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Any other time, they might have considered taking advantage of being left alone in Peter Parker’s home. Would it be breaking their truce? Probably not, but the urge to eat all his food or something equally petty and rude certainly existed.
But this wasn’t just his home, his other reminded him. It was theirs. And there was no reason to make an intelligent, reasonable woman like Mary Jane Watson-Parker suffer for her husband’s mistakes. As it was, they’d watched her storm out after an argument with their foe. And Eddie would be lying if he said it didn’t give him a little satisfaction to watch something in Spider-Man’s perfect life fall apart.
In any case, they weren’t in any position to be moving around. He could feel his other still working to patch him up, repair his broken ribs, mend the rotator cuff tear, fix the punctured lung… He’d put on a brave face from the moment he collapsed into the Parkers’ apartment but they were in trouble and he knew it. But they also knew that Spider-Man was unfortunately the only hero in this city capable of organizing an effort against Carnage. Preferably, they would have approached the Fantastic Four, but they didn’t understand. Neither did Parker, not really, but he could at least be goaded into things by some misguided sense of responsibility.
They weren’t above using that against him if push came to shove. But they did have their limits. Unlike him, they had standards.
A click at the front door caught their attention. He heard a woman’s voice, muttering to herself, “Please be gone, please be gone, please let him be gone.”
Mary Jane was probably not hoping that about her husband. He had been gone, for maybe about twenty minutes now. Eddie sighed quietly under his breath.
Should we make ourselves scarce?
His other gave an admonishing response and sent a tendril down to wrap around the leg of the old couch. Eddie could force the situation, but he preferred not to - they’d already had one recent situation that had put their bond in jeopardy courtesy of a very unfriendly biological agent. (It had also ruined their date night with a very lovely woman.)
At least allow me to sit up.
It hesitated.
…please?
Moved by the thought and the affection that came with it, it helped him brace and move into a sitting position. He hissed between his teeth when he tried to use his bad shoulder, still being healed by the symbiote.
“Shit,” they heard from the hallway.
Eddie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he closed them and leaned his head against the back of the couch. “We’re not going to hurt you, Mrs. Watson-Parker.”
Silence from the hallway. Then, the sound of her heels clicking across the floor. His other urgently nudging him made him open his eyes again, and it took him a second to register Mary Jane standing five feet away wielding a cigarette lighter and an aerosol can of hairspray. His eyes widened and he felt his other try to hurry up with his shoulder.
She shook, just a little, despite the determined set in her face. They could taste her nervous sweat in the air. If they focused enough, they could even hear her heart racing. But she also seemed ready to burn this apartment to the ground if necessary.
“Don’t. Move.” She glanced over to the table. “I-I just came to get my wallet.”
Eddie followed her gaze. He raised a clawed hand. “We could get it-”
“DON’T!” she yelled, and flicked the lighter, producing its flame. “Don’t. Don’t move. I’m gonna get it, and then I’m going to walk out of here, and I’m going to go to be with people who don’t fight homicidal alien maniacs, or let them sleep on our couch, or don’t even let things pause for sixty seconds after a funeral!"
He was about to correct her on the latter, that Venom wasn’t a homicidal maniac, and frankly, neither was the symbiote that bonded to Cletus Kasady. However, she seemed upset by more than just his presence in her apartment, like maybe Venom was just the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. He slowly lowered his hand and advised his other to unwrap it for now. The tendrils vanished into his skin, but Mary Jane still kept the aerosol can and flame trained towards them.
They watched her inch towards the table, but even as she did so, they snuck a tendril under the couch and followed her. They couldn’t take any risks while they were healing. So as soon as she looked away to take her wallet, they snatched the hairspray up in a tendril and yanked it away.
She yelped and fumbled the cigarette lighter. Thankfully, it extinguished before it hit the floor. Mary Jane yelled in frustration and sank into a chair at the table. She buried her face in her hands before finally looking up again at him with an ugly grimace.
“Why did you come?”
He set the hairspray aside on the coffee table. “We didn’t have a-”
“No, not…” She chuckled mirthlessly as she retrieved the lighter. She looked at Eddie; the hairspray; the lighter. She sighed and tossed it onto the table. “Not tonight. I’m talking about when Venom broke into my fucking home and made me feel like I couldn’t be safe there anymore.” Her voice broke before she cleared it. “The one time I felt like I could be happy, like I could feel like I really could have it all - a career, a husband, a family, a home - and in comes my husband’s fucking doppelganger. A really fucking ugly one.”
They considered the question. Even if it was largely rhetorical, she had asked it of them. His other prodded at him unhappily, reminding him that it hadn’t even wanted to break in as soon as it had realized Spider-Man wasn’t even there. It had been probably a year ago now, but clearly it had stuck with her. They still remembered how she had crumpled into the corner upon their approach, her eyes wide with fear, unable to even scream for help-
Why had they done that?
