Line In The Sand (Revised)

I apologize due to my injuries, I was having problems getting all my ideas out. Here is the full chapter, revised.

First off, apologies for not getting a new chapter published sooner. Short reason is that I work in protective services and let my guard down, and I got hurt. But on the fifth, I got to have the staples and stitches taken out, and I felt good enough to start writing again. I'm also bringing back a villain, an oldie but a goodie. So, apologies again, and please enjoy

-N

Wilson Fisk is many things, but he is above all else patient. He had placed the phone call with the person who he only knew by their title, Handler. Handler always had their voice mechanized and encrypted. The few times that he had tried to trace the phone number to put a face with the voice, and to give him an edge, he had always failed. The phone trace could bounce around the world for years, and he knew that he would never find them. So, he settled for just waiting. As part of the agreement, he had sent a payment of five million dollars, and was told to wait, that someone would arrive to assist him with the assignment. He just wasn't expecting him.

He had heard rumors that he was still alive, in some sense. That his death at the hands of his 'pets' was only a new beginning for him. Fisk had even heard that the damnable creature, Venom, had made sure that he was long gone, but with him standing in his private office, that was not the case. How he had managed to survive all the attempts on his so called 'life', was beyond him. All that mattered though, was that someone had finally arrived.

What he wore, to anyone else might have seemed strange. He had traded in his cloak and now wore a sealed suit, similar to an old diving suit. But as he approached, Fisk could hear the steady hum of what the outfit contained. Fisk gestured for him to sit, and the man complied. "Who do you want us to kill?" The buzzing hiss caught Fisk off guard, but he didn't show it. To him, the noise only confirmed that he was now working with the man he suspected.

"Fritz, Begrüßen(1), I trust your trip was a pleasant one?" He watched as the head tilted. Then the buzzing grew louder, and he realized that this was simply how the man laughed now.

"That man died years ago," he looked to the window. "Not even Mossad could find him now." Fisk nodded, he was right, his body was completely gone, they can't prosecute a spirit for war crimes could they.

"I suppose so," he murmured, reaching for the brandy glass near him. "In answer to your question, I don't need anyone dead," he leaned over his desk, and slide a manila folder towards the suited man. "But I do need a message sent."

The figure lifted the folder and flipped through it. "How much damage?" Fisk watched as the helmet turned to face him.

"Enough that they will be in pain, but not so much that they will require a trip to the hospital, just that they will need to be comforted and protected by the one's who care about them." The figure nodded, and rising, walked to the window. After opening the window, the figure looked out over the city, as if they were already searching for the target.

"It will be done, but I must return here after I have finished, and replenished anything that I lose." Fisk nodded, and watched as the figure raised a gloved hand to the front window of the helmet. With a hard twist, the glass swung open, and hundreds of bees flew out of the suit. The King Pin watched, fascinated, as the insects flew out of the suit, and it deflated itself to the ground. The insects held the form of a man, and spoke, the buzz now an unhindered roar, "I'll be back in three days at the most," it gestured to the crumpled container. "Protect that."

"One more thing," the form froze, and he was temporarily mesmerized by the cloud. "Make sure they know I sent you." The buzzing grew louder as the insects flew out the window, and Fisk heaved himself out of the chair, and closed the window. He watched as the cloud flew down into the city, and he shuddered. True, he feared nothing, no man, no creature, but the idea of Swarm, alive and intact, loose and working for him, did make him feel uneasy.

Peter was dreaming again, and again the voice had pulled him for a chat. "Peter, welcome back." It had been three days since he had been here before. The cave was the same, wet and dank, with the same fire. The figure hung back in the shadows, and seemed amused that he always tried to see them. "I told you before," he could see the figure raise their arm, pointing at him. "You will see me when the time is right, until then, let's just talk."

Peter shrank back down, and stared into the fire. "So, why are you here?" He heard its laugh, and the voice change to something feminine, almost to the tone of Felicia. The light from the flames glowed slightly brighter, and he came to the conclusion, that whatever he was talking to was definitely female.

