Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The jokes about beating Max Jägerman‘s ass that night had been just that: jokes. They were supposed to just scare the shit out of him, let him experience some of the terror he inflicted on a daily basis. And it did work, kind of, but turns out his unchecked aggression also contributed to a rather strong fight response to the perceived danger. Steph was the one to step in, with the nerds emerging from their hiding spots or losing parts of their costumes to reveal themselves.

But instead of the fury they anticipated, Max went quiet for a moment. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the adrenaline wearing off, but either way Richie couldn’t help but clutch his camera and anxiously wait for the other shoe to drop. Any second Max would fully realize what they had done, tricking him, attempting to humiliate him, to film that humiliation and ruin his reputation-

“What? You’re telling me you nerds put this whole thing together, just for me?”

Yup, there it was. Time to die.

“..Wow. I thought you guys hated me.”

...What.

No fury, no rage, Max just stood there with glassy eyes and tousled hair and a weirdly vulnerable expression on his face as he looked around the group. Richie was grateful for the suffocating shadows of Waylon Hall, feeling no need to avoid Max’s gaze in the darkness. The vulnerability gave way to a soft, genuine smile as he turned to appreciate the room they were in.

“But, uh, thanks. This was really great.” And it was genuine , the most sincere thing Richie had ever heard come from him. The soft smile grew more excited as he looked closer at Ruth’s shitty Halloween costume. Pete was tense, making sure to keep Steph between him and Max as he dared ask what they were all thinking.

“You’re not.. pissed?”

They all flinched when Max’s head jerked towards Pete, but he still had a jovial air as he pointed at him in that jock way.

“Ohhoho! Are you kidding?” Silence. “No, no no, this is like, the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” And wasn’t that just an insane statement. None of them knew what to say to that, not when he was so obviously serious and happy for it. But thankfully Max was still quite intoxicated and the joy of learning that the haunts were fabricated ‘just for him’ had him excitedly running around the space recounting his fear. The floorboards creaked in a concerning way, Max weighed more than any of them and his movements were fast and unsteady. Richie couldn’t help but stare at the ground as Max continued his praises for Pete and Ruth’s performances.

It was just after he had given Ruth a little bow, commending her specifically for her “skele’un”, and turned to start pacing as he went on about how he had them figured all wrong, that this was a killer party-

The boards snapped, Max cut himself off with a choked noise and stumbled forward as his foot went straight through the floor. Richie heard everyone’s shocked gasps around him, was sure the high pitched yelp came from himself, and felt his body move without conscious input, dropping his camera and lunging to grab onto Max’s outstretched arm. His entire right leg had fallen through, but the weight of his body falling made the surrounding boards crack and splinter like empty eggshells and now it was more like he was dangling over a pit of pure black. Richie was braced on his knees, clutching his left arm with both hands, and Max had his forearm in a death grip in return. Richie couldn’t tell if he had anything else to brace himself with, Max’s other arm seemed to be trapped between his chest and the jagged edges of the flooring but it looked like his jeans had snagged on one of the edges as well. That was the only explanation for how they were still up, seeing as Richie was very sure they both should’ve been pulled over the edge at that point. Now wasn’t the time to make the universe remember how things should be though.

Thankfully the cloth of Max’s letterman provided a rather strong grip even with Richie’s increasingly sweaty palms. It felt like an eternity, gritting his teeth and looking into Max’s face, only focused on not letting go. Just the two of them in complete darkness forever, and maybe he would’ve gotten flustered by that thought if it were in a different context. But for now the only thing he could think of was Max’s terrified expression, the pleading look in his eyes as he clung to Richie like the lifeline he was.

It was likely only a few seconds in reality, before Steph finally let out a loud “SHIT” and slowly but swiftly approached the sturdier looking boards around Richie. The others tried to follow her example, but the concerning creaks had them all moving much slower than the two dangling over the pit would’ve preferred. Richie could feel his arms wavering, every attempt to adjust his grip had Max crying out in either fear or pain as the jagged wood dug and scraped where his body weight was pinned to the edge. Finally, Ruth managed to balance on the board closest to his pinned arm. Pete stood just behind Richie to offer additional support holding Max’s arm with the movement Ruth was causing, Steph was trying to tear his jeans free from their catch without jostling the entire boy even more. Max yelled out curses, the only sounds among the cracking wood as Ruth finally managed to yank his arm free and crash onto her ass. Another round of cracks as her and Pete scrambled away to where Grace was huddled gathering their things by the stairs. Richie and Steph assisted as Max painfully dragged himself through the hole, and they were the ones to keep him from immediately collapsing back onto the quickly disintegrating flooring.

Grace was the first out, bolting down the stairs like a bat out of hell and waiting in anticipation by the front door. The others moved with the same urgency albeit more cautiously, Ruth, then Steph and Pete, and finally Richie and Max. They hovered by the door, looking into the dark space where they could see the debris from the fall. The boards had been rotted to all hell but they were once sturdy and they still held that weight. They had crashed through two more stories all the way to the bottom, accumulating more shards and ending in a heap with many, many sharp points sticking every which way. Max was leaning heavily on Richie, his arm curled protectively over the center of his chest, staring vacantly at the mess. At where he would have landed, the two thick pointed stakes that stuck straight up threateningly right on the top. Richie swallowed heavily, feeling his throat closing up as the gravity of what just happened set in.

Max Jägerman almost just died. For real.

Pete said a quiet “c’mon” and held the door open for the group. Grace locked the door behind them all, no one was in a rush. They all seemed dazed, moving sluggishly and staring wide-eyed. Max was still leaning against Richie, arm draped over his shoulders and stumbling. He was limping really bad, his clothes had some intense tears, with blood seeping through the fabric on his arm, leg, and chest. His hair was completely mussed from it's usual gelled style, dirt and wood chips stuck to him everywhere and his expression was what could only be described as shellshocked. He hadn’t said a word outside of his frantic swearing earlier. They made their way to the curb, where Steph’s dad’s car, Pete’s brother’s car, and Max’s pickup truck were parked. Once they reached the edge to step down, Max fell to his ass and took Richie with him.

Max didn’t seem hurt any more than he had been but Richie fell hard to his back with an “oomph!” that Max didn’t react to. He left his arm pinned over Richie’s body, hand curled loosely over the curb on his opposite side to continue supporting his weight as he sat. It brought everyone else to a halt as well, which was probably a good thing because what were they actually planning to do? Just go home? Go to bed for school the next day? But instead they just stood for a moment looking at Max, Richie had given up wiggling free and just stayed on the ground looking at the sky. The clouds were heavy and dark, but there wasn’t a feeling of rain in the air. What a shitty night, they almost died and they couldn’t even see the stars after.

They almost died.

They almost died .

It seems most everyone was having the same revelation, Ruth started to tear up and took a crouching spot next to Richie to let out a few soft cries. Pete also teared up but instead turned his head to the sky, pulling his glasses off and running his hand through his hair as he started repeating that he’d known that place was unstable. Grace was pacing, it sounded like she was also muttering something about property damage and her dad but no one paid it any mind. Steph merely stared at the ground, putting a hand on Pete’s arm as her lip trembled. Surprisingly, it was Max who finally broke the quiet.

“I’m.. sorry.”

And that actually didn’t help at all. Everything felt surreal and they were all shaken up and Max fucking Jägerman apologizing to a bunch of nerds was not helping. But it was said just as sincerely as his earlier speech had been, and now everyone’s attention was on him. Richie had even fully pulled away to sit up, his face pale and bug eyes opened even wider than usual. Max turned to him specifically, this wasn’t the first time they had been this close but it was the first time in while that it was a non-hostile circumstance.

“You just saved my fucking life, dude. I don’t… I mean, what can I even say? After everything I did to you, and after you guys threw me that bomb ass party too..”

“That wasn’t a..” Steph starts but doesn’t bother finishing her sentence. Pete looks a little more defensive next to her.

“We all helped save you, man.” But it’s that statement that lights the familiar flame in Max’s eyes.

