Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

Felicia slumped back on her couch, tired from the day's activities.

She had sat and gone through every single file with a fine toothcomb to find out exactly what had been taken. Even with her numbering system, it was slow and tedious. There were several files that had single pages missing. Not just research but files she had sorted into location and business. Even asking Gwen and now Liv they couldn't fill in the blanks.

What Felicia did know was that someone had gone through every file and altered them. And she hated that.

She rested her hands on her head and groaned in frustration.

We can hunt them. We should hunt them.

I know, but we have nothing, a few scraps of clothing, some blood and sweet fuck all else.

We know, but we can hunt still. We know the scent, we know,

Sorry Huntress, but New York is huge, with millions of people, and we won’t find one person that way.

Huntress huffed, then we are as frustrated as you, eat cake, then Peter, and then both, if Gwen is willing, her too.

Felicia snorted, I can’t spend all day screwing you know. Even if the idea did appeal to her.

She groaned again, letting the slow anger build.

It just pisses me off. They took one thing and left everything else. It cant be the cops or we’d be in cuffs. Osborn would probably have just killed us all. So that leaves a third group. One that takes care of their own but leaves everyone else out to dry.

So? Hunt them.

I just said.

Huntress interrupted her, no, I agree, but we still have prey, we still can hunt.

Felicia opened her eyes, yeah, yeah we do.

Felicia grabbed her notepad, already filled with her notes and began.

Huntress huffed. No, we are only for Venom. Go back to the lesser you, the one we chose.

Felicia paused in her writing. You mean use Black Cat, and not you?

Huntress laughed. We will play dress up like our sister, but yes, We only hunt with Venom, everyone else is unworthy of our presence.

Felica leaned back and pressed the pen on her lips.

Yeah, Black Cats.

A small group to make sure everyone was safe. A group dedicated to making sure that any drugs were clean, the girls were taken care of and nobody got hurt. Well, unless that was their kink. Peter said it, even scum had rules, and it could be her job to make sure they were followed.

And after, as Huntress, she could scour the streets, smash a few faces and go home satisfied with her work.

Huntress had to stay clear of the mess. Peter complained about keeping Venom's identity secret but Felicia was now juggling three.

Spunky no-nonsense bike courier, hard-hitting super badass Huntress, and criminal entrepreneur Black Cat. It was getting exhausting.

Grabbing the open pad, she began to scribble once more.

⁂

Flash clenched his hands again, hoping that feeling would return to them soon. He'd been on the balance bars for an hour over what his physio recommended, but he didn't care. He was going to get this, he was going to get revenge.

Harrison watched his son and had been keeping track of him since the accident. Ever since he was cut down in his prime. Every coach, even the ones he didn't pay, said would not only go pro but be one of the best. Harrison watched as Eugene raged. He threw and smashed things. Yelled at everyone, himself included, and then broke down crying.

He'd hired the best therapist for his son, and she'd told him it was just the accident, nothing to worry about. A few months on antipsychotics and he'd be fine. After a few months of physiotherapy and he would accept the loss of his feet. Of course, he would, he was a Thompson.

Harrison walked into the training room watching as Flash lifted himself up. Even injured his form was perfect. Arms lifting him up on a balance beam, holding his legs straight along its length.

The latest artificial limbs adorned the bottom of his legs. They were sleek and organic looking. If you didn't know better, an almost perfect match for his originals. The limbs were from Oscorp, Harrison getting a great deal on them, nothing but the best for his son. He was finally acting like a Thompson. Finally being the man he was destined to become.

"Son, take a break, you're going to hurt yourself," 

Flash just looked at him. "It's fine." was all he said. 

Harrison felt a pang of guilt, it wasn't and he knew it. Since the accident, he realised he wasn't the best father he could be. He was too focused on pushing his own goals and dreams onto the boy, maybe pushing him too hard at the time. He realised that it was his lecture that antagonised Eugene into confronting Parker. If he’d given him a better warning he would have avoided the boy altogether. It was that guilt that made him want to be a better father to his son.

"We should talk Eugene," Harrison used his name, a name he knew Flash hated. He hoped it would get through to him just how serious this was.

Flash shook his head and sprang down. Even after six months, he was still adjusting to the implant and he stumbled. Harrison leapt forwards and grabbed his son.

Flash shrugged him off and growled, "I don't need help."

Inwardly Harrison sighed. "I know son, I know."

"So, what?" Flash asked as he towelled himself off.

"Eugene, no. Flash." Harrison sighed. "I know I've not been the best father to you. I know I could have been there more, or done more."

Flash just stared at him, the towel resting on his shoulders.

"So, call this number. You can cancel the Oscorp internship. Cancel your therapist if you want, and the money in your trust fund will be made available to you. Son, you might not believe me but I am sorry."

Flash just stared at him, but took the card, "really?"

Harrison nodded, "your future should be your future, not what I want, not what I think you should do. So, it's all on you now."

The family had never been one for hugs. Fatherly love was a rarely shown emotion but right now was the closest they had ever gotten.

"Although, son, if you have that kind of fun with your therapist, make sure the door’s closed eh?" Harrison laughed.