"I have been here, like I told you before, for a long time. Why I'm here, is because I want to help you. I can give you the power and will that you have always lacked. I'm not just talking about will power, I mean true physical power." He didn't understand what it meant, but how it spoke had a familiar ring to it.

"I've had that kind of power before. I don't need another symbiote trying to drain me dry." He sneered towards the figure, and heard it give a howl of anger.

"I AM NOTHING LIKE THOSE LEECHES!" Peter could see the walls shake with its words. "I am only offering to help you, and you insult me, ME!" He watched as the figure walked away, and heard it, no her, yell back to him. "I will not speak to you until you are broken and desperate. Good luck when the moment first hits."

Peter sat up, shaking. She's Pissed, he thought. He felt a presence go through him, and he shuddered. She might not wish to speak with him, but that didn't stop him from feeling her wrath. He looked to his right, and saw Felicia sleeping soundly. He was glad. He didn't need her to see him so rattled. The last thing he would want is for her to worry about him. Laying back down, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. As his eyes grew heavy, he remembered the words she yelled to him. Good luck when the moment first hits.

Swarm had found the apartment easily enough. He was able to even get in, finding a half inch gap in the window. To any person, they would have been stopped, but he wasn't human, not anymore. He was a God he reminded himself. But, a God needs money to live like one, and to continue his research. He wouldn't be satisfied until he could control all insects. Then, he would truly be a God. After learning the layout of the room, he left one drone behind, a look out. When they returned, it would call to him, and he would strike.

Peter walked her home, it was something they had both come to enjoy. Sure, some days they would race over roof tops, and the loser became the winner's slave. Or some days they would just drive home, and civilly say good bye. But, like most nights, they would just walk, hands loosely linked. It was during these times, that they each felt normal. Content. "Penny for your thoughts?" Peter looked over to her, and gave her a grin.

"Just thinking about old dreams." She nodded, and they stopped for the traffic light to turn in their favor.

"Speaking of dreams, yours must have been a bad one." He turned to face her as they started walking again. "You woke me up last night," she gave him a smirk. "I didn't take you as the kind of guy who cuddled." He lifted his arm, and placed it around her shoulders.

"I can surprise you."

"You sure can," she reached up and adjusted the scarf she wore. The morning after he lost control, the bruising had been fierce. He was worried that she would have been angry. Instead, she went out for breakfast with her girlfriends, her neck naked, and returned telling him how jealous they were.

His fingers traced the outline wear the mark was, well aware that it was on its way to being a spectacular scar. "Sorry again."

She laughed at his words. "Don't be, just remember, paybacks a bitch." She stopped to face him. "I'm looking forward to putting my mark on you." He laughed, and they continued to the Mark in silence. When they arrived, she smiled, and gave him a small peck. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Not much," he lifted his hands to grasp her hair lightly, enjoying the texture. "Probably going to pull a shift at the Bugle." She nodded and walked towards the entrance, smiling at the doorman.

"I call you, maybe we can do lunch, we can invite MJ and her new guy." Peter stared at her, unsure what to say.

"Are you ready for her to know about us?" She simply nodded, and smiled. Any apprehension he had disappeared with her grin. I am so whipped. He nodded in feigned resignation, and enjoyed hearing her laugh.

"Okay drama queen," he watched her wave once more before entering, and he turned to leave. For once in my life, things are actually going as planned.

Peter sat at his desk, currently pawing through his photos, attempting to choose the best ones for the next publication. He was unsure of which one to choose, when his phone rang. He saw the number, and taking a breath, answered. "Hey MJ, how are you doing." He was surprised when he heard her laugh, and even more so when he heard a male voice with her.

"I'm doing fine, we're waiting at Mario's for you and Felicia, hasn't she called you yet?"

"No," he looked to the desk phone, and saw that there were no new messages.

"Don't worry Peter, I bet she just had a sudden urge to shop, you remember how she was." He nodded to himself, Felicia was prone to that, but not anymore, something didn't make since, and he needed to see her, now.

