I am Venom

You were doing a sleepover at the Parker’s house with Betty, Ned, MJ, and of course, Peter.

May was out of town on a trip and would be coming back in two days, but she had given the okay for the new tradition of sleeping over at someone’s house before the last day of school. 

The five of you had finally fallen asleep somewhere along your legendary Star Wars marathon that Ned and Peter insisted on when they learned that you had never seen the movies. 

Despite MJ’s grumbling and Betty’s hesitance, everyone was enjoying the movies, or at least the company.

Betty fell asleep first, leaning on Ned’s shoulder with their backs resting up against the base of the couch. Ned, not wanting to move and disturb her, had fallen asleep shortly after, lasting maybe another hour.

MJ made it almost as long as you did falling asleep sometime around 1:43.

You had fallen asleep a little later and a decent amount of time before Peter but drifted in out from time to time.

--------

When Peter was sure Y/N was asleep he carefully shifted and adjusted your positions.  Reluctantly he slipped his hand out of where you had grabbed it and refused to let go during a particularly dramatic scene so he could put his arm around you instead. 

It was so Y/N would sleep more comfortably, he told himself. You shifted, your face turned towards him burying itself in the crook of his neck. 

He felt your warm breath gently ghost across his skin and he couldn’t help the dorky smile that worked its way onto his face along with a blush he absolutely refused to admit was there. 

Peter looked down at your face, sleep-smoothed and peaceful. 

Slowly, careful not to jostle you in the slightest, he brought his other hand up and softly brushed your Y/H/C locks behind your ear. 

When Y/N shifted and mumbled something in her sleep, he froze.

But you didn’t wake. At least not fully, Instead, you nuzzled closer, lured in by his warmth. 

He didn’t last to the end of the movie, lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of your breathing and the thought of not minding if he fell asleep to that very sound forever.

—— 3:17 AM ——

There is blood everywhere. On your clothes, on your hands, your face and in your hair, your tentacles are clawing at the air behind you trying to latch onto something, anything, but all you could smell was the harsh metallic odor. 

You’re crying, sobs tearing themselves from your throat and ripping you apart. 

You're watching the kids you knew in Three Streams, you watch as each of them gives themselves over to the drugs and the madness. 

You're frozen on the spot, wide teary eyes just watching the scene unfold before you. Your mind, your instincts, all of you is screaming at you to move, to do something, anything, but your body is still not moving.

"Look what you did," a voice whispered to you. The voice of your once best friend, who had volunteered to become part of the very experiment designed to kill you. 

You could still remember ripping yourself free from the restraints and destroying everything in your path, desperate to get away. Your new powers had raged through the base, destroying wires and piping, it took you a while but you finally figured out that you’d probably caused the explosion in your haze of anger. 

The laughter rang through the empty hallways, you always loved their laugh but now it sounded cold and empty. Like the person inhabiting the body, your best friend’s body, had shriveled up and died and something or someone new had taken over. "Look at all this! This massacre is all your fault. Don’t you see why you deserve to die? Why did I volunteer to help save the world from you? To kill you?”

You shook your head frantically.

"This is not real, it's all in my head. It wasn’t my fault it wasn’t Venom’s fault it was out of my control. It wasn’t our choice. It wasn’t our fault. There’s nothing I, either of us, could’ve done. THere's nothing I can do to change it either." You squeezed your eyes shut.

The scene changes your family, the avengers, die over, and over, and over again. 

"Oh, but darling, of course, this is real," you wanted to scream but everything in you hurt. "this is all your fault! This is why you have no family, why no one will protect you." the husk of your best friend, Oliver, sing songed. 

[I chose Oliver as the name because I don’t know an Oliver, and I googled a common name and I don’t want to keep saying “Your best friend” or put in Y/BFF/N so feel free to substitute a new name].

You jerk awake with a gasp, tears streaming down your face and you’re heavily sweating. Quietly you slip away from the others, out from Peter’s arms that had wrapped around you while the two of you slept.

Your throat feels dry and you cannot stop crying for a solid eight minutes, making your way towards the fire escape relying on your hearing and sense of smell rather than your blurred vision to make sure you didn’t hit anything or wake anyone up.

It felt so real that you still weren’t sure if it was real or not. 

Why did you suddenly have this nightmare? You hadn’t had it in years. 

Carefully you unlatched the window leading to the fire escape. Slipping out the window and into the warm summer night.

You quickly morphed into Venom, letting a large set of bat-like wings form, you were too emotionally exhausted to bother with anything like feathers that might've made you seem slightly less terrifying.

Dropping off the roof you let the soft wind catch you and slow your fall before finally beginning to flap leisurely, allowing you to ascend.

