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The Ed Who Played with Fire	By : Aspergirl Category: +1 through F > Ed, Edd, and Eddy Views: 3989 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ed, Edd, & Eddy. No money or profit was made from this fiction.

Chapter List
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BASH! The human battering ram burst through the heavily fortified door to Eddy's brother's room. Ed skidded to a stop in the middle of the room and resembled bold Lothar the Berserker. Eddy's brother, who was running his hands across Double D's body, looked up in confusion as splinters from the door rained down. Double D's face was buried in his hands, but when he looked up to see Ed standing tall and bold and Eddy appearing where the door had been, Double D brushed aside his guilt and was relieved to see his pals. Though he wished that they couldn't see him just yet.
Eddy's brother gulped down the rest of his beer and sneered at Ed and Eddy. “So, you guys here for more?” said Eddy's brother, using the remote on his keychain to pop open his car's trunk, revealing a grand collection of magazines. “Grab whatcha need... for a nominal fee,” Eddy's brother sighed, running a hand up Double D's bare thigh. His tear-stained face going scarlet, Double D grabbed for his sleeper to cover himself.
“Not interested,” snarled Eddy, emphatically. “Let 'im go.”
“Too late, Pipsqueak. I been havin' some fun with your girlfriend here. I've had better, but I gotta say you found yourself a little freak.” Eddy's brother made a move to touch Double D again.
Eddy dashed for the edge of the bed until his face was up against his brother's. He definitely did not feel as small as he was. “Touch him and I'll...”
“You'll what?” taunted his brother.
Before he could think twice, Eddy slugged his brother in the chin. “Motherfucker!” bellowed Eddy's brother, reeling in shock more than pain. Eddy had stood up to him once. It was unbelievable to him that Eddy would have the balls to do it twice. Eddy's brother sat up and rubbed his jaw. Double D held a hand up to his mouth to cover a hint of a smile. Glaring back and Ed and Eddy, Eddy's brother growled, “So this is how we're playin'. Fine.” Eddy's brother dug his nails into the back of Double D's neck and heaved him onto the floor. “There's your little slut back. Now we're even.”
“Not quite,” Eddy seethed, grasping his brother's tee shirt.
Ed grabbed hold, too. His big hands were more powerful than Eddy's brother expected. But the one-time dictator of the cul-de-sac was shaken when Ed jumped up, his feet landing on Eddy's brother's stomach. With the wind knocked out of Eddy's brother, Ed grasped the man's sideburns, and blared as loudly as he could, “HORRIBLE FATE!!!”
Even though Ed's mind worked in mysterious ways, Eddy and Double D knew that one thing was certain. If the normally affable Ed's rage was triggered, the instigator was really in for it. Ed's morning breath combined with the force of the yell was enough to paralyze Eddy's brother. Ed ripped open Eddy's brother's tee shirt, although in his eyes, he was disemboweling a zombie. Ed then administered the fiercest purple nurples he could, just as he learned from the Kanker sisters – the hard way.
While Ed scuffled with Eddy's brother, whose shock was wearing off and who was now fighting to peel Ed away, Eddy climbed aboard the heater to reach his brother's prized possessions on the high shelf. His hand brushed against the clumsily taped gold trophy. Eddy grabbed the trophy and crept up behind the bed. Eddy's brother got an arm free from Ed and picked up the empty beer bottle, plotting to split Ed's skull with it. Before he could, Ed sank his teeth into Eddy's brother's free arm. Eddy raised up the trophy and smashed it against the side of his brother's head. The stem broke, and Eddy tossed it aside.
Dizzy, but angrier than ever, Eddy's brother flew at Eddy, who scrambled up the stuffed camel and began to pummel his brother with anything he could get his hands on. Eddy's brother grabbed the camel's legs and prepared to shake Eddy down. Ed jumped on his back and grasped Eddy's brother's scalp. “I'd kill you if you weren't already dead, zombie!” Ed announced and shoved Eddy's brother's face right into an armpit equipped with three weeks worth of unwashed stench.
“Nnnngh gmmmmfff!” Eddy's brother's protest was muffled. His arms thrashed, but blinded by Ed's pit and its overpowering odor, his retaliation was worse than useless. Eddy jumped down from the camel, landing right on his brother's chest. With the wind knocked out of him, Eddy's brother was forced to take in another great whiff of the armpit.
Now that Eddy had a chance to really process what his brother had been doing, Eddy was repulsed, barely able to look at him. Years of taking what his brother dished out came to a head. Eddy kicked his brother in the stomach with all the force he had. Again. And again. He grabbed the beer bottle and pounded his brother with it until it broke. “Who's a pipsqueak now, bro? Huh?” Eddy grabbed the shards of the bottle, taking no notice of how they sliced up his hands, and dragged them across his brother's flesh.
Eddy's brother freed himself from Ed's armpit, but he could see that he was fighting a losing battle. “Okay, okay, lay off pi-- uh, Eddy. I'll buzz off.”
Eddy did not budge. “If you meet our demands, we'll let you go.”
Rolling his eyes, but ready to be done with the venture, Eddy's brother relented. “A'ight. Whaddaya want?”
Ed spoke, or rather, shouted first. “WHERE'S PHILLIP?”
“What the f-”
“The bottlecap,” interrupted Eddy.
“In my jacket.”
Ed grabbed the jacket and rummaged through it, calling, “Speak to me, Phillip!” Ed's expression softened as he retrieved the smiling bottlecap from a pocket. “Aww, you missed me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ed spotted the bottlecap from Eddy's brother's beer. He picked it up and held them up together. “Aren't we a wonderful family, Eddy?”
