Just a heads up: I read up on articles for 'Said Bookism' and how to properly punctuate dialogue, so there are going to be some relatively minor changes. Mostly I'll stop writing like I'm reading through a thesaurus and just use 'said, asked and answered/replied' whenever possible since it's apparently the more proper thing to do. Likewise I'll use less adverbs and use proper punctuation with commas and periods dependent on whether what follows is an action or statement.

If anyone notices any difference then tell me if it's better or worse :) I'm trying to get better and hopefully by switching to proper usage the story's easier to read. I'll still put the occasional other word, it'll just be rarer.

Warning: Second half's a bit more angsty than originally intended. Next chapter should be less severe, at least because of Bullseye's presence.

He knew he shouldn't have trusted her.

Spider-Man looked around the soldiers surrounding him. Stars and Stripes' orders made them stop pointing their weird lightshow guns at him, but he could still feel his spider-sense blaring dully at the back of his head. He didnt know how far it went, not really, but even through their helmets he could tell that a lot of them were tempted to just shoot him. They were afraid of him, afraid he'd turn into a monster like the Parker kid and tear em all to shreds, and all because some computer told them he was 'infected'.

Damn idiots.

Then again, he couldn't exactly throw stones considering how he got in this mess, 'Just let em test you and then they'll leave you alone...she sure sold that bridge to me.' He glared at the supposed 'Superhero'. She was looking between him and the screen, her 'eyes' wide and her arms hanging limply at her side. He frowned and resisted the urge to try and split the joint. He could take out a few of these guys, but with Stars and Stripes and White Widow he wouldn't get very far.

He didn't like his chances.

The older guy in the labcoat was the first to talk, looking at him up and down like he was a piece of meat, "Um...Mister Spider," he said, fingers twitching nervously, "Do you...feel anything out of the ordinary? Any flashes of anger or..."

"Depends. Wouldn't you feel angry if people pointed guns and looked at you like you're about to turn into a monster?" he asked back, rolling his eyes when the doctor failed to give an answer, "If you mean that then yeah, I'm not exactly feeling like I just got offered a warm glass of milk."

"That's not what we meant," Alistair said, "You see...the serum has certain properties when inserted into the human body..." He gestured to the screen, at the numbers and pictures that didn't make any sense to him like it would prove his point, "The serum has both benefits and drawbacks. As you can tell by the reaction of the agents those drawbacks can be severe." He grimaced. Spider-Man didn't miss the way said agents looked at each other uncomfortably, "Forgive our caution, but an outbreak of infection could be severe."

"I could tell that by the little party you guys threw me," Spider-Man said, crossing his arms and relaxing slightly as the blaring at the back of his head dulled. They were calming down, if just for a bit, "If you think I'm gonna turn into a giant lizard then you might as well shoot me. I'm not gonna turn, but I doubt there's anything I can say to convince you otherwise so just pull those triggers or don't."

Nothing. He saw a few of their hand's twitch, one of them even going for the handle of their baton, but Stars and Stripes cut in before anything could happen.

"No one's shooting anyone," she said, giving them all a severe look before flashing him a glare, "And I'd appreciate if you try not to antagonize them, thank you." She shook her head, mouth curled in a frown, "Everyone's on edge because of the results but lets think about this rationally. Spider-Man, do you remember getting injected with the serum at all since you got here?"

"No. The only drugs I put in are morphine and painkillers, nothing that turns me to something big, green and scaly," he replied, giving White Widow another look. She hadn't said a word and it was beginning to worry him.

"Think carefully. Perhaps you-"

"I just said I don't know why." He scowled and held back an insult. He was surrounded by guys with guns and itchy trigger fingers in a brightly lit room; he'd get turned to Swiss cheese before taking even half of the greaseballs out, "I don't know how...that got into me, but it sure as hell isn't because I put it in there myself..." He stared at the computer console and frowned. He was tempted to call it sabotage, but his spider-sense never once warned him anything was wrong when they put the needle to his arm.

Something else was going on.

"I...I believe him," White Widow said, finally speaking up. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden vote of confidence but said nothing. He'd take what he could get, even if it came from her, "Cap, we saw what the serum did to people. They...They turned in seconds and they couldn't control themselves. Pet- Spider-Man is in control and he doesn't look like he's going to turn into one of...those, right?"

"It's still a risk-"

"We know, Spencer, but Spider-Woman has a point." Stars-and-Stripes looked at him, her eyes narrowed, "The computer doesn't lie: Your blood is practically covered in the serum, but the fact that you're standing here now and show none of the symptoms is suspect. Relieving, but suspect."

"So glad to have your approval..." Spider-Man said, the sarcasm obvious, "So...what happens now? Your goons gonna shoot me anyway?"

"No, but we can reach a compromise." She pulled another syringe out of her pockets and offered it to him, "I brought this just in case. If you put this into your system I'm sure everyone around will be much calmer."

He stared at the offered syringe for a moment before carefully accepting it. There was nothing suspect about it at first glance - except for the fact that the liquid inside was yellow, but honestly that was one of the least weird things he'd seen - and again his spider-sense was eerily silent as he placed it closer to his neck. She wasn't lying to him and it wasn't going to harm him, that at least he could be sure of.

