#also all the losers have carved something into richie desk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

floralbuckley · 5 years

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eddie carving E + R into the kissing bridge right under the R + E and then as adults , them realizing

This started out as someone else request and then kind of slowly turned to this one, but a little different? Also, this took me over a week to write and edit so please be gentle. I hope you all enjoy!

Getting out of the sewers and getting Eddie to the emergency room was the real challenge. After the Losers had all finally seen the existence of Pennywise melt away to nothing, it became a reality to them that, somehow, they needed to haul up Eddie’s body and get him out of there. Sure, he was small, but after the battle, they knew they had limited energy. And they had to use it wisely if they were going to make it out of there alive.

It was Bill who had first posed the question of who would do the honours of carrying Eddie out, and how exactly they would do that.

“I’ll take him,” Richie said without missing a beat, his hand raised up high in the air.

Mike shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Any sane person on earth could take one look at Richie’s distressed and dishevelled appearance and know that he shouldn’t be carrying another human being through these sewers. “Richie, you’re a mess. I’ll do it.”

Despite Mike’s words, Richie began walking towards Eddie in haste and said, “we all know I’m the biggest. It just makes sense. I mean, really, it’s just science.” Mike stepped forward, about to protest once again, but Ben put his arm in front of his chest to hold him back. As Richie put his forearms underneath Eddie’s armpits and slowly lifted him off the ground, his arms began shaking due to Eddie’s beaten up body being so limp. But eventually, somehow, he managed to get one arm under his legs and pick him up bridal style. “Let’s go, Losers.”

When they finally reached the emergency room, the only thing on their minds was Eddie and making sure he got the help he needed. Mike immediately went into leader mode, rushing to the front desk to try and get Eddie into surgery as quickly as possible while Richie stood behind him with Eddie still in his arms. What the losers didn’t really seem to realise was the state that each of them was in, too: blood all over their shirts, cuts on their faces, bruises littering their arms, tear streaks down their faces. But Eddie was their first priority, of course.

Eddie spent several weeks in the hospital after surgery, eating nothing but disgusting jelly and sloppy soup, drinking sour apple juice and watching more daytime television than he’s ever seen in his entire life. If you asked Eddie Kaspbrak who his favourite soap opera character was, he would be more than happy to list all the soaps on Channel 5, plus the 2 on channel 7, then go into great detail about each character from each show long before telling you his favourite.

However, by his side was a person he didn’t expect to stick around.

The other Loser’s practically begged Richie to get some rest or, at the very least, go back to the Derry Town House to have a shower and change his clothes. But Richie refused. He simply needed to stay by Eddie’s side in case any little thing happened.

After a few days had passed and everyone had confirmation that Eddie was okay, it was time for the rest of the group to go back to work, back to their partners, back to their own towns. Except for Richie. Boy, that man was stubborn. Numerous phone calls, angry texts, and livid emails from his manager, and Richie dodged every single one. Eddie was the only thing on his mind right now, and there was no way he was leaving just to go tell jokes on stage.

By the 5th day of sleeping in the uncomfortable vinyl chair in Eddie’s room, and wearing the same clothes from the sewer, Richie eventually went back to the Town House. He showered, grabbed his and Eddie’s suitcases, and bought a sleeping bag for the floor of Eddie’s hospital room. If he had to sleep in that godforsaken chair for one more night, Richie was sure he’d be flying back home on a red-eye that day.

Oh, who was he kidding? Richie would’ve slept on the floor for the rest of his life if it meant he got to stay by Eddie’s side.

It was 3 weeks after Eddie’s surgery, and, really, Eddie should have left last week. He recovered perfectly from surgery, the stitches had been taken out of his cheek, and doctors said he was good to go home. But Eddie refused, too terrified that something would happen the moment he got onto the plane. So, Richie stayed by his side, catering to his every need to make sure that Eddie was as happy as he could possibly be.

It was 4 in the morning, and Richie just simply couldn’t get a wink of sleep. He grabbed his phone from the floor beside him and clicked the lock button, the home screen informing him of the early hour. Richie rustled around in his sleeping bag, attempting to get comfortable against the itchiness of the fabric before he eventually just gave up and got out of the damn thing. He plonked into the visitor chair and looked out the window at Derry’s street lights. He remembered seeing these lights as a boy when he and the losers would go out to the Summer carnival at night, and the entire town would be lit up. It was a sight he hadn’t seen in a very long time, and the memories bought a smile to his face.

“Rich?” Eddie whispered.

Richie jumped a little, not expecting Eddie to be awake at this hour. He turned around to see the smaller boy looking at him, his brown eyes shining in the moonlight.

“Mm, what’s up?” He whispered back with his eyebrows raised.

Eddie shuffled around in his bed as he attempted to make space. He absolutely despised Richie sleeping on the floor. Sure, it was clean and sanitary enough given that they were in a hospital, but god, Eddie couldn’t even begin to imagine how uncomfortable sleeping down there for the last 3 weeks must have been.

“Get in the bed,” he said gently as he gestured his head towards the empty space he had made.

Richie shook his head. “It’s fine, Eddie. You need your space.”

“Richie, get in the bed,” Eddie repeated, his voice no longer a whisper as he rose it to a regular volume. He pulled back the corner of the duvet to show Richie the room he had made for him.

“No, Eds. I don’t want to hurt you or anything,” Richie said as he put his hands up in defence.

Eddie let out a low growl and grumpily patted the empty spot next to him. “Get in the fucking bed, asshole.”

Richie sighed and thought about it for a moment. On the one hand, he really was worried about moving the wrong way and hitting the wound on his cheek or turning over and crashing into his stomach. However, on the other hand, he got to be in bed with Eddie. Of course, it was that thought that won him over. He stood up from the uncomfortable vinyl chair and made his way over to the hospital bed. He slipped a sock-clad foot under the covers first before slowly tucking the rest of his body in. The sheets were warm from where Eddie had just been laying, and after being in them for so long, they also smelt like him: a mixture of soft, just-washed clothes, and freshly cut grass. Richie breathed in the scent as he pulled the duvet up to his chin before turning around to find Eddie looking at him.

Richie lightly chuckled. “Hey,” he whispered. “Can’t sleep, either?”

Eddie shook his head as thought for a minute, his eyebrows furrowing. “I know it’s dead, but I can’t stop thinking about it, Rich.”

