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As much as Clint liked to be back in the tower, he was hoping he could be on the house arrest, back on his farm with his family, until he was a free man again. Nothing against staying with his teammates, but hey – family was a family.
The officers said they’ll get on it.
He hasn’t heard from them since.
Damn bureaucrats; always taking forever to get things done. Scott got the house arrest right away, so what was taking them so long?!
But him wanting to be with his family wasn’t the only reason he wanted to leave the tower. There were those sounds – taps and creaks echoing in the middle of the night, irregular at first, then far too regular for his liking.
He couldn’t ignore it and write it off as the building working anymore. Not since he started to hear footsteps as well.
It was easy to distinguish those in the dead of the night, yet every time he went to search for the source, he never found anything. Friday saying that there is no trespasser detected didn’t help to soothe his nerves either.
“I think this place is haunted,” he’d told the team over the dinner.
But did they listen? Of course not! Instead, they looked at him like he lost his mind! No matter how much he reasoned, how many arguments he used, he was brushed off with it’s just the building working or you have wild imagination or Tony’s AI would warn us if there was any danger.
Truth be told, he expected at least Natasha, a fellow spy, to have his back.
He’ll have to prove them wrong on his own.
“What’s up, Ghostbuster?”
“Shh!” Clint slapped Sam’s thigh. “You’ll scare the ghost away!”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you’re sitting in the dark? Waiting for the ghost to appear?”
“You might as well join me.”
And Sam, not having anything better to do, joined him. Sitting in the dark hallway, their hushed conversation mostly consisted of Sam mocking Clint, and Clint either telling Sam to shut up or just to wait and see. Eventually Sam got bored of teasing and let the silence fill the space.
It didn’t take the two of them too long before they began to nod off.
“Ughhhh…”
Clint’s eyes snapped open, suddenly not sleepy anymore. “Sam,” he whispered, nudging Sam’s side. “Sam, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Sam mumbled.
“Ughhh… ngh…”
That woke him right up. “Yeah.”
“Friday, turn on the lights,” Clint commanded. Nothing happened. “Friday?” he tried again, but the AI still didn’t respond.
“That’s freaky,” Sam whispered.
Clint took out his phone turned on the flashlight. “Let’s go,” he said and began to creep towards where the moaning was coming from.
All other attempts to get the AI to answer were proven fruitless. Clint thought it was impossible to hack into her – Stark made her after all, but… he probably hasn’t thought of making her ghostproof.
Sam pointed the light a little ahead. “What the hell is that?”
“That’s…” Clint crouched in front of the little splotch of red. This was seriously starting to freak him out. As far as he knew, there were no scheduled paining works on their floors. There was only one possibility. “Blood. And by the look of it, it’s fresh. Let’s—" He made the mistake of looking at the ceiling, letting out a shaky whisper. “Oh, God.”
“What?” Sam asked, then looked up as well and understood.
There was a bloody handprint on the ceiling.
“Argh!”
The echo of that particularly loud grunt with aggressive undertone was enough to send both men running back to the living quarters.
The bloody handprint, as well as the drop on the floor, were gone next morning. Nobody believed them and Friday pretended like she’s been online the whole time. But now two of them knew the truth. They were burdened with knowledge. Brothers in suffering.
Clint patted Sam on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Ghostbusters.”
The nights following the bloody handprint were quiet, but Clint had a feeling something will happen tonight. He and Sam even managed to convince Bucky to join them. True, he’d said yes just so the two of you birdbrains would shut up and stop pestering, but yes was a yes and Clint counted that as a win. Wanda joined them out of her own volition, and so the four of them were patrolling the hallway where the blood appeared.
“How long do we have to walk in circles like this?” Bucky asked, his tone screaming that he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“If the ghost is punctual, I think it will appear in about thirty minutes,” Clint explained.
“Then why have we been walking for two hours already if we could’ve just wait?!”
“Shh! Quiet down, will you? We don’t want to scare the ghost away.”
“Scare the ghost away?” Bucky echoed but lowered his voice nonetheless.
“Yeah! We were really quiet when we were here last time, so the ghost didn’t know about us.”
“Or it could attack if we’re loud,” Sam supplied.
“Oh my God, it could attack,” Clint repeated, realization striking him. “Why haven’t I thought of that? We should’ve brought weapons.”
