Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

Coulson was beginning to hate two things. One was a never-ending pile of paperwork that Fury had left for him, and the second was Fury himself.

He was standing at the last security checkpoint for entry into the raft. He found a file marked 'For Director's Eyes Only' and upon opening it, cursed Fury's name.

There were four 'guests' currently sitting in cells, waiting to be processed. Something Fury had left for the next Director to do.

In front of the cell, Coulson wanted to groan as he saw the occupant.

He pressed the intercom, "Osborn. I can't say I'm happy to see you."

"The feeling is mutual. I guess Fury was too busy to interrogate me himself?" Norman didn't move from the cot bed. The cell was more luxurious than the normal cells if it could be called that. He had a desk, a cot and a curtain around the toilet and sink. Practically a four-star hotel in the world of imprisonment.

"Fury doesn't work for Shield, I'm the Director now."

"Oh joy. So, do I at least get a last meal?" Norman glared at Coulson. "As I would prefer to be executed on a full stomach."

"Nothing so dramatic," Coulson had the four files. "Says here you're claiming you were cloned and everything was the clone's fault."

Norman snorted, "My blood is clean, there are no markers for Formula or alien cohabitation. I've been told that monster was eight feet tall. Do I look eight feet tall to you?"

Coulson had to admit that Osborn was right. The lab where he had been found was a cloning facility, which Osborn claimed was Shaw's. He claimed to have been held prisoner for years, while his duplicate ruined his life. The problem was all the evidence corroborated his story.

"You'll be processed and freed within twenty-four hours."

"That's it!" Osborn stood and banged on the cell door, "You screw me over and I."

Coulson hit the button and switched the intercom off. He did not need to listen to another rant.

Cell two was just as bad.

He hit the button for the intercom, "Osborn Junior."

Harry looked up. He was sitting at the desk and was furiously writing. Coulson could see a pile of wrinkled and filled paper already littering the desk. "When am I being released."

Coulson sighed. Harry also had an alibi. It was known that the Klyntar could control their hosts, and Harry dumped everything on Monarch. He was held, trapped in his own mind, since he was fourteen.

"You will be processed and released within twenty-four hours."

"Good." Harry turned his back and went back to writing.

At least he hadn't yelled.

Cell three was a mystery.

Lying on the bed was Police Captain George Stacy.

"Captain Stacy. To be honest I am surprised you're in here."

George looked up, "If you don't know why I'm here, then I'm not telling you," before he laid his head back down.

"Processed and then released. We have no reason to keep you here."

George sat up, "Let Gwen know. I don't want her to worry."

Coulson nodded and moved on to the last cell.

"Malcom uh Reynolds?" Coulson was sure he'd heard that name before, but it must have just been a coincidence. "I have no idea why you are here either." The older man, with silver grey hair, was lying comfortably on the cot with his hands behind his head.

"For being devilishly handsome and too suave to let loose on the female population."

Coulson frowned, "Yeah, I'm sure that's it. Processed and realised within twenty-four hours." Coulson would do a rush job on this one. He had no record, no powers, and even his blood work came back completely clean. His only crime was being found at the Life Foundation building, half-starved.

Coulson had no idea why these prisoners were being held.

Both Osborns had alibis and while there would be an outcry at their release, they were still innocent. Stacy and the other man were just as much of a mystery.

He had tried to get a hold of Fury to ask him, but his phone was disconnected and his safehouses were empty. Even Wakanda refused to get in touch with him.

With no choice, Coulson let the four men go.

⁂

Gwen and Liv were sharing lunch in the Parker building cafeteria. It was the usual amount of busy, but nobody would bother the two company heads.

"Any luck?" Gwen asked Liv, but she already knew the answer.

"We checked Cybertron, but we have no idea where the portal sent him. We don't think he's lost, just, very far from home."

"But it's just a guess, he could be dead or worse, stuck with no way home."

Liv patted Gwen on the hand. "Yes, it is just a guess. But the energy readings we have tell me the portal was stable, it was connected and it had an endpoint. Peter is tough enough to survive in most environments." She snorted a little laugh. "And charming enough I'd be more worried about him coming home with another five or six women."

Gwen gave a small smile, "then I guess we should make sure he has a great homecoming."

Liv laughed and noticed Linda, the real Linda, approach, "Um Miss Stacy, there is a man at the main reception, and uh." She paused as she looked at Gwen, "Sorry Miss Stacy, but he says he's your father."

Gwen frowned in confusion, "But the Returners were months ago. Another Skrull?"

Liv stood, clipping the lid back on the Tupperware container that held their lunch. "Then I guess we go give him a warm welcome."

⁂

George was sitting in the bright office, wondering what the hell had been happening. It had been over a decade, and his little girl had grown up. He shook his head. No, not a little girl anymore.

He saw Gwen and Liv barge through the security door and he stood and raised his hands. "I surrender. I know, but Shield held me prisoner. I am willing," but Gwen barreled into him and just sobbed as she hugged him.

"Yes, of course, the hug test. Hello, Olivia Octavius, Just hold out a hand." George lifted an arm as far as Gwen would let him, and Liv slipped a small sensor over the tip of a finger. "Little pinch." George felt the blade cut into him, but he'd had his blood sugar tested before, and it stung but didn't hurt.

Liv stepped back, "Yellow, meaning an X-Gene, and green, meaning human. So unless you are a clone, then you are George Stacy."

