in a flash.
Realizing this, Hawk forced himself to stop counting the days, to lock himself back into his usual, relentless routine.
And finally, the week before Christmas, Midtown Tech officially let out for the holidays.
Hawk went home with Gwen.
His plan had been to head straight to New Jersey that same day, to begin his stakeout for the Hulk. But Gwen's mother had been so insistent with her invitation that he couldn't find a polite way to refuse.
...
When they got back to the Goring Building. George hadn't returned from work yet, so Hawk went with Gwen up to her room.
He was familiar with her bedroom by now.
He walked in and sat down on the edge of her bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Gwen pulled her desk chair over and sat down, calling Mary Jane.
A few minutes later. Gwen ended the call with a laugh, set her phone aside, and turned to Hawk. "MJ was asking if we had any plans for the break. She suggested the four of us could do something together."
Hawk said. "Four of us?"
"Her and Peter."
"Well, I'll be damned..."
Hawk was taken aback for a second, then a grin spread across his face. "When did that happen?"
Gwen leaned in, her expression serious. "You're not going to believe this. Today. Right after Norman Osborn's funeral. And get this—MJ was the one who made the first move."
A look of genuine surprise crossed Hawk's face.
"For real?"
"I know, right?"
"Wow." Hawk nodded slowly. He really hadn't expected the Peter of this world to actually say yes to MJ.
But then, He thought back to last Sunday night, when Peter had tapped on his window, seeking him out to confess that he had just killed his best friend's father.
Just like in the original story, the Green Goblin, Norman Osborn, was dead.
And he had died in the same way—killed by his own glider after a failed attempt to stab Peter in the back, even after Peter had spared him.
But one detail was different.
In the original version, Harry had walked in on Peter returning his father's body. Here, that hadn't happened. Instead, right after it was over, Peter had come straight to Hawk's apartment and told him everything.
Hawk, who had just returned from his own recon trip to New Jersey, had been exhausted and in no mood for company.
He was ready to tell Peter to get lost, but the look on his face—haunted, lost, and heavy with guilt over his best friend's father's death—made him pause...
Instead, he cracked open a couple of Cokes and let Peter talk it all out.
And now, It seemed his intervention had caused a butterfly effect. Peter hadn't rejected the girl of his dreams... he had actually accepted her confession.
...
Hawk smiled and said to Gwen, "That's great. Peter's always been crazy about her."
"MJ always knew," Gwen said, then her brow furrowed. She looked at Hawk, a knowing glint in her eye. "But Peter... he's just like a certain someone I know. Pretending he doesn't care when he actually cares a lot."
Hawk met her gaze, which seemed to speak volumes.
Gwen's lips curved into a smile.
"Am I wrong?"
"No."
Hawk shook his head.
Gwen's smile widened. She blinked slowly, her eyes sparkling. "So you admit it? You've had a thing for me since freshman year?"
Hawk held her gaze, a slow smile forming on his own face. "Yes."
"I knew it." Gwen had the answer she wanted, and her happiness was radiant. She leaned her head to the side, resting it against her chair. "It was the same for me."
She understood Peter's hesitation with Mary Jane perfectly. Because she'd been through it herself.
Her smile grew more confident. "And now I'm absolutely certain Peter is Spider-Man."
"Because if he wasn't, he never would have found the courage to be with MJ."
"Right??"
"..."
Hawk looked at Gwen, who was once again trying to get him to confirm Peter's identity. He gave her the same, practiced answer. "Again, I'm not confirming anything, and I'm not denying."
Gwen shrugged. "Whatever. Now that he's with MJ, it's only a matter of time before she finds out. And when she does, she'll definitely tell me."
MJ was the biggest gossip. She might not tell anyone else, but she would absolutely tell her.
Gwen's thoughts then returned to the phone call. "So, what should I tell them? A twenty-one-day break is a long time. A couples' trip could be fun."
She looked at him, her eyes bright with anticipation.
Hawk didn't answer right away. A slight frown creased his forehead.
Gwen noticed. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure yet." Hawk thought for a moment, then gave her an apologetic smile. "I have something I need to take care of over the break. I just don't know which day it's going to be yet."
Gwen blinked. "Something you need to do?"
"Yes."
"..." Gwen watched him, then tilted her head slightly. "If I asked you what it was, would you tell me?"
Hawk met her gaze. She stared back. Their eyes locked for a long moment. He let out a soft chuckle and nodded. "If you're asking, I'll tell you."
Gwen nodded back. The next second, her expression became serious. "Okay, then. I'm asking, Hawk. Tell me."
After a long moment of silence. He spoke two words.
"Killing someone."
"..."