Richie snuggled further down into the bed and rubbed his nose against the pillow they were sharing. His soft sweat pants brushing against Eddie’s bare legs sent a chill down his spine as he realised just how close they were to one another. He wasn’t sure where to put his hands, so he let them awkwardly sit in between his and Eddie’s bodies as he thought back to when they had fought Pennywise and all the nightmares that had come afterwards. That demonic face had been taking over almost every thought in Richie’s head for the last 3 weeks, its horrid laugh replaying over and over again.

“Yeah, I know. Me too.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, thinking about the fact that, despite fighting and killing that thing, it was still haunting them weeks later. Eddie hesitantly took a hand out from underneath his head and slid it below the covers until his fingers found Richie’s. Eddie let his fingertips touch Richie’s ever so slightly before allowing them to run down Richie’s fingers and meeting at his palm. Eddie rubbed his knuckles over the inside of Richie’s hand, and it felt as if a swarm of butterflies was erupting within both of them.

Richie couldn’t help but let a smile creep up onto his face at the delicate touch. “What’re you doing, Eds?”

“Rich, I could have died in there,” Eddie started softly. Richie’s collarbones were peeking out from underneath his shirt, and Eddie made a point of staring at them instead of at Richie’s face as he spoke his next words. “It- it made me realise that I can’t keep living a lie, you know?”

Eddie’s eyes stayed away from Richie’s face as Richie processed his words. He understood in every way what Eddie was saying because Richie, too, didn’t want to live this lie anymore. As much as Richie wanted this, as much as his heart pounded inside his chest and his head spun in circles, and his stomach fluttered with butterflies and his skin filled with goosebumps, Richie wasn’t sure he could do this. And although he’d been living with these thoughts inside his mind for the last 28 years, he still didn’t feel ready. No matter how in love with Eddie he was.

Richie pulled his fingers away from Eddie’s and sat up in the hospital bed, and Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. He’d seen Richie’s smile just seconds before, and as he thought more about his actions, Eddie’s smile completely fell from his face. His cheeks were suddenly bright red and burning hot, with the sinking feeling that he’d done something terribly wrong growing in his stomach.

“Yeah, uh-.” Richie didn’t dare look at Eddie’s face. He couldn’t. He got up out of bed quickly and reached for his shoes. “I need some air,” he said hastily as he slipped his arms into his jumper. He pulled his sneakers on and looked around the room for a second – his eyes refusing to meet Eddie’s – then rushed out the door and slammed it shut.

Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach, and for a moment, he sat in his bed as he thought over what had just occurred. He couldn’t let Richie leave. There was no way in hell Eddie was going to let his feelings for Richie ruin what they had. He quickly got out of the bed, grabbed his slippers, and raced out of his room.

“Mr Kaspbrak!” One of the nurses shouted as Eddie rushed down the hallway. “What’re you doing?!”

“Something I need to do before I lose my chance!” Eddie called back.

He continued forward, trying not to run but still going as quickly as he legs – and the nurses – would allow him to. Eddie could only just see Richie ahead of him, but the crowded halls and slippery floors stopped him from getting any closer. He trailed quite far behind, occasionally losing sight of the taller man in between doctors and patients and families, but eventually Eddie came to the exit. He could see Richie across the road, walking quickly with his hands gripped into a fist and his eyes set on the ground below his feet.

Richie, on the other hand, had not a clue that Eddie was following him. There was only one place in this town that Richie was focused on right now. The one spot that would give him the air that he needed, that he craved. He hastily walked, following the path alongside the quarry. His legs moved quickly, and he tucked his hands into his jumper pockets, keeping them tight in a fist. His hair was slightly blowing in the wind, but he didn’t really mind; the fresh air was already clearing his mind with every step he took as he headed for the kissing bridge – a place Richie hadn’t thought about until he set foot in Derry and saw Eddie’s face once again.

As the wind grew stronger, Richie finally reached the bridge. Eddie was hot on his heels as he jogged down the street, a mix of confused thoughts running through his mind. He stayed back for a little, watching as Richie bent down to look at something on the wooden railing. Richie smiled for a second, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his fingers trailed along something on the wood, which he then placed his hand over and bowed his head down.

Eddie slowly began walking forwards.

“Richie?” he asked hesitantly once he was close enough.

Richie jumped slightly at the sound of Eddie’s careful voice, not expecting him to have followed him all the way out there. He shook his head a little to get himself out of his daze, then stood up.

“Ed’s,” Richie said gently. “What’re you doing here?”

Eddie’s hands began to shake, so he shoved them into the pocket of his hoodie and made fists, attempting to calm his nerves. His mind was reeling with so many thoughts, but the biggest one floating around in his mind being how much Richie must hate him right now.

“I just… Wanted to make sure you’re okay?” He asked, his gaze not leaving the road below him. Nerves and the feeling of complete and utter embarrassment were rising up inside him, and Eddie couldn’t name a time where he’d felt more ridiculously stupid than now. Basically confessing to his friend that he’s been living a lie and has feelings for him, making a move, and then following him around town? Eddie didn’t think he’d ever had a bigger facepalm moment in his entire life.

Richie took a moment to consider everything. He thought about the fact that he’s been in the closet for 28 years. That he’s been in love with his best friend for 28 years. That all this time, he’s never truly been able to live his life. Never been able to go on dates or have a relationship or have children. All because he’d hidden behind this mask. A mask that allowed him to do comedy and make up voices and cover up who he truly was. Who he truly is. And as his legs began to feel like jelly, Richie let these thoughts scare him enough into walking over to where Eddie stood. His hands were violently shaking as he tenderly laced his fingers through Eddie’s and dragged him towards the bridge railing.

Eddie’s head was spinning with confusion. And the second that Richie stopped on the bridge and pointed to what he had been looking at, Eddie felt even more confused than before. But one thing he wasn’t confused about was the feeling of Richie’s hand in his. The warm skin and the gentle grip. It was something Eddie had been longing for since they were boys, messing around on the hammock in the clubhouse, or playing dumb games at the arcade. It was a feeling that he knew would be amazing, but now that it was actually happening, and it was reciprocated, it was even better than he had ever imagined it. And boy, had he imagined it. When Eddie was younger, sometimes as he lay in bed, he would interlock his own hands and pretend one was Richie’s just to help him fall asleep.

“What am I looking at?” He asked as he stared at the letters carved into the wooden panel.

“That, Eds, is our initials that I carved 27 years ago,” Richie said, a hint of pride shining through in his voice as he stared at Eddie and continued pointing to the wood. A smile had formed on Richie’s face as his body filled with more confidence.

Eddie stared at the sharp, uppercase “R + E”, still confused with his eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean… 27 years ago?” He asked. He let go of Richie’s hand and bent down to trace the letters, much like Richie had done just several minutes ago.

