You'll Never Be Alone [mpreg|sequel]

xxii

The feeling that something is wrong, that gut wrenching feeling of a premonition or an omen has only managed to grow worse as the minutes pass by.  He's restless and aching and something is just not right.  He paces back and forth before he just can't stay cooped up in his room anymore.

Without hesitance, he slips on his moccasins and grabs a light sweater before escaping his room and the house all together.  He doesn't know where he's going, he simply follows his instincts and allows his feet to carry him.  There's only one thought in his mind.

Only one name that resides within him.

Riot.

He looses track of time, but he knows he's been walking for an hour, probably even more if he really thinks about it.  His legs hurt with every step he continues to take, muscles straining and aching only worsening with the added baby weight settled on his hips.

Eventually he turns down the length of a long dark alleyway.  The buildings seem to make it narrow the further he walks.  His steps echo as trickles of water run through dirty gutters and spill onto the pavement.

The stench of piled garbage makes him gag, but he continues until he reaches the end of the alleyway where he's forced to stop.  Like the steps leading to an underground subway station, he can count six.  There are rusting railings on either sides as they go down.  Unlike the subway though, there is a door at the end.  Sea blue paint cracked and peeling, sealed shut.

He pauses, hand brushing the underside of his belly as his baby twists and settles.  He fights the urge to take a deep breath just as he descends, nearly missing a step he didn't account for. He holds on fast to the railing and pants from the shock before gathering his diminishing strength and reaching for the handle.

The metal is cool to the touch and he briefly hesitates.

What is he doing?

He's not even sure he's still in San Francisco anymore.

He turns the knob and creeps inside regardless. 

He was never one to ignore the red flags of fight or flight, but there's a tug stronger than his being beckoning him.

The door shuts with finality behind him and there's no turning back.

The hall is long and the floor is tiled white, similar to that of a hospital.  The lights overhead flicker and he frowns as he continues with slow yet steady steps.

He hears voices just as he reaches the end and the hall branches out into two directions.

Screams.

Pain.

"Riot," he breathes.

Without thinking he runs toward the sound, toward people talking while someone, something, is writhing and screaming in what sounds to be pure agony.

"Riot!" The name is out before he can process where he is.

There are people.  Five to be exact, all wearing white coats and pressed close as they look into a room surrounded in glass.  They turn to stare at him in surprise.

That's when he notices what they were all so intently focus on.

A woman strapped to the table.

Two men within who have also turned in his direction.

And Riot.

His lover.

His mate.

His symbiote, curled and immobile in what appears to be an enclosed NICU incubator.

His belly twists at the sight and he rests his hand there, trying to soothe the baby as they react to his adrenaline and horrified fear.

The movement is enough to draw everyone's attention to his swollen belly.

"Hybrid! Grab him!"

He hears the command, but he can't seem to process it.

His heart is beating too loudly in his chest and there's ringing in his ears.

His eyes widening when he sees the man closest to the woman get his neck snapped before a sharp aqua blue tentacle is pierced the other's chest.

Just as someone makes to grab him, a shout orders him to duck.

He listens.

He recognizes that voice.

He scrambles around and finds Venom.

The black symbiote is like an armor surrounding Eddy as they attack to no avail.

Venom simply takes the feeble hits before unhinging their jaw and biting someone's head off.

The spurt of blood is a geyser.

Splatters land on Dan and cover his skin.

Dan. 

Weak... tired... dying.

He turns. He tries to open the door but it's security access only.  He stares at the scanner.  Passcode or palmprint.

He looks around and finds a discarded arm.

He's running on adrenaline.

Riot. He needs to get to Riot damnit!

He picks up the slippery arm and feels tears threaten to fall as he attempts to scan the hand but fails.  There's too much blood.

A sob of frustration escapes him, especially when the light blue symbiote on the other side of the enclosure tries to open the door with its own brute force and fails.

"Please," he begs silently, "please, please, please."

He wipes the hand on the side of his sweats and finally the blinking red light turns green!

The doors slide open and he barrels inside, "Riot!"

The symbiote is shrunken in on itself, it's slow and lethargic and not responding even as he shoves his hand inside the incubator and reaches out to him.

The symbiote barely manages to curl around his fingers before collapsing in on itself again.

"No," Dan whimpers, "no, no, no!  Common! Please!

He collapses onto his knees, forehead pressed against the incubator as tears stain his scruffy cheeks.

Venom approaches then and lifts the heavy top off the incubator.  Dan stands back up with his help and he scoops up the dying symbiote into his arms, cradling it close as tears drip down his chin and onto the glob.

"Come on, parasite," he whispers softly, adoringly, please.

The lethargic movement comes to a complete stop and a gut wrenching sob escapes his lip.  This time he falls to his knees and refuses to get up.  He shuts his eyes tightly closed and cries, sobs, mourns.