“You guys just stood there, Lipshitz is the one who fuckin’ caught me! Which is saying a lot since. Well.” And yeah, Richie can’t even feel offended by that. He’s a small, weak guy and even he’s still surprised he had managed to grab him at all, moreso that he did without taking them both down. Pete looks like he’s about to argue back and Max looks more than ready for it but they’re startled into silence again by a harsh laugh falling from Richie. It was just the one, a sharp sound that had everyone turn their attention to him, which just triggered more manic sounds to bubble up. Ruth fell into high pitched giggles beside him, still sounding wet like choked back tears, and soon most everyone was laughing hysterically. They probably looked nuts, gathered outside an abandoned building laughing like psychos in the middle of the night, covered in dust and debris and one with still seeping wounds.

That thought seemed to bring Richie’s brain back online.

“Oh my god we need to get you to a hospital!”

They all piled into Steph’s (dad’s) car, which was thankfully a three row sedan looking thing so there wasn’t a fight for seats. Grace insisted on being dropped off first, saying something about her reputation and being seen with Max Jägerman after dark. Whatever that was supposed to mean, because they were in a group and also he was very injured. Richie had been the one to help him limp to his seat, but once they got him settled he just dragged Richie down next to him. Like directly against his side next to him. And now that the adrenaline was wearing off and the realization that they did in fact make it out alive was hitting, Richie found himself capable of being flustered again. Very much so, actually.

See, it’s easy to deny your raging crush on your literal bully when they’re being the biggest douchebag ever. When the only times it comes up is in the privacy of your own bedroom, or the few times you pass them without acknowledgement. It’s way harder when they’re keeping you pressed alongside them, hand firmly around your shoulder, like they want you there. The radio was playing softly and Ruth was singing along off pitch under her breath, Pete kept trying to discuss something quietly with Steph but she just insisted it could wait. Richie could feel the exhaustion creeping up fast. The motion of the car was so soothing, the quiet chatter of Ruth and Pete was so familiar, and Max was so warm against him, and his entire body was so sore and before he could even realize what’s happening he’s pulled into drowsy town and everything goes black.

Chapter Text

Richie was shaken awake as they arrived at the hospital, thankful for the interruption from the odd dream that he promptly forgot upon consciousness. Hatchetfield was not a large town, and it was nearing midnight on a Sunday, so it had only taken about twenty minutes to arrive. In that time Max had obviously started to sober up quite a bit, literally and figuratively. He had removed his letterman and draped it over Richie's lap, holding Ruth's balled up skeleton costume over the gash on his chest. It unfortunately didn't seem to be helping if the steadily increasing bloodstain was any indicator. Nonetheless he held it firm, even as they parked and hurried to help him get out of the car. Well, Steph helped him to his feet from the outside, Ruth kind of managed to stay right in the way with multiple muttered apologies, Pete put in no effort watching from the front bumper, and Richie followed Max out from his door with one hand on his elbow and the other still clutching the letterman.

Max was definitely acting more himself, glaring at the group of them even as he stumbled and leaned against Richie again. Less than before, stubbornly trying to put weight on his injured leg and almost completely collapsing multiple times. He was whisked away quickly once they got in and the nurse at the front desk heard their jumbled story. That left the losers to sit and wait. Pete seemed rather upset, arms crossed and slouching low in his seat. Steph had her hand on his arm again, and after a few minutes of tense silence she sighed.

"Okay Pete, spit it out. What's your problem?"

No hesitation, he sat up straight and started speaking far too loudly for the setting and time. "My problem is that we're sitting around a fucking hospital on a school night for Max fucking Jägerman! I feel like I'm the only one who remembers who this is, yeah whatever he got hurt, but he's here now so why are we sticking around?! Let's just head home and hope we live through tomorrow! What are we expecting to do now, anyway? Ted is already gonna be pissed because I stayed out with his car so late, I don't need to add more Max onto that."

Steph frowned, "Look dude, he literally just almost fucking died because of us. The least we can do is stay to make sure he didn't get a concussion or something. Plus we drove him here and with his leg there's no way he could make it anywhere on his own. I can go ahead and take you back to get Ted's car and go home if that's what you want, but you don't have to be a jerk about it." Pete lost some of his bravado in hearing that, but he stood nonetheless.

"Yeah thanks, I'd appreciate that."

Ruth stayed with Richie while they left, the two sitting in a not quite comfortable silence. It was weird for there to be tension when it was just them. They had been friends longer than they had known anyone else, except... Whatever. That didn't matter anymore, that was then and this was now. Now, there weren't many situations that could leave them speechless with each other. Richie fiddled with the jacket in his hands restlessly, his leg bouncing as he stared unseeing at the quiet tv far in the corner of the room. Ruth spoke first.

"That was really cool, how you caught him. Imagine if you hadn't, or if you slipped, or-"

"Ruth."

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

"Right. Sorry."

And wow yeah that was an asshole thing to say. Ruth didn't have a filter in the best of circumstances, this was just her way of processing. It's not her fault he was feeling the most intricate web of emotions imaginable.

"No, I mean, I'm sorry. That was rude. I just don't want to think about it right now. I especially don't want to imagine what could've.."

His hands clenched the jacket tightly as vivid images flew through his head of an enraged Max, impaled straight through his torso, wheezed his final breaths and swore vengeance on them for getting him killed. A wave of deja vu swept over him and for a moment the barely audible tv chatter turned into ominous whispers, the image flickering and distorting. Ruth's hand on his knee helped ground him before he could even notice the way his breathing had started to whistle, the way his vision clouded with a staticky fuzz. Right. Yeah, that didn't happen, he reminded himself, Max was perfectly alive in some random room probably planning how badly he'll make them pay for this over the course of the remaining school year.

That thought also didn't help him feel better though. Maybe Pete had a point in being upset the way he was, now that he had time to think it through. What exactly were they expecting from sticking around? None of them had even thought to call Max's dad, who wasn't exactly known for his understanding nature at the best of circumstances. Then again if Max had wanted his father surely he would've been the one to call him, or command one of them do it. Richie remembered the slurred argument Max had with himself when he was being spooked at the Waylon Place, giving some gross insights into his modern dynamic with Jägerman Sr. Besides, Max was eighteen now, he could do whatever he wanted. Dealing with his dad wasn't something Richie needed to worry about.

He was grateful when Ruth abruptly started running through an explanation of Barbeque Monologues, from blocking and light cues to character studies. Her voice started out tense and nervous, like the words were coming out on their own, but it eventually eased into a normal conversational tone. Richie felt himself relaxing into a calmer state at the familiarity of it, of the complaints about directing choices he's heard a dozen times and the relatability of a forty year old woman. He found them rearranging to lean more heavily against each other, losing his fight against the sandman once more, and he could feel Ruth's motormouth running out of steam as she leaned her head on top of his.

They didn't end up seeing Max again that night, despite everything. Steph had hurriedly woken them up, offering little explanation outside of the fact she had talked to Max and he had warned them that his dad had found out and was not happy about it. She lead them out of the hospital and dropped them back home, Richie first and then Ruth. They said their goodnights with plans to meet up first thing when they arrived at school the next day, but Richie was so beyond ready for bed he barely registered what was actually being said. He let himself in as quietly as possible, surely his uncle Paul already knew he had been out way past curfew but there was no harm in delaying the inevitable lecture Paul had no doubt been preparing for this very moment.

He had absolutely not gotten enough sleep, even after his few naps between the events of the night. He hadn't paid any attention coming in, falling into bed as soon as he made it with Max's jacket still tightly in his grip, but surely it had been past three in the morning. His sleep was restless, once again full of dreams he couldn't quite remember beyond a cutesy laugh and flashing colors. It left him feeling sick as his alarm blared at 7:05am, just the same as every weekday. On top of his sluggish mind, his shoulders were aching in their sockets and he could feel the vertebrae in his neck grind when he turned his head. A small price to pay for saving someone's life and a few fitful naps after if you asked him, but unwelcome nonetheless. Paul was already dressed for work, waiting angrily at the kitchen table with a microwave breakfast sandwich and cup of black coffee when Richie finally got the courage to leave his room.

