Technicalities and my Rubbish secret keeping skills

Having taken a taxi, my mask not with me, I was 2 minutes late for the expected 15-minute deadline. "Hey Nate, how was your study group?" Pete asked as I slammed the door of the meeting room open, then realised my mood. "Aren't both Betty and MJ fairly good at English? Did you get forced to do the work?" Ignoring him and glaring at Clint, my ghoulish left eye simmering with fury, "I want you to know that I meant what I promised. Honestly, who the hell interrupts someone as they're ENJOYING their situation?"

"Sorry Nathan, but the warehouse was recorded having a large number of guns moved into it, including some weapons that utilise chitauri technology, based on the energy readings. Your position as a leader means you will be on call at any time, even if you're with your girlfriends."

"Okay firstly, still pissed. Secondly, why should we care, the weapons made using chitauri tech are more toys than weapons, and normal guns are harder to detect."

"Because people will see these weapons, and begin to try it themselves," he said with a frown, as if I hadn't realised the danger.

"So like when Shield tried the same thing with the Tesseract?" I ask a knowing smile on my features. "Besides, I'd bet everything on Earth that as soon as the wreckage was in government property they immediately tried to do the same thing on a grander scale. So again, why should I care?" Taking some specially labelled meat skewers I start eating them, as we wait for Kate, who arrives puffing at the door, dishevelled an understatement. I recap the mission, "Warehouse has guns and alien tech, go in, kill everyone, and I assume take the weapons before handing them to Shield for their collection."

Clint, ignoring my barbed comment, simply affirmed my outline, "Yes, Kate will be on overwatch during this, while Leviathan and Spiderman sneak into the warehouse and deal with the inhabitants." Showing a group of earpieces he continues, "I will be listening in to your conversation and helping with the cleanup of alien tech, is that understood?" Seeing us nod, he allowed us time to change and prepare. Looking at the new suit I'd been given, a skin-tight look-alike of the black-agent venom suit, clinging to my slightly improved muscular form. If before I had looked like I had a junkie's body, skeletal in design, now I had a lean athletic build, still similar to Pete's, which is fortunate or else wearing this suit would have been somewhat embarrassing. ' I can practically hear, Oh look, a stick insect.' The symbol on the chest piece had been replaced with an outline of my namesake, but in a vivid red, similar to the kagune and needles.

Pete stood appraising my new suit, "Nate, you look like a supervillain. Which actually kind of fits with you being a flesh-eating tentacle monster." The only thing that prevented him from being slapped by my kagune was his Peter Tingle, as he flipped backwards and out of reach. The small crater in the floor where he'd been standing, incentivising Pete to stop talking, I leave the room, following the sounds of Kate and Clint talking about arrows. 'What a bunch of nerds, all of them.'

"You guys finished talking about your pointy sticks yet? I want to get there, find no one in there, and watch you explain to Laura how badly you fucked up." Kate, confused by my words just stayed quiet, looking for clues as to what the conversation was about. "Don't worry, I got glowing recommendations from my last partner, so she'll be fine." Clint's face hardened as I continued, obviously deciding whether to shoot me a few times.

"You used to be so polite."

"Well maybe, you should have waited an hour after I explained that I was busy."

At the Warehouse-

"Leviathan, Spiderman, I can't see any guards on the roof or surrounding it, so they might be inside." Perking my ears for a second I hear movement, but not from inside the warehouse, but somehow under it. As if the sound was being carried into the warehouse through a corridor.

"Reporting to Robin, there's no one inside either, but there is a tunnel leading out under the warehouse." My patience was now thin, I simply walked up to the doors, broke the lock and walked in, following the sounds until I found the basement.

Pete coming up behind me, follows as I drop down, "So where's the sound coming from?" Looking at his suit, the same as from Civil War, I laugh about the Baby Monitor Protocols, gesturing to the hole in the wall that led down a dark tunnel out of the warehouse and towards another building. Or that should be right based on the mental map I made earlier as I scanned for escape routes people might use. Summoning 2 needles and walking in, we walk for a short while, placing us almost directly at the docks, under them to be precise.

Hearing voices chattering in Russian, I report back, "A tunnel found in the basement leads under another warehouse at the docks, filled with Russians. Robin, can you move around and give me a visual of overhead?" The order followed quickly and provided me with knowledge of the 20-something heavily armed thugs waiting above, loading weapons into boats to be transported elsewhere to other dangerous hands.

