“We should go somewhere safe, Eddie. We can only make the effect of the toxin less, we can’t protect you completely.” The symbiote won’t stop arguing with him about his continued presence on the streets--particularly after a nasty episode starring what he was certain was really his father. New York City goes to hell on a regular basis, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen it this bad, where people were literally so far gone that they were ready to tear each other apart--people who don’t deserve it are going to get hurt if he doesn’t do something, and that’s always been where the line existed for him. He doesn't care if drug dealers and bigots tear each other limb from limb in some kind of terrified hallucinatory state--he’s firm on that. “Just give me whatever you’ve got my darling, and I promise you we’ll make it out of this. I may even let you feast before the night is out.”
He struggles with a man who thinks he’s drowning, webs a woman to a wall when she sees the symbiote’s teeth and thinks he’s a dog that going to attack her, but he’s not fast enough to stop a small mob from forming in the middle of the street. He ducks into an alley and lets the symbiote rescind, baring his face for the moment. It’s dangerous, and he can already feel a modicum of panic welling up inside of him, but he needs a second to breathe. “Do you think our venom could counteract whatever is in the air?” He asks, but the symbiote’s answer is drowned out by the sudden appearance of another person.
“Let me guess,” He drawls as the symbiote covers him again, bares its teeth. “You're afraid of spiders.”
