When Peter wakes up, the situation is less than ideal.

His body aches from the meticulous beat-down Goblin's electric gloves gave his nervous system. Every joint creaks and he feels like he's been barbecued from the inside out, but it's not the worst electrocution he's endured.

In fact, it's quite tame compared to what Electro dishes out—Peter doesn't even have much of an electric burn as far as he can tell, so Goblin must've really been holding back the voltage.

Still, it's electricity, and electricity hurts like a bitch.

Peter groans as he gradually floats back to consciousness. He blinks several times before realizing the green hue cast over the entire room is on purpose and not a trick of his eyes. It's gaudy in a villaine-eque type way, but at least Gobby is loyal to his color scheme.

The second thing he notices is that he's completely immobilized—which probably should be higher on his priority list, or at least above Goblins home decor. He grunts, pulling on the metal clamps pinning him to the slanted table, but even with his super-strength they're sturdy.

Not that he can't bust out of them right here. They're sturdy, but with just a little more strength they'd break easily enough, but Peter can't do that because across the room, Goblin's immense shoulders walk among shelves of chemical vials and equipment. He'd probably notice it if Puny Parker crushed a metal table with his bare hands.

Peter doesn't recognize the room he's in. It's all low-lights and shadows, most of the light coming from the green-hued lights illuminated from panels and the hexagon-shaped screens taking up an entire section of a wall. An expanse of equipment is placed neatly around the room too, from microscopes and flasks organized on tables, to smoothly-running generator's and engines stacked in the corner. For all his love of violence and chaos, Goblin sure has his lab safety down.

It takes Goblin a few minutes to notice Peter is awake and struggling, and quickly changes direction towards him.

"Ah," he says, his deep, hair-raising voice booming off the walls like a mini-bomb as he opens his arm in a gesture. "Welcome home, son."

Peter presses himself into the table, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Despite the many calming techniques Danny has tried to teach him, his heart spikes with every step closer Goblin takes.

"What do you want?" Peter asks, not even needing to fake his nervousness. He doesn't need to pretend when he's literally shaking in his shoes. Nothing good ever comes from spending time with Goblin—Peter can only imagine the things Goblin would do if he realized he had Spider-Man pinned down, not just Peter Parker.

"Let me go!" Peter tugs on the clamps again, forcing himself not to break them even as every cell in his body tells him to run away. Goblin's words finally sink in and Peter stares at him in bewilderment. "Wait, did...did you say son?"

"The son I've always wanted," Goblin says, coming to a stop next to Peter—why is he so fucking huge—"Harry and I share a few recessive genes, but nothing more," he drops the tools he'd been carrying on a small, mobile-table nearby, "You're smarter, more driven, and as a wimpy defenseless kid, you'll appreciate power. You can be a greater creation than the late, great Spider-Man!"

Peter tries not to choke on his tongue.

Don't be suspicion. Don't be suspicious. Don't be suspicious.

When Goblin turns to face him, Peter doesn't think he understands the irony of what he just said, but it still hits too close to home to be comfortable. His spider-sense is a spasmodic jerk up and down his spine and skull, but he doesn't need it to know something bad is about to happen. He can feel it in the air. See it in the all-too creepy way Goblin keeps looking at him.

Peter wars with himself, debating on whether he should endure whatever Goblin is planning, or throwing all caution to the wind and getting the hell out of dodge—alter ego? Never heard of it.

But while every inch of his body is pleading for him to get out of there, the root of Peter's fears keep him planted to the table. Aunt May will never be safe. Neither would MJ. Goblin knows where to find them. It's bad enough Harry is involved as it is, Peter can't handle Aunt May and MJ getting caught up in it too. Besides, Goblin doesn't know Peter's secret, so it's probably better to wait until SHIELD tracks him down before doing anything rash.

But whatever is taking them so long they need to fix it fast, because Goblin has an injection gun and Peter's stomach drops to his feet, leaning as far away as he can from the needle.

What the hell am I supposed to do???

