All starts with death.
You guys in the new century have almost everything: God, prayer, headlines, The Rolling Stones, hazelnut chocolate, words and language. But someone dies suddenly, leaving nothing behind, and we look for God, ask him for help, grab a handful of regrets, grab the coffee cup he left behind, grab the comb still tangled in his hair, hold on tight, those are the only comforts you have, grab the gray-green hoodie, grab the tears, grab the people and things that are gone.
What else is there to say? The literature teacher’s voice sounds old as time. Maybe it's all. Life is baffling,and unfair, but it's still worth having anyway, because there is no other way here, you have no other choice, life, it's the only thing that's exact, it's a rare treasure, it's harmful trash. There is nothing else behind life, it is a toxic phantom dream. And yet it all begins with death.
No. Maybe that wasn't true. The pencil danced in Dylan's fingertips. Death is the end of everything, taking away our voices, snapping our pens when we are halfway through writing, shutting down computers, letting the sun disappear, burning out all the sky, death is the embodiment of uselessness, don't go gentle into that good night! Men clench their fists and try to wrestle, yet death just, easily, drops the curtain.
Death is the fallacy of your God. Sleeper twitches one ear. If he really exists, maybe he's justly desperate, or maybe he's just tired of his creaturely games. But either way, we're still here, trying to make a last stand.
The sky was overcast, dull clouds extinguished the light if any on a winter moon evening, and the tarmac beneath their feet was the extended blackness,which surrounded them. The streetlights,came on as they stepped out of the convenience store, claiming those remaining stars. Dylan hummed some music,through the unfamiliar crowds and impermanent emotions, the things that were gone that would not return.
Those dark shadows, the regular dumb bushes, the flashing lights and honking sirens in the distance, the taco stands, the traffic signals changing their rotation, their abode shrouded between the inky blues and oranges of sundown.
Flexo remained expressionless, its eyes glowing red as the Sleeper maneuvered,its bulky body around; it had died a long time ago, or never really lived; it was forever silent, clueless about the past and the future, and in the present it was muddled, too,so Sleeper took over its body. Klyntar is too far, drag this body it can’t back to hive. Sleeper takes on the tone of Saint-Exupéry and explains to Dylan, trying to make everyone feel better, that fairy tales are like that, making life and death soft.
You'd be a villain in all kinds of literature like that. Dylan spits more than once.
Who cares? Sleeper jumped on the table. Today it's cream of mushroom soup, and you're not allowed to pick out the portobello mushrooms.
I thought we lived in a democracy. Dylan pretended to complain.
Yeah, awesome. And that plate of broccoli, it needs to be eaten too.
Ah - Dylan trailed off, his eyes twinkling with cunning. He really should take a good look at himself like that. Sleeper thoughts.
Do we really have to ruin our pure and unblemished brotherhood over some meaningless organic greens? I might hate you?
You super love me. Sleeper serves him the soup. Careful it's hot.
Obviously,you love me more. Dylan unwrapped the chocolate from its wrapper. Here you go.
There were no lights on in the living room, the television broadcasting the meaningless evening news at a low volume, Dylan's senses sharpening in those days, the shifting spectrum of the electronic screen casting a hazy edge over this boy. The baby fat on the side of his face had faded considerably in the past days, and Sleeper deeply regretted it; he didn't pinch enough, and Dylan had better make it up to him with something else.
Don't turn on the light.
Everything becomes clear in the light, there's nowhere to hide, and the truth is always cold and brutal.
It's bad for your eyesight. Sleeper sat down beside him, and Dylan's hand caressed his spine.
I just, I don't want to turn on the light. Dylan's voice sounded muffled, distant as the early summer morning mist. The coffee table was a mess, and they let the chaos descend unspokenly, not bothering to wipe away the memories of days gone by that were too fleeting, too beautiful, like words themselves.
