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Separation is always a mind fuck – literally. Oxytocin buzzes through their veins, spreading warmth and lassitude with a flood of phenethylamine. They float on the endorphin rush, their emotions raw and open until a sense of identity, of individuality, creeps up on them. It’s a cold thing, that sense of self, where they are split apart and weakened because of stupid humanity being too much of a backwards species to completely become one with a Klyntar.
“My love.”
He isn’t sure which of them expressed it, more of an intense feeling of love and devotion and a sense of belonging than actual words. The realization that they’re two rather than one is jarring, and he makes a strangled noise of panic before his mind catches up fully.
“Eddie,” his Other’s voice purrs around his brain, its presence blanketing itself through every nook and cranny of his body. It’s still broadcasting its feelings and Eddie groans under the intensity, his overstimulated body shuddering and his hands clenching in the rumpled bedsheets.
“Again?” It knows Eddie can’t, not physically, anyway, but they both need some kind of intimacy. The loss of their child has left a gaping void that neither of them quite know how to fill except with each other.
Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat and pants against the worn pillow, shoving down the grief before it can ruin the moment. He shivers slightly as the cool summer breeze drifts over his sweat-soaked body from the still-broken window. God, he wants to go another round, to completely lose himself in his Other and forget anything else exists, but he’s pushing forty and he’s already had to have alien assistance for rounds three and four.
Thankfully, Klyntar are experts in intimacy that isn’t sexual and the symbiote pushes more of itself through Eddie’s skin, spreading itself over him like a living blanket. It manifests a snakelike head with a purr that reverberates through Eddie’s nerves and nuzzles his neck soothingly, keeping up the rumbling rhythm. Eddie can feel every point of contact between them, a weird sensation like a mix of a human lover and their Venom suit, alien and yet wonderfully familiar.
He shifts with a grunt, eyes drooping shut with the serotonin coursing through his veins. The symbiote’s skin is soft under his fingertips as he strokes its body mass and up to its head. His lips find the corner of one slitted eye and he murmurs nonsensical things against the warm flesh.
“Not gonna leave, Eddie. Never leave you,” his Other’s voice whispers through his mind, its determination a yellow glow behind his eyes. “Just got us back. Just got healthy. Love you, Eddie.”
Eddie’s voice catches in his throat. He can feel his Other’s bravado wavering, the events of the past year flickering through their memories like a movie trailer from hell. Neither of them are capable of fucking their way past their problems anymore, apparently. Isn’t that supposed to a sign of maturity? Eddie isn’t sure; hell, he isn’t sure of much of anything these days, aside from his own feelings for his partner and his devotion to his family.
Family. Something Eddie’s always craved in his life. He’d had it twice now: the first time with Annie and the thought of being a good husband and successful man, the second with his Other and their child, of being a father – a good one, unlike dear old Carl Brock. Both times he let it slip through his fingers, had fucked up badly enough that both Annie and little Sleeper had chosen to leave him.
“Not your fault, Eddie. Not our fault.”
“Annie was my fault,” Eddie rasps, his voice like sandpaper over granite. That one he won’t budge on, at least. His Other may have a blind spot when it comes to Eddie, but he’s grown enough to see how wrong he’d been, how far his head had been up his own ass.
The symbiote huffs against his neck, pushing the air out through its fangs with a soft growl. It has dozens of these little gestures it’s picked up from Eddie, mimicking the human behaviours automatically now after so many years. “Learned from your mistakes. Learned from mine. Nothing in this universe is perfect, my Eddie.”
Eddie says nothing, hands moving on autopilot up and down the ever-shifting black mass. Not too long ago he’d have hidden behind the rudimentary mental barriers he’d learned to construct; not tonight. Words are usually his strength, but they escape him now, everything seeming paltry and inadequate in comparison to the magnitude of emotions roiling within.
“Did our best, Eddie. Raised it with family. Our child will be strong.” His Other sends its feelings forward through their open link, letting Eddie experience the initial apprehension it had about raising an offspring in the human fashion rather than just letting the newborn fend for itself upon its birth. A strange concept for a Klyntar: a family unit. Its thoughts on Sleeper’s departure into the world are coloured by its confidence in its offspring and its abilities. Klyntar are designed to adapt and survive and their child will be no different.
The mourning is a new feeling for both of them. When Eddie pictured himself as a family man, as a great husband and father, he never quite imagined he’d be married to an alien and parenting a small blob, but now that he’s had a taste of it, he wants nothing else. The loss of his child is a palpable thing in their mental bond, equally human and Klyntar.