Goblin chuckles softly, positioning the hollow-point of the needle against the crook of Peter's arm. Peter clenches his fist, as good as that does him, and a spasm of fear slams into his chest as Goblin pulls the trigger and the needle sinks into his skin. A noise pulls out of Peter's throat, caught between a wheeze and a whimper, as the writhing black fluid inside the tube is pushed into his bloodstream.

"Wha - what did you just put in me?" Peter demands when Goblin pulls the injection gun back, a slip of hysteria threading through his voice. "What am I doing to turn into?"

Spider-Goblin? The human spider? A duck?! The outcomes were limitless given how much crazy is bouncing around Goblin's skull.

Goblin doesn't bother answering and Peter doesn't bother asking again, because a sharp tingling sensation is growing from the injection point, sweeping up his arm like he was human pincushion and someone was sticking thousands of little needles into his body. The veins in his arm bulge, the fluid riding through his bloodstream, standing out on his skin like spilled ink on paper. There is something moving under his skin, pushing against the layer of tissues, probing around his body. The prickling sensation quickly escalates into something searing hot that makes Peter's insides boil.

And it only gets worse from there. Peter cries out, thrashing against the clamps, unable to stop himself from denting them. The sensation infecting his body crawls up his throat and into his brain, down his esophagus and fills his lungs, poisoning his heart. It eats him up, inch by inch, blood cell by blood cell, as thick black strands seeping out of his pores and begin wrapping is body like a cocoon. He almost doesn't hear it when Goblin chuckles and finally answers Peter's long forgotten question.

"Just an old family recipe."

Black tendrils creep up his body, covering his face even as Peter tries to recoil from it, and if it were possible, the pain only magnifies. As the dark mass envelopes him, he's lost in a vastness of agony and murky substance. The black film over his eyes sharpens into sudden clarity and he can see again, but it's with a painstaking start he realizes it's through the eyes of another. Red veins sprout over the black goop encasing him, exploding into pockets of crimson that mesh with the black. Spikes shoot out of his arching body before siding seamlessly back in.

Something is moving with him. Something different. Something alive. A movement over his body that he remembers all too well when from the night Venom took control of him, however briefly it was. A presence presses up against his mind like an unwanted thought, getting stronger and stronger, whispering in his ear. His pain become its pain. The mask over his face cuts into jagged teeth and his screams evolve into hair raising shriek's that pass through the symbiotes vocals.

Goblin watches from the side, a mixture of intrigue and surprise. Despite the many sensations pulsating throughout Peter's body, one stands out among them. Anger. Did Goblin not expect this? Had he shoved some cocktail of chemicals into his body just to see what would happen?

The shrieking gets louder in his anger and with the symbiotes added strength, their arms burst from the clamps like they're made of playdough. They quickly tear their legs free and fall from the table and into a crouch as they hit the floor. An overwhelming sense of energy and anxiety sweeps through them, riding seamlessly alongside the pain, and they're struck with an over-powering desire to be somewhere safe. But they have no idea where to look.

So they surge forward on a whim, shrieking and screaming. They run unto a cupboard of chemicals, knocking off shelves and crushing vials with the tendrils growing out of their back. Spinning, they jump, seeking higher ground. Distance is their friend and height is their sanctuary.

But the screens they jump on aren't stable and break under their weight, crashing onto the floor with them. They're on their feet again in seconds.

Something big watches them. A giant green creature. They recognize it. It had hurt them, so they will hurt it back. Anger, pain, confusion—a cluster of emotions that spur them foward. Goblin is the reason this is happening. He is the reason their skin is on fire and their mind is broken in splinters. They will make him feel the pain they are feeling. They will skin him alive and devour his organs. Listen to his screams as he listens to theirs now.

But Goblin is fast, dodging their attack with a grunt. "Whoa," he says, and a grin splits his face. A maniacal curve of his lips as though they pleased him. He thrust out his hand, zapping them with electricity, making the pain so much worse. "OBEY SYMBIOTE!"

They stop. Goblin is strong and can still hurt them. They need to be careful. Anger bubbles under their skin and their throat thirsts for something to wet it. The urge to sink their claws into something soft and fleshy is immense, but not as immense as the strange urge to listen to this creature too. Something about Goblin that makes them sit up in attention. Unsure if they approve of this feeling, they crouch low, hissing. Observing. For now.

