Chapter Text
It's a chilly morning in November and as Eddward (or Double D, as his friends tended to call him,) buttons his coat and retrieves his scarf from the coat-closet, he glances out the window across the way to the pink house- his neighbor and best friend, Eddy.
He adjusts his scarf and as he goes to open the front door he can hear shouting coming from inside. The house seems to shake in its very timbre as the family yells.
"Oh dear," Edd mutters to himself, not ready for a morning with a crabby Eddy, very much hoping they could make up before Eddy had to leave for school.
No such luck, and Eddy comes crashing out of his house with his backpack slung over one shoulder, blue hair pushed up in a very disorderly manner. Eddy's face is scrunched up in a scowl, and Edd hesitates to give his usual, "Good morning, Eddy," as it clearly wasn't.
"Eddy," He starts, quietly, and as soon as he does, the shorter teen throws his hands up in the air and begins shouting.
"It ain't like it's my fault! They're always all like, oh, but we don't want you to end up like your brother, as if I had anything to do with that! And what's that even have to do with anything! Just cause I suck at school doesn't mean I'm gonna go around terrorizing little kids, and I sure as hell ain't becoming a carnie!" He lets out a trademark growl and Edd hazards a look over at him.
"Are you-"
"And where do they get off tellin' me I ain't smart, huh? I'm plenty smart! I just don't 'apply myself'," Eddy shouts. "That's what all those stupid teachers say, right? 'Eddy could be great if he didn't fucking suck!"
Edd glares at him.
"Children live on this road, Eddy, contain yourself."
"What children?" Eddy asks in his usual swagger. "We're all teenagers now! I guess except for Jimmy and Sarah, but it ain't like they haven't heard everything before."
He begins to grin as they reach the bus stop, Jimmy and Sarah conversing about some magazine Sarah's holding.
"Hey Sarah!" Eddy shouts, ready for a fight. "You've heard the fuck word, right?"
"Eddy!" Edd admonishes. "Please try and be civil today?"
"What's so different about today?" Eddy asks, giving him a strange look. "It's another stupid day of school."
Sarah sends him a glare.
"Shut your fat mouth, fathead. Me 'n Jimmy don't wanna even hear it today."
"What's today?!" Eddy asks, thoroughly confused.
"Eddy, didn't I tell you already?" Edd gives him a look and Eddy meets it with a blank stare. Typical of him, really. Edd shouldn't be surprised or annoyed at this point. "They're sending in a guidance counselor today to have a look at all the classes, you remember. See if there are any students in need of help. That's why we're all to be on best behavior today."
"That quack?" Eddy asks snidely. "He wouldn't know screwed up if it hit him right in the head." For effect, he whacks the back of Edd's head a little too hard, and Edd falls forward, scrambling to maintain some semblance of balance and poise.
"Yes, well." He adjusts his hat. "He'll be touring the school, anyway."
If anything, Edd thinks, a little therapy might be beneficial to Eddy. All that trauma surrounding his brother hasn't just gone away. But if he knows his friend, (and he does, thoroughly,) Eddy won't put up with any kind of psychiatrist or counselor whatsoever, deeming them 'useless' and 'great money-making schemes' and 'hacks'. Edd can't imagine he'd be very willing to open up to any old social worker. He's hardly opened up to Edd, and Edd has known him for twelve years now. But perhaps… perhaps it could happen. He can only hope the counselor notes Eddy as a subject of interest, for Eddy's own sake.
"Well, maybe he'll pick you to be his next victim," Eddy offers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans as the bus pulls up to the stop. The kids of the neighborhood pile on, save for Ed, who's been, surprisingly, leaving for school early the past month in order to help with the drama sets in the auditorium. Edd's come by to watch him paint after school, as well, and finds it lovely that Ed's found something productive he can do with his skill. As long as he stays on topic. (He has a tendency to veer into the supernatural if left to his own devices.)
Edd misses the cheerful air that Ed always brought in the mornings. Eddy's usually at least a little grumpy, because he's not at all a morning person, but this morning seems worse than others.
Thinking back to Eddy's last comment, Edd processes what he meant.
"What do you mean, me?" He asks. "There's nothing wrong with me . In fact, I'd say grade-wise and taking intelligence into account, I'm above the curve if pitted with most of my classmates."
He doesn't mean it as a snub. It's just true.
Eddy slides into the window seat and Edd finds his place next to him, setting his messenger bag in his lap.
"Yeah, okay, you're smart," Eddy says teasingly. "But you're also all…" He makes a gesture with his hands, one Edd doesn't understand.
"What's that supposed to mean, Eddy?" He narrows his eyes. "There isn't anything wrong with my brain."
Eddy gives him a slightly mocking laugh.
"You're all like, extreme-neat. You can't leave the house without double-checking everything, you've got that whole label thing going,"
"There's nothing wrong with that!" Edd says defensively. "A scientific environment should have things labeled!"
"Yeah, but when you come over to my house?" Eddy shoots back. "You didn't use to do that. Now I have to peel off stupid stickers every time you stay the night."
