An Inhaler Isn't Needed

Chapter 11

Richie walked back to his house with Bill, Stan, and Mike after going to get an amount of medicine that he thought could supply an entire hospital wing.

Richie watched Stan and Mike talk together, while Bill was playing with a Rubix cube, probably trying to distract himself.

It was when Stan started to laugh at something Mike had said that Richie blurted out what had been on his mind, “So, guys, why did Eds’ mom give him all this crap?”

They looked at him for a moment with hard expressions, before they all looked away, seemingly at once.

Bill spoke, still fidgeting with his cube, “E-Eddie’s m-mom was…” Bill licked his lips, trying to find the right word.

“Overprotective,” Stanley finished for him, “She thought if he took a bunch of medication, he’d magically be protected from everything.”

Richie tilted his head, not quite understanding, “Well, I mean, all parents are a bit protective, right? I just don’t get-”

Bill’s lip was shaking a little, “N-None of u-us understand it, R-R-Richie. P-Puh-Parents never l-let kids understand wh-what they’re d-doing.”

Richie dropped the topic at seeing him so upset. Instead, he just started cracking jokes about Stanley’s Ramen noodle hair and Henry Bowers’ mullet.

They raced up the stairs to Richie’s room, hoping to not catch Richie’s parents’ attention with all the clattering pill bottles they’d stuffed in their bags.

When Richie opened the door to his room, (he noticed there was absolutely no struggle to open it anymore), he saw Eddie having his face squished by Beverly, who was wearing a waaaay oversized floral-patterened dress and a pair of bifocals on the edge of her nose.

Stan’s sarcastic mouth was the first one to ask just what they were doing.

Beverly imitated an older woman by dropping her voice, “I’m just squishing my Eddie bear’s face! Look at my son. So precious.”

Ben grinned, “Apparently, Eddie bear hid away an old dress of his mother’s.”

Richie laughed, “And, what about those specs?” He paused, “Eddie bear?”

“If one more person calls me that, I swear I’m going to hide in the attic for a decade.” Eddie huffed, “And the bifocals are mine.”

Richie’s grin stretched until it practically filled his entire face. He crossed the room and pinched Eddie’s cheeks, “Cute, cute, cute!”

Eddie looked both mortified and gleeful at the same time, “Don’t do that!”

Richie pulled him into a hug, which still felt weird, like he was hugging a gentle mist that was raining just over him. It felt real, enough though Eddie’s form was still practically air. Still somehow warm.

Richie shook his head, pulling away and putting his hands on his hips, “Right-o! Let’s get to it, shall we?”

Stanley and Bill dumped out the contents of their bags, medicine spilling all over the floor. Mike was carrying a couple of inhalers. Richie brought snacks for them to eat, “I mean, it’s not necessary, but I like to eat,” he’d backed his decision up in the pharmacy.

Eddie closed his eyes, taking a moment to remember his dying scene as best as he could, and directed the others where to place various things. “Bev, go outside the door until, um, you feel like coming in and, um, I’ll be here. You tell me to take my meds, I do, and then…” Eddie stopped talking abruptly, “I can’t remember after that.”

Ben cleared his throat, speaking so quietly it was hard to hear him from two feet away, “Um, the book says i-if you can’t remember, that’s the actual, the actual death.”

Eddie nodded, “That makes sense.”

Richie glanced at him not too subtly, seeing a few lines on Eddie’s forehead and underneath his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He looked so tired.

Ben read out some weird foreign language from his book, fumbling over the alien words.

Richie’s eyes could’ve filled his entire face when he saw Eddie; he looked like he was in agony. His body was almost glowing, quite literally. If he had a halo, Richie would’ve thought him to be an angel. Though, he was started to think that to be the truth, anyway…

Richie shook his head at the thought, and focused on Eddie again. He still looked like he was in pain. In fact, he was holding onto his right arm and scrunching up his nose again. The lines under his eyes seemed to deepen.

Richie’s heart felt like it was aching. He hated to see his friends hurt, and for whatever the reason, it hurt worse to see Eddie like this. He didn’t realize he’d moved closer to Eddie before he felt Bill’s hand on his arm. He stopped, and took a step backward.

Beverly poked her head into the room, biting her lip nervously, then straightening her back and entering the room. “Eddie, honey?” She spoke with a bit of a quiver in her voice, but tried to hold on to her character as best as she could.

Eddie seemed to be somewhere else; he seemed to be in the past. He looked up at her, though his eyes were glazed over. Richie shivered.

Beverly’s hands were shaking as she took out the bottles of medicine Eddie had instructed her to give him. “It’s, uh, it’s time to take your pills, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded numbly, still gripping his right arm, which was bent at an odd angle. His thin fingers picked up the seemingly endless number of pills and, one-by-one, they were ingested, as they would’ve been on that day, and who knows how many days prior to that.

Eddie started to cough. Hard. He brought his hand up to his mouth so sudden that it made a smacking noise.

Richie winced as Eddie’s small chest started to heave. He saw Beverly backing up; the bag she’d used to carry all that medicine to him in fell out of her hand with a thud.

Stan was covering his eyes, his shoulders hunched up in a defensive state. He wasn’t the only purely uncomfortable one. Mike had an antsy expression on his face and Bill looked like he was going to throw up.

Eddie stopped coughing. The silence might have been more terrifying that the coughing itself.

There was a silvery-gold blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

All movement, all sound, all breathing, seemed to stop.

Richie’s heart was pounding, about to burst completely out of his chest.

He quietly whispered to himself, “C’mon, Eds. C’mon. C’mon!”

The six of them waited in thoughtful silence, until, finally, a small cough was heard.

Eddie blinked, and Richie felt his heart rise from the pit it had sunk into again, and burst with a warm kind of feeling.

Then, it sunk again.

Eddie’s eyes were filled with tears, and they only poured harder down his cheeks. One slid down his nose and dripped onto his arm, the arm that he had been holding earlier.

Richie cupped Eddie’s cheeks, “Eds?” Out of the corner of his eye, Richie saw Bill sit by Eddie and start to comfort him, as well.

Eddie just smiled through his tears, “I just...I-I figured it out. What kept me here.” He met Richie’s eyes.

Stan raised his eyebrows, “Well?”

Eddie’s voice was somehow steady despite his emotional state, “My mom. She...Those pills...They weren’t medicine...It wasn’t an accident.” Eddie stood up, and looked at the door, advancing toward it, about to be able to leave through it, “My mom meant to kill me.”