Day 51: Lunch

[sanguinario]

Edward was glad to wake up to a period of respite. While he had been conscious during breakfast, he'd requested to remain in his room for extra "sleep", which had consisted waiting until the room was vacated to ingest the vial of Venom's blood. The vampire had lost his chance last night, but that might have been for the better; this way he wasn't

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[sanguinario]

Usually, Edward appreciated his telepathy. It simply made life easier for him; he always knew who to trust, and could easily win a fight without even a chip in his skin. Right now, he was wishing there was some way to shut it off. He'd heard a lot of human sadness in his life, and most of it slid off of him... but sometimes it cut too close. Anger was easy to ignore, and Venom's was no different. That wasn't what bothered him so much.

The sigh he released this time was an air of surrender. "My apologies," the vampire said, giving explanation for what he was apologize for, though he was sure the assassin would know. He ripped the drawing out of the journal, crumbling the leftover sketches of animalistic claws into a ball and discarding it on his full lunch tray.

He'd think of something to tell Bella. Eventually.

Once Venom had taken his seat, Edward finally lifted his eyes to examine his face... which didn't look particularly well. Tired and worn. He wasn't quite sure if he should ask what made him look like that - not after that emotional roller coaster. He hadn't particularly taken the silent threat of hitting him with a lunch tray personally. "Monster hunting?" He parroted the words, liking the sound of them. Glad that the tables weren't turned - that Venom was the telepath and he the victim of it - he silently reveled at the promise of hunting. Pretending to be human was easy... when he had the nights to get his own food. But sending it to him in a vial - he'd enjoyed tearing the throat out of that thing.

And that worried him. The proverbial caged panther, just waiting for a chance to slaughter the next unwary passerby -

"If you're serious, I'm not against it. What are you trying to get out of this?"

[anemptydecapo]

Blue eyes rose from the table, following the sound of crumpled paper hitting plastic. The eternal frown on his face grew deeper and coldness filled the void inside him, fingers curling into his palm. He wanted to take that paper. He didn't want it to exist, but now that it did he didn't want to let it go. He didn't want to forget. It was just childish indecisiveness, he knew. He shouldn't care about it.

Venom let out of a sigh of surrender to match Edward's own, bringing his hands up rest against his face and run his fingers shortly through his hair in muted frustration and exhaustion. Last night had taken a toll on him, yes, but he had to move on. For the sake of Master Zato and the Guild, he would always have to move on.

He dropped his hands back to the table's surface, looking no better for wear after that tiny respite, but no worse either. He began to pick idly through the small salad he'd acquired for himself with a plastic spoon and began to explain. "The same information as before, albeit with a different source." Specifically, a source that wouldn't require secret meetings in the night or, despite his own disgust with the matter, wasting syringes and needles. "Something has changed the animals and staff here into what they are when night falls - I want to know what it is."

[sanguinario]

"I see," he said, nodding to the suggestion. He would have brought up that they had already found one - technically. But... in the state Venom was in - and the way he was thinking about a drawing, perhaps it was for the best if he didn't bring up the not-Zato.

"Well, it's fine with me." He left off the part where he was curious about whether Venom was up to it or not, but... also a question better left unsaid. He didn't want to insult the assassin and be near-beaten with a lunch tray again. And, if he was being realistic, hurt or not, the man would be an asset during a hunt. As long as Edward didn't get distracted, he could make bringing big prey down much easier.

No, he wouldn't get distracted. He was better than that. He wasn't - he wasn't starving anymore. He'd accepted that human blood was necessary, and he was... dealing with it.

"Though I am curious to know... why you're attempting to eat a salad with a spoon."

[anemptydecapo]

As much as the idea of spending the night watching a vampire drink the blood of other beings, antagonists or no, sickened him, he had to eat something. His stomach rebelled at the thought, twisting in on itself at the very idea of being even partially filled, but it had no say in the matter. If he were going to do anything tonight, he needed the energy. He wasn't going to let himself fail to his body's limitations. With that in the mind, the assassin began the attempt of--

...A spoon?

