Another smile, another day you avoid death.

At least that's how it seems to go in your current workplace. Every day you deal with the people no one else wants to deal with, and act as the barrier between a possible serial killer and the other employees. You deter robbers, scare away creeps, and welcome regulars, all with the same flash of white teeth.

A receptionist.

You watch the latest potential customer smile back to you, grab a pamphlet to the business, and walk away. Soon as the door shut behind them you relaxed back into your rolling chair with a sigh, and rubbed at your sore cheeks. Yeah, okay, so maybe this isn't what you pictured your life to be like once you moved to New York, but at least you were lucky enough to nab this job. It paid a couple bucks above minimum wage, came with the illusionary title of "Administrative Assistant," and graciously, all of the free chocolate you cared for.

Which when it came down to it, wasn't that much, but it was the thought that counts.

You grabbed one of the Kisses from the glass bowl next to your computer, deciding that the sugar might help your current mood. Though you still took your time with it, methodically pulling at the loose corners of the silver wrapping to release the chocolate within without tearing the foil. You freed the kiss, sat it on your tongue to melt at its on pleasure, and continued to smooth the wrinkles out of the square foil. Boredom was never in shortage at this job as well, it turns out. But better to be bored and safe than in danger and face to face with a monster.

After aliens attacked New York a few years ago things have been even more strange in the city. New types of hazardous people were showing up more often, it was like playing Freak of the Week every monday. Thankfully the chances of encountering one of the freaks yourself were incredibly small, despite being in New York.

Nobody thinks of robbing a massage therapy business. And why would they? Most customers come in for a few hours and only bring a credit card. At max you handle a few hundred cash every few days, but that gets sent away before building up enough to risk going to jail for. So you were safe, bored, and had very low risk. A dream job by anyone's standards in New York.

"Having fun?" A voice slapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly sat up and put your hand over the perfectly flattened square foil. You looked up to see your boss looking down at you from the other side of the counter.

"Y-yes. I mean, I already finished all of today's paperwork." You quickly adjust your shoulders and look at your boss, motioning to the small folder of client forms next to the computer. "I was just waiting to put them in the file cabinets until later today, when less people are likely to walk in." You clarified quickly, trying to make sure you didn't make your boss regret hiring you.

She eyed the folder with a slight smile, before she walked past the counter to grab her purse. "I'm out for lunch." She said and quickly left you alone once more in reception area. Your eyes followed her out the door and past the window, and you noticed the tv across the walkway showing the news.

Another superhero fight was going on it would seem. It was hard to see with the passersby continuously blocking your view, but from what you could see you could tell Spiderman was the focus. Something blurry and green appeared every few seconds you could actually see the tv, but that only narrowed down the villians to half you knew of. If it even was one of the usuals, hell, it might be someone entirely new.

The door slammed open, causing you to jump in your seat and look to the visitor. A man with a leather jacket -never a good sign- and long black hair glanced into the business a moment before looking back and closing the door as he stepped in. You could feel your chest hammering from the bells ringing in your head, but you bit down your thoughts and stood up at the desk, placing a well practiced smile on your face.

"Hello, how can I help you?" You risked a looking towards the computer, not seeing any new clients for at least the next half hour. The man walked further into the room with the barest hint of a limp, turning his eyes all about, but you noticed that he focused more on the windows than the interior of the room.

So, he was hiding from someone. That wasn't good either.

"Uhh, this is the-" He glanced around again, but you could tell his actions were calculated. It takes an actor to recognize another. "Massage place?" He asked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. You noticed a single bead of sweat on his brow, and the lump in your stomach grew heavier.

"Yep!" You kept your voice high and cheery. Stall for time. If he is hiding from someone, it means someone more dangerous could be coming. It would be better to just wait it out and not draw attention to here. "I don't see anyone on our schedule for a while, so I assume you were looking to book an appointment?"

He thought a moment before adjusting his jacket and speaking up. "Not quite, I was looking for possibly a gift certificate? It's for someone else." The thoughtful pause between his words made his act even more obvious to you. "How much can thirty get me?"

Your smile faltered for a second. He must have never even been in one of these places before if he thought thirty dollars would be enough for anything. "Not much, I'm afraid." You pulled out a pamphlet and opened the flap to show the prices of the massages. "Our half hour option is thirty-eight dollars, and we go up from there. I suppose we do offer a twenty minute chair massage for twenty-five, but if this is a gift I wouldn't recommend that."

