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There are flowers growing inside Eddie’s lungs.
Venom isn't too alarmed at first. Of the few humans they have inhabited during their time on earth, most exhibited the same phenomenon. Seeing a flower outside of the human body for the first time was the real shock.
They don't ask Eddie about it, because Venom doesn’t ask about things that are probably easily explainable. They are a master of adapting to new environments, even new planets - they needn’t look foolish.
And so Venom looks on as the flowers grow bigger. Bothersome, really.
They wonder how the human body adapts to this, whether the flowers wilt and grow again from time to time. They hadn’t wilted yet. Maybe if they grow a little bigger. Maybe it is a long process. Venom waits.
Anne calls and it might be good news, except it never is. She is engaged to Dan the Doctor and Venom can feel what this does to Eddie. On the way home, he acts impulsive and snarky about it, which Venom lets slide.
(They are sad, too, but mostly because Eddie is sad.
Venom likes Anne. She is smart and capable and sweet. But mostly Venom really likes how, when she is around, Eddie’s body and mind get all warm and nice. Venom wants to have that all the time.)
The flowers grow. They wilt, finally. Eddie comes home from Mrs. Chen's store a few nights later and coughs up a few petals. This is what Venom notices as Eddie sees the petals: his eyes grow a little bigger and his heart rate goes up. Then, he wipes them off the counter with one, big aggressive gesture.
Venom allows themselves. Eddie? Venom asks. What’s wrong?
‘Nothing,’ Eddie says, too fast. Venom knows it is a lie. They stay silent.
Eddie sighs. ‘I mean- ugh.' He takes a breath. 'I’m still in love with Anne.’
Yeah, Venom answers. We knew that.
‘Yeah,’ Eddie says softly, ‘I guess we did.’
Eddie goes quiet again, but Venom is not satisfied. They want to know about the flowers, and for once they care less about seeming dumb and more about their- host. Friend, probably. (It’s a new word. They’re still getting used to it.)
Why are there flowers in your body?
Eddie freezes for just a moment. ‘Well. It’s- uh. Well. It’s a disease.’
A disease? Venom flares up, furious. Eddie has been sick all this time! And Venom didn't know! Venom feels something bubble up that they have learned to label as anger, and they don’t know who to direct it at. Themself, for not noticing their host has been sick, or Eddie, for not telling them? They decide on that last one, although it’s probably a bit unfair. (Venom has found that of all human concepts, fairness and justice are hard ones to get used to.)
Why didn’t you tell me?!
‘Well, I wasn’t- I don’t know! I wasn’t entirely sure!'
Venom manifests his head just to stare Eddie down. 'You weren’t sure you were sick?' they say, unimpressed.
(Venom actually does know that humans have very little knowledge of their bodies - of how the human body in general and the specifics of their own. Still, seeing it in practice never fails to surprise them.)
‘Well, how come you didn’t spot it, hm?’ Eddie says, turning it around on them.
Venom narrows their eyes at Eddie’s response. 'They are flowers,' they say, by which they mean that this is a dumb disease with dumb symptoms that make it entirely non-obvious that there is something wrong and they should not have been expected to notice it - but all of it is an excuse, and deep down Venom knows that. They are able to spot and fix any other human disease. How come this is an exception? They feel something Eddie would probably label as insecurity, and they mask this.
Eddie sighs again and scratches his head, allowing it. ‘Sure. It’s weird.’
'So can I eat the flowers?' Venom asks.
Eddie looks up. ‘Eat them?’
'Yes.' Eddie simply blinks, so they elaborate. 'The flowers make you sick, so I will eat the flowers.'
‘I mean- Huh. Yeah. Yeah, sure, go ahead, buddy.’
And so Venom retreats back into the familiarity and warmth of Eddie’s body and does.
The flowers taste awful. Like the salad Eddie has made them try once, but worse. The only good thing about them is that they grew inside of Eddie, and everything about Eddie is okay. But they’re still the most awful part of Eddie.
Ta-daa, Venom grins from inside when they’re finished. Cured.
And Eddie grins back and a feeling washes over the both of them that is pretty intense but Venom cannot place. (Venom will later realize it was relief. But that is later.)
