Symbiote Blues update

Jane Foster was trying to decide whether or not to call the rest of the Avengers when she heard the security system beep with Peter’s entry. Her initial response was thankfulness that he was alright. It’d been two hours since he was supposed to come in and take over for her on monitor duty. It was nothing new for an Avenger to get held up, or to come by early if there were nothing better for them to do, but as the hours ticked on, she’d really started to worry. 

Maybe Spider-Man had finally taken on an enemy he couldn’t beat. More than once, she had browsed through news feeds and TV channels, looking for any story on Spider-Man. But now, thankfully, he was there and ready for his shift.

Jane’s feeling of relief quickly passed. Now annoyance came rushing in. He had left her hanging without so much as a phone call. 

“Oh, you’re still here?” Peter quipped easily as he walked into the situation room.

Jane felt her blood pulsing in her temples and she bit back a sharp reply. Maybe he had a good excuse. But if he did, he had better say it quickly. “Yes. Just like I was two hours ago, when you were supposed to be here.”

Peter didn’t look at her, bending over the console she sat at and logging her out. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure you did fine.”

The way he tapped out his answer like it was oh-so-clever infuriated Jane. She couldn’t help herself. “What kept you? This is completely unprofessional, Parker! You had a duty!”

Peter remained silent, backing away from the computer now that he’d logged into the system. Jane stared at him, seething with anger. She didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t want to antagonize him further, but on the other hand, she knew she was owned an explanation.

“I was busy,” Peter said finally. Jane snapped. His insultingly simplistic words stung her, as did his lack of feeling for her concern and her time. 

“Then why the hell didn’t you call me and let me know you were going to be late? I nearly sent out a search party. Your bad manners could’ve tied up important Avengers resources. And now you’re acting like I’m some harpy for wanting an explanation!” Her words tumbled out nearly incoherent, lanced out of her by Jane’s rising anger, and afterward, she felt herself trembling.

“Look, I’m here now, alright? If you’ve got a problem, bring it up at the next team meeting. If you really had someplace to be for the last two hours, you definitely don’t seem to be in a hurry to get there now.”

“No, I’ve waited two hours to bring this up, I’m not waiting another second!” Jane cried, giving full vent to her fury. “You come in here, two hours late, and all you’ll say is that you were busy? You must think I’m a real jackass if I’ll accept an explanation like that! Maybe Captain America should hear about the lack of respect you have for your fellow Avengers!”

Peter sighed. “Listen, lady, can the hysterics. I got tied up in my own private business and I couldn’t get away to make a phone call without it being suspicious. I’m sure you’re not about to lecture me on having a secret identity—most of the team has one. They’re not going to care that I bent one little rule to keep mine safe. I show up when Kang is knocking down buildings; who gives a shit if I can’t make it to every little pow-wow on time?”

“So I’m hysterical now?” Jane demanded. “Why didn’t you at least call before you came over? Did you lose your phone too?”

“No, I just didn’t see the point of holding myself up more, just to call and say I was on my way. I’m here now, I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you, let’s drop it.”

“Let’s not! If you’d been stuck here all this time, actually doing your job, worried about where I was, maybe you’d be hysterical yourself!”

“Maybe, but I doubt I’d bitch about it so much,” Peter retorted.

Jane gasped. “And why the hell shouldn’t I bitch, huh? You haven’t even apologized!”

“Why should I apologize?” Peter asked smoothly. “It’s not my fault I got tied up; I have a personal life. I know that isn’t a big deal for you, with that lump in your brain, but I need to worry about what my life’s going to be like five years from now.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that! Don’t you dare!” Jane hissed. She knew she was letting her emotions run wild, but she couldn’t stop herself. Not only did she have her cancer to deal with, making her time as Jane Foster miserable as usual, but the last two hours had doubled her worry with concern for Peter as well. 

Maybe under other circumstances, she would’ve accepted his excuse and gone along to get along. But now, she felt like she had to have it out with him—that she might never get another chance to respond to his disrespect, not in this life.

“Jane,” Peter said threateningly, “I’m sick and tired of your tirade. Shut up and go shave your head or something.”

Jane felt lacerated by his cold tone. All the worry she’d felt for him well and truly curdled, bitterness leaping to the forefront of her mind and pushing away all her usual civility. “You’re sick and tired? I’m tired! I have cancer! You think you can treat me like I have no feelings, like I don’t matter, just because I’m ill? You think it doesn’t matter how you treat me because I’m going to be dead soon?”

“Yes,” Peter said to her blazing eyes, the utter loathing in her voice.

“You fucking cocksucker!” she raged.

“It’s time for you to go,” Peter said, taking a step toward her, reaching out to grab her shoulder and force her out the door.

“Keep your hands off me!” Jane shrieked, jerking for her cane.

Peter responded instinctively, his shirtsleeve turning into symbiote black as it shot out a webline to the simple wooden cane that did the switcheroo to Mjolnir and ‘Thor’. In this form, though, anyone could handle it—and Peter did, whipping it up out of reach, then webbing it to the ceiling.

“Oh hey,” Peter said blithely, “now your superpower sucks.”

Jane actually reached for the cane, but like most rooms in Avengers Mansion’s underground chambers, the ceiling was fifteen feet high—ample room for Giant-Man, Hulk, and just about every other reserve member. She had to lower her hand. And now, she realized how Peter was looking at her.

He’d been irritated with her before, this amateur superhero, who’d clearly only gotten her power because she’d been Thor’s squeeze. Acting like she was some high and mighty veteran just because she had the real Thor’s power. She’d been an Avenger for what, thirty seconds? He’d clobbered Firelord with half as much power as she had. Yet like so many of the Avengers, she acted like she was the real hero and Peter was just the comic relief.

Then, when he’d actually asserted himself, she’d acted like he was going to hurt her. That was the last straw for Peter. So, she thought he was some thug, did she? Just another supervillain for her to wallop with her stolen hammer? He’d never given her any reason to think that. But now, he felt like being exactly the bad guy she seemed determined to treat him as.

“Still got something to say, you nagging cunt?” Peter demanded, grabbing her by the lapels.

“Let go of me!” Jane screamed, struggling desperately to break free, but in this body she didn’t have enough strength to fight cancer, let alone him.

She didn’t look half-bad, though. Despite the terminal diagnosis, the cancer’s real damage was yet to be done. She was still quite sexy, in fact, her breasts lush and firm, her waist slender above curvy little hips and short but sleek legs. Peter thought he almost liked her better as a petite brunette than as a Thor-themed stripper.

“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” Peter snarled, and slapped her across the face. Not even with any real strength, just to let her know how things stood now.

Jane stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe she had just taken a hit from the guy she had been calling a bastard for the last five minutes.

“You… you piece of shit! You hit me!” she gasped in disbelief.

“Occupational hazard. I thought you wanted to be an Avenger,” Peter said. “Don’t worry, though. What I’m going to do now you’ll like a lot more…”