Richie stayed silent for a while. He was hoping that it would click shortly, and Eddie would understand what he was saying. Watching Eddie as he ran his pointer finger along the indented wood bought a flood of memories back into Richie’s mind. Remembering those times in the clubhouse, or at one of the Loser’s houses, or at the quarry, when Richie would stare at Eddie for so long, no matter what he was doing. His gaze would be so fixated on the smaller boy that hardly anything would be able to snap him out of his love-sick daze.

A particular memory sprung to mind from a time, long ago, when he and Eddie would have sleepovers most weeks. Though the one night Richie was currently recalling was the night that changed everything for him. He remembered sitting on his bed, the blue sheets crumbled and messy as he ran his hands roughly through his dishevelled hair. He was seated crisscrossed on the mattress, watching Eddie dig around in his draw containing his collection of VHS tapes, looking for the perfect film for their movie night.

It wasn’t that Eddie was doing anything in particular to intrigue Richie, but for some reason, as usual, he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the small boy. As Eddie spoke so fast Richie was sure his tongue would fall off, and as he held up tape after tape, putting them neatly in a pile next to him, and as his pastel yellow polo moved with his body and his blue shorts rode a little too far up his thigh, Richie realised it. It was like a light switch had suddenly flicked on inside his mind, and the globe was shining so brightly as everything began falling into place. And it was at that moment that Richie Tozier knew he was in love with Eddie Kaspbrak.

He faded out of the memory to see that Eddie hadn’t moved and was still knelt down in front of the letters, and he smiled as a flood of love and warmth filled his chest. Richie felt like a piece of his heart - a piece that had been dedicated to this man for so long - was starting to melt right then and there.

Richie walked forward and gently placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and the smaller man looked up at him. “Rich,” he said softly as he slowly stood up. A look of wonder and amazement filled Eddie’s eyes as a delicate smile etched itself onto his lips.

Richie let out a gentle chuckle, and the corners of his eye crinkled as he laced his fingers through Eddie’s.

“Eds, it’s you. It’s always been you. I’ve loved you since we were kids and I still do.”

Richie hadn’t felt such a surge of confidence in his entire life, but he knew he wouldn’t ever be able to get this opportunity to tell Eddie how much he truly cared for him. It really was now or never.

Eddie’s spinning head was slowing as his heart grew soft over Richie’s words. He’d longed for the day he heard Richie say those words, and now that the day was finally here, he wanted to take every second to soak it in.

It was now Eddie’s turn for an old memory to return to his conscious. He thought back to when he was 13, the image of him and the Losers at the quarry on a warm Summer’s day filled his mind. He remembered watching the rest of their friends swimming in the water while he and Richie sat on the rocks, tired from playing and splashing around. While Eddie was sitting up, a sandwich in his hand and a towel wrapped around his shoulders, Richie was sprawled out on his towel fast asleep. Eddie’s gaze lingered on the rise and fall of Richie’s bare chest. Lingered on the hand that was placed on his stomach as it moved up and down as he breathed slowly. Lingered on his hair that was blowing gently in the wind and his nose that crinkled every so often. And he lingered on the fact that he was slowly falling in love with every inch of the Trashmouth more and more every day.

After all the Loser’s went their separate ways that day, Eddie headed straight for the kissing bridge. As he walked, he let his fingers drag across the wood until he found an empty spot right at the end. Eddie reached into his backpack and pulled out the pocket knife he had snuck out of Stanley’s bag, bent down, and slowly carved the letters that had been stuck inside his mind for god knows how long. He needed this. Some sort of secret place other than his thoughts where he could keep the idea of him and Richie being together alive.

Eddie smiled at the memory and gripped Richie’s hand tighter, dragging him further down the bridge. Richie’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion until Eddie stopped in his tracks and pointed at another panel of wood.

Richie looked to where Eddie’s gaze was set, and there, etched deep and in lower case letters, was “e + r”. Richie’s eyes grew wide as he stared at the markings and a realisation settled over him. He wanted to reach down and touch the letters, but the feeling of Eddie’s hand in his own - the warm, soft skin that so gingerly held on to Richie’s - stopped him from moving.

“When?” Richie asked, turning back to Eddie. His eyes were shining in the moonlight, much like they had in the hospital room, and Richie didn’t think he had ever seen him look so radiant and stunning, yet so delicate and soft at the same time. He reached out with his free hand and cupped Eddie’s face, rubbing his thumb across his cheek.

Eddie smiled and relaxed into Richie’s touch as he let out a gentle sigh. “27 years ago,” he whispered with a quick shrug, his tone holding a glimmer of irony as he looked down to the ground.

For the first time ever, Richie didn’t have a single word to speak. For the first time ever, he was rendered completely speechless. Because for all these years, as Richie was pining after Eddie day in and day out, stealing glances and hoping and wishing so desperately that Eddie could feel the way he did, Eddie had been doing the exact same thing.

Richie stepped forward and pressed his torso against Eddie’s. He took his hand out of the smaller boys and instead placed it on the other side of his face.

“Richie,” Eddie whispered softly, so low that Richie almost didn’t hear him. Eddie moved his face closer to Richie, their noses touching and their lips ever so gently brushing up against one another as both men tried their best to soak in every second of each other.

“Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie whispered back with a giggle.

“Don’t call me that. I ha-“ Eddie was cut off from finishing his sentence as Richie finally leant forward completely and pushed his lips against Eddie’s, his thumbs brushing against Eddie’s cheeks and his fingers making their way into his hair.

Eddie reacted quickly, grabbing on to Richie’s sides to try and pull him closer. But as desperate as their actions seemed to be, with their hands not knowing where to settle and their tummy’s pressing together more and more with every second that passed, the kiss still felt innocent. Sweet. It was soft and gentle and something that both of them had been waiting so long for. And after 27 years, something they both deserved - a happy ending.

#reddie #richie and eddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 #fanfic #fix it fic #leah writes

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reddogf13 · 5 years

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Covenant ch 12

summery: They did it, IT was left to die alone in the tunnels under Derry. months have passed and the losers thrived after what seems to feel like a curse lifting off the town. if only Beverly had not decided to make a last minute deal with IT on its death bed. will her choice to let IT live destroy all that she holds dear?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Covenant ch 11

next chap: Covenant ch 13

_____________________________________

~ch: 12 Recovery~

“what's happening? Why are you here?!” her chest tightening from fear. Was this a sign she was dying? Was the turtle here to help her along? Maybe he was here instead to help her back? Could he even do either of those?

“my brother tried to care for you. He's not built well to care for things, unfortunately.” the large turtle spoke gently. What he said not easing her thumping heart.

