Arc One. Chapter Twenty-Five. Love Shouldn’t Hurt
Gwen was humming happily as she looked through a catalogue of furniture. It was all Swedish build-it-yourself stuff, but was good quality and had an added bonus. She already had visions of asking Peter to build it for her. Then asking him to strip so they could shower together as his reward.
There was a quiet knock at her door, “Gwen honey, can we talk?”
She stood and opened the door. Since she hit puberty he had walked in once and she yelled at him. Since then he kept things distant between them when it came to her room.
“I want to talk to you about Peter,” he said as he sat at her computer chair and she sat at the end of the bed. “I received a disturbing report. He was arrested.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and groaned, “Let me guess. Flash?”
“That doesn't matter. I want you to stop associating with him. An arrest for a violent crime isn’t to be taken lightly. What if he lost his temper at you, what if there is more than what Peter has been telling you.”
“Dad.” Gwen said sternly, “there is nothing Peter doesn't tell me and there is nothing more than Flash being a dick.”
George raised his eyebrow, “language. I understand your frustration, but you dont need to cuss. And while I think you know Peter, it takes two to have a fight, honey. He has hit Flash before.”
“I know, and he was provoked.” Gwen knew the truth, that Flash had punched Peter first. He would have left Peter beaten in that alley if he hadn’t fought back.
“That doesn't matter. He still attacked him. I just want you to be safe.” he turned and looked at the page of furniture, “did you finally find a place?”
Gwen tried to not look guilty as she nodded,
“Good. Let me know where it is. I don’t want you renting anywhere skeevy.”
Gwen snorted, “come on, is that even a word?”
George laughed, “fine, not skeevy. Uncool, not hip? Totally bogus.”
Gwen rolled her eyes, “I will, now. Please, let me deal with Pete.”
George stood and moved to the doorway, “I just want you to be safe.” He smiled and closed the door behind him.
⁂
Principal Walters had been at Midtown High for twenty years now and he'd seen it all. Good students and bad students and then there was Flash Thompson and Peter Parker.
If he'd been quick enough he could have stopped the rivalry between them. One was a brilliant honour student. The other, a gifted athlete.
Together they would have blown away all the competition. The trophy case could have been filled with memories, not just for the kids but for the whole school.
Now, at the end of the year, it was bare.
he didn't even want to put in the placement awards they'd won. A final tribute to the disaster he'd brought down by letting his subordinate handle Flash. He had fallen to the charms of Harrison Thomspon and hidden the evidence of the corruption.
Sure he paid the board a huge grant each year. Only Norman Osborn donated more, but he knew Osborn didn't let Harry run riot.
Flash had been handed the keys to the kingdom and had run rampant. The bullying and allegations of drug use were swept away.
When he accepted those checks, he hadn't realised he was shaking hands with the devil.
He looked at the empty case once more and sighed. Peter's lawyer had turned up and taken statements but even now it was too late.
Even with the evidence he had given, it was a sure bet he would be asked to retire. There was no high school that would accept him as a principal, and he was too old to teach.
The quiet halls of the school, now empty, were eerie at night. As he did his last rounds of the term he knew that this would be his last year.
As the locker banged Principal Walters jumped. Someone was in the school. Probably some ghoul. Wanting to snap pictures of the hallway where Flash Thompson's career ended.
In an unusual fit of bravado, he peeked around the corner. The locker door hung open, swinging back and forwards. He frowned, checking the number of the locker next to him and then counting along. This wasn't Peter's locker, where Flash attacked him. No. He realised it was Flash Thompson's locker. It was open and from the crumpled notes on the floor, someone had gone through it.
⁂
Venom watched him from the opened window. He had thought of scaring the man. Of taking great joy in making him squirm and scream but he shook his head. Being a principal was a job, it didn't pay well and there was no glory to be had, only fleeting moments.
Venom didn't have to do anything to this man. The defeated look on his face as he stared into the empty trophy case said it all. He had broken himself, he had failed the school and nothing Venom did would top that.
Swinging off into the night he felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted revenge but scaring an old man wasn't that, so he settled, for now anyway.
It would be his next victim that would make his anger fade. He would hunt Flash now.
⁂
Venom didn't care as he swung through the New York skyline. Flash's address wasn’t public record. But he liked to brag about how his dad owned an apartment in Central Park Tower on Fifth Avenue. It was a famous building in New York, almost as famous as Stark Tower.
He launched himself towards the building and as it was one of the tallest, he had to climb,
We will get revenge on Flash, he thought. He ruined our life.
Climbing around the building he peered in each window until he saw the one where Flash was. He lay on his bed with one arm over his face, and he had a brand new cast over his leg.
He crawled around the building until he found an open window. It had a safety latch to make sure nobody could open it, but Venom slide it apart with a swipe of his claws.
He climbed in, kept low and listened for anyone else. He could hear Harrison talking on the phone with someone, but he knew he could get in and out. If Harrison tried to stop him, it would only be two birds with one stone.
Staying low he snuck through the apartment. It was well decorated, and after Venom had dealt with Flash he had half a mind to trash the place. It would be fitting revenge for all the things Flash ruined of his.
He stopped as he heard Harrison come from what must have been an office and head to Flash’s room.
“I just got off the phone with one of my men. Parker got out of the arrest. He has a fucking lawyer!”