--
Hawk had never intended to hide things from Gwen.
At least, not since they had made their relationship official. He had never concealed his true strength or anything else from her.
There should be no secrets between lovers.
That was his own belief, reinforced by the hard-learned lessons from countless movie characters whose lives were ruined by the misunderstandings and irreversible consequences born from concealment.
Just as he'd said.
If you ask, I'll tell you.
And so, he told her—
"Killing someone."
"..."
The smile on Gwen's face froze.
See? I told you. You're not happy.
Hawk thought to himself, a wry, internal smile touching his lips. But he felt no disappointment, no sense of loss.
Gwen, at her core, was a good person.
If she had heard him say he was going to kill someone and had reacted with anything other than shock—with excitement, even—then he would have been the one to worry.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Gwen seemed to recover from the initial shock.
Her response was just as direct.
"Who?"
"The Hulk."
"Bruce Banner is back in New York?"
"No."
"Then..."
"I have intel that he'll be spending the Christmas holiday in New Jersey."
Hawk held nothing back, laying the entire plan out for her.
Gwen was silent for a moment, then a look of realization dawned on her face. "So, those weekends you spent in New Jersey... you were..."
Hawk gave a slight, grim smile. "Reconnaissance. Pre-battle preparations."
Failing to plan is planning to fail. He had gone to the location, studied the layout, and run through a dozen different combat scenarios in his head.
He had already mapped out several escape routes the Hulk might take if he tried to run.
In a word:
This Christmas, the Hulk had to die.
His sister, Anya, was waiting in Hell for him to avenge her, and he would not make her wait any longer for her vengeance.
After the Hulk, it would be the Abomination's turn.
Hawk wasn't as rushed about the Abomination. He wasn't going anywhere. Since that night, he had been locked away and controlled by the military.
Hawk even knew where he was being held—right there at the Quantico military base. He hadn't gone after him that night because some things have to be done in order.
First the Hulk, then the Abomination.
As the final piece of his plan settled in his mind, Gwen's voice cut through his thoughts, firm and resolute. "I'm going with you!"
"..."
Hawk snapped back to reality, his eyes locking with hers. He thought he must have misheard.
"What??"
"I said, I'm going with you." Gwen's gaze was unwavering, her voice firm and absolute.
Hawk almost laughed. He shook his head, a sense of absurdity washing over him.
"Gwen, I'm going to kill someone."
"I know."
"..."
Hawk stared at her, at the absolute conviction in her eyes. He tried to reason with her, a tired, pleading smile on his face. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm serious!"
"Why?"
"If you're going to Hell, I'm going with you."
"..."
Hawk fell silent. He looked at Gwen.
She looked right back at him...
After a long moment, Hawk let out a short, humorless laugh. "Are you worried I'm going to die?"
Gwen shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. "I don't know. But I know I'm not going to sit here in New York and just wait."
That was so Gwen.
Hawk was silent for another moment, then shook his head again.
"No."
"This isn't a discussion, Hawk. You know me. If I want to find you, I will." Her voice was calm. "If you win, we come back together. If you die, I go to Hell with you."
She paused, a faint, bittersweet smile touching her lips. "Besides, from the moment I ran off to Maryland and found you in that waterfall... I think maybe we were damned to go to Hell together anyway."
Go to Hell together?
Hawk looked at her, at the way she spoke of damnation as if it were a casual afternoon plan, and he couldn't help but smile. "You think Hell is a place you can just decide to visit? I haven't even—"
Gwen's brow furrowed, thinking he was trying to change the subject. "Hawk, I'm being serious."
"So am I." Hawk sighed, seeing the stern look on her face. He stood up from the bed and walked over to her, looking down at her as she sat in the desk chair.
He took a deep breath.
"Alright," he said, his voice soft but clear. "We'll go to Hell together."
Gwen stood up and wrapped her arms around him, the tension in her face melting away into a radiant smile. She held him tight, their faces close.
"Okay. Then you have to hold my hand. I don't want to get lost."
"I won't let go."
"Promise me. Swear on Anya's name."
"..."
The sudden, intimate gravity of her demand shattered the mood. Hawk looked down at her, a wry, almost pained smile on his face. "You really know how to play dirty, don't you?"
Gwen gave a slight, knowing shrug, her hands linked around his waist. She tilted her head back to look up at him. "Hawk, it's clear I know exactly how to handle you, isn't it?"
Hawk looked at her upturned, smiling face and sighed in defeat. "Yes. You absolutely do."
"Then swear, Hawk."
"Do I have to?"
"Of course."
Gwen said with a smile. "Don't think I haven't seen the movies. You'll agree to anything now, and then the moment my back is turned, you'll knock me out and leave me behind."
