i Luv when actions have consequences… also, the flash&peter tag FINALLY earns its keep this chapter y'all

xXx

Sleep did not come easy to Flash that night. In fact, sleep did not come at all.

With the help of Venom, Flash had avoided returning to his house through the front door, as that mode of entry would have risked a consequential confrontation with Gerald. Instead, Venom landed them atop his balcony, the doors of which Flash had—unintentionally but thankfully—forgotten to lock. Despite lying down in his comfortable bed and taking what had to be one too many sleeping pills, though, the closest Flash came to getting any rest after his… adventure was merely the act of closing his eyes.

I can put you to sleep, if you'd like, Venom offered at one point, at least an hour after the sun had disappeared below the horizon.

Flash did not like how tempted he was to accept that offer. "How?"

A fiddle here, a poke there. Brains are delightfully squishy.

Flash snorted. "Never mind." Although the chances of Venom eating his brain seemed slim to none, there were certain things Flash didn't feel like risking.

After another 30 minutes of futile tossing and turning, Flash shrugged off his blankets and decided that if he was going to be up all night, he could at least make it a productive period. He flicked on the lamp atop his desk, pulled out all his incomplete homework assignments, and got to work. Flash briefly considered playing LoFi or other music on his phone, but he had a feeling having the device too near him might prove a dangerous distraction, so he kept it shut down on the other side of his room.

Not that Flash found it easy to focus either way.

The screams. The panic in the driver's eyes, the white hot rage that had burned through Flash's chest like acetone igniting.

He'd hated him. He'd been willing to let him—no, Flash had wanted him to die, had been desperate to watch the driver pay the ultimate price for putting his child's life at risk for selfish gain. Yeah, Flash knew exactly what he'd wanted.

What Flash didn't know was if he would have been able to live with himself after the fact.

You are being too hard on yourself, Flash. That man was evil! Irredeemable! The perfect snack to feel no shame about.

Flash shook his head, though a tired smile tugged at his lips despite himself. "It's not that simple, Venom. But thanks for trying."

Even with the flurry of thoughts racing around his mind like a blizzard, Flash managed to get a decent amount of homework done. Every time he decided to stop and try to sleep, of course, all he could see when he closed his eyes was the drunk driver. The girl, choking. Blood pouring from the stranger's shoulder, blood staining the concrete.

At least Flash was no stranger to all-nighters.

When Flash turned on his laptop to look over some old AP Bio notes, he was met with a flood of breaking news alerts, including multiple from the Daily Bugle. Though at this late hour—or early, rather—he doubted Betty had been involved in producing any of them.

When Flash saw the headlines, his stomach sank.

ALIEN TERROR ATTACKS DEFENSELESS MAN!

SPIDER-MAN SCARES AWAY MONSTER!

CURIOUS CREATURE CRASHES CIVILIAN CAR?

"Oh my God," Flash muttered, scrolling through an endless page of trending articles. "Oh my God."

How could he have been so stupid to think no one would have reported about him and Venom?! Jesus Christ, this was not good, this was everything Flash did not need right now—

Wait a minute, we didn't crash that car. We helped the little girl get OUT of the crash!

"Yeah, well, being helpful doesn't get you on the front page," Flash muttered.

Damn, what was he going to do if someone had identified him? He wasn't as public a figure as his parents were, but his fair share of tabloid paparazzi had used his so-called "misbehavior" to libel both his mother and father in the past. Like yeah, his parents were shitty, but that wasn't Flash's fault.

Stop catastrophizing and read the articles, dumbass.

Surprisingly reasonable advice from a symbiote whose favorite soapbox was advocacy for eating people.

Most of the articles, Flash was relieved to note, only contained amateur footage of Venom at the scene, if any footage at all. There were no pictures of himself—his usual self, at least, though here and there an article did mention 'a Latino kid' or 'a Hispanic kid' that had helped rescue the girl from the wreckage.

I call that positive credit.

Flash was just grateful none mentioned his name.

On a more positive note, almost all of the articles reported that the girl was expected to recover and that her father had been taken into custody. A few also mentioned that the girl's mother, although she had indeed been shot by her ex-husband as he'd so obnoxiously proclaimed, had been taken to the same hospital as her daughter and was similarly expected to make a full recovery.

One article caught Flash's eye during his process of reading and scrolling and rinse and repeat, if only because the headline appeared far less antagonistic toward Venom's presence than the others: ALIEN MONSTER—SLIMEBALL OR SAVIOR?

