video memory share and text message

[germhating_hypochondriac]

[You're cradling a broken arm and panicking, running out of a dilapidated house with your friends.  Richie and Bill never leave your side, even though you know they can run faster. You get to your bikes and before you can even ask how you're going to ride - Mike lifts you up and gently places you in his bike basket.  You can hear Richie cursing the entire way.  All of you are terrified as you escape.  Once you reach safety, your friends call your mom.  They keep you company until she arrives, each comforting you in their own way.  You're in pain and scared, but you also feel loved.

Your mother arrives and grabs you by your good arm, pulling you away from your friends.  She points to your friends with her free hand and yells at them, blaming them for you being hurt. She then moves that hand to the back of your neck, tightly enough to hurt and talks about how delicate you are. Bill tries to explain what happened.  You mom shoves you into her car and continues blaming your friends. In her rage, she drops her keys.  Bev moves to pick them up for her.  Your mom yells at her, saying horrible things, calling her a dirty girl.  Bill tries to explain again and your mother yells out more angry words.  She calls your friends monsters and tells them that you're done with them.

Your mom gets in the car and drives, taking you away from your friends.   She talks the whole way to the hospital, reminding you that your're weak, scaring you with the idea that your arm might need surgery - which could lead to infection and amputation.  She claims that happened to a friend of hers.  She sets new rules too.  She tells you that you'll need more sleep and will need a dark room to rest in.  That's horrible. You've always been afraid of the dark and with the clown still out there, the dark is even scarier. She says you're only to leave the house to go to the pharmacy when you need more pills.  And worst of all, that you are never to see you friends again.   You feel so helpless, all you do is cry.]




[Your arm is set in a cast and healing.  You've been following your mother's new rules and feeling sorry for yourself.  You get a phone call that changes that. Bev has been kidnapped by Pennywise.   Your friends need you.  You're about to leave when your mother blocks your way, telling you that you can't go because of your sickness.

"My sickness? Okay, what sickness, Ma?"  You ask and show her your bottle of pills.  "You know what these are? They're gazebos!"  You yell angrily and throw the bottle onto the floor.  "They're bullshit!"

Your mother looks down at the pills and back at you.  "They help you, Eddie. I had to protect you."  She claims.

You realize in that moment that everything your mother has taught you is bullshit.  "Protect me? By lying to me? By keeping me locked inside this hellhole?! I'm sorry, but the only people that were actually trying to protect me were my friends. And you made me turn my back on them when I really needed them. So I'm going."   You tell her and run right past her, out the door.

She follows you, ordering you to come back, then begging and pleading.

You look back at her only long enough to say "Sorry, mom, I gotta go save my friends!"  In that moment, you don't feel weak at all.  You feel strong enough to kill a clown-monster.  Because your friends are worth it.




[There is a single text message from Eddie.]

I know the word is placebos now.

Comments

[threeisapattern]

[Ah, shit. Stiles recognizes this kid from his semi-successful attempt at being a responsible heroic person last swear-in. And he feels like he should say something, but he's not really sure what to say. Fuck, he's still recovering from his own involuntary memory share.]

Sorry. This sucks.

[germhating_hypochondriac]

It really does.

[It wasn't the worst memories that were shared.  If it wasn't for the gazebos mistake, he might even be proud of the second memory.  But still..]

These swear in people have to learn to do safety checks, to keep out monsters and that private shit is private!

[threeisapattern]

Or stop having them. Or stop going to them cause right now it just feels like a safety risk.

[Anyway. He switches to private for this next part.]

I know we don't really know each other but you doing okay?

[germhating_hypochondriac]

There are a lot of safety risks in this world.

Private

Yeah, I'm okay.  Those weren't the worst memories.  Just embarrassing.

private

[threeisapattern]

they didn't seem embarrassing to me. just something you probably didn't want everyone to see.

private

[germhating_hypochondriac]

I should have stood up for my friends the first time.

[threeisapattern]

oh dude, no one’s gonna judge you for that. I don’t know the whole story but it looks like you had some serious bullshit to work through there.

private text;

[thecacophony]

[Sure, this whole stolen-memory business is enough to make anyone angry, but taking things from the younger imPorts just grinds her gears that much more. Especially when it's one she recognizes. When that fear and isolation turns to a boy's tears, there's something just familiar enough about it that makes her turn away.]

You doing alright?

private text;

[germhating_hypochondriac]

[He's utterly embarrassed by the memories and scared that more memories will show up.  Or worse, that the clown himself will suddenly appear - as if he could be summoned by the memories.  He can't admit that to the cool flying, magic lady.]

