Chapter Text
A Tragedy of Brilliance
Chapter 1- This is how I was raised. 7-16
DNA is a funky thing. No one on this planet has an identical set of DNA; although they can be similar, they are never identical.
Everyone has always told me I look like my mama. Her tan skin, dark brown curls, and amber eyes, but my skin is paler, and my eyes are more of a warm honey color.
My mama, on the other hand, has said I’m identical to my grandpa, with the same mole placements, eyes, and a slightly crooked smile. I never got to meet the man because my mama was always trying to keep me away from the place where he was taken.
Hydra.
Grandpa could do things. Manipulate the human body, he could mimic those around him perfectly, heal at an accelerated rate (both on self and on living things as well), he could become an Identical copy of someone, and if he could feel someone's intense emotions, he could connect with a person. These things put a target on my family’s back. I never got to meet him because he was captured before I was born. But before he was captured, he was helping during WW2., Grandpa was always called “Guardian Angel”; he would run onto the field and bring back soldiers left and right, injured, alive, half-dead, etc. He was seen as a war hero, but unfortunately, his gift was viewed by the wrong people. Grandma always tells me these stories about Grandpa and how much I’m like him. We aren't just similar in looks, but it’s like I’m a mini version of him. Gran also used to tell stories about Great-aunt Peggy, Uncle Steve, and Bucky. I’ve only ever met Aunt Peggy once. I only got to know her a little bit before her memory started to fade. Gran was best friends with Peggy during wartime, being the only other female agent around in WW2. Sadly, my gran's body deteriorated, and Mama put her into a home because she couldn’t look after both Gran and me. Mama tried to raise me away from her work at S.H.I.E.L.D., but she was a single mother with a child to care for. So she would take me with her to work and have me stay at her workstation. Sometimes I would get lucky and my mama wouldn’t notice me slipping away.
— — —
I slip into different rooms around the base. I found multiple places to watch people from. I went into some files and evidence, I shouldn’t have. I am a curious kid, so I read what I could and remembered. With all the rooms I’ve come across, my favorite room so far was the observation booth that looked over the training room 105. I liked to watch these three people train together, and occasionally their leader joined; they never noticed me, but I slowly started to learn more about each of them. I knew their names, the little flaws in their forms, and inside jokes, and I slowly began to learn and copy their moves. I would practice in the observation booth and at home when my mama thought I was sleeping. One day, though, I finally got to meet Natasha, Clint, and Maria, the three I had been watching for months, plus their group leader Phil. Clint caught me in the observation booth while I was drawing one of them (that one day I might have the courage to give it to them), when he walked by and noticed me. He was heading down from one of his nests, and he noticed that the observation room 105 light was on. He didn’t know anyone was watching them and wanted to find out who.
“Who are you?” A voice asks from behind me. I was sitting in the observation booth that overlooked the training grounds. His voice startled me into dropping the colored pencil I had, which hit the ground with a small clank, and I spun around to see the man I’d been watching for months. My hands twist into my hoodie sleeves, pulling them over my fingers temporarily before taking a deep breath and raising my hands to him.
“C-O-D-Y,” I finger spell to him. Clint's face shines in recognition of the sign language (but this was before his hearing started to go, so he didn’t know any at the time; he just knew what it was).
“Shit, kid– I don’t– umm— okay, here is what we are going to do,” Clint says, glancing over my paper, noticing the drawings but no empty paper. He thinks for a moment before Clint decides to dig around in his pocket and pulls out a small sketchbook. He walks closer and hands it over to me before picking up my forgotten colored pencil. I take the sketchbook and start to flip through it to find an empty page. His drawings were mostly sketches of physics-based stuff and people I've seen around the base, and shockingly, birds. I finally flipped to an empty page and, as neatly as my 7-year-old hands could, I wrote down my name before timidly handing it back to him.
“Okay, Cody, how did you get in here? And why are you watching us?” Clint asks to hand over the sketchbook once more.
“My mama works here; her name is Isabella Valadez. I like watching because I'm learning.” I write, handing it over to him, and he stares at it for a second longer, then smiles at me. It was a soft, understanding smile. Clint stares at me for a moment before deciding something for himself.
“Since you like watching us and I assume those drawings are for us, how about we go meet Nat and Maria, and you join us for today before we go get you back to your mom?” Clint asks gently. I shine a little at the recognition of my drawings before thinking if I should agree or return to my mama. Hesitantly, I agree, nodding my head and gathering my stuff into my kids' backpack. I stumble up to him and grip his pants in my hand.
“Do you want me to carry you there, Cody?” Clint asks softly, looking down at me. I stare at him for a while before slowly nodding and letting go of his pant leg. His arms slip under his armpits and lift me to his hip. One arm under me for support, and an arm gently holding around my back and backpack. I lean on him as he walks down the stairs to the training room.
The training room was warm, not humid, but just a little warmer than outside. It smelled weird, but looked very neat and clean. Equipment sat on the far left side of the room, while the other side was open with a small wall in between them, but with big entryways to access both rooms. Natasha and Maria are stretching on the mats in the open room, quietly chatting.
“Finally, Clint, you were— umm, wh— who’s that?” Maria stutters out. I look up from Clint's shoulder to Maria. My honey eyes meet her blue eyes, and I give a small wave and smile.
“Maria, Nat, this is Cody. I found him in the obs booth,” Clint says with a smile.
