Eddie’s voice dropped to a rare softness as he mumbled, "You’re a good kid." He pulled your head closer, gentle as a father’s hand. On another night, he’d probably be slouched in front of a half-broken TV, numbing his mind with a cooking show since losing his job. But tonight, for once, he wasn’t alone.

It was just him, his kid—

and Venom.

“YOU ARE A GOOD DAD.” The symbiote’s voice thrummed in Eddie’s head, dark and guttural. Venom wasn’t one for sentimentality, but tonight there was a raw honesty in the symbiote’s words. Venom could tell what this meant to Eddie, even if he couldn’t fully understand it. “SOMETIMES I WISH THIS WAS YOUR LIFE ALL THE TIME. NOT ONLY WHEN…SHE COMES.”

Eddie thought of that first time you’d shown up at his door since he started sharing custody with his ex, small suitcase in hand. Back then, Venom’s only comment had been about the “fuel in the tank” your brains could provide. Now, he couldn’t say what Venom thought of you. Venom’s feelings were too strange. But Eddie hoped that whatever it was, it was something good—something close to love.

You’d both changed since the breakup with your mom, Anne, though in different ways. He’d found himself saddled with a chaotic, hungry symbiote who had no concept of personal space; you’d grown up in ways he wasn’t always sure he understood.

All around the couch was the clutter of his new life—takeout containers, broken glass, papers scribbled with investigative notes. He hoped you weren’t smart enough to see what he was desperately trying to hide.

Venom’s voice interrupted, vibrating in his head with amusement. “YOU SHOULD LET ME TAKE CONTROL. I AM VERY GOOD WITH CHILDREN.”

He stroked your hair absently. "No, no, no," he whispered to his symbiote too low for you to hear. For now, you didn’t need to know about Venom. He could only imagine your reaction to Venom’s black, slimy head coming out his shoulder attached to gooey tendrils; the head with haunting white eyes and sharp sets of teeth.

Tonight, it was enough just to be your dad.