ⓜⓔⓡⓒⓨ ║angela zeιgler (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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gourmetburgers2021-05-23 07:27 pm
responds) wrote in gourmetburgers2021-05-23 07:27 pm
[vency] angel effect
[ It has been reported for decades that near-death experiences can be a diverse reaction. Some claim to see nothing but light. Some claim to replay the major moments in their life on repeat. Others? Claim to see angels parting the heavens, a salvation to deliver news that their time was not yet here.
It was not the first time one of her patients made the comparison – she had heard it multiple times during her career, but Angela didn't like it. There was no divine intervention here, no holy significance. It was science. Science that allowed her to practice medicine, join an organization that seemingly wanted to make the world a better place, and keep those in good health alive for one more day. It brought her to cross paths with someone that would leave a mark... that would show fleeting faith was not what would save someone.
A scientific mind wants to know how, to know the workings on something that was presented to them. She couldn't. Angela fails time and time again to think of what the symbiote did to her – for all methods to her own knowledge? She should be dead. Then again, so should the man recovering in Room 319 in the Valkyrie Medical Facility.
Angela monitored him – one of the few who dared to – for days, maybe even a week solid. Her time tending to his wounds were not purely physical, but there was something heavenly about how she treats her patience. Something an oath or medical degree can't provide. ]
Again. I do not care if you can run a marathon... I want to see your gait. Walk slowly from one side of the room to the other.
[ Her coat drags against the floor, her pen tapping to her clipboard. She treats him like any patient, no matter the... complications... he may bring. They had crossed paths back and forth, her notes on the symbiote adding to be its own novel – but she doesn't share it, doesn't publish it. It's for them. For their own benefit. The wheels of her chair scoot away, giving him room to walk – freeing him from an elongated bedrest. Her voice was a bit more pinpointed, less warmth and more direct. He responded better to that side of her. ]
The faster you oblige, the faster you can leave.
It was not the first time one of her patients made the comparison – she had heard it multiple times during her career, but Angela didn't like it. There was no divine intervention here, no holy significance. It was science. Science that allowed her to practice medicine, join an organization that seemingly wanted to make the world a better place, and keep those in good health alive for one more day. It brought her to cross paths with someone that would leave a mark... that would show fleeting faith was not what would save someone.
A scientific mind wants to know how, to know the workings on something that was presented to them. She couldn't. Angela fails time and time again to think of what the symbiote did to her – for all methods to her own knowledge? She should be dead. Then again, so should the man recovering in Room 319 in the Valkyrie Medical Facility.
Angela monitored him – one of the few who dared to – for days, maybe even a week solid. Her time tending to his wounds were not purely physical, but there was something heavenly about how she treats her patience. Something an oath or medical degree can't provide. ]
Again. I do not care if you can run a marathon... I want to see your gait. Walk slowly from one side of the room to the other.
[ Her coat drags against the floor, her pen tapping to her clipboard. She treats him like any patient, no matter the... complications... he may bring. They had crossed paths back and forth, her notes on the symbiote adding to be its own novel – but she doesn't share it, doesn't publish it. It's for them. For their own benefit. The wheels of her chair scoot away, giving him room to walk – freeing him from an elongated bedrest. Her voice was a bit more pinpointed, less warmth and more direct. He responded better to that side of her. ]
The faster you oblige, the faster you can leave.
no subject
[ It is not what textbooks teach you. Books don't offer humanity. Tests do not measure empathy. There was something in the way Angela guards herself, falling to a doctor and patient relationship when it was insulting to ignore that it was more. That they had become part of her. That she still feels it inside of her, the phantom feeling that expands like a black tar over her mind at times.
Angela knew as much as anyone did before – the assumed perception of what Venom was. What he would bring to this world. Yet, she orders her wards out of the building when she monitors him. Demands the wing be shut down and only she be his point of contact. This could have went other ways: a test subject and a scientist or a prisoner and their warden. She is neither of those, not as she watches over him. Not as she cares for him.
He confirms the suspicions – the truth she knew was there. Since awakening, since healing... it was there. Breathing down her neck and now as the 'monster' approaches... She doesn't yield. She doesn't step back. He's bigger than her, menacing and if he wanted to harm her – he would have. Was it her idealistic and hopeful nature that keeps her rooted? Or was it – was it something else? The connection they feel... the bond that binds them?
Angela closes her eyes at his question, remembering quite clearly the moments before their 'union'. What grave instance, what horrifying risk was presented... ]
I do. It does not show on any test... does not show an abnormality on any scans. I feel it, yes, but I do not understand it. Do not... understand how it is possible.
[ And for a scientific mind, this was torture. ]
no subject
[ He should be gloating, should be lording her ignorance over her as he does others... but he relents. They are now too close to her to deflect from the possibility of a connection, to attempt vainly to mystify and numb himself to the deafening rhythm of Angela's beating heart. The circulation of her blood, the expansion and contraction of her lungs, the pit in her stomach that she ignores to stand resolute before her monstrous patient.
All that she feels, all that she is is beholden to Venom without her necessarily even knowing.
It is time, then, for a transmission of knowledge. What some might call the opening of her third eye. ]
Give us permission, and we will share with you what we know.
[ Gentler now than he's ever been, as if slowness is a thing he'd just learned moments prior, his massive hand encircles Angela's forearm. Fingers like curved knives guide her hand towards his undulating solar plexus, stopping short of letting her touch it. ]
Open your hand, if you wish. Then push.
Embrace us.
[ If Angela complies, small tendrils emerge from the surface of Venom's chest, ensnaring her hand. The same tendrils expand, like an oil spill spreading through clean waters, corrupting all that it touches. Steadily, the black mass flows, covering her arm. Her chest. Her stomach. All before descending lower, until all of her is covered by the blackness except her head. But then it surrounds her there, too, until only her face is exposed. She is otherwise circumscribed, and that is more than enough for what awaits her.
Because now, she's in the abyss. Not staring down at it, not blinking back at it-- she is in it.
She is it.
And she sees what the Eddie Brock sees. What the symbiote sees.
As well as what they have seen.
The expansion of human comprehension's upper limits would be otherwise maddening. But Angela has her expertise. Her intellect. She has the psyches of both Eddie and the symbiote as additional grounding wires.
