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International Suicide Helplines

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Leaving Eddie there, alone to rot, felt like a betrayal, and your suffocating guilt convinced you that you were the one who killed him; you were the reason his body was rotting from the inside out.

Every milestone and passing of time was just another reminder that he wasn't coming home, another reminder that he was on his own in the bitter cold in a place you couldn't access. 

The nightmares became so severe that you were too scared to sleep, and eventually, with the constant refusal of rest, the line between your world and reality started to blur. Everyone and everything frightened you; they put you constantly on edge.

"Stop it!" you'd yell, backing into the darkest corner of your room. "I am not leaving this room, I know what you're doing!"

Robin and Steve stood in the opposite corner, pleading with you to come outside and feel the warmth of the sun kissing your face.

"We won't do anything, we swear," Robin said calmly, trying to defend herself with her hands, palms spread and fingers fanned out.

You shook your head violently. "No, no! You lie! I know what's waiting for me out there, you're going to hand me in for killing him!"

Steve's eyes were full of tears at the sight of you.

Your eyes were dull and presented deep, hollow bags, and your clothes that used to fit like a glove were now draping over you, three sizes too big because you were constantly missing meals, feeling too sick to eat.

"You didn't kill him," Steve choked out, his voice cracking. "What happened to Eddie was..."

You flinched, scurrying further back into your room. The sun peeking through your long curtains, burning your eyes only made things worse. 

"Don't say his name! No, no, lalala, I'm not buying it!" You pulled the curtain shut with sudden, frantic force, plunging the room into darkness. You could no longer see Steve or Robin; you didn't want to. "You're both trying to get me locked up, sent away! Get out!! He's dead! I killed him, I killed him!"

Steve and Robin slowly dragged their feet out of your room, their heads bowed in defeat. Outside, they looked up at your terrified parents and shook their heads.

"Nothing," Steve muttered. "She just became angry. Paranoid."

"She's stuck in this state where she believes she's going to be locked up for murder." Robin sighed, trying to avoid eye contact with your parents. 

"Yes," your mother replied, defeated, "Or she's stuck in the moment where he's died, we hear her calling out for him, screaming all night. The same time every night."

Your parents thought your mania would last forever, that your loud and violent outbursts would be the ultimate reason they sent you away for specialised care once they were too old and frail to handle it themselves.

But one day, you stopped eating and drinking completely, unable to open your mouth and talk, or even look away from the centre of your bedroom wall. 

Every part of you that made you you was gone; all that was left behind was a breathing body with no other function but to starve and rot away.

Just like Eddie.

You became glued to the chair in the corner of your room, staring blankly at the wall, often without blinking for long periods of time, causing your eyes to become incredibly dry and bloodshot.

Your mother begged you to do something, like look at her or turn your head, but you never did. She shook you, squeezed your hands, and yelled your name until her throat was sore and hoarse, but nothing changed.

"Please, darling, look at me." She'd beg, a crying mess, "If you can hear me, just blink for me, baby, blink twice for yes and once for no."

You didn't blink. 

Your parents couldn't keep you under their roof with you in such a state, and your refusal to eat and drink would brand them as killers if you were to die from dehydration and starvation. 

The decision wasn't made lightly; it was their last resort, sending you to the psychiatric facility, but in doing so, they allowed themselves to have a sliver of hope that rehabilitation was possible for you. 

"A feeding tube, that would keep her alive, right?" Your father chirped, his eyes the brightest they had been in months. 

"Realistically, your daughter's physical condition would improve. She would put on weight and gain nourishment, but we cannot promise to delay or reverse her severe mental decline."

You would never recover. You were trapped inside your own body, reliving hell over and over without release. Unable to move, unable to speak, unable to live.

The hope they had in the feeding tube was a bust, and rather than put on weight, the feeding tube did nothing but put your already declining body in more discomfort. Your organs were failing slowly at first, but towards the end of your last week, the decline became rapid, and there was nothing left to do but put you on end of life care.

"I've notified her friends," the head nurse murmured, "they'll be on their way."

They placed you in a private room, away from the other patients who would only know a long, hollow life inside the facility, free to roam but never free to explore the edges of the earth. 

You were still sitting in a chair in the corner, and the only thing your mind could see was Eddie's dead body, which had become a permanent freeze-frame, burning itself into the screen of your eyelids.

"How is she?" Nancy asked your mom, her small, sharp face full of worry. "They say she's..." Nancy swallowed hard, "End of life now?"

Your mom nodded with her shoulders slumped under the weight of grief. She wanted you to die so you could be at peace, no longer suffering, but for you to die, her baby, would be the ultimate loss she'd never get over. 

