[Narrative] Who: Gwen What: Verifying that Carnage isn't where he's supposed to be Where: Stark Tower When: Recentish Warnings/Rating: None
She kind of knew, even without verification. It was too quiet when she went to Stark Tower, and nothing hissed insidiously in her mind, and she knew. But she wanted to see it with her own eyes; she needed to see it with her own eyes. Because Carnage was her responsibility. It shouldn't be, maybe, and there wasn't logic behind that particular feeling of claim, but there wasn't any changing it, either.
From the moment that the last Peter trusted her to take the symbiote from Otto, it had been her problem. She'd managed it without any negative effects until the door zapped her back home, and every bit of wreckage in that symbiote's wake from that point forward was on her. Sure, she couldn't control the hotel, and she had no way to prevent the trip home that ultimately resulted in her death. But Harry said it best, when he said she should've worked in contingencies. She knew the hotel's history with removing people and sending them to other places; they'd been through four Peter's by then, and she knew going home was a possibility. And while she'd worked failsafes into the containment unit at Oscorp, they hadn't been strong enough, and that was on her.
The subsequent catastrophe in Gotham, it would be easy to blame that on everyone in Marvel who hadn't helped her find a permanent home for the symbiote, but what good would that do? She'd asked, and she'd asked. She'd told everyone where the symbiote was, and they'd all told her to keep it there. She'd done the only thing she could do, which was to build a better containment unit. And the unit worked; it held.
She just hadn't taken into consideration that the boy watching over the safe would let the symbiote out.
So, ultimately, that was her fault too. She knew that, and when the time came, she let the adults handle the safe placement of the symbiote. When they told her she couldn't see it to verify integrity or containment conditions of a unit she'd never seen functional, she didn't fight it. They understood the dangers, and they would ensure Carnage was kept safely. They would do a better job than she had.
Or that was what she'd told herself for months, and it was what she continued to tell herself when Carnage no longer whispered in her mind when she came too close. Maybe he'd died, she reasoned; things died. Why wouldn't alien symbiotes die?
But still, she needed to know for certain.
She still had the card that Mr. Stark had given her for the building, and she swiped her way in early. Finding the storage area where Mr. Stark kept unused technology wasn't challenging; she'd been in the room during the alien invasion. She was pretty sure her card wouldn't get her inside, but she could look into the room with reinforced glass walls, and that was precisely what she did.
There, on the top shelf, was Carnage's containment unit.
One side of the containment unit was shattered, and the suit was trailing from the breach like a child's forgotten ribbon.
Her cellphone vibrated, and it was her mom reminding her that she'd promised to watch Emily for the morning. Gwen gave the room (and the useless containment unit) one last glance, and then she walked away.