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reddielibrary · 5 years

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Derry’s Maize Maze

Written by @stansbooty

Gift for @billdenborogh

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Word count: 2796

Rating: T

AO3 Link

Summary: maize (noun): corn maze (noun): a network of paths designed as a puzzle through which one has to find a wayEddie gets lost in a corn maze and Richie goes to find him.

Richie took in the scene around him. The leaves blowing across the grass, his friends bundled up in coats, the Halloween decorations surrounding them, the rickety old sign reading “Derry Fall Festival”. His eyes lingered for more than a few seconds on Eddie, who had never been a fan of the cold, and his unnecessarily thick scarf, giant coat, and adorable beanie plopped on his head. His face was flushed from the weather, giving him a red nose. October in Maine was never kind to them, bringing the freezing temperatures before Halloween even arrived.

“I don’t know about you guys, but that rope swing over there is calling my name.” Richie interrupted whatever conversation his friends were having in favor of pointing over to rope strung up by some giant hay bales.

“You mean the one with the children surrounding it?” Mike asked.

“Hell yeah, I’m bigger than them, I’ll push them out of the way.” Richie responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So, who’s gonna join me?”

“Me, duh.” Beverly made her way over to him, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I’ll race ya.”

A giant grin made its way onto Richie’s face. “You’re on.”

The two of them ran across the field, dodging all of the other guests with ridiculous spins and jumps. At one point, Richie nearly ran into a woman holding her baby, allowing Bev to race passed him with a dramatic battle cry.

“Ben,” Stan began as the rest of them walked over to the swing. “Tell me again how someone as chaotic as Bev managed to snag you?”

A flush appeared on Ben’s face that had nothing to do with the cold. He shrugged. “Love is weird, I guess.”

Eddie looped his arm around Ben’s and smiled. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Of course, you do.” Bill rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Eddie’s tone changing instantaneously to snap defensively.

Mike snorted. “It’s just that you find…chaos attractive.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie stopped in his tracks, pulling Ben to a stop as well. “I do not.”

“It’s nothing, Eddie.” He smiled brightly. “Forget it.”

Eddie glowered at him, scrunching up his face in annoyance. “Fine.”

Ben smiled brightly at him. “Don’t worry about it, they’re just joking.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie replied quietly, although he had sensed there was truth behind all of their words.

The five of them continued down to the rope swing, finding a spot to sit on top of a hay bale facing their two friends. Beverly and Richie took turns swinging from one side of the hay to the other, their swinging becoming increasingly more sporadic as they went, causing some of the children to leave in order to prevent getting knocked in the head.

Richie waved widely at Eddie when he noticed them sitting down. “Eds! Come on over!”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m good over here, dipshit!”

The grin on Richie’s face didn’t falter with Eddie’s words. “Suit yourself!”

“I’m joining them.” Bill got up suddenly, after Richie had made a hard fall onto the hay.

“Betraying us sane people?” Stan joked.

“You know that none of us are even a bit sane.” Bill laughed and ran off, yanking the rope from Richie’s hands.

The others watched with a fondness that only came from truly loving their friends with all their heart and soul, despite the absolute chaos, or “idiotic shit” as it was put by Eddie once, that they tended to get into. The key, they’d come to realize, is to stop getting embarrassed by Richie and Beverly, the ones who often started the chaos in the first place.

“I think we should do the corn maze.” Richie ran over after running away from a mother who seemed to think three teenagers had no business on a rope swing.

Stan’s head perked up. “That actually sounds like fun.”

“You sound shocked that I could have a good idea, Staniel.”

“But wait,” Bev said as her and Bill joined them. “We thought it would be a good idea to do the hard part. And, like, make it a race. See who can finish first?”

“Me being able to beat you guys at something while also being able to witness you getting unbelievably lost? I’m very much interested.” Stan stood up, looking at everyone expectantly.

“You know I’m directionally challenged.” Ben laughed. “I could get lost in my own neighborhood.”

“Which is why you’ll be sticking with me.” Bev got up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “But all you other fuckers are on your own, every man for himself.”

The man at the front of the corn maze had told them that the hard portion could take anywhere from 45 minutes to a couple hours, all depending on how badly a person got lost. An hour and a half later, six of the seven friends stood at the exit, Bill the most recent to get out.

“At what point do you think we should worry about Eddie?” Mike asked.

“Bill just got back, I wouldn’t worry too much.” Stan shrugged.

“Bill got back 20 minutes ago.” Ben pointed out.

“Well, Eddie’s smart.” Stan replied.

“What? Did you murder him, Stan?” Richie attempted to jump up above the corn stalks to see into the maze, trying to get a glimpse of Eddie, but to no avail.

“Who’s gonna go run back in there? It took us an hour to get out, imagine trying to look for someone.” Stan pointed out and most of them made noises of agreements.

“I’m the one who finished first, in 45 minutes if you haven’t forgotten.” Richie replied and inched towards the entrance.

“Richie, you’ll get lost. And then we’ll have to call a search team for two people.” Mike said, taking Stan’s side.

“Betrayal, Mike, true betrayal.” Richie clutched at his heart. “But no one can stop me.”

Richie turned on his heels and ran into the maze, ignoring the sounds of protest coming from his friends behind him.

If he was being honest with himself, Richie didn’t know if he would run back into the corn for anyone other than Eddie. Seeing how long it would take for one of his friends to get out, or even having to call a search team of festival employees seemed like a great opportunity for entertainment. But, as always, Richie found himself unable to control himself when it came to Eddie. Bev would tell him it was because of his “cute little cruuuuush” (as she so eloquently put it), to which Richie couldn’t really deny it, but Eddie was also his best friend and he knew he would probably begin to get a little panicked if he was stuck in the corn when the sun began to go down.

Therefore, Richie ran full speed through the corn, not really taking into account with turns he was taking or which direction he was going (he figured if he found his way out once, he could do it again without a second thought).

Eddie considered himself pretty smart. But nearly two hours after entering the damned corn maze, going around in circles like a maniac, and then seeing Richie Tozier running towards him, he was beginning to think he was losing brain cells by the minute.

“Spaghetti! I’m here to rescue you!” Richie outstretched his arms to wrap Eddie up in a hug.

“Fuck that nickname, Rich.” Eddie pushed the other boy off of him. “Are you lost, too?”

Richie scoffed. “Oh no, we all made our way out. I came back in to rescue you.”

“Are you serious?”

“That everyone got out? Yeah.” Richie then smiled triumphantly. “I got out in 45.”

Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. “No.”

“Yes. Who’s the smart bitch now?”

“Oh, fuck off, it’s confusing in here.” Eddie shoved him lightly and with a smile gracing his lips, but Richie made a show out of losing his balance.

“Hey, be nice to me or I’ll abandon you in here.”

Eddie sighed and gestured in front of him. “Alright, lead the way.”

Richie began leading them around the corn, taking turn after turn, nearly making Eddie dizzy at the speed he took them at. He knew that all the cornstalks looked the same, but after what seemed like several minutes, he felt as if he was beginning to recognize some of the stalks.

“You do know how to get out of here, right?” Eddie looked up at him.

Richie made a noise in his throat. “Uh, definitely.”

Eddie looked at him with wide eyes. “Are we fucking lost?”

“No!” Richie protested and then shrugged. “Maybe!”

“You told me you got out of here!”

“I did! I…I just forgot?”

Eddie looked up towards the sky and let out a loud groan. “We’re gonna die in here.”

“Lighten up, we’ll find our way out.”

“No, we’re gonna die.”

“Well in that case,” Richie slung an arm over Eddie’s shoulder, bringing him close. He leaned down to whisper in Eddie’s ear. “We might as well have some fun.”

“Shut up.” Eddie nudged Richie with his shoulder. “No one wants to do anything with your disgusting ass.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night when we were fucking in this corn field.” Richie made a crude gesture with his fingers to go along with his words.

