He thinks about that moment a lot.
consumption rage YOU DARE BETRAY ME
He isn't really sure if it's him or the symbiote. There are some thoughts that are distinctly his (no, no, no, too high, too high, stop it, we can do this on the ground) and some that are distinctly its (you are still such a pussy). Both occupy conscious space in his head, like talking but inside (well - mostly).
But there are thoughts that get jumbled too: there are memories that he knows are his only because he knows they are his, or so foreign that he suddenly, almost painfully remembers (and it's funny, how often he forgets, how natural this all seems) that he shares his body with something that isn't even from earth. But who called them up? Did Venom look into his thoughts like with Annie? Or did he, with a stray thought, trigger a gasp of alien nostalgia?
On the landing platform at Life, they were both consumed for a second, a breath (a lifetime) by Riot and Drake; and sometimes the memory catches him, stops him dead, clawing its way up his flesh.
the others went faithfully to their deaths
He sees them, the dead, twin huddled masses, like exposed nerve endings bunched on the floor -
they are martyrs - heroes - you - a traitor
when I tell them -
He thinks it must be Venom's memories, because Venom knows things in an instant, absorbing, sifting like wheat. It does not take only what is offered; maybe, in moments like that, it is that it cannot help it, overpowered by everything the bond offers. Demands.
Weak?
He is still getting used to sharing his thoughts in some ways, and in other ways not. Venom curls into his skin and pools in his cells, but Venom fits. Riot tore - stretched - destroyed - from the minute it got free from containment, its focus was destruction. Only destruction.
"You won," Eddie mutters. "I'd say that settles that question, wouldn't you?"
The symbiote is a satiated pool in his stomach right now. Last week they'd gone for take out; tonight, neither of them are up to it. Luckily, he's basically buying stock in frozen tater tots these days.
Why do you keep thinking about it? The question is almost plaintive.
"Is it me?" Eddie asks.
A pause, as though Venom is weighing the price of his answer, as though that does not answer the question by itself. Yes.
"Oh." That's that. But he's an investigative reporter; he never stops digging. Itches he has to scratch, things that don't fit, puzzle pieces he can't shove into their spots no matter how much he rotates them. It's cost him a lot - it's cost him -
The memory of that night bites into him; and it's his, but he knows he didn't call it up.
He swears and bites back.
you think they will mourn you - Riot snarls in their head - that they will be surprised? to know this was your choice? useless -
Venom lunges to its feet, snarling. Stop. It paces, agitation in their step. I don't want this. Stop.
But Eddie has his answer. So much rage, in that moment. So much lust for destruction. So much disgust for the traitor.
No surprise.
The symbiote recoils, leeching back into him, disappearing. Weak.
Eddie understands he is not experiencing vicarious regret. This is not so simple as the realization of a mistake, to be taken back if only Venom could. This is I'm a loser, like you; this is the heart pounding panic of the MRI room, of I can fix you and we have to leave before Annie had torn Venom from his body and left him behind glass to die. But it is settled, easing into his bones, weighing heavy in every crevice of his being; not mistake, just inevitable. Just who we are.
"You said things changed," Eddie says it soft, rocking on the balls of his feet now that he was on them again, trying to process. "You said things were different because of me. That you didn't want to do those things because of me."
I didn't lie. Petulance now.
"He wasn't surprised."
Venom shifts - squirms, like an uneasy child. Like him, when Annie used to -
I swear to -
You made it okay. To not want it. You made it okay.
Eddie feels, at times, very dense. But this, when it registers, settles in deep - buzzes through his fingertips and then his bones - sings them into sweeter, deeper harmony -
What changed your mind? He had asked, breathless, knowing with certainty that they were going to their death; and the symbiote had breathed back, you, you, you, Eddie, in time with their steps, but somehow - somehow this is better.
Eddie sits back down.
Eddie?
"Yeah?"
I'm still hungry.
Eddie smiles.