Mando Maraschino
Summary; Eddie was diagnosed with congestive heart failure almost two years ago. He's managed to survive this long, but recently, things have been getting worse. Richie was given 900 hours of court mandated community service. He picked the volunteer program at the hospital and ends up spending most of his free time in the Uris Cardiac Center.
Word Count: 3503
AN: Yo, this is going to be great, lots of jokes and puns. Lots of angst and fluff. I have a lot of OCs in this chapter but don't worry, all of the losers will play a role, especially Stan and Ben. Anywayssss, I don't have many other things to say besides I'm getting an ao3 soon so that's lit. Let's get on with the fic already.
Masterlist
“Eddie!” Adelaide‘s voice floated from outside her nephew’s room, talking over the blaring alarm he was somehow sleeping through and the softer hum of the oxygen concentrator. “Come on!” Nothing. “Come on! Up! Now!” She rapped her knuckles on the door, carelessly. Then again louder when she didn’t get a response. Still nothing; the alarm still going at it, the oxygen too. Her heart dropped like a stone, through her stomach and into her shoes. She threw Eddie’s door open, darting inside. She flicked on the lights, flushing out the pitch black that her nephew needed to sleep.
She heaved a sigh of sympathy and relief. Eddie was curled up in a tight ball in the middle of his queen-sized bed. The sheets were strewn about like he had been thrashing the whole night, some thrown off the bed and others strangling his legs, another wrapped around the poor boy like a nest. His oxygen mask was half off and she could hear him whimpering, wheezing too. He was drowning in his own sweat; his skin was shiny and clammy, hair stuck to his forehead, and his shirt clung to his body with sweat stains all it. His body was caught in a earthquake and Adelaide walked over, turning off the concentrator and sliding the mask off her nephew’s face, setting it on his night stand.
She grabbed his face gently, tapping his hotly flushed cheek with her index finger. “Wake up, baby. Come on, Eddie, wake up.” Eddie opened an eye, halfway. Little, raspy whines echoed from his throat and Adelaide shushed him. “It’s okay, baby.” She scooped him up into her arms, his skin scorching her’s. “We’re gonna bring you to the hospital, baby. And you’re gonna me okay. It’s all going to be okay, baby.” Adelaide cooed, running a hand through his damp hair as an act of comfort. “It’s okay.” She carried her nephew downstairs with no problem, holding back tears.
She managed to get Eddie in her backseat without much problem. Eddie was short and skinny, with nearly no meat on his bones; it was an effect of his strict diets, picky habits, and his condition. He lay across the backseats, the blanket Eddie had owned since he was born laying half-across him. Adelaide wiped her eyes at every stop sign and light. The dry gasps, cries of pain, and teeth-chattering coming from Eddie was too much. She drove a little faster at each whimper, pressing down on the gas a bit harder and chewing on her lip a bit rougher.
Her head was in a whirlwind, storming around a million different things. The driving force being Eddie dying in her backseat. The thoughts fueling it were too numerous and moving too fast to for her to catch or fully process like leaves caught in a hurricane or a kitten in river rapids. What kept her sane and strong through the storm was what the eye held. In the calm, right in the center of the tornado, where Eddie’s weak breathing and crying was drown out, where there was no noise at all but happy voices, sat a happy family. Eddie, without a concentrator, sitting with his arms around Roland, laughing and giggling with his boyfriend. Sonia and Frank, alive, standing with arms around each other, watching their happy son. Adelaide herself, holding onto a faceless person, with a grin on her worry lines free face.
A loud horn drew Adelaide out of her fantasy. Her eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, to Eddie in the backseat. His chest was rising and falling, quick and choppy, but definitely still breathing. “Hey bitch! The light is green!” A voice shouted from behind her and she leaned over to look in her side-view.
A head was retracting into the car behind her, the flash of a blonde hair and a face pricking at something in the back of her head. It was familiar but she couldn't quite place the thought. She flicked her eyes back to the road, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as she pressed down on the gas.
It was another two minutes down the road until she was pulling up to the Uris Cardiac Center at the Scott Children’s Hospital, parking sloppy so she could just get her kid nephew saf. She raced him inside the second her keys were out of the ignition and the nurses she knew so very well got him into a impatient room quickly. Adelaide stayed in the lobby room of the Uris, sitting in a chair as she tried to calm down.
She barely gave herself ten minutes before pulling out her phone and calling Sonia. Adelaide stood up and walked across the lobby, awaiting her sister.