Looks like your ex-president canceled his meeting with the former prime minister of Japan. Sleeper said for no apparent reason. He isn’t very good at humor,compared with Dylan's rich and varied use of words, he more good at descriptive, conveying the most accurate message in the briefest of terms, like get rest early, don't be sad, I'm here, I love you.
That's how important weave and duck are in real life. Dylan rubbed his nose. Are you scared, man? He'd taken up sparring,and was adept at it, of course, remember what we said -- life is the only thing that's exact, there's no other choice to be made here. Eddie throws his punches as beautifully and succinctly as his writings, you see them, and marvel at them, while he looks apologetic. You guys deserve a better life, he writes, you're not like me, the darkness in me shouldn't envelop you anymore.
But the day is like a burning. The continuation of life is supposed to be a curse. It may be too pessimistic to say so, but that's the way it is. Two days ago Peter's son and daughter threw up spiders and through their brief childhood, swung agilely and athletically,streaming bloggers gleefully dubbing the video with all sorts of pop-electricity and flashy clips, and their cries were forgotten easily. But they were what, fifteen, sixteen? Sleeper frowned. Very young. Dylan replied, last time when Peter came over Dylan was doing his homework, and he landed heavier than usual. Are you going to, do you want to go to college in a couple years? Dylan's fingertips slid across the screen, and the next video was still of the two little spiders, just with some transitions. That girl was younger than me. Dylan said. Sleeper just circled him.
Normie had last contacted him through hive. But there was only a long silence. A long time ago they had briefly been each other's only friends, rejoicing in each other's similarities and differences, and then a lot had happened, but it had all started with death. I saw those papers of Mom and Dad's, and I knew what they had done and what they planned to do next. Dylan waited quietly. I'm sorry. Normie tried to cover up the sobbing with a low growl, the way kids like them were wont to do. Rascal never sounded like his old self again, he had been curious about everything, from the clouds floating by in the sky to the different eyes of life, and he had learned to be silent now. I'm sorry. Dylan didn't realize which things he was talking about, and Sleeper's eyes didn't blink. Maybe it wasn't okay, but they were no longer close friends who could embrace each other.
No news from Bren, but Toxin symbiote came. One day he appeared on the path Dylan must take to get home, they sensed it early on, but still chose that path. Nothing was meant to be a hindrance, and if it was, then face it. The man who said this is no longer with us, and so his children took the path of their father. I'm leaving. Toxin symbiote sounded calmer than usual at any point. Dylan didn't really remember much about him; he'd been too weak when Knull had descended, even can’t encompass the host for a long time.I'm leaving. Toxin symbiote remained the same. Have a safe journey. Dylan gave his polite blessing, and Sleeper nestled into his arms. You're not going to ask me where I'm going. Toxin symbiote’s tone didn't sound like a question. As long as you decide. Dylan hugged his brother a little higher, kissed his forehead.
Bye.
What left ,would never come back.
For a long time in the past they'd been drowning in sorrows, Dylan always waking up with undried tear tracks, Venom, at least he'd pretended to be Venom, pretended that the soul inside was still there, still still able to hold him up and walk.What have you turned me into? What have you turned me into!How could you take away my lips after teaching me language? How can you look at me and then close your eyes? How can you stop answering my calls, all those missing? Regret comes,unexpectedly,which is a word that encompasses both flowers and pain. Three months ago,we moved into our new home, yesterday we prepared gifts for the kids, this morning we walked Dylan to school together, Sleeper lounging on your shoulder, the warmth of your hand, me ruffling your whiskers, your smile is all my life.
Don't take me away! The symbiote roared. Don't take me away! He waved his tentacles wildly, without warning, startling them all. The symbiote ran under the moon, mad as a tree shadow. Our children are still young, and their world is cold as winter, let me stay, let me guard them, they have just lost one father, are they going to lose another now? I can't guard the love of my life, can't I guard these children! But on what grounds? On what grounds! We are getting better every day, and as long as we are not alone we will be stronger! So by what right!