Venom stopped mid-motion, pulling his hand away from his mouth to glance silently at the utensil currently between his fingers. "...I thought I grabbed a fork."

So those pain pills were having an effect.

He shook his head to himself and put it back down, resting it against the side of the tray, his other hand rising to rub futilely at his forehead once again. Kch... Taking the attention off of himself, he turned the discussion toward another matter: Edward was capable of helping. He knew this well enough by now, despite the various bumps and hassles to took to get him that way. But it was that hassle, a very specific hassle, that was worrying.

Edward could and would get distracted by one person if allowed to. He would derail all progress and turn all purpose of the night toward one goal if given half a reason to. If he thought she were in danger...

Venom's hands lowered down into his lap as he raised his head enough to look at the vampire, eyes cold despite having not settled on those across from him. "Does your fiance know what you are?"

[sanguinario]

The vampire laughed under his breath, his shoulders shaking once with the effort of keeping it under wraps. It wasn't terribly amusing within the context of them planning to hunt monsters just as eager to kill them as they were to scientifically analyze their blood (or digest it), but Edward took what he could get from the normally morose assassin. Even if it was especially worrying that the man could not think particularly straight -

- because of pain pills? Hmm.

And any worry he had for the other immediately vanished when he saw Bella; not her, but Venom's perception of her (totally incomprehensible of the subtle nuances of her appearance, of course, but it was her.) There was no way he should have known what she looked like; Venom knew the name, yes, but he hadn't gone into her house, so he wouldn't have seen any photos of her... and Edward certainly hadn't introduced them. In fact, he had been trying very hard to keep these two parts of the institute away from each other.

So how...?

...

Dammit, Bella.

It took him a long moment of serious consideration before he said anything. He'd failed at keeping her safe, and failed at keeping her and Venom separated, as hard as he'd tried. Did he want to entwine them further? It was a gamble either way - Edward knew she would never stay in her room, and he didn't trust anyone to protect her alone.

But he also didn't trust himself to protect her, either.

And he wasn't willing to sacrifice Bella's safety for the sake of Venon's curiosity, either. But... he had seen Venom fight, much more than he could say of anyone else here. And he was able.

But he was also exhausted.

"Yes, she knows," he said after a long silent moment.

[anemptydecapo]

As tempting as it was to stifle that laughter, be it through force if necessary, Venom instead focused on the ensuing silence and waited patiently for a response.

So Bella knew? She knew what her fiance really was, knew about that monster in him, and yet she stayed with him regardless? He didn't know if he should admire the girl for her devotion or question her for her sanity. She hadn't seemed more than human - what sort of future could she even see with someone as dangerous as Edward? Was she really more than she appeared?

The cynical part of him suggested she was only stupid. She was in over her head, having a vampire wrapped around her finger. Eventually, something would happen and this fairy tale romance would die just as everything else did.

It didn't matter. What did what was the plans for tonight and making sure that nothing went wrong like it had before. They couldn't afford to lose any more time if it could be prevented.

His hands pushed the tray away from the rest of his body as his fingers laced together on the table's surface. "I suggest she come with us." From the tone of his voice, it was obvious he had no intention of verbally citing that unfortunate night past as his reason why. The vampire should already know.

[sanguinario]

Edward stilled silently at Venom's new thought process, especially because it was about Bella and Venom didn't even know her, no matter what he thought, even if he had met her or not and -

- his fingers dug into the table so the annoyance he was clearly feeling wasn't channeled into the urge to punch Venom in the face. He felt it was a reasonable response, after all. Edward already knew it was a bad idea to left someone know so much about the two of them, but with the very strict situation, he was basically left with no choice.

He certainly didn't like to hear the pessimistic thoughts he often had for himself out of someone else's own head.