The book she read saying this would happen. The adoptive parent unable to care for its new child. It was a matter of time before something happened between them.

“he really tried easing your sickness, but he knows he cannot fix this. It has gotten too far for him to fight back.” calmly explaining the situation to the sick girl. “I was surprised by him asking me for help.”

“he asked you to heal me?” surprised herself at hearing that.

“yes. An amazing leap for someone who usually despises me the same as humans. I assume your deal went really well since he's grown so attached?”

“yes. ...” swallowing a lump in her throat at the thought of the deals details.

“... don't feel too bad.” the turtle comforted her. Aware of the deal and her actions to set it in stone. “he is right when he says it must be someone. You and me both would rather he not, but it is not possible for him. An unfortunate effect of nature in our world you see.”

“... will he keep his deal?” she asked. Thinking that maybe the turtle could answer.

“he does want to hold the deal for you. Even if he didn't, he has no choice.”

“why?”

“ cosmic beings must be held to their responsibilities. If we weren't our actions would cause much unneeded chaos for everyone in every universe. When he made that deal, he knows very well that breaking it would be death for him.”

“do breaking contracts always mean death when broken? Will all of us die if we break it?”

“no and no. the deal was made to let him live. The deal is now attached to his life. As a cosmic being, it's only so strictly attached to him. Not all of you, which is why he wanted you to tell so badly. Refusing to tell you exactly the reason why. Any of you break the deal and he'll have no leg to stand on in defense.”

“I didn't know that.” guilt stabbing her heart. “no wonder he was so worried about it.”

“he would have never told you. It takes time to get anything out of him, I should know.”

“thank you, for talking with me.”

“no problem. You'll be heading back now.” he smiled lightly.

“wait! Do you know where all the children being stolen are?!”

“no, unfortunately. My view on Derry is limited to the surroundings of my brother. I tried warning you ahead of time when the principal attacked. In case my brother had trouble reaching you in time.”

“warn me?” looking back to that event. She didn't remember ever hearing a warning or a sign- “wait, the carved turtles on the desk.” remembering the image in the wood. Remembering back to another turtle made of chalk. The one that drew her attention to the river. To the drainage pipe leading to IT.

“did you set me up to make a deal with IT?” glaring up at the floating turtle up high.

“I admit I may have suggested you to visit him, but not to make a deal. I had no idea what you would do. I knew he wasn't a threat in his condition and I knew you were a smart girl. I wanted him to have a chance to be happy. You were the perfect one to make it possible.” raising its flippers up in celebration. “now here we are.”

“heh, better not tell him that when I get back … thank you.” she smiled.

“I must warn you. It won't feel like you're better when you wake. Give it an hour to let it catch up.” waving her goodbye. The turtle getting farther away same as all the stars flowing around her. The blackness disappearing to her waking under the covers. Back in ITs nest lightly lit up by the orange glowing wagon. Sitting herself up having her feel the soreness of her body. Aching under the flu attacking her. Coughing out her sore throat when she tried to swallow some spit.

ITs scales flexed forward at the noise. The large insects head swinging around to examine her.

“you're awake!” ITs voice full of relief filled happiness. “how do you feel?”

“still sick, but improving.” smiling despite her voice scratching on her throat like rusty nails. Her smile dropping at the sight of IT. The wheezing of its breath as bad as the day she first made the deal. Limbs shaking to hold itself up. Or limply laying across the bedding.

“are you okay?” Beverly hit by concern asked up to IT.

“I'll be fine.” doing a poor job of lying past its wheezing.

“have you gone out at all since I got sick?”

“... no … I've been keeping your body from wasting away in your sleep. You don't have to worry about anything. The school thinks you're dealing with a family emergency. Your aunt still thinks you've been going to school.” steering the conversation along.

“have you eaten anything?” her voice quiet on the question.

“... not yet. ...” ITs voice the same softness.

“I'll get you someone.” nervous about fetching another meal, but after what IT did. she couldn't allow him to waste away. IT opened its mouth to object. Shutting it at accepting the offer it desperately needed right now. Its condition having been let go far too long to hunt.

“ … Maturin says I'll be better soon.” making sure to let IT know.

the mention of the turtles name souring ITs expression instantly. “how long?” IT asked. A minor growl escaping its throat.

“an hour.” the answer made IT grumble.

“an hour? … lazy turtle could have shortened it … not like he's doing anything else.” grumbling to avoid giving his brother any sort of praise. Attention brought back to Beverly asking him a question.

“what time is it?” the girl having long lost how much time had passed. At least able to guess it was Monday.

“6 in the morning.”

she thought over the timing. “by the time I reach school I'll be fine again.” taking a breath to stand.

“what are you doing? Sit back down!”

“I need to go to school.” she answered.

“you're still sick! Did you completely miss the whole thing of you being on death's door?! Inches from death and you want to go do work?!”

“I've been gone long enough and I need to find … somebody. Besides, I am sure the guys are missing me. Did they ever cause you trouble?”

“yes.” IT growled. “they blamed me for causing your sickened sleep. Tried to take you away to the hospital, but you wouldn't have made it far out of my nest. I had to keep you here to prevent your health from sinking like a rock.”

“it would be better I tell them its not then … I now know your more stuck in this deal then I am … I want to make sure they know you won't be any trouble. Okay?” working to convince IT.

IT grumbled to itself more on the “stupid turtle blabbing”. Sighing a “very well.”

“thank you.” smiling up to IT.

An hour later Bev was making it back to school. Backpack on with an overly huge fresh lunch bag in hand. Despite her saying it wasn't needed IT managed to fetch her a few fresh lunches anyway. A bag filled with 4 full meals that she hadn't been able to check yet.

“Beverly?!” she heard Stan shout. Turning her head to face him had her swarmed by the guys instantly. Receiving all sorts of hugs from each of them.

“wait, how do we know this aint Pennywise messing with us?!” Richie accused.

“shut up Richie or your not getting any of my lunch!” lightly shoving the boy.

“oh shit! It is her! … what lunch you got anyway?” staring down to the big grocery bag she was carrying.

“haven't checked yet-” interrupted by being asked questions.

Bill started the questions first. “what happened to you? You're health tanked after you fell asleep! Do you know you've been out for 3 days?!”

“yes, and it wasn't Pennywise's fault.” wanting to get that out of the way. “he honestly was doing his best to help me, but couldn't. He even called the turtle to help me when he couldn't.”

“the turtle mike sees?” Stan asked.