He injected the the needles into his flesh, hissing slightly at the stinging sensation that came and went. A part of him expected the drug to cause havoc, maybe make his blood feel like it was on fire while it did what it did, but there was only a spreading feeling of numbness. It was almost relaxing in a way, and by the time he returned the syringe to Stars-and-Stripes it was already fading.

"...What was that?" he asked, giving another once-over to the group surrounding him. Already he could see their postures relaxing, some even beginning to walk away to return to their posts.

"A suppressant," she replied, "The Lizard Serum has no known cure so anyone infected has to take these daily to avoid going out of control and turning." He saw her grimace and shake her head before she turned to the screen, "That should last you at least a couple of days. We've found that different people have varying degrees of resistance. Some need to take it every few hours..."

"Great..." He sighed.

"Your resistance must be more potent than the rest," Alistair said, hand on his chin and gaze focused, "Even if we ascribe to the idea that your infection was recent you should have already been showing signs of the symptoms long before you arrived here. If we posit instead that you've had the serum in your blood for days..." He paused, "It could mean that you have the closest thing to immunity to the serum as we've seen so far."

"We can deal with that later. I'm more curious on the 'how' and 'why' he exactly has the serum in him at all," White Widow said, "Every time I've seen that serum it's ruined people's lives. It...we have to find out how you got it, Spider-Man, before..."

'Before I end up like that Parker kid...' He rubbed at his wrist, thumb grazing over the fresh injury from where they drew blood. He wasn't sure if he bought that crackpot's little drug being inside him, but what he believed didn't matter: They sure as hell believed that he had it and what they said goes, at least least until he got out of here. Bullseye might have been content with running from these guys but he couldn't afford to be chased down by these bozos while he was searching for Octavius.

"Agreed." Stars-and-Stripes nodded, "With that in mind I suggest we take this conversation elsewhere. What I'm about to show you is sensitive and I'd rather not talk about it so openly." She gave the soldiers a look, most of them immediately dispersing while a few stayed behind for a few seconds before quickly following the rest. He had to admit; he didn't think a Negro dame dressed like a propaganda picture would earn so much respect, but there it was.

"Shouldn't we run more tests, Captain?" Spencer asked, "This is-"

"Later," she said, her voice little room for argument, "Spider-Woman, Spider-Man, follow me."

He kept his eyes on Stars-and-Stripes' back, ignoring the fleeting stares that a few of the soldiers gave him as they passed. The 'Superhero' was looking at him too; he could see the way she twisted her neck to glance at him, almost immediately turning away when he looked back at her. She knew about the serum, knew about what it did to...that kid. It didn't take a genius to see that she blamed herself for his dumb mistake.

"Oh my God...Peter, I-"

He looked down at the floor and scowled. He didn't know much about that kid, but his last words were ringing in his head: 'I just wanted to be special, like you...' He shook his head and tried to stave off the coming headache. He heard it every night he went to sleep, woke up hearing the echoes before other thoughts came to replace them.

It was so...petty. That would-be scientist wanted power for its own sake, wanted it to take revenge and because he was in love with the idea of a hero, 'I wonder if she knows he felt like that about her,' Spider-Man thought, glancing at the White Widow. The kid admired her, maybe even loved her, but it was just a shallow image. She was a 'Superhero', the dame in the colorful suit who broke every law of science and physics and then making a joke about it afterwards.

All he saw was a dame sitting on a high horse convinced she was always right.

They stopped in a small room, the inside barren save a large metal table and a few chairs, "We should be alone here," Stars-and-Stripes' said. Before they could do anything else she pressed a button on the wall and a thin metal sheet covered the windows, blocking anyone from possibly peeking in.

Spider-Man took a seat on one of the empty chairs, White Widow jumping on the side-wall and sticking to the surface, her feet and back keeping her from falling, 'I can't tell if she's trying to show-off or she's just milking the spider thing for all its worth.' He shook his head and watched as the other dame pulled out a folder from one of the cabinets. She was an attention seeker, at least that's what he figured. She wouldn't know the meaning of keeping a low profile if it shot her in the keister.

"Sorry about the panic earlier." Stars-and-Stripes' said, "The serum's hit a bit close to home for all of us."

"I could tell by the guns." He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Now that he wasn't surrounded by paranoid goons with itchy trigger fingers he could allow himself to relax, even if only slightly.

"Glad it didn't end up going too badly..." White Widow said. Her voice had none of its usual force or cheer, which he found halfway relieving and worrying, "I've seen the effects of the serum first-hand. If it's inside you...I mean, if you've been affected by it then it's possible-"

"That I'm a dead man." He gave her a withering look, "You don't have to dance around it, boss. This ain't the first time I've been dragged through the mud and it ain't yours either. We put on this mask and go out every night it means we might not come back...well, at least I won't. Not sure if anyone can really kill you considering you can lift a damn truck like it's nothing."

"That's different. It's not like fighting Hippo or those gangsters in the warehouse. You can't just punch the serum away like you could them. Once that's in your system..." She took a shaky breath, "The suppressants help, but you're going to need a daily dosage to avoid turning and...God, we still don't know why you remember things from you or Peter or wh-whoever!"

