Chapter Text
“Dean,” Sam starts slowly once he’s done staring at him, “Eddie is not possessed.”
“You can’t know that! We didn’t try holy water on him!” Dean argues.
Sam opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it because he realizes there’s no use outright arguing with Dean right now. Smart, Dean thinks to himself, because the time they’d spend arguing, now they can spend packing up and going to exorcise the son of a bitch using their baby brother as a meat suit.
“Okay,” Sam says indulgently, “let’s say Eddie is possessed-“
“He is. That’s literally what I just said-“
“-by a demon. How, exactly, did you get to that?”
And yeah, alright. That’s what Dean’s talking about.
He straightens up, ready to state his case. “When did that-that huge freaking demon thing first appear? Why is Eddie suddenly not so opposed to hunting anymore? Why the fuck is he stocked up with enough chocolate to last him for another decade?”
Sam is not impressed.
He starts counting up his answers on his fingers, ticking off Dean’s questions.
“Eddie’s been living in San Francisco way longer than that thing has been active. By that logic, more than half of the city could be the meat suit. And I wouldn’t say he’s okay with hunting; remember when we asked him to do research for us and he actually ran off? I think he just wanted to see his investigation to the end, Dean. You know how he can get.”
Eddie does have some of Dad’s more borderline obsessive, reckless tendencies, admittedly. But it’s not like he and Sam don’t.
“And maybe he just developed a sweet tooth?”
“He eats salad with chocolate, Sam.”
Sam grimaces at that, not glad for the reminder.
“And,” Dean adds vigorously, “and he lost weight. Now-“ he starts quickly when Sam opens his mouth to pick apart this too, “-what if the demon is feeding off of him? You’ve seen how much he eats, Sam. I mean, I’m all for a good, old fashioned heart attack on a plate, but hell. Even I can’t eat that much in one sitting, as much as it pains me to admit that.”
“I- yeah, fine, that is weird,” Sam finally admits.
Because seriously, Eddie should be gaining weight like there’s no tomorrow. And, well, he’s not.
“We gotta check it out.”
Because yeah, they might have begrudgingly promised the black, fanged, head-eating monster to stop hunting it- but if it is wearing their little brother like a damn prom dress, the deal is off.
- ●●●●
Eddie knows something is wrong from a few crucial clues. The first of them is the fact that just a few days since the last time they saw each other, his brothers appear on his doorstep.
The second clue is a splash of water- holy water, undoubtedly- tossed in his face before he could even get a word out.
And the third, and most important, he thinks, clue is Dean shoving him against the wall and pointing a gun at his face.
“Guys- Dean, what the hell! Oh my god,” he panics, at the same time trying to ward Dean off with the heels of his palms pushed against his shoulders, and trying to keep Venom from outright biting Dean’s face off.
His racing thoughts and downright frightened heartbeat are not exactly helping him in his endeavor.
And Dean’s death glare is not helping either.
“Sam!” Eddie pleads, seeing how his other brother is at least looking more reluctant about all of this- whatever the fuck this is- than Dean is.
“You listen up, you black-eyed son of a bitch,” Dean growls, making Venom’s hackles rise, “that’s our brother you’re wearing.”
And oh god. Oh, sweet Jesus fuck.
“Oh my God, what- Dean, Dean, it’s me. It’s me,” He rambles. He feels Venom coiling around his spine, just waiting for a word, for a thought of permission, but knows he won’t necessarily wait until Eddie approves it before taking on the threat.
The threat that is at this moment his oldest brother. What the fuck is happening?
“Yeah, sure. And I’m Little Red Riding Hood.”
He will end up being the grandma if he doesn’t get the fuck away.
Please don’t. Let me try first. This is probably just a misunderstanding.
“Dean- Sam, please,” he tries when he sees that Dean won’t budge, “what’s going on?”
Sam’s brows furrow in doubt, “Dean-“
“No, Sam. Something is off.” To Eddie, “You’re good, I give you that. But you’re not Eddie.”
He marks the end of his sentence by tapping the barrel of his gun against Eddie’s forehead, and his head recoiling from cold metal is all Venom.
He’s panicking too. Eddie can feel it like there’s simultaneously too much and not enough air in his lungs.
“Dean, I am. I swear, it’s me. Please put down the gun.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna do that.”
The safety clicks off-
Eddie! That’s enough!
No! Don’t! Not yet, V. Give me a chance.
“Tell us what the hell are you and what you did to Eddie,” Dean demands.
“I didn’t do anything, it’s me!” He yells.
“Bullshit!” Dean barks, shaking him.
Venom snarls, and it reverberates inside his skull.
