But… It’s me! The real Spider-Man!

Just as I was about to start pestering Mary Jane in the shower, the nasty sound of the doorbell rang throughout the apartment.

"What the hell?" I blurted out. Why can't you just let me spend an hour with my girlfriend? I've got enough on my plate!

So, after a quick wipe and towel, I headed for the door, leaving M.J. alone in the shower to meet the uninvited guest. When I opened the door, I found a worried Bobby.

"Peter, I'm sorry to bother you, but I don't know who else to call," she blurted out, "I need help."

"Come in," I said with a heavy sigh, "I'll get dressed."

M.J. peeked out the shower door, obviously deciding whether or not she needed to finish her ablutions in a hurry, too, so she wouldn't miss anything.

"Who's there?" The girl inquired.

"It really can't be described in two words, I'll tell you later."

I got dressed in my clean clothes, and just in case, I stopped by the lab and grabbed my last working web-shooter... I wanted to make a couple of spare ones, but I only had enough material for one.

When I returned to the living room, I felt an unhealthy atmosphere, as if I was between two fires. On the one hand, Bobby was nervously looking away from me, and on the other... the reason for the awkward glances was that M.J. had found my T-shirt somewhere. And she wasn't wearing anything else. Well, maybe some underwear, I couldn't tell yet.

"I didn't have anything to wear, do you mind?" Mary Jane pressed herself against me defiantly for a kiss.

As an acquaintance of mine used to say: "the time ye git nervous aboot lassies is no whin yir tryin tae git thair knickers oaf thum that night, but whin yir tryin tae git your fuckin T-shirt oaffay thum the next mornin!" Good thing I didn't share his views, and the sight of M.J. in my T-shirt gave me a very different kind of thrill.

"Sure, kitten," I answered after the kiss. Yeah, there's nothing but a T-shirt, I checked.

"So what did you want to talk about?" I turned to Bobby.

"Peter, I came to you because I trust you, and I have nowhere else to go, but this is the first time I've seen her, and I can't trust her," Bobbie pointed to Mary-Jane, and though the criminal was nervous, there was firmness in her voice.

"Believe me, M.J. doesn't care about the secrets of your gang. Besides, I was planning on telling her what happened."

"No, Peter, this has nothing to do with the Cindy gang, I'm done with that shit. But something happened... I saw what you were capable of, I hoped you could understand, but... it's my private secret, I can't tell it to everybody, and... it's just plain dangerous."

"Is it that bad?" Bobby nodded.

Was this really all a big deal because she was trying to get off drugs? Maybe she was too embarrassed to tell outsiders about her problems.

"MJ..." I started to turn around, but didn't get a chance to say it before I was silenced by a kiss.

"I'll wait for your call," she whispered, pulling away, "remember where we left off."

"Okay, I'll try not to drag it out," I squeezed out, feeling a sharp rush of blood in my groin.

"Ugh, this better be something really important, Bobby," I said, turning around and having no idea how much serious shit my friend had gotten herself into.

*** An account of what happened to Bobby, including details Peter would never know. ***

Having parted with Parker after his daring escape from Cindy's clutches, Bobby didn't know where to go. Peter assured her he'd erased all the data on her from Stans' computer and advised her to lay low so she wouldn't be seen by the cops on the case.

It made sense, but Peter was a homeboy, he didn't understand the whole subject. Only five people could give the cops a lead on Bobby. Mumbles and One Two were her longtime associates, and together they'd started at the bottom. Bobby was as sure of them as she was of herself. Stans isn't talking because he's in a coma. Archy, Cindy's head of security, knew all about her, but she was the right girl, the one who honored the concept. The only possible threat was Cindy... she was going to do a lot of time, and the lawyer would advise the gangster to become a snitch. But if this gets out... then her own people will kill her! Cindy's not stupid. She's not gonna get herself killed.

