Better // Reddie

six

TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic depictions of eating disorders, mentions of PTSD and murder

The next day, Eddie woke up with a pounding headache. He'd finally stumbled back to his room at around three in the morning, the latest he'd been up in forever. While the night before had been fun, it also meant that he slept for about three hours, give or take. Needless to say, he felt like shit.

"Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Stan joked while the two of them brushed their teeth. Eddie had let out a groan, the whirring of Stan's electric toothbrush just aggravating his headache.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I should've gone to sleep earlier." He rolled his eyes, stepping out of the bathroom just as Leslie was poking her head through the door. Eddie was really getting tired of her and her circus-clown-red lipstick.

As he suspected, she took him to get weighed. As he suspected, she was unsatisfied with the number. As she suspected, he didn't really care.

Eddie was just happy to have friends for once. So happy, in fact, that he was able to have a slice of toast at breakfast. A slice of toast that was so loaded with butter and strawberry jam that it was probably illegal. And no one at the table, not one of the Losers, gave him a second look while he did it.

He hadn't had bread in several months. Bread was a big no for him- too many calories, too many carbs, for it to be "worth it". But here he was, eating this slice like it was no big deal. Once he got past the initial fear and dread that settled at the top of his gut, it was nice. It reminded him of when the Kaspbraks were one, big happy family, and they would make a big breakfast together on Sunday mornings.

He saw Leslie looking on proudly from across the dining hall.

The rest of the day went on as normal. He was weirdly energized, despite his lack of sleep the night before. It wasn't the type of energized when he was running purely on diet coke and black coffee and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. It was one that made him feel good, like he could go for a nice jog (not that they would let him- Eddie had been banned from unnecessary physical activity until he reached a "healthy weight", whatever that was. Wasn't he already at one?).

Group therapy was a nonevent, Eddie stayed pretty quiet. They went into some stuff with Bill's brother, and the PTSD he has from it. His little brother. Georgie, had been brutally murdered by an unknown individual, and little twelve year old Bill had been the one to find the body. Bill had been dealing with some gruesome nightmares and a stutter ever since. He'd nearly worked through the stutter, but the nightmares still came in droves.

"I g-guess what bothers me the most is... they never caught who d-did it." Bill had said, eyes cast to the ground. Eddie's heart twinged in pain for him. He was also amazed that Bill was able to open up so easily in front of others. Eddie had never been very good at talking about his feelings.

In his session with Dr. Krynn, he decided he would make an effort today. The others seemed to like her a lot, she was almost like an honorary "Loser" in the group therapy sessions. And today, he was feeling particularly inspired by Bill's act of bravery earlier.

"Would you like to tell me about your mother, Eddie?" She asked, sitting relaxed in her chair.

"I don't like her." Eddie shrugged. Might as well tell the truth, right? He

"Can you elaborate on that for me?"

"She doesn't let me do anything. I wanted to audition for the school play once- we were doing The Music Man- and she told me it was 'too dangerous', whatever the hell that was about." Eddie wasn't sure about Dr. Krynn's policy on swearing, but she hadn't had a problem with Richie's constant swearing in the group sessions, so he figured it was probably fine.