Eddie shifts, rapidly blinking back tears. His fingers tighten on the symbiote’s body as it solidifies more under his touch, sensing his need for a physical form to hold close.
“Sleeper has what no other Klyntar has ever had, my love,” his Other’s voice says, low and soothing. It pulses around Eddie’s heart and flickers through his mind, its presence like a candle’s flame in the dark.
“Yeah?” Eddie manages to find his voice again, his throat tight with carefully restrained sorrow. “Wha’ssat?”
The symbiote nuzzles its snout against Eddie’s neck once more, the brief flash of tongue and teeth against skin as it speaks keeping Eddie grounded in reality. “A name,” it rumbles, drawing out the word in almost reverence. “One of its own. None but our God have their own names, my Eddie. Together with our hosts we may have them, but only in instances of complete symbiosis. We may be Venom, but I am merely part of a whole.”
Eddie frowns and opens his mouth to protest, but the symbiote buzzes its version of laughter with a burst of affection.
“Thinking in human terms again. They are too simple, too self-centered,” the symbiote explains, reverting to mental speech. It’s easiest that way, with misunderstandings nearly impossible with the constant flow of emotions and images through their link. “You still think of being part of a whole as being less, but it is an honour, a role of the highest regard. What greater honour would I have than to be with you, to make you stronger? We are so much more than Klyntar and human and our offspring reflects that. The strength of my people with the self-sufficiency of yours… A name of its own announces that to the galaxy.”
Smiling softly against the inky flesh, Eddie allows the encroaching tear to fall. “Nothin’s ever small scale, huh? Always gotta go big or go home.” The idea is… powerful, to be sure. It’s everything Eddie’s ever wanted for his kid long term, but it’s the short term that’s weighing on his mind. “But, like, what about takin’ the kid to baseball games, y’know? Seein’ the Yankees roast the Sox? Getting that ballpark frank?”
The symbiote is silent for a long moment as it digests this, sifting gently through Eddie’s childhood memories and the wishes he’s had for a long time of what he didn’t get to experience. Eddie lays his mind open, hoping his Other can see why the small things are so important. A semi-normal life for a definitely not normal kid is the best Eddie can offer – or rather could have offered, if Sleeper had decided to stay.
Maybe Eddie’s influence wasn’t strong enough to override that Klyntar wanderlust. Maybe Sleeper has less of Eddie’s genetics in general, despite his Other’s insisting that Sleeper was different, that Sleeper had humanity.
“Child can return, Eddie,” the symbiote says finally. “We will welcome it with love, listen to its stories and adventures. Young Klyntar are not as helpless as humans; despite its age, Sleeper is powerful, made more so by its name and by us and Fat Doctor and family. Can do baseball when it returns. There is no time limit to small things, my love. We will do all these things and more.”
“Just wish it hadn’t left in the first place,” Eddie mumbles, stretching his legs out with a groan as his lower back pops. “I ain’t gettin’ any younger over here.”
The symbiote makes a rude noise in his mind and Eddie has to stifle a smile. It pushes a tendril through sweat-stiff blond hair and tugs gently, pulling Eddie’s head back to expose his throat more. “Plenty young. Can remind you in many ways how I can slow your human aging,” it purrs against Eddie’s pulse point, tongue flicking hotly against his skin.
It’s tempting, it really is. Their communication has been better lately, despite it not being a natural thing for the symbiote and Eddie’s decades of perfecting emotional suppression. But after the kid… something in Eddie’s changed. Fucking his way out of a conversation he doesn’t know how to deal with or even how to verbalize isn’t as appealing anymore. He knows his Other’s giving him an out and he sends his gratitude through their link, but he doesn’t need that out this time.
He rolls over onto his back, wrapping his arms around the symbiote’s main body mass. Smiling gently, he moves one hand to guide his Other’s head up and press light kisses along its wide jawline.
It purrs and buzzes in contentment, the sound reverberating against Eddie’s chest. The symbiote starts to merge back into Eddie’s body, heating their skin where they’re joined and projecting images and the feeling of their previous activities through their bond.
Eddie returns the gesture, keeping their mental link wide open and sharing the love he felt not only for his Other, but his pride at being a father at long last. There’s sorrow there still, there’s always going to be a hole in his heart where Sleeper left, but there’s hope now too. Hope that their child will return one day; hope that it will become everything Venom could never be.
Hope that maybe they’ll see that Yankees game some day.
Eddie gasps as the symbiote pulses along his nervous system, his Other wordlessly singing a symphony of optimism and love into his mind. This isn’t born out of desperation or grief or the need to drown everything else out but each other. This is born out of a love of family and hope for the future.
For something better.