I Woke Up in the Marvel Universe, But All the Heroes Are Women?-Chapter 37: Staying On Task

[Brock’s POV]
My shoes click against the linoleum floor of Gold's Diner with murderous rhythm. The bell above the door jingles cheerfully, completely at odds with the rage boiling through my veins. I scan the restaurant, nostrils flaring, searching for whoever had the audacity to send that text.
‘We should remain calm,’ my other half whispers through our shared consciousness. ‘Shane would not approve of bloodshed in public.’
"Shut up," I mutter under my breath. "If Parker's here, all bets are off."
The morning had been perfect. Shane's body curled against mine, his scent filling my lungs, my arms protectively wrapped around what's rightfully mine. Then that text message shattered everything.
‘I know you're Venom. Meet me at Gold's Diner, 1 o'clock. This isn't blackmail. I just want to talk.’
The symbiote ripples beneath my skin, eager to tear apart whoever threatens our secret. Only my iron will keeps it contained—that, and the promise I made to Shane about "appropriate public behavior."
A waitress approaches with a plastic smile. "Table for one, ma'am?"
I tower over her, my 6'5" frame casting a shadow across her face. "I'm meeting someone."
"Booth in the back," she says, nervously pointing. "Lady said she's expecting you."
My fists clench so hard my knuckles crack. The symbiote surges through my veins, hungry for violence.
‘We promised Shane,' my other reminds me. 'We promised to be better.’
"Fine," I growl. "But if it's Parker, I can't guarantee anything."
I stalk toward the booth, each step measured and predatory. The cheap fluorescent lights buzz overhead, the smell of grease and coffee filling my nostrils. I spot her.
Professor Masters.
My blood runs cold, then hot, then boiling. She sits there calmly in a pressed blazer, sipping coffee like she's not the woman who's been circling what belongs to me.
I slide into the booth, leather squeaking beneath me as I tower over the table. One deep breath confirms it, that unmistakable scent I caught at Fisk Tower. My other goes absolutely feral.
‘THAT'S HER! THE WOMAN WITH THE SKULL MASK! THE ONE WHO STOLE SHANE FROM US!' it shrieks inside my skull, tendrils writhing beneath my skin. 'KILL HER! KILL HER NOW ELLIE! SHE CANNOT LIVE!'
I nearly snort at the symbiote's complete 180, from cautioning restraint to demanding murder in the span of seconds. Typical.
"I knew I recognized your scent in Fisk's tower," I say, voice dangerously low. "Taskmistress."
Masters sighs, setting down her coffee cup with practiced precision. "I was hoping you wouldn't figure it out quite so quickly."
"So what's stopping me from killing you right now?" I ask, keeping my voice conversational while a tendril forms beneath the table, curling into a lethal spike aimed at her abdomen. One thought from me and it would pierce her heart.
"Well," she says, completely oblivious to the death literally inches away, "that's why I wanted to meet with you."
The tendril pulses, eager. I could end her in a heartbeat.
"Look, you need me," Masters says, leaning forward.
A laugh escapes me, harsh and bitter. "And why's that?"
She doesn't flinch. Those calculating brown eyes stay fixed on mine. "Shane needs to be trained properly. In class, How I’ve been teaching him, it’s not going to work as is. I didn't know he had an ability."
The spike under the table wavers. My other hisses in confusion.
"Shane doesn't have any powers," I snap, the lie sliding easily off my tongue.
Masters raises an eyebrow, her expression unchanged. "Really? So Skip Step isn't your boyfriend?"
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. The tendril beneath the table shoots forward, aiming straight for her heart, but somehow she's not there anymore. She's shifted to the side with inhuman reflexes, my deadly weapon stabbing only empty air.
"You weren't really hiding your little knife thing well, you know," she says calmly, glancing under the table.
Rage floods my system, the symbiote roaring for blood. My vision blurs with murderous fury, black tendrils rippling visibly across my skin. The other diners haven't noticed yet, but they will soon if I don't get this under control.
"Listen," Masters continues, unperturbed by my obvious transformation, "don't you want him to learn how to defend himself properly?"
I stare at her, breathing hard through my nose. My first instinct is to scream ‘fuck no’ in her face. Shane doesn't need to defend himself. That's what I'm for. That's what we're for. My other and I will tear apart anything that threatens him. He's ours to protect.
But then I remember how annoyingly driven Shane is. How he literally tried to kill himself just to get me to stop fighting with Spider-Woman. My tiny, precious boyfriend wants so badly to be a hero. And I've already failed to protect him once.
"I..." The symbiote hisses in protest as I retract the tendril. "I guess," I finally manage through gritted teeth, each word feeling like swallowing glass.
Masters' lips curl into the slightest of smiles. "Well, I'm the best trainer he'll ever meet."
"Well, you're already giving him lessons," I say, barely keeping the venom from my voice. "What exactly do you want to change?"
Masters takes another sip of her coffee, those calculating eyes never leaving mine. "I want to include his teleporting abilities in our training sessions."
I feel my face contort with rage.
"But," she continues smoothly, "I wasn't going to proceed without checking with his... monster girlfriend first."
"Fuck no," I snap, leaning forward. "Do you even understand how his powers work?”
Masters holds up one perfectly manicured hand. "I didn't finish. I want you in the class with him."
That throws me. "Why?"
"So when he gets too... lustful," she says with clinical precision, "you can take him away. That way you'll know everything I'm doing is above board. No secrets."
I narrow my eyes, studying her face for any sign of deception. My other is equally suspicious, tendrils coiling anxiously beneath my skin.
"Aren't you a gun for hire?" I ask. "Why would you even want to help Shane?"
For the first time, Masters' expression softens slightly. "He gives off big stupid little brother energy."
I can't deny this. It's painfully accurate. It’s how he wore me down so easily.
"Fine," I finally say. "But I'm there for every session. And if you push him too hard…"
"You'll eat my spleen, tear out my spine, drink my blood, et cetera," Masters finishes with a dismissive wave. "I got it."
My other purrs with dark satisfaction. 'She understands the consequences. Good.'
"So we have a deal?" Masters extends her hand across the table.
I stare at her outstretched hand, considering all the ways I could destroy it, snap each finger, crush every bone, tear the flesh from her arm. The symbiote shivers in anticipation, but I force myself to focus. This is about Shane. Everything is about Shane.
"Deal," I say finally, gripping her hand with just enough pressure to make her wince slightly. "But the moment I sense anything off, I'm ending you."
Masters withdraws her hand, flexing her fingers casually as if testing for damage. "Excellent. And one more thing, I want both of you in my class next semester too."
I roll my eyes, already exhausted by this conversation. "Fine. Whatever. I don't care."
My other snarls in disagreement. We very much care.