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It takes the run from St. Estes to their apartment for the adrenaline to completely dry out.
With venom pooling around his legs and wound between his ribs, Eddie tore through the brightly-lit city, still shaken after the tumble with Carnage. Broken-boned and bleary-eyed, he stumbled through the crowds, down the streets. Though he was too exhausted to have any direction of home, Venom guided him in sending nudges to his brain. Intuitively, he knew when to snake around the street corners, when to turn and dash through the empty alleyways, sidestepping the leftover muck. When the police sirens rang near, he knew when to pull themselves upon the closest rooftop to wait it out, heart pounding, breathing hard.
Juxtaposed with St. Estes, which had been a quiet cathedral, ancient and dull, the sudden outburst of sounds and sights and smells when they had arrived back in the city was almost enough to overwhelm their shared senses. Venom had pulled away, a snarling in his chest, but after briefly ducking into a back alley, Eddie managed to calm them both, and they pushed on.
It was cold out, and the speed at which they sprinted through the district froze the wind into tiny icy tendrils that clawed on his exposed skin. Black ooze rose from beneath those cuts to mend them when they formed. Not that he noticed.
Since he was not fully in control, Eddie could not tell for how long they ran. He remembered hearing Anne’s words race through the clutter in his brain, they will be looking for you too , and that had been enough to keep him going.
And suddenly things were very still. They were not running anymore.
Eddie reined himself back into consciousness and looked up. They had arrived at the quiet alley behind his house. His apartment window was left slightly open, a slit of darkness peeking through. Before he could fully process what was happening, Venom leaped them from the streets. They grasped tight onto the windowpane and lifted it up, shifting their weight so that they were back in the apartment again. The same way they had done every time. It felt too painfully routine.
“Look, buddy,” Eddie began, swallowing the lump in his throat. “We can’t stay here. They’ll be looking for us.”
Apartment is home. Safe. A beat. The next observation came with a sneer. Clean.
“Okay, before you freak out, it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
The hurt in Venom’s voice was apparent to both of them. Then correct us.
“I decided to clear up some of the mess after you left. And no, I didn’t get rid of the chickens. I just left them near some statue in some park, pecking on grass,” Eddie said. “I know this is old wounds and all, but we don’t have time for this. We have to go.”
Other than a dreadful sinking feeling in his stomach, he received no other reply.
Ignoring the painful sensation, Eddie lumbered through the apartment, gathering his belongings. He palmed his wallet, some new clothes, and fake ID, making sure to leave his phone and other traceable devices behind. He could always get new ones.
After rummaging through his items once more, making sure all they needed were in place, Eddie took one last look at the small rooms he used to call home, locked the door, and jumped out of the window and into the alley below.
It was nearly sunrise. The morning light provided a dim illumination as they fell, and they could see the endless stretch of buildings in the distance, the slowly awaking city.
A small glimmer of curiosity poked him in the stomach. A question.
“We’re getting out of here, but before that, we have a stop to make.”
They found Sonny and Cher right where Eddie had left them, clucking and pecking idly on the small round patch of pavement grass.
The sun had risen by the time they got there. The park was nearly empty, save for a couple of early morning joggers. Eddie sank onto a bench, hands in his pockets, soaking in the fresh air, while Venom lounged beneath his skin, a ball of warmth in his stomach. There was a certain peace at the park, feeling the hot sunlight filter through the trees, watching Sonny and Cher fight over the same blade of grass, that Eddie felt content enough to brave the dangerous waters of a conversation.
“Hey, V, can we talk about something?”
No response.
His stomach gave a nervous flutter that rose and threatened to lodge itself into his throat. He resisted the urge to push it back down, and moments later, the beginnings of Venom’s snake-like head pushed out, a black tendril wrapping itself around his neck, akin to a scarf. Subtle. Venom’s face drifted close to his. Their white slits of eyes watched Eddie carefully, expectantly.
He took a deep breath, twisted his hands. His lips were dry. “Uh, I wanted to apologize for the whole apartment thing, and for getting mad at you, and just, everything in general.”
And for being a dick?
He gave a pained laugh. “Yeah, and for that, especially.”
It’s alright, Eddie. You already apologized. We understand.
“No, no, back there with Anne and Dan, I didn’t—it wasn’t sincere enough. And I know I just got you back and I, uh, I don’t want to mess it up so now that it’s just the two of us I thought, you know, I could do it right this time and—”
Eddie, Venom tilted their serpentine head, studying him. You didn’t do it wrong.
His heart wretched. “Oh.”
We have things to apologise for too. A slight pink gathered at the base of the white slit eyes, suddenly interested in the ground. We are sorry we left.
Oh.
Oh .
Though it takes a few moments to register, the words hit him like a truck. Eddie only nodded his head numbly, tears gathering in his eyes. How ironic it was that the first person who ever apologised to him for leaving was a parasite, part of him thought sarcastically. He wrung his hands even more, heart pounding, mind blank for any morsel of a reply.
We learnt one thing when we left, do you know what it is?
He shook his head. His hands were shaking, god, his hands were shaking.
That we should not have. We could not find anyone else like you, Eddie.
It was their confession, an apology. Forgiveness. Venom curled up around his neck, resting their head on his chest, and was still.
Eddie took the next few moments desperately trying not to cry. A rush of emotions ran through him. Sadness. Fear. Happiness. Fear. Fear. Fear. He wasn’t sure if they belonged to Venom or to him, probably to both. He put his hands to his mouth and scrubbed his face, elbows pressed on his knees. He tried to focus on his senses. The ache in his throat was dulling. The park was quiet and the sun was rising and Sonny and Cher had moved on to squabble over another blade of grass. They would get out of here. Things were okay. Things would be okay.
When his breathing steadied and his hands did not shake, gently, he raised a finger to stroke the inky blob on the forehead. Venom gave a little low purr and a feeling of contentment ran through them both. “How are you feeling, little guy?”
We are not little.
That elicited a chuckle. “Sure, you aren’t.”
There was a silence as Venom tried to decide if the reply was in earnest or said to appease them. Their eyes narrowed.
Eddie sighed, shifting to lean back on the bench. Venom had shared that vulnerable piece of him, and it was his turn to return the favour and do the same. He supposed he could always flee from the truth, but some part of him didn’t want to, was worn out from running. They were trying to make this work, weren’t they?
“I only cleaned up the place when you left because it made me feel like I was doing something, fixing something. I didn’t want to think about how I was alone and helpless, again. I righted the shelf, cleaned up breakfast. So I wouldn’t think about how you might not, uh, come back.”
Eddie let out a breath. His eyes were surprisingly dry. He supposed opening up to Venom wasn’t that hard after all.
If symbiotes had facial expressions of shock, then Venom would definitely have been wearing one on their blob of a face. You missed us?
Eddie paused mid-stroke. The weight of Venom’s guilt was heavy on his chest, his own disbelief at the question ringing in his head. A million responses crushed his tongue, but he only nodded.
We are sorry for hurting you, Eddie. We hurt together. Then, Venom bumped their head into the side of Eddie’s face, as if it would make it better. It did make it better.
“Yeah,” it was a weak chuckle, but at least it was one. “We hurt together, V.”
And then Venom was gone, melding back into the film of his tissues in his body as a jogger went by. They watched him run past, felt the warm sunlight on skin, listened to Sonny and Cher as they tried to outdo each other in a strange dance (or at least, a dance was what it looked like).
Eddie broke the silence first. “I guess this makes us fr—?”
Fugitives, Venom agreed.
Eddie barely restrained the smile on his lips. “What would you say to a vacation?”