Before he answered the suggestion, he simply asked, "Do you think you are even up for doing this tonight? You aren't exactly beaming with a healthy flourish." The rational part of his brain realized this was the best course of action - the irrational part was screaming and beating the sides of his head. It wasn't a good idea. It was a terrible idea. He would sooner have Venom go out and die on his own than risk Bella in any way.

But, in this way, she would have more protection. Especially from himself.

[anemptydecapo]

A strange mix between an exhale of breath and an embarrassed scoff left the assassin's mouth after Edward's observation, and his eyes quickly diverted back to the tray in front of him. Did he really look that horrible? He could untie his hair. Nothing was stopping him, not really. Nurse would gripe, but nothing would come of it. He was gripped with the need to cover his face, to hide the injury and exhaustion he knew was written all over it. But doing so would only leave it more visible, wouldn't it? It would show he was desperate to seem normal.

He didn't care. Expression blank, Venom reached behind himself and pulled the tie out of his hair, letting his bangs fall back into his eyes and obscure the other's view. "I assure you that I'll be fine, Edward." After having hid himself, it wasn't as convincing, but his voice remained strong and commanding. "My health isn't the topic at hand."

He would have at least thanked the other for their concern if he wasn't entirely sure that it wholly stemmed from Edward's worry of Bella's safety. As it were, something (most likely the horribly contained seething the monster was indulging in) was telling him the vampire was only stalling for time. She had said he hadn't wanted this to happen - he was going to have to deal with it.

Venom tried again. "I spoke with her in the Sun Room. She wants to come with us."

[sanguinario]

It wasn't the topic at hand, no, but it was certainly one to bring up. Knowing Venom as little as he did, he still wasn't surprised that the other man quickly brushed past Edward's concern (which Venom was certainly right about - it was more about Bella than it was about him) and ignored the fact that there was a chance he wasn't up for this.

Regarding that same train of thought, Edward was having a similar uncomfortable moment. He didn't like that Venom had picked up on where his true concern lied so easily. He didn't like at all anyone recognizing how wrapped around her he was - ignoring the fact that he had dragged the assassin on a night-long trip to find her and his obsessive need to protect her and -

- he wasn't as opaque as he'd like to be.

"Of course she does," he breathed out the words in an undertone, covering his face with his hands as he rubbed his temples. This was getting to be too much for him. Too much stress, too much worry, too much out of his control. Control was what he was used to, it was what was familiar.

But even then things went wrong.

You're just being stubborn, is what she would tell him. And look where that had gotten him - absolutely nowhere. She'd gotten hurt anyway.

After running a hand through his tousled hair, he eventually dropped his hands. Edward could just feel the crescendo in the background, waiting for his words. They might mean little to Venom, but this was him, accepting not being in control anymore.

And that was terrifying.

"Okay. If she thinks it's a good idea, we can do it."

[anemptydecapo]

If Edward was making any attempt to hide the battle over his own indecisiveness and worry, he was failing miserably. Venom only watched without comment, eyebrows raised behind his bangs as he waited for the response.

He obviously disliked the idea of the woman even being in arm's length of danger; that was something Venom had learned very quickly and came as no surprise now. Whether that meant a distrust of Venom himself did not matter - he wasn't asking Edward to trust him. But as much as he held nothing against the other in his decisions, he still half-way expected the vampire to dig his heels into the ground, to fight harder, to dismiss the idea, roll, stomp, throw a fit at the very suggestion of taking her into danger with an assassin who a few days ago saw fit to let him die at the hands of his Master. It would come as nothing but predictable and, truthfully, Venom waited for it.

So the agreement, as stunted and reluctant as it was, came as a shock.

He stopped himself short of questioning if the other was sure (it would give him a chance to change his mind. They couldn't afford that), instead nodding his head. "Then it's settled," he said, eyes briefly flickering to the still crumpled paper on the other man's tray before turning his attention back to the owner's unhappy face. Edward didn't care for this idea, so to go along with it when he'd something to lose... "Thank you." And he meant it. "I promise that nothing will harm her."

