Reddie Oneshots

-37- I'll Take Care of You

I'm sick rn so here u go

"Fucking hell," Eddie whispered, placing the phone back in its place.

"What was that, Eddie-bear?" his mother asked from the kitchen.

"N-nothing, mom..." He paused, before deciding. "I'm going out to, um, the store... To buy some candy, okay?" He made his way to the door, awaiting his mother's response.

"Alright, just not too much, dear. You know how your tummy gets when you eat too much candy," she called from the door to the kitchen. Eddie nodded, putting on his shoes.

"Of course, mommy." He headed for the door, reaching for the handle.

"And don't walk on any freshly-cut grass. Stay away from strangers. Don't forget your inhaler, and if you're still gone by four, don't forget to take your pills." She wiped her hands briefly on her apron, then smoothed it out. Eddie nodded again.

"I understand, mommy." He grabbed his inhaler off the table that stood beside the door, putting it in his fanny-pack and turned the doorknob.

"Forgetting something?" she asked. Eddie sighed, closing his eyes in annoyance. He turned around and walked slowly over to her, standing on his tippy-toes to kiss her fat cheek, then left abruptly.

He walked out to the street, turning right to head to Richie's house. Of course he wasn't going for candy. Richie hadn't picked up the phone at all, and neither of his parents had either. Eddie walked at a fast pace, and didn't take long to reach Richie's house. It looked very empty, and Richie's window was dark. Eddie gulped, walking up to the door. He wondered where Richie could be, but he knocked the door anyways. No answer.

No parents.

No car.

He decided to check and see if Richie was inside, so he crouched down and groped the ground underneath the flower-pot until his fingers grasped the house key. He stood up and stuck it in the door, teeth-up as his mother had always instructed him. He turned the key with slight difficulty, hearing the lock click open and pushing the door open to head inside. He closed the door after himself.

The house was cold, empty. There were a few empty coffee cups and dead cigarette-butts on the counter, probably from Richie's dad, who must have left. There was a half-eaten piece of plain whole wheat bread on a plate, next to one of the mugs of coffee. Richie's mother must have been trying to lose weight.

There was no one in the living room, so Eddie kicked off his shoes and tiptoed awkwardly upstairs, trying to avoid germs. The bathroom door was open, and there was a full bathtub, so he went in to check it out. It looked clear and completely unused, so Eddie cautiously dipped the tip of his finger in it, gulping.

Germs.

The bath was freezing. Unused, and left to get cold.

He shook the water off his fingers, wiping them on his shirt and walking back out. He looked around, seeing every door closed, and he shivered. It really was cold. Were they on some kind of impromptu voyage? He frowned, shaking his head. No. Richie's parents needed to work, even if it was summer vacation. So where was Richie?

"Who's there?" He heard from inside the room at the end of the hall.

Richie.

"I-it's Eddie," he replied, heading over to push the door open softly. This room was hotter than the others, stuffy. It felt like an oven and the germs in the air were almost tangible. Eddie cringed.

"Get out." Richie was lying on his bed, the blankets messy and thrown off his body. His bare back glistened with sweat and Eddie frowned, concerned.