"I see." His eyes flashed down the paper faster than you think anyone could actually read, before he pulled it closer to him and leaned against the counter, casually keeping his back to the door. You watched as his baggy eyes glanced past you to the window once more, and he reached into his pocket.

Your anxiety skyrocketed for a moment before he pulled out his wallet and started fingering through the cash. He pulled out two twenties and put them on the desk. "Alright, give me a card for the half hour then." You nodded, quickly reaching back for the envelope and thick cardstock.

"Is there anyone I should make this out to?" You asked, deftly writing in the amount for the card and the date.

"Ah, no don't worry about that. Their name is hard to spell." He said, and you left that part of the card blank.

You looked up to hand him the gift card, "Alrighty, well here you go, Mister…" You waited for his name in the most polite way you could think, just in case. He looked like he was about to answer, when the wall next to you exploded.

The ground hit you hard, but not as hard as the shower of bricks that came crashing down on you. Smoke filled the air with a ringing alarm, but the floor you were on seemed to spin as you desperately tried to hold onto a conscious thought.

What was happening?

You heard voices shouting, and glass breaking. You blinked and blinked, finally clearing your vision enough to see utter chaos outside the window, and where the wall used to be, you noticed. The man was nowhere to be seen, people outside were scrambling around in panic as flames licked the sides of the buildings. Someone covered in green metal towered above and shoved people out of the way, looking wildly around and shouting things too quickly to make out. The ringing sound in the air seemed stronger when he glanced in your direction, and you realized that it wasn't the alarm going off, it was his suit.

He quickly turned around and darted off, the ringing sound quieting when he did. The pain surrounding your body started to register, but you couldn't call out for help. Your mouth opened, only for no sound to escape you. Your vision started to tunnel, and you realized you weren't breathing.

You inhaled, or tried to, and felt your lungs refuse to fill. Your ribs couldn't move, and you realized the overwhelming weight you felt on you were the bricks from the wall, and you couldn't push them off. Trying as hard as you could, you willed for your hand to move to maybe signal someone, but only burning sharp pains replied.

Then you saw him.

Spiderman.

The red suited hero stood out in your blurry view as he stopped between the buildings and looked at the disaster area. You felt your hope rise as the white what you assumed were his eyes turned to your direction. Yes! Over here! You opened your mouth wider, feeling the slightest bit of air enter your lungs. Almost enough for something.

A chunk of darkness fell from the sky, and the blurry spiderman caught it before dropping it beside him, blocking your view to him. No! He didn't notice you. If only you could call out, he could save you! You weazed out a breath, trying not to focus on the building pain threatening to make you black out.

Can save you.

A voice whispered next to you, and you couldn't tell who it was coming from. You started to notice your limbs getting cold, probably blood. You tried to reply. You didn't want to die.

Then live.

The voice spoke again, and you felt the coldness surrounding you even tighter. The edges of the pain started to lift away, and your vision finally turned to darkness. The last thought you had was of the silent disappointment that a hero didn't save you in your one time of need.

.

You gasped out, flailing in your bed and kicking the sheets around your feet, before you fell hard onto the floor of your apartment. You breathed hard, heart hammering in your chest as you sat in a cold sweat. Thoughts raced in your head in too many directions for you to make sense of anything. You were at work moments ago, and there was some creep buying a gift certificate, and then… then… nothing. Your brain reached out for what came next, but there was nothing there.

You looked at your arms, seeing them shake in the nighttime streetlight coming in from outside. They were fine. Why wouldn't they be? You shook your head and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You couldn't remember anything after the man. Were you drugged? You didn't think you would have drank anything around customers, but who knows what else could have possibly happened.

Maybe you just zoned out hardcore at work after that point, and nothing happened. One could hope at least. Resting your head in your hands for a moment, you let yourself cool off in the cold night air.

Nothing happened. You were fine. You didn't feel hurt or otherwise wrong. In fact, you felt great. You might work for a massage therapy place, but working on the computer all day always left your shoulders sore, until now apparently. Were you sleeping that good?

Why were you awake anyway? You weren't having a nightmare… Not that you remember your dreams much anymore. You hated waking up in the middle of the night, there was never anything else to do other than scroll social media, and that only kept you awake longer.

But it seemed like it was your only current option to get rid of your jitteriness.