Flash snorted at the title's weak attempt at alliteration, but he clicked on the link all the same.

For the most part, the information reported was the same as all the other articles—the car crash, paramedics, the story behind the driver and his daughter. What was unusual, however, was the inclusion of a video interview with…

Flash paled. It couldn't be.

Oh, shit.

That was the paramedic who'd been with him when Venom had… emerged, to put it one way.

Nerves rolling with the force of a stormy sea in his stomach, Flash clicked 'play.'

"Why don't you tell us what you saw?" the reporter asked. They held out their mic to the paramedic, who took a deep breath, crossing their arms over their chest.

"Look, there was a lot going on. I don't think I can really explain what happened."

"Just try your best."

The paramedic sighed. "We arrived at the scene and started treating people. I was helping a kid—a teenager, probably—who'd been the one to pull the girl out of the car when her dad appeared out of nowhere and pulled a gun on us."

"You're saying the driver was armed?"

"How the hell else do you explain the shell casings all over the sidewalk?" The paramedic grimaced, arms falling to their sides. "Sorry. That was rude."

"It's okay. What happened after that?"

"The kid and I hit the dirt when the bullets started flying. The driver threatened to shoot if we didn't give him his kid back. Next thing I knew, someone shouted, 'No!' and then… there was the monster guy."

'Monster' is only marginally better than 'parasite.'

"Quiet," Flash muttered, bumping up the volume of the interview.

"You didn't see where it came from?"

The paramedic laughed harshly, shaking their head. "Hell no. My attention was on the ground, the driver, and Angie. She was the one confronting the driver, telling him we were trying to save his kid. But once the monster was there, wherever it came from, it disarmed the guy. I'm pretty sure it shielded us from his bullets, too."

"You're saying this monster defended you?"

"I'm saying tonight ended with one gunshot wound instead of five." They glanced behind them. "Sorry, I've gotta go."

"Of course. Thank you for speaking with me. This is Alex Street, reporting from—"

Flash paused the video and clicked out of the tab, slowly sitting back in his chair. "That… could've been a lot worse."

'Could've been worse'? That was glowing praise! We are stars!

"You know, Venom, of the two of us? I think you're the optimist," Flash said, shaking his head. He proceeded to close every tab he'd opened about the crash and consequential conflict.

Well, I do try.

After a beat, Flash shut his laptop and stood to plug it in at the back of his desk. There was no way he'd be getting any more work done, not after reading all that.

Flash sighed as he collapsed back onto his bed, knowing full well that despite the deep exhaustion permeating his entire body, sleep would still refuse to claim him. He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand—3:43. Only about two hours before he normally woke, anyways.

"Hey, Venom?"

What?

"Wanna play chess?"

Venom emerged from Flash's shoulder to loom over him. Chess is for losers.

"Is that a no?"

Venom glared at him. As much as a symbiote could glare, anyways. Fine.

"You have to promise not to read my mind."

Whatever. Now let's play!

Unsurprisingly, Flash won four of the five games they played. And with the one Venom did win, well, Flash may have gone easy on him. Not that Venom needed to know that. He'd been ecstatic to finally declare checkmate, and Flash wasn't about to ruin his excitement.

All things considered, Flash snuck out his house and drove to school that morning with surprising cheer for someone who would soon be pushing 32 hours without sleep. After parking in his assigned spot at Midtown and removing the key from the ignition, he pulled out his phone, realizing he was yet to actually go through his notifications since… well, since all things pre-accident.

His eyes widened.

"Dammit!" Flash shouted, slamming his fist into the top of the steering wheel. "How could I have been so stupid?"

He'd forgotten about his date with MJ. The entire fucking reason he'd left his house in the first place, and he'd let it slip his mind!

"Why didn't you remind me?!" Flash snapped, scrolling through seemingly endless texts from his friends, mostly from MJ, all that walked the fine line between irritation and concern.

You never asked!

"Oh my God." Flash shook his head. "They're gonna kill me."

Worse, MJ would break up with him, and there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he could hold it against her.

Flash clicked his phone off, dropping his head on the steering wheel and biting his tongue to hold back a frustrated scream. "I've got to be the shittiest boyfriend in the world."

It wasn't like him to be so unreliable, to be so fucking flighty like—like someone else Flash couldn't put a name to right now. He knew that. His friends probably knew that, too!

But that didn't mean Flash hadn't royally screwed up.

MJ had wanted to talk to him. To have a serious conversation with him. And he'd blown her off, intentionally or not.

