Alright everyone, I know that I'm late in updating, but believe me when I say that I haven't been just sitting around! This chapter kind of needs an intro. I'm sure there will be people who think I didn't do our favorite blue villain justice, but I've tried my best. This chapter is a little like the sub-chapter I posted earlier in that it doesn't directly involve Nikki – for now. And you have now either heard of or met all the important characters in the story. I hate to say it, but it is unlikely Venom will rear his ugly head again in this story. But I promise that the X-men, Groak, and Gerald Anderby (Don't forget that name!) will play very vital roles. Now, enjoy!

Moonjava – Speed reader, eh? Thanks!

giveGodtheglory – Thanks so much!

Xaris of the Fish – You bet he is! And I'm going to be REALLY made if he doesn't make it in the third Spider-Man. BTW, did anyone pick up the line in the first movie about having "Eddie on it getting pictures of Spider-Man all week"?

Jinxeh – I'm so honored that you'd read this! Wow, I kept you up til 12:30? Yay! Thank you so much, and I'm going to read the second chapter of Mockingbird Syndrome. I just finished HBP and loved it. Hope you did too! If anyone is interested in reading an X-men/Harry Potter cross-over, check out Jinxeh!

Repto – Glad you liked it! Ock isn't in this, unfortunately. He just wouldn't fit, and I felt like everyone else was using Ock already so why go with the flow? If you don't know much about Venom, I'll admit that I didn't do a real good job explaining who or what he is. I felt like it would slow the pace. Check out if you're interested.

Griselda Banks – Thank you sooooo much. I'm so glad you still remember the sub-chappie. I'm only afraid people will forget names. Oh well. Just like I said to Repto, if you want a better idea of who Venom is, you'll have to swing by for a quick intro to him. I didn't really explain him at all. I'm looking forward to your final chapter/s!

Everyone – READ AND REVIEW! It only takes a minute to say that you liked it or didn't. Please take that time!

A Little Dose of Venom

Mary Jane dropped the broom to the ground with a loud clatter. For several seconds, she remained there, staring at the man who had once been a coworker – and deadly enemy - of her husband.

Then she knelt tentatively beside him, uncertain of whether to be more concerned for his life or the potential danger of the symbiote.

Venom, or Eddie Brock as the human part of him was called, was covered in brutal lacerations. Looking outside, MJ could see staggering bloody footsteps leading up their walkway.

Years of tending to her husband's wounds had taught her not to fear the sight of blood. But never in all their years together had she ever seen anything like this. "You stay right here," she said, holding one hand over his forehead but thinking better of actually touching it. "I'll call Peter."

The door to Ben's room was cracked open. Two very frightened pairs of eyes watched her hurry up the steps in a daze. "Mom?" said May apprehensively.

A sudden maternal fear crossed Mary Jane's brow like a piece of ice. They should not see the carnage in their entryway. They were only children.

Casting a sickened look down the steps, she swept into Ben's room, blocking their view. She closed the door behind her, sat on the bed, and drew her two babies to her.

"May, Ben," she began, forcing her voice not to tremble. "You have to be brave, alright?"

May nodded solemnly but still aware that this conversation starter was a little overused in their family. Ben watched his mother, wide-eyed.

"There's a man here who's very hurt." She almost grimaced at the gross understatement.

"Did he get in a fight?" asked Ben.

"Maybe," said Mary Jane distractedly. "But I want you not to go see him. Stay in here. I'm going to go call Daddy." She hugged them both tightly.

"Everything's gonna be fine," she said, mostly for her own benefit.

"Dr. Parker?"

The receptionist's voice drew Peter's glassy look away from a group of students poking pencils and other flammable objects into the Bunsen burners and to his phone.

As he leaned across his desk to pick it up, he called, "Johnson, if you don't stop trying to set Miss Tyler's hair on fire, you'll fail this lab." He did not particularly like this class; most of the kids were just in it for their Gen Eds requirements.

"Yes?" he said into the phone.

"Your wife is on the line," stated the university receptionist. She sounded almost as tired as him.

Peter perked up a bit. Leaning back in his chair, he said, "All right. Go ahead and connect her."

Mary Jane's voice had rarely been a more refreshing sound. "Hey, Pete."

"Hi, Honey. What's up?"

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked. Peter instantly caught that one dissonant note in the lovely chord that was her voice.

He looked back at his students. They were all aware that his attention was distracted and were taking full advantage of it. Only Susan Brooks, a freshman who reminded Peter remarkably of himself, was still working diligently.