Bucky looked at the ceiling, begging whatever deity that listened to give him strength. “We can’t have weapons since we’re still technically criminals. And even if this ghost of yours exists, I really don’t think weapons—"
“Hey, guys,” Wanda interrupted. “Do you hear that?”
Nobody dared to move as they listened to the sound of rapid crawling as it faded into silence. They remained standing there for another minute, debating with their eyes whether they should follow the noise.
“Why are you bunch of idiots roaming my tower at this hour?”
In a split second, the four of them spun on their heels – and the squeaks definitely came from the soles of their shoes, shut up – and pointed their flashlights at unimpressed-looking Tony holding a steaming mug of coffee.
“Not cool, man,” Sam bent over his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
“What are you doing here?!” Clint accused.
What a moment to make an appearance. Tony was practically avoiding everybody since the Rogues got here, the only time they saw each other was when the pardons and Accords were being discussed.
And suddenly here he was, almost giving everyone a heart attack.
Tony kept staring for a few more seconds before gesturing to himself. “My tower. I live here,” he pointed out. “The coffee machine on my floor broke, may it rest in piece. Or pieces,” he mumbled, getting lost in some memory before snapping back to reality, “so I was forced to come here. Now answer my question.”
“We heard noises,” Wanda piped in, “it wasn’t any of us, so we went to investigate.”
“Friday, do we have any trespassers here?”
“Negative, Boss. No trespassers detected.”
“See?”
“But what if,” she continued, not looking Tony in the eye, “what if it’s not a person?”
“Friday scans for aliens or any living form.”
“What about ghosts?” Bucky said.
A pause.
“Ghosts.” Tony deadpanned.
“Yeah.”
“The four of you think there are ghosts in the tower.”
“…yeah?”
Tony sighed. “Go to bed. Auditory hallucinations are a sign of prolonged sleep deprivation and let me tell you, take care of it before you start having visual ones too because those aren’t fun.” Taking a sip of his coffee, the mechanic shuffled past them. “Normal people sleep at this hour, so you should too.”
Clint put his hands on his hips. “Then why are you awake?”
“My tower,” Tony called out without turning to face them and disappeared.
The lightbulb above the counter gave barely enough light to illuminate occupants sitting on the barstools. The rest of the room was shrouded by inky darkness.
Bucky pushed his untouched mug of coffee away. “I knew this was stupid. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“Oh, come on!” Clint whined. “You heard that sound. You all did! What else it could be?”
Neither Bucky nor Wanda replied. Wanda just kept sipping her coffee, Bucky staring at the steam rising from his mug.
Squeak.
The sound made all heads jerk to the dark part of the room.
“What was that?” Wanda whispered.
“Friday, lights,” Bucky murmured. “Friday…?” he repeated hesitantly.
Sam shifted in his seat. “This happened before.”
Bucky and Wanda were looking at him and Sam expectantly. Sam joined them.
Oh. How touching. It was nice to know they were okay sending him first into possible danger. Sam was a regular guy like him, but the Winter Soldier and Scarlet Witch were hiding behind him? “Wow, you guys. I feel loved.”
He stepped away from the illuminated area, others slowly following his suit. And then he spotted it.
The vent grate was slightly ajar.
That thing was moving through vents? His vents? Oh no, no, no. Hell no! How many times did the ghost watch him crawl through them without Clint knowing about it?
“Did you leave the screws loose?” Sam asked.
“No, I—”
Shuffling coming from behind them made him stop mid-sentence. He whirled around… only to see nothing.
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice slightly shook, “where’s my mug?” True to his words, there where once were four mugs, now were only three. “Did any of you hide it? Okay, ha, ha, I’m laughing, now knock it off because it’s not funny.”
“You went last,” Sam whispered.
“Steve?” Wanda weakly called out. “Natasha? Vision? Is any of you doing this?”
One of the cabinet doors where snacks were being kept suddenly flung open, one protein bar soaring through the air into the dark corner of the room.
That was enough to send them running. If they weren’t screaming, they might’ve heard the soft sleepy hm?
The missing mug appeared on the counter at some point during the next night, waiting for the Rogues in the morning, just sitting there, all innocent and clean. No fingerprints, no DNA. As expected, Friday hadn’t caught anything, which led Clint and Sam to do some online shopping.