Why had he done that? Just because he could? Because he had the power? Because despite the fact that the first thing they (he) had done was try to save a man’s legacy, their (his) second had to be to - what, terrorize a woman just so she could tell her husband he was being hunted?
“It wasn’t… Venom.”
She huffed. “What the hell kind of deluded-”
“It wasn’t my other. It wasn’t the symbiote. It…” He rubbed his face. “It didn’t want to come in. It knew Spider-Man wasn’t in your home so it wanted us to leave and seek him elsewhere.”
“So… it was you?”
“Yes. It was my decision.”
“You fucking…” Mary Jane grabbed the first thing she saw - a coaster - and chucked it at him. “...bastard!”
He went to block it from hitting him, but the symbiote kept his injured arm still… and also held down the other arm. The coaster hit him square on the temple, hard enough to make him see stars. Eddie stared in shock as it dropped onto the couch. His other stayed dead silent even as it released his arm. “It hit me.” His eyes went to Mary Jane, who looked equally stunned that it had made its target. “You let it hit me?”
It made a kind of displeased rumble in the back of his mind; all dark shades of blue and green. And then, two words: “Your. Mistake.”
“My mistake?!”
“Yours.”
His jaw dropped open. On the other side of the room, Mary Jane snorted. And then she started giggling. He scoffed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure this is hilarious to you-”
“I mean, I did-” She started laughing harder, taking her hand away from her mouth to try and catch her breath. “I did just hit Venom with-” She had tears in her eyes now. “I hit Venom with a coaster! I almost took Venom out with- with a coaster!”
He tried to keep a straight face, but it really was ridiculous. The only ones to manage that were either Spider-Man or Carnage and his ilk, but apparently, against Mary Jane, his other wouldn’t lift a tendril. “I’m injured.”
“Oh, you’re injured, poor you.” Her hysterical laughter had faded, but she still brushed her red curls away from her face with a smirk. “Fucking bastard. It wasn’t even the alien. It was you. Asshole.” Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “Should throw something else at you.”
“Should.”
“Stop agreeing with her!” Eddie hissed.
That got another rueful chuckle out of her. “If I get a knife, will it get you out of my apartment?”
“I have a torn rotator cuff.”
“Hmph. We all deal with shit. Peter’s godson is fatherless now.” She frowned heavily and kicked at the table. “We went to the funeral yesterday.”
He lifted his eyebrows. Godson? He sent a questioning notion to his other. It gave the mental equivalent of a shrug, but about all it could provide was a confirmation that, yes, Parker was a godfather. “I’m… sorry for your loss.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“No, I’m quite sincere. It’s a terrible thing to lose a parent.”
Mary Jane stared at the ceiling. “I asked him to put it away for a week or two. We just lost someone who was more than just a friend, after all. He was a part of our life. But then you and your fucking spawn just-” She threw her hands in the air. “Show up. Symbiotes appear and our life goes to shit. Like clockwork.”
“For what it’s worth, we did move to the other side of the country.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, “and as soon as Peter saw you on the national news, he caught the first flight over there. Same as you did into JFK as soon as Carnage resurfaced. Can’t you all just… leave each other alone?”
“We tried,” they growled.
“Try harder. It’s an alien, right? It must have a home planet. Go there.”
The symbiote would not elaborate, but it seemed quite certain that would be a bad idea. “I don’t think that’s feasible.” Eddie tried moving his shoulder a little - almost better. “Rest assured, Mrs. Watson-Parker, we intend to return to my hometown as soon as we have put Carnage down for good.”
“Good.” She at last stood and retrieved the one thing she’d actually come back for. Mary Jane tapped her nails on the table, and then- “Venom. Your truce with Spider-Man - it still stands, right?”
“It does. He saved someone we care for deeply, when we would have failed to do so on our own.”
“Well, keep that in mind out there. Regardless of what you think of him, Peter loves people in a way you can’t even fathom. I may not always like it, but I know that’s why he does it - why he can’t step away from being Spider-Man.”
“And yet he hides behind a mask.”
“To protect people.” The way she said it felt a little rehearsed. “We all wear masks - to protect ourselves; to protect those around us. When we can’t face ourselves in the mirror; when we want to feel better and more confident than we really are.” Mary Jane picked up her purse, tossed in the cigarette lighter, and grabbed the hairspray on her way towards the hallway. “Are you any different than him?”
Who were they? Two beings who’d found solace in each other - a failed reporter and an outcast. Together, yes, they were more, but… “I suppose we may not be.”
“Truth hurts, Brock.”
“Mrs. Watson?”
She paused at the doorway.
“Were you really going to use that hairspray?”
Mary Jane shook the can. It barely rattled. “It’s nearly empty. Probably wouldn’t have even done much damage to you. Less than the coaster, at least.”
Less than the coaster… He smiled, just a little. “For what it is worth, we will… not actively contribute to your husband’s demise.”
“Goodbye, Venom.” And as she left the apartment again, they heard her mutter, “And good riddance.”
(Thank you Kelly for this amazing piece of art! MJ's not messing around anymore.)