I am sorry, Flash.

Flash's jaw tightened, but he shook his head again. "Don't. It's not your fault." He wished he could blame Venom, hell, he wanted to blame Venom in the hopes it would assuage the guilt eating at the inside of his chest, but this was all on him. "I should've remembered."

No. It is not your fault, either. You were overwhelmed. Scared.

Flash swallowed a bitter laugh. "Right." He didn't see it that way, but— "Thanks for trying."

It is 6:55. You still have five minutes to talk to your friends before your class begins.

"Yep," Flash muttered after a pause. He grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat beside him. "And if I'm lucky, only four of those minutes will be used to chew me out."

Venom provided no response, and Flash headed into Midtown's courtyard with only his own thoughts for company.

When his friends caught sight of him, Flash tensed, expecting at least one angry shout. Instead, he was met with a fierce hug from a whirlwind of blonde, stumbling backwards from the force of Betty's embrace.

"You are the worst, Eugene," she mumbled, burying her face in his chest and squeezing him tighter. "Do you know how worried we were?"

Flash tentatively returned her hug, noticing that MJ and Ned lingered only a few steps behind. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

Betty leaned back, and Flash could see that her eyes and nose were tinged with red. "When MJ told us you hadn't shown up last night, I called your house, and Gerald said you'd left over 45 minutes ago. I kept calling him every hour, he said you hadn't come back. I called this morning, he said you'd never come home, your room was locked, and your car was gone!"

Betty inhaled a shaky breath, and Flash pulled her into another hug, guilt burning a hole through his stomach.

"If you ever pull this vanishing act again," Betty said, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "I am going to tear you limb from limb."

A laugh escaped Flash's lips despite himself. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"What happened, dude?" Ned asked, and Flash fought back a wince.

"Well…"

Now came the hard part—trying to give them a convincing story.

"You look like hell," were MJ's first words to him as Betty pulled away to dab her eyes with a tissue, and Flash gave her as much of a smile as he could muster.

"I just got back."

A huff, somewhere between annoyance and relief, escaped MJ's lips as she cast her gaze to the ground, briefly wiping her face with the heel of her palm. "You asshole."

"I'm okay," Flash said after a pause, his words—in all their dishonesty—directed to the three of them. "I'm really sorry I scared you guys."

"Where"—MJ cleared her throat—"Where were you?"

"You'd better have a damn good explanation for scaring the hell out of us," Betty said, eyes glittering with another round of tears, and Ned nodded his agreement.

Flash bit his lip. He owed them the truth, he knew that, if only the truth didn't seem like the world's most exaggerated fabrication.

I would be happy to provide them with a full demonstration of us.

Yeah, no. Not on school grounds.

Flash could tell them a partial truth, maybe. That he'd been caught up in the 'alien attack' the night before. But that might lead to more questions he couldn't answer, and hell, even offering that up still wouldn't explain why he'd seemingly vanished off the face of the planet for almost 12 hours.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, casting his eyes downward. "I got… held up last night."

"You mean a mugging?" Ned asked, not quite incredulous, and Flash shook his head.

"Not exactly."

"'Not exactly'?" Betty echoed. She grabbed Flash's hand and squeezed it, her touch a desperation born from a deep love, a deep affection that ate at Flash's heart like acid. "Did someone hurt you? Do we need to go to the police?"

Flash grimaced. "No. No police."

He didn't feel comfortable walking past a police station while talking to himself—to Venom, rather—for fear of them jumping to conclusions, much less did Flash want to lead them any closer to reality that he was in cahoots with the 'alien terror' from the night before.

"Something happened last night," Flash finally said, giving Betty's hand a gentle squeeze before detangling his hand from hers, "that I never expected to happen, but you don't need to worry about it. It won't happen again. I promise."

Flash. You shouldn't make promises you cannot keep.

His friends were unconvinced, as Flash knew damn well they'd be, but before any of them could probe further, the bell rang. Betty and Ned had class on the other side of the school, so he knew they'd have to take their leave right away. Which they did—albeit first delivering him murmurs about how they were glad he was okay and that they hoped he'd be ready to tell them more about whatever happened later on. Flash could only give them a half-hearted smile in response, and soon the two began making their way across the courtyard.

Which left MJ.

Flash took a deep breath as he turned to face her. "Look, MJ—"

MJ held up her hand, and he snapped his jaw shut.

"I don't know what happened last night," she said, crossing her arms over her chest in a manner that Flash knew was not a sign of anger but one of defense, a shield to hide any hint of vulnerability, "but I want you to think about it from my perspective."