"The feeding tube causes her more distress than it's worth, and her body started rejecting it... She's got no quality of life, Nancy, none."

Nancy reached out and held your cold, pale hand, her thumb gently stroking your knuckles. "H-How long does she have?" 

Tears filled your mother's eyes, and her lips quivered. "Not long, Nancy. She probably doesn't have another week in her."

Nancy hesitated for a moment, sharing a heavy glance with Steve and Robin, who stood hovering near the doorway.

Your mother noticed the sudden shift in the room's energy. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"A miracle... really," Nancy said, lowering her voice, "we can't describe o-or even figure out how this happened, but he isn't dead."

Your mother's eyes widened, and her eyebrows pulled together "What?" 

"Eddie is alive."

Eddie appeared in the doorway, covered in deep bruises and brutal scars. His hair was frazzled and stained with blood and a little longer than the night he 'died'.

"Oh my God," your mother gasped, covering her mouth, "This can't be possible."

"We were all hoping that he could give her a chance to fight through this, to come back." Robin spoke up from the corner of the room. 

Eddie felt exhausted, but the moment his eyes locked onto you, he wished he hadn't made it out at all. He closed in on you slowly and couldn't stop staring at you. You were almost completely unrecognisable. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie called out, loud enough for you to hear, "It's me." He dropped to his knees beside your chair and he took your tiny hands in his.

Everyone in the room expected you to break out of your spell, confused, in disbelief or even totally relieved. They were hoping you would scream and jump out of your chair and into his arms, unable to control your anger for him taking so long to find his way back to you. 

Instead, you just stared through him, your pupils didn't dilate, your emaciated body didn't move. You couldn't see him right there in front of you, living and breathing. 

All you could see was the same freeze frame of his dead body and the blood. 

"Hey, it's me, Babe. Your man is back," Eddie whispered before reaching up with his dirt-coated hands, lightly trembling, as he cupped your hollow cheeks. "I'm alive. C'mon, princess."

Your parents, Steve, Robin and Nancy all watched with deep regret and building remorse for Eddie. Their hearts were shattering at the inevitable, and all they could do was watch as grief began to destroy another pure and soft soul.

Eddie grabbed your limp and cold hand, squeezing and kissing it before he pushed it against his chest, and holding it right over his heart. His heart was beating wildly against your hand, but you couldn't feel it. You wanted to, but you weren't there. 

"Please," he begged, a strangled sob escaping him, "Can't you feel it, baby?" The tears streamed down his face, washed clean tracks through the dirt and dried blood. 

The darkness had completely consumed you and you were too far gone to be reached. It was as if that night in the upside down, you were the one who died. Not Eddie.

Your mother couldn't take any more, and she quickly fled the room, taking your father with her. Nancy stared at you for a moment before following your parents, hoping to provide them with some sort of comfort or support.

Eddie crawled closer to you and placed a soft and desperate kiss against your forehead, and then against your dry and cracked lips. 

"Come back to me, sweetheart." He whispered, "I've just got back, I can't be here alone."

Steve closed in on Eddie and put a hand on Eddie's shoulder, "Munson," he sighed, "I'm sorry but she's gone, man." 

"But she can't be!" Eddie sobbed louder, pulling your fragile body out of the chair and into his arms, tucking you into his chest like a doll, "She's right here, she's here."

Eddie refused to let go, he refused for anyone to try and intervene and as he rocked back and forth, humming and singing your favourite songs from the floor, the colour in your eyes began to fade and your breathing slowed until it finally came to a stop.

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All Eddie could think about was spilling his hot seed inside your swelling cunt. The images of your stomach supporting a bump only made his erection more stiff and painful. 

Looking up from the crib, your eyes met Eddies, and you were engulfed in his hunger and deep wanting, but you weren't sure where it came from, not until you got home. 

"Eds," you whined, "you've been staring at me like that since we were in the store. What's going on?"

Eddie approached you from behind, his arms sneaking around your waist and hands resting on your tummy. "Just thinking about a baby being in there." He murmured against your neck, kissing it softly. 

Your eyes widened and you stared at him through the mirror, watching his eyes undress you.

"What?" You tried not to laugh, "Eds, you've never wanted kids."

He kept kissing your neck, each kiss lingering longer than the one before it, "I can always change my mind, and besides," his other hand sneaked up higher and cupped one of your breasts, "You'd look so sexy pregnant."