"And I apologize for that," Edd says tersely, "But that doesn't mean I need a therapist. "
Eddy shrugs and turns to look out the window, and Edd finds it infuriating that he's so nonchalant now, when only moments ago he was caught in a rage.
There's another beat of silence.
"I suppose it isn't as though I haven't pondered whether there might be certain attributes to my character that may be credited to some form of... disorder of some kind, but honestly, Eddy! Me? A psychiatric care patient?" He laughs but it sounds in his own ears worried and not at all confident in his own mental stability.
"And," Eddy holds a finger up in front of his face. "You get stuck on things."
Edd shoves his hand away, thoroughly miffed.
"I do not 'get stuck on things.' I was merely proving my own point. We were having a discussion. And if we were to converse about that, I hardly think you should be the one to talk, Eddy, because you'll fixate on one individual business proposition for hours and hours at a time."
He really doesn't mean for it to come out as rude as it does, it just happens, and he hopes Eddy doesn't take it that way.
To his mild relief and then annoyance, Eddy just shrugs again.
"Guess we're both fucked up then."
"Eddy!"
The bus circles into the parking lot loop, stopping at the front of Peach Creek High. As the kids get off, Edd notices them stepping into their little cliques, beginning to gossip amongst one another outside the school.
"I hate it here," Eddy grumbles. His arms are folded over his chest, a very defensive position if Edd's ever seen one. "Can't wait until we graduate."
They walk into the building as the doors open, and begin their journey across tiled floors.
"You don't mean that," Edd says, adjusting his shoulder bag. "Peach Creek High is a wonderful siphon of information, oh, the things I've learned here, countless in number, the resources this school has provided us with!"
Eddy gives him a look.
"We live in a hick town and we go to a hick high-school. What resources? The eight hundred-year-old computers?"
"The stimulation of the mind, Eddy!"
Eddy laughs to himself, quietly, and Edd feels a pang of- of something. He's overjoyed Eddy's feeling better about this morning, or maybe it's just been forgotten. Either way, Edd's pleased. He decides to take it one step further; and whether he actually believes the things he's spouting about this school is anyone's guess.
"Why, even the after-school activities are intriguing enough for a plethora of students to attend them, and if you take into account the multitude of different advantages those offer to students of all caliber,"
Eddy reaches over and shuts his mouth.
"Didja know that." He leans his face close to Edd's and whispers jokingly. "You're a nerd?"
"You may use whatever term you like, but I maintain that this school has exceptional qualities yet."
"Yeah, like the upstairs bathrooms. Exceptional at smelling bad."
"That's not what I meant."
They walk down and take a left, and then another left, and then they're at the theater. Edd stops at the stage door and takes his handkerchief out, rubs the door-knob one time, and then goes to open it when Eddy stops him.
"Like that! Like that. What was that? You do that all the time."
"It's- I was cleaning the door handle."
"It's already clean. Janitor cleans here last before people get here. You know that?" Eddy says. "I know you do."
Edd nervously tries to find something to do with his hands. Is Eddy seriously suggesting- that there might be something wrong with him?
"There's nothing wrong with a second time cleaning," He says defensively. "Perhaps it's a safety precaution."
"For the three germs the janitor forgot?" Eddy says incredulously.
Their bickering is cut off, however, when the door opens again and out steps Ed, overjoyed to see them.
"Hullo hullo, my fine friends!"
"Goodmorning, Ed!" Edd says jovially, prior irritants thrown to the wayside.
Said irritant pipes up with a "Heya, lummox. I got you a juice box."
The fact that Eddy thought about it in advance, even with the argument he was having in his home this morning, warms Edd's heart to its core.
Ed smiles widely as well.
"Gee, Eddy, thanks!"
"No problem. Me and sockhead are gonna go do my math homework, okay? We'll catch you at lunch."
"Alrighty-roo, captain doily!" Ed says happily, and then trips back into the theater, possibly spilling his juice box in the process. Edd has half a mind to go and check on him, but Eddy steers him away.
"He's a big boy," Eddy says tiredly. "He can handle himself."
They both know that isn't quite true.
"Did you say we're doing your math homework? Eddy, you have math in... thirty minutes! Good lord! We'll have to start straight-away."
"Gosh, I bet we will," Eddy says sarcastically, plopping himself down outside one of the main classrooms.
Edd hovers for a second too long and Eddy stares up at him with a bored, almost an I-knew-this-was-going-to-happen look.
"It's just the floor." He says. "You were goin' on and on about the 'preteen waxed floors' a couple of days ago."
Edd, logically, understands that there's nothing wrong with sitting there. He also knows he's stuck to the spot he's in now, unable to even conjure up the words about why his own brain has suddenly betrayed him with illogical behavior.
"It's 'pristine,' Eddy," He mumbles.
And oh, dear, now that Eddy's pointed it out, he can't help but see exactly what he's talking about.
"C'mon," Eddy says. "It ain't gonna kill you."
Edd, determined to not seem completely off his own rocker, decides to push forward and sit quickly down before he can back out of it.
