[SUNDAY, 0300 HOURS - OSBORN SAFE HOUSE, BROOKLYN]
Peter sat on the roof, watching the Manhattan skyline where Alchemax Tower used to stand. Now it was just a smoking crater, emergency lights still flashing, news helicopters circling like vultures.
He'd saved everyone. Zero casualties.
So why did he feel like he'd lost something?
BECAUSE YOU TOUCHED SOMETHING DANGEROUS. THE POWER. THE POTENTIAL TO BE MORE THAN HUMAN.
I didn't like who I became.
YOU LIKED IT TOO MUCH. THAT IS WHAT FRIGHTENS YOU.
The roof access door opened. Gwen emerged, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. She'd changed into sweatpants and one of Peter's hoodies, her hair still damp from the shower, face scrubbed clean of makeup and smoke residue.
"Thought I'd find you up here," she said, settling beside him. "Brooding is very superhero of you. Very Batman."
"I'm not brooding. I'm reflecting."
"That's just brooding with better PR." Gwen handed him a mug. "Drink. Ned made it. He added way too much marshmallow, but it's the thought that counts."
Peter sipped. She was right—it was approximately 40% marshmallow by volume. "Where is everyone?"
"Eddie's in the med bay, letting Norman run tests on his bonding. He hasn't stopped smiling since we got back. It's actually kind of unsettling." Gwen leaned against Peter's shoulder. "Harry's asleep—finally. The Hobgoblin symbiote healed his injuries, but he was exhausted. MJ and Ned are going through the Alchemax data we stole. Tony Stark sent over some SHIELD analysts to help."
"Tony Stark is helping us?"
"Apparently, holding up a collapsing building impressed him. Also, he said—and I quote—'any kid crazy enough to pull that stunt deserves proper tech support.'" Gwen smiled. "We're officially on the Avengers' radar. In a good way."
THE IRON MAN RESPECTS STRENGTH. AS HE SHOULD.
"How are you?" Peter asked. "After tonight?"
"Terrified. Exhilarated. Exhausted. Wondering if this is our lives now—fighting monsters, saving people, nearly dying." Gwen took a long drink of hot chocolate. "Also, I electrocuted seven people tonight. Seven. I keep seeing their faces when I close my eyes."
"They were trying to kill civilians—"
"I know. Doesn't make it easier." Gwen's hand found his. "We're fifteen, Peter. We should be worrying about SATs and prom dates and whether to take AP Calculus. Instead, we're fighting corporate super-soldiers and holding up buildings and transforming into things that make the Hulk look cuddly."
"You think the Hulk is cuddly?"
"He has kind eyes. When he's not smashing." Gwen squeezed his hand. "I'm not complaining. I chose this. I chose you. I chose The Web. But sometimes I wonder what normal us would be doing. Normal Peter and Gwen. The ones who didn't get superpowers."
"Probably making out in the library instead of on rooftops?"
"Definitely making out in the library. Much better acoustics." Gwen kissed his cheek. "But I wouldn't trade this. Not for anything. Even when it's terrifying and exhausting and I'm covered in someone else's blood."
YOUR MATE IS WISE. ALSO, SHE IS CORRECT ABOUT THE LIBRARY ACOUSTICS.
How would you know?
I HAVE BEEN BONDED WITH MANY HOSTS. TRUST ME. LIBRARIES ARE EXCELLENT FOR MATING RITUALS.
Please stop talking.
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the city. Eventually, Gwen spoke again: "What you did tonight—going full monster mode—that scared me. Not because of how you looked, but because I felt you through our bond. Felt you slipping away. Becoming something that wasn't quite Peter anymore."
"I felt it too. The power was... intoxicating. Like being drunk and high and invincible all at once." Peter stared at his hands. "I understood, for just a moment, why villains do what they do. Why they chase power. Because it feels incredible."
"But you came back. When I called you, you came back."
"Because of you. Because I'd rather be weak with you than strong without you." Peter turned to face her. "Gwen, promise me something. If I ever go too far, if I ever start losing myself to the power—promise you'll stop me. Whatever it takes."
"I promise. But same goes for you. These abilities—they're addictive. I felt it tonight too. The rush of electricity, the power flowing through me. It's easy to lose yourself." Gwen's eyes met his. "We keep each other grounded. Deal?"
"Deal."
They kissed, and through their symbiote bond, Peter felt Gwen's love mixing with his own, a perfect harmony that reminded him why he fought, why he chose to be a hero instead of a god.