Your cheeks began to burn as Eddie twirled you around to face him, the two of you just feet away from his bed, and although you were rather surprised by his confession, you couldn't deny the fluttering you could feel in your heat and the dampening of your underwear.

"I would?" You asked softly, feeling him tug at the bottom of your shirt. 

"Mhm," he hummed, leading you closer to his bed. 

Tugging off your shirt, you were encouraged to continue undressing, as long as you kept your bra and panties on; Eddie always liked taking them off himself.

Eddie removed his sleeveless shirt and his belt before eagerly pulling off his jeans and carelessly throwing them across the floor. He pulled you back into his arms, and his lips attacked yours ferociously, his tongue begging you for entrance as you opened your mouth, allowing him to explore.

His hand reached up to the top of your back and his fingers unclipped your bra, Eddie pulled back from the kiss and stared down at your breasts.

"Fuck," he breathed, "can't stop thinking about how full of milk your tits are going to get."

"You really want to do that?" you asked, you lip quivering, "Get me pregnant?"

Eddie stopped cupping your breast and pointed his index finger into you, slowly dragging it from your breastbone and down your tummy, "I can't stop thinking about it," he growled, his finger now dragging lower to where your swollen clit started to peek through your underwear.

"Just imagine it," he stroked at your nub, "with your bump, everyone would know that I fuck you and how well you take it." 

Eddie pulled your underwear down, and they naturally slid down your legs, falling around your feet on his floor.

"Being pregnant with your baby..." you murmured, "I'd be tied to you forever, then, wouldn't I?" 

He chuckled, and a wide grin spread across his face, "That's right, and I do it again, over and over." 

Eddie began to stroke your clit as he pulled you into the bed, ensuring that your back was against the mattress, not his. His soft lips attacked your neck again, biting and sucking lightly. 

"Claiming you from the inside," he growled, "is much more powerful than a mark on your neck." 

The pads of his fingers slipped lower, exploring your glistening and slick folds, your excitement spilling with each word and touch of his. You couldn't control yourself; each word felt like a promise, rather than a dominating and lustful threat.

"You want me to knock you up so bad, don't you?" He growled again, his index finger now teasingly poking into your entrance.

You couldn't stop the soft moans from slipping, your head slightly pushing further into his mattress, "Y-Yes, Eddie, I do. I want you to, so bad."

"Oh yeah?" He teases you, tilting his head, "Lift your legs for me, sweetheart."

You did as you were told and raised your legs in the air, Eddie gripped your waist and crawled closer to you. He leaned over your body and placed your legs on his shoulders. His other hand bunched around the base of his dick, rubbing the streak of his spit against his shaft and over his pink, spongy head that was hovering in front of the entrance to your tight cunt.

"Tell me what you want." 

"I want you to get me pregnant, Eds. I want you to cum deep inside of me, please."

Eddie pushed himself inside of you, his larger length making you gasp as your walls stretched and strangled him. He didn't waste time, he never did, and he bucked his hips into you, each thrust more powerful than the one before, going deeper and deeper inside of you, his tip skimming your cervix.

The room became a constant mix of your angelic moans, Eddie's low and primal groans, and the squeaking of his mattress as the bed rocked. He stared down, watching the way his dick would glide effortlessly in and out of your cunt, completely disappearing before reappearing again.

"You're taking me so well," he grunted, "can't imagine how much more sensitive you'll be to my big dick when you're pregnant. Ah, fuck!"

Your lips were pursed together and your cheeks were flushing as the feeling and sight of him taking you all for himself, "J-Just imagine how I'll look when you have me on all fours, with a rounder stomach."

Eddie began thrusting faster, his bucks more wild, his hand began to fall into his face and got in the way of his eyes. He blew his frizzy strands of hair out of his face and squeezed your legs, leaving a trail of kisses down them as he leaned over you just a little more, his dick reaching deeper until it couldn't go any further inside you.

"Ah, Eds! You're all in there," you whimpered, "I can't fit any more of you in."

Eddie's head lolled back and he groaned, "Fuck I just want to cum, need to get you pregnant. Need to fill you with my fucking cum."

His dirty talk only made the fluttering worse and your slickness intensified. The more you thought about him cumming inside of you and the risk of falling pregnant, the more you wanted it, craved it.

Your gummy walls were becoming more sensitive and delicate and the familiar pressure began to build inside your lower stomach. 

"Eds, I'm getting close," you whimpered again, "all this talk is getting me excited."

Eddie snapped his head up at you, "Talk, huh? You think this is all talk?"

"I..."

"I mean every fucking word," Eddie cut you off, "I'm going to come so deep inside of you, Ah - get you pregnant so you can't leave, and watch your body change."