“yes.” she nodded. “I was able to talk to him while asleep. Asked him if IT will keep his promise. He says he will. I also asked about our problem and he didn't have anything.” leaving out the part that IT would die if broken. “what's been going on since I went out? Found anything else?”

“no luck.” Ben answered sullen.

“we've scoured every tunnel we could find in that quarry. Tracks are everywhere, but there's always nothing at the end of them.

“we also got a new principal. Today we're having an assembly to greet him or whatever.” Stan tossed in.

“it's the only way we can even see him. He's been locked away in his office ever since he showed up last Friday.” Eddie dramatically threw his hands up letting them drop right back down.

“stuck at square one then. Have more kids gone missing?” the looks they gave her confirming there had.

“ … your aunt didn't give you t-t-t-that food, did she?” bill approaching the subject hesitantly.

“no.” she answered. Hesitant herself to bring up the feeding issue. “you know, I was in a coma and IT worked really hard to keep me alive … it didn't eat then so … we have to … feed it.” her voice dying as a lump formed in her throat.

“feed IT?!” the boy was taken aback. “a-a-a-are you serious?! We c-c-c-cant murder someone to feed IT!”

“IT has no choice. The turtle confirmed that. I made a deal that I would feed him when there is nothing to eat. Help me, or I'll do it myself.” standing her ground.

Before bill could shout at her Richie spoke up. “IT only eats criminals right? That's the point of the whole contract thingy, right? It's easy to feed him! We just gotta find the criminal ring and then he'll get a big ole buffet!”

“that's if we find it in the first place!” Stan shouted. Quieting down at hearing how loud he blurted out in front of the school. Changing to a whisper on what he said next. “We don't have any clues, locations, or someone to question where they are!”

“we could try scoping out around the camps kids were taken from.” Beverly threw out as a suggestion.

“t-t-tried.” bill shook his head. “no luck.” their conversation ended by the loud blaring school bell. An announcement over the intercom across the school yards informing students.

“to all students, head to the assembly room to greet your new principal. Classes will continue as normal starting at period 1.” the announcer ended.

“dammit! I wanted to skip first period.” Richie whined.

“what did you expect?” Eddie snickered. “assembly couldn't possibly be that long. “hey kids here's your new dictator!” ” the boy joked. Hooking Richie into going along.

“ some proud volunteer holding up “please applause” signs or else they get detention!” hugging his friend close as they walked to the assembly.

“a new challenger a-a-approaches. School dictator vz t-t-tv star rich Richie of 1000 voices! Applause cards please!”bill laughed along.

“won't be much of a fight!” Richie laughed.

“hope so, I'll be betting on you!” Beverly opened the door for them to get in.

“what do ya mean? You're gonna be my tag team partner Dorothy Mc-one leg!”

“tss, one leg? I think you need new glasses!” walking down the aisle to grab their seats.

The crowd of kids talking up until the school secretary stepped on stage. Hushing all the talking rumble to be silent. Starting to go on, on how everyone is sad about what happened to the last principal. His heart will remain in the walls of the school. Many other things all the kids had stopped paying attention to.

All the losers slumped in their chairs. Richie secretly doing school work he forgot up till now. Ben made the fortune teller paper game. Unexcitedly playing between Stan and bill. Eddie seeming to be the only one paying any attention.

A barely enthusiastic applause sounding as the new principal was introduced. A tall man in a blue suit walking onto stage. Nothing interesting of the man walking to the pedestal. Then he turned to face the crowd of seated kids. Giving off a better look at his face. Or at least half of it.

One side covered in large white wrappings. The difference immediately catching Beverly's full interest now. Sitting forward completely on guard of the new man.

“that's the guy who knocked me off the cliff!” whispering urgently to the others.

Ben almost dropped his paper game. “really?! Are you sure?”

“Pennywise scratched his face! Has to be him!” she pointed subtly toward the man.

“what if it's not? He could have bandages for something else. Maybe he's got a skin condition?” Eddie pointed out.

“we're gonna find out!” bill stated.

“how?” Stan asked from the end.

“ask, or rip it off if we h-h-have to. If IT did scar him. We'll know right away by looking.”

“you're seriously going to randomly rip off some guys medical bandages?! What if eddies right?!”

Richie paused his fast scribbling of homework answers. “and what if Dorothy's right?” gesturing to Bev. “Do you really want a child murderer as principal? We take those bandages and worse case scenario he is a murderer. The other we just look like assholes.”

“when should we talk to him?” Ben looked to bill. Beverly interrupting bill before he could answer.

“right now after the assembly.”

“w-w-w-we can't-” bill was interrupted by her again.

“every day more and more kids are going missing. We have to catch him now! Confront him while he's in public where he can't do anything! We can get some information out of him!”

bill nodded on the points Beverly gave. Looking to the other guys for any objections. It didn't take long before they nodded in agreement.

“d-d-don't go to class. S-s-straight to the principal's office. All of us.” bill handed out the plan. “we'll all confront him. G-g-get those bandages off f-f-f-first thing.” nervously looking to the man stepping off stage to leave.”

“now might be better.” Richie whispered. Shoving things into his backpack to sneak to the isle. Ignoring the others protests as he sneaked out the back door. Seeing him gone they slowly followed behind in sneaking out one at a time. Catching up to him down the cleared hallways. Finding the newly appointed principal heading to his office. As soon as he passed through the door they all rushed in after.

“kids? What are you doing in here?” the bandaged man asked. Confused to the group of 6 kids swarming in.

“how'd you get that injury?” Ben pointed to the man's wounded face. The man was taken off guard by the sudden question.

“have any of your parents told you it's rude to ask such questions?” the principal swept away the question. “go back to the assembly before I tell your parents you're running the halls out of class.” he ordered on an overly heavy threat.

“was it from something in the woods?” Beverly questioned him more firmly. Her question flipping a switch inside the man. His softer expression turning hard holding an aggressive stare down to her.

“an accident.” the man stated. Holding his dagger eyes on Bev. “if all of you don't go off soon I'll be handing out deten- AHH!” he shrieked as Eddie nicked the side of his face with a pair of small clippers from his bag. Shredding the bandage fabric enough for it to loosen. Beverly grabbing the rest to yank the dangling fabric the man tried to hold on.

The removal of the fabric revealing exactly what Beverly suspected. 4 massive claw marks deeply gouged along his face. Crossing over one eye that had a 2nd round patch to cover the injured organ.

“you attacked me by that van!” Beverly roared.

“so what?!” the scarred man roared back. “i know you. I know all of you. Beverly marsh, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stan Uris, and Richie Tozier. I've read every child's record here and I know that all of you don't have the cleanest. I also know you're not well thought of by anyone here.” he smiled.

