a home in you

Venom

William

Will groaned and shoved his pillow over his head.

William

Will turned over in his sleep, trying desperately to ignore the little voice ringing beside his ear. Irritating like a little mosquito ringing next to his ear in the middle of the night.

WILLIAM

"What?" Will snapped out of his groggy sleep. He blinked blearily into the darkness of his bedroom, the only light appearing from the blinds at the window. He sighed and lowered the pillow, closing his eyes in tiredness again. "Go to sleep."

William.

"V."

William.

"Not now."

A black tendril slowly rose from beneath the blanket and Will cracked one eye open. Venom's little symbiote head emerged beside his face, staring at him with enormous white eyes. How did it come to this? Will asked himself that before, multiple times, in multiple variations, and yet somehow the answer was always the same. He could just not hold himself back from picking up another stray.

This is just how his life was now.

A pain in his ass.

"I know what you are thinking, William." Venom tilted his head slightly.

"That's the point," Will muttered, already closing his eyes again as if sleep could physically shield him from the situation. "And I told you to stop calling me William."

"But that doctor calls you William."

Will didn't respond. He just sank back into the pillow like surrender was the only reasonable option left in the universe. Venom had this knowing tone whenever Hannibal was mentioned or involved. Like he was trying to sniff out something that was both fascinating yet deeply irritating.

"Don't start." Will exhaled again, slower this time.

"He smells like copper and corporate fraud."

"Hey."

"And blood. Appreciated but not welcomed."

"Stop."

"And the violin was aggravating. He did it on purpose."

"Venom."

"We do not like him."

"I know you do not like him."

"We do not like him, William," Venom corrected. "There is a difference. He smells... fishy."

"People are allowed to smile, V." Will buried his face deeper into the pillow, turning it the other way despite agreeing about Hannibal's irritating smile. "..even with their dirty little secrets. Just because we are having these so-called conversations does not mean anything and just because you didn't like the food he was serving didn't mean you had to throw that back out at that moment. Now I'm stuck convincing everyone I just had food poisoning. I thought you said it was 'fuel'?"

"You did have food poisoning and it was indeed a bad version of fuel."

"There is no bad version of fuel and I did not have food poisoning."

"Yes there is. You were poisoned by the food."

"That isn't how food poisoning works."

"You threw up."

"Yes but—"

"Then I am correct."

"You made me throw up!"