Venom

058

— 9 months later, 12/25/2021 —

It was a sunny December day today. A sunny Christmas. How lovely. The snow covered the streets of a busy New York, emptied of people, everyone opening gifts at home with their loved ones.

Helen would've woken up to Dean's warm lips grazing her neck, whispering, "Merry Christmas, darling." She would've turned around and smiled, saying it back before kissing him. Then, he would've made love to her before opening all the shiny presents under the gorgeous tree who surely owned.

They would've met with Mickey and Isaac, who had moved in together two months ago, when they officially decided that what they wanted from each other was more than sex.

The four of them would have had a wonderful lunch, she would've made some Italian specialties, debating with them whether they preferred Pandoro or Panettone, and kicking the ass of whoever said they preferred Pandoro. They would have exchanged more gifts, and then she and Dean would've gone back home, made love again, and they would've fallen asleep to the rhythm of their heartbeats.

But, no. That was not what was going to happen today. Because Dean didn't have a heartbeat and he definitely wasn't waking her up with soft kisses.
It was the annoying sound of her alarm to wake her up. While for everyone it was a special day, for Helen it was just another boring workday.

She got out of bed, sitting on its edge a little longer than usual, glancing at the empty spot next to her, and eventually got ready. As though to mock her, Derek had sent her a package with a new suit inside, wishing her a Merry Christmas. Oh, oh, oh, go fuck yourself you pathetic hoe.

Her phone rang and she picked it up, seeing it was Isaac. "Hey, girl. Merry Christmas!" he exclaimed, Mickey's voice repeating the same thing.

"Merry Christmas," she replied, less enthusiastic.

"You coming to our place today? We can eat together," he asked her.

Helen tied her shoelaces tightly. "Can't. I've got that thing today, remember?" She opened a drawer and took out the black gym bag.

Isaac sighed. "Helen, it's Christmas. And he's a kid. Come on, you can't be serious."

She rolled her eyes, opening the front door and then locking it. "He's nineteen. And he's part of the plan. Plus, he's a dick," she answered, clenching her jaw.

Someone else spoke now. Mickey. "Listen, we know we agreed to this... plan-thing. But..." He waited a moment. "It's been almost a year, Helen. Is it really worth the risk? Maybe you should just find another job and leave Derek behind, like we all did. Dean said—"

She cut him off immediately. "Dean is dead," she spat. "And that is because of Derek. You don't wanna do this anymore? Fine. That's your problem. But I refuse to move on until the motherfucker is bleeding out on the goddamn ground with his brains out." She called the elevator, her hand wrapped around the cold metal of her car keys.

A second passed. "Revenge won't bring him back, and you know it. Don't do this, Helen. We can't lose you too. Stay with us, spend Christmas at our place, get your mind off this shit for one day. Please?" he pleaded, his voice soft and gentle.

She felt like a bitch for being so stubborn and angry all the time. But it was who she was now. Everything around her was a reminder of how she'd failed Dean. This mess was her fault, and needed to be cleaned up. "I'm sorry, guys. Merry Christmas." She hung up and left her building.