Break In

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Peter has no idea what was going happen to him. He was pretending to follow Nat and Swivilla's every word until he could determine whether or not Natasha was actually working for her. He had asked what he had thought we're inconspicuous questions, but every time she had looked shrewdly at him, so he stopped. He had forgotten how smart she was, how lethal, because she was always so kind to him.

"Peter," Swivilla snapped him out of his thoughts, "Were you-?"

He knew she was going to ask if he had been paying attention, but she never got the chance to. An alarm went off, blaring and flashing.

"What?" Swivilla let out a string of curses. "Why would the fool break in now? He must not know that you're pretending to be under our control."

Peter froze. Pretending? Swivilla practically cackled.

"Oh yes, I know," she crooned, "Ms. Romonaff was kind enough to inform me that you were only faking being subservient. Let us administer this-"

Peter struggled, but somehow Nat was there and she was holding him back and how could she have betrayed him and why was the alarm still going off and -

A wave of blankness spread over him as he lost control of his muscles.

"Peter?" Swivilla's voice swam into his head.

"I am yours to command," Not-Peter responsed. Peter wanted to scream.

"Stark has attacked the compound," Swivilla said, "Destroy him. God knows he won't be able to destroy you."

Peter tried to resist but, with a start, he realized that Swivilla had been weakening him so that when she re-administered the serum he wouldn't be able to fight it. He was helpless as his body carried him away.

The breach was in the main room - why had he targeted the main room? - and he was blasting everyone in sight.

"Hello, Mr. Stark," the words coming out of his mouth were alien, "I'm afraid your time is up now."

That was it. No preamble, no pretend. Not-Peter grabbed the suit from where it was hanging and donned it with Peter's skill. Tony didn't even attempt to shoot him. Not-Peter shot three webs in his direction, which Tony barely managed to duck. He shot a blaster at him, missing by a millimeter. Peter knew that that had been a warning shot, but that Mr. Stark would never carry out on that threat.

"You are never touching my kid," Tony ground out, and Peter could sense Swivilla just behind him.

"Oh, it's too late, Mr. Stark," she whispered just loud enough to be heard.

"Is it?" He asked, then held up a syringe in his left hand. It looked minuscule compared to his battered red and gold armor plated fist, but it held more meaning then a bomb would.

"Get that," Swivilla spit. Not-Peter swung into motion. Webs were shot, blasts fired, Peter could barely keep up. Usually he fought on instinct, and since now his instinct wasn't in play, he could hardly tell what was happening when. He wasn't having an adrenaline rush or a panic attack, just an ever increasing feeling of dread. They were evenly matched, but Mr. Stark was purposely missing, trying to keep Peter alive and unharmed. It worked against him.

Swivilla was keeping up evil villain commentary in the back.

"Feel my pain, Stark," she crowed, "Feel my despair. Not nice, is it, being beaten?"

"I wouldn't know," Tony managed to fire back at her. Peter tried to force his features into a grin but it didn't work. Resistance was fruitless. Peter watched helplessly as Not-Peter webbed Tony to the wall then, using a carefully aimed shot of web, knocked the anti-serum from Tony's waist and went lunging after it. It was snatched up before he could get to it. Not-Peter and Peter were both curious and fearful as to who picked it up, and lifted their head in unison.

The antidote was held firmly in the hands of Natasha.

Peter felt the dread plunk like a concrete load in his gut. Where did her loyalties lie? She grinned menacingly and tossed the antidote to the side.

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