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Swallow The Moon	By : GhostHelwig Category: +1 through F > Ed, Edd, and Eddy Views: 9539 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Ed Edd and Eddy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer – I do not own or profit from Ed, Edd N Eddy or “Crucify.” The Eds belong to the Cartoon Network, the song belongs to Tori Amos.
Thanks once more to darthelwig for the inspiration; without her this would’ve remained a one-shot and I would be a much happier person.
Rated R for somewhat graphic violence and naughty language (as well as sexual situations in earlier chapters). A Warning – this chapter contains some very bigoted words. I do not condone bigotry of any kind, which is one reason why it’s portrayed here. So never say you weren’t warned. And as I’m sure you know by now, this story is slash.
Unless I missed something, all the Ed/Eddy quotes in this one are actually mine. Odd, isn’t it? The memory of Jimmy isn’t mine, though; it took place in the episode called “If It Smells Like An Ed...”, the one where the Eds are framed. And please, I don’t own the Eds but I do own the story, so no stealing, ‘kay? Many thanks. Now, on to the tale. Peace, all.
Dirty Streets
It was going to rain. Double D lay on the ground, staring up at the gray, cloudy sky, and he knew. While he waited for the first fat, sparkling drops to touch his thirsting skin, he remembered how he’d gotten here.
“Every finger in the room is pointing at me.”
Laughter. That always came first. All of them laughing, laughing at him, laughing as Kevin called him a fag and a queer and joked about the way he’d flirted with him at the party. The party that had ruined his life, and Kevin joked about it, like it was nothing, like it was funny.
For a second, he finally fully understood why Eddy hated Kevin so very much.
“I wanna spit in their faces...”
And his disgust must’ve shown in his face, in his eyes. Eddy had told him once, “Monobrow can barely read picture books and even he can read your eyes, Double D.” Double D had been quietly flattered but politely disbelieving. Now, with the way Kevin was looking at him, glaring at him, he knew Eddy had been right. He was an open book-
And Kevin was obviously not liking what he read on the first page.
“...then I get afraid of what that could bring.”
But even though Double D was furious and hurting and fed up with the way he was being treated, manners and training and innate kindness won out. Add on to that the fact that he was far from stupid, and there was absolutely no way he would give in to the rebellious, slightly vindictive turn of his usually pure thoughts.
But he didn’t have to, because Kevin already knew.
“I got a bowling ball in my stomach.”
His nerves started clanging at the darkness in Kevin’s gaze. This was bad. All his instincts told him that this was really, really bad.
“I got a desert in my mouth.”
He wanted to talk, to stutter out his nervousness as he customarily did, but he couldn’t speak. Not that it mattered – he knew Kevin would not be deterred from his current path, whatever it might be.
“Figures that my courage would choose to sell out now.”
As Kevin advanced on him, he was strangely glad that he couldn’t form any words, for he knew he was perilously close to begging. Something in Kevin’s demeanor frightened him beyond rational thought. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but whatever it was was dark, and dirty.
“I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets.”
He glanced around quickly, searching out help, support. Jonny wouldn’t look at him, and turned Plank’s face away. Jimmy stared in open, wide-eyed awe, and it was impossible to tell whether he was shocked and horrified or simply perversely fascinated. Rolf stood not far from Kevin, his wide mouth twisted as though words struggled to come out against his will. He knew that none of the three would lift a finger in his defense. For whatever their reasons, they all stood against him.
In a sense, it was just him and Kevin alone in the lane, with him banking on Kevin’s mercy to save him.
Too bad Double D wasn’t sure Kevin actually possessed any mercy.
“Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets.”
He wondered where the girls were, why Jimmy was here without Sarah, why Kevin was here without Nazz. He wondered why Kevin was studying him the way he was instead of just punching him.
He wondered if Ed and Eddy, wherever they were, would hear him screaming.
“I’ve been raising up my hands...”
Kevin was speaking again, but though Double D heard him his words skittered by before he could catch their meaning. Not that it mattered, really. All the words Kevin said to him were superimposed with Eddy’s voice. When Kevin called him a fag Double D heard Eddy calling him a fag but really calling him a whore. Nothing Kevin said could cause more pain than that.