"Perfect," Goblin exclaims, eyes glinting. "Look at the absolute carnage you've wrought! I-" he pauses with a thoughtful hum. "Carnage." He rolls the words around in his mouth. "I like it."

A red flash from one of the fallen screens grabs Goblins attention. A news channel is rolling footage of a red and blue figure climbing out a mound of debris. Spider-Man. It is Spider-Man. They are Spider-Man. A team of brightly dressed people help him out of a fallen building. A building that had nearly crushed Host this morning.

Goblin growls, clenching his fists in fury. "Still alive? NO!"

He crushes the screen under his foot, staring at Carnage with a new fire in his eyes.

"Find him," Goblin commands. "Hunt him. Rip him to shreds. Bring me Spider-Man's bloody carcass, then you can be part of the family."

A thrill of excitement races up their spine. Their desire to move, fight, and kill throbs in every inch of their limbs and they screech eagerly, turning to seek a way out of this room to begin their hunt. They can't kill Spider-Man. They are Spider-Man. Host is Spider-Man. Carnage needs their Host. Likes their Host.

But maybe they can find someone else.

Far beneath the squirming mess of the symbiote, Peter feels himself jerk back to reality. "No!" He cries, fighting against it, forcing himself to pull away from the symbiotes urges. Pain explodes over his limbs, turning everything white and brutal, and he is pulled more tightly into the symbiotes grasp. A fish hooked to a line. Whatever this symbiote is, it isn't like Venom. Peter had been able to break free of Venom.

This, whatever this symbiote is, is stronger and far more determined. It pulls him back easily as two long tendrils burst from their back and they jump, leaping from the wall, running along the rafts, and jumping through the broken stained-glass window near the top of the ceiling.

The impact of the wind hits them like a rushing car, but the fresh air only fills their lungs. They leap into open space with high screeches of delight, swinging from building to building. The streets below are overrun with people. So many bodies unaware of the predator soaring above them. It tingles through their body with sadistic glee, but they can't descend on them yet. Goblin is dangerous and he has things that can hurt them. But he also understands their desire for blood. Their lust for a fight. He has sent them on a hunt.

So they will listen...for now. They will find someone to bring to Goblin because it can't be their beloved Host.

Goblin has a son, and Host likes the son, too, which appeals to the symbiote. Perhaps both will be happy if they took Harry Osborn instead.

Host squirms again, struggling a second time to wrestle control. He argues, telling them not to go after Harry, but the symbiote can tell how much Host cares for Goblin's offspring. Host cares for Harry very much and it will calm Host down to know Harry is safe.

So, the symbiote hushes him. They will hunt down Harry Osborn. It is decided.

They switch directions, heading to Oscorp Tower. The burn in their limbs is a growing itch in the back of their head—an itch that can only be satisfied through action. They longed for something to sink their teeth into. They are hungry. So, when the building comes into view and a group of people are already inside waiting, they trill excitably.

But first, they zero in on the red-haired boy they recognize from Host's memories. Harry is surrounded by others. SHIELD agents, all holding weapons. They will be the first to go.

They incapacitate the agents quickly until only one is left, a man with one eye, who they lift off the ground as he shoots at them. Screeching, they throw him across the room and he hits a wall on the far side with enough force to crack the drywall. The man is out cold.

"That is not Venom," one of the brightly dressed individuals say—Powerman, it is—and the rest of the team step in front of Harry when Their eyes narrow on him.

"This is a symbiote," Harry says, blue eyes peeping over their shoulders. "But-" those eyes widen in horror, "No, Pete!"

The symbiote trills in agreement. That's right. Harry knows who they are. Know who Host is. Harry is a good human and will make Goblin happy, and will make Host happy too. The symbiote preens, confident it made the right choice.

Now to take care of the team standing in the way.

Several of Their tendrils are blocked by a wooden table as They reach for Harry, but it breaks easily under Their strength. White Tiger pushes Harry to the side, just as they almost reach him. They lurch forward, jumping from side-to-side, before lunging to grab Harry again. White Tiger pushes Their Harry again, this time into the waiting arms of Iron Fist, and jumps out of the way as They pierce the ground she'd been standing on.

