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Adrenaline is such a fascinating thing. It flows through the veins like a welcomed poison, increasing the body’s heart rate. It’s the feeling of hot lava delivering the fight or flight response that some crave. Peter Parker, also known as Spiderman, found himself once again experiencing the familiar feeling of an adrenaline rush.
He typically found himself in that situation when dealing with the common crooks that littered the streets of New York. And his current situation was no different. It had been an extremely busy day patrolling the city, and he was exhausted. But the hero would never turn away from the chance to stop a bunch of criminals. Unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t be his lucky day.
“Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” Spiderman asked snarkily when he swung onto the scene. The situation was in an alleyway between two small businesses in a less populated part of the city. “Also, ski masks really aren’t as discrete as you may think. They kind of just scream ‘I’m a robber.’”
The three scruffy-looking males jerked their heads in the hero’s direction. In an instant, three handguns were pointed at him. Scoffing, Spiderman clung to the wall behind him and dodged the bullets shot his way. He shot a few webs at one of the thugs, easily tossing the gun to the side. But when he went to handle the other two, he realised that his web shooter wasn’t working.
“Shit,” he hissed quietly, whacking it through his suit lightly. Neither of the web shooters seemed to be cooperating. To his knowledge, he hadn’t damaged them in any way. So they must have been empty.
Panic set in, but he found himself quickly dodging more bullets. He had to bail, and fast, but they were blocking the exit. He wouldn’t be able to crawl to the roof and dodge the bullets fast enough simultaneously, and he didn’t have any web fluid left to swing himself away.
In short, he was trapped, and for the first time in a while, he was scared.
“Maybe we can reschedule this meeting,” the hero choked out, dodging another shower of metal. The bullets pinged off of the brick behind him, inches away from his flesh.
“It’s about time someone put you in your place, Spiderboy,” one of the crooks spoke in a gruff voice mockingly.
“I’m not a boy, I’m twenty!” Spiderman snapped before he could stop himself. “Aw, shit,” he muttered when he realised he’d just revealed his age to a bunch of thugs.
“We don’t care how old ya’ are, we just want ya’ out of the city for good,” another one spat.
The man without a weapon slowly drew a large blade out of his jacket pocket, flicking the blade upwards threateningly. They didn’t just want to kill him, they wanted to leave a mark. To let everyone know that Spiderman wasn’t as strong as they thought he was.
Scrambling backwards, the young lad tried to think of a plan on the spot. Unfortunately, they weren’t nice enough to give him time to think. A bullet whizzed past his head, just barely grazing his right arm.
“Fuck!” he hissed, instinctively grasping at the spot. If he had taken any more time to move his arm would have a piece of metal wedged in the bone. The thought caused a shiver to run up his spine. If he didn’t leave soon, he would be minced meat. Increased agility and wall-crawling could only get him so far. As for his strength . . . his fists were no match for guns and knives.
Before he could panic any further, a loud hissing sound filled the alley. Spiderman’s eyes widened in horror behind his mask. He knew of only one thing that made that sound, and to his knowledge, it had been in hiding for quite some time.
Venom.
The anti-hero had been absent for about three years from New York. Peter was hoping that it was gone for good, and a part of him thought it might even be dead. But it seemed that Venom could be a likely explanation for why his spider-sense hadn’t warned him before he heard the noise.
Great, if he wasn’t fucked before he surely was now. Fear overwhelmed his senses as he watched a large mass move through the dark night around them.
“Dude what the hell is that?” someone yelled.
The sound of more bullets filled the air, but it was soon accompanied by the sound of bones crunching and terrified screams. Spiderman watched, frozen in fear, as the thugs were quite literally devoured. Though it was dark, the sounds that filled the alley left nothing to the imagination. It was obvious as to what was taking place. Venom was ripping them apart.
Intense confusion mixed with the fear in the hero’s mind. The only explanation he could think of as to why Venom was helping him was that it wanted the honour of killing Peter all to itself.
