Eddie Oneshots (It)

problems

requested by: no one

pairing: streddie
stan, richie, and eddie
(already dating)
(sorry i just love this ship)

a/f: it gets really angsty. better at the end.

trigger warning:
panic attacks, self harm, self hate?

date: june 22 2020

summary:
eddie has a bad panic attack when his mom texts him after years of no communication.

~~~

eddie stared down at his phone. he had just received a message from his mom. the last time they talked was when he was eighteen, now he's twenty one.
the message had something along the lines of,"you're unloved. no one cares about you." and other stuff.

he could feel his breathing start to pick up and become uneven. eddie would be at work right now, but he called in sick because he didn't feel good. he saw the time and realized that stan was on his lunch break.

he got on his phone and saw stans contact name, his finger hovered over it for a second before pressing it. he brought it up to his ear and waited for stan to pick up.

"hey babe what's up?" he heard stan.
"hey stan," he said out of breath, "how are you?"
"im good. how are you?"
"i'm uh, i'm fine," he said unsure.
"okay, well look. we both have to get to work so i'll see you at home later. was there something you needed?"
"right yeah, you're right. sorry no i'm fine. thanks, bye," he quickly hung up starting to feel bad for bothering him.

he began pacing around the room until he heard his phone ring. he picked it up and saw stan calling.

he wasted no time answering, "hey what's up?"
"nothing. what's wrong eddie?"
eddie froze, he didn't want to tell them that his mom texted him.
"uh nothing's wrong."

"eddie really what's wrong? did you have a panic attack?"
"yeah a little one. i'm fine now."
"are you at work?"
"no, i took off today. i don't feel good."

"do you feel sick?" stan asked worried.
"no not sick. more like, i don't know. i don't feel good mentally," eddie let out a breath.

"you're not gonna relapse are you?"
eddie knew he wanted to. he really wanted to but he couldn't worry stan, "no not at all. i'm fine though. get back to your work. i love you, see you later," he said hanging up.

he thought he sounded convincing enough that they wouldn't check his arms. so with that thought he went into his bathroom.

his boyfriends had taken all the razors away at first, but it's been a year since he last self harmed. they trusted him enough. so he got out a razor and looked at himself in the mirror.

"you're not worth it"

he heard a voice in his head.

"they don't love you"

he knew it was telling the truth.
so he brought the razor down to his arm. his old scars fading more and more so they could barely be seen.

he cut once, then twice, until he had at least 10. they weren't to deep, but they bled.

he cleaned up his arm and around him. he felt better. like a weight on his shoulder was lifted off. to pass time he cleaned a little bit and watched tv.