Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Eddie…"

There was no hesitation, no masks, no walls up on either side. Patricia didn't think she had ever seen anyone quite as broken as the boy sitting in the room she had just shut herself into. She had had to close the door to this office behind her so many times before in her career at Creepy Towers but she knew as soon as she had bolted down the hall in this direction that it was never going to feel the same way in here ever again.

Eddie had nearly toppled her over when he flung himself into her arms at the first sound of her voice. He had been sobbing here in his dad's chair for likely longer than she wanted to think about just going by the short glimpse she got of his red eyes meeting hers.

The fact that they hadn't been speaking much in the last few days since she'd told him she loved him was the farthest thing on either of their minds at the moment. But the part of her that doesn't think, the part that just feels, desperately wishes she could say it now. It feels like the only thing she knows how to say that's not going to be wrong.

She ran her hands down the hair at the nape of his neck as his sobs wrecked down her body where it met his. The collar on her shirt was quickly growing damp and now, so were her eyes as she listened to Eddie coughing and panting to try to catch his breath against her neck.

She couldn't say it, wouldn't say it. Not even if she could find her voice. But she was screaming it over and over in her head on a loop, "I hate this, I love you." "Breathe, I love you." "I will make it stop, please, I love you."

"She's sick, Yacker," he finally manages to whisper. And it makes her queasy the way he has to gasp in so much more oxygen than it should've taken to say it, like the very admission itself knocked every last molecule of air right out of him.

"I know," she pulls him closer, trying to ground the both of them. It doesn't fix anything but it's the only thing she knows how to do. The walls feel like they're expanding away from them at the same moment it feels like their feet are rooting down into the small space of floor they're sharing, sinking into, even.

Everything is too quiet. Everything is too loud. The sunlight is too cheerful coming through the window and there's a horrible taste in her mouth. Maybe it's actual bile at this point. Empathy is a powerful thing, but "please God, let this be another nightmare, I love you." is a whole other beast.

"Mom's sick."

"I know," she sniffles into his shoulder, she can't fall apart if she's going to hold Eddie together.

"That call— This email— I—"

"I know, Eddie, I know. Just breathe, okay?"

"Pardon the interruption," Mr. Sweet began from the doorway of their classroom. "I need to speak with Patricia Williamson in my office, it's a matter of most importance. Oh, bring your things along with you, Patricia."

She scoffed even as she collected everything while she stood from her chair, "No way! We all know what happened the last time you said that."

"Patricia, please." The stern tone he had taken began to break into something far more desperate as he repeated, "This is an important matter."

"Ok, fine. But whatever it is, I didn't do it, I swear! Maybe Piper is creeping around again…" he didn't meet her eyes as he gestured her into the hallway, "Are you okay?"

Mr. Sweet had bowed his head and closed his eyes and she finally noticed that the way he was carrying himself was off…it felt stiff…tense?

"Come," was the only response she got as he took a wrong turn.

"Where are we going? Your office is the other way," her voice was starting to get panicked and she's tense now too, "If I see Victor, I'll scream! You know I'll scream—"

"Patricia!" He stopped her, sounding angry again. "Enough! Make haste, we're going to the lounge first."

He continued down the hallway, even as she stood frozen in place. She watched as his shoulders finally sagged as he pushed open the double doors and that was what compelled her to finally trust him in this situation. Something was wrong, it had to be. Where was Eddie? When was the last time she saw him today? Her heart sank.

"What's wrong, Mr. Sweet? Where's Eddie?" her voice sounded borderline hysterical at this point. He needed to spill it, NOW.

"Edison is in my office. Wait—" he stopped her as she turned and prepared for them to head that direction next. "I understand he's been ignoring calls from his mother, did you know about that?"

Patricia's concern was slowly feeding into the flames of a building inferno. Was she really getting pulled out of class and scared to death just to rat out the boyfriend she wasn't even really speaking to at the moment? The men in this family! Unbelievable!

"No matter, that's not important." Sweetie's voice was getting smaller and weaker the longer he spoke. "I, too, missed a few of her calls this morning during class. When an email from her came through to my inbox for the both of us, I pulled Edison immediately."

Mr. Sweet grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket and, oh no…was he crying?

"Mr. Sweet, what's going on? You're scaring me, you've got to tell me what's going on!"

Patricia could feel the anxiety tingling down her body. The air was growing hotter but only in her immediate bubble. Her textbook was suddenly too heavy. Left in the dark much longer and she was going to make a run for it or she was going to have a panic attack…whichever one came first.

"Miss Williamson, Eddie's mother received some news this week and it sounds ominous. There are still options but—"

Her things fell from her arms into the nearest chair and she took off running as soon as she heard him utter the words "It's stage—"

A/N: After rereading this story 11 years later, and tweaking just a few words in it I knew exactly what this story was and how I felt about it. Life really comes at you fast, huh? Don't know that I will continue it from here either (this was supposed to be a one-shot lol). But I'll see you when I see you, I guess.