Eddie's mother picked up on the third ring. “Hello? I'm at work right now, why didn't you just text me?” There was the sound of manicured nails on the generic, black plastic keyboards that all schools seemed to have and heavy breathing underneath her accusatory tone and afterwards.
“Eddie slept through his alarm this morning.” Adelaide mumbled, pacing back and forth in the small alcove that held two water fountains. She wrapped an arm around her head, tucking her face into her elbow. She needed to block her eyes from the fluorescents. Something about these particular lights seemed to give Adelaide a terrible migraine. At least, she swore it was the lights, but Eddie always told her she was too stressed.
“So?” Sonia’s voice was suddenly cruel and manipulative, the breathing even heavier than before. The clacking of her keyboard got more vicious and sharp. “You know I'm busy right now. I’m working, so I can support you and my son. So I can pay for everything he needs, and everything you need.”
The emphasis on you nearly pushed Adelaide over the edge. Adelaide exhaled a long breath and managed to stay calm despite the fact that her sister was being terribly rude.
“Sonia, darling, I quit my job and moved here, across the country, to homeschool him. And you know as well as I do that I'm looking for a job here, I am. But with Eddie depending on me all the time, it's hard to find one that will work.” When Adelaide didn't get an answer she continued, “I know you're stressed, but look, Eddie is sick and we're at the hospital.”
“Good for you,” Sonia grumbled.
Adelaide exhaled. “Did you not realize he was sick when you checked on him this morning?” Adelaide let her elbow drop away from her face. A headache had formed despite her best efforts. So she got back to pacing.
“I didn't check on him.” It was brief. Airy. Empty.
“Excuse me?” Adelaide was stopped in her tracks again. Her voice was just as taken aback as she was. She was joking, right? No, no. Sonia was a lot of things, but not a joker. Definitely not a joker.
“I had to get to work, I was running late. It's early hours today!” Sonia defended herself in that oh so recognizable ‘it's not my fault!’ squeaky, high pitched voice.
In, out. In then out, Adelaide, the woman told herself, patting herself on the cheek gently.
“He's more important than anything else, Sonia. Eddie is dying, okay?” Adelaide coaxed, her eyes squeezed shut. “He's going through heart failure. The tiniest cold or concentrator malfunction could kill him. His life is in our hands. Our. One wrong decision, any decision could mean life or death.” Adelaide lectured. Her words were heavy and so was her heart. Everything she said was true. Her life centered around this kid, so did Sonia’s. Eddie needed them, Eddie needed them to focus on him. “He is your son. He is my nephew. His life is in our hands.”
“I don't have time to visit him today. I'll come in tomorrow. Text me with news, I guess.” Sonia said in an even and chilly tone before hanging up the phone.
God, Adelaide wanted to slap the bitch. Hard. The woman stuck her phone back in her pocket and stepped across the tile floor.. She repeated a mantra of reassurance in her head. It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault. One repeat for each tile she stepped on. She told herself those three words over and over again.
She continued it even after sitting back down. This time repeating it for every time her leg bounced until she slammed her hand down onto her leg. Come on Adelaide, breathe girly. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.
In the twenty more minutes she sat there without news she had scrolled through her Instagram feed, flipped through Us magazine, and watched half of a YouTube video. Her video was interrupted by a soft voice.
“Ms. Beasley?”
“Oh? Yes, that’s me.” Adelaide looked up, pulling the one earbud she had in, down and away from her ear. Stanley Uris, a comforting face, stood there in his tall, gangly, awkward grace. His shoulders were tight, up towards his ears and his hands were stuck in his long chino pants.
“Eddie’s got pneumonia. They’re gonna put him on antibiotics. He’s gonna have to take his fluids through IV, there’s no way he can drink with how much trouble he’s having with breathing and how weak he is. tube feeding too. They’re nearly positive he’ll need respiratory therapy. And oxygen therapy, of course.” Stanley informed Adelaide, scuffing his foot along the ground.
“So he’s going to be fine?”
“My dad says nothing’s certain. Cause of his you know. But it’s my dad, he’s a miracle worker. And Eddie is a hardass. Pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance against him.” Stan‘s mouth twitched into a smile.
“Am I allowed to go in yet?” Stan shook his head.
