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The first thing Eddie was aware of when he came to was the cold. Raindrops beat down on his face like bullets as he lay on the asphalt. He was soaked to the skin.
The second thing was the pain.
Crushing, twisting pain, emphasized by piercing hot spikes as he tried to move and his muscles spasmed around the break in his arm. He gasped raggedly, struggling to keep from shouting as he craned his neck to see the damage.
He immediately wished he hadn't looked. His arm was limp beside him, bent at an unnatural angle. The jagged white end of his bone protruded from the skin. Dark red blood welled up steadily around it. "Fuck," he said under his breath. "Fuck, shit, fuck..."
He could just make out his bike about thirty feet away, lying on its side on the pavement where it had landed after it had wiped out from under him. The headlight shone dimly through the heavy rain.
"Shit," he groaned, making an attempt to sit up that was suddenly interrupted by a dozen other points of pain on his body lighting up like a switchboard.
Hold still, Venom's voice said in the back of his head. I've got this.
All over Eddie's body, the symbiote welled up like tar. It rushed over his torn and battered skin, weaving, repairing, popping joints back into place. As suddenly as the pain had appeared, it vanished. The tendrils receded, revealing mended flesh that showed no indication that its owner had just tumbled half the length of a football field at fifty miles-per-hour.
There. Better? Venom sounded pleased.
"Yeah. Thanks." Eddie coughed and sat up. His jeans were torn and stained with blood and there was a massive hole in the arm of his sweatshirt where the bone had punched through, but overall he was no worse for the wear. Damn, he was lucky to have Venom. That would have been really ugly otherwise.
He got to his feet and took a few steps toward his bike before the sharp feeling that something wasn't right made him stop short. "Shit," he said quietly, glancing down at his arm. "Oh, shit." He held up his arm with dawning horror and wiggled his fingers experimentally.
What's wrong? It shouldn't hurt anymore.
"What's wrong?" Eddie said, a note of panic rising in his voice. "What's wrong? My hand's on fucking backwards!"
Backwards? No it isn't. There was a defensive note in Venom's voice.
"Yes, it is," Eddie hissed, gesturing with his misshapen arm. "Look at it! Jesus—"
Venom made a sound of exasperation. Alright, alright, fine. You can't expect me to get it right every time. I don't have bones, you know.
"Just fix it, please." Eddie grimaced and did his best not to look at his arm. The sight of it turned his stomach.
If you want me to fix it, we have to re-break it.
"We have to what?" Eddie yelped, grabbing at the affected arm with his left hand protectively. "You're kidding."
No.
Eddie weighed his options for a moment before resigning to the inevitability of what was about to happen. "Fine. Let's get this over with." He sighed in defeat as he sat on the rain-slicked pavement, roughly yanking up his sweatshirt and stuffing some of the material into his mouth. He bit down on it hard, tasting sweat and rainwater and mud. God, he needed to wash it at some point. He closed his eyes and held out his right arm.
Ready? Venom asked, a thick black tentacle snaking its way around Eddie's arm.
"Mmph." Eddie clenched his teeth around the makeshift gag, screwing his eyes up tight.
One, two, three! The tentacle flexed and tightened, and his arm snapped like a twig.
The sound was the worst part. It was loud, a sharp crack like a tree limb shearing off in high wind. Eddie struggled against the urge to vomit.
The pain wasn't much better. Shrill, piercing, insistent, impossible to ignore. It hit him like a freight train as he let out a muffled scream into the wadded fabric of his sweatshirt. He felt the blood drain out of his face as he fought desperately not to pass out.
The coiled tentacles around his arm melted into each other and flattened until they covered it entirely, squeezing his mangled limb as it crunched back into place. The pain slowly faded from the white-hot searing of a poker to a dull red ache. By the time the symbiote receded, revealing joints that were once again in their correct orientation, it was gone entirely.
Eddie spat out his sweatshirt and took several deep, shaking breaths through his nose. He gagged on the damp air, turning to the side and dry-heaving a few times.
Are you okay, Eddie? Venom asked, their tone as close to sheepish as they could probably manage.
"Mhm." Still shaking, Eddie made a fist with his newly-mended right hand. "That sucked."
Sorry. To their credit, Venom did sound truly remorseful. My bad.
Eddie sighed through his teeth. "It's alright, love. Just...Can you be a little more careful next time?"
Copy.
Eddie got unsteadily to his feet, shivering from the cold. He made his way over to his motorcycle and righted it—thankfully, it seemed to be fine, aside from some dings and scratches. His helmet was nowhere to be seen, though. It must have come off at some point during his tumble across the asphalt.
He straddled the bike and glanced down at his shredded and bloodstained hoodie. "You owe me a new sweatshirt," he muttered under his breath as he started the engine.
In all fairness, you were the one who wrecked in the first place.
"Alright, alright. Equal fault, equal blame." Eddie grimaced, doing his best to cram the entire experience into a small box somewhere deep in his mind where he wouldn't have to think about it anymore. "Hey, from now on—you're my helmet."
Can do. Black tendrils welled up and wove together around Eddie's face to protect his skull.
"Thanks, darling." Eddie grinned. Shielded by his symbiote, he revved the engine and rode off into the night.