“And how did Cody get into the obs booth?” Maria asks, staring at the child who was clinging to Clint. Clint's smile grows, and he shrugs.
“Dono, walked by the booth and saw the light was on and was wondering who was watching us, and it looked like this guy, and by what I saw up there, he probably has been for a while,” Clint says, shifting me around. I nod at his last comment. Nat and Maria share a look. Like a secret conversation between them, they share their glance for a little while before looking at Clint with blank expressions.
“And why is he here?” Nat finally asks.
“Well, Cody said he liked watching us to learn, so I thought, let us get him a better view, plus this guy has something to show you,” Clint says before setting me down on my feet. I shuffle my backpack to my front and open it. I gently pull out the drawings, 10 in total. I zip up my bag before shuffling over to Maria to hand her the drawings. She takes them like I'm handing her an explosive. Nat gets closer to her and looks over her shoulder at the drawings, and Maria slowly shifts through them.
“Are these us? Nat, omg that's your thigh move! And that's my trick and Clint's!” Maria says, lighting up at the recognition, Natasha takes a couple of them, looking them over.
“These look nice. How old are you, kid?” Natasha asks, I hold up 7 fingers to her and smile at her.
“Dang, you're 7, you're so old!” Clint says, nudging my shoulder a little. I give him a dead stare as if saying, ‘Don’t patronize me. ’ Nat cracked a smile at my look, and Maria gave a small laugh. Clint put his hands up in defense.
“If learning what Cody came to do, then learn he shall!” Maria says and starts to guide me to the benches along the dividing wall. She puts my drawing down on the bench and waits for me to set my backpack down before leading me back to the mats.
“Okay, Cody, show us what you do know!” Maria excitedly says. I fall into the stance that I’ve watched all of them practice and perfect. Maria falls into the stance a little more open, underestimating. I quickly throw a jab forward and wait for her hand to do her signature grab. She grabs onto my arm, I quickly twist her wrist and use the momentum to throw her to the ground and pin her. Once she lands, I wait three seconds before releasing her. Clint Burst forwards and picks me up, spinning me around.
“You learn that from us?!” Clint yells. Nat is behind him with a smirk.
“Not bad, kid, not bad,” Natasha says, ruffling my hair before Clint sets me back down.
“Dang, Kid, I shouldn’t have underestimated you,” Maria says, joining us.
“So it seems Cody here is a little more advanced than we thought!” Clint starts, “How about a couple more rounds, then we return you to your mom, Cody.” I give him a nod and get paired up with Maria, with whom I would spar 10 more times, losing every match.
I stared at the ceiling, panting from the sparring matches. Natasha sat down closer to me and started her cool-down stretches, same like Maria. Clint disappeared a little while ago and hasn’t returned. All our heads turned to the door once we heard it start to open. We were expecting Clint, and half right we were, a man was with him.
“So you found this kid and started training him?” the man asks, looking around the trying room as he steps in. His eyes land on me.
“Cody!” the man says in surprise before hurrying over to me. “They didn’t hurt you, right?” I give him a confused look, but shake my head.
“You’re probably wondering how I know you, Cody, but I work closely with your mama. Does she know you’ve been sneaking off to watch my team?” He asks me to crouch down to my level. He starts to give me a look over to see if I was hurt, but I brush him away. I furrow my brows and move quickly behind Clint. I peek out from behind Clint's legs to see a surprised look on the man’s face.
“I don’t know you,” I sign to him. The man's look goes from surprise to confusion to amusement.
“Your mama told me you knew ASL because you have a hard time talking to people. I don’t know ASL, but your mama also told me if I needed your trust, I should say “Pozole sombrosa,”” the man says, staying exactly where he was. I fully poke out my head from behind Clint's legs before stepping out from behind and making my way back to the man. I get close to him and lean toward his ear.
“¿Tengo que— que volver atrás?” I whisper into his ear before leaning back and staring at his face. His eyes soften, and he grows a small frown before I see him get an idea.
“How about this, Cody, let's ask your mama if you can continue to join us a couple of times a week while she's working so she doesn't have to worry where you have gone.” The man gives me a small smile as he starts to stand back up. I nod and grab his pant leg.
“I think that means he wants you to carry him,” Clint says, pointing at me. I smile and nod to Clint’s suggestion. The man turns away from me and crouches down in front of me.
“Hop on, Cody!” the man voices over his shoulder. I climb onto his back. “Nombres?” I whisper into the man's ear, his head turns more towards me before he smiles, “My name is Phil,” he says. I give him a small smile before lifting my arm and pointing forward with a small giggle.
Phil starts walking back to where my mama’s desk is. Clint, Natasha, and Maria began to follow us, chatting quietly behind us. I watch as the agents watch our group of people, but none of the eyes are on me; they're watching Natasha or Clint. I watch as their eyes travel across their bodies with a glare or fear. One lady finally breaks off from staring at Natasha and spots me, her eyes widening. I lift my finger to my lips before she starts to look around aimlessly. We finally made it to my mama's desk, and she was still typing away.
“Agent Valadez,” Phil calls out to her.
“Hmm?” She doesn’t even bother to look up. I give a light scoff on Phil's shoulder before sitting up straight.
“Mamá, Phil y yo queremos hablar,” I voice softly. Her head whips around to me to see me on Phil's back, and Natasha, Clint, and Maria around us.