Hysterically, Eddie thinks how he really doesn’t want new bullet holes in the walls. Filling up the old ones was a fucking pain.
You’re thinking about walls?! Now?! Venom’s disbelief at picking him as a host is clear as day.
I’m under stress! Let me be! Eddie defends.
“It’s not!” He screams back at his brother and shoves.
Or, well. Venom shoves- and Dean stumbles back into Sam hard enough to pitch them both off- balance and send them tumbling down in a tangle of limbs.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck-
“Sorry,” he squeaks, grabbing his jacket and his keys and they bolt out of the apartment with lightning speed.
- ●●●●
They stare out the open doorway in baffled silence. That- that didn’t really go as planned.
Dean expected the thing to drop the pretense as soon as he called it out. But it just kept the show going. Whatever it is, it’s a stubborn bastard, Dean will it give it that.
“You on board with this now?” He asks Sam as they pick themselves up.
He can still feel the pressure where Eddie’s hands pushed him. Christ. Demon not using telekinesis- or whatever demon-mojo- to push them away is weird. And it brings up a doubt of it being a demon at all. It didn’t even react to holy water.
Oh, it’s something possessing Eddie alright. Dean just isn’t so sure what it is anymore.
“What if it’s something else?” Sam asks, apparently thinking along the same lines as Dean.
He scrubs a hand over his face. They haven’t been here even for a day and he’s already tired of it all.
“I don’t know, Sam.”
“What if it’s a spirit, or- or-“
“Then we find a way to get it out of him.”
“And what if we can’t find a way to do that? Dean, the silver isn’t hurting it. And neither is holy water.”
“Then we use the angel blade. Hell, that covers pretty much everything, doesn’t it?”
Sam’s eyebrows make a beeline for his hairline, “You want to stab Eddie?”
And shit. Fuck. He’s right.
Dean throws his hands up. “Well, in that case, I’m out of ideas.”
They search the place, carefully; because once they get Eddie back, he’s gonna bitch at them like nothing for going through his things. But there are no runes, no sigils, no hex bags, no eyes in jars or shit like that. Save for the scary amount of chocolate and impressive stock of his fridge (and the disturbing sight of pizza leftovers covered in chocolate in the microwave), Eddie’s apartment is completely normal.
But then again, monsters have made pretend-normalcy an art.
- ●●●●
Venom steers them in the direction of the pet store. Eddie doesn’t know why but anywhere where his brothers are not is good enough for him.
His eyes blink at the tank swarming with small slivery-red fish with beautiful tails whose pattern reminds Eddie of tiger stripes. The tag in the bottom says those are Red Mosaic Guppy.
Hey, Eddie-
I’m not buying them so you can eat them, Eddie cuts off Venom's expected request. He feels his shoulders draw up by an inch with Venom’s petulance, but as they keep watching the fish swim about peacefully, the muscles relax.
They watch in silence as two Black Veil Tail Angelfish amble through fake seaweed, glorious tails and tiny flippers swooshing through the water. Venom follows their movements with the focus of a cat that’s about to dip its paw into a fishbowl, so Eddie decides that’s enough fish-watching for now.
Besides, the mere thought of fish guts versus fish meat ratio in goldfish is making his stomach turn.
He greets the store worker who’s been eyeing him suspiciously for a while now goodbye and is reminded of his would-be-dinner when his own hunger makes itself aware with a growl of his stomach.
He sighs pitifully. Right. They’ll have to go buy something.
- ●●●●
“Where do you think they went?” Sam asks, trying to bring Dean out of his brooding where he’s slumped on Eddie’s couch.
“I don’t freaking know. To sacrifice babies to Satan?” He frowns, “Or, uh, not Satan, but you get what I mean.”
Sam rolls his eyes.
He wants to suggest they get back to bunker, do some research because Sam has no idea what they’re dealing with here.
Eddie went a long way from skinny little kid they first met but he still couldn’t have the strength to shove Dean- both of them, really- away so effortlessly. So it’s something that’s strong, fast, and is possibly feeding off of Eddie despite the copious amounts of food it already consumes through him.
Sam is still not convinced that Eddie is the host of that “demon of San Francisco”- and he kind of doubts that Dean thinks so too. It would be too easy. Right?
Or maybe not easy since they still don’t know what exactly that is. And how to kill it.
Dean groans loudly.
“Okay. Let’s just- let’s go over this. Again.”
“I think we should go back to the bunker,” he admits quickly.
Dean stares at him. “What? Hell on. Sam, Eddie is-“
“Yeah, I know, Dean. But how are we supposed to help him if we don’t know what’s got him?”