Damn it.
Never date a girl who's smarter than you are.
Hawk looked at his girlfriend's smiling, expectant eyes, sighed one more time, and met her gaze with a serious expression.
"We go to Hell together?"
"Together."
"Alright."
Hawk took a final, deep breath. With Gwen watching him intently, he swore on his sister Anya's name. He shook his head, a resigned look on his face.
"You happy now?"
"Almost. If you'll agree to one more thing."
"What?" Gwen's smile faded, her expression becoming completely serious. "I know you don't want to be a hero. I'm not asking you to be. But Hawk, please, don't be a villain. Try to be a decent man."
"Try to be a man who can live with himself, no matter what."
"Can you do that?"
"..."
--
In the small but cozy bedroom, Hawk and Gwen held each other in a quiet embrace.
don't be a villain. Try to be a decent man...
Gwen's words echoed in his mind like an angelic whisper.
Hawk pressed his lips together.
"I've never wanted to be a villain."
"I know." Gwen's reply was immediate and certain. She tightened her arms around him, her gaze never leaving his. "So please, keep being one of the good guys, Hawk."
The definitions of "Good" and "Evil" were often decided by public perception.
Spider-Man, for instance, was a good guy because most people loved him.
Hydra, on the other hand, was the definition of evil because most people hated them.
But perception was fickle. For everyone who loved Spider-Man, there was someone like the NYPD who despised the vigilante. And for all the hatred directed at Hydra, there were always those who secretly admired them.
But being a decent person... that didn't require a consensus. It was about being true to yourself, about being able to sleep at night without being haunted by your past.
Hawk met Gwen's gaze and gave a firm nod.
"I promise."
"Thank you." A smile bloomed on Gwen's face, radiant and pure. She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest...
Just then, the bedroom door, which had been left ajar, was pushed open from the outside.
"Gwen, dinner is—"
"Oh."
Helen stood in the doorway, seeing the two teenagers locked in an embrace. She blinked, and a smile spread across her face as she watched Gwen spring from Hawk's arms like a startled deer. "Sorry, carry on. But Gwen, honey, you really should put a 'Do not Disturb' sign on your door."
With a chuckle, Helen started to close the door.
Gwen's ears turned a shade of pink.
"Mom!" she groaned, chasing after her.
Hawk couldn't help but laugh at Helen's teasing. He followed Gwen out of the bedroom.
Tonight's dinner was a celebration for Hawk and Gwen finishing their semester, and an official congratulations for both of them receiving acceptance letters from their top-choice universities.
But unlike the first time Hawk had eaten here, things were different.
That first dinner had been formal, with separate plates and a tense atmosphere. Tonight was a relaxed, family-style meal.
The mood was cheerful and lively, mostly thanks to Gwen's two younger brothers, with Helen and Gwen adding to the chatter.
As the head of the family, George maintained his usual stern, serious expression, upholding his fatherly authority.
The two youngest, nine-year-old Howard and eight-year-old Simon, were excitedly discussing where they wanted to go for their winter vacation.
As the captain of the 19th Precinct, George's salary was enough to support his large family and still afford a couple of nice vacations each year.
Helen rested her chin on her hand, a warm smile on her face as she listened to her sons' chatter. Then, a thought occurred to her. She looked over at Hawk. "Hawk, do you have any plans for the holidays? If not, you're welcome to join us. Right, George?"
George met his wife's gaze, then glanced at Hawk, his expression unreadable. "I have no objection."
His reservations about Hawk were born from the primal instinct to protect his daughter from the 'animal' who had captured her heart.
But setting that aside, Hawk was a good kid.
That wasn't just idle praise.
Being an orphan might have been a disadvantage before, but after securing a full scholarship to NYU, it was no longer a factor.
He was the classic rags-to-riches story: a kid with a hellish start who had, through sheer force of will, carved out a promising future for himself.
A full scholarship meant he wouldn't have to worry about the crushing debt of law school. Once he graduated and passed the bar, a bright future was all but guaranteed.
Of course, that was unless he had a crisis of conscience and decided to become some pro-bono crusader for the little guy. Otherwise, with the connections from NYU Law, he'd be able to afford a new car in six months, a house in a year, and achieve financial freedom in three. It wasn't just a dream.
Hawk was about to politely decline Helen's invitation when Gwen cut in. "Mom, I don't think Hawk or I will have time."
"Why not?"
"MJ invited us to go on a trip with her over the break. We just haven't decided on a time or place yet."
"Mary Jane..."
"She's dating Peter now."
"Peter? Oh, I know him. Isn't he..."