“Especially you miss marsh. Your record is quite … fun. Possibly … useful.” the grin he gave her making their skin crawl.

“you fucking watch it!” Richie snapped at the man.

“or else what?!” he challenged Richie back. “what are you kids going to do? Complain to police I got an injury? You have nothing on me. No ones going to believe a pack of snot nosed kids who are known trouble makers” striding to sit behind his desk.

“no ones going to listen. Go back to the assembly and forget you saw anything. Or else some things will have to be considered … like a price … some will be more valuable than others and the rest will have to be let go.” shooting Beverly another skin crawling look.

“after all … kids go missing aaaalllll the time.” he grinned.

his grin bashed right off his face by bill using a large golden trophy.

“holy shit bill! You murdered him!” Richie pointed his arms at the principal's body.

“nope, he's still breathing. I can see his chest rising. I bet he'll be out cold for at least an hour.” Eddie crouched next to the man. Pointing to the rising of the downed man's chest.

“i d-d-did hit him with the football trophy.” holding up the heavy award with a life sized gold football attached to its top.

“what should we do with him? We can't just tie him to a chair here.” Stan looked between bill and the knocked out man.

“... we take him to IT.”

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #ben hascom #stanly uris #covenant ch 12

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stellarbisexual · 6 years

Note

12, 13, and 17 for the writer asks

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Eddie Kaspbrak because I love him so fucking much, and I relate to him way too much. And it took becoming an adult to realize how much I relate to him.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

In the IT fandom, probably Bill–I just don’t have a handle on him, and he appeals to me the least out of all the Losers.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

I just did this for Hummingbird, so I’ll pick one from something else! Something totally different! Alright, this is way more than just a line. R&E are in their 30s here:

He braces his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “Let me get a good look at you.”

As Richie’s eyes examine his features, it hits Eddie like a tidal wave, a rush of memories.

Richie’s childhood bedroom. WWF wrestling stickers stuck to the side of his desk. RT wuz here carved crudely into his windowsill, then colored in with blue pen. Richie would often go over the letters for something to do while they were hanging out there, running a Bic up and down the indentations over and over.

Watching Nightmare on Elm Street in someone’s basement–Bill? Ben? (Or are those two different people?)–and Richie dropping purple Nerds into his hair until Eddie’d smacked him in the face, hard, making his nose bleed. Ow, Eds, what the fuck?, he’d groused, horribly awkward in his gangly body as he’d held his palm over his face, though he’d also been laughing hysterically. They both had. Richie’d later fashioned a “championship belt” for Eddie out of tin foil.

Sitting on Richie’s roof, speaking secrets up to the stars. I don’t even know what’s real anymore, Eddie remembers saying, but he doesn’t remember why.

#shewasthewind #replies #memes #writing stuff

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swankymikehanlon-blog · 7 years

Text

Sanity (Stanlon)

Mike Hanlon was drunk. He was borderline wasted. It didn’t help that bottles kept piling on the ground around him and more were being presented to his face. He felt the music vibrate through his alcohol infused chest. The strobe lights above him blinded him with bright blues, reds, yellows and greens.

He was at another high school party thrown by some popular person he had apparently known. Some of his classmates were moving blobs to him and that’s when he felt the rumble of his gut. He was used to the feeling. So he made his usual route to the bathroom of the party. And threw up for the third time tonight.

Stan Uris was bored to utter death. He didn’t drink from the red solo cup that was in his hand. The unknown liquid swirling in his cup. He leaned up against one of the many walls of the house as people danced and basically grinned against each other. He wasn’t here for himself. He never was. He was watching Mike. His ex. Just to make sure he didn’t die of alcohol poisoning. And not because he was in love with him. Totally not because of that.

Stan smiled at Richie and Eddie, two of his closest friends, make out against the door of the upstairs bathroom. He looked back to his cup and scrunched his face. As some random person came walking down the hall he handed the cup to them and they gladly accepted. Stan watched the random stranger walk off with amusement and let his had fall against the wall, eyes closed.

Mike looked in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot red. Maybe because of drinking so much. And the hangovers. Or maybe it’s due to the fact that he doesn’t sleep. And his finger always hesitates over Stan’s number precisely at 3:00 a.m.

He turned on the faucet and let the water run over his right hand for little bit. He played with the temperature of the water before splashing some of it on his face. Just then two boys, faces fused together by the lips, came stumbling in, not realizing Mike stood there, water still dripping from his face.

“Oh Shit, We’re sor-oh hey Mike!” Richie adjusted himself as Eddie showed a look of shock on his face. Mike sighed and just smiled at the two.

“Hi Mike. We h-we haven’t seen you in forever.” Eddie crossed his arms over one another, trying to diffuse the awkward situation at hand. After Stan and Mike broke up, well, so did his bond with everyone else. Mike still ‘talked’ to everyone. But he wouldn’t hang around. Because hanging out with everyone else, meant hanging out with Stan.

“Hey.” Eddie’s arm-crossover didn’t help. The awkward tension remained in the air. But the sexual tension between Richie and Eddie was far too dominant for Mike Hanlon to handle.

“It’s good to see you guys, um, bye now.” Mike hurried out of the bathroom, closing it behind him. He was now less drunk than before. And the early signs of a bad hangover assaulted his head. He walked down the crowded hallway, deciding to take another person’s drink and chugging it in one go.

“I’m sorry, I-” Mike ran into someone and grabbed their elbow, to keep them from falling. But the material in his hand felt oddly familiar. It was rough, holes of fabric cut out in some places. He realized it was a denim jacket. His denim Jacket?

“Mike?” He couldn’t lift up his head. He refused too. He just began to walk down the stairs, eye sight getting blurry. It wasn’t because of the drinking this time. It was because of Stan, who still wore the Denim Jacket that Mike gave to him on their anniversary.

Mike didn’t waste another second standing in the presence of Stan and started walking down the stairs.

“Wait, Mike, wait.” Halfway down the stairs, Stan caught Mike’s shoulder and stopped him. He found the courage to look into those eyes that he used to love.

“Let me drive you home. You’re still drunk.” Stan said as he began to walk to the bottom of the stairs. Mike agreed, only because he wasn’t willing to drive drunk. They reached outside and felt the cold air of November nip their cheeks and noses. Stan had stopped at the porch and waited for Mike to join him. Mike didn’t wait, and continued walking to the car that held so many memories.

