A/N: Just an idea I had after viewing the movie. Teddy's falling to pieces as his world starts to crumble. With no one to turn to besides his old friends can he find the strength to stand? Can he find the will to try? Will eventually feature all four boys, but if you're looking for Mary-Sue romances you're reading the wrong story :). This is purely about friendship.

Disclaimer: I own neither the novella The Body nor the film Stand By Me. No copywrite infringement is intended.

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It was raining.

Whether from the September's skies or from his shimmering hazel eyes it neither mattered nor changed anything about who he was, who he'd been, and who he was slowly starting to become.

Once, three years ago, someone had called his father a 'loony' and he'd cried, cried, cried not because he was angry at the supposed lack of truth, but because it was the truth, and he was in denial.

He wasn't the smartest guy in the world. Okay. Fine. He accepted that, lived with that, even used it to his advantage a time or two.

But he wasn't stupid.

And as he sat alone in the tree house on these last, dying days of summer Teddy Duchamp mindlessly shuffled a deck of cards someone, whether it had been Vern or the other guys he didn't know, had left. There were a lot of other guys, now. Once it had just been the four of them, but Chris and Gordie had gone on to bigger and better things and then it was only Vern.

Vern, however loyal he may be, was a complete and utter idiot. They were the ringleaders of a group of young pussies that liked to think they were all that and a bottle of booze when in reality they were nothing.

And were always gonna be nothing 'til the day they died.

But still. It was raining.

He hadn't slept at all the night before. His mother had recently found herself boyfriend number six hundred and thirty two and not only was this Jimmy-guy world's biggest slob, he was also world's biggest jerk. Right away he'd forbidden Teddy's mom and her teenage son to visit the man who'd stormed the beach at Normandy and while his mother may have been okay with this new rule, it was slowly destroying Teddy.

His hand found its way to his bad ear, fingering the hearing aide and fighting back tears as he glared at the door. Once, Vern had knocked their secret knock and told them of a body. Once, they'd actually gone to find this body. Once, the four of them had learned a hell of a lot about, well, just about everything.

But that was once, and this was most definitely now.

The nightmares had been terrorizing him since that day he'd nearly been killed by his father, and though he told no one of their existence he was haunted by them just by night, but by day, too.

They drove him crazy; made him want to go nuts and be insane just like his loony-

-No. No, Duchamp. He ain't loony. HE AIN'T!

And then the tears were rolling down his face in waterfalls and he couldn't stop them because slowly but surely they were stopping him. His shoulders shook and his he drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them fiercely, protectively.

Nobody loved him.

Well, okay, maybe his mother but she loved Jimmy, too, loved that foul, pussy, wet-end man and didn't get that it was killing her son, killing Teddy because without that link to his father and to his past and to his fears he was nothing.

Chris and Gordie didn't care. Hell, he barely even waved in the halls to them anymore. They didn't know him; they didn't remember him. He was just there. Like a frickin' rock or-or, well, like somethin' that didn't matter, anyway. Vern was just a tagalong, always had been and probably always would be.

And so Teddy sat. Alone. Forgotten.

And then the door opened.

Teddy didn't hear it at first because, well, because he was just busy, that's all, busy thinking 'bout stuff. But when he did finally look up (the tears fresh on his scrubby cheeks and glasses wet and foggy) he was shocked to see Chris of all people standing there.

Teddy gulped back a sob and tried to scoot away—why, he wasn't sure. The expression on Chris's face was one of shock, which Teddy figured was mirroring his own rather remarkably. But then his old friend did something so Chris Teddy knew he should have expected it right from the get-go.

Chris Chambers: resident comforter, care giver, peace-maker extraordinaire. He squatted down to Teddy's level, frowned, placed a hand on each of his old friend's shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"Teddy?" he said, and it wasn't really a question as much as it was a statement of acute surprise. "You okay, man?"

Teddy tried to nod but suddenly he couldn't do anything but sob and he hunkered down forward so that he was in a sort of misshaped ball. His hands went to cover his ears and as they did so he felt…it…His left ear…Or what was left of it…

Strong hands gripped him savagely and he was being dragged, dragged, dragged to the burning stove and a voice whispered words he couldn't quite hear as the side of his head was pushed down…

Down…

Down…

"STOP!" Teddy shouted wildly, pressing on his temples to make the memory disappear and as he did so the tears came faster, harder, as though they had a purpose now, a destination…

"Teddy?" Chris was talking at him, gripping his arms as though to snap him out of it. When that plan apparently failed he sat down next to the teenaged boy and pulled him into a hug, letting Teddy cry, cry, cry into his shoulder.

And as Teddy let his emotions overcome him for the first time in months he thought that maybe, maybe, he wasn't so alone after all.

Outside, the rain fell harder.

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To Be Continued

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