Six Feet Under : Reddie

Part 7

Well, I say it's about time for shit to hit the fan, yeah?

Eddie sat at the dinner, or breakfast considering the time of day, table across from his rhinoceros of a mother.

"Eddie Bear? How have you been?" She asked, as though she was making conversation with a total stranger. Cold.

Eddie had grown used to it, as it used to cause him great pain, but he slowly realized it was better this way, better than getting pills shoved down his throat and insulting words filling his young ears.

He grew up, realising he didn't need his mother to be a mother, just provide him the necessary resourses for his own survival.

"I've been fine." He replied, his voice just as icy as her Sonia's.

Eddie moved his eggs around the plate, his mind drifting to think of the tall teen in glasses.

They hadn't heard from him in three days, and it had Eddie worried. They'd seen him last at the Quarry on Sunday, and hadn't seen him since. Not even in the halls of hell.

A few hours later Eddie lay on his back, staring up at his ceiling in silence, his eyes drooping, close to sleep.

"EDDIE!"

He jumped up to see Beverly, tear tracks down her cheeks as she slammed open the door.

"Bev? What's wrong?" He asked, slowly standing.

"I-It's Richie." She whimpered, her eyes widened with terror and immense pain.

Eddie had never moved so fast in his life as he and Beverly drove to the hospital with the rest of the Losers'.

∆°∆°∆

Tuesday morning, two days after the Quarry, Richie woke with a pounding head ache.

He stood slowly, he felt like he was floating. Without a word he moved, wincing as he felt pain shoot up his most likely bruised back.

But that's not what scared him, what scared him was the fuzziness of the room and the hazy throb in his head.

He reached his hand back to gently touch the tender area. His head erupted with agony, and Richie stumbled, looking down at his blood red fingers.

"Oh fuck." He hissed, clinging to the chilling steel table for support.

"Do you need any help, love?" A voice asked, and more a moment Richie thought it might just be in his head.

But, alas, Richie was not so lucky.

He turned to hazily see blond curls and a male body walk toward him, taking his head in his hands.

"Oh, Richie, will you ever learn?" He whispered softly, kissing the corner of Richie's currently chapped lips.

Richie jerked, only to stumble back into the counter, his arms weakly braising his already weak body.

He felt the man grab his shirt before slamming his fist into Richie's mouth, cutting his lip.

Groaning, Richie pushed him backwards with much effort. "Fuck off, Victor.." He said before coughing violently, beginning to feel the back of his neck become warm and wet with the crimson waterfall that poured from his skull through his now matted hair.

He felt Victor grab his shoulders before sending a knee into his stomach, causing Richie to double over in a mad coughing fit, his black blood soaked hair flopping in front of his dark chocolate eyes.

Victor smirked wildly, guiding the other male to the floor before staffing his waist.

"You shouldn't have done what you did, Rich." He said, beginning to unbutton Richie's Hawaiian shirt, "But, part of me is glad you did." He whispered beside his ear, slipping his hands up Richie's heaving chest.