Careful to avoid any of the busier or well let sections of the city you glided between buildings, looped the few bridges you passed, and even made a detour to the Statue of Liberty. 

You had even let your face be uncovered during the emptier and darker parts of your flight. The wind gently wiped the remaining tears from your eyes and cheeks as it playfully ruffled your hair.

Turning back you found yourself landing gently on the helipad of the tower, banishing your wings from your form you wandered over to one of the security cameras and offered a wave to FRIDAY.

Tonight, or well, last night technically was the monthly team bonding night at the tower, but Wanda and Vision and Sam stayed at their own places saying the tower was a bit crowded (even though only Thor was the addition but you couldn’t blame them, he could be overwhelming). This time it was game night, and after some bickering between the avengers, *cough* Clint and Tony *cough*, it was settled on Clue. Normally you couldn't care less what game was going to be played, all you cared about is being with your newly christened dysfunctional family. But you already had plans for the sleepover so you had bid them goodbye and headed home. 

Spidey had given the ever-creative excuse of homework, honestly, you needed to help him with coming up with less lame-ass excuses even if they were very funny sometimes.

As skilled as the avengers were at their superhero activities, you were always beyond terrified that one day, you'd have to come home to one of your best friends, cousins, aunts, uncles, or dads being dead.

Pepper and Rhodey were away but their jobs were important and not everyone could work their way out of things with the finesse of Tony Stark.

Now, here you are, looking like a mess under your helmet, eyes red and puffy, despite no longer being filled with tears. Some of your family was curled up on the couch but a few were still missing.

Moving quickly you move to the elevator and head down to the labs.

You don’t bother knocking, you know Tony is still working on his damned projects, or looking through a case. Bruce would probably be sleeping down there too, having kept Tony company or waiting on results of whatever new experiment he was trying.

The lab is gently illuminated by the thin light strings on the underside of all the furniture. To no surprise, Tony is seated at one of his various workbenches softly illuminated by the blue hologram that flickered to life as you approached. He was snoring slightly though, which indicated to you that once again your uncle fell asleep at his desk.

You roll your eyes, but you’re a bit more reassured that one of your family members is still alive. 

Turning away you work your way over to Bruce’s section. 

You lightly shake Bruce awake, knowing if you wake Tony he wouldn’t fall asleep again.

"Bruce, go to your bed," you whisper softly. "you'll be more comfortable there."

Bruce cracks open one of his eyes and closes it almost as soon as it opens.

"Ven?" he asks, head still clouded with sleep. "What are you doin'?" he murmurs, slightly slurred.

If he were more awake, he would have noticed the slight trembling in your hands. But he isn’t and he doesn’t. So you help him get to his makeshift bed in the lab for when things like this happen and tuck him in, just like you’ve seen Natasha do when he naps after Hulk makes an appearance.

"Just checking up on you," you gently pat his head. "Goodnight uncle Bruce, uncle green."

A small smile tugs at his lips and he gave a small "goodnight" and just like that he was out like a light once again.

You leave the room and head to Nat’s room. This one can be a little tricky. She knows she’s a light sleeper, well all of them are light sleepers, but Nat is a light sleeper at another level. Like you, she was used to jumping awake at the slightest hint of danger.

You knock gently, not wanting a loaded gun under your chin as soon as you open the door.

"Nat, it's me," you whisper. "don't pull a gun out, don't pull a knife out." You pray to yourself.

To your surprise, Nat is sitting in bed, flicking on the light with a tired little sigh that if you didn’t know her better you would’ve thought as irritated.

"котёнок, do you know what time it is?" She asks. [kitten]

You smile softly at the term of endearment.

"I'm sorry лев," you say sincerely. "I'm just checking up on you." You add. [lion]

Nat frowns and looks at your posture, the fact you had lowered some of your modulation meant you were emotional and without your face, it was difficult to read exactly what you were feeling but your posture screamed sorrow.

"She’s been crying, why?" She asks herself.

Hesitating at first. She’s not good with comforting yet, but she is learning. Ven, Clint, and Bruce made sure she was learning how to deal with emotions when there is too much to feel at once instead of shoving them away. She never used to have time for that, only ever was able to feel fear and pain during all her years in the red room.

She can ask what is wrong with Ven out of politeness. Not really ready to be vulnerable enough to admit to herself she is worried something happened to her niece.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

Ven twitches slightly in surprise. Of course, she’s not alright. But this is Nat, a super spy and former assassin, who already saw how shitty the world can be without the added weight being someone’s scientific pet project.

"Yes," you lie, you know Nat knows that you’re lying. "I'm glad you're alive." You then say.