So Bobby wasn't too worried about the cops raiding her. Then she saw a sign about a fireman's exam in two days. Once upon a time, before dropping out of school, little Bobbie had dreamed of becoming a firefighter. She had always been fascinated by the sound of the siren and the stern faces of the firemen - in their impassivity, firemen are tragic, their faces playing with the reflections of fires that are waiting for them somewhere, that have already started somewhere. Little Bobbie dreamed of becoming a firefighter, she wanted to be the hero who saves lives. But adulthood has made adjustments, Bobby has forgotten her dream and has become a small-time criminal.

Why not take advantage of this opportunity? Why not start her life with a clean slate?

In addition to the theory part, the firefighter's exam included a practical part: you had to overcome an obstacle, extinguish a fictitious fire, pull a victim out of a building, and give first aid.

Bobby perked up. She was determined to try by all means. Which meant she had to get ready!

After stopping at the hardware store, Bobby bought everything she needed to prepare for the practical part: a mechanical stopwatch, a can of gasoline, heat-resistant fire coveralls, and, of course, a victim - an inflatable rubber man.

After loading all the new things into the back of the stolen truck from the estate, Bobbie drove to the vacant lot. She knew a place that was perfect for a workout.

When she arrived at the abandoned house, Bobbie began preparations: she pulled the doll out of the trunk of the car and into the cabin, then she put on her overalls, took the canister, and doused the ramshackle barn with gasoline, both inside and out.

"In spite of everything," Bobby made up the story, "he was smoking in bed and fell asleep, heh."

Then the girl lit a match and threw it into a puddle of gasoline, smirking:

"And a fireaaaaaaaar!" she finished enthusiastically.

As soon as the fire was lit enough, the girl timed it on a stopwatch and rushed inside shouting:

"Don't let anyone in, this is serious business!" Running into the hut, she grabbed the doll and dragged it outside. "You will not die, I am here!"

Pulling the victim away from the fire, Bobbie began to massage his heart.

"Breathe, Peter, breathe," but Peter wasn't breathing, so Bobbie began to give him CPR. "He's going to live, he's going to live for sure!"

Finally rescuing the victim, Bobbie leaned back and stopped the stopwatch. She stopped the stopwatch, and a bright, shining dot in the sky caught her attention. It was unlike any other star, and the intensity of the glow was steadily increasing.

"What the hell is that?" Bobby wondered.

Finally she realized that the dot was not a star, but an asteroid rapidly approaching the earth.

"Holy shit!" Grabbing Peter in her arms, Bobbie ran away.

She ran away just in time, for a few seconds later the burning hut was shattered into a thousand flaming splinters. The shock wave from the meteorite hit Bobbie in the side of the car and knocked her unconscious, but she was luckier than poor Peter, who died in the fire after all.

*** Real time, real Peter. ***

"I woke up half an hour later to the sound of sirens, the cops were there, and I got scared - I ran away. They saw me and started chasing me, but I managed to get away by jumping to the other side of the river," Bobby said.

"And the cops didn't follow you?" I wondered.

"That's the thing," Bobby said, "the river was eight feet wide! Peter! You see, that thing on TV, it was inside me. That creature, it's called Venom - it's a symbiote, and I'm the first one it merged with."

It made my insides tighten. Not again! Fucking Venom is in my house, and I only have one fucking web-shooter... I'm defenseless against the monster. I mean, they've already gone crazy and started eating everyone indiscriminately. I need to buy some time, make it so they won't be able to kill me. And get them away from home, yes, get them away from Mary Jane!

"So he's in you now? What did you want from me?" I asked, swallowing a tight lump in my throat.

"What? No, you misunderstood, she's not with me. And you don't have to be afraid of me, wait till I tell you," Bobbie sighed, gathering her thoughts. "Anyway, Venom didn't talk to me right away. She was very badly damaged, barely alive, to be honest, and had spent all her energy crawling all the way from that asteroid to me. I didn't realize what was happening to me, I got scared and went to the hospital where we first met. I thought Stans could explain to me what had happened, but she was still in a coma."