"Ya know what MJ, I just checked my messages, she's expecting me t pick her up, we'll be there soon." He heard her talking to the guy, from the sound of the voice, he figured that it was probably Eric. He smiled then, glad that she had found someone. She had needed someone who could always keep the promises that he made. He just wasn't it. "Hey Peter," he noticed her voice was a whisper then.

"Yeah?"

"Is Felicia, ya know, 'assisting' you after hours?" He groaned, but nodded.

"Yes." She laughed then, and a small part of him wondered if she was drunk or something.

"Well, I'm glad that you found someone who can keep up with you."

"Me too, see ya MJ."

"Bye." He hung up the phone and proceeded to call Felicia on her cell phone. When he got her voicemail, he was surprised. That phone is glued to her hip. He then called the Mark, and was surprised when they couldn't reach her on the room phone. When they asked if he wanted them to send someone to the room, Peter declined. He wanted to check himself.

After hanging up, he marched over to Jonah's office, and after wading through the smoke, found the man poured over his desk, staring at the magazine's layout. "What do you want Parker?" He growled, clenching the cigar in his teeth.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could punch out, Felicia and I had planned on taking lunch together." He apparently wasn't even worthy of eye contact, since Jonah simply nodded and pointed to his door. As the door closed though Peter heard him roar through the cloud.

"Just make sure to wrap it up!" Quickly striding past the awkward stares and stifled laughs, Peter was proud to make it out of the building without blushing too hard.

After returning home and changing, Peter quickly made it to the Felicia's penthouse door, and immediately panicked. He noticed that the glass on the patio door had been broken out, and he quietly slid the door open. When his mind didn't explode with warning Peter enter and saw the destruction. Everything had been thrown about or shattered. Hell of a fight. "Felicia!" He yelled, he ran to the bookcase and with one hand threw it against the opposite wall. "Felicia!" He couldn't find her, he ran to her room, and saw that the bed was ruined, torn apart and in shambles. "FELICIA!" He sank to his knees, where is she?

"Peter?" He heard the whimper, and ran to the closed bathroom door. He didn't even realize that he had taken the door off its hinges. He saw her in the bathtub. Her clothes were torn and bloody. Both of her eyes so bruised that they were yellow, the ruptured vessels giving her a bloody stare. As he reached her, she openly cried, and grabbed him. "It was horrible, there were so many." He held her, and rocked her back and forth in his arms.

"What happened?"

"He was waiting when I got home. My room filled with buzzing, and he starting throwing me against all the walled. He kept saying, 'Grüße von Herrn Fisk'(2)" She held up her hand, and he saw it was covered with red welts. "When I tried to hit him, my hand passed right through, and it felt like I had dipped it in boiling water." He nodded, and lifting her, carried her to the window.

"I'm taking you home with me." She nodded, and he dove out the window. He didn't care if people saw him. All that mattered what protecting the precious creature in his arms.

She was asleep in his bed when he closed the door. Once he had gotten her home, he had forced Benedryl down her throat, and smeared the cream over the glowing welts. She didn't look good, but he could tell she was just meant to hurt, not to be broken. When he got to the couch, he thought about what she said. The guy speaking German, and the welts, It had to be Swarm. How he was still alive, he didn't know. But he didn't know what to do.

He reached for his phone, and after dialing, gave a quick sigh, and attempted to be cheerful. "He MJ, sorry we missed lunch," again he could hear the laugh of Eric, he thought that maybe they were at her apartment.

"That's okay, did you guys have fun?" He heard the subtle hint she was giving, and chuckled into the phone.

"No, nothing like that," he looked to the bedroom door, again felt the sadness and hatred at himself, you couldn't keep her safe.

"Actually, Felicia isn't feeling to well, so we just stayed in."

"Oh," he was waiting for it, the girl was anything, but not apathetic. "Well, do you want us to come over, we can all cheer her up."

Yeah, so she can see how you failed. He pulled his face from the door, and turned the window. "Nah, she's sleeping right now. We'll catch up with you guys some other time."