Helen's eyes widened. She remembered that Peter was Mary Jane's neighbor. The topic was successfully derailed, and Gwen and her mother were soon deep in a gossip session about MJ and Peter's new relationship.
Apparently, gossip was a timeless, ageless pastime for women.
Helen and Gwen chatted excitedly.
...
Soon, Dinner was over. Just as before, Gwen drove him home, since he had to catch the subway.
"I thought you were going to get your driver's license. Still haven't done it?"
"I'll do it after I get back." Hawk said with a smile. The Hulk was the main event of this Christmas break.
Gwen nodded. "Okay. When are you planning on going to New Jersey?"
Hawk shook his head. "I don't know yet. I'm waiting for a call."
Anna was keeping an eye on the situation for him. The fact that she hadn't called yet meant that Bruce Banner and Betty Ross were still on schedule.
In a way, no news was good news.
He hoped the Hulk would show up at Culver University as planned. The scenery was nice. It was a good place for an eternal rest. And more importantly, it was remote. The risk of civilian casualties was low.
His own sister had been killed in the collateral damage of the fight between the Hulk and the Abomination.
He knew the pain of losing someone that way.
He refused to inflict that same pain on another family.
Just then, his phone rang.
It was Anna.
Hawk raised an eyebrow, gave Gwen a quick look, and answered the call. "Hello."
"It's time? Understood. Where?"
"I'll be there."
"See you then."
"..."
--
A few days later.
Cape Liberty Cruise Port in Bayonne, New Jersey.
Gwen parked the car, and as she stepped out, she took in the breathtaking view of the Statue of Liberty and the iconic Manhattan skyline. She let out a soft gasp of awe and turned to Hawk as he got out of the passenger side.
"I've never seen the Statue of Liberty and the Manhattan skyline from this angle before. It's beautiful, isn't it, Hawk?"
"It's alright."
Hawk gave the monument a cursory glance, his eyes sweeping over the distant city with a practiced indifference.
Gwen's mouth opened, a retort on her lips, but she just sighed. She should have known better than to discuss aesthetics with him. She quickly changed the subject.
"So, where's this friend you mentioned?"
"We're early," Hawk's voice was calm. "The meeting is at ten. It's only nine."
He had gotten the call from Anna a few nights ago, just as he was leaving Gwen's house. When Gwen had asked who it was, he had told her.
Just as he'd promised, he wouldn't hide things from her if she asked. But upon hearing that Anna was the one providing him with information, Gwen had insisted on coming along.
Hawk had agreed.
And so, here they were. Gwen had shown up at his apartment first thing in the morning, and now they were an hour early for a ten o'clock meeting.
An hour wasn't long. In what felt like the blink of an eye, ten o'clock arrived.
Right on cue, an unremarkable semi-truck rolled into the port. It gave two short blasts of its horn, catching their attention.
Hawk turned to watch as the truck slowed to a stop beside them.
The driver's side door opened.
It was Anna.
Her blonde hair was tied up in a high, neat ponytail, and she wore a pair of stylish, intellectual glasses. She hopped down from the cab, a warm smile on her face. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Hawk."
Hawk returned the smile. "For a friend, I'm a very patient man, Anna."
Anna's gaze then shifted to Gwen, and a flicker of surprise crossed her otherwise composed features. She looked back at Hawk. "And this is...?"
"Gwen. My girlfriend," Hawk said simply. "Anna. My friend."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gwen."
Hearing Hawk's introduction, Anna's smile widened. She pulled off her driving glove and extended a hand to Gwen.
Gwen shook it, her own smile polite but measured. "You too."
She had seen this woman before.
But, Gwen thought back to that day, waiting in the car, watching the woman who walked with a chilling purpose, a cold and untouchable air about her—a walking iceberg.
She couldn't reconcile that image with the warm, smiling woman standing before her now. Gwen kept the thought to herself, pushing her curiosity down.
After shaking Gwen's hand, Anna turned her attention back to Hawk. "So, is this enough?"
"Let's see..."
Hawk nodded. Anna turned and led him to the back of the truck's trailer.
Gwen followed close behind.
As the trailer doors swung open, Hawk's eyes widened. The entire container was filled, almost to the brim, with iron meteorites.
Gwen gasped, staring at the massive haul.
Anna patted the side of the container and looked at Hawk with a satisfied smile. "Sorry, this was a bit rushed. I could only find thirty tons. If it's not enough, I can have my people find more."
Hawk felt a muscle in his jaw twitch.
Rushed? Thirty tons? Not enough?
Okay. No doubt about it now. It's Hydra!!
In the entire world, besides government-level entities, only an organization like Hydra would have the resources to gather thirty tons of iron meteorites in just three months.