"And just where the hell have you been?" Paul wasn't one for super casual swearing the way Richie and his friends were, but the intensity in which he spoke showed this was a very restrained reaction. Richie was screwed. And there was no way the explanation would do anything to make things better, Paul would just be pissed that he had been so stupid. No use avoiding it. Plus, it's Paul. Richie can't remember the last time he tried to hide something from him, it's just not what they did. So he made a single slice of toast to help ease his still rolling gut and started recounting a brief summary of the night. Not everything, not even most of the details really. He had gone with Ruth and Pete and a couple of their friends, the place they were at wasn't super stable, someone got hurt, they helped the guy to the hospital and stayed until his dad showed up. No lies, technically. Just missing a ton of major details. But everything was normal now all the same so Paul would never have to know the full story.

They sat in silence again as Richie tore small bites from his toast and avoided eye contact. Paul hadn't responded yet, but there's no way he could call Richie out. He always looked away this much, he was always this sweaty and jittery before school, and he hadn't even been lying at all so there was nothing to call out in the first place! Still, it felt like Paul could see the guilt sitting heavy in his abdomen. It felt wrong to act like this to him, how did other kids manage to lie about things that actually mattered? Richie risked glancing at Paul's face just in time to see his brow soften and him take a deep breath, bringing his coffee cup to his mouth.

"Okay. Okay, okay. Okay." Yikes, not a good sign. But Paul just drained his cup and threw the remaining half of his breakfast away. Richie heard him muttering as he went to the hall to, assumedly, get his work shoes and briefcase for whatever boring office things it was that he did. Sure enough, when he stepped back into the kitchen he was ready to walk out the door, with a less intense expression.

"I trust you to make good choices, Richie." Oh. Ow. "We're talking more about this tonight when I get home. I want you to come straight home after school, right away. Okay?" Richie felt those simple sentences weigh even heavier on his heart. This was worse than whatever rage he anticipated, the idea of breaking Paul's trust. But he just smiled, unconvincingly, he's sure that his insecurity must have been radiating off of him in waves, and agreed. Paul left, but the uneasiness didn't. It stayed throughout Richie getting dressed in his standard layers, and his hike to the bus stop, and the entire ride to school. Thinking about having to lie to Paul again made him feel sicker than he thought it would've. He'd been Richie's caregiver for so long now, long enough Richie often forgot there was ever a time before him. And while it's obvious caring for a child doesn't come naturally to him, it's just as obvious how much he tries. It wasn't exactly easy to raise a kid like Richie in a town like Hatchetfield.

Richie seemed to be one of the first to arrive. Grace was of course already at her hall monitor post, and probably had been for an hour, but she didn't even glance twice in his direction. She was trying, and failing, to seem like she was keeping a vigilant eye out while obviously being completely in her own head. He couldn't find it in him to be ashamed of how relieved he was for her to ignore him, he had enough to deal with and Grace Chastity was not something he wanted to add to that list. He managed to get his locker open and go through the motions autonomously, only to yelp in surprise as he shut the door to find Stephanie standing right behind it. His voice carried very loudly over the low hum of the few tired kids milling about, making his ears turn pink as everyone turned to look at him. He coughed in embarrassment as Steph snorted, amused. No one seemed to care beyond that first glance, and Max wasn't around yet so-

Right.

"How's- I mean, have you- Uh. Max?"

"Good morning to you too, Ri-chard," she broke the word in what was obviously a mimicry of his own speech pattern. "I wish I could say for sure but seeing as I'm grounded I can't text him. Doubt he'd come in today even if he had been released though."

"Good morning Steph. He definitely needed stiches, did you see how much he was bleeding? And maybe a tetanus shot or two, and what if he broke something I mean he was limping really bad-"

"Richie. Breathe." He did, realizing just how nervous he had been for Max's condition. He had been so distracted with whether Paul would be mad, and Max was likely still in the hospital, and how had that slipped his mind so easily? That just made him feel even worse. Steph continued, "What matters is that he's alive, right? And I'm sure it won't be nearly as bad for him once he's stitched up and on whatever pain meds they deem necessary to give the town's star quarterback." That made her pause, finishing the rest of her thought more to herself than him. "I wonder if they'd give him the good shit or if they'd wanna keep him away from it? I mean less pain the better but-"

She got cut off by Pete and Ruth walking up together, and Richie was a little surprised no one else brought up Max again. Ruth gave him a look that carried weight but he was never good at determining what looks like that actually said. Pete seemed more than happy to ignore it, immediately launching into making plans for a new study date with Steph. Ruth made more exaggerated expressions that Richie still couldn't decipher. Finally she ran out of patience, but as soon as she had bounced over and looped her arm with his, the bell rang. Of course they all had the same first period, but obviously Ruth wanted some privacy for whatever conversation she had in mind. Her face fell before she shrugged and started leading him to class, keeping their arms interlocked with Pete and Steph trailing behind them.

Ruth didn't manage to corner him for the rest of the day, mostly because they always had Pete or Steph or, surprisingly, Grace hanging around. He quickly forgot about her wanting to corner him at all, honestly, worry for Max keeping his attention instead. You'd think the relief of not running into him would free the space in his mind but it seemed to be just taking more space worrying for his wellbeing. Outside of his and Steph's earlier conversation, no one mentioned Max's attendance at all. Richie knows it's not because he's often absent, for one because of how the nerds tried to keep track of him around school and for two because Max always had his attention when he was around. Even when Brenda and Stacy caught him to tell him about the increase in cheer practices to prepare for the upcoming game, they didn't mention Max, who was usually their favorite topic of gossip. The day just played out completely uninterrupted. It wasn't until school ended, when he was within eyesight of his bus home and the wait for Paul's return home loomed over him, that Ruth struck. She pounced from around a beam and grabbed his bicep, yanking his arm rather painfully and sending a throbbing burn through his shoulder blade.

"Hey! What the hell-"

"You're coming with us to check on Max! I know you didn't forget already, we literally were talking about it on the way home! Steph's been using my phone to text him, she had to ask Brenda for his number 'cause she couldn't remember it. All her contacts have names, she said, why would she need to know the actual numbers? I'm sure you can't wait to see him again, I could tell you were thinking about him all day, you're so obvious. I think he'd like to have his jacket back, don't think I didn't see you take it home. What's it smell like? Not blood, I hope. That's not too much of a turn off but I'm sure it'd be better without it. Where is the jacket anyway? Did you even bring it? I'm not sure what would be more embarrassing, walking around with it all day and him not being here to get it back or going to the hospital and not having it with you." She snorted, "though I don't know how you would've given it back even if he was here today-"

Richie can't tell if Ruth does this on purpose or not, if she disarms the people around her by overloading them with information so they have no objections to whatever she's leading them to or if her adhd is just that intense all the time. Either way they make it all the way to Steph's (dad's) car with no breaks in Ruth's rapid fire nonsense, no sign of Pete but if Ruth is to be believed it's not surprising he would bail again. Steph herself was texting someone intently, and yeah that was definitely Ruth's phone in her hands. She didn't look up even as Richie fought to tug his arm free from Ruth and started objecting.

"Woah, wait wait, what? I don't- I mean I can't just-"

Ruth pouted, still with that teasing tone to her voice. "Aw c'mon Rich, you can't ignore your damsel in distress! Plus, you already agreed to come with!"

"Not objecting because I was zoned out a-and half asleep is not consenting Ruth-"

"Look just forget the jacket thing, I don't blame you for wanting to hold onto it for a little longer, but let me know how intensely we need to clean it before we do return it because I have tested and confirmed the best ways to get a variety of fluids out of different cloth types-"

"That is NOT-" he took a deep breath, face completely pink, as Steph finally looked up at them with an equally bemused and exasperated expression. "The jacket is still on my desk chair," no it wasn't, it was definitely draped over his pillow if memory serves correctly, "but that's not what I'm worried about! Paul wants me back right after school, I don't want to immediately ignore the one order I've been given and risk actually getting in trouble." Paul didn't really know how to give out punishments, his last 'grounding' was Paul not renewing their Crunchyroll subscription for two months. But that had been a hellish, boring two months that Richie wasn't keen to repeat. "Plus, we don't even know if Max wants to see anyone, let alone us."