“Richie!” Eddie screeched and shoved the other boy, harder than he did earlier, who lost his balance from the sheer force of his rage and fell back into the cornstalks.

“Fuck!” Richie yelled as he was engulfed by the plants, his body disappearing so only his feet stuck out onto the pathway.

Eddie giggled and kicked one of Richie’s feet softly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m dead, Eds.” Richie replied dramatically, swinging his feet around. “I’m one with the corn now. A child of the corn, if you will.”

“Oh, shut up. You need help getting up?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I live here, this is my home!”

Eddie scoffed. “Richie.”

“Fine, c’mere.” He stuck a hand out in front of him, his fingers barely making it out of the corn.

Eddie stepped forward, putting a leg on each side of Richie’s to brace himself. Leaning forward, he could vaguely make out Richie’s face amongst the stalks. He grabbed the outstretched hand, preparing to pull him up from the ground. Suddenly, he was instead pulled forward into the corn.

“Shit!” He screamed and fell harshly onto Richie’s body.

“Glad you could join me in the corn, Eds.” Richie grinned.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” Eddie shoved his chest, trying to get up. “Don’t call me that, help me get up.”

“Never.” Richie instead placed his hand on Eddie’s hips, pulling him hard down against his own body.

“Richie.” Eddie gasped and looked at him with wide eyes, suddenly aware of how much of their bodies were touching.

“What?”

Eddie swallowed hard. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” Richie grinned and rolled their bodies further into the corn, Eddie could feel the corn closing around them, and they were completely engulfed, the pathway no longer visible.

Eddie’s back hit the ground and he let out a brief “oof” as Richie landed on top of him as well.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re just rolling around in the corn, havin’ some fun.” Richie had gone down on his elbows, caging Eddie in.

Eddie took a sharp intake of breath as the other boy moved them, successfully putting all his body weight on Eddie, situated between his legs, to prevent him from getting up at all.

“Richie.” Eddie suddenly felt suffocated. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just messing around.” Richie must have sensed the seriousness in Eddie’s voice because his words came out softer than they had been all day.

“I -” Eddie tried to find words to say as he noticed how close they were, how they were breathing in each other’s breaths, and their bodies were flush against each other, how Richie was perfectly slotted between his legs in a way that caused Eddie to feel hot all over. “You’re always just messing around.”

“What?”

“Everything is a joke to you.”

Richie scrunched up his face in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“All these jokes, all the touching, you’re fucking on top of me, Richie, for god’s sake.” Eddie tried to squirm away, instead accidently bucking his hips up against Richie’s.

Richie let out sharp breath that sounded suspiciously like a moan and Eddie’s face tingled with heat despite the cold. “Don’t do that.” Richie said lowly.

“Let me up then.” He squirmed again.

“I swear to god, Eddie, stop.”

Eddie flailed his legs, trying to get up, but Richie had several inches on him and a bit of weight, making it a lost cause.

“Stop.” Richie growled and Eddie looked up to see Richie’s eyes had darkened, his pupils blown. “You’re not.”

“I’m not what?”

“A joke to me.”

“Rich…”

Richie took in Eddie’s face, the red of his cheeks, the wideness of his eyes, the way his lips were slightly parted as he whispered. Their bodies were still pressed against each other and maybe Richie didn’t think this whole thing completely through, but he wasn’t exactly known for thinking things through.

“Rich.” Eddie repeated.

This time, Richie let himself look directly at his lips, the way his tongue swiped out to wet them, a sheen left behind.

When asked about it later, neither of the two boys could accurately recall which one of them had moved in first. The only thing they knew is that suddenly their lips were pressed together and Eddie’s hands were in Richie’s hair, and his legs were crossed behind his back, bringing their bodies even closer than they ever thought they’d ever be, and their hearts were thumping widely loud inside their chests.

The corn poked their bodies uncomfortably, but they couldn’t be bothered to care, too caught up in each other to notice anything else. One particular movement from Richie’s hips caused Eddie to gasp, his mouth opening to allow the opportunity to deepen the kiss, their tongues rolling against each other. Eddie felt himself begin to sweat underneath his coat and scarf.

Their mouths separated to allow them to catch their breaths, Richie pressing kisses to the side of Eddie’s jaw, not being able to get any lower due to the thick scarf. He settled for pressing kisses everywhere on Eddie’s face, going from his jaw to his ear to his nose to his forehead. Eddie let out a sigh of content with each press of Richie’s lips.

“Eddie fucking Kaspbrak, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” Richie said, his voice slightly raspy, and leaned his forehead against Eddie’s.

“It’s not a joke?” Eddie whispered.

“Never.” Richie replied.

Eddie smiled. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, too.”

Their matching grins made kissing hard for the next minute. It was nothing more than pressing their mouths together, neither of them wanting to be apart for any longer. Their lips eventually relaxed again, slotting together as if they had been doing it their whole lives.

“Richie! Eddie!”

Voices boomed through the field and the boys had no choice but to separate, suddenly noticing the setting sun around them.

“Shit.” Richie muttered.

“Guys?” They could recognize Bev’s voice close to them.

“We’re right here!” Eddie yelled back.

“Where?”

“Uh…in the corn!” Richie responded. A light flashed in Richie’s face. “Fuck, Marsh, point that somewhere else.”

Bev spread the corn apart with her arms, looking into the dense plants. “Why the hell are you in there?”

“We fell?”

She looked at them with a glint in her eyes and smiled. “Sure.”

The two boys scrambled to get up, groaning as they occasionally kneed or elbowed one another, until they fell out in the maze pathway.

“We had to tell the employees and get a map, so I hope you’re embarrassed.” Bev crossed her arms and tsked.

“I guess my rescue mission was a fail.” Richie shrugged.

She took in their flushed faces and swollen lips, as well as Richie’s tousled hair. “I don’t think fail would be the word I would use.”

“Oh!” Richie wrapped an arm around Eddie and pulled him into his chest. Eddie pushed his head into the boy’s torso, hiding his face in embarrassment. “I did catch a nice Spaghetti.”

“Richie, shut up!”

“You have to be nice to me now, Eds, it’s law.”

Eddie peeked up from his spot against Richie’s chest to look up at him, both of their faces glowing bright red with matching blinding grins. Maybe getting lost had its perks.

#reddie #halloween event 2019 #stansbooty

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mitchsmarners · 5 years

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semi charmed life | chapter nine | 4.8k | teen|

“You guys have kept in contact this whole time?” Bill asked, brow disappearing underneath hair line as he looked like his old friends in amazement. “And you guys are.. what? Room mates?”

Eddie avoided looking at Richie as he answered. “Yeah, uh… room mates. Something like that.”

[or: the adult!losers reunion, done 2000s sit-com style, just like we all deserve.]

PREVIOUSLY ON SEMI CHARMED LIFE: “I’ve always wanted you.” Ben said openly. “and I will always want you.” Beverly cupped the side of his face and brought their lips together.” “Wait, Ben Hanscom?” Eddie squawked, shaking his head as Richie nodded. “That’s not going to end well.” | CUTEST COUPLE. Richie traced his hands over the words, smiling softly as he took in the appearance of himself and Beverly Marsh at fifteen. | “It’s like… sometimes…” Mike exhaled hard. “Sometimes I feel like he’d rather me be in Derry, a place I’ve always hated, with him than out here doing what I love. He’s just… waiting for me to come back. I don’t think he thinks this is real. Permanent. He’s waiting for me to come back.” | “So tell me, good pal,” the man smiled, giving him a golden toothed grin. “You wanna pack or deliver?” | “You almost destroyed me,” Richie snapped, eyes blazing. “I couldn’t go to school, I couldn’t even graduate. I almost had to stay in this absolute hell hole, just so you wouldn’t have to admit failure. So fuck you, Stanley.”

“Look who’s cute!” Richie called happily, coming into the dark light cafe with little Frankie perched on his shoulders. He had promised Beverly that he would come see her at work on her first day, before he dropped Frankie off at home and went in for his own shift. After Beverly had seen her outfit, she’d wished that Richie would’ve forgotten all about that promise. He was here, though, with a toddler on his shoulders and a shit eating grin on his face.