"Does it matter at this point? We both know it's not mine and I can deal with a few nightmares."

"Maybe, maybe not," Stars-and-Stripes' cut in, "Either way it's just one of the problems here, like Spider-Woman said. Something tells me this involves both of you, in more ways than one. Lets start from the beginning."

"Didn't we already do that?" Spider-Man asked back.

"Not exactly..." She opened the folder, spreading open the pictures contained within, "You told me before that you came here two weeks ago, correct? I'd place your arrival at about the first week of January, so just a little after the new years. You're sticking to this story?"

"Don't see why I wouldn't; it's exactly what happened."

"Uh-huh..." She turned to White Widow now, "You also told me you found him not long after this, correct?"

"Yeah...he was saving that kid you guys have under treatment." He frowned. He'd nearly forgotten about Gabriel with everything that had been going on. Hopefully the kid was alright now that the Blockhead and the rest of his goons were in the slammer, "Beyond that it's been...on-and-off more or less. He's been doing his own thing for the most part, though I meet up with him from time to time."

"More than I'd like..."

"Right. Here's the next question then." She looked back at him, "When you woke up in that alley you were alone, right?" He nodded. If Octavius was there he would have wrung that little bastard's neck and beat the answers on how to get back home out of him, "Right, this is crucial: Tell me exactly where he was before you two were separated. You were both in front of the portal, I have to assume, so what was the distance between you two?"

"Close...I had my hands around his neck." White Widow gave him a look, which he ignored. He'd already imagined that from De Wolfe, he didn't need it from her, "That thing...he said it didn't work, but when I got there...damn thing started buzzing worse than Frankenstein's monster." He shook his head, "I had my hands around his neck when that thing spread over to us then..."

"Then you woke up in that alley," she finished. At his nod she let out a tired breath, "Right, I can tell you believe that's the truth, but-"

"Not for nothing, it's what happened. If Octavius was next to me when I woke up you think I'd still be in this madhouse?"

"That's assuming he could repeat whatever it is that brought you both here, which I have my doubts." She tapped the photos and urged them both to look closer, "Let me tell you two something: I've been traveling through different worlds for 75 years, and I didn't always do it alone. I've had friends who decided to leave their worlds to accompany me either because of loyalty or because they wanted to find a way out of their dimensions and make a home elsewhere."

"There a point to this, flag-bearer?" Spider-Man asked.

"Point is that when we went through a portal we didn't end up separated. Whether the portal was created from technology from that world or it was a natural occurrence we left and arrived in comparable distances to one another."

"And Octavius was missing..."

"Right." She nodded, "Now, look at these pictures."

Taking a closer look at the assorted photographs lining the desk, his eyes widened and he almost grabbed the folder from the table in his haste, "Octavius..." He rifled through the pictures. Most of them were an uncolored gray, some of them blurry, but he could see him in all of them: The crippled half-portion looked the same as he always did sans his twisted wheelchair, replaced by something that looked like it could blend in easier in a crowd.

The places were all different. Sometimes he looked like he was in some kind of lobby while wearing a business suit, at other times a wide area filled with luggage and dressed like he was going on vacation. He looked like he'd been busy the past two weeks.

"Searching for an 'Otto Octavius' was a bit more complicated than I thought it'd be," Stars-and-Stripes' said, "It's not a common name by any means, but from what Spider-Woman told us you described him as a 'small, crippled German'. That narrowed the search margin down by a lot, but I still wasn't sure if he was the correct one." She stared at him, though he was too busy sorting through the pictures to pay her any care, "...I'm guessing he's the right one."

"Yeah, I'd recognize this fink anywhere." He couldn't stop himself from scowling as he came across a picture of him shaking another man's hand, a smile on his pale face. The Nazi crumb...he'd gotten away twice now. Once he found him he would-

"Huh, so that's what he looks like," White Widow said, jarring him out of his pleasant thoughts, "But...wait, that doesn't make any sense-"

"What are you talking about?" He asked, turning toward her with a glare, "Octavius is here, there's proof right in front of you-"

"Look at the date, Peter! It says he's been here for five years!"

He wanted to give a rebuttal, say something to prove that she was wrong, but she grabbed one of the pictures from the pile and pointed at the numbers lining the bottom before he could say anything, "Look, it says right here: 03/19/2011! This footage was taken years ago, so it doesn't make any sense that you're from another dimension or whatever if you both just got here a couple of weeks ago!"

"...You're lying-"

"She's right," Stars-and Stripes' said grimly, "I checked over these pictures myself. Your reaction to seeing this Octavius guy was legit, so at least I can gather that this is the guy you're looking for. Now the question I have to ask: You say you've been here for a couple of weeks, but the dates on those pictures don't lie. Either you're telling the truth or you're hiding something."

"Why would I lie to you?" he bit back. None of this was making any sense. He knew he'd been here for only two weeks. He'd woken up in that alley with everything intact and he was pretty damn sure he would have noticed if he aged five years, "I...don't know what's going on but I'm not hiding anything. I woke up in that alley with nothing but the clothes off my back and anything I was carrying on me."