Because what she is beholden to is not dissimilar to what Venom has evoked previously, when enumerating what a former enemy was giving up. ]
Do you see it... Angela? Do you see it all?
no subject
H.P. Lovecraft once said that the fear of the unknown is what scares humanity, but to her... it was a challenge. To find an answer. To find something that she can make sense. Not just for the greater good, but for the being that saved her life.
She does not wear Venom like a suit, does not feel them like something she could take off. They...the ghost-like presence that coasts her nerves and fills parts of her mind... was not as easy to remove. Eddie would know that well. They were synced, at times. Maybe in moments of confusion or by a calling their bodies can't ignore – Angela swears she feels two heartbeats at times, she thinks things she never had before. It confuses her, frustrates her – and even now, she tries to find an answer when it was right in front of her.
Instead, restraint was truly the name of the game right now and she's presented with a choice. It looms over her, the unknown... the unsure... the uncertainty of it all. He can hear how hard she gulps, objections falling short of her lips.
She's desperate... she wants to know what is happening to her, wants to understand the one under her care. The one who saved her. Hesitantly, her palm opens up as an offering, the doctor a sacrifice in the pursuit of knowledge. When the expanse ensnares her, it was a sensation she had never felt. Snug, warm, cold, slippery – she can't pinpoint it when the symbiote takes hold of her. As if, despite the claim for needing to understand, there was mysteries still locked away. They can hear the croaked gasp, a stumble back of resistance only out of instinct before she feels her body swallowed.
They were tangled together into something bigger. And when it takes over her – her mind is opened to the view cast to her. It plays like a movie, knowledge forced inside of her and a clarity provided to a cloudy mind. Up was different than down and even in an expanse of darkness... it makes sense. The navigation clearer and clearer.
Embrace us.
Those words echo in her mind, beating at the sense of individuality she once took for granted. There was no her, no him – us. The bond and the need for more than one, single being.
They say her name in ways that make her stomach knot up, as if that would be one of the last times she was purely Angela. The connection they share hooks into her as much as it guides them and – for once, she looks not to the future but was forced to learn the past – something far beyond recorded history. ]
I –
[ The words fail at first, but it takes strength to push them past the tightness in her throat. ]
I see it... [ Does she really? ] Do you understand this all? You may see it, but do you understand? All of this – what has come to pass, what is now... Whatever binds us, consumes us now – does this make sense?
no subject
With Venom.
But as her trance breaks, and the cosmic deluge has finished passing through her mind, the blackness gradually recedes. Venom's form begins to separate from her until finally, the two are no longer touching... but no less connected. Now, she is as marked by Venom as he is by her. And now that the connection is finished, the dissemination of knowledge consummated, Venom steps back. He responds to the more human compulsion of Eddie Brock to give Angela space.
After all, she had been hit with something that would drive lesser minds to madness.
And then she intones her question, practically begging to understand her new level of understanding.
But Venom only laughs. His sinister cackle fills the room, a door being all that prevents it from sounding across the deserted halls of the facility. ]
That's entirely up to you, Angela. How much sense it all makes.
[ And then he permits silence to fill the room, to let the scale of it all sink in. Germinate. ]
Or how much it all doesn't.
The cosmos is so vast, Angela. And despite many civilizations out there in the stars, it's still so empty.
In the grand scheme of things, this is why we protect the innocent. Because life is scarce, and the innocent among us even scarcer.
[ Not that this is a recognition Venom came to overnight. His two minds wasted too much time being so fixated, so obsessed with the destruction of their first enemy, it clouded their judgment against the more pressing concerns of the world. The omnics dwelling in precarity, the global poor growing poorer-- an entire cosmos of suffering just crying out to Venom. Needing him to seek vengeance for the sins of both Overwatch and Talon... among many, many others. ]
But this is why we won't leave.
[ He gestures at himself and at Angela. ]
You're a part of us.
To be without you is to wander a desert without water. To let the elements break us down, waste us away into nothing.
We need you now, Angela Ziegler. Mercy.
We need you because you are ours.
[ And Venom is hers. He neglects to elaborate because of their bond, this irrevocable psychic pull between them. It gives Angela enough to fill in the blanks.
To insist to her that she's safer with Venom than she's ever been with Overwatch. Than she's ever been alone. ]
no subject
It was a marriage, in a sense. One bond, connecting two beings together. Something that was less on-paper and more through feeling. Through every nerve-ending that lights through Angela's mind. Eddie had time to adjust to the symbiote's tug, Angela not so much. She feels as if she's swimming in an ocean with no sense of direction. When she focuses one way, thinking shore awaits her – she is met with nothing.
So she swims, until she feels weight drag her down as she becomes overstimulated. Overwhelmed. Drowning for a brief moment before their 'bond' pulls apart, allowing her to surface. Angela had never experienced a sensation like that, something fearful as much as it was on the cusp of truth. Clarity. Hope.
When she is free from this, the feeling lingers like a ghost against her skin. Her knees buckle and she has to catch herself on her rolling chair for a moment. Never before had she felt vulnerable as much as empowered – and all she does is look up at him. Her eyes hold an intensity – of emotions she wasn't sure she could surmise. It takes his cackling to go through her, the claim that she was part of him. ]
You need because you hunger... A purpose, be it to survive, to pursue, to bond, to reach...
[ A staggered breath befalls her but finally, she stands up straight. He towers over her, but her frame was far from tiny. Far from frail. Even if he had saved her, they had saved her, there's resilience.
And that was the test.
She spent her night up and awake. A cold sweat trickling down her collarbone. Thoughts of what is she now racing through her mind. It was risky to do this, to be alone with this 'monster' with no observation, no 'back-up'. But... she had to know. Something called her. The desire for knowledge, the curiosity that had killed so many cats before her? Who knew. It was a calculated risk and she takes it – and he had taken her.
Angela does not like the feeling of being property. He can feel the shift in her, how her stomach churns and see how the color on her face flushes away. Yet... the saving grace was she knows the implication. Knows what this means. A bond. It was beneficial and comparable. ]
Congratulations, your dismissal... is pushed up. [ She begins collecting the tests on the wall, stripping proof that he was ever here from the room. Any trace – she's busy already. ] However... you will still be under my care. That is non-negotiable. You will not be under Overwatch or Talon's jurisdiction. Mine. Only mine.
[ And she will not be alone.
That was the only alternative, wasn't it? ]
no subject
We try our best to be a good patient. Don’t we get a lollipop on the way out?