The symbiote tore itself apart, trying to find evidence of what Eddie had left behind. Dad. Dylan cried out. He clung to the Sleeper, his hands are so small,and stained with the green dye from his hand class homework. Yet as usual, the damned world wouldn't leave him alone.
Dylan, Dylan. The symbiote rushed over, rubbed the children into itself. They're taking me, they're taking me. Who are they? Sleeper was mute, at that moment he didn't realize how heavy a burden of grief he had endured. He thought he could have done better, he thought he should have done better, but he couldn't do anything when the fire came down, the other saved them, and so Eddie became the price that had to be paid. Their father held them tightly, kisses falling without a trace, Dylan's frontal hair, Sleeper's cheeks, and sometimes he almost scratched the children, but no one complained about it.
And then dawn came, and Dylan clutched his father's tentacles, and they realized that there really was an ocean in the boy's blue eyes, so many tears, he cried spasmodically and lost his voice, but Sleeper just wanted to vomit, he didn't vomit anything at the end, and when the sky whitened, he realized that he, too, could cry.
I want to stay. The symbiote said at last.
But what left ,would never come back.
Dylan's eyes froze, whimper was all that remained in his throat, his chest rose and fell abnormally, his fingers still maintaining their grip. Sleeper couldn't speak, the sunlight cruelly devoured the night's dreams, go embrace your life, they are dazzling like songs.
Fuck you! Sleeper roared, his form lengthening exponentially, attempt to perpetuate the lingering night for his little brother. They were gone. Dylan froze, blinking back the tears that fell and nearly burned him. They were. As soon as Sleeper scooped Dylan up ,and helped support his faltering body, he pinched Dylan's jaw and used a great deal of force to force those pupils into focus. They were dead. Sleeper repeated cruelly. Dylan's eyes steamed with fog for a moment. They were all dead, never to return, never to connect or promise again, like no more hot cocoa on a winter night, they had walked into the cafeteria, one adult ticket and one child's ticket, when the clock ran out, their family was blacklisted from the restaurant. Dylan had cringed at the building when he first moved from the safe house, and Eddie had laughed out softly and pinched his face, zipped up his jacket for him, then the symbiote covered, their fathers had let him enjoy the heights with the warmest of embraces. And yet it all came to a screeching halt.
There was no...Dylan tried to find his voice, they had been scratched by the broken words. Was there no other way?
Any other way they were already dead! Sleeper shook him hard. You say! No matter who you lose, you must live on!
Dylan just cried. You're hurting me. Maybe it wasn't just Sleeper he wanted to talk about, all that gave him pain,and only pain.
Say it ! Sleeper had never lost his temper like this, he had never done this to Dylan. It was all too brutal, but on the contrary, it was the only thing that was exact. No matter who you lose, you must live on!
I can't lose you. Dylan cried out. Please, brother, I really can't ......
Give me a guarantee. Sleeper's voice was horribly cold, a raging blizzard between the words he spat. He let go and the boy dropped to the ground. He stood straight, in the same form he had taken when they first met. I want you to swear that, you will be strong,and live if you lose anyone, including me. He remembered his father's last sigh. Or I'll leave you here now. You'll die when the Foundation catches up with you.
He turned and walked away. He was a personal witness to his father's love, and he had thought that that overwhelming love could stand up to everything, but it all started with death, and it all ended there. What a powerful connection, Death cackled, Sleeper could hear those sounds, all-consuming love so captivating, so dangerous, it was his duty to end the continuation of such a tragedy, Dylan's future should not be such a hidden danger.
I promise! Dylan stumbled over to him, his steps as messy as his voice, his forehead bumping against Sleeper's backside, damp, the boy struggling to wrap his arms around him, Sleeper stopping himself from holding his hand with great effort, the world awakening before them, flashing them a sardonic grin. Promising what.
Dylan was crying. Sleeper knew this all too well. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the boy's tears, dreams, partings, some bridges in stories, all of it, but this time,Dylan was crying because of him.