“Agent Collison!” My mama calls worriedly. “Why do you have Cody?!” She asks, pushing herself out of her chair and toward the group.
“It seems Cody here is an escape artist and has found my group interesting,” Phil says as he crouches down and lets me go. I land on my feet and run to my mama. I yank on her shirt and signal for her to crouch down so I can whisper in her ear.
“Mamá prom— prométeme que lo pensarás por fav— favor,” I whisper to her behind my hand. I feel her arm snake onto my arm and give it a tight squeeze as she narrows her eyes at me. Her expression softens, and she lets go before standing up and facing Phil and the group again.
“Umm— we were wondering— wondering if maybe Cody could join us?” Maria asks from the back of the group. My mama's eyes land on her.
“And what would you be doing with my son during this time? When would he be with you and for how long? Is anyone else going to be involved? Will you keep him safe?” My mama started firing off at them. Natasha takes the lead and starts answering back.
“We want to train him in self-defense. He has been watching us for a while and already knows how to perform at an intermediate level. We would sharpen this ability in our training by feeding his overactive brain.” Natasha starts
“It would only be when you are working, so it's like we would be babysitting him and teaching him,” Clint adds.
“No one else will be involved, just Clint, Natasha, Maria, and I,” Phil finishes answering my mama's questions. I look up at my mama with puppy dog eyes and hold my hands together in a praying motion. My mama looks down at me before letting out a defeated sigh. I could feel the annoyance in it.
“I work every weekday from 3:00 pm to 11:30 pm, he can be with you guys 4 times a week, and you can’t spend the whole time training, do something that further enriches his brain. He is a fast learner; if you think it will take long for him to learn something, it won’t.” My mama starts, “I homeschool Cody, and he is already far beyond where he should be. He likes to learn things; his newest learning fixation is Russia.” My mama finishes and looks at them with a “still gonna take him” face.
Clint and Maria high-five over my mama's decisions, and Clint walks over and ruffles my hair. Natasha had a small smile, and Phil’s face lit up.
“I can make a schedule with you on when we would train him, and if you and I could connect with me on what he should be learning at this time, then we can help out,” Phil says, walking full over to my mama and talking more with her. I scurry over to Natasha and Maria with a smile, dragging Clint with me.
Everything after that was perfect for about a year and a half. I train and learn with the team four times a week and have three rest days a week, so that I can do anything I want. Mama told me I needed to pick something to occupy my mind with because I was no longer allowed to sneak off without her, so I started to read a lot. All types of books, fantasy, non-fiction, mystery, and even cookbooks. I loved getting lost in the stories or information.
I distracted myself with books on the weekends and Mondays, my days off from training and school. On Tuesdays, Natasha and Clint would train me. We are working on my sneaking ability. Natahsa worked with me on gathering intel and being quiet yet graceful. Clint helped me then the vents and how to eavesdrop, it was fun learning the basics of vents and where all of Clint's nests were. On Wednesday, I trained with Maria, but Phil always oversaw my training with Maria, as they were a sparring day, and he wanted to keep a close eye on me. Thursdays are parkour days! Clint first taught me how to fall be then picked up how to swing and do other things, parkour days were probably one of my favorite days. Clint and I got closer as I resided in him about almost everything. I felt alone, and doing this training was making me less lonely. What my mama was truly like once we left. We became almost like family with how we resided with each other. Then we had Fridays, my days with only Natasha. She would teach me all sorts of things, language, technique, hacking, my favorite was deduction, and I picked them all up quite quickly.
I used my train when I got bored. I would sneak around, how to get into places I shouldn’t have been. One day, I got a high-level clearance badge, stole it off Phil one day, and made my way through every secret room in the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. I read and looked through everything in those rooms. One thing caught my eye, catching me off guard, and that got me hooked. I was able to sneak some files before I was taken back to my mama and received my punishment. The punishment was Mama making me do anyalitics again (they're not hard, just time-consuming). I hid the files I stole before my Mama could find them. When Natasha, Clint, and Maria found out, it was a much nicer reaction, way better them Mama’s. Natasha gave me a proud smile and said, “Buen trabajo, pequeño perro” before patting my head. I made Clint laugh so hard, he had to sit down. Once he gained his composure once more, he gave me a high five and said “we goin’ to hav’ta up your trainin’”. I also told Clint what I found in those files. Maria only gave me a hair ruffle and a pat on the back. It wasn’t until about a year and a half later, when my Mama died, that things changed.
— — —
I have scars from the day she died.
It was night when she took her final breath, the doors were locked, and I was supposed to be in bed sleeping, but something smelled wrong.
Then the smoke started to fill our house, the house that had held my family for generations after we immigrated from Mexico.
Everything started to get warm, and my door would budge.
I started by banging on my door, trying to wake my mama.
It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe.
It's too quiet aside from the sound of wood crackling and soft footsteps.
Time to switch tactics, I run up to my window, and all the bedrooms are on the third floor. The drop would hurt, but it would be better than burning.
I had just enough time to grab one thing.
My stuffy grandma gave me. Before I could make my way back to the window of my room, the wall made a loud cracking noise, then crumbled, and flames poured in. I quickly make my way to the other side of the room, and flame eats everything I've ever known. It stung when the fire touched my arms, sides, and back, but I made it. I fling open the window and start climbing out. I could hear the sirens now; they were getting louder and louder. I grip the edge of the window seal before finally letting go and falling to the ground. A sharp pain went through my arm when I landed, but I didn't have time to think before I got up and started running towards the front of the house to see if my mama got out. The fire trucks were finally there, and they had started spraying the fire.