[ Spoken as Venom watches Angela clear the evidence, keeping the findings for herself (he does think they’re in better hands than they would be in Overwatch or Talon). Yet he is interrupted by Angela’s big “However.” He stands at attention, dwelling in something of a tunnel vision. For as long as he’s still accommodating Angela’s presence mentally, she is all he can see. All he can focus on. ]
Oh.
[ He stops to consider what it must mean to remain under her care. More time... in her proximity? More time subjected to her tests? Perhaps she’ll find a way to help him manage his weaknesses to fire and sonics. Not that he’s ever been taken out of a fight when, say, Lucio blasted him. As Venom continues inoculating his body to such weaknesses, they continue to pose a very annoying setback at times.
But more to the present matter. Venom’s monstrous visage offers the closest thing to a quizzical look that he can express. ]
That only makes sense, really. If you are ours, of course we are yours.
So study us all you like. Understand this body, if you can.
Learn from our physiology what you can pass on to the sick. We know you’ve got the mind for it.
And we’ll make sure no meddling organization distracts you. No Talon. No Overwatch.
For we are under your care, and you are under our protection.
[ Though she knows as well as he does that she’s not all who he protects. That when before and during his recruitment to Talon, he was saving people from other evildoers. Punishing the wicked wherever it festered. And he was ready to punish as much of Talon as was present in the skirmish if not for Juggernaut, whose strength was insurmountable. Whose blows were barely survivable, if Angela’s experience was any proof.
Now that they’ve bonded, she must understand that she’s a party to Venom’s crusade. She would have to purge the symbiote from her system to abjure, as Venom’s former enemy once did... if that’s what she even wants. ]
no subject
Their bond was unlike anything anyone had come across. Nothing in Overwatch's history could prepare her for this. Dealing with Omnics was a hurdle that the world had to overcome, Null Sector came next. Talon, like a parasite, was always lingering – always there. However, there were limited studies on alien life, limited testimonials of conspiracy theories that may just be true. Angela didn't want that badge – she didn't want that honor.
She moves silently, stuffing the tests into her medical bag with a few additional medicines that seemed to be somewhat responsive to the symbiote – everything else went into the disposal for medical waste. There would be no trace, as even now – Angela had ensured their conversation would not be recorded by the security camera. It takes a moment for there to be anything else from her but actions, how she stumbles every so often from a disoriented and rushed state.
Angela knows him not by knowledge or wisdom, but by feelings. But, feelings can't be explained. They can be subjected to interpretation and it makes her want to find the words. She stops when they give a permission she did not need and he can see that a mundane life was being uprooted infront of him. Eddie can see that, maybe that symbiote would as well. A doctor, a hero she may be... but – this flies her into a gray area. Medicine was full of those. ]
Then you are to follow your doctor's order. We are to leave this place now. [ She can feel him – feel the curiosity and feel the willingness to stay close. To follow. To accept. Angela's way was mostly by the book, but how could she when this was not... anything she could have studied for? She does not purge the feeling of possessiveness, the lingering note that she was being watched even when rooms separated them. ] I am extracting you to an area few know of, something suitable for your freedom and something suitable for my studies.
[ She's to the door, bag at her hip with everything packed away. Her absence will not trigger Overwatch to hunt for her – as Venom is not the only one able to deal with a duality. A double life.
The door opens and the hallway was empty, from the windows peppered across, there was an unmarked truck. Their way out. ]
Do you have questions?
no subject
Overwatch is lucky that Venom has learned how much worse Talon is. Means they're living on borrowed time. Vishkar. The Gwishin. The Shimada Clan. The Deadlock Gang. Talon's joined a long list of targets with blood on their hands. Blood that Venom will force them all to answer for.
But first things first. The matter of their escape. The matter of what comes next.
Venom follows Angela to the unmarked truck, assumes immediately he's not necessarily invited to shotgun. But watch him take it anyway, reverting until it's solely Eddie Brock who sits beside her. The world doesn't know exactly who he is beneath the visage of Venom, so it's Angela's call how cautious she wants to be. Whether or not to banish him to the truck's interior, as an extra precaution. ]
Just one.
[ It might be jarring to Mercy, seeing the man beneath the symbiote. The humanity in his eyes that was missing before, as his gaze is entirely locked onto hers. There's a sincerity in him, a weariness from all that he's seen, that differs from the zeal whenever the mask is on. Like he's no longer driven by hunger, but drained by it. ]
Only a matter of time before Overwatch notices. Will they hunt me down?
[ He shakes his head. ]
Make that two questions.
Will they hunt you down?
Because I can say that I escaped. That I kidnapped you.
We're-- we're bonded, but you don't have to go down with us. Unlike us... you have a way out.
[ This is the price of the freedom that Venom relishes, the freedom that he pities Angela for lacking: until now, it's only ever been Eddie and the symbiote against the world. For all the lives they've saved and will continue trying to save, they're scorned for their monstrousness. Assailed by hero and villain alike for a disposition so easy to distrust. So easy to dismiss as evil.
He was practically an enemy of the state before this. Recent events only reinforce this position. So the human side of Venom, Eddie Brock, wants to leave no stone unturned, here. Wants Angela on the same page, given their bond. A possible way out that he can never give himself.
Not if it means giving up his other. ]
no subject
She does not abandon or go AWOL – but she lies. She keeps something to herself and for the "angel" of the team? It feels forbidden. It feels selfish.
When they reach the truck, she does not correct him – she's packing the back and by the time she sits down into the driver's side, she nearly jumps out of her skin at what was before her. It felt different – she felt confused, but at the same time comfort washed over her. A human tether, something familiar about this whole mess. ]
They will not know. [ Angela is confident, albeit a little reckless. Overwatch puts their faith in her, in her skill and compassion. She is one of the hearts of the team that still was there after their dismantling. If she needed to, her case would be clear – that the symbiote and its host would not be made to be a weapon. It would not be made to go under as some test subject. She had seen Overwatch lose grasp of the leash it kept on its most skilled agents before – she won't let it happen again.
Gabriel, even Moira. ] Your answer is right on your lips. We are... bonded, is the word you keep using. A bond on organic lifeforms are a balance. Severe the tie, remove the bond that they share... there is a loss. One side suffers, perhaps. Both sides perish, perhaps. It would be immensely foolish and cruel to do anything but understand.