...the next question was... unnecessary. He almost wished to let the subject die as the vampire had been glad to let it, but curiosity forced the assassin to speak, his fingers gripping tighter onto one another. "Why were you drawing him?" He was not going to stand for the image of his lord being reproduced without his own expressed knowledge and a valid reason for doing so.

[sanguinario]

Edward should have been insulted by Venom's assumption he would change his mind if given the chance (even if he basically been backed into a corner about the decision, not that he was blaming the situation on anyone but Martin Landel himself), but the assumption was... absolutely true. Already he was regretting the decision, but it was now officially out of his hands and there was no better option at this time. Venom's promise only relieved the vampire by a modicum, but it was better than nothing.

If he wasn't a telepath - or Venom was unreadable - he wouldn't have even toyed with the idea. But the man was sincere, and he would try, and that was enough. He would just need to keep a careful watch on the man, but he seemed stable as long as Zato wasn't brought into the equation.

Speaking of. "I was trying to figure out how that creature worked. It had some sort of psychic ability, I imagine, considering how it formed its shape. I was just organizing my thoughts." He mirrored Venom, his eyes darting to the crushed paper and back to Venom's face. "Do you want it?"

[anemptydecapo]

Yes.

It was a simple answer and that was all he needed to say. 'Yes, I do. Please hand it over.' That was all. He didn't have to explain his jumbled reasoning, that he didn't want to forget, that even this memory, one that had caused as much pain as it had, one that wasn't even real, still needed to be kept, needed to be remembered. He didn't need to explain himself to Edward or tell just what sort of importance that image held to the assassin. He wanted that drawing, he wanted it away from Edward and anyone else that had no business seeing it. He needed to keep it and remember.

He shook his head. "That isn't necessary." He couldn't take it. It had already been destroyed. Clutching onto shattered memories would only form another weakness to be exploited and he couldn't afford that to happen. It had to be thrown away.

In the end, he went back to staring silently at the salad he'd no intention of consuming. They've said all that they had to.

[sanguinario]

Ugh. Sometimes listening to the assassin's thoughts was aggravating only because he had a horrible habit of not being straightforward when he needed to be. Of course, he was also straightforward when Edward would rather he wasn't, so he could complain on all fronts if he wanted to do so.

Sighing, Edward grabbed the sadly crumpled ball of paper, unwrapping it as if it were as fragile as glass, smoothing the entire sheet out on the cafeteria table, unwrinkling its corners and edges and running his hand over it several times before it was flat. If he was going to have such inner turmoil over the picture, he could decide what to do with it. Sufficiently as repaired as it would be, he slid it across the table beside Venom's lunch tray.

"You decide what to do with it." It wasn't really Edward's choice to make, anyway. He had promised not to speak of the incident - and he wasn't planning to still - but even sketching it had stretched that promise too thin. It was terribly easy to understand Venom if Edward thought of Bella the same way; if the thing had turned into her and he'd slaughtered it like he had -

Well. It wouldn't have ended well.

[anemptydecapo]

...

Venom could see the exasperation on Edward's face as he handed over the sheet of paper, and he couldn't say he cared for it. He said he didn't need it. He already made his point to the vampire perfectly clear, and yet the other was acting for all the world as if the assassin was twisting his arm into giving him what he wanted.

He wasn't. Edward had seen him being demanding. That was nowhere near it. He didn't understand...

His attention turned to the given sketch, the creases in its surface making the already dark blots of ink drown in shadows. Photo-realistic it might have been before, but image was still tarnished now. No amount of care would undo that.

It was better that way.

Time was coming to a close in any case, and this wasn't a topic he was willing to speak with Edward on. Hands against the table's edge, he pushed himself up and out of his chair, then turning his back to the sight and moving on. He offered one command as he moved, voice hardened.

"Throw it away."