Gwen hugged him tighter. "Gwen, baby, too tight," George wheezed as Gwen seemed intent on crushing him to death. She did relax but it was still like being held in a vice. Liv just shrugged apologetically and let Gwen get it out of her system. "Maybe take this to a meeting room? I mean, it looks like you have a few things to talk about."

Liv gently rubbed Gwen on the back and she loosened her grip enough for George to straighten up. She held onto his arm as Liv guided them to the main meeting room on the ground floor.

Liv laughed as Gwen seemed reluctant to let go of her father and he was pried out of her grip. She wheeled one of the chairs over and was happy to rest her arm on his.

"Uh, well. I mean, I was briefed about the returners, and all that was fixed, but." George looked embarrassed, "I died, so you have my estate. I know the house is gone, as I tried my keys, and I know my job is gone too. The department is not happy I'm back." He would be looking into that. His replacement went bright red and started yelling about clones and alien invaders. "So, uh." George patted Gwen on the arm, "I need a place to live and most of your inheritance back. I have no money and won't take charity."

"Oh," was all Gwen said. "Uh, sure I mean. It's not like I'm poor or anything. I think it was a couple of million, most of your medals are at the precinct, and I stuck the rest into storage."

George patted her arm, "Honey. I am glad I'm back, but, you got a life, you have a," He paused, "Is Peter and, I mean. I don't see him here."

Gwen froze and slowly slid her hand off his arm, "It's complicated. I mean, really really complicated."

Liv stared at the pair. "Well, this looks like a father-daughter talk, and you don't need me for that." Liv smiled and stood. Gwen was making faces at her, scowling and nudging her head at her father. "No Gwen. Talk to him. It is much better than what I would do to my father."

George spotted Gwen making faces as she suddenly tried to look innocent. "Why, did you not get along with your father?" he asked.

Liv smiled, "We have a meeting room on the top floor. I think. Yes, I think I would ask him if he knew the definition of defenestration before I gave him a demonstration." Liv leant over and patted Gwen on the arm. "Give him a second chance. Not everyone gets one."

Liv walked out of the meeting room, leaving Gwen and George awkwardly looking at each other.

Her phone was out of her pocket before the door closed.

Felicia, MJ. Gwen's father just showed up, not a Skrull, a Returner. Be prepared.

⁂

Philip Watson had been back for months. Every time he screwed up the courage to go see his daughter he lost it and went home.

Every day for a month he walked to the Parker Building, and mumbled, "Sorry," to himself, trying to sound sincere. And every day as soon as he saw her, lost his nerve,

He had wallowed in misery. He had watched as he drove away the one good thing in his life, and then wallowed more. When he saw her starring in a movie he had two thoughts, One, can I get money from her, and that led to the second. I'm a piece of shit father.

He cleaned up his act. Joined a twelve-step program and even got a job.

Some fucking job that was. He was handed a uniform given a basic set of instructions and then was trapped behind a blank mask of agony. Harry Osborn's private army.

It was a relief when whatever the hell it was killed him. He never even felt it. Just a blissful nothingness.

And then he was back, a Returner they said. Caused by Peter Parker making a wish on some magic rocks.

If he hadn't had his brain taken over by a black slug and then had it eaten, it would have sounded ridiculous.

He read and saw his little girl become something wonderful without him. So he stopped. He kept clean, got a janitorial job, and stuck to the program. Even when one of the assholes he worked with came in laughing his ass off he never wavered. He tried to ignore them but he had a magazine shoved in his face.

There, for the world to see, was his little girl, baring her tits and ass.

Philip Watson never wanted a drink more than the moment he saw his little girl's nude pictures. But he didn't, she was a woman, as he could clearly see, and he was a fuck up. He took the lumps, waved his hand, and ignored their jeers.

He took out his phone.

MJ, I know you don't deserve it, I know I messed up, which is why I won't bother you. I made so many mistakes, I tried and failed, I fucked up and then fucked up more.

It doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you,

love dad.

He held his finger over the send button. it would go to the corporate mail of AIM but he was sure MJ would get it. He stared at the message and then hit delete.

She was doing just fine without him.

⁂

"Father," Harry said as Norman slid into the booth next to him. Once he knew there was nobody nearby, Harry leaned forward, "Or should I say, whoever the hell you are."

Norman snorted, "I'm Osborn, just not the first one. Shaw made backups in case Norman ever got himself killed."

"So, we do what, pretend nothing happened, that you didn't abandon me, and that Goyle was a mistake?" Harry hissed.

"If you want. I would rather screw over everyone who did us wrong. I'm not him, Shaw made...adjustments, so I'm not as brash, a little more compliant, but just as bloodthirsty." Norman slid out a tablet, "And I have gifts."

Harry scoffed. "I've seen the website, plus I remember. I had Monarch in my brain for over five years plus exposure to the Mind Stone. I know what he knew, and whatever scheme you've got won't work."

"Sentinel Six. A group of clones dedicated to keeping America free of influences." Norman had been through the data left by Ultron and had already found and fixed the Goblin Serum.

Harry laughed, "You're just as insane as he was." Harry scrunched up the napkin, "and I won't help you. Get some other idiot to fund your project."

Norman laughed. "Fund me? Monarch might have kept money hidden, but I have billions locked away. Shaw needed someone who could act in the shadows, and it's now all mine." Norman slid the tablet over, with the page open on a suit of Armour. It had been modified and was painted Red, White, and Blue. At the top of the page, Harry saw the code name.

'Iron Patriot'

"I don't want you to fund it, Harry. I want you to lead it."