They land with a low, screeching hiss, but jerk to the side as Powerman comes to their left, using a tendril to lift Themselves into the air. Heights are safe, but Nova is up there with Them, and They knock into his shoulder when he tries to grab Them, shoving him into a wall.

Dropping from the ceiling, They go after Iron Fist this time. If they won't let Them take Harry, then They'll get rid of them first.

Harry is Theirs.

Much to Their chagrin, Iron Fist dodges each attack and manages to land a hard kick to Their face, making Them stumble back with a growl. But They regain their footing, using their claws to surge forward, right on top of Iron Fist, aiming for his chest.

But Iron Fist smiles and his fist illuminates in gold. He punches Them square in the chest, sending Them careening through the air. They use several tendrils to catch Themselves, latching onto the walls, ceiling, and floor, keeping Them suspended off the ground. The team is proving harder to deal with than They thought.

"This Venom indeed seems different," Iron Fist says, expression uneasy.

Powerman sprints up the stairs to the next landing, which would've given him the higher ground. Heights are Their safety. They latch onto the wall right in front of him and pull themselves forward, hitting the wall with enough force for the drywall to explode into dust. Despite Their surprise attack, Powerman tackles them down the stairs, pulling his arm back for a punch.

But They're smarter than that. Several spikes surge out of Their body in defense and Powerman recoils, "Eugh - definitely pointier."

They punctuate his sentence with a kick to his chest and Powerman lands on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Their senses tingle and They roll to the side as several streaks of blue light hit the spot They'd been. They climb the stairs, leaping onto the banister, then back onto the wall, following each blast up to Nova, but the boy still manages to dodge when They lunge for him.

"And peppier," he adds, but isn't fast enough to avoid the tendril They wrap around his chest and slam him into the ground. He lands on the sofa with a grunt, rubbing the back of his helmet. "I'm guessing too much caffeine," he groans.

They flip back onto the main floor, falling into a crouch, and then running after White Tiger. She jumps off the wall and uses it to back flip behind Them, but They protect Their back with more tendrils, that she slashes before they cut through skin. White Tiger rolls with each hit and uses her momentum to propel Them over her head, but they stick to the wall and leap away, hunching low to the ground.

The heroes regroup.

"Or," White Tiger says, standing in front of them, "Goblin improved on the original formula."

They all scatter like insects when They jump into the fray. Iron Fist moves backward, regaining his footing, and lunges with his glowing fist. But They know his tricks now, and before he makes contact, several strands wrap around his chest and They through him into a bookcase. With him out of the way, They wrap two tendrils around Powermans wrist, keeping them apart when he tries to bring them together, and They yank Themselves forward, hitting him in the chest feet-first. Powerman hits the wall and They use the momentum to spring backward, but as soon as Their feet hit the floor, White Tiger is on Them, her claws in Their face. But They grab her arm and kick her off.

She kids across the floor, maneuvering her body and using her arms to spring back up, landing on the bookshelf in a crouch. She flips again when They destroy the bookcase, landing on the couch, rolling off, and sprinting towards them.

What she isn't anticipating is Them lifting the bookshelf over her head and smashing it back on top of her. She disappears amongst the broken piles of wood and books, hitting the ground hard.

With a shout, Nova flies at Them, shooting beams of light. Those blasts are unpleasant. They burn and sear Their skin. They step to the side and catch him by his middle. Nova squirms in Their hold, and they contemplate throwing him like the others, but hesitates. The rest of the team is still getting to their feet and aren't ready to launch a counter attack.

Nova is open. Vulnerable. Squirming. They trill at the feeling of having this human at Their mercy, and regard him with a cold, feral grin as sharp, razor-like claws grew from their fingertips.

It wouldn't take much to get him to bleed. Their skin bubbles with the need. They've been fighting this whole time, but such little blood was spilled. Their fingers twitch, searching all the different areas they can stab and rip apart. Host is trying to fight, but They have been nice enough already.

Before They can distribute Their first cut, a loud "NO!" catches their attention. It's a familiar voice, ringing with panic, reminding Them why They are here in the first place. They toss Nova to the side and turn to Harry, who is staring at them with wide eyes.