“Drive another nail in.”
But it seemed Kevin was more than willing to try. His words weren’t garnering a response of any kind, so he quickly moved on to another tactic.
“Just what God needs...”
Wearing a cocksure leer, Kevin reached behind Double D to cup his butt in both his hands and pull him closer. “Like that, dork?” he hissed.
“One more victim.”
Double D thought of Eddy. How hurt Eddy had been when he let Kevin put his hands on him in much less intimate places.
“Why do we crucify ourselves?”
How if he’d just paid more attention at the party a month ago, if he’d just known more, he would’ve politely asked Kevin to stop.
“Every day.”
How betrayed Eddy must’ve felt, how he was the one responsible for Eddy’s pain.
“I crucify myself.”
He thought of his own exacting standards for perfection, and how he never seemed to live up to them.
“Nothing I do is good enough for you.”
He thought of all his flaws, his weaknesses, of all the times he’d screwed up or failed or lost his courage.
“Crucify myself.”
He thought of every time he felt he had ever let someone else down.
“Every day.”
He thought of how brutal his life could be, how brutal he could be to himself. How Eddy, the person he had betrayed the most, seemed to be the only one who could see that.
“I crucify myself.”
He thought about how Eddy used to smile whenever he entered his room. (Two weeks gone, his mind supplied. Two weeks gone.)
“My heart is sick of being...”
He thought about how much he really, really hated having Kevin’s hands on him.
“I said my heart is sick of being in chains.”
Double D drew back his hand and punched Kevin as hard as he possibly could.
“Oh... Chains.”
To his utter surprise he was released, and Kevin stumbled backwards, holding his jaw. But within moments Kevin had recovered, and was glaring daggers at him.
“Got a kick for a dog beggin’ for love.”
Double D knew he should run, he knew Kevin was going to beat him, but instead of his feet preparing to flee he felt his mouth opening to apologize. He never got a chance to deliver his apology, however; he was grabbed from behind, his arms wrenched painfully before they were pinned to his sides by a rough, unbreakable grip.
“I gotta have my suffering so that I can have my cross.”
He knew who held him so still, who was holding him in place for a now-smiling Kevin. He heard sneakered feet pounding pavement, and knew that Jonny was doing what he should’ve done and running. He wouldn’t get help, but at least he wouldn’t be watching. He and Plank would be somewhere safe when the true evil began, and Double D was absurdly grateful for that.
“I know a cat named Easter...”
Kevin stood in front of him, and with his bloody lip it was impossible to discern if he was leering at him lustily or sneering at him disgustedly. Double D was betting on the latter, and his mind prepared itself for the coming pain by disconnecting, seeking out a safer thing to think about.
Ed. He was safe. Despite his blundering and the outrageous situations he brought along with him, Double D always felt safe in his warm, loveable presence.
“He says, ‘will you ever learn?...’”
Ed had told him once, “you can’t be nothin’ if you got somethin,’ Double D,” and though Double D doubted he’d meant it as something deep and meaningful Double D had always found comfort in those remembered words. For a boy whose sense of self-worth often teetered on the edge of despair due to extreme loneliness, the thought that simply having something to call his own (his friends, for instance, or even his own undeniable intelligence) gave him worth was a surprising comfort.
“’You’re just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird.’”
But he’d lost it all, lost everything that truly mattered; he’d given it all up when he gave up Eddy. What were you, what did you become, if you had something, something beautiful and special and precious and rare, and you gave it away?
“I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets.”
The first punch caught him off-guard. His body snapped back into Rolf’s as Kevin’s fist connected with his belly, knocking the breath out of him.
“Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets.”
In his mind he called and called for Eddy. Whenever he was suffering he always called out to Eddy. It was an instinct that went deeper than any other, deeper than his blood and bones and skin.
“I’ve been raising up my hands...”
