Disclaimer: THIS STUFF AINT MINE K

Okay I'm sorry but I have to voice this just cuz it's driving me nuts: PLS PLS FOR MY SAKE THOSE OF U WHO WRITE SUCH NICE REVIEWS BUT DONT HAVE ACCOUNTS PLS GET THEM! This isn't me like endorsing this website or whatever it's literally because I like to say thank you personally for you guys being so nice bUT I CANT WHEN YOU'RE JUST A GUEST! AND THEN YOU ASK ME QUESTIONS AND I CANT FREAKIN ANSWER THEM AND I JUST AAAHHHH

...so yeah pls. I just want to say thank you. It stresses me out not being able to :)

I saw Deadpool the other day btw and it was actually really good :D I was not a fan all the *ehem* nudity (it was the 1st R-rated movie I've seen in theaters okay have mercy), but I mean, c'mon, it's Deadpool XD what was I expecting. But it actually had a great plot along with all the funnyness and breaky-the-4th-wallyness, which I appreciated. Highly recommend!

ANywho, here's another chapter. The first part I actually meant to tack on to the last chapter, but it was taking forever and I figured it was long enough as is. I think it'll clear up some confusion and I left hanging before. Enjoy hopefully :)

Chapter 18

Of all the rotten luck. Of course we had to escape exactly when and where Fatboy himself was popping in for a visit. Still, at least we got away.

Peter buoyed high above the rooftops on webs from his wrists in hopes that the fleetingly dark sky would camouflage the three of them from the world below. They'd caused enough ruckus for one night as is.

But I just—I feel so conflicted right now. Why did he look so smug while we were zipping away home-free? He just lost the "secret" part of his secret base as well as his most powerful pawn to an enemy he thought was dead! Shouldn't he be the one feeling defeated in this situation, and I victorious? Instead, everything seems so flip-flopped. I completed my mission, I saved my friend, and yet I still feel like I've lost the war. Why does it seem no matter what I do I can never win against that hunkering tub of blubber?

A few minutes later, Peter sprung off the wall of a skyscraper and landed sideways on Avengers Tower. He slid the special window open with his foot and quickly hopped inside. The room they entered was quiet and dark.

"Boy," Cat exclaimed, stretching her arms over her head as Spider-Man placed her on the floor. "Traveling via web sure is fun. I've always tried to imagine what it would be like, but that topped all my expectations. Well, minus there being another girl hanging off your shoulder besides moi."

Peter carried Wanda over to the bed in the corner and laid her on it delicately. She hadn't awoken all throughout their web-zip across the city, and felt as fragile as a flower in his arms. He hoped she was just wiped from all the excitement that had ensued over the past few hours, and that there wasn't anything majorly wrong with her. Slowly, he pulled the blankets up to her chin, then tucked a pillow carefully under her head. He decided he would check up on her more expediently later, but for now he thought it best to let her sleep.

Black Cat pulled off her Hydra helmet and glanced around the room inquisitively. "Phew, that's better. Cool place you got here. Do all you Avenger sorts get your own personalized floors like this?"

"Yeah. Perks of having a license to wear long underwear in public." Some essays he'd been writing for college applications were scattered on the floor at his feet, and he swept them hastily under the bed.

Cat sighed lightly. "Must be...nice, I suppose. Being on a team and all." She gazed at him levelly for a moment, fiddling with the helmet in her hands. Then she tossed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "Well, thanks for the adventure, spider. It was exciting to say the least, and fun, for the most part. Take care of your freaky witch friend, and let me know when you think of a plan to save all those girls. See yah 'round."

With a melancholy smile, she blew him a kiss and turned towards the window. He was going to just let her be on her merry way and that was that, but then he remembered something. Something she'd said, and something he felt responsible for. Before she could vanish into the city, he grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey, hold on a minute," he said, pulling her back inside. She stared at him with surprise, and he hesitated a moment before continuing. "Could I, uh...talk to you about something? Real quick?"

She examined him warily. Her eyes were narrowed a bit, though he couldn't tell if it was out of confusion or anger or both.

"I mean, sure, I guess," she finally replied.

"Great," he stated, glancing about. "Let's, uh, sit on the floor here."

He dragged her away from the window and sat down with his back to the wall. She followed him uncertainly, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"It's not dirty, I promise. Jarvis has little vacuum robots that run through here, like, twice a week."