THIS IS WHY HUMANS ARE FASCINATING. YOU CHOOSE LOVE OVER POWER. CHOOSE WEAKNESS OVER STRENGTH. IT IS IRRATIONAL. BEAUTIFUL.
Thanks, Venom.
YOU ARE WELCOME. NOW KISS YOUR MATE AGAIN. SHE ENJOYS IT.
You said you'd give us privacy!
I LIED.
[0800 HOURS - BRIEFING ROOM]
Peter woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of voices. He'd fallen asleep on the roof, Gwen in his arms, both of them wrapped in symbiote material for warmth. Not the most comfortable night, but better than sleeping alone.
They descended to find the briefing room packed. Norman was there, looking surprisingly fresh for someone who'd spent the night fighting super-soldiers. Harry sat with his arm in a sling—unnecessary given his healing factor, but apparently the Hobgoblin symbiote agreed with medical advice about letting injuries heal naturally when not life-threatening.
Eddie was a revelation.
He looked ten years younger, standing straighter, smiling easily. The haunted desperation was gone, replaced by something like peace. And covering his skin in intricate patterns was his symbiote—black and white, beautiful and deadly.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," Eddie said, grinning at Peter. "Heard you had a rough night."
"Says the guy who almost got consumed by his own symbiote."
"Almost being the operative word. Venom and I worked it out. We're good now. Better than good. We're perfect." Eddie's symbiote rippled across his skin, clearly pleased. "He remembers everything from our first bonding. Every moment. Even through six months of torture, he held onto that. Held onto me."
MY CHILD IS STRONG. I AM PROUD.
"Venom says he's proud," Peter relayed.
Eddie's eyes went slightly distant—his symbiote was communicating with Venom through Peter, parent and child reconnecting after months of separation. When Eddie refocused, his expression was grateful. "Your Venom helped heal mine. Repaired the damage Alchemax did. I owe you everything."
"You owe me nothing. We're family."
"Damn right we are." Eddie pulled Peter into a hug—brief, masculine, but genuine. Through the contact, Peter felt both Venoms connecting, sharing information, sharing strength. It was oddly comforting.
Ned burst in, carrying approximately seven laptops. "Okay, people! You need to see this! The internet is LOSING ITS MIND!"
He pulled up video footage on the main screen. News coverage of last night—shaky phone camera videos, security footage, professional news crews. All showing the same thing: The Web in action.
Peter swinging through the ballroom, saving civilians. Gwen's electricity illuminating the chaos like a storm goddess. Norman's white symbiote healing the injured. Harry's tactical genius coordinating rescues. And Eddie—Eddie bonded with his symbiote, finally whole, fighting with the grace of someone who'd been waiting their entire life for this moment.
But the footage that went viral was Peter. Transforming into that massive, terrifying form. Holding up the entire building while civilians evacuated. The news was calling him "Spider-Man" but some were already updating to "Spider-God" or "The Apex."
"'Spider-God?'" Peter groaned. "That's terrible."
"Better than 'Sticky Boy,'" MJ said, walking in with coffee and looking way too pleased with herself. "Which was my contribution to the internet discussion. You're welcome."
"You're the worst."
"I'm the best. Admit it." MJ pulled up more footage. "But seriously, you're famous now. All of you. The Web is officially a thing. There are already conspiracy theories, fan clubs, people demanding you register with the government, people defending your right to privacy, people writing fanfiction—"
"Fanfiction?" Gwen asked, alarmed.
"So much fanfiction. Some of it is actually well-written. Most of it is..." MJ's grin turned wicked, "let's just say, anatomically creative."
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. WHY WOULD STRANGERS WRITE FICTION ABOUT YOU?
Internet culture. Don't think about it too hard.
TOO LATE. I AM DISTURBED.
"Moving on from the horror of online shipping culture," Norman said firmly, "let's discuss what we learned. MJ, you and Ned have been analyzing the Alchemax data. Report."
MJ's expression turned serious. "It's bad. Really bad. Alchemax wasn't just creating enhanced soldiers—they were planning to sell them. To anyone. Corporations, governments, terrorist organizations. They didn't care who bought, as long as they paid."
She pulled up documents. "They have facilities in six cities, like SHIELD said. But that's not all. They have contacts in twelve more. Shell companies in thirty countries. This was a global operation worth billions."
"Was?" Eddie asked.
"Was. Because last night, while we were busy saving Manhattan, SHIELD hit every known Alchemax facility simultaneously. Arrested hundreds of people. Seized assets. Shut down the entire corporate structure." MJ smiled. "We provided the opening. SHIELD finished the job."
"So it's over?" Gwen asked hopefully.