He tried to raise his arms to protect himself, but Rolf’s grip on his upper arms prevented him from doing so. His struggles caused the strangest look to enter Kevin’s eyes, but even without the distraction of being terrified and beaten he wouldn’t have been able to identify what that look meant.
“Drive another nail in.”
“Kevin,” he gasped. “Don’t. Please-“
His words made Kevin’s eyes darken, and Double D thought he’d even flinched. But then Kevin’s fist smashed into his stomach yet again.
“Got enough guilt to start my own religion.”
The most intolerable part was, Double D felt responsible for this, for all of this. If he hadn’t let Kevin flirt with him at the graduation party, if he hadn’t left Eddy (two weeks, the obscene countdown in his mind reminded him, two weeks gone), if he hadn’t been dumb enough to hit Kevin, none of this would’ve happened, none of it would be happening at all.
“Why do we crucify ourselves?”
Part of him wanted to scream, to cry, to beg for leniency, but he didn’t have the air.
“Every day.”
Part of him wanted to whisper, to sob, to beg for forgiveness, but he hadn’t the air for that, either.
“I crucify myself.”
Absolutely all of him wanted to whimper, to weep, to be back in Eddy’s arms being held and treasured and made breathless in only the best way, the way only Eddy could render him breathless.
“Nothing I do is good enough for you.”
But he was here, now, and getting to Eddy’s room was an impossible dream, a whimsical fantasy he couldn’t have indulged even if he was completely whole and healthy and free.
And as he gazed with half-blinded eyes at Kevin, he knew those were not words he would ever take lightly again.
“Crucify myself.”
Another punch to the gut. If Rolf hadn’t been holding him he knew he would’ve doubled over from the pain. As it was, all he could do was gasp for air and pray, Rolf’s calloused fingers digging into his sensitive flesh almost as painful as Kevin’s repeated punches.
“Every day.”
He couldn’t look at Kevin anymore, couldn’t bear seeing the condemnation and bitter victory in the eyes of someone he’d always thought would never go quite this far, so he turned his face away. His desperate gaze landed on Jimmy.
“I crucify myself.”
Those blue eyes stared in his with not even a hint of embarrassment or shame – or sympathy. With Jimmy’s odd sense of vengeance (Double D had forgiven but never forgotten Jimmy selling him and his friends out to the Kanker sisters in retaliation for a wedgie only delivered by one of them), doubtless he thought Double D deserved all the punishment he was receiving at Kevin’s hands.
“My heart is sick of being...”
Double D watched him now, watched the unforgiving eyes, the utter indifference in the face of his overwhelming pain. He watched and watched until he saw what he needed to see.
Jimmy’s pale lips curved upwards into the smallest of smiles.
“I said my heart is sick of being in chains.”
Something inside Double D snapped painlessly. He turned new eyes back to Kevin.
“Oh... chains.”
When Kevin moved to hit him again Double D tilted his head back, aimed-
And managed to spit a disturbing combination of blood and saliva into Kevin’s eyes.
“Please be...”
Kevin stopped, shocked. Even Rolf gasped, his fingers digging ever deeper.
And Jimmy, the person Double D had really wanted to spit on, met his challenging gaze with a broad, smug leer of a smile.
“Save me...”
Double D smiled, helplessly, a panicked little grin. Now he was going to get it. Kevin was going to kill him.
He hoped Eddy showed up to his funeral.
“I cry.”
Some of his spit began dripping down Kevin’s cheeks, leaving obscene little perversions of tear-tracks of crystal and crimson on his flushed skin. Finally, Kevin’s eyes glittered so darkly that Double D’s aching guts quivered with fear, and with a vicious sneer Kevin began wiping at his eyes.
“Looking for a savior in these dirty streets.”
Once he was clean enough Kevin leaned in uncomfortably close to Double D, leaving scant space between their faces. Staring directly in Double D’s eyes he whispered menacingly, “I hope you enjoyed that, Double Dweeb.”
“Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets.”
Double D quailed beneath the force of his fury. He had just enough time to wonder how much Kevin would hurt him when a fist smashed into his tender flesh again.
“I’ve been raising up my hands...”