My mind flashed back to the way Bobby had acted in the hospital the last time we had met. Shit! The Venom was already in her then! And I hadn't noticed, had written it off to drugs, though in my defense, you can't suspect every junkie of finding Richard's secret development... wait a minute, she said: "Venom crawled to her from the asteroid?" This is important!

"Wait," I began, gathering my thoughts, "you said an asteroid hit the cabin."

"Well, that's what I thought at first, but it wasn't really an asteroid, it was a piece of debris from the ship Venom was flying in. She's kind of an alien."

"Did she tell you that herself, or is that just what you think?"

"If you don't interrupt, you'll find out soon enough," Bobby said angrily. "So, if you don't care about the details, after I'd spent half my money on food and slept it off, Venom talked to me. She told me a little about their race. They're peaceful creatures, it's in their genes, because to live they need a host with whom they form a symbiosis, they give the host, well... protection, there abilities, and the host to them..."

"Habitat and food," I suggested.

"I hate to think of myself as a habitat, but, yeah, you're right. Anyway, she and I kind of hit it off, and then the trouble started."

I chuckled, imagining the kind of trouble Venom could bring, and thanks to reporters and eyewitnesses, the whole town now knows. But that's not what Bobbie meant.

"Venom was beginning to weaken, something had happened to her in the fall. She was dying, and we couldn't figure out why."

"Maybe you weren't the right host." I suggested.

"No," Bobbie exclaimed, but then, embarrassed, she added more calmly, "Venom said she was very lucky to have me, that she'd never had such a suitable host before. It was something else. I remembered about Stans, and we thought she might be able to help. We went back to the hospital, Venom examined Stans and said she would wake up in a week, but we couldn't wait, by then Venom would be dead. Anyway, Venom was able to speed up her recovery, but it cost her the last of her strength, and she went silent. I haven't heard her voice since, but I could still use her power when necessary."

"A calm and silent symbiote, doing the host's bidding," I estimated in my mind, "a miracle."

"I told Stans everything, and she promised to help. We used the equipment at the hospital to figure out what happened to Venus. No, we didn't kill anybody!" Seeing the look on my face, Bobby explained. "Anyway, Stance said she knew what was wrong, so she injected me with some kind of drug, and then something weird started happening, like Venom was freaking out. It was screaming terribly... uh, peeling off of me... it was very painful. I blacked out, and when I woke up... there were a bunch of dead bodies around me. There was a trail of blood leading from the room where I was lying to the exit-that's where Venom had passed. There was a whole platoon of soldiers in the hallway, all of them bitten off their heads. But Stans wasn't among the dead. I think she got it wrong again, and then she and Venom merged. Venom and Stance are killing people, and they're being hunted by the military and that woman in red. I don't know what to do, Peter, I feel like I should help."

"Phew," I exhaled relieved after listening to the end of the story, "I think it's better to let the military and Deadpoole figure it out on their own, they don't need your help."

"No, you don't understand! I want to help Venom! She didn't mean to kill anybody! You see, everything was fine as long as she was with me! Peter, I was hoping you could find a way to bring Venom back to her senses. I... she's suffering, Peter, I have to help her, but I don't know how."

Well, gee! I leaned back on the couch, thinking about what I heard. The Venom host is worried about the fate of the symbiote that left him - wants to help the friendly fucking Venom! From a race of friendly symbiotes. Ha! Aliens on Earth! The only contact between Earth and aliens in my memory ended up being in this world! I'd rather believe that Venom used Bobby to find himself the perfect host to match his aggression. And the alien fairy tale... bullshit, a mind born within this system can produce more than that.

"Bobby, I've got some bad news for you," I began cautiously. "Let's assume that Venom really is an alien who needs a host for symbiosis, though I can't imagine such a life form developing naturally, because creatures in symbiosis tend to atrophy all unnecessary functions. And if a parasite has developed a mind... then it doesn't need an intelligent host, it needs a slave. And your behavior speaks for itself."

"No! I'm not insane! Peter, you don't understand! Venom didn't do anything to me! Believe me!" Bobby immediately tried to convince me otherwise.