None of them has noticed me yet. I stumbled up to one of the firefighters standing, talking into a walkie. I grasp his pants with the arm that doesn’t hurt as much and tug a couple of times to get his attention. When his eyes drift down, he spots me, and his eyes widen.
“Kid, are you supposed to be outside right now? Where are your parents? Where's your home?” He fired off the questions, and I just pointed to the fire. He stared at me for a second before rapidly talking into his walkie-talkie and leading me over to the nice paramedic man, who loaded me into the back of his truck and said my mama would meet us at the hospital.
Once there, a bunch of doctors and nurses surrounded me and started to poke and prod at me. I try to brush them away and shrink away; they're speaking too fast for me to keep up. My arm was starting to hurt, and I could feel the tear reaching my eyes.
“ALTO POR FAVOR ALTO!” I scream at the top of my lungs, getting all their attention. I feel all their eyes land on me, and their hands freeze. I could feel the tear start to run down my face and land in my lap.
“Cariño, solo estamos tratando de ayudar.” one of the nurses says petting my hair.
“Quiero a mi mamá,” I start “ninguno de ustedes puede hacer nada más hasta que ella llegue.” I start to cry, suddenly my back and arms hurt way more then earlier, and I haven't looked at myself yet.
I just want my mama.
The nurse glances at her colleagues with a newfound poker face.
“Do we have any news on the boy's mom?” she asks the rest of the nurses and doctors.
“No one else made it out of that house; it's not structurally sound right now for them to go inside,” a nurse holding a notebook says. “Paramedics and dispatch mentioned it when he was brought in,” she says with sadness clouding her features.
At that moment, time stood still, and I felt a sense of detachment. Time froze.
I didn’t feel the doctor going back and poking and prodding. I didn’t feel when the nurse put the needle in my arm to get me on fluids, or when they started to poke at the overly glossy pink flesh attached to my arm, or when the remains of my shirt were pulled off of me.
It wasn't until Ms.Harlen was standing in front of me that the world unfroze.
“So Cody, your father is still alive and has agreed to take you,” she says with a gentle smile. I didn’t smile back. I don’t know where my father is. I don’t know everything that was about to change in my life. I just stared straight through her.
She left me alone… forever… Mama said god does exist, hopefully she's with him, but knowing what I know… she’s probably not.
— — —
She died when I was 8 and a half.
Lucky me, my dad was still alive; I never met him, but I knew of him. I remember being terrified of moving into that house.
My dad had a wife, Mary Parker, a beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman, a S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist. I was scared she wouldn't like me, but she did a lot. She loved to help me with my schooling and was pleased that I was just as smart as my dad. She was a good cook, but not as good as my mama. Mary could never make Pozole right, but she did become my mom. She helped me feel like family to them, even with how busy they were.
I still got to train with the team for a while before it was just Clint, Natasha, and me. Phil got pulled away permanently to work directly under Nick Fury, but he still visited, and Maria also got pulled away to be Fury's right-hand man. I didn’t mind; they still visited often and celebrated with me.
Mom agreed that the train was good for me, just like Dad, so I continued with Natasha and Clint, but my training looked a little different. Because I was so far ahead, Mom and Dad had to put me in grades above my own. I was in 8th grade by the time I was 9. So I went to school during the day, and Mom or Dad would take me to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base for my training. Natahsa and Clint only trained me together on Mondays, as they both also started to get busier with S.H.I.E.L.D. missions. On Mondays, we sparred for hours, and I never won, but I got better each time. On Tuesdays, Clint and I would have shooting practice. My aim was really bad at first, but after 3 months, it was on up from there. On Wednesday, Clint and I would actually do parkour runs, and probably some of my favorite memories are from parkour days. Thursday's Natasha was finally free to train with me, and Natasha and I would go through scenarios like kidnapping or ‘fake’ torture. Fridays were probably the best days, though. Natasha would teach me Russian and French on these days, and I picked them both up pretty quickly, being fluent by the time I was 10. After going through those languages, Natasha started teaching me negotiation. I still got my weekends, I would spend either all of the time with my parents, or I would be reading to escape from the world for a little while.
Soon enough, I had been a member of the Parker family for 8 months, and we got some exciting news. Mom was pregnant with Peter, soon to be one of the most important people in my life. Peter was born on August 10th, 2001, and it was one of the best days of my life.
Mom and I had grown closer during her pregnancy, and she was home a lot, teaching me more life-stable things. So my training days got shorter as I would mostly be helping Mom. Things my mama didn’t think I needed to know. Like what cleaning product is for what, how I’m supposed to take care of curly hair, and she even let me watch TV on the kids' channel. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mama; she was my mother, but Mary turned out to be my Mom. Every night, my dad says goodnight to me and has always thanked me every time for taking care of my mom, for being a good kid, and for adjusting well. It wasn't long before Mom was at her due date, and we were at the hospital. I was allowed into Mom's room while she had Peter; she held both my and Dad's hands in a tight grip. When all of us heard the first cry, a breath of relief was felt. A healthy baby boy, Peter. After both Mom and Dad held Peter, I was allowed to hold him, and “perfect” was all I could think. He already had some brown hair, and his eyes were a wonderful hazel color. He was so small.