The thoughts raced through Hawk's mind, but his expression remained calm. He looked at Anna and smiled. "It's more than enough. I'm very satisfied. Thank you."
How many meteorites did it take to forge a Saint Armor?
What he truly needed wasn't the meteorites themselves, but the Stardust Sand he could create by grinding them down with the power of his Cosmo.
But even so, thirty tons was a staggering amount. It was enough to forge the Phoenix Armor with plenty to spare for the next one.
Hearing his answer, Anna's smile grew even wider. She patted the container again. "So, do you want to haul it away, or—"
"..."
She didn't get to finish her sentence. Hawk was already moving.
The next second, Anna's eyes widened, her pupils contracting as she watched what happened next.
She saw Hawk walk straight up to the open trailer. He took a deep breath, and as he extended his right hand, the thirty tons of meteorites inside began to vanish, piece by piece, as if drawn by an unseen force.
From a perspective only Hawk could see.
Hawk's Cosmo had projected itself into reality, a slowly rotating black hole that was pulling the meteorites into its depths.
Within that inner universe, the Phoenix constellation flared like a star going supernova.
The meteorites, once inside his Cosmo, would be pulverized by its power, ground into a fine silver dust. This dust would then be drawn into the Phoenix constellation and refined by its ethereal flames, becoming one of the three essential materials for his Saint Armor: Stardust Sand.
But just like with the Gammanium, the process would take time. A Saint Armor was a living thing; the longer it had to mature and absorb power, the stronger it would become.
...
In the blink of an eye, the entire thirty-ton payload had vanished.
Anna could only stare in stunned silence. Beside her, Gwen was equally shocked by the bizarre, impossible scene.
Having finished, Hawk showed the first sign of strain, a flicker of fatigue in his eyes.
After all, this universe had no Saints. If the Marvel Universe was a video game, his power system wasn't part of its native code.
He could burn his Cosmo to manifest it in reality, but compared to how it would work in its home universe, it was like trying to run software on incompatible hardware. It worked, but it was inefficient—twice the effort for half the result.
But he already had a solution for that.
Just as he had an idea on how to increase the power of his armor over time.
Those were problems for later, though. First, he needed to actually forge the armor.
Hawk let out a slow breath, the weariness in his eyes vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He looked at the still-stunned Anna and extended his right arm. "Let's do this."
Anna snapped out of her trance, a confused look on her face.
Hawk smiled. "200 milliliters isn't going to cut it this time."
Anna's eyes widened in understanding.
But before her expression could change, Hawk spoke again, his voice calm and steady.
"I'll give you 400."
"..."
--
In the sunlight, the blood glittered like starlight as it was slowly drawn from his body and into the blood bag.
Hawk sat in the chair, squeezing a grip strengthener in his hand while gazing at the distant Statue of Liberty on Liberty Island.
Anna watched with a look of reverence, her eyes fixed on the blood pooling in the bag as if gazing upon a holy relic.
Just then—
A phone rang.
Anna took out her phone, glanced at the caller ID, and after a quick apology to Hawk, she stepped away to take the call.
Gwen, who had been sitting quietly to the side, shot a glance at Anna before turning to Hawk, lowering her voice.
"So, let me get this straight. You traded 400 milliliters of your blood for an entire truckload of iron meteorites?"
"Yep." Hawk nodded slightly, looking at Gwen. "Do you think I got the better end of the deal?"
Gwen opened her mouth, then closed it. From a purely monetary perspective, there was no question. Hawk had made out like a bandit. After all, how much could you get for selling blood?
According to the latest rates from New York's blood banks, 400 milliliters of blood would get you about a hundred and fifty dollars.
But iron meteorites??
Gwen had just looked it up. Just last week, a thirty-five-kilogram iron meteorite had sold for two hundred and ten thousand dollars at a New York auction house.
If you did the math, Thirty tons of iron meteorites would be worth over one hundred and seventy-nine million dollars.
Gwen's brow furrowed as she looked at him. "Hawk, this isn't just any blood. Yours is..."
"How about this, then?"
Hawk met her gaze with a calm smile. "I'll call off the deal, give Anna back her meteorites, and tomorrow, I'll just go... appropriate the ones Osborn and Stark have in their collections. That should be enough, and I won't have to give up a single drop of blood. How does that sound?"
Gwen stared at him, speechless for a moment.
Then, seeing the teasing glint in his eyes, she realized he was joking and rolled her own in response. "Okay, fine. But you know what your blood can do. Aren't you worried that Anna will—"
She cut herself off as Anna finished her call and started walking back toward them.
