Spider-Man. The House Of Venom

The next day MJ still hadn’t returned home. Gwen could only shrug and try to reach her again, but Peter was getting worried. He knew Harrison had a temper, and he could only hope that being in a hospital would curb it to spare MJ.

All he could do was bite back the anger. There was no use in fighting imaginary battles until he had reason to. So instead he kept them both busy.

Gwen huffed as she counted, it wasn't fair but Peter was adamant.

If she wanted to gain better control of her powers, she needed better control of her body. So he started her on the same training that he did.

"One hundred,” she said as she lifted herself up one last time. She was doing pull-ups from a support beam in the warehouse roof. Peter was across from her, as he had been doing this for almost a month. His routine was four hundred, and he still managed to outpace her.

The routine they started together was a basic fitness course. One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats, and a ten-kilometre run. Peter said he read it somewhere, but as Gwen browsed the internet to find it, he had a small smirk on his face.

"Gwen, you need to control your powers and your symbiote, you're its master, not the other way round." He had scolded her. It was fine when Poison was sleeping, but awake she was constantly asking Gwen to have sex with him or to eat. They both agreed that while they weren't bad, she needed a better grip before college started. More importantly, before MJ got home.

Which was why she was doing physical training. It was easy enough to explain. Who didn’t want a little exercise? The more power-based training would take place on the roof, once it was dark.

Gwen had already been experimenting with her webbing,

Spurty spurts is boring, get Pete to do it. Poison huffed, but Gwen continued.

No, you little shit, I want cords like Petes, not this watery crap. Make it properly,

Muuhhhhhh, Poison groaned, but it still came out like a liquid.

It took her a few hours of practice. Filling any spare container she could find until it was rope-like. It was still elastic and was useless for anything but it bounced and stretched like rubber,

Can I make this from different things?

Hmph, Poison replied, still upset, don’t care, do what you want.

Gwen concentrated. She knew the line was generated by Poison, who had altered her wrist to produce it through her sweat glands. Unlike Peter, who had some kind of reservoir in his arm now, she needed to change Poison and extrude her as a fluid.

With practice so far she had made a caustic web, a stretchy rubber web, and a cement-like web. As she went over the organic chemicals in her mind she knew she could produce more toxin materials. The problem was then that she risked causing malnutrition or mineral deficiencies. Even if Poison complained, a healthy diet of fruit, meat, and vegetables was on the cards.

See, if we work together, we can do anything, Gwen cheered Poison on in her mind,

Hmph, boring!

Now her webbing could be made into any chemical she knew but its tensile strength was still abysmal. Even trying to imagine it corded made no difference,

If you’re doing that on purpose, I swear,

Not doing nothing, shut up boring Gwen.

Poison, we need to learn. If we don’t we can’t keep up with Pete. Dont you want him to do things with us?

Hmph, he did, but you chased him away, and started making goo. Look.

Gwen lifted her wrist in time as a spray shot out and hit the wall of the home they were in. Gwen watched as the paint bubbled.

“Shit!” she yelled and scrambled to find something to neutralise it. “Pete, help!” she shouted.

Running in, he saw the mess she had been making and the mark on the wall, “yeah. You’re banned from doing that in the house.” As he saw Gwen's face fall he chuckled, “Dont make me ground you, young lady.”

Gwen stuck her tongue out at him, “I’m trying to get my webbing like yours. How do you do it?”

Peter shrugged, “it’s always been like that. I can’t make acid though, so maybe it's Poison?”

Yes yes, praise us more, now strip and give us the wooshes.

“But, what's her armour like?” he asked, “I can take a pretty good hit, and thicken it into plates. That might be less messy.” he said as he scrapped a fingernail over the damaged paint, “and less costly.”

Gwen stood and let Poison cover her. “Hit me and find out.”

She tensed and Peter shook his head, “I don’t need to hit you.” a portion covered his hand, and he grew out a long fingernail, “hold still.”

Poison screeched as he drew it across her skin. It had barely cut her but Gwen tried to wriggle free.

“Oh come on, that was barely a scratch.”

Hmph no like Pete anymore, get a new man, a nicer man, one who doesn't hurt us.

Gwen cradles her arm, “No, really.” He took his own fingers, lengthened his nails and stabbed them down into his arm, “that shouldn't have hurt.”

"Of course it hurt, you asshole," Gwen complained, "if Poison is alive then, of course it'll hurt if you cut me."

She had still watched in fascination as the small cut healed almost instantly. She still needed to make him feel guilty of course. Guilt brought kisses and kisses often led to other things.

“No. This. The sex. She’s overly sensitive. I don’t think you should come out and help,” he said as the symbskin slid back from both of them. “I mean, if a little cut does that, you’ll get worse out there.”

Gwen huffed and leaned back against the counter.

“You still have to train though,” Peter leaned over and kissed her cheek, “with the pastries you eat, she’ll get fat.”

Gwen gritted her teeth, “I am not fat!” 

As she lunged for him, he grabbed her waist and spun her around, “Nope, that's why I said you’d get fat. So, you still need to train.” She just crossed her arms and huffed. “Look. If you can do the obstacle course by the end of the week, I'll match our last bet, and you can do whatever you want."

Gwen was ecstatic and Poison was vibrating under her skin. She could feel its lust for him as almost palpable compared to her own.

"Really? Anything?" she smiled as she asked.

Peter nodded, “anything.”