"Okay, bye Peter."

"Bye." He hung up, and took his head in his hands. You failed her, how does that feel? He sat up, feeling her invade his mind. Do you still feel as if you don't need me? Tell me Peter, do you think you're strong enough to fix this? Does Spider-Man think he's powerful enough to seek vengeance? He heard her laugh, high and mocking, the insults ringing in his ears. Tell me, how do you feel now, hero? He felt the venom in her voice, heard her sarcastic tone. "Like I'm worthless," he paused, feeling the tears in his eyes. "Like when I lost Uncle Ben." His head was quiet then, no insults, no anger, no mocking, just silent. Then he heard it, you are broken, and in pain. Its time to talk.

"You're right, it was Swarm." He was back in the cave, and she was pacing. "Fisk knew how to get to you, and he was willing to call your bluff. We need to answer this." Peter nodded, but was unable to answer. "First off, we have to kill Swarm."

"How?" He found his voice, and it held no hate, only a sense of hopelessness. The figure stopped and looked at him.

"I know you are hurt, and so is she," the voice held compassion, and he was grateful. "But we have to protect her. Fisk drew the line in the sand with this attack, and we have to answer him. Like I said, first, we must destroy Swarm, and then we confront him."

Peter rose, and started to pace across from the voice. "So, how am I going to stop a living swarm of bees?"

"First off, we will stop him, not you alone, understood." Peter nodded and she continued. "Swarm has always been weaken by destroying his minions, but you have always left the queen his spirit possesses alive. This time, you have to kill it. Fire will destroy the queen, and his soul. He will finally be dead."

Peter nodded. He had never taken a life willingly, but now, that seemed acceptable. After what he did, its not just acceptable, its expected. He looked up, and she appeared to be studying him, then she nodded, as if she heard what he had thought. "So,' he cleared his head, trying to blank his mind. It was bad enough that he had a voice in his head, she didn't need to know everything he was thinking. "How do we find him?"

"I didn't notice any dead insects at Felicia's place," Peter raised an eyebrow, and she let out a huff of annoyance. "I see everything you see, and you were more concerned about Felicia than your surroundings. Not that that's a bad thing." She acknowledged his concern, and he was again grateful. "So, he will go for sugar, to feed his army. We will take him there, and then send our message to Fisk." He nodded, and she turned to walk away.

"Wait!" She stopped, turning to face him. "Can I see you now?"

"You're not ready yet." She continued to walk away, and Peter watched the cave start to fade. "But one of my names is Alpha."

Peter opened his eyes, and he was back on his couch. We have to go now, before he leaves town. Peter rose and went to his bedroom, after one last look at Felicia's battered face, he ran to the window and dove out, letting Alpha take control of him, to where they needed to go.

He wasn't even sure if his thoughts were human anymore. He had been dead for decades, and had long since stopped trying to act human. His thought's and the swarm's desires ran together now, and he no longer tried to separate them. The memories flew through their mind of the job they had just finished. How the girl had come home, and how she had tried to resist them. She had attempted to hurt them, but was unsuccessful. They had left her, beaten and bloody, as the man had asked. Now they needed to feed.

They found what they desired, sugar. It was the only vice that he and his swarm both agreed on. Sugar, in its purest form, or in anyway, just so long as they could have it. They had found it easily enough. Every human hive was filled with it. Soon, they would move on with their pay. Then they would have all the sugar they could want. Something was wrong. They could see their drones starting to fall. They would hit the ground, and try to fly, but fell to the ground dead. "What is happening to us?" They continued to watch, hearing their thoughts go out with their lives. Eventually, he was alone. Thousands of his drones, his warriors lay dead. Soon, he was down, unable to move, each twitch, every flutter, was agony. Then he saw it.

It slowly climbed down the wall, and terror joined his pain. The queen knew what it was, and she overpowered his thoughts. It was the devourer, he would feed on her, drain her dry, she would be no more. It stopped over her, its pincers gleaming in the light. It took them in its jaws, but didn't feed, they fell, and he was able to think again. "Spider-Man," he watched as he screwed the lid on, unable to move, just wanting the pain to stop. "How?"