They reached the car, bumper still covered in Richie’s questionable yellow smiley face stickers. The dent from a near car crash(Eddie accidentally ran into them when they tried to have a double date) remained in the left back seat door. Stan managed to get in front of Mike before he could open the passenger door and opened it for him.

Mike just stared at the door, hands sweaty with dread. He looked once more to Stan who was already staring at him with a half,sad, smile and a curl blocking his left eye. Mike’s knees almost buckled at the sight. He almost wanted to move the curl out of his face an kiss him right on the spot. But he restrained himself and shuffled into the car.

The smell of pine needles filled Mikes nose and memories of late night rides and shy kisses came flooding into his head. ‘M + S’ was still carved into the headboard of Stan’s car. He remembered that day like yesterday. They had just started dating. They were still shy. But on one of their many first dates they had decided to carve their first name initial into Stan’s headboard to signify an everlasting relationship.

A bunch of bullshit.

Stan got to the outside of Mike’s house, the lights had been turned off meaning everyone was already sleeping. The drive only took ten minutes but Mike felt like it took forever and a year. His head rolled on the headrest with exhaustion and slight dizziness.

“So, this is how you cope?”

Mike stopped. Everything in his bodily system managed to stop functioning. The small drunk haze seemed to enhance and all he could do was laugh.

“Of course this is how I fucking cope. I drink my sorrows away.” Mike waved his hand to nothing in particular. Stan just stared at him, hands still braced on the wheel.

“I fuck other people. I fuck so many people, I don’t-I don’t even know who I-I...am anymore.” Mike began to slur his words. The nights intake of liquid started to get to him.

“But. How...how, how do you cope Stan?” Mike pointed to Stan directly in his chest. He watched his finger prick the cotton of his shirt and looked up Stan who’s eyes seemed to get wetter by the moment.

“Let me tell you. You watch me stumble on the edge of my. Fucking. Sanity.” Mike pulled back his hand and pointed to his head. A tear rolled down his cheek and Stan’s heart broke even more.

“That’s how you cope. So before you question my way of coping, Stan. Question. Yours.” His voice cracked at the last part and he coughed, trying to disguise it.

“Mike, you’re scaring me.” Stan’s delicate voice ricocheted through his throat. Mike just started laughing. Like an insane man. The laughs seemed forced, and they were, anything to keep him from crying.

“Ha! Oh that’s...that’s really fucking funny. You-You wanna, uh, know something. That’s...the exact same-that’s the exact same thing I said the night you broke my heart.” Mike continued laughing and Stan looked at him with wet eyes. Mike looked like a mess. Clothes wrinkled, stains here and there, hands covering his face. Stan did know. He remembered.

Oh how he remembered.

“Hi babe!” Mike opened the door to his boyfriend, who wore a sly fake smile. Stan walked in the room, hands knotted together, and his brows flurried in frustration. Mike hadn’t taken notice of Stan’s state and hugged him from behind.

“What movie do you want to watch tonight?” Mike had led Stan to his bed and was about to drop both of them on it when Stan gently pulled away.

“I don’t think there’s going to be a movie tonight.” Stan had completely stepped out of Mike’s embrace with reluctancy. Mike’s smile had faltered a little bit and he clasped his hands behind his back. Something he tended to do when he got nervous or serious.

“Oh, uh, do you have to go somewhere later?” Mike asked Stan and waited for a response. When the response never came he noticed the guilty expression plastered on Stan’s face.

“Stan, you’re scaring me, what’s wrong.” Mike went to touch Stan again but he flinched and all Mike felt was a sudden rush of despair. Stan was crying, sniffles erupting from his nose and Mike just stood still.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Those words. Those word had broke Mike that night. Ruined him. He yelled that night. He was yelled at. Some things were said that would never be forgotten.

And Mike said ‘I love you’ for the first time. He was answered by the closing of his bedroom door.

“Well. Thanks for the ride buddy, I’ll see you around.” Mike got out of the car, feet planted on the concrete and hands holding onto the car door. He was swaying when he started to walk to his house but then he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Stan helped him to his front door and up to his room.

The door, still decorated in 90′s r&b artist and golden star lights brought a smile to Stan’s face. When he opened the door, Mike’s room look the same. Bed tucked neatly into the corner and a old, vintage, desk right beside it. The curtains were closed and school work was piled neatly on the ground next to his backpack.

“I fucking hate you.” Mike repeated as Stan helped him into his bed. He took off his shoes and placed them to the edge of the bed. Stan stood above Mike as he rolled over, facing the wall on purpose.

“I’m sorry.” Stan’s voice was soft. Fragile. Like Mike’s heart was. Before it was ripped out of his chest.

“I love you. I always will. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that before.” Stan stroked the back of Mike’s head with adoration. Mike felt the tears rush down his face but he didn’t want Stan to see. So when the door to his bedroom closed, he got a severe case of Deja Vu. And a severe case of heart break. All. Over. Again.

Okay jesus, this was bad and short, and simple, Damn I can do better, I promise. But hey I wrote a Stanlon fic and I’m pretty fucking proud of myself. I have so many Mike Hanlon x all the losers characters stuff in my drafts lmaooo. Mike H. just deserves so much love. Also the characters in this story are aged up like around 16? 17? Just because I implied some slightly heavy make-out Reddie vibes, but that’s it. (I also didn’t really edit this so some things might not make sense, but I’m trying sksksk)

#mike hanlon #stan uris #stanley uris #stanlon #stike #stan x mike #richie tozier #eddie kasparak #it 2017

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imultifandomstuff · 7 years

Text

My Hero

A/N this one took me so long to write, good lort. I hope you guys like it though!! Prompts number 38, 41, and 61 from this prompt list.

Pairing: Richie Tozier X fem reader (although there's only one thing that indicates reader is a girl, so you can imagine otherwise if you'd like)

Summary: the Losers find reader after a bad run in with Henry

Warnings: bullying, blood, some unwanted touching, and cursing

Richie Tozier

You made a mistake. A big, big mistake.

You were being bullied, as usual, when Henry pulled out his signature knife. You begged and pleaded for him not to use it on you, to no avail. He only laughed evilly, glancing over at Patrick who smirked largely.

Belch looked unsure, and went to question Henry when you finally yanked one of your arm's free from his hands, slapping Henry in the cheek. "Leave me alone, asshole!" You screamed at him, although you immediately regretted your decision as anger covered his features and he went rigid.

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened slightly in shock at what you had done, and you immediately tried to apologize. "Henry, p-please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- ah!" You couldn't finish your sentence, as a first came barreling down onto your face. You would've fallen, had Belch not grabbed your arm once more while Victor held the other tightly.