Beverly flushed. Her black shirt buttoned all the way up to her mid-neck, and her pants were yanked up nearly to her breasts. With a belt. It sort of hurt to breathe. She wanted nothing more than to take it all off and walk away, but she knew that she couldn’t afford to do that. Without Tom in her life, Beverly had spent the last month milling around in Eddie and Richie’s apartment, jobless and mooching off of their kindness. It wasn’t a life that she could live forever- nor one she wanted to- but it certainly didn’t seem to help anything with Eddie’s sudden awkwardness around her. After a few days, Beverly had managed to pluck up the courage to ask about it and Richie had dismissed her. Claimed that Eddie had had some sort of weird experience at work, and that it wasn’t anything she had done. Beverly wasn’t entirely sure she believed that, but she was willing to give Richie the benefit of believing him. No doubt he knew what was going on in Eddie’s mind space better than she did.

“The only cute person is here is that little princess on your shoulders,” Beverly said happily. In the month since she’d moved in with Eddie and Richie, she’d really grown to adore their little daughters. She thought they were possibly the best child to ever grace the present of this planet- and made her reconsider her lifelong declaration to never have children. Then she remembered that time that Frankie had taken her baby sister right out of the stroller without her noticing, and resolved to sit with simply baby sitting Richie’s little girls with Ben.

And Ben… things between them were great. She knew the rest of her friends were skeptic about their current relationship- Mike had made it obvious with his expressions, and Eddie had straight out told her as much, but she felt that things were going amazingly. She knew, of course, that she ever wanted to make things any more serious that she needed to get into contact with Tom, at least serve him up with divorce papers, but she couldn’t be bothered to think about that just now. Things were going smoothly in her life right now, outside of the tension between herself and Eddie, and Beverly didn’t think now would be a good time to do any boat rocking.

“Hey!” Richie snapped his fingers under Beverly’s nose and waggled his eyebrows at her. “Stop thinking about Ben when a handsome man is already here visiting you.” Richie shot her that toothy grin that instantly brought her back to looking at braces and beyond freckled cheeks, and her stomach leapt the way it always had.

She shook her head and looked away. “You’re alright. Shouldn’t you be getting that little girl home for bed now?”

Richie made a mocking offended noise. “You invite us down here to see you and you’re immediately rushing us out the door. Here I thought you loved us.”

“Well, I love Frankie.” Beverly said with a smirk. “You still fall under the ex boyfriend category, you’re on probation for love.”

Richie gasped, pressing a hand that wasn’t necessary to hold Frankie up to his chest. “How long until I can be accepted back to love status?”

Beverly hummed, trying not to break into a smile. “How long ago did Bill and I break up? Sixteen years ago? Seventeen? I’m starting to considering letting him back into love status.”

Richie made a wounded noise and shook his head dramatically. “I let you into my home, let you eat my food, and this is how you repay me? I’m hurt, Beverly. I will just take my daughter and my company elsewhe-” The ringing in Richie’s pocket yanked them both away from the conversation. Richie rolled his eyes. He was one of very few people Beverly knew that actually had a cell phone- claiming that he needed it for work related situations- and he seemed to despise the thing. “Hello?” He answered, then quickly frowned. “Billy, what… What? Yeah, I do but I have to work- okay, okay, okay. I have Frankie with me so we can… Oh?” Richie’s face crumbled up and he gave Beverly an odd expression. “Then you need to give me a chance to drop her off a home. Then I’ll come get you, don’t go anywhere.”

Richie snapped the phone shut and tucked into his pocket, giving Beverly a long look before sighing. “I’ve got to go. I need to get Franks home, and cover my shift apparently.”

“That was Bill?” Beverly asked, rubbing at her bare arm a little awkward. She didn’t like the troubled look in Richie’s eyes. He could barely look at her, a sign she remembered well from the youth. It meant that Richie’s thoughts were moving faster than his brain could keep up with it, and it always spelled disaster. It meant Richie punching Patrick Hockstetter in the face for homophobic comments or pulling the fire alarm to keep Henry Bowers at bay during an in-school attack. Bad outcomes from good intentions. “Is he out drunk and needs a ride?”

“No.” Richie replied with a small shake of the head that might have been an unconscious twitch. “He’s… I don’t know. I need to go get him, or… whatever. I have to go…”

Beverly nodded firmly. “Yeah, yeah. Go!”

Richie seemed to bounce in place for a moment, before turning and moving quickly through the empty diner. The bell dinged as he left and Beverly exhaled hard, a sense of doom settling in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what the night held, but she knew that it was only quarter to eleven and it was just starting.

→ → →

Mike tapped his hands against the steering wheel of his rental car as he pulled past the Derry town sign. It had been an incredibly long week, and even though Pearsons had started to pull up on his treatment. Kay had been a godsend but after just the general roughness of his first exhibit, all Mike wanted was the comfort of his boyfriend. It was been a slightly spur of the moment plan, encouraged mostly by Kay after seeing how drained Mike had been all week, and they’d come up with the idea to simply surprise Alexander with his presence than go through the whole process of trying to turn into a plan.

Mike turned down the radio as he started down the back road that lead him to his childhood home. He felt a little bit of sadness in his gut at the FOR SALE sign he knew he was going to see as pulled up in front of it. By the time he’d left for New York it hadn’t gone up yet, and he’d yet to see it. His father wasn’t going to be there, they’d been filtered out the animals for the last few weeks and he knew most of the things he’d always known about Derry would be gone. As soon as Mike could figure out a solution to his spacious problems, Alexander would be packing up and coming to New York and this old place would just be a part of Mike’s past.

It wasn't, however, the sight of the FOR SALE sign that sent Mike’s heart lurching up into his throat as he pulled up towards his driveway. It was the unfamiliar car that was parked beside Alexander’s outside their house. HIS house. Mike placed the car into park and took a second to steady his breathing.

→ → →

Stan pulled his sweater tighter around himself as he made his way through the dark streets. The nights were getting progressively warmer as summer came in, but he found that he might have wanted to wear his windbreaker this night. The weather outside hadn’t exactly been the first thing on his mind as he left his apartment at nearly eleven, barely stopping to give an explanation to Patty as he rushed out into the night.

He hadn’t personally heard from Bill Denbrough in almost eleven years. They’d been friendly enough at the reunion, classic adult behaviour he supposed, but Bill had made it pretty clear to everybody whose side he was on once everything went down between Stan and Richie. Stan supposed that everybody had leaned more towards Richie’s side of things, but Bill and Eddie had been the two who openly expressed it the most. Everybody else had the slight decency to pretend not to pick a side- and it was easy enough with them all leaving Derry- but Stan and Bill’s friendship had never bounced back. So, yes, Bill Denbrough calling him in the dead of night for help was out of character and worrisome.

He sped up his steps once he saw Bill standing at the end of the street, pacing in front of the street sign. Stan walked quickly up to him, placing a hand on Bill’s elbow. Bill let out a loud shout, and quickly yanked himself away. He stumbled and Stan had to move quickly to grab hold of his arms and steady his old friend on his feet. “Are you okay?” Stan asked, taking in Bill’s disheveled appearance and wide eyes.

“I…” Bill cleared his throat and looked around, nose twitching. Even in the darkness of the night, Stan recognized that look as Bill getting caught on a word. It was strange, when they’d all met up in Derry Bill had barely stuttered at all. Whatever this was must have been really getting to him. Stan rubbed gently at Bill’s shaking arms and watch as the other boy worked through his own tongue. “I-I’m in t-t-tr-trouble, Stan.”

Stan was seconds away from some sort comment that would be the equivalent of duh, when a car came roaring up to the curb. Richie Tozier leaned towards the passenger seat window, scowling slightly at the sight of Stan standing there as well. He shook his head, closed his eyes and jerked his hand towards the back seat. Bill jumped to action, quickly launching himself into the backseat. Stan let out a half-aborted protest before getting into the passenger seat beside Richie.