Venom heard something being thrown.
“A fucking lawyer. I thought you said he was a nobody.”
Flash shot up and cried out in pain as he scrambled back away from his father, “he is. I swear, he is.”
“Eugene. I thought I taught you better than this. You can do what you want. We have money and we have power, but right now yours is borrowed. Borrowed from me.” Venom heard the slap, “and you're fucking it up!”
“Dad please,“ he heard Flash whimper.
“Be a fucking man,” and there was another slap, “I didn't raise you to be such a fucking pussy.” There was another slap.
Venom crouched low, hearing the small sobs coming from Flash’s room
“You're a fucking disgrace Eugene. One fucking nobody and you’re like this. One fucking loser and you can’t even deal with him. What are you going to do at Oscorp?” and there was another slap, “listen to me. They’ll eat you alive.”
Venom could hear the quiet sobbing of Flash as his father berated him.
“I love you, son, I do these things so that when you’re in my position you’re tough and nobody will screw with you. You know that right?”
If Flash replied, Venom didn’t hear it, but the bed squeaked as Harrison stood.
“Clean yourself up. There is a gala coming up and you are coming with me.”
Venom heard the door handle squeak as it turned, and he backed away towards the open window.
“And get what's her name something to wear as well. I dont care if you fuck that blonde one and her at the same time. A man should be free to do what he wants, but she needs to learn where she stands. That rumour I heard about your little failure was embarrassing enough. She’s attractive enough that I want an heir by the end of the year.”
Venom heard the door to Flash's room close, “and if you can’t fucking give me one I’ll fucking do it myself.” The rest was a distorted garbled mix of swears and insults aimed at Flash.
Venom had heard enough. And he quickly dived back out the window and swung away back towards the warehouse.
⁂
He sat on the warehouse roof. Trying to take in what he had heard.
He had no idea Harrison was such a piece of shit. No idea that Flash lashed out trying to match the ideals of a misogynistic dinosaur. Who thought money could solve any problem.
As the symbskin retracted and he grabbed the clean clothing he left on the roof, he stood and looked out over the bay.
He didn’t care. Flash had problems, and so did everyone else.
Peter never once raised his voice to Aunt May. He never once turned the abuse that Flash gave him into an excuse to hurt and abuse others.
No, he still hated Flash, and as he looked at the package he had stolen from his locker, he still needed to make him pay. He would just do it in a different way.
⁂
MJ looked at her phone,
‘My dad has a work thing coming up, we need to be there, and you need a new dress’
She knew it would be a boring rich person event. Where they talked about stocks and portfolios, and that the dress would be low-cut and revealing.
She was used to being paraded around as eye candy. Flash never once introduced her as anything more than ‘My girlfriend’
Her door opened a crack, “Who was that?” she heard slurred from the hallway,
“It was Eugene, Dad. He wants me to go to a gala with him.”
He grunted non-committally, “You ask him about college yet?”
MJ tried not to sigh, “No dad. I don’t want.”
Her door banged open, “You don’t get to want. He’s rich Mary, rich, and he could solve all our problems.”
All your problems you mean, she thought as she caught the reek of alcohol coming from him.
He had been fired again last week. Caught drinking on the job. If he stayed off it, he was fine. But he never did.
He would always laugh. A high-functioning alcoholic he would call himself, but anyone who saw him drunk knew he wasn't. He was an asshole sober and a bigger one drunk.
“If you’d just let him,” he started.
“Dad!” she shouted, knowing what he was about to say,
He snorted, “too good for you huh? You aren't going to college Mary. We can't afford it, so unless that face of yours gets you to open doors, you aren't doing any better.”
She knew that, but opening doors was better than opening her legs. She wanted a career, one she was good at. She didn’t want to raise a kid with someone like Flash, she didn’t want a kid at all.
“Eugene Thompson is our ticket out of this craphole, and the sooner you realise that and hook that boy, the better. You’re not getting any younger Mary, and that face of yours won't stay as pretty for long.”
He sat on the end of her bed and patted her ankle. She was balled up in a blanket, trying to hide the look of disgust on her face.
“I’m only looking out for you Mary. Eugene Thompson is a good boy. He’s rich, handsome and he likes you. Take what he’s offering. Life can be cruel, and it doesn’t give second chances.”
He patted her ankle,
“Love you, kitten,” he said as he stood and closed the door behind him.
MJ sat in the dark, trying not to cry at her father's words.
She was more than a whore for that rich asshole and more than a bank balance for that man who pretended to be her father.
Kitten? She was Mary Jane Watson, and she was a fucking tiger.
⁂
A few days later J. Johan Jameson received a package. It was pictures and bottles that had been left for him at the front office. No name or address and as he scanned the contents he frowned and drew on his cigar.
Some punk kid does steroids and this moron expects me to publish without proof.
He pressed the intercom on his phone. "Elizabeth, get me the security guard that sent this up, tell that idiot he's fired."
He shook his head, sensational journalism was for hacks. Now if they had proof that this ‘Flush Tampons’ was doping then, of course, he'd publish. This was just a box of trash and he dumped the box in the bin.
"Remind me never to hire a person whose handwriting is that terrible," he grumbled.
Flush Tampons. As if he was going to waste his day figuring out who the hell that was supposed to be.