They stalk forward, mouth parting to release a pleased hiss as their tendrils reach to grab him. Harry backs up, holding his hands to his chest, palms out and eyes wide.

"Stop!" he shouts and They...stop.

There is something about Harry. More than just Host knowing him. Harry is more. They have a...connection. An invisible link that still tethers them together.

They've been bonded before.

They see it in his eyes.

Harry knows this too. His eyes harden and his back straightens. Host knows that look. Host loves that look.

"I said stop," Harry repeats when They try to grab him again. It's both frustrating and natural as They step away, tilting Their head to listen. This is so strange. They have a mission. They need to bring Harry back to Goblin, but...but Harry is bonded to them too. Harry knows Them.

"You know who I am," Harry says and They trill and agreement, excitement driving away the sizzling pain in their veins. "You're Venom. You're just...different. I don't know what my dad did, but we still have a bond. You can feel it too." He holds out his palms and They take an anxious step back.

But Host. They love Host. They are from Host.

But Harry....Harry loves Them too.

Hesitantly, They reach Their tendrils out, touching his skin.

"That's right," Harry says, expression steely and firm, and when They're faced with no resistance, the symbiote trills, moving over to his body eagerly. Harry is familiar. They remember him. They have been bonded before. They knew each other.

Goblin called them Carnage, but he was strong. They are Venom.

"We're friends," Harry continues, watching the symbiote crawl up his arm and down his torso. "We're family." As the symbiote reconnects with him, the red recedes and their shrieks fall away. There is no pain with Harry. His blood his nice and homey. His body is a safe haven.

Peter Parker is where they come from. He is the original. But Harry never turned them away. Harry had accepted them first.

Harry is their Host.

But...Peter is their Host too.

In a moment of panic, the symbiote cut off the tendrils connecting Them to Harry, whining. A feeling of such confusion and anxiety hit Them that they stumble away. Instead of letting Them retreat, Harry bursts forward, tackling them to the floor. He digs his hands into the symbiote, fingers curling as if to pry it off himself.

"Come back to me," Harry says, a twinge of desperation lacing his words. "Let him go. Please. Leave Peter alone, you can have me instead."

The symbiote tries to resist. As much pain as they and their Host are in, Parker is their Host. They belong to him. They were a part of him.

But somehow, somewhere along the way, they had become of part of Harry too. The symbiote holds off a few seconds longer for its walls cave in and the rest of it follows, pulling away from its original Host until Peter collapsed onto the floor with a loud, pained gasping. He curls in on himself, groaning, skin covered in a layer of sweat.

It takes a moment for the ghosting remnants of pain to leave him, and he slowly pulls himself up onto his arms, panting heavily. He's only bonded to a symbiote once before, but it hadn't kept him locked up like that. He hadn't been able to break for at all. Having this symbiote was like forcing something back on him that just doesn't fit right anymore.

A deep, dark voice has Peter looking up and his stomach drops.

"We are Venom," a large, looming figure stands over him. The narrows white eyes stare down at him, sharp teeth glistening in the light. When it looks at Peter, still curled in on himself, breathing heavy and face pinched in pain, its expression becomes one of rage. "We are going to END THIS!"

A large black hand grabs Peter by the shirt, hauling him up. "Whoa, whoa, Harry—" Peter tries as he's tucked under a giant, muscley arm and carried to the shattered window. He scrambles for leverage, trying to pull himself away, stammering an objection, as Venom jumps out of the building.

The last thing he sees from the Osborn penthouse is the alarmed, and equally exasperated, looks of his team.

"No, not again!" Peter yelps as they hit open air.

Chaotic-space-cowboy from Tumblr has a headcanon that the reason Carnage was shrieking so much in that episode was because Peter was in pain. I absolutely love that take and wanted to include it in this retelling. So, basically, when injected into Peter's body, the symbiote has a strange negative response to him, and vice versa for Peter. Seeing how the symbiote still originally came from Peter, it stays connected to him, but it's very painful for both. 

So, yeah, anyway, there's chapter two! :D Hope you guys enjoyed! Next chapter will be out in a few days.