Eddie is not actually cured, because the flowers grow back. Venom notices the roots start to show again a day or two later and eats the head that pops up out of them as soon as they can. This repeats itself weekly. They don’t tell Eddie, partly to protect their pride. Venom should be able to cure anything yet this disease is too persistent for them. They can only slow it down; remove it temporarily before it inevitably pops up again. Venom feels some sense of shame about this.
And, anyway, Venom doesn’t mind. Eating some disgusting flowers is not that far down the list of things that Venom would do for Eddie.
(Everything is on that list.)
Sometimes the flowers grow faster and more persistently than other times, but it is nothing that Venom can’t help. Sometimes they grow slowly and they’re barely there, barely popping up before Venom rips them apart.
It takes a few more weeks before only the latter ever happens anymore. Eventually, the flowers stop growing entirely. Venom waits for a few more tentative days before their glee gets the best of them.
Eddie, Venom says one night, because Eddie is still awake, looking at the ceiling and frowning. Your flowers have left.
‘They have, hm?’ Eddie asks, his face relaxing a little. ‘I thought so.’ He smiles. ‘Thanks, buddy. You cured me, I guess.’
Although Venom does not understand this - they didn’t do anything to cure Eddie; they just kept eating the flowers - they allow themselves to feel the pride that bubbles up. Of course they won't question it. Eddie is cured. That’s all there is to it. All that matters.
Venom starts a new habit of using Eddie’s phone or laptop for their own entertainment when Eddie is asleep approximately one week later. They find out that they like games after playing one for nine hours straight. (Apparently, they boosted Eddie up to a level he himself cannot handle at all, which the man said was ‘incredibly frustrating,’ but Venom gets him multiple levels up again the next night.) They like movies, sometimes. Mostly they like Google. Exploring the earth and looking up all the topics they refrain from asking Eddie about.
Naturally, it only takes a few nights before Venom realizes they can finally google the flower thing. Only then do they truly understand.
So you are no longer in love with Anne, Venom says the next morning.
‘Good morning,’ Eddie groans, which Venom has found is Eddie's way of saying, ‘wait until I’ve had my coffee.’ Venom does. They are very patient. (Also, Eddie takes coffee with lots of chocolate syrup for Venom. He always cringes at the first sip, but then he gets used to it.)
So, about Anne, Venom says while Eddie takes his last sip.
Venom feels Eddie suppressing another groan. 'What about it?'
Well. You are no longer in love with her, correct?
Eddie shrugs as he pours himself another coffee, without the chocolate this time. ‘No. That’s right, I mean. I’m happy for her, y’know? And Dan, I guess.’ (Venom has actually started to really like Dan. They do not tell Eddie.)
And if you were still in love with her, we would get sick, Venom says, satisfied that all the information checks out. Humans are weird, and their dumb ‘love’ is, too. But they don’t have it anymore, so that’s good. They don’t want it.
Eddie, however, chokes a little on his coffee. ‘I- Hm. Where’d you get that from, buddy?’
Venom manifests their head again, sensing that the conversation is gonna take a little longer than anticipated. Before they get to speak, however, Eddie says, ‘Ohhh. Oh. You’ve been googling, hm?’
'Yes.'
‘Hanahaki disease?’ Eddie asks.
'Yes. It is very disturbing. But we are not in love with anyone anymore. So it is okay.'
‘Well. It’s not- it’s not that when you are in love, you die. It only happens with unrequited love. Romantic or otherwise,’ Eddie explains.
Venom doesn’t get anything about this human concept called love - about all the different versions of it, about how it’s supposed to feel. But it is not important. They focus on the term that Eddie said is significant to the disease: unrequited. Not returned. Can love be returned?
'Unrequited?'
‘When you love someone who doesn't love you back.’
'Then you get sick,' Venom checks.
‘Yeah. When people do love you back, the flowers stay away.’
Again, humans are weird. Venom keeps quiet about it. Instead, they say, 'So do you love people?' (Using ‘you’ is something Venom does not do very often, but they don’t understand love, and they won’t claim it. Some things are for Eddie alone.)
‘Yeah,’ Eddie says.
'And that means that everybody you love loves you back.'
Eddie looks up and smiles slightly at Venom’s big, floating, permanently grinning head.
'Yeah,' he says. 'Pretty sure they love me back.’