Bucky, being the old man he was, wasn’t much of a help.
To Clint’s disdain, Wanda was in their Ghostbuster team only part-time. every time she went to sleep, she locked her door and had Vision stand watch. Instead, Steve – who looked progressively more and more concerned about his teammates’ mental well-being – took her place. Natasha still refused to believe. That skeptic.
The fact that next few nights were seemingly quiet didn’t help to convince her either, and Steve was starting to suggest that maybe they really were sleep deprived or were watching way too many horror movies.
But the majority of the team knew better and they would prove it to the non-believers.
The long-awaited package finally arrived. The whole day was spent by setting up cameras in various rooms and halls since Friday’s sensors were unreliable.
All what was left to do was wait.
“Got anything?” Clint asked as they reviewed the footage from the cameras.
Sam shook his head. “No.”
“Wanda?”
“No,” she said stiffly, probably expecting for the ghost suddenly appearing on the screen like some horror movie jumpscare. She wasn’t the only one, but the others had more success hiding it.
“Steve?”
He sighed. “Nothing.”
“Buck?”
Silence.
Clint raised his head from the screen to find the former assassin staring at his own screen with narrowed eyes. Him muttering what the hell? had everyone moving towards him. Bucky was tasked with reviewing the footage from the handprint hall.
“What did you find?”
He rewound the clip a minute back and pointed to the left upper corner. “Watch.”
It didn’t take long for the shadows to shift, soon followed by something crawling on the ceiling. Unfortunately, the angle didn’t allow them to see what exactly it was.
“Friday, what is it?” Steve asked.
The AI remained silent for a moment, then replied, “I have reviewed the footage and haven’t detected any disturbances.”
“What?!”
“She doesn’t see it,” Wanda stated. “Why doesn’t she see it?”
Clint caught Natasha watching, reading the subtle shift in her body language. He got her. He proved the non-believer wrong, and the fact that it was Natasha made his victory even sweeter. “You can’t deny it anymore.”
They forwarded the footage to Tony. His answer… wasn’t exactly the one any of them expected.
“I am a busy man. I have no time for your pranks or paranoia or whatever. Ghosts don’t exist. Peridot. So you better stop with it or I’ll have the cable on your floors cut,” he said before the holographic screen disappeared.
He was even bigger skeptic than Natasha. She at least knew something was out there, but Tony brushed them off despite the presented evidence.
“What do we do now?” Steve asked.
Clint rested his chin on his hand. “Well, if he didn’t believe the video, then we have to present more… physical proof.”
Wanda’s eyes widened as she fidgeted with the cuffs of her shirt. “You don’t mean…”
“I believe it’s time to catch ourselves a ghost.”
How did one went about catching a ghost when none of your teammates were allowed to have any weapons was a whole another thing. That’s how the team found itself huddled around the computer, reading a wikiHow article about something called the candle method.
Steve and Bucky went to retrieve some jars while Natasha and Wanda provided the candles. Scented would have to make do. And who knew? Maybe the ghost liked lavender or cherry or mint.
It was decided to make only three traps for better monitoring and place them near the hotspots of the paranormal activities. The mint one was placed in the handprint hall, the lavender one at the blocked elevator since it was near the handprint hall and the cherry one in the vent in the kitchen.
Come midnight, they split into pairs for safety and went to light up the candles, then returned to their impromptu base in the living room.
It was just a waiting game now. Huddled together and flicking through the camera feeds on the tablet, the tense atmosphere lightened up as they chatted.
“See anything?”
“No.”
Wanda yawned. “What time it is?” She passed the tablet to Steve to rub her eyes.
“One thirteen,” Natasha replied.
Sam was leaning on the armrest, his chin resting on his palm. “This is boring.”
“It’s better than senselessly running around the hallways,” Bucky said.
“Yeah,” Wanda sighed.
Steve switched to another feed, his back growing stiff. “Hey.” It was enough to shift the atmosphere back to more serious one.
“What do you see?” Natasha reached for the tablet and held out the screen for others to see, only to see… nothing.
The candle has gone out.
“Where is this?” Wanda asked.
“The hallway.”