"Sticky, sticky, sticky," He mutters anxiously.
Eddy grabs at his arm and sticks a math problem in his face.
"How do I do this one?"
Faced with the task of solving mathematical equations, Edd's able to shove the germ-infested floor fears to the back of his mind. He's able to focus on something else, explaining functions to Eddy, who is most definitely not retaining or paying attention to any of it.
"You just find F of X, Eddy. See?"
"Oh yeah, fx. I gotcha."
"No, the X is the thing you replace... here, let's do the next one and see if you understand that one better."
He's sitting in the newly instated Peach Creek High Counselor's Office. Listening to the clock tick. Counting off the clock ticks. Tapping his fingers nervously, twice for every second click, four times for every time it rounds a half a minute, and eight times when it hits a full minute.
The door finally, finally opens. A semi-short man with a colored bow-tie steps into the room softly.
"Hello, Eddward. I'm the new guidance counselor here at Peach Creek High, and this isn't a test and I'm not trying to trick you. We're just gonna talk, go over some of your history, and then you can head back to class."
Edd assumes he's done this with most of the grade thus far, so he clasps his hands together and prepares to go into full suck-up mode, as Eddy would refer to it.
"Of course! You may ask me anything you please, Mr..."
"Doctor Moncado," The doctor responds easily.
"Oh! My apologies, we don't have very many doctorates around here!" Edd laughs nervously. He digs his nails into the palm of his hand and looks around the room. It's a new add-on, Peach Creek seems to have finally taken a singular step towards the betterment of mental health, a small cream-colored room near the nurse's office.
"Well, I'm a psychiatrist."
"Of course! I should have assumed, seeing as how you're here, I'm sure Peach Creek High would have instated the best and finest, certainly not some counselor who hasn't taken the required courses of study," Edd babbles. He's talking too much. The man hasn't even asked a question yet.
But the doctor chuckles, even though Edd hadn't been making a joke.
"I'm sure. You think highly of your school?"
That stops Edd short for a solid three seconds before he finds himself again.
"Why, of course! I think highly of any learning establishment." Eddy's words come floating back to him, his comments about it being a 'hick high-school' and the admittedly aging computer systems.
The doctor's quiet for a bit and Edd feels like he absolutely has to fill this negative space with something or he'll just about burst.
"Of course there are facilities that are always capable of improving, but I'm sure the staff here at Peach Creek High only have the best of intentions for the futures of their students." He resists the urge to tap his fingers, putting all that nervous energy into speaking again.
"Pardon me, Doctor, but seeing as we do have limited time, I have to ask, why haven't you asked me any relevant questions? Isn't the point of a school psychiatrist to ascertain details about the mental health of the students?"
Doctor Moncado gives him a little smile.
"The interesting thing about people..." He notes something down on his pad of paper and Edd is immediately more uneased. "Is that you can learn a lot about them in the things they don't say."
Edd sits on his hands so as not to wring them.
"I'd like to meet every Thursday at eleven, Eddward. Would that be alright with you?"
"But I'm not ill, " Edd says before he can stop himself.
"Therapy isn't just for the mentally damaged, Eddward. It can be beneficial to anyone. But I'd like to see you a little more. Let's call it a science experiment."
"Oh. Alright," Edd says, in no position to disregard authority figures, ever.
He leaves with his bookbag and then stands in the boys bathroom and counts every single ceiling tile, just to calm himself down.
"Yeah, he said the same thing to me except for Fridays," Eddy complains. "Fuckin' quacks. Ruining my Friday with the psycho-show."
"You're meeting weekly as well?" Edd asks quietly as they walk home from school. Ed's carrying a set-piece above his head that looks far too large for one individual to carry, but they all know the strength of the taller boy is unparalleled. Eddy's walking underneath it, swearing loudly when it occasionally hits his head.
"Jus' sounds like detention but they poke your brain," Eddy says. "You have to stay after too?"
"Er- no, I meet at 11."
"What?" Eddy yells. "You get to skip class?" He wheels on Edd and yanks his collar down in what's usually an attempt to be threatening, but Edd's had to deal with this far too many times for him to even be phased at this point.
"Eddy, I'm not the one with the 2.4 GPA."
"Lucky feller," Ed comments from behind them.
"Ed, you're doing surprisingly well this semester!" Edd congratulates him. "I knew you were capable of great things."
Eddy glares at him.
"So just how exactly is Ed getting a higher grade than me? "
"Perhaps it has to do with the amount of effort being put in, Eddy, " Edd snarks back.
"I put effort in fine! You did all my math homework this morning, didn't you?"
Ed whacks Eddy with the piece of painted plywood.
"Oh, that's it. You're doing this on purpose," Eddy shouts, abandoning his bag in favor of chasing Ed around the construction site a few times. Ed just laughs and Edd smiles too at the familiar sight.
And then immediately worries about the following Thursday.
Certainly, he can convince Doctor Moncado that there is nothing at all wrong with him in the slightest.
Because there isn't.