With that thought in mind, his body finally began obeying the commands from his brain. He bolted, rushing towards the only exit of the alley. But before he could make it out, the large mass known as the symbiote landed in front of him.
Towering over the small male, Venom was the definition of a creature from someone’s nightmares. White eyes and a sinister smile were painted along its features, sharp teeth glinting in the lowlight of a nearby streetlamp.
Spiderman’s heart rate skyrocketed, and he found himself taking a step back. He was no match for Venom under normal circumstances. Without his web fluid, he didn’t stand a chance. Though he didn’t realise it right away, he found himself slowly backing away from the approaching symbiote.
Venom didn’t speak, just regarded the hero with slanted white eyes. Feeling his resolve slowly disappear, Spiderman found his mouth opening on its own accord.
“So, you’re back in New York?” he choked out as his back hit a wall.
Venom towered over him, cornering his much smaller body. Its grin widened, most likely smelling the fear rolling off the hero in waves. Still, it said nothing.
“Why did you help me?” Spiderman blurted out before he could stop himself. “I-I don’t understand.”
Instead of answering, Venom reached out a clawed hand and yanked off the mask sheltering Peter’s face. “Y-You can’t just—” Peter stuttered, but the claws dangerously close to his face caused him to clamp his mouth shut.
“You’re welcome, Spider,” the symbiote purred, once again avoiding answering the question.
“Um, y-yeah, thanks? I-I’m kind of confused here—” Peter babbled, his heart slamming against his rib cage. “Y-You were gone for three years . . . and now you’re back and you just helped me and I don’t really know what to do now . . .”
“Shhh,” Venom hissed, pressing a claw to Peter’s lips.
Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, his heart jumping in his chest. He was certain that Venom could hear it trying to escape his ribcage. He tensed up further as the symbiote pressed its face into his neck. He had to press his lips together to suppress a fearful whimper. Venom could decapitate him right then and there and he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing to stop it.
“Please—” Peter whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t even know what he was begging for. Was he begging for Venom to kill him as quickly as possible? Or for it to magically leave him alone?
“Shhh,” Venom purred once more, its clawed hands caging Peter in.
Peter’s legs were shaking from fear. He could feel the heat washing off of Venom, seeping into his own skin. They were close, too close. Much too close. He didn’t know what the symbiote was doing, but it was freaking him out.
“You smell like fear, Spider. It’s very intoxicating.” Peter could feel the sinister grin against the delicate skin of his neck. “But you do not have to be afraid anymore, they are gone.”
Clearly, the symbiote thought the majority of Peter’s fear was leftover from dealing with the thugs. “I don’t understand . . . Why are you back? Why did you help me?”
The symbiote nuzzled his neck gently, and Peter shivered. “We missed you. We missed our interactions with you. Our host missed you, too. A lot,” Venom grinned.
“E-Eddie missed me? Why?” Peter’s confusion was only growing.
“We do not know,” the symbiote admitted. “Our host’s mind works in very interesting ways. But we do know that he always felt something for you, Spider. And it is intriguing.”
“So you helped me because . . . because Eddie likes me?” Peter exclaimed. “And you don’t want to kill me . . .?” he clarified nervously.
The symbiote chuckled, and Peter could feel the vibrations through his own chest. “No, we do not wish to harm you. That would be no fun. We prefer the chase,” it grinned.
“What . . . what does that mean?” Peter swallowed thickly.
Instead of answering, Venom moved its head away from Peter’s neck. White eyes zeroed in on the small scar that was showing through the tear in Peter’s suit.
“You are injured,” it growled. “Let us help.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a small scratch,” Peter tried, but he didn’t appear to be appeasing the symbiote in any way. “Look . . . can I talk to Eddie please?” he begged.
He still didn’t understand. He spends a few years hunting down Venom only for both the symbiote and host to vanish for three years. But now they were back, and claiming they had some sort of attraction to him? It was incredibly alarming and confusing.
“Another time. For now,” the symbiote paused, a small black tendril stretching out and attaching itself to the scar on Peter’s arm. Peter’s eyes widened in alarm, fear flickering across his features. “Sh, Spider, it is okay,” it reassured him.