Dean is overprotective by nature, there’s just no going around it. God knows Sam tried and all it gave him were headaches. But that also means that he has a nasty habit of rushing in headfirst without regard for consequences.
…kind of like Eddie and, Christ, what atrocity did Sam commit in his past life to deserve getting saddled up with the two of them?
“Let’s talk to his friends. Maybe they noticed something weird about him,” Dean suggests instead.
“You know any of his friends?”
Honestly, Sam doesn’t recall Eddie ever talking about anyone he hangs out with. He feels guilty for not asking.
- ●●●●
Anne’s just settled down on the couch with a glass of red wine when someone knocked on the door. She expected Eddie and Venom because, well, it’s just about the time when they go out for their…thing, and they’ve developed somewhat of a habit of stopping by to say hello.
What she didn’t expect were Eddie’s brothers, wearing patented, handsome Winchester/Brock faces of misery. Dean’s is spiced up with an expression of a wet cat, and Sam’s with that of a kicked puppy.
She blinks at them, taken aback because, according to Eddie, they’ve only left town a couple of days ago- and from previous experiences, she knows that the next visit should be scheduled in about six months.
“Hi?” She voices with confusion, only slightly self-conscious in Dan’s pajama bottoms and a T-shirt with his college’s logo printed on the front.
“Anne, hi,” Sam says awkwardly, “sorry for dropping by like this, but we hoped we could talk.”
At the same time, Dean says, “We need to talk.”
Well, if Dean’s here to make good on his promise from the shovel talk from their first meeting, she figures he’s about a year too late. Thus eliminates that possibility and lets them in.
“Sorry but, how did you know where I live?” She asks, sure that Eddie would ask before giving them her address- or at least called to give her a heads up.
Sam hunches down sheepishly, “We uh- Internet?”
She blinks, “Right.” She goes to pick her glass of wine; she’s got a feeling she’ll need it if she wants to survive this.
“Ask away,” she says, ready to bullshit them like she never did anyone else.
- ●●●●
Eddie heaves himself up onto a dock, water splashing behind him and completely dry as Venom retracts under his skin.
As it turned out, Eddie had on his person a total of a bit of rusty pocket change, so a cooked meal was off the table. The seals, though, satisfied Venom’s hunger- and to extent Eddie’s- quite nicely.
The copper in his mouth is not as nice. But, Eddie is learning how to live with it.
I’m adapting, see? You’re not the only fancy fucker who can do it.
Venom snorts, responds, Keep telling yourself that.
Why thank you for permission. I will.
Venom grumbles about smart-ass humans and nudges them in direction of the parking lot, where they left their bike.
Now, as nice as the mental link is- Eddie has learned to appreciate it very, very much- it also means that there’s pretty much nothing they can hide from each other.
You’re avoiding thinking about your brothers, Venom calls him out on the highway.
Eddie sighs because- Yeah.
Why?
Because they tried to kill me? Hesitantly and with a tinge of confusion, Us? Anyway, they figured it out. Somehow.
Eddie doesn’t have any solid evidence- except for Dean shoving a gun in his face- but there’s no other explanation.
He hoped they’d drop their interest in Venom once they pleaded them and showed them they don’t mean harm- To the innocent.
But apparently he was wrong.
They don’t believe that I am good, Venom says with conviction, they think I’m hurting you.
Eddie clears his suddenly tight throat, blinks to clear his vision, They don’t know shit. You’re good.
He’s not getting choked up for himself; it’s all Venom, all their nerves and thoughts and feelings tangled up and knit together- and they have no other outlet than through his own tears.
Eddie has to find a way to explain it to them that this is all one huge mess of a misunderstanding. He needs to get it through their thick, Winchester-stubborn skulls that Venom is not a monster they have to kill.
You’re also Winchester-stubborn.
Exactly.
Something will have to give and it’s not going to be Eddie.
- ●●●●
They’ve barely plopped themselves back in Impala when Eddie’s phone started ringing. The…thing riding him left it behind in its hurry to flee the apartment. They took it with them in hopes of finding some clues on it, but they haven’t actually had luck in cracking the password yet.
It lights up with ‘Anne’ flashing brightly on the screen.
“So much about not staying in contact,” Dean comments, watching the device ring.
They asked Anne all the right, innocent questions. And she told them that she and Eddie don’t talk anymore, no sir, and that she honestly can’t say what he’s up to or where he might be. Which wouldn’t be so hard to believe after one year since breaking off the engagement, but, well, the truth is literally shining into their faces.
“Dude, isn’t she, like, a lawyer? Lawyers aren’t supposed to lie.”
Dean knew he liked her for a reason- and it wasn’t just making sure Eddie doesn’t end up merging with his laptop and his files and his articles and what-not- but it’s kinda inconvenient when it’s standing in the way of finding their brother.