"What the heck is this about?" she almost laughed, giving in and plopping down beside him. "You're being really weird, and I can't tell if it's cute or just...well, weird."

"Definitely just weird," he assured her, though he was feeling very uneasy all of a sudden. He stared down at his hands. "But I, uh," he stammered, then forced himself to look her in the eye, "I wanted to ask you about what happened before."

She blinked. "Before? Before what?"

"Before, in the stairwell. With those guys. Where you kinda...y'know, went berserk and all."

The playfulness in her expression rapidly faded, and he could tell she had grown tense. Her teeth gritted behind her lips, and he wondered if his boldness was going to reward him with more claw marks striping his flesh. She broke her gaze from his.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"I—I know," he concurred carefully. "Trust me, I'm no fan of discussing my problems with other people either. But...I think it can help, if the someone you tell is willing to listen." Unlike somebody I know, he remembered irritably, but cast the bitter thoughts aside.

"You sound like a bad psychiatrist," she growled, crossing her arms against her chest. "In any case, there's no point in telling you. It's not something you could understand."

"I have a fair share of my own confusing problems," he admitted. "I get these...night terrors. Recently, they've been happening almost every time I fall asleep. Sometimes I get them even when I'm awake. The hardest part is that everyone thinks I've lost my mind, and I'm starting to believe them." He realized suddenly that since he'd put on the symbiote suit, he hadn't had any horrifying visions. Then again, he hadn't slept since he'd put it on, either.

She frowned a little and turned to him. "Is that what happened when you were fighting me on the roof?" she asked. "When I stole the necklace, and you punched me in the face?"

Peter chuckled nervously. "Y-yeah, heh. Sorry about that."

She smiled a little and shrugged. "Well, we were fighting. It's not like you just punched me out of nowhere."

"I didn't see you as yourself, though," he explained quietly, swallowing. "I saw you as a monster. A monster...trying to kill me."

Black Cat's eyes softened. Even though Peter was staring at the floor, he could feel her dulcet gaze combing over his face. After a moment of silence, she shattered the barrier with a shallow sigh.

"I don't think I can relate much. What happened to me...happened a long time ago."

Spider-Man turned to her expectantly, too afraid to say anything that might deter her from continuing. Cat pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

"Then again, I suppose it wasn't too long ago. It just feels that way. I worked so hard after it happened, those times seemed like ages."

"Worked hard at what?" he ventured cautiously.

"Training. Getting stronger. Learning how to defend myself, but more than that. I wanted to be able to get anything I wanted, from anybody I wanted, just like he was able to do to me. I didn't want to be the victim anymore. I trained so I could never feel helpless again, but instead make my enemies feel that way."

Listening attentively, it didn't take Peter long to gather what had happened to her. He had assumed something as such since her little freak-out beneath the lighthouse, but what she was saying now confirmed his suspicions. He watched her bite nervously at the inside of her cheek.

"My dad was and still is my greatest inspiration. He's probably the reason I was able to bounce back from everything so quickly. He helped train me, when Mom wasn't around to see." She snorted under her breath. "Daddy was a very resolute man. When I told him I wanted to be a cheerleader because I liked basketball, he said: 'If you like basketball, play basketball. And play it well, while you're at it.' He firmly believed you should never sell yourself short of what you're capable of, and that you could be whatever you worked hard enough to become. He believed in me...more than I believed in myself. I like to hope that he still does.

"When he was arrested, and I found out about his secret second life as New York's most notorious cat burglar, I was struck with a mixture of grief and determination. From then on, I trained myself to follow in his footsteps. I dedicated my life to the art of battle and thievery. I promised him I would bust him out, whatever it took. And that's how I've ended up where I am today, three years later, with a half million bounty on my head and my feet tangled in all this Hydra mess." Closing her eyes, Black Cat wrapped her arms around her knees, bleach white hair falling around her fragile form. "As for the thing with those two men...I don't really know. Something just...snapped inside me. I haven't lost a fight like that in such a long time. They were able to subdue me so easily, and that was really scary. I felt powerless, pathetic, vulnerable. And...the things they were saying, the way they approached me, their body language. All of it reminded me of him."

Peter watched the tears begin to gather in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall this time. They brimmed along her lashes and caught the light of the rising sun, giving her bright blue irises a heartbreaking sparkle. "I didn't really mean what I said. About men. But at the same time, I kinda did. I just don't feel like there's a single one out there I can trust anymore, besides my dad."

