Surprise, surprise... she's writing more Eddie Brock. My gosh, will someone stop me???

Anyway, this is for milessmorales. She isn't feeling well today so I'd appreciate anyone of my praying friends to pray for her <3 I hope you feel better soon, love.

& look at this gif. 

It hurts me. 

///

"THINK OF YOURSELF AS MY RIDE. COOPERATE, EDDIE, AND YOU MIGHT JUST SURVIVE."

Eddie knew it was stupid and selfish, but he needed you.

He literally ran right to your apartment. His head was pounding because the parasite inside of him was demanding food. Everything around him looked appealing and at the same time, everything around him made him want to get sick. He couldn't find relief anywhere.

As he stumbled to the elevator of your apartment building, he couldn't help but clam up. It was dangerous to bring you into this. It was dangerous to be around you at all.

So in the elevator, Eddie sat down and kicked his feet, scooting back until he was in the corner.

"Please," he started, "whatever you do, do not speak to her. Do not even think about making her your next... victim."

"WHO IS SHE?" 

"She is none of your business," Eddie said. 

"EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS MY BUSINESS."

Eddie knew that the thing inside of him truly believed that. His heart fell in his chest.

He knew what he needed to do then. And it really broke him to think about.

"No, you can't hurt her," he started to plea again, but he shut himself up. He figured this parasite that was in him wasn't much of a talker. He probably didn't care to negotiate, either.

The elevator stopped at your floor and he got off of it. He caught himself on the wall as he stumbled around, trying to find your door. When he got there, he patted the pocket of his hoodie for the spare key you had given him, but it was gone. He cursed softly and knocked. 

No answer. 

"____?" he said, knocking again. "___, a-are you there?"

The door opened and you looked at him with a confused expression. Your hair was wet and you were in your pajamas - one of Eddie's black t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants.

"Eddie, my gosh, you look like crap," you said. 

"Yeah, I, uh, I-I haven't felt well today," he said. He leaned against the door frame.

"Well, what are you doing out then?" you asked. 

"I just really needed you," he said, voice breaking. 

You reached your arm out sympathetically. "Come inside, Eddie." You put your arm around him. "Have you been vomiting? Do you need a wastebasket-"

"I just need you," he said, and you brought him to the couch. Before you sat down, he said, "A-And a wastebasket. I have been throwing up a little bit."

"Okay. Just a second then." You got up and ran to grab the trashcan from the bathroom.

Eddie pulled the throw blanket off of the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders. He was trembling, but he was mostly scared of what the parasite inside of him was thinking. If it took him over like it did when those guys came in... he couldn't fight back. And you would be hurt or killed right in front of him. And he wouldn't be able to-

You came back and sat in front of him. Placing the empty bin on the ground in front of him, you put your feet up on the couch and touched his forehead. 

"I can't tell if you're running a fever or not," you said, eyebrows pulled together in deep concern. "What happened? When did you get sick? Just yesterday you were okay-"

"Last night," he said. "And hey... I just-" He grabbed your hand and then pulled it back, because in his head he was wondering what would happen if his hands turned into those claws. What could those do to you if he just touched you-

His eyes were full of tears and his mouth was twisted. He was shaking his head and he was thinking of all these horrible things-

"Eddie?" you asked. "Oh my gosh, are you okay? What is it?"

"No, no, no..." He shook his head as he muttered under this breath so you couldn't hear what he was saying, "You can't do these things to her. She's... she's my girlfriend, I love her and I can't... if you hurt her I would die. I really would..."

"Eddie!" You put your hands on his face. He looked up at you. "Hey, are you that sick? What are you saying?"

"I-I'm not sick," he admitted. "I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" you asked. 

He started to cry then, dropping his head to your chest. You wrapped your arms around him as he sobbed. His forehead was on your collarbone and he just put his hands on your sides. 

"Shhh... Eddie, there's nothing to be scared of," you said.

But you didn't know.

Eddie trembled as he thought of how dangerous it was to even let you hold him the way he always liked. He needed to pull away. And in his mind, he was thinking of how to say what he needed to say. He needed to leave you. And it broke him inside to come to that realization, but it needed to be done. 

Because he wasn't going to let that parasite hurt you.

"Eddie, sweetie, you're worrying me," you breathed against his hair. You kissed him and he winced. "What do you need from me right now?"

He swallowed hard. And then he opened his mouth to say-

"STOP WORRYING, EDDIE. I WON'T HURT YOUR HUMAN."

"Y-You won't?" he whispered. 

"NO."

"Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you so much..."

"YOU ARE WELCOME, EDDIE."

"What are you saying, Eddie?" You lifted his head off your chest and looked at him. "Please, baby, just talk to me. Tell me what you need right now."

He put his arms around you and shook his head. "I just need... I just need you to hold me."

"Okay," you said. You held onto him a little tighter and let him lay down on your lap. With his head on your legs and his body squeezed in on his side of the couch, you rubbed up and down his back. 

You leaned over and grabbed the wastebasket. Just in case he needed it, you moved it right under his face. 

"I know you said you aren't sick, but... you know. Just in case," you said.

He smiled, but you couldn't see it. "Thank you," he said.

"I love you, Eddie," you told him.

"I love you," he whispered.