He raised the jar to his eyes, surprised that it was still hurting him. Normally the stuff took a couple of days to become deadly to a swarm. That is why we used concentrated. "Borax dust, sucks doesn't it?" He watched as the insect tried to get up, but was still restrained by the dust, he chuckled as it was finally able to flap its wings. "I'm not going to kill you," he watched as it stopped moving. "Yet. We've got someone to see first."

It had been two days since Fisk had allowed Swarm free reign on his city. He was pleased with the results. His contact at the Mark had stated that Felicia had not been down from her penthouse since Swarm arrived. He could picture her lying on the floor, broken and beaten. It was good business calling Handler, he decided. His money was well spent, and the only thing that would make this better was if he could see the wall crawling menace's face when he found her. But, we can't always get what we want. He absentmindedly fingered the two rings that Swarm had recovered for him. An unexpected bonus that he was excited to receive. Turning, he watched his city, and panicked when he felt something hit him from behind. When he tried to rise, he noticed that he was frozen to the chair. He looked down, and noticed that he was again restrained by the cursed webbing of a hated freak.

Fisk was suddenly turned around, and he stared up into the blank eyes of the man. "Fisk," he growled. He was surprised. The man had again beat his security, and now had him at his mercy. "I found swarm," he reached into a bag the he carried, and held up a small glass jar. Inside, he could see a large bee trying in vain to escape. "This is all that's left of him, let me show you something." He pulled a set of pliers, a small surgical probe, and a butane lighter from the bag.

Carefully, he unscrewed the lid and extracted the insect. Holding it with the pliers, he lit the lighter, and slowly brought it closer to the struggling bee. As the flame drew closer, Fisk could hear a distinct voice being emitted by the struggling creature. "Bitte nicht! Lieber Gott BITTE NICHT DAS!(3)." As the flames engulfed the creature, its screams died away, and he dropped the smoldering bee onto his desk. Fisk looked up into the unreadable eyes, and was unable to suppress a shudder as the man reached for the probe.

"You hurt the woman I love," he held the probe in the flame, watching intently as it started to glow. "I consider that strike one." Satisfied, he dropped the lighter, and grasped Fisk's head, bring the glowing metal close to his right eye. "This is a reminder of that."

Unless one has ever been forced to suffer it, the truly unique sensation of your own body burning, combined with the smell your charred flesh, is indescribable. Fisk howled in pain as the probe was lifted from his cheek, and he glared at his tormentor. He watched as Spiderman collected his tools, and placed a small mirror in front of the King Pin. He jerked his head, forcing him to stare at the ugly black mark that now sat on the right side of his face. Fisk felt his head being jerked to the man beside him. "Remember, three strikes and you're out." He watched as Spider man strode to his window and smashed it open.

"You're a dead man," he growled, trying to escape his cocoon. He just watched as the figure turned to face him.

"Remember Fisk," he hissed. "Two strikes left," and dove out the window, leaving the King Pin to suffer alone and imprisoned.

Peter crawled into his window and found Felicia waiting for him on the couch. Wordlessly, he lifted her, and carried her back to his room. As he laid down on the bed, he gingerly lifted her onto his chest, and rocked her, silently willing her to sleep. AS she surrendered to sleep, Peter heard her voice. We did well tonight. He merely nodded, and was surprised. He didn't dream of caves and fires, or of torture and death threats, merely the love of the woman in his arms.

There you go, another chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. More will come, I promise. In regards to Swarm, bees bother the hell out of me, and I thought he was a villain sometimes forgotten. Reviews of all kinds are welcome.

Take it Easy

-N

Authors Notes:

1. Begrüßen: German for "Welcome"

2. Grüße von Herrn Fisk: German for "Greeting from Mr. Fisk"

3. Bitte nicht! Lieber Gott BITTE NICHT DAS!: German for "Please No! Dear God PLEASE NOT THAT!