“Mary will come get you when you’re all clear. They just want to make sure he’s completely stable and observe him for a little while.” Stan moved closer to Adelaide, squatting down to her level and putting a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Just hold on a little longer and you can see for yourself.” Adelaide put her own hand on top of his, smiling back at the boy.
“Thank you, Stanley, darling.” Adelaide released his hand only to take his face up gently. She pulled him in closer and down to kiss his forehead then ruffled his hair, carefully not to knock at his kippah. “I’m going to go get coffee and the survival kit. If he asks where I went, let him know, please?”
“Of course, Addy.” Stan nodded.
When Adelaide re-entered the Uris, a venti caffè mocha in hand. She had a pink tote bag, that 7 year old Eddie had picked out the day after getting released from the hospital. He had somehow stabbed himself in the stomach with a pencil and while Sonia drove him to the hospital, she had called Adelaide in hysterics. Adelaide flew in and helped Sonia out. Adelaide got an idea of a hospital survival kit from Sonia’s constant complaints and floundering, Eddie’s whining and his favorite gifts, and her own revelations. So the day after her nephew was released, they went to a strip mall and picked up everything on a list Adelaide had compiled.
Almost two years ago, when Eddie got diagnosed, the kit came in handy. It resided in the coat closet, on the top shelf. When Adelaide had grabbed it earlier, she was sad to disturb the thin layer of dust that had formed on the fabric.
“You’re all set, Ads. I signed you in. Kid’s in ‘04.” Adelaide’s favorite receptionist in the world, Paula, set the sign-in clipboard back on the counter in front of her. “Tell him I say hi?”
“Totally. Thanks!” Adelaide flashed a wide smile, moving down the hallway to Eddie’s room. Paula stared after the other totally oblivious woman, chin in hand, until Adelaide turned around halfway down the hall to wave another thank you. Paula nearly fell out of her chair.
“Hey kiddo!” Adelaide grinned, strolling into Eddie’s room and sitting down in the chair by his bed. Eddie was propped up against a pile of pillows; there were tubes in his arms, nasal cannula in, and he was hooked up to the vitals. He looked exhausted and weak. There were dark circles underneath his eye, contrasting again his tan skin. His cheekbones and collarbones seemed to stick out more than usual. His skin was tight and transparent on his face. His eyes were heavy lidded, halfway closed.
“Addy,” Eddie rasped.
“I got the survival kit. And texted Roland.”
“Is he gonna-”
“He’ll be here later.” Adelaide interrupted, setting the pink tote down on Eddie’s lap.
“Is ma?” Eddie asked, digging through the bag. He pulled out a fluffy throw and socks, draping the blanket across himself he passed his socks over to Adelaide. He moved so his legs stuck out over the side of the bed and Adelaide slid on his socks.
“No, I’m sorry, baby. She’s..,” Adelaide’s stomach twisted with guilt. “She’ll be here tomorrow, I promise.”
Eddie nodded, trying to hide that he was getting tearful.
“I put your phone and stuff in the bag. And it’s got all the usual things. You’re probably too tired to keep talking, so I’m gonna-”
Eddie held out the survival kit washcloth to her and she took it, sighing a smile. She brought it to the sink and wet it. She looked at herself in, nearly unable to recognize the worn face glancing back at her. She wrung out the cloth and walked back to the bed, leaning down to push her nephew’s curls back and kiss his forehead before setting the damp washcloth across his brow.
“I love you so much kiddo and I’m so glad you’re okay.” She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks and he gave her that sweet, glowing smile.
Around 4 o’clock, one hour before Uris closed to visitors, Eddie got his first guest of the day, not counting Adelaide.
The guest’s face was hidden behind a bundle of fake red, pink, white and purple carnations and peonies, but Eddie knew who it was. It was the same somebody who always brought him a craft store bouquet of his favorite kinds of flowers, no matter the occasion. The somebody who wore dorky shirts with science puns or Star Wars posters printed on them. The somebody who has stuck with him during his diagnosis, and the surgeries, and all of it.
Eddie’s heart fluttered and he cooed happily, smiling through his sick, swollen face. He sluggishly scooted up the bed. He rubbed his eyes before giving Roland a happy wave.
Roland lowered the flowers and smiled back at his sick boyfriend. Eddie loved his crooked smile and the dimples he got. And the little crinkled lines he got around his eyes. “Hey handsome, I’m sorry the flowers are so squished and you know, um, ruffled but I rushed here as soon as I could, Adelaide texted me-” Eddie, reclining against the many pillows on his bed, made a little noise and gestured to the television which played an old baseball movie. Roland grabbed the remote and clicked off the movie. “But I’m here now and I would have been here sooner...but, anyways, I uh kinda have another gift, hold on.”