[ To ensure their ... bond continues.
The truck hums to life when she turns the key in the ignition, starting the drive out of the hospital base they had been secured in. There's little reason for her to trust him, but she feels it too. Something that she desperately wants to understand. It was quiet for a few minutes, her hand causing the steering wheel to squeak, tighter than she means – nerves and anxiety rooted in her stomach.]
I have a clinic in a small village. Abandoned for some time. Overwatch has no knowledge of it, it was from my first... tour, if you will. It has been storage. My storage. We will continue our work there. You can rest.
no subject
Then it's settled. You and I are in this for the long haul.
You and I... and my other.
[ A black tendril emerges from his back, slipping out of the gap between himself and the car seat. The appendage waves 'hello' as a human hand would before slinking back inside Eddie's body. ]
See? He says hi.
[ Not that the symbiote's attempt at niceties succeeds in elevating the mood. Eddie himself hasn't been hoping for it, the stakes of the task before them all too salient for relaxation to be possible. Without Eddie, perhaps his other would fail to see the necessity of fleeing. Without Eddie, it has no real obligation to the customs of human society, to the idea of a reputation that must be defended or upheld. Angela, in her silence, is clearly calculating the consequences of her actions, and how to ameliorate them. How to ground her choices in reason, despite the cosmic irrationality circumscribing the three's bond.
Soon enough, Eddie hears Angela's plans. A way forward for both Venom and Mercy. ]
We'll follow your lead, Doc. Take us there in one piece, or... two, I guess. And you'll get that protection.
My other and I, we didn't plan this. All we wanted to do was save your life from the Juggernaut.
[ A split second's decision, whose consequences they could hardly predict. Whose consequences they're facing now. ]
But you happen to be a brilliant scientific mind. I was an investigative journalist before all this, so excuse the creepiness... but I know a lot about you. About Overwatch's activities, its whole network of relations before and after the Omnic Crisis.
I know our reputation might precede us, but we believe in our work. Venom's work. Because we're fighting for what's right. But we know we can fight it better by understanding ourselves better.
[ Eddie feels like he has to say all this to speak on behalf of Venom, taken as a totality. He knows that when he's in that form, he can get carried away with taunts and riddles. Grandstanding about his place in the world as some lethal protector.
Given the enormity it all, as well as the potential awkwardness of just spelling this out like it needs justification, he sighs. His posture weakens, the weariness of a life of vengeance catching up to his human body. ]
I'm just saying all this so you know. This whole arrangement benefits us as much as it does you.
The cure we want is an answer to the riddle that Venom represents. The reason we are what we are, and the reason for our bond.
[ Because he knows it's more than the hatred that brought them together. They like to think they've transcended that for bigger and better things. ]
no subject
[ She has no opinion. How can she formulate one? She's running on under a dozen hours of sleep for the past week – he can feel that she's invigorated only by them. For what plagues her at night, gives her life? It makes no sense, yet here she was – alert and able to parse the trip outside of a monitored zone, a safezone that Overwatch had liberated from an invading Null Sector unit months prior. As Eddie speaks, she glances over to him, brows perked at the tendril with a life of its own. Two entities, two mannerisms... she is not sure how to react with that but there's a courteous nod of her head to him and a small smile. ]
I would be a poor doctor if I was not able to ... adapt to situations. I did not expect this... and I feel guilt – [ That perhaps others had died in the line of 'duty' and she survived. Albeit changed... she survived. ] What is done, is done. There is no going back to undo, no matter if you would have chose another option or the situation would have been different.
[ Angela hits a turn that leads to a 14-mile stretch of road. 14 miles of forest would be a cover that leads them to a small village – the depths of the forest still ripped with strife of decaying machines, of where nature was beginning to reclaim. The crisis before – it was not a festering wound thanks to Overwatch, but there were still scars. She's use to the drive, use to how haunting each tree felt whipping by.
She feels a cold shiver roam down her spine when he mentions her accolades – she was not humble, but instead proud. One of the few things breaking the media's presumed "watchful angel" persona they make from her. She's worked hard – sacrificed enough, so when he says he knows her ... she wonders if he really does.
It was obvious they were on equal footing with this. When she took him into her care, when she recovered faster – there had to be some glimpse of the man underneath the symbiote. Some murmurs of who he was. She has questions – on if his own snooping and career had put him in this "line of fire". That makes two (three) of them. ]
You give a doctor a purpose, a reason to continue to do good and help. This is not an ailment. This is not a sickness. You... need care. Many doctors view it simply: a prescription, a routine, a therapy. This is much more, yes? I may not understand – heaven's know I will not fully – but ... I believe that forward is the only way.
[ And he feels that belief, doesn't he?
The miles tick by. Marker after marker until the expanse of a rural countryside greets them. There were peppered houses, small businesses in a more central part of town. There had to be maybe 150 people within a 5 mile radius – it was a place still healing. Trees were planted in their infancy to reclaim the earth that felt like ground zero after the crisis, buildings were mis-matched with bricks to rebuild. When they end up to a small clinic... it couldn't be more than 3 rooms at most. A hanging sign read "NO DOCTOR", the doors chained and windows fogged with dirt.
Angela sits in silence when she puts the truck into park. ]
no subject
Moping won't protect us from the threats to come. The threats we'll also have to protect innocents from.
As a doctor, you must know what I mean. Despite appearances, you've probably seen more death than we have.
[ It's almost flippant, the way he says it, but he believes there's no dancing around such subjects. Treating such things delicately, he finds, does a disservice to their magnitude. Their gravity. And though Eddie's addressing Angela, he feels no need to prolong any stares. His eyes are pointed to his side's window, watching city become forest. The woods grow denser, darker even, as the vehicle progresses, Eddie trusting Angela's familiarity with these winding paths. A trust, of course, grounded in their bond. He doesn't have to know, intellectually, what she's planning. He can already feel it. ]
The only way out is through.
[ That's all he musters in response to Angela's explanation - her talk of "purpose" and "care." Invoking the Hippocratic Oath without needing to spell it out. From Eddie's perspective, Angela seems to speak more for her own edification than his, and he can't blame her. This is her first exposure to the symbiote, her only beginning to grasp what Eddie's been grappling with for god knows how many years. And despite his experience, he's unsure what more to offer as a word of comfort. There's no way to really countenance the experience of being Venom, verbally... it just has to continue being experienced. Being felt. ]
If it's all the same to you, Doc...
