Spider -Man:Peter Venom

"So, fighting? What did I tell you about that, It's not like you Peter," she was mad, and she stood with her arms crossed as she glared at him.

"Aunt May, I didn't, honest, Flash's dad blew it out of proportion." May calmed down after he'd explained it all and even had a small grin when he explained how Flash had broken his ankle. That left her face when he explained that without the valedictorian spot and the four-week suspension, he'd lose out on everyscholarship that he'd applied for.

She was downright mad after Peter had finished explaining and had reached for the phone when Peter stopped her, shaking his head, "Aunt May, we can't, you can't do anything. Flash's dad is on the board at Oscorp. I lost, even with pictures and evidence to clear me, I still lost.'' 

A deflated Peter couldn't bring himself to tell her he'd spent almost all of the 250K he had, it would be better to wait until the warehouse actually looked like a startup company rather than a warzone.

"No, but I can still phone the school board about this Peter. Twice now, twice FlashThompson has cost you. I don't care if his father is a board member, I don't care if he's rich. Peter, I have to do something."

He patted her shoulder as she sat slumped at their kitchen table. "Don't worry Aunt May, it's fine." Knowing that May wouldn't let this go, "It's fine, I uh, kept it secret but, I've got a job and I've got a plan, everything is going to be okay, I promise."

It would be fine. Even without help, he had a different way to get back at Jack and the Principal. One that involved more than just a signpost through a car. One that would make a broken ankle seem like a minor scrape, Peter decided there and then that if Flash Thompson dared to make a move on him again, he wouldn't hold back this time, he would make sure Flash got what he deserved. If his life was ruined anyway, why not make Flash's life hell as well, make him feel what he was going through, make him know what hell was like.

Aunt May stared at Peter, the frown on his face and the anger that blossomed after it. "Hey, it's fine Peter, It's fine. You'll be okay." she reached over and gently patted him on the hand, taking it in her own and rubbing it with her fingers.

Peter shook his head, "yeah, sorry Aunt May, sorry, just, angry I guess," and as he leaned into her and cupped her hand with his other one, he realised he'd been thinking about doing a lot worse than wrecking a car. He needed to get a grip, needed to take back control, not just of his life, but of his anger as well. Before things got out of hand, and it was more than just a car he smashed up.

While Flash was in the hospital, high onpainkillers, Peter was actually having a blast. He'd not only gotten all the junk cleared out and crushed at the junkyard, but a huge supply of dubious whitewash had come in. Peter knew it was stolen, but after fixing half a dozenfridges, and a huge LCD TV that only needed a new starter for the internal light, he'd managed to get several huge drums of it to paint the whole floor. Sure he had to give the excess back but right now, he didn't care.

He'd even discovered a new power. Thinking back to when he strained against the concrete cemented post, his skin bled a black viscous liquid, covering him head to toe in a slick bodysuit. As it covered him he felt his muscles surge with hidden power and the post came tearing out of the ground with no effort. As he rammed it through Jack Thompson's car he heard an echo in his mind, we are strong, we are Venom. The spider bite must have been making him slightly weird but Venom was cool, he liked the sound of it.

Recalling the way he felt, the way he wanted to get back at the assholes who ruined his life he found the skin would extrude out of his pores, two weeks of suspension and he no longer needed the anger or the hate, it was now a reflexive action, responding to his will. Not just that, but as he'd raged at the car his fingers had become thick claws and as he tore with glee at the tires he burst through the rubber with no issues.

The warehouse was 100 meters each way and at night when he knew only the most diligent of security guards would be about, he upended each of the shipping containers and lay them against one wall. He then spread out the paint with a huge floor brush and opened all the windows and left it to dry. After a few days, he did the other side and with a little persuasion, he got Alexsi to part with some expanding insulation spray. He had to pay for the sprayer and mask at full price with no discount. Alexsi had squared him in the eye this time, it was only a rental but Alexsi refused to budge, the upside being that he got to keep it for as long as he needed it.

Peter knew he was being generous since Bennie had decided to leave, his mom was ill in Seattle, and he'd gone to take care of her leaving Peter to cover his work as well as make up his own. It was fine though, once he'd shown his expertise in not only mechanical and electrical repair, Alexsi had him fixingeverything from appliances to mobile phones. Peter had also made out from this deal. Alexsi had a lot of industrial machinery around, which Peter had borrowed temporarily. This let him, not just weld the big bay doors shut, but reinforce the building itself and insulate it further. He got a welder and an arc cutter and had already drawn out plans to build houses out of the storage containers.

His plans were slowly taking form, the nouveau chic of living in a warehouse was coming into fashion, and no one minded paying less for an apartment made out of a shipping container if it was warm, dry, had the amenities of a normal place, and most of all was cheaper. Peter could invite a couple of tenants into the warehouse, stay in the offices and make some decent money himself by doing nothing. He didn't need the scholarship as much anymore, well, as long as his ideas panned out.

He soon had two 20 by 20-meter hollow boxes in the warehouse, each one took a corner and he planned to make a small garden between them, with plastic sheeting and a raised platform he would make sure that watering it took care of any mould issues and it wouldn't die in the winter, it would add a little hominess to the warehouse's drab white and grey interior. He would paint it eventually but right now, white was clean and more importantly, free.

Plans upon plans were swimming in his mind and these were the easiest. He was slowly growing his abilities and wasn't even going to venture out hunting until he knew he wouldn't fall and die on his first night or be killed by a lucky knife strike. After getting into a fight with Flash he persuaded Aunt May to let him go to self-defence classes. The classes were slow, of course they were. No one expected a bunch of kids and old ladies to become MMA fighters overnight, and he had to temper his impatience. Slow and steady, as with his powers, he couldn't force lessons, even if he could afford them.

Back in their apartment, Aunt May was taking her time getting used to Peter being out of the house more than home. She knew he was working but it was nearly midnight each night before he wandered in, tired and smelling of work. Grunting a basic hello before devouring her home-cooked offerings and heading to bed. Most days he was gone before she even got up. It was good to see him work but at the same time, it was worrying he wasn't taking any breaks. 

Tapping her finger on the kitchen table, she was going to interfere and while Peter might hold it against her this time, she was worried. Picking up the phone she flicked through the list of contacts that she took from Peter's phone. "Yes hello, this is May Parker, Peter's Aunt, can I speak to Gwen please."

Giving Gwen the address Peter hung out at most seemed like cheating, she'd been online and checked out the junkyard he worked at, repairing old appliances was fine, Ben had started off fixing kids bikes before moving up into a car mechanic, and she thought nothing was wrong with working your way up.