Richie gave him an awkward closed-mouthed smile that Stan nervously returned before spinning around in the backseat to glare at Bill. “Care to fucking tell me what was so important that I had to call into work to come get your ass at the side of the road? And why bird boy is here with you?”

Stan wanted to be offended, but he supposed of all the things Richie could’ve called him, that was pretty tame. Bill seemed to be openly trembling in the back seat, eyes jerking around nervously. Stan sighed “He called me at home, said he was in trouble-”

“Didn’t fucking ask you.” Richie snapped, not even bothered to look at him. Richie drummed his fingers against the steering wheel while maintaining direct eye contact with Bill. Stan watched how Bill squirmed under Richie’s gaze, and couldn’t help but think that Richie had never looked more like a father than he did in that moment. Stan had to bit his lip to keep from trying to give Richie a satisfying answer to his well asked question.

“I…” Bill flushed deeply, Stan could see that even in the dark car. Maybe part of Stanley Uris had never forgotten about to read his old friends. Bill scratched at the back of his neck, clearing trying to avoid meeting Richie’s gaze. “I’ve g-g-gotten involved with some guh-guh-guys…”

Stan felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. He felt that maybe some part of him had been afraid of that this whole time. He hadn’t been able to deny the nerves he’d been feeling. He looked away from Bill and towards Richie. Richie was practically burning holes into Bill’s head, silently urging him to continue.

Bill cleared his throat once again, one of his oldest tricks to helping with his stutter that he’d always found didn’t really help at all but he’d always resort to when nothing else was working either. “I-I-I-I k-k-knew it was a b-b-b-bad i-idea but I-I-I nuh-n-needed money. For the b-b-b-b-b-b-baby.” Bill was staring stubbornly at his hands now. Richie was shaking his head slowly, eyes closed and Stan. Well. Stanley felt like he was moments away from opening this car door and throwing up into the street.

“I-I-I-I didn’t fuh-fuh-feel right about i-i-i-it!” Bill declared. “I-I-I was truh-try-trying to get o-o-o-out! They d-d-d-didn’t luh-luh-like that.”

“No, I imagine they fucking didn’t!” Richie let out a frustrated grunt, and smacked his hand a little bit harder against the steering wheel. “God damnit Denbrough. When did you get so stupid?”

“We always did stupid shit!” Bill argued, suddenly stutter-free. Suddenly sounding angry. “The three of us! Getting into trouble, barely getting away with it. Come on, you can’t deny it was always epic.”

Richie and Stan both shot Bill looks of contempt so eerily similar that Bill sunk back in his seat. Stan was truly considering breaking his silence that came from fear of Richie’s anger and giving Bill a piece of his mind when the night was suddenly cut through with the ringing sound of gunshots. Stan let out a startled gasp and Richie’s eyes blew wide behind the lenses of his glasses.

“Is that for you, Denbrough?” Richie screamed as another shot went off.

“RICHIE! FUCKING DRIVE!”

→ → →

Beverly wiped down the counter for what was easily the tenth time that night. It wasn’t dirty, she hadn’t served a customer beside the man she was pretty sure was homeless drinking a cup of iced water in the last two hours. The last people Beverly had interacted with had beyond single word sentences had been Richie and Frankie, and she was trying to push off the lingering feeling of anxiety Richie’s phone call had left her with.

“Hey, sorry, I know it’s late but I-” A terrifying familiar voice called, following in the singing of the bell above the door. Beverly turned slowly, the dread settling in her gut. Tom Rogan the same as he always did, he might have even been wearing the same shirt he’d had on when she’d left him for her Derry reunion.

He looked as self shocked to see her as she was him. “Beverly, you’re… back in New York.”

She cursed herself for never considering that she’d run into her husband in New York. She’d chalked up to it being a large city, and if she stayed away from the places she knew that he frequented, then it wouldn’t happen. Part of her had known that she’d see Tom again one day, but she chosen to believe that it would be more on her own terms. Not nearly this unexpected.

“Uh, yes.” Beverly replied awkwardly, wiping her hands on the blue cloth. She placed it back into the sanitation bucket and took a step around the counter to her husband. There was no avoiding the situation, so she might as well face it head on. “I got back about a month ago. I’ve been staying with some friends. They’ve got cute kids.”

Tom gave her a confused look. “Bev, you hate kids.”

“I don’t hate kids.” Beverly argued immediately, thinking about Frankie’s cute little pigtails and Marty’s tiny little hands. Tom gave her a disapproving look, and she had to admit that she’d turned Tom down on kids many times during their marriage. “Well. I don’t hate their kids.”

“And you’re working here?” Tom looked around the diner with a slight turn up of his lips. It was fair, she knew. This wasn’t any high end type of diner, hence the only late night customers she’s getting being people she believed to simply have no where else to go. But maybe Beverly was one of those people who didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Well, I couldn’t just keep crashing at my friends house without giving any sort of help.” Beverly said with a shrug. She almost wished a customer would come into the store now, ask for something complicated that she probably didn’t even know how to make and Tom wouldn’t have a chance to keep talking to her.

“You never had to stay with your friends,” Tom said, sadly and quietly. He looked down at his feet and Beverly felt a quick pang of sadness for him. Maybe she’d been feeling unhappy in their marriage, but it wasn’t as though she’d ever told him that. She’d simply sat on her feelings, ones that she’d barely even known that she felt, and then she’d taken off at the first chance and never looked back. Never tried to talk to him, didn’t tell him where she was going, what she was planning. “You could have come home.”

Beverly bristled. Home. Was the fancy apartment in the West Side that belonged to her and Tom in their marriage home? No. It didn’t feel like home, had stopped feeling like home long before she’d left. Was home Eddie and Richie’s townhouse? No. Maybe at first she had hoped it do be, but she knew that that was a family of four, she was just living there. She didn’t have a true home living with Eddie and Richie.

Beverly sighed and shook her head. “I haven’t found my home yet,” she told her husband honestly. “I’m still working on that.”

Tom walked up to stand beside Beverly by the counter, resting his elbows onto it. He sighed. “Beverly, I don’t understand what happened. One second you seemed perfectly happy, then next you walking out on me. On us. On everything.”

Beverly tried to give him a sympathetic smile. “I wasn’t happy, Tom. It took me a long time to realize it but I couldn’t… I couldn’t help it after that. I had to get away.”

“Why couldn’t you have talked to me, Bev?” Tom asked quietly. He was fidgeting with the tips of his fingers the same way he had before he’d proposed. “We could have talked about it, I could have tried to be better.”

“It’s not like that,” Beverly said slowly. “I had to question myself and my wants, what I needed. I had to go to my reunion, and I wasn’t ready to talk to you about any of my thoughts yet, I’m still not really ready to. While I’ve been staying with Richie-”

“Wait, Richie?” Tom’s voice cut through her, sounding more angry than sad now. “As in your high school boyfriend that you lost your virginity to? That’s who you’re staying with?”

“Yes.” Beverly said with a frustrated sigh. “Did you miss the part where I said I was also staying with his spouse and kids? It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Oh.” Tom laughed humorlessly. “I’m just supposed to believe that you took off from our marriage, moved in with your ex boyfriend and you haven’t done anything with them?”

“I haven’t done anything with Richie since junior year!” Beverly said sharply. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with you about this bullshit.”

“So you’re telling me that in the two months since we’ve been separated you haven’t hooked up with anybody?” Tom asked her dryly.

Beverly bit her lip, thoughts of Ben’s cramped apartment and his cool sheets against her back burning in her mind. She could practically smell his skin where she’d pressed her face into his neck. Tom was raising his eyebrow at her challenging and she knew that now was that this was the make or break moment of her relationship.

“I haven’t done anything with anyone since we’ve been separated.”