Gwen took off. She had done the one hundred sit-ups, and still had the run to do, but with incentive, she was going to do it,

And you’ll behave. I’ll earn this, and I want to damn well enjoy it.

"But if you fail, then I get to do what I want, and the little monster is off sweets as well."

Gwen's fists unconsciously clenched,

no! not my treaty treats! Run, run and get the sweets! Poison shouted.

While Gwen ran around the walkways of the warehouse, Peter had his problems to deal with.

He knew that Electro had used enough power to take down an elephant. But it was the combination of the sound, the light, and the electricity that had stunned him.

While they both knew he didn’t have a conscious symbiote creature like Poison he still had the powers of one. More importantly the vulnerabilities. He had to laugh though. Everyone was vulnerable to being electrocuted and bright lights. Flashbangs were created for that very reason. He just needed to find a way to overcome them.

He had enhanced senses, so much so that he could feel the air move as Gwen trained. Even if he closed his eyes he could hear her heartbeat. The air was filled with her scent, and the sweat as it beaded between her perfect breasts was apparent to him. He needed a filter. Something to protect him from over-stimulus. At least until he learned and adapted to his powers fully.

First was a headset. He'd finished the design and it sat comfortably around his neck. He had designed it to unfold and cover his face. It was a simple hood with two sound-muffling earbuds, and two polarised tinted lenses.

He needed to pull it up onto his face but once he extended his symbskin it fit perfectly. His mask had adapted to the under armour and he wondered if his symbiote was as dead as they thought. When he slid his armour out over it, it formed around it perfectly. Even smoothing out the material and removing any folds. His mask changed as well. It now had two white eyes that stared wide and narrowed to points. White crescents where the lenses sat underneath.

The white membrane thickened and thinned as he adjusted the lens. Matching the polarisation of the headset. He had looked for one online. There was nothing that suited his budget or his requirements unless he went for a full helmet.

It took him a bit of getting used to. His hearing was muted and his voice crackled every now and again. That was more to do with a misplaced solder or misaligned circuit than a faulty speaker. As prototypes went, it worked even if it wasn't perfect.

Next, he worked on a grounding system.

He began by studying kevlar and ceramic plating used in military and police body armour. From there he practised making a second layer under the first.

After several failed attempts he just admitted defeat. A second skin over the first then over his own was too bulky and rubbed uncomfortably. So he opted for the costumed menaces idea.

He bought a skin-tight bodysuit. Cotton cloth, pitch black and easily hidden under his clothes.

He carefully wove thin wire into the suit, stitching it tightly to the underside. Once he had the headset and the undersuit on and armoured up he couldn't feel any different to normal. His symbskin tightened and smoothed out any wrinkles and if he was honest, he couldn't feel it.

As they wound down for the evening, both checked their phones there was no sign of MJ. The messages they had sent had gone unread, and calls were still going unanswered.

Harrison had kept her at the hospital for two days now. It wasn’t looking great, and Peter knew if she wasn’t home by tomorrow night., He would go find her.

⁂

After work the next day, he finished his two experimental pieces of equipment. It was fine to test these in the warehouse. Peter had already thought of excuses. They could be passed off as an insulated body suit and a noise-cancelling headset.

He wasn't going to be working on anything in the main area. But as he was building the deck, he decided to add a second story to his place. It had extended into two more offices, which once added had changed his place into a block of four. Two across and two up.

He used spare wood and a staircase sat to the right-hand side of the door. Above, in the two offices, he had just left the space empty and filled it with chairs and tables for work.

With the headset done, it was now the undersuit's turn to be tested.

"Okay, hit me,” Peter said.

Gwen hid behind a thick sheet of steel with headphones and welders goggles on. She pressed a button and smelt the thick ozone filling the warehouse. The taser discharge was bright and loud after Peter rewired and upped the amperage on it. After counting to five she shut the weapon down again.

"Pete?" She called out. "Shit, I can't hear you. Pete, I'm taking these off okay?"

She was yelling but didn't know it. She hit the switch again to power the taser off completely. Once she was sure it was safe, she stuck her head around the metal plate she had been hiding behind.

Peter was smoking, and not in a good way. Steam and burned skin flaked off his body. Where the electricity had touched him was charred but intact. The lenses had tinted black but he could still see. It had worked.

His voice clicked, strange through the tinny speaker, "I'm fine, that worked, I didn't feel it."

Gwen sighed with relief. She knew they needed to train but shooting her boyfriend with a modified taser wasn't part of that plan.

After the experiments and training were over, they tidied up. While Gwen took the trash out to the recycling, Peter made them coffee and grabbed some snacks.

Peter sat at the huge table with his sketchbook in front of him. He made up several designs for body armour that Poison could wear either over or under her symbskin. He had planned to make a suit for Gwen as well and armouring it seemed like a good idea. If Poison was insistent on helping him she needed more armour than he did.

Weapons were scrapped. Poison could copy his own claws and even form rudimentary blades. Of course, she complained whenever she hit something.  With no precision machinery, it would be too easy to make something faulty or dangerous. The idea was shelved, at least until Gwen and Poison got over her reluctance to fight.

Not that she needed to. Gwen was happy to train, and as long as Poison got her treats, she was happy to let her. Her demands seemed more like a petulant child. Unwilling but capable of eating anything, but only wanting sweet things. Gwen would need to learn to control her before that got out of hand.

The undersuit worked, the headset was working, and everything was going to plan.

MJ still hadn’t answered her phone or made any signs of coming home, Peter had gone past worried and into angry. It was now time to make someone's life miserable.