Roland set Eddie’s flowers on the bedside table and dragged a chair over, both boys cringing at the noise. Roland sat down, his chair so close that the side of the bed dug into his knees. He slid the nerdy purple drawstring backpack off his shoulder, yanking it open. He pulled out a envelope. “I mean I guess it’s not a gift, it’s just a thing, I don't know. But um here.” Roland scratched the back of his head with one hand and held out the envelope with the other, his face flushed softly.
Eddie grabbed it, struggling to open the paper without ripping the red material or the content. Roland reached over and stuck his thumb under the flap to pull the envelope open for his boyfriend. Eddie wheezed a thanks which prompted a nod in return from Roland. He pulled out a letter and a paper that was folded into quarters. Eddie started on the quartered paper; he unfolded it and his face broke into a wide grin. It was a comic, sketched in pencil.
There was a sketch of Roland wearing a sweatshirt that was much too small for him, it barely covered half his arm, and a pair of red shorts, staring in the mirror. A little speech bubble came off his head, “I love making fun of my boyfriends while I wear his clothes…”
The next panel had Roland opened mouth and his face scrunched up, mid-laugh. “I drink black coffee. I’m super duper gay. I’m a short little weirdo. I’m so cool and awesome, and cute, and sexy, and-”
The next panel had a door swinging open.
The next Eddie attacking Roland in a hug. “I know you are.”
The final was the two laying in bed, wrapping up in each other and the blankets.
Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears. “It’s not good, I’m sorry. I don’t know, I just- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...it was a bad idea. I’m sorry,” Roland rambled.
“Is that my..,” Eddie’s crackled voice faded off, his throat too sore and swollen for him to finish. His finger pointed to the mask on his face and the boxy shape on the ground near his bed in the last panel.
“Your concentrator? Yeah, it is.” Roland reached out, setting his hand on Eddie’s arm, stroking his skin. A tear escaped Eddie’s eyes and Roland wiped it away. He ran his thumb over Eddie’s cheekbone gently. Roland moved in, rising from his chair halfway to press his lips to Eddie’s for a second. “Want me to read you the letter, baby?”
Eddie nodded, clearly tired and tuckered out from just reading and admiring the comic. Roland took the papers from him, setting the comic aside, tossing the envelope in the waste basket, and then unfolding the letter. He smoothed it out, setting it on his knees. Eddie turned over to face his boyfriend, resettling the nasal cannula tubes. Eddie took one of Roland’s hands in his own, intertwining their fingers.
“To the love of my life,” Roland started, reading from the paper covered in his sloppy handwriting. “I love you so much. And I will be here with you through everything, I have been so far and that won’t change. You mean the world to me, you are my universe and my sun and moon. I would run to the ends of the earth for you. We may just be stupid teens in love but I want to spend everyday of the rest of our lives with you because you, Eddie Kaspbrak, are the only one I want. I know you don’t get it, how I can have so much hope for our future and how I could possibly think you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon or how could I possibly want to stay with you through all of this , but you are gorgeous and something inside me, maybe my gut or like ESPN or whatever, tells me that we’re meant to be. You stressed stronger than anyone else I know, stronger than anything that will ever come your way. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. I love you to Pluto and back, baby. Or in the words of a treasured vine, I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you, bitchhh.” Roland finally looked up from his paper to see his boyfriend asleep, drool already pooling at one side of his mouth. Roland laughed softly and set the letter aside with his free hand before clasping Eddie’s tiny hand inside both of his. He stroked the back of his boyfriend’s hand softly with his thumb.
“I know it’s not enough, baby. I know you wish I could magically cure you, I wish I could too. And I’m so so sorry, I’m really really sorry. I know it’s so hard and god I worry about you all the time, I lay awake at night crying and fretting over you. I’m so sorry handsome, but I’ll be with you, okay? I’ll always be with you.” Roland brought Eddie’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I love you, Eddie baby.”
He sat there for another hour with nothing but the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the hospital machines, with the buzz of the other rooms playing underneath. Eventually a nurse came in and told Roland to go home, greeting him first in recognition. Before getting up, he pulled out a frame with a picture of them outside Paging All the Readers. He set it on the bedside table and kissed Eddie’s cheek one more time before leaving.
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