Her breaths were forcibly slow, but shook every now and then with an unspeakable pain. Sighing solemnly, Spider-Man folded his hands in his lap.

"Well, you can trust me," he said earnestly.

She leaned her head against the wall and exhaled lightly. Then she opened her eyes and gazed into Spider-Man's mysterious white lenses, smiling tiredly. "I know, spider. I'm sorry, for everything." After running her hands under her mask, she let her arms fall to her sides. "Thank you. I—I needed this. I suppose you were right. I've never talked with anyone about it before. It felt...nice."

"No prob," he assured her. "That all sounds really sad. I'm sorry for what I said about you before. I didn't know." Then a poignant uncertainty came over him. "But, uh...there's something I've gotta ask. Something I still don't get. If you...okay, this might sound kind of rude, but I don't mean it to be, I'm just trying to understand." She cocked her head to the side in confusion, and he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "If you, y'know, were hurt by some dude, and now you don't like men very much...then why are you so flirty all the time? With me, and every other guy you meet? Isn't that a bit...I dunno...counterintuitive?"

Black Cat held his gaze for a moment, then stared down at her knees, as if in thought. She licked her lips. "Well, I...I guess it's because I'm trying to bring out what I know is already inside them," she finally responded, blinking. "After what happened, I just assume that they all see me the same way he did. So instead of waiting for them to show it, I try to draw it out of them myself, as fast as possible. That way, I can just beat them up already, have a reason to make them suffer, then move on." Her brow knitted together. "I like to make them think I'm just some ditzy girl they can take advantage of, then throw it all right back in their face. I love to make them feel the same fear and pain they inflict. And in a way, I feel like I'm helping protect future victims from being hurt by them." Then she shrugged and scoffed. "But in truth, I don't really care about that. I do it just for the thrill of deceiving and manipulating people. It makes me feel powerful. It helps me project a confidence and superiority far beyond what I truly possess. And...it shields me. The real me, the terrified me, from ever being exposed."

As Cat rubbed distractedly at her shins, something crazy suddenly dawned on Peter. She was just like him, he realized. Exactly like him. Veiling her true emotions behind a theatrical mask. Fooling the world to believe in this character she had made herself into. She was hiding, but instead of using clever, spontaneous quips, she tricked her peers through flirtation and seductive charm. He was surprised he hadn't figured it out for himself by now. He felt a comfort in that strange commonality.

"Huh. Never considered using that strategy. Maybe next time I'm going toe-to-toe with the likes of Doc Ock or the Rhino, I'll try pecking them on the cheek and see how that works out for me."

Black Cat chuckled softly. "Well, considering how things went back in the tunnel, I guess it can backfire, when I overestimate my strength."

Peter pondered for a moment what it must feel like to be a self-made hero. Someone whose capacity to defend others and protect themselves depended solely on the grinding work they'd put into honing their skills, with no assistance from radioactive spider bites. It must be scary. He imagined how restless it would make him. Constantly, he would wonder if he had trained hard enough, if he had reached his maximum potential, or if the strength he had built was going to fail him. It sounded painstaking. The idea alone troubled him, and made him feel a sudden reverence for Hawkeye, Black Widow, and the woman sitting beside him. He knew if he hadn't gone on that momentous field trip to Oscorp and hadn't acquired supernatural abilities, wimpy Peter Parker would never have pursued becoming a hero.

"It's alright. Getting knocked on your butt is good every now and then. It happens to the best of us, and keeps you from fostering an ego."

"The best of us?" she scoffed, leaning her head on his shoulder with a laugh. "Oh, spider. It's so cute how you keep trying to lump me in with all the rest of you strapping hero-types. I told you before: that just isn't me."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. Sooner or later, you'll see things how me and Wanda and everyone else you've helped see them. You're a good person, Cat."

"Tell that to all the people I've robbed," she retorted, her words lighthearted but at the same time bitter. "All the folks, innocent or not, that I've stolen from, and hurt, and will continue to steal from and hurt after I leave here." Her eyes flickered to the floor, dim with shame and fear. "I can't be that person, spider. Not now, for you, or her, or anybody. Not as long as Fisk is around. Because even...even if for some reason I wanted to be; until Fisk is gone, I can never be that person. I'm a prisoner to his malevolent will."

