Chapter Text
"What were we singing last night? Oh, we remember now."
Venom asks themselves as they swing through the wreckage of the San Francisco street. The emergency response vehicles come to replace them blare a few blocks away. They're far away enough that the noise won't bother them.
"Strangers in the night~ Exchanging glances, wandering in the night~" Venom wants nothing more than to belt out those sweet Frank Sinatra lyrics, but they can't. They'll be spotted, and then everyone will know that an alien walks among them.
"What were the chances we'd be sharing love before the night was through~? Oh! Look! Is where we first met, Eddie!"
They point to the wide building resting on the hip of the cliffs. "Not exactly a romantic first meeting," Eddie quips from inside of them. In fact, they didn't get the chance to have a proper conversation until much later. The beginnings of their relationship were car crashes, briney water, and alarms. Lots of alarms. Sometimes, Venom still hears them in their nightmares.
Like the one coming from below. Venom's head cocks to the side, confused for a moment. It's a horrid, shrill sound, and it takes a moment for them to realize that it's not someone's security system gone off. It's a scream.
Venom backflips off the roof and slides down the wall. At the bottom is a dirty alley. Dumpsters and heaps of reeking garbage bags line the walls. A depression in the concrete houses a puddle of stagnant rainwater.
The scream is almost loud enough to hurt, but there's no one in sight. Venom dares to venture further in, and that is when they see it.
Behind the dumpster is a toddler.
It is strapped into a stroller that has fallen on its side, presumably from struggling. One of its half pigtails has come undone, and there's a smudge of dirt on its ruddy cheek. Venom is at its side in a heartbeat, cutting the straps and lifting it into their arms. The only thing it has to protect it--she, Eddie interjects-- from the elements is a long-sleeved nightie that needs washed.
There's a lot to unpack here. Venom tucks her into the crook of their arm and looks around. No one else in sight. Just the three of them. Upon closer inspection, they find a small jacket beneath the stroller. Must be hers. Venom drapes it over their arm and shushes the poor little thing.
This kind of treatment is more in line with how symbiotes deal with their offspring: dump them somewhere, and go on with your life. Venom wouldn't normally care, but this is a squishy, helpless human who hasn't done anything wrong.
"There there, you are safe. We've got you." Venom bounces the child in their arms and desires to know who did this. Not so they can return her, but because they're suddenly feeling peckish again. Eddie, ever the worrywart, reminds them not to eat the child.
"Of course we will not hurt you. Will take care of you." Venom rubs their knuckle against the dirt on her cheek, and is perplexed when it doesn't come off. Eddie--he's a loser, but knows more about humans than they do--informs them that the 'dirt' is a birthmark.
Venom rises to their full height. Eddie half-heartedly goes, "Let's take her to the police before we stop home, Ve," and gets ignored. They instead take the route to their apartment, having made up their mind.