Peter came by the visitor's desk, performing the usual check-in necessary. He then took his Ravencroft guest badge, clipping it to his shirt pocket before proceeding further into the building. Taking the elevator, Peter exited to the second floor, finding the space where Eddie was being kept in. He looked inside to see that his friend was still comatose, something that had been baffling the doctors of late. One of the ones who attended Eddie actually came up to him not long after he'd entered the area.
"How is he?" Peter asked.
"Same as always," the doctor said with a sigh. "We haven't seen anything new on our scans or X-rays, and there's been no other evident changes in his brain or cellular activity."
Peter could only nod at this news, the doctor then stepping away. He just stared at his friend-turned-enemy through the glass, now alone with his thoughts. He'd been coming here at least once a week ever since he'd entered here, him being one of the few individuals that Anne had given clearance to see Eddie. Sometimes he would pop in as Spider-Man as well in the hopes that his red and blue alter ego's appearance would grant him access to a more comprehensive report. Even then, he'd get the same thing as what the doctor had told him just now.
He just couldn't understand it; given the symbiote's abilities, he couldn't believe that it hadn't restored both itself and Eddie with it. Had the separation attempt really damaged both of them beyond repair? It was a question Peter had wrestled with for a while, the thought that his last-minute desperate action had resulted in suffering for his friend, and all associated with him. Eddie just had to wake up though, and Peter had long since made up his mind to keep coming back in the hopes of being there the day it happened. Granted, part of this was to be prepared in case it was Venom and not Eddie that truly reemerged, but he would deal with that if the time came.
Deciding that he'd been there long enough, Peter turned and began walking out of the room. As he neared the door, another individual entered, one he didn't recognize as a doctor or any kind of Ravencroft personnel. The man, who was dressed in a nice shirt and tie, came up to the window, assuming a similar position to what Peter just had. He stopped a doctor walking past in the hallway as he stepped out of the room.
"Who is that?" he asked, gesturing back towards the gentleman.
"I believe that's one of the priests from the church that Mr. Brock attended," the doctor explained. "Mrs. Brock called only a couple weeks ago to verify his access, so he's only been coming recently."
Peter nodded, glancing back at the man. Given the more formal look the man sported, as well as the nature of Eddie's "condition," he'd been concerned that this man was some kind of government scientist potentially eyeing his next project. Fortunately, this proved not to be the case, allowing Peter to finally leave with at least a small semblance of peace.
Peter opened the door for his wife, allowing her to enter the community center just ahead of him before he quickly came alongside her once more.
"Wow," M.J. said as they surveyed the room. "Your friend must have been really popular."
"Something like that," Peter conceded. If tonight was anything to go by, it felt like an understatement. There were several people whose faces he at least partially recognized as being from the halls of Midtown High School once upon a time, as well as several others he assumed were family or friends of the Thompsons. There also were a few military personnel around as well, likely colleagues of Flash's from his time in the Marines.
Strolling slowly through the room, Peter's eyes scoured the area as he searched for his friend. It took him a little while, but eventually, he finally found him, the man of the hour himself. However, Peter was caught completely off guard that Flash, one of the best athletes around for most of his life, was in a wheelchair.
"I'm guessing you didn't know about this?" M.J. asked softly.
"No," Peter shook his head, but now it was making sense to him. He thought he'd remembered that Flash's mom had said there was something she'd wanted to give him a heads up on before he'd rushed off to respond to the explosion he'd heard in the city. He'd since almost completely forgotten about that part of the conversation.
Walking up to him, it wasn't long before Peter caught Flash's attention, the man's demeanor seemingly perking up at least slightly at his presence.
"Peter Parker," he muttered, veering away from those who'd previously had his attention as he rolled his wheelchair over. "It's been a long time, you never call, you never write."
Flash extended his hand in greeting, a gesture Peter accepted.
"Hey Flash," he responded, bending down to give his friend a quick hug. "I'm sorry; I guess I've been busier than I realized for a while now."
"I can see one of the reasons why right here," Flash said, gesturing towards M.J.
"Hi," Mary Jane said, shaking Flash's hand as well. "Mary Jane."
"Flash Thompson," the man replied. "I'm sure Peter has told you at least a little about me?"
"Oh yeah," M.J. explained. "He said that you two are good friends."