I'm okay.

[thecacophony]

[Shit, she doesn't have a whole lot of experience in consoling people. Ruining someone's day and causing things to explode? Well, sure. Sal only wishes she had some kind of instinct for this sort of thing instead.]

This whole mess is a bunch of birdshit right now, but I'm sure it'll blow over before you know it.

Anyway, I'm sure there's more people out there who need saving, or some shit. You need some kind of distraction, I'm sure we could cook up something.

[germhating_hypochondriac]

Yeah, and then we'll have some other kind of shit to deal with. 

[Eddie reads and re-reads the text.She saw him being a crybaby, saw his own mother calling him weak and delicate and sick, all his worst fears about himself.] 

You'd really want to let me help again?

[thecacophony]

Why the fuck wouldn't I? It seemed to work out before, and if I go out and try to do that hero shit again, it's better to have a partner to guide me in the right direction.

[She considers that memory again. That minder, who couldn't really be called a "mother" in her opinion, locking him up like he's not even a person. No freedom, no choice.]

Of course, if that's what you want, we'd probably have to work out a better system somehow. Because while I'm sure flying around with me while I'm beating the shit out of some criminals or whatever is fun, there's some chance it could turn bad real fast.

[germhating_hypochondriac]

The memories, especially the first one, made me look a like a wuss. 

[He's weak, he's small, he's sick.  He can think of so many reasons, all the bullshit that his mother made him believe and that still feels real.  There's no friend on the line now, no personal motivation that's stronger than his fears.] 

Maybe there's a way I could give you directions over this communicator thing.  As long as I can go with you if Richie is ever in trouble again.

action bc they’re prob in the same room

[measuringdicks]

[Richie takes a little bit longer grabbing snacks from the fridge than he usually does, but when he does he’s carrying a frankly gigantic bag of cheesy potato chips. This, he puts into Eddie’s lap, and then he flops down next to him, all awkward, gangly limbs.]

I saw. [There’s an apologetic note to his voice. He hadn’t meant to.] That was really fucking ballsy.

[His fingers are barely inches from Eddie’s. It’s a lot.]

action

[germhating_hypochondriac]

[Eddie looks at Richie.  If anyone else had said he was ballsy, he wouldn't have believed them.] 

I barely remember it.  [He admits softly.]  I just remember that Bev, and all of you needed me. 

[He opens the bag, takes a few chips for himself and holds the bag out for Richie to take some.] 

I can be brave when I'm being brave for my friends.

[measuringdicks]

Dumbass. [Richie’s voice is fond, even as his hand lightly smacks against Eddie’s shoulder.] You’re braver than you think.

[Much braver than Richie himself, terrified of something inside himself that he can’t help. Less terrified now, but still—he can’t tell Eddie. Not yet.]

You got a magic flying lady to fly you to a ship that kept spawning monsters and you didn’t even piss your pants. That’s fucking brave if you ask me.

[germhating_hypochondriac]

[Eddie scowls and rubs his shoulder, then a smile appears on his face for a second] 

[He shakes his head, in denial that he could be brave.  The Eddie that stood up to his mother feels almost like another kid entirely.] 

That wasn't being brave.  The idea of you never being able to feel again was scarier than fighting the monsters. That's all. And I like my pants.

[measuringdicks]

I think we've got very different definitions of bravery then, because to me that was brave. Fucking nuts, 'cause of the magic flying chick, [and what a mess their lives have become that Richie can say "magic flying chick" with a straight face,] but brave, too.

[He pauses a moment. Then adds:] And imagine how gross you'd feel if you had to fight monsters with piss running down your leg.

[germhating_hypochondriac]

It would have been more nuts without her!  It'd been batshit to just walk into the monster crowd.  [About as crazy as walking into Pennywise's lair and they'd all done that for Bev.] 

[He makes a face.]  Ew!  Gross!  That's as bad as grey water. 

text;

[pullsheavendown]

I know it's none of my business and you didn't mean for people to see any of that stuff
But for what it's worth
You seemed really brave going to help your friends

text;

[germhating_hypochondriac]

Thanks.
I felt brave then.
My friends are braver, 'cause they're brave all the time.

text;

[pullsheavendown]

I dunno
I think it might be harder to be brave if you're not used to doing it

Re: text;

[germhating_hypochondriac]

It is hard.
A lot of people don't get that.

text;

[pullsheavendown]

A lot of people never stop to think about what it's like to be different.

text;

[germhating_hypochondriac]

The people in Derry were like that. Anyone that was different got bullied.