→ → →

Mike walked calmly into his kitchen and poured a glass of cold water from the tap. Alexander came in behind him, wrapped up in the house coat that Mike had given him for his birthday last year. The man who had been in their bed was also by his side, still shirtless and covered in marks. Mike’s stomach was churning but he forced himself to look at Alexander.

“Okay,” Alexander cleared his throat awkwardly, looking around their once shared kitchen. “I know this looks really bad, Mike. I do. And it is, but it’s been hard for me. You left, and I had to stay behind for god knows how long! I could have handled this better, I know-”

“I’ll say.” Mike responded, not sharply, not angrily. His voice was calm and cut off. He was already shutting it out. Disconnecting himself from it completely. He pressed his knuckles into the counter behind him and leaned against it. “I’m not sure you could have handled it worse, frankly.”

“Everything was so up in the air!” Alexander cried, tears settling in his eyes. Mike had to fight not to roll his own, feeling it was nothing more than act now. Alexander didn’t feel bad, he didn’t regret anything. Mike could see it all over the place, and looking back at the way his boyfriend had been acting the last few weeks he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming. “Mike, I didn’t know what was going to happen for us-”

“You think I did?” Mike snapped before pinching at the brim of his nose. “But at least I tried! I was looking for a better place for us, I wanted to make it work! I was trying, I wasn’t sleeping with somebody else and pretending that would help! In what world does being afraid of what’s going to happen in our relationship mean that you should cheat on me?”

“Mike, I’m so sorry.” Alexander said, wiping at his running nose. Tears were falling down on his cheeks and Mike simply couldn’t bring it in himself to care about the obvious distress Alexander was feeling in that moment. If he let that guard down, let Alexander’s feelings means something, that Mike would break.

“I’m going back to New York.” Mike said, placing the now empty cup back on the counter. “But you need to be out of this house by morning.”

“What?” Alexander gasped. “Mike! Where am I supposed to live?”

“I was trying to find a place for us both to live,” Mike snapped a little spitefully, but still right. Knowing he was right, because Alexander swallowed loudly and looked away from him. “That’s not my problem anymore, but you’re not staying in my family’s house. I’ll be calling the realtor tomorrow to make sure the house is emptied.”

Alexander was still making half-aborted arguments and pleas while Mike turned and left his home in Derry forever.

→ → →

Richie turned his car angrily into a back alley and parked. He and Stan both slammed back into their seats, breathing heavily. Stan began rubbing his hands over his face as Richie yanked the car door open and rushed out of it. Stan and Bill looked at each other quickly before both fumbling out after him.

“Richie…” Stanley asked softly as Richie whipped around, glaring at them both.

“Bill, what the fuck are you going to do?” Richie cried, running his hands through his hair. He started shaking his head and he gaped at his friends. “Somebody just fucking shot at my car! You could have gotten us killed!”

Bill let out an obviously nervous laugh, starting to ring his hands. “Dude, come on. We u-u-u-used to do st-st-stupid shit all the t-t-t-time.”

Richie walked forward quickly and shoved Bill up against the brick wall behind them. “We’re not fucking teenagers anymore! We’re not just throwing our own lives away!” Richie backed away from Bill, hands shaking. “What? What? You’re just going to go to my house and look my toddler in the eyes and tell her that her dad isn’t going to be coming again? Or would you leave that for Eddie? After you explain to him that he’s now raising two kids on his own because you got yourself in over your head with some fucking druglords?”

Stan wrapped an arm around his stomach and pressed his hand over his mouth. He’d never heard Richie angry like this. Not even after everything that happened between himself and Richie all those years ago, had Richie yelled at him like that.

Richie’s eyes caught Stan’s and he almost gave out a growl. “And what about Stan, William? You just going to go up to Patty and let her know that instead of planning a wedding, she’ll be planning a funeral?”

Stan had to fight back a dry heave as he turned back to Bill. Bill was pressed up against the brick wall just as had been when Richie slammed him up, even though Richie’s hands were no longer holding him there. Richie shook his head. “Grow the fuck up, Bill, and get your fucking shit together.”

Richie turned and started walking back to his car. He stopped with his hand resting on the drivers seat door and looked up. “Uris! Are you coming?”

Stan looked back at Bill one last time before climbing into the car after Richie.

→ → →

Beverly walked slowly to Richie’s car when he finally showed up to picked her up. He was silent and sullen when she opened the passenger seat and sat down. He didn’t start the car, didn’t look at her. “Richie?” She said tentatively.

Richie hummed.

“Tom showed up at my work tonight,” She said quietly.

Richie jerked to look at her, eyes wild. She noticed then that his hands were shaking. “How did he know worked there? Is bastard stalking you? Beverly, I swear to God-”

“No, no,” Beverly started quickly shaking her head. “He seemed just as surprised to see me as I was him but we talked. He thought you and I were hooking up.” Richie let out a startled laugh and Beverly smiled. “I told him I hadn’t been with anybody since I left him but I…”

“Lied?” Richie suggested, raising his brow. There was still something off about him, something that was leaving Beverly confused and on-edge. She wanted to reach out, maybe take hold of him. Make him feel better about whatever was wrong.

“Yeah…” Beverly sighed out. “I lied. I don’t even know why I did, I don’t want to go back to him, I like being with Ben… I’m just so confused, Richie! I don’t know what’s the best thing to do.”

Richie gave her a half smile. “The best thing you could do is be with whoever makes you happy, Bev.”

And Beverly had no idea what took over her in that moment. Her stomach clenched up and she stared at Richie for a moment. She felt as though every possible human emotion that was able to felt was deep in her gut and she didn’t even notice she was moving forward until she was kissing him.

→ → →

Eddie rolled over as the bedroom door shut. It was quiet, but Eddie never failed to wake up when Richie came home. He’d tried to stay up for Richie tonight, knowing that he was going to help Bill rather than work, but he’d fallen asleep. His husband was quiet as he came in, not looking towards the bed, and his heart rushed a little bit.

“Baby?” Eddie called towards him, putting his hand up towards his mouth and nibbling at his cucital. “Are you okay?”

Richie turned to him and Eddie could see that Richie was pale even in their unlight bedroom. Eddie scrolled closer to the edge of the bed and held his arms out. “Baby, what happened?”

Richie let out a shaky breath and Eddie knew he was about to start cry. Richie dropped down onto the mattress beside him, and Eddie wrapped Richie up in his arms. “Eds… fuck. Fuck. So much shit happened tonight, fuck.” Richie mumbled into Eddie’s collarbone. “I know we don’t keep secrets, I know. I promise I will tell you fucking everything in the morning. But there was a point tonight when I thought… fuck… I thought I wouldn’t be making home at all. So, can we just… cuddle? Sleep? Please?”

Eddie’s heart got shut in his throat and he imagined for a short moment walking up and Richie having not come home. Not getting to see Richie again, and he knew nothing could be worse than that.

“Yeah, Rich. We’ll go to sleep.”

Richie hummed as Eddie laid them down, feeling how Richie was trembling. “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you, too. No matter what.”

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #benverly #benverly fic #semi charmed life #scl tag #god.... dont @ me #im sorry #its also not as bad as it looks.... mostly

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finnwolfhardd · 6 years

Text

hello, my good old friend

for the @itfandomweek prompt: angst/breakup/reunion

pairing: reddie

rating: general

warnings: mention of underage drinking

word count: 1745

1, 2, 3, puff. Breathe in, breathe out. 1, 2, 3, puff.

Eddie shakily brought up the years old inhaler. He couldn't believe how anxious he had gotten. He hadn't touched his inhaler since he was a teenager, so why did he need it now?

Eddie guessed it was because it was sort of a comforting tactic. Even though he knew he didn't have asthma, the cooling air pumping into his lungs felt more like human comfort than anything his mother had given him.

The view of the familiar Chinese restaurant hit Eddie again with another wave of nerves.

1, 2, 3, puff. Breathe in, breathe out. 1, 2, 3, puff.