And again.
“Drive another nail in.”
And again.
“Where are those angels...”
Unaware that he was doing it aloud, the pain caused Double D to scream for Ed and Eddy.
But they didn’t come.
“...when you need them?”
Kevin hit him again, and Double D retched uncontrollably, spitting pure crimson blood onto the ground, splattering his own shoes and Kevin’s.
“Why do we crucify ourselves?”
Some drops had spattered on Kevin’s hand, and he paused to wipe them off on his green shirt. Double D barely noticed; his vision kept blurring, warping. He knew he might pass out soon, but he was afraid of what would happen to him if he did.
“Every day.”
The coppery taste of blood in his mouth made him nauseous, and the nausea made him cough up even more blood. It was not a cycle Double D saw ending well.
“I crucify myself.”
I deserve this, he thought bitterly. Only it should be Eddy here hitting me, not Kevin.
He gulped, closed his eyes briefly to hold in tears. Oh Eddy.
“Nothing I do is good enough for you.”
But Eddy would never do this to him, no matter how badly he’d screwed up. Eddy might hit him in anger, might hurt him in rage, but this he would never do. He’d never go this far.
“Crucify myself.”
This was too far. Did Kevin even realize what he was doing? He had to not know, to be too angry to be aware.
“Every day.”
“P-please,” Double D rasped, drops of blood pooling in the corners of his mouth. “Please-“
“I crucify myself.”
He didn’t think Kevin would reply. But he stepped even closer and grabbed Double D’s shirt. At least it’s already red, Double D’s dazed brain thought numbly. It’s so hard to get out bloodstains.
“My heart is sick of being...”
“I used to think you might be alright if you got away from Dork and especially Dorky,” Kevin hissed directly into his face. “But it turns out you’re the biggest Dork of ‘em all.”
“I said my heart is sick of being in chains.”
No need to ask Kevin why; Double D knew what made him the ‘biggest dork.’ That odd need for rebellion stirred in him for the third and final time. He steadied himself, drew in all the strength he’d need to say what he had to without faltering. Very softly he spoke.
“Oh... chains.”
“Did you know, Kevin, that it’s the biggest homophobes who turn out to be the biggest closeted homosexuals?”
“Why do we...”
Impact.
“Chains...”
Double D slammed back into Rolf, choking on his own blood and a dire need for oxygen.
“Crucify ourselves.”
He could feel someone smiling at him, at his pain. When he could think again, he wished Jimmy would go away.
“Every day.”
Rolf said something, but the ringing in Double D’s head was too loud for him to catch a word. Later he would come to believe that Rolf had asked Kevin to stop, because even though he could feel Kevin’s rage he did not get hit again... Not immediately.
“Chains...”
His eyes were rolling. He couldn’t seem to stop them. Focusing hurt, but when Kevin roughly grabbed his chin and wrenched his head around he forced himself to look straight into Kevin’s dark eyes, just as he so obviously wanted.
“In chains...”
“You listen to me, Eddward,” Kevin growled into his face, his hot breath feeling oddly nice against Double D’s heated, aching skin. “I am no faggot. And if you ever call me one again...”
“Never going back again...”
He’d trailed off, but even though Double D felt light-headed and faint he knew what Kevin left unsaid. It was a good thing that Kevin gripped his jaw so tightly, because Double D was torn between nodding his understanding – and laughing.
“To crucify myself again you know...”
Just for good measure – or perhaps to further drive home his point – Kevin slugged him in the stomach with one tightly clenched fist one last time.
“Never going back again...”
Rolf let him go, and without his support Double D slumped bonelessly to the ground.
“To crucify myself.”
Remembering had helped, brought his swimming mind back into some semblance of focus. He stared up at the sky, watching as its tears began to fall.
Double D stayed lying down on the ground as the crystal drops fell all around him in a slowly accelerating pace. Finally he licked a single raindrop off his bloody lip; it tasted like blood, his blood, yet it was almost fresh, almost sweet... He murmured to himself.
“Every day.”
“I knew it would rain.”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Swallow The Moon