"I love you, you know."
The words lingered in the air, leaving it stale and unwelcome.
Eddie stared on, face paled by the others admission and stomach falling through the bed. He felt the words in his throat, though they stayed trapped there; like fish in a net, thrashing to be freed. Only a few made it out, passing Eddie's lips as nothing more than choked sounds.
Richie sat there, heart like thunder against his chest. He hadn't meant for the words to escape him. But seeing Eddie sitting there, tears in his eyes and face all beaten up, open wounds and dried blood smeared on his face and clothes; he couldn't help himself. That night had made it all too real.
What if he didn't get that chance again?
Their night had started like any other. The group of friends had been hanging out at the Mall, contemplating whether they should see a film or go to the arcade down the block.
Eddie had seemed uncomfortable and anxious all afternoon; mostly keeping silent, even when Richie made those stupid, immature jokes. Eddie didn't retort, only looking over his shoulder, seeming almost paranoid to the bespectacled teen.
Admittedly, Richie thought it best to take Eddie home, which to his own surprise, Eddie didn't deny. They separated from the rest of their loser's club around 9:30 pm, making their way silently through the lamp lit streets of Derry, Maine.
Hands in his pockets, Richie kept lensed eyes down upon the pavement, whole body heating up and leaving him feeling so wonderfully complete, simply from Eddie's company.
Eddie was far from warm, inside or out. He kept his arms tightly wound around himself, teeth chattering gently in the cool, mid-autumn air. It was that sound alone that caught Richie's attention. Almost instantaneously, the taller brought his arm around Eddie's shoulders, pulling the smaller against his side; an action he would soon come to regret.
"Bit cold there, Eds?" He asked, rubbing the others arm as he held him close. Eddie didn't move, only nodding his head shallowly before turning deep brown eyes Richie's way.
"Fucking obviously, Richard. Don't call me Eds."
Though he wouldn't ever admit it, it always stung a little when Eddie said that, especially with the use of his full name. Smile that had once been spread over his face was quick to fall, and Richie brought his attention back to the sidewalk.
"Are you okay, Eddie?" He finally managed to ask, "I mean, you've been pretty weird all day… And– and don't lie to me. I know something's up."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
Before Eddie could retort, the ambient silence around the was broken by the sound of drunken slews of words. For the first time all day, Eddie turned his head, for the hundredth time that day, to find a man angrily approaching.
It was hard to hear exactly what he was saying, though Eddie could get the gist; 'Fucking faggots', 'Not in my fucking town'. He spat at the sidewalk, wiping his mouth with his tattooed arm, though the ink was faded from a lifelong lived.
Richie only pulled Eddie closer, brows furrowing as he turned his eyes back to the man. All too soon, he was directing Eddie behind himself, putting himself between the man and the boy. "Look man, we don't want any trouble."
The stranger laughed, though the action alone caused him to drunkenly stagger. "Yeah? No fucking trouble? Should'a fuckin' thought about that before you and your fucking Fairy boy decided to bum-chums in my fuckin' town."
Eddie was shaking, fingers tightly clutching to Richie's shirt as he tried to pull the shaggy haired teen along, whispering for Richie to move, to run, to do anything but stand there. But Richie didn't move, he didn't even budge; remaining still as the man approached.
"Sir, really. We don't need–"
Within one swift motion, a loud thwack sounded out throughout the street. Eddie screamed. Richie fell, spitting blood from his mouth and his glasses splaying out in the grass.
Hands to his face in shock, Eddie had tears in his wide, scared eyes. They moved from Richie on the ground to the man before him, who was only laughing. He spat at the teen on the ground, putting a few kicks to his ribs for good measure.
Hearing Richie groaning out in pain made something click in Eddie's head, and within an instant, he was at the man, using all his strength and weight to shove the stranger away from Richie. Only that close, could he see the rot on the man's teeth and lingering in his breath, the scratches on his skin, the dilation of his eyes, the clamminess of his face. Drugs. Eddie didn't know exactly, though he could only assume, and the assumption alone left his head spinning as he grew nauseous.
The man only shifted slightly under the teens attempt, and was soon laughing.
"Pathetic little fucking Faggot." He easily pushed Eddie down.
The boy fell back, groaning softly as he tried to bring himself back to his feet, although to no avail. His face was met with the underside to a dirty, old boot. His nose crunched under the pressure, head hitting the curb with a loud thud. Eddie cried. He was now on the receiving end of the attack, kicks and punches being thrown his way; to his torso, his face and his crotch.