Spiderman launched into the room, trapping a handful of them to their environment, his webs far too strong for a human to break free from, limiting the number of opponents. Stabbing one in the back, my kagune form, like needled vines, raking around the room, piercing and crushing any in contact, with Peter weaving between them with a gymnastic-level performance of acrobatics, punching and slamming those he could reach, and webbing those who tried to flee. Finishing the room clean with a flick of a barbed tentacle, launching over a dozen knife-like needles into the last two standing armed and free. A cursory check using my senses reveals the building clear of hostiles, as I report it back. "Building secured, 17 dead, 6 captured. Hey Clint, seeing as there was nothing in that other warehouse, should I start planning the date now?"

Kate's voice perked up through the comms, "Date? Who's got a date?"

"Nathan, the tunnel led from the warehouse, so it is still part of the same building."

"Right, but that's total crap and you know it, there was nothing IN the warehouse, not guns, no people, nothing, so I win."

Laughing back at Kate, "Me, in about a year from now." Kate obviously more confused than ever was silent again, and we hear the sound of Clint approaching with a group of Shield personnel to clean up the surroundings, footsteps heavy and rapid. The ride back was quiet, as Clint just sat glowering at me as I text May, telling her Peter and I would have dinner out, telling her we were safe and unharmed. "So what do you eat? Because Peter's a really fussy eater."

"I'M the fussy eater?!" he said, turning towards me. "You refused to eat anything but chicken nuggets for like a year."

"And? That was ages ago."

"It was 3 years ago, not to mention your needs now."

Turning my gaze to Clint, "About that, I think I have an idea on how to get information from those we captured," a soft smile resting on my lips. The sick-looking green that coloured Clint and Peter's faces for a moment showed they understood, but Clint just nodded, knowing how effective it would be, if psychologically scarring. While waiting for the ordered food to arrive, I took 2 of the prisoners into a room and locked the door, undoing the zip across my mouth and revealing the kagune, writhing along the room like serpents. Remembering which one was barking orders to the others in the warehouse, I pick the other one, grabbing his leg and biting directly from it, eliciting screams of pain and horror from the prisoners. Permeating the room with my fear pheromone, and being as animalistic as I could as I tore into his subordinate, the boss looked frozen, the fear ever-present on his face, and the smell of urine seeping from his crotch.

"Tell you what," I say licking my fingers. "If you tell me where and from who you got the alien/ human hybrid tech, I won't eat you. I can just put a bullet in your head. A nice, quick, peaceful death. Not like your friend, ripped apart and eaten, screaming horribly the whole time."

A look of hope blossoms on the prisoner, his head nodding like a bobblehead, spilling his secrets. "Some older guy, with wings and a mask. Kind of looked like a flight helmet thing, but he was definitely an older white guy. He came and offered us an upgraded arsenal if we helped promote his gear and bring him some of the scraps from the invasion in New York. I swear that's all I know, he flew in, made his pitch. Killed one of my guys, then flew off. Oh, he looked kinda like a vulture with a fluffy neck. Please don't eat me. Please." A sudden needle through his skull from behind took him quickly, the information recorded to provide an explanation as to why a Mr Toomes might disappear should he continue his trade. Joining everyone at the table, lunchbox in hand as I relax into the sofa.

Kate looks at me weirdly, "You showered? Why, you were clean when we got back?" Instead allowing Peter to try and make up an excuse I play the recording of my interrogation, minus the eating people thing at the beginning as I'd only recorded once I started talking. As I ate, I realised they were staring at me, dumbfounded, with Kate apprehensive.

"What?" Putting down my phone, I question my fellow diners.

Pete leaned in slightly, whispering ineffectively as the room was silent, every word audible to the two archers, "You forgot to remove the bit where you promised not to eat him, and described yourself eating the other guy." Now understanding the issue I shift my gaze to Kate.

"Now can you see why my meals are specially labelled?" I joke, in an attempt to lighten the mood, failing miserably. *Sigh* 'How am I so shit at keeping secrets, somehow even Pete is better than me.' "When I said I'm not quite human, I meant it, I was affected by something similar to a mutation, which prevented me from digesting human food, not only tasting foul, but making me sick, with the exception of coffee and liquor. I have never eaten an innocent person, nor do I intend to. Like the Leviathan of myths I would only eat the wicked, and maybe left-handed people but that's a personal thing. I'm still a regular guy, just stuck with an unfortunate dietary requirement."

Leaning back into the backrest and pulling out my phone again, I notice another news post, this time having filmed me and Peter clearing out the docks, with the headline, "Hero or Murderer?" Passing the phone to Peter he grimaces, annoyed that we were being labelled as masked lunatics for killing criminals. "And what's worse, you didn't even kill any of them." But the image, taken from the park across from the docks revealed only part of the events. 'May's gonna have a fit hearing about this.'