"Really?" Flash questioned, glancing over at Peter. "Is that all he said?"
"Well, I might have slipped in a couple stories about the bruised faces and bloody noses you gave me before that," Peter explained.
"Yeah, well," Flash responded, chuckling mildly as he glanced down for a moment, "I guess I just had to get out of my rebellious and obnoxious phase first."
"At least you did that before you signed up to have people just spew out orders at you all the time," Peter remarked.
"Uh huh," Flash remarked. The man glanced down at his legs, staring for a moment, leading Peter to regret having brought up the decision that ended up changing the course of his friend's life forever.
"Anyway, enough about me," Flash said, turning his chair and wheeling over towards the refreshments. "That's all anyone seems to want to talk about tonight, but I would very much like to hear about what's been going on with you, Parker, starting with how you were lucky enough to put a ring on this pretty lady's finger."
"That's something I still wonder about myself," Peter replied, glancing over at M.J. as the three of them grabbed some cool drinks.
"I mean, you did almost run me over the first time we met," Mary Jane explained. "I guess it was just destined to be at that point."
"Wow," Flash said, raising his drink as he prepared to take a sip. "You know, I'm pretty sure when they talk about sweeping a girl off her feet, that's not what they mean."
"Thank you for clarifying that," Peter replied sarcastically, prompting the first genuine-looking smile he'd seen out of Flash all night. "Anyway, she's the big success between us; she runs her own fashion franchise."
M.J. glanced over toward Flash.
"He really has always been like this, hasn't he?" she questioned, gesturing to Peter. "Well, since he won't talk about himself, I will: he's been the Daily Bugle's prize photographer for years now, and he even won a Pulitzer recently for one of his photos. Also, he's working on his own startup."
"Okay," Flash said, nodding. "So, what exactly is it you're starting up, Peter?"
"Honestly, I'm still trying to figure that out," he explained. "There are so many competitive fields out there that everyone is working in already. I want to do something different, something that will really make a difference."
"There it is," Flash said, gesturing towards Peter with his drink. "Good Ol' Peter Parker, still trying to save the world with his mind."
"Something like that," Peter replied. Before he could speak further, his phone went off, and he took it out to observe his crime alert app was sending him a notification. He politely but awkwardly excused himself, he and M.J. stepping into the crowd for a moment.
"What is it?" Mary Jane questioned in a hushed tone.
"Someone called in a drug deal or something in Midtown," Peter whispered back. They both glanced towards Flash, who was distracted for the moment.
"Go," she said. "I'll figure something out."
With no time to argue, Peter gave her a quick kiss before discreetly making his exit.
It didn't take long for Peter to arrive at the scene of the crime, observing a drug deal that was indeed in progress. Looking on from his perch well above the group, he counted ten guys to take down, which was nothing he hadn't handled a million times before. Hoping to have a chance to get back to the party in a decent amount of time, he decided that he may as well get this over with. He leapt down, landing right in between the parties conducting the deal.
"Hey guys," he greeted, "so, what's in the bag?"
They tried to draw their guns on him, but Peter quickly took out those closest to him with a quick flurry of punches and kicks. From there, he moved on to the others, pinning multiple men with webbing while also sweeping the legs out from under a couple of the others. Two more tried to draw guns on him, but he webbed them away, the two of them raising their hands in defeat, while a third one just stood there. He didn't appear to be carrying a weapon, but he also didn't seem to have the sense of his two companions.
"Okay, fine," Peter said, past the point of indulging the guy. He leapt forward, intending to deliver a quick knockout punch and end the whole thing. As he drew near, however, his spider sense rang out, but it was too late to change his motion as the man simply caught it, sealing Peter's fist in a tight grip. Suddenly, the man's skin changed, taking on a golden tint that almost looked like a kind of armor that soon encompassed his entire person.
"Neat, huh?" the guy said, a pleased smile on his face.
"Not bad," Peter conceded. He tried to play possum, sagging a little before throwing his left knee straight into the man's gut, only for his strike to have no effect on the man. Not only that, but it had felt as though Peter had driven his knee straight into a sturdy piece of metal, a surprising pain suddenly hitting him as a result that caused him to drop down to his other knee.
"That's not all I can do though," the man boasted. His skin then started to glow, and the hand by which he held Peter suddenly grew much hotter to the point where it felt as though his hand was inside an oven.