Richie slowly pulled himself up, blinking through blurry vision as he turned his eyes to the attacker. The pain in his chest and side was unimaginable, until he made out the shape of Eddie's body on the side of the pavement; trying to cower despite the man grabbing at his arms. Nothing was comparable to that feeling; that rage that burned in the pit of his stomach. That anger. Richie had never felt anything like it.
Stumbling to his feet, Richie wiped at his bleeding lip before stepping up to the man from behind. Hand to his collar and to his shoulder, Richie launched the man into the shallow trench by the sidewalk. Falling, the man landed in the decorative shrubbery, grumbling out in pain.
"You fucking dirty little pricks! I'll fucking kill you!"
Richie helped Eddie to his feet, trying to rush despite how gentle he had to be. "Eddie– Eddie my glasses."
The smaller nodded, wincing as he moved to where he saw the spectacles on the ground. He handed them to Richie, and they were off running before he could even slip them on his face.
Richie could hear the man in the distance. He had made it out of the bush, though he had no hope in hell of catching up to the pair. He shouted at them still, stumbling about the place they had fled.
It was 10:11 pm by the time Richie and Eddie were climbing through Eddie's bedroom window, which was something the smaller had never thought he'd have to do. But, he knew, if his mother saw him in such a state, that would be the end of everything.
Tiredly and painfully, the boy dropped down onto his bed with a heavy sigh, breathing out the fear and adrenaline causing his whole body to throb with heat. He covered his eyes with his arm before kicking of his shoes.
Richie stayed in place by the window for some long moments, eyes shifting between Eddie and the yard. Eventually, he drew the curtains closed. "Eds? Are you okay?"
No response.
"Eddie?" Voice riddled with concern, Richie stepped towards the bed, gently settling himself upon it. Eddie hummed.
"Eddie, where's your first aid kit? I don't wanna leave you lookin' like–"
"Like I was murdered?"
"That's– well, yeah, one way to put it."
Eddie sighed, "School bag."
With a short nod, Richie stood, quickly searching through the others bag before pulling out a small, black, zip up pouch. If Richie didn't know better, he would have mistaken it for some girls make up bag. Sitting back on the bed, he pulled out some wipes and gauzes from the bag, soon wiping Eddie's face clean from the blood.
Eddie winced. "It burns." He whispered, face recoiling some at the coldness of the wipe, though he didn't pull away from Richie's touch. In fact, he found himself leaning into it; much like he had earlier that night.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." Richie stated gently, sighing as he dropped his hand into his lap. "I'm sorry– we should've run… I'm such a fucking idiot." Eddie only pursed his lips, dark eyes staring at the floor, though he seemed to be in some far-off place.
"If I ever– if I ever see that guy again…" Richie spat the words out like venom, leaving Eddie's skin feeling like ice as he slowly turned his gaze up to the older teen. He furrowed his brow.
"What? What are you gonna do, Richard?" While his voice stayed low, no one would be able to miss the underlying anger in his tone, "Nothing. You're not going to do anything. He was– he was drunk, and high at least." Sighing, Eddie shifted in place, moving slightly away from the body beside him.
Richie frowned. His heart hung heavy with every word Eddie spoke, and he couldn't help the hurt that manifested in his gut when the other shifted away from him. "I'd kill him. Really, I would." He bit at the inside of his cheek, "I wanna protect you, Eds."
"Don't call me that, Richard." The smaller teen said quickly, thick brows downturned as he brought his eyes to Richie once more. "I don't– I don't need protecting, asshole. I'm fine on my own." He ran a grazed hand through his hair, "Hell, that probably wouldn't even have happened if you didn't– didn't put your arm around me!"
"You were cold!" Richie retorted, "I was just– I was just concerned about you, Eddie. You've been weird all day… I wanted to– I don't know… Make you smile or something at least once."
"Why do you care about that all of a sudden? It's ever bothered you before. I was havin' an off day, okay? Everything just felt– weird and wrong and I didn't want to go out in the first place." He sighed, trying to calm his breathing as he closed his arms around himself.
Silence settled. Both boys kept their eyes to the floor, though every so often, Richie felt his gaze wander up to Eddie's bloodstained face. Eddie never noticed, only using the back of his hand to wipe his eyes.
"I love you, you know."
Eddie, finally, brought teary eyes Richie's way, staring up at the other in nothing but complete disbelief. He couldn't register what he was feeling in that moment. It was completely indescribable by any other word but cold. Ice through his chest, like those long winter nights when everything just got to be too much and he'd sleep with the window open in hopes of feeling… something.
"W- what?"
But in that moment, staring up at Richie's warm summer eyes, head spinning with all the words he should have said, Eddie wasn't sure he wanted to feel at all.