She took a deep breath. "We were supposed to meet up for a date that doubled as a chance to discuss whatever's been going on with you, because you've been acting… weird for the past several days. And then not only do you not show up, but you fucking disappear, Flash."

MJ shook her head, swallowing hard, and it was all Flash could do to not pull her into a hug then and there.

"We ask your butler what happened," MJ continued, pushing her red curls behind her ear, "and he doesn't know where you are. No mention of you on any news sites that we could find. And then, this morning, Gerald tells us that you never came home last night, but your car is gone. Think about that, Flash."

"I'm sorry," Flash said, knowing the words lost more meaning with each invocation of the phrase.

"We know you are," MJ said, "and that's what's killing us, Flash. Because something happened to you, or has been happening to you, and you wish it hadn't, but you can't tell us about it!"

She paused, taking a slow breath to calm down. "Or maybe you just won't tell us. And I don't know which is worse."

Flash winced, ever awed and angered that she could read him so damn well. He wanted nothing more than to tell all of them the truth, he really did, but another truth, at least in Flash's mind, was that other people knowing about his—his situation was the last damn thing he needed right now.

MJ's arms fell to her sides before she closed the distance between them, reaching out to cup Flash's face with her right hand and gently run her thumb beneath his eye. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I inspected the inside of my eyelids for about five seconds," Flash said, and MJ shook her head.

"You're a piece of work."

"Do I not delight you?"

"Relating to Hamlet has got to be one of the worst roads you could go down, you know."

Ha. Fair enough.

"Well," Flash said, gently removing MJ's hand from his face and taking a step away, "right now the only road we need to go down is the one to class."

MJ stared at him a beat longer, and Flash knew there were a million words she wanted to but couldn't say.

"See you in Research," she finally went with, slinging her backpack over her shoulder before turning away, and Flash somehow stopped himself from chasing after her.

What will you do now?

God. Flash wished he knew.

Flash's interactions with his friends throughout the rest of the school day continued to be awkward. He soon learned it was all but impossible to pay attention in class when there were at least one if not two pairs of eyes drilling a hole into his neck for an hour and a half. It almost made him wish he sat at the back of his classes, because at least then the teacher would demand his friends keep their eyes trained forward.

Flash's only reprieve was Spanish V, since his friends either hadn't taken Spanish or had already completed their minimum of the foreign language track required for graduation. The period gave him just enough of a breather to decide what he was going to do.

"After school," Flash mumbled under his breath as the bell rang and students began filtering out the classroom, "I want you to take me to the park."

In broad daylight? What happened to your need for secrecy?

"Fine. Take me near the park. Get me down somewhere no one will see us so I can—I can emerge fully human and no one will be the wiser."

What about your friends? Won't they be looking for you?

That was exactly what Flash wanted to avoid.

"I know it's shitty," he said, tired, "but I can't… I can't be around them right now."

The only thing worse than lying to his friends was lying to them and having to look them in the eyes afterward.

Venom didn't respond. Flash just hoped he'd do as asked.

After school, Flash stashed his backpack in his car before returning through the school to exit via one of the back doors, away from the bus area and the parking lot where students and teachers were flocking. He crossed the street, hiding in the shadows behind the gas station that Midtown kids often bought snacks from. Flash knew he was taking a risk, but—

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Do your thing."

The sensation of suiting up, for lack of a better term, was one Flash wondered if he'd ever get used to, both an assertion and surrender of control. It was a heaviness that washed over his body like a wave, a warmth that clung to him like sticky summer heat. But with that weight came energy, power—an incomparable adrenaline rush that made Flash feel like he could take on the world.

That is because you could, Venom hummed, rising to his full height.

"Maybe," Flash said. "But I don't need to." Much less did he want to. And though Venom still refused to have a conversation with him about his true intentions on Earth, Flash suspected he didn't seek world domination, either.

Venom got him to the park quickly and subtly—as subtle as a seven-foot-something alien could travel in the middle of the afternoon, at least. There was the occasional shout or scream during their trip, but when Venom dropped down into a nearby alley, no one followed them, and Flash's emergence—or Venom's disappearance, rather—was smooth and efficient.

Why the park? Venom asked as Flash slipped out of the alley and into a crowd of New Yorkers crossing the street in the general direction he was headed.

"Why not?" Flash responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was supposed to be here last night."