"AAAGH!" he cried out. Desperately, he used his free arm to fire a thick batch of webbing at his face, distracting the man enough so that he released his grip on Peter, who gripped his wrist area in pain. He glanced up to find that the guy had melted the webbing over his eyes and was already marching back toward him.
"Nice to know I'm not the only one who likes to use tricks!" he said. "Here's another."
Holding his arms out, his hands began to generate what almost appeared to be lava balls over each one. Peter backed up as the man marched past him, adrenaline now allowing him to move past the pain he'd felt. The guy then chucked a fireball his way, and Peter leapt up out of the way, landing on the side of the building. His new enemy then chucked another one his way, repeating this as Peter dodged them until both were out of the alley...exactly where Peter hadn't wanted to end up.
"So, what do they call you anyway?" Peter questioned as his mind raced to think of a plan that would keep civilians out of harm's way. "Fireboy? Flamethrower? I would say Firefly, but I think that's taken."
"Personally, I prefer... Molten Man," the guy replied as he joined his hands together, generating an extra-large fireball. Leaping out of the way in advance, Peter avoided the blast sent his way, hoping to lead his opponent out towards the bay with the intent of cooling him off a little. Any kind of a fight with him in the city, even in the evening hours like now, was too risky and needed to be avoided if at all possible. He glanced back to find that, sure enough, the Molten Man was in pursuit of him. The man launched a couple of fire blasts his way, which Peter easily dodged.
"Nope, not even close!" he taunted, doing everything he could to keep his opponent's focus squarely on him and no one else. Eventually, they reached the bay area, which seemed pretty unoccupied for the most part. Landing on a wooden post near the water's edge, he flipped across a couple more as he avoided still more long-distance fire blasts.
"Spoiler alert, you're never going to hit me from that far away," Peter goaded, "and I'll just bet that you're too afraid to do anything to mess up those golden hands of yours!"
To Peter's surprise, rather than come after him harder, the man slowed down a halt.
"Nice try, Spider-Man," Molten Man explained. "You think I can't see what you're doing here?"
A man then came into view, likely a dock worker, stopping at the realization of what he'd walked into. All the hairs on Peter's body stood on end as a smug smile overtook his enemy's face at the seeming realization of possibility.
"You are a sucker for the average Joe though, aren't you?" Molten Man said, forming a fireball and bouncing it up and down before rearing back to throw it at the innocent bystander.
"NOO!" Peter called out, webbing at his opponent's hand, causing him to drop the flame into the water behind him. With surprisingly quick reflexes, the man turned and yanked the web, pulling Peter forward and wrapping him into a bear hug. Instantly, he could feel his skin starting to burn, causing him to groan and grit his teeth through the pain. He struggled, accidentally gripping the man's arms at one point in an attempt to gain leverage, which only burned one more part of him in turn.
"AAGH!"
The man then turned and wrapped him up, pressing Peter's backside into his chest so that even more of him burned. The pain becoming overwhelming, his mind scrambled to find a way out of this, as his strength was not enough. Glancing down, he had one quick idea; jumping up, he forced the both of them into the air, arcing back so that the heavier man holding him would crash first, and crash they did, clean through the wooden docks and into the water below. His enemy seemingly caught off guard by the loss of his flame, Peter took advantage, managing to break free of the man's less secure grip, kicking him down as he fought through the pain, swimming desperately towards the surface until he broke through, the dock worker he'd saved helping him up onto the deck as he gasped for air.
"You alright?" the man asked.
"Never better," Peter managed to get out in between coughs. Really, that couldn't be further from the truth; though the water had cooled the worst of the pain, he was definitely still feeling it in several areas of his body. He fought against letting on just how much it was bothering him though.
"What about the other guy?" the worker asked. Peter glanced back down towards the bay, only to be reminded of how impossible it was to see into the murky water, especially late at night. However, he heard something in the distance; looking ahead, he saw someone emerge from the water well ahead, the man seemingly back to his normal complexion as he fled. Peter didn't even think of going after him though, as frankly, he was in no condition.
Who was that guy though?
My apologies for last week; between sickness in the home and trying to purchase a house, things have been a little crazy! Thank you in the meantime for the support, and I hope you continue to enjoy!
Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy!
"Lead me, Lord, in Your righteousness because of my enemies— make Your way straight before me." Psalm 5:8