You reached out to your nightstand, only to not feel your phone in its usual spot. You blinked, confused, and reached again. Nothing in the surrounding area. You finally turned on the lamp beside your bed and saw that the stand was empty, no sight of your phone. Could you have forgotten it at work? Very unlikely.

You stood up to look at your jacket, only to now notice you were still in your work clothes. How embarrassing. You were grateful you didn't have any roommates to notice at least.

"Pajamas, then tv." You whispered to yourself, starting a simple to-do list to survive the night. Walking to the dresser you found yourself thinking about your freshly cleaned favorite pajamas, but once you placed your hands on the drawer you felt the clothing on you tighten. You gasped and stepped back, looking down in time to watch as the work outfit seemed to liquify and pull itself in different directions, and solidifying into your pajamas.

You froze, not exactly sure what the proper reaction to this was supposed to be. A lump in your throat appeared, and you gently tried to swallow it down. "Huh." Your voice was higher than you intended. You looked around the dark room, double checking just to make sure no one else was here. Nope, no prank crew, no cameras.

Were you a mutant? All of a sudden? The rest of your family was mutants free, but who knows if you got a gene. The gene… that gave you the lack luster power to change outfits. Disappointing, if that was really your superpower. Didn't mutants get powers when they are younger though? Questions filtered through your head, and it was becoming too much.

Be calm.

The voice spoke, and you did the exact opposite of what it ordered. You yelped and fell to the ground, quickly crawling over to your nightstand and grabbing the bat you had propped against it. You looked around wildly for the source of the voice.

We are safe now. No harm.

You could hear how heavy you were breathing in the empty room, and could feel the sweat trickle down your neck. "We?" You asked out loud, not sure if you were going crazy. You knew you were a stressed person, but this was a bit much.

Yes. We are safe. We saved ourselves, where Spiderman has failed.

Confusion made you lower the bat, thinking about those words. All in a rush, the events came back to you. The explosion. The weight of bricks. The green armored man. Spiderman not noticing you.

You fell back onto your rear at the memories, eyes wide as you brought a hand to your mouth. Deep anger started to build up in the back of your mind, but you knew it wasn't yours. "Who… who are you?" You asked.

You felt moisture at your eyes, and felt like you were crying. You touched your cheek and pulled back your hand, seeing sticky black ink drip on an arch. Before your panic could rise, blackness filled your vision.

Then you were falling.

But you weren't yourself. You were… it , whatever it was. The land around you wasn't earth, it was too orange, too broken. Dangerous animals were fighting below you, and you realized you weren't falling, you were flying. Then you were violently hit, and space rushed past you. Things flashed black, and you found yourself alone, weak, until he showed up.

He who was so heroic, putting himself in harm's way for the benefit of others.

He who took care of you, taking every chance to use you and enjoy the power you gave him.

He who you grew attached to, as you gave him everything you were.

He who betrayed you.

Spiderman.

You felt the heartbreak of your only weakness being used against you as the one you trusted ripped you to pieces. He tore you off, and left you in the dirt weak and about to die. Until… Until another showed up. Only for spiderman do do the same to you yet again.

The story repeats. You are ripped from people that appreciate you, ones that abuse you, ones that know nothing and ones that know everything about you. Finally the memories slow down, showing a man with long black hair and a leather jacket, the same man that was in your business, getting ahold of you. You trusted him to be good, he was a soldier, someone trained to protect others! And yet, when you desperately granted him power in order for your own survival, he turned it against others, even one he considered a friend. He killed and slaughtered despite you saying no, but he wouldn't let you go.

Until he was weakened, and chased, and hunted.

We have to save them, they are innocent! You-it-they- shouted. Your other refused, hurting enough on his own, he did not care for the innocent caught in the blast. And so when the sound came and stripped you from him, you took your chance to save the innocent.

That innocent was you.

Actually you.

The blackness pulled itself out of your vision and you gasped for breath. You flexed your fingers, trying to ground yourself in reality, trying to remember who you were. You touched your face, bringing yourself back to your own mind, your own memories.

"You are… Venom?"

We are Venom.

The correction weighed heavy in your gut as you realized the gravity of the situation. You saw how the symbiote, which somehow you knew it was called that now, bonded with a host. They were loyal, they protected whoever their other was. And that other, was now you.