This time, Nat is surprised, even if she doesn’t show it. "Glad I’m alive?" She frowns. "That’s an unusual thing to say." In all her research Nat hadn’t seen a phrase like this so she responds with the only thing she can think of that seems right. "I'm glad you're alive too."

The lower half of the motorcycle helmet melts and she sees how brightly Ven smiles. Even in a poorly lighted room, and with gleaming fangs, your smile brightens it. A warm feeling swarms in her body, she said the right thing.

You walk over to Nat and slowly tucks her back in bed.

"Are you sure you are alright?" She asks again.

"Yes," you still lie. "go back to sleep, goodnight auntie." you kiss her forehead and exit the room.

Leaving Nat confused and slightly pleased with herself, despite all her training she was still learning to be human.

Three out of the six missing from the couch huddle are alive and well. You head to Pietro’s room now. You know he is the heaviest sleeper among the team members.

You still knock twice and when all you smell is nothing, you panic a little.

You enter the room and check for any danger. Then looking over to Pietro’s massive bean bag chair that he used as bed you saw him. Sprawled all over the bed snoring like a chainsaw. It was a wonder you did not hear anything when you were standing outside his door, but you guess it was truly a testament to how much Tony valued the team's privacy.

Walking over to his side of the bed and fixing the blanket over his shoulders. You smile at his content sigh. Despite being the older of the two Maximoff twins he was still like a child in some manners.

Patting him gently on the shoulder you slip out the door and head to your dads’ room.

You figure they’re sleeping and enter without knocking, just like you did with Bruce and Tony.

Steve and Bucky are sleeping on their bed, Bucky has his metal hand tucked under his pillow and he didn't look like he was breathing. 

You panic, and despite knowing not to, you all but run over to your dad.

Just as you reach over to check his pulse on his throat, he snatches your wrist in his flesh hand and the barrel of his gun is pressed underneath the jaw of your helmet by his metal one.

The small gasp you let out wakes Steve too, and as soon as Bucky recognizes the sound as his unofficial daughter’s gasp, drops the gun down onto the pillow and snaps his eyes to your face, or well helmet.

"Holy shit, принцесса, I could have killed you!" he hisses. "I'm sorry, are you alright?" he asks, worriedly running his hand over your helmet. [princess]

Steve shoots up at the Russian endearment paired with the word “killed”. Spinning to look at you and you can practically see him getting ready to go into Captain America before something changes in his eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine, I should have seen it coming." You joke as your helmet gives way.

Your dad smiles but his smile drops when he sees the hunched frame and the way you aren’t looking at him.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had plans? What happened? Why are you upset?” he pauses before snarling “did someone hurt you?”

Contrary to popular belief, Bucky can be even more of a mother hen than Steve when it comes to you and your safety. I mean, yes Steve is definitely the mom friend, but Bucky? Oh, Bucky is the definition of the mother hen.

"Nothing, I just had a nightmmph-" you didn’t have the time to end your sentence when Bucky is pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. When you feel another set of arms around you you know Steve has decided to make it a family hug.

"Oh my god, are you alright? Do you need anything? Do you-" Steve begins. 

You break the embrace and smile at them, letting your helmet melt into your Venom face.

"I'm fine pops," you say. "I had to check up on all of you." 

Their faces soften even more and they quickly haul you up to sit in between them. For some reason, this begins the tears again and small white rivulets run down from your eyes before slowly fading to black.

"Sweetheart?” Steve says, “can you tell us how to help?” He notices you lightly shaking and his entire being goes into dad mode.

He effortlessly drags you into yet another hug, practically smothering you.

Bucky runs a soothing hand up and down your back. After a few minutes, you let out a long shaky breath and wipe your tears.

"Sorry." You mutter.

"You wanna talk to us about why you are crying in the middle of the night?" Bucky asks.

You wince and sight.

"I had a nightmare," you whisper fiddling with their blankets "and not a small nightmare. A really really bad nightmare."

Bucky relaxes. He can deal with nightmares. He's been dealing with them for years. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Steve sees you hesitate but you let out a sigh and face Bucky.

"Y-you and pops, the team, you-" your breath hitches “there was blood everywhere Dad." The tears stream down faster as you slump into him.

Bucky's heart breaks and he embraces their daughter again. He had the same nightmare almost every night, someone he cared for dying and he was standing, powerless. Worse yet, dead by his own hand, the haunting images of waking up from HYDRA’s control even though Stark took the words out long ago, to find his hands strangling his love or their daughter.

"You were all d-dead. A-and it was m-my fault." You sob against your dad's chest. Not noticing the exchanged looks of sorrow between your fathers.