An irate office manager had called. There had been complaints about Flash and one of his therapists having very loud sex in her office. Harrison had laughed at the man and written him a check to keep him quiet.

Flash knew exactly what he meant. He'd had an outburst. A showing of his true feelings in her office. It was a rare vulnerability and in taking his hand they had kissed. Flash had been surprised at first, but as it lead to more he never complained. Flash assumed his father had paid her to screw him, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe he'd see if she wanted a repeat.

"Thanks, Dad, really. Thanks. Oh uh, you still have the number for John right?"

Harrison leaned forward, "John Jameson?" The boy had done some work for Oscorp after a space mission went bad but he'd been off the radar for a while now, "sure son, why?"

"Send it to me, I need his help."

Flash formulated plans in his mind as his father frowned but shrugged. "Okay, whatever you need son."

⁂

With plans made, Peter and his aunt decided to spend the morning of his birthday celebrating with shopping and then lunch.

"So, um Peter, I know this might be fast but uh," May fidgeted, she had trouble with what she wanted to say, "I've met someone."

Peter had a taco halfway to his mouth when she broke the news. He frowned a bit then bit into the taco anyway. Grinning as he chewed. "hats make unt May," he said. She had mentioned it before Christmas, but it must be getting more serious.

"Peter!" she scowled disapprovingly. "His name is Otto and he's attending one of my keep fit classes."

Peter shrugged, "Aunt May, as long as you're happy then I don't mind if you see people. You’re not old you know," Peter thought back to his last conversation about this and decided to keep quiet.

He was praying the stupid spider pheromones wouldn't work on a family member. As well as the neutraliser spray, he had stuffed his armpits and groin with webbing to keep the smell in.

He also knew Aunt May was worried about how he felt. It had been ten years since Uncle Ben had died, and Peter still thought about him. But it wasn't fair on his aunt to be alone, especially as Peter had moved out.

"I, I'd like you to meet him, maybe come for dinner sometimes, uh, and once you've met he can come and meet MJ. I uh, will warn you though, Otto, he's disabled. So no staring and no asking, the poor man lost a limb in an accident, so when you meet, behave okay."

"I will." Peter rolled his eyes, he wasn't going to ask the disabled man anything too stupid.

"Of course, dear," May said, and she made a note to call MJ. She knew Peter would probably put his foot in it at some point during the evening. It would be up to May would have to prepare Otto for that. MJ would have to prepare Peter not to be too oblivious. MJ definitely had the harder job of the pair.

⁂

When Norman woke up his head was pounding and his mouth was dry.

Where the hell am I? He thought as the onscreen HUD of the Goblin armour simply flashed ‘out of range.’

He remembered that damn message, that damn headache and the sting as the interface stabbed him. Driving him to kill someone, driving him to flee.

Those rat bastards, he cursed, “Give me a location, and a time.”

“It is 12:42 am and you are currently in the Nevada Dessert.”

Norman cursed. “Head to these coordinates.”

After feeding on the safe house location the suit lifted off and the glider's engine roared. Active radar and tracking made sure he would keep out of the Arizona civilian flight paths. The last thing he needed was for air traffic control to ping him and Ross and his idiot brigade to be on his tail.

He had several safe houses dotted over the country. Each one was off the books, all bought and paid for in cash and registered under dummy identities. Norman knew what he did was illegal and he wasn't stupid. Once he had landed and the armour slipped open to let him disembark he felt at the back of his neck.

He peeled off the small silver disk, punctured by the needle and laughed.

He had designed the system, of course, he had fail-safes but he crushed the disk with a snarl.

He had been played. The formula had clouded his mind, allowing Shaw to screw with his plans.

Harry, he thought with contempt.

The boy was too much of an idiot to have thought of this himself, but smart enough to throw in with Shaw and his freaks. He would deal with him slowly and painfully. He might have been his son but that was no excuse. He was always fair with the boy, Firm but fair. His betrayal was the worst sin. He would maybe find Liv and skin her alive as a warning, showing Harry what his fate would be.

Shaw would be trickier. His army of mutants and freaks would make it harder to kill him.  Norman only knew the smallest part of Shaw's plan, but it was enough.

As Norman ran diagnostics on the armour he checked the weapons systems first. He had enough of the pulse weaponry to make sure that nobody would survive his wrath. It was a pity Shield had the Tesseract, or he could have made more. He shook his head. Malik was too connected to deal with that easily. Even with the disaster of the unveiling, he would be looking to bury Osborn to save his own ass.

No! He thought. He was getting ahead of himself.

Oscorp was his, and Harry took it from him. He needed to start at the bottom. Kill the board, then Liv, and then everyone who betrayed him by letting that little bastard do what he wanted.

Harry would be next, maybe if he still cared about that Parker shit he should kill him as well. Make a nice little pile of corpses to mount Harry's pathetic skull on. Then Shaw and the rest of those freaks.

They wanted a nightmare, they wanted a boogeyman to push their agenda of control. He would give them one.

The Green Goblin would drown New York in blood, and laugh as they fled in terror.

Then he could take his rightful place as ruler. Of course, he would.

He was just too important.