Chapter Text
Sonia Kaspbrak was not a good cook. Her son, Eddie, always noticed that her food left a strange aftertaste on his tongue, and his stomach would be churning all evening. He never mentioned it, for fear of hurting her feelings; his mother was a sensitive woman, with tears pricking the corners of her beady brown eyes more often than not. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her any more pain.
“You’re all that I have left, Eddie,” she would tell him, clutching him to her chest so tightly he thought he might suffocate. “After your father, I can’t lose you too. Promise me that you won’t ever leave me.”
“I promise, mommy,” he would tell her, voice soft and a little scared, although he wasn’t quite sure what he was afraid of.
Dinner the night before had been particularly rough, leaving him almost dizzy and tired, until he awoke the next morning and promptly vomited onto the carpet, tears, and snot running down his face as he retched.
His mother was in the doorway within seconds, gasping and rushing to his side, stroking his hair and whispering comfort to him.
Once the vomiting had passed, he tried to get up and go brush his teeth, unable to stand the acidic taste which burned his tongue, but Sonia pushed him back into bed quite forcefully.
“Let me clean this up, and then I’ll take you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up. You’re too sick to go yourself. You could faint and hit your head on the counter!”
Her words struck panic in him, and he nodded, not daring to open his mouth again for fear that he would puke again.
She returned quickly with cleaning supplies, scrubbing the carpet viciously, the smell of chemicals making Eddie’s head spin.
When she was finished, she helped him to his feet, hands steadying him by the shoulders, and walked him down the hall to their immaculately clean bathroom.
Eddie picked up his toothbrush and squeezed an unnecessary amount of toothpaste on it, desperate to replace the taste that lingered with mint.
“Brush well. You know how sensitive you are to infections, Eddie. If you got gingivitis, you’d probably lose your teeth. I don’t want my sweet boy missing his smile.”
Eddie spat into the sink, saliva stained pink. He’d brushed so forcefully, he’d made his gums bleed. Thankfully, Sonia didn’t notice, too busy staring at the reflection in the mirror: A loving mother and her perfect son.
When Eddie looked too, all he saw was the paleness of his skin and the bloodshot look to his eyes, making him nibble on his lower lip nervously.
“How about you take a nice, hot bath? Maybe it will help break your fever,” his mother suggested.
“Fever?” he replied, voice breaking slightly.
“Yes, fever. Your face is burning hot! I could get the thermometer out if you’d like, but I think it’s got to be at least one hundred—”
Eddie was already heading towards the tub, turning the hot water up all the way.
“Hey, let me draw it for you. Go get yourself a towel from the closet, it’ll be full by the time you get back.”
“B-but what if I faint like you said?”
“I’ll hear you and come running like always,” she assured him, pulling him in to kiss his forehead.
He hesitated before going to grab a towel, inspecting each one to determine which one looked the cleanest before heading back.
The tub was full, and Sonia was kneeling expectantly beside it.
“Thanks, ma,” he said, offering her a wobbly smile.
She didn’t move. “Eddie, dear, you’re not in the state to be in the bath by yourself!”
“I’m too old for you to give me a bath,” he replied, feeling his cheeks flush. He wasn’t a baby. God, if the losers knew about this, they (meaning Richie, mostly) would never let him live it down.
“You’re never too old to let your mom take care of you,” she replied. It should have been a sweet statement, but the way her eyes narrowed and her tone dropped as she said it made Eddie suddenly dizzy again.
Without protesting further, he ducked his head and pulled off his pajamas, and sat in silence as she washed his hair, humming beneath her breath the whole time.
***
“Hello? Oh, hi hun. No, I’m afraid he’s sick. Possibly the stomach flu. I’ll let him know that you called though. Oh, I wouldn’t want you to get sick as well, he’s probably very contagious. You can see him when he’s better. You too, hun. Bye.”
“Who was that on the phone?” Eddie asked, sitting up in bed. He felt better now, despite his empty stomach—the only thing he’d ingested all day was water, unsure he’d be able to hold anything else down.
“No one, sweetie, lay back down.”
Eddie frowned. “It was one of my friends, wasn’t it? Richie?”
Scowling, Sonia nodded.
“Why can’t he come to see me?”
“You’re sick, Eddie! We have no idea what you have, you could be contagious, and you shouldn’t be exposed to more germs if you’re already so ill!”
“But I feel better now,” Eddie insisted. “See?” He stood up from the bed and gave her a nervous smile. He wanted to see his friends. He wanted to see Richie .
“Eddie, sweetheart—”
“Mommy, please? I’ve been home for three days straight, can’t I just—?”
“Am I not good enough for you?” Sonia cried, bluntly, stopping his sentence short as she began to sniffle pitifully. “I’m just trying to take care of you, and you hate me!”
Taken aback, Eddie’s shoulders slumped and his smile faded. “No, mommy, that’s not true. I don’t hate you.”
“All I do is give, and you give me nothing in return!” she wailed.
Tears welled up in Eddie’s own eyes, helplessness holding him in place as he watched his mother cry, unsure of what to do. He wanted to keep fighting, to tell her that he was fine, and tell her that he didn’t want to stay cooped up in their house all summer, never leaving her side. But he knew that would only make it worse. And, as much as he wanted to hate her for her controlling ways, for her overprotectiveness and constant babying, as much as he wanted to kick and scream and fight...She was his mother , and he loved her.
His mother would never hurt him, right?
“I’m sorry, mommy. I didn’t mean to upset you. I can see my friends when I’m better, you’re right. I don’t want to get anyone else sick. How about we go downstairs and listen to the radio together?”
Sonia sniffled, looking up at him with her red, tear-streaked face. “Oh, really? No, I don’t want to force you.”
Eddie forced a smile onto his face. “You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to.”
“Oh, I love you, Eddie-bear.”
“Love you too, mommy.”