“Looks like the ghost doesn’t like the minty scent,” Clint concluded. Huh. Good to know. If worst came to worst, they could smoke the whole tower with it and drive the ghost out. Hopefully it wouldn’t come back for revenge.
Sam leaned closer. “What about the other two?”
Natasha took over the tablet, the rest of the team huddling around her, creating a sort of protective circle. The one near the elevator was still burning. She clicked the button again to show the kitchen.
Wanda yelped. With shaky finger, she pointed to the dark splotch hanging near the vent.
Right where the candle was.
The glass in Steve’s hand cracked. The armrest under Bucky’s prosthetic creaked. Natasha looked like she was ready to fight. Sam’s jaw was clenched. But Clint…
All he could do was to smile shakily. “We got it.”
And now onto the next step.
Sneaking towards the kitchen without making a sound wasn’t that difficult when your group consisted of three army guys, two spies and a witch. The fact that neither of them was rushing towards the unknown certainly helped, but the net throwing gun Natasha had gotten from somewhere did its own thing to reassure.
The ghost let out a long whine.
“It’s weeping,” Clint said, barely audible. Oh no. The ghost sounded young, which triggered his father instincts. Poor thing was probably stuck and unable to cross for some reason. But on the other hand, he was relieved that they’ll be getting rid of it soon.
The Rogues stopped at the threshold of the kitchen, their eyes trained on the dark splotch that hasn’t moved an inch. Looks and nod were passed around.
Natasha aimed the gun and put her finger on the trigger. Sam placed his on the light switch. Wanda raised her hands, ready to call her magic in moment’s notice. Their two super soldiers stood guard on either side of the group. Clint raised his hand.
It was now or never.
“Now,” he brought his hand down, a signal for Natasha to fire. The gun went off and the web was thrown. The ghost made a… startled noise? “Lights!” Clint yelled and the room got flooded with harsh light.
It took a moment of vicious blinking for his eyes to accommodate, and he might have stumbled forward before his vision was clear, but holy shit. They did it. They actually did it! They caught the ghost! Now they had to-
Clint rounded the table and froze. Someone collided with his back, but he was in too much of a shock to care. Just to be sure he was seeing correctly he rubbed his eyes. Nope. He still saw the same thing.
“You are not a ghost,” he blurted out the first intelligent thing that came to mind.
Instead of an expected ghost, there was a teenager squirming in the net, trying and failing to untangle himself. He had curly brown hair, his bleary eyes were the same color and he was dressed in pajamas. A history textbook laid at his feet.
“Uh… no?” the teen said. “I’m pretty sure you have to be dead to be a ghost. I’m only dead on the inside. Unfortunately, that doesn’t count.”
Sam was the first to break the stunned silence. “What?”
“You’re not a ghost,” Clint repeated.
“Astounding observation, Barton.”
Like one, the Rogues turned towards the sarcastic voice, watching very annoyed Tony approach.
“Tony, do you know who this is?” Steve asked, but instead of answering, Tony stepped around the group and headed to the teen.
“Mind telling me what are you doing up this late on a school night? Not to mention on this floor?”
The teen let out a nervous chuckle. “Hey, Mr. Stark… So, funny story actually…” he trailed off at the look he was receiving. “Do you think you could help me out of this one first? I feel like some poor sea life that is about to spend rest of its short life in misery.”
Tony sighed and reached for the edge of the net. “Well?” he asked once the boy was freed.
“Okay, fine,” the teen’s shoulders slumped. “After I got back from the patrol, I remembered that we have a history test tomorrow – or today if you want to get technical – and—”
Bucky leaned closer to Sam. “Don’t you think his voice sounds familiar?” he whispered.
“Yeah. But from where?” Sam replied.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have rules for exactly this reason. Okay, why did you go here when I explicitly told you to avoid these floors?”
“Because I was tired and the coffee maker on your floor is broken—”
“Thanks to who—”
“—and besides, I was careful like always! I was quiet and I didn’t switch on any lights. I studied by that candle,” he pointed to the still-burning candle in the vent. A cup was placed next to it, presumably filled with coffee. “Plus, if I’d stayed on your floor, Friday would’ve snitched.”
Tony threw his head back. “Kid…”
“Excuse me, when did you acquire a whole child?” Clint asked.