The pressure kept building and building. 

"Like my stomach getting bigger, rounder?" You added, your legs starting to twitch, "My cunt getting more swollen? Tits filling up with milk?"

Eddie's face started flushing and his jaw clenched, eyebrows pulling together as beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. 

"I want it, Eds," you moaned, "all of it, fuck!" 

The pressure reached it's peak, and you were uncontrollable with the outburst, your cum oozing down Eddie's length, pooling around the base of his dick. Your legs were shaking, practically vibrating as Eddie began to twitch inside of you. 

"That's it," you encouraged him, "Go on, cum inside of me like you said you would."

"Jesus Christ!" Eddie let out a strangled moan, his thick ropes shooting deep inside of you as he buried his entire self as deep as he could reach, his sweaty forehead pressing against yours.

"I'm getting you pregnant," He panted, "I'm cumming so... deep inside of you." 

You brought a hand up to cup Eddie's face, smiling softly at him. "Everyone is going to know just how good you fuck me."

Eddie grinned and couldn't stop himself from lightly laughing, "and how well you take it." 

You started to wriggle but Eddie shook his head, continuing to press you into him, "No, not yet," he said softly, "I can't pull out too soon... and you need to keep your legs up." 

Your heart began to flutter out of excitement, "Eds..."

"Hm?"

"I think we'll have to buy that crib I was looking at, the wooden one."

You tried to shuffle over to your dressing table, but you couldn't move your heavy legs and aching thighs. As the cramps intensified, you hunched over further, gripping at your stomach and lowly groaning, screwing your eyes shut. Your pad also sat uncomfortably in your underwear, slightly twisted at the back, and the adhesive was coming loose. 

Fuck. Why is this happening now? I should've rescheduled.

Why didn't I tell him I was coming on and for him to stay home? He'll be pissed when he realises...

"What is it?" Eddie asked, "What do you need?"

Eddie noticed the dullness in your eyes and the slight knitting of your eyebrows to know that something was wrong. You were always bubbly with a little hop and skip in your step, so to see you struggling to stay on your feet was ringing the alarm bells in his head.

"It's fine, I can get it." He said sofly, gently placing a hand on your waist, leading you closer to the bed. 

You knew you couldn't get to balm now. If you tried, you'd either fall to the floor or risk your pad falling down the leg of your pyjamas, risking a thick trickle of blood to follow after. 

"What do you need?" Eddie repeated, not taking your refusals for an answer. 

You sighed, already feeling useless, "Please can you pass me the balm in the green tin?" You pointed towards your dressing table, tucked in the corner of your bedroom.

Eddie stood up, walked over and grabbed the green tin, which looked tiny in his hands. He focused on the floral and herb illustration over the front of the tin, and traced the weed leaf with the pad of his thumb.

"What's goin' on?" Eddie asked, his wide doe eyes full with worry, giving you the balm, "Since when did you use this sort of balm?"   

"It's nothing," you were quick with your response.

Periods were normal and nothing to be ashamed of but your ex-boyfriend's change in behaviour every time you came on was enough to make you feel embarrassed and dirty; the sight of a pad repulsed him, and if any blood managed to seep through your clothing or onto the chair you were sitting on, he'd lose his mind. 

"You're disgusting!" he whined, throwing a towel at you fast and hard, almost whipping you with it. 

You could feel the shame burning the tips of your ears and weighing heavily in the bottom of your stomach, "I can't help it! Do you honestly think that any of us enjoys going through this? Do you think that we enjoy the bleeding, the cramps, and the monthly cost of tampons and pads?!"

You wouldn't defend yourself when he'd start mouthing off, you'd stay quiet and bully yourself, scolding yourself for bleeding, but you were starting to grow tired of becoming a punching bag for something you couldn't control. 

"Oh, stop complaining!" He raised his voice over you, "It's all you lot do, whinge and whine. I knew periods made you moody, but I didn't realise they turned you into a total bitch!" 

It wasn't just his vile outlook on this natural function that took a toll on you, but it was his lack of sympathy and zero ability to provide the simplest of care when you were in bed, struggling, writhing in pain. 

"I'm sorry to ask," you started, "but the pain is getting really bad again, please can you grab my heat pad? I don't think I can make it out of bed."

Rather than returning with what you asked with a hand on your shoulder or a kiss on your head, you were denied care, you were every single time, you didn't even know why you asked, you knew he wouldn't help anyway. 

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something? If I die in this game, I'll have to start all over again. Get it yourself, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

"doesn't look like nothing," Eddie crawled onto your bed, watching you slowly drag your feet over before lying back against the pillows.

