Marvelous Meditations

Driving away from the X-Mansion, Nathan kept one hand lightly gripping the steering wheel while the other rested on the car door. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic crunch of tires on gravel filled the silence between him and Rick.

After a moment, Nathan broke the quiet. "Well, that went well," he said, his tone calm but edged with subtle amusement.

Rick leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. "Too well," he muttered, his voice laced with suspicion. "They didn't even ask you why you're willing to risk so much just to land a gig as their security consultant."

Nathan's lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I'd wager that's the first thing they'll ask in our next meeting," he said casually. "Right now, my motives don't matter if they decide I'm untrustworthy. Better to focus on earning their confidence first."

Rick raised an eyebrow, his mouth opening to reply, but the sudden wail of a siren cut him off. Both men instinctively turned to the rearview mirror as the unmistakable flash of red and blue lights painted the car's interior. The sharp chirp of the police cruiser's horn followed, signaling them to pull over.

"Ah, this smells like trouble," Rick muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he shifted in his seat to get a better look at the vehicle tailing them.

Nathan glanced at the speedometer, his tone even as he noted, "We're well under the limit. No traffic violations on our end."

Rick frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So what do you want to do?" he asked, though the tension in his voice suggested he already knew the answer.

Nathan shot him a sidelong look, one eyebrow quirked in mild exasperation. "What else would anyone do in this situation?" he replied dryly. "Pull over, of course."

Without hesitation, Nathan eased off the accelerator and smoothly guided the car to the side of the road, coming to a controlled stop. He shifted the gear into park, his movements precise and unhurried, before glancing at Rick. "Relax," he said with a calmness that bordered on unsettling. "Let's see what they want."

Rick let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. "I don't like this," he muttered, his eyes flicking toward the side mirror. "Cops don't pull someone over without a reason."

Before Rick could formulate a response, a sharp knock on the driver's side window stole his attention. Nathan turned his head with measured calm, rolling the window down smoothly as he adopted a disarming smile. "Evening, officer," he greeted, his tone light but composed. "What can we do for you?"

The officer—a middle-aged man with a tired but sharp gaze—studied Nathan for a moment before glancing down at the phone in his hand. His expression didn't betray much, but his voice was steady as he asked, "You Nathaniel Cross?"

Rick's body stiffened at the name, his expression hardening like stone. Nathan, however, remained composed, his smile never wavering as he responded, "That's me. Is something the matter, officer?"

The cop tilted his head slightly, meeting Nathan's gaze with a neutral expression. "Not exactly, but your presence has been requested down at the station. New evidence has surfaced in an old case—something about the murder of a mobster by the name of Salvator Marino." He let the name linger in the air for a beat, watching for any reaction before adding, "You've been identified as a potential witness."

Nathan's calm façade cracked ever so slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. He masked it quickly, turning to Rick with an unreadable expression. Without making a sound, he mouthed the words, "Pay Bellucci a visit." The motion was quick and subtle, but Rick caught it, his jaw tightening as he gave a barely perceptible nod.

Nathan turned back to the officer, his demeanor cool and collected once more. "And is my presence required immediately?" he asked, his voice tinged with casual curiosity, as though discussing a minor inconvenience.

The officer shook his head slowly, his tone laced with dry amusement. "Not really, no. But they sent me to ambush you on the side of the road, which is definitely not standard procedure." He rested a hand on the roof of the car, leaning slightly as he continued, "I don't know what's going on, but if I were you, I wouldn't take my sweet time getting down there."

Nathan couldn't help but chuckle at the officer's blunt honesty. "Fair enough," he replied, nodding thoughtfully. Then, with a faint smirk, he added, "In that case, you wouldn't mind giving me a ride to the station, would you?"

The officer sighed, clearly not thrilled but resigned. "Funny you mention that. I was ordered to offer you a lift. Not exactly normal procedure either, but here we are."

Nathan gave a short nod of acknowledgment, glancing briefly at Rick, who was growing visibly more suspicious by the second. Nathan's voice softened as he said, "Sounds good. Let's not keep them waiting."

Before stepping out of the car, Nathan turned to Rick, his tone firm but calm. "You go on ahead," he instructed. "I'll catch up with you later."

Rick's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Nathan's face for any sign of hesitation. "You sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and laced with unease.

Nathan gave him a reassuring look, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah," he said simply. "I've got this."

...

Captain George Stacy stood stiffly in front of the one-way mirror, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his neatly pressed NYPD uniform jacket. The lines on his face were deepened by the dim, fluorescent lighting, and a hint of gray peeked through his dark hair at the temples. His sharp eyes, the kind that had seen too much of New York's grit and grime, were fixed on the man sitting in the interrogation room.

Nathan Cross sat perfectly still, hands folded neatly on the steel table, his face calm and unreadable under the pale, harsh light.

Beside Stacy stood Steve Rogers, taller and broader, his presence commanding yet calm. He was dressed in civilian clothes—a fitted leather jacket, a plain navy shirt, and jeans—but even out of uniform, there was no mistaking him. The golden hair, clean-shaven face, and unwavering blue eyes practically screamed "Captain America."