"It was just a nightmare, Doll, we're alright," Steve mumbles as he squeezes your hand.

Bucky’s feeling guilty for the pain he causes daughter, he’d never thought he’d find a family after HYDRA but Steve had found him and brought him to the avengers. It had taken months but he became part of the team and when you’d first shown up he hadn’t liked you. At all. But now he couldn’t think of any reason not to. You had helped him embrace the Russian when you never showed any shame for your past or powers, and when you had helped him and Steve get together he realized just how much the two of you meant to him. When he had told Steve, mumbling in a mix of Russian and English as he said he wanted to adopt you, the enthusiastic agreement he had received had led him and Steve to ask you right on the spot if they could adopt you. Not knowing your face and knowing they might never, you had become their daughter, his daughter, part of his world. 

Every day he worried over you getting hurt in combat or how your civilian life was going since he knew next to nothing about it despite you telling them everything you could the lack of names made it rather empty. He knew Steve was just as worried but Stevie wasn’t the emotional wreck, that was Bucky’s job and he had taken it on with more dedication than he liked.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, куколка." He kisses the crown of her head. [little doll]

"'S alright, I'm okay now," she reassures him with a small smile.

“Alright,” Steve says “if you want to spend the night in here, you are welcome anytime doll, remember that," he says as he cradles your helmet-encased head between his hands.

You hug them both one last time before slipping out of bed and fully transforming into one of your slightly larger forms, slinking towards the door you hesitate just before leaving.

"Goodnight dad, pops. Love you." You say minimizing your signature drawl as you exit the room. Pretending not to hear the squeal of delight that came from your pops at your first admission of the word. 

When you leave the tower you decide to leave the same way you came in.

Bidding FRIDAY a cheerful “goodnight” and requesting her to delete the footage of you landing and leaving; you launch yourself into the sky.

You shot off like a bullet, you’d been gone for a while and if Peter realized you weren’t asleep he’d searched the apartment. With his Spidey-sense, he would be able to tell you weren’t there and you really didn’t need him calling the Avengers in a panic to help him look for you.

You carefully lower yourself onto the roof, ensuring there isn’t even a breath of dust disturbed as you land and de-transform. It really was a good thing there were no cameras in the neighborhood.

You smoothly slide off the roof and land on the fire escape with a soft clang. You barely have time to turn around when the window slides open and you're dragged into yet another tight hug. Seriously you were pretty sure you hadn’t been hugged this much in your life.

“Where were you?” Peter’s voice cracked on the were and you felt a lump rise in your throat that you quickly swallowed down.

“I was on the roof, I had a night- a bad dream.”

The relief that crept into his hushed “oh” and flooded his scent had a small knot of guilt coiling in the pit of your stomach.

He wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t admit it, but when he had woken up and you were gone he had panicked. 

He had searched the apartment twice over as his mind spun tales about how you had realized you were better off without them, without him. How he had failed to protect you and you were dead in an alley somewhere. How he had done something to hurt you.

Anything and everything that could go wrong was all he could think of, his Spidey Sense went haywire whenever he was around you so its deathly silence scared him. His spidey sense went off around people he cared about and most of the avengers, it never said anything like danger, just power or safety or whatever it was he felt around you. 

He was so relieved to see you safe, to know that you hadn’t abandoned him, that he could barely get the words out when he heard you land on the fire escape. He tried not to squeeze too hard but he hugged you as tight as he thought was acceptable, only loosening his grip slightly when he felt Y/N’s wrap around him gently as if shielding him from his own anxieties.

You weren’t sure how long he held you like that but you do remember your emotional exhaustion finally taking its toll. When gently slid an arm behind your back and another beneath your knees you did nothing except lean into him. 

He lifted you with little trouble and ever so gently helped you get back through the window and worked his way back towards the couch. 

You curled into him and Peter felt a surge of warmth in his chest, all the troubles that had plagued him earlier in your absence were soothed. Y/N was safe, she was comfortable and content with him and leaned into him oh so trustingly. She trusted him to keep her safe without even knowing he was Spider-Man. She trusted him for who he was and when he finally set you back down onto the couch and dropped next to her, he wrapped his arms around her once again and the two of you drifted off. 

--------

You had just finished the last day of school and were just about ready to create a bonfire and torch every single reminder of the hell hole that was High School when the alert system pinged your phone. 

Shelter Alert:

Sectors 7 and 8 in Brooklyn please head to the nearest designated shelter if safe to do so, if it is not a shelter in place and remain there until you receive further instruction.

Whelp looks like your bonfire is going to have to wait. Besides, your friends thought you had already left for your month-long road trip to California and back the “Old fashioned way” without any technology, so you couldn’t stay at your apartment long.