"No," he said. "Is something wrong, MJ?"

"Uh…"

He heard her cover the receiver and clear her throat. His eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "MJ?"

"Peter, you won't believe this, but Ve--Mr. Brock just showed up."

"What?" said Peter a little too loudly. Several students glanced at him and started pretending to be making measurements.

"But he was in jail," he said more quietly. "I should know. I put him there."

Mary Jane was silent for a few seconds.

"He must've busted out then." She ignored her husband's exasperated sigh. "Sorry, but you should see him! He looks like he's been in the mother of all fights."

Peter dragged his hand over his face. How on earth had that guy gotten out? He had been sentenced to one of the top prison facilities in the country, each cell made uniquely for its occupant. "Is he still at our house?"

"Yes. Unconscious in the entryway. I haven't touched him."

He felt a pang of unease jolt his senses. Dropping his voice to a whisper, Peter said, "But, MJ, my Spi…" He scanned the room for any eavesdroppers, then swiveled his chair to face the wall. "My you-know-what hasn't been ting–bothering me at all today."

"Then maybe we aren't in any danger. But please come home ASAP, Pete," pleaded Mary Jane.

"I'll be home in a couple of minutes."

"No rush," said Mary Jane weakly.

Peter was already beginning to stand up. "Just keep the kids away, all right? See you soon."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mary Jane."

"Goodbye." And she hung up.

Peter thrust the phone back into its cradle, grabbed his coat, and announced abruptly, "Class dismissed. Make sure everything is cleaned up before you leave." Ignoring the staring faces, he made his way out of the classroom, closing the door behind him with a bang.

In the numb silence that followed, Chad Billinger looked around at his fellow freshmen. "Um, maybe we went too far?"

His best friend, Greg Johnson, gulped as he eyed the charred ends of Mallory Tyler's hair nervously. Nudging Chad, he asked, "Do you think he's really gonna fail me?"

Mary Jane raced to the back door to meet her husband. "Why are you wearing your costume?" she cried anxiously, pulling him inside. "What if somebody saw you?"

Peter gritted his teeth and whipped off his mask. "Then you can spread the wonderful tale of how Spider-Man retrieved your stolen purse and was kind enough to return it to you." He walked into the kitchen. "Where's Venom?"

"I think you guys have used that one before, Dad."

"May!" exclaimed Mary Jane. "I told you to stay in Ben's room." She hurried to her daughter, grabbing the girl's arm and trying to wheel her around.

May kept her feet planted stubbornly. "I'm staying here."

Peter stopped pulling on his clothes long enough to crane his neck over the railing. The disgusting sight of blood and blue symbiote made him cringe. He didn't often see people that beat up and still alive. "MJ, you just left him on the floor?" Peter leaped to his feet.

"What was I supposed to do?" she said, glaring but still attempting to push May back up the stairs.

Ben elbowed past his sister. "Where's the guy?" He looked around eagerly.

"Ben! Peter, do something," Mary Jane moaned.

She watched her husband hurtle over the banister and land lightly beside the crumpled form of Eddie Brock. He cautiously lifted Venom and carried him up the stairs, struggling not to jostle him too much and issuing instructions. "Ben, clear the table. MJ, get out the first aid kit. May, call the Colts and tell them that we have to cancel dinner."

As Ben haphazardly moved expensive dinner plates and silverware, Peter laid the unconscious Venom onto the flat wood surface. Mary Jane scurried over a moment later hauling their first aid case. Due to Peter's frequent injuries, their selection of medical equipment had become quite extensive.

"May," she said commandingly. "You take your brother and go upstairs now."

Ben edged closer to his father, gaping at Venom. "Whoa."

May scowled. "Honestly, Mom. I'm fourteen and Ben's almost nine. We know about Dad's other identity. I think you owe it to us to stop pretending like none of this kind of thing-" she waved her arm in the direction of Eddie Brock "-ever happens. Stop sheltering us so much. We're growing up."

Peter and Mary Jane exchanged a silent look.

May decided it was time to use her strongest ammunition. "That's the reason we lost Nikki, isn't it, Mom and Dad?" said May quietly.

Peter reeled backward as though she had just slapped him across the face. His wife sat down hard in a chair, stunned. No one spoke for a long while.

"Sorry to interrupt this family moment, Parker," gasped a gravelly voice, "but I could use a little help."

"He's alive!" shouted Ben.

"Of course he is," said Mary Jan, recovering quickly. "Come on, Peter. Help me out here." Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, she gave him a morphine injection and went to work stitching up one of the larger wounds across his chest. Peter started cleaning some of the bullet holes. Both children were ordered not to touch anything because of the bio hazard.

