Deadly Stories
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IM/DC Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2024-03-26 04:27:39 +0000 UTCWith the fun being had and my wounds being healed I decided to look for a new place to live. While I could live in the poorer parts of the city, if someone broke in and stole my money I’d be in the same spot as the Penguin I stole from. After checking out a few single apartments and finding nothing that really stood out to me I decided to look for ones with roommates.
Hoping for something good I ended that after the first day. Same for the second of searching for a home. The third day while I was just about to throw in the towel I entered an old timey house that had been split into four sections. A single large scale home had been converted into eight separate living residences.
While it was designed with communal living in mind it had plenty of bathrooms and a well stocked kitchen you wouldn’t find in New York for even twice the price they were asking for rent. After meeting several of the residents and recognizing one I knew I had to move in as soon as possible.
I wouldn’t need to be as quiet either on account of the thick wall probably filled with asbestos separating the sections. The loud rock I heard from upstairs only came through above my closet. The owner of the property wanted to fill it as quickly as she could for some reason and I thought I was a good enough judge of character to know if she was trying to rip me off.
When I said that I meant beyond the normal ripping off that happens to a tenant. I don’t think she looked like the type that would try to break into my freshly stolen safe and steal my money. She might snoop but besides the ten packs of stolen condoms in my stolen dresser drawer she wouldn’t find anything incriminating.
I decided to go introduce myself to the neighbors. If shit ever hit the fan it always helped to have the neighbors good intentions. If I didn’t get along with any of them it would be fairly easy to get them to move out as well. The lasagna in Mary Jane's fridge that I know for sure she didn’t make also led me to think of buying some cooking equipment for the shared kitchen.
I spent the rest of the day moving furniture in and buying/stealing stuff I needed for the new bigger house. Just as I finished up I got a knock on my door and who else but Hawkeye had shown up. I deadpanned my reaction when I said.
“If this is a booty call I’ll just let you know now that I’m not interested in dudes.” He stood still at the doorway for a few seconds before coming in. He sat on one of the newly stolen couches I had. Even though I could afford it if there’s no chance of getting caught, why even bother buying things.
I still had the mini fridge and handed him a beer from the same pack I kept for guests as I got another fruit punch for myself. As we sat in companionable silence for a few moments he broke it first. “So you’ve seen my future or alternate versions of me at least. What exactly happens?”
While I was half tempted to not tell him anything I knew for the sake of his sanity I’d tell him. “Alright so most of the stuff that happened involves alternate universes besides this one which had the Crush happen. So you could meet someone from the alternate universe and be happy but that’s really unlikely. Most of the real goody two shoes end up with very tragic backstories.”
I took a sip of my fruit punch before continuing. “Like spiderman for example. The kid is a literal genius on par with Tony Stark but he got in his own head and would rather save people by dressing up like that instead of making a business which could help far more people in the long run.”
I really think about it. “Actually that’s most of the geniuses that fight crime. Batman could have donated five million to the police force every year for the rest of his life but instead of doing that he torpedoes his career by dressing up in a bat costume. He could have done more as Bruce Wayne to fight crime but now they want to cut him from his own company because he’s costing them far more money.”
I kind of got distracted by talking comics and forgot what he asked. “So I’m not even sure who you’re married to in this timeline. Like I said, most comics that show you living into old age you’re alone with one of your kids trying to kill you. I guess just have fun and try to die young… That’s not really a good point is it?”
“I guess you could have Nat kill your enemies and make sure your kids don’t become super villains.” I sat there quietly after speaking. I wasn’t sure why I said that and I hoped that I wasn’t being written as a love interest for Natasha. My eyes went wide as I asked. “Oh fuck is Natasha your wife? That happens in one of the comics.”
He burst out laughing. “Hahaha What? Really? I mean I guess if you see enough different universes that would be possible but she’s more of a little sister to me.”
“If I were to guess it’s either Laura Barton or Bobbi Morse. Those are your two big ones you end up with in most timelines. If you have a daughter she ends up becoming Hawkeye after you quit and then becoming Ronan after where she’ll die to the yakuza. If you have a son he also becomes Hawkeye but eventually becomes the Bloody bow.”
I didn’t want to tell him what his son in that alternate universe had done. After his wife left him stealing everything from him in the divorce that he went insane. How do you tell someone that their son bombed a bank killing dozens for his debut as a super villain. He slaughtered his ex-wife and hung her parents with her intestines to make up for her betrayal.
“You don’t want to know why he’s called that if I’m being honest and... For all it’s worth I hope he doesn't go down the same path being honest.”