After Peter's birth, things changed a little. I still train with Clint and Natasha, but only twice a week; Mondays and Tuesdays, both of them trained me on those days. The rest of the time, I'm home helping my mom with Peter or assisting a person babysitting us. I stopped taking art classes when my Mama died and solely focused on training and homeschooling. However, I’m 10 ½ now, so it's been a while. I still keep up with reading and training, but now I also get to help Mom.
I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up. Mama told me I had to do something special because of how smart I was, like a doctor or scientist. I knew I was intelligent; I picked things up quickly and memorized things easily. All math and science came easily, and so did language, but neither being a doctor nor a scientist seemed to be what I wanted. So I searched for something I liked, and I found that I love to create things, like the drawings from my childhood, or change art with paints and pastels. Mama said dreams come second to what a human needs to do. Both Mom and Dad say dreams come first, and that if I don’t have to be something I’m not. Even though Mom and Dad are important people, they are top S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and scientists. I didn’t feel like I needed to be the top of anything. I felt safe being just who I was, and no one saw me. Maybe that has something to do with my Mama's paranoia; she drilled into me. Maybe for once I should listen to my Mama and be something great… but I’ll still follow the things I like, I just gotta find a middle ground. So I came up with a plan, and you find out how it goes while you read.
— — —
My first step: “Get out of school, FAST!”
When I put my plan into action, getting them to agree was easy.
“Mom. . . Can—can I test out of sc—school?” I ask her with puppy eyes. She knew how far ahead I was and how bored I had become, with nothing left for my brain to engage with. I was 11 and bored with being a high school student already. College classes would stimulate my brain cells enough to help me keep a long-lasting consciousness.
“I can take on–online college classes instead—instead and earn a degree faster than my pee— peers and be years ahead, mo— mom,” I argue to her. She glances down before looking back up at my dad.
“Cody makes some good points about it, Mary. Frankly, he is bored with what he is doing now. His brain needs to be enriched to help it further develop. He would only take online classes till he is 13, then he can take some in-person ones.” Dad helps boost my side. After all, I did take after him in smarts. I watched Mom's face go through emotions, and it was almost as if I could see her think.
My mom said, “he needs friends of his age, so he has to be in some sort of club, so he is socialized.” My eyes lit up with gratitude.
After that convocation, my mom found a bunch of extracurriculars and clubs I could join. Chess club, Drama club, Piano, Guitar, Gymnastics, Track, etc., etc. You get the idea, right? I chose not to join a club, but I did choose some extracurriculars. I did Track in the spring, gymnastics all year, two times a week, and Science camp in the summer.
Now came the hard part: finding a fast-track college degree that I wanted and that met all the requirements I needed. Requirement 1: Must be centered around helping people. Requirement 2: I only have 4 years to complete it. Requirement 3: I still get to minor in something I love. Requirement 4: must be a master's or higher-level degree. So I chose it major in biophysics and got my bachelor's in Art, specialising in studio arts. It was a fast-track course designed to help us graduate early. Not fast enough for me, though, I somehow found a way to have 5 classes a term.
My professors thought I was crazy, but my brain could keep up. I fell into the rhythm of college classes and watching Peter for my mom. I had classes 4 times a week from 7:30- 3:30. After class, I would work on any school work for an hour, on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during spring, I have track. Gymnastics on Tuesday and Thursday, and of course, science camp during the summer.
For a while, I still trained with Clint and Nat on the weekends, but it slowly came to a stop, and my visits to S.H.I.E.L.D. were to see Phil because he was the only one who stayed in touch. It hurt when the rest of them stopped talking to me because they were too busy, but I could understand. I just miss them. Maria was gaining a reputation for being Fury’s right-hand woman and excelling at her job. Phil still works under Fury, but a little more separately because he has his team. Natasha and Clint were busy doing missions. I only visited on Fridays, I would only stay in Phil’s office, but with the skills they trained me with, I when to the training rooms just to keep up with my skills. Phil would sometime give me cold case files and i loved solving them, he only gave them to me when he was despate and he always gave me something in return.
Soon enough, I was 12, and step 2 was quickly approaching.
— — —
Step 2: Graduate as early as possible.
It took 2 and ½ years, I studied and tested, and it was a long time, but all worth it. I was really tough, but so worth it. I was tired after doing so much just so I could graduate super early. I got my master's in biophysics and my associate's in arts. I was fully 13 by the time I graduated, and I was in the top 10 of my favorite days. I remember Peter convinced Mom and Dad to bring me flowers and balloons to give me after graduation. I have pictures of the day, and Mom printed out some of them for me. There were pictures of everyone together: Mom, Dad, Phil, Peter, and me. My smile was so big in those photos. There’s also a picture of me with happy tears. I did cry that day.
I was able to become an intern at a special school. Midtown school of science and technology. I interned for the AP biology teacher, Dr. James York. He had his PhD in Biology and Medicine. It was nice, I got to learn more from him about biology and medicine. All the students eventually respected me after about a year of being there.
