THICK & THIN ✿ reddie

work song.

Richie wakes up in the hospital and cringes. His manager is going to kill him.

Well, I really went and fucked up this time, he thinks bitterly.

He slowly opens his eyes and tries to sit up, but a small hand on his chest stops him.

"Richie, take it easy," Eddie says softly.

Richie gasps slightly. "What are you doing here, Eds? I just put you through hell again," he murmurs.

Eddie sighs. "The things we do for people we love," he laments.

Richie shakes his head furiously. "No, no, no, all I do is fucking hurt you!"

"Richie!" Eddie protests as he begins ripping needles out of his arms and moving to stand.

Richie ignores him, moving towards a nearby table on where he spots his belongings.

"Richie, you can't leave! You have to go through detox," Eddie says, following after him as he opens the hospital door.

"The only thing I have to do is take more next time," he whispers harshly.

"No! You're not doing this anymore, Richie!" he yells.

Richie scoffs and presses the elevator button, leaning heavily against the wall. "Yeah? Who's gonna stop me?"

Eddie looks like he's about to punch him in the face, and honestly Richie deserves it. "Me! I'm doing what I should've fucking done before. I'm gonna make you get your fucking shit together, Rich," he says fiercely.

Richie groans. "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone? You're gonna get yourself hurt."

Eddie follows him into the elevator. "Because unfortunately for me, I still love you, asshole. I'm not dealing with your bullshit anymore. I'm gonna put my everything into getting you better this time and I swear to fucking god if you don't try too—" He stops, voice cracking with emotion.

Richie's hands are shaking. He's entirely too sober for this conversation. "How can you ever forgive me? I'm in way too deep."

"No, you're not, you're gonna grow the fuck up and take care of yourself. You think I haven't wanted to end it?" he snaps. "I still fucking do sometimes, I will never fucking be the same, but you know what I don't do? Throw my whole life away."

Richie keeps his mouth shut because he can't argue. He has been throwing his life away.

The elevator opens and Eddie exits, but not before grabbing his wrist and dragging him along. "C'mon, dipshit, we need to go to the store."

"The store?"

"We're out of food and just about everything else and you're detoxing one way or another, even if I have to lock you in an apartment for the next week," he says firmly.

Richie sighs. "Eddie, I'm a fucking heroin addict, that's gonna be hell for both of us," he points out.

He's already craving another high.

Eddie tightens his grip on Richie's hand. "Well, you refused help at the hospital so you've left me no choice," he grumbles.

Richie frowns. "Well, that's because I was planning to go shoot up again. I just tried to off myself, not exactly at the willing-to-accept-help stage yet," he admits.

Eddie looks genuinely pained. "Well, too bad," he says, pulling Richie into a Target. "Get ready for sobriety."

Richie's heart hurts at his determination. He can't stand being the one to crush his spirits.