"Calm down. Despite my words, I do actually believe you." Stars-and-Stripes' replied, "I got a good look at that mug of yours and unless you started this vigilante gig of yours when you were 13 then the timeline doesn't make any sense. Still..." She grabbed one of the pictured and tapped the date, "This doesn't lie, either. I believe you when you say that you've been here for only two weeks, but the facts aren't matching up."

"If I'm really from another dimension then maybe we just got put in different times? Makes about as much sense as anything else," he suggested.

"Doesn't work. I spent 75 years traveling to try and find a way back and 75 years passed here as well. I don't know what 'rules', if any, these alternate dimensions follow but time seems to be at a constant flow regardless. This Octavius guy was here for five years, we can determine that, but based on your physical age it doesn't add up if you both came here together." She let out a tired breath, "Unfortunately, that's not even the worst news."

"Of course there's more," Spider-Man muttered, "Let me guess: He's the president?"

"Nothing quite so simple," she said, giving him a wry smile, "We found him in contact with agents of S.I.L.K; Spider-Woman's been acquainted with one of their top agents and you met one of their victims not too long ago with that Maxine girl."

"...Honestly, that doesn't surprise me." He rolled his eyes and sighed, "Octavius was always a little toad, latching onto anyone that would take him; first the Nazis and now whoever this 'Silk' group is. I'm not sure if it still holds up, but back in my time his natural genius was almost unparalleled. I guess he could have offered that so they'd look out for him..."

"A Nazi?" Stars-and-Stripes raised an eyebrow before quickly brushing it off, "Either way I doubt this is a coincidence. Spider-Woman has more experience dealing with them than you do, but this Octavius' connection to the group means that you're involved as well." She looked at his left wrist, "And it might explain where you got that infection. S.I.L.K's been refining the serum ever since they got their hands on it."

"You think that Octavius guy injected Peter?" White Widow asked, her 'eyes' narrowing.

"It's a possibility, though that doesn't explain his lack of symptoms. Unfortunately we can't tell when exactly he had the serum injected to his system, but I think it'd be best if he took the suppressants just in case." She put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder, "But besides that we need to talk about something else, Spider-Woman. Alone." She turned back to look at him, "Are you going to be fine on your own for a few minutes?"

"Not afraid I'm going to leave once you turn your back?" he asked back.

"Sure, if you think you can find Octavius or take down S.I.L.K on your own then feel free. You'd be doing us a favor." She shrugged, "But since I doubt that's going to happen any time soon you better just sit down and wait."

"Yeah, yeah..."

He looked back at the table and focused on the assorted pictures, ignoring the sound of the door opening and closing behind him. He needed to make sense of this, try to understand what was happening, "You're a dead man, Octavius..." He took one of the more recent photos - taken only a few months ago - and stared intently at its contents. Still Octavius, only his hair was styled differently this time.

It didn't matter; he'd recognize that face anywhere and those mangled legs of his were going to stay with him till the day he croaked. He was going to pay for everything once he got his hands on his spindly little neck.

The door opening from behind was followed by the dull thrum of his spider-sense: Someone's here. Turning around, he was met with another dame in uniform being flanked by the two scientists from before and a few pairs of guards carrying lightshow guns. Despite not having much in the way of bulk it was pretty damn obvious she was in charge...female rights protesters back home would have thrown a parade if they saw this place.

"Is this him?" she asked, the older scientist giving her a nod in return, "Right then..." She stepped into the room and stood in front of him, the others staying by the door and blocking any sort of escape. By the way her eyes were narrowed it was clear she didn't want to be here any more than he did, "My name is Maria Hill. You're the vigilante known as The Dark Spider, correct?"

"Spider-Man, actually," he replied. This dame was trouble: Rigid posture, short brown hair and equally dark narrowed eyes that practically bore into him. He could feel the thrumming grow louder, though not to the point of true danger. It was the same feeling he got whenever he had to talk to Gwen Stacy from back home; she didn't like him, that was clear, "I'm guessing you're here for a reason."

"You have the Lizard serum in your system. Is this true?"

"Yeah, and I got the injection to keep it under the lid. Your point?"

She nodded to the assorted goons at the door and they practically stampeded into the room, most of em rushing to his back. The thrum had turned into a louder beat, "You're coming with us. We need to conduct some tests."

"...And if I say no?"

Multiple clicks from behind sounded out and he could practically feel the barrels of the lightshow guns being pointed at the back of his head. At this distance at least one of them would hit, and he didn't like his chances being on the other end of any of the dynamos in this madhouse.

"I wasn't asking."

He was shoved into a clear, square container, the door shutting behind him just as quickly as it opened. Turning around, he threw a punch at the glass-like surface and winced as it refused to budge, "It's no use. That's a containment cell specifically designed to hold those with enhanced abilities. Any attack will have no effect," she said, her face never changing even as he threw another punch where her head would have been, "You can continue your futile attacks or you can cooperate and we can get this over with."

"Lady, you got a real twisted meaning of cooperation if you think shoving a gun at someone's head and putting them inside a box is a good idea."

"This is the most expedient way, and in the interest of continuing that I'll make this brief: I don't care who you are under that mask or why you've been empowered, so don't worry about that. You do, however, have something we need."

"Yeah, what's that? Common sense?"

