Toby was determined to be the shield that preserved the light in this small house.
On the third floor, inside a game room Toby had custom-remodeled, the two cousins sat side-by-side, controllers in hand.
In front of Ben and May, Peter was often reserved, the picture of the dutiful nephew. But alone with Toby—an older brother in everything but blood—the floodgates opened. Peter's natural "Spider-Man" verbosity was already manifesting, even without the mask.
Peter did most of the talking, hopping from topic to topic. He spoke about his self-taught photography and the new camera he'd bought with the allowance Toby gave him, hoping to land some freelance gigs.
Then, the conversation drifted to Mary Jane. He spoke with a breathless, teenage wonder about her vibrant red hair and the way the light caught it when they first met.
Toby listened in silence, his expression unreadable. He felt no spark of interest in Mary Jane. If anything, he harbored a lingering cynicism toward her. In most iterations of the multiverse he remembered, Mary Jane was a professional damsel—a "Vase" character who was as likely to break a hero's heart as she was to be kidnapped by a goblin.
Peter, sensing Toby's lack of enthusiasm for the "MJ" topic, smartly pivoted.
"Anyway, Gwen asked me to check with you after school yesterday. She wanted to know if you're free this weekend."
"She's interning at OsCorp now, you know? She said Dr. Curt Connors is holding a private Q&A for the interns tomorrow. As his assistant, she gets two guest passes. She wants us to go."
Peter looked at his cousin with a sheepish grin. "I mean, I know she's really just asking you, and I'm the tag-along. But I'd give anything to hear Connors speak up close. So... will you go? For me?"
Toby looked at Peter's pleading eyes and gave a small nod. "Sure, Pete. I'll go."
Peter nearly leaped off the sofa in excitement.
The story of how Toby—an MIT graduate and professional "fixer"—became close with a girl two years his junior was a long one. Their meeting hadn't happened in a classroom or a library. It had happened in the shadows of Hell's Kitchen, tied to Toby's identity as the mercenary Venom-Spider.
Two years ago, Kingpin had hired Toby for a routine cleanup: a rival gang leader who had just been released from prison.
As fate would have it, that gang leader had been put behind bars by Gwen's father, Captain George Stacy. Seeking the ultimate revenge, the criminal didn't attack the police precinct; he went after the Captain's daughter.
Gwen was snatched off the street on her way home from school.
The kidnapper didn't just want to kill her. He wanted George Stacy to suffer. He spent hours setting up a "scene"—lighting, cameras, the works—intending to record her violation and send it to the Captain.
It was the classic villain's mistake: talking too much and doing too little.
Toby hadn't set out to be a hero that night. He had lingered at home, finishing a quiet dinner with his parents before heading out to fulfill the contract. He was late, by his standards.
When he arrived at the warehouse, the idiot was still fiddling with his tripod.
Toby wasn't a "good guy" anymore. He lived for the paycheck. But even a cold-blooded mercenary has a line. Seeing a teenage girl trembling in the corner while a madman adjusted a lens didn't sit right with him. It was a waste of his time.
Before the criminal even realized another soul was in the room, Toby moved. In a blur of motion, he brought a massive palm down on the man's head, driving his skull into his chest cavity with a sickening crunch.
Toby untied Gwen and prepared to vanish. But as he leaned over to cut the ropes, he made a mistake.
Gwen Stacy wasn't like other girls. Even in the throes of trauma, her mind was working. She didn't just faint; she looked. She memorized the height, the build, and most importantly, the scent—a very specific, expensive woodsy incense Toby's mother used in their home.
A few weeks later, Gwen smelled that same scent on her classmate, Peter Parker. But the build didn't match. Peter was a scrawny kid; her savior had been a mountain.
She followed the scent to the Parker house, where she met Toby.
She had walked right up to him, using her hand to block out the top half of his face, measuring his height against the doorframe. Then, she leaned in and sniffed his shirt. The "I know it's you" look on her face was undeniable.
Since then, Gwen had used her friendship with Peter as a permanent invitation to the Parker household. Ben and May had initially hoped she was Peter's girlfriend, but they soon realized the blonde girl was only there for their son.
The old couple took every opportunity to leave the two of them alone, playing matchmaker with embarrassing enthusiasm.
Despite Gwen's clear affection, Toby had remained a stone wall. He hadn't responded to her advances, acting like a man who was emotionally illiterate.
It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive. It was a matter of pragmatism. Two years ago, she was sixteen. In his mind, that was a line he wouldn't cross.
But Peter was eighteen now. Which meant Gwen was an adult.
Toby leaned back, his mind wandering. He wasn't a desperate "simper" who felt the need to chase every female lead in the Marvel universe. He had money, power, and whenever he worked for Fisk, the Kingpin was more than happy to supply any "company" Toby desired.
But Gwen was different. If she still felt that way now that the "forbidden" tag was gone... maybe it was time to stop being a stone wall.