The boy choked, like a hurt little beast. I promise... He didn't understand Sleeper's sudden indifference, but still believed his promise, what a strong connection, Sleeper was almost in tears over it, he turned around, wrenching Dylan's arm away, maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh, maybe the here and now was the dream, they had to wake up ,or how could they, so much pain, Sleeper tried to mend the leaking roof, yet There is no house here at all. Farewell, those good times and soft sheets, Farewell, the exhortations on the way out and the kisses before sleep, away from you I still remain! When the thunder rumbles, I'll wake up, you fellows! Don't you want to see us knocked down, crying, helpless? No, never! I am a child of Venom, as my fathers could embrace their darkness, so can I protect my brother--
I promise, I will never leave you. Dylan's entire body was shaking, and saying the words took almost all of his strength. He held Sleeper's fingers, his hair disheveled and his body dirty, trying hard to keep the tears at bay but only making himself more of a mess. I'll protect you.
What? Sleeper was confused by this, human language always contained too many metaphors, Dylan's answer shouldn't have been like this, there had to be some kind of answer waiting for him to figure it out. I'll protect you. Dylan stubbornly gave him a hug, tears and flustered plastered to the Sleeper's belly. I'll always be there, I, I'll be your words and your language, I'll do to you what Eddie did to his other. Dylan's body shaking and his back was sweaty, yet he said. Brother, don't be afraid.
Life just doesn't make sense ,and people fumble their way forward. The good thing is that they are not alone, and maybe they need lots of hugs and chocolate, but time passes like before. They walk out of the house, the mailbox is stuffed with flowers, the dinosaurs have left footprints; they walk into the F.E.A.S.T. center, the volunteer today is a kind-faced gentleman, Dandan noodles, and he tells them earnestly that forks and chopsticks are available; they walk into the convenience store, Jenna Cole has dyed her hair back to black, and today the whole place has a discount on fruits and vegetables; they walk into the church, and sit down next to the priest, and they've grown taller again, they were so small not so long ago. They walked into the church and sat down next to the priest, they've grown again.
Very fragrant flowers, thank you; please, we want to challenge chopsticks; yes, let's get some avocados; yeah, we've grown taller than last month - this time it's time to say: me. Sleeper reminded him.
So you haven't gotten any taller? Dylan feigned surprise. I'm sorry, but maybe in a couple years I'll catch up with you.
Just you? Sleeper made a gesture similar to raising an eyebrow. Remember to take your calcium pills first.
Time passed like that, maybe they didn't walk out, Dylan's closet was always flooded with all kinds of blue hoodies.This was different, this one was pullover, that one had a zipper, and they have different shades of color. Dylan protested. One day they have nothing to do, just sitting on the front steps, and there was a man in a gray-green sweatshirt, tall, blonde hair, fiddling with a DSLR in his hand, a black french bulldog on his back, spitting out his tongue, sensing their eyes, the man turned back. Eddie smiled better. Sleeper made a comment. But his other was indeed dumber than the dog.
I'm dying of laughter. Dylan didn't want to laugh when he said it, happiness was a luxury. So they went into the house and unwrapped a big bag of dark chocolate, finally even Sleeper couldn't digest more.
They unspokenly turned on the news in the evening, even though the voice they wanted to hear would never sound again, and the new frontline reporter at the Globe spoke with an accent much like Eddie's, but so what? While other kids collect autographs, concert tickets, sneakers and signed jerseys, they click on Amazon.com, eBay to collect those stale newspapers.How funny that,nearly two decades later it's been discovered that the sin eater Eddie investigated did indeed commit those crimes, but there has been, or never was, anyone who cared about the investigative reporter who gave almost everything for it back then.
Every year Father's Day corresponded to a different date, but they would always start preparing for it far in advance, Dylan would write a lot, comparing with words more like missing, comparing with poetry more like love, and Sleeper would melt the leftover chocolates from each day. When their fathers were still around the symbiote always loved to snatch the chocolates from his plate,and make up a new one,just to tease him or make Dylan laugh, so Sleeper would simply leave his portion set aside.
