DON'T TREAD ON ME

“I wasn’t ASLEEP!”

No offense is taken. A concealed blink and tug of his scarred grin response enough to hearing the other laugh. Even if so abruptly. Better to have a bit of humor to break any lingering tension.

Gabriel listens with clear interest, full attention on Francis as he speaks, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about his physical appearance. Membrane’s own mutation and mutilations filling in the blanks. Noting the loss of the man’s usual demeanor and confident speech.

A touchy subject.

He wants to prod with various questions. ‘Did your original teeth fall out?’ 'Was the affect to your skin instantaneous or progressive?’ 'Are all changes outward or has your physicality changed as well?’ What colour were his organs? The uses or practically of his serpentine tongue? His mind runs wild with the limitless possibilities, but he quickly reels himself back in.

This was his colleague, and he would like to think his friend.

A prosthetic knee bounces as he mulls it over, setting aside his empty mug. Meeting the man’s eyes, despite his own remaining hidden from view.

“It sounds to me as if you’re suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder or as it was once referred to as, Multiple Personality Disorder.” He speaks honestly, gently as he does with his patients. Though Francis is so much more than that, “It’s possible that your failure and the physical changes you’ve gone through were so traumatic, that you created this ‘alter ego’ as a way to cope and rationalize what you were going through.”

“It’s not uncommon for your alter to be, like a stranger. Or have destructive tendencies, such as self sabotage and self persecution. Amnesia is also quite common. Though every individual is unique.”

“There are treatments, mainly therapeutic, that may help you better manage this condition if it’s what you’re contending with. Sadly despite even my genius, it’s not as simple as finding a cure.”

A pang of shame and self resentment. For what he’d done to Dib, his own failures and how they haunted him. But he shoves it back down, before he can remember how his son wailed and begged when carted off to the asylum. His own ‘treatments’ when they tried to fix what was wrong with him, or his mother’s ‘alternative remedies’.

Gabriel hesitates, but leans forward to rest his gloved hand atop Francis’. It doesn’t change what he’d done, but he can at least try to be better. For Dib, and for his friend. For himself.

“I’m happy you told me this. Whatever it is… If I can help you I will,” He takes a moment, “Francis, I give you my word. You don’t have to face this alone. I’ve got your back.”

If he’d been holding something, it very well might have cracked from the pressure his closed fists are exerting.

It takes every fiber of his being not to slap the hand away in frustration. Membrane was, predictably, trying to help. Though Venomous doubted he could ever actually understand enough to do so. Well, there was one way to make him understand, but he’d rather die before willing Shadow into existence.

are you sure? you’ve come this far, little tattletail~

Steeling his nerves, forcing all his control of that little ink blot back into its cage, he grit sharp teeth and shook his head. No no, he had the wrong idea. Francis himself wasn’t even sure how to explain it. His notes had been destroyed (though he now knew Shadowy was to blame) and he couldn’t for the life of him remember what all he’d done to get like this. All in a lame senseless bid to get his power back. One that had failed.

Sure, he’d made the best of it and he was happier in his own science than he could’ve ever been with POINT, but had it been worth it? A new life, a new bid on purpose, financial stability, a job.... but with such a literal dark side? If their positions had been switched, he would’ve thought the same thing about mental trauma and coping mechanisms. Something like Shadowy didn’t just happen every day, nor to just any man.

“No, no--”

“It’s not -- It’s not that. You don’t understand. It’s... something else. Possession? Body swapping? Hell I don’t know--”

It all sounded like something out of a bad science fiction movie, and his other hand came up to squeeze the prosthetic one. It wasn’t like he could possibly hurt him, anyway. Shadowy might, but Shadowy was on a tight leash. If Francis let up for even a second, he was sure it would end in disaster.

“I’ve got no idea what you’d technically call it, but he isn’t me. He’s something I made, but he’s not just in my head. I’m telling you, Gabriel, he’s not like anything I’ve seen before. He’s physical, he’s dangerous, he’s--”

better not get TOO chatty, fran. I might get antsy and come play anyway.

Purple energy crackled at the lights overhead, though if one wasn’t watching it was easily missed.

just. finally answering them all at once.

“yes. progressive. mainly outward, but both. hopefully the same color they’ve always been. it’s immune to venom and has assisted with smells. THERE.”

‘Can solve everyone’s problems but your own’

As a single father… How true that is.

He can fix anything and anyone, find any solution once thought impossible. Make miracles and fantasy become his own reality. Why did the world need god, when it had Gabriel Membrane? A lot of good that did him when it came to the matters of his own broken family. Progress with his children was slow. Like beating one’s fists against stone, till torn flesh exposed bone and gave way to infection.

No easy way to right the wrongs done foolishly in the name of ‘the greater good’.

And unlike his battle against his own wretched anatomy, the limitations of a mortal body, he just couldn’t give up on his kids. He wasn’t his father.

“Have you tried yoga? Or some, recreational drugs? Helped me when I was doing the kid’s show. I can write you a prescription. Zero possibility of addiction or side affects, though you may notice an increased appetite and cravings for starfish of all things… Or you can do physical training. Work off that energy.”

Like Membrane has any right to talk about anger management.

There’s a reason everyone has to sign an NDA and forfeit their rights to the company if they want to get close to him. Imagine to protect, avoiding lawsuits, all that.

“But if I may ask, one man of science to another, what exactly- Are you trying to cure?”

The idea of possibly doing yoga on prescription drugs snaps Venomous out of his stump, bursting out a sharp bark of laughter. He hadn’t meant it to be rude, but the suggestion had caught him off guard. He might have to take Gabriel up on his offer, if only to try things he hadn’t.

“Sorry, I-- Sorry. I hadn’t considered that. But when I say I’ve tried everything else, I’ve tried everything else.”

Both with his own anger issues and said cure.

“The temper is easier than... It’s a long story.”

And an embarrassing one.

“To cut it short, I was young and impulsive, naive to think I could fail. But I did, and after using myself as a test subject, no less. The side effects, among sharper teeth and purple scales, were to say... Undesirable. I could deal with this.”

get to the point, francis. don’t be a coward. maybe membrane can help. 

“I still don’t know what I did to create him, but the best way to describe it is ‘alter ego’.”

The same results, the same disappointments. It seemed the two scientists were at the same standstill. Unable to move forward in a meaningful way, but refusing to stop trying. Possibly driving themselves insane from it as well.

“All but one are working out. I’ve had a hard time focusing on anything but a cure and I’m not even sure it’ll work. Not that I’ve had much progress in the first place.”

If Shadow had anything to say about it, anyway. Poetic that it was his own fault he was in the mess couldn’t get out of in the first place.

“Taking it one day at a time, I suppose. Sad to hear you’re at a similar roadblock. Frustrating, isn’t it? Can solve everyone’s problems but your own.”

“It’s enough to want to break something.”

Venomous inwardly cringed, remembering his days like that. POINT had been... an event, if anything.

“I suppose I have seen you running around after him. Or, running around after a blue blur, rather.”

“Do you ever get tired of following in someone else’s footsteps, kid? Can’t imagine side kickin’ is any fun.”

“I would hope you would, but wouldn’t expect anything to come of it if I were you.”

“I’m not exactly the kind of man someone would want to save.”