You quickly climb out the trapdoor you had put in your closet leading to the roof, the perks of being on the top floor even if the elevator wasn’t always working which wasn’t really an issue to someone like you, and launch yourself into the air. Quickly catching yourself and swinging over to the Brooklyn and Queen sector borders.

This was the beginning of the new three days, 

You dropped down between your dads, snatching the com unit they always carried for you, you morphed an opening and let it rest inside your human ear, ensuring it wouldn’t be lost and that you could hear them.

“I’ve got civilians on the third floor of the building to my right your left Speedy Gonzales.” is the first sound that greeted you. 

Pietro couldn’t deal any sufficient damage to the misshapen blobs that swarmed the city so often now. In fact, Wanda and Vision couldn’t do much against them either. Physical blows were the only way to take them down, so anyone who couldn’t go into hand-to-hand combat with them or at least knock them back for a while was on civilian rescue duty. Even Tony’s repulsers had been replaced by flares and missiles because his blasts were just absorbed and redirected like the living jellos were energy trampolines.

This left your dads, Spidey, the hulk, and you to do the heavy hitting up close and personal while Clint, Sam, Nat, and Tony would try and use guns and other means to bring them down. 

Blocking out everything around you, you launch yourself at the first white vaguely humanoid blob you can see, letting your sense of smell try and gauge how many there were and how close they were behind you. 

Claws extended from your fingertips and your fangs enlarged as spikes sprouted from your back, enabling you to rip apart all the slug-like creatures with gaping maws that were working their way over the wrecked cars in the streets towards you.

You reverted to your instincts and training.

Combat 101, was the same as Genocide 101 in Three Streams.

Step 1: Sort out who is "them" and "us"

Done. White, them. Everything else, us.

Step 2: get on with killing "them" before "they" have a chance to slaughter "us." 

Working on it.

Step 3: You fight. If you’re injured, you rise again and fight. If you die, you rise again and fight.

“Remember everyone,” your pops said in his Captain America voice “Give up, give in, or give it all you’ve got.”

“Aye-aye captain!” you and Spiderman call as you throw yourselves into the fight.

You lose yourself to the blur of chaos, to the battlefield. 

The only marking of time is the occasional crackling of the coms or any of the sounds of fighting ranging from grunts to shattering glass to screaming civilians to cursing to snarling.

Clint’s voice crackled through the coms as he knocked another arrow and took aim. “Guys… Ven’s being surrounded.”

“I know! Isn’t it great?” you chuckle.

“Is it?” Vision replies sounding incredulous and slightly strained.

“They’re in front of me, behind me, to the left of me, and to the right, I can attack in any direction I choose!” you laugh brightly as you swing your sharpened arm around like a massive sword, easily swiping through the last of the creatures clawing their arms at you.

You all reconvene for a quick snack and water break and speak with the first responders as you get the next alert sending you to Staten Island.

You and Spidey swing across the city with Iron Man, the Falcon, Scarlet Witch, and Vision flying alongside you. The rest of the team was taking the quinjet, deciding not to strain anyone by asking for a lift.

The creatures were slightly more snakelike than slug-like on the bottom this time around, still keeping their almost human upper half, sadly this made them faster and more difficult to kill. 

Working back to back with your dad, each of you watching the other’s six and criticizing each other's fighting styles without any true fire. 

You smell the change in the air and you kick your leg back and up, effectively hitting your dad in the back of his thigh, sending him stumbling forward as you feel a sharp stab in your upper thigh. Well, you think, there goes your tensor fasciae laete. Immediately followed by; damn I’m spending too much time with Sam and Bruce.

Ripping out the post of the stop sign that had decided to make itself a home in your leg you don’t even pause to watch as the hole closes up, acknowledging your dad’s horrified sound with a nod and slightly maniacal smile.

Natasha calls you over the coms on your private channel, “How are you still standing?” 

“Because you guys still need help?” you shout with exasperation coloring your usual drawl, “Or because I want this to be over faster?”

Quickly you send a tentacle to latch onto a lamppost, using it to swing yourself over to Spider-Man who was currently working with Captain America to guard and evacuate a group of civilians that had become stranded in the middle of the field. With three already dead today alone from the semi-humanoid monsters and more injured from the falling rubble from damaged buildings you didn’t want to risk any more lives. 

“How are you still fighting?” Steve yells over the coms sounding only slightly less hysterical than you thought he would, slightly.

“Well pops,” you reply, “rage is one hell of an anesthetic, just ask Bruce.” you nod your head over towards the hulk who was currently in the process of using the mangled remains of a taxi to beat the monsters into the asphalt.

“Hey, Ven?”

