With the fun being had and my wounds being healed I decided to look for a new pce 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 cheg 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 ehat after the first day. Same for the sed of searg for a home. The third day while I was just about to throw iowel I entered an old timey house that had been split into four ses. A single rge scale home had been verted i separate living residences.

  While it was designed with unal living in mind it had plenty of bathrooms and a well stocked kit you wouldn’t find in New York for even twice the price they were asking for rent. After meeting several of the residents and reizing one I knew I had to move in as soon as possible.

  I wouldn’t o be as quiet either on at of the thick robably filled with asbestos separating the ses. The loud rock I heard from upstairs only came through above my closet. The owner of the property wao 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 s 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 neighbood iions. If I didn’t get along with any of them it would be fairly easy to get them to move out as well. The sagna 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 kit.

  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 knoy door and who else but Hawkeye had shown up. I deadpanned my rea when I said.

  “If this is a booty call I’ll just let you know now that I’m not ied in dudes.” He stood still at the doorway for a few seds before ing i on one of the newly stolen couches I had. Even though I could afford it if there’s no ce 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 fuests as I got another fruit punyself. As we sat in panionable 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 tinuing. “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 gehat 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 e. He could have done more as Bruce Wayo fight crime but now they want to cut him from his own pany because he’s costing them far more money.”

  I kind of got distracted by talking id fot what he asked. “So I’m not even sure who you’re married to in this timeline. Like I said, most ics that show you living into old age you’re aloh 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 bee super vilins.” 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 i for Natasha. My eyes went wide as I asked. “Oh fuck is Natasha your wife? That happens in one of the ics.”

  He burst out ughing. “*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 being Hawkeye after you quit and then being Ronan after where she’ll die to the yakuza. If you have a son he also bees Hawkeye but eventually bees 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 someohat their son bombed a bank killing dozens for his debut as a super vilin. He sughtered his ex-wife and hung her parents with her iio make up for her betrayal.

  “You don’t want to know why he’s called that if I’m being ho and for all it’s worth I hope no one ends up like him.”