Hawk understood Gwen's unspoken fear.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "I made a deal with Anna. No cloning. That's the only rule. Besides, this is a one-time thing. And selling my blood is a lot closer to being a 'Good guy' than being a highway robber, wouldn't you say?"
Gwen fell silent. When faced with a choice between selling his blood and becoming a superpowered cat burglar, the answer was obvious. It was better than the alternative.
...
At that moment, Anna returned, a look of excitement on her face.
"I have an update," she said to Hawk. "Tony Stark's private jet, which landed in Bangalore yesterday, has just taken off. It's scheduled to arrive at two P.M. on the 22nd at a private airfield thirty kilometers from Culver Lake."
A sharp, intense light flashed in Hawk's eyes. "Are you sure?"
"It's confirmed." Anna handed Hawk a small, palm-sized tablet. On the screen was airport surveillance footage. It clearly showed Bruce Banner boarding a private jet.
Hawk smiled, then glanced at Gwen. "Well, that's a relief. You won't have to make up an excuse to ditch your mom on Christmas Eve."
The twenty-fourth was Christmas Eve.
He had been worried that the Hulk wouldn't show up until the twenty-fourth. Now, with any luck, this would all be over by tonight.
Gwen didn't respond to that, instead asking, "Tony Stark's private jet? But I thought Tony Stark was missing?"
It was true. Tony Stark had vanished again. Last time it was in the Middle East. This time, it was right here in Los Angeles. And this time, his Malibu mansion was nothing but rubble—payback for publicly declaring war on the Mandarin last week.
Of course, Hawk knew this Mandarin—the one responsible for the Extremis virus—was just an actor. The real one was probably too busy trying to resurrect his dead wife to be bothered with any of this.
...
"Stark might be missing, but his company is still running," Anna explained. "The flight was probably scheduled weeks ago. But we have a theory."
"What is it?"
"We think Banner is coming early because he heard about what happened to Tony. He's coming to help."
"...That's possible—" Hawk nodded thoughtfully.
A moment later, a dry, humorless chuckle escaped him. He handed the tablet back to Anna. "—Well, if I get the chance, I'll have to be sure to thank Tony Stark."
If it weren't for Stark's dramatic disappearance, Bruce Banner probably wouldn't have shown up until Christmas Eve.
But now, Iron Man was missing, and the Hulk was arriving ahead of schedule. From that perspective, Hawk really did owe him one.
Anna smiled but said nothing. She put the tablet away and, seeing that the blood bag was full, quickly and carefully removed the needle from Hawk's arm. The moment the needle was out, the puncture mark on Hawk's arm healed completely in the blink of an eye.
Hawk rolled down his sleeve and stood up from the chair.
Anna placed the blood bag into a hand-held, cryogenic briefcase with the care one would reserve for a priceless jewel.
With a soft click, she locked it, a look of profound relief on her face.
Anna then looked up at Hawk. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Hawk smiled, then glanced at Gwen. He said nothing more, instead taking her hand and leading her toward the yellow Corolla parked nearby.
Anna stood and watched them go.
Gwen got into the driver's seat, started the car, and looked at Hawk in the passenger seat. Even though she already knew the answer, she asked anyway. "So, where to now?"
Hawk turned to her, a sharp smile on his face. "Culver!"
"TIME FOR A LITTLE PAYBACK!"
"..."
--
In the blink of an eye, the yellow Corolla was gone, disappearing down the road.
Just as it vanished, a fiery red sports car, its engine a low growl, pulled up and stopped smoothly in front of Anna. Her expression, which had softened in Gwen's presence, now reverted to a mask of cold, efficient professionalism.
A burly subordinate in a black suit emerged from the driver's side.
"Take this to the base," Anna commanded, her voice clipped and precise.
"Understood."
She removed the sunglasses clipped to her blouse, slid them on, and handed over the reinforced briefcase containing the 400ml of Hawk's blood. Without another word, she slipped into the passenger seat of the sports car.
The engine roared to life, and the car peeled away, vanishing as quickly as it had arrived.
The subordinate, his face an impassive mask, turned and walked back toward the docks, the valuable briefcase held firmly in his hand.
A few minutes later, Anna, now clear of the port, made a call. It connected instantly.
"Anna."
"Sir. The transaction is complete. However, there was a minor complication."
"Explain."
"Gwen Stacy was present."
"Hm?" The voice on the other end was surprised, but only for a moment. "It seems his attachment to her is genuine."
"Yes, sir," Anna confirmed.
Just then, a third voice, arrogant and dismissive, cut in on the line. "Sir, if that's the case, why don't we just use the girl—"
"SILENCE."
"NO."
The superior's sharp command and Anna's firm rejection came at the exact same instant. The third man was clearly taken aback. After a curt "Get out" from the superior, the sound of retreating footsteps echoed over the line.