"The corporate structure is over. But the people? Dr. Strickland escaped. So did several board members. And they took some of the symbiote research with them." Norman pulled up profiles. "These people are still out there. Still dangerous. Still capable of rebuilding."
"Then we find them," Peter said simply. "We track them down. We stop them. Permanently."
"Agreed," Norman said. "But not today. Today, we rest. We recover. We process what happened and what we learned about ourselves."
"Plus, I have a school newspaper to publish," MJ said. "Exclusive interview with Spider-Man? I'm going to win a Pulitzer before I graduate high school."
"You're not interviewing me."
"I already interviewed you. While you were unconscious on Tony Stark's rooftop. You said very illuminating things about your feelings for Gwen." MJ's grin was predatory.
Peter's face burned. "I was unconscious!"
"Sleep-talking is very revealing. Did you know you think Gwen looks like 'an angel made of lightning'? Because you said that. Three times."
Gwen was blushing now too. "He did?"
"Oh yes. Also something about how her eyes are 'the blue of summer skies where symbiotes go to dream.'" MJ checked her notes. "Which is actually kind of poetic. Very Romantic period. Byron would approve."
"I hate you," Peter muttered.
"You love me. I'm delightful." MJ winked at Gwen. "He's a keeper. Unconscious poetry is a rare gift."
YOUR FRIENDS ARE ENTERTAINING. ANNOYING. BUT ENTERTAINING.
That's MJ in a nutshell.
Harry cleared his throat, clearly trying not to laugh. "While Peter dies of embarrassment, can we talk about the symbiotes we rescued? We brought back seventeen from the facility. Some in containment, some already bonded with rescued prisoners who agreed to host them."
"Which brings up an interesting question," Norman said. "What do we do with seventeen symbiotes who need hosts?"
"We find them good hosts," Peter said immediately. "People who need help. Who are compatible. Who would use the power responsibly."
"That's a tall order," Eddie said. "Trust me, bonding isn't easy. The host and symbiote need to be compatible on a fundamental level."
THIS IS TRUE. BUT I CAN SENSE POTENTIAL HOSTS. I CAN GUIDE YOU TO THOSE WHO WOULD BE WORTHY.
"Venom says he can sense potential hosts," Peter relayed. "He can help us find people who are compatible."
"Then we do outreach," Gwen said. "Carefully. Quietly. We find people who need what we can offer. Veterans with PTSD. People with disabilities. Those who've been dealt bad hands by life and could use some cosmic intervention."
"That's a long-term project," Norman said. "But worthy. We'll start building a database. Looking for candidates."
The briefing continued for another hour, covering logistics, planning, and the new reality of being publicly known heroes. By the end, everyone was exhausted again despite having just woken up.
As the meeting broke up, Tony Stark's voice crackled through the room's speakers.
"This is a pre-recorded message because I'm currently in a post-battle debriefing and those are boring. Kid—Spider-Man, Spider-God, whatever you're calling yourself—you did good last night. Really good. But you're going to need better equipment. That tuxedo you shredded cost twelve thousand dollars. So I'm sending over some designs. Stark tech integrated with your symbiote biology. Consider it a gift from one genius to another. Also, Pepper says to tell you she's glad you're okay. She has a soft spot for heroic teenagers. Don't make her regret it. Stark out."
The message ended. Peter stared at the speaker.
"Did Tony Stark just call me a genius?"
"He also called you a kid," MJ pointed out.
"I'll take it."
THE IRON MAN RECOGNIZES YOUR WORTH. THIS IS SIGNIFICANT.
I know. It's kind of terrifying.
[1400 HOURS - TRAINING FACILITY]
Despite Norman's order to rest, Peter found himself in the training room, needing to move, to process, to understand what had happened when he'd transformed.
Eddie was there too, finally testing his abilities properly bonded with his symbiote.
"Want to spar?" Eddie asked. "I need to see what we can do together."
"You sure? You just reunited. Don't you want time to adjust?"
"We've been adjusting for six months. Every moment apart was preparation for this moment together." Eddie's symbiote flowed across his body, forming armor. "Besides, I need to see if I can keep up with the kid who held up a building."
HE CHALLENGES YOU. THIS IS GOOD. SPARRING BUILDS TRUST.
They circled each other, two men bonded with Venom symbiotes—parent and child, mentor and student, though Peter was technically younger and less experienced.
Eddie struck first, fast and precise. Peter blocked, countered, and they were off—a dance of symbiote-enhanced combat that was beautiful and brutal in equal measure.