"The possibility of a cure for the serum," she said, just barely keeping her eyes off him to grab a small bottle, "One of the doctors has a theory and we'd like to test it. If it fails then we'll let you out and you and I will never see each other again."

"And if it succeeds?"

"Then we save six innocent people at acceptable risk to you. You have nothing to lose."

Spider-Man turned away and scowled. Her words...she was being honest, he could at least pick that up. Still, he couldn't deny that a part of him wanted to smack her right in the jaw for having her goombas put those guns at the back of his head, 'Not a good idea...' He sighed. One of the reasons he was still alive was because he knew when to get up and when to stay down.

And right now he had to crawl on his knees.

"...What's this theory?"

"It's quite possible that one of your abilities is a resistance to toxins," she said, her tone becoming less clipped now that he was 'cooperating', "If so then it's quite possible that we can analyze and replicate it - to a degree, at least - and we can find a cure for the serum. This will also allow us to preemptively counteract any more uses of it again us and others and save a lot of lives."

"You sound like you're trying to sell me something." He scoffed. If she was then she was doing it after stealing his wallet, "Fine, I'll do your tests. What do I have to do?"

A small hole in front of him opened, the bottle she held being shoved through it immediately which he took off her hands, "These are painkillers. Most of the time they disperse from someone's system in a few hours or days, but if the theory's correct then it should be flushed in an accelerated rate. The containment unit you're in analyzes your internal body, so we just have to wait.

"Peachy..."

He took three of the small pills and swallowed, ignoring the slight numbness that he felt. A part of him hoped that they were wrong, but he knew it was a pipe dream. Ever since he got bitten by that spider he'd been changed, and not getting drunk was just the beginning. Maybe it was the price he had to pay for his abilities, but there was a reason why drugs and other narcotics only gave him short bursts of relief before leaving him.

Who knew, maybe it was the reason he healed so quick or maybe the Spider-God just liked to fuck with him.

Fifteen minutes passed before Spencer finally spoke up, "It's...I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it for myself, but..." He took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing, "Mr. Spider...your genetics are normal, almost oddly so, but if what I'm seeing is correct then our theory is right - You flush foreign substances and accelerants far faster than any human being I've seen. The painkillers should have lasted for at least half a day, and yet they're gone from your system."

"You'll forgive me if I'm not dancing for joy, doc..."

"But that's not all!" he continued, ignoring his rebuke, "We've...I-I don't know to describe it exactly, but here." He turned the smaller screen around and showed him what looked like a green cell, "The serum is in your system, but it's...inert. Like a...benign tumor, if you pardon the comparison. It was so latent we almost missed it, but-"

"What dad means to say is that this is normally impossible," Alistair cut-in, "When the serum is injected into the bloodstream it quickly spreads throughout the body, warping cells as it goes and turning the infected into an inhuman state. But here..." He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard and the image moved, "You can see here it's trying to spread, but whatever is inside your body is preventing it from doing so. It cuts away the infected cells before it can take over, albeit it's not strong enough to expel the base of the infection directly."

"Why would my blood be infected, then? It should have come up as safe." He knew he should have been less frank, but the part of him that stuck his head into books and research made it hard for him to not be at least curious.

"Unknown at the time, but if what I'm guessing is correct whatever antibodies your gifts give you remains only while the serum is in contact with you specifically. When we took the blood from you the infected cells that were rendered inert spread across the now-separated blood." He clicked his tongue, "Unfortunately, with the serum now trapped at the baseline level we can't see how it did this."

"So it's useless." He frowned, "If this 'antibody' you're looking for is inside me then you can't give it to anyone else."

"Not exactly, Me. Spider," Alistair said, "There might be a way we could see the process in action, but the risk is more severe than simply ingesting a few painkillers.

He was about to ask what he meant before the hole opened again, Hill shoving a syringe into the small gap and letting it fall to the floor. Peter watched the it roll towards him, stopping only when it hit his boot, "...Something tells me this ain't another painkiller." He picked up the syringe and stared with narrowed eyes at the green fluid that filled a quarter of the inside.

"The Lizard Serum, at least what we managed to recreate from what we could gather," Hill said, "It's not a large enough dose to force a transformation, but there's enough there to provoke a reaction. Once it's inside your antibodies should purge it from your system and we can gather the data. Once we have the results you'll be free to go, and we'll compensate you if that's what you want."

"You came prepared, didn't you?" He twisted the hypo in his hands. If the kid's memories were right then an overdose of this would turn him into a monster, 'Probably why they put me in this cage...' If he lost control then at least he wouldn't kill anyone, that was probably what they were thinking.

"I'm not gonna lie; it's not going to be pleasant, but I can assure you that you won't turn into a monster."

"Little late to be playing the trust card." He scoffed, twisting the cap off and staring at the two small needles. It boiled down to numbers - It put him at risk, but if they extracted those antibodies from him then they could save six innocent people. Pragmatic and...he had to admit that from a impersonal view it made sense. One life for six, though usually the ones he risked were criminals.

Besides, it wasn't like had a choice at this point.

The stinging sensation of the needles piercing his skin was nothing compared to what came afterwards. He could hear his spider-sense blaring, the loud drone almost deafening as he fell on his knees. Just barely he could hear the scientists saying something, but it was drowned out by the sounds of his own screaming and the din of his sixth sense warning him that he was in danger.