Small pieces of his memory flowed in. Old situations with old friends that could last a lifetime.

It troubled Eddie, however, that it took him this long to remember such happy times in his life. Most of his life filled with pain and lies didn't help the sudden realization.

Eddie exited the taxi, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke stayed with him.

The restaurant seemed more intimidating than he might have thought before. Honestly, everything seemed ten times more intimidating than usual.

Eddie took a shaky breath and forced himself to walk into the building.

The faint smell of duck sauce and wonton filled Eddie’s senses. This didn't calm his nerves, unfortunately.

Eddie made his way over towards the hostess. She was a pretty girl, but that didn't interest Eddie one bit.

Her features reminded him of his wife, Myra. A small frail woman with such plain features. The only difference between Myra and the hostess was their expressions. Myra’s constant frown was engraved in his mind. The small smile the hostess graced was like a breath of fresh air.

“Hello, my name is Christie and I will be hosting you tonight. Table for one?” The preppy voice coming from Christie snapped Eddie out of his troubling thoughts.

He could tell she was hesitant, people don't usually come into restaurants solo. Eddie could understand the fear of offending someone on the job. He knew too much of it from his own line of work.

“Uh, oh not at all. You see, I'm joining a few old friends of mine. Under the name Hanlon. Michael Hanlon.” Eddie gave Christie a small smile, which she returned. Christie looked down at her seating log. After a few seconds of searching, she nodded her head and motioned for Eddie to follow her.

They both walked through the restaurant, weaving in and out of tables. Soon enough they arrived to a separate open room.

One large table occupied the room, enough room to fit seven people or more. Only two other people had already arrived.

“Eddie! Precisely on time as always, I see that part hasn't changed about you.” A man with kind yet tried eyes spoke to Eddie. Automatically he knew this was Mike. Bits and pieces of his memory came to.

“Mike, sorry it took so long for me to get here. The plane was slightly delayed.” Eddie laughed slightly.

He walked up to Mike and engulfed him in a hug. Even touching the man gave Eddie more clarity in his memories.

The second person in the room was already nursing a drink. Eddie couldn't recognize him automatically, but as soon as he looked up and gave Eddie a small smile his identity came as clear as day.

“Ben Hanscom? Do my eyes deceive me or did you grow from our little poet?” Eddie spoke with a smile pulling at his lips. With how much Ben has changed, Eddie wondered if this was the boy his mind keeps nagging about.

Ben laughed bashfully. He placed down his drink with a soft clink and pushed himself off of his seat. With Ben standing at his full height, Eddie could fully see the changes he had gone through. Yet he still wasn’t so sure this was the man that Eddie asked a divorce over.

“Can say the same about you too, Kaspbrak. It’s crazy how much I missed you, but it feels like it all came at once just now.” Ben walked over towards Eddie and outstretched his arms for a hug. The shorter male accepted the form of affection.

“I feel the exact same way, it’s crazy.” The three men laughed in a mix of discomfort and tension. They all went to go sit at the large table together. Silence filled the air quickly, could you blame them? Last time they saw each other they were just teenagers.

Mike was the first one to end the awkwardness. Of course this settled a three men into nostalgia, missing the days where Mike always had something to talk about. Whether it be a question or plain out genuine compliments to the friends he had.

“How about we talk about what the two of you have done with your lives, I missed twenty-two years of it and I’d like to be caught up.” Mike’s eyes carried a lot of tiring, lonely years in them. Yet they also shone with glee to be reunited with his friends once again.

———————

The evening went on with many jokes and recollections passed around the table. At some point during the night Beverly and Bill walked into the dining space conversing wildly. Seeing them together brought a painful memory back to him, Eddie at 15 years old consoling a drunk Ben.

I just- I don’t know why it hurts so much Eddie! I should be happy for them, right? So why do I care so much that she wants to be with him but not me. Ugh, I am never going to drink again.

Eddie looked away from the pair, memories of a crush creeping up on him. His attention turned over towards Ben, whose eyes didn’t drift from Beverly.

Eddie could see out of the corner of his eye what was happening with Beverly and Bill, even though he didn’t want to. He could see Bill stop Bev from fully walking into the dining room. His hands carelessly drifting from her hands to cradle her face. God, Eddie didn’t want to be witness to this anymore, especially more since he could see a ring on Bill’s left hand.

Eddie’s stomach clenched for Ben when he could see Bill lean in for a kiss. He closed his eyes so that he didn’t need to see anymore than he already had. That’s when he heard a high-pitched squeal. Eddie’s eyes snapped open to see Beverly move away from Bill’s grasp, her bright red lipstick still intact.

“Ben? Benjamin Hanscom? Looks more like Ben Handsome.” Beverly, practically skipping, made her way towards Ben. She pulled him out of his chair and placed a kiss on his cheek as well as trapping him in a hug.

All the men in the room could see how flustered Ben had gotten at Beverly’s comment, it was even more amusing knowing that he had equally as good compliments as before but he never gave them any mind.

Ben and Bev sat down next to each other, easily falling back into normal conversation. This ended up in Bill sitting next to Eddie, the other married man happy to have someone to talk to besides the woman he was just rejected by.

“Hey, Ed, how’ve you been?” And just like that Eddie fell into conversation again, the back of his mind still poking at him about a bespeckled boy.

———————

By this time of the night, the group had already ordered their food. They all assumed the other two men they were waiting on were either not coming or are just going to be too late for dinner.

The joking amongst the group had died down a bit, the side effect of full stomachs was their inevitable need for rest. They were just about to leave the restaurant too, everyone insisting that they pay for the meals. The small meaningless argument stopped abruptly when someone walked in who wasn’t their waitress.

Eddie looked up to see just the man he had been unknowingly waiting for the entire night. Except this time it didn’t take him a second to remember who he was, the minute Eddie made contact with those blue eyes, he knew who he was.

Richie Tozier.

Except there was a large difference between the last time Eddie had seen Richie. This new, maybe improved, version of Richie was much taller than Eddie remembered. His hair was still unruly, however now there was some seen effort in calming the mess. Five o’clock shadow ever apparent. And his smile, holy hell his smile, was even brighter than the one Eddie fell for. After years of wearing colourful braces, Richie finally had that award-winning smile he bragged about getting.

Eddie reached for his drink as he watched Richie go around giving pleasantries and jokes around the table. Just as Eddie finished up his scotch, he could feel Richie approaching his side.

“Eds, my love, how have you been these past twenty-two years without me?” Richie spoke smoothly, his voice a bit hoarse from the years of adolescent smoking.

Eddie choked on the last drops of his drink, his coughing blocked with a handkerchief he quickly whipped out. Eddie brought up his free hand to stop Richie from talking anymore before he got a say in anything. That hand just happened to be his left hand.

“Oh… Married man, I see. Who’s the lucky lady?” The deflated emotion in Richie’s voice would have been obvious if Eddie wasn’t currently dying.

“Ack! Her name is Myra. Ugh, a-actually we’re separated. We just-- um, we need the papers filed is all and then I’ll be divorced from her.” Eddie didn’t know why he needed to clarify that to Richie. He also didn’t know why he felt the need to take off his ring and chuck it into the sewer all of a sudden.

“Ah.” Richie breathed out. And that was that, there wasn’t much more to the conversation. The two men fell into comfortable silence, as if there was never a rift between them.

Just like old times, Richie’s hands found their way to Eddie. Be it around his shoulders or placed against his knee, Richie Tozier still could not stray away from him. Eddie didn’t think he wanted him to leave anyway. Which reminded him of something.

“Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah, Eds?”

“Next time Richie ‘Records’ Tozier decides to spam my inbox with spaghetti pictures, I’m calling the police.”

#reddie #it 2017 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #lxs fic

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chuckaliciousbby-blog · 7 years

Text

disconnected || chapter one

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

The summer of 1962 was a summer of green grass and skinned knees, and to the boys that occupied Darry, Maine, that seemed to be a fairly suiting sentiment. What made it stand out against 1959, and 1961, and all the other years since 1958, was how thin the ice was getting. Patience with the mean kids was running out.