Spider-Man sat at her side in silence, rubbing at the spot on his arm where he'd been nicked by a passing bullet, weighing how to respond. Then he lifted his hand off the wound, and the black film stretched over it began to retreat back, starting at his fingertips. The symbiote crawled down his knuckles and palm until his whole hand was exposed to his wrist, and after removing the red glove that was hidden underneath, he laid his palm comfortingly on top of her own.

"I'm going to stop him, Cat. I told you that before, and I'll say it again now. I am not going to let Fisk and Hydra feed off people's fear and ruin people's lives to further their schemes. Not anymore. Not here, in my city, against my people. I'm going to defeat him, and I'm going to end Hydra, once and for all. I promise I will. Okay?"

She held his gaze dubiously for a moment, then sighed with amusement. "Ambitious one, aren't you? That's a lot to put on just yourself, darling. I would think by now you'd understand how grand an adversary The Kingpin is, and how hard it would be for you to take him down alone." Lifting off the wall, Cat climbed to her feet and offered Spider-Man her hand. "Defeating Big-Bad doesn't have to be a solo act you know. You have others you can count on for help."

Blinking in vague surprise, Peter hesitated before taking her hand and letting her help him stand. There was still a ring of red around her throat, and a purple splotch marked her lips where she had been slugged in the face, but the injuries didn't seem to slow her down.

"Well, it sure doesn't feel like it," he refuted her quietly. "I...I don't feel like my team backs me anymore. It feels as if they've...like, disowned me. Everything I've attempted to tell them, everything I've tried to warn them about—they just won't believe it. They only see the big picture—the stuff on the news, the public affairs, the flagrant attacks meant to lure and distract them—and refuse to acknowledge the real war going on, underground, out of sight. They don't see what I see, and I don't think I can ever make them. They don't trust me. I just...I can't. My team doesn't trust me, so how can I trust them? It has to be me, and only me. I've got to do this alone."

"That wasn't really what I meant," she chuckled softly. "I don't know if you realize this, but the Avengers aren't the only ones out there willing to help you, and perhaps not even the best suited. You should try expanding beyond them. After all, you managed to convince a dastardly supervillain to help you save your friend. I know you can find others, and persuade them likewise."

Spider-Man was a bit taken back by her suggestion. He'd never considered asking anyone beyond his super-secret boy-band posse to aid him in this heroic endeavor, and frankly wasn't sure what he would even ask them to do. He had already gotten the trivial obstacles out of the way now that the 'black monster' was not an issue and Wanda was safe. All that remained in this fight was down to him to overcome.

"I, uh, I guess so. I'll think about it."

"Good," she smiled contently. Then Cat released his hand and turned back to the window, pulling her black costume out of her pocket and slipping the Hydra jacket off her shoulders. Peter had enough sense this time to look away before she stripped naked right in front of him, though he could still feel his face burn a little beneath his mask.

"You know, now that you've told me you only flirt with guys to expose their evil and weakness or whatever, I've gotta ask: has, uh, has all this just been you playing your little game with me? You know...all the kissing and teasing and weird stuff like that?"

Immediately he regretted letting the words leave his lips. Now back in her black skin-suit, Cat turned towards him quickly, a smile spreading across her face.

"Why, does that bother you? Would it hurt little Spidey's feelings if I said yes?"

"N-no, wait, that's not what I—"

"Aww, spider! After all this time, you're finally admitting it. You've got a crush on me." She stepped towards him and hugged him around the middle, nuzzling her head into his neck. "I knew you'd realize it, sooner or later."

Peter was struggling to swallow his embarrassment. "You know that's not what I meant. I just thought...I want to know why. This whole time, since we met, have you been acting like this in hopes that I would be like those two assholes who attacked you?"

Her playful grin dropped at his words, and she stared up at him with puzzled eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you said that you flirt with guys so they'll be all gross and you can beat the crap out of them. Is that what you wanted to happen to me? Did you want me to—oh gosh, how do I put this—come up on you like they did? If that...if that makes any sense. I'm just trying to understand."

Black Cat held his gaze for a moment, looking cold and thoughtful. He noticed now that her cheeks were hinting red, as if his question had likewise incited embarrassment from her. Then he felt her hands fall from his back, and her eyes drifted to the floor.

"Wow. I hadn't really thought about it like that, until now. I...I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he stammered. "For what?"

