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English
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Published:
2024-10-26
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1,521
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Keep On Dreaming

Summary:

A tendril spreading from his shoulder, wandering down his arm, expanding into smaller ones that wrap around his hand.

He forces his eyes closed. A dream, he thinks. Just another dream. Not the first, likely not the last. He probably should see somebody about them but he has no clue what to say or how to even start explaining them.

You see, he thinks, imaging himself lying on a couch, there was this alien who took over my body and then we fought other aliens who wanted to kill us and then he died for me and now I want to cry whenever I dream of him.

Work Text:

The dreams are the worst.

Darkness, suffocating and spreading, his body moving and twitching as it’s being controlled by an alien force and has it been disconcerting and disturbing before, now it’s comfort, now it’s desperately missed.

Until he wakes up that is. The water stain on the ceiling right above his mattress stares back down at him, the way it had done for the past three months. He blinks a few times and the stain blurs briefly as the last remains of sleep and his dream slip away. He sighs and forces himself to sit up. He knows if he doesn’t do it instantly the moment he wakes up, he likely won’t make it out of bed at all.

It’s three steps towards the small kitchenette, two more steps into the bathroom – somehow even smaller which doesn’t seem physically possible – and he splashes cold water onto his face. He would have hated this place, Eddie thinks, not for the first time. It’s even worse than their run-down apartment in San Francisco, the walls thin and neighbors loud and he has yet to get used to the lack of trash cans in New York. But there’s a roof and you can see the Statue of Liberty from it, somewhere in the distance if you squint, and he tries very hard to not think about that part.

A noise inside his head, a content low hum and he feels happy, no, he feels somebody else’s happiness, swapping over to him until he can’t make out just who it’s coming from.

He forces his eyes closed. A dream, he thinks. Just another dream. Not the first, likely not the last. He probably should see somebody about them but he has no clue what to say or how to even start explaining them. You see, he thinks, imaging himself lying on a couch, there was this alien who took over my body and then we fought other aliens who wanted to kill us and then he died for me and now I want to cry whenever I dream of him.

Another splash of cold water on his face and he forces the thought away. It’s a work day after all and it’s good that he has a job – Anne had said so, Dan had agreed and they didn’t even ask him if he thought about coming back to San Francisco this time, that he could stay at their place, that it would be not bother, not at all. He has a job here now though even if it pays barely enough to afford this shithole of an apartment, even if it’s not what he did before, even if he’s doing it alone. The word almost makes him flinch. Alone. He wanted to be alone again so much before.

He’s alone now. So far he isn’t a fan.

A tendril spreading from his shoulder, wandering down his arm, expanding into smaller ones that wrap around his hand.

“Brock,” somebody says impatiently and he snaps out of it. “Get on with it!” “Sorry,” he mumbles, reaches for the box in front of him and continues stacking the shelf. It’s probably good he isn’t here for this, Eddie thinks as he reaches for another can of soup. The temptation of the candy aisle alone would cost him this job. His hand tightens around the can, hard enough to hurt and he buys several chocolate bars during his lunch break and eats them all. The sweetness is sickening and he buys way too much chocolate these days, eats too much other crap and hates it but can’t stop either. After his shift is done, he heads home and lays on his mattress, staring at the water stain on the ceiling.

He should go out and do something, he thinks. Anything outside of drowning in himself. You’re grieving, Dan had said, sounding sympathetic and understanding. It makes sense. You lost somebody.

I didn’t lose somebody, Eddie had wanted to scream. I lost him. I lost everything.

The tongue licks across his face and he’d groan in disgust if he hadn’t suddenly realized that it’s licking away the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

He sits up so fast the room spins for a moment, his heart beating painfully in his chest. No dreams, he thinks, not tonight, no matter how much some part of him longs for the twisted comfort they bring. He has his shoes on and is out of the door before it even fully registers. He just starts walking once he’s outside, stares at the ground and doesn’t bother checking where exactly he is going.

He just walks and tries not to think.

Something nudging against his knees…

Just walks and doesn’t think.

...as wetness spreads over his body, legs starting to move on their own…

Just walks.

...tendrils spreading and pulling him towards one specific goal.

Walks…

Eddie blinks. And blinks again. Above him the Statue of Liberty continues to stare ahead at the city across. Confused Eddie takes a step towards it and then stumbles down to the ground as he suddenly realizes that his body is shaking violently.

“How-,” he begins and even the single word is more effort than his body is capable of. In front of him the statue still stands and how the hell, Eddie thinks, did he end up here. He manages to turn around, sits or rather falls heavily on the ground and above him the sky is dark. It’s night and there’s no ferry at this time and when he looks down at himself, he realizes that his clothes are soaked.

Did he swim here, he thinks confused, without realizing it? He knows he’s not doing very well but this is worrying to the point of him actually needing some real help. Not to mention, he realizes suddenly with some annoyance, that he also somehow managed to lose his shoes.

A tendril spreading from his back, latching on to the grass and pulling and…

...suddenly Eddie falls backward, hitting the grass, staring at the statue above as he lies on his back. ... she … Eddie, a voice whispers somewhere faintly and his heart stops for a moment before beating with such a force, it hurts.

“V-Venom,” he mumbles, and his voice is shaking as he feels tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. “Venom, is that you?”

... finally ... see her, the voice continues, still far away but there, somewhere inside his head. “Am I dreaming?” Eddie asks again and he can’t stop the tears falling now, running down his face. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

... idiot, ... not dreaming, the voice replies – he replies – and Eddie feels himself laugh at this, helplessly and shakily all while there’s still tears running down his face. “I thought I lost you,” he says. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Need … regain power, Venom replies. Codex … strong but … limits. A pause. Told you just goodbye for now. And then Eddie feels something wipe over his cheek, small and soft and a weak imitation of both his dreams and their past. But real, Eddie thinks as he leans into the touch, heart finally calming down. It was real. He was real.

Missed …, Eddie. “I missed you too,” Eddie mumbles. Reaches out with still shaking hands towards his face, blindly touches the small tendril there. Feels it wrap around his finger, barely any pressure to it, too weak to do more than just cling to him.

Doesn’t care, holds his hand and Venom wrapped around it against his face, closes his eyes and just feels Venom’s soft touch. “I love you,” he mumbles and he hasn’t said it before Venom died, hasn’t dared thinking it when he was dead, not even in his dreams, but now, exhausted, shaking and with no shoes in the middle of the night on Liberty Island, it suddenly feels easy. “I love you.”

I love you too, Eddie, Venom replies and it’s all Eddie needs to hear, all he wants to hear, the warmth and affection he suddenly feels running through him seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, Eddie unable to make out just who of them is feeling it and not caring. Both of them, he thinks. Both of them on the same wavelength. Perfect symbiosis.

“Let’s … let’s get you home,” he says, tries and fails to stop his voice from shaking. “We can get some chocolate for you.” Excitement mixing in with the love and this is all Venom, he could tell this much as he smiles softly at it. He manages to stand up with some effort and then looks around.

“Venom,” he then says slowly. “How exactly are we going to get off this island?” A long pause. ...statue … very pretty, Venom then says and Eddie lets out a loud sigh but still the warmth inside him doesn’t diminish.

They’ll figure out something, he thinks and the tendril around his finger seems to tighten in a reassuring squeeze. They always do after all. And as long as it is the two of them, they’d continue to do so.