Chapter Text
Amy's music was turned up so loud, you'd think an earthquake was happening. One (Remastered) by Metallica was blasting through the open sunroof and rolled down windows. The Trans Am was moving so incredibly fast that it would've been dangerous to stop it by the brakes. You'd just have to let off the gas peddle and let it slow to a stop, whenever that'd even be. But that's what Belch was doing. He just didn't have his foot on the peddle anymore. His hat's grip was stronger than he'd imagined, seeing as he was sure it'd have blown off from the wind.
The Trans AM, Amy, smelled of marijuana and fireball. Probably due to the never ending memories of smoking that sweet, sweet green stuff and the bottles of Fireball that the crew stashed for long nights. The crew had lots of long nights. Lots. For nights that a dirty blonde was beat or a brunette was sick of his family. Or a bottle blonde was being vulnerable. That's what was happening currently. Belch was driving the crew to a spot far, far away from Derry, Maine. Well. Not too far. A good hour. But that's pretty far for they're small town. And it was a vulnerable night. A bottle blonde night. A night for Vic.
Weirdly enough, the gang never judged Vic for a vulnerable moment. He was more than likely the only boy in the whole world that could show vulnerability to the other three, without the other three judging them. The dirty blonde hated when boys in particular, showed vulnerability. But it didn't matter what he was doing (for the most part), if Vic needed a vulnerable night, they'd give him one.
Vic only had a vulnerable night about once a month. The brunette had running away nights about 2-3 times a month. And Henry. The dirty blonde. Had many nights to himself and the boys. Really, he was always with the boys and himself. But not like when they went to their spot. Their he could blow off some steam in a more healthy way.
However, that's why it's acceptable for Vic to have vulnerable nights. They weren't real often.
Amy pulled into they're spot. That spot just after a line of trees with a field beyond. They all slowly piled out, the dirty blonde bringing his seat forward for the two in the back.
Belch brought the blanket up and then back down, laying it out. Henry had a bottle of Fireball in each hand, separately. He sat down and put the bottles beside him, the brunette putting his tin case of the green stuff on the ground and sprawling out.
Vic came over and sat, his face turning a shade of pink that it always did when he was about to cry.
"I'm sorry." He chocked out, knees coming up and bending, hands reaching up to cover his face.
Henry watched him do so, and felt slightly uncomfortable, as he always felt when people cried. He felt better when it was Vic doing the crying than other people, but the fact still stood. He's sure he heard Belch assure him that's 'it's okay' and to 'take his time'. The dirty blonde glanced at the brunette. Said boy had the blonde's pocket knife and was carving pieces off of a wood block to shape something that wasn't important in the moment. "Pat..." Henry mumbled, eyes watching the brunettes moves the whole way.
Patrick's eyes snapped up to his in a rapid speed. His blue irises showed little to no emotion, but it was present. Pupils grew and then shrunk real small again. The circles then snapped back down to the wooden block, already understanding what Henry wanted. His left hand put the block down, the right handing Henry the knife back.
Henry glowered at him and then took it, placing the object in his pocket afterwards.
"I just- I. I'm sorry, Henry. I don't mean to studder, dude."
The blonde just looked up at him, shaking his head and his eyebrows furrowed, "It's alright, continue." This was also the only time that Henry had a little empathy or sympathy for the gang. Or for people in general.
"It's just. My old man expects me to take over the family business and any time I'm not, it's like I'm some disappointment. And then, then." Vic's voice cracked, and he put his head back down between his knees. A loud sob was heard. Patrick lit a long joint and then nudged the bottle blonde.
"Hmm, Pat?" Vic sniffled, glancing up, cheek stained tears on display.
Pat handed him the joint, a small thing that from Patrick, was a large thing. A huge thing, actually.
Vic took the joint and took such a big hit that barely any smoke emitted from his face. He made eye contact with Henry. Henry just leaned back and waved his hand as to continue.
The first couple of times that the crew had vulnerable nights for Vic, Henry wasn't very nice. Very cruel actually. But then Belch got on him, and even Patrick a few times (surprisingly enough). After that, Henry was calmer and more accepting of it.
"My mom told me that if I don't finish off the year with a 4.5, which isn't even fucking possible, that'd she'd send me off to some boarding school next year." He hiccuped, "meaning that I'd have to up my GPA by .5 in 2 weeks."
"But they can't send you away, if it's not humanely possible..." Patrick mumbled, not understanding that Vic quite literally, just explained that. Vic's mouth slightly gaped open and his head snapped at him. Henry rolled his eyes and tried not to snicker at how stupid Patrick could be sometimes while Belch threw a rock at him.
"Gee thanks, Pat. I didn't know that. Really, thanks." Vic groaned, hand bringing the joint back up to take a hit.
He was shaking now. Tears were still rolling down his face, but slower.
The boy's sat in silence for the rest of the night. Small little phrases being said but nothing big. They all respected that this was Vic's way of calming himself down.
And before they knew it, it was real late and they needed to be heading home. So they did. They packed up their shit and headed home. Henry to his abusive father, Patrick to his sane parents, Vic to his strict and over pushing parents, and Belch to the gorgeous women in his life.
Belch was the only one who enjoyed going home. And once he was, he got himself and the house ready for bed. Keys on the little jewelry dish that was made for him. Doors locked. Candles blown out. Checking on Mama and coming in to kiss her on her head and tuck her in. Making sure the TV is turned off on the way to his last stop.
He listened through the door to hear any noise he was unaware of. And when finding none, he slowly opened the door and snuck into the room. The half asleep girl cracker her eyes open and whined upon seeing the light from the hallway.
"'M sorry. Just doing my nightly rounds." The brunette mumbled, walking over to the girl's window to shut it and instead turn on the fan. He shut the curtains too, knowing it freaked the girl out to have them open. His legs took him over to her lit candle on her vanity, head leaning down to blow out the wicks.
He then went to talk out of the room before hearing the girls voice, "Reg?"
Belch hummed and turned, seeing the girl squint and then pat infront of her. He slowly walked over and sat down, hand reaching up to brush the hair out of her face.
"Where were you?"
"Out with the boys, Vic had a rough night."
"He okay?"
"Mhm, absolutely. Wouldn't have left him alone if he wasn't. How was your day, sis?"
"Boring. Missed you and Amy, not even gonna lie."
Belch laughed at that and rolled his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the head, "Misses you too. We can go out tomorrow together, alright? You can pick the music even."
She smiled and nodded, giving him a small, half hug.
"I love you, Reg. Goodnight."
"I love you. G'night."
The boy carried down the small hallway to his room, changing and then climbing into bed. Willow, the family cat, curled up with him and began to make biscuits into his chest.
He laughed and pet her before letting himself slowly drift off, not a thought in mind.
However, the girl in the room next to him did fall asleep with a thought on her mind. A special someone.
That special someone being none other than her brothers best friend.
A dirty blonde with barely any empathy or sympathy.
Henry Bowers.