"I guess...I didn't want to believe that anyone could be as nice you were to me," she explained ashamedly. "I—I've always hated things like you, things so good and irreproachable. I hate purity, because it hardly ever turns out to be genuine. Exposing people's fake virtue and revealing their innermost corruption is what I do best, and it makes me happy, because then no one can be called superior to my own...well, broken goodness." Her eyes then flitted up to meet his. "But then I met you. And I couldn't...nothing I did would break you. And it wasn't because you weren't attracted to me—'cause trust me, I know when a guy is. It was because you saw me for more than that. You...you knew there was more to me than that, even if I tried to make it seem like there wasn't. And that's why you're so damn frustrating."

There was a pause. Peter was partially stunned by her reply, and was struggling to decide if it was a compliment or not. But as he stood there, pondering in silence, Black Cat's solemn expression switched to a mischievous smile. She took his hands in hers.

"And just so you know: yes, there was a part of me doing it just because I like you. You're adorable, super fun to mess with, and probably the sweetest, most sincere person I've ever met. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I have feelings for you." Her smile wavered a little. "But...I know it's been in vain. I've always known. I can see it in you, spider. A woman can always tell. You do care about me, but not like that. Your heart already belongs to someone else. Utterly, and unconditionally." She scoffed quietly. "I almost feel bad for you, darling. She's got you wrapped like duct tape around her little finger. Must be one special girl."

Peter brightened in surprise, but felt his face go red beneath his mask. Gwen. "Oh...uh, yeah. I, um, sorry. My girlfriend, heh, she's—she's just so—"

"I know," she giggled. "It's okay. I admire that in you." Then she kissed him on the cheek. "But that doesn't mean I'll make it easy for you two. If she wants to keep a guy as good as you all to herself, she better have to fight for it."

Spider-Man blinked dazedly, not knowing how he should react, and Black Cat laughed before turning back to the window. With careful movements, she pulled herself up the glass and stepped on to the skinny ledge, balancing high above the dizzying drop to the world below. Seeing her stand there jogged him from his thoughts, and he held up his hand.

"H-hey, wait. Cat?"

Still smirking, she looked at him over her shoulder. "Yes, spider?"

After a moment, a careful smile pulled at his lips. "You're right. About her and I. But I do care about you, Cat. So is there any chance that we can...that you and I...that we can be friends?"

There was no hesitance this time. Immediately following his question, Black Cat straight burst out laughing, loudly and authentically, so much so that she had to grab on to wall to keep from tumbling out the window. Peter thought at first she was mocking him, until finally she managed to gather herself, and she grinned up at him with unquestionable sincerity.

"You are too cute for your own good," she replied, stifling a few more giggles. "Yes, Spider-Man. We can be friends. Friends, pals, bros, whatever the kids are calling it these days; I'd be thrilled to consider you that."

Peter smiled jubilantly. "Thanks. That means a lot to me."

Expending a few more chuckles, Black Cat swung her legs over the ledge and hung off the side of the building by her fingertips. She snagged a grappling hook from her hip, fired it at the tower to her left, and gave the cord a few sharp tugs until she trusted its integrity. Before letting go, however, she bit her lip, then hoisted herself back up to where she could see Spider-Man's monochromatic form.

"Hey swinger?" she called, resting her chin on her hand. "One more thing. About this girl—the one you're fallen for? Just...be careful. Take care of her. If she's not like us, if she can't defend herself from the scourges of this city, you've got to protect her. You saw all those girls, what he's done to them. Demons like Fisk—they will use whoever they can to get to you. Please don't let her get caught in the middle. For both of your sakes."

Feeling a tinge of fear crawl into his throat, Peter nodded earnestly. Sighing, then throwing him a wink, Cat dangled off the ledge, kicked off the wall, then dropped rapidly before the grappling hook caught her weight, and she swung far to the right. Spider-Man leaned out of the window to watch her go, impressed by her reckless courage. As she flew, he heard her yell "Catch you later, darling!" into the open air. Then she dropped between two buildings, freed her grappling hook, and rolled into the darkness, out of sight. The world seemed very quiet after she was gone, despite the droll of early morning traffic bubbling from below. Citrus light from the rising sun reflected off the glass of neighboring towers, making the city around him appear gilded with gold. Spider-Man exhaled softly, gazing across the urban skyline, then ducked back inside, sliding the window shut behind him.

