Work Text:
The week had been rough.
Too many things happened and Eddie hardly remembered half of them. None of the neighbors particularly noticed his fatigue as they played their usual games and shenanigans. It was normal for Home, but draining for Eddie.
Eddie had finally arrived at his post office after a long day. He dropped his mail bag to the floor while standing in the doorway, unmoving.
“Another day in..” he muttered to himself, looking down at his bandaged wrist, “another day out.”
He had gotten a couple questions about his bandages, “an accident” he called it. And in a way it was an accident. He didn't explain much when people asked. He merely brushed it off as a tool he mishandled while daydreaming. Eddie said he was fine.
Was he fine?
His earlier headache lingered, a phantom pain he couldn't quite shake. He squeezed his eyes shut with a slight grimace.
“Where does all that time run off to..?”
He put his hat up on the hatstand. It just fell to the floor. The hatstand was on its side from the hectic night before, something he hadn't picked up yet.
He forgot it was down there. Now laying with his hat.
Eddie stared blankly at it before putting his face in his hands.
“...I need to get myself outta here,” he murmured to himself while stepping back out of his office.
The sun over Home was setting, casting pleasant orange hues over the town. It made it seem peaceful.. So then why did Eddie feel an ache of dread? It was a pit in his stomach that made him worried. Something was happening, he knew it, but what?
He shrugged it off and decided to go visit Frank. They were always.. kind to him, after all. A break was needed, surely.
Eddie walked down the main neighborhood street, the only one they had, all the way to Frank's home. It looked unassuming from the outside, a little green and white place surrounded by plants Frank had always tended to so dearly.
He stood outside the door for a second, hesitating, but quickly found his courage again. He lifted his hand to knock, but before he could, the door slowly swung open on its own.
“Oh-!” he stared into the house for a long moment. Why was Frank's door open like that? Had they been in a rush to get home and didn't shut it all the way? That didn't seem very Frank-like though.
Odd.
“Uh.. Mr. Frankly? You alright in here?” Eddie asked warily, stepping inside. That gut feeling got worse as the silence persisted. It felt oppressive, like it was trying to suffocate Eddie from the inside out.
He looked around the living room. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, everything was in its correct place and completely orderly.. Minus the closet door was open. That was also incredibly odd.
Eddie stepped fully into the house, shutting the door behind him. He looked around for a moment before deciding that Frank was likely in their room.
He knew he probably shouldn't pry but now it was a welfare check. He needed to know if his.. friend was okay.
“Mr. Frankly? You in there?” Eddie called out again, now at the base of the staircase. He heard sounds from the bedroom.
He walked up the stairs, taking it slow just in case Frank was indecent or something like that.
Not that it mattered.
At the base of the steps in front of Frank's door, Eddie heard the sound more clearly. Heavy breathing. Frantic and desperate. Someone gasping for air they couldn't quite get.
Eddie knocked a couple times. “Frank..? Hey, I'm comin’ in, okay?” he said before pushing the door open.
“Shit-!”
Eddie took a quick step back at the side of his dear friend with a gun in their hands.
Frank looked distant, like they weren't quite in control of what they were doing. They were sitting on their bed, facing the sidewall. Their breath came in ragged gasps with a gun pointed to their forehead.
Since when did Frank even have something like that?!
“Hey- Hey, hey, hey. No-” Eddie stumbled forward. He rushed over to the bed and put his hand over Frank's, guiding it down to the plush covers of the blanket, “Frank, don't-.. Frank?”
Frank wasn't crying exactly. They just looked stuck in their own body. Their hands trembled around the gun as they didn't focus on the other yet.
Eddie knew that look too well. He had seen it in his own mirror at home.
He gently pried the weapon out of their hands and placed it on the bedside table, he could ask about it later. Frank needed help more than Eddie needed answers.
“..Frankie? Hey,” he murmured, keeping his voice gentle so as to not disturb the other too much. His hand held theirs, thumb rubbing soft circles on their knuckles.
Eddie stayed with Frank despite the lack of an answer, patiently waiting.
Frank stayed blank for a moment longer until they blinked a few times, startled by their own state of dissociation.
They noticed Eddie immediately, the warm grip of his hands, and exhaled a shaky breath. Frank's face scrunched up with the beginnings of a sob as they pressed their forehead against the mailman's shoulder.
Eddie sighed a breath of relief that Frank was present. His hands moved to slide around Frank's waist and hold them close. “I got you, you're okay.”
Frank sobbed quietly into Eddie's shoulder.
“What's happening? I- I don't.. Fuck,” they stammered out. That weapon was never supposed to have left the closet.
Eddie didn't have an answer. Well, he did. But it wasn't something to tell Frank. Not now. Not after what could've happened.
“Deep breaths, love,” he reminded softly.
Frank took a few deep breaths that hitched and wavered, but they were breaths.
“Good,” Eddie pulled back slightly to face Frank better, “..do you remember what started… that?”
“..No. No I don't. I was- I was just reading I'm pretty sure..? I swear I was just reading!” Frank insisted, shaking their head in disbelief. Their gaze flickered to the weapon on the nightstand and quickly looked away.
“Have… Have you thought like that before-?”
“What?! No! Of course not!” Frank snapped back harshly and immediately regretted it, “I- sorry, I'm just.. disoriented and scared, I guess.”
Eddie brought a hand up to cup Frank's face, looking at them intently. “You don't gotta apologize none, I understand.”
He thought back to his wrist, the cut that was made there because he physically couldn't stop himself from pushing down on the paper-cutter. It felt like the same thing Frank had just experienced.
“..I understand,” he echoed, refocusing on the man sitting in front of him instead of his own issues.
Frank took a quick breath and wiped a few tears from their face, that motion transitioning to running a hand through their hair.
“..We're going to be okay, right?” they asked, studying Eddie's face for reassurance.
Eddie's gaze didn't waver. “Yeah.. Yeah we'll be okay. As long as we're together, we'll survive whatever this is.”
Frank didn't look too convinced but nodded anyway. “Okay.. Good.”
They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, the weight of the tension settling on their shoulders like a stone. Heavy and rough.
“...So are we talking about why you even have a gun orr..?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Got it.”
Eddie had let his hands fall back to Frank's again, intertwining their fingers together in a way that felt like second nature by now. They both needed that reassurance. That the other was actually here. That this was real.
This was real.
It had to be.