[ He opens the truck door on his side and steps down, dropping down from the elevated height of the truck car to hit the dirt. ]
...could use some fresh air.
It's pretty quaint here, right? Almost pastoral, if not for the scars.
[ Some of the countryside that they passed was postcard worthy, but Eddie couldn't help feeling a distinct emptiness on the way here. Was that a symptom of a sympathetic tendency in the symbiote, or a symptom of his history in journalism-- his mind trained to spot trauma beneath the surface of things? At the very least, he knows it's trauma that's made its home in certain places, that needn't be seen to be felt. Places that have seen war, unrest, calamity... stuff that's made Eddie feel powerless and small, no matter his desire to disseminate the truth.
And then, of course, along came Venom. ]
Are you okay?
[ Angela's reticence isn't lost on him. Nor on the symbiote. It is, in fact, the symbiote who brought it to his attention. ]
Dumb question, I know. Just sounds to us like you might need some care, too.
no subject
[ They weren't honest with each other fully. There was some... bending, however. She speaks to him in a way she doesn't to her teammates – not even her own staff. Angela, for the most part, remains guarded. Yet... he was part of her. She can feel him inside, like a bad feeling she can't shake. An eagerness in her chest that makes her heart skip a beat every so often.
The clinic in front of them has not had visitors for some time, but it is as she remembers it. It brings a small bit of sadness to her, to know it has not been repurposed. As Eddie leaves the truck, she follows – gathers her things and looks out into the expanse far beyond the small clinic. ]
It is. There use to be festivals every season to welcome the change, it would be around time for one, I think. Visitors would come by to experience it before, now... I don't think many people even know of this place. [ It was truly a sight to remember, now that she thinks back on it. She noticed when the festivals stopped as a child, but... at least this place was still standing. Becoming part of Overwatch... gave her a reason to feel like celebrating again. Even for little instances of just "existing". ] I'm fine. Tired, in ways I never have been. It will pass.
[ Even among their odd relation, their unknown bond – where it feels intimate and invasive at once... Angela offers a respectful, small smile to him. Reassuring. Telling him what any patient would need to hear from their doctor: to trust them.
Angela ushers them inside, the lights a dull flicker fortunately enough when she tests the power. Inside the clinic would be a small waiting room, check-in area – and when Angela continues on, two rooms equipped with beds and the typical medical supplies one could expect. Further on was a small washroom. If Eddie shut his eyes, maybe he could imagine it in better standing but for now – it was packed up with supplies, chairs stacked high, and plastic wrapped around outdated computers. ]
How do you feel?
[ She asks, stacking her bag onto the check-in counter. She knows the answer, but it felt like cheating to even assume. ]
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[ That's the last thing he says before actually departing from the truck, having listened to Angela carry on about hope. Not the schmaltzy stuff that can be put on a pedestal, aggrandized by politicians who do nothing. No, Eddie thinks instead of a desire to move forward despite the ugliness of what's come before, and what may come after. The recognition that we can only do our best, and that we must at least try. It puts a small smile on Eddie's face to hear Angela's words, but he doesn't quite know what to think of where they stand.
The symbiote has conformed to the shape of a black leather jacket around Eddie. He keeps his hands in his pockets as he follows Angela to her clinic, which has clearly seen better days. Not that Eddie was expecting much, of course. He knows a thing or two about being a fixer-upper... so he has little room to judge the place. Instead, he gives the structure a once-over before turning to regard the same view that's seized Angela's attention. Breathtaking, to be sure, but Eddie's never learned to sit still. Never really been the type to stop and smell the flowers, even before the symbiote entered his life. Maybe this is why he was a journalist and not a photographer, never one to truly consider what spectacle can do for a story. The lost history that Angela speaks of, though-- the dying local traditions, intrigue the journalist in Eddie. ]
Sounds to me like the world needs to be reminded of what this place once was.
If not for, well... everything, I could've published something on that. Revived interest in some of the local flavor.
[ He shrugs, though. This is more a passing fascination than a genuine investment. There's little reason, currently, for his heart to actually be in it. ]
But you heard it from Venom, didn't you? The way civilizations rise and fall. Cultures come and go, the minutiae lost to the sands of time.
There's so much that's passed that we'll simply never know, let alone know to look for. Makes me wonder if everything here will be a distant memory too, someday... if even that.
[ That's Eddie's little soliloquy for the day, happy to also hear that Angela could be worse. He's not expecting the Venom experience to be a five-star treatment, but he frets imagining just how much Angela might come to resent their bond. Eddie recalls a time long ago, when he lashed out at those who needed his help, people like him who were desperate to understand how they could communicate with their own symbiotes and use those powers for the greater good. But cruelly, Eddie dashed those hopes. He rejected them outright, fought them off and spat in their faces for even reaching out to him... just before watching them all kill each other.
But that's not who he is anymore. He thought he was doing something right by joining Talon, but that was just another error in judgment. If he hadn't saved Angela from the Juggernaut, the symbiote laboring to heal otherwise fatal injuries, Venom might've continued to drink Talon's kool-aid. They might have taken Venom and pointed him at the wrong targets, like he's no better than a glorified attack dog.
These thoughts swirl in Eddie's mind, in the symbiote's, and perhaps a feeling of dread lingers beneath the surface of Angela's own mind, as a result. Dread over bridges burned, regret for errors in judgment, and sorrow for pain inflicted. ]
I feel... like this is more than I deserve. Than my other deserves.
[ Though the place is more like a warehouse than a clinic, let alone a home... it's better than many of his past living situations by several thousand miles. Relative to his own experiences, this place is practically a luxury hotel. ]
I know we're your patient, and you have your obligation as a doctor, but... Angela.
It's your prerogative what you do beyond that.
Seriously.
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You worry yourself on things long buried. Even now, there is still some life to this place. Albeit... growing much slower than previously. Set-backs.
[ She isn't cold about it, but the forced smile tugging at her face was reassuring enough. She doesn't want to dwindle, Angela was ever the idealistic even in the years that were the toughest. Her hand pulls out his tests clearly, laying them down across the dusted tabletop and stops shy of him asking about what she saw – ]
It could be a million civilizations, but the feelings still remain. There is something beyond human nature. The common thread all organisms on Earth, in specific, have? To survive. It is time that will be their enemy, not predators.