It hadn't dawned on Peter how utterly exhausted he was until that moment. Exhausted, and hungry. Holy crap, was he hungry. When was the last time he ate? Considering the moans crying from his stomach that suddenly became apparent to him, it felt like ages. Good gravy, it was as if all the energy was being sapped from his body. Intoxicated by hunger, Peter stumbled to the mini fridge across the room and popped it open. Nothing but a couple cans of root beer, some pizza slices in a baggie, and a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies. Wasn't exactly the junk food buffet he was craving, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He ate everything in about five minutes. He was still hungry afterwards, but he was too tired to go scavenging for anything else. He wondered where the Avengers were at that moment, but then decided he didn't care. He would figure everything out after he had gotten some shut-eye. He turned the couch so that it was facing where Wanda slept, then flopped down on it with a heavy sigh. He waited for sleep to claim him.

But sleep wouldn't come. Peter opened his eyes behind his black mask. He lied still for a moment, then lifted his palm in front of his face, which was still absent of the dark symbiote. His brow narrowed. Cover it, he thought, and immediately the slime spread over his hand, leaving no flesh exposed. For the first time, the movement startled him. He hadn't considered how odd it was that he was wearing a living organism that could read his mind and obey his commands until now. Slowly he let his hand fall to his side, and he gazed up at the ceiling set far above his head.

He remembered, back in that weird, trippy dream, the black creature speaking to him. Fluently, intelligently, like a human being. It talked of being frustrated, being weak. So far, since he had put it on, it had only said two things. Peter Parker. Spider-Man. That was when it had first covered him. It hadn't spoken a word since.

He laid in silence for a while, grasping for sleep, breathing levelly, but eventually caved. He opened his eyes again.

"...Hello?"

Nothing. No response.

He swallowed. "I...I know you can hear me. Understand me, too."

No response.

"You can talk. You did it before. Why aren't you doing it now?"

No response. He felt like he was talking to a wall. He sighed irritably.

"You've obeyed my every command. Well, obey me now by answering this question. What are you?"

A pause. Silence. Peter was ready to give up.

"I am you."

He went stiff. The voice was clear as day, unmistakeable. He wasn't sure whether it was spoken aloud or just inside his head. He took a moment to settle himself.

"So now you talk. Are you like Ella Enchanted or something, where you do whatever I say only when you're told directly?"

"No. I've just been...waiting. I didn't want to startle you."

Peter forced his anxious mind to settle. His spidey sense was not being triggered.

"What do you mean, 'I am you'? I remember telling you this before. That's not true. I'm me. You're a black slime monster."

"No," the symbiote retorted. "Well, not anymore, anyway. Alone, separated, yes. But together, symbiote and host, we are one. Therefore, I am you. You are me. We are us."

Peter grimaced. "'Host'? I don't like the sound of that. Makes it sound as if you're feeding off me, like some kind of parasite."

There was a pause, as if the black ooze was thinking. "You do sustain me, but I do not harm you. Rather, I provide you with whatever it is you desire."

This was beginning to sound sketchy. Still a bit shaken by the fact that he was talking to his costume like that was a normal thing, Spider-Man glared up at the ceiling. He could feel the symbiote gliding fluidly against his body.

"How could you know what I want?"

"I am you. Do you not understand? Your desires are my desires. Why do you think I listen to you so zealously, obey your every thought? Because we want the same things."

"And what exactly do you think I want?"

A long silence followed before the unnerving voice returned. "I think...you want power," it finally replied. "Power to protect people. Those you care about, the innocent, the hurting. You want the power to save them, like that father and his children from the fire." The symbiote's movement suddenly shifted directions. "But not only that. You want the power to stop the men who are causing the pain. You want to be able to take them down before they destroy the city and the people you love. You want power because you know that even with all the strength you have now as Spider-Man, it may not be enough. You're afraid that you'll be beaten again as the Sinister Six beat you before, and that Fisk and Hydra will be too much for you to handle. You're afraid of letting everyone down, especially your team, whom you feel severed from, whom you want to prove wrong about all that you're capable of as a person and a hero."

It was absolutely bizarre. It was like he was thinking to himself—the symbiote even talked in his voice—except every idea formed in his head was crisp and deliberate. It was like his conscience was speaking directly to him, telling him all the hidden truths of his mind, even if they weren't what he wanted to hear. Peter opened his mouth, closed it, then waited a moment before summoning a response.

"So...that's why you're here? To help make me stronger? Not to eat me or drive me insane or whatever the hell Fisk wanted you to do?"