Once he was gone, the superior's voice returned, calm and calculating. "Anna, your reasoning."
"Sir, Hawk bringing her here means one of two things: either he's a fool, or he's supremely confident. I do not believe he is a fool... After our initial call, he must have guessed we were from..."
She trailed off, choosing her words carefully. Even on a secure line, some names were best left unspoken.
The superior chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Indeed. Issue a directive: no one is to take any action against Gwen Stacy. Our relationship with Hawk is, for the moment, beneficial."
"And besides," He continued, his voice taking on a thoughtful, almost philosophical tone, "When a Demon King puts on his own shackles, the last thing you want to do is touch them. Do that, and you're not fighting a man anymore—you're unleashing the very monster he was trying to chain."
"Let him believe he has a weakness to protect. It keeps him manageable."
"Understood, sir."
"Maintain the current relationship, Anna. Our cooperation is proving to be very... fruitful."
"Yes, sir."
With her report concluded, Anna ended the call. Her focus returned to the road, the sports car a red blur as it sped toward the distant lights of Manhattan.
...
Heading in the opposite direction, Gwen's yellow Corolla ate up the miles, carrying them toward Culver University.
She glanced at Hawk, who had leaned his head back against the passenger seat the moment they'd gotten in. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and measured.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Conserving my energy," he replied without opening his eyes. "Getting into the right state of mind. The Hulk isn't an easy kill."
It wasn't just the Hulk's incredible regenerative abilities; it was the fundamental, terrifying core of his power.
The angrier he gets, the stronger he gets.
Theoretically, the Hulk was immortal. When Iron Man snapped his fingers, he died. When the Hulk did it—he just lost the use of one arm.
And "lost" wasn't even the right word. It was just injured, something that would heal with time.
Fortunately, this was the cinematic universe, not the comics. Here, the Hulk could be beaten.
Thanos had almost done it. If the Hulk hadn't been saved by the Bifrost, the Mad Titan would have finished the job. That single defeat had been so absolute, so devastating, that the Hulk had refused to emerge again, no matter how much Banner pleaded.
So, the "the angrier he gets, the stronger he gets" theory had its limits.
As Hawk reviewed his mental file on the target, Gwen was doing the same, recalling the articles and videos she had researched over the past few days.
"So, the plan..." she began.
"He has to die."
Hawk opened his eyes and turned to look at her, a small, confident smile on his face. "He's hard to kill, not impossible."
The strategy was simple, if brutally direct.
An overwhelming, lightning-fast assault from the very beginning. End the fight before it could truly start. Never give the Hulk a chance to get angry.
Gwen said nothing, but he could see the worry in her eyes.
Hawk saw it, and his smile softened. "You know, I did consider another plan."
"What?"
"Kidnap Betty Ross. Force Banner to surrender."
"...Hawk!" Gwen stared at him, horrified.
He just chuckled. "I rejected it, of course."
She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Why?"
"Because those who start a cycle of evil will find it visited upon their own,"
Hawk's expression grew serious. "My fight is with the Hulk and the Abomination, no one else. They are the ones responsible for my sister's death. If I were to vent my anger on innocent people, how would I be any different from them?"
This was his line in the sand. His vengeance had a target, and he would not allow it to become a blind, all-consuming fire.
"Of course..." he added, a genuine warmth in his eyes as he looked at her, "—you asked me to be a good man, remember? I have no need for cheap tricks or dirty tactics. He will know why I have come for him. And he will know why he is about to die."
Gwen looked at him, at the absolute, unshakeable confidence in his expression, and her own fears began to subside. She smiled back.
"I believe in you, Hawk."
Hawk's smile softened. "Thanks. After I kill the Hulk, we can finally go on that trip with Mary Jane and—"
"HAWK!" Gwen cut him off, her voice sharp.
"What?"
"Don't jinx it! You said so yourself!"
"...Right. My bad."
Hawk saw the dead serious look on her face and wisely chose to concede. He raised a finger to his lips and made a zipping motion.
Gwen's expression relaxed back into a smile. She turned her attention back to the road.
...
2:00 PM.
High above a private airfield twenty miles north of Culver University, a sleek, private jet descended from the clouds. The landing gear lowered as the aircraft, its fuselage emblazoned with the iconic STARK INDUSTRIES logo, began its final approach.
--
The roar of the jet engines softened to a whine as the private plane touched down, its tires kissing the asphalt of the secluded airfield.
The moment it rolled to a stop, the cabin door swung open.
Leaning against the sleek lines of a sky-blue sports car was Natasha Romanoff. She was dressed in a black tactical suit that hugged her every curve, a practical yet undeniably striking choice.