Of course, they still felt anger, or resentment, violent emotions like flying snow stabbing at a June sky. Like right now, they curled up on the couch, the newscast long over,but their eyes just lingering on the messy coffee table, they'd just had a whim that day, and it turned out that Eddie's selfie skills couldn't match his forensic prowess, but everyone had a good time, and there it was. Why did it have to be, well, developed? Sleeper don't really understand this so-called fixed collocation and idiomatic usage, but Eddie says he can trust thousands of years of English history and pragmatics. We're not just going to develop them, we're going to frame it. Eddie always has a gentle voice when he talks to him. Look at our little Sleepy smile. Who's Daddy's favorite kitten baby?
But what left never come back.
They began by just looking at their fathers, at their smiles, their eyes, the green heavens and the white clouds, the transient moment that was the light of the whole universe, the sunshine and the stars, the bright moon and the rosy dawn; the eyes that had long since disappeared, obliterated, extinguished, which didn't exist, as much as Eddie and the Symbiote did not, the thoughts and the expressions, the words they uttered and those embraces, the significance of these extraordinary things disappeared, but the heavens and the earth didn't even turn upside down, the earth didn't deviate from its orbit, people woke up as usual, sunrise and sunset, and the teacher was able to pick up on assignments that hadn't been covered last time.
No one told them: now life can begin, it can go on, only you have to bring all your baggage with you.
What travels faster than light? Dylan wrote on his first day back at school: time.
It whizzes through us,like an arrow off a string. The tip of the arrow pierces through skin, flesh and bone, which are life, and then pierces through language, which is death.
Perhaps faster than light. It's going to snow soon, six years or seven? It's just a blink of an eye, and in the mirror Dylan is no longer a cloud of innocent cotton, the darkness of death fills his eyes, well they are still blue. Time passes quickly like a white pony 's shadow, but sometimes it was extremely slow, enough to take their breath away. They were both the tortoise and the hare. There was nothing fair about life.
Venom’s leaving without anyone knowing, so their children must swallow all their grief. One day Thompson greeted Sleeper. Hey, kid. When did he grow a beard? Sleeper narrowed his eyes, it was close to Dylan's school, did they have to move again. We haven't been able to reach Venom lately, can I come in on his and Peter's group?
It should be them. Sleeper felt uncomfortable. One of his fathers couldn’t represent Venom on his own, not if the others didn't understand, but this Thompson habitually loved to appear intimate with them. It couldn't be. Sleeper didn't want to dwell on it; he hadn't figured out this neighborhood yet, and Thompson wasn't on his reliable list.
Hey! You were great last time, maybe we can- Sleeper went straight over the wall. Eh! Say hi to them for me--
You've gone too far. Dylan laughed, so Sleeper felt happy too. He says hi to you ,but you?It’s no different with telling him to fuck off.
That's not so bad. Sleeper leaps up onto Dylan's shoulder, he tells Dylan that he ran into Thompson, through a harmless montage technique, it's the same truth, just another way of saying it, keeping only the part about Thompson wanting to work with them, and not mentioning he talked about their lost fathers, or when he at the sight of the bearded Thompson,he thought about Eddie.
But then everyone found that,superheroes more or less have their own intelligence networks, then,even social media realized Venom's departure, which spawned all sorts of speculation and conspiracy theories, and a teacher at the school instructed Dylan that it would be best if he followed the school bus all the way home. Who knows what that monster could have done. Dylan relayed it fairly calmly, if ignored the reddened corners of his eyes. Dads never ...... Sleeper suddenly felt sad, he now understood somewhat what the Maker had said: your father saved the world, many times, but who cares? Eddie was just a loser full of lies, and the symbiote was still Spider-Man's dirty suit. Peter initially wanted to make the whole thing sound less unacceptable, so he then found a very skeezy excuse to try to coax them out the door, Sleeper was personally against it; in his opinion Dylan was having a hard time stabilizing, and besides, you don't necessarily have a good relationship with our fathers to that extent.