“Yeah, Spidey?”

“What’s your count?”

“76” you shoot a tentacle past his shoulder, impaling and then disemboweling a creature that snuck up behind him “77 now, you?”

He grumbled something.

“I’m sorry,” you tease, “can you repeat that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

You could hear the pout in his voice as he repeated himself, “67.”

“Slacker” you laugh before throwing yourself headfirst, quite literally, into a cluster working their way out of the subway.

When the last of them were finally dead, or as good as, the sun had set and you were already dreading what was to come. Sam looked just about ready to collapse and based on the exhaustion in his scent it was a miracle he hadn’t already. Natasha had a sprained wrist and blackened eye from when she had defended Clint when their nest was swarmed. Everyone else seemed okay aside from being exhausted and famished. Tony’s suit had some damage but he had plenty of spares and based on how he was whining it was going to be a minor repair job.

You lean into Spider-Man’s shoulder as your mutation recedes to form your signature helmet, summoning as much energy as you can muster. Nudging Spider-Man in the gut enough to signal to him to pay attention, you cut off Tony’s tirade about the damaged paint job on his suit and you say, “Hey Uncle Tony?”

Tony whirled to you with a spark in his eyes, he always had a soft spot for “the kids of the team” AKA you and Peter, or well Peter and Spider-Man even though everyone knew that Tony knew who Spider-Man was. “Yeah Starlight?”

“Can we get Shawarma?” you ask, letting hope work its way into your voice through your modulator.

“Please Mr. Stark?” Spider-Man goes for the killing blow, the two of you could defeat the whole team just based on the fact everyone loved you guys.

“Of course, I’ll have FRIDAY order enough to feed sixty, and Ben and Jerry’s sent a shipment of Ice Cream for us so Ven you can help yourself to some of that just make sure not to eat too much.”

“Me?” you gasp, putting a hand over your chest to convey your offense, “Eat too much? Never.”

When the team bursts into laughter you smile to yourself, mission accomplished.

 -------- 

You hated everything. 

It was official. 

The first fight of the day was soooo long and quite monotone, which was good since there were minimal injuries and no civilians dead. You were pretty sure of that, you couldn’t smell any yet anyways. 

You had responded to the alert around 6:22 and it was currently 13:53 and the end was finally in sight.

However, you got the joy of having plenty of time to poke fun at Clint.

“Hey, Uncle Clint!”

He squawked “What?” from where his nest was being swarmed without Natasha helping him and working in civilian evac due to her sprained wrist.

You rip a streetlight from the ground and jump your way up to his nest on the 48th floor before using it as a massive golf club to whack the monsters off the ledge. “If you ain’t cheating you ain’t trying!”

“I HAVE A LITERAL BOW AND ARROWS AND THESE THINGS ARE WEIRD HUMAN SLUSHY MONSTER THINGS! NONE OF THIS EVEN MAKES SENSE!” He all but screams at you.

You drop the pole and pat him gently on the head before swan diving off the edge and swinging yourself right back into the middle of yet another wave with a roar of laughter.

Sam, despite his exhaustion due to the fact he was a baseline human, tried to keep morale going. “Rise to the occasion, everybody.”

You snort, “Hell no.”

“Please Ven we know you’re tired-”

“I will not rise to the occasion because I can reliably sink to the level of my training and still kick everyone’s asses” to prove your point you use your tentacles to lift a car, a tree, yet another lamppost, and a random block of concrete. You hurl the concrete and car into the last clump of white that you could see and smell, crushing at least half of them. Then you threw the lamppost like a javelin, slamming through another four before firmly embedding itself in a steel beam.

“What’s the tree for?” 

“Clint said a bow and arrow didn't work,” you grow a bit larger than the Hulk then aim the snapped end through a makeshift bow that your arm and the other three tentacles had morphed into, positioning the leaves as the feathers. 

“I’m simply proving him wrong,” you say as you let the tree fly, effectively decapitating the last monster.

“WELL, I'M SORRY I CAN'T SHOOT TREES LIKE ARROWS,” he shouted looking ready to throw his bow at you but the exasperated amusement wafting off of him said just how entertaining he found it.

“You should be.”

“That. Was. AWESOME!” Spider-Man says as he hangs upside down beside you.

“Thank you, Spidey,” you smile while glaring at Clint. “Finally someone with style.”

The offended gasps and remarks from the team were drowned out as soft rumblings in short succession came somewhere to the north, you pinpoint the direction just as the beginning of smoke drifted up in clouds.

Already on the way you hear Tony call “Alright, break time is over. FRI what’s the situation?”

The ever-helpful and sarcastic AI pipes “It seems the creatures are on the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge.” 