Steve leaned forward slightly, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes narrowing as he studied Nathan.

"He's been sitting there for four hours," Captain Stacy said, breaking the silence. His voice was steady but tinged with unease. "No requests for water, food, or even a lawyer. Nothing." He shook his head, his gaze never leaving the glass. "Normally, we leave suspects in there to stew, rattle their nerves a bit, you know? But... just watching him, sitting there, completely still—he hasn't even twitched—it's starting to rattle me."

Steve's lips curled into a small smile as he glanced sideways at Stacy. "He's not your average suspect, that's for sure," he said, his tone light but with an undertone of gravity.

Stacy frowned, his unease deepening. "You don't say." He finally turned to face Steve fully, his expression cautious. "I've always admired you, Cap. Hell, most New Yorkers do. But..." He gestured toward the room with a subtle tilt of his head. "We're not exactly equipped to handle an Avenger-level threat in here. If something happens and my people get hurt—"

Steve raised a hand, placing it gently on Stacy's shoulder. "If we thought for a second that he'd be a danger to your officers, he wouldn't have been brought here," he said firmly. There was an unshakable certainty in his voice, the kind that could steady a ship in a storm. "The man's dangerous, yeah, but not to you. Not today."

Stacy let out a breath through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn't look entirely convinced, but he gave Steve a nod. "Alright. But if something goes sideways in there..." He trailed off, his eyes flicking back to Nathan. "Just promise me you'll keep my people safe."

Steve smiled faintly, his hand dropping from Stacy's shoulder. "You have my word. If anything happens, I'll put my life on the line to make sure no one gets hurt. But trust me—he's not here to cause trouble."

The captain's shoulders eased slightly, though the tension in his jaw lingered. "Alright," he said again, softer this time. "I hope you're right."

Steve gave him one more reassuring nod and turned toward the door leading to the interrogation room.

His movements were measured, deliberate, yet calm, like a man who knew how to approach a caged animal without spooking it. He paused just before opening the door and glanced back at Stacy.

"I think he's waited long enough," Steve said. Then, with a firm push, he opened the door and stepped inside.

...

As Steve Rogers stepped into the interrogation room, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights was the only sound that greeted him. Nathan Cross, sitting calmly at the steel table, slowly raised his head to meet Steve's gaze. A smirk tugged at the corner of Nathan's lips, followed by a low chuckle that echoed faintly off the sterile walls.

Steve quirked an eyebrow as he approached the table, his expression open yet curious. "What's so funny, son?" he asked, his voice steady and calm—not offended, not guarded, just genuinely curious.

Nathan gestured vaguely at the room around them before leaning back in his chair. "Using an old case to get me into a police station," he said, his tone dry. "And then sending Captain America of all people to question me?" He shook his head with a wry smile. "It's a clever move, I'll give you that. Especially for someone as... rigid as Fury."

Steve couldn't help but chuckle at the remark as he pulled out the chair opposite Nathan and sat down, his movements unhurried and deliberate. "So, you know about Fury," Steve said, leaning forward slightly. There was no accusation in his tone—just a sense of interest, like someone piecing together a puzzle.

Nathan shrugged, resting an elbow on the table and tapping his fingers idly. "Let's just say I went to great lengths to get his attention," he said casually. "Though I'll admit, I wasn't expecting this level of theatrics."

Steve leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "And you went to even greater lengths to show him he needs to play nice," he replied, his tone edged with mild amusement. "So much for his grand plan... not that I cared much for it in the first place."

Nathan's smirk faded into something more thoughtful as he tilted his head. His curiosity was piqued now. "Then what do you care for, Captain?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with intrigue. "Why are you here?"

Steve let out a quiet sigh, his gaze dropping for a moment before locking back on Nathan. "I care about having a heart-to-heart with you," he said plainly. "From one soldier to another." He paused, studying Nathan's reaction before continuing. "You see, son, I've seen your record. And while Fury tends to lean toward the overly paranoid—" He stopped himself, offering a faint, self-deprecating smile. "Well, let's just say I share his concerns this time."

Nathan's brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, letting Steve's words settle in the air between them.

Steve leaned forward now, his hands clasped together on the table. "And seeing as you're still sitting here, not demanding a lawyer or making a fuss, I'm guessing you're planning to cooperate?"

Nathan's lips twitched, but he didn't immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair, his eyes carefully studying the man in front of him.

"Depends," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "What exactly do you think I'm cooperating with?"

Steve held his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "That is what I'm here to find out," he said, "granted you'll answer some of my questions..."

...

I'm motivated by praise and interaction, so be sure to leave a like, power stone, or whatever kind of shendig this site uses, and more importantly do share you thoughts on the chapter in the comment section!

Want more chapters? Then consider subscribing to my pat rēon. You can read ahead for as little as $1 and it helps me a lot!

 -> (pat rēon..com / wicked132) 

You can also always come and say hi on my discord server 

 -> (disc ord..gg / sEtqmRs5y7)- or hit me up at - Wicked132#5511 - and I'll add you myself)