"I...I did it!" Peter looked at the test-tube excitedly, his hands grasping the glass gently. It took him weeks and he even had to steal some supplies from anywhere he could, but it was all worth it.

Finally, he could be more than just 'Puny Parker'. He would show them all.

"How is his body purging the serum? That defense system wasn't there before!" He shut his eyes tightly and used his hands to cover his ears. Too loud, they were all too loud! He needed to shut them up!

"Ah. Yeah...right. The gig. Ah, okay then. I'll-I'll see you there, I guess..." Harry mumbled, turning away and leaving the gym as Gwen gave him an odd look.

"Girl, you're either a deadly viper assassin or you've got subzero game," Gloria said.

"Huh? What?" Gwen looked back at her, a confused expression on her face.

"Osborn, you're just gonna let him twist like that? He was asking you out, genius."

The lead of the pencil snapped as he applied too much force to it. Mumbling an 'I have to go', he trudged out of the gym and ignored the heckling of Carl King and his pack of cronies as he passed them by on the hallways. It was easy; they were bullies, jerks who wouldn't amount to anything once they left high school and couldn't push people around to do their work for them. Their days were numbered.

But Harry...Harry was one of his best friends, and that made what he did sting all the more. Harry knew he loved Gwen, but apparently none of that mattered to him. He understood why he fell for her, but understanding didn't mean a lot right now.

His fists grew sore as he continued to punch the walls of his cage. The scientists were scrambling, trying to find whatever it is they were looking for while Hill just continued to look at him. A growl emanated from the back of his throat and he punched the glass a final time, the barest traces of cracks finally appearing on the surface and causing the woman to step back slightly.

Good. She knew she was next.

It was going to be simple. Once he injected himself with the serum he would become one of the Gifted, no different from the likes of Janet van Dyne or Captain America who used science to become who they were.

He could be just like Spider-Woman. He could become a hero, idolized by the masses rather than being a loser who'd never amount to anything.

Throwing away the last traces of his hesitation, he pressed the test tube to his lips and drank the serum down.

"What the hell is going on here!?"

Gwen surprised herself by how loudly she'd shouted, but the sight in front of her was enough to push through whatever uncertainty she had: Spencer and Alistair poring over a terminal, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent standing in front of what looked like a Plexiglas container...

...and Peter was trapped inside, barely moving as he rocked himself in a fetal position.

Cap was the first to say anything, pushing past her and glaring at the other agent in the room, "What the hell are you doing here, Hill?" She asked, looking like she was barely avoiding just openly sneering at the woman outright, "This isn't your operation-"

"It's not yours either, not anymore" she said, looking at both Cap and her passively, "Your task was to take the vigilante in for testing."

"I did that. He's-"

"The only one immune to the serum," 'Hill' finished, looking back at Peter's slowly rocking form, "At that point the variables changed. Don't you understand what this means? He's the key to saving those six people, saving Harry Osborn's victims who your little 'protege' let escape." She glared at her, Gwen giving her own back, "He wasn't given enough to transform him and we knew he could purge it given enough time. The risks were acceptable.

"Jesus Christ, he's just a kid!"

"A kid who killed one S.I.L.K's experiments and who, need I remind you, you fought along with Frank Castle before you unmasked him. The facts don't change just because he's younger than you assumed." She turned to the two scientists, "Did you get the results you needed?"

"No, it's..." The older Smythe shook his head, "The antibodies he uses to purge the serum...it's as if they disappear completely once they accomplish their task." He rubbed his temples and grimaced, "We'd...We'd need to try and extract them from him as they're flushing the serum from his system, it's not something we can replicate on just visual data alone."

"Meaning we need to repeat the procedure-"

"Are you insane!?" Gwen yelled, stomping up to the older woman and shoving a finger at her chest pointedly, "Look at him! You know what the serum can do, what makes you think injecting him with it twice is anything but a bad idea!?"

"I could say the same for releasing a known terrorist who gave the serum to S.I.L.K in the first place," She replied, looking down at her coolly, "You are in no position to judge me. Just because you have Wilson's ear doesn't change facts: You're not a S.H.I.E.L.D agent and you certainly don't have the right to decide what I can and cannot do given the things you've already gotten away with."

"You're torturing him!"

"An acceptable risk to save six innocent lives." She turned back to the scientists, "Give me another dose, the same as before."

Enough was enough.

Gwen grabbed the woman by the collar and pulled her up, lifting her off the floor with her back against the see-through wall of the cage, "Get him out of that cage! Now!" She saw the agent's eyes narrow, her lips dipping in a sight frown, but she showed no other signs of caring at the sudden manhandling she was receiving, "I'm not fucking around! That serum's not going to kill anyone else! Open the door!"

"Belay that order," she said calmly, "Spider-Woman has no authority here."

She raised a hand to punch her before Cap pulled her back, "She doesn't, but I do." She tightened her hold on her arm, "Spider-Woman, let go of agent Hill and you can take him away from here. You have my word on that."

"Wilson-"

"Look at him! Even if he is immune to the serum it still affects him either way!" She looked down at his shaking form in pity, "I...We'll talk to Peggy about this, but until then neither of us are going to get involved, is that clear?"