Peter watched nervously as the tendril stroked the skin gently before retracting back into Venom’s body. It lifted a wrist and shot some webbing at the fragile skin. The black substance wrapped around his upper arm like a thick band-aid.
"Thank you,” Peter said in slight confusion.
He assumed the webbing would hold until he got home to tend to the small cut. Truly, it was nothing, his advanced healing would take care of it as soon as he got rest. But apparently, it appeased the symbiote to know that it was helping him, so he didn’t say anything more on the matter.
"Not just for helping my cut,” he added after a moment of silence. He still wasn’t certain why the symbiote had literally saved his life, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be grateful.
Venom grinned, which looked no less terrifying than before. Before Peter knew what was happening, he was being lifted off of his feet. “W-What are you doing?!” he cried.
“Helping,” came the smug reply.
“You can’t just do that!” Peter protested in annoyance. “People will see me unmasked!” That wasn’t his only problem with being carried like a damsel in distress, but he didn’t dare say any more to the symbiote. They were much too close for his liking, for one thing, but Peter was sure that the symbiote wouldn’t view that as a valid reason
“Sh,” it hissed. “Be a good spider and stay still.”
“But people will see me,” Peter reitterated.
“Then hide your face,” it said as if that were the most obvious solution.
“But—” Peter started to protest again, but a glare from the symbiote shut him up immediately. Huffing in annoyance, the hero let himself be carried by Venom. Feeling his cheeks burn, he hid his face in the anti-hero’s chest. “Just so people won’t see me,” he mumbled, making sure that was clear.
A low chuckle rumbled in its chest. “Of course, little spider.” It still sounded incredibly smug, to Peter’s irritation.
Peter felt the familiar rush of web-slinging, but it was different. There was a lack of control, and he didn’t like it. Anxiety knotted in a pit in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it. He didn’t want to anger the symbiote. Plus, it was technically trying to help him. He was all out web fluid and he really didn’t feel like taking the bus or walking a million miles back to his apartment.
Speaking of an apartment, Peter hadn’t told Venom where he lived. As he lifted his head up slightly and opened his mouth to let the symbiote but shocked to see his apartment complex in his field of vision. “H-How did you know where I lived?” The familiar coil of fear joined the anxiety in his stomach.
Peter knew that Venom could sense his fear, but it stayed silent. Crawling along the wall of the building, it pushed open his second-floor window easily. The hero didn’t dare ask how it knew that he kept that window open every night. For all he knew, it had been stalking him.
The instant they arrived in Peter’s room, Peter threw himself away from the symbiote with a look of terror on his face. “How did you know?” he demanded. “I want a real answer."
Venom stayed by the window, not attempting to close the distance between the two. “We watch,” it said slowly, “to make sure you are safe.”
Peter’s head was spinning. “You weren’t really gone, were you? You and Eddie have been keeping tabs on me like some stalkers.” The accusation in his voice was clear. He was terrified of the idea of being watched, as he should have been.
It didn’t answer him. It almost looked embarrassed, and a sheepish look crossed its face. “We know you are afraid. So we must go.” It stopped at the window, turning to look at Peter with an unrecognisable expression. “We did not have ill intentions,” it tried to defend itself. “Trust us.”
“It’s kind of hard to,” Peter snapped without meaning to. He covered his mouth and instinctively took a step back in fear, but Venom didn’t snap at him.
Instead, the symbiote began crawling out the window. “Eddie would like to see you again. We would too, we think. One day,” it promised. “Goodbye, little spider.”
Peter watched in bewilderment as it crawled out his window and into the blackness of the night. As soon as it was gone, he slammed his window shut and locked it. Then he slid his back down the wall, his hands tugging at his hair as he tried to process the recent turn of events.
Venom had saved him. Venom was watching him. Eddie . . . liked him? It was all very confusing. The hero decided to sleep it off, hoping that there would be no more weird occurrences for a while.
That night, his dreams were filled with white eyes and a sinister smile.