Before his brother could weasel out of making complete restitution, Eddy continued the demands. “All my stuff back, with interest.” Ed held up Eddy's brother's jacket, turned it upside down, and sure enough, a pile of Eddy's belongings formed on the floor. In the pile were other items of interest, just as Eddy had hoped, like a monogrammed flask and Eddy's brother's dislodged gold tooth. Wanting to be sure that his brother understood the gravity of the exchange, he added, “My keys.” Eddy's brother grudgingly handed them over. Eddy twirled them and stuffed them in a pocket.
“That it?” asked Eddy's brother.
“One more thing,” said Eddy. He pulled his brother's ear close to his mouth and added, “Lay a finger on Double D again, and you'll be wearing your dick for a necktie.”
“I got it,” said Eddy's brother resentfully, shoving Eddy aside. He got up, dusted himself off, and dressed quickly. Once at the hole where the door had been, he looked back at Ed and Eddy, who showed no signs of backing down. He shrugged and disappeared. There were other places he could have his way with greater payoffs and less resistance. Ed and Eddy did not move until they heard the engine of Eddy's brother's car turn on and then fade away into the distance.
Worn out but victorious, Ed and Eddy bumped fists. They dared to dream that Eddy's brother, self-appointed dictator of the cul-de-sac had been deposed for good. Ed and Eddy began to scoop up Eddy's collection, but then Eddy remembered Double D. He left Ed to return the loot to its rightful place and looked for the most important part of the deal.
His heart stopped when he saw the blood on the bed. Eddy forgot his collection, and even forgot Ed. He was terrified to learn what had become of Double D, and he didn't care who knew it. “Double D? Where are ya, man?” The room was destroyed, but Eddy ploughed tirelessly through the debris. Going quiet, Eddy knelt on the floor beside the bed and lifted up the blanket that draped to the floor. There, amidst the magazines and clothes was Double D, lying curled up on his side. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was motionless except for his little sides heaving.
“Hey, come on out,” Eddy began, reaching out to Double D.
Double D opened his eyes. With the light of the room at Eddy's back, his face was obscured, and all Double D could see was the malevolent older sibling. Double D recoiled from Eddy and held out his arms. “In the name of all things decent, don't come any closer!”
There was a time when Eddy enjoyed riding on his brother's coattails to instill fear in the cul-de-sac kids. That was over. Double D's fear and pain was the ultimate price for using his brother to garner “respect” and fulfill some whims. “Double D, it's Eddy. Please come out,” coaxed Eddy. “Please.”
Double D took a good look at the silhouette before him. It was Eddy, alright. And hearing the vulnerability in Eddy's voice calmed Double D. Double D backed up further until he emerged on the opposite side of the bed. He rose slowly to his feet, so as not to trigger any excess pain. Eddy rose too, and they regarded each other from across the bed. Double D saw that Eddy was dotted with cuts and bruises, but was otherwise fine. Eddy, victorious over his brother, was a welcome sight to see. Suddenly, Double D remembered his nudity and self-consciously rushed to cover himself.
A little embarrassed as well, Eddy turned away to allow Double D his privacy. He was more concerned about Double D's safety than his body, but Eddy felt a nagging temptation to sneak a covert glimpse of Double D. Still, he kept his eyes focused straight ahead until he heard Double D's reedy voice. Double D picked up the tattered yellow sleeper and tied it around his waist. “You may look.” Eddy did look, but it was not easy. How could he look at his friend, see the blood and bruises, know what had happened behind the locked door, and not show a reaction? If there was a correct response to Double D's condition, Eddy did not know it. A lack of response was not appropriate, either.
After Eddy gave a speechless, sidelong glance at Double D for several seconds, Double D's emotions took over. “Go ahead. Feast your eyes on me. I am damaged property, a disgrace to our friendship. Incapable of saying 'no' to your insidious sibling.” Double D thought of how he had looked at the forbidden adult magazines and had given in to unwanted pleasure when Eddy's brother made him hard. The messy feeling welled up again. “I received no less than I deserve, I suppose. I... I need to wash.” Nothing mattered except getting away.
Running as fast as his short, wobbly legs could carry him, Double D made his way down the hall to Eddy's bathroom with Eddy chasing after him and gaining. “Double D, hold on, that's not what...” Double D made it to the bathroom, shut the door and turned on the shower. Over the water, Double D could hear Eddy's fists beating on the door. “Hey, I just wanna talk...”
Double D whimpered and stepped into the shower, hoping that the stream pouring over his ears would drown out the world beyond the shower's glass walls. He hated that he was still unclothed, but within the confines of the shower, it was acceptable, natural. But his hat remained firmly on his head. In his mind, it was just as contaminated as his body. He washed himself vigourously as he always did, but derived no comfort from it. He scrubbed his skin, delicate as the wings of the butterflies in his collection, until it was all over raw and pink. He just wanted to be clean again.
In the hall, Eddy pulled down the wallpaper that usually obscured his brother's door. He pasted the paper over the door to ensure that the door stayed closed. He looked into his own room. Ed had replaced the music memorabilia on the dresser and was sitting on the floor shoving pork rinds into his mouth and making a necklace out of Phillip and his new bottlecap, to whom he was cooing in low tones, “Awww, Beatrix, you sparkle pretty.”
Eddy was alone. He had kicked out his brother, possibly for good, so Double D wouldn't have to face him. But now his sorry excuse for a brother would never have to own up to what he had done. And Ed. Ed had sought revenge on Double D's captor and got it. But he was content with that and had moved on. He certainly didn't understand what had happened to Double D behind that door. Eddy sat despondent outside the bathroom door. He was determined to wait as long as he had to. "I owe him that much."
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The Ed Who Played with Fire