"I know," Steph raises one hand off Ruth's phone momentarily, still looking amused. "He has asked specifically to see us before he gets released in a few hours."

"'Us' as in you? Or 'us' as in like, us?"

Steph and Ruth were a dangerous duo, Richie decided. Ruth definitely knew of his thing for Max, she'd been through the entire development alongside him and knew way more intimate details about his thought processes than he was comfortable with. But the look in Steph's eyes as he asked that, equally knowing and amused and sympathetic, made his gut start rolling with anxiety again. Bad enough he was still carrying this torch after so long, but apparently new people were seeing it for what it was in a way that hadn't been noticed in years. Luckily she was the one to break the eye contact, reading off the phone aloud.

"'Us' as in 'am alive. how the nerds? u should come see me before i leave'," her thumbs started moving so quickly Richie couldn't imagine what she was actually accomplishing. "I need to know who all is coming with, Pete, and Grace even though I didn't actually ask her, outright refused so it's just me and Ruth right now. I can take you home first if you really don't want to go though, cause you just missed your bus." She pointed behind him, not looking up, just in time to see the last of the busses pulling out of the parking lot. Richie crossed his arms over his chest and took slow deep breaths, digging his jagged nails into his arms as he weighed his options.

The correct choice was take Steph up on her offer and go right home like he promised, Paul wouldn't be home until later this afternoon, probably, and Richie wanted to take some time to be alone and figure out what exactly he would say to him. But. He wanted to know how Max was doing. He wanted to see him alive, in a better state than last night no matter how nice it had been to be so near him at the time. And Max had asked for him- THEM. Max had asked for them, the nerds. All of them. Of course. It was no long internal debate, Richie knew which he would take up immediately. But it felt wrong to not at least pretend to weigh his options, and then he wondered how exactly he would explain this to Paul now, too. Ultimately it didn't really matter, because he was climbing into the passenger seat with no further arguments and no clue what he was walking into.

Chapter Text

"We're talking about this tonight when I get home."

'hey listen i know'

Nope, backspace.

"I want you to come straight home after school."

'i promise im not trying to'

Definitely not, backspace.

"Right away."

'paul i remember this morning but'

Ugh no, backspace.

"I trust you to make good choices, Richie."

'something came up with that kid i told you about, i promise ill hurry. sorry'

Nothing sounded right, but Richie couldn't stop himself from trying to reword his excuse over and over. The responsible thing to do was text Paul and tell him what was going on, but it would be far easier to just not do that and hope for the best. Paul wouldn't get home until much later anyway, something about understaffing in his department and his high-strung boss. Richie would probably still be home before him and he would never have to know that Richie was disobeying a, rare, order from him. That would, of course, only involve more lying to him though.

His attention was pulled away from his phone as Steph pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. He left the message drafted and closed out of the app, getting out of the car and following Steph's lead to the front desk, through the necessary visitor's clearance. Ruth held onto Steph's sleeve through the hallways, clingy as always. Richie trailed a few paces behind them, arms crossed over his chest and nails scratching at his right arm as his anxiety rose. Breaking a promise to Paul for Max Jägerman, purposefully seeking Max out, seeing him again after the events of that night...

Why had Max asked to see them? Why did Richie actually agree to it? God this might be an ambush, payback in the same way they had attacked him. At least they would already be in the hospital. Richie had heard the rumors of his more brutal victims. So lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize they had arrived at Max's room until he ran into Ruth's back. Steph pushed the door open before his second thoughts could be voiced.

Max was wide awake, sitting up in the bed and not hooked up to any machinery. Richie knew he was going to be released soon but he couldn't help but be surprised to see him so normal looking. The thought of anyone being in a hospital immediately brought up memories of heavy equipment and dark curtained rooms. But Max was lounging back in the bed playing some kind of violent game on his phone with the volume turned all the way up. His left leg was folded in front of him, his right dangling off the edge and bouncing restlessly, with the curtains pulled back from the windows and bathing him in mid-afternoon sunlight. He looked totally normal, his hair a mess and wearing a new set of clothes but still way better than Richie was expecting.

There were bandages around Max's left forearm and bicep, Richie was willing to bet there were some out of sight over his chest and left leg as well. He was making his own sound effects under his breath on top of the loud chaos ringing out from his mobile game. He looked so much like the Max from Richie's memory, it literally took his breath away when Max made eye contact and for the first time in years and there wasn't a hint of disgust or annoyance. It could also be the anxiety+asthma+binder combo he had going on at the moment but all of that seemed distant compared to Max in front of him, giving the three of them a big grin as they walked to his bedside.

"Steph! Finally! God I've been so bored, I just wanna leave already. You're like, the only person who's bothered to check in."

She smiled lazily, teasing and comfortable in a way that made Richie's gut twist. Anxiety, surely. "Yeah yeah, behold, your savior has arrived. Bow before the mighty designated driver. Figured you could use some assistance in your jailbreak."

Max's jaw clenched just a bit. His carefree attitude dimmed a bit as he scanned the door behind Ruth and Richie, as if looking for someone. It took a few seconds before he actually registered that he was looking directly at the two of them, but his grin sharpened once he did. That grin specifically was part of the front Richie had gotten more than used to over the years, and he was embarrassed on how his face still flushed at the sight of it after all that time. Yes, the "Literal Monster" Max Jägerman was an asshole and tormentor of nerds everywhere. He was also hot. Richie was not to blame for either of these realities.

Ruth interrupted his thought process. "Max! You're alive!"

Max’s cocky expression dropped slightly at that, and Richie felt his own brow furrow as he registered what she said.

"Ruth..."

"You brought me here?"

"I know.." she looked towards the ceiling and fiddled with her fingers. "But to be honest, until now I wasn't really sure last night even happened... You can't deny it was pretty unbelievable! I'm just happy it was real and you're really still alive! I mean, I'm not happy it was real and you got hurt, but I am excited because you don't seem to hate us as much? Steph said you asked about us. Unless that just reminded you that you do actually hate us still in which case ignore all that. But, uh, yeah I'm glad you're alive even if you decide you do still hate us."

The bewilderment on Max's face melted as Ruth spoke, once again looking more open and sincere than he had in years.

"Yeah, thanks Flem-uh.. Rrruth..?" He said her first name hesitantly but continued when no one corrected him. "Glad I'm alive too. I'm uh," he visibly searched for the words to whatever he was trying to say. "Thanks. I wasn't sure you guys would wanna come. I don't, hate you. Anymore. I don't think."

Steph scoffed at that as Richie's grip on his own arm tightened. Not as reassuring as Max had probably hoped to come across.

"That's the lamest shit, Jägerman, after the literal miracle that was you not dying I expected a little more." It was lighthearted in tone but her face was rather serious as she said it. Max's own expression turned outright angry for a moment before he froze and restrained it. Richie got the familiar feeling that he was missing some context in this situation, and judging the way Ruth scooted closer to grab onto the edge of his vest she was in the same boat.

"Hey I'm the one fuckin’ recovering from nearly dying, gimme a break! God if I knew you were just gonna nag me I woulda ignored your ass." Richie hated the way he couldn't get a proper read on Max anymore. He sounded mad, he looked mad, but it didn't seem to be taken seriously. Steph was still leaning her weight against the left side of his hospital bed while Ruth and Richie hovered by the foot of it. She was actively teasing him even with the angered reactions.

In grade school it had been easy to tell what Max was feeling, he always wore his heart on his sleeve. And after, there was no need to try to read him because it was always the same annoyance and sometimes outright fury within seconds of spotting each other. Richie felt like he might need to sit down, the swirl of conflicting emotions was enough to make him lightheaded. He was mostly nervous, and sad at the realization that he had missed Max all this time and hardly even realized it because of the fear Max instilled in him now. Then that weird gross feeling at seeing how comfortable him and Steph were with each other.

"Please! It's not that bad, couple stitches and you'll be good by the game."

"It's not about the pain, Steph! I was dangling over certain fuckin' death! I'm like, in shock or something!" Steph laughed again at that, but he barreled over her. "Besides it's your fault it even happened to begin with! I know it was, like, a great setting for a spooky party but there's no way you guys thought that place would hold anyone."