A genuine smile broke across her face as she pushed away from the car, walking to meet the man who now stood at the top of the stairs, a simple duffel bag in his hand.
"Bruce."
"Natasha."
Dr. Bruce Banner descended the steps, and their embrace was brief but warm—the easy familiarity of soldiers who had bled together.
The Avengers, forged in the crucible of the New York invasion, were no longer just a team, they were friends.
"So, Tony's really missing?" Bruce asked as they got into the car, his voice low.
"And Pepper..."
Natasha confirmed, her eyes fixed on the road as she expertly guided the sports car off the airfield. "The latest intel says she's been taken, too."
Bruce drew in a sharp breath. "The Mandarin?"
"All the evidence points to him—" she said with a slight shake of her head. "But there's a debate within the agency about whether this is the real Mandarin of legend."
Bruce's brow furrowed. He settled into the plush passenger seat. "What about the others? Steve?"
"He's in London."
"Thor? I thought he was going to find Jane."
"Hasn't returned yet."
"And Clint?"
"Tied up on a mission in Europe. Can't be reached."
"..."
So, I'm the only one on call, then.
A weary smile touched Bruce's lips. He looked at Natasha, a hint of apology in his eyes. "But I made a promise to Betty. You know this was my last chance to fix things."
After the Battle of New York, after he had willingly transformed, he had found something new: a fragile, tentative balance point between himself and the Hulk. As long as he maintained it, he could control the change.
Of course, he still couldn't control the Hulk himself. The Other Guy was just too savage.
But it was enough...
Enough to earn him a presidential pardon for his past rampages.
Enough, with the backing of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the world's gratitude, to finally reach out to Betty without fearing that her monstrous father would hunt him down for dissection.
This Christmas vacation was supposed to be their chance to heal.
Natasha's expression softened. "We found traces of an unknown energy signature at one of the attack sites. You're the world's foremost expert in that field. And this won't take long, Bruce. We think we've already found Tony's location."
Bruce's eyes lit up. "Where?"
"Rose Hill, Tennessee."
"Tenness—" Bruce paused, confused. "Then why aren't we flying there now?"
A knowing smile played on Natasha's lips. She gestured to the duffel bag at his feet. "I figured you might have brought gifts. I thought you'd want to drop them off at your and Betty's cabin first. If they got lost or broken on the flight over, you'd be in a pretty bad mood."
The reason was surprisingly thoughtful.
Bruce considered it, then nodded. "That's a very good point. So, we're stopping by the cabin in Culver first, then heading to Tennessee?"
Natasha nodded. "That's the plan. How's that for service?"
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you, Natasha."
"Don't mention it."
...
The drive from the airfield to the lakeside cabin Bruce and Betty had rented was only thirty miles. With Natasha behind the wheel of a high-performance sports car, it took them almost no time.
The engine died, and the two car doors opened in quick succession.
Natasha stepped out, removing her sunglasses as she took in the idyllic scene. The cabin was nestled between a dense forest and the calm, clear waters of the lake, which shimmered under the afternoon sun.
"This place is beautiful," she said, genuinely impressed. "Did you find it yourself, or was it Betty?"
"Betty did." Bruce pulled his duffel bag from the car, a shy smile on his face.
...
Natasha watched as he entered a code and disappeared inside. She was about to get back in the car to wait, ready to head for Tennessee the moment he returned.
But just as she turned, a flicker of movement at the edge of the woods caught her eye.
A young man was walking toward them, his steps calm and deliberate...
It was Hawk.
He had promised to bring Gwen here, but not to the meeting itself. He had left her in a safe, concealed spot with a clear line of sight, and had approached alone.
Hawk had expected Bruce Banner to be by himself.
He hadn't planned on the Black Widow being here too.
Hawk continued his approach, his eyes locked with Natasha's, his mind already recalibrating.
Natasha's relaxed posture vanished, replaced by a tense, coiled readiness. Her brow furrowed. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Bruce Banner."
"..."
Natasha's eyes narrowed, her body shifting into a combat stance. "Who are you, and how do you know he's here?"
As she spoke, her right hand moved, resting casually but purposefully on the sidearm holstered at her hip.
Hawk glanced at her defensive posture but paid it no mind.
Because at that moment, the cabin door opened, and Bruce Banner stepped back outside.
Bruce saw Natasha, poised and ready to strike, and the calm, smiling young man standing before her. He froze, confused.
Hawk's smile widened as he looked at the man who had just emerged.
"Bruce Banner?"
"I am," Bruce said, his eyes darting between Hawk and Natasha. "And you are...?"
"Hawk."
"Anya's brother."
"..."