Carefully, you tugged your loose-fitting pyjama pants down and pulled off the lid of the tin. Using your index and middle finger, you scooped up the creamy balm, evenly and gently spreading it across your abdomen 

"Thank you for getting it for me, I won't ever ask again." You panicked, but trying to keep your voice steady . 

Eddie's eyebrows knitted together more, bunching up and he hesitated for a moment, almost keeping quiet, but he couldn't. This wasn't like you.

"You're never like this." He tilted his head, "Just tell me what's up, I'm getting worried, babe."

"It's uhh..." you swallowed hard, "I'm on my period... I know I should've told you not to come over and I know I need to suck it up, I usually do but I'm in agony, and don't worry about any blood getting on your jeans, I put a towel down on the mattress before you came over."

He's going to leave. He's going to be so pissed.

Eddie wanted to laugh at first until he realised how ashamed you were. The sight of you struggling to massage the balm into yourself made his heart ache. 

"Sweetheart," he cooed, "pass me the balm."

"It's okay, I've got this-" 

"Pass me the balm."

Looking into Eddie's dark eyes, you were greeted with warmth, softness, and sympathy. His palm was out, hovering over your stomach. 

Dampening your lips with your tongue, you gave him the balm and watched as he scooped it out onto his fingers before gently spreading it on your stomach. His touch was firm but not aggressive, and he massaged the balm into you in circular motions, careful not to press too hard.

Your heart went fluttery at his touch, and how happy he looked to be massaging you; he was focused and relaxed.

"First of all, there's nothing wrong with a little blood spilling when it's your time of the month. Second, why the hell didn't you tell me? I would've got you a heat pad or something."

The whiplash caught you off guard, and rather than focusing on Eddie's hands, you were staring at him, unable to believe what he said. So casually, with no passive aggression.

He noticed you staring at him and pulled back a little, still massaging you, "What?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "Did you think this would bother me?" 

Go on, tell him.

"I'm not used to that response," you spoke up, your voice hollow, "my ex... he... didn't get it."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, "What's not to get?"

If only you knew.. 

"Did he have an extreme phobia of blood or something?" Eddie continued.

You sat up just enough for your boyfriend to stop massaging before lifting the towel from under you and passing it to Eddie so he could wipe the excess oils from his hands. 

A long sigh escaped your lips, "He didn't have a phobia, he just blamed me, every time I came on, he'd force me to keep away from him." You took a breath, "I couldn't sit near him, if I was in pain, I had to be quiet about it and get on with it on my own, he'd make me feel disgusting for..."

"For menstruating? Seriously? What a loser." Eddie scoffed.

He finished wiping his hands and folded the towel up before, wrapping an arm around you.

"You should've told me, I would've... I don't know, got you some pills, brought you some weed you could smoke, some chocolate or whatever you're needing."

You felt a little pathetic at the tears welling up in your eyes. This was the bare minimum, but you'd never had it before. You were denied it and refused to believe that you'd ever get it.

"The heat pad you mentioned earlier did sound nice," you admitted, blinking away your tears. 

Eddie pressed a kiss to your temple, nuzzling his nose into you as the balm slowly absorbed into your skin. With his arm still around you, he pulled you into his arms with enough room for you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

"How about I go and get you that heat pad from the store, maybe stop by Family Video and rent out whatever movie you want to watch, and we can order a pizza. Sound good?" 

You couldn't tell if it was a placebo effect from the new balm you were trying or if Eddie's compassion was truly easing the pain.

"That sounds perfect, Eds." You murmured, nuzzling into him, "Thank you."

"Nope, no, don't want to hear a thank you," he smirked, "it's the bare minimum, princess."

Eddie kept his word. 

Each month, when you were due, he'd have the heat pad ready, or a hot bath, with extra fluffy and absorbent towels he could wrap around you when you managed to climb out of the tub. 

When blood trickled down your inner thighs and dropped to the floor, Eddie would wipe it up without complaint, reassuring you that it was just blood - nothing gross, nothing to apologise over or be embarrassed about; he didn't think twice, he didn't even blink.

If you were painfully bloated and not in the mood to eat, Eddie saved the pizza for another day and offered you something settling to drink instead. You'd fall asleep to him massaging your scalp and stroking your hair, or helping to ease the crushing pain in your pelvis and lower back.

Bizarrely, this time of the month (aside from the pain) became your favourite. You and Eddie, dead to the rest of the world, curled up in bed together, peacefully getting by without embarrassment or shame.

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