Flash found a bench tucked beneath shady trees, and he sat down with a quiet exhale. For the first time in over 24 hours, he allowed himself to relax, tension easing from his shoulders as he let the back of the bench carry the burden of keeping him upright.

"I'm gonna take a nap," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Wake me if anything happens."

Maybe Flash was placing too much trust in an alien that could take over his body just about whenever he wanted.

Sleep well, Flash.

Or maybe not.

Dreamless sleep overcame Flash in a matter of minutes. Or rather, Flash did not remember any dreams he might or might not have had after he was rudely awoken who knew how many seconds or hours later by Venom's reverberating voice.

Get up! There's someone coming.

Flash blearily opened his eyes just in time to see the most average white man in the world approaching him. Like, brown hair, brown eyes, pasty as all hell, plaid-blue-flannel-and-khakis kind of average. It was the sort of unremarkable plainness that made the guy almost…

Familiar.

"Oh, you're okay," the man said, stopping in his tracks by the right arm of the bench.

Really? Venom had woken him up for this?

There is something about that guy! I don't trust him.

"Yeah," Flash responded after a pause. He rubbed his eyes, pushing himself upright into a more traditional sitting position. "I was taking a nap."

The man nodded. "Right." He chuckled, the sound awkward. "Sorry, I saw you lying there and assumed the worst. Guess I forgot I'm not in an episode of Law & Order."

Flash snorted despite himself. "Well, in New York, you never know."

The man nodded again, then gestured to the empty spot beside Flash. "Mind if I sit?"

Flash tensed. A strange white guy who'd approached him in the park out of the blue—allegedly for good reason—now wanted to take a seat and strike up a conversation.

Talk about red flags.

Flash opened his mouth to say sorry, he had to be getting somewhere, but Venom cut him off.

No! Let him sit. I want to figure out who the hell he is and why he's…

Venom trailed off into a discontented grumble, and Flash bit back a sigh.

"Go ahead," he said, sliding over to give the man more room. Although, Flash had to admit that closer inspection revealed this guy wasn't exactly an adult—if anything, he looked around Flash's own age. 17 or 18, maybe.

His eyes, though… The heaviness they carried made the guy seem decades older.

We could take him, Venom mused. He paused. Probably.

How reassuring.

"So, uh…" the boy began, clearly a master of eloquence, "why were you taking a nap on a park bench?"

Flash opened and closed his mouth like a sad goldfish. "Warmer in the sun?" he finally offered, to which the boy laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. Good point." He offered Flash his hand to shake. "I'm Ben, by the way."

Flash responded in turn, though maybe with a more ginger grasp—this guy was still a random stranger, after all, friendliness or no. In fact, something about him kind of… Well.

Ticked off Flash for a reason he couldn't quite articulate.

I agree.

"I'm Gene," Flash said, unable to come up with a more clever pseudonym on the spot.

"Nice to meet you, Gene," the boy—Ben—said with a grin. "I'd like to apologize again for disturbing your afternoon nap."

Flash snorted. "Don't worry about it. I'd been asleep"—he pulled out his phone to check the time, damn—"almost three and a half hours, apparently."

Well, that explained the slowly setting sun around them.

"No offense, but you look like you need more than three and a half hours."

Flash's eye twitched. "Thanks."

What an asshole.

"And I mean in a soft, comfortable bed," Ben continued. "Not on a hard bench." He raised an eyebrow at Flash. "You don't strike me as the kind of guy who naps in the park on the regular, though. Why the trip today?"

Who the hell was this guy? Flash felt like the protagonist of Carmilla—both attracted to and repulsed by this stranger, who was strange both on account of his unexpected presence and his eerie familiarity that Flash still couldn't quite place.

It's because we know him.

Well, yeah, Flash had reasoned that much. If only he could figure out from where.

Flash sighed, breaking his eye contact with Ben that had already gone on for too long without reply. "I was running away."

"From someone?"

"Mm. From multiple people."

Ben nodded in understanding. "Got it. Is this permanent or temporary escapism?"

Hell, who needed therapy if a random white boy was willing to strike up a philosophical conversation with Flash in the park?

Keep him talking! I am going to figure out who he is.

Flash didn't have a damn clue how Venom intended to do that, but he soon noticed in the farthest periphery of his vision that a black tendril—slender as a spider's silk—was inching along the top of the bench toward Ben.

Yeah, this was not going to end well.

"Temporary," Flash said, speaking too quickly and replying too late. "If all goes as planned, I mean."

Ben tilted his head. "Yeah? And what happens if 'it' doesn't go as planned?"