[ Time and place was almost Angela's undoing. The near fatal blow nearly ending this all before it started. She wondered why Eddie did what he did – her eyes catch him from afar as he's inspecting the clinic, lost in a trance. Thoughts race over him, mapping an unfamiliar face with a warm sensation – as if they knew each other in another life. It was the symbiote's doing, she knows even though the specifics were lost to her. The how, the why? It just is.
He interrupts her and she shakes her head. ]
No. Be quiet.
[ Another thread, another foreign tongue. This one German, with a Swiss hint to it. ]
No occupation on this planet is based on what one deserves. I took oaths. I've saved horrible... horrible people and could not save innocent ones. It is how it is, if we are bonded – you should know.
[ But, accusatory, more guarded. ]
Unless... you have business you must contend with. Say the word. I will be returning back to my main campus to file incident reports. I... can not change that Overwatch and Talon will show interest in apprehending you. I am no shield, but I can offer you what I can. All that I can.
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Based on what the symbiote can do for Eddie, and what their bond has done for Angela, he doesn't doubt her pronouncements on a grand instinct to survive. ]
I've survived a lot that I shouldn't have, thanks to this bond. Wouldn't be surprised if this happens to slow down my aging, as well as yours.
[ So time just might be a weaker enemy to them than it is for all other lifeforms. Time itself will tell if this proves to be a blessing or a curse.
And then Angela pushes back at him. Forbids him from self-flagellating, punishing himself for his and the symbiote's many sins. He who at least meditates on his past actions, devoting more than a passing thought to the weight of his misdeeds. Can the same even be said of Juggernaut? Of Reaper? Of practically the rest of Talon?
Not that Eddie's expecting a cookie for having a conscience. ]
It's probably written all over my face, isn't it? That I've made difficult choices. Impossible ones.
Despite all this power, things still fall apart beyond my control. People get hurt.
Seems I've finally met another person who truly gets it.
[ With that, Eddie gives her a wistful smile. Nothing conciliatory, like he's trying to lighten the mood or save face, but one that he hopes to express in understanding. He didn't take any oaths as a doctor would, but he did swear to protect the innocent as Venom. To be a lethal protector who would dare to go the extra mile, to cross a line many heroes would never consider. He's allowed blood to accumulate on his hands, as long as it means saving as many innocent lives as possible. ]
You've got that right, Doc. Ain't my first rodeo, anyway, being an enemy of the state. Now just so happens that Overwatch and Talon are both on my ass.
And this hideout is more than enough. More than we've ever gotten. So you don't have to put your career on the line just for me.
My other and I do have a lotta loose ends that need tying, outside of this. The kind of work only Venom can do.
Speaking of--
[ Within seconds, the symbiote envelops Eddie's body, emerging from inside him. The blackness takes over, pouring down every inch of him until the man is fully subsumed into the symbiote, and Venom is born again. In the privacy of this facility, it seems he couldn't stay away from his true self for long. His whole self. And his voice radically changes, made monstrous by the transition to this form. If not for the knowledge that it's Eddie Brock under there, he could be mistaken for an entirely different being. An alien in the fullest sense, not only to this planet but to the heights of human understanding in this advanced age. ]
--that's more like it.
Now, Angela... if you're still figuring us out, no one else knows what they're really up against.
But we promise not to kill your colleagues. We just want to convince everyone to back off.
None of that is urgent, though. No one is currently in pursuit of us.
So we must ask you, Angela. What will you do now?
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Eddie was the veteran here. Whatever the symbiote had done to his life – change it, ruin it, uproot it, divert it... his experiences gave him valuable 'data' to learn and improve from. Be better, as he wants to keep bringing up. The innate call to survive, even in a simple form like improving would be crucial at times, right?
She walks by without so much as making eye contact with him as he speaks. That wasn't cold, he could tell she was instead focused. The run-down clinic had seen better days, had once seen people lining up for her treatments and working well into the night. There was once life here, but now... who knows what they would call this.
Angela disappears into one of the clinic rooms, an overturned medical bed hoisted up with less concern and resistance. She felt a little stronger, despite feeling so fatigued. ]
In all of this endless knowledge, you do know you still must take it one day at a time.
[ Was she ... teasing him? Was she being too scientific with her words? There was warmth there – really, there was rarely a person who did not find the Doctor at least pleasant. Her empathy, her kindness, the sass of her character... there are reasons why those people stood in lines in this very clinic.
Now, even in another room – she feels like part of her is missing. The bed may be flipped over and the sheets stripped of it, caked with dirt and who knew what else – but she stops and looks at the wall... as if she knew Eddie was on the other side of it.
She listens, eyes shut and formulates her own confusing, unsure thoughts. ]
I am not worried about my career. Take me from a fully-fledged hospital to one 10 years behind in its equipment and I still can do good. You must not –
[ Worry? Her steps took her to the doorframe, and by the time she tried to reassure him, mainly to keep his vitals calm – she is greeted with something else. Something she is still adjusting to seeing. He can feel her heart sink, not out of fear but out of ... familiarity? As if she missed the sight... ]
We need to have time to convince. Time to be clear. Clarity inspires, clarity leaves little to doubt. If we understand, if we are clear – that will convince our story.
[ Our story. Our story. Our story.
There was no he or her – only them. ]
As it currently stands? Sleep. I am of no use if I do not get rest. Be it a fight, be it helping, be it... anything. This bond has kept me shivering at night... thinking of – you. All that you are, all that you have been trying to tell me.
[ Her hip catches the doorframe as she leans against it, running her hands through her own blonde strands, pushing stray hair back from her face. ]
Then after that? Making this place suitable. Setting up a secure connection and perhaps... trying to find where Talon has been in this area. They have to be within a 50 mile radius.
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There's more dignity in her profession than in the task he's chosen for himself. He once protected a vulnerable community that had fled from society, taking refuge in an abandoned city beneath San Francisco. That was the most he was ever considered a pillar of some community, and now... he's a complete renegade. A dark soul drifting. His dedication to his and the symbiote's shared purpose should be its own reward, but the absence of recognition - of validation - can still be demoralizing. He's learned to understand what his former enemy has had to deal with, public maligning and all. Eddie's former hatred was fed by the same misunderstanding-- so he can only imagine how many people hate Venom for the wrong reasons. ]
My other and I have spent the past several years on the run, Doc. The days sort of just blend for us now.