Richie could feel the question mark appear over his and Ruth's heads. He was positive Max had been told multiple times now they hadn't been throwing him a party. They had very much lured him to unstable conditions under false pretenses. Guilt threw itself into Richie's bad-mood-cocktail. He couldn't decide what to say, hadn't really said anything yet, but he couldn't keep having Max smile at him while lying to his face about the circumstances of his near death experience. He took a deep breath before he could lose his nerve.

"Y-yeah, uh, abouh, about that, Max-"

"How about we go ahead and head out?" Steph interrupted him. He squeaked awkwardly as his sentence died but she continued as if he hadn't said a word. Damn media training. "You said you wanted to leave, if you're able to drive I can take you back to your truck. Grace said it's still there."

"Grace went back?" Ruth asked. Her and Steph continued wondering why she would bother (left her bike last night) but Richie wasn't paying much attention to their words. He kept his attention on Max from the corner of his eye. He was scrolling through some texts, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful and almost sad, but it hardened quickly to annoyance.

"Yeah," Steph and Ruth's attention was pulled back to the boy on the bed. "I'll need that ride. Thanks, Steph." He was definitely irritated and it seemed like having to repeatedly thank people wasn't helping.

The knot in Richie’s stomach tightened as Stephanie held out a hand to help Max out of bed, but he refused it. Only to get up, take three steps as he normally would to Richie's side, and lose his balance. He swore and tried to steady himself but still knocked right into Ruth.

Ruth squawked and tried to grab Max's uninjured arm for balance, which of course only tilted him further towards the ground. Richie swore and stuck his arm straight across Max's waist, wrapping his arms around his hips to keep him from crashing headfirst into the tile. Ruth was lucky in that she was half Max's size and weighed nothing so once Richie had caught the momentum they were stabilized. But then they found themselves in the awkward position of Richie gripping Max's waist as Ruth hung off his forearm. Stephanie chuckled as she walked around them to hold the door open. Richie jumped back as quick as he could and Ruth giggled as Max straightened up. He shook her off his arm and cleared his throat, face pink.

"Shut up, no one say fuckin' anything." He was still unsteady on his feet, but he lead the way with a huff, moving slowly and making sure to keep his weight off of his left leg. Richie followed as close as he dared, worried he'd stumble again, with Steph and Ruth following just behind him. He could hear Ruth whispering her freaky little comments to Steph and was grateful he didn't have to listen to her gush over how easily Max held her up. He didn't want to think about how Max's hip felt in his hand, how his abs had tensed against Richie's arm, how even with their bodies pressed together Richie's hands still barely made contact around his sides. Especially not when they would be hanging around him for however long this car retrieval would take.

What even was his life anymore?

Usually Richie called shotgun, it made him carsick if he sat in the back, but Ruth sprinted for the car as soon as it beeped that Steph had unlocked the doors. She threw herself into the passenger seat and locked the door behind her. Richie instinctively ran after her, yelling insults as he tugged uselessly on the locked handle. They continued to taunt each other childishly through the window until Steph and Max caught up. Richie clammed back up as they approached, Max wasn’t being mean right now but he didn’t want to just give him something to start making fun of. And sticking his tongue out like a toddler over a seat was definitely something. But it seemed like their attention was thoroughly on each other and the heated, hushed conversation their were having. Another stab to Richie's stomach as they fell silent when they made it within audible distance. So it was something they didn't want hi- them hearing. As curious as he was, Richie had enough self awareness not to pry.

Ruth's scheme of course left Richie and Max to sit in the back, Max behind the driver's seat and Richie behind the passenger. It was.. Tense, is probably the only word for it. Richie knew his anxiety had to be suffocating everyone in the vicinity. Hopefully his deodorant hadn't worn off, but between worrying about Paul and worrying for Max, and all the levels of fucked up that came with that, he felt more than ready to hide away in his room to decompress for the next three weeks. Looking at his phone though it was only 4:47 and his torment for the day wasn't even close to over. 

Looking at his phone did remind him about Paul once more, and the fact he had managed to let his friends just drag him out again with very little pushback. Usually that was just how he operated, tagging along with little complaint, but his stakes for not being here this time were high. Again, Paul was not good with punishments and Richie couldn't help but feel guilty over the thought of Paul stressing over him like this. He was barely late getting home if Steph were to drop him off right that moment. But they were heading to the Waylon Place, right in the opposite direction of his house.

His heart dropped as the phone started vibrating in his hand, the screen showing none other than Paul's contact trying to call him. Of course.

"Everyone shut up!"

No one had been talking, which would have embarrassed him in lesser circumstances. But Ruth did shut off the radio and the others continued to sit in silence as he answered.

"Hel-lo?"

He was greeted with a deep sigh from his uncle. "Hey Rich, I'm gonna be late again tonight. I know I gave you all that shit about being home, I still want you home, but I figured you should know not to wait around for dinner. Let me know if you're gonna cook or if we should order out, and I want to reiterate that I'm not mad at you and you're not in trouble. Yet. I know you're just being a kid, and we'll talk more about my expectations for your behavior later, but, uh. Yeah. Be home, be safe, lemme know what you wanna do for dinner. Love you, bye." And he hung up.

Okay. Okay, okay. Okay. Well. Problem solved? He sounded stressed, rushed. Paul definitely had something on his mind, usually he tried to be as straight to the point as possible but boy could he ramble when he tried to play it cool in any stressful situation. Dealing with supervising teenage rebellion and boundary testing seemed to be something he was struggling with right now. But Richie was in the clear! What was one more lie? He wasn't going to turn down an extra hour with a Max Jägerman that tolerated his presence, who knows when that luck(?) would run out.

Ruth clicked the radio back on, though she didn't sing along this time. She seemed nervous when she spoke, her voice soft as she addressed Richie. "Paul?"

"Yeah."

"Is he mad at you? I didn't think he was able to do that."

"He's not. I mmean- h-he's allowed to be m-mad at me, i-if he ww-wanted to be I guess. He's not, mad, now, though." In an effort to stop his stuttering, his words ended as if they were whole sentences each, a harsh stop between them. He scratched at his arm, though he snatched his hand away when his nail snagged against the fabric of his sleeve. He could Feel Max's eyes on him as he flicked his wrist a few times to rid himself of the feeling, then the anxiety of being watched by Max prompted him to continue jiggling his hand around nervously. But Max didn't say a word, just continued to watch him.

"You know, everyone seems to like pathetic men nowadays online but having known someone like Paul for so long I just can't see the appeal. Maybe it's because he's always been more uncle than daddy, or maybe I'm just not the kind of gal who's into that dynamic. But I never got the wimpy appeal, I've got enough of all those traits as is I don't want my partner to have identical turn-ons as me! But I have to admit it is always kinda hot, how whiney they sound when they start getting worked up-"

"Uh RUTH??" Richie's voice cracked as he cut her off. He could feel his face lit up in a blush yet again, but luckily this time he wasn't suffering alone. Everyone except Ruth was at least a little flushed, Richie knew what (who) Steph probably had on her mind as she gripped the steering wheel tight and kept her eyes planted firmly on the road ahead of them. Max was staring at Ruth with a subtly shocked look, the slightest hint of pink sitting high on his sharp cheekbones. Ruth cackled as Richie glared at her through the side mirror. They were both surprised when Max let out a soft chuckle watching Ruth pull her knees up to kick against the seat under her.

"You guys are, weird."

Ruth didn't hesitate to turn her attention to Max. Her performance anxiety may keep her from her dreams but day-to-day she had more than enough confidence to make up for Pete and Richie's more cowardly behavior.

"Yeah dude! How are you supposed to have fun if you're worried about being normal? Embrace the weird to be truly free!" She threw her arms out dramatically, she small stature making it so she could stick them straight up and barely brush the roof of the car. Max laughed again, seeming to let himself relax more.

"I dunno about all that, but you're a little freak, Flems. I'm kinda surprised?" Ruth's face lit up, Richie could see the stars in her eyes at the nickname. He cringed as she whipped around in her seat to look at Max.