"You're making a mistake-"

"Just let him out." Gwen released her hold on her and stepped back. She'd nearly knocked her lights out, and as ashamed as she was to admit she didn't feel very guilty even if the agent wasn't a criminal. She'd be damned if she let what happened to Peter happen to anyone else no matter who they were. That serum ruined enough lives, adding another body to the pile wouldn't solve anything.

The 'door' (if it could even be called that) to the cage opened and she stepped inside, carrying Peter out with as much care as she could muster. She could hear both of the Smythe's and the agent say something to her, but she blocked their words out. They could have made a speech about how it was completely justified and how it would serve the greater good at some point and she honestly wouldn't have given a fuck.

Gwen rushed outside, crawling up the walls in lieu of taking the elevator, and then broke into a swing once she got out of the building entirely. It was more difficult with Peter hanging off one hand, but she sure as hell wasn't going to leave him anywhere in his state.

She was angry...no, that was an understatement: She was pissed. She didn't know who he was - maybe he was Peter or maybe he was an alternate dimension counterpart like he believed - but right now it didn't matter. That fucking poison took both her best friends away from her, doomed six other innocent people and God only knew what else once that S.I.L.K organization started weaponizing it.

She wasn't going to lose anyone else.

She had dipped low in her swing over a roof when he stirred, moving in a sudden frenzy that caused her to drop him in surprise, "Shit, Peter!" She winced as he landed on the snowy surface of the building. She could only hope he didn't break anything from the fall, "God, shit, I'm sorry!" She rushed to his side and knelt down next to him, "Is anything broken? We can-"

"Get off me."

He shoved her off and stood up shakily, his few steps wobbly until he fell again with a dull thud. Gwen gave another wince and offered him a hand, "Come on, whatever they did to you really fucked you up. Let me help you."

"Like you care..." He swatted away her hand and stood up again, finally finding a sense of balance, "You were the only reason I was 'in there' in the first place. You were the one who told me to get tested, and because of that...I got drug put inside me again."

"Peter, that's not what I-"

"Stop calling me that!" he screamed, loud enough that she almost shrunk back, "That's my name...but the way you say it, you think I'm that stupid kid who died." He laughed bitterly, "That's what this is for you, isn't it? Some twisted try at 'redemption'. You think that I'm your second chance, that if you 'save me' you can take away the guilt because you think you're responsible for an idiot getting himself killed."

"Peter, stop..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her hands shaky. It wasn't his fault. The serum, it must have been affecting him, "That's not why I-"

"Isn't it? You didn't care enough to keep tabs on me before you found out I had a dead kid's face. You didn't take my gun from me and treat me like a damn cripple until you saw what was under the mask." He scowled, "Well you know what? I'm not him. I didn't get jealous just because a friend asked out a girl I liked. I didn't crawl into my bed and cry myself to sleep when I got beat up. And you know what the biggest difference is?"

"Peter, don't-"

"I didn't turn myself into a Goddamn monster!"

She knew she made a mistake as soon as she'd done but, but hindsight was always 20-20. Before she could stop herself a hand lashed out, fingers curled into a fist and impacting right where his mouth lay hard enough to make him fall on his side.

Whatever anger she felt dissipated as she looked down at him. He pulled off his mask and coughed, his lower lip split open and bleeding profusely, 'Oh no...I didn't mean-' She looked down at her right hand, feeling her guilt worsen at the flecks of blood that lined her white fingers.

His blood. Peter's blood.

He looked up at her, shock and pain clear on his face before he replaced it with a scowl, "...Guess I should have expected that..." He looked away, the blood continuing to drip on the snow covering the rooftop, "That's what it boils down to, isn't it? I can't be who you want me to be, we both know that. So just...just stay away from me. I'll find Octavius on my own, all you have to do is leave me alone."

"No...no...no! Leave me...alone!"

"I...I didn't mean to-"

"Don't you get it?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, "I'm not him. I'm not your friend, I'm not your victim, I'm not your second chance. I'm nothing to you. I'm not-"

"Peter, please-"

"I'm not your responsibility."

Responsibility...Peter's death was her fault, she'd always known it. She didn't need Jameson screaming at the airwaves towards anyone who'd listen, didn't need Aunt May pinning his death on her during a moment of weakness or her dad putting a gun to her head like she was a common criminal. If she'd done things better, if she hadn't...beaten him so severely, maybe there was a chance. Maybe they could have saved him like Harry and the others.

And now...now she was just trying to make-up for everything again, trying to grab for any second chance so she could try and erase her mistakes but ending up right where she started: Using her fists to try and make the problem go away.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but all that came was a soft, "I'm sorry..."

Peter...Spider-Man put his mask back on, stumbling to the edge of the roof and dropping from out of sight. She didn't know if he heard her, but even if he did she doubted he would care. Taking a deep breath, she jumped off the other side of the roof and let herself loose in a swing.

Gwen stared up blankly at the ceiling of her apartment, her headphones screaming a random rock song from her playlist loud enough to deafen most people. The entirety of the small flat was pitch black, a result of a power outage that affected her entire block. Maybe it was because of the snow, maybe they were doing maintenance, or maybe fate or destiny or life just decided she needed one last middle finger to end her day.

