Chapter 36 - When It Rains, It Pours

Peter stared pensively as he watched the black glob slowly crawl onto his hand. He waited and stared expecting it to stretch and start to engulf his body, like always, to bond with him. But as he watched, Venom stayed still, as if deliberating something, Venom ever so slowly climbed the cuff of his clothes and made its way to his top pocket.

Finding just the right place Venom went still before hiding from sight, without someone knowing Venom was there, no one would suspect a thing. Peter quietly watched as Venom did all this, to say he was shocked might have been an exaggeration, but Peter was definitely stumped.

What had changed? What could have possible changed? Every time, without exception Venom would always bond with Peter first chance it got. Sure it had tried to kill him many a times when it was bound to Eddie, but it had tried to bond with him at every turn.

"I know I've got one of those faces you can trust, but I didn't think I was that convincing." Talking down to the glob that still hadn't bonded with him, Peter let out a small smile. 'Could I possibly have reformed it?' The thought raced through his head as he thought of the days he spent talking to Venom.

Of course Venom never responded, because it just couldn't, it was a blob after all, and in a jar under cement. But Peter hadn't been able to talk to it for a long time after Laura turned up, he may have trusted her a fair amount, but he couldn't risk her knowing about Venom.

Something which he noted might not have mattered, looking down at his clothes. Pushing that to the back of his mind for the moment, seeing as he couldn't for the life of him figure it out, Peter once again started to think about what happened in the warehouse.

Now that his fears about Venom were slightly abated, his fears for Laura skyrocketed. Spending the next hour combing the place for anything, he came up with nothing. The closest thing he could find to people having been there was hair.

There were strands of it littered around the place, some long enough to be Laura's, but some shorter and a different color. That was his only clue and it could possible lead him nowhere. Finally moving out of the warehouse, which he might never return to, he looked at the street around for any clues.

Spotting no cameras, tire marks, or really anything that could be off help, Peter let out a defeat sigh. If there were some camera's he could get Crystal to hack into them easy. But this side of town usually didn't have that type of luxury.

'Have I failed another person' The thought came unbidden into his mind and a heavy atmosphere seemed to wrap around him as he made his way from the area. Peter hadn't gotten close to a lot of people after Aunt May died, so for one of them to disappear like this, it bought ugly thoughts to his head.

Suddenly losing the motivation to continue his patrol for another hour or two, Peter slowly made his way back to the park. He needed to think right now, he needed the quiet. Just a hundred meters from the park, the clouds above started to churn and darken and peter couldn't help but swear under his breath.

"Of course it's bloody raining." Shaking his head he trudged his way through the ever increasing downpour. "It was a clear day, like 5 seconds ago, what the fudge" Finally within sight of his trusty home, he froze on the spot.

Turning to scan the area, he felt his heart drop even more in the cold weather. His eyes easily picked up the bullet holes that littered the ground and where his bench used to sit. Of course it was still there, but half of the back was chipped and destroyed now. Some of the planks that he would lie down on were also chipped and cracked.

Moving closer and looking down at his wood be home, Peter knew deep in his heart that he couldn't stay here any longer. The thought sent a wave of sadness through him, as this had been his home for the last few months. It looked like some type of gang war had taken place in the park destroying the area.

Small blotches of blood were littered over the place, but there were no signs of bodies. Peter sported a small frown for a second as he thought about where the bodies could be. He knew in a gun fight like this, there were bound to be quite a few casualties.

Following the carnage around him and looked at the evidence before him, he slowly moved over to a large oak that was only a few meters away. Seeing the chipped bark and bullet holes that riddled the trunk, he knew someone had hidden behind here.

Not giving it much thought he rounded the trunk to see if there was any blood, but froze once again as he spotted the destroyed mirror on the ground. Looking like something a woman would use, a small thought popped into Peter's mind that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Natasha?" He voiced the thought as more rain started to come down around him. Slowly lowering himself to pick up the mirror, he looked at the cracked item and closed his eyes. His emotions went into turmoil as he thought of the red head he met every other day.

She had been away for a few days so there was no proof that she had turned up today. There was also no other reason to believe that she had been here. He knew that, but with the mirror in hand his thoughts drifted off to the worst possible conclusion.

Before he knew it Peter was clasping the broken mirror so tight in his hand that it was bleeding. 'Will everyone close to me be hurt?' 'Will every home I make be destroyed?' His thoughts went darker and darker as he stood there trying to calm down.

Unbeknown to him with his eyes closed; Venom had peaked out from the spot inside his jacket and turned to face him. As if hesitating for a short while, it continued to look at him before slowly receding.

Peter continued to stand in the rain for an unknown amount of time, just the patter of rain on dirt to break the silence. He would have continued that way, trapped in his own head if not for the sudden darkness that covered him.

The rain that had been cascading down on his head was blocked as an umbrella was raised above his head. *Patter* *Patter* The sound of rain hitting the umbrella rang out and made Peter slowly open his dim eyes.

He looked at the old hand that raised the umbrella above him and followed it down to look into the wizened eyes of a grey hair old man. He said nothing as both stood there, before the old man spoke. "You seemed to be troubled, youngster."