Flash gave him an awkward smile. "Actually, it already went… pretty poorly this morning." Not that he'd had much of a plan besides begging please don't kill me on his hands and knees.

Ben nodded. "Mind elaborating just a tad on what 'it' is?" He held up his hands in faux surrender. "Only as much as you're comfortable with, of course."

That felt rich coming from the guy who'd been the one to approach Flash and start talking to him out of nowhere.

Play nice. I am almost there.

Flash didn't want to know where 'there' was.

"Sure," he said, exhaling slowly. "Can't hurt to get a second"—a third, including Venom's—"opinion."

Ben leaned back onto the bench's arm, and Flash bit his tongue to hold back a laugh at Venom's string of curses, as the action had successfully pulled Ben another foot and a half away from the symbiote's reach.

"Hit me with it," Ben said.

Yes, hit him. With your fist!

Okay, time to tune Venom out.

"Let's just say I haven't been completely honest with people I care a lot about," Flash said after a pause. "And I don't know what I should tell them."

For the briefest of seconds, Flash could've sworn he saw… grief flicker in Ben's eyes. And not the grief of sympathy, but one of understanding—raw, unfiltered, I've been where you are now and I wish you didn't have to be there, too.

Damn.

Who was this guy?

As quickly as Flash could process the strange expression, though, it vanished, replaced by a more contemplative look in Ben's eyes.

"Have you considered just being honest with them?" Ben said after a pause, and Flash reconsidered Venom's recommendation to deck the guy.

"What a novel concept," was Flash's stiff response, and Ben gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to come off as an ass. I more meant"—Ben pursed his lips—"actually, yeah, I guess I am saying you should tell them outright. Or as outright as the topic allows, anyway."

Flash laughed, bitter. "It'd be nice if it was that easy."

"Well, what's to be gained from keeping the truth from them?"

Their safety, Flash wanted to say, their lives, their well-being, but before he could respond—

"And more importantly, Gene," Ben said, sitting up to face Flash directly, "what will be lost by keeping the truth from them?"

Flash found his initial response had gotten caught on the back of his tongue. His chest burned.

Almost there…

"I have somewhere to be," Flash said after a pause. He stood up, much to Venom's dismay—

NO! I HAD ALMOST TOUCHED HIM. WE COULD HAVE RESOLVED THIS IRRITATING MYSTERY!

—but Flash couldn't bring himself to care. Not here. Not right now.

"Oh. Okay," Ben said with a hint of surprise that didn't match the curious glint of relief in his eyes. He stood, too. "Well… Good luck. It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah. You, too," Flash said, and before he could change his mind, he turned on his heel and headed straight for the nearest exit of the park.

"Hey, Gene!" Ben yelled after him. "Be careful! I heard there were sightings of some alien around here a few hours ago!"

Pulse quickening, Flash gave him a wave of acknowledgment, but he didn't look back.

Man. That guy was…

Yes, yes, he is weird and annoying. That has been established. Now where are we going?

"Betty's place," Flash said, barely sparing either side of the road a glance as he began marching through the first intersection he came across. "That guy had a point, whoever he really was."

We could have known who he was if you had spared an extra five seconds!

"Yeah, well, this can't wait," Flash said, already calculating the fastest route to Betty's house in his mind and trying to assess if he'd be better off stopping back at Midtown to pick up his car.

You plan to tell them?

Flash inhaled a shaky breath. "I have to."

This week had been hell, keeping his friends in the dark. Flash couldn't finish high school like this, always pushing them away, much less could he go the rest of his life living in perpetual panic. And yeah, maybe his friends wouldn't believe him, but—

But God if he didn't have to try.

Why Betty? What about MJ? Or Ned?

Flash snorted. "Well, Betty already knows I'm a dumbass and an asshole." Middle school tended to reveal those things about a person. "I'm still holding out hope MJ and Ned can be persuaded otherwise."

HA! Fat chance.

"Always the optimist, huh?" Flash muttered, sarcasm dripping from his voice like honey. "Try not to be quite so positive tonight."

I'll do my best.

But for all his bravado, Flash had a feeling Venom was just as nervous at the prospect of coming clean as he was. It would be terrifying, no doubt, but also…

A relief.

Things would go well. They had to.

Because Flash didn't know what he'd do if they didn't.

xXx

if a random white man approaches you in the park, kids, DON'T talk to him. unless you also have a symbiote and think you could kick his ass. even then you should be careful. anyways.

can y'all believe next chapter is the last chapter…? wack.