Family is More Than Blood

Spies

Okay, so apparently schedules don't work for me. I had the flu last week, though, so I couldn't really update. I'll try to update every week I promise, but it's probably not going to happen. Don't worry, though, the story is all mapped out, and it's even coming to an end😢. Thanks for staying with me.
    Onto the story!
    

Peter awoke in another cold cell. He was lying face down on hard, metal ground, the taste of blood overpowering in his mouth. He tried to struggle upwards, but just moving his hands made his stomach turn over. He choked back a gag, and strained his ears for noise. After a couple seconds, he heard low voices that seemed to be coming from behind a closed door.

"Is he still mine?" the voice was unmistakably Swivilla's. The other was startlingly familiar, but Peter knew that it couldn't be. 

"We don't know yet," she responded, "We have to wait until he wakes up."

"We have lost Virginia," Swivilla growled, "We have almost lost Peter. We have lost Fiona and Drien. How will we bring down Stark if our plans keep failing? Once he's here, what if the serum doesn't work on him?"

"He may be an avenger, but he's human," the second person said. Was it her? Impossible. "No serum, no giant green monster bottled up inside, no god qualities, no background training on resisting controlling serums. He may be smart and rich, but he's just as susceptible as the next person."

Mr. Stark will beat the serum, just like I did.

Peter had to believe that, had to, because otherwise how would Mr. Stark come out of this alive? Peter's message had been too vague, Mr. Stark could never have understood it. Somehow, Fake-Pepper was gone, though whether or not real Pepper was alive was a mystery. That also meant that Fake-Pepper, at least, has failed to assassinate Mr. Stark. If they wanted Peter to go in and do the honors, then Peter knew that he could fight it. But Mr. Stark would never hurt Peter, ever, even if it meant saving his own life, and that could be his downfall.

And then there was her. If she was who Peter thought she was, then Mr. Stark would be dead as soon as she wanted. How could she be working for Swivilla? It was unthinkable. For that matter, why did Swivilla hate Mr. Stark so much?

Peter's thoughts were cut off as the scraping of chairs on the floor squealed in the next room.

"He's awake," Swivilla announced, "His heart rate has picked up. Go into the next room and bring him here. Now."

"Don't you think we should check if he's himself or not?" The other asked boldly. Peter would know soon enough if it was who he thought it was.

"No point," Swivilla said, "We'll find out soon enough."

"Fine," the woman stood up and began walking towards the door, based on the sound of her boots hitting the ground.

He heard a door open, then more footsteps, then another door much closer open. He still couldn't lift his head, but the woman dragged him up to her level so he was staring into her eyes anyway.

Peter's eyes hazel eyes filled with disbelief as he stared into her green ones, his entire body screaming in pain at the sudden change in position. It took him a moment to cut through the fog of nausea and spikes of pain.

"Nice to see you again, Peter," Natasha Romanoff said softly. She raised her hand and curled it into a fist. "You're going to have to go to sleep again."

Her first made contact with his head in a sickening crunch, and Peter's world dissolved into darkness.