“What’s with the smoke then?” Sam adds as he quickly joins Tony in the flight towards the smoke.

“It seems they have become combustible,” FRIDAY replies smoothly. “They overturned a bus and set the gasoline on fire, the dark smoke you’re seeing is the rubber burning from the spreading fire.”

You land in the middle of what was arguably one of the worst scenes you’d ever seen, including all your time with the Avengers and the Three Streams.

People ran screaming as flames crawled over wrecked cars and the stench of burning rubber and the flesh of those who didn’t manage to escape the flames in time. The white blobs had fused to random surfaces, and you could see the remains of one slowly sinking, melting through the asphalt and steel below before dropping completely out of sight. The accompanying hiss and puff of steam told you it had melted all the way through.

“GET EVERYONE OFF” you roar, barely managing to shield yourself and spiderman with an abandoned car, and out of the corner of your eye you see Steve pull Bucky behind him as another explosion rips the railing fifty or so feet to your left. The force with which the car is slammed into has you hearing a distinct cracking noise from your chest. Ignoring the pain you can see that Spider-Man is nursing his shoulder slightly, it seemed like the car had managed to hit him too but not to the extent it had you.

“Ven!” Nat calls from where she’s helping civilians through some of the smoldering wreckages. “Be careful, you’ve probably got a shattered rib cage!”

“Starlight has what?” Tony squawked, righting himself in the air as you watch your dad whirl around with fire in his eyes, clearly not pleased with the thought of you receiving yet another injury.

“You do know where I came from, an anvil to the head counted as a flesh wound right? This? this is nothing.” you say through only slightly gritted teeth. “We need to get the civilians out of here and then we can focus on making sure this bridge doesn’t blow.”

Quicksilver zips by slowing down just enough to call “Yeah Ven’s right, the civilians are scared and I can only move so fast to ensure they can still breath and all.”

“The burning rubber and other gases will become poisonous as well.” Vision adds helpfully.

You had about a dozen people left to evacuate when you heard Spider-Man quietly gasp “Aunt May.”

Fuck.

That was the only thing you could think as your mind desperately scrambled to figure out what the hell May Parker was doing on this god damned bridge. 

That’s when it hit you. She was on her way back from Newark airport, her flight had landed earlier this morning, Peter had mentioned it when you had asked where she was during the sleepover.

That’s when shit hit the fan.

Because it always did.

The structural damage from the explosions and heat from the fires had finally taken its toll.

The bridge collapses.

Eleven die.

Nine end up with second and third-degree burns.

The other four are more fortunate, with mild burns, and some broken bones.

May has a shattered left calf, and a first-degree burn on the lower left side of her torso.

The totals began to roll in.

One hundred and ninety three are in critical condition.

Almost twice as many had second-degree or higher burns and dangerous amounts of smoke inhalation.

Fifty eight died, most from the initial explosions that had led to the smoke that had drawn you from the first battle.

The partial collapse of the bridge and the damage to the structural integrity of the rest of it puts the damage estimates close to $100 million dollars.

Helicopters are sent to retrieve the dead, no one wanting to risk setting foot on the bridge.

Spidey takes off shortly after the ambulance carrying May leaves, he looks desperate to be by her side and you know the only reason he isn’t yet is that he feared he would put her in more danger if she became associated with Spider-Man.

--- The Next Morning ---

You and your dad were returning from your weekly shopping trip. The two of you went because it was good to show the Avengers acting like normal people and not just superheroes. Besides you needed a distraction, the guilt of the events at the bridge were consuming you.

"Venom! Mr. Barnes!" a grating voice called out from behind you.

You quickly and subtly gestured for your dad to go, despite being free of HYDRA he didn’t interact with the general public without at least two or three days' notice so unscripted surprise interviews were something he avoided like the plague. He shot you a grateful and incredibly apologetic look before all but running away. 

“Excuse me Venom?” the short man with a smell of ego to rival that of Flash and the unmistakable rotting smell of disgust and hatred all but sneered at you. You noticed the camera out of the corner of your eye and you internally slammed your head into a wall.

You almost hated these interviews as much as your dad since the press was notorious for twisting words to suit their fancy and you still hadn't perfected speaking in a manner to avoid it. 

Also, you hated public speaking. 

Like a lot.

"Yes?" you say, continuing to walk at a leisurely pace. Trying to keep your tone relatively neutral but edging more towards the friendly side despite the fact the man in front of you, if you could even call him that. He looked and smelled the part of a rat that crawled from the sewers and something in your gut told you his personality was going to be just as revolting, if not worse.

