xxxxxx

Chapter 16

xxxxxx

It had been a little over a week since he and Richie moved in with the Powells. Eddie was feeling much more comfortable, but still felt like he had a lot of room to further grow in regard to trusting anyone other than Richie and Mrs. Powell.

Mrs. Powell had actually been so nice Eddie could hardly believe it... and it didn't go away after a few days. Of course, she still had time to change her mind, to stop caring, to become abusive like everyone else... but so far it looked promising.

She had taken Richie and Eddie shopping on the weekend, buying curtains for Richie's room, new sheets and comforters for both of the rooms, and some clothing for each of them. Eddie got his own jacket - one that actually fit him. And shoes without holes in them. She bought them each a back pack too, and some school supplies. She even took them to a comic book store and bought them each a few comics.

For once, Eddie felt kind of like a normal person. He didn't have to worry about being cold walking home from school, or about misplacing his one and only pencil and having to steal one from someone else to do his homework. He owned some unnecessary possessions, bought for him not because DCFS said Mrs. Powell had to provide them, but just because she wanted Eddie to feel happy and entertained. Eddie had never owned his own comics before - he had borrowed some from an almost forgotten foster-brother once, but he had to give them back when he moved out.

Now he had possessions of his own. If he moved out, he'd take them with him. They were his.

Eddie was starting to feel unusually secure in his life here. But he did still do things that he knew were annoying and clingy and weird. He was waiting on Richie to tell him to fuck off, but Richie hadn't yet. When Eddie asked Richie to stand outside the bathroom while Eddie took a shower, Richie gladly did it without complaint. Eddie wouldn't get dressed or undressed unless Richie left the room and stood outside the door. Richie didn't seem to mind that the smaller boy still wouldn't sleep in his own bed.

One night Eddie woke up crying and screaming from a nightmare, and Richie wasn't mad that Eddie had kicked him in his sleep and woken him up. He hugged Eddie and talked to him until he fell back asleep.

Another night Eddie woke up and he really, really had to pee. As much as he tried to hold it and wait until morning, he just couldn't. So he woke up Richie and asked him to go with him. It was just across the hall from Richie's room. Eddie knew he was being fucking ridiculous, but he was scared. What if Mr. Powell had been waiting every single night for the chance to catch Eddie alone in the dark. What if he was outside the bedroom, waiting for his opportunity?

Eddie realized it was improbable... but it wasn't impossible. Other people in his past seemed willing to sit and wait for the chance to hurt him. Patrick certainly did.

Richie wasn't mad that night either. He got up out of bed and walked across the hall with Eddie, checked the bathroom before sending Eddie in... And he stood outside in the hall wand waited for Eddie to be finished.

Eddie had felt so bad, so weak and annoying... But Richie didn't mind. The other boy hugged him that night, when Eddie expressed that he felt guilty and weak for requiring so much reassurance and support. Richie told him it was okay, that he loved him. Eddie had felt so warm and protected... He realized he loved Richie too - more than he'd ever loved anyone. They were like brothers - like actual brothers. Not foster-siblings. Richie actually cared about Eddie, on such a deep level, and Eddie felt the same back. He'd never felt this protected and cared for by anyone in his whole life.

As far as Eddie knew, Patrick, Henry, and Mr. Salinger weren't being held by the police. There was an open investigation, but they were free. Eddie wasn't sure if Henry or Mr. Salinger had even done anything bad enough to face jail time.

Henry was rough... but he was also seventeen years old. He wasn't even an adult... and could a teenager really get in that much trouble just for punching someone? That's kind of all he had done... Kids beat each other up all the time without getting in real trouble.

And Mr. Salinger... of course, what he did wasn't appropriate, but was it illegal? Was it sexual assault? Richie seemed to think it was. Eddie wasn't sure. If was awful. It was scary. He knew that much. Mr. Salinger had forced him to bend over without any clothes on. He put his hands on him... Eddie had been completely naked. He didn't want Mr. Salinger to look at him or touch him, but Mr. Salinger didn't leave him a choice.

Eddie wasn't so scared of Mr. Salinger at this point though. He didn't think the man had sinister intentions when he did what he did. Eddie was pretty sure he just didn't want to get in trouble. He just wanted to make sure Eddie wasn't hurt in an obvious way. It wasn't like he really wanted to touch Eddie and would come back to finish what he started or to seek revenge. Patrick and Henry might - especially Patrick. Eddie couldn't get that possibility out of his head. Patrick had been so cruel, so rough, so relentless... and he was still free. Maybe he'd been watching Eddie and Richie, waiting for Eddie to be alone somewhere. That wasn't fucking going to happen. He and Richie went everywhere together.

They were walking home from school now. They had plans to make a snack and work on their English projects together. Richie still didn't seem to understand the point of the play they were reading, so Eddie agreed to help him with his project.

"Do you think Mrs. Powell's gonna order takeout again?" Richie asked as they walked.

"Probably." Eddie laughed. That was the one thing that had kind of dissolved after the first few days of them living there - that she couldn't be bothered to cook meals. As far as Eddie was concerned, that being her biggest fault was pretty fucking okay. Mrs. Powell wasn't going to win any awards for being being a picture-perfect wife and mother, but she sure as hell was better than anyone else Eddie had ever lived with in his entire life.