[ He laughs, though, matching Angela's warmth. Simply making light of what he's been living with for so long, as well as how he's been living. It's worthwhile to have a perspective other than the symbiote's for once. The two of them might have been Angela's anchor for the transmission of knowledge back in the hospital, but Eddie's starting to think that she can be his anchor: yet more of the human element Venom's always needed. More of the demystification Venom would profess for himself.
Speaking of which, it's as Venom that he later addresses her. Heeds her words about their ability - his and Mercy's, as one - to testify the truth. ]
Sleep sounds good. The restoration of our strength will be vital to subjugating Talon's goons.
[ Despite the fact that he's unfamiliar with the place, Angela's memories here bestow upon him familiarity by proxy. He understands where there's a back room containing a hospital bed, and quickly proceeds towards it. But to get there, he must pass through the very doorframe in which Angela stands. ]
You have been... cold, then. Cold without us.
[ With something of a neutral expression, Venom hasn't bared much of his fangs since transforming. He stays that way looking over Angela's shoulder, which isn't difficult, to then assess what was once used as a patient room. ]
The warmth of our bond is why you shivered, Angela. Your body recognized what it was missing.
[ Instead of looking over Angela, Venom looks down at her instead. ]
We don't know how to ask this of you. But it doesn't have to remain that way.
[ And for the first time, as fearsome a monster as Venom actually looks nervous. Like him in his colossal stature is fretful of walking on eggshells. Not wanting to impose in case Angela would prefer that room for herself, Venom takes a step back, crossing his arms as he awaits a response. But then he clears his venomous throat, sensing the clear tension in the air that connects his and Angela's bodies. While the bond that's formed between them presents a powerful pull, Angela represents the presence of a third conscience. In quiet moments such as this, with no other stimuli present, the mere perception of her can be staggering. ]
You need only join us. That's all we're saying.
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He can pinpoint her feelings – she can't pinpoint his just as clearly. His experiences yields so much... her experience was new, their bond so fresh that she's trying to make sense of so much at once. When it was Venom trying to help her bridge in the gaps of her new sensations, of her new feelings.
When she looks upon Venom, she notes the near... docile look. Part of her wanted to comfort the 'creature', to step closer and ... almost do as he wanted. Join him. Her skin feels goosebumps prick against her skin, he can feel the same cold she mentioned moments ago... he can see as her form nearly shivered.
Was she begging for what was missing? Was this not a physical reaction? She thought it was an adjustment to her physical state, perhaps an adjustment to the new... bond.
But, as they speak – maybe they were right. Something was missing. ]
Like before? When you... [ Angela takes a step back into the clinic room, the tension was there but she works through it. Finds new bed linens to make the bed as if they were having a normal conversation. As if any of this was normal. Angela busies herself, as she tends to do, but there's a small unsure look on her face that still has the warmth only she could offer in times of uncertainty. ] Are you cold, then? Since you... bonded with me. Not before. I want to know if you feel... different.
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The question is not how cold we are, but how cold you are.
But since we made contact, there is no denying a wholeness that we feel is missing.
Missing without you.
[ While Venom speaks, Angela's distracting herself by flattening out the bedsheet with her hands. It's then that she finds massive claws gently encircling her forearms, almost holding each of them in some kind of careful caress. As if Venom regards her now with a distinct reverence, with his body soon pressing up against her back. From behind, he still towers over her, looking down with something of a neutral expression. He's pressed so closely now, though, that there's practically nothing between them. Angela could simply lean back and let the blackness of the abyss swallow her whole-- the cosmic enormity of what Venom represents, now so proximate. ]
We want you, Angela. We want your warmth.
But we refuse to take what we can't also give in return.
[ Within him, Eddie remembers. Love that has failed due to the complications brought on by the symbiote. The fear instilled by Venom and his form. An alienation that made it feel impossible to love and be loved, but now? Whatever becomes of this uncanny intimacy, the critical difference lies in how a bond was already formed. Venom may still be alien to Angela conceptually, but that is far from the case physically. Not when her body has already been sheltered by the symbiote's protection, every inch of her now belonging to Venom, and more importantly... vice versa. ]
Remember. We are as much yours as you are ours. That is symbiosis.
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In such a short amount of time, she has not adjusted. She has not figured it out. There's something that's calling her, begging for her to just... give in. It wasn't human nature, it wasn't an ambitious trait Angela usually submits to – to partake in.
Her stance straightens and she sinks back into the darkness – caught off guard, perhaps wanting that wholeness subconsciously. However, she catches herself before she literally does submerge herself against him – the intimacy was still there but so... different than a preconceived notion. This wasn't lewd, it wasn't romantic, it was... needed. In ways that she felt she never had before. The symbiote didn't beg. Eddie didn't beg. And in this brief moment – she feels... warm. ]
If... this happens... will I always be cold? [ Without them. Even after they soak in a new, dazzling warmth – is it like an addiction, she wonders? Angela's back stays against him, both of her hands pressed to her collarbone, even with his form on – against – hers. ] Will it always go back to that?
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As Angela shifts her weight to lean on the figure behind her, this does not equal a subsumption into Venom's amorphous mass. But the proximity she achieves by pressing against him gives her the exact warmth that she notices. The warmth, perhaps, of belonging. By this time, Venom had already let go of her wrists, having only taken them to catch her attention and disrupt her attempts to busy herself. Replacing one trance, it seems, with another: the symbiote's pull.
By the time Angela asks her question, Venom places his hands on her hips. There is no erotic caress here, but a seeming desire to hold her steady. A means of keeping her from getting any closer, but also from going no further. ]
Yes. But not unbearably so.
[ Venom continues looking down at Angela out of curiosity, watching for the minutest change in her expression. What, after all, does this extended tension bring to the surface? What, within her, is waiting to burst? ]
You'll be reminded of what you do not have when you're without it.
Fortunately... we are not very far. We could be a hell of a lot farther.
But if you think this is warm, you must understand.
[ Carefully, Venom relinquishes one of his hands from its place on Mercy's hip. His fingers gravitate to the bedsheet in front of them, patting down parts of it that needed flattening. After doing so, the hand lingers, as if in contemplation of the very bed that it touches. ]
We can be warmer.
You must tell us if that's something you're ready for.
Something you... desire.
