"Me and MJ are fine now, not that it's any of your business," Parker said.
Brock was sorely tempted to correct Parker: anything that had to do with their Spider was automatically their business, whether they were wanted or not.
And since when did it matter what the Spider thought of them?
Shame that Parker and Mary Jane were apparently still together though: either MJ was incredibly patient or just that ridiculously naive to believe that Parker could ever put her above the needs of the helpless, pathetic masses of this backwater mudhole of a planet. Brock listened to Parker's version of what really happened with a growing sense of indignation. Like he'd ever partner up with that Sandman joker! Christ, Brock might've been at the end of his rope back then, but if he'd wanted to kill the Spider for good, he would've done it himself and not gotten his hands dirty asking someone else to join him. Like he doubted he could handle Parker alone! What was the fun in that?
He'd at least like to think that killing Peter Parker would've been something special. It was like marriage: if you had any balls at all, you didn't need to be babied down the aisle. Brock was of the same mind toward his killing. He would've wanted to savor his revenge and not pussy out, running for help. He felt offended just thinking about it.
Brock had a feeling Parker wouldn't appreciate the finer points of what made revenge so delicious, seeing as he would've been the victim, but really, he had to to least defend himself before Parker turned him into an even bigger wuss.
"Well, I'm glad that's not what we remember," Brock sniffed. "'Cause I hate to think I'd couldn't kick your ass without calling in backup. Sandman?"
He snorted. The last thing he really remembered from that time was waking up on the church floor, ass naked, and hearing voices in his head that were in fact very real. Then there was a period of adjusting. Getting used to the new roommate in his body, as it were, who came with not only Peter Parker's abilities, but also with all his memories. While he would've probably loved to kill Peter Parker at that point, he only remembered wandering out of the church and in no condition to go Spider-hunting.
"I think I like my memories of what happened a lot better," Brock said, and left it at that. Let Parker stew on which version was right. He always did agonize over right and wrong, and waste a whole lot of time moralizing. It was one of those pesky traits that Brock and the symbiote found both extremely irritating and yet strangely endearing.
"I figured you were the one who sent me into this mutant prison, but I'm guessing I was wrong. I'd kill for a Daily Bugle edition right now: I'd love to see what the Boss has to say about our favorite wall-crawler, locked up in a psycho ward with the rest of us weirdos."
no subject
"Me and MJ are fine now, not that it's any of your business," Parker said.
Brock was sorely tempted to correct Parker: anything that had to do with their Spider was automatically their business, whether they were wanted or not.
And since when did it matter what the Spider thought of them?
Shame that Parker and Mary Jane were apparently still together though: either MJ was incredibly patient or just that ridiculously naive to believe that Parker could ever put her above the needs of the helpless, pathetic masses of this backwater mudhole of a planet. Brock listened to Parker's version of what really happened with a growing sense of indignation. Like he'd ever partner up with that Sandman joker! Christ, Brock might've been at the end of his rope back then, but if he'd wanted to kill the Spider for good, he would've done it himself and not gotten his hands dirty asking someone else to join him. Like he doubted he could handle Parker alone! What was the fun in that?
He'd at least like to think that killing Peter Parker would've been something special. It was like marriage: if you had any balls at all, you didn't need to be babied down the aisle. Brock was of the same mind toward his killing. He would've wanted to savor his revenge and not pussy out, running for help. He felt offended just thinking about it.
Brock had a feeling Parker wouldn't appreciate the finer points of what made revenge so delicious, seeing as he would've been the victim, but really, he had to to least defend himself before Parker turned him into an even bigger wuss.
"Well, I'm glad that's not what we remember," Brock sniffed. "'Cause I hate to think I'd couldn't kick your ass without calling in backup. Sandman?"
He snorted. The last thing he really remembered from that time was waking up on the church floor, ass naked, and hearing voices in his head that were in fact very real. Then there was a period of adjusting. Getting used to the new roommate in his body, as it were, who came with not only Peter Parker's abilities, but also with all his memories. While he would've probably loved to kill Peter Parker at that point, he only remembered wandering out of the church and in no condition to go Spider-hunting.
"I think I like my memories of what happened a lot better," Brock said, and left it at that. Let Parker stew on which version was right. He always did agonize over right and wrong, and waste a whole lot of time moralizing. It was one of those pesky traits that Brock and the symbiote found both extremely irritating and yet strangely endearing.
"I figured you were the one who sent me into this mutant prison, but I'm guessing I was wrong. I'd kill for a Daily Bugle edition right now: I'd love to see what the Boss has to say about our favorite wall-crawler, locked up in a psycho ward with the rest of us weirdos."