Peter was stronger—his absorption of five symbiotes gave him an edge in raw power. But Eddie was more experienced, had trained longer, fought harder. They were well-matched.
MY CHILD FIGHTS WELL. HE HAS TAUGHT HIS HOST MUCH.
After ten minutes, they called a truce, both breathing hard but grinning.
"Not bad, kid," Eddie said. "You've got instincts. Natural talent. With proper training, you'll be unstoppable."
"You're not so bad yourself. For an old man."
"Old man? I'm twenty-eight!" Eddie laughed. "God, that made me feel ancient."
They sat against the wall, cooling down. Eddie's expression turned thoughtful.
"Can I ask you something? About the bonding? You and Gwen—you're both bonded with Venom's offspring. Does that make the relationship... easier? Harder? Different?"
"Different," Peter said carefully. "The connection between our symbiotes creates a bond between us. We can feel each other's emotions, sense when the other is in danger. It's intimate in a way that's hard to explain."
"But does it feel real? Or does it feel like the symbiote is manipulating your emotions?"
Peter considered. "At first, I worried about that. But Venom says the symbiote doesn't create emotions—it amplifies what's already there. Removes inhibitions. Lets us be honest about what we feel."
"So you really love her. It's not just the symbiote bond."
"I really love her. The bond just makes it impossible to lie about it." Peter glanced at Eddie. "Why? Are you worried about your own bonding?"
"No. My Venom and I—we're solid. We're perfect. It's just..." Eddie hesitated. "I've been alone for a long time. Burned a lot of bridges. Hurt a lot of people. And now I'm whole again, but I don't know what to do with that. Who to be."
MY CHILD STRUGGLES. HE NEEDS PURPOSE BEYOND VENGEANCE.
"You be part of The Web," Peter said simply. "You be our brother. Our teammate. Our family. Let us be the bridge you walk across to find yourself again."
Eddie's eyes went slightly damp. "You're a good kid, Peter Parker. Better than I was at your age. Better than I am now."
"Nah. You're pretty great. You fought for six months to save your symbiote. Never gave up. Never stopped believing. That's not just good—that's heroic."
PETER IS CORRECT. EDDIE BROCK IS WORTHY. HE PROVED IT THROUGH SUFFERING. THROUGH PERSEVERANCE. THROUGH LOVE.
"Venom says you're worthy," Peter relayed. "Both of them—mine and yours—agree."
Eddie wiped his eyes roughly. "Damn symbiotes making me emotional."
"Blame them. I do."
I HEARD THAT.
You were supposed to.
They sat in comfortable silence until Gwen and MJ appeared, both wearing workout clothes.
"Boys' bonding time over?" Gwen asked. "Because MJ and I want to spar. We need to test something."
"Test what?" Peter asked.
"Whether I can handle both of you at once."
The training room went very quiet.
"Phrasing," MJ said dryly. "She means in combat. Not... the other thing."
Peter's face burned. Eddie was trying very hard not to laugh.
HUMANS AND THEIR MATING LANGUAGE CONFUSION. ENDLESSLY AMUSING.
"Right. Combat. Obviously." Peter stood quickly. "Eddie and I can definitely spar with you. In a fighting way. With punching."
"Please stop talking," Gwen said, though she was smiling. "Just fight us. We want to test MJ's new combat training against enhanced opponents."
What followed was twenty minutes of controlled chaos. Gwen and MJ worked surprisingly well together—MJ's tactical thinking complementing Gwen's raw power. They didn't win, but they held their own longer than expected.
"Not bad," Eddie admitted after MJ nearly took his legs out with a sweep kick. "You've got instincts."
"I've got desperation and spite," MJ corrected. "It's basically the same thing."
They were cooling down when Harry arrived, looking excited.
"Tony Stark's package just arrived. You need to see this."
In the equipment room, a large crate bearing the Stark Industries logo sat waiting. Norman opened it carefully, revealing sleek black cases inside.
Peter opened his case first. Inside was a suit unlike anything he'd seen—impossibly thin material that shimmered like oil, black with red accents, clearly designed to integrate with his symbiote.
"There's a note," Gwen said, holding up a card.
Peter read it aloud: "'Parker—this suit is made from unstable molecules bonded with nano-tech. It'll work with your symbiote, not against it. Bulletproof, fireproof, and idiot-proof—which you'll need. The web-shooters are upgraded with my tech. More range, more options, less chance of you embarrassing yourself. There's one for your girlfriend too. Tell her I said hello. And try not to die. Pepper would be sad. - Tony.'"
"He made me a suit too?" Gwen opened her case, revealing white and silver material that sparked with embedded tech.