About a month ago. In May, Henry broke Bill’s noes by smashing it on a brick wall. It would not stop bleeding. Even one of the nurses was concerned. It looked like special effects in the movies Richie still liked to drag them to. (Didn’t he ever get tired of being scared?) And just a week before that, he slammed Mike’s fingers in a door so hard they turned black-ish-blue, and they had to go to the emergency room, even though Mike vehemently protested. Last time he was in a hospital was to see his dad. “The swelling will go down,” He said, eyes watering, “it’s fine. Like stubbing your toe.”

So Henry was the terror of 1962. Henry was the shadow under the bridge. Henry was the cracked branch on a silent night. And patience was running out like sand in an hour glass. This demonstrated itself specially on Bill. Bill liked risks. Never in an obvious way. But in the way he speed through oncoming traffic on Silver the Speeding Bike, in the way he dares her to tip over as he roars around corners. And he was angry. For a lot of things. And Richie watched it pile up, all that anger. But it’s still Big Bill were talking about.

Big Bill with everything under control.

Stan stood under a street light in front of his house, with his perpetually neat stance and narrow shoulders. He looked professional. The sun had set. Bill walked up, and he was a much broader, red headed boy. They looked secretive, in a way, for the first few seconds of silent walking up. But when they smiled, there were no more secrets. Just friendly faces. Bushes rustled. Stans watch beeped the hour. 9:00.

“Wuh-Why so l-l-late?” Bill asked. And if it were Richie, he wouldn’t have. If it were Mike or Bev or even Eddie, he wouldn’t have. But Stan went to bed at 8:00pm, and 8:30 was pushing it. He always fell asleep on New Year’s Eve, never could make it till midnight.

“The stars had to be out,” and he looked like a wise old owl up at the stars, and they seemed to look back at him. Stan lead him around to the backyard of his house, where there was a telescope set up. This was normal Stan antics. He liked to show people things that made him happy, and that dull sense of glee that he seemed to have when he discovered something new was enough to make anyone smile. Bills initial prediction, as they approached the telescope, was that he was going to look through, and see some kind of bird. (Some kind of star loving bird?) It flashed through his mind though, for only a second, that there would be a giant, mythological bird, on the other end of it. That he would look through and see Mike’s winged beast. But all he saw were stars, when he pressed his eye to it. He looked to Stan, pleasant and confused.

A bush rustled. A twig snapped. Bill flicked on a flashlight and scanned the area. He wasn’t scared.

“Look again until you see it, Big Bill. You’ll see it.” Stan said. And really believed it. He thought that maybe they could show it to Eddie on his birthday. Eddie was turning 16 in two days.

There was a moment where Bill just looked, and contemplated. Like a child inquiring about a Picasso painting.

“Is th-that- an ahsp-aspirator?” The constellation made the rough shape of an aspirator, if his mind stretched a little, and maybe squinted his left eye.

“Mhm.” Stan nodded, and Bill laughed a little, “not really. It’s a coincidence.” Stan stepped in to look through the telescope, as Bill stepped back, “but maybe we could show eddie, like- give him a bunch of stars for his birthday.”

Bill chuckled. And he was about to joke about how cheap that was. But then there was a noise. A human noise, out in the bushes that outlined Stans yard. And both of them turned, bills flashlight making a little moon on the damp grass. Stan was standing neatly on a piece of stone walkway, Bills shoes were wet in the grass.

“Should we go inside?” Stan asked, shoving his hands in his sweater pocket, in a way that made his shoulders tense.

Bill didn’t answer, only called out into the shadows, “Ruh-Ruh-Richie?” Something definitely moved, “nuh-not funny!” And someone laughed. Henry laughed. They would recognize it anywhere.

“Let’s go inside.” Stan insisted. And Bill stood for a second, squinting into the darkness, watching the figure appear from the bushes. It was Henry, alright. It was the only person who might very well be just as insane as his father is - who else but the Bowers kid would be insane?

Stan left his perch on the stone path and tugged on bills sweater, because if he wasn’t going to move himself out of the way of danger, Stan was going to have to make him.

Bill gave in. Because yes, that was Henry for sure, no doubt. And yes, he was up to no good. But part of him, the part of him that waited to really confirm it was Henry, wanted to stay and fight. Because Henry had terrorized them for so long, ever since elementary school, longer, even. He probably started plotting against them the second he popped out of his mother’s womb. But he was bigger than both Stan and Bill, they didn’t have a chance today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not (probably not).

And that’s one of many reasons Bill hated him so much, because he couldn’t beat him alone. He was helpless in a one on one fight, he could do nothing more than struggle when faced with that monster of a 17 year old alone. So he let Stan drag him off, and felt a chill of eagerness run down his spine, Henry was after them now. Henry, and by the sounds of the footsteps following them, at least two recruited followers. He could hear the give of the wet grass under their torn up sneakers, getting closer by the second.

When Stan gripped the doorknob, Bill anticipated the warm air that smelled like Stan, and delicate light, and that creak that was never mended. But there was only Stans panicked, adult expression snapping over at him when the door didn’t budge.

“It’s locked.”

Bill turned around, because he was quick on his feet. If one door is locked, another one has to be open. Wasn’t that how the saying goes? But Henry was at the bottom of the stairs, he’d have to run past him to get away, they were trapped. Bill knocked on the door, rang the doorbell.

“No ones home! No ones home, Bill.” Stan informed him, and his voice was accepting and antsy. Like he couldn’t wait to get this over with.

“Couple of fagolas stargazing together?”

Bill looked visibly angry.

“Gonna get fucking beat, Urine.” And then he turned to Bill, “you too, Denbrough.” And he grimaced.

The pair of them backed up to the railing of the small porch that lead to the back door. Both of them knew what was coming.

“Sk-screw off, Henry.” Bill said, and he tried his best not to stutter. Henry had one foot of the bottom of the three stairs, he looked like some deranged animal waiting to pounce, but not with any grace. Like someone had shot him with a tranquilizer and he just wouldn’t pass out.

“Not likely.”

And Stan looked down, behind him - how far would it be to jump and make a run for it? He concluded that it was too far.

Henry advanced before you could say ‘aspirator’, and he grabbed Stan by the shirt collar, wrinkling a perfectly ironed masterpiece of a boy. Henry’s friends were right behind him, happy to restrain Bill when the time came.

“How’s your face feeling?”

Parking lot of a restaurant he had been dragged to, everyone had gone home, and he had stayed to wait for his mom to pick him up. He insisted, “no, you go. She’ll be here soon.” But she wasn’t soon enough. Because Henry had gotten there first. Because Stan already had a big gash on his face from where it skidded on the evening pavement. Cool and sweltering all at the same time, it would scar, probably.

Stan didn’t answer.

“Can’t you talk english?”

“Get of-off him, H-H-Henry!” Bill exclaimed, and pulled at his shoulder, but it was really no use. The losers had grown, of course. They had gotten older since 1958, but they hadn’t gotten as big as Henry. No one could realistically catch up with him. And the losers were still pretty scrawny. With the exception of Ben, and maybe Mike, with all that farm boy muscle and a runner’s physique.

“Shut the fuck up, mushmouth.” one of the not-so-welcome henchmen grabbed him, and pushed him back. It appeared the time had come for the new but not improved Bowers gang to restrain him.

Henry shook him, although the effect ended up as more of a push than anything. Stan hit the railing, a red mark spread across his back, under his shirt. Hidden but present.

“So, still hurt?” Henry said, looking at the scab on his face, and it felt like a threat, “I fucking hope it does.”

Bill thrashed and momentarily shook off one of his captors; however just before he could get ahold of the back of Henry’s shirt, he was back in their grasp.

“Wish it would hurt more?”

Stan braced himself, shrinking away against the railing.

“No!” Bill called, as if trying to answer for him.