Soon enough, it's Peter's 3 birthday and we get to meet more of our family. Our aunt and uncle, May and Ben. After Peter's birthday, Mom and Dad became busier, and we got to stay with our uncle and aunt more. Ben and May are awesome, but only Ben knows how to cook. So I had him teach me whenever he was home from work. I started to learn all the various dishes and started to become the main cook at their house when I was over, because I enjoyed it so much. Soon enough, autumn passed us, and then it was winter, and we celebrated Hanukkah, and I celebrated Christmas, but I still love celebrating Hanukkah with Mom, Dad, and Ben. May was the only other person who celebrated Christmas. Peter thought both were amazing and begged Mom to let him celebrate both. May got me new paintbrushes after I complained for an hour about mine falling apart. Ben gave me a cookbook of authentic Mexican food. Peter had Mom help him make me a card (he isn’t allowed to use real scissors yet), it was covered in red and blue glitter with “Merry Christmas” in Mom's handwriting, and the rest of the card is in Peter's 3-year scribbles. Even though I wasn't Jewish, my dad and mom still let me celebrate Hanukkah with them. I was allowed to help light the Menorah, and they even taught me the blessings. I gifted my mom a photo book I made of all of us for the last 3 years. For Dad, I gave him a tie clip with all of our initials engraved on the back to keep us close to his heart. Looking for something for Peter wasn’t hard; he already loved science and Star Wars, so I got him a Star Wars bag he could use for preschool next year.
Soon, Christmas and Hanukkah, as well as New Year's, Valentine's Day, and St. Patrick's Day had passed. Soon enough, it was my birth month, and we celebrated as we always did. Phil, Mom, Dad, Ben, May, Peter, and my only friend from childhood, Sofia. We celebrate on June 1st. Mama never told anyone my birthday; she always said they were pointless and we had more important things to do than celebrating getting old. But she isn’t here anymore, so I’ll celebrate now with my family and friends.
As time passed, even things went silent for a little while. I worked and watched over Peter when Mom and Dad were busy. I always talked about science to peter. What my favortie Bruce Banners papers and my work at school. Peter took an interest in science when I talked about it to him, has always asked for deffinictions or to reexplain something. I started to teach him more science related things which he took to like a fish. We did safe small experiments when mom and dad where at work and studied any research papers we could find.
Slowly over the course of a year, Mom and Dad got busier and busier. We started to stay with May and Ben more often. When we were home, Mom and Dad's faces looked stressed, panicked, and tight. As if they were holding onto a secret, one night I watched them enter peters room with a box and when they left the box was empty, only filled with wrappers of medical products. I know they would never hurt Peter as they loved him more than anything but i wanted to know. So i asked. The answer shocked me and rubbed me the wrong way, as if they where lying to me. They knew I would find out eventanlly after all I was a sabueso. We always find all.
— — —
By the time it was time for step three, I was 16, and something major happened in my life.
Mom and Dad died.
S.H.I.E.L.D. sent them on a mission, a death mission, and they never returned. Peter and I were staying with our aunt and uncle at the time when the police knocked on the door. I was the one who answered. We knew the police officers, as they worked with Ben.
“O— off— officer Watanabe? Wh— what are you d— d— doing here?” I asked her as I opened the door fully. Her face was grim and held a great deal of sadness when she saw me.
“Cody... Can I talk to Ben and May for a second?” She asks, stepping forward toward the inside of the apartment. I was confused as to why she was there, but I closed the door and led her to Ben and May in the kitchen.
“B–ben, Ma-may!” I call out to them, and Ben pokes his head around the kitchen wall, spotting Officer Watanabe.
“Yuri, what are you doing here?” Ben asks, walking over to us from the kitchen and drying his hands. I watch Officer Watanabe's eyebrows pinch together and her lips form a tight line.
“Ben, I have important news that the kids shouldn’t hear from me,” Watanabe says, leading Ben back into the kitchen with May. I glance at Peter, still happily coloring away at the dining table. I lean against the kitchen wall, watching Peter while listening in on the adults.
“I’m sorry, Ben. . . But both bodies have been found. We just need one of you to identify them.”
Suddenly, the world was slowing.
Bodies? Whose body?
“Are—are you sure it's them?” Ben's voice sounded weak and sad, almost on the verge of crying. I don't hear a response from Watanabe; I can only assume she nodded.
“We need to check now, Ben. . . the kids need to know. . .” May’s voice sounded broken. I quickly joined Pete at the dining table with dread filling my stomach. I watch as Ben and Watanabe leave quickly, and May joins us at the table for a little while, till Ben comes back with a distraught look on his face. Ben and May shared a look that conveyed everything Ben needed to say because, all of a sudden, May had tears falling down her face. My throat tightened as Ben came over and sat with us. Pete was still coloring. I watch Ben take a deep breath before starting.
“Pete, and Cody, I have something important to tell you both,” Ben voices. Pete's head lifts to look at Ben with curious doe eyes. I could see the tears grow in Ben’s eyes. “Your parents... your parents were unfortunately in an accident, boys.”
“They're okay, though, right?” Pete asks innocently. I felt like my breath was taken away. I knew I had a better understanding of people than 5-year-old Pete. I felt the tears slide down my cheeks and drop onto the dining table.
“They're dead..."I whisper just enough for Ben and May to catch it. I see Mays' head give a sad nod before both their focus lands on Peter.
“Your parents won't be coming back for a while, Pete, so you and Cody are going to stay with us for a bit,” May says sadly, rubbing Peter's arm. I watched both Ben and May focus only on Peter, and I slipped into the guest room— Peter and I's room. I sit down on the edge of my bed and let the sob escape my body.
Mom and Dad are gone. . . we are alone again. . . I have Peter. . . I have to protect Peter.