"He made all of us suits," Harry said, opening more cases. "Eddie, Norman, even me. And there's equipment. Web-shooters, comms, tactical gear. This is millions of dollars worth of tech."
"Why?" Peter asked. "Why is Tony Stark giving us this?"
"Because you impressed him," Norman said quietly. "And because despite all his ego and wealth, Tony Stark is a hero. He recognizes other heroes. He supports them."
THE IRON MAN HONORS STRENGTH. HONORS SACRIFICE. HE GIVES THESE GIFTS AS RECOGNITION.
Peter held the suit, feeling the weight of expectation. Tony Stark believed in them. The Avengers believed in them. The public—mostly—believed in them.
Now they just had to keep believing in themselves.
[2000 HOURS - ROOF, AGAIN]
Peter and Gwen returned to their spot on the roof as the sun set over Manhattan. The city looked almost normal—if you ignored the smoke still rising from where Alchemax Tower used to stand.
"So," Gwen said, leaning against him. "We're famous vigilantes now. There's fanfiction about us. Tony Stark is our benefactor. We have uniforms. Are we officially superheroes?"
"I think we officially crossed that line when we fought super-soldiers in a ballroom full of billionaires."
"Fair point." Gwen was quiet for a moment. "My dad called earlier. He saw the news. He knows I was there."
"Is he angry?"
"Terrified. Proud. Angry. Terrified again. It's complicated." Gwen sighed. "He wants me home. Wants to talk. Wants to understand how his little girl became someone who fights monsters."
"What are you going to tell him?"
"The truth. That I'm not his little girl anymore. I'm someone who chose to be more. Who chose to help. Who chose you." She looked up at Peter. "He'll hate it. But he'll accept it. Eventually."
"My Aunt May doesn't know yet. She thinks I'm at a science retreat. I need to tell her. Soon. She deserves to know."
"Telling family is the hardest part," Gwen agreed. "Because they'll worry. They'll be scared for us. And we can't promise we'll be safe."
"No. But we can promise to be careful. To be smart. To come home when we can."
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the city they'd saved—a city full of people who didn't know how close they'd come to disaster. People living normal lives, going about their evenings, complaining about traffic and taxes and whether the Yankees would win the pennant.
Normal. Something Peter and Gwen would never be again.
But looking at Gwen—her face illuminated by city lights, her smile soft and content—Peter didn't regret it.
They'd chosen this life. This power. This responsibility.
And they'd chosen each other.
That was enough.
"Hey Peter?" Gwen said softly.
"Yeah?"
"When you were holding up that building, when I thought I might lose you to the power—I realized something."
"What?"
"That I can't live without you. Not because of the symbiote bond, though that's part of it. But because you make me better. Braver. More willing to take risks and trust in impossible things." She turned to face him fully. "I love you. Completely. Terrifyingly. Forever."
Peter's heart felt too large for his chest. "I love you too. Even when you electrocute me."
"That was ONE time and it was an ACCIDENT."
"I'm just saying, foreplay should probably not involve electrocution—"
Gwen kissed him to shut him up, and Peter felt their symbiotes celebrating the connection, felt the city humming around them, felt the future stretching ahead—uncertain, dangerous, full of impossible challenges.
But they'd face it together.
Always together.
THIS IS GOOD. THIS IS RIGHT. YOU HAVE FOUND YOUR MATE. YOUR PURPOSE. YOUR FAMILY.
Yeah. We really have.
NOW STOP MATING ON THE ROOF. IT IS COLD. YOU WILL REGRET THIS WHEN YOU CATCH HUMAN ILLNESSES.
Killjoy.
PRACTICAL. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.
Far below, in the briefing room, MJ was uploading her exclusive Spider-Man interview. Ned was designing new tech based on Stark's gifts. Norman was planning the next training session. Harry was video calling his father, both of them laughing about something.
Eddie sat alone in his room, his symbiote wrapped around him like a blanket, both of them finally at peace after six months of suffering.
The Web had survived its first real test.
They'd face more. Bigger threats. Worse enemies. Impossible odds.
But tonight, they were together. They were whole. They were family.
And that was worth fighting for.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
Tonight brought rest, laughter, love, and the certainty that whatever came next, they'd face it as one.
The Web endured.
And Peter Parker, fifteen-year-old kid from Queens who got bitten by an alien-enhanced spider, had found exactly where he belonged.
Right here. Right now. With the people who'd become his family.
With the symbiote who'd become his partner.
With the girl who'd become his everything.
Perfect.
TO BE CONTINUED...