"Maxwell Jägerman you have barely scratched the surface of my freakiness and I will gladly demonstrate more if you'd allow me-"

"Ruth!"

"How about we don't?"

Richie and Steph's protests overlapped, once again triggering a laugh from Max. Ruth tried to get Richie's opinion on whether she should stick to more mainstream kink talk or if she should start pulling out fanfic terminology, to which he once again flushed and insisted on neither you fucking weirdo, but Max caught one of the topics through Richie's discouragements and there was no stopping Ruth's excited rambling once she knew he was interested.

After an agonizing ride being forced to listen to Ruth ramble about everything from bondage to hentai to femboys (low blow RUTH), Max listening intently and even asking questions, they got back to the Waylon Place. It wasn't any less intimidating in the late afternoon light. Max's truck was right where it had been left, a few fallen autumn leaves covering it but no sign of anyone having come this way. Steph turned the car off, but no one rushed to get out. Ruth's conversation fell flat and they just sat in silence again. Richie wasn't sure what to do, scratching at his arm once more. They waited for Max to make a move, to get out or say goodbye or. Something. But he just stared at his truck, at the way the shadows of the dilapidated building seemed to reach out and twist towards them. The wind picked up, whistling ominously through the many trees surrounding the property.

"Hey, Max, uh, you.. okay?"

Max jumped, like actually, and whipped to three sets of eyes on him. He was trying to be confident, act normal, but Richie could see he was thinking hard. Surely he felt it too, the shift that had occurred. The lack of animosity among them. And it seemed to rattle him. Maybe it wasn't just that, of course, but this was an entirely new situation for Max. Not only was he not intimidating the nerds, he seemed to be trying not to.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm great. I should.. Should get going. Uh," he huffed, "Thanks again, Steph. Uh, all you guys. This has been.. something." Ruth gave an enthusiastic "BYE!" while Richie just waved, unseen as Max had his back to him exiting. Steph sighed and followed him out, starting yet another hushed conversation as she walked him to his car. Ruth of course turned completely around in her seat to grin impishly at Richie in their privacy. He glared, slouching further in a fruitless effort to shy away from her gaze.

"So."

"So?"

"Max."

"..Yeah?"

"Come on, Richie! What's the wet dream status at?"

He spluttered, why was she always like this. "What the fuck are you even talking about?! I don't even- that's not even-"

"Someone's blushing~" She taunted in a singsong tone. "I know I'm gonna think about touching his arm tonight, I wish I could've been the one hanging off his waist but we can't all be twunky heroes all the time I guess.."

"Ruth." She did sober a bit at his serious insistence. "That is literally one of the furthest things from my mind right now. I've gotta deal with a serious Paul Talk tonight and I'm currently breaking the rules and lying to him for this nonsense. Plus, Max is being.. weird. I don't like it."

"Max is being nice! Why is that bad? I know you don't like stuff changing but try to embrace good things when they happen! This could be the start of something great!" Her statement was sincere but she wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. "Maybe almost dying did make him realize some stuff. Plus, Steph is cool and has been on his ass like a dog trainer all day. I think she's trying to get him to lay off, I know she wants Pete and Max's bullshit is intimidating him from making a move on her."

Looking out the window they could see Max sitting at an angle in his driver's seat, pouting as Steph seemingly scolded him. Richie couldn't help but let out a little snort seeing that. He had never seen Max defer to any of his friends before, makes sense Stephanie Lauter would be the one to be the first to break through his ego. Max muttered something that of course couldn't be heard from inside but it made Steph crack and she shoved his uninjured arm lightly as Max also let his attitude lighten again. The sight brought a warmth to Richie's chest, a feeling he hadn't associated with Max in a long while. It was promptly interrupted by his phone ringing once again, with Paul's contact flashing on the screen once more.

"Oh shit." He answered and forced a casual tone. "Heyy, Paul. How's it going?"

"Great actually! I'll be out earlier than I thought, I'll go ahead and pick something up for dinner on the way back but I'm walking out now so it won't be too long."

"Oh!" He caught Ruth's panicked look and and mirrored it helplessly. "Awesome! Uh, see you soon?"

"See you, Rich. Love you."

"Love you."

He and Ruth stared at each other in horror for just a moment after the call dropped, before scrambling out to run over to Stephanie with overlapping rambles.

"Woah, wait, what??" She looked completely lost, startled out of her conversation by their panic. Richie was winded so Ruth took up explanation first.

"Paul is on his way to Richie's house! Right now!"

"And I was supposed to be there way before right now! So we need to leave as immediately as possible!"

"But my house is closer! I should get dropped off first!" Richie glared at Ruth for that.

"Your neighborhood is like ten miles long! Just let me go first!"

"And waste Steph's gas? Plus it's so much backtracking from your house and both of us live the wrong way for her so it'd take so much more time to bring me back after!"

"I'm going to never be allowed out again if I don't get home before Paul and you're worried about gas? If I get caught lying he'll never trust me again!"

Of course in their argument they became completely oblivious to Steph staring at an extremely thoughtful Max. She nodded once, encouragingly. He nodded back, apparently having made up his mind. He cleared his throat loudly, immediately silencing what had devolved once again to petty insults.

"I could give Richie a ride home."

"..What?"

Max had that light pink dusting his cheekbones again but shrugged as if he were unaffected. "Yeah man, I'll get you home way faster than Steph could anyway. They've got a thing that tracks her speed so she never risks going over the speed limit, but I don't give a shit about all that." Steph nodded in agreement.

"I think that's a good move, plus if you're that worried for time here's your solution. Take it now and get home in time or keep arguing and face the consequences."

Richie gave himself just a moment of internal debate before settling on agreement. Ruth never would've backed down. Though as he sat in the passenger of the truck and settled his bookbag between his legs, he saw Ruth and Steph fistbump with smug looks. Any uncertainty was squashed by the knowledge those scheming shits had done that on purpose. Max didn't see their exchange though, so Richie just tried to calm his breathing as Max held his word and tore down the street at an incredibly inappropriate speed for a residential area.

Chapter Text

The ride started in silence, the only sound coming from the roar of the engine and wind through the open windows. It wasn't until they made it off the back roads that Max let up on the accelerator and spoke. The easiness of their earlier car ride was gone.

"So where exactly am I going?"

"Oh, right." And then silence once more, only interrupted by Richie's quiet directions. Max was drumming his hands against the wheel but of course Richie didn't know what song he had in mind while doing it, if any. A few minutes passed before he worked up the nerve to speak again. "So, uh, how are you f-feeling?"

"Hm?" The drumming paused, briefly, "Oh! Pretty good! A lot better than I could be, ha. Uh, I really am glad you came with Steph, to see me. I know how hospitals can be for you.." Right, Max would know.

"I, uh, I-I'm kind of surprised you remember that. After, e-everything else s-since." Richie almost felt bad bringing attention to how much had happened since then, but it'd be worse trying to ignore it. After a few more beats of silence he decided to bite the bullet. "What um. What are you doing?"

Max got visibly confused and gave a small huff of laughter. "Taking you home?"

Richie pointed out his next turn before continuing. "N-no, no, I m-mean," he took a deep breath and started to over enunciate his words to stave off the nervous stutter, "I mean why are you acting like this? You haven't.. I mean it's been years since.. This isn't what you do. This isn't how you act, towards me, anymore."

That was a bit pointed, a deeper question hidden in the last statement. Max certainly seemed to hear it at least, grimacing and stopping his patting.

"Yeah. I've been thinking a lot, after last night. What you did was actually incredible, saving me. And your friends seem cool, so I thought I'd try to treat you guys better, or something. I talked to Steph about it, she said it was a good idea! And I trust her judgement more than mine, so here I am I guess."