“You know this means she probably knows something?” Sam pipes up, the phone still ringing.
“No shit she knows something. Nobody stays in contact with their ex just for giggles.” Not even Eddie, no matter how big of a softie he is. At least Dean thinks so.
If they’re still talking, that means that there’s something holding them together. Dean wonders if it’s this monster. Does Anne know? Did she notice how Eddie changed?
Sam rolls his eyes at him, “Right. You think Eddie might come here?”
“Oh, I bet he will,” he says. Then he admits, “I just don’t know when.”
Until then, he supposes they’ll just have to wait. Great.
- ●●●●
They crawl in through Anne and Dan’s bedroom window, conveniently on the side not facing the street where his brothers are not so inconspicuously parked.
They are not giving up.
“No.”
They went after Anne.
“To Anne, V. Not after her.”
Same thing.
“It’s really not.”
Su-
Footsteps advance and then the door slowly opens. Anne looks at them sitting underneath the windowsill.
“I heard your voice. C’mon, there’s chocolate milk in the fridge,” she tells them.
They shuffle up on their feet and follow after her.
“You guys want to clue me in on why I just had to play 20 questions with your brothers?” She calls over her shoulder and Eddie cringes.
“Sorry. It’s, uh, a long story.”
“Yeah, well. By the looks of it, your brothers are not going anywhere, so we have time. Start talking.”
And yeah, there’s that no-nonsense attitude that got Eddie wrapped around her finger.
I can have a no-nonsense attitude too, Eddie.
Eddie ignores him, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks.
“Uh, well. They know about V. And I’m pretty sure they want to kill him,” he sums up, despite his previous statement.
Anne hands him a carton of chocolate milk and straw and pours a fresh glass of red wine for herself. Ah, alcohol. Eddie misses it in times like this. But Venom has a strange aversion to it, so they had to make a compromise. He gets to drink on New Year’s Eve because everybody drinks on New Year’s Eve, and he gets to drink on his birthday because nobody should be sober on a day they’re supposed to celebrate getting older.
As it is, he only slurps on his chocolate milk sulkily.
“They seem pretty worried, too,” Anne tells them.
Eddie knows and having to acknowledge it makes him feel like an asshole. He groans and covers his face with his hands.
“I need to find a way to make them listen to me,” he says into his palms, “preferably before someone gets shot or maimed.”
Anne is silent, so he peeks at her from between his fingers, dragging his hands down his face. She’s shaking her head at him.
“You are a mess. The two of you, and your brothers.”
“Hey. You say that like you weren’t going to get married into this family,” he teases, trying to relax and lighten up the atmosphere.
Anne indulges him, even though it wasn’t that good of a joke, and snorts.
“Good thing I didn’t, huh?”
“Yeah.”
If someone told him things would turn out this well- minus the, uh, current situation- Eddie would assume they were dropped on their head as a child. Repeatedly. But, yeah, everything did turn out great.
There’s a knock on the door.
Anne sighs, looks at the clock, “Might be Dan. Hang on.”
It- it’s not Dan.
“You guys, whatever happens- don’t you dare jump through that window,” Anne says, catching them looking at the window with contempt. Eddie is impressed she managed to sneak a peek at them from behind Sam and Dean's broad-shouldered forms.
We can make it.
I know.
But Anne would be mad.
Yep.
So we won’t.
Uh-huh.
In front of her, his brothers are staring at him like he’s a part spooked and part rabid animal. Which honestly isn’t that far off.
He expects Dean to whip out a gun again- but he doesn’t. Everyone is just standing very still, staring at everyone else.
“Okay,” Anne starts slowly, “I just want everyone to know, while we’re all still civil, that if there’s a single hole or a bump on this house after tonight, God help you.”
“There won’t be-“ Not even a little? “-no, not even a little, V.”
Lame.
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Okay, well, while we’re all still civil, how about you clue us in on what the fuck is going on?” Dean says.
“I really rather wouldn’t,” Eddie tells them. Because really, he’d rather chew his arm off and that’s a real possibility here.
Dean’s not having it, “Tough shit. Start with what you are and what the fuck are you doing with our brother.”
And oh, the accusing, assuming tone of his voice.
Eddie throws their arms up in frustration and yells, “Oh my God! He’s not doing anything with me! We fucking live together!”
“Eddie?” Sam asks.
“Yes! It’s me! The whole damn time you- you hot-headed lunatics!”
“What the fuck do you mean you live together? Why the hell are you cozying up with a demon?”
“He’s not a demon, for fuck’s sake! He’s an alien!”
That is the precise moment when Dean flips his shit.