"I was Fisk's prisoner, just as your friend was. I hate him as you hate him. All the hosts he tried to bond me with angered me, because they were not you, not of my blood. But now that I have bonded to you, my true home, my purpose is clear. All I want is to do your bidding, make you stronger, make us whole again."

"You aren't planning on attacking me, like you did after that cross-species death concoction nearly killed me?"

"I was reckless back then. Naive, starving, desperate for a host. I've grown while away from your presence. I know now what we must be: bound harmoniously, existing as one mind, body, and flesh. Therefore, no, what happened before will not happen again. For Peter Parker we have learned vigilance, understanding, and patience."

The room seemed vacant of life besides the two of them. The only thing punctuating the otherworldliness was the sound of steady breaths coming from the opposite corner where Wanda rested. After mulling this over for a moment, Spider-Man lifted his hand in front of his face again, willing the black slime to crawl down his palm. The pale, vulnerable skin seemed almost naked without it.

"You say I want power. What exactly kind of power are you offering me? Enough to defeat The Kingpin?"

"Enough to conquer whatever adversary you seek to overcome," the symbiote replied. "And the kind that has no limitations. We can be whatever you want us to be. Armor, weapon, disguise, tool, extension of your very being. The magnitude of power we wish to possess rests solely in your willingness to wield it."

Peter felt he should be wary. The power this thing was talking about sounded ridiculous, unimaginable, yet incredibly dangerous if it were real. But for some reason, he wasn't afraid. And for some reason, he believed that the power existed. He could feel it: saturating his muscles, racing through his veins. He could feel it through the suit; a versatile enhancement to his already gifted flesh. The symbiote could do anything for him, whether it be giving him the strength to hold up a building or helping him pick a lock to save he and his friends from certain death. It was an invaluable asset. In that moment, uncertainty gripped him no longer. He needed the power it gave him to keep everyone safe, to defeat the enemies that sought to hurt his people, and to put to shame all who doubted Spider-Man's strength. The black suit needed him, and he needed the black suit. It couldn't be a more symbiotic relationship.

"So...I can trust you?"

He swore he heard the slimy creature laugh. "The real question you should be asking is, can you trust yourself? If we can trust ourself, then we can trust us."

Peter thought this over for a while, watching the pinkish sunlight stretch across the ceiling. Then he willed the inky substance to spread back over his hand, and he gave a small nod. "Alright, symby. You can stay with Spidey for now. At least until the Kingpin has had his whale-ass handed to him on a barge-sized platter."

The symbiote stirred happily. "We are pleased with our decision. Now, from here on, our thoughts will be the same. No longer will we operate as separate beings, but as a single life form. We exist as one entity, one Peter Parker. We're sorry to say that we will not converse like this again. But whenever our power is needed, we will be summoned."

Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the voice in his head went silent. Or...had it? He couldn't exactly tell. It sounded almost exactly like the voice of his own mind. The two were startlingly difficult to distinguish between. For a moment, he questioned whether the entire conversation he'd just had was real at all, or just another figment of his jacked-up imagination. He dispelled the notion instantly, however. He refused to believe it was a fabrication. After all, the horrendous visions that had afflicted him so frequently before had yet to return since he had acquired the symbiote. Strangely enough, it felt like the suit had liberated his mind from them. No longer did he feel the damaging images lurking behind his eyes; rather, his head felt clear and fixated on reality. Had the black slime somehow driven the crippling anxiety and paranoia away?

He supposed there was only one way to find out. The exhaustion had settled back over him like a heavy blanket, and he felt himself yawn widely. With a sigh, he rolled on to his side and huddled close to the cushions, letting his eyelids slip shut. It was morning for the rest of the city, but not for Peter Parker. He'd spent the past week predominantly a nocturnal nightcrawler, with little to no sleep in between thanks to the haunting nightmares. Now, he hoped, was finally his time to be granted rest. Warmed by the symbiote bound to his skin, it wasn't long before he fell into a cold slumber. At last, the two figures—the Scarlet Witch and Spider-Man—filled the massive tower with the subtle sounds of grateful sleep.

"How dare he treat us like this! Like some kind of—some kind of—expendable slaves!"

"We're sunk. It's over. What's the point of even trying anymore?"

"Gah! I'm gonna knock his bald head clean off his shoulders!"

"What do we do now? Honestly, what do we do? I'm going to lose my inventions, my research, everything I've worked so hard for! Oh gosh, what are we going to do?"