I bite my tongue to make me focus on the pain instead of the grief I will inevitably have to face. I quickly wipe my tears and stand back up, put my pieces back together, and leave our room to be with my brother because he still doesn’t understand what Ben and May are trying to say. I stop next to his chair and crouch a little before speaking.
“Peter, yo— you know ho—w Leah in my class left and nev—er came back?” I ask him, interrupting Ben's struggle to explain.
“Yeah, you said she went to heaven,” Peter says
“Mom and Dad went— t to the same place, L—Lea—Leah is, heaven,” I say
“When are they coming back?” Peter asked me, and my heart dropped to my stomach.
“Peter once pe— people make it into heaven they d– d– don’t get to come back, it– t— t's their treat for living a life, mom and dad are— aren't going to come back but we still have a– au—aunt May and uncle Ben to watch us,” I say, holding onto Peter's hand as he finally realized our parents are never coming back.
“But we get to see them again one day, right?” Peter asks, and both May and Ben suck in a breath at his question.
“We— we will bu—but only when it i—i—is our time to go to heaven, an—an-and that’s not for a while,” I explained. I pulled Peter into a hug and held him tight.
“That's okay, we will see Mom and Dad again one day, but for now we live,” Peter says, hugging me back. I feel my pieces fall apart in his arms. I squeeze my brother tighter before letting go and wiping away the tears that had managed to fall.
“Wh—when is their fun–funeral?” I ask Ben and May.
“We haven’t gotten there yet, but we will let you know soon, Cody,” May says, rubbing my shoulder.
It was only a week before we had the funerals for both my parents, and Peter and Ben got to have their morning period. The caskets were closed due to how mangled our parents' bodies looked. However, I trust that they are in the proper attire. The funeral was fast, and before I knew it, it was time for step 3.
— — —
Step 3: “Find out what truly happened to both of my parent /parents
Mom and Dad died in an ‘accident’, a plane crash. And Mama died in a freak ‘accident’, a house fire.
I knew how important Moma and Dad's studies were. They were biologists who specialized in genealogy. They were on the way to figure out how to cross-breed humans and animals to help humans with things such as healing (lizards being able to grow their tails back). I read all of their notes when they went to bed, and I started to figure out what they were doing wrong, how to help, but I knew neither of them would want me in on this task; it was dangerous. People wanted our parents' research, but they would never get it.
There were only 4 people on the plane when it took off. The pilot, a flight attendant, and Mom and Dad. they were able to save a small portion of camera footage from the plane, it was a small video of Dad protecting mom as they fought off the fight attendant. No one on that plane lived, and all the research my parents did was gone. They all where put on that plan by Alexander Pierce.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised…
Hydra was within S.H.I.E.L.D. walls.
I kept reading through the files.
Isabella Maya Valadez. My Mama died in an attack on our Brooklyn house. The man was sent to capture me and bring me in to turn me into a weapon just like my grandfather was.
An assassin was sent into my house and set my house on fire, the fire had quickly spread through my side of the house, eating away at 40% of the house and what resides in it. My mama fought hard to protect me from him… to keep me away from the people who took her father from her. She won but lost her life in the fight. The fire destroyed all of my childhood belongings, but my stuffy gran gave me. At that time, my bedroom was on the south side of the building, second floor. My mom's room was almost completely untouched by the fire. All of the stuff from my parents where put into storage once I turned 18. May nd Ben had the keys to Mom and Dad's storage unit, and Phil had Mama’s. It didn’t take much effort to ask them to let me look, after all, Mom and Dad's funeral had just happened.
I knew no one else knew of my parents' true death but, of course, the people who ordered it. I opened the files on the computer, pulling all the names I saw, and wrote them down in a notebook close by. I ran my eyes over the list before I closed the notebook nd looked back up at the computer screen. I exit out of all the files and pull out the flash drive and fully erasing the computer's history and resetting the computer. I pack up my stuff and pick up the books I had collected. I make my way over to the library help desk and wait for the woman behind it to notice me.
She turned around and gave me a little jump before smiling, and I slid my three books and my library card over the counter toward her.
“Find everything you need, honey?” she asks me, pushing up her glasses and grabbing my library card and scanning it. Beep. She grabs the first book as she waits for my reply.
“Umm— no –i umm could f–find ‘The Biological Effects of Gamma Radiation Exposure on Human Tissue’ by Bruce Banner… do– do you guys–umm have it?” I ask quietly. She hums and types it into her computer with a smile, she turns back toward him and starts with “we do but it’s checked out right now,” I feel my heart wilt just a little “but i’ll put it on hold for you one its returned” she finishes, i smile back at her and thank her before she starts scanning my books and finishes checking me out.
“And you’re all set, honey! Have a wonderful day!” she says, giving me a wave before going back to the task she was doing before she noticed me. I put the books into my bag before heading towards the library doors. I slip out the door and towards the bus stop.
I sit and wait.
The bus pulls to a squeaky stop in front of me, I stan up from the bus stops bench and start to get onto the bus, i step up and scan my bus card before sitting down. I put my backpack onto my lap and holding it tight and i stare out the window and watch the library disappear into the distance.
Time for step 4.
— — —
Step 4: “Get emancipated”
I’m 16. My parents are dead. All Peter and I have is May and Ben, but neither of them really wanted kids. Forced to raise 2 kids might betooo much of a strain on them. I had a job ana d side project I have been working on. May was very hesitant to let me be emancipated, but Ben knew it was probably the only way they would stay afloat. So we sat and talked about it.