Richie felt a familiar frustration engulf him. The same way he felt after the first time Max made fun of his speech, of his hair, of his 'stupid cartoons', of his voice and height and family and-

"So, what? You decide we're cool and everything's just fine now? You just get to keep treating us however you want because- why? I caught you, 'saved' you or whatever, but nothing about us has changed. You get to arbitrarily choose who you treat as subhuman based on fuck-all? You think after everything you've done to my friends every day of our lives, you can just act like we're all fine?" He didn't mention any of the heavier, more personal topics. Their weight still hung in the air between them, they both knew what the worst of it had actually been. "I just- I don't understand. A-and I'm mad at you, for it. An-and I think I should be mad about it."

They sat quiet again after his short rant. He felt nerves begin to replace his anger but held tight. He wasn't going to be intimidated out of this confrontation, it was a long time coming. Despite how cruel Max had been to him in the beginning, over the years the bullying was less targeted as he shifted his focus to nerds as a whole. And while he doubted Max was in any condition to do much of anything, Richie also felt strangely confident knowing Steph would at least put Max in his place if he did end up hurt on this ride. He steeled his nerves and looked at Max's face as he gave him the next direction, only to cut himself off seeing Max’s expression. Max followed the unfinished command anyway.

"I had some weird dreams last night." Richie almost wanted to get angrier at the subject change but the soft voice carried an emotion he couldn't recognize coming from Max. "I'm pretty sure it was the drugs and shock or whatever but. I can't stop thinking about it. And it's freaking me out. And I don't want to.." He took a deep breath. "It wouldn't make any sense if I tried to tell you what it was about, I already tried with Steph but it was just so-“ He growled in frustration as he searched for the words he wanted. “But I think if," Another breath, "If I had died, I don't think anyone woulda missed me."

What.

Max continued, "I didn't know where else to start, I talked to Steph about all of it but she said this is my 'journey of self discovery' and I've gotta 'navigate it on my own' or whatever. But I don't know how to be different, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I thought maybe being cool with you would help jumpstart some kind of good behavior again but..."

Richie felt bad for it but he had to cut Max off with another direction. They were about ten minutes out from his house now, and they had fallen quiet yet again.

"I-I'm not sure ab-about uh, your 'journey' or whatever, but it'll take a l-lot more th-than a vague apology a-and a ride home to make up for, e-everything you've done. N-not just to me, either. Pete, you just fucked up his eye the other d-day and he can hold a grudge even in good circumstances. Ruth is, she'll probably be easy actually. Even after you knocked out h-her tooth that one time," He took a little satisfaction in the way Max cringed at the mention of that, "She's way more fuh-forgiving than most people. A-and I..."

He trailed off. Getting closer home, it was probably just past six now so the after work traffic had died. Richie felt his stomach swoop but prayed for whatever Paul was ordering to take a long time. Paul had a supernatural ability to lead the most average, uneventful life so hoping for an interruption to his schedule was like waiting for a miracle.

Maybe it was Richie's vibes radiating too strongly, maybe Max was actually thinking over his words, but they made it to his house without any more discussion aside from Richie's instructions. As they pulled into the driveway Richie let out an audible sigh of relief. Paul's car was nowhere to be seen.

Max cut the engine but didn't unlock Richie's door. Not in an intimidating way, he had slouched back in his seat and stared intently at the wheel still in his hands rather than turn to face Richie. Richie waited, despite everything he was curious what was going on through Max's head.

"I'm just-" Max cut himself off and tried to start over. "I don't..." He growled and brought his hands to his face. "God this is why I didn't wanna do this yet! I don't know what to say to you! A-and I want us to be cool again! But I know I burnt that fuckin' bridge forever ago and now I have to come back and fuckin' grovel to you?! That's not-! Ugh! God she's such a bitch, I needed her here for this..."

Richie didn't understand entirely what he meant by that, but he could gather enough. The burst of fondness he felt at the realization just made him angrier.

"What, y-you need coaching on how to be a decent person?" Maybe that was kind of harsh, if Max was serious about being better, but he felt justified in his disbelief. Max pulled his hands down and finally met his eyes. Richie felt the fondness sitting in his chest grow at his puppy-dog expression, and swallowed down the bitter taste in his mouth.

"..Yeah." His voice was barely there, almost cracking.

Richie couldn't think of anything to say to that. All of his bravado drained out of him, whatever bravery he had been clinging onto from the previous night gone. And it was just the two of them again, both feeling exposed in a way they had long forgotten. Richie couldn't help thinking of their last civil interaction almost a decade ago. They were younger then of course, both going through incredible grief with no idea how to handle it. Richie had just lost his mother, had just come out to Max in a desperate bid for acceptance and belonging in his turbulent life. And Max responded.. not well, in the moment. And that was that.

Richie had hoped then that Max would understand. He had lost his own mother, in a different way, and Richie was so sure that Max would take him in his arms and comfort him through this discovery and maybe even-

Silly, childish dreams. Max had never called him his deadname after, used the correct terminology, but it always held an air of ridicule, disgust. He might've become a bully but he was a modern teenager and respected the queer community. Maybe Richie could eventually forgive most of his actions, but he could never forget the betrayal he felt after that day.

Max took a deep breath, but whatever he was preparing to say fell flat as Paul's car pulled into the driveway beside them.

Their goodbye was lackluster, to say the least. Richie's heart was pounding so loudly he couldn't even hear Max's farewell, didn't process whether he gave one at all. He merely grabbed his stuff and fetched the takeout bag from the passenger seat of Paul’s car. Paul watched Max drive away until he was out of sight, then whirled around and made his way to the front door without comment. Richie followed in similar silence.

They made it through setting the bag on the table and each going to change out of their day clothes without a word, only once they had sat down and began sorting the food did Paul speak.

"So."

"..So."

"A friend?"

"Uh," Richie wished they could’ve just skipped over mentioning Max again but. "Yeah, kind of. Um, that kid, from last night? Th-that uh, that was him. He offered to g-give me a ride, today. From school." Overkill.

Paul sighed. "Richie, I'm not stupid alright? I know you're not telling me everything, if any of that's true." Richie started to argue but was silenced by Paul meeting his eyes with a stern look. "I haven't given you a reason to lie to me, you know you're allowed to do pretty much whatever, so I just don't understand why you're lying. Staying out late with your boyfriend is fine but you have to tell me what's going on so I can make sure you're being safe because-"

"Max is not my boyfriend!"

"-BECAUSE this town is fucking weird." Paul spoke loudly over Richie's flustered protest of his label for Max, his swearing cluing Richie in to just how frustrated he was. "I don't subscribe to whatever paranormal conspiracies everyone else believes but I do know how often people just vanish in this shithole and I don't want you to become another statistic because you felt like you couldn't trust me. I know something happened last night. Especially if Max, or whoever, did have to go to the hospital over what you got up to. I need to know these things, Rich. You're the only family I've got left, I don't know what I would..." He took a deep breath and blinked the tears forming in his eyes away. "I'm going to do my best to believe you came home when you were supposed to, and you just wanted to spend more time with Max without bringing him inside. And you're going to let me believe that for your own sake. But I want the truth about last night. I don't want to be left in the dark if you're getting up to something dangerous."

The pit in Richie's stomach was all-consuming, he was fighting to swallow every bite he took of his fried rice. His thoughts were zipping around rapidly as he struggled to pick one topic to start with. "Well, uh, I didn't lie about last night. I was with Ruth and Pete, and Steph and Grace and Max. We, uh, we decided to play a prank on Max, a kind of mean prank. And he almost got really hurt because of it." Paul seemed genuinely confused by that, interrupting with his fork halfway to his mouth.

"A mean prank? That doesn't sound like you, Rich. Was it peer pressure? I don't want you hanging around bad influences, I’ve never heard of you hanging around a Steph or Max and I don’t know how I feel about my first introduction being this nonsense.”

"No, no, I mean- no! I decided to do it just the same as everyone else! An-and it's just as much my fault he ended up falling, but I saved him! And he didn't fall all the way so he's totally fine and everything will be back to normal in no time!"

"Fall?"

"The boards were sticking up in a very, concerning, way. If he had fallen all the way I'm pretty sure he would have... died..."

"DIED??" Paul gripped his plastic fork (he couldn't use chopsticks and usually only requested them for Richie) so tightly Richie feared it would snap.

"W-we went to the old Waylon Place..."

