Woven webs 》Peter Parker

Sins cost a hefty price

A/N: Again this chapter is inspired by Blackwidow: No Restrains Play. However it is NOT canon

Nayla walked into the quinjet. Her heavy combat boots thudding with every step. Clad in her new improved suit, she felt powerful. Or maybe it is because she is playing the hand of justice and vengeance for the innocent and wronged.

Her knee-high combat boots had knee padding. She insisted on not replacing the skirt, after all she preferred them compared to pants. Mainly due how uncomfortable the skintight suit felt on her thighs. The black material covered everything up to her neck and her wrists. Her fists clenched and un-clenched, feeling the fingerless gloves. Her mask covered the top half of her face, ears and a thin strip of the sides of her face.

Once she sat on the copilot's seat, she pulled off her mask. It already felt suffocating. She glanced at Natasha as she very much aggressively flipped switches and punched the buttons. "Who pissed in your coffee this morning?" Humour is how Nayla tried to mask her caring nature towards the redhead.

The two always danced on the edge of sarcasm to display how much they cared for each other. "Oh, it's Steve!" Nayla guessed. "The senior is playing morality and virtue police again. DonT gO hARd On thEm. They were running a trafficking ring and I am supposed to take into consideration their physical wellbeing?" Nat went off as she complained about how Captain America tried to lecture her.

The jet jerked as Natasha took off with fume slithering out of her ears. "It's all black and white to him, this is exactly why the Dark Avengers programme is a secret. Imagine how he would react if he found out that Bucky is involved as well." Nayla said as she stared at the sky. It felt odd to her how she was among the clouds but she couldn't feel the wind rush through her scalp. Steve would fail to see how Bucky and Nat are using their aliases for good, to him it is an act of surrendering to their foes' wills.

"He is not a saint either, Cap is trying to redeem himself of the lives he took in his journey of heroism. He repents his sins through vicariously living through our experiences." Natasha analysed.

The sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon when the quinjet landed in a safe house. The pair strutted out, jaws went slack and eyes widened. THE black widow was in Madripoor, with a winged companion. Black widow paid no mind, "We are heading to a friend of mine, she is the closest thing here to law." Natasha said.

Madripoor was like no other. Neon signs overwhelmed Nayla's eyesight, it reeked of acid and smoke. Walking on the concrete were aliens and other beings. Some barely looked human, maybe she wasn't so alone after all. "You fucking bitch you can't even please a man right." A voice yelled as the vigilantes snapped their heads towards the fiasco.

A man grabbed a young woman and yanked her hair. He pulled her towards his car. Natasha and Nayla ran towards them. "Hide inside." Nat ordered the other girls, her voice cold and low. Nayla silently observed, she heard their heart beat in an unsteady rhythm, their breaths shallow. She heard one of the men surrounding them load his gun. The man raised his gun, the girl weeping under his grasp. In a mere second, Natasha shot him with her widow bites. All hell broke loose. The black widow and Nayla were an unstoppable force. The men laid on the ground, limbs twisted and contorted at absurd angles. Some twitched with pain while some sobbed.

"Tyger Tiger, long time no see." Natasha smirked as she walked up to the tall and elegant woman draped in gold and silk. "Black widow, I see your questionable taste in fashion is less questionable today." She snarked back, as she glanced behind her. "And who is this... angel? Or hybrid?" Tiger tilted her head in apprehension. "Call me by any alias till I find one." Nayla stretched her hand to shake that of Tyger. The three went in to the Princess Bar. "This is Ed, our IT guy." Tyger introduced. While Natasha acknowledged him, Nayla only glared. He smelled fishy; her guts are never wrong.