A loud clang suddenly jolted the men from their frenzied chatter, echoing off the metal walls of the large depository. The three-pronged claw that had caused the noise then lifted off the ground and flitted to the left in a dismissive manner. "Thank you, sir, for bearing such glad tidings. You may leave us now."

Sweating bullets, the Hydra messenger swallowed and nodded briskly before spinning on his heels towards the exit. The door rattled shut after he had left the warehouse.

"'Glad tidings'?" Adrian Toomes snapped at him crossly. "How the hell could those be considered 'glad tidings'? You heard the kid; we've been axed! Dumped, discarded, severed from Hydra. All of our resources are gone."

"Our medics! The engineers! They won't be around to fix us up and repair our equipment anymore!"

"Not to mention we're no longer protected by the Big Man's police. What do yah bet they're headed this way to throw us in the slammer right now?"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please," Octavius interrupted calmly, suspending himself high on his four robotic tentacles. "You are all being far too dramatic. Can't you see how fortunate this news is?"

"Not really, Doc," Electro muttered, flexing his fingers inside the rubbery gloves. "If it wasn't for Hydra's scientists gathering me up and making me this suit, I'd probably still be scattered through the subway in a million little pieces. What are we going to do without them?"

"What are we going to do?" Octavius exclaimed mockingly. "Why, everything. Anything and everything we want! Don't you understand? All of you! We're free of that cursed man's control!" He whirled on the rest of the group, causing them to flinch. "You idiots! You cowards! Quit groveling over the luxuries we've lost and seize the opportunity we've gained!"

"And what is this grand opportunity that you speak of?" Quentin inquired uncertainly, polishing his cracked globe helmet. Octavius laughed out loud.

"Which do you think?" he scoffed. "The opportunity to do exactly as we planned. To complete the mission that overbearing deadweight cheated us out of! We band together, all of us, and use what we've created to show this city—this world—what real power is! Every threat that dares oppose us—police, armies, costumed morons, even Hydra—presents no contest! Not when we combine our strength and follow our own agenda, free of the Big Man's interference."

"Wow. You seriously think we can do that?" Shultz chuckled dubiously. "Now, when we're all sunk to our lowest point? Yah must be outta yer' mind, sonny."

"And you all must be spineless worms," Octavius retorted, slamming a tentacle hard against the concrete. "The Big Man weighed us down, prevented each of us from reaching our maximum potentials. He kept us from killing Spider-Man, and instead claimed that honor for himself. He doesn't want anyone surpassing him in strength, in superiority, in image, and that, my friends, is the fatal flaw we must exploit. We deserve to exploit."

The five men standing before him held the strange gaze warily, exchanging puzzled looks between them. But at the same time, an ember was igniting. An excitement, a rage, a purpose that needed to be fulfilled. Toomes stepped forward.

"But how? How can we—with our broken weapons, and no means to repair them—overcome our enemies? Overpower the Avengers, Hydra, everyone?"

Octavius chuckled. "I am the most gifted scientist on the planet. I will find a way to fix your equipment with what we have, or with what we can pillage discreetly. One way or another, I am going to make all of you more powerful than you ever were beneath that pitiful terrorist group. More than just your firepower, your brute strength, I will lead all of you as the greatest team of super beings to ever walk this earth. It is our minds that the world will grow to truly respect, and truly fear." His fiery gaze swept across the faces of his comrades, which had procured a newfound thirst for blood. "Will you follow me, gentlemen? And will you choose to reap the treasure that we, the Sinister Six, can and will unearth from those undeserving of it?"

The response was mutual and passionate. Doubt clouded their minds no longer as all at once, they agreed. Grinning widely, the eight-limbed scientist turned to the back of the warehouse. He typed a code into a small panel, and with a squeal of protest, the wall lifted upwards, revealing a dark, grisly workshop behind it. The room reeked of chemicals, oil, and potential waiting to be met. Brimming with eagerness, Octavius stepped inside.

"Then follow me, everyone. We've got work to do."

Yay evil. Sorry if these are taking me a while to write. I'm getting a little brother soon cuz my family's adopting so I've been spending lots of time prepping for that! I met him just this weekend for the first time and was very happy when he said he liked Spider-Man too! (Though really, pre-teen boy, probably the more appropriate fan age than 18-year-old girl XD) WHATEVER! But I'll keep trying to crank these chappies out, because the story's just getting interesting! See ya'll later! NGAAAAAAAH! (I know at least one of u out there is getting these references ;) )