"All right, all right, let's face it. But you can't deny that a creature that is such a symbiote will spend its entire life searching for the perfect host, it must be the basis of its life activity, don't you agree?"

"I... yeah, that sounds logical," the girl agreed, not finding a catch in my logic.

"What happens when Venom finds a host more suitable than the current one?" Bobby was silent.

"Let's make an analogy. Remember that fucking Mumbles story?" Bobby looks at me puzzled, and I clarify, "about the girlfriend with the rubber dick."

"Oh, yeah."

"And how did it end, remember?" And without waiting for an answer, I explain. "The girlfriend leaves Mumbles for a real man. So the question is, who are you in this story?"

Bobby hesitated, making analogies to see where I was going with this.

"Are you saying I'm Mumbles. And Venom's girlfriend who found a better partner?" she suggested.

"No, Bobby, you're not Mumbles, you're a rubber dick! You're a temporary substitute in search of a real dick."

"I get it. Are you telling me that even if we save Venom, she won't be with me forever and will dump me as soon as she finds a better host?" Bobby spoke with a challenge, "I understand, but I still want to save her. And so does Stans. They're not villains, Peter, they can still be saved."

"I hope so," I thought. What am I supposed to do in this situation? This world throws me new problems even more often than the last one. "Wait here... uh, no, better go to the kitchen and make us some coffee."

Back in my lab, which had been enlarged thanks to the equipment Connors had borrowed, I began to think about the situation while assembling a new pair of web shooters for myself. Working with my hands helped me concentrate. So, after putting all the facts together, I drew the following conclusions.

I don't know what Venom is. He can turn out to be either a complete psychopath or a friendly symbiote who has fallen into aggression because of another Stans mistake. I also don't know his weaknesses. Whether he is afraid of sounds of the same range as my father's creation in the last world, or whether he doesn't care about any noises at all, Bobby knows nothing about it. The Venom is already being chased by the military, maybe even The Shield. Also, Deadpool needs him for something...Lady Deadpool, who also has some kind of poison that can stop the symbiote. Someone hired her? Someone who knows about the symbiotes of this world, since she has a poison that can incapacitate him. And Deadpool also has a teleportation device. I'd like to see it.

Also, I don't know how soon Gwen can deal with Reptile, but I'm pretty sure that once she gets the web, she'll be back to Venom, who might start chasing her like he chased me in a past life... maybe I shouldn't have given her web shooters.

I looked at the finished pair of web shooters in my hands. They were different: one from the first batch, exactly like the ones I'd given to Gwen, but in the second I'd added an extra feature. I figured I could use a trump card up my sleeve. Like some conductive webbing for my homemade taser, which was gathering dust here anyway. I couldn't count on much more with my current resources and time constraints. It wouldn't help against Venom, of course, but it would hold Deadpool back for a few seconds: regeneration doesn't help when your muscles contract spontaneously. And then you can wrap a simple cobweb around it, because I remember that psychotic idiot. You never know what kind of shit he'll do in the next second, listening to the voices in his crazy head.

"Pack it up, Bobby, we're going shopping, you got the money, right?" I shout as I walk back into the kitchen," Oh, my coffee, thank you... ugh, it's fucking cold!"

On the way back from the supermarket, we ran into an unexpected obstacle.

"Okay, universe, here I am-your tool! Give me a sign!" Deadpool was standing in the middle of the roadway, arms outstretched and head up to the sky.

Passersby were already staring at her and shouting curses at the car driver, for the mercenary had created a traffic jam on the road.

I didn't know whether to be happy or not. From what I can see, this version of the talkative mercenary is as beaten down as the last one, but... she's the perfect candidate to be bait. Except I still don't know why she wants Venom, and if our intentions about Venom diverge...

"Um, universe, were you trying to direct me?" After standing like that for a minute, Deadpoole continued.

I got out of the car and walked over to DeadPoole.

"I'm not a universe, but I can direct you to Venom, if that's what you're interested in."

"Holy shit, it worked!"