Chapter Text
Text Message
From, Eddie Spaghetti: please come over Rich, the window’s open as always
Before fully processing the message, the dark-haired boy hopped off of his bed and made his way out of the house, ignoring the shouting feud his parents shared behind and hurried towards a rusty, blue Jeep that stood in its everyday habitat in the driveway in front of him.
As he entered, various smells of cherry filled his senses. A low tune played inside the vehicle as he drove.
Soon, Richie was climbing through a familiar window frame. He noticed a rather large looking bed with a small person with messy hair in tears spread out horrifyingly in the middle of it.
His face was buried in the palms of his hands with only delicate whimpers escaping his purple lips.
“Shit.” He cursed. “Eddie?” left his mouth as he jogged up to the bed and sat on the edge of it, trying not to rock it too hard.
Worries fled through his mind and unpleasant scenarios whizzed deep in his thoughts, still getting nothing but sniffles in return. Gently, he brought his pointing finger to the boy’s chin, lifting it slightly. Messy smears of red blotches cascaded from his hooded eyes, leaving Richie in shock.
“You gotta talk to me.” He exhaled worriedly.
Once again, Eddie let out a cry however this time, he hid himself inside of Richie’s jean jacket. Weak arms clung onto the denim material as if it were a loose string of rope and he was hanging from a cliff.
There was something about his sobs that made the situation almost dangerous. It sounded, to Richie’s ears, like the petit boy held back rivers of tears, too afraid to let them flow because it’ll shatter his soul into bits. Richie knew this pain like the back of his hand: heartbreak.
With one swift motion, Richie picked him up and carried him to an en suite bathroom then sat him down on the shut toilet seat and switched the light on.
The sudden rays of brightness made Eddie’s eyes itch, but he hadn’t dared to rub them for any longer, already thinking of himself as a red racoon.
Once he had adjusted to the surroundings, his gaze focused on the person in front of him – currently holding a piece of white cloth to wipe the tears off of his face but instead of letting Richie do so, Eddie hid his face from his view, ashamed he had seen him in this state.
No one, not even his mother, had ever seen Eddie Kaspbrak fall apart. He was too afraid. Afraid of the judgement that comes along with it. His mentality told him that sadness is weakness and of all things, Eddie was not weak.
Timidly, he took the material from Richie’s warmth and started wiping it roughly against the fragile freckles that laid across his nose and cheekbones.
The thing he was feared was Richie’s opinion on the situation. Eddie found himself wondering why he hadn’t texted someone else, probably Beverly – maybe even Mike, he didn’t really know why Richie was the first person he thought of but awhile it lasted, he was glad it came to him.
Richie wouldn’t judge me, Eddie secretly hoped, although he knew that questions were being asked in the opposing boy’s head.
The thing he appreciated though, was that Richie didn’t allow those questions to come out. He just stood above him, watching desperately as Eddie cried into himself more and more by the minute.
To be honest, Richie had no fucking clue what to do. He’d never been the type to comfort someone and being brought up in a house like his, he himself was surprised he even made it to Eddie’s house. But now, he was there, watching the honey-eyed boy fall apart completely in front of him. After a while he was over it. No more of him could watch Eddie drown in his tears, he was too worthy to do so.
“Eds.” Richie realized that the tone of his voice was sharp yet comfortingly concerned; almost enough to soften the sobs.
So close, he thought aloud, making Eddie stiffen. took in a sharp inhale.
“Rich,” Eddie tried. Every word that found its way out after was mumbles tied with ugly sniffles. After a moment, Eddie brought himself together to say, “R-Richie.”
The panic in his voice made Richie’s curly head spin. The thought of Eddie in pain haunted him, he, out of everyone, was never one to break down crying from displeasure or show displeasure for that matter.
Unless it came to how dirty Richie’s glasses were, or when Ben wouldn’t stop blabbing on about how magnificent Beverly’s smile looked during fourth period on Tuesdays or when they ordered pizza with mushrooms on it. Or when Mike begged to watch Big Daddy for the seventeenth time during a sleepover at Bill’s… or perhaps Eddie did show displeasure a lot but not like this.
This was very different and it scared Richie a lot.
Out of order, Eddie slid his little body off of the toilet seat and covered his face one more time, but he wasn’t bothered about Richie’s opinion anymore.
Richie just stood and watched him, confusion and concern written on his face. He watched him with a pale face and a blank mind. He watched Eddie like Charlie watched a penny on the ground for a chocolate bar from his favourite childhood movie: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, ready to buy his prize.
But that wasn’t what Richie thought, he didn’t think of Eddie as a prize. He was too damn good to be labelled as anything. Anything but Richie’s everything.
He slowly brought his large, skinny hands to the back of Eddie’s head and caressed it like the growing hairs on were silk. It smelled like ground cinnamon and sugar spice, he smelled so freaking homily, Richie remembered what home felt like.
The scent brought him back in time to a Thanksgiving dinner he once shared with his dad, mom, older sister Lily and his best friend’s Bill’s family.
He recalled how their families cracked jokes (probably where the whole ‘Richie Tozier’s my name and jokes are my game’ thing started) and seemed so happy. Everything was so much different when you’re seven years young, he thought.
Everything was so simple. Another sharp intake of breath tore his longing memories from reality. His vision fixed on the shattered boy in front of him.
He noticed Eddie’s usually honey brown orbs turned low and bloodshot, that the bags under his eyes now travelled down his face to reach just above the tip of his nose; his pink lips tinted a dark purple shade. He was a mess.
The most beautiful mess Richie’s eyes have ever laid upon.
“I- I need to g-go. I need to leave Derry.” He whimpered.
Soon, Richie’s patience cut the line and he rubbed the bridge of his nose nervously before speaking, “Eddie, please just tell me what the hell happened. I’m going out of my freaking mind!” he said sternly, his gaze focused on Eddie’s eyes.
They were completely drained – must have been for hours. In this moment, Richie promised himself to never let Eddie get to this state in his life ever again, because he might just have a heart attack at the sight of tears in Eddie’s beautiful eyes.
“Why do you wanna leave? What happened? Is it about your mom?” Richie pleaded, knowing how badly Mrs. K affected Eddie sometimes. He couldn’t stand to see his Eddie like this, the boy had no control over his own body. Storms of tears streamed from his eyes per minute and he couldn’t do anything about it.
Eddie took his last inhale before choking out, “I can’t. Stay here. Please.”
“It’s Jake. He… he did something… Rich. He did something to me…” Eddie hesitated, and Richie’s blood fucking boiled at the sound of that stupid name.
“I know it’s late but… take me somewhere. Ben’s car broke down and Bill wasn’t picking up (he lied). Please, Chee.” Without second thought, Richie squeezed Eddie’s hand in assurance before smiling pearly teeth at him.
“Get ready, pack whatever you need to pack, and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Just remember, remember I’m gonna be here for you and help you get through. Okay, Eddie?” He assured and brought Eddie into his rough denim covered arms. They exchanged smiles, went back into Eddie’s dim-lit room.
After gathering his keys into his back-jean pocket, Richie climbed out of the wooden window with a calmed expression on his face.