"The WAYLON PL-" Paul slammed his hand, fork and all, on the table as he cut himself off and forced a calm tone. Richie could see the disbelief in his wide eyes nonetheless. "Richie that place was long-condemned when I was a kid why would you ever think to-" Another pause for a deep breath. "First thing's first: you are not to step foot in that deathtrap again Richard," Oh, full name drop, he really meant that one. "Second: have you lost your mind?! Surely you've heard how dangerous that house is!"

"I thought you didn't subscribe to whatever paranormal conspiracies everyone else believes."

"Rotting architecture is not a paranormal conspiracy! The point is that was an extremely stupid and irresponsible thing to do. Especially for something you wanted to hurt someone with."

"We didn't-" But Richie would be lying if he said they hadn't wanted to hurt Max somehow. "I mean, he ended up liking it? I think he thinks it was some kind of celebration or test of courage or something. Steph didn't let me tell him what we had actually planned. I didn't know why, but we were talking and I think he might be having some kind of existential crisis. I don't know if he's ever been scared for his life like that before."

"What were you planning? I would hope you didn't want to physically hurt him but bringing him to that house makes me a little concerned."

"We just wanted to scare him! Pete and Ruth dressed up and I was going to record him pissing his pants so we could post it online and embarrass him! H-he's been a huge asshole and we just wanted to knock him down a peg! We weren't trying to hurt him at all!"

"Alright, okay, I believe you. So no one got hurt?"

"Well. Max did almost fall three stories, and he got pretty cut up when we pulled him up. I think he had to get stitches, stayed the night in the hospital, but he got released earlier today. He's totally fine now." Richie wasn't sure how much he bought that statement himself, with how drastic a change Max had seemingly gone through, but Paul didn't hesitate to take it as truth.

"Okay. I'm glad you're all safe and no one died for your silly, thoughtless prank." Richie smiled. His anxiety had been fading at no longer having to lie and Paul's voice finally returned to his usual tone completely, leaving Richie sure that the conversation would end there now that Paul had answers he could be satisfied with. "You're grounded."

Richie's smile fell.

"What? Paul-"

"Don't even try to argue this one, Richie, you're lucky my relief over you being alive right now is overshadowing my rage. You stayed out all night doing something incredibly stupid and then lied to me after. Grounded."

"But technically I didn't lie to you-"

"I'm not talking about last night." Paul didn't leave any room for argument there, not that Richie would've if he had. "Your curfew is 6pm until I say otherwise, but only for your practices and clubs and such. No going to friend's houses. Solo dish duty every night, including the stash you have shoved under your desk. I'm not canceling our streaming services because I just paid them so count yourself lucky."

Richie couldn't couldn't help his whiney protest, despite his relief and the admittedly tame punishment. Paul hadn't even taken away his anime access this time. And his phrasing of not going to other's houses implied a loophole, but Richie figured now wasn't the best time to pry.

"Oh hush, we both know this is nothing. I was debating making you ride home from school with Bill and Alice every day but I thought that might be too cruel."

Richie cringed at the thought. Nothing against them, but the post-divorce father-daughter tension was always painful to bear witness to.

”Yeah okay, I’ll take the win.”

“Smart. Anyway, Max huh?”

”Paul come on-“

"No you come on, you can't bring a boy home and expect me to not comment on it. You've never really shown interest in any real person before-"

"Hey so did you happen to make any other stops on your way back?"

"Richie I'm not- wait what?"

"I'm just saying, making an extra visit to Beanie's and not bringing me anything back is lame. Though I'm sure actually buying something while you were there was the last thing on your mind. How was Emma today?"

As funny as it was watching Paul splutter, it was embarrassing seeing how similarly they reacted in that way. Paul finally gritted out that she had been cranky and focused his attention to finishing his dinner. Richie laughed but let the subject drop now that they were even. It would definitely come up again later, but he had bought some time. Hopefully enough so that this would all be done with and he wouldn't be subjected to an even worse flavor of Paul Talk. His first ever 'birds and bees' discussion had been the most awkward interaction they've ever had, he wasn't looking forward to one where it was actually assumed he would be participating in any of the topics.

They cleared the table together, Richie put away their leftovers and fetched all the dishes from around the house. Paul made a good call in getting him to clear the ones under his desk, he hadn't realized just how many cups and spoons he had hoarded. After he was finished he retreated to his bedroom, passing Paul on the couch. He tried to set up to work on his homework on his desk, but Max's letterman still sitting on his bed caught his eye.

He felt outside himself as he picked it up and took it with him to his desk chair, fiddling with the collar and trying to hold onto a train of thought. Memories flew through his brain like a tape on fast forward, from an hour ago to last night to last week to ten years ago. It didn't feel real. But Max's jacket in his hands was proof of it, and he found himself holding it close as his thoughts finally came into clarity with a focus on Max.

It was easy when he could separate his feelings from reality, but if Max was trying to be better and form some kind of friendship again that could prove more difficult. Richie unfortunately knew he would welcome any sincere efforts from the jock, he liked giving people the benefit of the doubt and he knew that Max could be a good person if he wanted to be. But then his reputation came into play, and Richie didn't think he would want to be buddy-buddy with Max if he was still being a dick to the other nerds. This was more than just being nice to Richie again. Max had formed an entire persona that revolved around hurting people. And Richie wasn't willing to be an enabler of that.

He could talk to Steph about this now, she might know more about present day Max than he did. He knows Max was taking mandatory anti-bullying counseling, so maybe now that he was motivated he could start putting what he learned to action. Richie knows Max had been paying attention, he would make comments and use terminology from them pretty often. He just willfully didn't follow the advice.

Richie didn't realize how long he had been thinking, brought back to reality by his phone buzzing a few times in quick succession on the desk in front of him. He had slouched down in his chair, at some point started fully cradling Max's letterman against his body right under his chin. He flushed and dropped the jacket to his lap as he leaned forward to grab his phone. Two notifications from 'Ruth Vader Ginsburg' and one from an unknown number. He checked Ruth's first.

’Hey gay boy i did you a favor ;p you owe me MAJOR DETAILS’

‘Also don't be mad lmao he asked me i did Not just offer it up’

Richie was confused, he thought she was referring to the ride fiasco until he checked the unknown message and felt his face burn up. Butterflies exploded in his stomach as he stared blankly with a tight grip on both his phone and the jacket sitting on his legs.

‘hey it max i got ur num from flems’

Swiping back to Ruth's messages he typed out a keysmash and sent a few all caps threats, only to receive emoji innuendos in response. He steeled himself to respond to Max but couldn't think of anything worth saying.

‘hey max. whats up?’

‘nuthin i just wanted to have ur num and be sure it actully u’

Richie hated that he found the bad spelling cute. Also Max wanted to have his number and he really didn't want to let himself dwell on that.

‘did u see wear my jacket went? i thouht u had it after evrythin last night’

Ah shit, worst case scenario. The butterflies turned to stone as he tried to figure out how to confirm he had held onto it while not giving away that he had been cuddled up to it for the majority of that time.

’oh yeah, i grabbed it when we all split. my bad, i hadnt even thought abt it. i can give it to you tomorrow?’

‘ya sure do you ride the bus?’

‘yes?’

’ok well ill just pick u up instead and get it then’

Richie felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. No way. 

’are you sure? you rlly dont need to, i can just bring it with me’

’nah dude i wanna talk more befor we have to be at school’

Disbelief. There was no way this was Richie's reality. But he agreed in a daze, and the conversation ended there. It seemed like his mind had finally given up processing what was happening, and he used the opportunity with his head clear to knock out his assignments. Only once he had crawled into bed later that night, once again keeping Max's jacket close, did he realize he had to go through yet another car ride with just him and Max. He didn't know what to expect, even after their talks earlier. Max had something he wanted to tell Richie, had almost gotten it out when they had to part ways earlier, and Richie had no idea what it would be about. Their past? Their present? Their future?? Whatever it was, it had Max stumbling over his words and that was enough to make Richie wary. Not scared, but nervous.

He fell asleep rather easily despite it all, exhausted even as that same laugh from the previous night echoed in the dreamless black of his slumber.