“Shut up.” the boy on his left arm chuckled at him, as if at a small child who was throwing a temper tantrum.

Henry hiked his elbow into the air and hit him, and Stan gasped and scuffed back against the railing to try to escape and duck away. But Henry pushed him in the direction he had ducked, so he tripped forward, hitting his head on the door. A loud bang sounded as his skull hit hard wood. The henchmen laughed. Bill noticed his forehead was bleeding, he fell over. Henry advanced on him, and Bill managed to struggle close enough to kick him in the shin.

“Fuck,” he cussed sharply, “i’ll get to you next, asshole, chill the fuck out.”

“Quit it, Henry.” Bill pleaded, but he retained that voice of authority that Bev liked so much.

“No.” And with that dismissal, he knelt down and grabbed the soft curls on the back of Stan’s head, and smashed it down onto the wooden floor of the deck. He let out a violent groan. He could practically feel his face bruise and swell and bleed. Bill struggled against the boys holding him back. One of them hit him. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“G-Get off me!”

Henry repeated the assault, and Stan cried out. He was almost certain his nose would look like hell for a few days, maybe even weeks - he could never get the duration of injuries sorted out. Bill surged forward, struggling, as he has been, to intervene. He was close enough to kick him. Hard enough to shock him.

“Hey, Bill.” he coughed, “your just making it worse.” he stood, and he kicked Stan twice, and to Stan, he said, with a savage tone to his voice, unique to movie villains and high school bullies, “From your friend, Stuttering Bill here.”

They looked like a frantic portrait then. Lit by the side by a yellow porch light, swarmed in moths, casting dramatic shadows across all their features. The shadow of Henry’s crooked nose stretched half across his face. Bill’s whole expression void of shadow, he was facing the light, and sometimes he would struggle and twist and light would distort and exaggerate his features. And his two captors shrouded in shadow, under hoods, grasping desperately at him in an attempt to detain. Stan lied face down, bony shoulders tense and drawn in, hands trying to protect his face. And the door opened - the one which he had smashed his head into just a few moments before - and a different variety of light swam onto the porch, and Mr.Uris stood, looking at the sight. At the painting of teenage violence.

Like a play, he thought, a play, on a small stage, for an audience of zilch.

Henry’s henchmen stopped fighting so hard, and seemed to look fearfully to him for direction. They knew what happened to the last people who abandoned him in a fight.

After a moment of taking in the sight, cool, rational Mr.Uris stated the facts, “I’m calling the cops.”

‘Might do you better to call an ambulance, sir.’ The boy on bill’s right - youngest there, actually - thought to himself; but he was to irrelevant to talk, and he knew it.

“I dare you.” Henry got up in his space, and the alarm on Stanley’s father’s expression was unmistakable. Henry’s jaw was clenched, as if to taunt, you can’t hurt me if you tried. You can’t hurt me with the police, the asylums, or your damned fists. I’m invincible. Try me.

“Let’s go!” Henchman A - as he’s called at the end of the movie when the credits finally roll - protested. Henry glanced over at him with an evil glare - movie villain-esque. And Uris Senior used the time away from the intimidating glance of the bully to pull the wall phone off its stand and dial the police. A quick and fluid 911, sent through the air waves.

Henry hated to be beat. It’s a well known fact. Beating Henry is like swatting at a wasp, and not quite killing it, but hitting it enough to piss it off. You just make it worse. You just get stung. But he knew that if he got in trouble again, he would be tried as an adult. He was old enough now, and he had repeated his offenses so much that the system was losing patience. He was on thin ice. This time would be jail time, and “these losers just aren’t worth it”. So he bolted. His obedient followers ran after him in much the same fashion. And so, as they disappeared into the forest on the edge of Stan’s property, Bill heard Mr.Uris asking for an ambulance.

Please, for god’s sake, get him medical attention, he’s hurt hurry up, please, please, he’s not okay

Bill knelt down beside Stan, and didn’t know what to tell him, because he was still face down, bleeding a red stain onto the wood, but he was conscious. He whispered, “They’re guh-guh-gone. You’re guh-gonna b-be fine.”

But Henry’s going to get away with it. Henry’s going to get away with it again.

Bill knew, that if Stan’s dad was anything like Stan himself, he wasn’t going to call the police after the hospital came.

Bill watched the ambulance drive away down a street lit by moonlight. Leaving no tracks.

_____

Richie sat at a dining room table, half covered in old coupons that were in the process of being sorted. His head was in his hands, there was one problem plaguing him, and it was such an odd thing to be on his mind, in the big scheme of things, considering what was happening on the Uris back porch at the moment. But his ideas concerning Eddie’s birthday present were null - although it seemed like it should be easy for him. It was always easy. Because he knew what his friends liked. There were always the safe bets: like a book for Ben, and a sketchbook for Bev, something about birds for Stan the Man. And then there were the jokes, the things that people opened and then glared at him for; like the time he got Bill a megaphone with the words ‘so you can boss us around from a distance’ on its tag, and had it thrown at him. So the problem with a gift for Eddie, was that there was simply so much he wanted to give him. He was thinking about a medical dictionary, so he can “diagnose himself with better accuracy.”. But then there was also getting him a nightlight as a tease - because he knew that Eddie still used one. (Although, to be fair, he claimed that it was only there so that he didn’t trip over anything when he tried to go to the washroom in the middle of the night.) But he couldn’t settle on anything, and god did he regret leaving this decision for the last moment; he thought about how Stan had gotten him a present last month, because Stan was never late, and always prepared.

Good ol’ Stan.

So he stared at the coupons fanned out on the old surface of their dining table, hoping for inspiration from domestic cleaning products. What was he going to get out of that? Windex? Even the medical dictionary was a better idea than that, and really, that wasn’t a very good idea. (If Eds threw a whole dictionary at him it would hurt.)

But exactly the right thing hit him, at exactly the right time. Which surprised him so much he stood up fast enough to make the chair he was sitting in rock back on its hind legs - he grabbed it before it could fall. Because Richie Trashmouth Tozier never thought of the right thing, let alone at the right time, and actually said the right thing even less. But he knew that his idea. This one was a winner.

And then he thought of the price. And that was a whole other predicament.

Richie walked to where his dad sat in the living room, the cool glow of the television projecting onto his features. He knew, with clarity that he wished would be fuzzier, that his dad was not going to just give him the money. So looking for ways to earn it was a much better rout.

“So, pops,” he asked, sliding into a chair opposite his dad, in a way that he thought was smooth, but clearly wasn’t, “got anyt-”

“What do you want, Richie?” his father asked, peeling his attention away from the TV and casting a sly, knowing look at his son.

“Cash. Dinero, you know what i mean?.”

“And what do you, Rich, need more money for?” Wentworth Tozier mocked interest.

“To be frank, Hank, I need more money so i can spend it, whatcha think about that?” he asked, and propped his head up with his hands, on an invisible desk.

“Do you really want to know, what i think about that?”

Richie nodded his head.

“The basement, what you kids refer to as the ‘downstairs’” he dragged the word out, “needs a thorough cleaning, you know?”

“Blimey, Anythin’ but da basemun’! Yeah?” Richie pleaded, in his slightly off cockney accent, and he pushed his glasses up, eyebrows tensed in distaste.

“Five dollars for it.”

And Richie was about to protest further, and offer up alternatives in a very musical, Mary Poppins impression (even if 5 dollars was probably the best offer he’s gotten from him in a while), but he was cut off.

“Five dollars or nothing, Rich. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

And he gave up, and stood as if at attention, saluted, and marched off. A pleasant little 16 year old soldier in mismatched socks, walking down to the basement to do the worst, and most time consuming, chore in the whole house.

Boy oh boy Eds, if you knew the things I did for you.

#reddie #eddie kasprak #richie tozier #eddie and richie #richie and eddie #bill denbrough #stanley uris #stenbrough #IT #fanfiction #disconnected #disconnected|it

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