“Is it true that you deliberately slowed the avengers when it came to rescuing civilians to satisfy your inherent bloodthirstiness and lack of empathy from your time as an experiment?”

That gets you to stop.

You could barely formulate a response through the rage and disgust that claw their way up and around your throat. 

As the seconds tick by you feel bile rise but you know you won’t be able to throw up despite so desperately wanting to.

Inside Bucky hurls his remote at the TV, killing the feed.

You snap back a response and turn on your heel.

It took every thread of your control not to rip his spine out of him through his throat and then beat him with it for even daring to suggest you didn’t care about the casualties.  

That you didn’t care about the people you felt you’d failed.

When you stumble through the doors to the Avengers' main room you're immediately met by the smells of the team, most of them are gathered in the kitchen helping unpack groceries while your pops is trying to soothe your seething dad. 

The sneered “You don't even care, you don’t know what it’s like to almost lose someone. To lose someone.” you barely recognized the overwhelming smell of pain and rage that was coming from Spidey, from Peter, from your friend.     

“I don’t care?” you couldn’t help but snap back, the interview having destroyed the very last emotional barrier you had built around your mind. You think you see the rest of the team stiffen but your vision is blurring around the edges. “I don’t know how it feels? I-”

“NO!” He yells, cutting you off as he stalks towards you. “YOU DON'T KNOW HOW IT FEELS!” 

He pointed at the TV with the remote embedded in it “THAT PROVES YOU WERE RAISED BY THE THREE STREAMS! THAT YOU DON’T GET IT!” 

The thing he yells next makes you flinch. 

“YOUR PARENTS ARE DEAD.”  

“YOU HAVE NO FAMILY” you take a step back, back towards the elevator.

“AND THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT” the fist that slams into the wall just beside your head is barely registered.

Suddenly Oliver was sneering up at you, just like in your nightmare just days earlier. “You have no family. This is all your fault.”

You freeze.

You want to say something back.

You want to stay silent.

You want him to apologize.

You want him to get it over with.

You wait for the smell of regret.

It never comes. 

The rage rolls through the air thicker the longer your silence drags on and you finally bite something back. Your last defense.

Your helmet flickers away as you begin to lose your grip on your emotions.

The watery, self-deprecating chuckle you let out rips through the team like a blade. “Yeah, I guess I don’t.” 

You know he’s hurt but right now so are you and you can’t stop yourself. “After all, I’m just an orphan who means nothing to no one.”

“It’s not like I have friends that I worry about every single fucking second it takes them not to answer my texts after an attack.” 

“It's not like I understand what it's like to worry about losing someone I love because apparently no one worries about me and I shouldn't worry about anyone in turn right?”

“It’s not like I found a family in this team.”

Then you go for the throat, just like you were taught. “It’s not like I thought I found a friend in you.”

You transform fully and stare down at him, “but I guess I was wrong.”

You shouldn’t be satisfied by the flinch that earns you, but the raw, broken, bleeding part of you finally numbs with your calm rage.

You leave.

The avengers remain where they were until FRIDAY shocks them out of it. 

The clip that plays from the hologram she protects is a soft blue hue that’s eerily peaceful after what just transpired.

Your voice breaks through the speakers, the rest of the interview. 

“I wish it was all my fault, I do.”

“I wish I could take the blame for every death that occurred on that bridge.”

“Every death that has happened since these attacks started, every injury, every nightmare.” 

“But I can’t.”

“No one can.” 

“The avengers are strong because at the end of the day we are all human.”

“We go out there and fight what others can’t.” 

“I might’ve been an experiment but that doesn’t mean that I'm no longer human.”

“So how about you answer me this?” 

“While first responders are out trying to help the victims and their families, while the team and I are healing and preparing for the next fight, while the city grieves its children, its daughters, and sons, its brothers and sisters, it’s people, while I will remember every person I couldn’t save, not wouldn’t but couldn’t, where were you?”

“Where were you?” 

“Sitting safely at home while countless others died? Were you writing questions like these in attempt to play up my monstrous form?” 

“While I fought with my family and friends to protect people that we’ve never met but would still lay our lives down for, where were you?” 

“I’ll tell you where you were.” 

“You.”

“Weren’t.” 

“There.” 

“And it wasn’t that you couldn’t be there, you didn’t want to be there and deep down we both know it.”

“So don’t you dare say that I am nothing but a monster until you’ve given yourself a good once over in the mirror.”

The hologram flickers out.

The team stares at where it once was when FRIDAY speaks. “There was another attack.”

Snapping out of their reverie, the team races to get ready but they all freeze when they hear what she says next. 

“Witnesses say Venom went into the building to get the civilians that hadn't made it out yet, and the building collapsed before they came out.”