Tony seemed to debate with himself whether to say something or not. “This is Peter, your alleged ghost. I’m just mentoring him and currently watching over him while his aunt is out of state, but that is none of your business.”
“But Friday said there was no one when I asked her,” Clint objected. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Correction,” the AI piped in, “I said I didn’t detect any trespasser. Peter is not a trespasser.”
“Then what was that about those moments when you refused to answer?” he pressed on.
“I programmed her to protect Peter’s identity in case any of you somehow found out,” Tony said. “That being said, I didn’t know he was sneaking down here.”
Clint looked at Peter. “So the footsteps… that was you?”
Peter shrugged. “I guess so.”
“And I guess that bloody handprint on the ceiling was also you.”
“…yeah”
“Bloody handprint?”
“I cleaned it up, Mr. Stark, I swear!”
“Did you get—” Tony cut himself off. “You know what? No. We’ll deal with this in the morning. With the mystery being solved, get your stuff. We’re going.”
Clint watched as Peter held the textbook under his arm and went to stand under the vent. So this was their resident ghost. Tony’s kid. The man might say what he want, but Clint was pretty sure mentors don’t watch over their mentees while their aunt is away. Plus, the whole dad mannerism he had around the kid proved it. Still… “How did he get that handprint on the ceiling? There was no ladder or—”
Peter placed his hands on the wall and jumped.
Jumped and didn’t fall.
Instead, he climbed all the way to the vent, took the mug and climbed down. His head tilted to the side once he noticed the shocked expressions. “What?”
“Hold on!” Bucky suddenly exclaimed, pointing at Peter. “You’re that spider guy from that airport! That’s why your voice is familiar!”
“Uhm…”
“You’re that asshole that webbed us up?!” Sam cried out. “Oh my god,” he turned to Bucky, “we lost to a twelve-year-old.”
“I’m fifteen and you threw me out of the window, so let’s call it even.”
“You go out at night to fight crime at fifteen?” Wanda asked. “That’s dangerous.”
Peter grinned. “Danger is my middle name.”
“Your middle name is Benjamin.”
“Mr. Stark!” Peter whined.
And then all hell broke loose. Sam and Bucky kept blabbering in disbelief, Steve began to lecture Tony on how dangerous it was to bring a child into a fight and how he shouldn’t encourage such behavior, and Peter pulled up a chair and began to recite some PSA that caused Steve to pale… as if he’s seen the ghost.
“Okay, we’re going!” Tony shouted as he threw his arm over Peter’s shoulders and began to lead him away. “And I’ll be taking that,” he said as he yanked the gun from Natasha’s arm. “I doubt the higherups would appreciate not-yet pardoned Avenger to be armed with anything.”
“Well, this was a giant waste of time,” Natasha commented after the elevator door closed and locked once again. “I’m going to bed.”
Others murmured in agreement until it was only Clint and Wanda left in the kitchen. “Even if there was no real ghost, I think it was fun. There was a certain thrill to the fear,” she smiled. “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Clint replied and leaned his back on the counter, throwing his head back. Going over all the events made sense now that he had answers. He still didn’t know when exactly Tony acquired the kid, but that was question for another time.
The lights began to flicker. His back immediately shot straight, ready to fight, until he heard a giggle.
“It was too much of a good opportunity to pass,” Wanda said and left, Clint’s eye roll seeing her off.
Now that he destroyed his sleeping schedule hunting ghosts, he didn’t feel like sleeping. Coffee won’t be much help, so tea it was. Just as he reached for the kettle, the lights began to flicker again.
“Yes, Wanda, very funny. I won’t fall for that that second time.” He turned to the light switch to find … no one. “Wanda?” There was no sign of the girl or her magic. She couldn’t be doing that. But then… who was?
The flickering took on intensity. The coffee machine turned on on its own. The flame of the candle snuffed out.
Clint ran.
“That’s mean, Mr. Stark.”
“Come on, they wanted ghosts? I’ll give them ghosts. Besides, you wouldn’t be smiling if you didn’t find it amusing.”
“Okay, I admit. It’s pretty funny.”
“Glad we’re on the same page. Now go to bed. You have school tomorrow and I don’t want a scary Italian lady to go after me because I didn’t enforce the rules enough. Also – you’re grounded.”
“Aw man.”