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They were at a crossroads – sensations she never could attribute to love or lust, but a sense of... home. As if this warmth reminds her of sunny summer days where the festival goers pass the window right in front of them. When the pull of home calls, it makes her eyes nearly swell up in tears. He gives her honesty, a gentleness that she did not admittedly expect.
Words feel short of her acceptance. That even after such a short period, her time with the symbiote has changed part of her. There was no denying. The dreams, the coldness, the difference in how she looks upon him compared to their first encounter – it was different now. Breaking the concept of individuality, it was difficult for her but – ]
Show me, then. If you offer the solution... I wish to test this... bond.
[ There was no romanticism to her acceptance. To her agreement. Science and medicine would be nowhere without testing... and perhaps – the fear subsides when she realizes this itself is a test and she is almost eager for an answer. For a result she can try to make sense of. If he offers her warmth, if he offers her something... she accepts, her gaze falling upon him without fear or even uncertainty.
Angela looks to him as confident as she did in the field, as if this could save a life – or three, if the fates were kind. ]
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[ Where Venom was gentle before, and careful, it was clear he was also guarded. But Angela's acceptance of her bond, down to her perishing any trepidation in her mind, strikes Venom as a vote of confidence. He can feel the change, like the opening of floodgates. As a signal for him to let down some walls of his own, his stare of intense contemplation becomes an enthusiastic grin. No tongue out yet, but fangs are nonetheless bared-- the sheer animality of Venom returning to the surface. Because now it seems that so much of what's to follow will be predicated on instinct. The kind that fills Angela with a sense of belonging the longer she dwells in Venom's presence, and the closer that she is to it.
Venom separates from her back now to give himself allowance for his subsequent plans. ]
Not that it's a bad thing. We consider this a fun exercise.
[ It's as he utters these words that Venom's hand, the one still holding Angela's hip, rises to her shoulder. His other hand retreats from the bed to clasp the opposite shoulder, such that both hands soon tug. Angela, meanwhile, witnesses the slow beginnings of him disrobing her, Venom taking her coat and tossing it onto an adjacent crate.
And while he could simply crouch or do anything else 'normally' to adjust his own height, he doesn't bother to lean over to pull down Angela's pants. Tendrils, rather, emerge from his body to slip into the fabric, slithering between it and her skin as it all obtains a grip. Her blouse, on the other hand, is another story-- demanding more attention from those same tendrils, that steadily unbutton her, coiling around each button and pulling as one would using fingers.
When both garments have fallen, Venom tosses them where the coat first landed. And he leans over Angela's shoulder, hovering over her from behind. His tongue finally rolls out from his maw, the latter a disarrayed arrangement of fangs. Here is a creaturely being that seems expressly designed to kill and destroy, but his lethal exterior is only... soft. Careful. The tongue, for instance, moves with a deliberation missing from his frenzied movements during combat. It glides smoothly against the surface of Angela's skin, lapping up the side of her neck and the corner of her jawline. Despite the thin trail of saliva that it leaves, Angela would not be mistaken to take this as some gesture of affection. ]
We can go further than this. We simply want nothing between us.
[ Truly, Eddie often wore the suit in lieu of true clothing, and today remains no exception. Eddie places that much stock in this bond.
And if Angela assents, Venom continues. The same tendrils that exercised care and precision before now muster that same acumen, some undoing Angela's bra while others pull her panties to the floor. It's when those too are discarded that she'll find herself clad in nothing, save for the warming presence of the symbiote. Of Venom. And now, he steps close enough behind her that once again, there is nothing between them. Only her back exposed to the undulating mass, the utter substance of Venom that - despite appearing viscous - is surprisingly firm.
He then enfolds his arms around her in an embrace that is distinctly warm. Like a hearth in a log cabin during winter, or sunlight after rain in springtime. Perhaps even the omnipresent glow of the summer sun that Angela remembers so fondly. It's with these feelings that Venom continues to embrace her, primed to consummate the connection that's been tugging at them since they first made contact. ]
You must tell us, Angela. Tell us if you're ready.
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She parts her lips to stammer out some poorly constructed rebuttal – but it fails as soon as it begins. Why does she need to defend herself? The ghosting feeling... is there a pulse he can pinpoint? A thought that strays longer than she thinks to when she looks at the being (and man) before her? It's invasive, but – she instead contends with the shift of clothing being pulled from her frame. It was easy to get lost into a trance, the sensations and emotions all a storm swelling inside of her. By the time her jacket was gone and those tendrils encompass around her. Her hands instinctively rise, as if trying to grasp at something – the back of a lover's hand, the mapped and familiar form of their bicep pressed into her. Instead, she feels the warmth spread across her bare skin when the shirt becomes another afterthought. ]
Mr. Brock – [ Her words finally stumble, and she nearly stumbles the symbiote's claim to name as well, but she fails. Her heart thumps against her chest, her thighs instinctively tightening in a guarded stance to sate her body's own reaction – how hollow she feels, how cold she feels with the shivering sensation he offers her then. That tongue... it canvases against her as if claiming her undoubtedly. Or, perhaps, when she undoes how human nature was so focused on one and one – he was bringing her back to where they would be whole. It will become second-nature, one day. He leaves her with the gesture, leaves her eyes shut tight and jaw dropping as if her body betrays her.
The promise of answers, of wholeness was too good for even the most noble and realistic doctors to ignore. For the woman he's bonded with to ignore. She gulps and nods. ]
And... there can not be. A life of suffering... of being cold, alone.
[ The summer she remembers was gone and heat was calling for her – and as each layer was pulled away and she was bare, he had all the answers he would need from her. Her willingness, her bare body allowing the black mass to press against her and take any lingering warmth she offers.
The firmness against her was a swooping, strange feelings but – there was something Angela feels obligated to do. To pull from him as if there was some last minute doubt. Her eyes meet his – whether she can see Eddie or Venom, she doesn't care. ]
I... am. If this happens, everything you spoke – our bond – it will be us. Together. Beyond us warming ourselves, beyond.. tendrilled webs binding us, and beyond a doctor and patient. [ Her words were strong, not lost in the haze of her own uncertainty or her body's reaction to his touches. ] Together in ways no one else can understand. Where words... fail.
[ Carefully, her hand moves as if she was trying to touch a wild animal. She doesn't stop until her knuckles brush against his jawline, to grow accustomed to the sensation on her terms as well. ]
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