The song ended, an equally loud one taking its place a second later. Honestly she didn't know what she was doing, moping in the dark like an emo teenager, but she didn't know what else she could do. Talk to her dad? Out on a case. Cap? Not likely unless she wanted a repeat of their earlier talk about motivations. Rest of her friends? Well first she'd have to deal with the secret identity thing and she really wasn't in the mood to listen to MJ say 'told you so' for the next half hour.

Which left just staring up at the ceiling because the only other alternative left was trying to 'find herself', and she was honestly too tired to try and even begin attempting that.

Her eyes were beginning to close before she heard it: Slow knocking, almost impossible to hear over the din of the music. Pulling away her headphones, she stood up and padded over to the door. Did Betty forget her keys? Nah, she would have heard a lot more complaining and yelling if that happened. Wasn't a burglar either; her spider-sense didn't warn her and you had to be a pretty shitty thief to knock on the front door.

She twisted the lock and pulled only to find Spider-Man on the other side.

"...Spider-Man?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Hey..." He looked down at his feet, "I...is this a bad time?"

"Ah, no, but...what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, but...I-I just needed someone to talk to. It's..." He took a deep breath, "Sorry. I know this must be a bother, but you're one of the only people I can trust in this madhouse." He looked back at the dark stairway, "If...If I'm bothering you I'll leave, but...I'd really appreciate just talking to someone, try to get my mind off everything that's happened today."

She should have said something. He trusted her...but he hated her, too. It was...dirty, like the time before she'd revealed herself to her dad. You should tell him the truth, a part of her said. You should tell him to leave, another whispered. It would hurt less if she told him now, hurt less if she just turned him away and made an excuse of being tired and wanting to go to bed.

Instead, she said three words she was sure she was going to regret.

"Yeah...come in."

Done. Again give notes if you noticed any change because of following said bookisms, though likely not cause I'm very unaccustomed to changing things :/ Anyway, sorry if the last half turned really weepy; it's one of those 'it came to me as I was writing' moments and by the time I realized the giant shift in tone it was too late. The next chapter hopefully won't be as wangsty.

On the last bit: Some of you might complain about Gwen socking Noir in the face, but the segment does make clear it was an impulsive action. Her emotions were running high and Noir wasn't helping by pressing her buttons about 65-Peter and calling him a shithead. Ultimately I view it as neither of them being fully at fault, and I hope you guys can acknowledge that and don't think I'm trying to demonize one or the other.

Anyway, we're going to be going to Black Cat (with certain changes due to the S.H.I.E.L.D testing taking place first) next so not much in the way of divergent choices but I do have to ask something: Should I show Gwen and Noir's conversation in the next chapter now that the drama bomb's been dropped or just skip through it? If I do show it, whose POV would you guys prefer? Both Noir and Gwen have their own thoughts on the matter, though Gwen leans more towards character development while Noir leans more towards introspection.

Jony - Considering Harry screwed over six innocent people and tried to murder Spider-Woman, who he knows is mostly innocent, he's got no room to be throwing stones on Noir's actions. Also, answering your questions provided they aren't massively spoilery: Yes we'll see 65-Otto; It's been two weeks since he left, if you can trust his claims; I chose Oct because he was the only villain that remained standing by the end of the Noir run.

As for character appearances: Carol Danvers is no-go cause she's too strong,; Cho and Colson are possible since they work for S.H.I.E.L.D; Wade Wilson is redudnant because of Bullseye; and got no idea who Space Knight is so no go.

Master-Xavier - You're not the first one to think 'body merge', though I wonder why that is considering there are many possible explanations; beauty of comic books and all. Also, no thunderstorm since this takes place during winter and it's not the proper season for it...so I guess you partially made an ass of yourself :P

Depends. Noir's shown unmasking in front of people when he thinks he can trust them, most notably doing so in front of Felicia when she asks him in the end of the original miniseries run. We also see him partially unmask to Gwen in the previous chapter before Glory came in and he covered up again. He might trust Jessica enough to do so, especially given that his spider-sense would warn him if someone's untrustworthy...but of course since Gwen's immune he can't use that on her.

ggboyking - Again with that theory. Anyway, no power boost. Him being weaker than Gwen is one of his main differences, so no level ups for him.

Redentor - Guess you'll have to keep guessing cause they don't know. Either way it's more or less inert as proven in the chapter, so it shouldn't prove too much of a problem.

Esquire-Man - Well it was Eugene's origin story, so of course it'd be somewhat depressing. If you want happy we'll have to look at Kate Bishop or Howard the Duck since their stories tend to be more low-key and zany in comparison. Gwen's also cheerful for the most part, but her plot is getting darker due to being tangled into the S.I.L.K. debacle.

Krolikson - Most likely, yeah. It's pointed out that 616 can tell when someone's bluffing in poker (though this is inconsistent), so Noir would absolutely be able to tell if someone was trying to win a guessing game over him. It actually makes it hard to write intrigue and mystery because the second he talks to a guilty party he'd automatically know they're lying to him and call them out.

Mingyu - No big epic fight, sadly, mostly cause Noir's too pragmatic and knows when to fold em. Oh well, hope the chapter was nice regardless.