That's what he said outright. Peter looked hurt, his time was precious, always strung between life and death, and he wasn't young anymore, the auburn under his eyes and the smell of medical alcohol signaled the cruelty that life had dealt him, and right now he was dressed in nothing more than ordinary clothes, as tired as everyone else, when he walking down the street, you could hardly associate him with the superhero who always brought laughter to the table. That's it, I saw those memories, how you disliked our fathers, how you took advantage of his trust in you time and time again, and for whatever reason, I won't put Dylan at risk like that. Sleeper interrupted his explanation.
Go back, we are not your responsibility, go be there for your children, your family, because life makes no sense. Dylan stood up next to him, Sleeper felt the warmth of his arm. You're a very, very good man, but we're Venom's children, and we were born outside of your good.
I know you don't really think that, do you. Dylan nestled into his arms. Sleeper wasn't so sure himself. When you said those things, you weren't trying to vilify anyone, you were just trying too hard to protect me. Dylan squeezed his paw, more than a cat, Sleeper was more like a panther this time, maybe bigger, like a black night, quiet words, surrounded this boy. But I shouldn't be your responsibility either. Sleeper sat up violently. Hey, just hear me out. Dylan cupped his paw and leaned his face up. I know you go to the Life Foundation twice a week to see Liz, I know you take commissions sometimes, I know you can leave anytime you want, but you always stay for me -
Of course I do. Sleeper was frank. It's not surprising that Dylan found out about all this; he's Eddie's kid too, a natural investigative reporter. I'd do anything for you.
I know. Dylan flung himself into his arms. You're the best, bestest brother in the universe, but I want you to know that I'm the same way with you.
You love me. Sleeper hugged him tightly. I've always known that. We are each other's sword and shield, remember? We will be stronger when we are together.
Dylan, it's time for you to go to sleep. Sleeper pulled himself and his brother back to the here and now. Though the memories weren't all warm, there was snow falling outside the window now.
Eight hours of sleep, huh? Dylan dug himself out from between the cushion and the blanket. Of course . Sleeper nodded in agreement. So they went upstairs, still with the goodnight kiss, see, they would live without anyone else.
Postscript:
Dylan opened his eyes, a quarter to seven. You can squint a little longer. Sleeper looked at him unsurprisingly. Nope, Dylan rubbed his face. Sleep again in math class.
Dylan--
Just kidding! Dylan left a kiss with laugh lines on his ear and hopped out of bed quickly.
It's cold on the floor! You can't just go barefoot—Sleeper yelled. Geez that kid better not take one step three steps down the stairs, the kitten who'd been a cushion all night got up in a heap.
I'm going to take a shower!
Put on some shoes! Sleeper reached the bathroom before he did. Otherwise I don't mind being the one who laughs the loudest when you slip.
Of course he wouldn't do that. He'll just dry Dylan's hair when he comes out. Tie it up? Sleeper showed his brother the newly purchased hair band. Did he mention that Dylan's hair had grown long? The ends of them sweep over his collarbone when he inclines head. Yeah. Dylan couldn't wait to get to his oatmeal, so Sleeper gave him a loose little tug. Well, he'd have to work on it, but Dylan was happy with it.
On the way out the door Sleeper adjusted the straps of his book bag, the cuffs of the duffle coat covered Dylan's wrists, Dylan had grown taller, Sleeper was proud of that, he would order a new one, but not now. Because Dylan turned and opened his arms to him, and he had no reason to refuse.
Snow filled the air, hiding into the corners of the world, maybe that's the reason why people got cold in the summer, Dylan walked into the campus, a scarf intertwined with black and green around his neck. Life was this senseless, what left would never come back, but what stayed, would always be there.
End (maybe)