"I'm kinda getting sick of it to be honest." Richie noted. "It was cool at first, but there's only so many places to eat... We've had so much fucking pizza this week. For once I think I could go for a fucking salad or something. Like a vegetable of some kind. Damn."

"The pizza place has salads." Eddie noted with a shrug. "We can ask if she'll order one."

"I'm just gonna ask if she gives us twenty dollars if we can just go to the store and buy some carrot sticks and fruit and shit." Richie suggested. "I think she just doesn't want to go to the store... so if we offer to do it after school, she'll probably be glad to give us the money."

"Probably." Eddie agreed as they made their way up the front steps.

Eddie shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up near the front door on one of several hooks the Powells had lined up just for such things. He noticed Richie shrug out of his jacket and throw it on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

"I'm gonna go make us some peanut butter and jelly." Richie spoke up, throwing his back pack on the floor. "You want milk or juice with yours? The orange juice is getting a little old."

"I'll have milk, Richie. Thanks." Eddie answered, picking up Richie's back pack and making his way into the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Powell weren't home at the moment, so Eddie felt a lot more comfortable moving around the house by himself. He realized it wasn't fair - that Mr. Powell was probably a really nice person... but Eddie just couldn't be too sure. He'd trusted people too fast in the past, and was determined not to make the same mistake again.

Eddie unzipped Richie's back pack and took out his books, placing them neatly on the coffee table, then did the same with his own. They had to prepare speeches about a theme in The Taming of the Shrew. He had some ideas for his own, and was willing to give one of his ideas to Richie since the other boy seemed so lost when it came to this particular assignment.

Eddie looked up over his shoulder when he heard Richie making his way into the room. "Damn, that was fast-" He started, cutting himself off with a short, sharp breath when he saw it wasn't Richie after all.

"Patrick..." Eddie whispered, barely able to produce sound out of his mouth as he stared breathlessly at the older boy. "Wh-what are-"

"Shhh. Shut up." Patrick growled, effectively silencing Eddie in mid-sentence. Eddie looked him up and down. He had a knife in one hand, and rope and duct tape in the other.

Eddie shook his head, taking a step back. How the hell did Patrick get in here? The door was locked when he and Richie got home...

Eddie breathed in a shaking breath as he heard commotion from the other room, the sound of a plate breaking, the sound of a struggle, maybe someone being hit. "Richie!" Eddie shouted, immediately heading toward the kitchen, trying to dart around Patrick, but failing.

"I said shut up!" Patrick growled, reaching out and grabbing Eddie before he could make it past him. He punched Eddie hard across the face, then grabbed him again before he could fall, dragging him over to the couch and shoving him down onto it.

"Stop!" Eddie whimpered when Patrick climbed on top of him, turning him around and twisting his arms behind his back. "Richie!" Eddie screamed. He hoped his friend was okay. He hadn't heard anything but struggling, things breaking and being slammed around. Richie hadn't said anything.

Eddie moaned in pain as Patrick wrapped his rope cruelly around Eddie's wrists, securing them tightly behind his back. As soon as his arms were firmly bound behind him, Eddie felt himself being turned back over.

"Patrick, please! Please let us go!" Eddie sobbed.

"Shut the fuck up. Your loud mouth has gotten me into so much fucking trouble." Patrick growled, pulling a strip of tape off the roll of duct tape he'd brought and tearing it with his teeth.

"Don't! Richie, help!" Eddie screamed, trying to turn his face to the side. "Rich-" He was cut off when Patrick slapped the piece of tape over his mouth, pressing it painfully down with his hand.

"I will fucking kill you." Patrick growled, pressing the blade of his knife against Eddie's throat.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shrink back as he whimpered shakily.

"I mean it, Pretty Boy. I'll cut your fucking throat. I won't think twice. Don't you fight me anymore. I will not hesitate to slice your neck so deep your head'll practically come off." Patrick threatened, pressing the knife even closer.

Eddie winced, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter as he felt tears spilling from them. He didn't really have any room to argue or fight back. Patrick had been pretty quick to immobilize and silence him.

The next thing he knew, Eddie was being violently pulled up off the couch and dragged toward the dining room. He sobbed breathlessly as Patrick pulled him along.

"Eddie!" Richie's shaking voice shouted as Patrick dragged Eddie into the dining room.

Eddie looked up to see Richie was being tied securely to one of the dining room chairs. Richie had blood coming from his mouth and nose, like he had been hit pretty hard a couple times to get him to hold still. Henry was hovering over him and a gun was on the table nearby. Eddie's heart felt like it stopped as his eyes lingered on the metallic object, lying still on the table, pointed toward Richie. How the hell had Henry come into possession of an actual gun?

"Patrick, please don't..." Richie breathed. His mouth wasn't taped up yet. He let out a pained wince as Henry tightened the ropes on his arms behind him. "Please let him go. He didn't do anything wrong. Please don't hurt him."