You sat in silence for a moment, slowly mulling over your thoughts, before realizing that they were what saved you from death earlier. "I suppose… I should thank you?" You awkwardly asked, still not sure if you were having the craziest dream ever.

No thanking necessary. We are both innocents Spiderman have failed.

The anger built up again, and you felt the heartbreak from the memories ache in your chest. "He's less of a hero than I thought, huh?" You asked quietly, recalling the blurry figure being too busy to save you. Sure, in theory you could understand him not being able to reach everyone when things happened, but you couldn't stop your disappointment from building. He was right there , he only needed to look in your direction and you were sure he would have seen you buried under those bricks.

He is a hero. Does not make him good.

There was a hint of respect in the voice, or was that something more? It was obvious Venom hated Spiderman because how he treated them, but at the same time the desire to be a hero itself was there. One of the good guys, to save people, and bring hope to others. And now it burned in your veins like it did back when you were young.

Superheroes and villains were always so intriguing to you, but you could never fantasize about being a hero for long. The world is too big, too powerful for you to pretend that you could have a impact. There were people that change the shape of earth around them or bend metal with their thoughts, who would have noticed a plain human receptionist stand up to them, when even modern cops didn't even stand a chance? The most you could ever do is pretend to be a deterrent for mildly threatening humans to protect other employees, but you knew you purposely avoided looking at any sort of news because of how useless it made you feel. You weren't even considered strong for a human. You were average.

But now? Now you had leverage. You had something that could make a difference. The thought of it thrilled you. "Can… can we be a hero now? Now that I have you?"

Indeed. We would protect others.

You felt the rush of excitement with the idea of your childhood dream coming true. It felt childish, something that you didn't deserve, something impossible. And yet, memories that didn't belong to you played in the back of your mind. Memories of fighting monsters you didn't know existed, memories of saving an underground civilization, memories of being more powerful than you could have dreamt of. Just the thought of how strong Venom was in his past hosts made your mouth salivate.

Huh. You wondered if that was a side effect of wearing an alien as pajamas.

You wiped your mouth and swallowed, quickly standing up to go to the bathroom. Dream or not, you were ready to charge right ahead with all of… this. "Alright, show me what you… we look like." You spoke, pulling the sliding mirror open for you to get a full body view of yourself.

The pajamas pulled and liquified once more, before darkening and cold black tendrils started climbing across your body. It was rather horrifying to watch, but you stood there and accepted it. Either Venom had already worked itself into you brain to be used to it, or you were much more okay with intimate relationships with aliens than you realized.

The tendrils stacked and climbed up your neck, quickly coating your skin before covering your eyes and mouth. You felt trapped in darkness for just a second, before you felt yourself change.

You could feel yourself moving, shifting, as your center of balanced changed and you start to topple forward. Your hand instinctively reaches out in front of you and hits the mirror, catching you as your vision pulls from black to white, before fading to normal… but the shadows of the room don't look quite as dark as they should. You looked into the mirror, to find yourself face to face with a monster.

You couldn't even recognize yourself. For one, you were big . You were never one to work out, but Venom seemed to supply the muscles on their own. They weren't nearly as big as in some of the memories they showed you, but still incredibly impressive. You were also much taller, at least by a foot, if not more.

The oily darkness coated your skin, or maybe it was your skin now, you couldn't quite tell at this point, but the white logo of the spider splayed proudly on your chest, its long legs trailing down your ribs and arms, ending at your hands. And oh my, your hands. They were dangerous looking. Strong, sharp, and deft. The nails on those things looked like they could cut through metal without issue. You brought a hand to your face and observed it closer in the mirror.

Large, messy, white eyes were a defining feature for your face, as they seemed to take up nearly half of it. They looked like blobby versions of Spiderman's mask, if a bit more wicked looking. The other half of your face consisted of a monstrous mouth, which was utterly overflowing with sharp, even more dangerous looking teeth. You ran a nail across them, observing quietly, before opening your mouth.

Like everything else in this change, it was big. You could open your mouth way further than you should be able to, in fact it might be the most unnerving thing about the change, strangely enough. You snap your jaw shut and stand back from the mirror, taking a moment to settle in this new skin.

"We don't exactly look… Heroic. I can see why we- you had a hard time." You stumbled on your words, getting caught up just looking at all of the defined muscles in your arms alone. "But this…think we could get used to this." You smiled, seeing your jaw pull back in an unnatural way.

"Let's go for a test run."