You felt blood drip out of your mouth, and tears sprung in your eyes. "What'd you say, bitch?" Henry spat, holding his knife close to your face. He slid the flat side down your cheek, causing you to squeeze your teary eyes shut.

"I'm sorry!" You cried. "Please, I'll do whatever you want." You felt his movements stop. "Anything? Really," he chuckled, and your eyes opened lightly to look at him. You gave him a short nod, watching as he looked between all of his friends. He smirked wildly, waving his hand at Patrick and Belch,"Turn her around."

Your eyes widened once again as the two forcefully turned you around, shoving you against the railing your back had been pressed against just moments before. "No, not that! That's not what I meant! Please, please," you begged, turning your head awkwardly to face Belch. He was the nicest out of all of them, – well, as nice as anyone in the Bowers gang could be – and if any of them was going to stick up for you, it'd be him.

You caught his eyes for just a moment, but he quickly looked away in shame at what he was doing. Sure, he bullied kids all the time, but hurting ladies wasn't his favorite thing to do in his spare time.

"H-Henry, maybe we shouldn't-"

"Shut up!" Henry screamed, lifting your shirt up and dragging the flat side of his blade against it. Your breath hitched when you felt it, and suddenly the sharp side was pressed into your skin. You shouted out in pain, feeling the blade lifted from your skin only to press it down once more.. then again.. and again.

Only the last time, he pressed down deeper than before, and you screamed and sobbed and begged him to stop. "Okay, Henry. That's enough, dude. I think you proved your point," Victor said, nudging Henry. "Yeah, if you go too deep you'll kill her," Belch agreed.

Henry thought about it, running a hand over his creation. A shallow 'H' was carved into your back, along with multiple deeper cuts that oozed blood. Blood was smeared along your back from his hand, which was also covered in it. He smeared the blood from his hand onto your jeans, running a hand over your butt as he went.

He took a step back,"Alright, let's go."

Patrick huffed as he let go of your arm, looking at Victor and Belch,"Sissy's." The two ignored him, Belch letting you go as well. They all went back into Belch's car, speeding off quickly. You fell to the ground, pulling your knees up to your chest as you sobbed. What did you do to deserve this?

"Y/N? Are you- Holy shit! You're bleeding," you heard a familiar voice shout, and multiple bikes falling to the ground. You looked up at your friends that were running toward you, sobbing loudly. "H-Henry," you sobbed, unable to speak properly. You didn't have to, though. They understood, they knew.

"Oh, shit," Stanley muttered once he got a good look at you, seeing the blood that had seeped through your shirt. "We have to get her help!" Eddie exclaimed loudly, already beginning to panic as he looked at you. Richie pulling you against his chest, stroking your hair.

"Richie, c-come on. W-w have to tuh-take her somewhere," Billy said, laying a hand on his friends shoulder. "Um, okay, uh, take her home and I'll go to my house and get the supplies. Her parents aren't home, right? Just take her home, and I'll get the stuff and bring it to you. My mom would have a cow if I brought her home," Eddie quickly said. He lived close to you, and knew that he had all of the supplies needed to bandage you up.

"Oh shit, okay. I'm gonna toss you over my shoulder and book it okay," he told you, looking over at his friends,"no way I'm trying to fight these fools. Not on this." You nodded weakly, your sobs subsiding. The others helped him pick you up over his shoulder and walk you to his bike, setting you down on the seat as he climbed up. You weakly wrapped your arms around his waist as he began to peddle, having to stand on the peddles as you were on the seat. The others quickly climbed onto their bikes, and they all began riding toward your house.

"Don't bleed out onto my back, 'kay?" Richie said over his shoulder, feeling you lean your head against his back. Within a few minutes, you'd arrived at your house. He helped you off of the bike, holding you close against him as he helped you walk to your front door.

The others shoved the door open, and took you to the bathroom. Beverly looked through the drawers and cupboards, looking for a towel and some rags, as Richie gently set you on the edge of your bathtub. Finally, she found some, placing it under running water and pushing Richie out of the way. "Hey, Y/N," she gently spoke, causing you to look up at her. "I'm gonna wipe the blood off of your face, okay?"

You nodded, and she got to work. She wiped around your mouth, seeing Richie pacing out of he corner of her eye. Mike went to find something for the bruise on your cheek, and Ben and Stanley watched with sad eyes. Neither of them knew what to do, they hated seeing you like this. You were the sweet, innocent Y/N who wouldn't even hurt a fly.

"Where's Richie and Bill? They're taking forever." He stressed. "You're gonna stress her out even more, Rich. Calm down," Beverly said, scowling at him. You sniffled, and Richie looked over at you. He grabbed onto one of your hands, intertwining his fingers together with yours as he thought of all the ways he could torture Henry.

Mike finally came back to the bathroom, a bag of frozen peas in hand. He gently pressed it to your cheek, causing you to jump. Soon enough, Eddie and Bill came running through the front doors of your house and into your bathroom, supplies nearly falling out of their hands. They gently lifted the back of your shirt, and got to work. You hissed as the alcohol fell into your wounds, the stinging almost too much to bear. Tears sprung in your eyes at the pain, but it was over quick enough. You were now in your bed, one of your pillows clutched in your arms.

It was almost dark, and all of your friends were sitting in your room, just staring at you. Bev stood and walked over to you, running a hand through your hair,"You okay, Y/N/N?"

You sent her a tight lipped smile,"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks, Bev." She nodded,"Of course. I've gotta go, but I'll come and check on you tomorrow morning, alright?"

"Alright," you agreed. All of your friends, one by one, came and bid you goodbye. Some kissed your forehead, some squeezed your hand, and some only sent you sad looks. But all promised to come by in the morning. You didn't know how you got so lucky.

Richie was the only one left, and he was sat on your desk chair across from your bed. You stared at him, and he stared at you. For some reason, tears sprung your eyes again.

"Why me, Rich? What'd I do to deserve that?"

Richie felt like his heart was being squeezed, and he wanted to cry as well. He jumped up from the chair and moved to sit next to you on your bed. He wiped a tear away with his finger,"You didn't do anything, Y/N. Henry and his stupid friends are just stupid fucking assholes."

You nodded, slowly and carefully scooting over in your room so that there was more room,"Will you lay with me for a few minutes? I don't wanna be alone."

Richie's mouth parted, but despite his shock he nodded and kicked his shoes off. He moved under the covers next to you, and your hand slowly moved to grab his. Richie quickly, and shyly, moved forward and kissed your forehead.

"You're safe now, I've got you," he muttered, looking more sincere than you'd ever seen him.

You smiled softly,"My hero."

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