A/N: Here's chapter thirteen, guys... I'm sorry...
Disclaimer: If I owned Marvel, I wouldn't feel the need to torture you guys.
Thirteen
"At your service," MJ smirked and gave a bow, and he took in her appearance as she stood up.
She was wearing a black leather combat suit and jacket, combat boots, and a chain necklace. At her hip rested several vials of various mysterious substances, which Peter guessed were all different types of poison. Next to those was a sheathed dagger. On her thigh was strapped a pistol, and Peter counted at least fifteen other well-hidden weapons for various forms of murder.
He swallowed as he brought his eyes up to hers again, his spider sense tingling as his eyes froze for a moment on the HYDRA badge on her chest. With Ward, he almost expected it. With Ward, it didn't hurt as much, because they weren't close. But with MJ… she was one of his best friends. This hurt the most, and he didn't know what to do with all the pain.
"Why?" he croaked finally, his voice hoarse.
"Why, what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Be specific, Spiderman."
"Why would you kill so many innocent people?"
Her gaze grew hard and cold, and she scowled. Normally, the expression had Peter smiling along with Ned, because she was MJ and it was her look, but this time it sent uncomfortable shivers down his spine.
"Because," she shrugged nonchalantly, "S.H.I.E.L.D. is weak. Nick Fury has so much potential, so much power, and he wastes it by playing the part of a Good Samaritan. HYDRA takes the power we deserve, and we use it to our advantage. We do what S.H.I.E.L.D. is too weak- too good to do."
Peter pushed aside the gut-wrenching betrayal and scowled right back at her.
"HYDRA kills everyone that gets in their way and destroys everything that might be different," Peter growled, taking a step forward. "Remember how I mentioned Ross, and Daniel Whitehall?"
MJ rolled her eyes.
"Of course I remember," she scoffed. "Daniel Whitehall taught me himself before he died."
Peter felt the blood drain from his face when he heard those words.
"It's a shame, really," MJ continued, ignoring his horrified gaze. "He was a smart man. His ideals and his morals? Inspirational."
"This isn't the Michelle Jones I know," Peter whispered. "What happened to you? The MJ I was friends with was sarcastic and funny and compassionate and supported me no matter what-"
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe you weren't the only one putting on an act?" she interrupted, a glint in her eyes. "Did it ever even occur to you that maybe you aren't the only one with life-changing secrets?"
Peter swallowed and shook his head, not wanting to believe it despite all the evidence she was giving him.
"MJ, I don't want to fight you," he said, breathing heavily, his chest straining against the tight shirt he was wearing.
"You don't really have a choice," she said softly, as if she regretted everything she was about to do.
"But you do," he whispered, walking up to her and taking her by the shoulders, deciding that heck, he didn't care how stupid this idea was, she was his friend. "MJ, please," he pleaded, placing a gentle hand on her cheek, getting her to look him in the eyes. Something different sparked in them, and hope bloomed once more in his chest. "Don't do this," he continued. "I know there's still good in you, I can feel it."
She inhaled a small breath and stood up slightly on the tips of her toes, so their eyes were even.
"Peter…" she whispered, leaning in slightly, looking at him from under her thick lashes.
The back of his neck was pricking and tingling like mad, but he ignored it because he wanted to believe what he was seeing.
He smiled softly at her.
"Yeah?" he asked, hoping, believing that he'd gotten through to her.
She answered with a smirk and an evil glint in her eyes, and slowly the hope left him body.
His arms began to fall away from her, but before he could get away, he felt an excruciating pain in his abdomen.
He let out a choked gasp and stumbled away from her, his hand feeling the dagger sticking from his stomach.
She chuckled at his shocked, betrayed, broken expression, and she took a grappling hook from somewhere on her body and tossed it up into the vents.
She winked at him and gave him a small salute, ignoring the terrified yells of the Avengers above.
"Didn't see that coming," she asked, climbing swiftly up the rope, "did you?"
The last thing Peter saw, before everything went black, was her slender form disappearing into the vent shaft, taking his trust and part of his heart with him.