“It umm w—would be an easier uhh load on you too, I–I can provide for myself.” I stutter and look straight into May's worried eyes. Her eyes searched me for something before giving me a defeated sign and glancing over to Ben. Ben's face is tense with worry. He opens his mouth and says.
“Okay, but there needs to be an agreement.” His voice was strong and left no room for denial. I nod my head and lean a little forward. His face softens, and he grows a smile.
“Okay, first of all, weekly dinners, you must be here every week on Fridays at 6:00 pm. The only time you can get out of it is if we know beforehand.” His first requirement is spoken, and I nod along, not a hard requirement to follow.
“Second, check in with us every day till you're 18. Text, call, in person, just check in with us, please.” My mouth presses into a line, and I take a deep inhale before nodding at the requirement.
“Third, Peter stays with us for the majority of the weekdays, but weekends are yours.” Ben looks me straight in the eyes. I took a deep breath. “Only weekends?” Worse time for my voice to crack, but crack it did. I see his eyes droop with sadness.
“You can see him anytime during the week; you get to keep him from Friday night to Sunday afternoon.” May clarifies for me. I open my mouth to ask for more days, but then remember I'm not the one making the rules. I frown and nod.
“I can’t think of anything else at the moment, but things might need to be added. Just until we have partial custody with you.” Ben says, I feel my heart flutter.
“I– I get to have partial custody?” My voice was shaky and quiet, and both Ben and May shared a look.
“Your parents wanted it,” may say.
Do they not want me to have partial custody of Peter? I squeeze my fists and bite my tongue before nodding to what May said. Don’t fight them on anything; complying with everything will be easier and a better situation overall for Peter.
“Now, Cody, where is your place?” May asks, and I look up from where I was glaring at the table.
“M—my house in uhh, Brooklyn,” I say.
“The one that burnt down! Cody, you can’t stay there!” May exclaims angrily.
I stand up, grabbing both May’s and Ben’s attention.
“I have spent all of the money my Mama left me to redo that house, and it is fully structurally sound. It has new walls, new insulation, new roofing, new pipes, new windows, better central air, is three-story tall, and will be running the business my grandfather left for me.” I say with determination in my voice, staring deeply at both of them. “It’s liveable now and safe, and it’s my home,” I say, sitting back down in the dining room chair. May and Ben shared a glance before turning to me, “and I can show you guys it tomorrow if you want,” I add on.
“That’s doable, tomorrow after breakfast we she this house and if it is safe we will sign the emancipation paperwork,” Ben says, holding out his hand for me to shake in agreement. I grasp his hand and shake it.
My burnt-down Brooklyn home, the property is under my name now.
Restoring my burned-down house in Brooklyn, New York, and bringing it back to what it used to be, and maybe even more. The house was a three-story corner lot, and the first floor was a bakery my great-grandparents ran. Gran told me how much she loved the bakery as a kid since her mom brought her there once a week. That was how she met Grandpa because he worked there with his siblings and family. I want to restore it to what it used to be and maybe get a couple of old Brooklyn photos of them put up. I’ll add a security office downstairs that is more of a safe room, just in case. The second floor held the home. There were three ways to get to the second floor: the stairway in the back of the kitchen, the newly added fire escape, or the staircase out back of the building. The second floor held a kitchen and pantry, a dining room, a living room, one bathroom, and a small closet. The third floor was all bedrooms, and a staircase in the corner of the second floor led up to 4 bedrooms, all with closets. The third floor needed the most work, as it was where the fire started. First, I needed the building to be stabilized and the framework to be redone. Once that was done, walls were rebuilt, a roof was added back, and drywall was added back in as well as insulation. The floors were redone, and I painted everything to the color it used to be, a mellow yellow for the bakery and a pasty blue on the exterior. Once it was done and I could open the doors again, I hired two people for the front: Sofia, as she wanted to try and live a mostly normal life, and Sam, a sophomore in high school, who is super sweet and nice.
When I brought both May and Ben to see it, they were shocked. They knew what it looked like before, Mom and Dad had shown them.
“Is this what you’ve been doing with the money your mother left you?” Ben asks as we walk into the bakery doors and are greeted by Sam.
“Yes… T–this was my home– Umm, I know she would uhh have do– done the same.” I say, waving to Sam and turning back to show May and Ben the whole house.
The ground floor has the bakery and three entrances to the second and third floors. I take them through the bakery, saying hi to all the workers and showing them up the staircase to the second floor. I open the door at the second-level staircase and show them the entire second floor. The newly updated kitchen, original hardwood tables and chairs, the green living room, the study with bifolding doors, and then the small bathroom. I show them the staircase from the second floor to the third floor. The third floor held all the bedrooms and a couple of bathrooms. I showed them Peter's room and the guest room, if they ever need it.
“We’ll sign the paperwork,” May says once we make it back to the ground floor. My eyes widen in a brief moment of shock before softening.
“Thank you,” I say, giving her a quick hug that she returned.
“I think this place is great for you, Cody. I think it will be good for Peter, too,” Ben says, coming up to us and resting a hand on one of my shoulders and one on May's.
— — —
Step 5 was supposed to be “get more days with Peter,” but unfortunately, that plan was moved back a little.
Instead, step 5 will be a little different from what you think.
I promised I didn’t plan for it to change.