Eddie felt himself shaking as he remained still, with Patrick's harsh hands holding him in place by his arms. He didn't know what to do. Henry had a gun. Patrick had a knife... He and Richie were both tied up. How the hell were they going to get out of this?

"You two got us in a lot of trouble." Patrick breathed into Eddie's ear.

Eddie whimpered and shrunk down.

"Why the fuck would you do that!?" Patrick growled, shaking Eddie for emphasis. "I told you to fucking keep quiet. Then you cry and scream when four-eyes over there knocks on the bathroom door... And even after that, you didn't have the fucking sense to just shut up?"

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed softly as he felt Patrick's hands around his arms tighten even more.

"He didn't tell! I did!" Richie breathed, his voice shaking. "Patrick, please... If you wanna hurt someone, hurt me. He didn't want to tell. I practically forced him to. It was all me. You kept doing things to him that I saw. I'm the one who told."

"I'm not afraid to fucking kill someone." Patrick growled, squeezing his hands even tighter if it was possible.

Eddie choked out a pained whimper, opening his eyes back up and looking toward Richie. He wondered if Patrick and Henry would kill them. Maybe this was going to be the last time he ever saw Richie, or anything at all.

"I've done it before." Patrick added.

Eddie felt his stomach do a flip as he tried to look up at Patrick behind him. Was he serious? Eddie looked back ahead of himself, at Richie and Henry, who also both looked pretty shocked.

"Did you really?" Henry frowned.

"Yeah. My parents. The house fire..." Patrick spoke very calmly. "I burnt it down. They got mad at me for not doing chores. They yelled at me and made me clean up the kitchen... I cleaned it. I cleaned it real fuckin' good while they hovered over me like fuckin' prison guards, watching to make sure it was done right. It was so fucking demeaning. I was so god damned mad... So that night, after they went to bed I lit the fucking kitchen on fire... I put chairs in front of their bedroom door and in the hallway so they'd have a real hard time getting out. Poured lighter fluid all over the hallway leading to their room, put lighter-fluid covered dish towels all over the top of the stove, lit it up, went out to my tree house and watched it burn."

Henry laughed, staring with huge eyes. "Seriously? Weren't you like twelve?"

"Yeah." Patrick shrugged. "Killed my baby brother before that too, when they were so fucking up his ass like they loved him more than me. Smothered him. Acted surprised when they found him dead in his crib later. No one ever knew."

"Why the fuck are you telling us this?" Richie breathed.

"Because I know you won't tell." Patrick answered.

Richie exhaled a small breath, making eye-contact with Eddie for a moment. "Okay... You're right. We won't tell... J-just let us go, and we won't-" He was cut off suddenly when Henry balled his hand into a fist and slammed it hard down against his ribs.

Eddie let out a muffled scream from under the tape over his mouth. He wanted to beg Henry to stop, but he couldn't even do that.

"You won't tell because you're gonna both be dead." Patrick laughed. "I'm gonna do whatever I want to both of you, then you're gonna die."

Henry looked back at Patrick with a frown. Maybe he didn't know Patrick was planning on killing them. Maybe he was trying to see if Patrick was bluffing. Eddie hoped he was.

"Patrick..." Richie breathed, his voice shaking. "There's not any good evidence against you right now. Just me and Eddie's word against yours. He had bruises, but those could have come from anywhere. You could still get away with all of it... But not if you kill us..."

Patrick shook his head. "I'm not stupid. I know you'll just tell again. I'm not leaving you room to tell this time. Maybe this house will accidentally burn too." He pulled Eddie back away from him, then punched him hard in his stomach.

Eddie tried to breathe in a shaking, pained breath, but he didn't feel like any oxygen was reaching his lungs. He let himself fall down to the floor, but Patrick was quick to pull him right back up to his feet, only to hit him again, even harder.

"Patrick, stop!" Richie screamed, whimpering a pained cry of his own when Henry hit him across the face with the end of his gun.

Eddie whimpered breathless sobs as he tried to focus on Richie, tried to see if his friend was okay. It hurt him so bad to know Richie was right there, being hurt, and Eddie couldn't help him. He couldn't even speak to beg Henry to stop. He couldn't do anything.

"Gimme the gun." Patrick growled, dragging Eddie over toward Henry and taking the gun from him.

Eddie shrunk down, whimpering pained, terrified, wheezing breaths as Patrick pressed the gun painfully up against the bottom of his chin.

"Stop!" Richie begged. "Patrick, please!"

"I won't kill him yet." Patrick breathed, pressing the gun harder against Eddie's jaw. "Not until I get what I want outta him."

Sobbing breathlessly, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what Patrick was talking about. There was only one thing on the older boy's mind. One thing he kept trying to do. The thing Eddie always somehow got out of at the last minute, by very well-placed interruptions.

"Nothing's gonna stop me this time." Patrick growled, shoving Eddie hard back against the wall and then slamming the side of the gun across his face.

Eddie whimpered and slid down to the floor. His vision blurred at the edges. He felt both pain and numbness all over. He was so close to passing out. He supposed it was for the best though. If Patrick was going to hurt him while he was tied up and defenseless, he supposed he'd rather be unconscious during it.

xxxxxx