It was over two hours later that Mary Jane finally announced that they had done all they could. She remained concerned, however, about blood loss. "Peter," she said, stepping back to examine their work. "He really should be taken to a hospital."

"How are we going to explain where we got all that morphine?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Do we just keep him here then? We're not exactly certified surgeons."

"No," Peter agreed. "But I'd wager there's not a whole lot more that they could do for him."

They put him in a makeshift bed in the basement. It wasn't until the next day that Eddie Brock, now dressed normally and looking human again, was fit to explain himself.

Sitting up painfully, he accepted a glass of water from Mary Jane. Peter stood dutifully by her side, eyeing his old enemy with a mix of distrust and curiosity.

"Thanks," croaked Brock, settling back after a long swig of water. "I owe you guys one."

"You bet you do," muttered Peter. His sick days were valuable, and he didn't appreciate using them up for jail scum like this. MJ shushed him, but Peter could see the understanding in the motherly frown she gave him.

Brock inspected a long stretch of stitches that snaked up his arm. He let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's gonna leave a mark."

He suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah." Holding up his fist, Eddie Brock released a crumpled and bloody scrap of paper into Peter's outstretched hand. "Another pal of yours wanted me to deliver that."

Peter slowly opened it up, MJ leaning over his shoulder. It appeared to be nothing more than a small piece of torn newspaper. He turned it over, expecting to see some sort of note, but there was nothing; just more newsprint.

"There's nothing written on it," Peter started to say, but Mary Jane stopped him. She motioned wordlessly at the side of paper facing down. He flipped it over.

Brock scrutinized his old enemy's face. He'd read the snippet of article several times before giving up on it. A little blurb in the news about increasing break-ins and the suspected group of young, costumed hooligans meant nothing to him.

He was surprised when Peter's features hardened visibly and Mary Jane's hand gripped her husband's shoulder so strongly that her fingers turned white. "They're only children!" she whispered hoarsely.

Peter finally turned his narrowed eyes to Eddie.

"Brock, who sent this?" He shook the paper at him.

Brock shrugged, ignoring Peter's withering gaze. "Some girl at the prison."

"She's the one who sprung you, huh?" Peter rubbed his forehead wearily. "Eddie, we're getting too old for this."

"Yeah," said Brock. "Remember the good old days when you were just a lame photographer for the Bugle and I was at the top of my game?"

"Hardly," muttered Mary Jane.

Peter waved his hand. "Never mind. Who helped you escape?"

Eddie Brock cocked his head to give him a sideways glance. "Your friend Felicia Hardy. Only she's Felicia somebody-or-other now. She said she got married."

"To who?" snapped Mary Jane. "A big shot millionaire, I'll bet."

"Jealous?" said Brock slyly.

"No!" exclaimed Mary Jane, quickly slipping her arm through Peter's. He gave her a grateful look. Brock watched them indifferently.

"So Black Cat was the one who got you out of prison and she wanted you to bring me this," Peter surmised. "Why? And why didn't she high-tail-it out of there too?"

"I don't know, and because she couldn't," answered Brock. "They've got her for good, I think. The person who turned her in had apparently figured out some special way to keep her there."

"But she got you out."

Brock threw up his hands, winced, and brought them immediately back down. Nursing the large gash on his arm, he said, "Yeah, but the guy who got me penned up there wasn't quite as…efficient…as whoever turned over the Black Cat."

Peter made a feral noise that Wolverine could have been proud of. Brock looked ready to keep egging him on, but seemed to have a sudden recollection of his injuries and thought better of it.

Mary Jane spoke up. "Why did you bother dragging yourself all the way over here just to give this to us?"

Brock laughed. "It's amazing what a person will do for a pretty face. But you and Peter should know all about that, eh, MJ?"

Mary Jane marched around Peter to Brock's side, bent down, and brought her hand sharply across his face.

Eddie Brock touched his stinging cheek. His head was still ringing from the slap. "Ow…" He watched her walk loyally back to Peter who looked equally insulted.

Crouching down to his level, Peter said evenly, "Listen, Venom, I have half a mind to turn you over efficiently right now. If you know what's good for you, you'll be out of my house by midnight. Understand?"

Then he stalked upstairs, MJ following in his wake and still fuming, leaving his frosty threat to hang like a great, deadly icicle over Eddie Brock's head.

The next morning Venom was nowhere to be seen, but the basement was covered in spiteful, blue, slimy webs.